#Citizens for a Blood Space War | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

weirdsht · 3 months ago

Text

Disillusioned 15 . Limelight

a/n: ngl I'm starting to hate this, it's just that my writing style doesn't seem fitting for a series. maybe next time I'll stick to one-shots lol

also I'm so so sorry for the late update. I'm so busy I haven't slept for like a week now. However, I found some free time to write huhu.

tags: injuries, blood (it's cale what did you expect), self-doubt, war

English isn’t my first language so there will be grammatical errors

Pls don't repost my work anywhere without my permission

Constructive criticisms and any kind of interaction are more than welcome

Requests are currently closed but my ask are still open (read pinned)

Buy Me Dessert

Navigation Masterlist prev . next

_____’s time in Vegas City had been relaxing. There’s no way it wouldn’t be when everyone, mainly Cale, made sure it was. And the healer is grateful to all of them. It gave them time to think and lament over the devastating news they had received.

In turn of that kindness and space, _____ made sure to recover after they left the Caro Kingdom. It wasn’t easy, all they wanted to do was lay on the bed all day and cry. Getting energy for the slightest task, even eating, was so hard. But they still pushed themself, because war was approaching.

The battlefield is calling and its first target is their new home.

So the healer pulled themselves by their bootstraps. Even as everyone tried to assure them that it was fine to not be okay they still spared no effort to recover from their depression and be back to normal.

“Basen-nim will handle communications. The Count and Countess will be on the battlefield. Lily-nim is too young.”

Currently, Cale and _____ are having a disagreement.

“That doesn’t mean you’re the only option left. The Henituse have a lot of retainers and people we can use.”

“But can you really go all out if it isn’t one of your direct people guiding the citizens?”

Cale could only furrow his eyebrows at that retaliation. The two are currently disagreeing whether or not _____ should be in charge of leading and guiding the citizens once the Paerun Kingdom attacks.

Silence lingered for a few seconds. Cale knows that _____ is right. Especially after that northeastern nobles meeting… Cale can only have peace of mind if the one in charge of the citizens is someone he knows. Someone he trusts

_____ reached out towards the redhead, holding his hand to show their resolve.

“Cale, I’ll be fine.”

The healer can feel Cale squeeze their hand back.

“Fine…”

Cale pauses for a moment and _____ thinks they are nearing the end of the discussion.

“But let Raon cast magic on you for disguise.”

Apparently _____ thought wrong.

No way are they allowing the young dragon to cast and maintain magic on them when they need his mana to maintain the barrier. It would also be dangerous to ask another mage for a disguise when there’s always the possibility of their enemies bringing mana disturbance tools.

“Cale you know we can’t do that.”

“Yes, that’s why you better just stay inside the castle walls or beside me and Raon.”

“I can’t do that either. I promise I’ll be safe, plus I’ll be wearing my hood and mask. There’s no way anyone would recognise me.”

Cale sighed as he used his free hand to push his hair back.

Honestly, everyone listening in (the kids averaging 8 years old) doesn’t know why the young master is fighting this losing battle. If it had been anyone else Cale would’ve agreed in a heartbeat.

Plus sooner or later they know he’ll give in to the healer’s wishes.

He always does.

True enough, Cale’s resolve did not even last 5 minutes before he agreed to _____’s request. It’s now official that they will be leading the citizens towards safe zones. They would also be the first line of defence in case enemies get past the barrier and start attacking the city.

Of course, if Cale or someone else from their side gets injured then _____ will run immediately to aid them.

The other people who didn’t listen in on the conversation didn’t even have to ask how it went. Results were obvious from the way _____ was humming on their way out with Cale sighing and petting On and Hong.

“Knight-nim please check if there’s any people left on area d. If you need me I’ll be double-checking our inventory and supplies.”

It’s been a few hours after Cale and _____’s talk. Right now the healer is making sure that everything is in order while their friends are fighting the Indomitable Alliance.

As the Medicus sees Choi Han and the others attack they remember a conversation they had with Cale last night.

The two are the only ones in the room. Well, the only ones awake. The children are with them but Cale has forced them to sleep because they need the energy for tomorrow. A serving of blueberry crumble paired with jasmine tea is being enjoyed as they talk.

“I plan to create a new history. To bring new heroes forward.”

“And I assume you won’t be part of those heroes?”

_____ asked in a joking manner as they refilled both of their teacups.

“Of course not. I only want to win this war and then go rest at the underground villa peacefully.”

Cale stopped speaking to take a bite out of the dessert.

“I’m telling you this because I want to ask you if you’d like to be part of that history. This battle would be a good opportunity to show everyone that you are alive.”

“I… thank you but it would be unneeded.”

The healer’s immediate answer made Cale look at them in confusion.

“Hmm well, that’s a shame the crown prince was also thinking of giving you the Perduellio’s assets as all of them have been found guilty.”

“Is he? I didn’t know such a thing.”

Of course _____ didn’t. Only Cale and Alberu know of such a thing. They're also the only ones who know the sorry state that family is currently in.

“But still… While I do agree with you that this is a good time to do that I still don’t want to do it. My time in the spotlight was not a good experience for me. It would be enough for me to see our friends be known and bask in that light.”

_____ sipped their tea before continuing.

“There’s also the fact that my adoptive family had committed a grave sin. I don’t think it’s right for me to strive for fame when I am still legally part of that family. I will reveal myself, but it won’t be now. I hope Cale and the crown prince can understand…”

Cale nodded in understanding. He's not cruel enough to force someone to do what he wants just because he wants to hide in the shadows. There are already more than enough heroes that he can push into the spotlight.

“I understand, I’ll inform the crown prince don’t worry about it.”

_____ snapped out of their daydream to focus back on their task.

At least tried to.

Right about when _____ is about to talk to another knight they saw Cale bleed. The healer would have left it to the priests and healers near the field if it was just Cale’s normal bleeding. But it wasn’t.

Cale is bleeding from basically every orifice of his body.

And his too far away for _____ to accurately see if he's okay.

“I’ll leave the rest to you knight-nim, I must assist our Commander.”

So the healer runs.

They run the fastest they’ve ever had in their entire left. _____ ran so fast they got there before the healers could.

“__– healer-nim you shouldn’t be here.”

Countess Violan made sure that the healer’s hood and mask were still intact. The fabric on their face had been removed to aid catch their breath from running. Good thing the hood was still intact so it’s unlikely that anyone has seen their face.

“Countess Violan It’ll be fine. Our priority should be the Commander right now.”

_____ has no way of knowing how at that moment, the Henituse’s respect for them grew even more.

The healer turned to Cale to see him talking to what seemed like the air. That must be why his parents are even more worried right now. It looks like the redhead is hallucinating.

Good thing _____ knows the truth. They know that he isn’t hallucinating and that he isn’t talking to thin air. Good thing they know that the words the young master was uttering are directed at a certain invisible dragon.

"It's fine now, I'll be supporting too."

Those words may seem like it was directed at the Countess and Cale but it was directed towards Raon. It's the healer's way of saying that everything will be fine so Raon better follows Cale's instructions.

_____ can’t see Raon nor can they hear his voice in their head, but they’re sure that the dragon has quieted down since Cale had stopped muttering

“Does healer-nim need help?”

The territory’s healer finally arrived. Meanwhile, _____ has not only aided Cale’s vitality of the heart, but they were also healing Choi Han while supporting Mary.

“Yes please.”

Short responses are the only thing _____ can form right now. They must focus all their strength on supporting three people. Choi Han is especially hard to heal. It’s because the Medicus had only known long-distance healing in theory and had never tried it in person.

The far away and moving Choi Han proved to be a difficult patient but _____ is certain that his recovering little by little from the wounds they are slowly absorbing.

Drip

It’s a good thing the colour coding for this event is black. Even as blood drips down their sleeves no one would notice from far away.

But not the people near the Medicus.

Cale’s hand that had been holding onto _____’s arms tightened at the blood dripping down the ground. On the bright side, they are now certain that Choi Han’s shoulder wound is getting better.

Meanwhile, supporting Mary is easier but still proves to be a bit of a challenge. The Medicus has to support her as stealthily as possible to not give away her location. Usually whenever _____ uses her ancient power droplets of water would appear. Then they would cover those droplets with their light ability.

But they can’t do that right now.

Both would be too flashy and would reveal the necromancer’s location.

So they did the next best thing. Which was making their power travel through the cracks of the ground and the wall.

Doing this while doing long-distance healing and supporting the Vitality of the Heart made _____ use more power and energy than they usually would.

“Leave some of the work to the healers and priests.”

The still pale, but doing much better now, Cale whispered. _____ looked at him to assess his condition using their power.

“I’m okay Commander, and it looks like you’ll be okay soon too.”

_____ heard Cale sigh but ignored it. Seeing that his being ignored, Cale proceeded to gather himself so he could stand up again.

And that made the healer relieved.

Sure they knew his fine. _____ knows that the young master has a regeneration power. But seeing him being in commission again made it feel real. Especially after seeing them bleed that much.

That relief was short-lived.

Because tell _____ why was the first thing Cale did was use his powers again. The healer swears that one day Cale is gonna give them a heart attack.

Fortunately, the healer and the redhead have similar temperaments. Both can work well under immense stress and pressure while making it seem like they aren’t breaking that much sweat. Thanks to that _____’s composure didn’t falter and they were able to do what they needed to.

Choi Han is still a problem though. Because of the distance, the healer can’t fully heal him.

‘If only I was stronger’

_____ tries to push unnecessary thoughts away.

‘If only I was a saint’

Just as _____ was about to get pulled in by their thoughts, they felt a familiar chubby paw on their shoulder.

“Kind _____ hang in there a bit more, we’re close to winning! I’m going to go help out Choi Han now okay?”

Raon’s bright voice had served as a wake-up call for _____. Thanks to him the healer can fully focus on their task until the very end.

“I didn’t know you could do that.”

“I didn’t know I could too.”

Cale and _____ are currently on their way to the underground dungeon. Both of them are pale and their clothes are covered with blood but they are walking as if nothing’s wrong.

“When you were at the Paerun Kingdom I started thinking of my powers in a different light, and this was the conclusion of that.”

“But doing this is harder for your body right?”

“As if, you’re one to talk.”

_____ laughed as they saw Cale scrunch his nose at the comment.

“Yes it’s harder but it’s very useful at times like this. It's all thanks to the anatomy books Ron bought for me. Having a more in-depth idea as to how our bodies work allowed me to assess them even from far away.

It’s good to know that as long as someone is within my eyesight I can heal them. Haaa, but I must say, healing Choi Han-nim while he was riding those flying bones is hard.”

Both of them stopped at the entrance of the underground dungeon.

“Since it’s hard and you overexerted yourself, does this mean you’ll leave Choi Han in the hands of other healers?”

The healer laughed again as they waved goodbye. There’s no way Cale is allowing them to enter the dungeon and they have better things to do.

“No promises Cale.”

And if one of those ‘better things to do’ is healing Choi Han, then Cale can find out for himself later.

#trash of the count's family #lout of the count’s family #tcf #lcf #cale henituse #lotcf #totcf #tcf x reader #lotcf x reader #lcf x reader #totcf x reader #manhwa x reader #cale x reader #cale henituse x reader #gn reader #gender neutral reader #x gn reader #x reader #disillusioned . tcf

55 notes · View notes

solar-sunnyside-up · 1 year ago

Text

Community gardens-

Community gardens are a piece of land gardened or cultivated by a group of people, which you can do individually or collectively. So they can be done on private or public land.

Community gardens are not only a testament to community care and mutual aid, it's also almost a radical act of protest and activism. You're combining and sharing resources, which is inherently anti-capitalist, and you're actively protesting climate change by cultivating the land and bringing back native plants. They exist in various forms, it can be located in the proximity of neighborhoods or on balconies and rooftops. They are far from a one size fits all, they are built to meet the needs of the people cultivating them.

History-

this is gunna be a long one yall--

1890s-- Rapid urbanization in Europe and North America lead to community ran gardens to supplement food stocks that the city couldn't maintain causing an obscene cost of food. Thus lead to cities across the world attempting in their own ways to handle the problem-

1893 - Detroit Mayor Hazen S. Pingree took office with citizens even calling for “bread or blood”. In the mist of this crisis the city establishes a program that required vacant lots to be used as gardens and farms for the unemployed citizens have access to food. The deal the city basically makes is 'we will provide the land for you to farm, you feed yourself by farming it!' Later called "Potato Patches" would convert thousands of acres of vacant and idle land in the city for subsistence gardens, then cultivated by the unemployed in order to ensure citizens access to food regardless of the employment or economic status. At its peak, 1563 families participating over 430 acres of donated or City land. This would become so successful that later other cities like Boston and Buffalo would later adopt similar programs.

In England, “allotment” gardens were created to improve working-class people’s food provision, living conditions, and overall health of people living in suddenly crowded city centers.

Marseille in 1896, “les jardins d’ouvriers”, or ‘the workers’ gardens’, were created by a clergyman, with the purpose of reducing the misery of the working class and improving living condition.

1917- The War Gardens Commission was established to call on citizens to become, "Soldiers of the soil," planting gardens to meet some of their own domestic need for food as well as solider rations. (talk about abandoning your citizens for the sake of war >.>) Providing booklets, cartoons, and plenty of propaganda to teach everyone able to grow and preserve their own food supplies. War and Victory Gardens running well through the 1920s into the 50s. Often communties would have a vacant lot or shared spaces to also fullfill any need that wouldnt fit on private land. By 1944, between 18 to 20 million families with victory gardens were providing up to 40% of the vegetables in America.

1970s - In major cities that were fighting both economic crisis and urban decay as a result of white flight to the suburbs. Bringing rise to community groups like The Green Guerillas- built of horticulturalists, gardeners, botanists, and planners who work to turn abandoned or empty spaces in New York City into gardens. The group threw "seed grenades" into derelict lots and developed community gardens, often without going through official channels. It became especially popular after the concerted redevelopment of a dangerous, trash-filled space at the corner of Houston Street and Bowery in Manhattan. That first and now oldest recognized community garden in New York City on a street corner, grew to be over an acre and remains active as of 2023 now named the Liz Christy Garden after its founder who wanted a safe space and good food for children in her community.

2010-Current

Millions of community gardens spanning across the entire world have been reestablished. Particularly over the course of 2012 on wards in order to get back to connecting with the soil and feeding low income housing. Many of the gardens today also hold other community functions like yoga and woodworking classes, socializing centers, holding events, and act as a 3rd space where there are so few these days. Becoming more like a community hub over just a simple source of food.

How do I join or create a community garden?

Join an existing garden- look up one in your area here

To create your own, you will need to do your own research on your city or towns bylaws but generally you'll need a few things-

Gather friends/group to garden with

Secure a place to garden, as well as access to water

Gardening Equipment

Happy Gardening!!

Also @solarpunkani this is for you!!!

#reaping week #solarpunk #gardening #ecopunk #food #permaculture #sprout guide #history

287 notes · View notes

jewish-vents · 8 months ago

Note

Cw for mentions of the current war, and general i/p stuff

There’s this growing narrative in Jewish spaces that we can’t be mad when Palestinians, especially Gazans, do or say something Jew hating because they’re traumatised, and I just… I can’t anymore. I just saw a Jew say it’s fine if a Gazan calls a Jew a kike because ‘do what you need to do’. NO. I am NOT going to tolerate the most blatant fucking Jew hatred just because it’s coming from traumatised people. Like, I get it, be lighter, make sure to critically evaluate the statement and see if it’s actually bigoted or if it’s just in an iffy tone. Trying to tone police very recently and deeply traumatised people IS bad, but saying that they’re allowed to be as bigoted as they want?? What the fuck???!!!

It’s like how there are a few big Palestinian bloggers here who are very Jew hating. People who literally spreading things like blood libel with ‘Israelis kidnap blonde kids from Gaza’, updated well poisoning, saying Zionists need to fucking die, and then on top of that refuse to talk to Jews who aren’t there to tolerate the rhetorics that are being spread by them. And these people are fucking Jew haters. And they’re harming Jews and radicalising a LOT of people into Jew hatred because their audience is so big.

Palestinians can be Jew haters. Bigotry is never acceptable, no matter the status of the perpetrator. Jewish safety is not less valuable than Palestinian safety, they’re fucking equal because everybody in danger deserves to be safe. Fuck all of you in Jewish spaces who try to spread this shit.

It's worth remembering that, while Jews currently have systemic privilege over Arabs in Israel, there is a history of over a thousand years of Jewish oppression in the Muslim world, and antisemitism is just as baked into Islam as Christianity.

Jews have been ethnically cleansed from the entire Arab and Muslim world, and Arab and Muslim governments frequently deflect attention form their own abuses of their citizens by blaming the Jews. This is as true in Palestine as it is in Egypt and Iran.

The situation is complicated, and grace does need to be extended to those currently suffering because of Israeli action, but blatant antisemitic lies cannot be tolerated.

-🐞

#jewish vents #antisemitism

88 notes · View notes

gallifreyanhotfive · 3 months ago

Text

Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know, Part 67

Penelope Gate's first son died when he was less than a year old. (Novel: The Room With No Doors) This is significant because according to some accounts Penelope was the Doctor's mother, which would have made this son the Doctor's half-brother.

Susan was once seriously injured in a building collapse, getting a concussion, a fracture to the parietal bone that put pressure on her brain, major fractures to her clavicle, a few ribs, radius, ulna, tibia, damage to her spine, blood loss, shock, etc. While in a healing coma, she was replaced by an android duplicate, who helped save the day and pilot the last ship off the planet even though she wouldn't be able to be repaired by the people she was helping. (Novel: City at World's End)

One of the Doctor's Tutors at the Academy was called Professor Findle. Once while the Sixth Doctor was seeing vision meant to frighten him, he saw things like Cybermen, Daleks, Davros, and Findle. Findle had chided the young First Doctor for being a "nasty piece of work" with only a desire to meddle. (Short story: Power to the People)

Meg Carvossa was a friend of the First Doctor's. He offered to take her with him with Dodo in the TARDIS, but when she saw the interior, she ran away from fear. Becoming leader of New Houston, she falsified records to make it appear like there are more people than there are in order to send more supplies. She later encountered the Second Doctor. Her falsification of the records caused the servant robots to think like humans, and they wanted to become citizens. After the Doctor let them speak, the robots showed a video of Carvossa confessing to the falsification. She said that the Doctor ruined her. (Audio: The Yes Men)

The Seventh Doctor, after hiding his mind from Sutekh for 20 years, was intended to marry Hatshepsut. He eventually visits Hatshepsut in her dreams, tells her that he would have broken the Laws of Time for her, etc. She kissed him. (Audio: The Eye of Horus)

Ossu had been a warrior kidnapped by the War Lords, being returned afterwards with a cybernetic implant that caused violent, murderous behavior. After being returned, Ossu ate Issu-mul berries to become thinkers like the female members of the tribe. Partway through hir transition, Ossu-hir was "not male or female, not suited for war or thought, or for land or sea." Hir then died at sea. (Short story: War Crimes)

The Eleventh Doctor once told Caitlin that while he was not like Harry Potter for being able to talk to snakes, his uncle had locked him under the stares when he was younger. (Novel: Horror of the Space Snakes)

By one account, Susan's parents owned a concept shop that sold metaphysical, religious, and philosophical concepts. (Short story: Gallifrey: A Rough Guide)

Chloe was a Gallifreyan who survived the destruction of her planet in the War. She was trapped in the body of a little girl, and her second heart withered away and needed to be removed. She got a book that showed her the future, but when she tried to look at the last page, the book took both her eyes and twisted them, bending them out of shape. (Novel: Timeless)

The Tremas Master once sought out the Fleshsmiths after his Cheetah virus infected body started dying. The Fleshsmiths had the technology necessary to create any body regardless of its complexity, including Time Lords (using the Doctor of course). (Novel: Prime Time)

There are horror stories on Gallifrey about Time Lords being forced into a regeneration chain in an alien environment (like the vacuum of space). Each regeneration in the resulting chain would take them further and further away from the norm as they struggled to adapt to the environment. In the early days of travel, early Time Lords would return to Gallifrey and be either quietly killed or trapped inside their TARDISes. (Novel: The Taking of Planet 5)

The Doctor was considered to have failed his time travel proficiency test because, as the Fourth Doctor put it, he didn't take it. He didn't show up because he considered it pointless. Romana believed his behavior was the result of an inferiority complex resulting from his regret over his wasted years at the Academy. (Novel: Festival of Death)

One time while caught in a decompressing air lock, the Seventh Doctor declared, "I will not die while listening to elevator music!" He had been listening to Madame Butterfly by Puccini. (Audio: The Death Collectors) He would later regenerate a while after Grace performed surgery on him (and then got lost...) while listening to Madame Butterfly.

Before being transported to Iceworld, Ace saw Withnail and I in the cinema. She fancied Richard E. Grant. She wondered why the Doctor couldn't be more like him because Richard E. Grant wouldn't treat her like a "educationally sub-normal infant." (Novel: Independence Day) This was likely a joke in reference to Grant's role in The Curse of the Fatal Death, but Grant would go on to play the Doctor again a few years after this novel was published in Scream of the Shalka.

The Seventh Doctor once sent Ace and Hex to steal a crystal called the Veiled Leopard. After having an argument with himself, the Fifth Doctor sent Peri and Erimem to prevent it from being stolen. While Peri and Erimem prevented it from being stolen by a jewel thief, Ace and Hex worked with the thief's accomplice to swap the crystal out for forgeries. (Audio: The Veiled Leopard)

First 1 Prev 66 Next 68

42 notes · View notes

theetherealbloom · 9 months ago

Text

THE SILVER LINING — CH. 5

Chapter Five: Closing In

Summary: After aiding the Republic and the fall of the Empire, you left the Jedi Training Clan on Bogden 3 to help families needing medical care with the call of the Force. You are a kind, warm-hearted healer on Nevarro, treating the citizens and the bounty hunters. Imperial remnants still linger in the shadows, waiting to strike at the perfect moment. Leading you to assist the Mandalorian with rescuing the Child has led you to your biggest adventure yet.

Paring: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive!FemReader (Empath)

Warnings: Violence, Age–Gap Romance, Angst, FLUFF, Eventual SMUT, Swearing, PTSD, Depression, Anxiety, Crying, Suggestive content, Flirting, People pleasing, Flattery, Blood, Blasters, War, Religion References, Aliens, Sith, Character Deaths, One Bed Trope, Awkward, Plot Holes

Word Count: 10k

A/N: I swear I don’t mean to take months to update! I get sidetracked so often by random things and other obsessions. I’m at a point with this story where I get lost with the timeline so then I have to reread what I wrote (try not to cringe at my writing) and then continue on writing the next chapter. Usually, I’m very organized with my outline so I don’t lose track of where I am plot-wise, but Star Wars is— it truly is something else. Anyways, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter! We’re one step closer to the season finale. Love you guys :>

Song: De Selby (Part 2) by Hozier

Previous Chapter → Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

OUTER RIM TERRITORIES, 9ABY – EVENING

It had become apparent to you that Din was touch-starved, even though he never openly admitted it. You could trace the progression of his need for physical contact, starting with subtle gestures like a comforting touch on your elbow or a gentle squeeze of your hand in public. These small interactions held unspoken messages of affection, revealing a side of Din that he rarely showed to the world.

His tactile expressions of intimacy grew more pronounced over time. Your heart skipped a beat the first time he cupped your face, his gloved hand warm against your cheek. The tenderness of that touch spoke volumes, carrying a depth of emotion that words couldn't quite capture. It was a silent promise, a reassurance that you were not alone in this unpredictable universe.

One memory stood out vividly: a day when the three of you found yourselves in a cantina on an outer rim planet. The credits Din had earned were put to practical use, securing supplies and a decent meal for all of you. While Din went to order drinks, you focused on the child, ensuring he was comfortable and fed.

Amid your care-taking, an unfamiliar man appeared, his presence casting a shadow over your booth. You regarded him with skepticism, raising an eyebrow as his words dripped with overconfidence.

"Can I help you with something?" you responded, your tone laced with a mix of caution and annoyance. The stranger's attempt at flirtation was as transparent as the space beyond the cantina's windows.

"What's a pretty girl like you doing all alone in a place like this?" he purred, his words dripping with unmistakable intent.

Suppressing an inward sigh at the sheer predictability of his approach, you let a subtle, sarcastic smile curve your lips. The galaxy had taught you to navigate these situations with a mix of wits and composure.

As the child cooed beside you, curiosity evident in his innocent eyes, you shifted your gaze back to the stranger, his overconfident demeanor oozing from every pore. Your reply was measured, tinged with a hint of dry amusement, "Clearly, I'm not alone and occupied, so if you could leave, please."

Undeterred, the stranger continued with his advances. "C'mon, baby, don't be such a priss. I'll show you a good time."

You were on the cusp of rising from your seat, ready to firmly reiterate your point when a sudden shift in the atmosphere seized the cantina's attention. It was as if the air had changed, thickened by an invisible tension. The chattering voices seemed to hush instinctively.

Amid the palpable silence, Din materialized like an imposing guardian. His presence radiated authority and raw power, his Mandalorian armor reflecting the ambient light, turning him into an almost mythical figure. His voice cut through the stillness like a blade, sharp and unyielding, "She said leave."

The room held its collective breath as the stranger's bluster crumbled in the face of Din's command. The confrontation became a silent battle of wills, one that spoke volumes without the need for further words. The stranger's retreat marked a victory for the indomitable force that Din embodied, leaving the cantina in stunned silence.

Your gaze shifted from the defeated stranger to Din, who stood there with an intensity that both reassured and electrified the room. His unspoken declaration of protection wasn't lost on you, a testament to the bond forged through shared trials and unspoken connections.

And then, with a swift shift, Din's demeanor transformed. His grip on patience loosened, and his actions spoke volumes where words had been unnecessary. In a heartbeat, he had seized the offender, the loud crack of bone echoing through the hushed cantina as the stranger's resistance was brutally halted.

Your breath caught, a sharp inhale of surprise and a hint of awe, as the resounding crack of bone filled the air. It was a stark punctuation to Din's swift and decisive intervention, a thunderous echo of authority that cut through the cantina's previous cacophony. The clatter of utensils and the discordant symphony of bowls added to the jarring chorus, a testimony to the power that had just been unleashed.

The stranger, once so assertive, now resembled a scurrying insect, his escape marked by a trail of spilled drinks and overturned stools. He disappeared into the crowded haze of the cantina, no longer a contender in this silent duel.

Throughout this confrontation, Din's gaze remained unyielding, a force of nature that had momentarily swept the establishment into a hushed reverence. As the patrons bore witness to the unassailable might he wielded, their earlier bravado had crumbled into hushed awe.

With the situation resolved, Din's attention shifted back to you, and that deep, unspoken connection that had been nurtured through shared challenges seemed to shimmer in the charged atmosphere. His gloved hand gently found yours, prompting you to rise from your booth. You cradled the child securely in your arms, his innocent eyes bearing witness to this display of protective strength.

“I could have handled it,” you spoke, your voice soft and understanding, and Din nodded, a faint hint of gratitude in his voice. “I know.”

A beat passed between you, the atmosphere laden with unspoken words. Then, Din continued, his words tinged with vulnerability, "I could not just stand there and do nothing," he said, “I would... the things I would do to ensure you and the child are safe.”

His voice trailed off, leaving the weight of his unspoken commitment hanging in the air. It was a promise forged in the crucible of their shared experiences. A vow to protect and cherish, even if it meant confronting the darkest corners of the galaxy.

You blinked, your gaze filled with understanding and affection. With a gentle hand, you reached out, placing it over his heart, and whispered, "I know. I would too."

To your surprise, he was the first one to initiate the hug. His strong arms wrapped around your waist, drawing you into an embrace that felt surprisingly warm beneath the cool, unyielding exterior of his beskar armor. You still held the child in your arms, creating an intimate tableau of unity. Surprisingly, the hard plate of his chest was comforting, the armor a symbol of his steadfast protection. In his embrace, you felt safe, secure, and trusted, as if nothing in the galaxy could harm you as long as you were in his arms.

Maybe that's why you two ended up where you are now. In the passing days and nights, your connection deepened, communicated through silent reassurances by the simple touch of an elbow or the light squeeze of his gloved hand. Din seemed to always find a reason to be near you, seeking excuses to touch and hold you, even if only for a brief moment.

There were times when you would prepare food for the three of you, and Din would just watch from a few steps away. Despite the helmet, you could feel his gaze as he observed you move around the small workspace, heating the food. You would glance over your shoulder to smile at him, and his heart would flutter wildly.

In those moments, you could see the shimmering outline of his silver aura mixing with shades of reds and maroons, a silent testament to the emotions he kept hidden behind the beskar helmet.

The nights in the cramped bunk leave you no room to move, but you find it surprisingly comfortable, curled up together. The baby sleeps soundly in his hammock nearby, his tiny breaths filling the small space with a sense of peace.

During those nights, Din often surprises you with unspoken acts of service. He'll quietly slip out of bed, leaving you wrapped in the warmth of the blankets, and return with a cup of hot caf. He never says a word, but the gesture speaks volumes, warming not just your body but your heart as well.

Sometimes, he'll softly hum a lullaby, a hauntingly beautiful tune that you've never heard before. The melody dances in the air, soothing both you and the baby, creating a bond that goes beyond words between the three of you.

As you lie there, nestled in his arms, you can't help but think that maybe, just maybe, you've found something exceptional in the vast, unforgiving galaxy.

The peace the three of you had found seemed almost too good to be true. It was a fragile tranquility in a galaxy filled with chaos, and you knew deep down that it wouldn't last long. Still, you couldn't help but hope that maybe, just maybe, you could carve out a small sanctuary for yourselves.

But as you entered the flight deck one day and saw the look on Din's face, you knew that the serenity was about to be shattered. Concern etched your features as you asked, "What's wrong?"

Din didn't immediately reply. Instead, he pressed a button, and a flickering hologram message of Greef Karga materialized before you. His gravelly voice filled the cockpit, delivering a message that sent a chill down your spine.

"My friend, if you are receiving this transmission, that means you are alive," Greef Karga's hologram began. "You might be surprised to hear this, but I am alive too. I guess we can call it even. A lot has happened since we last saw each other. The man who hired you is still here, and his ranks of ex-Imperial guards have grown."

The weight of those words hung heavily in the air, and you exchanged a knowing glance with Din. It seemed that your past had come back to haunt you again, and the peace you had briefly tasted was slipping through your fingers like grains of sand from Tatooine.

Greef Karga's hologram continued to flicker as he outlined the dire situation on Nevarro. His gravelly voice held a tone of urgency as he explained, "They have imposed despotic rule over my city, which has impeded the livelihood of the Guild. We consider him an enemy, but we cannot get close enough to take him out. If you would consider one last commission, I will very much make it worth your while. You have been successful so far in staving off their hunters, but they will not stop until they have their prize."

The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on you and Din. It was clear that this was no ordinary mission; it was a perilous gambit that carried immense risks. Karga's proposal hung in the air, the unspoken words echoing loudly in the confined space of the Razor Crest.

"So, here is my proposition," Karga continued. "Return to Nevarro. Bring the child as bait. I will arrange an exchange, and provide loyal Guild members as protection. Once we get near the client, you kill him, and we both get what we want. If you succeed, you keep the child and I will have your name cleared with the Guild, for a man of honor should not be forced to live in exile. I await your arrival with optimism."

The concern in your eyes didn't escape Din's notice as you voiced your doubts. "This has to be a trap, Din," you asserted, your voice tinged with worry.

Din nodded in agreement, his thoughts mirroring yours. "Possibly."

A small, determined smile graced your lips as you continued, "We're gonna need help... from our friends."

As you glanced at the sleeping Child, the gravity of the situation weighed heavily on both of you. It was a decision that would determine the course of your future and the safety of the innocent life in your care.

After a brief moment of contemplation, Din made his decision clear. Without uttering a word, he steered the Razor Crest toward the coordinates Greef Karga had provided, the ship leaping into hyperspace. The die was cast, and a treacherous path lay ahead, but the bond between you and Din, and the allies you had made along the way, offered a glimmer of hope in the darkness of uncertainty.

SORGAN, 9ABY – DAY

The Razor Crest soared over the lush tree canopy of Sorgan, its engines humming like a contented beast. As the forest gave way to an open area, Din carefully brought the ship down, landing with the grace of a seasoned pilot.

Exiting the ship, you and Din followed a worn path that led to a common house in the distance. The atmosphere was different here, far removed from the cold metal of your ship. It was a place where the rustic charm of Sorgan had found a home.

Inside the common house, the commotion caught your attention. A sizable crowd had gathered, their voices mixing with the clatter of glasses and the low hum of conversation. At the center of the room, a makeshift boxing ring had been set up.

You and Din approached the ring just as Cara Dune, faced off against a male Zabrak fighter. Cara’s movements were swift and calculated, her strikes a testament to her combat prowess. The Zabrak, equally skilled, proved to be a formidable opponent. Each of them tethered to a laser that crackled with energy. The makeshift boxing ring suddenly felt smaller, the tension palpable as the combatants engaged in a fierce battle.

As the bout reached its climax, Cara executed a flawless maneuver, pulling the Zabrak in with the tether that connected them. The Zabrak, caught off guard by her sudden tactic, found himself unable to escape her grasp.

With a swift and decisive motion, Cara forced the Zabrak to tap out, his admission of defeat ringing through the air as the laser tether fizzled out between them.

Cara's triumphant grin illuminated her features as she basked in the adulation of the crowd, her chest heaving with exertion from the intense match. With a playful twinkle in her eye, she extended a victorious finger, punctuating her declaration to the assembled spectators.

"Pay up, mudscuffers! Come on. That's mine, thank you. All right, thank you," Cara exclaimed, her voice carrying over the din of the cheering crowd. In response, several patrons begrudgingly reached into their pockets, producing credits to settle their wagers.

You, Din, and the Child entered Cara's line of sight, drawing her attention away from the crowd. Din's voice, deep and commanding, cut through the noise of the common house as he addressed her directly.

"Looking for some work?" Din inquired as he broached the subject with Cara and you all decided to take a seat and have a drink as you discussed the situation.

"It's a straightforward operation," Din elucidated to Cara, his voice low and measured. Leaning forward, he rested his left forearm on the table, his gaze unwavering as he outlined the details. “They're providing the plan and firepower. I'm the snare.” Meanwhile, you tended to the Child who fussed beside you, keeping one eye on the conversation.

"With the kid? And her?" Cara inquires, casting a glance your way.

"That's why we're reaching out to you," you respond softly, meeting Cara's gaze.

Cara sighs, weighing the risks. "I don't know. I've been advised to keep a low profile. If anyone runs my chain code, I'll be in a cell for life."

"I thought you were a veteran," Din remarks, his silver helmet catching the light as he speaks. The defeated Zabrak fighter drops a credit on the table and nods at Cara, who offers a smile. "Come back soon," she calls after him.

"I've been a lot of things since. Most of them come with a life sentence," Cara explains, her expression serious. "If I so much as board a ship registered to the New Republic, I'm—"

"We have a ship," Din interjects, his voice firm. "I can take you there and back, and there'll be a handsome reward waiting. You can live free of worry."

"I'm already free of worry, and I'm not in the mood to play soldier anymore," Cara says, taking a sip from her cup. "Especially not for some local warlord."

"He's not a local warlord," Din interjects, his voice low and with a growl. You finish the statement, your tone was distant, eyes glazed. "He's Imperial."

Cara takes a deep breath and offers a small smile as she nods. "I'm in."

INSIDE THE RAZOR CREST

OUTER RIM TERRITORIES, 9ABY – SPACE

"Does your contact need to vet me?" Cara leans against the side of the cockpit panel, her arms crossed. Din shakes his head. "Doesn't know you're coming."

Cara raises an eyebrow. "Really? That could be a problem."

"It won't. But if it is, that's his problem." Din shrugs before exiting the cockpit. You give the Child a gentle pat as he sits beside you, then follow Din down the ladder and to the weapons locker with Cara.

"Is he alright up there alone?" Cara asks, nodding towards the cockpit.

Din nods. "Yeah." He opens the locker, the doors hissing as they slide apart. Gesturing to the array of weapons, he adds, "Pick one."

"Do you trust the contact?" Cara inquires, brows raised as she sifts through the locker's contents, a grin playing on her lips.

Din lets out a sigh. "Not particularly," he admits, his tone tinged with a hint of wariness. "He and I had a run-in last time I was there on some Guild business."

"So then why are we going?" Cara questions, her tone laced with curiosity as she glances over at Din.

"I don't have a choice," Din responds, his voice carrying a weight of resignation. He pauses, then reaches out to pull you closer to his side, anchoring you against him as he leans against the ship's panel. "You saw what happened on Sorgan. They'll keep sending hunters," he continues, his gaze steady. "The kid and her... they'll never be safe until the Imp is dead."

"And you're okay with bringing them back there?" Cara asks skeptically, a hint of concern coloring her tone. You frown slightly, your expression conveying a sense of determination as you respond, "I can take care of myself."

"What about the kid? We need someone to watch that thing," Cara remarks, gesturing towards the Child above in the cockpit. Din nods in agreement, acknowledging the need for a trustworthy guardian. "Yeah."

"You got anyone you can trust?" Cara inquires further, her gaze shifting between you and Din.

You feel Din's thumb brush over the exposed part of your hip, a comforting gesture that sends a subtle warmth rippling through your body. He hums softly, his presence enveloping you in shades of silver and grey, a reassuring aura amidst the uncertainty of the moment.

Suddenly, the ship begins to rumble, Cara stumbles, her hands reaching out to brace herself against the wall. Meanwhile, Din swiftly pulls you closer to his body, a protective instinct evident in his actions. With a gruff huff, he releases you and heads back up the ladder.

You and Cara follow Din up the ladder, only to find the Child meddling with the controls, causing the ship to thrash and rumble. Din takes charge, settling into the pilot's seat to stabilize the Razor Crest once more.

"We really need someone to watch over him," you remark, holding the Child securely in your arms while Din nods and agrees, “Yeah.”

MOISTURE FARM, ARVALA-7 — SUNSET

The Razor Crest settles on the desolate planet of Arvala-7, its rocky surface bathed in the warm hues of the setting sun. As the ramp lowers, you step out alongside Din and Cara, the hovering pram carrying the Child trailing close behind.

Your eyes fall on the Ugnaught Din mentioned, a figure named Kuiil, who greets you warmly as you make your way to his home. With a nod, you duck your head to enter the tunnel-shaped structure, eager to get to know Kuiil.

"It hasn't grown much," Kuiil remarks, his eyes fixated on the Child.

Din nods in agreement. "I think it might be a Strand-Cast."

Kuiil shakes his head slowly. "I don't think it was engineered. I've worked in the gene farms. This one looks evolved. Too ugly."

"I had a dream recently," you begin, your voice soft but earnest. "A creature like him named Yoda appeared to me… this little one is likely to be one of his kind."

Din listens intently, his gaze underneath his helmet fixed on you as you speak.

"It’s why I followed you, at first," you continue, turning to face him. "Because the last time the Empire had Force Sensitive children…" You trail off, overcome with emotion. "I just couldn’t leave him there."

Din's gauntleted hand gently clasps yours, emanating a comforting warmth that sends a tender sensation coursing through your veins. You feel a soft flush rise to your cheeks as you meet his gaze, the visor of his helmet lending an air of mystery to his expression.

Kuiil clears his throat, his gaze shifting between you and Din. "You and Din make a formidable pair," he says with a nod, his tone carrying a note of respect. "A union like yours brings strength and unity in uncertain times."

A flush of embarrassment warms your cheeks, prompting you to avert your gaze momentarily. However, Din's firm grip on your waist draws you closer to where you sat, anchoring you in his reassuring presence.

Meanwhile, Kuiil turns to Cara with a playful glint in his eye. "This one, on the other hand," he remarks, "looks like she was farmed in the Cytocaves of Nora."

You gesture toward Cara with a smile, introducing her to Kuiil. Cara responds with a nod, her own smile reflecting the camaraderie in the room.

Kuiil's eyes settle on Cara's arm, where the telltale tattoo of a Dropper catches his attention. "You were a Dropper," he observes, prompting Cara to raise an intrigued eyebrow. "Did you serve?" she inquires the Ugnaught.

Kuiil settles onto a stool, his expression taking on a thoughtful cast. "On the other side, I'm afraid," he admits. "But I'm proud to say that I paid out my clan's debt, and now I serve no one but myself."

As Kuiil speaks, the room is suddenly interrupted by the mechanical steps of an approaching figure. You glance toward the entrance and see an IG-11 droid entering, carrying a tray of steaming drinks. Instantly, both Din and Cara spring to their feet, blasters are drawn, their defensive instincts kicking in. Meanwhile, you remain seated, a mix of confusion and curiosity etched on your face.

The IG-11 droid, its metallic voice crisp and clear, breaks the tension with an unexpected offer. "Would anyone care for some tea?"

Kuiil, ever composed, raises a calming hand towards Din and Cara. "Please lower your blasters," he urges, his voice steady and assured. "He will not harm you."

"That thing is programmed to kill the baby," Din asserts, his voice tinged with anger as he keeps his blaster trained on the IG unit.

Kuiil interjects calmly as IG-11 places the tray on the table in front of you, "Not anymore. It was left behind in the wake of your destruction.”

“I found it laying where it fell. Devoid of all life. I recovered the flotsam and staked it as my own in accordance with the Charter of the New Republic. Little remained of its neural harness.” Kuiil recounted to you and you listened intently.

"Reconstruction was quite the challenge, but not impossible," Kuiil reflects, his voice carrying the weight of experience. "It had to learn everything anew. This is not a task for mere machinery. It demands patience and repetition. Day after day, I nurtured its growth with care and affirmation. And as its experiences expanded, so did its personality."

Din remains skeptical, his tone betraying his doubt as he inquires, "Is it still a hunter?"

"No," Kuiil replies firmly, "but it will defend."

As the IG-11 droid offers, “Tea?” Cara grabs the cup and takes a sip while you exchange glances with Kuiil, sensing the sincerity in his words reflected in the warm hues of the sunset. With a reassuring touch, you rise from your seat and place a hand on Din's outstretched arm, gently guiding down the blaster. "He speaks the truth," you affirm softly. "It’s okay. We’re okay."

Reluctantly, Din secures his blaster back into its holster, his tension easing slightly as he acknowledges the reassurance in your words.

"I've encountered some difficulties," Din admits as he approaches Kuiil, who is tending to the Blurrg.

Kuiil emits a thoughtful hum. "Seems like you've been managing quite well. Especially with her support," he remarks, nodding in your direction. You're engrossed in play with the Child, introducing the little one to the droid, while Cara observes with interest.

As Din watches you, bathed in the warm glow of the setting suns, he can't help but marvel at your radiance. Your smile outshines even the brightest stars in the galaxy. In that moment, he feels a profound sense of gratitude for having someone like you by his side.

A warm sensation stirs within Din as he watches you laugh at something the Child finds amusing. The primal urge to claim you as his own surges within him, an instinctual longing he struggles to suppress. Beneath his helmet, his jaw tightens as he fixates on you, momentarily lost in the intensity of his emotions. When you glance his way and offer a smile and a wave, his heart swells with longing, yearning for a world where he could have you all to himself, free from the burdens that weigh upon you both.

Swallowing hard, Din tears his gaze away, attempting to regain his composure. "That's not... that's not why we're here," he insists, his voice tinged with an edge of determination.

"I assumed as much. There must be another reason for your return," Kuiil observes with a knowing hum.

Din's voice carries a low, earnest tone as he addresses the Ugnaught. "I need your services."

"I'm retired from service," Kuiil responds, his voice measured.

Ignoring the subtle refusal, Din presses on, his words tinged with a hint of desperation. "I can pay you handsomely, Ugnaught.”

The Ugnaught, displeased by Din's persistence, harumphs. "I have a name. It is Kuiil."

Din's gaze remains unwavering as he makes his request clear. "I require someone to protect the child, Kuiil."

Kuiil shakes his head, his resolve unwavering. "I am not suited for such work. I can reprogram IG-11 for nursing and protocol duties."

Din's voice grows firmer, his tone resolute. "No. I do not want that droid anywhere near him."

"Why are you so distrustful of droids?" Kuiil asks, his tone curious yet skeptical.

Din's response is matter-of-fact. "It tried to kill him."

Kuiil nods, understanding. "It was programmed to do so. Droids are not inherently good or bad. They are neutral reflections of those who imprint them." He looks to Din, hoping to impart some sense to the Mandalorian.

Din's voice carries a distant gravity as he speaks with a serious tone. "I've seen otherwise."

"Do you trust me?" Kuiil's gravelly voice breaks the silence, his gaze steady on Din.

Din nods thoughtfully. "From what I can tell, yes."

"Then trust my work. IG-11 will join me," Kuiil asserts, his tone resolute. "And we do it not for payment, but to protect the child from Imperial slavery."

A weight seems to settle on Din's shoulders as he exhales softly. Kuiil's continues, "None will be free until the old ways are gone forever."

Din takes a moment to consider, his mind churning with the implications. Finally, he meets Kuiil's gaze and nods. "Okay."

"The blurrgs?" Din queries, a hint of confusion in his voice as Kuiil starts to walk away.

Kuiil pauses, turning back to face Din. "And the blurrgs will join me as well," he affirms, his tone carrying a sense of finality.

Kuiil turns once more and continues on his way, leaving Din standing there with a contemplative expression. As he disappears from sight, his parting words linger. "I have spoken."

INSIDE THE RAZOR CREST

OUTER RIM TERRITORIES, 9ABY – SPACE

After securing the blurrgs in the Razor Crest's cargo hold, Din takes control of the ship's controls, steering it towards Nevarro. With the ship set on autopilot, you and he descend the ladder into the cargo hold, where the Child sits in his hovering pram, eyes wide with curiosity as he emits a soft cooing sound.

As you assist Kuiil with feeding the blurrgs, your attention is drawn to the sounds of grunting nearby. Slowly turning, you find Cara and Din engaged in an arm wrestle, their muscles straining against each other in the dim light of the cargo hold. Despite the intense competition, they appear evenly matched.

As you observe Din's impressive display of strength, a flutter of excitement stirs within you, mingled with a hint of something more intimate. His determination and power are undeniably captivating, igniting a subtle thrill that courses through your veins.

"I got you, Mando," Cara declares with a huff, her voice laced with determination.

Din's response is confident as ever. "Care to double the bet?" he challenges, his voice resonating with a subtle intensity. You catch a glimpse of his gaze behind the visor, sensing his determination.

Intense heat rises to your cheeks at the sound of his gruff grunt, the raw energy of the moment heightening your anticipation. You’ve been buzzing with anticipation for weeks.

But the heat fizzes out as a moment of panic grips you as Cara struggles, her hand dropping abruptly from the arm wrestling match. It startles both you and Din, prompting him to rise to his feet with urgency.

As you rush over to the Child, you hear Din's firm voice addressing the little one. "No! No, no! Stop! We're friends, we're friends. Cara is my friend!" he asserts, his tone authoritative.

Stretching out your hand, you tap into the Force, attempting to gently ease the Child's grasp on Cara. Gradually, the tension dissipates, and you release your hold on the Force, feeling a wave of relief wash over you. Eager breaths escape your lips, leaving you slightly winded from the unexpected exertion.

Cara gestures toward the Child and voices her concern, "That is not okay!"

"Hmm. Very curious," Kuiil remarks, his gaze shifting to you and the Child.

"Curious? It almost killed me!" Cara exclaims, her alarm evident.

"The story you told me of the mudhorn now makes more sense," Kuiil adds.

"Mudhorn?" You interject, your curiosity piqued. You glance over at Din, who has now moved closer to you, checking to ensure you're okay as you still catch your breath from the ordeal.

"What is it?" Din inquires Kuiil while keeping you close by his side.

"What it is, I don't know. But what it does, this… This I've heard rumors of," Kuiil replies.

Cara shoots the Ugnaught a skeptical glance. "What? When you worked for the Empire?"

Kuiil stands his ground, his tone resolute. "When I was sold to the Empire, in indentured servitude."

"Yet somehow, you walk free," Cara retorts with a scoff, rising to her feet. But Kuiil remains unfazed. "I bought my freedom through the skill of my hands and the labor of three of your human lifetimes. Do not cast doubt upon what I am nor whom I shall serve."

As the swirling colors of intense emotions overwhelm your senses, you feel a surge of turbulence within. It's a challenge to maintain composure, especially given your empathic abilities.

Sensing your discomfort, Din's demeanor softens, a rare glimpse of tenderness shining through. In a voice touched with kindness, he addresses Kuiil, "Tell you what. I could really use your craftwork right now. Can you pad this container so the child can sleep better?"

Kuiil acknowledges the request with a nod, his expression solemn. "I shall fabricate a better one. Then perhaps this Dropper can see how one can win their freedom with the skill of one's hands."

With purposeful movements, Kuiil sets to work, the hum of machinery filling the space as sparks fly from the welding gun. Meanwhile, the Child observes with wide-eyed curiosity. Feeling Din's comforting touch on your lower back, he guides you back up the ladder toward the cockpit.

You move to take a seat on a nearby chair, but before you can settle, Din swiftly pivots from his pilot chair. His strong hands encircle your waist, pulling you onto his lap in a single fluid motion. You emit a surprised yelp as you find yourself seated sideways, legs draped over his, and your head nestled against the cool surface of his beskar pauldron. Instinctively, you loop your arms around his neck to maintain your balance.

"Din! Cara could walk in any second," you whisper urgently.

He responds with a nonchalant hum. "She won't mind."

"But—"

"You seemed winded earlier, using your..." Din's voice trails off as he adjusts a few controls, and you finish his thought, "The Force?"

"Yes," he confirms.

You release a sigh and reach up to lightly touch the side of his helmet, wishing you could see beyond the reflective visor. "Din, I'm alright. It just took me by surprise. Later, I'll speak with the kid about using the Force responsibly. It's something we need to ensure he understands."

As you utter the word "we," something ignites within Din's chest. The notion of you wanting to stand by his side, to be integrated into his clan, strengthens his need to claim you as his own, to initiate the formal courtship.

With a gentle movement, he leans his helmet closer, as he uses his left gloved hand to hold the back of your neck, bringing your forehead to rest against his. The warmth of your skin contrasts with the cool touch of his beskar armor. You instinctively close your eyes, sharing a moment akin to the gesture known as the keldabe kiss.

You emit a soft sound, unable to suppress it as you sense him gently squeeze the back of your neck, expressing his desire to draw nearer. Din gruffly murmurs, "Soon, Cyar'ika. Soon."

"You better be fully clothed in there, I'm coming in!" Cara's voice echoes through the ship before the doors hiss open and shut, signaling her entrance. She finds you still seated on Din's lap, a sheepish expression on your face.

Wide-eyed, you attempt to slide off Din's lap, but he pulls you closer in a tighter grip. Your embarrassment intensifies, your cheeks burning as Cara smirks at you. Wanting to hide, you bury your face between Din's neck and shoulder, the heat of the moment igniting a mix of desire and embarrassment throughout your body.

Cara meticulously cleans her blaster as she addresses both of you, "So, we're heading to Nevarro?"

Din, still seated with you on his lap, engages in the conversation, "Have you been there before?"

"No," Cara responds, settling into her seat with the blaster and a rag in hand. "We lost a lot of our forces there. The city's dug in pretty deep. No cover when you drop in. It stayed in Empire control 'till the end of the war.”

Din nods in acknowledgment. "The warlord we're taking out was an Imperial officer.”

Cara's curiosity piques. "What station?"

Din turns his chair, keeping you snugly in his hold, as he explains, "Hard to tell. No insignia anymore.”

You attempt to wriggle out of his grasp once more, but his arm around your midsection keeps you firmly in place.

"We took out the safehouse when we snatched the kid." Din continues, his tone grave. "More Imps have reinforced since.”

Apologies for the oversight. Here's the revised text, retaining the original dialogue:

"There's something more going on," Cara remarks as she begins to clean a different rifle.

"Maybe. We'll find out more when we land," Din replies, his gaze fixed on the controls.

The doors hiss open, and IG-11 steps inside, its robotic voice announcing, "I have prepared second meal. Would you care to be served here or below?"

"I'm not hungry," Din says flatly.

The IG-11 leaves.

Cara's chuckle echoes lightly in the cockpit. "You got a real thing for droids, don't you?" she teases.

Din's voice remains monotone as he responds, his helmet reflecting the dim light. "I got a real thing for that droid."

"The Ugnaught said he rewired it," Cara mentions, her tone casual.

Din shakes his head, his expression hidden behind the helmet. "That droid was designed to kill things. I don't care how much wiring he replaced. It goes against its nature."

Cara's departing words linger in the air as she heads back down to the cargo hold, leaving you and Din alone once more.

A hushed quiet falls between you, the hum of the ship's engines filling the space. You break the silence, the words catching in your throat. "We need to get ready..."

Din's voice is soft, barely above a whisper. "Just let me hold you a little longer, Cyar'ika," he murmurs, his tone laden with affection. You meet his gaze, feeling a warmth spread through you, and with a quiet nod, you reply, "Okay."

NEVARRO, 9ABY – DUSK

The Razor Crest descends into a desolate corner of Nevarro, the distant hum of its engines fading as it settles on the uneven terrain. Your pulse quickens, the rhythm echoing in your ears as you adjust the cloak robe to conceal your lightsaber, keeping it out of sight.

The four of you dismount the ship, perched atop blurrgs, and spot Greef Karga approaching, accompanied by three other bounty hunters including a human, Nikto, and a Trandoshan. He strides toward your party, a mix of urgency and caution in his steps. "Sorry for the remote rendezvous, Mando, but things have gotten complicated since you were last here,” he says, coming to a halt a few paces away.

As he surveys the group, Greef Karga remarks, "It appears that introductions are in order. It seems we've both provided a security detail," His gaze shifts to Cara. "I'd suggest the shock trooper stays back to guard the ship. These lava fields are swarming with Jawas."

"She's coming with us," you assert firmly.

"But the town is now run by ex-Empire. If a Rebel Dropper is with us, they'll all get their hackles up," Greef Karga argues, attempting to dissuade you.

"She's coming," Din insists.

Greef Karga grudgingly relents. "Fine," he seethes, then relents once more with a resigned sigh. "Fine." Gesturing to Cara, he adds, "Just cover your tattoo. No need to draw unnecessary attention."

"Now, where's the little one?" Karga inquires. Din activates a button on his bracer, causing the hovering pram to glide forward, its hatch hissing open. Greef Karga leans in to inspect the Child, drawing uneasy gazes from the group. Fingers hover near blasters as tension mounts, and you clench your jaw.

"So, this little bogwing is what all the fuss was about. What a precious little creature. I can see why you didn't want to harm a hair on its wrinkled little head," Greef Karga remarks, lifting the Child briefly before returning it to the hovering pram. Din swiftly closes the hatch with another press of his bracer, bringing the pram back to his side.

As the group prepares to embark on their journey across the lava fields of Nevarro, Greef Karga lays out the plan. "Well, I'm glad this matter will be put to rest once and for all. The sun drops fast on Nevarro. We can walk for a spell, camp out at the riverbank, then make our way into town at first light," he explains. You nod in agreement as your group rides the blurrgs, ready to traverse the treacherous terrain.

NEVARRO, 9ABY — EVENING

As the group settles in for the night, a campfire crackles, casting flickering light on the surrounding faces. You find a spot on the ground, seated cross-legged like the others. Positioned between Din and the Child, Kuiil patiently feeds the young one while you quietly finish your meal.

Across the fire, the three bounty hunters sit, their faces illuminated by the dancing flames. With a keen sense, you observe them, your empathic force powers awakening to perceive shades of darkness and red, hinting at hidden motives and deceit.

As you unconsciously shift closer to Din, preparing to whisper your observations, Greef Karga's voice cuts through the quiet night. He gazes at the Child, remarking, "I guess the little bugger's a carnivore. Never seen anything like it. They were ready to pay a king's ransom for that thing. Must be for some kind of highfalutin menagerie."

"Let's go over the plan again," Din interjects, brushing off Karga's comments.

“We three enter the common house. We show the client the bait. We join him at the table. And you kill him,” Greef Karga explains matter-of-factly, as if it's the simplest thing in the world.

Din quickly follows up, “Tell me about his reinforcements.”

“They're all ex-Empire. As soon as they lose their paycheck, poof, they'll all scatter,” Greef Karga replies nonchalantly.

“And what if they don't?” You press further.

“They will,” Greef Karga asserts confidently.

Din shakes his head, “That's not good enough.”

Greef Karga sighs heavily, “If, for argument's sake, a few of them don't realize that I'm their best path to alternative employment and they elect to react impulsively, then these three fine Guild Hunters, along with that battle-hardened shock trooper, and your Jedi will cut down anyone who bucks.”

“I’m a medic, not a Jedi,” you mumble with a clenched jaw.

“How many will there be?” Din asks Greef Karga.

“No more than four,” Karga replies as he rises from his seated position, heading over to the large piece of meat roasting over the campfire. He reaches out to grab a piece, confidently stating, “He travels with, at most, a Fire Team. Trust me. Nothing can go wrong.”

However, his confidence is shattered as a large beast emerges from the darkness. It's a species of winged, predatory reptavians native to Nevarro. With a large wingspan, scaly and dry skin, and a dragon-like appearance, these reptavians have a pointed snout, a mouth filled with sharp teeth, and two brownish eyes.

One of the reptavians swoops down, sinking its teeth into Greef's arm, eliciting a pained grunt from him. Chaos erupts as blaster fire fills the air, echoing against the rocky terrain. Each member of the group takes aim, firing at the winged assailants with precision.

With swift movements, the Mandalorian secures the Child in his hovering pram, shielding the youngling from harm. Meanwhile, you ignite your lightsaber, its vibrant purple hue casting an eerie glow in the dim light. Swinging it fiercely, you fend off the winged creatures with determined strikes.

Amidst the commotion, a blurrg and a Trandoshan bounty hunter fall victim to the creatures' relentless onslaught. As one of the reptavians swoops down to snatch another blurrg, it meets its demise in a barrage of blaster fire, falling lifeless to the ground. Unfortunately, in the chaos, a blurrg is accidentally struck by friendly fire.

After the Mandalorian's flamethrower repels the winged creatures, a tense silence settles over the group, broken only by the occasional groan of pain from Greef Karga. As the dust settles and the smoke clears, everyone remains on edge, waiting to see if the creatures will return.

Moving swiftly, Kuiil rushes to Greef's side, his concern evident in the furrow of his brow. "He's hurt badly," Kuiil announces, his voice tinged with worry.

"I'm fine, I'm fine. I'm fine. I'm fine. Ow!" Greef insists through gritted teeth, his bravado failing to mask his discomfort. You kneel beside him, your focus on assessing his injury. The deep bite mark left by the reptavians catches your attention, and you speak with authority, "Hold still."

"They got you good," you murmur, your focus still fixed on the deep wound.

"How bad, Cyar'ika?" Din's voice comes from behind you as you work.

"Bad. The poison's spreading fast," you reply, urgency lacing your tone as you inject Greef Karga with a pen, hoping it will slow the venom's progress.

"So this... This is how it happens," Greef Karga says between labored breaths.

Cara rolls her eyes. "Don't be so dramatic."

"I need another medpac! Got any other medpacs?" you urgently call out.

“Anyone? I'm guessing that's a ‘no’,” you say with a huff, frustration creeping into your voice. You glance back at his arm, noting the venom's continued spread. “It's still spreading. This isn't working.”

“Get this thing outta here,” Cara exclaims, prompting you to realize that the Child had approached unnoticed.

Observing the Child, Kuiil interjects, “Wait.”

The Child extends his tiny green hand and places it atop Greef Karga’s arm. With a wince, Karga cries out, “He's trying to eat me!”

You sense it too—the subtle hum of the Force emanating from the Child. With each focused use, the Child begins to harness his abilities, channeling them to gradually heal Greef Karga’s arm, leaving no trace of a scar. Witnessing such skill from one so young fills you with awe; Force Healing of this magnitude is exceedingly rare. A collective exhale fills the air, each member of the group seemingly sharing in the astonishment of witnessing such a miraculous feat.

NEVARRO, 9ABY – DAWN

As the sun begins to ascend, casting a dim light across the rugged landscape, the group presses onward. Smoke billows from the small volcanic vents scattered throughout the rocky terrain of Nevarro. An uneasy silence envelops the group, with Greef Karga's companions forging ahead, leaving you, Din, Cara, and Kuiil to tread quietly behind on foot, the Ugnaught trailing along atop the last remaining blurrg.

Cara speaks softly, directing her question to both you and Din. "You think they're having second thoughts?"

Din responds in a hushed tone, his voice barely audible. "Could be. I need your eyes."

"I'm watching," Cara confirms with a nod.

An hour later, your group arrives at the outskirts of Nevarro, with Greef Karga leading the way and you, Din, and Cara close behind. "I guess this is it," Greef Karga remarks, gazing out at the view. But something tugs at your gut, a feeling that something isn't right.

Before you can react, Greef abruptly turns around and fires at his associates, sending them collapsing lifeless to the ground. The sudden violence startles you, Din, and Cara. They swiftly unholster their blasters, aiming them at Greef Karga, while you grasp your saber hilt, activating it in readiness to deflect any blaster fire.

Din and Cara keep their blasters trained on Greef Karga, who raises his hands in surrender. "There's something you should know," he confesses as he ensures that both the bounty hunters are truly dead and kicks away their blasters. "The plan was to kill you and take the kid. But after what happened last night, I couldn't go through with it."

Your brow furrows as you listen to Karga's plea. "Go on," he continues, "You can gun me down here and now, and it wouldn't violate the Code. But if you do, this child will never be safe."

Cara grits her teeth and shoots Karga a scowl. "We'll take our chances," she asserts firmly.

"The Imperial client is obsessed with obtaining this asset. You tried to run, but where did it get you?" Greef Karga reasons, causing Cara to grow more agitated. "This is ridiculous," she tells Din.

"Perhaps you should let him speak," Kuiil interjects calmly, while you maintain a steady gaze on Greef Karga.

Karga points out, "Listen, we three need the client to be eliminated. Let me take the child to him and then you two…"

"No," Din interrupts firmly.

Cara clenches her jaw, her blaster aimed at Greef Karga. "Let's just kill him and get outta here," she suggests, her frustration evident.

You feel the Force connecting you through your empathic powers, sensing the true colors of Greef Karga. Taking a deep breath and deactivating your saber, you speak up. "He's right."

Din lowers his blaster, while Cara hisses in disbelief, "What are you doing?"

"As long as the Imp lives, he'll send hunters after the child," Din explains to Cara, who responds with a warning, "It's a trap."

"Bring me," Din suddenly interjects.

"What?" you exclaim, taken aback, while Greef Karga echoes, "Bring you?"

"Tell him you captured me. Get me close to him and I'll kill him," Din states with determination, and Karga nods, “That's a good idea. Give me your blaster.”

As Din hands over his blaster, it prompts you to protest as you take a step closer to him. "No! Hold on, it should be me. Bring me instead," you insist.

Din begins, "Cyar'ika—"

You sharply turn your head to face Greef Karga. "Do they know?"

Greef Karga begins to respond, but you cut him off, your voice tense with urgency. "Do. They. Know?"

"Yes," he confirms.

"Okay," you swallow, your mind racing through the options and landing on a decision. "You bring me in. Say that Cara captured me and convinced Mando to trade me instead of the Child." You then hand over your saber hilt to Greef Karga who pockets it.

"No. Absolutely not. You are going back to the ship with Kuiil and the Child," Din interjects, his tone firm.

"But without her or the Child, none of this works!" Karga exclaims, trying to reason.

"I’m going with you," you assert, stepping closer to Din. As he meets your gaze through his visor, you see the conflict in his eyes. He starts to protest, but you cut him off with a whispered plea, "I am going with you, and there is nothing you could say to convince me otherwise. We face these things together." You reach out and touch the side of his helmet, feeling the cool metal beneath your palm as you press your foreheads together. "Let me be there for you, like you were for me. Please."

Din hesitates, visibly conflicted. Finally, he lets out a shaky exhale. "Maker help me. Fine, fine. But you listen to me, alright? When I tell you to run, you run. Got it?"

You nod, determination in your eyes. "Okay."

Din grunts out his plan. "Kuiil, ride back to the Razor Crest with the child and seal yourself in. Once you're inside, engage ground security protocols. Nothing on this planet will breach those doors."

"Here's a comlink," Kuiil says, handing Din the device. "I will keep the child safe."

Kuiil looks at Cara and advises, "Don't forget to cover your stripes."

"Let's go," Din nods, prompting everyone to prepare. He turns to you, offering a pair of silver binders. You secure your hands in front of him, feeling a flush of embarrassment at the familiar sensation of the cuffs.

With a click, your hands are bound, and he asks softly, "Not too tight?"

Feeling playful, you respond with a cheeky grin, "You could make it tighter."

There's a warmth in his chest, almost like laughter. His mouth quirks into a smirk. "Cyar'ika, you are going to be the death of me."

You freeze, sensing the shift in his demeanor beneath the helmet. It's almost like awe or something.

"What?" he asks, catching your reaction.

"You're smiling, I can tell by your voice," you note, smiling yourself. Your eyes meet the visor of his helmet, and his skin prickles with awareness.

Suddenly, he wants you a lot closer. In his lap. Straddling him, maybe. Your hands in his hair, and his in yours. But there's no time for that. You clear your throat, breaking the moment, and gesture toward Greef Karga, who is waiting for the other pair of stun cuffs to restrain Din.

Din regains his composure, walking over to Greef Karga to be cuffed. As he does, Cara conceals her tattooed arm with a cloth, and Kuiil picks up the Child from the hovering pram. With your group heading in opposite directions, you hope fervently that everything will go according to plan.

NEVARRO, 9ABY — DAY

Greef and Cara escort the bound Mandalorian, you, and the hovering pram toward the town. At the gate, they come across two scout troopers riding 74-Z speeder bikes.

"Chain code?" one of the Scout Troopers demands, eyeing Greef Karga suspiciously.

Greef nods toward you and Din. "I have a gift for the boss."

The Scout Trooper repeats, "Chain code?" with insistence. Reluctantly, Greef retrieves his card and hands it over.

The Scout Trooper scans Greef's card. "I'll give you 20 credits for the helmet," he offers, eyeing the Mandalorian's helmet.

Greef lets out a fake laugh. "Ha-ha! Not a chance. That's going on my wall."

Din leans in to Karga, whispering, "On your wall?" Greef shoots him a pointed look. "Go with it."

"Go ahead," the Scout Trooper says, returning Greef's card. The group proceeds forward into town.

Cara gives Greef a sharp look. "You said four. There are more than four troopers."

Greef explains quietly, "Four guarding the client. Many more here in town. Things got really heated once Mando crashed the safehouse."

Cara suggests, "Slip him his blaster."

Greef shakes his head. "Not yet."

You approach the cantina's entrance, Greef Karga announcing, "Here we are." As the door slides open, the once bustling space is now eerily empty, save for the watchful eyes of the stormtroopers stationed inside, their presence unsettling.

Greef nods towards the troopers. "You see? Four." He then leads you and Din towards the Client, gesturing towards both of you. "Look what I brought you. As promised."

The Client moves closer to Din, his fingers tracing the intricate patterns of Din's beskar chest plate. "What exquisite craftsmanship. It's remarkable how beautiful beskar can be when forged by its ancestral artisans."

Your expression twists in disgust as you watch the Client touch Din's armor. Then, the Client's attention shifts to you, his hand reaching out to grab your face. You meet his gaze with a defiant glare as he remarks, "Ah, the Jedi. Word travels fast whenever your kind is spotted." His tone drips with disdain. "What a waste."

As the Client releases your face, you feel a surge of revulsion. Sensing Din's simmering anger, you brace yourself.

"Can I offer you a libation to celebrate the closing of our shared narrative?" the Client proposes to Greef Karga, who accepts with a nod.

An RA-7 protocol droid sets to work at the bar, preparing drinks for Greef and the Client. Gesturing towards a nearby booth, the Client invites, "Please, have a seat."

As you take your place, the Client begins, "It's regrettable that your people suffered so. Just as in this situation, it was all avoidable."

He turns his attention to Din. "Why did Mandalore resist our expansion? The Empire enhances every system it touches." You let out a derisive scoff, prompting the Client to continue, undeterred. "Judge by any metric. Safety, prosperity, trade, opportunity, peace. Compare Imperial rule to what is happening now. Look outside." He gestures towards the window. "Is the world more peaceful since the revolution? I see nothing but death and chaos."

You grit your teeth and suppress a retort, sensing the Client's emotions swirling before you, a dark maelstrom of black and red hues.

"I would like to see the baby," the Client requests.

Greef Karga clears his throat. "Uh... It's asleep."

"We'll all be quiet. Open the pram," the Client insists, narrowing his eyes. You swallow nervously, feeling a sense of unease. But before the situation can escalate, a stormtrooper approaches the Client and murmurs something discreetly. The Client stands abruptly. "Don't think me to be rude. I must take this call."

A stormtrooper sets up a holoprojector as the Client strides over to it. Under the table, Greef Karga discreetly unbinds his restraints, while Din swiftly does the same for you, his hands deftly removing the cuffs. "Give me the blaster and her saber hilt," he instructs Karga, his tone firm.

"You get one shot," Greef Karga reminds Din as he hands over your saber hilt. Din passes it to you with a determined nod.

Cara leans in close, her voice barely a whisper. "This is bad. You said four."

"Well, there are more. What can I tell you?" Greef Karga replies quietly.

A tense moment hangs in the air, and you sense a shift in the atmosphere. Before you can react, gunfire erupts from outside the cantina, catching everyone off guard. The shots strike the Client and his stormtroopers, sending them sprawling to the ground. Instinctively, you, the Mandalorian, Cara, and Greef dive behind a nearby table for cover. Amidst the chaos, the RA-7 protocol droid is caught in the crossfire and falls to the ground, incapacitated.

Taking cover behind various pillars, you, the Mandalorian, Cara, and Greef cautiously assess the situation. Through the shattered windows of the cantina, a line of death troopers becomes visible, their ominous presence sending a chill down your spine. As if that weren't enough, an Imperial Troop Transport rolls onto the scene, unloading a squad of stormtroopers, further escalating the situation.

"Four stormtroopers?" Cara scoffs, her expression darkening. "This is bad."

The Mandalorian quickly contacts Kuiil via comlink, his voice urgent. "Kuiil? Are you back at the ship yet?" After a tense moment of silence, he presses, "Are you there? Do you copy?"

"Yes!" Kuiil's voice crackles through the comlink.

Din wastes no time. "Are you back at the ship yet?"

"Not yet," Kuiil replies.

"Get back to the ship and get the kid out of here. We're pinned down!" Din's command is sharp and resolute.

The roar of engines interrupts the chaos, drawing your attention outside. An Outland TIE fighter swoops into view, its retractable solar collectors gleaming in the sunlight. The Imperial officer emerges from the cockpit, clad in full black attire, his cape billowing dramatically in the wind. His voice carries over the commotion as he declares, "You have something I want."

"Who's this guy?" Cara asks, her confusion evident.

"You may think you have some idea of what you are in possession of, but you do not," the officer asserts ominously.

"Kuiil, are you back at the ship yet? They're onto us!" Din urgently tries to reach Kuiil through the comlink.

No response.

Din attempts again, growing increasingly desperate. "Kuiil, come in!"

Still, there's silence.

"In a few moments, it will be mine," the officer threatens, his tone dripping with menace.

"Kuiil! Do you copy? Kuiil!" Din's voice echoes with urgency.

"It means more to me than you will ever know," the officer adds, his words sending a chill down your spine.

"Kuiil! Are you there? Come in, Kuiil. Kuiil, come in," Din pleads desperately.

"Kuiil? Are you there? Do you copy? Kuiil? Kuiil!"

TAGLIST: @wastingspaces @avengersheart @lunatic1012 @keepingupwiththeskywalkers @mxltifxnd0m @syviiss @luckyzipperscissorsbat @avengersheart @dins-riduur-anthe @lizlil @n7cje @scoliobean @ofmusesandsecrets

#din djarin x reader #din djarin fluff #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x y/n #din djarin x fem!reader #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x empath!reader #din djarin x forcesensitive!reader #ethereal writes #thesilverliningch5 #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian rewrite #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian #the mandaloria/reader #pedro pascal x reader

60 notes · View notes

gerec · 4 months ago

Text

SPACE AUS - PART 2

The Edge of What Doesn’t End by populuxe

When a mysterious object appears on the moon, Moira MacTaggert calls in two experts with very specific mutations to investigate.

Unfortunately for everyone involved, after years of breaking up and getting back together again, those two experts have finally broken up for good—and they’re the last people in the world who should be stuck together on a spaceship.

burn the land and boil the sea by kaydeefalls (series)

In which the Unification War begins, Erik leads the Browncoats' mutant faction, and Charles searches for something worth fighting for. (Fusion with the Firefly 'verse)

Remind me what you're looking for by pearl_o

"There's a dozen ships here you could get transport on," Erik points out.

"I'm asking you," Charles says.

A Beginner's Guide to Star-Forming Event Horizons by midrashic

Charles Xavier is not thrilled to be on the USSAS Magneto, with its missions to the back-end of nowhere and its captain who is famous for having violated the Prime Directive. But appearances can be deceiving.

And we pulled each other like gravity by hllfire

Erik accompanies Charles, Crown Prince of the Xavier Empire, to his first diplomatic meeting on the planet Themis, where he finds out something about the Prince and they end up talking about the past and how their paths had crossed before.

The Sleeping Beauty in the Ivory Tower (- or Erik Lehnsherr is a hopeless romantic) by ximeria

There is a tale, out among the stars, of a sleeping beauty in an ivory tower.

Infinite Distance by lachatblanche

When they encounter an unfamiliar and seemingly-abandoned ship in the middle of nowhere in space, Captain Charles Xavier of the spaceship Graymalkin heads out to investigate.

Infinite Distance (Finite Time Remix) by SlightWeasel

A month ago, far-flung Genosha went dark on every communications channel.

Whatever happened there, it has little enough relevance for young Charles Xavier, resident of Graymalkin-- until the day he receives a distress call from Erik Lehnsherr, Genosha's only surviving citizen...

Pit stop by diner_drama

Charles was pretty happy with his lot, on the whole. As chief engineer, he spent the majority of his time teaching hot-shot new mechanics and aspiring ship-builders. He could confidently say that he had created an excellent work environment that really allowed these young workers to flourish and grow. The only real challenges, apart from the occasional Very Large Fire (bad) and having to fill in his yearly expense reports (catastrophic), were arrogant pilots who believed that the importance of their ship gave them carte blanche to treat the repair crew like garbage.

Case in point, Erik Fucking Lehnsherr.

Yes, he was the best racing pilot in the galaxy. Yes, he had designed his ship personally and it was fundamentally perfect in every important way. Yes, his steely blue eyes made Charles feel light-headed whenever they came up on his viewscreen.

He was still an asshole.

Neither Rhyme Nor Reason by unveiled

Charles liked to tell people that the first time they met, Serik punched a kitten. (Or, the one where Erik is an angry Vulcan, Charles is still a telepath, and grief still shapes their lives.)

A Vision of Peace by Gerec

They call his people 'monsters' and say that a telepath is incapable of something as universal as falling in love.

But they're wrong about Charles Xavier, heir to the throne of Cerellia; for everything he does in life, he does for love.

It's Magic! (A Gift Remix) by Gerec

The Oracle agrees to help Erik locate Shaw, if Erik agrees to return to him after the mission.

And now that the deed is done, it's time to keep his promise.

Flirting with Death (Eternal Remix) by Gerec

Erik Lehnsherr is the latest in a long line of vampire hunters, their legacy going back a thousand years to the days before space travel and the existence of life beyond Earth. He's tracking one of the most dangerous blood-drinkers they've ever known, and he's determined to save the man she's targeted as her next victim.

Now if he could only convince Xavier that his life is in very real danger...

SPACE AUS - PART 1

#gerec rambles #cherik #fic rec #gerec's fic rec #space aus #part 2

20 notes · View notes

spop-romanticizes-abuse · 1 year ago

Text

so this post is inspired by a person who sent an ask to @my-nitpicking-self (i hope you don't mind me tagging you), who mentioned the confrontation between katara and zuko in atla, in reference to glimmer's and catra's relationship in spop. i thought it was an interesting comparison, so i'm going to expand on it.

so two very similar scenes in atla and spop: katara and zuko being stuck together in crystal catacombs and glimmer and catra being stuck together in horde prime's ship. two things to note here - zuko was beginning to heal at this point and had almost completely given up his mission of capturing aang, while catra has just finished conquering salineas and was neck-deep in villainy.

as soon as katara sees zuko, she becomes outraged. keep in mind, zuko did not kill katara's mother. but she still had a valid reason to be mad at him. she holds him accountable for everything he has done.

K: Why did they throw you in here? Oh, wait, let me guess. It's a trap. So that when Aang shows up to help me, you can finally have him in your little Fire Nation clutches!

K: You're a terrible person! You know that? Always following us! Hunting the Avatar! Trying to capture the world's last hope for peace! But what do you care? You're the Fire Lord's son. Spreading war and violence and hatred is in your blood!

Z: You don't know what you're talking about.

K: I don't? How dare you! You have no idea what this war has put me through! Me personally! The Fire Nation took my mother away from me.

here, zuko doesn't try to argue with katara until she implies that violence and aggression is an inherited thing, because he's from the fire nation. zuko accepts his mistakes but he is also aware that being a fire nation citizen or even royalty alone doesn't make you a bad person. even then, he doesn't raise his voice or lash out at her, he just calmly disagrees.

after katara mentions her mother, he apologizes and sympathizes with her.

Z: I'm sorry. That's something we have in common.

K: I'm sorry I yelled at you before.

Z: It doesn't matter.

K: It's just that for so long now, whenever I would imagine the face of the enemy, it was your face.

katara also apologizes but zuko understands that it was completely in her right to blame him. and then we get to the crux of the issue. katara's mother was killed years ago but she still hasn't been able to move on from the grief.

now, of course, zuko again turns back to villainy but this was an important confrontation. and it wasn't the only one. as you all know, after zuko's official redemption, the gaang still doesn't trust him and katara is the last person to forgive him. she is still upset and disappointed by the way he betrayed her after they had begun to bond in the catacombs. and zuko has to prove his loyalty before katara could forgive him.

now let's come to glimmer and catra. catra DIRECTLY caused the death of glimmer's mother. and it was recent. glimmer had been grappling with her grief in the last season, to the point where she spirals into a small corruption arc. s4 of spop does NOT forget angella's death.

so obviously, you would expect there to be a confrontation between glimmer and catra in s5, especially since they were alone together in a confined space. but let's see what happened.

Glimmer: You again. Why do you keep coming back here?

Catra: Just...bored, I guess.

Glimmer: No, I mean, Horde Prime told you not to talk to me. He's gonna catch you eventually. Why risk it? ...You're lonely, aren't you?

so far, no confrontation, no apology.

Catra: What do you know? You're the prisoner here. I can go where I want. So, stay here by yourself for all I care.

Glimmer: Okay, okay, you're right. It...helps having someone to talk to. Even if you're the last person I'd ever want to be stuck here with.

Catra: Trust me, Sparkles, the feeling is mutual.

and just like that, they're on better terms now. glimmer doesn't bring up angella's death, she doesn't bring up the way catra treated adora, how she and bow were kidnapped by catra, nothing. they seem more like casual rivals than enemies here. catra doesn't seem guilty in the slightest, she just has to threaten to leave and glimmer immediately makes her stay.

and not just that, they joke about adora's paranoia that was rooted in her trauma, as if it's just a fun quirk. at this point, it's clear that the writers are not even trying to make it seem like they don't favor catra over all the characters.

and the one time glimmer somewhat confronts catra—

G: Please, Catra. Do one good thing in your life!

C: Don't talk to me like you know me! You don't know anything about me!

of course, catra shuts her down immediately. and afterwards, even when catra saves glimmer, she makes it clear that she's only doing it for adora. while on the surface, this might still come off as a good deed, it's clear from her later behaviour that catra's goal wasn't to help either adora or glimmer. my best guess is that she was practically awaiting death at that point and didn't expect to face the consequences of her actions, so she wanted to go out with one good deed, much like shadow weaver.

it's crazy how zuko, who was just an antagonist and has done very little to directly hurt the gaang, faced the consequences of his actions and got a drawn out and detailed redemption; while catra, who spent the entire series hurting the protagonists out of her own interest, gets off scot-free.

any time her past actions are brought up, they are mentioned in the vaguest terms possible i.e. “she made some mistakes” or “shs hurt people”. it's so clear that the writers were hoping that if the other characters forgot everything that catra did, the audience would do the same. and the worst part is that they're right. 90% of the fandom were willing to accept catra's redemption because no one in the show ever holds her accountable or confronts her properly.

#spop critical #spop #spop salt #spop criticism #spop discourse #she ra #anti catradora #anti catra #anti spop #anti c//a #antic//a #anticatra #anticatradora

95 notes · View notes

slaymitchabernathy · 7 months ago

Text

The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived

| this story was inspired by the songs "How Did It End?" & "The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived" by Taylor Swift |

| a companion to 'Pretty' |

Coriolanus holds the single rose in his hand with such vice that the stem has gone limp.

He’s been to enough funerals to know how this goes, what’s expected of him. He attended his little sister’s funeral.

“I’m going to see your sister.”

Those words play over and over in his head while the officiant drones on and on about what an exemplary citizen Soarynn Snow was.

Was any of it true? Any of the time they spent together?

He thinks about all the time he spent with Soarynn. Seven years of life with her. He remembers the day he found out she was ticklish. He tickled her just to hear her laugh, to hear genuine happiness from her. She always seemed so miserable with him even though he’d given her everything she could ever dream of.

Coriolanus thought he had a good grasp on grief. He lived through the war, after all, the Dark Days, and even managed to come out on top. He had the name, the wife, the child. Now two of those are gone.

He had found it extremely difficult to fathom the loss of his own child, his firstborn son. It just didn't seem like something that could happen to him, not when he was on top of the world. Not when they had the nursery all ready, the baby clothes hanging in the closet, the stuffed animals lining the shelves. Soarynn had thrown herself into preparing their son's nursery and transformed the empty space into a warm, loving environment.

They had been so close. So close. But there was a complication, undetected until it was too late and suddenly Coriolanus was receiving phone calls left and right telling him that his wife was found unconscious on their library floor in a pool of her own blood.

Why didn't she call him?

It was a question that plagued his mind as the doctor asked him who they should attempt to save, his son, or his wife.

He chose his wife of course.

Being a father of a dead child was bad enough, but to be a widowed man at such a young age? No. Coriolanus couldn't afford that. He knew their son wouldn't make it into the world alive and if he did then it wouldn't be a pretty sight. Another thing he couldn't afford was having a son who would undoubtedly be the laughingstock of Panem. With the possibility of disfigurements and mental lapses, it was easy for Coriolanus to make the call.

He knew it would devastate Soarynn beyond belief. As much as it terrified her, he knew she wanted to be a mother. She got pregnant rather quickly after their wedding, allowing Coriolanus to confirm once again that Soarynn was of value to him and their family.

He stood out in the hospital hall as they attempted to save his wife. He only caught a small glimpse of them cutting her open before he looked away. He couldn't watch. Then, his son was born.

He didn't make a sound. Stillborns don't cry.

They stitched her up and that was that. One dead child, and one grieving wife.

Coriolanus hadn't known what to do, what to say. Sure, he could be comforting when he needed to be, like when Soarynn had one of her little breakdowns after they had sex. But he was always prepared for those.

How do you prepare for the death of your firstborn child?

So he hadn't said anything, left her to talk with the doctor, and watched the nurses wheel in their dead child in his bassinet for Soarynn to hold for the first and last time. In a way, he was impressed that she even had the strength to do so. He never wanted to hold their son, to see a painful reminder of what could have been.

His curiosity had gotten the best of him once he joined Soarynn's side again, once he saw the pain and sorrow in her eyes. How empty her gaze was.

"What did he look like?" He had asked her, resting a hand on her head.

"He looked like a Snow," she had answered.

And that had been good enough for him.

꧁ ꧂

Coriolanus had however been prepared for the aftermath of their son's death. Only because he knew what it was like, to lose an infant due to unforeseen circumstances. When his baby sister died, his parents were quick to move past it.

He felt it was better that way, no need to linger in the past when there was a bright future ahead of them. They could have another child. He'd confirmed that with the doctor before they left. Soarynn wasn't left barren and unable to give him more children and she certainly would give him children in due time.

They'd arrange a small funeral, grieve privately, and more forward publicly. Simple as that. He knew his wife could get sentimental, especially over stupid, little things like books and things of that nature. But he didn't need her to get caught up on what could have been.

He expected them to move on.

He didn't expect Soarynn to make a scene in front of their close family and friends before storming out of the penthouse, leaving without so much as a goodbye. Coriolanus had been furious, absolutely furious with her behavior. He wasn't the one who lost their child. He did everything right, everything by the books and still they lost him. It. They lost it.

Then she lost it.

Coriolanus knew where to go, to find her. She went home. He could give her whatever she wanted, fill their penthouse with all her favorite things but it still wouldn't be enough for Soarynn.

Glen had been upset, and understandably so. Coriolanus couldn't imagine the state that Soarynn showed up in and without their child on top of all that. But he was quick to smooth things over, win Glen over once again, and promised to come back in two days to collect Soarynn.

He got a phone call the next morning. He'd been surrounded by family and friends, namely the Creeds and Clemensia who all watched silently as Coriolanus was delivered the news that bore the death of his wife.

"Drowned in the bathtub."

That's what Glen mumbled before hanging up.

Coriolanus didn't know what to say, what to do. How do you drown in the bathtub? He knew enough to know that it had to be done on purpose. This was no accident. Soarynn killed herself.

He got a wide array of reactions when he shared the news. Most were filled with tears and condolences. It felt so strange to him to know that Soarynn wasn't in their room, curled up under the covers with her cat and a book.

She wasn't in the library, sitting in his favorite chair while she looked through old photo albums.

She was gone. How strange to be gone. To end your own life.

He had two funerals to plan now.

He'd only said a few words before disappearing into his room, "We'll tell no one except all of our friends." As far as everyone else was concerned, she died during the miscarriage. Women die all the time giving birth. What makes Soarynn so special?

But she had been special. Hadn't she? She'd been kind, and caring, she would've been a good mother. He'd never know how it would've ended.

But he couldn’t help himself from wondering how it all ended.

Were there signs? Had she cried out for help?

He tore their bedroom apart looking for clues, for something to hold onto, to tie him to her. After hours of endless searching, he finally came across a book he had never seen before, tucked away in their closet in an old shoe box. He’d held the small book in his hands, simply staring at it before he finally gained the courage to open it.

Her diary.

He hung me on his wall. Not literally but it felt like it. It always feels like I’m some animal pelt when he makes me take those pills. Sometimes I wish I were an animal pelt. At least I’d be dead.

It was no wonder she kept this so hidden from him. He would’ve been livid if he found this when she was still alive. How strange to think that Soarynn wasn’t alive anymore. He would never be able to smell the sweet scent of vanilla again without thinking of the girl who sat in front of him in class that year. Little did she know that choosing that seat would cost her life.

He kept reading. There were so many entries, all devastating in their own way.

I wish I could run away. But I can’t, he trapped me. We’re having a baby in eight months. Coriolanus thinks it’ll be a boy, I hope so too for his sake. I don’t think he’d like a girl. Everyone has been congratulating me on the news but they do that a lot. Congratulate me. On the wedding, on the penthouse, on our relationship. If only they knew. He shows me off, loves to do it. I hate it. I hate it here.

He flipped to the end of the diary, not in the mood for her whining and nagging. The last entry was so short, but the way it was written made Coriolanus feel as if his throat was tightening up. It was like she knew he’d find her diary, would read it, would go to the last entry. She sounded so angry.

Were you sent by someone who wanted me dead? Did you sleep with a gun underneath our bed? In fifty years will this be declassified? And you’ll confess why you did it. And I’ll say, “Good riddance.” Cause it wasn’t sexy once it wasn’t forbidden. I would’ve died for your sins instead i just died inside. And you deserve prison, but you won’t get time. You kicked out my stage lights, but you’re still performing. In plain sight you hit. But you are what you did. And I’ll forget you but I’ll never forgive. The smallest man who ever lived.

At six-foot-two and at the top of the world, Coriolanus Snow had never felt so small. And for the first time in a very long time, much like his wife, he broke down.

꧁ ꧂

"If anyone would like to share a memory or a few kind words, please do so now," the officiant says, somberly looking into the massive crowd of Capitol elites who have gathered to honor and mourn the death of Soarynn Snow and her stillborn child.

Coriolanus stares down at the ground, at her coffin. It's black and sleek with roses engraved around it. The proper casket for the wife of a Snow. A smaller one sits next to hers. Their sons.

Coriolanus squeezes the white rose in his hand a little tighter as someone walks up to the front, stepping onto the podium.

"Miss Soarynn was a fine Capitol lady."

Coriolanus looks up to see the doorman to their apartment standing at the microphone, "She always greeted me with a smile, asked how my day was going. She even brought me cookies one day, it...it was my birthday. She was a kind woman and my heart goes out to you Mr. Snow, your wife was a lovely lady."

Coriolanus manages to give the doorman a tight-lipped smile. It's hard to smile with that letter playing over and over in his head, those words haunting him now. Were they all watching him now?

His wife, his son, his sister, his mother-in-law?

He wasn't given much notice once the letter arrived on his doorstep. Glen Nightingale all but stormed into the penthouse, collecting every memory of Soarynn, including the cat. The look Glen had given him was all Coriolanus needed to know that Soarynn had told him everything. Or at least something.

He could feel the hatred radiating off of Glen as they stood next to each other.

"Soarynn Nightingale was too good for this world."

Coriolanus doesn't need to look up to know that Sejanus Plinth has taken to the microphone. "She was too gentle, too kind and trusting and that trust was taken advantage of over and over again by someone she blindly trusted. I hope that she and her son can find rest in the afterlife."

A few more people go up to speak, all noting how kind Soarynn was, how beautiful and gentle that girl was.

Was, was, was.

Eventually, Coriolanus is ushered to the podium. He knows he has to give out somewhat of a statement, he can see all the news outlets at the back of the crowd, eager to hear about the tragic events that have suddenly befallen the Snow family.

He clears his throat before speaking, "My gratitude extends to each and every one of you who has attended the funeral of my wife and son today. My wife was loved by many, my son never got the chance to be loved."

He knows that's not true. Soarynn loved their son before he was born.

"We were blind to unforeseen circumstances. My wife's pregnancy was complicated and in the end, led to a tragic and fatal miscarriage that took the lives of the two people who meant the most to me in the world."

Whispers can be heard throughout the crowd. Some people believe him. Coriolanus has always been good at playing for the cameras, telling people what they want to hear. Other whispers are doubtful of his love for Soarynn and their son.

And he has Glen Nightingale to thank for that. Three days after her death, it came out that Sorynn had filed for divorce. Claiming that she was the victim of domestic abuse, sexual violence, and coercion, and numerous amounts of other accusations that did nothing but taint his reputation.

As if her death wasn't hard enough, Coriolanus now has people coming at him left and right, questioning him and his marriage. His father advised him to keep his head down, to deny such claims, and to continue to share his love and adoration for Soarynn.

He just doesn't know if he has any to give.

"I loved my wife. She was kind and generous, she was a devoted woman who was loyal to her family and her country. She would want us to celebrate her life and our sons, not mourn it."

There, he's told people what they want to hear, and now, he's ready to hear what he wants to hear.

꧁ ꧂

The reception dinner is quiet for the most part, only small conversations take place. Many people have come up to Glen to give their condolences. One wife and one daughter gone. Coriolanus fears that he can now relate to Glen on that level and he so badly wishes that he didn't.

"Do you think you'll ever remarry?"

Coriolanus looks to his left to find Livia Cardew addressing him, her eyes pinning him down. A bit of an inappropriate question to ask at a funeral, especially his wife's funeral but Coriolanus will be damned if he comes off as unpolite by ignoring her question.

"I think right now I need to focus on putting the pieces back together," he answers, ignoring the glare that Glen sends his way.

Livia hums and turns back to her dinner leaving them in another uncomfortable silence. Soarynn certainly left a mess behind for him to clean up. Not only her death but now legal issues as well. What a selfish thing to do.

꧁ ꧂

They opted to leave the casket open for those who wanted a moment alone with Soarynn before they buried her six feet in the ground. Coriolanus had declined to do the same with his son. No one would ever know what he looked like, what he could have looked like. What could have been.

Many people go up to Soarynn, he watches them whisper words they probably don't mean. He doubts most people really knew her. He barely did himself it seems. Eventually, he gathers the courage to see his wife one last time. At least her death wasn't horrendous and she didn't slit her wrists open along with her face. She looks like she's sleeping.

But she'll never wake up.

He leans down until it's just the two of them, not a word between them. She smells like vanilla. Her skin is pale, it lacks the normal tan hue she always had.

"You left me," he whispers, "left me to deal with this mess."

Soarynn doesn't respond.

"You know, I keep going over it in my head. What if I never noticed you? Never took interest in you? Would my life be this fucked if we never met? Do you know Soarynn? Do you know how different things would've been for the both of us? If you're listening from Heaven do me a favor and ask someone up there if they can see, if they can see what it would look like if our paths never crossed. And if they can find something, somewhere where you never ruined my fucking life, you ask them something for me, okay?"

Coriolanus has to force himself to take a deep breath as he whispers to his wife, berating her from the grave.

"How did it end?"

He straightens up, giving Soarynn one last look. She was fun, quiet, and obedient for the most part. She tried to be good for him, and he had to give her credit for that.

Her hair has been done in curls, her makeup is light and her lips are a soft pink even though he knows that under all that makeup she's pale and her lips are blue.

She looks so pretty.

| Final Part |

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

53 notes · View notes

willowshimmer · 1 year ago

Text

So I watched Fiona And Cake and I'm hooked...

First episode:

I love how it started with all the colors and how it felt! The voice acting was spot on and it felt surreal with the pastel theme.

"I don't wanna go to work......" Relatable... Especially since my school will start soon...

The way Cake is acting really true actually! Minus the ice... Also when cats ears and nose are cold that means they are healthy! If their hot then that means the cat is sick.

I honestly did not know Fionna's job was a thing....

When I saw Marshall Lee I screamed. I live for his DESIGN! And his personality.

Love Fern's hair. That's all I have to say.

Man Fionna's Boss is short I thought they were a kid.

Love Fionna's reaction from getting fired...And how she technically flipped of her now old boss.

PRINCE GUMBALL or should I say Gary...

Gary's so adorable! I would love to try the cookies he made! They look delicious and sweet and the latté there!

Fuck Gary's boss! He don't deserve to work with that short ass dwarf (No offense to anyone who's short) he deserves better!

When Marshall started singing I was just amazed by the voice acting again! Like such voice is amazing for him!

Oh the poor coffee...

Aw! Marshall likes the cookies! I hope he meets Gary some episode!

I don't trust this version of Lumpy space princess...

I LOVE HUNTER! They are so gentle and nice! I get a bit of gender enby vibes from them.

I LOVED THIS EPISODE!♥️

Below is the next episode review cause this is getting a bit long and cause I explore a few dark topics.

Second Episode:

I missed Simon so much!

I don't like how he's basically a human attraction to the citizens. I just don't feel comfortable with that cause of anxiety and I don't like getting asked questions in general.

I personally think that kid should've just left Simon alone and not talk about his past to HIS ENTIRE FAMILY!

I do think what's interesting about the trauma of Simon is that he's so traumatized from his past as the "Ice King" to the point he can't look at ice without freaking out. It's like soldiers who have been in wars and are so traumatized by loud sounds to the point they just at times attack.

I like Finn's new design! It matches well with now personality.

And I like how TV (One of Jake's kids) is with him.

So wait Jake's DEAD!?

Blindfolded into a forest... What could go wrong?

I really love the forest layout cause of colorful and bright it is! It blends in with the vibe it's going for.

I was at first like "Woah there's blood!" When Jake killed the fish but then it made sense cause Adventure Time came out year's ago and they now they're audience has grown since then so it makes sense.

I would love to hear more stories from before Simon was the Ice King.

"SUCK ON THESE NUTS!" YES!!

More things that I noticed about Simon when he was fighting the bear thing is that he's not a fighter, he's not violent, he's just trying to fit in the best he can but even he can't cause of how people keep reminding him about his past as the Ice King.

I know what Finn did was irresponsible cause he just blindfolded Simon and led him into a forest but let me explain. He's lost Jake. And when Jake dies he was probably and most likely devastated since he lost the only person he was mostly close to a that was like a brother to him. That's his way of coping with stuff! But he doesn't know alot about Simon so he tried to do the one thing that helped HIM! He tried.

I was so HAPPY to see Marceline and Bubblegum again!

I find it very funny that Bubblegum's skin sticks to the tattoo gun.

Love Marceline's new hair cut as well.

I just Simon to be happy with his wife! Is that to much to ask!?😭

Also I think I catched a Steven universe reference when Cake came out Simon's hair.

This episode was heavy and full of emotion to unpack and I think I like that!

I love the series so far and hope more of it soon!

Also I'M BACK!

#fionna and cake #fionna campbell #cake the cat #marshall lee #simon petrikov #marceline #princess bubblegum #finn the human #adventure time #prince bubblegum #lumpy space princess #jake the dog #bubbline #gumlee #gary prince

72 notes · View notes

ang-900 · 9 months ago

Text

The Original Voltron Adaptations Vs Their Original Japanese Counterparts.

Beast King Go-Lion:

Go-Lion/Voltron's backstory is that he got split due to his hubris after thinking he could take on the space goddess.

Voltron is a sentient being who lived long before time.

Voltron's title is king of the beasts.

All the pilots, save Fala/Allura, are from Earth.

All the boys are effectively in the same boat as VLD Shiro and have the gladiator backstory.

Earth is dead and gone, consumed by World War 3 by the start of the show.

Allura is canonically 16.

Raible/Coran's a strategist.

Altea/Arus's people were assumed to all be destroyed (especially the royal family), but they're all hiding out.

Allura's parents and siblings are executed by Daibazaal/Zarkon's hand while she was a year old baby. Zarkon didn't know she existed.

Hiroshi Suzuishi/Pidge is descended from Ninja.

There's so much blood and gore. People get cut in half vertically and horizontally. We get the privilege of watching people drop dead on screen with these horrifying faces and screams. Zarkon and Sincline/Lotor drink blood, too.

Honerva/Haggar has this bs called occult science.

Akira Kogane/Keith and Allura are so slowburn to the point it might not exist between them.

King Raimon/Alfor's ghost comes back from the grave to tell the paladins how much they suck.

Pidge threatens to eat the space mice twice.

Shirogane Takashi/Sven dies and and a later episode introduces his younger brother, Ryou/Sven, who was captured as a slave among others before Earth was fully destroyed.

Cannibalism

A tragic side character commits suicide at the end of an episode

Amue/Romelle's older brother is willingly turned into a robeast. Her older brother and father are both murdered by the Galra during a battle with Voltron.

Earth is completely destroyed and uninhabitable. The boys become honorary citizens of Arus.

A scene depicting Pidge's mother shows her seeing him off his mission. It's the last time he sees her.

Lotor has a dream about his mother where it suggests Zarkon had a hand in her disappearance. A flashback occurs showing us she was a good person and was killed for moral differences.

Coran's son, Saint/Garret, died as an infant while he and his mother were escaping from the castle. They are buried by a local group of people. The Galra dig up this grave to clone him.

Hys/Nanny is shot by Garret and dies.

A father-daughter bond is implied between Coran and Allura when the latter comforts the former after the Garret incident.

The Galran foot soldiers are living beings.

Romelle almost died via firing squad.

One notable robeast involved a snake like being who survived a civil massacre amongst her people and was introduced burying her deceased child. She adopts Pidge within the same episode. She dies at the end from blood loss.

Another notable side character was a sand person. Allura befriends this one by giving it her bracelet. The sand person is turned into a robeast. It's implied the sand person dies at the end, though it is unclear why.

During the final battle, Lotor sends out trapped prisoners in bubbles as bombs so Voltron can't move without killing them. Lotor also shoots them as missles. Haggar also shoots at the prisoners so Voltron can move and end Lotor's career.

Haggar's motive in helping Voltron lies in that Lotor killed Zarkon.

Haggar is Zarkon's mother.

Ryou dies fighting Lotor.

Honerva dies. Zarkon dies. Lotor dies.

Voltron: Defender of the Universe:

"We don't need clothes." Keith, 1984.

Arus is still alive, they just get attacked.

Voltron's backstory is that Haggar disguised herself as said space goddess and wrecked Voltron into five pieces.

Coran's a diplomat.

Voltron's title is King of the Robots

Galaxy Garrison exists here.

Allura grew up an only child and seldom saw her parents because they were busy.

Sven is severely injured and is, instead, sent to another planet to recuperate, but gets captured as a slave on planet Doom and thinks he's crazy.

Zarkon disrespects Haggar likes it's nobody's business.

King Alfor built Voltron.

Zarkon has a nephew

Pidge has a sister who's stated to be training as a pilot.

That same tragic side character is said to have returned to her home planet offscreen

Romelle's older brother is willingly turned into a robeast. He swims out to see in the middle of a battle with Voltron. Romelle's father in consequence goes mad and is implied to have died as a result.

Balto is ravaged by Lotor's forces. Pidge becomes an honourary citizen of Arus.

Pidge is an orphan and the scene of his mother depicts his adoption

Lotor has a dream about Allura instead. Allura's nightmare shows us she's afraid of Zarkon.

"Lotor, my beloved son, you're a nitwit." -Zarkon, 1984

Doom/Drule council.

Coran's son, Garret, and his wife are said to be alive in another dimension they were beamed to when the Galra attacked them. The clone is robotic like.

Allura when comforting Coran after the Garret incident, calls him a good man.

Lance is a country boy.

The Doom foot soldiers are robots.

Romelle was sentenced to be shot by a firing squad with stun guns.

Lotor and Haggar look for a new robeast victim among the Medusans. Audibly noting that they're all in a deep rest. That Medusan lady chooses to adopt Pidge. She also gets hurt, but it's implied she lives.

The episode about the sand people goes relatively the same way. However, the sand person is stated to be exhausted, but alive.

Sven is injured and sent back to planet Pollux to heal.

During the final battle, Lotor sends out robots in bubbles to trap Voltron. Keith can't move him because the bombs would blow up in their face. Lotor shoots them as missiles. Haggar shoots them down so Voltron can end Lotor's career.

Zarkon lives. Haggar lives. Lotor lives.

Pidge has a brother, Chip.

The same:

The Robeasts sometimes have unique tits (long, metallic, and spiky).

Lotor has three different kinds of chins and noses he alternates between.

Allura's only living relative is her aunt.

Armoured Fleet Dairugger XV:

The show begins with a strong theme linked to the lifestyle and aspirations of young sailors staking their life on the sea.

The Galaxy Alliance's goal is to create a star map of the universe, explore planets, and potentially colonize one.

Shinji Ise/Commander Hawkins is unsure if there are any lifeforms other than the three species in the Galaxy Alliance.

There are three planets in the Galaxy Alliance: Earth, Mira, and Sala.

Miranda Keats/Krik has telepathy.

Barros Karateya/Zandee is possibly from New York.

The cook can sing and cook.

Krik and Moya Kirigas/Cinda are Mirans.

Shota Kreutz/Wolo and Saruka Katz/Tangor are Salans.

The main fleet has spent 7 months in space.

Manabu Aki/Jeff hates spicy food.

Tatsuo Izumo/Shannon has no deeper reason to hate the Galveston/Drule other than they've been fighting one another recently.

Sim/Sandu dies as a pilot with his ship.

Wolo's brother dies.

Haruka Kaga/Lisa's singing when the force is stalled on the weather planet.

Murder

Captain Barataria/Brak kills himself.

Walter Jack/Cliff's brother's name is Jimmy.

Cliff has a magic hobby. He wants to be a member of the Magic Castle in Hollywood.

The Dairugger crew/Vehicle force sing the theme song when sending off Captain Dick Asimov/Stanley.

The planet Hawkins saw blow up was a consequence of the Galra not wanting a base to be built on that planet - Planet Apollo.

Krik on his shift as commander simply orders the teams to head to their vehicles.

The Vehicle Force are observing the artifact they collected in a previous episode with hopes and doubts the civilization survived.

Commander Hagi/Kernel Klaus dies.

Director Wakasa/Marshal Graham is peeved the people aren't taking Drule threat seriously.

Drake/Mongo dies. Teles/Hazar has a devastating reaction to it.

Graves

Krik is implied to be a prince.

Sirk/Dorma has no biological relation to Hazar and instead is his adjutant.

Hazar's father is a Homeworld secretary socrat and he's immediately dismissed from this position when Hazar returns to Galveston.

Planet Mira has flowers similar to purple orange-spotted flowers.

The Vehicle team learned space combat at the space fortress.

The queen of Eldora states the Galran frontline base is east of the planet Eldora, in the area where the blue light shines.

Earth gets attacked, and are fending off the Galra.

Yasuo Mutsu/Chip trained really hard at the space fortress' juvenile school in terms of science.

The pendant Lisa gives Jeff is what her mother gave her before Dairugger's departure from Earth. Lisa considers this a souvenir.

Commander Date/Kernel Kerbert* and crew die due to how damaged the ship is.

Patty Ellington/Ginger planted a seed she found in her room. She compares the growth of the plant to their perseverance.

A sunset reminds Cliff of his hometown.

Hazar gets promoted to commander of the attack fleet.

Pidge dreams of driving his mother to Mt. Fuji. We see her physically in the back seat.

Krik's letter is from his father who states harvest is good on Mira. Cliff's letter's from his father who sends his greetings to Ginger.

The photo of the baby is Jeff's newborn nephew. He has at least one sibling.

Chip is a lonely single child.

Lisa and Chip are childhood friends. They were in the same class in juvenile school, and they trained together at the space fortress.

Kazuto Nagato/Hutch and Tasuku Izu/Marvin insult the three girls. They're mad because Kai Shinobu/Rocky previously talked about Emma/Twyla continuously, whilst Hutch says he grows tired of the three. Ginger trips Hutch and he cries.

Commander Twyla dies.

The crew of the Space Explorer play rugby with a squad of Galra soldiers. They all die.

Both the buck and the fawn die.

The two dolphins die. One was a calf. The mother swims head on to a bomb.

Ginger is grievously injured, and is piloting her machine while fighting off sleep medication. She is dedicated to fighting by her team.

Hazar hesitates to land a killing blow and his gun is shot from his hand. Dorma shoots the body guard and in pain he shoots about wildly, accidentally striking Emperor Corsair/Zeppo - who dies.

The date by the time of the Drule evacuation is Feb 9 in the space year 2203.

Commander Newley agrees the Drules should have the third planet of the 26 system as they have nowhere to go.

Commander Hazar is assassinated by three Galveston soldiers. One of whom is Sandu's younger brother.

Jeff gives Lisa's necklace to Hazar's corpse.

Voltron: Defender of The Universe - Vehicle:

The Galaxy Garrison's motive is to find a second planet because Earth is suffering overpopulation.

It's implied the Vehicle Team and crew already encountered Hazar. He is described as a pirate.

The Vehicle Force call themselves the Voltron Force.

The Vehicle Force can only stay combined for five minutes.

Lisa is implied go be an alien.

Wolo's planet has seven moons.

There is a spy aboard the Galaxy Cruiser for the Drules. This is never touched upon again.

The food is crap.

Krik's from a water planet and it was at one point saved by Voltron.

Krik has ESP abilities.

The Drule have a confirmed child soldier among their ranks.

Shannon's brother was taken prisoner and is currently being held on Planet Doom.

Commander Hawkins pours hot chocolate from kettles.

Wolo's brother is implied to have survived the encounter with the beast.

Lisa talks about past African civilization when the Force is stalled on the weather planet.

Commander Brak says he'll move to another planet if the Galra choose to be peaceful.

Cliff is a country boy. Has a confirmed younger brother named Ginny* and two other brothers.

The Voltron Force are singing "For He's a Jolly Good Fellow" for Captain Newley's farewell party.

Commander Hawkins saw a planet, Orus*, get blown up. The reason for its destruction is unknown.

Krik on his round as commander gives orders with great enthusiasm which is noted by his teammates.

The chef paints as a hobby and the Vehicle Force spend an entire scene roasting his painting.

Kernel Klaus lives and wants to continue building bases.

Marshal Graham is down in the dumps when people joke about him and other high ranking personnel.

Mongo took an experimental time travel ship 😭 and left the empire for good because he no longer wanted to be a part of war.

Hazar drops the photo of him and Mongo because he's clumsy. He looks at it and wishes the latter luck.

The Drule are searching for a new planet due to a transient sun while the Galaxy Garrison are searching due to overpopulation.

Commander Hawkins and Jeff's relationship is funnier than it needs to be.

Ginger got run over twice by joggers.

Lisa invented a carrot and cabbage cocktail she calls 'C & C'.

Pidge and Chip are twins.

Jeff's favourite food is spaghetti.

Jeff has been intentionally skipping Professor Page's plant seminars.

We see Krik's family photo.

Hazar and Dorma are brother sister and he has a good relationship with her.

Commander Nerok escapes in an escape shuttle.

The crew drinks hot chocolate in their downtime.

Earth gets attacked and wins against the Drule.

Ginger brought an unknown plant seed aboard ship and is growing a small plant.

Jeff explains a learned philosophical viewpoint to Commander Hawkins, and the latter's answer is that Jeff would make a great politician.

Lisa bought a good luck charm from a wizard on Planet Korb*. Jeff doesn't believe in that, but he wears the necklace the following episode.

"There is a good chance the lieutenant could be damaged." & "You're a brave fool." -Krik, 1985

Pidge and Chip studied solar energy as a hobby.

Kernel Kerbert* and his crew survive by fleeing in escape ships.

Jeff has a dog named Rover. He named a planet after said dog, an idea Commander Hawkins shoots down.

Krik's father bought another hydro bionic farm that he will inherit one day.

It's implied Cliff writes about Ginger to his brother as they want to meet 'that smashing Ginger'.

Jeff's family sent his baby photo. He thinks he's still cute.

Lisa and Chip are close enough she recognizes his hand writing.

Chip dreams about Pidge. He worries greatly about his brother after the lack of a letter.

Hutch insults the three girls based on their looks implying Twyla is hotter. Ginger trips Hutch after he, Marvin, and Rocky insult all three female members of the Voltron Force and he cries.

Commander Twyla escapes in an escape shuttle.

The Voltron Force play football with the Drule. Jeff finds Lieutenant Antor seriously hurt under rubble, but they heal him and he lives.

The buck dies but the fawn lives.

The dolphin is a single dolphin who somehow managed to disable a missile and survive.

"We just signed an important peace treaty right at this table. I've agreed to let Ginger slurp up her spaghetti, and she's agreed to let me slurp up my soup." -Cliff to Jeff, (Ginger present).

"Well I didn't sign and I want my own table away from you." -Krik to Cliff and possibly Jeff, (Ginger present).

Episode 45. Episode 45 is way too funny. Krik and Cinda crave coconuts out of the blue, ask Commander Hawkins if they can stop at a planet for some, and Krik salutes to his commander that it was a 'dumb idea'.

Ginger has PTSD from an experience as a child where she survived a ship blowing up.

The Drule home-world had destructive material buried under the surface.

Hazar spares Zeppo, but the latter's body is slumped on the throne.

Captain Newley relocates the Drule to a planet in the fourth quadrant in the far galaxy.

Hazar lives.

Krik is passive-aggressive.

The Drule blow up perfectly good planets they can't have.

The Same:

Krik has ESP abilities.

Krik can possibly play an instrument. He holds it the entire time, however.

Jeff, when he takes the first shift as Commander, is disgusted and reluctant to sit beside Commander Hawkins much to the amusement of the man.

Commander Hawkins is passive aggressive.

The Drule homeworld is getting hotter. All the residents have moved below ground, and starvation is prominent.

Krik pilots Voltron when Jeff is out of commission.

Krik shoves a whole gun into Jeff's pants.

The Sky Team ft. Krik drive a tank/enemy patrol car.

Dorma is kidnapped and asked to join the resistance which she steadily accepts.

Original Japanese:

All the foot soldiers are organic.

Consequences. Consequences everywhere.

A good portion of one note characters die.

Adapted Shows:

Stun guns. Stun guns everywhere.

All the foot soldiers are robots.

Bonus Voltron season 3:

King Alfor's ghost can bend the fabric of space. He can also shoot lasers without a gun.

Nanny lives.

Pidge has formed murderous intent towards the castle mice.

Fifth castle mouse.

Commander Cossack a.k.a. Cossack the Terrible.

Lotor drinks something called a mean potion that increases his meanness.

Queen Merla.

King Deus Ex Machina Alfor.

Lotor gets put in jail and has his allowance revoked.

"You don't know Zarkon like I do." -Lance, 1985.

Bonus Bonus Fleet of Doom:

Chip is taller than Pidge.

Hunk is buddies with Modac.

Wolo and Lance used to lightly "bully" Cliff.

Keith and Jeff are competitive with each other.

6 year-old Keith got lost in a forest.

Haggar has two wolves within her (not literal wolves).

*Not sure what the confirmed spelling is but I did my best to spell it like it sounds.

#Voltron #Voltron 1984 #V:DOFTU #Voltron: DOFTU #Voltron: Defender of the Universe #Lion Force Voltron #Vehicle Team Voltron #Vehicle Force Voltron #GoLion #Beast King GoLion #Hyaku Jūō Goraion #百獣王ゴライオン #Armoured Fleet Dairugger XV #Armored Fleet Dairugger XV #Kikō Kantai Dairagā Fifutīn #機甲艦隊ダイラガー XV #My Post

28 notes · View notes

ceiling-karasu · 3 months ago

Text

Watched Black Cat Detective and started thinking about Squirrel and Hedgehog as well.

It's been a few days so I have lots of thoughts and rambling. I'll start off by saying that since the main villain of Black Cat Detective is named the 'one eared mouse,' and we already have one of those in this fandom, I'll be calling him Lǎobǎn (no idea if there is already a fan nickname for this guy).

Putting these two together in a room would be fun, but I think Oegwipali is way smarter, to be honest, especially since he is a trained soldier. I'm not sure they would get along.

I would not do a Squirrel and Hedgehog and Black Cat Detective crossover in The Rod That Blocks the Lightning, though, since on is a North Korean cartoon and the other is strictly Chinese. I would be interested in doing a cross over in another, less serious, AU, though, since it is pretty similar with the violence and some other themes.

I watched the original series, then the reboot, and then the movie. Animation wise it does have that 'these kinds of thing happen in the first few episodes' issues, but it is only five episodes so they don't get ironed out. Still entertaining! It was pretty interesting, although I think the movie takes place in a different continuity. The series takes place in a forest with its own 'Forest Law,' and the movie is set in a massive futuristic city with space faring technology.

(I think the giant hairdrier is a leg section of what is a science museum of futuristic space vehicles).

It is about as violent as people say it is, especially for the time period and the fact that it was made for children. I thought it really could not be that bad, that the FH spike impalement scene was wild, but no, an eagle really does beat a bunch of children and eat one alive on screen. Said child is never seen again. The police even know what is going to happen.

Also, are the 'rats that eat cats' supposed to be vampires? Those are some wet slurping sounds, and then the talk of drinking blood later...

I really wish that had been expanded upon. It would make for a fun murder mystery AU.

Definitely a police propaganda cartoon, but maybe (maybe?) not as much racism as we previously thought. The cats in the first episode do not jump to the assumption that the mice stole all the food immediately, and actual detective work is shown throughout the series. I think I saw a mouse living in a village normally in a later episode, and the cats don't even blink an eye at her presence. But when they do figure out who committed the crimes, they do not hesitate to brutally beat the mice half to death and shoot limbs off, if not shoot them dead, with absolutely no mercy. They are overly enthusiastic in sprinting forwards with their batons to beat criminals unconscious in general. At one point there's a stun baton, and they deliberately use it in sensitive areas for extra effect.

Then again, later, a criminal elephant trying to murder a group of cops later is simply tranquilized, so make of that what you will. Although, honestly, the elephant is referred to as a citizen of the forest, and the mice are not. Which would actually rival Flower Hill's xenophobia on the matter, and they don't even have a war going on. Maybe. They have tanks in the forest in the reboot outro?

We noticed a weird issue with the clinking of shackles and chains on arrested prisoners being one of the loudest and crispest sounds in the audio.

There's also the fact that Black Cat will reveal to the public that a prisoner committed a terrible crime, but declare them innocent based on the fact that the crime was 'only in their nature' and they couldn't help it. Which is a very strange thing to say, feels weird, and also suggests that the mice trying to steal and kill everyone were making a choice which is why (according to whatever lesson is being taught here) they 'need' to be punished so brutally and killed without mercy (the elephant and company needed a mineral in the laterite bricks they were stealing, so they were 'only ' sentenced to heavy labor so to speak).

They start talking about using interpol to track down Lǎobǎn at one point.

Which means I think it would be pretty interesting if Lǎobǎn managed to escape to Flower Hill or something like that, and the cats were the Special Forces of the Rabbit Village police. Or the surviving mice could end up with the Weasel Unit and used a propaganda tools of 'this is why we hate Flower Hill, look what they did to your fellows' type thing.

Now as for the movie:

I'll be honest, there was no English release of the movie, so I watched it raw in Chinese while discussing it with rei-does-stuff and sah-headcanons. Maybe we can make a post of our live-blogging with each other later.

There's a Tumblr user named ernestelm who made a review on it, but it is one of those things where none of us would have bothered getting into Squirrel and Hedgehog if we listened without taking a look ourselves.

I'll have to rewatch the movie frame by frame with a deepl translator, but what I get is that a gorilla gets betrayed and floats off into space, and comes back with telekinesis and fireball magic he learned out there and wants revenge.

Either way, he needs some sort of special green star gravity device so he can kidnap people in a museum, and enlists the help of Lǎobǎn for some reason (in case he gets captured or because he might be a local?). Except a pig kid sees this all happening, and Black Cat realizes that this kid has seen too much, and takes him into police custody for his own safety. Amazingly, he tells the parents he has to take the kid with him, from what I can tell.

It makes sense that the police would have Black Cat take care of the kid, since he has apparently always had a way with children.

Side note: What is this character? We think it's a fennec fox? The ears don't look right enough to be a cat. I'm not even sure it's a living person, it might be a computer program. Black Cat sure does give commands into an electronic watch a lot.

ernestelm is completely right about the duck/goose, though. I watched one of the most entertaining animations I've ever seen with meteors damaging a prison complex for six minutes, and then got hit with THAT voice. Maybe he is actually useful, I don't know yet, I'll need the translator. Not one of the police officers hesitates to follow his orders and start a musical number, which turns out of be a legitimate distraction, which means the singing was police protocol intended to confuse a target. Everyone keeps forgetting he can fly at crucial moments?

And why do unimportant characters have a different animation style near the end?

(What is this? Why is it like this it looks like The Amazing World of Gumball?? Also reminds me of Pleasant Goat but these are not goats)

Black Cat Detective is just a slight bit expressionless as well. It would have been nice to see him actually in trouble or in distress like the original, instead of the calm to cocky attitude the whole time. Oh no, he's falling from very high up. Luckily the kid who hero worships the police enough to have studied their flying bikes, and whose father is a pilot, has been hanging around on said bike for just such an occasion. No peril at all.

The real question in the movie is this;

They just casually happen to have a containment unit for the gorilla? Are superpowers and magic just a thing in the Black Cat Detective movie universe, and common enough that they have protocols for this? So many questions.

The city, plus the casual power containment unit, reminds me of Loonatics Unleashed, honestly. Someone could easily make a crossover out of this.

Funny enough, the three of us found that this cat police officer looks a lot like Geumsaegi or Commander Darami.

There's always the idea that Black Cat Detective takes place in the same universe as Squirrel and Hedgehog. The amount of firepower these police officers have is far too much if they are not expecting a war to happen, even if they are referenced as a more elite unit. The implication is very interesting.

Now, if I get to writing the Clever Raccoon Dog PSA fun series, which I headcanon as taking place in Flower Hill because it might be canon (they are both SEK anyway), I would most definitely have the main characters visit and do a ride along with Black Cat Detective (preferably in the cartoon series universe. They are fine with criminals being beaten up, heck they do it themselves!) for a chapter or two. It sounds like it would be fun!

The other one would take place in the movie universe. Maybe a kind of Jimmy Olsen situation with a mouse reporter who keeps getting into trouble, and Black Cat or other people in the police force have to keep saving him. Although, we still have that pig kid who wants to be a police officer, if I understand correctly. It actually sounds better if I just used the pig child continuously getting into situations and needing to be rescued by the police, all the while trying to balance school into the equation. Maybe he becomes a young deputy.

#love me some old timey violent cartoons with animals and a plot #this one is an absolute ramble isn't it?#black cat detective #mr black green star #squirrel and hedgehog #but I can also see them with the clever raccoon dog kids as well #and I don't know if I want to mix them with the pig or the movie it doesn't feel natural to me #sah #SaH #I think the prison transport cats are dead #point blank near an explosion that flips a train and rips open the ground above?#yeah...#is there is a loonatics unleashed crossover the main villain would be black velvet #the darker colored mice have relatives in Africa which is a horrifying implication on what they are trying to say #mr. black green star

14 notes · View notes

moonrosevalley · 1 month ago

Text

Chronicle of Roses Devlog 1: Design Notes Ronya

Li's Portrait of Ronya

Hiya ! This is the first devlog of Chronicle of Roses ! I’m Scarlett, the narrative and game’s designer and today I will showcase the game’s protagonist, Ronya. Showing the influences that helped me mould her character and the concepts for her design as well. This is still early in development and subject to change, those changes will be clear as the project continues.

This game is set in the holy city of Lorne, based in a highly theocratic society headed by a holy prophet worshipped as a protector & harbinger of safety. The citizens heavily disdain witchcraft and magic, anything that goes against their holy scripture. In a cruel twist of fate, Ronya was born with the markings and blood of a witch. Ronya was orphaned as a young child and was taken in personally by the holy prophet Ursula. Ronya was raised to be a soldier, climbing the ranks to the top despite her persecution. Eventually, she became a ‘Raven’, a member of the prophet’s most trusted inner circle of soldiers. Carrying out espionage, scouting, and assassinations under Ursula’s direct orders.

Throughout the game, we follow Ronya as she searches for her lost wife in the newly corrupted Lorne, having to fight old neighbours and comrades whose minds have been lost. Battling against the strings of fate, old prophecies, and horrors beyond human comprehension.

Li's Early Concept Art

Ronya’s inspiration is from a plethora of stories and mythology. Still, a few of the main ones are Ronja the robber's daughter, a Swedish kids' tale about two kids from rival robbers gangs becoming friends, leading to the two gangs making peace eventually. My early idea for Ronya was more feral and outgoing, much like the Ronja of Astrid Lindgren, but we developed her to be more restrained and no-nonsense.

Norse mythology was a heavy surplus of inspiration for Chronicle of Roses, especially for Ronya. We were inspired by Huginn and Muninn, Odin's ravens, and the valkyries of Valhalla. This is where the raven, winged and death motifs came from.

Signalis, Silent Hill, Bloodborne and Dead Space, were heavy inspirations for the game’s plot and characters. Elster as well as Kratos from God of War (2018) were the characters that inspired me to make Ronya more no-nonsense and hard-set on saving the person she loves most. The existential and personal horror of those games were heavy inspirations for COR; Ronya is looking for her wife, time and space are warped and fragmented, and the story is incredibly personal and character-driven. Where the horror is directly linked with a character's mental health, and tackles heavy themes of motherhood, codependency, and hate.

Scarlett's Moodboard

Ronya’s armour and equipment, as well as the rest of the game, are heavily based on the mid-1600s. A time of religious turmoil and witch hunts. Ronya’s main weapon is similar to a Polish sabre, which saw its popularity rise through Europe during the Thirty Years War, & she has access to bombs and early flintlocks, as stealth is not particularly a worry anymore. Her armour is based on the early 1500s to mid-1600s armour that was used throughout Europe.

My intention with her design was to try and showcase a quiet specialist, struggling with her born identity, the use of the black armour and cloak was to symbolise her relation with death. Her hair used to be black in our early designs, but as we started figuring out the different covens and Ronya’s link to fire and magic, we changed to make her hair long and red, almost like a mane, to showcase that separation between her societal identity and her actual identity. To really hit it home with the split of her personhood, we gave her a burn across her face, splitting her face in two, she has loads of other burn scars but they can’t be seen under the armour.

Scarlett's sketches.

Ronya’s story is one of self-actualisation and self-acceptance, her story is a very personal one to me as it is a heavy allegory of queerness and transness, and I’m literally the gayest queer to ever exist and I’m about to start my hormones this coming week ! Ronya’s themes of codependency and having to find purpose and meaning for herself also add to the list of things I grapple with. I use my art to shed light on those struggles to hopefully make someone who relates to this connect with it, see that they’re not alone, and potentially to find my work helpful in their journey of growth.

For next time ! We will showcase Ronya’s and Li’s favourite character, Lilith, the second most important character in the plot of Chronicle of Roses (Ronya being third~).

(Don't mind this being a few minutes late of schedule <3)

#devlog #gamdev #illustration #indie games #lesbian #lesbianism #lesbian number 1 #witch #concept art #design notes #character profile

7 notes · View notes

niqhtlord01 · 2 years ago

Text

Humans are weird: News Broadcasts

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

“The overseer is just finishing a meeting and will be with you shortly.” The human secretary spoke politely. “Can I bring you anything to drink while you wait?”

“If you have some of your carbonated water I would like that very much, thank you.”

As the secretary left to get his drink Roxus eyed the seats of the waiting room before deciding he would instead stand. It was not that he was worried that his bulky body could not fit within them nor that they would shatter under his weight, but he had remembered his prior attempts to sit in human furniture and the quills dotting his back becoming tangled within them leading to some rather embarrassing moments. One of which was when he had sat down on a chair in the home of a potential human mate and his quills became trapped within the strange metal coils within the furniture resulting in the destruction of said pieces and the loss of what had been a promising night.

The ambassador had come today to petition the human overseer to release several Navari who had been arrested the previous night and contacted his people’s conciliate for assistance. From what he had gathered from sources they had become intoxicated at one of the human drinking establishments nearby and had then proceeded to wander into a local wild animal reserve, a “Zoo” as the humans called it, and mistook it for a buffet.

Local law enforcement had arrived at the scene just as the group had pinned down a long necked orange creature and were set to devour it. All of them were restrained before it could happen, but law enforcement discovered that they had broken into the reptilian exhibits and eaten every creature present.

To say he was less than pleased to be woken late in the night would be an understatement, and yet here he was waiting to perform his appointed duty and retrieve his wayward fellow citizens.

So lost in thought was Roxus that he was startled when a loud noise came from behind him.

“Breaking news,” came from one of the wall panels behind Roxus, “we have finally been able to reestablish contact with our reporter on the ground Frank Benedict.”

Roxus turned to see one of the wall sections had powered on and was in fact some sort of display unit. The image on screen was that of a sharply dressed human sitting behind a desk holding several papers. Their eyes were focused directly at Roxus and for a moment he thought that this was some sort of communication call before the next few sentences dissuaded him of that notion.

“Frank has been covering the ongoing war with the Tuvilite Conglomerate along the western edge of human controlled space.” The human at the desk spoke as a new image appeared beside them. It was of a human in a dark lit room wearing a form of body armor with the symbols “PRESS” written in brightly white print on the front and several layers of bandages wrapped around their head. “We were starting to get worried about you when we didn’t hear from you Frank; what’s the situation over there?”

The second human, this Frank, nodded as if hearing something before speaking.

“Thanks Mark.” Frank began calmly, “The Tuvilite fleet in orbit has been scrambling the majority of communication signals heading offworld leaving the planet in an almost black hole of information; I’m only able to speak to you now as earlier this morning Terran ground forces launched a surgical strike on a nearby Tuvilite orbital battery emplacement and shot down several ships in the jamming network.”

“Do you know if communications are stable now?” Mark asked, but Frank shook his head. Roxus noticed that when this Frank did so a layer of the bandages shifted revealing a patchwork of dried blood underneath.

“I doubt it Mark.” Frank said regretfully. “The military officials I have spoken to have admitted that the Tuvilite navy is no doubt bringing in fresh ships to fill the gaps in the network and once again block all transmissions to and from the planet.”

Mark nodded and set down their papers. “In case we lose you during this transmission we hope you stay safe out there, but what can you tell us about the situation on the planet?”

“The situation here is dire, Mark.”

Roxus gasped in surprise and took a step back. This transmission, whoever it was for, was no doubt one of top security clearance. If he was caught listening to this he could be charged with espionage and lose his diplomatic protection.

Panicking, Roxus made to quickly leave the room when the doors to the waiting room opened and the secretary walked in holding his beverage.

“With the planet blockaded by the Tuvilite fleet forces on the surface are beginning to run desperately low on critical supplies, such as food, water, ammunition, and medical supplies.” The transmission droned on much to the horror of Roxus. “If the blockade around the planet cannot be broken soon the future military outlook here is looking grim.” That final line damn near made Roxus’s hearts stop in fear as he saw the secretary approach him and hand his requested drink over.

“I apologize for the wait,” she said calmly with a smile as she took her seat behind the desk again. “the dispenser on this floor is being repaired so I needed to go to the floor below.”

Roxus stood transfixed, unsure what to do.

Was this a ruse? He thought to himself as he pulled the cup to his beak to sip. Could they be testing me?

As he pondered these possibilities the display screen panned away from the Frank human and began playing several video feeds. One showed wounded human soldiers being carried through a system of tunnels while the sounds of explosions shook the ground. Another video then played of Tuvilite ships landing in a grassy field some distance away on the planet’s surface and disgorging several squads of their infantry units before rising back into the skies. The final video showed broken weapons casually tossed to the ground while injured human soldiers line the walls of some underground complex in dimly lit lighting.

The images being shown were something Roxus would never have seen outside a classified feed shared only with the highest levels of his government. The fact that he was seeing them, and that the human secretary seemed uninterested that he was, made this moment all the more confusing and stressful for the alien diplomat.

“Would you like me to change the channel?”

Roxus broke his gaze from the display to see the human secretary looking at him with concern.

“I had not expected the news coverage to include war footage so I had it set to auto play whenever the commercials were not on.

This statement perplexed Roxus. While he was not entirely familiar with every aspect of human culture, he had learned enough to know that commercials were essentially advertisements for products; yet the idea of them being put in a briefing such as this was unheard of.

“Forgive me,” Roxus finally asked, “but what is this that is showing?”

Leaning past him to get a better view, the secretary took a moment before answering. “It’s Global CO5 News channel,” she replied, “and I think they’re doing a war update piece.”

“News channel?”

The words were unfamiliar to Roxus, but thankfully the secretary was quick with an answer.

“They are a form of communication broadcasts that inform the people of what is going on in the universe or on their world depending on the scope of the broadcast.”

She motioned to the Mark human. “CO5 tends to focus on universal events and there’s nothing else going on aside from the Tuvilite war so that’s their main story.”

Roxus looked back at the display and the humans Mark and Frank continued talking with each other; their discussion not nearly as interesting after he had learned the full objective of the broadcast itself.

“So your leaders allow this broadcast to announce whatever information they want, even if it is negative to the governing body?” he found himself asking. To his surprise the human secretary nodded.

“It goes by a story by story basis.” She remarked. “Sometimes the hard truth comes out and people see it raw, while other times there are those that work behind the scenes to either bury or alter reported events to suit their needs.”

Raw information such as this being displayed was all but unheard of for his government. They would censor anything that made the state look weak or ineffective and as a result the general population felt certain levels of nationalistic pride and unity.

With the humans having such little control over the information shared via this platform it was amazing they were able to continue to function as a species let alone as a galactic power.

As he stood pondering this new development the secretary tapped their ear and nodded at something Roxus could not hear.

“The overseer is ready for you now.” she said sweetly as the doors to the overseers office opened and she motioned him through.

Roxus was dragged back to the original reason he had come today and confidently entered the officer, but at the back of his mind he was already making mental notes to have several displays back at his embassy tune in to these human news channels and see what other secrets the humans were openly broadcasting.

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #story #original writing #writing #niqhtlord01

186 notes · View notes

drfaustus · 1 year ago

Note

Just finished coriolanus and I.....hngngng something about violence as a metaphor for queer love and the way that this play is so focused on masculine identity through violence.....

yeah, yeah. i feel you. on returning to the play for a seminar paper, i was so struck by how in some ways, coriolanus himself is a figure of that ideal of masculinity-as-defined-by-violence taken too far. so far that it completely disfigures him. i was fascinated by how often he is imagined by others as disjointed wounded body parts. menenius and volumnia meticulously recount each of his wounds and where they sit on him—one on the shoulder, the left arm, on the neck, two on the thigh. twenty-seven in total following the taking of corioles. cominius calls him "a thing of blood" (2.2.104), whatever the hell that means. menenius even claims "the wounds become him" (2.1.120). he's engulfed by wounds—unique in the sense that they represent something physical—the literal scarred tissue on the body—but also something lacking. a cut is an empty space. i don't even know what to say about the citizen who claims they should stick their tongue in his wounds and speak for them—a weirdly specific violation. god and when he's told to sit put in the senate to hear the stories of his wounds recounted once again for political points, and has to plead to be let leave to try to heal, to become whole again. and all this because he's so good at being the pinnacle of violent masculinity—but really, it's that he's not allowed to be anything more than that at all. and it's all good until it's a threat to rome!

and the queer intimacy. the homoeroticism present is almost so weirdly blatant that it feels like there isn't much to say about it. i remember reading it last year for class and we all just laughed through my professor reading aufidius recounting his gay ass dreams about coriolanus because like. what the hell. shakespeare's most marlowe moment of all time honestly. and i mean, soldiers on the battlefield enter into a space where they're surrounded only by other men with the unique peril of the threat of violence that brings them together in comradery, and like, yeah, sometimes also gay sex i guess. certainly, violence is a part of it here too. coriolanus's use of the wedding bed metaphor comes with the elation of seeing comunius on the battlefield. but the moment with aufidius in 4.5 feels different to me because it's almost like a moment where the homoeroticism is off the battlefield, i am always struck by how coriolanus is essentially like "you can slit my throat and i'd completely understand." he expects aufidius to enact violence on him. but aufidius embraces him ("here i clip the anvil of my sword." clip means to embrace. but the anvil and sword kinda problematize my point here i guess, they're image of war, too). maybe the violence can never be escaped actually, wait maybe that's why their intimacy fails too. anyway. literally had that revelation while rereading this to post it.

#like yeah the man has absolutely rancid political takes but the politics have always been the least interesting part to me #coriolanus #shakespeare #also convinced that the complete 180 that aufidius takes between 4.5 and 4.7 #is the result of either extremely exhilarating or weirdly disappointing gay sex that happened that we don't get to see #those two can not be normal with each other #cant imagine their sex would be any different #also sorry this is long and doesn't really have a neat conclusion #the paper is still really a wip if you can't tell

27 notes · View notes

theetherealbloom · 1 year ago

Text

THE SILVER LINING — CH. 3

Chapter Three: I Could Be Your Sacrifice

Paring: Din Djarin x Empath!FemReader

Word Count: 7.4k

A/N: Slight angst and then some good o’l fluff at the end of this chapter! I appreciate all the comments and reblogs, thank you so much for the kind words and for being so incredibly supportive. Half the time I second guess myself if this fic is conveying what I want to convey :pp Love you guys!

Song: She Calls Me Back by Noah Kahan

Previous Chapter → Next Chapter | Series Masterlist

INSIDE THE RAZOR CREST

OUTER RIM TERRITORIES, 9ABY – SPACE

The sleeping arrangements within the confines of the Razor Crest were undoubtedly tight, the ship's interior bearing witness to the imprint of its dual roles as both a transport vessel and a storage space for the Mandalorian's bounties. Dedicated to this purpose, the lower deck offered minimal comfort but maximal efficiency. It served as both a bunk for Mando's bounties and a restful space for himself, providing enough seating to accommodate a handful of individuals.

However, the sleeping quarters held a singular bed, a testament to his pragmatic nature, a stark contrast to the sentimentality he concealed beneath the metal of his helmet. The offer was extended with an innate honor, the unspoken promise of his desire to ensure your comfort, but you steadfastly resisted, determined not to infringe upon his personal space.

With gentle insistence, a pillow and blanket were procured, a compromise forged amidst the ship's cramped quarters. Your refusal carried a quiet grace, a testament to your ability to understand the intricacies of his character. You cited the importance of his rest, invoking humor in the process, teasing him with a jest about his tireless vigilance in safeguarding you and the child. In response, a subtle tilt of the helmet conveyed more than words ever could.

Nights aboard the Razor Crest had seasoned you, acclimating you to the ship's unyielding metal floors. The chill and vibrations of its machinery became a lullaby, serenading you into slumber as the ship charted its course through the cosmos. Though far from lavish, this makeshift arrangement became a ritual of sorts, a testament to your resilience and adaptability in the face of the galaxy's unforgiving expanse.

However, there were nights when slumber proved elusive, despite the weariness that accumulated through hours spent attending to the child's needs. Those were the moments when you lay sprawled across the ship's floor, a facade of sleepiness concealing your restless thoughts. With practiced nonchalance, you enacted the role of someone lost in slumber, the steady rhythm of your breathing a well-rehearsed act.

In the subdued darkness, a hushed interaction would unfold. As Mando descended the ladder from the flight deck, his presence manifested as a palpable shift in the air. Though the contours of his expression remained obscured behind the enigmatic visor, you sensed the weight of his gaze upon you, an unspoken concern rendered through the ocular grille.

The sprawling expanse of deep space, another night of restless contemplation unfolds. Your thoughts drift like specters, whispering uncertainties and conjuring images that refuse to allow your mind the solace of sleep. As the void outside holds its secrets, your consciousness becomes a ship adrift in its own sea of contemplation.

However, tranquility morphs into chaos as blaring alarms shatter the silence, piercing through the cocoon of your thoughts. The ship shudders violently, a forceful reminder of the volatility of the universe beyond. With a jolt, you are propelled across the interior, the sudden impact rendering the boundaries between you and the Razor Crest momentarily blurred.

With determination to overcome the disorienting disarray, you manage to regain your footing. The insistent vibrations beneath your palms resonate with the urgency of the situation. Grasping onto the ladder, you ascend to the flight deck, your heart racing in synchrony with the blaring alerts that reverberate through the ship.

There, in the pilot's seat, sits the Mandalorian, his presence a reassuring bastion amid the chaos. The Child is secured nearby, nestled within its protective confines. Your voice rings out, laced with concern and a hint of anxiety, "What is happening?"

Mando's response is direct, his command imbued with a stern urgency, "Strap in." Without hesitation, you comply, securing yourself in the seat behind him, the restraints binding you a testament to the gravity of the impending situation. As the ship hurtles forward, the fabric of the universe twists and turns, painting streaks of luminous stars against the canvas of your perception.

"Hand over the child, Mando," the voice crackles over the comlink, the words delivered with a chilling clarity that slices through the tense atmosphere. "I might let you live."

The air vibrates with an electric tension, a symphony of anger and defiance. Blaster fire illuminates the vacuum of space as it dances between the battling ships, a chaotic ballet with life-and-death stakes. Amidst the cacophony, the Razor Crest sustains a blow, the left engine shuddering under the impact. The Child's frightened whimper punctuates the blaring alarms that echo through the ship's corridors. Your grip on the seat's edge tightens, a gesture of both apprehension and determination, mirroring the Mandalorian's resolve.

"Hold on," Mando's voice is a steady anchor, a reassuring reminder that in this perilous dance, he is the one who guides the rhythm. With a deft maneuver, the Razor Crest executes a barrel roll, an attempt to shed the relentless pursuer who clings to their tail. The ship's momentum weaves through the void, an intricate waltz defying the laws of physics. "Come on," his muttered encouragement is laced with both urgency and a fierce determination that speaks volumes.

The dogfight rages on, each maneuver a calculated gamble for survival. Over the comlink, the other bounty hunter's voice sneers, "I can bring you in warm or I can bring you in cold." The chilling proposition hangs in the air like a chilling fog, a testament to the ruthless persistence of their adversary.

A palpable shift occurs, an imperceptible transformation in the Mandalorian's demeanor. His focus crystallizes his movements a seamless fusion of instinct and skill. In a heartbeat, he tugs a lever, bringing the Crest to an abrupt halt. The ship hangs suspended in space, defiance etched into its very frame. The bounty hunter's vessel hurtles forward, intent on a collision course, a move laced with reckless arrogance. But Mando has other plans.

A fierce glint sparks in his eyes as he maneuvers the Razor Crest, narrowly avoiding the oncoming starfighter's attempted ramming. The moment crystallizes, frozen in time as the enemy vessel glides into the forward crosshairs of the Crest's weaponry. A single, precision-engineered laser cannon shot finds its mark, a brilliant streak of lethal energy. In an instant, the enemy vessel ignites into a radiant blaze, consumed by its own demise.

"That's my line," Mando's retort is a symphony of satisfaction and resolve, the final note in a confrontation that unfolded with calculated precision. The pulsing aftermath is one of victory, a dance of survival and defiance choreographed within the unforgiving expanse of the cosmos.

The Razor Crest floats in space with a damaged engine. You unbuckle yourself and check on the child, he coos at you and you give him a small kiss on the forehead before peering over the Mandalorian’s shoulder.

The alarm continues to beep, and the Mandalorian flicks a few switches, assessing the damages he says, “Losing fuel.”

With another deft flick of a switch, the ship's engine purrs into silence, the hushed hum of energy fading into the quiet chamber. The child, nestled in his cradle, fills the air with his innocent coos and delighted giggles. Meanwhile, the Mandalorian rises, a lithe silhouette moving with purpose behind you. The emergency power is coaxed to life under his skilled hands, and then he returns to the captain's chair, his presence a sturdy anchor amidst the sea of flashing red lights that bathe the ship's interior in an eerie scarlet glow.

A distant planet materializes in the viewport, its familiar contours, and features an unsettling reminder of where you're headed – Tatooine. The planet's name carries an undercurrent of history, a mixture of legends and realities woven into its very fabric.

As the Razor Crest eases into the planet's atmosphere, a voice crackles through the comm, a signal from Mos Eisley Tower punctuating the anticipation. "This is Mos Eisley Tower. We are tracking you. Head for bay three-five, over."

Mando's response is succinct, his voice steady despite the impending tension. "Copy that. Locked in for three-five."

Guided by the Mandalorian's skilled hand, the ship gracefully descends toward the arid desolation of Mos Eisley, its landing gear meeting the sun-scorched surface with precision. Bay three-five becomes the vessel's designated haven, a moment of respite amidst the vast expanse of Tatooine's desert landscape.

As the Razor Crest settles, you find yourself contemplating the planet's grim reputation. Tatooine, a world subjected to the harsh glare of twin suns, finds itself devoid of the lush resources needed to sustain thriving populations. This barrenness birthed an environment where smugglers and outlaws thrived, a fact evidenced by the tales of the notorious Mos Eisley Cantina and the shadowy dealings that echoed through its walls. Despite its criminal underbelly, Tatooine was not solely defined by its infamous reputation; hardworking settlers carved out their lives amid the sands, a testament to the resilience of those determined to survive.

Mando's gaze turns towards you, the silent exchange of understanding passing between you. His words are a quiet request, laced with concern. "Can you put the child in the safe room downstairs, please?" With a reassuring smile, you affirm his wish and cradle the child, his tiny form bundled in warmth, before making your way to the room below.

As you settle the child, making sure he's comfortable and secure, the docking port announces the arrival of the Razor Crest's journey's end. Your attention turns back to the Mandalorian, who's preparing to disembark down the ramp. You close the door of the safe room with a gentle click, ensuring the child's safety before following the Mandalorian outside.

The scene unfolds before you, a trio of DUM-series pit droids bustling out in a flurry of mechanical efficiency, their programmed task to service the Razor Crest. Yet, the Mandalorian's actions cut through the air like a bolt of lightning, a warning shot aimed at the droids. Instantly, they retreat, their servos whirring in a cacophony of aborted movement.

The sharp retort of blaster fire does not sit well with a woman whose fiery curls frame her determined features. Her voice carries across the space, charged with anger. "Hey! Hey! You damage one of my droids, you'll pay for it." Her words hang in the air, punctuated by her frustrated gestures, a clear indication of her displeasure at the unexpected disruption.

Mando's retort is terse, a clear directive. "Just keep them away from my ship." His words prompt a curious glance from you, a silent question lingering about his aversion to droids.

She, however, is not one to be deterred by his terse response. A retort drips from her lips as she strides forward, embarking on an inspection of the ship. "Yeah? You think that's a good idea, do ya? Let's look at your ship." Her palms meet the ship's exterior in a series of resounding knocks. "Oof! Look at that. Ugh, you got a lot of carbon scorin' building up top."

The Mandalorian holds its characteristic stoicism as she goes on, "Yeah. If I didn't know better, I'd think you were in a shootout. Special tool for that one." She appraises the ship's damages with an air of detachment, expertise born of experience. "I am gonna have to rotate that. You got a fuel leak. Look at that, this is a mess. How did you even land? That's gonna set you back."

To her questioning gaze, Mando reveals the extent of his resources, his offer modest but practical. "I've got 500 Imperial Credits."

"That's all you got? Well, what do you guys think?" Her inquiry is met with a chorus of negative responses from the pit droids, their mechanical chitters a testament to her assessment. "That should at least cover the hangar," she concedes, her decision firm.

Mando's promise, however, doesn't escape her skepticism. "I'll get you your money," he assures her.

Her retort is laced with skepticism, a hint of annoyance. "Hmm. I've heard that before."

Mando's response is deliberate, his focus clearly beyond this conversation. "Just remember…"

Her exasperation is evident in her muttered response, a comment half-spoken under her breath. "Yeah, no droids. I heard ya. You don't have to say it twice. Jeez. Womp rat." Her remark carries an undertone of annoyance, her final word a muttered descriptor. As the Mandalorian turns his attention to you, his grip takes hold of your wrist, pulling you slightly aside.

He leans in, his voice a hushed whisper, his request both practical and heartfelt. "Do you mind keeping an eye on them for the meantime while I go around and look for work?"

Your eyebrows rise in response to his request, your willingness to help apparent. "But I can help–"

His head shakes subtly, his intent clear. "I know what you’re capable of, but I also need you to look out for the kid when he most likely wakes up and causes trouble." The unspoken trust between you is palpable, a testament to the bonds that have been woven between you in the face of shared challenges.

Your lips quirk to the side, a mixture of concern and understanding painting your features. "Alright, but… just… please be careful," you advise, your voice carrying a subtle layer of caution. He acknowledges your words with a brisk nod, his grip on your wrist relinquishing as he turns away. With purposeful steps, he exits the hangar bay, his figure soon melding into the sandy expanse of Mos Eisley's streets.

Your attention shifts to the mechanic, a warm smile gracing your lips as you approach her. "I’m sorry about him… he’s a bit reserved when it comes to new people… comes with the job, I guess."

She meets your words with a knowing grin, her tone tinged with familiarity. "Your partner could use a talkin’ to. The name is Peli, what’s yours?" Her inquisitive gaze holds genuine interest as she extends this unassuming introduction.

You return the sentiment with a gentle nod, offering your name in exchange. Her response carries an inviting air, and her words, and demeanor are both hospitable. "Well, would you like to join me and my droids in a game of sabacc before we start fixin’ up your ship?"

A sigh of relief escapes you, the tension that had been coiled beneath your exterior easing with the offer. "You know what… I’d like that." Your acceptance is genuine, a chance to unwind for a while.

"I'm in and I am gonna raise you three bolts and a motivator," Peli playfully quips, the air light with camaraderie. Your chuckle mingles with her words, the accompanying grumbles of the droids adding a whimsical touch.

However, the levity is shattered by a sudden, piercing shriek that reverberates through the hangar. Instinct propels your head to whip toward the source of the sound, concern flooding your features. Without a second thought, you break into a run, your steps swift and purposeful as you rush toward the Razor Crest.

Peli's voice follows you, a directive laced with urgency. Her command to her droids to retrieve her blaster underscores the seriousness of the situation. Amidst the mounting tension, your focus zeroes in on the scene before you. The Child, upset and distressed, wander within the ship's interior. Your heart clenches in response, and with swift determination, you close the distance.

In a fluid motion, you scoop the little one into your arms, cradling him close to your chest. The shift from alarm to comfort is palpable as you soothe him, your voice gentle and reassuring.

You call out to Peli, your voice carrying the reassurance of a caretaker, "It's fine! The little guy just woke up from his nap."

Peli's response is a mixture of enthusiasm and affection, her voice warm and exclaiming, "Oh, my, my! What a cutie!" You approach her side with the child nestled in your arms, his presence a comforting weight against your chest. Peli's genuine concern for the child is evident as she continues, "Did that grumpy bounty hunter leave you with your mom?”

Your attempt to intervene is met with her uninterrupted stream of conversation, her attention entirely captivated by the small being in your arms. "Uh… Peli…" you start, but she forges ahead, undeterred.

Without missing a beat, she shifts her focus to practical matters, "All right. Now, would you like some food? Are you hungry?" The child coos in response to her soothing voice, prompting Peli to immediately issue commands to her droids, her urgency palpable, "Okay. Fetch us something to eat. Quick!"

Peli's affable demeanor persists as she addresses the child, bestowing upon him a sense of camaraderie, "Yeah, bright eyes? We're a team. Mmm-hmm." Her gaze then lifts to you, a smile gracing her lips as she adds, "Let me go check on those droids to make sure that they find something to eat for the both of you."

You return her smile with gratitude, your appreciation mirrored in your eyes as you respond, "Thank you, Peli. We appreciate it."

AN HOUR LATER…

MOS EISLEY, HANGAR 3-5, TATOOINE – AFTERNOON

With gentle motions, you wiped away the splotches of food from the child's tiny face, the soft fabric of the towel brushing against his delicate skin. As the task is completed, you place the towel aside, your attention solely focused on the little being cradled in your arms. The contentment within you finds its expression in a soft hum, a melody of comfort and care that resonates in the air.

A smile graces your lips, a reflection of the joy that the child's presence brings to your heart. His coos, like musical notes, intertwine with your hum, creating a harmonious symphony of connection. And then, as if a curtain is gently drawn aside, you perceive a subtle shift – a glow, an aura – emanating from the child. It wraps around him like a protective embrace, a light green shade that seems to mirror his innocent spirit.

Meeting your gaze, the child responds to your smile with one of his own, his expression a canvas of pure delight. In his eyes, you sense not just the reflection of your smile, but an entire universe of emotions that only he can convey. It's as if he knows as if he comprehends the significance of your presence, your companionship during Mando's absence.

"Hmm… I suppose you're already aware of my abilities, little one," you mused softly while deftly swaddling the child in a cocoon of fabric. His gaze meets yours, those wide eyes seeming to hold a depth beyond their size. "But you know, it's something I'm still trying to figure out, something I can't quite control... just yet. So perhaps, in a way, we're both on a journey of learning."

As your words gently weave through the air, reaching the child's tiny ears, his response is a melodic coo, a sound that seems to carry the weight of trust and a growing understanding between you. In answer to his expressive delight, your lips mirror the sentiment, curling into a fond smile that speaks volumes of the connection you share.

With each coo and flutter of his eyelids, the child's energy begins to wane, the day's adventures and interactions leaving their mark. Spotting a nearby chair, you settle into it, cradling the child in your arms. The comforting rhythm of your breathing and the warmth of your presence seems to envelop him, and gradually, his eyes start to drift shut, the weight of contentment and fatigue causing them to surrender to sleep.

In the peaceful cocoon of that moment, you both find rest. The child, nestled in your arms, and you, leaning into the chair's embrace, succumb to the soothing embrace of slumber. It's a serene picture, two souls finding solace and comfort in each other's company, a silent testament to the profound connection that has woven its way between you. As the outside world fades into the background, the peaceful symphony of breathing and heartbeats lulls you both into dreams, where adventures continue in the realm of the subconscious, accompanied by the gentle backdrop of trust and understanding that only companionship can bring.

Startled from your peaceful slumber, your eyes snap open at the commanding voice of the Mandalorian, “Where is she? Where are they?”

The child nestled in your arms stirs, his cries soft but insistent. With gentle motions, you attempt to soothe him, your touch and hushed words a source of comfort amid the abrupt awakening.

As you rise from your seat, the atmosphere tinged with a mix of sleepiness and alertness, you find yourself at the center of a scene unfolding before you. Peli's animated protests directed at the Mandalorian seem to reflect the sentiment of having been awoken prematurely, both for you and the child, “Quiet! Do you have any idea how long it took for her and the kid to sleep?”

Emerging into the light, you watch as the Mandalorian approaches with urgency, his footsteps carrying a mix of concern and reassurance. His presence is a testament to the bond you've built that drives him to ensure your safety. Even though the opaque visor of his helmet, his intent is palpable.

His gaze sweeps over you, a silent assessment to ensure your well-being. It's a gesture that speaks volumes, a silent acknowledgment of the importance you hold in his world. As his footsteps halt, his stance emanates both vigilance and relief, his words carrying a note of vulnerability, “I… I panicked… when…”

You nod in understanding, your gaze meeting his through the obscurity of his helmet. Reassurance becomes your unspoken promise, a testament to the depth of your connection. Waves of his worry and anxiety reverberate within you, but you manage to summon a gentle smile, “We’re okay. We’re fine, Peli gave us something to eat, and then the Child and I took a nap together. How about you? You okay? Did you manage to find some work?”

He nods, his words carrying the weight of the situation, “Some rookie, Calcican, wants to track down Fennec Shand, an elite mercenary. Needs some help and he’ll let us keep the credits… he just wants to get in the guild.”

You blink in surprise, your concern surfacing in a furrow of your brows, “Fennec Shand? Are you kriffing kidding me? She’s one of the best sharpshooters in the galaxy. Let me come help you, please.”

Mando's response is a whisper, so soft it seems to hold a universe of emotions, sending a shiver down your spine. You hold your breath involuntarily, his gentle words almost intimate in the quiet, “I need you to stay here and look after the kid, for his sake and my own. Just in case anything happens to me…”

“Don’t. No, you have to come back to us alive. Please…” The plea in your voice carries a raw urgency, your gaze unwavering as it meets his visor, your emotions palpable even through the steel exterior of his helmet.

Something shifts within him, a subtle tremor in his posture that you can sense even without seeing his face. It's as though a current of understanding passes between you two, a connection that transcends words. In your perception, a silvery mist begins to encircle him, a visual manifestation of his protectiveness and an unspoken desire to be closer, to hold you in that moment of uncertainty.

He wills himself to stay in his place, he stretches his gloved fingers before clenching them in a fist, and he gives you a nod, “I asked the rookie to meet me outside with the speeder bikes, we’ll be out in the Dune Sea.”

You blink and offer a nod to the Mandalorian, then shift your attention to Peli, who begins to recount, “Anyway, I started the repair on the fuel leak. I had a ‘couple setbacks I want to talk to you about. You know, I didn't use any droids, as requested, so it took me a lot longer than I expected. But I figured you were good for the money since you have extra mouths to feed.”

Mando walks inside the Razor Crest to grab some supplies and acknowledges her with a simple nod, gratitude conveyed through his demeanor. With your heart still racing from the encounter with the Child and your earlier nap, you exit the hangar bay beside the Mandalorian. Waiting for you both are the speeder bikes, as promised, with Calican in tow. His voice chimes in, trying to project a sense of accomplishment, “Hey, Mando, what do you think? Not too shabby, huh?”

Mando only gives him a look and he shrugs, “What'd you expect? This ain't Corellia.” Calican then addresses you with a nod and a courteous “Ma'am.”

Holding the child closer, you meet Calican’s greeting with a guarded expression, your skepticism about him evident in your eyes. Trust was a commodity not easily granted in your line of life. Your heart sinks to your stomach as you can see the yellow and black swirling aura around Calican’s figure, a murky haze that stirs a sense of caution within you. The two men mount their speeders and ride off into the vast expanse of the Dune Sea, leaving you with a mixture of concern and an unsettling feeling of impending danger.

A FEW HOURS LATER…

MOS EISLEY — NIGHT

He should have seen it coming, the signs as clear as the twin suns that painted the desert sky. A curse slips through his lips, a low rumble of frustration that mingles with the restless desert winds, carrying his vexation into the vast expanse around him. The Mandalorian's gloved hands maintain a firm grip on the dewback's reins as he guides the sturdy creature back toward the heart of Mos Eisley. The journey, once a routine return, stretches now into the embrace of encroaching nightfall, the creeping shadows a harbinger of the impending storm within him.

His thoughts churned like the grains of sand kicked up by the dewback's steps, caught in a relentless spiral that mirrors the ceaseless swirl of thoughts within him. The weight of responsibility presses heavily on his shoulders, a tempest of anxiety that beats in time with the rhythm of his pulse. Each heartbeat is a reminder, a primal urge that courses through his veins, an unwavering call to safeguard both you and the child at all costs. The images of your faces flicker in his mind, his protective instincts amplified by the connection he's forged with both of you amidst the galaxies' dangers.

As the night's cloak deepens and the desert landscape becomes an indistinct silhouette, the Mandalorian's resolve remains unyielding. He's prepared for whatever challenges lie ahead, the fire of determination burning bright.

Earlier, you had left your lightsaber hilt in your bag and taken a moment to rest with the child cradled in your arms, your guard temporarily lowered after aiding Peli in the Razor Crest's repairs. A brief respite that was shattered all too soon.

Abruptly, you're jolted awake as a blaster clicks against your temple. Calican's voice drips with threat as he gives you a chilling ultimatum, "Make a sound and you won't like the outcome. Cooperate, and we all walk away."

Your throat feels dry as you nervously nod, complying with his demands. He forces you to your feet, maneuvering you and Peli toward the Crest's entrance. Reluctantly, you relinquish the child, your heart aching as you're corralled onto the ship with Peli.

Back at hangar three-five, the Mandalorian's gut churns with unease. Something is amiss, the air thick with an eerie silence. His gaze catches the pit droids cowering in the office, a silent indication that danger lurks.

Calican emerges from the Razor Crest, blaster trained on you and Peli, the child cradled uncomfortably in his grasp. His taunting words slice through the tension, a twisted smile curling his lips, "Took you long enough, Mando."

Mando steps out, blaster aimed at Calican, your figure, and Peli's held hostage in the crosshairs. Calican revels in the reversal of power, his bravado evident as he sneers, “Looks like I'm calling the shots now. Huh, partner? Drop your blaster and raise 'em."

Reluctantly, the Mandalorian complies, his blaster clattering to the ground as he places his hands behind his helmet, his gaze never leaving Calican's threatening form.

With a forceful push, Calican shoves you forward, your footsteps reluctantly crunching in the sandy dirt as you stumble slightly. The metal cuffs he carelessly tosses to the ground glint dully in the faint moonlight, a stark contrast to the tense air that clings to the scene. "Cuff him," Calican orders, his voice dripping with an arrogant authority.

You roll your eyes at his command, the irritation barely concealed as you stoop to pick up the discarded cuffs. A reluctant sigh escapes you as you begin to move toward the Mandalorian, your steps hesitant yet resigned. The cold metal feels heavier in your hands as you draw closer, your gaze fixed on his rigid back. With a careful maneuver, you move behind him, the cuffs clutched tightly in your fingers as you follow Calican's instruction to restrain the Mandalorian.

Calican's taunts cut through the air like a blade, his words seeping with disdain and accusation. "You're a Guild traitor, Mando," he sneers, his tone laden with derision. "And I'm willing to bet that this here is the target you helped escape, as well as the pretty little thing you got with you."

The Mandalorian's jaw clenches, his masked face an inscrutable mask that belies the turmoil within him. You sense the simmering waves of anger emanating from him, a fierce wildfire igniting in the depths of his chest. The tension in the air grows, and the silence is almost recognizable, a heavy weight that hangs like a storm cloud. The familiar aura that enveloped him in silvers and greys now seems tainted, the colors shifting to reds and oranges like the crackling flames of a fire unleashed.

Positioned just behind the Mandalorian, you notice a subtle movement in his left hand. It's a flash charge, a device you've seen before in the armory closet of the Crest. Your heart races and a whisper escapes your lips, almost lost in the tension of the moment, "I'll follow your lead."

Calican's voice, dripping with triumph and hubris, slices through the air like a blade. "Fennec was right. Bringing you in won't just make me a member of the Guild, it'll make me legendary." His finger tightens around the blaster's trigger, ready to end the Mandalorian's life in pursuit of his ambitions.

But in a swift and calculated move, the Mandalorian triggers the flash charge. The room is momentarily engulfed in blinding light, and your instincts kick in immediately. You crouch and seek cover behind a cluster of large equipment, your heart pounding in your chest. Peli seizes the opportunity, her escape facilitated by the distraction.

The Mandalorian's lithe form shifts with practiced agility, seeking the shadows at the periphery of the blinding light. The eruption of blaster fire punctuates the tense atmosphere, the room transformed into a battlefield in the blink of an eye. The distinct snap-hiss of the Mandalorian's weapon adds to the raucousness as he engages in the gunfight.

A precise shot rings out, and the blaster bolt finds its mark. Calican's body jerks as the lethal energy courses through him, and you watch with a mix of relief and dread as he crumples to the ground. You and Peli peek out from your hiding place and move toward the body.

Amidst the aftermath of the confrontation, Mando's terse command rings out, a blend of caution and concern woven into his tone. "Stay back," he instructs, his words a shield against the lingering uncertainty of the situation. His gaze flits to the fallen figure before him, a grim assessment to ensure the danger is truly past.

Peli's voice breaks the tense silence, laden with urgency, "Gotta get it. Where is it?" The shared mission binds you together in a common purpose, each driven by a blend of necessity and the survival instinct that thrives in the harsh corners of the galaxy.

Together, the three of you search, casting wary glances over the room's every shadow and corner. And then, relief unfurls its gentle wings as the child peeks out from behind a stack of barrels. His cherubic face breaks into a smile, the trauma of the encounter seemingly forgotten in the safety of your presence. Babbling with innocent delight, he emerges unscathed from the tumultuous events that have unfolded.

"Ah, there you are, sweet child. Come to us," you murmur, your voice a soothing melody as you scoop him into your arms. His laughter weaves through the air, a testament to his resilience in the face of danger.

Peli's commentary adds a touch of levity to the heaviness that hangs in the air. "That was really loud for your big old ears, wasn't it?" she playfully teases, her fingers dancing over the child's tummy, earning infectious giggles in response.

Meanwhile, Mando retrieves the bag of credits from the fallen bounty hunter's pockets, a quiet declaration of triumph. With a few strides, he joins your group, his presence a comforting anchor. As the pouch is opened, credits tumble into Peli's waiting hands, a tangible reassurance that carries the weight of unspoken gratitude.

Peli's smile holds both warmth and genuine relief as she affirms, "Yeah. Yes, this is gonna cover you." The exchange, brief as it is, speaks volumes about the unspoken understanding and camaraderie forged in the crucible of shared danger.

Mando's nod is a silent farewell, an affirmation of the transaction's completion. Turning, he ascends the ramp and disappears into the maw of the Razor Crest. Your glance lingers with gratitude and a faint smile is shared with Peli, a wordless acknowledgment of her aid in this precarious moment.

Soon, you find yourself strapping into your seat within the ship, the child nestled safely in your arms. The Mandalorian's deft hands guide the ship's controls, and the gentle thrum of engines fills the air as the Razor Crest ascends into the sky.

As the Razor Crest slips into the embrace of hyperspace, you rise from your seat, your heart still heavy with the weight of recent events. The hum of the ship's engines forms a steady backdrop to your thoughts, amplifying the nervousness that coils within you. The decision to speak with Mando simmers in your mind, finally finding its way to your lips.

Swallowing your apprehension, you approach him, a soft urgency propelling you forward. He swivels around in the pilot's chair, his visor fixing upon you with an expectant gaze. Silence hangs heavy, stretching between you like a taut wire.

A cascade of feelings tangle within you, knotting your words as they attempt to tumble out. Your fingers toy with one another, a physical manifestation of the tangled thoughts swirling in your mind. The slight tremor in your voice becomes evident as you begin, "I'm sorry."

His tilted head invites you to continue, his silence acting as an unspoken invitation to lay your thoughts bare.

You let out a soft breath, the warmth of the ship cocooning you in this moment of vulnerability. "Earlier, while helping Peli with the repairs, the child was playing nearby. We got caught up in the work, and it's just… I guess exhaustion caught up with me. I didn't mean to let my guard down."

A gentle awkwardness colors your confession, your words imbued with a kind of sincerity that comes only from raw honesty. The palms of your hands grow damp with a nervous energy, a sign of the earnestness that propels you to continue.

"And about the sleeping on the Crest," you stammer, "I mean, I was trying to catch up on sleep… it's not like I haven't been sleeping well, per se…" You falter, feeling your cheeks warm under his covered gaze.

A pause lingers, and you find yourself fumbling for the right words. "I just wanted to say that today, after the repairs, I was more tired than usual, and I'm sorry that it impacted my alertness. I know that I'm supposed to be looking after the child, and I… I failed in that."

The quiet echoes in the space between you, heavy with unspoken emotions. His visor remains trained on you, an enigma waiting to be unraveled.

Your voice softens further, on the edge of vulnerability, "I know you rely on me to help, and I'm grateful for that. I just… I don't want to let you down, or the child." An earnest sincerity paints your words, an unspoken yearning to prove your worth and dedication.

Still, his silence persists, and your heart flutters in your chest, a tempest of uncertainty and vulnerability.

Tears threaten to gather at the corners of your eyes, your emotions swirling in the midst of this poignant moment. With a faint, awkward smile, you conclude, "I just needed you to know that, I suppose."

And as you stand there, exposed and raw, the quiet communication shared between your eyes speaks volumes, bridging the gap between your hesitant words and his silent understanding.

He flicks on the auto-pilot and rises, his figure a silent directive that beckons you to follow. His voice is a simple command, "Follow me. Bring the kid."

You move, cradling the child in your arms with a tenderness that comes so naturally now. Carefully, you descend the ladder after the Mandalorian, your steps measured to ensure the safety of the precious cargo you carry. Once at the bottom, he waits for you, his stance both patient and protective. His arms extend as he takes the sleeping child, his touch gentle yet firm.

In the dimly lit room, the Mandalorian places the child in his safe haven, the hammock swaying slightly as he arranges the little one, making certain of his peaceful slumber. With a hiss, the door seals shut, leaving the child in his safe haven.

His gaze shifts to you, and you realize that the next part of this unspoken sequence is your turn to follow. He resumes his path, and you fall into step behind him, your instincts guiding you through the ship's corridors. Eventually, he turns a corner, a door revealing his sleeping quarters.

The urge to protest tugs at you, the understanding of his gesture and the weight of its implications churning in your mind. "Mando–"

He halts, facing you head-on, his beskar armor a silent testament to his resolve. And then, he corrects you with a softness that feels like a whispered confession, "Din."

Confusion and surprise tangle in your words, "Uh… I'm sorry?"

He tilts his head and meets your gaze with an unyielding steadiness, his tone so matter-of-fact that it takes a moment for his words to truly register, "My name is Din. Din Djarin."

The declaration hangs in the air, a revelation that seems to open a new chapter. Your lips part soundlessly, and then close, the weight of his name resting on your tongue. And then, a smile blooms on your face, the sheer warmth of the moment washing over you. Your joy is palpable, evident in your widened smile that seems to light up the space. Unintentionally, your reaction affects him, his pulse quickening beneath his beskar armor.

With a soft chuckle, you test the syllables of his name, your voice giving it a musical lilt that dances through the air. The way his name feels on your lips sends a pleasant shiver down his spine.

Your slight accent adds a touch of musicality to the way you utter his name, the mere sound causing his heart to pick up its pace. It's an odd sort of connection, the way your voice shapes his name, making it feel like something entirely new, something that belongs in this exact moment.

"Well, Din Djarin, thank you for offering your um… bed… but like I said before I'm fine–"

He cuts through your words with a gentle yet resolute command, "You just said you weren't sleeping well."

A nervous chuckle escapes you, a feigned nonchalance as you attempt to downplay your previous statement, "Did I? Must've slipped my mind. But, it's okay, I'll be–"

"Stop."

The abruptness of his single word leaves you momentarily speechless, your lips parting slightly as you meet his unwavering gaze. He steps closer, his presence encroaching on your personal space, and an involuntary reflex makes you lean back slightly, your heart pulsing in your chest as you wait for his next words.

"We can share the bed."

Your mouth falls open in a mixture of astonishment and disbelief, your voice catching for a moment, "Um… Mand– Din, no offense but your bed will barely fit the two of us."

Din's response is a casual shrug, his demeanor unfazed by the logistics, "So?"

Your eyebrows ascend to your hairline, your eyes widening incredulously, "I– but you wouldn't be able to take off your helmet and actually get some rest."

The tilt of his helmeted head conveys a sort of indifference, his conviction in the matter clear, "I'll be fine."

Your concern is evident in your voice as you continue to protest, "But–"

"Are we just gonna keep going back and forth about this, or are we actually gonna try and get some rest?" His words flow from his lips so easily, leaving you gaping at him for a moment before you manage to blink and respond, "Are you… sure? Like, really sure?"

His helmeted head gives a single, affirmative nod, his unwavering assurance resonating in his voice, "Of course."

Unstoppable force meets an immovable object. The tension in the room is palpable, like a charged energy lingering between you two. You let out a deep breath, your shoulders rising and falling with the weight of the decision, "Okay… I'll just use the refresher to get ready for bed real quick…"

Din's acknowledgment is marked by another nod. You turn on your heel and retrace your steps down the hall to the refresher, your thoughts a whirlwind of anticipation and nerves. The sound of the water hitting the metal basin is a comforting rhythm, its steady cadence grounding you. You allow the warmth of the water to wash away the day's dust and uncertainty, letting the soothing sensation lull your racing heart.

Once you're out of the refresher, clad in more comfortable attire, you find your way back to Din's quarters. He's already made himself comfortable, sitting on the edge of the bed, his helmet still on his head but the rest of the armor was placed to the side on the floor, leaving him in his black long sleeves and shorts. The soft ambient lighting casts gentle shadows, adding an air of intimacy to the moment.

Swallowing your nervousness, you approach the bed, your gaze drawn to the space next to him. The thought of sharing such an intimate space with him feels simultaneously exhilarating and nerve-wracking. As you settle down, you can't help but feel acutely aware of his presence beside you.

As the bed dips under your weight, Din's attention turns to you. There's a subtle tension in the air, the silence pregnant with unspoken words. The moment feels fragile, delicate, like the hushed prelude of a song waiting to be played.

Din breaks the silence, his voice a calming reassurance, "Goodnight."

You offer a shy smile, your heart beating a little faster as you reply, "Goodnight, Din."

With those simple words, a new chapter begins in the space between you and the Mandalorian, a chapter defined by shared vulnerability and a budding connection. As the quiet settles around you both, the ship's gentle hum lulls you into a peaceful slumber, nestled in the warmth of companionship and the promise of a new day.

END NOTES:

YIEEEEEE ONE BED TROPE AND THE NAME REVEAL??? OOOOO??? WHATS GOIN’ ON OVER HERE??? I hope the pacing so far is okay… and yes, yes, we’ll tap into the reader’s empath abilities more soon, dw! Especially in the next chapter <3

TAGLIST:

@wastingspaces @avengersheart @lunatic1012 @keepingupwiththeskywalkers @mxltifxnd0m @syviiss @luckyzipperscissorsbat @avengersheart @dins-riduur-anthe @lizlil @n7cje @scoliobean @ofmusesandsecrets

#din djarin x fem!reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin masterlist #din djarin x you #din djarin fluff #etherealupdates #the silver lining #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fic #the mandalorian rewrite #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal masterlist

80 notes · View notes