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acourtofsnakes · 4 years

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Tor - Rogue, Chapter 3| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (f)

Summary: A little bit of Mando pov for you all!! It’s a shorter chapter, just kind of the same as the previous but from our Space Dad’s point of view this time. Though there may be a little hint of your decision at the end…

Warnings: Injury detail/blood, swearing, angst? Hints of fluff?

AN: There’s a very small ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ reference to a certain Dornish prince and his nickname in here too. Wonder if you’ll find it? 👀

Also, thank you to @ithinkwehitametaphor for sending me the gif! i couldn’t for the life of me find it and you honestly saved my life

Wordcount: About 3465

Rogue Taglist: @snipskixandbeskar @weirdowithnobeardo

Mando’a Translation: Tor – justice

He always thought it would end like this. Never in some big blaze of blaster fire or with his ship, but in some back alley, bleeding out, alone.

Hell, maybe he deserved it. He’d killed enough people to warrant this end, slumped on the floor, too weak to save himself.

He didn’t deserve a warrior’s death, a Mandalorian’s death. Not after all he had done.

Of course, it was his duty, his honour as a Mandalorian and a bounty hunter but… that sacred Creed did nothing to stop the thoughts that plagued him at night, the whispers that hissed in his ear during his waking hours.

He almost laughed at himself.

The Creed was all he had.

Until…. Until the kid had come along.

Until he saw that little wrinkly baby in the crib and… it had all changed.

He couldn’t kill it, him, couldn’t take it back to the Client or his Clones.

One look at that damn little silver ball, and eveyrhting went straight out the window.

Fuck the Guild code. He would never kill a child, an innocent being that couldn’t even talk, could only make those little cooing sounds that even he had to admit were adorable.

Rescuing him… it had given him something to live for. Something to fill his days and a reason not to go hurtling helmet first into danger with no regard for his own safety.

Except… well, no. That wasn’t strictly true was it. He’d become more reckless since that moment, the rules that his bound his life for so long were slowly coming undone bit by bit. All of which made him so reckless, so… desperate?

You only had to look at the sheer amount of people lining up for his and the kid’s head to prove that.

So maybe he didn’t always make the smartest decisions, but they were still alive, weren’t they? Had friends to help them if he needed it.

In a short time, he’d gone from being Judge, Jury and Executioner, to being the person that people called when they needed help. Sometimes people didn’t even call him. He just showed up and offered his services.

And truth be told… he liked it. He liked people looking at him with hope and admiration, rather than fear and jealousy. He liked the way people fussed over the kid, asking if Mando was taking good care of the child. Like they were a family.

A Clan.

The sigil on his armour said as much. Him and the kid. A unit of two rogues.

That’s what it all came down to, in the end. Everything was to keep Grogu safe. That’s why he stuck to the Outer Rim, taking jobs that would draw him further away from those that relentlessly hunting them, those who wanted to harm the Child. Besides, he needed the credits that came with the big jobs. Taking care of the little womp rat was expensive. Not to mention there was always something falling apart on his ship.

So, when that guy in the hood had cornered him in the bar, given him the fob and told him about the bounty that no one could catch, he’d taken it without a thought. He’d had so many over the years that were supposedly uncatchable that the word had nearly lost its meaning. And this stranger had obviously sensed that, explained that it was true. Reeled off the sheer amount of hunters that had been sent that way, Imps, Trandoshans, Empire workers, IG-11 robots, even another Mandalorian. After hearing that list, Mando had expected some high-level bounty. An escapee from the deepest pits of the darkest prisons, someone who had done terrible, terrible things.

So… when he’d activated the puck, and the hologram of a woman’s face had come up… he was shocked. This woman… she was beautiful. Still young. She didn’t look like she bathed in the blood of her enemies, or killed children and babies, she looked… well, not exactly harmless. There was a glint in her eyes even on the hologram, a spark that warned of danger, promised pain to anyone that tried to hurt her.

A survivor’s look.

Something niggled at him, a feeling he couldn’t quite place. It might have been hesitation, but he ignored it. The bounty over her head was enough that he could take Grogu to one of those sanctuary planets and lay low for a few weeks. Maybe even a few months. The kid deserved it, to be able to play and explore.

And himself… Maker, he was just so tired.

So, he’d pocketed the puck and the fob, didn’t ask who the client was, went back to the Crest and then he was on his way to Sorgan.

Maybe it would take him a little longer than usual to bring the girl in, but it was nothing that he hadn’t done before. After all, stealing back the kid, breaking into a prison, everything else that had occurred recently… this was a walk in the park.

He still believed that, right up to tracking you. Even when he chased you.

He had to admit, he did love it when they ran, even if his back was killing him.

Something about the chase, the frantic fear of the prey as he hunted them down, the conclusion inevitable. It thrilled him.

But… this felt.. different.

You were different. You fought like it was a dance, whirling across the clearing and around his punches like there was a song only you could hear. And you were taunting him, laughing as you did. You lived for this, like you had been bred for it. No… you’d been shaped by it, shaped by the choice of cowering or turning into a wolf. A wolf, like those he’d seen in Lothal.

You were strong, you fought well, he had to give you that much. He knew he would have to work for it, but with the promise of safety lingering, he matched you move for move, determined to hold this out as long as it took.

He’d read your file, read what had happened and used that to his advantage. The words had come easily, even though they had stirred something inside him, perhaps a mirror of the feelings he was encouraging in you.

But then… then you just gave in. Straight away. And not like the others did. Not in the way that they had, thinking it would make him go easier, change his mind.

No, you had completely, utterly given up. He saw it in your eyes. Saw that survivors glint gutter out, a wolf tamed back into her cage with her tail between her legs.

And… it threw him. He had touched something, caught something deep within you as he taunted you. Something broken… that again whispered to his own deepest thoughts. Like calling to like.

He’d ignored it, pushing that thought back into the part of his minds where his darker thoughts lay slumbering – for now. He’d carried you back to the Crest, shackled you to the wall and had made to leave you there.

Only, he had seen that the wound on your shoulder was torn open again, ripped by your fight and his jamming with the rifle. It was bleeding through your tunic, and even with unconsciousness heavy in your body, you still looked somewhat pained.

He’d hovered there, staring at the bleeding wound and having some kind of internal battle.

It wasn’t fatal. It was just a recent injury that had torn open. You’d be fine. He nodded, turning around and making all of one step.

But. A Trandoshan had been the last person to hunt you. They relished in the hunt, had probably fought dirty and used a poison. It might be infected. What if you died on his way back to dropping you off? Or got really, really sick?

Nevermind. The messenger for the Client stated you had to be brought back alive. Alive didn’t mean whole. He carried on walking, trying to focus again on something else… only to pause a couple of metres away.

Help her.

The Mandalorian had turned back around to look at you, a frustrated grunt slipping from his lips. He moved through the ship, grabbing a med-kit and then practically stormed back to you, nearly ripping your tunic as he’d eased up the sleeve.

It wasn’t too bad, a deep wound but it hadn’t been infected, yet. He cleaned it up, spraying it with the last of his bacta-spray and binding it with the last strip of bandages. He’d have to get some more soon, dig up some credits from somewhere.

A cruel reminder of why he took this job. What you were. A bounty. That’s all.

Muttering a string of curses, he finished binding your wound, wrenching his hands away and then made his way back upstairs.

A bounty. A means to an end. The way to getting a break that his aching body craved for.

He was hunter. You were prey.

That was the mantra he had to keep repeating to himself when he’d brought you up to the cockpit.

Had to keep repeating when you were teasing him, which simultaneously ground on his nerves but also made his skin tighten in a way it hadn’t for a while.

It had been a long time, so long since he’d that kind of verbal play with someone.

Hell, it had been a long time since he’d had any kind of play with anyone. He just didn’t have the time anymore, not with Grogu and not when everyone knew who he was. How could you trust someone enough to sleep with them when nearly everyone wanted to kill you?

His new mantra had echoed in his head when you began to verbally poke at him, hitting home about being lonely. He wouldn’t have been surprised if you knew you’d hit a nerve. But thankfully you stopped.

But not before that broken thing had called between you again. Your words were spoken with too much ease and casualness, someone who knew all too well the loneliness and starvation for touch and companionship.

Maker, he had to get rid of you soon.

It had almost been a relief to find the small bounty on this planet. You’d been asleep, the kid asleep too so he’d gone. He didn’t need to wake either of you up, you knew why you were here - he’d told you so this morning.

Besides, it was a small planet, easy prey to catch when everyone here feared the dark. He’d be back in a few hours.

With the way he was so wired, he’d probably be back in two.

That’s the way it was meant to happen.

Track down the bounty, disarm, bring him back, freeze him in carbonite and Mando would have you back in the sky before you’d even woken up.

And it had happened that way initially. He followed the sharp tailed bounty from the fighting pits to a cantina. Had to sit and listen as he boasted about some girl he’d bedded the night before and had screaming his name. He then, of course, launched into detail of said night, drawling about this girl in such a derogatory way that it took all his training and restraint not to just shoot this creep in the head there and then and be done with it.

But, the Mandalorian had endured it. Sat there for an hour or so and then followed him out into an alleyway. Mando kept hidden as the bounty had spoken to a friend, talking about another girl he’d seen. Apparently, this one was even better than last night. He had it on good authority that this girl would be game for anything he wanted to do and more.

And then Spikey had started describing again, in detail, what he would do. And Mando had been disgusted, angry that this creep was talking about a woman this way, such sick and derogatory things. Spikey’s friend asked if this ‘slut’ had a name.

And then…

Your name. That’s what he said.

And that’s when it went wrong.

Your name had barely come out of this animal’s lips when a red haze clouded over the Mandalorian. Everything in him screamed violence and his body went on autopilot, attacking this vile waste of space matter so quickly he hadn’t had time to breathe. Mando didn’t even notice the friend bolt, running away. He was just so focused on taking down the bounty, ripping him apart for what he’d said about you. This one would be brought in cold. He would say that it put up a fight, tried to kill him so Mando acted in self-defence.

His previous mantra of the last two days was forgotten, overtaken by a need to defend you, make sure this guy stayed the hell away from you. Bring him down, freeze him in carbonite and get off of this planet. He fell back into that haze, relying on his skills and instincts.

Except… except that when the haze cleared, he wasn’t leaning over the body.

No, he was the one being pinned against the wall by the bounty, with a strength he hadn’t realised Spikey possessed. What the fuck was he?

Escape training came to him now, but before he could disarm and kill, the bounty began to spew those vile thoughts about you again. About how Mando was keeping you tied to a bed, for his own pleasure. How he was going to take you, ask to keep you, use you-

And then for the first time in his life, Mando forgot his training. He forgot about blocking and defensive maneuverers. He forgot about the myriad of weapons on his body, the Whistling Birds, the flame-thrower.

He reached out in a blind fury to throttle this creep.

He left himself open to attack.

That was the first time he royally fucked up tonight.

Pain had suddenly become a living thing in his side and waist as he slid down the wall, and then his only thought wasn’t of survival, it was of the kid, and you.

You were back in the ship, both of you safe at least. Maybe you would know how to fly, know how to get yourselves out of there and run, escape. That’s what he’d hoped. You were smart, you were a survivor. You’d take the initiative and get yourselves out. Besides, he might not have admitted it, but he trusted you with Grogu.

And then like he’d fucking summoned you… there you were. Launching into Spikey Tail’s side and getting him away. He could only watch as you engaged him in the fight, taunted him with that same tone you’d used on him. Only this time, he could watch you.

Beautiful.

There was no other word for it, as much as he might not have wanted to admit it. You fought like it was a dance, that prowling wolf in you giving way to a viper, striking and falling back with all the grace of dancers he’d heard about performing in Coruscant.

He was almost breathless as he watched this deadly game – though that might have been the blood loss and blow to his head.

He thought he might be sick when the sound of your ribs shattering bounced off the slick metal walls, the muffled cry of agony it tore from you.

But still, the taunts kept coming, and he couldn’t help himself when you complained that Spikey Tail talked too much. You had possibly two broken ribs and yet you were still a cocky little shit. The impressed, huffing laugh that came from his lips was loud enough to be heard by you.

And that was his second fuck up of the night.

What started as an unexpected burst of warmth in his chest as you turned and smiled at him, had immediately frozen his lungs as Spikey slammed you against the wall, strangling you.

Fear shot through Mando, colder than his body had begun to feel. He tried to get up, tried to help you but he couldn’t move. His limbs wouldn’t respond to him.

He couldn’t save you.

He was going to watch you die defending him.

Just like his parents.

No, no, no. He couldn’t. He couldn’t do that, not again. He swore against his body, gathered every remaining ounce of strength that he had and reached for his blaster, just as those sick comments of degradation and ugly lust began to fall from your attacker’s lips.

All he needed was to give you an opening, just one tiny opening and you would do the rest.

Spikey’s lips were creeping toward yours, fear bursting in your eyes as you scrambled for the vibroblade sheathed against your thigh.

An opening, that’s all he had to do.

And he did. He managed to haul his body back from the edge of death long enough to shoot the guy in the back.

You took your opening.

He saw the flash of your vibroblade, heard the muffled, wet noise as it sunk into his bounty’s neck.

The guy fell to the floor in a dead weight. You dropped too and he managed to see you gasp for air, assure himself you were mostly okay before that flame of energy guttered out so quickly, he saw stars.

Darkness hovered around the edges of his vision as he felt his life slip through his fingers – literally, his other hand was pressed to his side in an effort to try and staunch it but he didn’t have the energy to.

This was it then.

The way he would go.

Nothing noble, or heroic.

Bleeding out in a back alley. The creatures in the dark would take him soon enough.

At least you would be able to take the kid and run now. At least there was that.

And then he felt hands knocking his way, significantly smaller hands push into the wound. He couldn’t even make a noise of pain; it didn’t hurt anymore. His vision cleared again and there you were once more, leaning over him with blood sprayed over your face, falling from a cut on your cheek.

No. No.

What were you doing??

You were supposed to escape. You were supposed to flee the mess he’d bought you into and take the kid and run.

He tried to speak, to convey these thoughts to you but his lips had stopped responding. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth. But somehow, it was like you got what he meant.

Your hands began to lift, and he had a weak wave of relief that was marred by the fresh soaking of blood that oozed out of his side. How much had he lost now?

Too much, by the cooling temperature of his body and the trembling that had begun.

He had come close to death before, so many times before but this felt different. This felt like he was losing something. Something that was just within reach but he hadn’t had the chance to grasp at yet. And it was being wrenched away, taken from him and trickling over the stones beneath him in a deep, scarlet puddle.

Maybe he’d begun to hallucinate too, because you were back, leaning over him, hands pressed into him again like they could stop the blood. He lifted his eyes and something in him curled up and panged when he saw that you were already gazing at him.

Gazing right into his eyes.

How you knew where they were, how you looked through the blackened visor without seeing, he didn’t know. But he could read the war raging inside of you, the battle off stay or go.

Go.

Mando tried to talk again, but only managed a faint noise, a croak that sounded so pitiful, he might have cringed at himself had he not started to hear a ringing in his ears. Time was nearly up, ticking away his life and that glimmer of something.

So, he instead just looked at you. You were clearly not made up yet, so he did something selfish.

He put his life in your hands.

If you left him here to die, he deserved it. It was justice. Justice for every ounce of pain he’d caused. The grief he’d doled out to mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, children.

Justice for the life of treachery he had all but dumped Grogu into.

Justice for letting his parents die for him and not save them.

But, if you let him live…

Then he would try harder. He would repent for his mistakes.

He would make sure you were dropped somewhere safely. You couldn’t stay with him, he wrought death and destruction to those around him whether he meant it or not

But he could take you somewhere safe, maybe to Greef and Cara.

Then he would hunt down whoever came after you next, giving you the respite that he was going to keep for himself.

They were the options.

A deserved death, or a new determination to set right his mistakes.

These thoughts swum through his hazy brain at a surprisingly rapid pace, only a few seconds worth of time as he still watched what you would do with this choice. He could see that you understood, understood the choice he had selfishly bestowed upon you.

Only it was too late.

Heavy darkness thundered over him in an unrelenting tidal wave and with a choked gasp, he was dragged under, so deep he might have imagined your arms winding around his battered body, hauling him to his feet as much as you could.

His brain giving him one last reprieve, perhaps, or maybe a cruel taunt to what might have been before he was sucked under and everything went numb.

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#the mandalorian x force sensitive! reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x force sensitive! reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the force #star wars #the mandalorian #rogue #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal

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wonhoarctic · 3 years

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flash | lee hoseok (wonho)

word count: 2.2K

resquest: hii! may i request a wonho angst fic, please? 🥺🥺 thank you in advance!! (i've translated to english)

a/n: hi love! ofc you can, here's your request, by the way, i hope you like it!! ah, and you don't need to be like this with me, we're friends!! (i was going to write it in portuguese but idk if there are people who use to read this, and i did something with ain't about you and with you, that are your favorite songs!! <3

pairing: idol!wonho x idol!fem reader

genre: angst, but with some fluff and smut undertones

contains: wonho can't help but remember about you, lee y/n, the love of his life, his wife and the mother of his beautiful daughter, in the middle of an online concert he's holding, specially when performing his new song flash, which was made just or you (the songs are not in order of albuns!! it's all mixed)

flashbacks are in italic!!!

tw// death, car accident, sasaengs!!

the concert started out with the 'smutty songs', so he wouldn't cry at the beginning, but he couldn't help but remember about when he wrote with you, thinking about you two, loving each other until the morning, or having some rough sex, it depended on the mood, but it was about you two, and he couldn't help but remember; your blissed out face, the sounds you made just for him, mewls, whimpers and moans, just for him, the love bites and scratches you leaved on his skin at hidden places so no one would figure out, your scent, your taste... everything came back to his mind in that moment

hoseok wished he could be at least turned on from the memories he had, but he was broken, he couldn't be nothing but sad remembering about his love, his sweet y/n, who's not here anymore to comfort him after a bad day, to take care of him when he's sick, to make love to him, to kiss and cuddle, to cook his favorite ramen flavors, and to help him to take care of your newborn baby, to help him to change diapers when he don't know what to do, to see you breastfeeding the sweet embodiment of your love... how he wished you were there at that moment, he couldn't believe that you'd left him, that you had left your family

he swore he lost his energy after singing open mind, thinking that he couldn't handle that anymore, he just wanted to lay on the ground and cry, hoping you could hear him and come to cuddle and comfort your husband, but wonho knew you wouldn't come

when lose started to play, he smiled a bit while singing, remembering how you got moody when you entered the set to support him and saw your man hugging the actress by behind, the same way he used to do with you while cooking or doing something important, or when he wanted to talk with the baby during your pregnancy

your pouty face was the death of him, he remembered exactly the texture of your lips on his when he was saying how sorry he was

"you're not going to say a word to me, baby?" you shook your head no "okay, so..." he leaned forward to kiss you, taking care of your growing stomach "do you forgive me now?"

"u-ugh, fine" you blushed, hearing his giggle "but please, do it with me the next time" you laughed

"i swear that in my next mv, you'll be the actress, and our little princess needs to be there too, right?" he smiled

when the sexy concept songs ment ended, a vcr came out, and he made sure to include you on the behind the scenes of the concert, the few last clips of you two together, you helping him with choreographies and figurines, a long video of you guys choosing the right outfits for open mind mv (yeah, he did some of them without the help of his staffs) playing while he changed and prepared himself to the other ment

when lost in paradise started to play, while he sang, hoseok couldn't help but remember that day in which he asked you to marry him, he asked you to be the woman of his life, and he also remembered about your wedding day, smiling widely while thinking about when the two of you started a life

'i got a feeling it's you' said the lyrics, and yes, he got that feeling, and he was completely right, it was you, the love of his life

the wedding ceremony has ended, you two were at a hill, even though he has acrophobia, he insisted to have a wedding at that place, he felt safe in your arms, and now, the two of you looked at the place, seeing the lake below you, and the beautiful view you had from the little forest, his hands still on your hips

"how does it feel to be finally my wife, love?" he smiled

"i feel like... i feel like this is all a dream" you said, caressing the hand on your hip with your other one "and i don't want to wake up. never."

he smiled widely, turning to face you, his hand still in your hip, while the other one caressed your face, carefully wiping the joyful tears that escaped from your eyes, trying his best not to ruin your makeup

"i wanted this dream to come true so bad... i feel like i'm in paradise now" he said "and i'm so happy that our dream finally came true, y/n, i love you so much, and i'll love you forever" he whispered, kissing you

yes, it was true, maybe he was really lost in paradise with you, but now, you weren't there anymore, just memories about you

even losing you seemed to have a different meaning now..... how he wished he could be there to save you, he wanted to protect you

now, it was the interview time, and he wasn't all smiley like before, and the interviewer wasn't helping that much

"so, wonho-ssi... some of your fans noticed that you're not smiling too much today... what happened?" she asked him

"i wasn't going to talk about it, but i can't hide it from wenees anymore..." he sighed "it's just that... every single thing i do here remember me from y/n, my lovely wife, who's not here anymore"

"and what happened to her?" the interviewer didn't seemed to be aware of the situation

"there might be some wenees who don't know what happened... okay, i'll explain" he felt himself getting braver to talk about what was making he lose his sleep "i've hid about my relationship with y/n for about 7 years, but when we got married, i knew lots of fans would talk about it, so our relationship became public... how could i hide this from my precious wenees? i wanted my fans to know about my family" he felt the tears starting to run on his cheeks "i was so happy when i announced that she was pregnant... i thought wenees would be happy, too, but unfortunately, some of them started to become aggressive towards y/n" he was sobbing, even the interviewer couldn't held her tears, starting to feel guilty by asking him that "some obsessive fans started to stalk her when eunbi turned 5 months old and she started to sing again... and near to our princess' 11 month anniversary, when y/n was coming back from mcountdown, some of those wen..." he corrected himself "those sasaengs collided with her car, they were at a high speed, so it was a huge accident, and she didn't resisted..." he was angry, sad, he couldn't help but cry "i couldn't thank her to be with me, to be the mom of my precious daughter... i couldn't say a last 'i love you'... the last thing we did together as artists was the ain't about you mv... and that morning, the last thing she did before going out was to feed our baby girl, and kiss me..." i miss her so much... please, y/n, come back to me... the police had arrested those girls already, but please... say that you love me one more time" all he could do was cry

the staffs thought about ending the concert without an encore, but he insisted to sing the song he wrote for you, flash, while calming himself when the cameras were off

hoseok saw eunbi, his now one year old daughter sleeping while a staff kept an eye on her, he smiled, his eyes were still red and swollen, his face was puffy, so the baby seemed to notice, even if she was still half asleep when her dad held her tightly in his arms, she managed to grab his nose while smiling with the pacifier still in her mouth, her other hand holding the bunny plushie her mom gave her in the 10 months old birthday

"my sweet eunbi" he cooed "daddy will sing a song for mommy today... will you sing with me?" the baby smiled, her pacifier almost dropping, but wonho put it back in her mouth as soon as he could

he kissed her forehead, and then, started to retouch his makeup and change the jacket, holding eunbi in his arms again, going back to the stage

he grabbed the mic, knowing that they were on air, the first public appearance of his daughter, a beautiful moment, even if it was melancholic

Tonight I am still standing In the middle of nowhere, not knowing how you’re feeling I’m trying to find you because I was the only one who didn’t know When and where it went wrong like a fool I want to turn back time and stop it An endless flash, my love for you

while singing, he meant each one of those words, his love for you would be infinite, he'd never stop loving you, or the huge present you left him — a precious daughter, and photos of the two of you were passing through the big screens behind him, photos of your family, wedding day, honeymoon, selcas... everything he had to remember from you

The day I hugged you for the first time The day that will never come again I repeat the words alone, I love you

all he wanted to do in that moment was for you to be there, to sing with him, both of you holding your daughter, smiling... being a happy family, suddenly, he remembered that day, wishing he could turn back time to the day of your first hug, he wanted to hold you in his arms forever

You shined on me like a lighthouse When I was on my own and lost my way, flash You were shining, flash Will I ever forget you? I miss you You held me like a hero When I was unknown, tired and collapsing, flash You were warm, flash Will I ever find you again? I miss you

you were his light, when someone broke him, when he got into those scandals, when he couldn't go back to his fans, you were the one there, you were his flash, helping him to find the way back home, to give him the love he deserves

You left me and I’m the only one here I call you but there’s no answer, what else can I do? I thought I cared for you more than anything But it was my mistake, how hard was it for you? Come back to me please, give me one more chance Shine on me beautifully like you’ve always did I know bae gone be the last time This is how I’m feeling If I can see you one last time, one love

he was calling you even now, his mind was wandering back to all the memories he had with you, his one and only love, but you weren't going to answer him, you couldn't just come back from the dead

The day I let you go from my arms The day that will never come again I repeat these words alone, I want to see you

suddenly, hoseok felt guilty again while singing this part, he shouldn't let you go from his arms that morning, he should've faked being sick, or anything he could just for you to be home and live a little more

You’ve given me so much I still have more to give you back We can’t stop like this If I have one more chance

he wanted to do all he could for you, but you wouldn't be there to see it, and he would never be able to give back all the love and support you gave him, so he was doing his best to be happy for you even tho he's broken, he needed to be strong for his daughter

You left me and I’m the only one here I call you but there’s no answer, what else can I do? The shining flash, yeah Now I can be your destiny Like I’m your everything? If you’re in my arms, I won’t let you go The flash will be shining on us I’m waiting for the day you smile again

he felt the tears teasing his eyes again, but he held them back this time, ending the song with a smile, playing with the baby in his arms, hearing eunbi's loud laugh, filling his heart with some joy, finally, and he truly smiled, laughing with her

"y/n, i love you! thank you for giving me everything!" was the last thing he shouted before ending the concert

even when you're not there anymore, he felt as if he was being the most loved man in the earth by you and your daughter

#monsta x imagines #monsta x scenarios #monsta x x reader #monsta x fluff #monsta x angst #monsta x wonho #wonho #wonho angst #wonho fluff #wonho scenarios #wonho imagines #wonho x reader

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defenderrosetyler · 3 years

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A Prince and His Swan Chapter 3

The Time has come for chapter 3! Thank you to @flamencodiva for helping Beta as usual; There is a small warning in here is a character death, minor language, things like that. WC: 2465 There is also a companion series with this by flamencodiva as well, The Frog Prince which can be found HERE Storybrooke “Good Morning Samuel.” Mr. Gold says, not looking up from his work as the bell above the door chimed, signaling a person's entrance into his store. “Gold,” Sam says, letting out a huff of annoyance. If Gold was going to question him the same as Henry was about his mood? This wasn’t going to be a pleasant visit. Mr. Gold, being the wealthiest man in town, knew almost everything. Including the town gossip.

“Judging by the sound of your mood, it's safe to say you and Y/N had another argument this morning, didn't you?” He says, dark brown eyes looking at the younger Winchester brother. “How are your parents, by the way? Your relationship with Ruby?” “Ruby is none of your concern.” Sam snapped. “Oh, come now, is that any way to talk to a man who helped you and your family?” He says, giving his response in a calm, low tone .”I could go to Rowena and be in charge of all of those finances?” Mr. Gold took a step closer to Sam, giving him a slight glare, “After all, it was originally my contract you destroyed, Boy. But I can make sure to take it back and have you start at square one all over again.” Sam held up his hands, not wanting to argue with the man, “Is it just me, or was the clocktower moving this morning?”

This made Gold raise a confused brow at Sam. This was not the first time he’d heard this rumor, especially with the talk of the new person that had arrived in town, even staying at Granny’s B and B. The bell rang a second time that morning, sounding another patron entering the shop's entryway.

“Good Morning, gentleman.” Sheriff Graham says from the doorway, his hands in his pockets. Cleaning his throat, attempting to diffuse the tension between the two lawyers in the room.

“Good Morning, Graham.” “Sheriff.” Both men, who seemed to be in a standoff, greeted the Sheriff of Storybrooke. Refusing to turn to look at him. “Would you gentleman be interested in a job? I have a client who needs a lawyer, and you two are the only ones I know.”

“Well, Samuel, I think this makes for an interesting deal between us. Let's put that brain of yours to the test. I want to see how well you're able to keep our newest capture in her cell. If you can keep her behind bars, I’ll give you a raise in your salary. This would allow you to pay back Rowena a lot sooner and allow you to save up for any possible future you and Miss Ruby may have.” Sam gave him a look, waiting for the rebuttal of what would happen when he ends up losing. Which Sam had no intention of losing. He wanted to show up Gold. Stand up to him. “If I end up winning and our new friend is freed from her cage?” he says, a wicked look in his eye. “I’ll have you work double shifts here, receiving the same amount of pay. Possibly less, I haven’t fully decided yet.” Sam blinks as he lets his words echo in his ears. Thrusting out his hand for Gold to take, a smirk on his face, “Done.”

Enchanted Forest

“Samuel! We weren’t expecting to see you.” Charming says, greeting his friend from the throne room of his castle. It was full of guests coming to see the newly wedded couple. Then again, the arrival of a royal baby was cause for celebration. Sam smiled, hugging Charming.

“Congratulations on the new arrival on the way.” He smiled, glancing over to see Snow approaching them slowly. “Samuel,” Snow White greeted, making her way towards him to envelope him in a tight hug. “We heard about Odette. Have you found anything?” “I don’t think you’d believe me,” Sam sighed, looking at his friends. “I think I know of someone we can talk to that may be able to help you out,” Charming says, looking over at his wife, who also nods, having come to the same idea as her husband.

The Blue Fairy.

Sam watched as the Fairy approached, feeling wary of her. Dean had mentioned Amaya had been cursed by a fairy, but if Snow and Charming said that she was someone they trusted, he could trust her, couldn’t he?

“Nice to meet you,” Sam says, remembering his manners. Telling the Fairy about Odette and her curse.

“Oh, I know all about her curse, sweet one,” She says sweetly to him. This made Sam blink. Had he told her all of this for nothing? The Fairy let out a sigh. “As much as I’d like to offer my assistance, Rowena’s curse is pretty straightforward in how to break it.”

“Paid in blood,” Sam scoffed, “Charming, I’m not about to let anyone die because of someone I love!” He says, angry at the situation. He wasn’t about to lose Odette. This wasn’t going to end in bloodshed. The translation echoed in his ears, making Sam feel anxious. ‘never shall she be with the ones she loves, until true loves confession be spoken with blood.’ Feeling frustrated, Sam left the throne room, heading to the dungeons. Sam knew that Snow and Charming had Rumplestilskin in their dungeons. Maybe he could help him break the curse from Rowena or at least offer some sound advice. Then again, the man was dark and evil. “No...No, this is foolish,” Sam muttered under his breath. “Nothing is foolish, dearie,” Rumple said from his cell. “Especially if it keeps that little swan of yours safe.” “You don’t get to talk about Odette as if you know her!” Sam snapped, walking up to the bars of his cell. Face red with anger, chest rising and falling in rage. “Who am I kidding? You're just a waste of my time. Arguing with you isn't gonna help me save Odette.” Rumples' maniacal laugh echoed in the dungeons as Sam made his way back to his own castle. There was a ball to prepare for.

Storybrooke “What do you mean you backed out of the challenge?!” Ruby snapped as she looked over at her fiancé. She had been pacing in their living room ever since Sam returned later from home than usual. As Sam sat down, telling her the events of the afternoon, she was growing angrier and angrier. “I mean exactly that, Ruby!” Sam snapped, feeling frustrated and tired of her questioning his every move. His eyes filled with rage, glaring at her. “I don’t care about you anymore!” He says, voice rising as he grew angrier. “If you don’t like my work ethic, then there’s the door.” Ruby blinked, hearing Sam’s sudden outburst. He’d never raised his voice like this to her before. What was coming over him? Sam sighed as he ran a hand over his face. He had to clear his head. Maybe some coffee and sleep would be best for him. The following day, Ruby’s things were all packed, making it clear she was leaving. Sam headed over to the jail with a resounded sigh to say good morning to Graham and check in on things there. Emma Swan was causing quite the gossip around town. What was so special about her anyway? Seeing Emma released from the prison made Sam smile a little. Knowing if he’d kept his bet with Gold, he would have lost. As he made his way over to his office, a voice calling his name caught his attention. “Henry? Shouldn’t you be in school?” Sam scolds him gently, arms crossed against his chest. Henry looked slightly embarrassed. “I wanted to see if you could teach me horseback riding.” Sam raised his eyebrows at the request. “It's just-” “Henry, for the tenth time, I am not a prince in that special book of yours,” Sam says, cutting him off. “Please, Sam?” Henry practically begged. Sam held up his hands, not wanting to argue. Henry grinned excitedly. Then a thought came to his mind. “Henry, we don’t have any horses in town, do we?” Henry nodded, heading to a small ranch in town that Sam didn’t know was there. Then again, Sam didn’t travel much. Mostly, he was occupied with work from the law firm or doing work for Mr. Gold. When not spending time at his place of employment, Sam spends a lot of time at home or even sharing a meal with his brother at Granny’s diner. How else would he know that Singer Ranch even existed? “Henry! Nice to see you, kid!” An older man chuckled. “Hi, Mr. Singer!” Henry greeted, “Sam and I came to ride a horse!” “Mr. Singer,” Sam also greeted, holding out his hand for the elder stablemaster to hold. “Henry’s told me a lot about you, Sam. Let me guess, he thinks one of my horses are yours then?” Sam nodded, clearing his throat. Bobby led them to the stables, where there were three horses. One seemed to catch Sam’s eye. A black horse, the tallest of the three with a beautiful black mane. “That there is Onyx.” Bobby says, “Got him all saddled up for you.” As Sam approached the stable door, Onyx let out a loud knicker. Causing Sam to chuckle, brushing the horse’s nose. “See? He recognized you!” Henry cheered. This made Sam blink his eyes and back up a little. “Henry, I’ve never seen this horse in my life.” He says, trying to argue. “Bet you can ride him though.” Henry says, “Besides if you’re teaching me, you should show me what to do first, right?” This kid was not letting up. Apparently, Sam wasn’t the only one Henry had been pestering. Henry had been pressing Dean too. Making him show off archery lessons when he went to sub as a gym teacher for the day. Sam raised a brow at Henry after looking at Onyx. “If I can ride him properly around the arena, I’d like to know more about Y/N. Clearly, she dislikes me, and I’d like to know why. If I’m truly a prince, then maybe she’s a princess?” “If you can ride Onyx, Henry won’t be the only one impressed. Can’t seem to get anyone to calm him down to ride him. If anything, he tolerates me at best.” Bobby added under his breath. Stepping into the stall, Sam sighed, holding out his hand. The horse had to trust him first before he decided to jump onto his back and ride around the area Bobby had. “Easy boy,” Sam whispered softly. “I’m not gonna hurt you, see? You're not so bad, are you, Onyx," Sam said. He hadn't realized he was holding his breath, letting it out slowly. He's never been close to a horse before, and yet, this horse seems to trust him. The hose gave a soft snort, his nose pressing into Sam’s hand as a sign of acceptance. Moving slowly, Sam placed his foot in the stirrup, pushing off the ground, swinging his leg over, and securing himself on the saddle. Henry noticed Sam shaking his head. Sam still felt Henry was still out of his mind. Sam wasn’t in some fairytale. He lived in the real world. Cleaning his throat, Sam nodded to Bobby, allowing him to open the stall door. “I’ll be damned,” Bobby says in surprise. “That horse barely tolerates me.” “That's because he’s Sam’s horse!” Henry says, trying to stress the point. Placing his book on a stool, flipping to find the page of Sam riding Onyx through the woods. This was crazy. Sam had never ridden a horse in his life, yet he knew how to approach Onyx? Sam gave a gentle click of his tongue, followed by a soft kick to Onyx’s side. Sam wanted to take things slow. Just send the horse on a peaceful walk. Apparently, Onyx had other ideas, moving into a trot instead. Sam gives him a swift kick. “I said walk.” He muttered “I thought you said you never rode a horse before Sam?” Bobby questioned him. Sam blinked, looking over at the older man. “You made him stop on a dime since he wasn’t listening to ya. Only a rider who knows his horse would know how to control him like that.” Onyx was still not pleased with being told what to do, even if being ridden by Sam. He’d been cooped up in the stall for far too long. Onyx broke out into a full canter within a moment’s notice, rushing him and Sam into the woods outside of town. “Damn it, Onyx, slow down, would ya?!” Sam shouts, feeling frustrated and irritated. Why wasn’t the horse listening to him? It was clear the horse wanted to go running, to feel free and run. Sam desperately tried to gain his control back. While he was away, Henry and Bobby talked while looking over his storybook. Bobby was apparently in his book too, but Bobby was willing to sit and listen to Henry. Henry was just a boy. He needed friends to talk to instead of people brushing him off. “Onyx, I said slow down!” Sam snarled at the horse and gives it another firm kick to his rib area. Trying to make the stallion listen to reason. This time, after past attempts of misbehavior, Onyx finally slowed down to a trot then over to a walk. As sunset approached, Sam decided to climb down off Onyx and lead him back to the stables where he’d be in Bobby’s care once again. Offering to walk Henry home before choosing to walk home himself. He really didn’t want to head back to his apartment, didn’t want to face Ruby. She had given him enough of a headache and didn’t want to cause another one. Sam always knew he was welcomed at Granny’s for a meal. Even if he and Y/N weren’t on speaking terms. As Sam made his way into town, though, he heard screaming coming from the jail. It wasn’t anyone he knew, but the woman shouted a name he knew, making Sam feel sick to his stomach. “Graham...” Sam breathed, rushing over as fast as he could to help Emma. “Emma, Emma, what happened?” “I-I don’t know….” Emma stammered. “I….I think he’s dead….” She whispered, in a state of shock. With a frown, Sam leaned over to check Graham’s pulse on his neck then his wrist. With tears brimming his eyes, he rushed over to Granny’s for help. Y/N had just made her way inside from running an errand for Granny, noticing the look in Sam’s eyes. She slowly reached to place a gentle hand on his arm. “Sam? What is it?” she asked. A lonely tear fell down Sam’s cheek. “Graham’s Dead.”

#apahs #ouat fic #sam winchester x reader

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skullsandwineglasses · 4 years

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The Rebel Princess - Final Review (SPOILERS)

I tend to be quite critical right after I watch the finale of a drama since emotions are high, so my review might be a little harsh. My feelings might simmer over the next few days while I digest things, but for now, I’ll break down my impressions into 3 parts: The “Good”, The “Didn’t Make Sense”, and The “Could Have Been Better”.

The “Good”

The final scene. That’s the first immediate good thing that comes to mind. That’s probably the only good thing tbh. To be clear, these last 5 episodes weren’t bad. Everyone got their comeuppance, our leads live happily ever after, and Wang Su finally sees the light and goes against Daddy Wang by saving baby Jing’er. But, there were quite a number of things that frustrated me while watching.

I will note one other good thing, which is that we got to see our favourite OTP act out a show to misdirect the rebels in hiding and lure them out. We finally get to see our leads collaborating and putting their smarts together! But, this meant that they had to separate again for the millionth time in this drama. And even though it was just an act, the fake confrontation scene between them still stung. As a trashy romantic, I wish we got to see more scenes of them together, especially towards the end of the drama.

The “Didn’t Make Sense”

But because we finally get to see them work together, I wished we got to see more scenes with them plotting together. This is the first time that they’re working together to uncover a political plot, and yet it’s only relegated to one short conversation scene between them after Awu returns from meeting with her brother who refuses to tell her who’s behind the scenes pulling the ropes.

ALSO, the drama never really addressed how Xiao Qi kind of handwaved Zitan’s involvement in the Neem Yu Shan plot. How did Xiao Qi go from “I need to have vengeance for my betrayed fallen soldiers” to “I need to help uncover the plot against the crown”. It’s kind of implied that Awu might have already told Xiao Qi about the truth before Song Huaien does, but the drama never makes that clear because we never see that scene if there was one. If Xiao Qi learns about the truth from Song Huaien first, does he then talk about to Awu? Again, we don’t know because it’s never shown to us. Instead, right after we see him learn about it from Huaien, it then immediately cuts to the confrontation scene with Awu. BUT, since this confrontation scene was revealed to be planned by them, it means that they’ve already discussed the Zitan problem in private beforehand, and Xiao Qi already knows that Awu knows, but we never see this conversation. It’s also revealed that they’ve long been suspicious of Huaien, but when did this suspicion start? Again, we don’t see this conversation. We just have to guess.

This is just one example of how these last 5 episodes made it VERY obvious where scenes were deleted. A lot of scenes were cut abruptly where one scene would suddenly cut to the next, and you kind of had to infer what happened between those scenes. Things still made sense and you could still follow along, but you could tell that they cut out scenes that would have helped flesh things out and make the transitions smoother.

Villains: Nearly every villain in the drama (Jin’er, Zitan, and Song Huaien) turned back into their “good” old selves again during their downfall. And because of this, it made the finale of the drama pretty underwhelming. Jin’er expressed how she misses the old days to Awu and calls Awu one of the most important people in her life, Zitan sees the light and promises to yield the throne to his nephew and face punishment for his actions, and Song Huaien uses his last dying breath to ask Xiao Qi to take him back to Ning Shuo and how he doesn’t want to be in the capital anymore (when he literally has an arrow to the heart while sitting on the throne he just stole). These characters take an abrupt 180 degree turn when they’ve been blind with envy and hatred for most of the drama. Just moments ago they were shooting daggers out of their eyes, and then suddenly they regret everything they’ve done. Their downfall felt too easy, and their redemption felt even easier and unearned. And Awu forgives all of them (as expected). When she pitied Zitan, I was like, girl, he doesn’t deserve your pity. I get that she needs him to sober up in order to discourage the rebels, but still. He had his own brother killed and tried to have her husband killed. Instead she consoles him like a lost puppy. I know that Awu’s a saintly character, and I’ve talked about the virtues of her character before, but sometimes I wish she’d be a little less saintly.

I think Daddy Wang’s final scene fit most well with his character. He’s defeated, but doesn’t entirely express regret for his actions. Which makes sense for his character. He’s never doubted his decisions all throughout the drama, so why would he start now. Even when Awu asks him if he ever loved her mother, he doesn’t answer her. Instead, he deflects the question back to her to ask if she loves Xiao Qi or Zitan, which is such a laughable question. How is Zitan even still considered a potential love interest for Awu at this point? In response, Awu tells him “此愛非彼愛”. Which I’m still trying to interpret?? To directly translate it, it would translate to “this love is not (comparable to?) love”. I’m having trouble interpreting 非彼. 非彼 means “not comparable to”. Is Awu saying that this love isn’t comparable to another love? Is she saying that this love isn’t considered love? Love for whom? Is she taking about her love for Xiao Qi and how it’s not considered “love”. Does she mean what she feels for him is more than love, or different from love? Or, does she mean her past love for Zitan isn’t love? Why is her response so vague? Her dad asks her if she loves Xiao Qi or Zitan, and she instead gives him such a dense, poetic response. Maybe my mandarin isn’t up to par to translate these historical dialogues, so I’ll be curious to see how the subs translate this line. Anyway, in the end, Awu asks her father if he would agree to being buried next to her mother, and after ignoring the question for a bit, he finally says that he wants to be buried next to her.

The treatment of women: The Elder Princess and Yu Xiu both sacrificed themselves in hopes of getting their loved ones to stop rebelling. And then Awu pulls the same move with her father in order to remind him what her mother had done in hopes of stopping him. And this was after we see Hu Yao and Nanny Xu needlessly die in the previous episodes. So all these female deaths and sacrifices made it feel like the female characters in the drama are disposable and can be easily killed off by the writers. It just didn’t really sit well with me that on 3 instances in this drama, a female character tries to use herself as leverage against a male character who’s about to commit treason. I’m also still not over Hu Yao’s death at the hands of Song Huaien, and we never get to see a proper burial for her because she’s a minor character, so the drama couldn’t be bothered to show it. The Dowager Empress also had a very anticlimactic end. She was such a major player pre-episode 50, and then suddenly she was bedridden and only heard about palace news from her maid and wasn’t able to exert much influence over the court. It was a little disappointing that we don’t get to see her wield any of her old power again after episode 50.

The “Could Have Been Better”

This might be unpopular opinion but, I think Awu and Xiao Qi kind of lost their spark in the last couple of episodes, or at least, it’s more subtle now. Probably because the plot was focused on bigger things, which I understand. These are the final episodes after all. They’re also a long-married couple now, they don’t need to constantly reaffirm their love to us. And the final scene was sweet, so I shouldn’t be complaining, but I wish we got more scenes of them alone together. I said this in a reply on another post, but their sexual tension peaked during the early episodes of the drama. It’s too bad we don’t see that level of chemistry again.

Something that I found funny was how we see Awu stand next to Zitan by the throne twice to protect him. The setup was almost exactly the same between the two scenes where Awu stands to his right. It was like the writers couldn’t figure out a new configuration for how to block the scene. The first time was during the “pretend confrontation” with Xiao Qi, and the second time was against Huaien. I just felt the the repeat setup of this scene was kind of boring and uncreative to watch. It was like the writers couldn’t come up with another way to stage a potential rebellion, so we’ll just have Zitan be cornered around on the throne twice.

Also, Huaien wanting to suddenly take the throne and also Awu as his Empress? First of all, I don’t understand why people, who don’t have the approval of the masses, always want to become Emperor. Do they not realize that by forcibly seizing power, you’re going to lose it just as quickly because no one likes you and they’ll try to take you down? I have the same criticism for Daddy Wang and Zitan. But does Huaien think that he has enough military power to become Emperor? And unlike Daddy Wang, Huaien doesn’t have any significant political impact over the lords. Also, does he think that Xiao Qi would just never come back? Second, him asking Awu to become his wife? We don’t really see him feeling tortured over his affection for Awu again since his wedding with Yu Xiu, and now suddenly, years later, it’s revealed that he still yearns for her? And he declares his love right after stabbing her dad? I mean, writers, please. I know you want to create drama, but it has to make sense.

To be honest, I’ve always found Huaien’s character arc a little hard to believe. He’s such a noble character for the first third of the drama, and then it’s revealed that he’s always secretly harboured a greedy side. A side that craves status and recognition. He then downward spirals into this monster who kills nannies and female comrades and wants to be emperor. We see small hints of his desire for the throne, like when he eyes Daddy Wang’s tailor-made royal robes. But this desire is not fleshed out enough. Huaien’s arc could have worked, but because the drama didn’t focus enough on his internal struggle at the beginning since he isn’t the main character, the change felt abrupt. I don’t know how the book handled it, so I can’t speak to that.

Things just escalate so quickly in this drama. I can now see AvenueX’s criticisms about the political plot of this drama and how it looks like it could have be written by a 10 year old. The writers seem to want to make things as surprising as possible, while also using a lot of old tropes that it becomes predictable. It’s very unrealistic. And the villains’ motivations and ambitions seem limitless. It felt like anyone could lay claim to the throne.

The political scheming in this drama has never impressed me, so I suppose that I shouldn’t be surprised that these last few episodes were just as lukewarm. The problem with the political plot of this drama is that there were no smart characters except Daddy Wang. It’s just a bunch of drama queens(TM) who want power, but do a poor job of thinking things through.

The highlight of the drama was the romance, which was a huge surprise since I didn’t start watching this drama for the romance. And yet, despite the romance being the highlight, the OTP is constantly being separated, and we barely got to see them together in the last few episodes. And the scenes that they did have together in these last few episodes weren’t memorable. If anything, their chemistry kind of fell apart during these episodes because we barely see them communicate directly with each other.

Final Thoughts

Overall, I’d still recommend this drama just for the leads alone. You don’t see that kind of chemistry in idol dramas, and I don’t know when we’ll be able to see this level of acting between two well-matched actors in dramas again. Watching them is almost like a once-in-a-life-timeline thing. However, I think the average viewer might become frustrated with Awu halfway through. The drama’s also very bingeable (in fact it should be binged, instead of dragged on for almost 2 months). I think I would have enjoyed more if I watched all the episodes at once, instead of waiting for episodes as they came out every week, which meant that while waiting, I started to pick apart little issues that I had with the drama.

#monarch industry #the rebel princess #上阳赋 #cdrama #cdrama review #zhang ziyi #rant #cdrama impressions #i wish i could watch Awu and Xiao Qi fall in love again for the first time #sigh #i only watch like 3 dramas a year #so i guess imma be dramaless for the next 6 months

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word-scribbless · 4 years

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Smile Again Part 1

Note: This is part one of my new Hotch series!!!! There is a whole lot of just back story in this one and setting the scene! More cuteness to come! A lot of slow burn fluff and some hurt comfort not really full blown angst!

X female reader

Summary: JJ’s cousin Y/N has been through a lot in her 37 years of life. She’s moved to Virginia to start to move on with her life,until meeting Aaron Hotchner throws a wrench in her plans in the best way.

Masterlist ——— Series masterlist

———————-

Y/N Y/L/N had just moved to Virginia to be closer to her best friend and cousin, Jennifer Jareau. If she were being honest this isn't how she'd imagined her life at 37 would be when she was younger. If you asked her then she'd have told you that she saw herself married with kid number 2 or 3 on the way, not a widow running from her past. Life has its own ideas for the way our lives will go though doesn't it. Y/N had a few things on her side however, she had her dream job as a translator for a publishing company where she worked remotely. She also had a loving, if not overbearing family to lean on, and lean she did. For the past three years Y/N was living and helping out on her parent's farm in Pennsylvania. She recently decided it was time to move to be closer to JJ, and the publishing company she worked for. She loved all the help and support her family gave her but she also needed to start over fresh and she knew that meant moving on physically as well. It wouldn't hurt to also get away from her family treating her like glass and closer to her cousin that, while just as overbearing at times, knew she was capable of more than grieving the death of her husband, and her hopes for the future.

She knew after the first week of living in Virginia near JJ that she made the right move, she finally started to feel like a human again. Y/N loved living in an apartment not far from her favorite cousin and her family. She especially loved that she now got to watch and hang out with her favorite little kids, Henry and Micheal, whenever JJ and Will both had to work. That morning Y/N was woken up at 4:30 in the morning to the ring tone she saved for JJ, Spice World, at top volume.

"Ugh, I never thought I'd say this but it's too early for spice girls." she grunted as she picked up the phone.

JJ chuckled and said "Sorry my dear. Wil is away for training and we just got a case that they need me on do you think..."

"I'm on my way" Y/N cut her off "I'll stop for coffee and bagels"

"You're my favorite person," she says.

Y/N rushed to get ready and grab her go bag. She learned quickly to keep one after she moved to Virginia and picked up more munchkin sitting duties, as she calls them. She headed to JJ’s favorite coffee shop, which was quickly becoming hers too. She arrived at the Jereau-Lemontague house quickly and was getting settled in on the couch when she heard JJ’s phone ring.

“Jayje, a handsome man named Hotch is calling” she whisper-yelled into the kitchen looking at the photo icon of Hotch on her cousin’s screen.

“That’d be my boss, He’s single by the way” she winked as she took the phone.

“Shut up” Y/N replied with an eye roll.

“Hey Hotch” JJ answered.

Y/N could make out most of the conversation from where she was perched drinking her coffee. She could tell that JJ’s boss was telling her that he was running behind because someone named Jessica had an emergency and couldn’t watch Jack. She assumed Jack was his Son as she heard JJ respond that Will was away too so he couldn’t watch him.

“Psst” Y/N called trying to get JJ’s attention without being rude. “Jack is Henry’s best friend right?”

JJ nodded.

“Tell him to bring him over, I’ll watch him. The more the merrier right?”

“Hang on Hotch” JJ said, turning to Y/N “you’re sure? He’s a great kid, you'll love him, but that’s a whole other human.”

“I’m sure! Tell him” she gestured to the phone.

“Hey Hotch. My cousin,Y/N, is watching the boys. She's amazing with them and she says Jack is welcome to join the party.” After a bit of convincing Hotch agreed with many ‘thank you’s. Before she knew it the very handsome man (who was even more handsome than his picture) showed up at the door with a very sleepy little boy in his arms.

“Hi I’m Y/N, JJ is just grabbing her bags, I’ll show you to Henry’s room.” she smiled.

Hotch got jack settled on the un-used bunk of Henry’s bunk beds and kissed him on the head. Y/N led him out of the room and turned to him.

“I know you don’t have much time but do you have anything specific you need to tell me?” She said handing him a note with her full name and phone number on it.

“Thanks. He’s pretty easy going but I wrote down some basics that I usually give to baby sitters. JJ trusts you though, so I do too.”

“Thank you. Call whenever you want okay? Be safe, and keep my Jayjee safe too.” She smiled.

“Always” he nodded.

Hotch and JJ decided to carpool to Quantico for the briefing.

“Y/N seems nice.” Hotch says as he drives, face serious as usual but JJ can see the softness. She knew Y/N and Hotch would get along. They had more in commen than most people knew, but unfortunately that included a big lose and both Being very closed off to new relationships. However she had hope.

“Yeah, she’s my very best friend. She’s amazing with kids too so Jack is in very good hands.” She smiled.

“I can tell” he replied.

“I’ve missed her, she was back in PA for the last few years but before that she lived in Maryland so it wasn’t too bad of a drive. Still this is way better."

“Does she work with children for a living?” he asked, trying to seem his normal nonchalant self, but not truly caring because he knew JJ saw straight through him anyway.

“No she is a translator for a publishing company. She translates books to and from other languages. She studied linguistics and Languages in college and has her PHD. She’s basically the whole package!" She said with a wink, causing Hotch to chuckle.

“Why so many questions? You interested boss?” she asked jokingly.

“wh-, I-, she’s watching my kid, I was just...” Hotch stumbled in a way he prided himself on not doing often.

“It’s okay, I think she’s interested too.” She said quietly.

“What?”

“She had the look after you talked” she laughed at Hotch’s confused face.” It’s a look I’ve only seen a few times but it means she’s interested so do what you will with that just be careful with her. She’s been through a lot.”

“JJ” Hotch warned firmly.

“I know I know, I’m dropping it!” she said and stuck to her word, changing the conversation to their kids and their adorable antics.

Throughout the case JJ and Hotch each called Y/N every night to check on their little ones. JJ made sure to check on Y/N too while Hotch usually kept their chats short but couldn't deny he enjoyed talking to her. She found herself looking forward to his call each night, she knew it was stupid but she let herself enjoy the butterflies a little bit anyway.

She had also been enjoying her time with not only 'her boys' but also Jack. Jack is a sweet kid and she loved talking to him about school, and soccer, and his family. One night before bed, after Michael and Henry fell asleep, Jack asked Y/N if she had any favorite stories.

“Of course I do, my mom used to tell me a story about fairies every night before bed.” Y/N replied.

“My Daddy says that my Momma used to sing me special songs before bed.” Jack said with a sad smile. “Daddy sings them sometimes but they make him a little sad, I wish he had someone to make him happy.”

“He has you sweet boy” Y/N cooed and kissed his head.

“I know but I mean besides me” Jack said.

“You don’t have to worry Jack, because I like to think that no matter how much someone hurts, there is always someone else out there that will make them smile again.” She assured him and smiled as he cocked his head to look up at her. “I lost someone who made me smile too, but I still find new people who make my life happy. My cousin and her family, you…” she smiled

“My daddy?” Jack asked.

She smiled and said, "Yeah your Daddy too, I don’t know him very well but he has to be great to have a kid like you!” she chuckled.

“He’s the best.” He said as he snuggled into her side, “You lost some one you love, like how daddy and I lost my momma?”

“I did” she nodded. "His name was Connor, he made me very happy but I know he looks over me and keeps me safe. Just like your Momma does for you and your Daddy.”

Jack looked up at her and smiled as he started to tell Y/N all about what he remembers about Hailey and how he feels. Y/N snuggled up close to him, listening and adding in here in there until he falls sound asleep.

She knew that when Aaron and JJ come back she’ll have to talk to him about this but for now she’s just happy that that that sweet little boy feels comfortable enough to open up to her. Their conversation however had her begin to think about Connor, and the day her whole life got turned upside-down. Hearing Jack talk all about his mom made her almost want to open up about her own feelings about her late husband after all this time, but for now she’s just curl up with some tea and JJ’s Netflix account.

————————-

Thank you to @winterscaptain for the encouragement and help.

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner x imagine #aaron hotchnerx reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #hotch x female reader #fem!reader #female!reader

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bookcoversalt · 4 years

Note

Have you noticed the latest edition of Charlie Bowater can only draw one (1) face? She did The Princess Will Save You and Cast In Firelight both YA Fantasy set to be released this year. And they are how you say... the same fucking cover

Ah yes so you saw the same tweet I did

I know I literally just posted that we cannot outlaw book covers from looking like each other, but ! Oof!

The only thing that softens the blow here is that Charlie has improved at representing nonwhite features such that characters look like POC rather than tan white people, although,, that bar was low. Anybody remember the ACOTAR coloring book.

(Would you have guessed that 2/3 of these people are nonwhite? Or even that they’re supposed to be three different men? I guess all the men in Prythian have the same haircut?)

But that minor victory is mostly lost in the quagmires of the fact that Charlie’s style is to give everyone instagram face:

I wouldn’t even call this “Sameface” necessarily: that implies limitation, that an artist is only capable of drawing a single facial structure competently. Bowater is incredibly technically talented, she just chooses to give everyone catlike fae eyes and the cheekbones of a starving nymph. (My previous post on this here.)

But I don’t really blame her for that, or for these hilariously identical, nearly devoid of personality covers. Artists are allowed to do whatever they want. Artists who make art for covers are being art directed by designers and marketing teams who bear responsibility for how the finished pieces turn out.

No, this is our fault, as a community and an industry and..... society, kind of, for valuing character portraits that are “pretty” (“pretty” being an extremely loaded, culturally subjective concept) over art that actually Says Something About The Story. Bowater’s style happens to dovetail perfectly with what we currently collectively find pretty, and so we’ve put her art on a pedestal at the cost of everything else art can or should do for our stories.

And this is understandable: in contemporary western culture, pretty is a value unto itself. Seeing our characters portrayed as pretty denotes them as special, as smart, as powerful. It’s almost impossible to de-program ourselves from that reaction. There are approximately five kajillion studies on how beautiful people are at personal and professional advantages; how they’re perceived to be happier, healthier, more successful, and how those perceptions can translate into realities. (Nevermind how thinness and whiteness enter that equation, see above note about “pretty”.) I would love to see more “average” or weird- looking characters abound (and be accurately visually represented) in the YA/ Genre lit sphere, but for now... everyone is pretty.

Which sometimes means everyone is pretty boring.

But that’s just the specific, "What’s the deal with Bowater’s success in book circles and her style and all the sameiness” part of this equation. What if we backed up and asked: why character art at all? Beyond a question of “pretty”-ness (and general obvious Artistic Quality), why do we gravitate towards it, what's the purpose of it, how does it fall flat in a general sense, and how can it be utilized more effectively?

This is something I think about all the time. I follow writers on social media (because..... I am a writer on social media, regrettably), and we have an enormous collective boner for character art. “Getting fanart [of the characters]” is one of the achievement pinnacles constantly cited when people get or want to get published. Commissioning character art is something we reward ourselves with, or save up for (WHICH IS GOOD AND CORRECT. FREE ART IS GREAT BUT DO NOT SOLICIT IT. PAY YOUR ARTISTS). And like???? Same????? We love our stories because we’re invested in our characters. Most humans, even prose writers, are visual creatures to some extent, and no matter how happy we are with our text-based art, it’s exciting to see our creations exist in that form. So we turn that art into promo material and we advocate for it on our covers-- because it’s so meaningful to us! It goes with the story perfectly!! Look at my dumb beautiful children!!!!!

But on an emotional level, it’s hard to grasp that it only means something to us. Particularly when you take into account the aforementioned vast landscape of beautiful visual blandness of many characters (in the YA/ genre lit sphere, that’s pretty much all I’m ever talking about), character art can be like baby photos. If you know the baby, if that baby is your new niece or your friend’s kid, if you’ve held them and their parent texts you updates when they do cute shit, you’re probably excited to see that baby photo. But unless it’s exceptionally cute, a random stranger’s baby photo isn’t likely to invoke an emotional reaction other than “this is why I don’t get on facebook.”

Seeing art of characters they don’t know might intrigue a reader, but especially if the characters or art are unremarkable-looking, it’s doing a hell of a lot more for the people who already have an emotional attachment to that character than anybody else. And that’s fine. Art for a small, invested audience is incredibly rewarding. But like the parent who cannot see why you don’t think their baby is THE MOST BEAUTIFUL BABY IN THE WORLD???? I think we have trouble divesting our emotional reaction to character art from its actual marketing value, which.... is often pretty minimal. This is my hill to die on #143:

Character portraits, even beautiful ones, are meaningless as a marketing tool without additional context or imagery.

I love character art! I’m not saying it should not exist or that it’s worthless! Even art that appeals to only the one single person who made it has value and the right to exist. And part of this conversation is how important for POC to see themselves on covers, whether illustrations or stock imagery, particularly in YA/kidlit. I’m not saying character portrait covers are “bad”.

I am saying that I have seen dozens and dozens of sets of character art for characters who look interchangeable, and it has never driven me to preorder a book. (Also one character portrait for a high-profile 2019 debut that was clearly just a painting of Amanda Seyfriend. You know the one. There’s nothing wrong with faceclaims but lmfao, girl,,,,)

I’m sure that’s not true for everyone! I am incredibly picky about art. It’s my job. There’s nothing wrong with your card deck of cell-shaded boys of ambiguous age and ethnicity who all have the same button nose and smirk if it Sparks Joy for you.

But if your goal is not only to delight yourself, but to sell books, it’s in your best interest to remember that art, like writing, is a form of communication. The publishing industry runs on pitches: querys, blurbs, proposals, self-promo tweets. What if we applied that logic to our visuals? How can we utilize our character design and art to communicate as much about our stories as possible, in the most enticing way?

Social media has already driven the embrace of this concept in a very general sense. Authors are now supposed to have ~ aesthetics. “Picspams” or graphics, modular collages that function as mini moodboards, are commonplace. But the labor intensity and relative scarcity of character art visible in bookish circles, even on covers, means that application of marketing sensibility to it is less intuitive than throwing together a pinterest board.

Since we were talking about it earlier, WICKED SAINTS, as a case study of a recent “successful” fantasy YA debut, arguably owed a lot of its early social media momentum to fanart.

(Early fanart by @warickaart)

The most frequently drawn character, Malachiasz, has long hair, claws, and distinctive face tattoos. WS has a strong aesthetic in general, but those features clearly marked his fanart as him in a way even someone unfamiliar with the book could clearly track across different styles. Different interpretations of his tattoos from different artists even became a point of interest.

(Art by Jaria Rambaran, also super early days of WS Being A Thing)

Aside from distinctiveness, it's a clear visual representation of his history as a cult member, his monstrous powers, and the story’s dark, medieval tone. The above image is also a great example of character interaction, something missing from straightforward portraits, that communicates a dynamic. Character dynamics draw people into stories: enemies-to-lovers, friends-to-lovers, childhood rivals, platonic life partners, love triangles, devoted siblings, exes who still carry the flame-- there’s a reason we codify these into tropes, and integrate that language and shared knowledge into our marketing. For another example in that vein, I really love this art by @MabyMin, commissioned by Gina Chen:

The wrist grip! The fancy outfits! These are two nobles who hate each other and want to bone and I am sold.

In terms of true portraits, the best recent example I can think of is the set @NicoleDeal did for Roshani Chokshi’s GILDED WOLVES (I believe as a preorder incentive of some kind?):

They showcase settings, props, and poses that all communicate the characters’ interests, skills, and personality, as well as the glamorous, elaborate aesthetic of the overall story. Even elements in the gold borders change, alluding to other plot points and symbology.

For painterly accuracy in character portraits on covers, I love SPIN THE DAWN. The heroine looks like a beautiful badass, yes, but the thoughtful, detailed rendering of every element, soft textures, and dynamic, fluid composition form a really cohesive, stunning illustration that presents an intriguing collection of story elements.

The devil isn’t always in the details, though: stark, moody, highly stylized or graphic art with an emphasis on textural contrast and bold color and shape rather than representational accuracy can communicate a lot (emotionally and tonally) while pretty much foregoing realism.

The new Lunar Chronicles covers are actually the best examples I found of this (Trying to stay within the realm of existing bookish art rather than branch into All Art Of Human Figures Forever):

Taking cues from styles more typical of the comics and video game industries. (Games and comics, as visual mediums, are sources of incredible character art and I highly recommend following artists in those industries if you want to See More Cool Art On Your Timeline.)

TL;DR: Character art and design, as a marketing tool (even an incidental one) should be as unique to your story and your characters as possible, and tell us about the story in ways that make us want to read it. I tried to give examples because there are so many ways to do this, and so many different kinds of art, and I could give many more! But I’m bored now. So to circle all the way back:

These are not just bad because they look like each other, although that is embarrassing and illuminating. These are bad covers (although,,,,, PRINCESS is the far worse offender, at least FIRELIGHT suggests a thoughtful cultural analogue) because a desire for Pretty Character Art overrode the basic cover function to tell us about the story. We get no sense of who these people are, what their relationships are, what these books are about beyond the most general genre, or why we might care. The expressions are vague, the characters generic-looking, the compositions uninteresting and the colors failing to be indicative of anything in particular.

They’re somebody else’s baby pictures.

(And yes, that’s the CRUEL PRINCE font on PRINCESS. I better not have to do a roundup post but it’s on thin fucking ice.)

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casmybelovedass · 4 years

Text

The Destiel Folder: Season 10

[Season 4; Season 5; Season 6; Season 7; Season 8; Season 9]

Episode 1:

Cas is slowly dying, practically naked, in a bed, and the first thing he says when talking about Dean is "I miss him" (6:35), with a soft smile. "Why would he just disappear?"

... I'm sorry but If Cas Were A Woman, this would look like a scene from a movie or something, where the wife talks to a friend over the phone about her missing husband. JUST SAYING

Crowley: "The girl seemed nice. Slightly damaged. I could see the old you falling for that." (9:29) uhm... who else is "nice and slightly" damaged? I don't know... CASTIEL??!!!

So... these two men (actors Todd Mann and Brad Mann) we see with the DemonGang, are real life twins (9:14).

At (27:18), Crowley states him and Dean did "extroardinary things to triplets" ... and, well, the only twins with a possible other sibling we see are... them

And this is not the first time we hear about Dean doing "things to triplets" with a buddy of his (15x07)... and the first time he was NOT a demon... so, there's that. And triplets don't necessarily mean "all females"

Cas, while talking about the good things that come with choices, mentions "hope, love, dreams" (39:06), and Hannah points out that "those are human things". Human things...

Cas is talking about his own personal experiences with creating chaos, so those are the things he felt after rebelling for... Dean... WOW. ICWAW, it would totally be read it as a reference to Dean. A romantic one. Fight me

Episode 2:

Cas is dying, just got back from a fight that left him wounded, doesn't have enough power to heal himself, is on a mission to restore Heaven, and once again he chooses to go save Dean (9:35), and the way rage builds in his eyes when learning Dean has become a demon. Look at this shit

I might be crazy, but this feels like a touching metaphor to me:

"I think you don't know what you want. Tell me, Dean. What are you? A demon? [...] Maybe you're human. [...] Why don't you do us all a great, big favor... and pick a bloody side!" (22:22)

METAPHOR

Episode 3:

We are reminded that, even tho in terrible conditions, on the verge of death, Cas is willing to risk it all to save Dean, and is devastated by the thought of Dean not making it (4:47 - 5:17)

This is so funny to me, I'm sorry, but Cas is so visibly uncomfortable with Hannah touching him, it's hilarious (15:58)

"I've been around humans for long enough to see how easily distractions occur. Emotions, feelings... They're dangerous temptations." (22:32) like rebelling against your own kind, destroying your home, falling... all for a human?

"I'm trying to keep our priorities clear." Moments earlier, Cas listed "Getting to Dean" (22:17) before anything else. In fact, Hannah says "I am very clear of my priorities... and yours." = Dean (23:00)

Cas is not sure whether the cure will kill Dean or not, and in any case, he wraps his arms around him, and softly says "It's over... Dean it's over." (35:40) as if hushing him to sleep, in what could have been their last moments together... wow. Think about this ICWAW

"Well, I can see his point. Only humans can feel real joy, but... also such profound pain. This is easier." (36:17) Look at the way Sam is looking at Cas looking at Dean

BITCH OKAY!!

SAM KNOWS

POSSIBILE future Empty reference "real joy"

Cas already stated he misses being human, but knows how fragile they are in both body and spirit:

Castiel really wants to be with Dean. For real. But maybe he thinks (see season 9) him being an angel is an obstacle to their feelings.

Only by being human he can truly be happy (MMMMMMHH SEASON 15), but isn't sure he could handle the pain that comes with it. A possible rejection, the thought of Dean dying, him leaving Dean... MMMMHHHHH

"You look terrible." [...] "Well, you, on the other hand, you... *checks out Cas* Looking good." (39:09) full homo right there. Also parallel with Ketch in 13x18 ("You don't look good." "Yeah, well, you're not my type, either.")

The way they are looking at each other here... man.

Cas is so happy to have Dean back, and Dean looks hurt about Cas leaving so soon.

"So... so, you're back?" "At least temporarily." (39:27) bitch, you know that's not what he ment.

In all of this, Cas is trying to make Dean feel better about the whole situation (DAT SMILE 40:18), and Dean replies with "I'm glad you're back, man.", basically no-homoing himself...

Cas starts walking out of the room, but stops and turns back [insert concerned husband here] (40:27), and Dean has that hopeful look in his eyes, like Cas is going to stay, and the hurtful look comes back as soon as Cas is gone

Episode 4:

"On your knees!" "Wow, I'm awfully flattered-" (34:33) SASSY BI DEAN IS THE DEAN WE DESERVE

Episode 5:

Fucking kill me NOW!!! Dean's reaction to Destiel is PRICELESS!! And even before he learns what that is, he just looks at the girls playing him and Cas and... freezes for a moment (13:18) And the eyebrow raise thingy at (13:34)... what's going on in your brain, Dean?

I'd like to point out that the Italian translation for "You can't spell 'subtext' without S-E-X" is, for once, AMAZING:

"It's just that... their bond is so strong it has subtext of a... sexual nature."

THANK YOU ITALIAN DUB! JUST THIS ONCE, THANK YOU! (13:43)

Also at (9:44) Dean immediately reacts to the implication of Wincest subtext, shutting it down and telling the girls to take a step back, but with Destiel he is like... alright

... this is so fucking cute, (25:54) Dean adjusts the girl playing Cas' tie so that it's messed up like the real Cas'. ADORABLE

SAM SHIPS IT (13:57) and is teasing the SHIT out of Dean, who reacts like someone being teased about their crush. Just saying (14:08 - 14:52) [AND THIS HAPPENS IN FRONT OF A PINK-BLUE WALL]

"I know I have expressed some differences of opinion regarding this version of Supernatural." (26:44) ... oookay meta? *turns to "Cas"* "And I want you to put as much sub into that text as you possibly can." ... oKAY?!

Episode 7:

Cas being extremely uncomfortable with women is too fucking funny to me (5:03 - 12:51)

Episode 9:

(15:13) Alright, so, this is a date... what now? Anyway, nice bi flannel, Dean. And the little sweet smiles you two are giving each other? So fucking precious (16:01)

"I ain't exactly a role model." "That's not true." (16:07) how Dean looks at Cas right after that? BABIES!

"How are you, Dean?" "Fine." "*I-call-bullshit look*" "I'm great!" "No, you're not." (16:18) #MARRIED

As Cas is choke-holding a guy, Dean, clearly amused (almost proudly), says "I'd do what he says." (22:17) Like that time with Raphael in 5x03, Dean likes it when Cas gets rough

Episode 10:

Shut the fuck up and marry each other already so you can finally actually BE the old married couple™️ you ALREADY ARE (22:17)

This is the "My husband is so FUCKING STUPID" look (22:30)

"I was hoping you might reach out to her." "... Me? I'm probably the last person she'd want to hear from." [...] "All I know... is she won't talk to me." (23:03) #MARRIED, PARENTS, PERIODT

Shut the fuck up. Cas is the dad trying to figure out technology (23:36) "I'll text you her number. I like texting. Emotions!" DAD

Cas worries about Dean like a wife would with an alcoholic husband

Of all the things Dean could be MAD about at Metateon... the first thing he can think of is him stealing Cas' grace (31:33) (okay, maybe he is going in chronological order but STILL)

Episode 11:

[I AM SO SO SO SORRY BUT DEAN USED THE ALIAS "PRESLEY" (18:55) I AM NOT OKAY]

Episode 14:

Have this deleted scene: Castiel and Crowley bitching over Dean, and Crowley calling Dean Cas' boyfriend

This is some hell of a goodbye-eye-love-making scene (26:57)

Cain compares himself to Dean... and CAS TO HIS WIFE COLLETTE [PARALLELS]

"You're living my life in reverse [...]

First you'd kill Crowley. You'd get it done, no remorse. (Cain had been killing his descendants, for whom he didn't care much)

And then you'd kill the angel, Castiel. Now, that one... that, I suspect, would hurt something awful. [And than Sam is Able, bla bla...]"

AM I WRONG?! YOU'RE GONNA LOOK AT ME AND TELL ME THAT I'M WRONG??!!!

Dean gives the First Blade to Cas... oKAY (37:10)

Worried brother-in-laws (41:27)

Episode 16:

This is such a good source of hidden meanings scene! Dean starts his "confession" as a scam. Everything he says at first is to attract the spirit.

He starts talking about seeing lots of women, not being able to control himself, and being sick of it. Then the real confession begins...

Dean feels he's going to die soon, and fears not death itself, but what he would be missing from his life.

"There's things... people, feelings that I... I would experience differently than I had before. Or even for the first time." (25:28) and the priest believes Dean is talking about love.

Well... "people, feelings"... who could he be referring to? Does Dean want love all of a sudden? People he wants to experience for the first time... uhmmmm... Is Dean opening up to his attraction to MEN??!! Or one angel in particular?

ICWAW we would guess Dean was talking about Cas

"Who mixes their blood and bones into paint? No woman has ever done that for me." (39:19) UHM- Dean, what about

6x20 "He has bled, died bla bla bla for us",

7x21 "I'm always happy to bleed for the Winchesters" or

9x22 "You just gave up an entire army for one guy"

ICWAW we would ALL roll our eyes at this statement and scream CAS

THE GUY BLED, LOST HIS HOME, REBELLED, DIED FOR YOU!! HE REBUILT YOU PIECE BY PIECE FROM HELL- SAVED YOU DOZENS OF TIMES!!!

Episode 17:

About saving Dean from the Mark: "We won't- (free Metatron)" "Yes, you will... because you're desperate." (9:44) Hannah knows. Let's remark that

"All I'm getting from you is... colours." (14:26) bitch he is a walking 🌈PRIDE FLAG🏳️‍🌈

Notice how, when we get a Sam-Cas centred episode, we don't get the same interactions with Dean-Cas? Why this?

Dean is always ready to call Cas a "brother", but the only one true bromance here is Sam and Cas'. There are no longing stares, no weird sexual filled dialogue nor tension, NO LONGING STARES

Facts, my people. Facts

Episode 18:

"You killed my friend." "Oh, pff, Dean is fine, mostly. Can't you get past that?" "Never." (12:39)

Charlie being excited about meeting Dean's famous boyfriend is WHOLESOME (37:34)

To have Cas back, 100%, safe and sound, is a win for Dean (38:58) and the face Cas makes after Dean hits him with another no-homo "It's good to have you back, pal." is "UHH not this again". Charlie already ships it

Episode 20:

A #MARRIED couple and their daughter. NO ARGUMENTS VALID (7:06)

Look at how they enter the motel (16:22)

OH MY GOOOOOD!!! #PARENTS coming back home from shopping!! THE HAND ON THE SHOULDER!!! Also

"Happy birthday. I got it at the Hot Topical" DAD

Dean: "Imma head back over there." Cas: "I'm coming with you." Claire: "I'm coming with you too." (17:24) #FAMILY

A fucking family comedy about a dad confronting the daughter's boyfriend and the other dad scolding him:

"What did you do to him?" "I didn't lay a hand on him!" "Dean, that isn't exactly true." "... Well, I didn't kill the guy." (17:14)

Surprisingly enough, this is not the first nor last time Dean acts like a dad to a lost child (AND TWO OF THESE TIMES THE KID IS SOMEHOW RELATED TO CAS) (21:54)

Episode 22:

C: "Claire, you are not going out there. [...] It's too dangerous. I can't let anything happen to you." D: "Claire, you're not going." C: "You're not either, Dean." D: "What?" (19:29)

#FAMILY DON'T TALK TO ME!

"No fighting. [...] Both of you." AAAAAA

This doesn't fucking matter, but Dean just said "... for the ladies. Or the fellas. I don't judge." (36:23)

Cas' speech to Dean... wow. "So if there's even a small chance that we can save you... I won't let you walk out of this room." (39:20)

I hate this scene. (40:11)

Dean is overwhelmed by Charlie's death, Sam and Cas' betrayal, the Mark changing him and all the other shit.

The Mark is taking over, and Dean can't (and won't) help it. Cas knows it. He doesn't want to hurt Dean. He is not even resisting. Doesn't put up a fight.

And just like Colette with Cain, Castiel only asks Dean one thing: "Stop." (40:38) [9x11]

Parallel to 8x07:

The only thing that stops Cas from killing Dean, is him begging, clutching onto his sleeve.

"Dean... please..." (41:08) Cas pleading Dean, clutching to his arm, makes him resist the urge to kill him.

Episode 23:

You can find gifs and the script of some deleted (destiel) scenes in this post by @charlie-minion

As the Mark eats Dean... he starts feeling guilt for the people he hurt... first on the list: Cas (14:54)

(This gif is not mine)

Well... what a season.

[Season 11>>]

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shhhlikeme · 4 years

Note

Hello, could I have a request? If it’s not too much of a bother, maybe about kenma having a crush on a foreigner who’s still new to speaking Japanese, so he teaches her how to speak better, gets to know her better and finds out she’s also a gamer? Sorry if it’s too specific, I love your writing!! 🥺

Thank you so much for reading my work! I adore Kenma he is everything so thank you for requesting him. I didn’t want to stop writing this! I hope you like it!

Kenma x Foreign Student Reader

——————————

You were the absolute ONLY thing that could take Kenma’s attention away from his Nintendo switch

When you trotted into class silently that day as a new student that just moved to Japan from [Your City] Kenma just scribbled in his notebook like he always does when the teacher is talking because he didn’t hear you come in

The teacher asked you to introduce yourself and you did, shyly and in less than accurate Japanese

This got catboy’s attention

When Kenma heard your angelic voice he lifted his head up from the paper for the first time that day

Baby boy is smart af. He doesn’t even need to listen in class and he gets straight A’s

His eyes widened when he saw you. You clearly weren’t from here and he didn’t know how he felt about that

He takes a mental note that you looked.....different.

Um, good different.

VERY good different. He realized, as he studied your features

Kenma thought you were beautiful and although your introduction had grammatical errors, he found your mistakes quite adorable

You sat in front and to the left of him which was ideal for Kenma because you couldn’t really see him staring

Since Kenma is a gifted student he is always abnormally bored in classes. His teachers always took away all of his electronics so he didn’t even try anymore. This current Modern Japanese class was no exception until you joined, and as the days went by he found himself not even missing his electronics for the first time in his life because he shared that class with you

He has you to look at now

You were so pretty and interesting to him.

He wished he could talk to you

Hiding behind his hair so that he wouldn’t get caught with red cheeks and all, he sighed admiringly as he watched you listen diligently to the teacher. The way you looked when you were concentrated made Kenma’s stomach hurt because you were just so cute. Watching you made him wish he had Kuroo’s confidence when it came to girls

Maybe he would ask Kuroo for advice, albeit a mortifying thought

Day after day in class Kenma watched as you read the teacher’s lips in hopes of slowing down the language in your head better. When everyone got a worksheet in class Kenma always did his work fast and just smirked to himself because you would quietly sound out everything you were reading and translate it to English.

So cute

Kenma knew his fair share of English because of his American gamer friends, so when he heard you translate a Japanese word incorrectly, which would have been detrimental for your grade on this paper, Kenma wanted so badly to jump in to help you

But he was anxious

In silent panic, he watched you whisper the wrong answers out loud because you had translated one early sentence incorrectly .

Oh no.

You were going to fail!

What would Kuroo do??? Kenma thought.

In his animated mind, he conjured up an air bubble version of Kuroo looking down at him and lecturing him, telling Kenma that: “you are like blood that should flow towards the blood that has the most attractive body covering it which is obviously a reference to the cute foreign girl you have a crush on so STOP BEING SUCH A WUSS AND HELP HER, KENMA!”

Kenma shook his head violently. The air bubble version of Kuroo disappeared.

God, even in his made up thoughts his best friend was obnoxious

Kenma’s volleyball team, Fukurõdani’s volleyball team and Hinata all knew Kenma’s true personality.

They knew that Kenma wasn’t a shy person like most people initially think when they see him alone in the corner. In fact, he wasn’t shy at all. He just didn’t like people. Learn the difference.

And when Kenma did like specific people he still wanted them to stay at an arms length

So why did he like you so much? He was convinced that he wouldn’t mind having you closer than an arms length because of how pretty you are. Kenma liked looking at aesthetically pleasing things, and in that respect you were much much better than his games or his volleyball friends.

But jumping in to save your assignment still wasn’t him. It just wasn’t Kenma. He didn’t chat to others in class and enjoy it like everyone else in this school. He liked chatting with Kuroo, Shōyō, and his gaming pals, sure. But everyone else was slightly annoying.

But not you.

He wasn’t annoyed by you despite the fact that he’s been watching your embarassing quirks for over a week now. He felt quite the opposite for you, actually...

Completely unaware of Kenma’s daily analysis of you like you always were, you smiled as you finished your work. Ready to leave, you collected your paper, preparing to hand in the open-book assignment worth 40% of your grade. But before you stood up you felt a delicate hand on your arm, halting you.

“Uhhhh.......” You look up to see the most gorgeous boy you’ve ever seen in all the countries you’ve been in. He had striking cat-like eyes that made your heart beat faster and his voice was soft and alluring.

With a serious face, he removed his hand from your arm and pointed to your sheet. In perfect English he said, “That means “theatre audition” actually. Not “movie theatre.”

You were shocked that his English sounded better than your Japanese

Kenma felt a burst of pride within because he could infer that he impressed you with his English

You blushed and quickly started erasing the subsequent answers. “Oh my gosh, thank you so much.”

You expected the gorgeous boy to walk away after that but you were even more taken back when he pulled up a chair next to you.

His sudden movement blew breeze in your direction which wafted the mango-scent of his shampoo toward you. You almost salivated. His hair was so shiny, he was so beautiful and to top it off he smelled to-die-for.

“You made minor translation errors in question 1, 4 and 5 too. Mind if I help you? My name’s Kenma.” He asked hopefully, still speaking to you in impeccable English.

You introduced yourself too while blushing some more and of course you accepted his help

Throughout the rest of class, Kenma, talkative as ever—asked you a bunch of questions in order to get to know you. You shared with him that your parents were divorced and that you decided to move from [Your City] where you lived all your life with your mom to move in with your dad in Japan for high school and University because you loved/missed him. You told him that your dad spoke Japanese to you as a baby but you lost a lot of it living so far away and having no one to practice with.

Kenma became more and more intrigued by you. He could listen to you talk all day which would probably give his best friend a heart attack since Kuroo was put on a strict talking time limit that kicked in after 3 hours.

The more the cat boy learned about you the more he wanted to learn. Especially when you mentioned that your favourite hobby included gaming.

Kenma, being fairly asexual but attracted to you, was unfamiliar with the way the concept of you gaming turned him alllll the way on.

He imagined you beside him during his gaming weekends wearing a baggy t-shirt & just your underwear underneath like he wears.

Damn

He flushed

Let’s just say Kenma had trouble shifting inconspicuously under the desk to adjust his tightened pants when he thought about you gaming.

He mentally prepared to get himself off on the thought as soon as he got home tonight

Yep. You officially had him wrapped around your finger, and you didn’t even know it.

You had no idea that that conversation would go on forever

You had no idea that Kenma had always denied tutoring others when the Modern Japanese teacher asked, and that is why the teacher gladly allowed you two to work together

You had no idea that the rest of the class was ASTONISHED by the quiet and stunning setter of Nekoma (who does everything in his power to not be approachable and avoid social situations) going out of his way to keep a conversation going with another student

You had no idea that all the Kenma admirers were soooooo jealous of you right now

You had no idea that Kenma would glare back at the girls who glared at you and try his best to become your friend in the coming weeks

You had no idea that you both would enjoy every moment of your close friendship. A bit too much

You had no idea that, weeks later, Kuroo would force Kenma into confessing to you, even if it was over your favourite game as avatars... and you would cry tears of joy

You had no idea that you would lose your voice cheering for your boyfriend at Nationals........twice.

You had no idea that upon graduation you two would adopt an adorable kitty and name her -cinema-

You had no idea that years later, Kenma would become the husband of your dreams and that shortly thereafter you would give birth to the most beautiful cat-eyed baby girl that was a splitting image of her stunning bearded father

Just imagine daddy Kenma all grown up with a beard omg

No.... as you sat there in class trying to repeat after him the Japanese sentence on the worksheet, you absolutely had no idea

But

When Kenma asked for your number at the bell and you blushed beautifully again, he felt butterflies in his stomach by the sight, and that’s when

He did have an idea that all of that would happen.

Because love-struck Kenma wouldn’t accept anything less.

#haikyuu!!#haikyu requests #haikyuu boys #haikyu #daily haiku #kenma x reader #kenma x you #kenma kozume #catboy #nekoma #karasuno #haikyuu suggestions #kenma fluff #kenma sfw

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girlofthefandom · 4 years

Text

Tales from the smp thoughts and random quotes I enjoy (essentially delayed live blogging) Part 1

I love all these npcs already

“Hurry up camera man!”

Yes! Gladiators! I remember seeing someone say that idea

Just some joes

Porkeous the 7th. Oh no I can see the fan girls now.

Yes! Punch em off!!

“Yeah same.”

“That’s good cause I don’t” “we build a new colosseum every time”

I can’t want to see the names of everyone’s characters. Especially Philz’

Stairs everyone’s worst enemy

Tubbo... sweet child

She disappeared!! Witch craft! Burn the witch!

Tubbo=Jacky (forced off streets)

Fundy=Laggius Maximus (I love this name so much with the spinning)

Please don’t kill both the boys in this fight. But also I’m cheating for Laggius.

Subbin Empire? Subbin to Technoblade!

Go Laggius! This is not going to go well... this is really not going to go well...

No I refuse to root for Jacky. I like Laggius the bit will be funnier later.

I want to know what happened to the last camera guy! Let us know!

Vertical feeling! Heaven forbid! Also look at them insulting TikTok

I love the background music. Feels magical.

A lovely jump

Surprises... well that’s ominous. And wait the first one!

Tower! Towers are always good.

We got our popcorn. Ready to watch this fight.

Laggius is... coming... maybe...

GG Jacky... he hasn’t won yet but gg.

Lava!!!! Hooray! Love us some good lava

Poor Laggius... he was burning too early

And Laggius is still lagging

Why isn’t Jacky burning?? He won???

Knocked unconscious in the lava. What is this a Pokémon game?

GG Jacky.

Nobody needs to know the way around here.

“Almost like a video game” just break that fourth wall right down

Keeps looking at sapnaps character and talking about strong. How sweet. We love some fiancé’s.

Please don’t throw Laggius to the wolves

Jack Manifold = Bartholomew

Phil having to translate. I love it.

Watson = Phil

Good pun. Very good pun.

Nobody likes Punz. Gosh everyone’s so mean

We love Watson. Let’s go Watson.

Bartholomew with the drugs and Watson.

Crazy drunk man with fire resistance

I agree with Watson why did we come to this cousin.

Sapnap in a hole

Also I love the drinking age being 3

Let’s go Watson!!!

Where are my Pom poms? I’ve got a Watson to cheer for.

Execute those architects.

And their first Borns.

Watson! Watson! Watson!

“Welcome to the land of the living Bartholomew.”

I love the slow fight.

Come on Watson shoot em!

Oh no. Oh no. Come on Watson. You’re so close!

Noooooooooo.

Why Bartholomew???? I can’t spell that! I’ve been relying on autocorrect this whole time.

Watson would be so much easier to spell.

Still must go down the stairs.

Speed running life. That’s what I do.

No one dies. Just take them to nurse joy.

Poor Punz being so bullied

Punz=Levi

Levi? Really? Oh well I like the name. He won’t like but I like the name.

Also why does Levi have such a full backstory.

Has weapon hands with a horrible southern accent. I love it.

“Hmmm”

Who is Ol’ Sap?

Sapnap = John

And no creativity apparently.

Laggius had the best name for a gladiator. All the others are too boring.

Why are we beating up BBH

Hannah=Genevieve

Genevieve! I can spell that thanks to old Barbie movies!!

Go Genevieve! Trained her life! I love this woman!

Mostly women upstairs. I love it our fandom is so biased.

“Are you sure about that?”

Darlin? Really that’s not the right word.

Go Genevieve! I probably shouldn’t cheer for her since everyone I’ve cheered for has lost.

But still GO GENEVIEVE!!

Our empire is millions in dept

Let’s step up the battle! Let’s gooooo

“Ayyyyy!!!”

Go Genevieve! Levi hush up with your gills.

Jump in! Splish Splash!

Wait why are we listening to Mario Kart music? Wait I recognize this song.

Go Genevieve!!

YES FINALLY! I PICKED THE WINNER!

Levi hush. You done lost messed up southern boi.

Go Genevieve! I can actually spell your name!

I straight forgot Porkeous the 7ths name for a second and had to check my notes.

Stairs. Woop de doo.

“Pick the most handsome” wow

Ol’ Sap = John as I remember. And he’s sticking with it. Bold man sticking with it.

Ranboo = Ran

Just Ran and it’s just the enderman part of the skin. Haha. Very funny.

BBH = Edward

He went from strange voice to normal(ish) voice

I don’t like Edwards speech pattern. At the very least. Yucky.

John v. Edward letsa go

Go John!

Wait we renaming? This is going to get confusing.

Handsome. Can you two quit flirting (not really keeping going)

Alrighty then Ugly v. Edward

Go Ugly! (Sentence I never expected to type)

The seat thing

And saying king Julien. Sigh.

Just BRB real quick.

Thinking about buying things. Oh he meant ad.

Alright Ad 1/3 let’s go.

No I can’t even open chat to watch them instead of the ad. Boooo.

2/3 let’s get this done!

3/3

Snickers just loading for forever

Alrighty we survived.

And a crown really? Just wants his normal skin back.

Let’s go Ugly!

Bo-at battle! Let’s go!

Please don’t shoot Ugly.

Go Ugly!

“King Are you ok!”

I still hate Edwards speech pattern so much

Please. Just pretend to have a fair fight.

The rabbits???? Cant rabbits swim?

Hooray rabbits! I don’t what purpose they serve but I love them.

Edward or Edwardo? Did I miss something?

Ok it seems both.

Shooting a rabbit? Disowner on you disowner on your cow.

Killing pets reference? The references are so good.

YES UGLY!!!! Thank heavens!

I’m 2/4 for choosing the winner.

I hope ugly keeps on winning

“Colosseum Remote Control”

3 in 1 battle how did they not plan correctly for an even number

Nerds hold cameras you heard it here folks

I don’t want to hear deeper for some of these stories. All I want to see is Genevieves further story. She seems deep.

“Massive pigs growling at us. No offense”

Watson trying to clean the table.

We bringing in the Harmonika.

Harmonika fits the moment.

Yes name him handsome! Haha

Grievous is how I’m spelling that stupid sounding name. But it’s better than John and ugly.

I can’t get over the name Ran.

BE GONE LEVI!

I love Watson having to take care of Bartholomew. Translating for him and waking him up.

Phil just can’t resist playing the dad.

No no stopping just fighting.

Also I love Watson saying break it up. I wish Watson had won.

Genevieve sounds like such a lovely lady and she deserves to win.

As much as I love Grevious I want Genevieve to win.

Sapnap=Grevious good gracious this is hard to follow.

Ran is cool. I’m going to kill over listening to them just saying Ran.

Complicated backstory. Found the main character.

Ran is cool.

Wait this place is going down??? Pardon me???

Three person fight is...

Grevious v. Ran v. Bartholomew

Genevieve v. Jacky

Puns! Let’s go! And of course Levi likes Puns.

Everyone is so mean.

GO GENEVIEVE!

And Watson just babysitting Bartholomew

I’m going to get good at spelling Bartholomew. Because I was horrible at it before.

Empire of women!

Cages=Lava

“Mmm what smells good”

Battle star!!

“Boing Boing Boing”

Water dome?

Water Dome in Lava?

Well he tried zombies/bunnies

Lava in the water sphere?

Only fight at top of fishbowl got it.

GO GENEVIEVE!

Come on girl you’ve got this!

No Genevieve babe please don’t lose.

“The boats going down.” “It’s yelling timber.” “Like that song that hasn’t been made yet.”

Hurry up and die. I love it.

NO GENEVIEVE!!!!!

Do do do do

That was a longer fight. But pretty good.

To the cellars! Not to the cellars!

No! The boat is gone!

That was close.

This feels like a funky Pokémon game.

Jacky is a finalist! Good for him. I’m not cheering for him but good for him.

TRIANGLE FORMATION

Who’s missing? Oh wait it’s Bartholomew

“Intense prison cosmetic surgery”

Rabbits! We love rabbits.

Oh no faceplant mode!

What is even happening?!?!

Thinking creatively.

Just don’t die. What a game.

Cant wait to watch the thinking creatively animatic.

In a boat to avoid floating.

Attack!

Go Ran!

Oh we’re lagging.

Disable the dive mode!

The zombies are a bit much. Oh everyone’s actually fighting.

Rats why weren’t there baby zombies when Watson was going. They even made a Phil reference.

No treaties.

Go Ran! Keep on running away.

I love Ran.

GO RAN! I love Grevious. But GO RAN

Faster Zombies. Zombies go zoom.

Oh Grevious won.

Wait why does Ran have grass and why do they see him again.

Placing more dirt to clean old dirt.

Poor Grevious.

I feel sorry for him now.

Stand on da dirt.

Put the rabbits in the cages!!!!

I cheer for Grevious.

And yes there are many a loser.

Everything is so spicy. As in lava is there.

You can’t kick your fiancé’s future descendent out of the gang.

A full inventory

Watson with the backup button!

Seriously all he can do is be a dad.

OH BOY LAGGIOUS IS BACK!

And he’s here for the picture.

And Watson is (still) bullying him!

Bartholomew is pure trouble.

Ooops. The root beer was on the brain.

Watson! Come get your drunk!

Oh wait he actually did! I love this so much.

Petition for more Phil in Tales.

Only Genevieve voting for Jacky

Some people refusing to vote.

I’m sorry who asked if Laggius is ok.

He is always (not) ok

He is fine. See.

I love Laggius’ character the most.

Go winners!

Reformed kinda. If that doesn’t sum up the whole of the smp.

All the grass in the cage.

And Laggius being his slow self.

Nothing v. General

I love how it went from King to Emperor to King

And there is Laggius.

I don’t know how anyone else is spelling Laggius but I like this way and refuse to edit it if it actually spelled different.

Oh we’re getting more ads.

1/3 let’s go

#tales from the smp #tftsmp #dreamsmp #dsmp #delayed liveblogging

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chibivesicle · 4 years

Text

Golden Kamuy chapter 259 & 260 - predictable events [shrugs]

Chapter 259 starts with a flashback to Abashiri Prison as Boutarou is released from solitary confinement. Shiraishi asks him what he did to land in solitary, specifically who he beat up - and we learn it was Ueji. This goes back to the story by Ueji about how he told Boutarou he saw his aunt, a woman that Boutarou has now confirmed never existed. Since Ueji was messing with Boutarou, he was upset/offended enough that he had no problem killing him.

This shows us that Boutarou seems to be sensitive to joking/teasing/bullying as Shiraishi chides him for his frequent trips to solitary.

This allows for us to see a contemplative/serious facial expression on Boutarou’s face before he continues the conversation with Shiraishi who is picking his nose with his toes?

This then allows for a wistful looking image of Shiraishi replying that he doesn’t have any family waiting for him outside of prison, and he was abandoned at a temple as a baby. This knowledge of abandonment is how Boutarou wants to connect with Shiraishi; that they are alone in this world at the present.

This allows Boutarou to ask him if he’d return to the temple, but Shiraishi could careless; he ran away in the first place and it likely doesn’t exist as it seemed to be on its way out. As expected, he just jokes if he had a lot of money he’d spent it on prostitutes (and implying that he’s filling his emptiness with transactional sex).

Nihei, reminds them the only thing that matters is to use the tattoo as a way to get out of prison and do whatever you want unrelated to the gold. This is expected for the man who returned to the mountain to hunt.

They return to Boutarou’s goal, to amass a small fortune e.g. the gold and create his own kingdom. The next page or so just focuses on how he came from a large family with 14 members and how he was the only one who didn’t die of smallpox. He isn’t just interested in having a large family to compensate for his lost family, he goes beyond that where by becoming the king, he’ll always be remembered and not forgotten as the founder. He is a man who wants to preserve himself not only genetically through having lots of kids but also through mythology and nation building concepts.

Shiraishi and Nihei tease him a little about his dreams which they find to be completely unrealistic which he is not amused with. Speaking very frankly with him, Shiraishi points out that Boutarou is a lonely guy and that his dream is a reflection of his loneliness.

This exchange is interesting to me for two reasons. 1.) This shows us that Shiraishi is an observant guy which we know but it is another instance of it in his past. 2.) He can be very blunt and forward with Boutarou. I find him to be very assertive with Boutarou, a man who just came out of solitary for beating up another prisoner. Yet, Shiraishi can speak like this with him and this also alludes to their current time line interactions where Boutarou respects Shiraishi and understands him well - as well as Shiraishi understands him.

This frank openness between them continues on the next page. Shiraishi jokes back that he’s been a king - and escape king. But Boutarou’s critique of him is a valid and honest one.

Breaking out of jail isn’t a long term plan. Having a dream like Boutarou’s is a viable plan, that since he is unwelcome in current society, he’s like ‘fuck this - I’ll just make my own society’ He lost his home and community support and it was clearly influential on him as a child both having a family and then the loss. So, for him creating his own special home is his driving force in his actions and reason to become involved in the hunt for the gold.

And not missing a beat, he tells Shiraishi he also needs to create his own home if he lacks one - just like him. The level of frankness between the two of them - they clearly have more than just a passing ‘professional’ relationship.

The manga returns to the current events and Boutarou is telling Asirpa to let go of the door so that she can return to her home with Sugimoto and that they can become a family. I get it, he knows she has a crush on him and all little girls dream of finding a man and getting married etc etc. I don’t doubt Asirpa’s crush on Sugimoto, but she is also not the type of young teen girl who would be so simple minded.

Sugimoto is struggling to breathe in a corridor of the brewery as he falls into his rather pathetic monologuing about how pathetic he is. Nice copy and paste of the rifle there Noda. We saw it a few chapters ago when Ogata was eyeing Usami’s which was also Ogata’s when Vasily sniped at them.

Why do I not take Sugimoto’s whole ‘boo hoo’ bit seriously? Because this shows us how he actually sees Asirpa and her relationship with him. He ‘finally got her back’ she ‘got stolen away again’. Even with the English translation, the intention is still clear, Asirpa is like an object to him.

Read these following sentences;

1. Kiro and Ogata stole Asirpa from Sugimoto.

2. Kiro and Ogata kidnapped Asirpa from Sugimoto.

3. Kiro, and Ogata took Asirpa to Karafuto.

As an objective reader of the manga which of these is the most factually correct? Number 3, at heart Kiro and Ogata had a plan to take Asirpa to Karafuto to learn the code and connect with Sofia. Yet, this is not the narrative that Sugimoto tells himself or others. He continues to go with number 1, that Kiro and Ogata stole Asirpa from him and now Boutarou stole Asirpa from him. Asirpa is something that he possesses. This is problematic as it shows how unequal their partnership is.

I’d argue a more equal partnership if he used number 2. That she was kidnapped which is a word we use to distinguish people from mere objects in English. Is my argument 100% based on this - not quite since we are working with the translation of the original text, but ever since Karafuto, Sugimoto has acted like Asirpa is something that he and only he has privy to and completely ignores the fact that she is her own person and will exercise free will.

Therefore, this also pokes holes in Boutarou’s reading that Asirpa will cave to the idea that if he tells her to go home and marry Sugimoto that will solve her problems. I’m pretty confident that Asirpa does not see her relationship with Sugimoto the same way that he sees her and Shiraishi already made a point about this back before they were to meet up with Tsurumi.

Anyways, back to the action. We don’t see if Asirpa let’s go of the door, we just see that Koito is aggressively approaching Boutarou with his sabre raised and notices that he has Asirpa.

With is luscious locks, Bouatrou is able to distract Koito and punch him with his long reach. He goes to shoot Koito, but a shot hits his hand with the revolver and it is Tsukishima close behind.

He orders Boutarou to withdraw, and he dashes out with Asirpa and heads to a lower level where the beer flood happened.

Asirpa is still resisting trying to hold onto the railings of a staircase, making his fast escape a bit of an issue. She also is able to raise a fundamental question - the gold was supposed to be used by the Ainu to create their own country. Therefore, if the gold is stolen by Boutarou, she will be unable to protect her own homeland - the one he keeps telling her to go back to.

We get an image of the clear cutting of the forest in Hokkaido that almost killed her and then she thinks of the kotan where Wilk was born that is now a fox farm. The traces of her Karafuto relatives is already gone, taken over by the Japanese for less sustainable practices.

Boutarou sweats nervously, he doesn’t have an answer for her since this is now an example of conflict with their own dreams and goals for the gold. However, this philosophical pause from him, allows for Koito the strike him with his sabre from behind. Koito prepares for his second strike as Boutarou falls back into the pool of beer.

Asirpa meanwhile still clings to the stair railing as Koito is ready to strike again.

Boutarou swims off and it is unclear where he’s gone to. Koito is impressed by Boutarou’s toughness as Asirpa coughs on the stairs. Only then do we hear Tsukishima’s voice asking Koito where he is. And with that I internally groan.

Me - goddammit Koito! Why did you go and do almost the exact same thing you did on the ice floe and with Sugimoto. Don’t rush ahead with no back up. You just realized he’s a tough guy. Well, at least this time he tells Tsukishima where he is and to come quickly.

He says that he secured Asirpa and doesn’t notice that Boutarou has emerged from the beer and is clearly going to attack him. He looks like a gross beer/swamp monster, his teeth visible and eyes covered by his long hair.

By time Tsukishima arrives with his rifle at ready he sees Asirpa and only Koito’s sabre.

[facepalms]

Come on Koito, I’m rooting for you buddy, but please stop running ahead. You are slowly getting better, but one aspect of being a leader of men is to have men to lead, not leave behind.

And the chapter ends with his heightened tension that Koito has been pulled back under the beer.

I have other deep thoughts (lol. terrible pun) about chapter 259 so lets move onto 260 which goes back a few seconds to show us what happened to Koito. Boutarou reaches out towards Koito and he’s able to overpower him.

Asirpa tries to crawl away as Koito drops his sabre and is drug under the surface of the beer. We all know that Boutarou is going to try to drown him as he can hold his breath longer than his victims.

Tsukishima finally reaches where Asirpa is and he flat out asks her were Koito is. She ignores him and tries to dash away, but he grabs onto her wolf pelt cloak. The last panel then shoes her as she draws her knife and swings at Tsukishima!

Yes! Asirpa is about to use her knife against him! There is so much desperation in her behavior. Koito then reaches his hand up as bubbles come to the surface, and we see Tsukishima holding Asirpa’s hand on her knife. Tsukishima calls out for Koito and Asirpa tells him that he was pulled into the beer.

He then uses his rifle to hold her against him and still holds her hand with the knife out of the way as he tells himself that Asirpa is more important than everything else.

Koito is held underwater as his boot sticks out and we see that Boutarou is trying to strangle him with his hair (he truly has impressive hair!) as Koito begins to weaken. We are left briefly wondering if Koito will be abandoned - but come on, we know what will happen.

Tsukishima kicks Boutarou in the head allowing Koito to sit up. Tsukishima then shoots Boutarou, and we see some blood diffuse out into the beer. Tsukishima is focused as he ejects the empty shell and Boutarou swims off.

He tells Koito to get out of the beer as he may return, and Koito angrily asks about Asirpa. She’s heading out on her own, as the smoke causes her to cough her knife out and ready. Koito is upset that Tsukishima[aaaa] let her go to save him. This is so interesting to me as it does show that Koito felt that he is less important than Asirpa. He was willing to potentially die which, despite his impulsive behaviors, this time he at least seems to be aware of it.

Tsukishima can’t look at him as he apologizes and Koito berates him that saving him is not a priority. This pretty much seals the deal for these two men. Tsukishima is Koito’s older brother and he has shown that he doesn’t have it in himself to hurt Koito for Tsurumi.

This is at least one instance where Koito does at least own up and state that he should have followed orders. So, kudos to more self-aware Koito, though I’m sure he’s still thankful that Tsukishima saved him.

Nikaido is randomly wandering around (clearly no longer wanting to kill Sugimoto) as he finds her.

She again aggressively goes to strike him with her knife. Asirpa is beyond desperate - is she trying to mirror Sugimoto by just forging ahead and attacking everyone with no thought about harming them?

But just like with Tsukishima, she is immediately overpowered. Without her poison tipped arrows, she’s at a huge disadvantage. Emulating your crush’s fighting style isn’t going to work.

Thankfully, karma intervenes and she doesn’t harm him. Instead, she activates his chopstick dispenser and she’s taken down by a chopstick to the forehead.

This is rather fitting since, she’s been stopped by an item she would find important, chopsticks which along with spoons facilitate one of her loves - food. And with that she is delivered to Tsurumi who praises Nikaido.

The next page is when things get really interesting. Nikaido is upset that Sugimoto is alive and Tsurumi blows him off. Very rough looking Tsukishima and Koito then make it to Tsurumi to see that Asirpa has been caught. Likely on autopilot, Tsukishima starts speaking . . . but Koito then continues and reports to him as the commanding officer of the two.

He then mid-explaination becomes incredibly uncomfortable unable to speak. We can’t see Tsurumi’s facial expression, it would be nice to know what Koito sees as he only awkwardly ends stating they were in the brewery.

Koito is sweating profusely, whatever Tsurumi looked like, he just realized that he should have let Tsukishima do the talking as he’s given away that his fear of speaking to Tsurumi is gone. The fact that Tsurumi hesitates before telling him that he understands, leaves Koito in shock as Tsukishima is likely trying to not lose it with him. Since he now knows that Koito has given away something about his changed status towards Tsurumi. Since Tsurumi is in the realm of super smart villain, I’d guess Tsukishima knows that Tsurumi knows about how Koito learned something about his kidnapping which was what lead to his in ability to speak to him in the first place. Recall, that when they were in Kagoshima, young Koito could speak to Tsurumi with little issue.

Tsurumi then calls for a retreat and avoid any more fights. Apparently, he now has enough information to crack the code. Okay Tsurumi - does this mean you can do so with Asirpa? Since, he still doesn’t know the Ainu name that is matches with. . . .

Nikaido pouts in the background as Koito looks like he wants to fade into the background. Tsukishima clearly doesn’t look happy either as he holds Asirpa. I guess being Tsurumi’s right hand man means he gets to hold onto her?

He likely feels uncomfortable about things since now that Koito has let the cat out of the bag, Tsurumi will likely ask him about what happened between them.

Boutarou exits, pissed off at how he lost Asirpa but seems to be alright overall. Of course, the next page reveals Sugimoto charging towards him to give Asirpa back. Yep, attack first, ask questions later/maybe Sugimoto.

Sugimoto pretty much has murder eyes as he thinks attacking Boutarou will solve his problem.

Now, the fact that Boutarou has survived this well, tells me that he likely has the same ‘luck’ that Sugimoto has. He was stabbed by Sugimoto, his ear cut off, slashed by Koito, and shot twice by Tsukishima. It is pretty damn obvious that Boutarou is to be both a foil and a twin to Sugimoto. The only difference between them is Boutarou became a criminal, while Sugimoto became a soldier a man with a license to kill under the laws of the government while enlisted in the army. Since leaving the army, he’s killed many people in the quest for the gold, but that doesn’t make him a ‘good guy’ because he’s a former soldier.

Sugimoto is always trying to tell others how he’s better than they are. He’s better than the convicts because he didn’t break the law. But, if we look at his own actions, he may have been worse than some of the convicts having killed more people than they did. Think of Shiraishi or Nihei. Nihei killed those hunters, but he refused to go off to war and lost his son in the Sino-Japanese war. Therefore, we could argue that based on the number of people killed, Sugimoto is far worse than Nihei as he was almost karmic in his revenge. Furthermore, Nihei even let himself be arrested, he killed the one man but didn’t even fight the police as his revenge was complete and he accepted his fate.

What I’m getting to is that Boutarou is the character who is going to disrupt Sugimoto and make him very uncomfortable and be unable to keep acting like he’s on the ‘right’ side of things. Sugimoto needs to stop othering the convicts and tell himself he’s better than all of them - his own decisions led him to this just like something drove Boutarou to become a pirate and criminal.

I predict that Shiraishi will rush in to stop Sugimoto from killing Boutarou. We still need to learn more about their past and what is the full connection between Shiraishi and Boutarou. There is much more to learn, Shiraishi is too open and frank with him and he lets Boutarou get close to him physically and emotionally.

Hijikata’s group then regroups and decides what to do. Of course Hijikata being the manly man that he is, states he’ll enter if required.

Kirawus then begins to panic that that no one has seen Kadokura. Apparently shooting off the firework was too distracting for him and he didn’t keep track of his drinking buddy. What were you doing man? Where were you? You aren’t very good at these sorts of things?

Kadokura apologizes to Hijikata for failing to stick with him to the end as he lie on the floor of the room with the mash pots. We see Kirawus at his most emotional as he cries out and Kantarou holds him back.

Is Kirawus a softy at heart? I was predicting that he’d have gone in to save him but no, we get a demonstration of Kadokura’s good bad luck as the collapsing building makes a bed for him, tucks him into the futon and even gives him a beer to enjoy.

I personally like this use of extremely unlikely events surrounding him. Sometimes, I find some of the more crass humor in GK to be not my cup of tea, but this sort of absurdist humor is good. For a very action and emotionally charged chapter this is a good resolution of the tension.

Kadokura is rewarded for trying his best by being rescued by the building. Yep, he’s certainly more competent than he appears. Is he the secret weapon of team Hijikata?

Conclusions on these chapters.

As I stated in the title, things are pretty predictable, but rewarding for the readers at least.

Asirpa has shown that when she loses her cool, she leads to her own capture. Separated from Sugimoto, she makes many poor decisions. She tries to leave Koito to be killed by Boutarou. She attacks Tsukishima and Nikaido. She tried to use the poison arrow on Kikuta. As a character who started out with a strong do no harm to other humans, she’s quickly sliding into grey. I think the worst part was almost ignoring Koito. She is hesitant to tell Tsukishima what happened and uses his pause to try to attack him.

Her capture is the worst outcome of events. She should have listened to Kikuta and found another solution. She could have just let Boutarou escape with her and bide her time. It seems that her reckless and aggressive behavior has backfired. Sure, some readers will be like ‘She was just defending herself!’ but without her arrows, she is at a huge disadvantage and should know when to give up. I’m pretty sure that this mindset comes from her being with Sugimoto.

Boutarou will team up with Sugimoto with Shiraishi as the mediator. ‘Cause it is obvious.

Koito is freaked out that he gave away his personal growth, Nikaido is stewing in the background and Tsukishma just looks guilty.

Hijikata’s group will likely retreat with Kadokura leaving Shiraishi, Boutarou, and Sugimoto behind. Since other than Shiraishi, the other two men are just annoyances to Hijikata.

Ogata is somewhere. Is he going to continue his sniper battle or will he retreat? He seemed pretty chill when he walked by Kikuta. The smoke and fire and chaos will really mess with things, but Vasily is likely losing his cool.

Vasily, the character who had potential but currently is lame may be waiting for Ogata? Or maybe he could pull back?

Lastly, where is Kikuta? Does he know that Ogata shot Usami? I can’t help but seeing him stroll into the headquarters of the 27th and be like “Hey everyone. What did I miss?” [as he strikes a sexy pose and lights a cigarette].

It would be neat to learn if they at least chatted about something.

Well that is all for now. Let’s see how the insanity continues to unfold.

#golden kamuy #golden kamuy meta #asirpa #koito otonoshin #tsukishima hajime #tsurumi tokushirou #nikaido #sugimoto saichi #boutarou the pirate #Shiraishi Yoshitake #warrant officer kikuta #kadokura #kirawus #hijikata toshizo

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acourtofsnakes · 4 years

Text

Arir - Rogue, Chapter 2| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (F)

Summary: After giving up, you and the Mandalorian go back to his ship, travelling out of Sorgan and back into space. It’s a long trip through hyperspace... there’s only so long you can ignore each other for. The differences between you and your hidden secret might cause clashes.. but when the time comes, will you act? Or not?

Warnings: swearing, injury detail, mentions of death/war etc, degradation (not in a nice way), flirtation/suggestive themes and the such? Let me know if I’ve forgotten anything.

AN: Thank you all for the love on the first chapter!! Let me know if you want to be added to/removed from the taglist!!

As always, credit to whoever owns the gif. I usually find them on Google or Pinterest, so message me if it’s yours ♥︎

Word count: 6789

Also, the planet in which we visit here is the unnamed industrial planet from Season 2, Episode 1 with the creatures that like the dark.

Rogue Taglist: @snipskixandbeskar @weirdowithnobeardo

Mando’a Translation: Arir - To act

You swam around in hazy darkness for a while, in no rush to wake up. You were free from pain here, free from running, and from being hunted. It was… peaceful. You liked it here.

Unfortunately, this is your life. And you don’t have such good luck. Noise began to filter through the haze in your mind, the beeping of machinery and the muffled whir of engines.

You groaned softly, your head feeling like it was full of rocks as you forced open your eyes, blinking a few times. You looked around, seeing a holding area on what appeared to be the inside of a ship.

You were seated on the floor, the cold metal seeping through your trousers and as you pulled yourself up more comfortably, you found that your hands were cuffed to a metal pipe on the wall of the ship.

Opposite you, was a huge bank of… solid hunks of something, what looked like the bodies and faces of people and creatures stick in them. You frowned, squinting in the low light and then you realised that they were. Humans, creatures big and small, all trapped screaming in carbonite.

Brilliant.

Maybe the fact you were supposedly such a high bounty would keep you far away from being trapped in that.

Resting your head back, you stared at a spot in the corner of the room, just thinking. It took you a while, but you suddenly realised that your shoulder had been bound. It still hurt so much, but the wrappings around it kept it somewhat stable.

Interesting. The Mandalorian had wrapped your wounds before cuffing you in this holding cell of his ship.

It might have been hours later, but you were awoken from a light doze by boots thudding softly down the hall and then the Mandalorian was walking over, stopping in front of you, “Wake up.” He nudged your feet with his own, earning a groan from you.

“Don’t you know it’s rude to wake someone up when they’re asleep?” You glared at him, tilting your head back to look up at the impassive expression of the helmet.

He replied easily without missing a beat, “Don’t you know it’s rude to call someone heartless when you don’t even know who they are?”

You smiled slowly, dropping your eyelids to half-mast, “Uncuff me and we can get to know each other just fine, tin can.”

The eye roll was practically audible, but he knelt down, moving close to you as he reached for your wrist, “I was thinking we could keep the cuffs on.”

Maker, the way his voice dropped, that rasp coming through the modulator, his scent washed over you, smoke, metal and something else, something citrusy almost.

You swallowed, having not expected him to play back so quickly, thrown off.

He snickered, actually laughing as he undid the cuffs, snapping them back over your wrists, “You set yourself up for that one, sweetheart.” His voice betrayed the smirk that was clearly under the beskar as he pulled you to your feet. He pulled you past the carbonite chamber, round the corner and through the ship until you got to a ladder, “Go on.”

You looked up, then over your shoulder at him, “You want me to climb a ladder with my hands cuffed?” You raised your eyebrow, well aware of your own skill to be able to do so. After all, you’d been cuffed and still escaped with your wrists bound so many times, you’d lost count. Didn’t mean you couldn’t poke him a little.

Your protest was met with a tilt of his helmet, his voice dripping in false sweetness, “I saw you run across the canopy of a tree like you were flying. I think you’ll be able to manage this, princess.” He just stood there, watching you, one hand resting on his hip.

A few seconds passed, but you turned, giving in and climbing the ladder, resting your wrists on the rung above for balance. Maybe throwing a little extra sway into your hips as you rose up into what appeared to be a cockpit. Climbing out was a little difficult, the tin can below making no effort to help you.

When you got back to your feet, you looked around. It was cosy up here, two seats, big open windows that gave you a view to the outside, the stars blinking around the ship, scattered across the never-ending blackness.

The lights inside flickered on and off, instruments making soft beeps now and then. Resting to the side, was a metal sphere, sort of hovering there gently. That must be the Child, nestled inside, sleeping safely. And on top…

Duru.

Curled up with her nose tucked under her leg, her tail swishing gently.

You made a soft noise, taking a step toward her because you had been convinced that she was gone, deep in the forest.

The Mandalorian’s voice came from behind you suddenly, “By the time I’d carried you back to the ship, she was already at my feet. Lucky I have armour. Your little friend has a hell of a set of claws on her. I can see why she likes you.”

Something warm stirred in your chest as you beheld her sleeping form. She’d come back to you, tried to defend you. It warmed you so much, that you didn’t protest as the Mandalorian tugged you to the other chair, unbinding your wrists and instead attaching each one to either arm of the chair. He then settled into the pilots’ seat, leaning back, his legs spread naturally, and his arms crossed over his stupidly broad chest.

And just looked at you.

You blinked, shifting in your seat as you gazed back at him, raising an eyebrow faintly, “What?”

Nothing. He said nothing. Just kept looking at you. It was like you could feel his eyes running over you, burning into your skin and turning you inside out.

The seconds ticked by, minutes maybe and you started to get uncomfortable. “If you’re trying to undress me with your eyes, it’s not working.”

His arms relaxed, his hands coming to rest on his thighs, “I’m trying to work it out.”

You frowned in confusion, “Work what out?”

A tilt of the head, “Why your bounty is so high. You mess with the wrong people?”

You rolled your eyes, “No. I thought you didn’t care? I was just a bounty to you?”

He ignored you, maybe made a tiny huff, but still kept his head tilted, “Kill someone?”

You leant back in the chair, swinging it from side to side gently, “I think we covered that base already, tin can.”

“You steal something?”

“Only your heart.” You smiled an overly sweet smile, fluttering your eyelashes at him. “Not even close.”

A thoughtful noise filtered through the modulator, “High class runaway bride from an arranged marriage?”

You stared at him, blinking once and then you burst out laughing, “Yeah, sure. I was engaged to a member of one of the Elder Houses. It was the night before my wedding and I couldn’t take it, so I ran away with all my upper class Lady-ness” You still laughed, shaking your head, “I thought you were supposed to be smart. You really think I’m of noble heritage and class?”

Mandalorian shrugged carelessly, “You’re self-righteous enough.”

“I’d rather be self-righteous than a pretentious asshole like you.”

“Did I say there was a difference?” He still faced you, assessing you. It made your skin prickle and you weren’t sure if it was entirely with discomfort.

“Did you get in with the wrong people? Make some bad friends?” Something occurred to him, something you said during your fight, “Are you a Jedi?”

Too far.

You stared at him, eyes suddenly like ice, “Stop. I’m not telling you, so stop asking.” Way too far.

“What is it? It must be something bad, I’ve seen the list that came before me, and who employed them. Only someone to do with the Jedi would pull in that much of a bounty so y-“

You cut across him, the playfulness dropping from your voice and leaving it dripping with cold fire, a stirring deep within you, a whisper of power. “Enough. I am nothing to you but your bounty, remember? Drop it.”

Before he could even form the words, his sniping protest was cut off by Duru awakening with a chitter, springing into your lap and then climbing up around your shoulders. Seconds later, the cradle opened, and its little green inhabitant sat up with a coo, looking straight at you.

Stars above, he was adorable.

Your lips melted back into a grin as you beheld his sort of wrinkled green face, large glossy black eyes blinking at you and the most adorable floppy bat ears. You laughed a little, “well, I can see why you went rogue for him. He’s the sweetest little thing.” You tilted your head, cooing back at him, “Hi, sweetie, look at you…”

The Mandalorian spun round, pressing a button on his wrist and the sphere snapped shut suddenly, “Don’t touch him. Or look at him. Leave him alone.”

You shifted a look of disbelief at him, eyebrows raised, “What, because I might hurt him by being strapped to a chair? Well done, Mando, you got it. I’m being hunted by so many people because I take one look at wrinkly, green babies and they die.” You threw your eyes up toward the ceiling yet again, this time with a noise of incredulity.

“Stop rolling your eyes at me.” His snarl both brought a shit-eating grin to your lips and made your toes curl. You chose to ignore the latter.

You laughed, still grinning as you leant forward as much as your bonds would allow, “Why, does it turn you on?”

You were rewarded with a growl this time and he turned his chair round to face the front of the ship, so quickly you were surprised he didn’t come full circle and face you again.

The seething silence was broken by a soft shwoomp and the cradle opened once more. The Child sat back up, looking at you with a tilted head like his father, those big bat ears lifting.

You lifted your fingers, wiggling them at him in a silent hello, earning yourself a delighted gurgle. Sweet little thing. The wall of beskar in front of you clearly had a soft heart underneath all that armour.

You leant back in the chair, pondering that for a little while, Duru’s tail hanging over your chest and brushing your forearm every now and then. The darkness outside the walls of the ship, the muffled hum of the engine and the occasional beeps of machinery provided a soft ambience that had your eyelids starting to droop. You hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in… forever. At least here, in the Razor Crest, there was some level of safety, enough that you could allow yourself to relax.

No!! Stop! You are in a ship, piloted by the rogue Mandalorian who is taking you back to Maker knows where for a large sum of money!

Wake. Up!

Your head jerked up and you shook it, trying to clear the sleepy haze from it. Maybe you should ask for a medic. Your judgement seemed to be failing you rather a lot lately.

Casting your eyes around, you looked for something to talk about, anything to keep yourself awake. You landed on Grogu’s crib again. “So… you’re really just... doing this on your own?”

Curiosity clearly got the better of him, because his voice filtered out through the helmet, that arrogant tone edging his words, “Do you see anyone else with me?”

You made a thoughtful noise, “I mean… keeping an eye out for people chasing you, taking jobs and hunting… all whilst looking after the kid at the same time… Aren’t you tired?”

“Don’t these kinds of questions come after we’ve known each other more than 6 hours?” He sounded bored, but you didn’t fail to notice the way his hand tightened on the controls.

Clearly you were hitting a nerve. And you weren’t going to let it drop, “But going to all these planets, doing what you do… not knowing who to trust…”

“Enough. Stop talking, if you can manage that.” That word was an order, your own word thrown right back at you in a low, gritted tone.

You raised an eyebrow at him – well, the back of his head, “You’re the one that brought me up here. You could have left me shackled to the pipes downstairs and saved yourself the annoyance.”

Mandalorian made a noise of what could have been frustration or regret at that decision, “I brought you up here so I could keep an eye on you. I don’t trust you down there.”

Now that brought a smirk to your lips, “You think I could have gotten out.” It wasn’t a question. “Afraid I’ll find your weapons and slit your throat?”

The ship glided easily through the vast openness of stars and darkness, falling around you like you were the only people in the galaxy.

He snorted, “Please don’t flatter yourself, sweetheart. The day you can do that is the day the stars implode.”

You rolled your eyes at the back of his head, resting your cheek against Duru’s tail. Dick.

Movement caught your eye and Mando turned to face you, his hands on his thighs after seemingly putting the ship on autopilot, “I thought I told you not to roll your eyes at me.”

Without missing a beat, you replied, “I thought I asked if it turned you on. You never answered.”

You could almost hear the smirk in his voice, “And if it does?” That rasp had dropped, caressing your bones, sliding over them with a dark whisper. He had leant forward in his chair, hands sliding down his thighs and you couldn’t help but look at them, the way they spread over the amour plates. Fuck.

You shifted your eyes back up to him, willing your cheeks not to flush with the unbidden thoughts “I thought I was nothing more than a bounty to you?” You raised an eyebrow, fingers tapping on the arms of the chair. You were only his bounty… so... why this flirting?

Mandalorian laughs, as if sensing your thoughts, “Relax, I’m just playing with you.” He shrugged easily, “I brought you up here because…” He hesitated, immediately piquing your curiosity.

“Because?”

He almost sighed a little bit, “Because you gave in. Usually, they only give in when they know they’re dead. They give in because they think I’ll let them go. But with you…” He tilted his head a little, ”I could tell it wasn’t that.”

Your eyes flickered over his helmet, debating whether or not to talk to this man. He was here on the request and money of someone who wanted you. But… it had been so long since you had someone to talk to… And your instincts weren’t screaming at you that this man was dangerous. In fact, they were oddly silent. “I gave up because… you were right. So many people have died because of me. Whether they were people that I knew, or people that were… collateral damage. I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone else dying for me. It makes me sick; I hate myself for it. Even if I had gotten away from you, it wouldn’t have mattered.”

Mando’s voice was almost… soft, “Why not?”

You swallowed, just knowing he must have seen it, “Because even though you gave me a choice… to give in or be dragged in dead... someone else would have come after me. Someone else who no doubt wouldn’t have given me that choice. And… I’m just tired.” You hated the way your voice broke on that last word, hated that you’d just revealed all of that to a Mandalorian of all people. But it had happened anyway. No more. No more talking.

He stayed looking at you for a long while, perhaps debating whether to say something. He just nodded very slightly, and then turned back to the controls.

The next few hours slipped past… easily. You spent some of it in silence, some if in just absent conversation, as if he wasn’t a Mandalorian and you weren’t a bounty handcuffed to a chair.

He took you to another part of the ship when night rolled around – not that you’d know with the endless stars, but you supposed he had an internal body clock that ran a routine. It was a sort of storage room, cramped with boxes but it was warm and quiet, just the hum of the engines. Upon arrival, you’d noticed that he’d cleared a space in the corner, laid some blankets out.

You hadn’t been able to help expressing your surprise, “No wonder you have such a high success rate. This is luxury compared to what some of us bounties live in.”

He’d shrugged again, but something about the way he held his body and his voice had sounded… bashful? “There’s not many sleeping spaces in the ship and… you’re not a murderer or a criminal so…” He shrugged, almost floundering, “As far as I know. I just… thought it might be more comfortable. Besides, I couldn’t leave you in the cockpit, who knows if you’d get that cat of yours to do something.“

“Mando. Thank you.” You had cut him off before he dug himself a deeper hole, the atmosphere becoming a little odd. He had let you lie down – then re-cuffed one of your wrists to the wall, and then went on his way.

Sleep came quickly that night, exhaustion weighing your lips down again but not before you’d sat and pondering the last 4 hours in your head. You’d said more to him about yourself than you had anyone in… years. Weird. Best not dwell on it.

A soft cry woke you what seemed like minutes later, echoing down from the belly of the ship. You sat up, awkwardly, one hand still attached to the wall, ears pricked and listening. It came again, a pitiful cry that you realised was the Child, who had seemingly woken up in the night. You listened for a while, waiting to hear if Mando came but he didn’t.

You couldn’t just leave the Child to cry… what if he’d had a bad nightmare?

Looking at the cuff on your wrist thoughtfully, you reached into your hair, braided back. He clearly hadn’t noticed, but you kept long pins in your hair, the pretence of keeping wisps back from your face. Really though, they were a weapon, specially crafted pins with sharp ends that would hurt an incredible amount if jammed into someone’s eye. They also came in pretty handy as lock picks and you’d used them on more than one occasion to get out of cuffs.

They were one of your most prized belongings. And they would come in perfectly handy right now.

Within seconds, you were free, padding down the hall quietly as you made your way up to the next level, following the crying.

You’d located his little compartment not long later and it opened at your touch.

Inside, bundled in soft rags and blankets, was Grogu. He was sitting up, his big bat ears hanging down and cries emanating from such a tiny body, straight to your heart.

You pouted a little, reaching in and gently picking him up, “Hey… none of that, little one. What’s wrong?” You held him against your hip, instinct taking over and you began to rock gently, your hand lifting to stroke his floppy ears.

Grogu cried still, little stubby hands curling into fists in your cloak as you rocked him. Maybe he’d had a bad dream after all?

You thought back, trying to remember when you were young, scared or upset and what your mother would sing to you. You looked down at the Child, the words coming back easily and then you began to sing, softly. At the same time, you began walking up and down in front of his compartment, adding a gentle rock still to give him a reassuring movement.

Almost at once, his cries stopped, instead turning to sniffly gasps of air and he tilted his head curiously at you, perhaps wondering what you were doing.

As if you could understand him somehow, you smiled around the lyrics of the song, just a lullaby your mother always used to coax you back to sleep.

It took you five repetitions of the song, countless steps up and down but finally, finally his little green head slumped against your chest, his breathing slowing and ears relaxing.

You let out a soft breath of relief, singing the song so quietly now, keeping up your routine just to make sure the kid stayed out.

Unfortunately, other people didn’t seem to share that idea and footsteps came clanging down the hall, running. At once, Mando’s voice appeared before he did, “Leave him alone, whatever you are doing, put him down. You will NOT hurt him, I’ll-“ He rounded the corner, armour on and blaster raised.

“Shhhh!” You glared at him, cradling the back of the Child’s head and you hissed at the Mandalorian, “Do you want him to wake back up?! It’s taken me 20 minutes to get him to go back to sleep. If you wake him up, I will put you in the refresher until your precious armour rusts.”

He made a noise, his blaster still hovering in the air, “It’s beskar. It can’t rust. And you weren’t where I left you, your cuffs were on the floor and I couldn’t hear Grogu.”

He checked on you? Choosing to ignore that bit, you merely raised your eyebrows at him, “So you assumed… what? That I was hurting him?” You made a noise of disbelief, “Relax, tin can, it’s past midnight. I won’t turn into a child eating monster until tomorrow.” You shook your head, turning your back on him as you rocked Grogu again, walking back to the compartment.

His footsteps sounded from behind you, following you like a ghost, “You got him to sleep?”

You carefully disentangled Grogu from your cloak, placing him back inside his little nest. “Yes.” The word was clipped as you made sure he was tucked in warm and safe, shut the compartment and then turned to look at Mando, starting a little when you saw just how close he was to you and so you crossed your arms.

His helmet was tilted down to look at you and he slowly put the blaster away, “It usually takes me a lot longer to get him down.” His voice was quiet as he admitted this to you, “What was that you were singing to him? I heard you just before…”

You flicked your eyes over the visor of his helmet, wondering if you’d tell him. There was no harm in it, your mother was gone. It wouldn’t hurt her, “It’s a lullaby that my mother used to sing for me.”

He nodded a little after a second or two, “It sounded beautiful. Thank you… for seeing to him.”

You mimicked his nod, loosening your arms to your sides, “You don’t need to worry, Mandalorian. I’m not going to hurt him. Or you. So you can stop acting like I’m a monster.” Please. It’s bad enough that I think that about myself. I don’t need another person thinking it too.

He stepped back, but his voice was soft when he next spoke, “I’m sorry. I know… It’s just instinct. You know, with the kid.” He gestured toward where Grogu now slept and his helmet lingered toward you before he turned and went back to wherever he came from, allowing you to go back to your space unattended. Clearly proving that he believed you.

It left you confused, this hot and cold behaviour, the lingering atmosphere.

The next day, the Mandalorian informed you that he was picking up another bounty on the way to wherever he was taking you. It wouldn’t take long, just a quick stop on a small industrial planet and then you’d be back on your way.

You merely nodded, keeping quiet today after revealing so much yesterday.

He left you to your own devices, brining you up to the cockpit with him again, but not cuffing you this time. Like he trusted you not to kill him.

The day passed with little to no action, just travelling and idle chitchat and then you were back staring at the ceiling in your little nest before you knew it.

Sleep must have taken you at some point, because when you woke up, the hum of the engines was silent. You figured you’d landed at this planet, so you got up, Duru back on your shoulders and went to look for Mando.

He wasn’t in the cockpit when you went up, but Grogu was in his cradle, so he can’t be far.

A quick tour of the ship revealed nothing. Except that as you passed, you noticed the ramp was open, unguarded which was… odd. He wouldn’t just leave it open. You were a bounty, and he had a child that liked to explore. Maybe you’d just missed him somewhere.

You examined every inch of the ship twice more but… he just wasn’t there. All your search turned up was the weapons cabinet which he had seemingly left unlocked. It was extensive, holding many knives and daggers, blasters, grenades of different types and some things you’d never seen before. Impressive. Your bow wasn’t there, but your vibroblade was, so after a moment’s hesitation, you’d slipped it back into the sheath on your thigh.

Your footsteps seemed far too loud as you crept back toward the open ramp of the ship. Something wasn’t right.

Weapons cabinet unlocked. Grogu unguarded. Your cuffs left off and the ramp open. Had something happened to him?

Unless… unless this was a trap, and he’d done it on purpose.

Why would he be setting a trap? Where would I run to even if I did escape? He said he’d trusted me and he left me uncuffed.

A frown fell on your face as you reached the top of the ramp, staring into the empty street beyond.

There was no sign of him. No sign of anyone, actually. The street was almost pitch black, pockets of light beneath streetlamps providing the only clues to where you were. Jagged structures were silhouetted from the light, structures that look like metal, sharp edges and hard landscaping. Must be some kind of industrial planet. And where the light from lamps or buildings didn’t reach… were those red eyes glowing in the dark? Nevermind. It seemed clear. So… do you go?

You bit your lip, fiddling with the edge of your cloak, booted foot tapping on the metal ramp. If he hadn’t done this to purposefully trap… you could escape. Wouldn’t have to face whatever was coming for you. You could back out of the decision you made back on Sorgan.

Something made you glance back, up at the ceiling where you knew Grogu’s crib sat in the cockpit. He’d be fine. He was safe in there. The ramp would probably close when you left it anyway.

You made a soft noise of annoyance at yourself, at your hesitation. Yes, you’d given up on Sorgan, but maybe you were a little hasty in that department. No matter. Time to go.

You squared your shoulders, lifting your cloak so it covered your head and Duru’s body around your shoulders and began to make your way down the ramp and into the quiet street. The air was a little chilly, smelling like oil, smoke and metal.

In the distance, you could hear rumbling, fighting almost. People came from the distance, rough looking people. Different species, some more humanoid with tails or claws, others straight up… monsters.

Okay… so maybe you should get off of this planet as soon as you could.

As you walked, you couldn’t help but notice the few people that were lingering about were sticking to the bubbles of light on the floor or coming from windows. If they had to cross through shadow and darkness, they ran through it quickly, really quickly.

Maybe you were right about the eyes in the dark.

A noise to your left caught your attention, a soft whine of a noise coming from a dark corner. You slowed down, something snagging at you. It sounded like… something was in pain. Something was hurt. You tilted your head, feeling Duru’s warm breath in your ear, wondering if you should help.

Another pitiful whimper rose from the darkness and had you walking over, stepping out of the light and into the shadow of the street. You looked around, blinking to get your eyes adjusted, looking for the source of the whimpers. You reached out, feeling for the edge of the building that shoulder be somewhere around here, but instead of feeling hard metal, you felt… flesh.

Flesh?

Yes. Warm, scaled, wet flesh. Something sticky dripped onto your hand, a low snarl coming above your head, and in your mind, you had a flash of some great, terrible creature, with those glowing red eyes, a mouthful of sharp teeth, dripping with blood-

Duru hissed, a warning yowl coming from her chest, her claws digging into your shoulder.

That decided it.

You bolted, turning around and practically flying back into the light, toward the little bubbles of sanctuary and it occurred to you, that you probably looked as crazy as the other villagers.

Okaaay, maybe definitely NOT the best idea to leave the Razor Crest.

A shudder licked down your spine and you began to walk again, making sure to keep in the pools of light on the floor. You were at a bit of a loss. Do you go back to the ship? Or carry on going?

Today was just full of decisions wasn’t it.

You kept walking, aiming for the building just ahead that looked like a cantina, when a metallic thud resounded in the alley way next to you. You kept your eyes planted firmly ahead, ignoring it. No more going into dark alleyways, especially not here.

A familiar, raspy voice broke the silence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re wrong.”

Ah. Mando. So that’s where he was. No matter. Let him have a fight in an alleyway. He’d win anyway, obviously.

You shook your head, looking toward the cantina again but… it seemed your feet had decided to stop obeying your head. You were moving, but toward the edge of the alleyway, hiding against the corner and peering around the wall.

The Mandalorian was being pinned against a wall by a guy just as tall as him, human looking except for the long tail that rose from behind him, black and scaly and ending in a sharp looking barb that made your skin crawl.

“Liar.” The snarl was punctuated with the sound of Spikey pulling a knife from his thigh, shrill where he dragged it over the beskar- “There’s no one else around, Mandalorian so tell me. Now. Where. Is. She?” Each word was accentuated with a punch. “You’ve got her trussed up on that ship of yours? Give her to me.”

An uncomfortable feeling began to creep over you, like you knew what they were talking about.

Mando grunted in pain again, his voice taut, “Get it through that thick skull of yours. I don’t have her.” He lifted his arm, clearly about to burn this creep.

Too slow. What was wrong with him?

The guy with the spikey tail grabbed Mando’s wrist and slammed it against the wall next to his head. “I know you have her. You had her fob in your pocket. She’s on your ship.”

Because of you. He was getting beaten because of you. Why wasn’t he giving you up? Did he really want the money over your head that badly? What was wrong with him? He always wins… why wasn’t he winning? You frowned, peering further around the alleyway and then it dawned on you.

Blood. Coating the armour of his knee, turning the metal slick and shiny red. It must have been bad, he looked like he could barely keep his weight on it.

Spikey Tail laughed suddenly, leaning in close and kicking Mando’s leg, earning another gritted cry, “Oooh, you freak. You wanna keep her don’t you? Gonna turn her into a toy to keep you entertained on your travels? Must get lonely on that ship, I don’t blame you. She looked like she’d be a good little slu-“

His words were cut short, Mando’s free hand jamming into the guys throat, squeezing and choking off his air.

You saw the mistake just before the Mandalorian seemed to realise it himself. He’d left his side exposed, open to attack.

This was bad. This was really, really bad. You didn’t know why he was defending you, but he was. And because of it -

A raspy, choked groan of pain brought you back to the present.

The guy with the spikey tail had seen the opening, jamming his knife in Mando’s side behind the armour plates, a cruel, long serrated blade. Spikey’s face lit up when he heard the noise of pain coming from the other man, and with a chilling laugh, he twisted the knife, pushing it in deeper to the hilt.

Instinct took over and suddenly you were running down the alleyway, barely feeling Duru scramble down your body and run toward Mando. You were too busy careening straight into Spikey’s side. The force of your run and surprise allowed you to knock him back, away from Mando and land a sharp kick to his rib. You quickly sent a punch to his face, feeling a tooth knock loose before hands game up and pushed you back, toward the shadows at the edges of the alleyway.

“Hey! What do you think you’re doing, bitch?!” Spikey’s tail flicked in annoyance as he moved back into the light, as if the darkness burned. Or bit.

As he came forward, his bloody face split into another grin as he recognised you, “Oh. So, he DID have you after all. I thought you’d be strung to a bed, laying all pretty and open for him to get back.”

A noise of disgust came from your throat, “What the fuck is wrong with this planet?” You leapt for him again, a swift uppercut to his jaw, and then into his throat. “Go crawl back into whatever hole you came out of.”

Spikey Tail snarled, his head jerking forward and connecting with yours with a force that had stars bursting in your eyes. The distraction cost you a foot in your ribs and you swore you heard one of them crack. “Slut. I’m going to break you like I did your friend here and then get that bounty. Might even ask if I could keep you.”

You shook the haze from your head, trying to draw him away from the Mandalorian, “You talk way too much for being in a fight.” You lifted your fists, ignoring the screaming pain in your side, every breath you took. Feeling like shards of glass.

A noise, almost like a snort came from the semi-conscious beskar-clad man behind you. It seemed he was thinking back to your fight on Sorgan.

You looked over your shoulder at him, raising your eyebrows but then, before you could answer, a hand was around your throat and you were thrown up against the wall. Quite literally, your feet dangled a few inches above the ground, held up by whatever freak strength Spikey Tail had.

“You fight hard. But you’re weak. I don’t know who they sent after you before, but they were incompetent. Even the famous Mandalorian couldn’t bring you in.” His hand tightened around your throat, making the already difficult task of breathing become even harder. “I never fancied myself a bounty hunter, but maybe I’ll change my mind once I get my hands on that big fat reward over your head” He leant in and the stench of rotten meat and stale alcohol washed over you, making you gag.

He laughed, and his tail came up and round him, the barb on the end dragging over your cheek and feeling like a lick of fire, “And then I’ll get my hands on you.” He looked down at you, as if he could see beneath your clothes, his eyes becoming glazed in a way that had your blood running cold, “I bet you feel so good. Imagine all of the things I could do to a little slut like you. The pretty noises you’d make for me.” His head tilted back up, coming closer to yours as he dropped his gaze to your lips.

You struggled, gasping for air as you felt your head swim, scrambling for your knife.

Your power, use your power. Just use it, get him away, kill him, choke him. Just get him away from you and Mando-

A blast echoed in the alleyway, and Spikey grunted in pain, slumping forward slightly. You saw your opening, finally grasping slick fingers on the hilt of your blade and you yanked it free of your thigh, swinging it up and jamming it into his neck.

He let go of you and went down instantly as you severed the arteries in his throat, spraying you with hot blood.

You collapsed to your knees, pushing his body away as you began coughing, working air into your protesting lungs. Nausea washed over you as the movement jolted your ribs, making you realise there had to be more than one broken.

You lifted your head, eyes searching and then you found him.

Slumped on the floor, head tilted to the side resting on his shoulder like it was too heavy to keep up, facing you. Movement had your gaze dropping as his hand fell to the floor, holding his blaster.

He’d shot Spikey, he’d… saved your life? Just like you’d saved his..

You stared at the Mandalorian for a moment, panting as you still tried to breathe, your knife still in your hand dripping blood. Suddenly, you let go of it and you were crawling across the floor to him, your hands knocking his out of the way and pushing against the wound, trying to staunch the flow of blood.

Wait. What were you doing?

You blinked, looking down at your hands, then back up at his helmet. You could see your expression reflected in the visor. Your eyes were a little wide, a spray of blood on your face from the man you just killed, for the one who’s life you were trying to keep in his body. Your neck was ringed in red, the cut on your cheek bleeding slowly.

Run. Leave him and run.

He looked back up at you, slumped on the ground, one blood-soaked hand on his chest where you had pushed it away from his wound.

Leave him. He’s only going to turn you in. RUN.

Your hands began to lift, but then stopped, hesitating and then returning as fresh, hot blood ran down his side. No. You couldn’t leave him here.

Yes. You should. He doesn’t have any hope in getting up and coming after you. Find the fob, destroy it and get out of here. He means nothing to you and you mean nothing to him. You are prey and he is the hunter.

But… he’d saved you… and you had saved him. He trusted you.

You swallowed, your mind a frenzy of reasons, choices, trying to figure out what to do. Your survival instinct was screaming at you, run, run, run, but… Look at him. You could hear the jagged breaths coming through the helmet, static crackling through the modulator.

His attacker was already turning cold behind you, killed by your hand as easy as drawing a breath. You had saved the Mandalorian and now, he lay dying in front of you. If you ran, he would bleed out in a couple of hours, dumped in some back alley. His life was in your hands, literally, warm and wet and coming far too quickly.

This had to be clear on your face, in your eyes as you debated whether to safe yourself or him. Be brave or a coward. Act or run.

A soft noise crackled through his helmet, and you looked back up at him, but he said nothing. No sniping comments about being a coward, no pleas to save his life. Nothing. Silence. Letting you decide his fate as if deciding what to have for dinner.

So… what should you do?

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#the mandalorian x force sensitive! reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x force sensitive! reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #grogu #star wars #the child #the force #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader

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honey-hippie-harper · 4 years

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Before Gatlon Falls (Re-upload)

This was @alecjamesartino ‘s birthday gift! <3 and it’s basically the night before Ace destroyed Gatlon city x’DDDDDD Because that thing was awful but I’m really interested in how it happened :) and to this day I still like to think she is, too, and that she liked this gift and wasn’t pretending :3

Also, writing about the young Anarchist is pretty fun.

Tag list (tell me if you want to be in or out): @healing-winston-pratt @obsidianfr3sk @nodrianbcyes @alecjamesartino @everyone-has-a-nightmare @razzmooncake

Before Gatlon Falls

Honey Harper’s couch had always been uncomfortable, ever since Leroy had moved in with her when he dropped out from college, but it’s not like he had any other place to go.

It’s not like he could complain, either.

Some nights were worse than others.

This one was particularly bad, given that the AC had broken down again, the fans made a lot of noise and filled the apartment with hot, suffocating air. Nevertheless, that wasn’t the only thing that was preventing him from sleeping.

There was so much noise.

So much noise.

The...fucking fans.

And also Alec.

Alec was making too much noise, even though he wasn’t making any. He had been making too much noise since the mayor’s wife had fallen lifeless on top of her dead husband and he said nothing; Alec, quiet as he was, had been making too much noise since then.

He was making too much noise now.

All the furniture in the room, except his couch, of course, had been moved towards a corner, and David and Alec Artino laid by his side, on the floor, lost in a sea of blankets and pillows.

Alec was sound asleep, his arm wrapped around his brother’s body, illuminated by the warm lamp light, because David wasn’t used to sleeping in the dark (or, more likely, he didn’t like it), even though he was like 11.

Somewhere in this apartment, hidden in a box at the bottom of the closet, there was a helmet, waiting for the sun to come out, only to be worn by Alec, who was either very delusional or very…

Serious about this.

Leroy wasn’t sure, but what he was sure about, ironically, was that he didn’t want to know.

One could only stare after so much blood had been shed. On one hand, prodigies had spoken up, and it had been thanks to them, who were led by Alec…

On the other hand, the point of no return was a drastic measure and, also, an uneven path that could either turn out to be very effective or very tragic and chaotic.

Besides, Leroy didn’t know what he should believe anymore because, being an esceptic, it wasn’t that easy for him to believe everything Alec said, especially when that everything involved a helmet being the answer to all of their problems.

But if it was…

If it was...maybe they were screwed.

Just maybe.

Alec knew that, because he had been the one to suggest it, aware of his actions and its potential consequences.

That’s why Leroy wondered how he could be sleeping so calmly. Actually, when he explicitly asked himself that, he could hear Alec’s voice in his mind:

“Because I know we’re not wrong.”

Which, maybe they weren’t.

Just maybe, again.

With the sound of the fans getting on his nerves, Leroy rubbed his hands over his face, which was sticky thanks to the sweat, and it made him feel gross to the point he actually considered taking a shower at this moment, in the middle of the night, until he realized that would be useless, because he would take a shower, and then he would come back to the couch, where he would sweat again, and it would be like a circle of failure.

Leroy stayed there, his eyes wide open, staring at the ceiling and thinking about how much he hated the fans, the AC and the summer, until he heard a mildly loud thud, coming from Honey’s room.

She was usually loud during bad days, throwing things around accidentally or bumping against things as if she had planned to bump into them. Over time, Leroy had stopped getting up to go check on her, because she wasn’t a baby that needed to be fed every two hours; she was an adult, meaning she wasn’t his responsibility (even though he was staying in her apartment).

That time, however, he felt the need to do it.

Leroy groaned quietly, and then he started heading towards her room which, obviously, was as hot as the rest of the apartment, and the door was ajar.

There was nothing worrying or weird happening in there, but Honey was crouched down on the floor, cursing between her teeth as she tried to pick up her makeup stuff from the floor, putting it inside her cosmetic bag; Leroy thought about helping her…

Before his attention was drawn towards the dress.

The mannequin was standing across the room, next to the twin bed; it was a long dress, with black and yellow stripes, and a sort of cape that looked like the wings of a bee. The pins and needles around the waist and the borders allowed him to know it wasn’t finished yet.

On the floor, Honey tried to take a small set of eyeshadows, but her hands were so shaky that it slipped from her and, when it fell onto the floor again, the one in the champagne shade shattered, so Honey took a deep, laboured breath and rubbed her forehead until she left a reddish, mildly swollen trace in her skin.

It wasn’t that severe, but it snapped Leroy back into reality, as he knelt down next to her and took her by the wrists before she could do any more harm to herself.

“Go wash your face and drink some water. I’ll manage.”

Honey took her time, just staring at the floor, until she decided what to answer and said:

“I’m okay.”

Even if she wasn’t.

Teary-eyed, Honey looked at the dress she was making, to which Leroy followed her gaze, and they both just...observed in silence, and it seemed like it had a life of its own.

At least, until Honey scoffed and, taking her hands away from Leroy’s grip, she finished putting her makeup inside the bag.

“Is it too much?”

If it were another person, it would’ve been too much, but it was Honey.

Nothing was ever too much for her, and Leroy had grown to accept that. He would only wear a shirt and a lab coat, but of course she would sew a wholeass dress just for this ocassion. Even if she was as unsure and scared as everyone else, and even if she was the one who had cried herself to sleep for the last few days because, although not scared of death, she was terrified of uncertainty, or having to hide the rest of her life.

“Because that’s not living.” She would say. “That’s like...being a ghost, hidden behind a curtain.”

“It’s too much.” Leroy confirmed, trying to shake the intrusive thoughts out. “But it’s not like you care about that, do you?”

“I wanted it to be pretty.” Honey responded, although Leroy could feel some sort of emptiness in her tone. “I’m going by Queen Bee, you know? And it had to look...I don’t know. Special. Like...a queen.”

Then she stood up, and Leroy watched her as she walked around the mannequin, shaking some inexistent dust off of the fabric.

“Unlike my prom dress, which was pink.” She said, wrinkling her nose. “...Not that pink it’s an ugly color. I just don’t think…”

She swallowed, and then she, suddenly, started working in the dress again, not as if she had forgotten Leroy was still there, but as if she didn’t mind his presence at all.

“...I mean, it’s my color but I don’t like it...and to be prom queen...you have to fit in. And I’ve always been like… an outstanding actress, not to brag. Can you imagine? I even convinced myself I loved that ugly dress. Crazy.”

Sadly, for what Leroy could tell, she was yet to convince herself she loved this.

All of this.

This whole situation.

“Harper.” Leroy said, getting on his feet too, and putting his hands inside his pockets. “Are we…?”

“Whatever that you’re going to ask, don’t.” She cut him off, deliberately, as a hasty breath escaped her mouth.

Maybe, in her mind, the phrase hadn't sounded that harsh, but when Leroy received it, it did. It sounded, in fact, as harsh as it could, and she seemed to have noticed that, because she avoided eye contact, and Leroy focused on light breaking through her curls.

"We're gonna die." She whispered.

Her voice was breaking, but she didn't cry.

"But I'm tired of being a freak, Leroy. I don't wanna be a freak anymore." Honey said, and Leroy could tell she meant every part of it.

Even the dying part.

"... And he's all that I've got."

This time, he flinched, but not because he hadn't expected it, but because, somehow, he knew it was coming and, yet, something itched when she said it.

Something almost hurt when she said it.

But when Leroy tried to open his mouth, trying to phrase what he wanted to say without sounding like he actually cared or was way too offended, a voice came through the doorway, hoarse and sleepy.

"That looks nice." Said Alec.

And since he had arrived late, he referred to the dress.

The compliment, however, went unnoticed, as Honey just pressed her lips together and continued sewing.

Alec, arching an eyebrow, turned back at Leroy.

"Do I happen to be… Missing something or…?"

So he was asleep.

It was the night before the big strike and Alec was sleeping. Right there. Next to his little brother.

That was so Alec.

And Alec was just so… Him.

It was insane, and almost terrifying to watch and experience.

"It's just that…"

"I don't feel good." Honey said, rubbing her forehead again, this time twice as hard. "Can we… Can we pray?"

To put it lightly, Leroy didn't consider himself a believer, but Alec did. Sometimes, he dared to say, a pretty devoted one, even if he did question some biblical passages and talked about how the translations of the Bible could never be fully trusted.

Still, when he heard that, his lips became arched into a smile; a kind, understanding smile.

"Of course we can pray, Miss Harper." He said, before turning at Leroy to ask:

"Would you like to join us?"

And in that moment Leroy knew that wasn't how he wanted to spend his sleepless night, but, somehow, he was unable to think of any other way, and so he agreed, even though he didn't know how to pray.

-.-

Of course, Alec didn’t want to annoy David, so they ended up going out, to the balcony, where they lit a candle, because Alec wanted to.

Being outside, Leroy felt he was finally able to breathe, because the summer weather felt less hot, to the point it was actually bearable; Leroy wouldn’t have minded sleeping here, if the balcony had been more spacious.

But they weren’t here to sleep. They were here to…

Pray.

A gust of wind struck them, so Honey cupped her hands around the candle’s flame, caringly; her hands were still shaking and, obviously, Ace noticed that, as he smiled in a very understanding way, and he looked up towards the sky, and the stars reflected in his green eyes.

Alec’s smile weakened for the first time in a long time, as he took a deep, deep breath and let the air out in a sigh, putting his hands together, as if he meant to rub them together...but he didn’t.

Instead, he looked down, towards the candle, and then towards them.

“I can see why you’re hesitating.”

“Alec.” Honey said, in a soothing voice. “We’re not hesitating. We’re just…”

He chuckled a little, perhaps with the intention of interrupting her.

“I’m not saying hesitating it’s necessarily bad; hesitating, in fact, is something I consider...human, almost powerful.” He explained.

Because of course he saw it that way.

“If I had a coin for every time I’ve seen hesitation in my own eyes, I’d probably be...far, far away from here.”

“Why don’t we go far away then?” Honey snapped, shifting her position. “We could...I don’t know...maybe...Alec. Your brother. He’s so young. He’s...Alec…”

“I know.” Alec nodded, solemnly. “And since he’s so young, he’s exactly the reason why we should stay. Think about the children.”

For a moment, his expression darkened, and he could see him, as Ace Anarchy emerged from the shadows, and it held Alec by the shoulder.

And his soul became bold and bigger, while at the same extremely small, like a single grain of sand.

And Alec spoke, with his lips pursing and quivering once.

“Think about the children. “ He repeated. “Think about those who are like us; those who turned out to be like us; those who were mistreated; those who suffered; those who desperately tried to be heard but couldn’t because they were deprived of life; think about the ones we lost on the way, and those who trust and believe in us…”

Leroy felt the need to speak, as Honey was starting to scratch her thigh, like she always did every time she was too nervous.

“There was a child inside of the mayor’s wife...what if that child was a prodigy?”

“But what about the damage they’ve done to us? “ Alec spoke, frowning. “Those were bad people. They killed the ones they didn’t like. They mistreated us and banned us from places just because they could...what about that damage? What about the damage they did to babies who were already born, but killed at hospitals because they were prodigies? As if that were their fault? As if that made them monsters?”

Speechless, Leroy looked down.

“...What about us?”

What about us?

That was an excellent question.

“What about us.” Leroy repeated, as a statement instead of a question.

“What about me?” Alec pointed at himself. “...what about the...celebration held by the ones who wronged me, when they thought me dead? What about all those broken bones when they decided to surround me at school just because it was thought that prodigies couldn’t feel?”

He turned at Honey.

“What about you? What about the people who turned their backs at you just because they knew? How they mistreated you? … What about your family who said it was your fault and made you believe such….beautiful powers were something hideous until you decided the right thing to do was hiding them? "

“Oh, Alec.”

“But what about the sound of your voice? ...How you stand there and speak up? Don’t you like how your voice sounds, Honey Harper?”

“I do. I really do, but…”

“And what about you, Leroy?”

What about you.

“Wasn’t it ironic? How they hurt you because you were just a normal human being and then hurt you again because now you were a prodigy? What about that?...Why should we be okay with that?” Alec’s voice trembled.

“...Why should we allow it? Why should we let the same thing happen to David, who is young? Or the ones who will come after David? Or the ones who didn’t even get to be David’s age? Or the ones who died suffering, trying, hurting or hiding? … What about them? What about the ones who didn’t do anything? Why should we be like them?”

As silence filled the balcony, the candle kept burning, and Alec took a deep breath, again.

“I refuse to be like them. I’ll never be like them...and, since we’re working together, and we know that we’re worth it...then, there’s still hope for this world. And there’s still hope for us, although not for the ones who acted and became evil through time. “

Upon saying that, he held their hands towards them, slowly.

Honey was the one to put her hand on top of his’, and Leroy the second.

Then, Alec squeezed them, closing his eyes, as he said something and Honey answered it, because Leroy had no idea what that meant.

“Dear Lord…” Alec looked up at the sky. “You, who made the stars, and then made those stars turn into us...and you, who chose us to be the ones to fix the wrongs your people have managed to create….please send us a sign if we’re doing something wrong, before Gatlon falls.”

Squeezing his hand tighter, hiccuping and lowering her head, Honey started mouthing a prayer, but Leroy couldn’t help but look up at the stars too.

Send us a sign if we’re doing something wrong, before Gatlon falls.

Maybe the omnipresent entity told something to Alec, because he was the one who knew how to talk to it.

However, it didn’t say anything to Leroy.

He just knew that, for the first time, this felt real, and this was happening and, maybe, if Alec was speaking the truth, this could be the last night they spent alive.

And then…

Leroy didn’t know what came next. After death.

God didn’t send any sign either, as they prayed together.

The candle light, however, did die.

But Leroy wasn’t superstitious.

That had been just the weather.

The summer breeze.

The night.

The night before the strike.

Send us a sign if we're doing something wrong.

And God didn't talk back.

#renegades trilogy #marissa meyer #my fanfics #dawnie writes #reneweys birthday saga #alec artino #ace anarchy #honey harper #queen bee #leroy flinn #cyanide

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incomprehensiblelentils · 4 years

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@dollsome-does-tumblr does this and opened it up to anyone and I am feeling chatty today SO!

Because I co-write a lot with my lovely wife, I might answer some questions including those co-written stories, or I might not, depends on how I feel when I get there.

name:

Megan but I go by Lentils most places on the internet, Shadowcrawler over on AO3

fandoms:

at the moment: MCU, especially Agents of SHIELD and Daredevil; Terminator: Dark Fate; Halt and Catch Fire. Oh and I wrote Dollhouse fanfics a thousand years ago. Sometimes I will watch a movie/show and think “those two girls should be gay” and bang out 2k of fic about it and then never write for that fandom again. (I THOUGHT this was going to be HACF but as it turns out, no, it’s not done with me yet.)

where you post:

AO3, at Shadowcrawler. I also have a tumblr @lentils-writes where theoretically I post links to fics/advertise them in the tags, because I used to be real precious about not putting porn on this blog, but fuck it.