#anyways *please be decent please be decent do it for the cast please let the movie be decent*

[thewhizzyhead]

as a "more is better was a much better fallout scene between cady and aaron and was actually quite profound in showcasing cady's character to the point that the song was brought back in the conclusion of the musical" truther, i am genuinely so disappointed-

[puppym3]

want a dom han one? I got you unnie!! Han is my bias wrecker and believe me I have MANY ideas. So my idea was: "Han saw you walking with your ex on street going to a club in a sexy outfit and he got jealous so he got dom" I hope it's good enough thank you for accepting my last request and if you want to put me in the tag list I don't have a problem :)) thank you unnieee I love youu <333

───

➤ han jisung x reader

wc: 2.1k

warnings: MDNI! 18+, smut, jealousy, public sex, unprotected piv, fingers (f. rec), pull-out game crazy, risky sex in random alley, ig they're in love now?, (lmk if i missed anything)

a/n: THANK YOU @jiyeonslays FOR THE SUGGESTION, i love you so much, i hope i wrote it nicely <3 i hope you're having a nice day or night where you are, I've been getting tons of han and hyunjin suggestions and it makes me so happy!

love you guys, stay sexy! if you want to be added to the taglist lmk!

───

You’d barely noticed the crisp night air as you walked down the bustling street, arm-in-arm with your ex. Your outfit clung to your curves, a daring choice for a night out at the club. The city lights bounced off the sequins of your dress, casting a mesmerizing shimmer that caught the eyes of passersby.

Your ex's hand rested possessively on your lower back, and the occasional flirtatious comment and laugh between you made it clear that the evening was meant to rekindle old flames. You were having a decent time, but your mind was far from at ease.

There were so many other things you'd rather be doing.

Your phone was filled with text messages from your friend, who had been nosy about the whole thing, she was the one who set you up for this entire date anyway. She did that because she liked your friend, and wanted you to get out of the picture for her.

The two of you were walking to a popular club in the heart of the city, the line for the entrance was already wrapped around the building.

"Do you wanna stand in line or should we just go back to my place?" Your ex's tone was low and suggestive, and you knew what he wanted.

You sighed, knowing that he wasn't going to like your response, "I'm sorry, but I just want to get a drink and have a good time."

Your ex rolled his eyes, "We can always do that. Just come back with me, please."

His tone was desperate, and you couldn't help but wonder if you'd made a mistake by agreeing to see him again.

Suddenly you felt a hand on your wrist,

"I thought I told you to stay away from her." It was the voice of someone who was trying very hard to remain calm, but the rage was there. You turned around, recognizing the voice instantly.

"Han..."

"Who the hell is this?" Your ex said, not pleased with this interruption.

You felt embarrassed, especially because it was in front of a whole crowd, "This is Han, my friend."

Your ex scoffed, "Friend? That's what they call it nowadays?"

"Shut up. You don't know what you're talking about." Han was practically fuming. You felt his grip tighten as he snaked his arm around you to protectively lay around your waist as if he was afraid to let go.

Your ex’s eyes narrowed, clearly offended by Han's overt display of possessiveness. The crowd around the club seemed to sense the tension, some looking over with curiosity while others tried to ignore the scene.

Han’s gaze remained fixed on your ex, his voice carrying a sharp edge. “I’ve told you before—stay away from her.”

You could see your ex bristling, clearly not liking the turn of events. His voice came out low and threatening, his hands clenched into fists.

"What the hell are you even doing here? Did you follow us?"

Han ignored him and instead turned to look at you. You felt your heart leap into your throat as you looked into his dark brown eyes. You saw a fire burning behind them, an intensity that you had never seen before. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words died on his lips. Instead, he leaned down and pressed his mouth against yours, kissing you deeply.

The kiss was electric, sending sparks throughout your body. You felt your knees grow weak, and your breath quickened. Han pulled away, his eyes searching yours for a moment. He then turned back to your ex, his eyes darkening as he spoke,

"Leave."

Your ex was stunned, his eyes widening as he took in the sight before him.

Han stood there, his jaw clenched and his arms crossed. He was not backing down.

Your ex let out a shaky breath and turned away, muttering a curse under his breath as he left.

Han's eyes followed him until he was out of sight. Then he grabbed your wrist and led you to a secluded area, where he pinned you against the wall.

You gasped as you felt his body pressed against yours, his lips dangerously close to your ear.

"What- What's wrong?" You stammered, trying to regain your composure.

Han's grip tightened, and you winced slightly.

"Why didn't you tell me you were seeing him again?" His voice was low and dangerous, his hot breath tickling your skin.

You were taken aback by his question, your cheeks flushing as you tried to find the words to explain yourself.

"I... It wasn't... it wasn't set up by me."

Han's brow furrowed, and his eyes narrowed. He wasn't convinced.

"Then why didn't you tell me you were hanging out with him? How do I know you didn't plan on going home with him tonight?"

You shook your head, your eyes wide as you tried to make him understand.

"No! No, it wasn't like that, I swear!"

Han's lips were pressed together in a thin line, his expression unreadable.

"Then what was it like?"

Your heart was pounding in your chest, and you were struggling to breathe.

"I was trying to get over you."

You felt his body tense against yours, and he took a step back, his eyes never leaving yours.

"Get over me?"

You nodded, your eyes beginning to sting.

"I like you, Han. But it wouldn't be right for me, because someone else likes you."

Han's eyebrows knitted together, and he ran a hand through his hair.

"Is this about your friend?"

"Yeah, she wants you and she thought maybe if I was out of the picture, she could step in."

Han sighed, his expression softening as he took a step toward you.

"I don't want her."

You felt your heart flutter in your chest, and you held your breath, unsure of what to say.

Han’s confession hung in the air between you, a tender vulnerability in his eyes. His hand gently brushed your cheek, his touch both soothing and electrifying.

“I don’t want her,” he repeated, his voice steady but filled with a deep sincerity. “I want you.”

His words sent a thrill through your body, and you couldn’t stop yourself from leaning in closer, your lips seeking his. His arms wrapped around your waist, drawing you close. His kiss was gentle at first, but quickly became more passionate. You felt his tongue brush against yours, and a moan escaped your lips.

He pressed you against the wall, his hands roaming over your body. You were lost in the moment, the taste of him on your lips, the heat of his touch on your skin. You couldn’t help but wonder if this was a dream or if it was real.

He broke the kiss and stared into your eyes. "Seeing you with that asshole drove me crazy."

You were still dazed, your breathing heavy. You struggled to find the words to respond, but Han continued.

"I wanted to break his fingers, just for touching you."

You gasped as Han's hand drifted up your thigh, pushing the hem of your dress up.

"You're mine."

You nodded, your lips parting as he leaned in to kiss you again, his hand moving between your legs. You gasped, feeling his fingers teasing you, slipping under your panties.

He broke the kiss and pulled away slightly, looking into your eyes.

"Say it."

You swallowed, your eyes fluttering closed.

"I'm yours," you whispered, your breath catching as he slid a finger inside you.

"Good girl."

He pressed his lips to yours, swallowing your moan. You felt his tongue dance across yours as his fingers worked their magic.

You couldn't help but tremble, the cold night air, the feeling him slowly pumping in and out of you, his thumb brushing over your clit. It was all too much.

"You're so wet for me," he whispered, his voice low and husky.

You let out a small whimper, his words sending a wave of pleasure through your body.

He removed his hand, and you heard the sound of a zipper being undone. You opened your eyes, gazing up at him.

"H-Here?" You said, your eyes widened in panic.

He chuckled softly, his hands cupping your ass, lifting you up.

"You think I'm going to wait any longer than I have to?"

He carried you over to a random ledge in the alleyway, the metal surface cool against your heated skin. He lowered you down onto it, the metal creaking beneath your weight.

He reached up, grabbing a handful of your hair and tugging it back. You gasped, exposing your neck to him. He bent down, his lips brushing against the soft skin of your throat, trailing down to the swell of your breasts.

"So beautiful," he murmured, his fingers tracing the contours of your body.

You shivered, feeling the cold air against your exposed flesh. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, the need for him growing more and more urgent.

"Please," you breathed, unable to wait any longer.

He grinned, his hand sliding between your legs, stroking the sensitive flesh. You shuddered, feeling the heat of his palm against your slick folds.

"What do you want, baby?" He whispered, his fingers tracing light circles on your clit.

You moaned, unable to form a coherent response, your mind clouded by the pleasure his touch was bringing you.

He chuckled, his hand moving lower, slipping a finger inside you. You gasped, feeling him thrusting into you, the sensation sending waves of pleasure coursing through your body.

"Please," you moaned, arching your back, pressing your breasts against his chest.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours, his hand moving faster, his thumb circling your clit.

You moaned, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he pleasured you. Your body trembled, the sensation overwhelming. You knew you wouldn't be able to hold back much longer.

"I need you," you whimpered, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

He groaned, his other hand grasping the back of your neck, his lips devouring yours.

"You'll get me, baby."

You shuddered, feeling him pull his finger out of you.

He grabbed the base of his cock, positioning himself at your entrance.

He pressed his lips against yours, his tongue sliding past your lips. You moaned into the kiss, feeling the head of his cock pressing against your slick folds.

You gasped as he thrust inside you, stretching you open, filling you completely.

You moaned, feeling him slide out, only to thrust back in, deeper than before.

You clung to him, your legs wrapped around his waist, your nails digging into his shoulders.

He buried his face in your neck, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin as he rocked his hips, his pace growing faster and harder.

"God, you feel so good," he moaned, his voice strained.

You cried out, feeling him slamming into you, the pressure building within you.

"Don't stop," you pleaded, your eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure threatened to overwhelm you.

He groaned, his hand tangling in your hair, pulling it back as his hips snapped forward, his cock hitting that sweet spot deep inside you.

You cried out, feeling the heat in the pit of your stomach rising.

"I can't," he growled, his breath hot against your ear.

You whimpered, the pressure building, threatening to burst.

He grunted, his grip tightening on your hair.

"Cum for me, baby."

You cried out, your body shuddering as you came, your climax washing over you.

He moaned, his hips bucking, pulling out before his cock twitched as he spilled his seed on your thigh.

You collapsed against the cold metal below you, panting heavily, trying to catch your breath.

You looked up at him, your eyes half-lidded, a smile on your lips.

He grinned, leaning down to kiss you, his hand resting on your cheek.

"Are you okay?" He asked, his eyes filled with concern.

You nodded, taking a deep breath.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you said, your voice shaky.

He kissed you again, his lips lingering against yours.

"But, we are... kind of in a public space."

Han blinked, looking around the alleyway, "We are, aren't we?"

"Uh-huh."

He chuckled, helping you off the ledge.

"That was a bit spontaneous of us."

You giggled, pulling him into another kiss.

"It was," you agreed, smiling up at him. "Let's hope there's no cameras here."

Han glanced up, his brow furrowed.

"Yeah, that's probably for the best."

The two of you dressed quickly, adjusting your clothes and making sure there was no evidence of your little tryst.

He grabbed your hand, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on the back of your hand.

"Where to now?"

You thought for a moment, then shrugged.

"Well, I did want to go dancing."

───

taglist for my beauties : @loverbangchan, @reignessance, @imperfectlyperfectprincess1, @armystay89, @ihrtlix, @jiyeonslays, @lovestaysblogs, @jeyelleohe, @celebration88

[k0yaz]

ACKKKK HIII ITS THE ACHERON ANON AGAIN 😭😭

i just finished reading your acheron headcanons AND IM LITERALLY LOSING MY MIND IM SO GLAD SOMEONE ELSE IS INSANE ABOUT HER LIKE ME… AND THAT YOU THINK SHES A SWITCH? i’m so normal about this!1!1!1! anyway- while reading your hcs i had an absolutely deranged, down bad horny thought:

having her sprawled out under you, fucking her with your fingers and whispering in her ear, and calling her mei.

saying her name like a prayer while she digs her nails into you and cries and whimpers… telling her how much you love her, letting her fall apart in your hands and piece her back together 😵‍💫

anyways i will be back with more (very sane hebryegge) acheron thoughts ! for simplicity’s sake, could i be ur 🌺 anon? (i wish the flower was red like acherons but WHATEVER MAN.)

thank youuuu !

say it again.

Pairings: acheron x fem!reader

CW: nsfw, female reader, afab reader, dom reader, sub acheron, fingering, sesbian lex yeahhhhh, what’s the thing where you scratch someone’s back cause that’s in there too, tit sucking, use of acheron’s real name, I think I ate my fucking pillow writing this, I love acheron, I managed to write this decently without tea, not proofread.

A/N: YAYAYA ITS YOU AGAIN IM SO GLAD YOU CAME BACK FOR MORE ACHERON STUFFS honestly you’re so real for those freaky ass thoughts and also ofc you can be 🌺 anon <3 🕯️

Shallow strings of gasps echoed off the walls, casting a gentle sigh out of your throat as you felt a set of nails rake down your back. Your fingers plunged deeper as the ridges massaged Acheron’s walls, practically having a death grip on your fingers from how the hot velvety texture clenched around your digits.

You could tell. Each time you’d push and curl them up against that spongy spot within her, a mix between a whimper and a groan wrenched out of her throat. Warmth flooded your senses each time you saw her gorgeous form sprawled out below you, head tilted to the side and eyes squeezed shut in ecstasy as she rolled her hips up to match the pace of your fingers.

Acheron could certainly kill you if she wanted. She could turn you into a memory within mere moments. But she didn’t. She trusted you enough to do this to her. Acheron allowed you to see her in such a vulnerable state, leaving you to do whatever you pleased to her.

However, each drag of your fingers massaging her cunt wasn’t predatory nor rough. Rather, it was sweet—affectionate. You wanted her to feel a high which allowed her to bask in comfort within your grasp. You wanted to hear her cries of need and pleasure every time your fingers buried inside her cunt, while you whispered soothing praises into her reddish ears.

You giggled to yourself upon seeing how she was yearning for your touch, eager for you to fuck her into the mattress as she grasped you tightly against her. A shiver pulsed down your spine when you saw how adorably captivating Acheron’s reactions were. Still trying to maintain a composed front, yet crying out below you as a never ending stream of quiet groans and sobs were ripped out of her throat.

Your free hand circled below her breast, hot gasps brushing against the tip of your flushed nose as your teeth tugged on her bud lightly.

“You’re so gorgeous, Mei.”

Your remark made Acheron’s gaze flicker down to you, breathing growing quicker and shallow as she brought a hand to the back of your head to dig her fingers into your hair, pushing you deeper into her chest to encourage your sensual movements.

“Say it again. Please.” Acheron whispered, somehow being able to maintain her usual low voice through her irregular breathing and choked back whimpers. You only dragged your tongue along her breast in response, squeezing the soft flesh between your fingers as your other hand thrusted up into her continuously.

“Mei.” You muttered, face now raising level with her cheek as your warm breath caressed her cheek.

“Mei. Mei. Mei.”

Her name repeated past your lips like a mantra over and over, as Acheron only arched her back in response to your fingers’ fervent thrusts. As if she couldn’t be any more pleasantly ruined by you, your velvety tone of voice simply pushed her over the edge, finding a sense of solace and warmth enveloping her body at the sweet nothings seamlessly dripping from your lips.

“I love you so much, Mei. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Acheron had never seen words as anything important. They’d just been means of communication. A quick frequency vibrating and cutting through the air, much like her own sword. However these words uttered by you and only you seeped into her heart in a way she couldn’t understand. She didn’t understand any of this. Yet, it was welcome. Perhaps she would let you into your heart, because she loved you oh so dearly.

A guttural moan was ripped out of Acheron’s throat as she felt the tip of your fingers press against her sweet spot, her head tilting back into the cloud like pillows, and your lips ghosting her cheek. Her panting filled the room as her climax snapped inside her, the intense high gradually subsiding as you slowly withdrew your fingers, now painted with her fluids. You leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to her stomach as she let out a low hum in response, thighs clenching slightly upon feeling the dampened sheets below her.

“I won’t ever let you go, Mei.”

“That makes two of us, (Name).”

A/N: dude I am so happy with how this turned out even though I wrote this first thing in the morning also guys I swear I’m normal about acheron pls trust (no I’m not sub acheron is making me lose my shit I’m this close to climbing on the ceiling)

[dooberific]

❝ 𝘓𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘕𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳 ❞

wriothesley x afab!reader

genre: domestic fluff

summary: Long days and late nights are fickle problems when something sweeter waits at home

The house was quiet when he stumbled through the front door, the day still heavy on his shoulders. He liked to think he wasn’t one to complain, that a few extended hours at the Fortress without a break was no sweat, but the walk back to his home felt excruciatingly long as if each step filled his legs with molten lead.

The only thing disturbing the nighttime darkness that filled each corner was the soft yellow glow from the kitchen, a sink light left on in anticipation of his arrival home that hardly cast enough light to traverse the downstairs. That was fine, the exhaustion settling into his body was wringing the last of his will to move an inch further anyways. He collapsed into an armchair, groaning deeply as he stretched his legs and relaxed into his seat. He leaned his head back, eyes drifting shut as a yawn passed his lips.

He could hear the lightest pattering of rain on the windows from an evening shower, the distant and monotonous metronome of a wall clock ticking somewhere deeper in the house. It was almost strange to not hear the slow groan of the old metal walls creaking under the currents, the sound of boots pounding over hollow floors. The scent of cinnamon and vanilla met his nose, a comforting smell that now seemed to invade every inch of his kitchen and overwhelmed the previously burnt one.

Since when did he have time to keep up a decent abode and it not reek of dust and disuse?

“You don’t intend to sleep like that, now do you?”

Oh yeah, this wasn’t just his home anymore-

He hadn’t realized he had drifted off till he startled violently at the kind voice that met his ears, his muscles tightening as he sat upright, fingers digging into the upholstered arms of the chair as if he intended to rip them right off. He let out an amused yet tired sigh, a hand rising to rub his sleep-bleared eyes as he offered up an exhausted smile.

“Of course not, just resting my eyes.”

You smiled from where you stood, arms crossed comfortably over your chest as you leaned against the doorframe. The feeble kitchen light shone like a halo behind the crown of your head, as if he needed any other reminder of what an angel you seemed to be.

“Did I wake you?” He pressed, eyes tracing the silk nightgown that hugged your body under the loose robe draped across your shoulders and your disheveled hair.

You shook your head and yet part of him was confident you were lying. “No, I was waiting for you to get home. Let’s get you to bed.”

You closed the space in a few strides, sinking gracefully to your knees. He seemed to anticipate your next actions, quickly withdrawing his legs. “Baby, it’s fine I can do it--,”

You swatted his thigh with a huff, shooting him a good natured glare. “Absolutely not, now stop being stubborn.”

As much as he wished he could win against your own attitude he knew there was no arguing his way out of it now. You could be thought of as equitable to a mule, stubborn as all hell when you chose to be, and after weeks away he wasn’t egging for a fight with you in the middle of the night. So he relented, slowly stretching his legs back out as a pleased grin teased your lips. You were quick, hands latching to the heel and toe of his boot and with practiced ease you slid it off and tossed it aside, the same treatment given to the other as he groaned lightly at the stretch on his sore legs.

“See, was that so hard?” You teased as you rose back to your feet only to seat yourself on his lap, a hand carding through his mussed hair as his eyes fluttered shut and he leaned into your delicate touch. The mighty Duke of Meropide was as docile as a lap dog in your arms, his face buried into the crook of your neck, his breathing deep and slow as your fingers worked through his scalp, down the back of his neck and to his shoulders, massaging the day out of his muscles.

A hum of laughter passed your lips as he pressed soft kisses against the column of your throat, his dark lashes tickling your skin as you slowly helped him undress, unclasping the many belts of his uniform and sliding the wraps off his forearms. You pressed soft kisses to his bruised knuckles, slowly slipping off his lap as you dropped his hands despite the dissatisfied noise that rumbled through his chest, twirling his tie around your fingers as you tugged him forward.

“Come to bed, Wrio.”

You would never have to tell him twice.

Rey, 2023

[faerievampling]

Homecoming

Part 2 of A Vampire's Courage. Can be read as a stand alone!

Summary: The Dark Urge and Spawn!Astarion, after having decided to remain friends, have been traveling together after the defeat of the Netherbrain. After finally sleeping together, Durge and Astarion have unfinished business. Smut and feelings ensue.

Word count: 4.2k

Link to Ao3!

Pairing: Spawn!Astarion x Female Durge

Warning: 18+, explicit. Violence. Blood. PiV. Vaginal Fingering. Cunnilingus. Blow Jobs. Inexperienced reader. Sixty Nine ;). Durge x Astarion being deeply in love.

A/N: This Durge also goes by Tav! happy valentines day :) im foaming at the mouth for patch 6. I hope y'all enjoy.

Astarion holds you for a while, only leaving to lie in his own bed after you’ve drifted off. 

“That was the first time in ages you’ve slept through the night,” Astarion remarks once you wake. “We’ll have to do that more often, darling,” his tone was teasing. 

The two of you traveled in silence for a while. It was peaceful, under the stars and the full moon. You didn’t know what you wanted to say to him, so you said nothing. 

He had told you that you were special to him. But he could mean a million different things by that - couldn’t he? And of course you were special to him: you were the first person he ever trusted. 

And to be fair, he hadn’t said anything either. You can’t help but wonder if he regrets it, if your eyes and ears deceived you and he really had just been up to his old ways. 

Besides, you both had a job to do. You needed to focus.

“So, are you willing to sign?” The squat human asked; the contract lie in front of Astarion, who was still reading it over. “We are just quite ready for this little problem to be taken care of.”

Astarion did used to be a magistrate, but he hardly remembered his life before his undeath, so he was just pretending to read the contract. You both knew that if this man didn’t pay up, you would intimidate or charm him until he did. 

Astarion had just wanted him to beg a little. With a sloppy mark, Astarion signed his name before handing the pen over to you. You scribble something resembling ‘The Dark Urge’. 

“What an odd name,” the human remarks, giving you an awkward smile.

“A family name.” You smile back. 

“Well, let’s get on with it then, my dear,” Astarion says to you before turning to the human. “We never return empty handed. We’ll see you when the job is done,” The two of you leave the man’s office; he was an assistant to the Mayor, who you could tell he was rather eager to please.

You clear your throat, trying to make sure you sound as normal as you could after last night. “So, any ideas on how to kill a Chimera?” You ask Astarion, hoping that maybe he will surprise you. 

Astarion laughs. “Oh, Gods no, dear. Surely we should just cut off its heads, right?”

“As quickly as we can, I imagine.” You think you sound pretty normal. You sure hoped so, anyways. He sure did.

“So, you don’t really have a plan, is what I’m gathering.” 

You sigh. “Not in the slightest.”

The battle with the Chimera went about as good as could be expected: you and Astarion kicked ass, as usual, but not without injury. You had quite the gash on your shoulder, which Astarion was insistent on lapping up once you got to a decent spot to camp. 

Astarion had several protective camp items he could use to shield himself from the sun during the day: an enchanted tent and a music box that could hold constant concentration for casting a veil of Darkness. These were just some of your boons from adventuring as you searched for a permanent solution.

You felt the chill of his lips on your skin as he licked the wound clean. You wanted to tangle your fingers in his silver curls as he attended to you. The longer you two were in contact, the greater your heat was building up, and you could feel the slickness of your folds as the blood in your body rushed to your labia.

You could tell he was taking his time. The two of you had done this so many times before, but you couldn't help but feel how the pressure of his lips against your skin was softer, lighter, and he was moving his lips more than he usually did, like he was planting kisses on you.

This time, it undeniably felt more intimate, more erotic. Your heart was already racing from the contact, but gods was it fast now. You needed to say something.

“Alright, hurry up,” You say roughly, cursing at yourself for your choice of words; he relents, sticking a bandage on you and handing you a healing potion. You pop the cork of the bottle, drinking down the red liquid and instantly feeling warm all over. You would be fully healed by morning, thankfully; plus, the pain was already starting to subside, leaving you feeling greatly relieved.

But before Astarion says anything to you, he’s pulling you to your feet, his hand gripping yours with such strength it startles you.

“Someone’s coming,” Astarion whispers to you. “It’s several people. Smells like the villagers.” The two of you exchange looks of confusion before the picture comes into view.

There is a group of armored men approaching you; you and Astarion immediately go into a defensive stance. Typically, you would be in front and Astarion would be in the shadows, but this time he stands in front of you.

You realize you are only in your bra, since Astarion had been tending your wound. 

“Trying to protect my modesty?” You ask with a huff, but Astarion only growls at the men in response.

“One step closer, and I won’t hesitate to kill you,” Astarion sneers at the men, who stop in their tracks. You kind of wanted to see it, secretly.

“You’d really protect that monster? That Bhaalspawn,” A man spat the word from his mouth, and you knew why they were here. “I could never forget your face. I doubt you even remember mine. You killed so many at the Slaughter of East End, my family along with it.”

‘East End’. Didn’t ring a bell.

”I was able to run but you got to them!” The man was screaming at you now, but you can only blink at him over Astarion’s shoulder. 

“Maybe they should have run faster,” Astarion barks. He can’t see the mist in your eyes. 

“They are both monsters. Kill the elf and then the Bhaalspawn,” Someone bellowed from the crowd, causing the men to chant in agreement.

A mocking voice rang through the night air. ”Burn her!“

That’s all the group of men could say before Astarion tore the throat out of one in the faceless crowd. You had intended just to defend yourself if need be and knock them out, but when Astarion pounced first, the men were destined to die.

You’re plunging a sword through the chest of a man when you hear another start to beg. Astarion’s laugher rings out against the last few cries of battle before quiet settles amongst the camp. 

It takes a short while for the two of you to calm down. The blood of nearly a dozen men soaked the grounds of your campsite. The smell of copper overwhelmed an untapdoled (and thus less controlled) Astarion, and he had to get away from you for a while; he made sure you had your sending stone and your warding bond ring on, just in case. 

You felt numb for a while, and when you finally felt Astarion’s hand on your shoulder, you weren’t sure how long you had been sitting on your shins in the blood soaked earth. 

“He was right, you know. Even if I had seen his face, I wouldn’t have remembered it,” You say as Astarion helps you to your feet. He looks you over, scanning your body for injuries.

But your only injury is of the heart. Invisible, but maybe not to Astarion. 

“You’re not being fair to yourself,” Astarion says, “Maybe you caused ruin in your past. But you aren’t the same person you were.”

“But do I not still deserve punishment?” You say, exasperated. “I feel like I do. Like I should pay for what I’ve done. There are some days where I can’t stop thinking about Alfira -“ Your voice cracks, and Astarion grabs your forearms as if he’s trying to hold you together, to steady you from your wavering fortitude. 

“You’ve paid already, darling. You’ve saved the damn world! Isn’t that enough?” His eyes are pleading, because you know this isn’t just about you: Astarion’s own past was shrouded with victims. 

“I don’t know,” is all you can say.

“Those men deserved to die, Tav.” His eyes were narrowed, his face shrouded with convicted vengeance. And despite your anguish, your guilt, those feelings subside a bit when you look into Astarion’s ruby eyes. 

He’s nodding at you, further trying to affirm his words. You take a deep breath, nodding along with him. 

“Let’s set up elsewhere. If we hurry, we’ll have time to set up at least one of the tents,” Astarion squeezes your forearms before bringing you into an embrace.

It was a welcome surprise, and you melt into him, a warmth from within you starting to spread throughout your body. 

The two of you work hard to move the camp, setting up his sun-proof tent. You both make time to wash and put on fresh clothes; your wound from earlier is already healed, so you dress in fresh underclothes and camp wear. 

As you see the sun peak over the horizon, you look to Astarion, realizing neither your tent, nor the enchanted music box, was anywhere to be found. 

“I can’t find it, my tent or the music box,” You say, your tone more pleading than you would have liked. “You’re sure you grabbed them?”

“Yes, well, I think so, at least,”Astarion has a curious look on his face. “We don’t really need it though, do we?”

Oh. You knew what this meant; surely, surely, he is referencing his recent bedding of you.

“You want to share a tent?” 

“We already do share a lot of things: resources, often a room, and last night, a bed.” Astarion has turned on the charm a bit, but his smile his warm, his eyes open and rounded, wet with anticipation.

You feel the blood rise to your cheeks.

“You can cast Darkness yourself, can’t you? That would be enough for you to freely come and go from my tent so you can tend to your…living needs.” Astarion flirted. 

 “But you wouldn’t be able to leave the tent. I can only cast darkness for about thirty seconds at a time, and I have limited energy.” You were babbling now.

“I know how your magic works, darling. But I won’t be needing to leave the tent,” Astarion steps closer to you, putting his hand on your waist. 

You pause, getting lost in his ruby eyes. “So…you want me to keep you company?”

Astarion’s smirk softens, his eyes round and open to you. “Yes,” 

You swallow. “The sun will be up for a while,” 

Astarion chuckles lightly, so much softer than the last time you heard it. He brings a hand to cup your face, and now you finally understand what he may be asking of you. Astarion must see the realization in your eyes, and he brings his head down; you feel the sensation of his cool, soft lips as they press against your own.

His touch is so tender, you can’t help but melt into his palm. You feel like he’s holding you up now, carrying your weight. 

“Worried you’ll get bored, darling? I promise you won’t be,” Astarion’s salacious voice is low and raw in your ear; it sends an urgent shiver through your body. 

Astarion pulls you into his tent, and you are enveloped in him. His very presence lingered in the air, and you recognized the familiar smell of bergamot hanging in the romantic darkness. 

The tent was spacious and had been enchanted to look like the night sky. You had seen it before, of course, but not with Astarion’s urgent hands on you.

His lips are on you, his tongue easing between your parted lips as he drinks you in. Astarion was an excellent kisser, likely much better than you, and you did your best to follow his lead. But his tongue dominated yours, and he gradually deepened the kiss as his dexterous fingers began to unlace your shirt.  

You could sense Astarion’s desperation to see your breasts as he unhooked your brassiere. 

You don’t know if you’ve ever seen him like this before, so ravenous for you. His lips trailed over your neck, to your chest, where he focused on your sensitive nipples. 

You’re surprised when Astarion gets on his knees, his tongue circling the tip of your breasts while his pretty lips wrap around the swollen bud. 

You see the light of the enchanted full moon reflect off of Astarion’s eyelashes as he bats them at you, causing you to gasp at the sight. 

One of his hands is squeezing your other nipple, and the other is gripping the curve of your ass; Astarion groans against you, his fangs grazing your skin. You feel the pressure of the prick as they bite down, just enough to avoid breaking your skin. 

You’re focused on Astarion’s rapid breathing and whimpers as his arms snake around you, pulling you down to your knees to meet him at level. 

“Tav, I-“ Astarion begins, but he can’t seem to keep his lips off of you. 

“Astarion,” You say, but you trail off as his lips are on yours, tongue plunging into your mouth as he brings his hands to cup the sides of your jaw. 

I love you. It was on the tip of your tongue. You think it may have been on his, too. You didn’t even know if you really understood the meaning, but you knew how innately the words came to mind when you thought about Astarion.

Astarion eases you on your back, his lips never leaving yours. He makes quick work of unlacing your trousers. But before he can pull them off of you, his desperation overwhelms him and he moves to unlace his own pants, releasing his swollen cock.

“Take yours off, your panties too,” His words are firm, yearning, and Astarion watches you intently as you lift your hips to pull off the rest of your clothes, leaving you entirely naked in front of him.

Astarion groans, breaking your kisses as he moves to grab your shins, spreading your legs wide. His eyes sweep over you, pausing at your exposed core. You realize it’s rather bright in the tent with the light of the full moon, and surely he doesn’t sleep under this light.

You wonder if he adjusted the magic so that he could see you better. And the little smile on Astarion’s face as he drinks in the sight of you, naked and spread for him, confirms your theory.

“I thought about you like this all day,” He says to you in a raw voice. His hands roam your body, a hand tugging at a nipple while the other caresses your curves. 

He shifts closer to you now, bringing you pelvis to pelvis, and his cock rests along your mound, the tip of which reaching just below your belly button. 

“You have?” You whisper, your eyes wetting against your own protests. He begins to rub his cock between your folds, and you squirm at the pressure on your clit. 

He dips down to press his lips to yours again, hand moving between your legs to your slick folds as he begins teasing you. “You’re all I’ve thought about, Tav.”

“Tell me what you want, my sweet. I want to give it to you.” Astarion whispers eagerly, and you realize just how undone he’s come: his curls are disheveled, brows furrowed with pleasure, full lips parted. 

Astarion’s fingers explore you, his thumb circling your sensitive bundle of nerves as he eases a finger inside your entrance.

“I want to taste you,” You say, your eyes glued to his swollen cock. Astarion hums with approval, eager to please as he readjusts you both.

Astarion lies on his back, prompting you to get on your knees between his legs, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock.

You wanted to taste it, because you never have before; as you place your lips on his tip, gently kissing it, flickering your tongue as you do, you realize you don’t actually know what you’re doing.

Surely you’ve done this before. It seems familiar enough. Astarion looks through his lashes at you, watching as you tentatively handle his cock. 

He tastes amazing: clean, cool, and you take him in your mouth as deep as you can, causing him to gasp. 

“Sorry,” you murmur between your darling kisses. “I don’t really know what I’m doing,” 

“Oh,” Astarion breathes, pondering this just for a moment before his focus is back on you. “Start by putting your lips around me. Go on, lover.”

Astarion watches as you follow his command, putting your lips around the girth of his cock. You start to move your tongue, swirling it on his skin as you’re already sucking just a bit.

“Yes, my sweet, oh-“ Astarion moans, his hand moving to your chin just to caress you, to touch you, to know you are there and that it is you that engulfs him. 

Astarion starts to buck his hips into your mouth, his hand moving from your chin to the root of your hair, holding you firmly in place as he starts to fuck your mouth. After a moment, he’s breathing heavily, and he releases you, ruby eyes boring into you, clear as day under the light of the enchanted moon.

“I need to taste you,” Astarion speaks, his voice low. “You trust me to make you feel good, Tav?”

You’re confused about why he’s asking you this: his precum was still on your chin, the taste of his salty seed still lingering on your tongue. He was delicious, of course, and you only wanted more. 

“Yes,” you say as he brings himself up to kiss you again. 

“I want you to bring your legs over my face, so that I can fuck you with my tongue while I stuff that sweet mouth of yours.” Astarion’s words are sultry, low and sexy, as usual, but his voice is firm, his words chosen in such a way so that you know exactly what he means to do with you. 

Your eyes go wide at this. You’ve never heard of anything like that before, and you think it sounds complicated. But, you hadn’t lied when you told him you trusted him: so you nod.

“You’ll have to tell me what to do,” Your words are heavy on your throat, thick with anticipation. 

“I certainly have no problem telling you what to do, my darling,” Astarion purrs, causing you to quiver with anticipation. 

Your cunt, so slick and desperate for more, throbs with desire as Astarion puts his hands on you, guiding you to position his head between your thighs, exposing the heat of your core to him as you face his cock.

Astarion let’s out an audible sigh of relief as he wraps his arms around your waist, bringing your cunt straight to his mouth; the sensation is heavenly, the angle of the position has your clit and folds fully exposed, resting in his mouth as he takes worship in you. 

His tongue teases your folds before dipping between them, hungrily lapping at your entrance; you feel used as your juices begin to drip down your thigh.

The vibration of Astarion’s little moans tease you, causing you to settle into him further.

You bring him in your mouth, trying to bob your head to give him pleasure, but you’re overwhelmed by the feeling of his tongue spearing between your folds, your walls, tasting your depths before sweeping over your swollen clit. 

You can’t focus on your movements any longer, as Astarion’s motions send shockwaves of pleasure through your body. As his expert tongue focused solely on your swollen nub, you go totally lax.

Before you know it, you’re moaning with Astarion’s cock still in your mouth, despite your orgasmic paralysis. You feel your rumble of ecstasy rise up within you, and you’re hoping you aren’t gushing too much as you spasm around his tongue. 

Suddenly, Astarion grabs the back of your head, pushing you down on his cock, stroking your mouth. You’re still writhing in utter euphoria and creaming in his mouth as he takes you. 

Once you’ve come back down from your high, your body is still lax. You’re thankful Astarion is so strong and doesn’t have to breathe, because you’re dead weight atop him. 

You muster the strength to roll off of him, and he works to place himself on top of you, between your legs. Facing him now, you see the evidence of your orgasm in his eyes and on his face.

His nose, lips, chin, were soaked in your come, his pupils blown with lust at your scent. 

You feel your walls stretch as Astarion inserts two fingers inside you, prepping you for the girth of his cock. His intrusion only makes your cunt salivate more. 

When he’s satisfied with your stretch, he starts to sink into you.The pressure of his cock makes you gasp, and Astarion cups your jaw, guiding your eyes to him. 

He’s saying your name like a prayer. “Oh, Tav, Tav, my sweetest girl, my love.”

Once his mouth finds yours, his kisses are fervent, passionate, matching the slow pace of his strokes. His tongue is so soft, and he tastes so good with your come on his lips that you’re already primed to give him more. 

He pumps in and out of you, stretching your walls to his girth until you are perfect for him before his thrusts start to quicken. 

You feel him putting more strength behind his thrusts, inserting himself deeper within you until he’s bottomed out.

“Gods, Tav, you’re unbelievable,” Astarion purrs in your ear. Finally, he’s fully inside you, and he can’t help it anymore: he strokes you, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix, so deep you’re brought into a delirium of pleasure. 

You heave in his mouth as he eases his tongue between your parted lips. Your stretched walls start to contract around his cock, and you’re coming on him again before you even realize.

Your hands grab at his curls, trail lightly over his back: you’re careful not to be harsh with that sensitive part of him. But you needed to caress him, to feel his body beneath your palm.

As your body spasms beneath him, you feel entirely fucked out, your body going lax again in his hands. Astarion made you so…pliant. You wanted him to be yours so desperately. Your hazy brain is ready to do anything for him. 

Astarion’s thrusts become less calculated as he comes undone, and before you even realize, Astarion is moaning your name as his balls contract, spurting thick ropes of come deep inside you. 

It takes a moment for you both to come back to reality. Astarion rolls onto his side, gathering you in his arms as he adjusts to ensure your shared comfort. 

The coolness of him feels amazing against your skin, still hot from lovemaking. 

“I love the way you feel against me,” You hum into his chest. After just a few beats, Astarion pulls away, easing himself up on his elbow to look down at you.

“I want to kiss you,” Astarion says with a swallow. “And I want to do it whenever I’d like.” 

You pause, getting lost in his crimson eyes. “Y-yes, you may.” You stumble, but Astarion is smooth enough for the both of you.

He brings a finger to your chin, holding you in place as he presses a tender kiss to your lips. When he breaks away, he rests his forehead on yours, and you feel your heart thumping away in your chest. 

“I don’t want anything to change between us. I just want to be able to do this with you. To kiss you when I like, to touch you when I like,” Astarion pauses, trying to ensure he gets all of his thoughts out. “And I don’t want you to do these things with anyone else.” 

“I let you get away because I knew I wasn’t ready. I want to give you something real, but I couldn’t at the time,” Astarion kisses you again, so tenderly you feel a pang in your heart. And between your legs.

“But now, Tav,” He caresses your cheek, causing you to gasp a little. Astarion smiles a little before his face continues its serious, sincere expression. His eyes were wide, and he was bearing his soul to you.

His hand clasped yours. 

“I want you. I’ve wanted you to be mine since the clearing.” 

You’re speechless, heart fluttering at his words. You can only say what’s on your tender mind: “I think I love you, Astarion.” 

A hand smooths your hair back, delicately, as if you are a precious thing.

“I love you too. But I know that I do. I want every part of you.” Astarion’s voice rumbles through you.

Your chest swells, and you feel like you’re bursting from within: it’s something you’ve never really felt before, but it felt distinctly like home.

Masterlist

Link to Part 1

[theetherealbloom]

THE SILVER LINING — CH. 5

Chapter Five: Closing In

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

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

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

Word Count: 10k

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

Song: De Selby (Part 2) by Hozier

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OUTER RIM TERRITORIES, 9ABY – EVENING

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

SORGAN, 9ABY – DAY

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

INSIDE THE RAZOR CREST

OUTER RIM TERRITORIES, 9ABY – SPACE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

MOISTURE FARM, ARVALA-7 — SUNSET

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

INSIDE THE RAZOR CREST

OUTER RIM TERRITORIES, 9ABY – SPACE

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"But—"

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

"Yes," he confirms.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cara's curiosity piques. "What station?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The IG-11 leaves.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

NEVARRO, 9ABY – DUSK

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

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

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

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

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

"She's coming," Din insists.

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

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

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

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

NEVARRO, 9ABY — EVENING

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“They will,” Greef Karga asserts confidently.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Observing the Child, Kuiil interjects, “Wait.”

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

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

NEVARRO, 9ABY – DAWN

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"No," Din interrupts firmly.

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

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

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

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

"Bring me," Din suddenly interjects.

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

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

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

Din begins, "Cyar'ika—"

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

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

"Yes," he confirms.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"What?" he asks, catching your reaction.

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

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

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

NEVARRO, 9ABY — DAY

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cara suggests, "Slip him his blaster."

Greef shakes his head. "Not yet."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Not yet," Kuiil replies.

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

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

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

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

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

No response.

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

Still, there's silence.

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

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

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

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

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

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

[aita-blorbos]

AITA for killing my musical cast???

Okay so i understand how that could sound maybe a little bit bad however I think if you hear me out you’ll understand why I had to do it.

Okay so I (M 65) had been working on the next big musical, the musical to top all musicals. And the theater in my town was doing a competition to see what the next performance they put on was, and while it was not broadway debut it was something. So I go and i preform my title number and they accept it.

You may think this is good however it’s not, they ask me to change one of he key components of the show. Genderswaping the whole thing. Already off to a bad start. So we get actors and they act and what not. It’s still lacking the emotion and basically everything I put into the original script.

You see this musical is actually based on me and my 6 boyfriends, it’s an homage to them and their lives. You see tragically one day we were playing in the football field one day and a crash of lighting came and killed all off them, leaving me as the solemn survivor.

Anyway these girls where taking my beautiful art and ruining it, taking my wonder words and harmonious Melodies and throwing them in the garbage can. It was horrible. Anyway opening night came and I wanted to die but the show must go on I guess.

There’s a decent crowd but the show starts and no one understands it. Their all laughing at the the wrong bits, they don’t deserve to be seeing this show at all.

Anyway remember my 6 dead boyfriends well they appear to me back stage and tell me the show is terrible, I tell them it’s the first showing and we haven’t got all the kinks worked out but I know their right. However it’s just 5 of them, one is missing, I ask where he is. He’s on his way they tell me and I realize I can’t let him see this mess, he’d hate me if he saw it. So them they help me realize what o have to do. I have to kill the cast and do the show myself.

And so that’s what I do. The audience is none the wiser. After the curtains rise back up I take the the stage and apologize for the horrendous show the audience had seen. I try and start the show from scratch but now the audience is distracting me. Their yelling about blood and screaming about how the cast is dead. Womp Womp I have a show to preform, so shut up please. One guy tries to make a run for it so I shoot him, not sure why it just felt like I was fulfilling something. Anyway i continue on with the show when all of the sudden a preppy little church girl shoots me. What

I do my best to keep preforming but she shoots me an insane amount of times. Anyway I fall to the ground, to my death. But not before I hear and see it, the sounds and sights of a standing ovation. I did it, I honored my boys.

So am I the asshole or perhaps am I a hero for rightfully getting to tell me and my boys story.

[tarisilmarwen]

Rebels Rewatch: "Legends of the Lasat"

Kevin Kiner please take all my money forever.

Right, attempt two at this. Seriously Tumblr what is the point of having an auto-save feature for posts if it doesn't actually save a decent previous version of the post?

Also WHY THE HELL DID CNTRL+Z DELETE BASICALLY THE WHOLE DAMN POST?!

Anyway.

I'm glad we got to visit this moon space base location again, I think it's such an interesting design.

Another tightly-written opening dialogue exposition scene here, in a few short sentences we learn what they Spectres are here for and why, and that the mission is urgent.

Lol Ezra being evasive about Hondo being his contact. I do wonder how exactly Hondo got that transmitter to Ezra. Did they reconnect sometime offscreen? Did Ezra swipe it during "Brothers of the Broken Horn"? Did Hondo surreptitiously leave it in Ezra's pocket?

However it happened, it's adorable that this once-ruthless bloodthirsty greedy pirate basically decided, "I MUST BEFRIEND THE BABY JEDI, HE'S MY FRIEND NOW I CLAIM HIM."

The camerawork in this scene is phenomenal. This first shot that tracks the Spectres and then dollies just around the corner, as if we are also peeking around it with the characters? This fast almost 270 rotating pan across the Spectres as they make short work of the troopers? Stellar.

(You can also tell they had budget to spare for this episode because the Imperial officer has a face. Lol.)

Love it when they let Ezra be casually awesome.

Hera sounds so aggrieved that Hondo is Ezra's contact lol.

And here we get the reveal, Zeb was captain of the High Honor Guard of Lasan. A bit later in the episode we learn this consists of being a bodyguard protector of the royal family specifically and all citizens of Lasan in general. Sooooo yeah, quite a bit of heavy personal guilt for Zeb here, feeling like he, specifically, personally, failed his entire world. Ouch.

"Hondo could use a little help." <3

Zeb's expressions this scene are painful. :(

Hondo being so dang fond of Ezra aww.

Though not so fond that he doesn't immediately screw everyone over, greedy bastard.

I saw Zeb rolling his eyes there, animators.

So Zeb's interactions with Chava and Grond are very much a Spiritualist vs Skeptic plot, with the expected tragic personal reason for the skeptic's doubt and disbelief. It's also heavily implied that the loss of Lasan, that trauma, made Zeb regress in maturity, made him snippier and more petulant and churlish. As Ezra says later Zeb does act "like a child", so perhaps his being cast as the Child archetype in the Prophecy of the Three was not so off base lol.

Ezra has such cute smiles this episode. <3

LOL Hondo's chipper little "Hello!" at the Stormtroopers.

"Well. This must look... incriminating." This man is a delight in every scene.

I mentioned the camerawork right? This is another nice shot here, this pan down from the cockpit to the nose gun turret to meet Zeb.

Subtle animation appreciation moment: The smoke coming from the chimney top of the station.

...Is this Stormtrooper also voiced by David Oyelowo?

Ezra immediately noticing Zeb's scoffing like the empath he is. <3

Love love love seeing the unique cultural way that Lasat interact with the Force, the "Ashla" as they call it, mixed ritual and magitek, prophecies that revolve around certain narrative archetypes and symbolic figures. It's just so cool.

I haven't been talking much about the music yet (oh but believe me we will have much to say on that) but this cue here starts easing just slightly into the mysticism of the Lasat ritual. It's almost Stravinsky-esque in nature, carefully stepping flutes and clarinets, discordant strings. We incorporate just a very soft snippet of the Force theme.

Zeb auto-assuming Ezra is the child.

Lol Hondo putting his arm around that one Stormtrooper's shoulder.

He's so cute asjkhfkajsh. Look at him. He's all like, "Please Dad, can I chant with the weird purple people too?"

HE LOOKS SO FOND AND PROUD AWW.

The score takes a bit of an exotic turn, a mellow arabic flute and possibly a sitar adding to the texture of the melody.

The lighting in this scene egads.

I love this scene I love it so much. Ezra acting as counselor, with his mere presence and curiosity getting Zeb to open up about his past and fears and insecurities. There's so much hurt in Zeb's slumped posture, guilt and grief compete for space in his voice, and I don't think we see him this distraught again until after Kanan's death.

But with Ezra's encouragement, he pulls himself together.

Once again showing off the cool magitek with Chava's staff and Zeb's bo-rifle here and I just love the concept, I love the whole aesthetic of hearing whispers of destiny through the Ashla and then channeling the energy of the universe through arcane, almost magical technology to navigate the stars, like some kind of arcane mariners. And we all thought the bo-rifle was just some kind of standard ordinary weapon, SURPRISE, it's also an ancient Force-magic navicomputer.

And oh wow the parallels with the purrgil next episode and the Chiss sky-walkers in the Thrawn novels.

This is soooooo pretty. The animation here is gorgeous.

After the commercial cut we're in hyperspace and the Ghost is making an almost blind jump out into Wild Space. Hera doesn't seem terribly worried. (Behind the scenes material says she apparently does this all the time.) But the ship's safety protocols flip out when they sense the imploded star cluster and Hera quickly drops them into realspace and one of the most gorgeous moments of the series.

HNNNNNNGHGHHHHH.

This whole sequence is stunning. Some of the best animation of the show, accompanied by one of the best tracks in the score, the star cluster looking like a watercolor spectacle.

And the Stravinsky influenced instrumentation brings the strings front and center; a haunting choir whispers in the background.

Kanan putting one hand on the back of Hera's chair and the other on her shoulder, aww.

Just tell me you wouldn't want this as a wall painting. <3

Chava gives some inspiring words about not pidegonholing oneself into a single role in their prophecy and this motivates Zeb to find a well of inner courage and open himself up to the will of the Ashla.

What I wouldn't give for more on ancient Lasan tech, how their ships must have been designed to integrate with the bo-rifle staffs. It functions as pilot and navigator and also apparently encases the Ghost with a protective shield that keeps it from being crushed by the gravity.

Let that sink in a moment, the staff, when channeling the Force, can literally bend gravity around the ship.

AND AS "JOURNEY INTO THE STAR CLUSTER" WRAPS US IN A VIOLIN SOLO THAT EVOKES MYSTERY AND MYSTICISM KANAN AND EZRA SENSE THEIR HELP IS NEEDED AND CALMLY PLACE HANDS ON ZEB, LIKE THE LAYING OF HANDS DURING CORPORATE PRAYER, AND CHANNEL THE FORCE THROUGH THEM INTO ZEB, WHO LETS IT FLOW THROUGH HIM THROUGH THE RIFLE TO GIVE HIM THE CLARITY OF VISION TO SEE THE WAY THROUGH.

Subtle animation appreciation moment: The sparks that pop from a wall panel on the cruiser as Kallus attempts to have it follow the Ghost.

THE CHOIR COMES IN FULL BLAST.

AND ZEB CLOSES HIS EYES IN FAITH AS THE LIGHT TURNS BLINDING.

Whew! And what a rush! The absolute quiet in the score right afterwards gives us a moment to inhale and catch our breath.

Chopper of course chooses to be a pest, releasing the tension.

Lira San being the ancient lost homeworld of the Lasat fits right in with the whole arcane vibe of their culture, like they were connected to a place and people that time forgot.

And tada, we leave with a character arc complete, a new hyperspace route plotted and everything bathed in an aura of serenity.

This episode is one of the best of Season Two, if not the whole series. Everything comes together beautifully in the third act and the story has a feel of both spiritual transformation and wonder. I've already gushed about how interesting and unique the Lasat culture is, how it's presented as a mix of mysticism and technology, with prophecies and wise women, royal families and warriors, and navigators that explored the stars, guided by the Ashla.

Zeb gets more character growth in one episode than some characters get in a season, and he's largely "finished" after this, his issues with his past resolved. (Which isn't to say I wouldn't have loved more character focus on him, just that this is so phenomenal.) His heart-to-heart with Ezra is touching and illustrates just how close they've grown.

And did I mention this episode was pretty? This episode is super pretty and the music is straight fire.

10/10 no complaints. Would give Kiner my money again.

[s-solarisstar]

hii i have to say i LOVE you desktop/web theme btw -- anyway can u do something of the new task force? (the 2022 mw) like how to the reader came into contact when all or most of the main cast for mw

IM BACK. or we? not really its just Noelle :) But yes I can do this!

TF141 AND HOW THEY MET YOU

pairings: REBOOT Task Force 141 (aka MW2) if you want the Old one, please send a separate request!

notes: erm, hinted Mexican/Latine reader, hints to romance with a few but take it as you want (only if you squint except for maybe 1 or 2 where its obvious), and obv not proofread!

REBLOGS OVER LIKES!!!! if you enjoy REBLOG! (you'll automatically like don't worry baes)

Kate Laswell was the one who suggested you as an operative for the new task force. You were one of her best under her wing, and she had thought you would be a great addition to the team. After seeing your field success rate, General Shepherd was also on board with the idea especially since you had such good ties with the Mexican Special Forces.

John Price was the first operative you had met. He and Kate have always been on good terms so he took you in very quickly. Of course, as the founder and senior operator, he still had to be a bit more rigid on his fresh meat to ensure you could live up to the expectations Kate put on him of you. Price always supported you through the task force's most challenging parts of your career. Drinks after every (successful or not) mission were always a must between you two. Indeed, he was the most supportive of the bunch.

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish landed number 1 on your list of getting along when you two immediately hit off. Your meeting was reasonably quick, only on the airfield before your mission in Las Almas alongside Alejandro. Cheesy remarks between you two were always a must and even after knowing each other for a few weeks at most, Soap was glad you joined. He admired you, both aspects on and off the field, always coming to you for advice whether that was personal issues or with combat. Often visiting of each other and purposefully being assigned with each other as often as you could were the best parts of the career on your new team.

While Simon "Ghost" Riley did not take a keen liking to you. Especially in the beginning when you let your mouth run wild about Las Almas. Irritated, he constantly made snarky comments on your work even when it was the cleanest you'd done. Your relationship was rocky from the get-go, even during the prison break for Alejandro and his boys, or even when you could see right through Philip Graves' lies and cameo. What changed everything was when Ghost missed his shot on Hassan, and you were on another building above and took Hassan out as a backup. At first, he was irate, not at you but at himself for making such a mistake and he eventually warmed up to you very, very slowly realizing you were the reason that the world wasn't in smithereens right then and there. Over time you two would become close, and you were one of the only people he opened up to about things -- he finally let his guard down.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick was all over the place. You had actually never met him until Chicago after the success with Hassan. You two didn't have much time to honestly know each other, but what brought you decently close, perhaps through drinks, was the constant interest in where each of you was. Every sip was a question about London, where he was from, or Las Almas, where you were. Questions on the London attacks and all Gaz's missions to your early career as border control to life with the Los Vaqueros. By your next mission, you two knew plenty about each other and had become a dynamic duo, particularly in stealth.

Even though Alejandro Vargas and Rodolfo Parra were associates of Task Force 141, you had known these boys forever. Early border control had you talking to them frequently about troubles. You eventually left border control when Rudy suggested that you join his crew in the Mexican Army, and you gladly accepted his suggestion and joined. After the Las Almas Cartel fallout with Alejandro, the 3 of you became inseparable, and you and Rudy became Alejandro's second-in-command when Los Vaqueros were made. Kind, snarky, flirty, funny remarks almost always when you two worked, and you were a great help during the Borderline mission knowing the area well on the American side of the border. Even if you are now a full member of those (bloody Brits), you will always have close ties with your boys. You three had all collectively promised to go out multiple times yearly to catch up.

You never had correctly met associates Nikolai, Farah Karim, and Alex Keller, but stories were told about their bravery and how outstanding they were. You had plans to try and meet them sometime in your new career and always looked back on their choices to make your own.

Since you've made it this far, have you considered looking for a new book to read? Especially if you're a post-apocalyptic, futuristic fan? Joan is the second owner of this account and is busy writing her first book, BACKLANDS! While not published yet, you can find her on Wattpad at J-Joannarc to ask more questions about her upcoming story! We would appreciate any support since Joan, like me, are young and aspiring writers.

[taraljc]

popping in from the renaissance/medieval post from like 4 days ago. Sorry. Hi. That's the duck. That photo you posted. I spent many a far too early morning in that yard and that was before we painted it and so probably before my time there but only just, but i'd recognize the fence and the shop in the bg anywhere and now i'm sitting alone in my apt in mn smelling cinnamon almonds and listening to the court of common pleas from the other side of the building and oh so desperately missing randall t and his sideways grin as he mussed my flatcap and minding the step from inside where the fridges and nessie were and the duck itself was slowly sinking into the ground because it was still just a garage that someone dumped and left and standing with my cast mates looking as sad and pathetic as we could after lunch at our guildmaster (sue at the time, later my own mother,) hoping she'd let the three of us take on the revelers in a game of stool ball to defend st. lawrence's honor where someone would inevitably get injured. disapproving looks from t. stacy hicks if we hiked our skirts up high enough to run (this was, naturally, back when i was still deep in pretending to be a girl because y'know, *life*,) and then taking meatpies up to rick and chris in the serenghetti and spending some time with st. mike's concocting Plans what eventually ended in four ducklings with soot goatees and twirly mustaches engaging in impromptu land naval warfare. how dare you hit me with so much nostalgia it hurts in a post where i completely clicked on all the read mores half expecting the beige paperback we got at BAPA detailing all the things we needed to know to be decent period actors. i still have mine, y'know? currently it's packed in a box because i'm moving house next week, but i know exactly where it is and this... oh tara. i've never so much as skimmed your blog before to my knowledge and you have skewered me but good. please forgive the typos. it's 4:30am and i am deep in my feels all of a sudden.

My Emma and I worked at the duck from 1997 to about 2001 and I share your feels! I don't even think we were the guild of St Larry's yet I think we were just an offshoot of the Revellers back when Katie and Ralph ran it before they got divorced? and then we had TJ and the lovely man from court whose name I can't remember sort of as co-guild leaders but Karl was still doing the duck sort of separately?

for what it's worth, we are the ones who started bringing hard boiled eggs, pies from the Middle East Bakery, and started selling to everyone with a pass not just the Revellers Guild and not just the actors but the shoppies and the grounds crew and everyone.

and I absolutely 100% remember the Duck slowly sinking into the ground. I think the fence was a new addition? The innyard in the back I mean that fence was a relatively new addition. And I do remember the tables because I want to say Enzo built them (before he and Sue were fight cast they were Revellers) and then we stained them and waterproofed them but they weren't that great and so they were slowly turning green by the time I left?

Anyway yes, that is me in that outfit and so if you were fed by me I probably would remember you! My faire name was Fionnuala Ní Loughlin and my husband Liam was a dead sailor.

(We were also almost single-handedly responsible for Susan who was not yet Susan Scot Frye banning us from scaring the shit out of the patrons by crying during the 3: 30 melee.)

I miss Randall too, so much. and Enzo and Marc LePescu who ran The Forgery and so many others that we've lost over the years.

[crispy-bonnie]

Salutations , Fried Rabbit !!!! May I Please Request : Dallas , Bain , Sniper And Cloaker With A Y/N That Really Loves Drawing Them ?

I Can Just See Y/N Drawing The Cloaker And The Man Going " Do You Want Me To Pose For You ? " Rose & Jack Style JWJDJEDJEDJ—

i read this request and my brain literally got hit in the fuckin face with an idea like holy shit i love this prompt help ??? /gen

You like to draw your S/O - PAYDAY + FBI

Dallas

Dallas didn't pay too much attention to it at first

When you came up to him in his office and asked if you could chill there, he just let you and payed little attention

However, he later started noticing the glances you kept casting at him every now and then, and it was starting to get on his nerves just a tad

When he asked about it, you quietly explained that you were just drawing, and he asked to see it

If you don't share it, then he'll respect your privacy, but say that you definitely should show him some time

If you do show it though, he nearly has a heart attack [/pos] upon seeing the little sketch of himself in your notebook

Not only do you draw well, but the way you drew him just has him melting like

Does he really look that good to you?

He tells you that you should draw more often, and even says he'll model for you if you want

In reality, he just wants to see more pieces of him being made

He'll ask to keep one of them and if you let him, he'll have it framed on his desk because he loves it so much

Dallas himself tried to draw you as well

It was decent, but it could definitely use practice lol

Bain

Bain always wondered why you always had your nose stuffed in a notebook whilst scribbling on the page like there was no fuckin tomorrow

You didn't show anyone what was in there either, so Bain decided to send Dallas on a secret 'mission'

What he actually did was get Dallas to steal your notebook while you were on a heist and send him pictures of the pages

Bain nearly choked on his vape when he saw the images like help-

Your notebook was full of your interpretations of Bain based off of the very little information that you could gather during heists

He finds it fuckin adorable like oh my god

As much as Bain wants to reveal his appearance to you and see how you'd draw it, he can't because his whole deal is being mysterious ooOOooOOOoooOoo

He hints towards his appearance whenever you're on a solo heist, hoping that you'll incorporate them into your drawings

If he finds that you actually add these hints he'll fuckin melt

Regardless, he ends up getting fed up with waiting and arranges a meetup between the two of you under the guise of a heist

Once you two are face to face, he offers to model for you and oh my god the way you just squealed in excitement as you got your notebook out /pos

I like to think that Bain lowkey is self-concious about his appearance when it comes to meeting up with you, so when you draw him in his usual wear/style he melts oml

If you let him, he'll keep the drawing on one of his monitors to remind himself that he's perfect the way he is

After all, the drawing is how you see him through your eyes, and it ensures him that he is beautiful no matter what

Cloaker

Oh my fucking god this man

As per usual, he broke into your god damn room again through the vent and caught you drawing something

He didn't catch exactly what it was because you hid your notebook before he kicked the vent cover off, as you heard him crawling against the metal of the vents

Regardless, Cloaker managed to get it from you anyway and started flipping through the pages

He didn't say much about the drawings. He just shrugged and said 'cool' before leaving

But in reality, he was flustered as all fuck about it

Like did he really look that hot to you?? What???

Cloaker made sure to pass by you a lot more, making sure to spiffy himself up for your drawings

At some point, he got tired of you not actually showing him the rest of your drawings, so while you were sitting in some hallway and doodling, he just walked up to you, crouched down to your level and said:

"Do you want me to pose for you?"

You were redder than the red on your uniform I swear

If you say no, he'll just continue annoying you until you say yes, and once you do, he'll immediately start posing

He'll listen to you when you ask him to pose a certain way, but he does his damn best to make his poses as sexual as possible

Watching you doodle rapidly with a tomato-red face was just the cutest thing ever like

He was trying not to break pose just to embrace you oml

Once you finish and show him, he just stares for a hot minute before going:

"Hey y'know I could be a nude model for ya if you like-"

You slapped him in the face with your notebook

Whether or not you accept this offer is up to you

No I'm not writing that

Sniper

Sniper first caught you drawing him while on the job

Like Dallas, he didn't really try to bother you too much about it

You two were sitting atop a tower and keeping an eye out for enemies when he noticed you jotting something down in your notebook

He always thought it was just some sort of journal log or something, but those thoughts changed when he started noticing you glancing at him from the corner of his eye

Eventually he just speaks up about it since he's pretty curious on why you're focused more on your notebook than the job at hand

"Whatcha writin'?"

You quickly tell him that you aren't writing anything, and now he's really intrigued. Without looking away from his scope, he asks once more:

"Well, what are ya drawin'?"

If you lie and say you're drawing someone or something else, he just chuckles and points out how he's noticed you staring at him for the past few minutes

You eventually admit it, which elicits yet another lighthearted laugh out of him as he asks to see it

If you show it to him, his face visibly goes red

He's not used to people looking at him, let alone viewing him in such a positive manner

In a stuttery voice, he just says that it looks good and that you should draw more

If you two end up in the same situation of being put on the same watch post, he'll make sure that he's positioned well enough so you can see his face, just so that you can draw him

He'll constantly be asking to see what you've drawn, and his heart just melts every time he sees a drawing of him on the page

[thegeminisage]

now that we're almost halfway through tng (we're at the start of s4, so...close enough) i feel like it's time to do an updated ranking of tng characters favorite to least favorite. here is the previous ranking. this time it will be much harder.

data - this will never change, ever. he gets the most interesting episodes. he is the most interesting premise. he is the the man the myth the legend the moment. he is autistic. he is not less perfect than lore

wesley - i don't want to talk about it

tasha - GIRL I MISS YOU SO BAD COME BACK FOR MORE THAN ONE EPISODE. don't kiss any boys

worf and riker tie - this is going to sound crazy but worf reminds me so much of spock sometimes. because they both struggle to find their place in the world but they do find it on board the enterprise. i like howmad he gets and his strict code of ethics. also, i think what he did on the klingon planet is fucking crazy. i hope they come back to it someday

as for riker: poker king. down to clown. cool with deanna's hookups. how can u not love him. i wish he did more outrageous stuff it's like the best thing about him and they never utilize it. he and worf (e deanna) should kiss

guinan - we like basically never see her and know nothing about her but it's always really exciting when she's there. it's like oh we got guinan this ep! always something to look forward to.

beverly - in a shocking twist i've decided that beverly is currently my favorite alive woman cast regular. this was a contentious decision which may have been influenced by having very recently watched a beverly ep but here's the thing. when they give her a half-decent script she's fucking amazing. when they let her do stuff besides Be A Mom. like she's so brave at times, in a different way than bones was brave - she's afraid of dying in a way that he isn't, but she'll still put herself in danger to help others anyway. actually i've finally mostly stopped mentally comparing her to bones, an honor which pulaski never got. unfortunately we almost never get the Great version of beverly

deanna and geordi tie - i'm sorry women. deanna dropped several rankings because what made her so special to me (yelling at her horrible mother) was immediately backtracked like it didn't matter in the following episodes with her horrible mother. i still feel deep sympathy and solidarity, and also deep gayness, but most of the time when we get Deanna Episodes(tm) they're about her shitty mom being shitty or about some guy sexually harassing her and it's very sad. like i love deanna. this bums me out. please treat her eally niceys

as for geordi, they simply have given him no screentime to do anything cool. i think there's been a total of three really good geordi moments since my last post like this. he's cool but they just never do anything with him. also, i don't like whatever he had going on with that holodeck girlfriend

picard - well SOMEBODY had to be last. i definitely don't actively dislike him anymore, and in fact he has quite a few good moments, he just doesn't make me insane in the brain the way (for example) data or spock does.

look forward to another ranking in like season 7 probably.

[decks-writing-blog]

The Borealis: Chapter Four: Is That True?

Chapter One

Previous Chapter

~

“Or at least I’m assuming you’re both from Black Mesa. Only one of you is in uniform. Not surprising coming from Black Mesa. Not that I actually know, now that I think about it. But you’re our rival so I’m supposed to imply you’re inferior. Though is not wearing a uniform really…”

“Who are you?” Alyx interrupted. Lowering his shotgun, Gordon angled himself to face her as he leaned against the wall. Perhaps since his association with Black Mesa was being brought up, he should say something, but it was easier to let her handle it. Especially since he might have to communicate through her anyway if whoever was watching on the camera couldn’t read sign, a decent possibility. “And, more importantly, why and how did you get here before us?”

“Right, of course, strangers introduce themselves. It’s been a long time. Before we get to those introductions though we need to discuss the reason I let you inside. The one wearing the Black Mesa trademarked Hazardous Environment Suit, please lower your helmet.”

“You let us inside? So you’ve been here long enough to figure out the ship’s controls. Which just makes me want to know why you’re here and who the hell you are even more. Are you with the Combine? What do you need to see Gordon’s face for?”

“All will be made clear after I test my thing. It’ll be quick, I promise. Also the door at the end of the hall is locked so just play along. It’ll be easier for all us that way.” Their tone wasn’t threatening but it didn’t need to be for their words to carry one anyway.

But, whoever they were, didn’t seem to be Combine. The closest the Combine had ever got to speaking with Gordon was through Breen but really, that had been Breen acting on his own. The Combine weren’t interested in talk unless that talk was surrendering to them. This person had implied they were from Aperture which also couldn’t be the case, could it? When the Borealis had ended up here it had brought people with it but there’s no way they’d survived out here that long. So not worth trusting for sure but also not automatically an enemy. Playing along for now was probably their best bet. It didn’t hurt to see what would happen.

So he lifted a hand pressed the button that lowered the helmet. Biting cold hit his face, clouding his breath and make his glasses fog up. The hallway smelled of old metal and blood. Though the latter was likely from the blood splattered and frozen to his suit.

“Thank you. Now, please hold still.”

With a whirring of old, not well tended but still fully functional machinery, a panel opened in the roof almost right above him. A rotary gun barrel descended from it; a turret. Gordon jumped back, raising his shotgun to shoot at it at the same time Alyx shouted, “Gun, watch out!” Not enough though, even old and damaged it was already revving up and firing. The hall was too narrow to get away and above head height, it had the perfect angle to hit him in the one place he was now unprotected.

As was often the case upon dying when not ready for it, time reset to when he entered a new room. The door panel was just closing behind him and Alyx, casting the hall into darkness once more.

“God damn it,” Alyx whispered. “Just when I think we’re finally done with dark places.”

With an inward sigh, Gordon turned on the HEV suit’s flashlight again. And now the androgynous voice would come over the speaker. He’d be ready for its trick this time though.

“It is you!” the voice said, speaking as predicted but… “A long standing mystery finally, finally solved.” That was different. How? Everything, including the things people said, always happened the same unless Gordon interfered somehow. So… why was it different?

“First off, who are you?” Alyx said, sounding even more hostile than before. “Second, what the hell do you mean and how are you here before us?”

“As suspected, you don’t remember. Which confirms that it’s your friend and only friend as the drone footage of your fight with the fellows up top suggested. Ooh, I wish I had someone to share this with but… that’s fine. Come further in so we can talk properly.” The hall lit up, though not fully. A few of the small lights lining the walls were burnt out.

“What don’t we or… I remember? And what’s this about a drone watching us? Also, before we go anywhere, I’d like to know who the hell you are and why you’re here. I don’t think you can exactly blame us for not trusting you given the circumstances.”

“Right, of course, strangers introduce themselves. It’s been a long time.” That was finally something that was the same. Everything else though… did whoever they were remember the resets? “You can call me BOA. I was built and designed to oversee and assist Aperture personal with the Borealis’ computer systems.”

“Built and designed, huh? So… you’re a robot?”

“Incorrect. I’m an artificial intelligence.” Perhaps that had something to do with how it knew about the resets? It certainly explained how it was still alive, if it could even be said to be alive in the first place. Presumably, the Borealis had some way to produce it’s own power. Probably solar, given half the year, the sun never set. “Now your turn.”

“Um… I guess it’s fine, right?” Alyx glanced at Gordon but he didn’t have anything to give so he just shrugged slightly. Trusting BOA wasn’t a good idea, especially after how unhesitatingly they’d killed him earlier, but giving their names probably couldn’t hurt. “I’m Alyx Vance and this is Gordon Freeman. We’re here because uh… we think there might be something on board that can help us in our fight against the Combine.”

“My assumption is that ‘the Combine’ are the other fellows who tried to board me. I didn’t let them in. It’s against protocol. It’s against protocol to let you in too of course but watching the video feed of your fight with the fellows at the top lead me to the conclusion that your friend Gordon is responsible for the time anomalies. A mystery that has been plaguing me for ages. And by ‘ages’ I mean the way humans use it sometimes to exaggerate how long its been for emphasis. It’s really only been a bit more than twenty years.”

So for sure, they remembered then. Gosh, finally. Was that a finally? Was it even a good thing? Probably not, right? Him being the only one who knew was easier but… someone else knowing meant he wasn’t alone in the knowledge. It wasn’t someone who cared or even understood though. And for sure one bad thing about this was that Alyx didn’t need to know.

Her face was of course unreadable under all the cold weather gear but her stance changed, indicating interest. “What do you mean by ‘time anomalies’?”

Gordon could perhaps try to intercept that question, suggest the AI might be glitched after whatever had happened for it to end up here. Surely she would trust his word over theirs. But then again, she’d known for a while that something was up with him and now was one step closer to knowing what it was. How likely was she to let it go without a fight? Probably not very. Especially after he’d brushed off her attempts to learn more from him directly. If he tried to steer her away from this topic, she’d likely suspect his lie.

Instead, he turned his body so only the camera at the end of the hall could see his hands. “Don’t tell her, please.” Would an AI know how to read sign? If it had been programmed to, yes. How sentient was it even? Like Dog or more so? So far it had been talking like a person but that didn’t mean it was comparable to one.

“I believe that is sign language,” BOA said. “Uh… kinda awkward but that’s one of the few languages I don’t know.” Damn it. “I suppose it makes sense though, doesn’t it? I don’t have hands. Probably you are trying to tell me or ask me to answer her question in a specific way. I can’t help you with that though. But anyway, introductions out of the way, come further in. It’s against the rules to let you into my command center but I’m already breaking rules so who cares, right? Besides, you want something from me and well, there’s something you could do for me too so we might be able to help each other.”

“I’m hoping we can help each other,” Alyx said as they started walking, Gordon in the lead. “While we walk though, let’s not drop that ‘time anomalies’ thing. Are you saying Gordon can… time travel?” Of course she wasn’t letting it go.

“Hmm… perhaps. I have no recall of anything that might happen before the blip back, I can only sense that a jump has occurred. It started in 2001. Or perhaps, it’s more accurate to say, that’s the first time it happened. Following 102 blips in quick succession, they stopped before resuming relatively recently.”

Gordon had died 102 times to the Nihilanth, huh? Not a happy thought but it sounded about right.

“The reason I assume Gordon Freeman is responsible for at least this latest round of time blips is whilst watching you fight the fellows at the top of the cliff, they lined up exactly with his reactions to avoid things that would’ve killed him. A few times such was the case with things that should’ve killed you, Alyx. But even in those instances, he was the one reacting to it in time to save you.”

“So, Gordon, that’s it? Your ‘lucky streak’ is time traveling?”

Gordon couldn’t exactly say ‘no’, could he? That was what it was. Probably if he insisted hard enough that he had nothing to do with what BOA was talking about, Alyx would take his word over a stranger’s but… he’d never liked lying. He didn’t really want to confirm it either though. So, not turning to even look her way, he just kept walking.

The halls were all steel and narrow, as expected from a steel ship. Doors opened at their approach, creaking and squeaking as a clear sign of how long it had been since they’d last undergone maintenance, but as a sign of their quality they were still fully functional. Combined with the lights, they were being lead presumably to the Borealis’ command center. Exactly where they wanted to be. Having to work with this BOA AI was not a scenario he’d have ever guessed they’d encounter but it was Aperture Science. From what he remembered hearing about them, they’d had a big AI program in charge of their main facility too. Black Mesa’s spies had vanished with the Borealis before much could get out from them about said AI but still, given that, it wasn’t too surprising that they’d made another to put in charge of whatever was on board this ship too.

“I theorize,” BOA said, “the way his time traveling works is he dies and time blips back. I could be wrong of course but that’s the impression I got based off the footage. I don’t remember testing it but I did intend to and got a blip when you two entered so I assume I did.”

“Gordon, is that true?” Alyx sounded a lot less excited by the idea than she had a moment ago. The exact reason he didn’t want her to know. It was his burden to bear.

He kept walking. The alternative would be to stop and talk about it. They didn’t have time for that and… he didn’t want to.

“Gordon!” she tried again but he was nothing if stubborn.

Before she could try something else, they reached what could only be the command center. It was large room, especially compared to the narrow halls they’d traversed to get here. Much of the space was taken up by a ring of computers in the middle, a lot of which wasn’t immediately recognizable. There were also frozen corpses, three; one draped over and frozen to part of the command center, the other two huddled in the corner. Presumably some of the people who’d vanished with the Borealis. Naturally without cold weather gear, they hadn’t lasted long.

On the ceiling was a crisscross of railings. Attached to which was a large mechanical orb with what was clearly meant to be an eye at its center. It looked down at them, panels over its green ‘pupil’ clearly meant to replicate eye lids.

“I’d love to study him to know more.” BOA’s voice now came from it. This was meant to be the AI’s face, something to look at when talking to it? “But I don’t have the means to do that onboard. GlaDOS would be delighted if I brought you home for her to study and test though. Which is where we might be able to help each other. I would like to…”

“Wait, wait.” Alyx stepped forward, raising a hand. “Before we discuss that,” she stepped directly in front of Gordon, making it much harder to escape her gaze, “is it telling the truth? Is that what your ‘lucky streak’ is? You die and… and… come back or whatever? That’s crazy but…” She trailed off.

Gordon looked away. Lucky for him, delaying just a little bit long, BOA made sound imitating one clearing their throat. “Not an ‘it’. It’s offensive to assume AI’s are automatically ‘its’ just because we’re not human. Not that some aren’t, nothing wrong with being an ‘it’. But I’m head of a ship’s systems and ships are she/hers so I am too, obviously. I suppose I can’t expect Black Mesa pick up on such obvious things though. You probably haven’t figured out how to make anything even half as advanced and intelligent as I am yet. You’re so far behind.”

“Okay, fine, whatever, sorry. Is she right, Gordon? The fact that you’re not answering is kinda making me think she might be. And like… that doesn’t make much sense because time travel can’t be real, can it? But also, you clearly know what’s going to happen before it happens sometimes. You basically admitted to it. How else would you know where to go to avoid Combine air patrols and stuff? And you were the only one who knew about the Advisors that somehow got into the White Forest base. You even knew there were two, almost as if you’d seen them before. Also, if you can be put into stasis for twenty years then clearly we don’t know everything, right? So just… say something. Or sign it, you know what I mean.”

And so everything came falling down at last. As soon as he’d admitted something supernatural was happening with him, he should’ve known this was inevitable. But well… if he were to ever tell anyone, it would be Alyx, his long faithful companion who he’d do nigh-on anything for. With a sigh, he lifted his hands. “It started with the resonance cascade. I don’t understand why or how,” nor did he care anymore, that curiosity had long since been beaten out of him, “but when I die, time resets. There are limits on it but I can choose the time I wake up in. It’s the only reason I’m still alive.” Also the only reason she and so many other people were too. If he had this power he was obligated to use it for good and so he was.

“What’s he saying?” BOA asked in stage whisper halfway through his signing. Both of them ignored her.

Alyx lifted her hands to respond in sign. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“What good would it have done?” It was his burden to bear. All her knowing did was make her worry about him. They didn’t have time for that.

“I don’t know but…” she hesitated, her hands hovering indistinctly for a few second before continuing, “it would’ve been nice to know you were dying over and over. That sounds awful. Are you okay?”

“No.” He hadn’t been okay for a long time.

She stared at him in silence for a few seconds before replying. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. It’s why we’re here.” As much as it hurt and sucked to die over and over again, the amount of people he’s managed to save because of it made it worth it. If he could save the whole planet from the Combine too, he’d go through it all again.

“I’m guessing you can’t go back to before the Combine?”

“I couldn’t go back to before the resonance cascade or I would’ve stopped it from happening.” Which would’ve presumably stopped the Combine from ever noticing them. “Now I can’t go back to before the stasis.”

“I see. Can I ask how many times you… you know?”

“A lot.” More than he wanted to know. “Apparently 102 times to the Nihilanth.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Sometimes.” Most of the time.

“Have I ever died?”

“A few times.” No need to tell her how many times even if he’d known the number. Also no need to specifically tell her how he ‘manually reset’ to bring her back for many of those times. She could probably infer it all on her own if she gave it enough thought. Hopefully she wouldn’t.

“Do you ever…” she trailed off, lowering her hands for a moment before raising them again. “Now’s probably not a good time to talk about it, huh?”

Gordon let out a heavy breath as he rolled some of the tension out his shoulders. This wasn’t as bad as it he’d thought it’d be. Maybe it was even kind of okay? Better than a somewhat unfriendly AI being the only other one who knew. “We should get in contact with White Forest if we can.” Let Eli and the rest of the resistance know that they’d made it and now had to negotiate with an AI.

“Just so you guys know,” BOA said as she rolled her orb over to look down at him from their other side, “the army that was camped at the base of cliff, that got stirred up by the attack on their top forces, will be here in approximately two hours. Presumably they will be looking for you. I won’t let them in, of course. But if they decide to look even harder than before, they might find the panels and pry them open and then who knows what’ll happen? So now might not be the best time to be having a chitty-chat about whatever it is you find so important to talk about in a way I can’t interpret.”

“Yeah, we know,” Alyx said as she stepped back. “We were just finished anyway.” She headed for the console in the middle of the room. “Do you have a communication’s device or something? There’s a call we’d like to make if possible.”

BOA’s orb rolled across the ceiling to look down at her. “Let me guess, Breen, head of Black Mesa?”

“Nope. He’s dead and uh… Black Mesa in general isn’t really a thing anymore. I assume you don’t know since you said earlier that you don’t know who the Combine are but they kinda came and killed almost everyone on the planet like twenty years ago. We’re trying to get them off the planet and more importantly prevent any more of them from arriving. If we can’t, we’re kinda fucked.”

BOA’s eye narrowed, mimicking a thoughtful expression. “I suppose a world ending invasion would explain some things, namely why no one ever came to look for me. The Combine’s the thing you want my help with, correct?”

“Correct. If not, we’re gonna at least try to keep you from falling into their hands. And you said earlier we might be able to help each other, meaning you want something from us too. So I would like to be able to call our people to help us negotiate that.”

“Fine. Part of what I want from you is to restore my systems anyway, we’ll start with my communications. You’ll need to move Johnny before I can open the panel that leads to it. He’s the dead guy to your right.”

The frozen corpse draped over the console. Gordon approached it. Thanks to the unending cold, Johnny was preserved remarkably well, making his ice encrusted face rather harrowing. Or it would’ve been harrowing if Gordon weren’t numb to the sight of death. A clear bullet hole in his back, through his chest, made clear how he’d died; likely at the hands of someone else.

Gordon used the crowbar to pry him loose of the ice holding him in place, revealing his frozen blood splashed over where he’d lain. Once free, he dragged the body over to the other two corpses in the corner. No visible signs of violence on them, presumably they’d frozen to death. All together the three corpses were a good reminder not to trust this AI. There was a good chance she wasn’t at least partially responsible for their deaths.

The lower panel Johnny had been blocking popped open, the rest of the ice covering it audibly shattering. Underneath it was a nest of machinery and wires. Alyx knelt down beside it.

“While you work, could you uh… explain the Combine in more detail to me?” BOA placed her orb right above Alyx, looking straight down at her. “Also, anything else of note that happened in the past twenty years. I am so far behind on the latest news and gossip happening in the rest of the world. It gets kinda um… lonely and boring up here.”

While Alyx got to work on the wires and explaining the Seven Hour War and the Combine invasion, Gordon set to exploring the rest of the room. At first glance it wasn’t that much different from any other technological command room one might find. But while some of the screens, dials, and various other monitoring and control means present on the ring of central computers were related to the functions of the normal ship stuff aboard, many clearly weren’t. Almost none of it being on made even guessing what any of the other stuff was for even harder.

The presence of so much tech and the ship being overseen by an advanced AI confirmed that there was something big on board though. Not that that confirmation was needed, it was kept top secret by Aperture, even more than their other projects, and then vanished right out of the dock, bringing some of said dock with it, after all. Could it help in their fight against the Combine though? And would that be enough to be worth giving BOA whatever it was she wanted from them in return for the help? Only time would tell.

~

Next Chapter

[sir-yeehaw-paws]

back in your ask box!!! i watched your final thoughts for yakuza 1 video (well done on being able to stand some of the glitches like god) and i was wondering if you had any more that you forgot to say or didn’t think of in the moment? i just really love hearing people’s final thoughts on game or other piece of media

That video ended up getting WAY sappier than I expected in the end but I seriously should've seen it coming TBH. I'm a sappy person at heart and anyway let's not get too sidetracked.

So I will say I definitely forgot to mention the camera. Having no control over the camera does mess with me quite a bit. Because Kiryu will turn around and you'll notice in the videos I uploaded of fights-he sometimes just stops hitting enemies. They're gone. Lots of times enemies would get stuck behind wall and other objects. I was also constantly checking the map in the menu itself, because I kept getting directions mixed up.

Not a game breaker, does make for some intense awkwardness. (Some of it's my own fault, I am hardly the gaming champion around here ahaha)

Combat got repetitive. My own fault because as I said in the video, I didn't finish Komaki's training thanks to the input issue. I had other skills I developed too, but I wasn't ever remembering to pull it off. So I didn't vary it to the degree I could've.

At the ending, I was going to finish the hostesses but I messed myself up there because you have Haruka permanently in the endgame. And her bond with Kiryu decreases if he goes to those places (it dropped when I bought weapons at Beam) and I feel bad making her sad so that was my own issue.

There is one place where the original game is better than Kiwami that is..going to probably be a 'hot take' but-not having Majima ambush you every twenty seconds makes for a less stressful game experience overall. You can get from point A to point B with only the standard street goons (which are VERY persistent you can barely get around the block without at least two ambushes: and they have bigger enemies that are in larger groups) but those fights are fairly quick, and pay well!

Majima, meanwhile, can seriously drag out. It's not as bad in the beginning but you'll come up to the end of Kiwami like "please..just one break..I do not have any more healing items."

For RGG'S first game out of the gate, it's good. I enjoyed it more than I expected too. It's all the same elements I love with Yakuza (as I had sapped about in the video) and the characters are recognizable, even in this rougher around the edges stage.

The dub itself is a strange point. As I said, again in the video, I've done some digging on it. The localization is considered decent, (apparently 'hit some balls' is translated as accurately as it could be) but that excessive swearing really shoves it into the 'trying to hard B movie' stuff. HOWEVER.

It has a GOOD cast and there's times where it's done really well. I don't have the kind of professional experience to claim someone is 'phoning in a performance'. I can't make that call. Not all line deliveries are very good, and there's some odd changes between how characters talk from beginning to end. There was one point near the end where Kiryu delivered a couple lines and sounded like a completely different person?? It was odd.

Directing is where it really shows. I feel like with the voices behind it, and the localization team, had it been given better directing, it would've been a bit I guess. stronger? I feel it's important to keep in mind too with it being the first game (and RGG wasn't some triple A studio back in the day either) they did pretty good.

;)

The games good! It's fun, it's recognizable. and I honestly think that if I had gone into Yakuza with this as my first game, I'd still be here. I got into Yakuza via Yakuza 0 and have since gone through the entire series. It's very important and special to me and I genuinely enjoyed Yakuza 1 more than I expected.

I didn't anticipate hating it, of course. But I was still a little surprised regardless since it is so infamous in the fandom. My only regret is that unless you own a PS2 or a really good emulator, so many people can't play it. Which is a shame overall. That's not unique to this and Kiwami, the remake is out there and known. But still. Sometimes I get a little sad about how hard game preservation has gotten.

[wretcheddthing]

7 Comfort Movies

i was tagged by @cuteallo and i’m Watching you.

1) The Mummy (1999): We Know. If you know me you know this. Hold on I’m going to go take a picture of my bumper sticker (you know the one)

I have a poster hanging up in my room. It’s my all time most favorite movie Ever. Plus it just feels like a love letter to classic Universal monsters which I didn’t really Get until my good buddy Jamie got me interested in the history of it while I was doing research for my old radio show. Some of the creative choices and definitely the horror elements were so precisely implemented to mimic classic horror set tropes, like how the moon is always huge and bright and a little too big. And it’s SO quotable. RIDDLED with problems, but Roger Ebert said it best, “There is hardly a thing I can say in its favor, except that I was cheered by nearly every minute of it. I cannot argue for the script, the direction, the acting or even the mummy, but I can say that I was not bored and sometimes I was unreasonably pleased.“

2) Howl’s Moving Castle: I don’t think I need to explain this one. It’s a movie that Radiates comfort. I watched it at least a couple times back to back the last time i got sick.

3) Atlantis: The Lost Empire: This movie is directly responsible (in conjunction with The Mummy and Uncharted) for a full cast of OCs. This movie is part of the reason I’ve taken so many archaeology courses and helped out at a dig site last summer. also in conjunction with the mummy and uncharted

4) Mamma Mia: it reminds me of my mom ;-; i grew up with ABBA because of her, she took me to see this in theaters when it came out. she lives a couple states away now and is currently utilizing her retirement to spend a month abroad and i miss her very much. will probably watch this later

5) Brave: I made myself sad bc i miss my mom. This is one I took her to see in theaters, and let me tell you were there not other people in the theater i would have been openly sobbing. Also it’s just a damn fine movie. It came out around the time I was deeply interested in archery and i am partially Scottish so on the surface it seemed right up my alley. but then the story got me and i cannot watch it without crying

6) Zombieland: Stealing this one from Teagan because hard same. Found family, zombies, reminiscent of Left 4 Dead. Good memories with that game playing it with my older sibling on their XBox 360 whenever they came up to visit :) Also it’s SO HARD to find decent zombie shit now!!! no one gets it! nobody gets it anymore they’re all like “the people are the real monsters” NO. THAT’S NOTHING. THAT’S NOT INTERESTING. USE ZOMBIES AS THE METAPHORICAL TOOL THEY ARE TO ELEVATE HUMAN STORIES. COWARDS.

7) The Martian: It’s my favorite book of all time and as far as movie adaptations go I really don’t think it’s that bad. Mark Watney’s gotta be one of the characters ever made. I read this book every single year now because I related to it at a time I really needed to (see: high school) and the movie is pretty faithful imo. Look I have a drawing for it

anyways i think i made this post too long and i would say it’s bc i’m a film minor but i didn’t say anything really insightful about any of these movies i just like to talk i’m tagging @gilarroyo @olliesaurus-rex @prioriincantatemx @elliewilliams @adairable-dirks @jamiechanga​ and whosoever wishes to participate

[neo-zone]

I saw your post of the whole Giselle post and I have been asking around and reading how people feel about the censorship and how certain fans handle the incident.

I saw you other post about the Kubo interview as from bits and pieces from what I got Kubo said Giselle was originally a man before transitioning and another interview said its how his fans interpret Giselle, but please dont take my word for it that's what I have been seeing and reading. But if you are curious here's a translation. Scroll down on the Bambis

https://missstormcaller.tumblr.com/post/181594990562/bleach-jet-artbook-talk-vol-4-translation

But in your opinion with characters like Yumickia, Giselle, Chizuru, Soi Fon and Charlotte who are trans or lgbtq coded how do you think they were handle? Were they good, decent, could they improved?

Well, okay then. Thanks

Personally it's both decent and could be improved. I like Yumi [except his transphobic line and unnecessary outing, fuck him] (and Charlotte too), he's pretty fun but hella underrated in terms of power and utilization in plot (oh you don't know how disappointed I am with the very lack of Yumi W considering I dig the interesting premise of his power-draining zanpakuto).

Sui (Soi Fon, but I prefer calling her with her Chinese name) fortunately got more depth beyond the "obsessed with Yoruichi-sama" fanon (fucking thanks fillers and omakes) and some cool fights (before being casted aside later on, but hey W is a W).

Chizuru, on the other hand, kinda fell to the "queers are all pervert" stigma on some occasions, which icks me a lot. I need to remind you that queers are not perfect and also not obligated to be good nice innocent etc etc, but pervert is pervert. Doesn't matter the gender or sexuality. (honestly she's ok, but personally I hate how Kubo made her pervert and likes doing non-consensual touchings to others)

Giselle is ... complicated. Decent and could very much be improved. Like, there are so many way to imply her being trans, but no, let's make a queer-coded character outing her in an open space where a lot of people could hear that. Besides, she icks me for being sexually abusive, like bdsm gone wrong without consent, and how it kinda checks on the "queers are pervert" stigma. Such a shame honestly because I like her contrasting personalities and subtle strategist self

You might want to check on this post and the other parts of the series because the account did a good job covering on the topic of queer-coded characters in Bleach.