#but its not really feasible just yet :)
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you know normally i find recasts in film and tv to be really clunky and awkward but i think it works for interview with the vampire. in fact i think claudia should be played by a different actress every season, because i like to think that louis can't quite remember what she looks like, and constant recasts would sort of highlight that.
#like if they bring her back for memnoch the devil or tales of the body theif#i cant remember which one of those shes in?? but if they bring her back for either one#i want that to be yet another different actress#interview with the vampire#im not dragging either actress here btw i think theyre both doing a fantastic job#and i know constant recasts arent really feasible i just think its a neat little idea :)
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which trigun show would you say someone should start on?
depends on what you like i think? if you care a lot about visuals and can easily connect to characters without needing to feel like you Know What’s Going On you’ll probably like stampede, if you care more about plot and like. a more tangible-feeling sense of story and worldbuilding it’s probably best to start with the original
#splashasks#agendercryptidlev#iirc you followed me for danny phantom so you’d probably fall into the first category#mood wise tristamp almost feels like if dp was canonically as horrifying as the fandom made it but still sorta kept up the cheery facade#the characterization so far is actually really good but half of it is like ridiculously subtle and it hides behind the obvious#like there’s a part where vash refuses to kill and eat a bug even though he’s hungry and like#yeah that’s just What He’s Like and you already know by this point#but the way it’s set up in context is actually a really clever nod to the fact that vash is biologically immortal#bc to him if ‘it’s gonna die soon anyway’ was a good enough reason to not care about something he wouldn’t care about humans either#AND the bug is conceptually connected to a child he failed to protect in the previous episode#its a blink and you’ll miss it type of thing and also the much more blatant reference to his pacifism and self-destructive tendencies#feels like it could feasibly be the whole point#also stampede has way more vashwood and way less vashmeryl#but there’s no milly thompson yet and milly is delightful
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I’ve always wondered. Do you write for a living or what is your job if I may ask
Haha no, but gosh that'd be a cool job to have...!
My main job is as an English teacher in Korea; I get contracts to work there for one year at a time. I try to go every other year, since the pay isn't great (it's about $13-$15/hr depending on where you go), and I can save more money getting jobs here with my qualifications. They're typically just your average contract positions in administration or customer support fields.
The job I just started this month is working as a data analyst for a financial group (another contract). When I'm done with my contract, I'll be heading to either Korea or Japan for another year!
I was supposed to have a job set up on January 11th, but it fell through literally the day I was supposed to start. And so the last few months have been a huge scramble trying to find something while my savings very very quickly drained (cost of living here is so stupid expensive :"I ). So needless to say between that and everything else that's happened, I haven't handled the stress well and I've been relying on art and writing commissions to get by!
But I get paid weekly with my analyst position, and I'll get my first real paycheck this Wednesday. It quite literally couldn't have come a moment too soon!!! :"D
But you know what they say, bad things come in three's, so I'm hoping that after three months of bad fortune, April's just gonna blow me out the WATER with good news and good luck!!
#not related#answer#it's a long answer but basically my job varies every year LOL#my end goal is to live in either korea or japan permanently tho...#but its not really feasible just yet :)#so instead i just kind of deal with what ive got and hope it gets easier!
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you kiss the back of my legs and i want to cry
only the sun has come this close, only the sun
gojo satoru x wife!reader; tooth-rotting domestic fluff; gojo LOVERBOY™️ satoru; you aren't any better than him [but less poetic abt the predicament]; tw: pregnancy, 1 tiny mention of throwing up; satoru calls you 'cookie'; and he redefines the word besotted here; his thoughts are also a little yandere-ish but tht's cute, methinks; 2.3k wc; i just wish satoru was real and in my arms rn T-T
belongs to the series 'you make my heart flutter and fibrillate' but can be read as a stand-alone fic if you wanna
the fic title and summary don't rly hv a very strong connection to the fic plot— except the fact they fit both satoru's & reader's characters in this series to a tee ^_^
fic title and summary from 'gps' by shauna barbosa // header frm pinterest // divider by @/benkeibear // jjk isn't mine
you are clingy.
always have been, in fact, now that gojo thinks about it. long before the two of you were married. long before you were engaged. quite a long time before the two of you were anything apart from friends at best, acquaintances at worst.
yet now, as he feels a pair of arms squeeze tighter around his middle, not really still very much squeezing the air out of him— your husband reckons you've grown loads clingier now—
and he loves you for this. loving you even more when he feels kisses being pressed into the space between his shoulder blades.
soft lips, a tad chapped. not without the shy grazing of your teeth.
just how he likes it.
very much how he adores you.
affection, settled deeper than should be feasible into the hollow of his chest, flutters a little when you nuzzle into his back; that pleased little hum of yours quick to follow it. smiling, gojo turns his head a touch to catch a glimpse of you. it takes a beat before you remove your face to lock eyes with him, before returning your face to his back.
he huffs a chuckle, sounding incredibly fond all the same. his feelings for you can never be suppressed anyway. time has proved this to him enough number of times.
he runs a finger down the length of your arm, relishing how it leaves a line of goosebumps in its wake—
"you wanna tell me something, cookie?" your husband finally asks.
your reply doesn't come immediately. and when it does, it is nothing more than a noncommittal noise. too spoiled. too stubborn. a bit too satisfied as well, the emotion further expressed when you nuzzle his back yet again.
gojo's smile grows bigger. his cheeks hurt a little.
he thinks he can live forever with this kind of pain, not even a sigh of complaint ever leaving him.
"aha—" he exclaims loudly, still soft enough to keep the quiet of this sweet bubble you've pulled you both into, "so it's just my irresistible charm that's making you so clingy tonight, hm?"
another beat passes.
and just when he thinks he might have to do with another one of your indistinct sounds for an answer, you speak. to be more precise, whine and grumble, everything so sweet in your adorable voice.
"it's not me being clingy, 'toru— it's the baby— the baby is making me so clingy. making me feel as if i can't live even for one second without squishing you like thisss!!!"
the first reaction your tightening grasp brings out is the wind getting knocked out of his lungs— the second reaction being all that oxygen, nitrogen and carbon dioxide being replaced by a feeling so fierce and so tender— the strongest thinks his knees would have buckled under its weight had he not been lying down but standing—
not that he really minds that, though.
for you, he's always on his knees. whether you ask it of him or not. the only light in this world he is willing to bow his eyes before.
it takes him not too much effort but gojo makes a point of struggling whilst he shifts in your hold. and grins when he finally comes face-to-face with you, drinking in the way your brows are puckered and lips a little parted in an incredulous expression.
his grin simmers down however, when his six eyes notice the spark in your tummy. so tiny. so blinding. so priceless— to him and you both— he knows this, surer than he is of the scars on his palms.
thumbing the hem of your t-shirt, he hums, dragging his eyes back to be drowned in yours, "how many weeks along are you, wifey?"
"satoru," you start, voice turning sharper and just as skeptical as your face was, still is— only to be shushed by a finger to your lips. the man addressed feels his heart skip a beat at your confused big scowl— it's got to be a crime to be as cute as you— really!!!
he pinches your cheek lightly.
"it isn't like i don't remember that, cookie. i just wanted you to say it— c'mon, tell me quickly!" he presses, noting then utilising the moment your face begins to lose its cynical hue over his words.
the scowl lingers there however, twisting your delectably pretty lips—
"nine weeks," you say, hooking a leg over his waist to pull him closer. can he be any closer to you, though? your answer is always a yes, he knows you well enough to know this.
"thirty-one weeks more before we meet our baby."
it's not exactly thirty-one weeks; it's thirty weeks and five days before either of you can meet the baby, but gojo decides not to point out the error. you always hate it when he points out your tiny errors and make a point of snarking about it every time he opens his mouth to speak a word next— the man is wary not to upset his wife, yes, thank you very much.
he offers a sage "hm" in response, one he observes you accept slowly. the scowl lifts itself into a curve so fond— gojo thinks once before he vaults his next query your way. not wanting to see that smile vanish in front of him—
the ask won't cause anything so. but he can never be too sure. he has read too many books and articles to not grasp how fragile pregnancy hormones can make one be.
he tucks a strand of hair behind the shell of your ear.
fingers tarrying there when he sees you lean into his touch— not akin a moth to a bright flame, no. he can never hurt you. not even for once in his wildest dreams—
but how the north pole of a magnet hurries towards the south pole of another magnet. so different in their nature, a perfect pair of opposite crafted by the nature— maybe that's why nothing can ever stop them from rushing to each other once they're proximated, the lines of their mutual attraction existing even when thousands of miles apart.
just like you and him.
contrasting, complementing, completing each other every instant, in every facet of life.
he lets his fingers dance through the tangles in your hair, unravelling the knots in there. that pleased little hum of yours reaches him once again.
stowing the sound away, later to be placed on a pedestal in an ornate glass case as the most valuable praise ever given to him for his effort, he runs a gentle hand, nails scratching your scalp carefully.
"and at nine weeks old, just how big might our baby be?"
"i think there is a chart comparing our baby's size to fruits..." syllables unhurried and a pinch mumbled, you press your heel to draw him in a little more. "i did not really read that too attentively— oh. but. yeah!" a grin forms on your features, sleepy still twinkling in excitement.
"shoko sent me a link to this website earlier today— any ideas, 'toru, what it might be about?"
gojo does have an idea. he has a very, very good idea.
but he chooses not to say that aloud. you look so extremely adorable when you are being this excited. he would hate nothing more than to see your amped up self getting interrupted by him.
he shakes his head. your grin brightens. eyes crinkling with a glint, he can tell even without looking, is knowing.
the tips of your fingers caress his bare back, softer than a breath. "it's about when our baby forms which organs— our baby's eyes are being formed now!!! isn't that too cute, 'toru?"
"it is, cookie," he hums without any hesitation, six eyes activating one more time to zero in on that teeny-tiny spark. then deactivating when he looks back up to your sleepy eyes. a terribly tickled, equally wicked glimmer creeps into his grin. "so our baby is just like a tiny ball of cells with two big blue eyes, huh? they must look so scary, heh— ouch!"
your pinch did not really pain him, but gojo does his best to mimic an awfully wounded puppy, sogging wet from the rain and waiting at the doorstep with his moving blue eyes— it takes less than three seconds before you let go of your glare with a sigh.
you massaging the sore spot on his arm, your husband watches you give yet another sigh.
"first of all, there's no guarantee our baby will have your eye color and not mine, 'toru," you explain, pinning him under your drowsy stare, "it is very difficult to predict that for sure— and secondly: i'll punch you if you ever call our baby scary— sure, they don't really look like a human in this moment, but they'll slowly get there in forty weeks— as per the website, their face, hands and feet are forming in the ninth—"
"okay, alright!! i get your point, my insanely smart, insanely beautiful, insanely sexy wife," gojo cuts in, smiling while warning bells chime in his head at the faintest gloss in your eyes—
but maybe they weren't noisy enough. that is why he doesn't bite his tongue, rather continuing, "but you weren't actually blaming our poor human-ey baby for your clinginess, were you? it's not like they have a telepathic communication set up with you— hell, maybe they haven't even started forming their brain!"
"the baby's brain starts forming by the fifth week, satoru," your quiet reply reaches him exactly when he gets his last giggle out. the moist sheen in your eyes grows more prominent.
and his insides begin to twist—
one-third helpless. two-thirds contrite.
you don't stop talking, tone lower than he has heard you use in nearly forever, "and you better not comment on my bond with our baby— i'll punch you twice if you—"
"i wasn't doing that and i promise to never make you feel that way, my cutie-pie cookie," gojo interrupts, voice far gentler than earlier, just as low as yours, "but feel free to throw me out the house if i ever do that, even accidentally. okay?"
you're not okay.
you never are, when it comes to you being actually harsh to him, even when he's the one asking you to be— shakespeare once called love to be blind— your husband doesn't think you're blind, however. it is your well-contemplated decision to see his mistakes and see each of them as excusable, perfectly pardonable, no matter how silly or serious the world might regard them to be—
you make a noise. somewhat annoyed. unhappy too, yeah. before you push your face into the crook of his neck, nose nuzzling into the flesh there.
you would have bitten him by now. but he reckons you might be a bit too tired for all that. you couldn't even finish your dinner before facing the urge to throw up tonight, yet again.
feeling sorry, almost, gojo resumes his ministrations to your hair, half because you need to fall asleep now; the hands on the clock are close to striking midnight. the other half because he just loves playing with your hair— only to still when you suddenly pull your head back.
brows furrowed as you peer at him, eyes big and earnest.
"you don't really mind when i hug you like this, do you, 'toru?"
"no, cookie!! of course not!!" the man wastes not even a breath before he rushes to explain— because seriously, what!??
sure, he wasn't the first one to fall between you two. but ever since he did fall, he has never not expressed how every second away from you, every fraction of an instant away from you, causes him pain.
and yeah, he might have been a tad too dramatic whilst doing so, but you've always been so good at reading him— then why on earth can't you read him now? why don't you read, he loves it when you seek him out, he loves you more than anyone and anything else??
"good," your satisfied little chirp gives him a light shove away from his frantic thoughts. something tells him he should be put on alert by the way your lips curve into a smug smile next.
but gojo finds himself uncaring. just immensely relieved as he trails his fingers from the back of your head to your chin. thumb reaching out to brush the corner of your infectious smile. you continue.
"but even if you did mind, sorry not sorry— you were the one who put the ring on my finger, so you have to deal with everything i'm, mister!! no refunds nor complaints can be filed here, gojo-san~"
and neither refunds nor complaints he wishes to file, satoru muses to himself as he cups your cheek in one hand. bending down to steal the taste of your beam, your tease, your love for him on his tongue—
not when he has received the world in exchange for letting go of that poor splintered mess of a heart, he used to call his, but is now yours.
and will always stay yours—
"hey 'toru— what will you do if i chomp on your fingers right now, like really hard? will you yell? or will you be the freak that you're and enjoy it, huh?"
gojo pauses.
and wonders.
is there any binding vow one can make to secure oneself to another in every lifetime, for all eternity?
he hopes there is.
your husband really, seriously hopes there is—
'cause no way in heaven, earth or hell, does gojo satoru want to let go of you— and he will not let go of you.
this idea was ROTTING in my brain for ages, but wht gave me the spark– the boost to write this was the wonderful sukuna fic written by ari @twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat ❤️❤️❤️ i seriously love u & ur writings sm, babes 🥹🥹 everyone pls go check their masterlist out. it's studded w diamonds and pearls 😌😌🥰
and this is also for my sweet & sour bestie mimi @avatarofstars 🤭🤭— u 🤝 me in being clingy af towards our fictional hubbies 😂😂🥰
hope this was an enjoyable read! pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this ❤️❤️
masterlist
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hey guess who’s absolutely losing it over the stan twins again (spoiler alert its me)
so i was innocently scrolling tiktok when i was introduced to this DIABOLICAL au idea: firstly, what if ford really had shot stan with his crossbow when stan first showed up at the shack? and secondly, what if ford tried to bring him back to life frankenstein-style? (full credit to tiktok user @44boora for this idea, go check their account for some gut-wrenching art) (also… full post below the cut this got long)
but like i was thinking about this, ford bringing stan back to life specifically, and how dependent the concept is on this specific time in his life. i just feel like any other time and under any other circumstance, ford would have been able to, eventually, accept stan’s death. we see it at the end of weirdmageddon, where ford is ready to accept that the stan they all know and love is gone now that his memory has been erased. he tells mabel as much, and only realizes there’s hope for him when mabel is determined enough to push back against ford’s logic. ford believes very intensely in his own perception of the world. he believes in science. theoretically, he believes death is death, and there’s nothing he can do to change that.
but then, think of ford after he’s been betrayed by bill. this ford is at his absolute lowest. he can’t trust his own perception of the world anymore. he’s seen the truth of what their relationship was and the horrors he was so close to unleashing on their universe. he is desperate to right his wrongs. he’s losing sleep, his body is abused every time he closes his eyes, and the end of the world as he knows it is iminent if he doesn’t succeed in making the portal as secure and unusable as possible without dismantling it entirely. the only person he believes he can trust after everything that’s happened is stan. so he contacts him for help, and in his time waiting for him to arrive, cannot stop thinking of the worst-case scenario: that bill could still be coming for him. so when he opens the door to stan, his high-strung, paranoid brain doesn’t see stan, and he shoots.
he shoots his own brother with a crossbow and kills him.
ford is not usually one to blatantly ignore a scientific fact. again, death is death, and there’s nothing he can do about that. and yet, in a state of such intense grief, when his entire world is already close to crumbling around him and he’s holding his dead brother in his arms, there’s nothing else he can feasibly do but deny. so he does.
he lives in denial of a lot of things. that stan’s death is final, obviously, but also his reasonings for attempting to do the impossible and revive him. ford likes to believe he operates purely on logic, so he tells himself he’s doing this because he has to. without stan, he can’t prevent bill from entering their universe. he’s still the only person ford can trust, so reviving him is another step in his ultimate goal of stopping bill and saving the world. it doesn’t matter that its never been done before, ford will do it anyway. and he believes that he can, because as much as he thinks he’s moved on from his hubris, he’s still acting off the assumption that he’s special. he’s so far ahead of everybody else, so naturally, if anybody could accomplish the impossible and bring stan back from the dead, its ford.
and so he denies that the real reason he’s trying to save stan is not a logical one. he denies that he’s running entirely on emotions. it would be foolish to try something so risky and impossible and time-consuming if he were only doing it because of his crushing guilt and decade-long yearning, so he tells himself there’s so much more to it than that. he can’t just be doing this because he loves him, right? he’s not that shallow. he’s not that desperate.
and yet, he is. because as much as ford wants to deny it, he can’t live without stan. he can’t live with the knowledge that he was responsible for stan’s death. if he didn’t succeed, his grief would surely kill him.
#this concept is consuming my every waking thought#there’s just something so… cathartic? about their roles being reversed and ford saving stan#i feel like so many people downplay just how much ford loves him#the amount of times ford mentioned stan in his journal? UGH.#and that’s just journal 3!!! and only the things he wrote down!!#imagine how often he must have thought of him… he holds stan and his childhood so dear its devastating#there’s no question in my mind that ford would pull a victor fucking frankenstein just to see his brother again#i’m so devastated about this#ripping my hair out#gravity falls#stanford pines#ford pines#stanford#stanley pines#stan pines#ford and stan#stangst#stanford pines analysis#analysis#gravity falls au#frankenstein au
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The inside of a Door looks like however the Lair Owner wants right?
And? Presumably, the stronger and older the ghost, the larger the Lair the could feasibly create? Not so much because its a show of power itself. But because it takes time to build things and ectoplasm to build WITH. You can't just go to the shop for that couch. You have to will it into existence.
Which also, in and of itself, takes practice.
And? Yeah, maybe most people don't really DO that much? They get a studio apartment and go "meh, good enough"? Maybe add a room or two if they REALLY need it? But OTHERS?
Others would go full minecraft.
You would NEVER be able to tell you were in the Zone from inside that Lair. Much less FIND the doorway out. You've been flying for days. Have you hit the edge yet? Nope. Can you even SEE the walls? Also no. You are... Hella lost. Pls help.
Why do I say this?
Because there are PESTS in Bethany's tranquility garden! Vermin! Disgusting little HUMANS with their FLESHY MEATS and ORGANS just walking around TOUCHING THINGS! They made WASTE PITS in her Lair! WASTE PITS!!! Granted, that's better then spreading it about... and YES, she acknowledges, it HAS been days and they ARE disturbing little meat creatures... BUT STILL!
Your Majesty! Please! They're UNSANITARY! Eating her plants! Touching things with their WEIRD LITTLE MEAT HANDS! Make it stooooop! *sobs in ghost dryad*
Smash cut to said "Vermin"?
Come party in GOTHAM they said! It'll be great PR, they said! You'll HAVE FUN, THEY SAID! Bullshit. Bruce was right and even HE isn't happy about it. At least Diana has had decades of Magical Weirdness training and can take point.
Constantine is still unconscious. Thankfully not concussed, just drained from being used as a battery to force them all HERE.
Well, all things considered, at least the forest is... weirdly tranquil. And glowing.
@hdgnj @hypewinter @nerdpoe @the-witchhunter
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ughhhhhhhhhhh!!!!! I loved your soulmate superman au. Okay here me out!!! How would Clark react if the reader in his soulmate au grew up in Smallville too. As someone who also live in a small town there are people who have lived here my entire life and I have never met or seen before, so its entirely possible for the reader and Clark to have never locked eyes or meet before.
So Clark ask the reader where they grew up and there like "oh Smallville you probably never heard of it" lmao. Just imagine two soulmates living in small town together, where everyone knows everyone and not ever interacting once, until they leave there small town into the big city with millions of people and by the grace of God and end up working in the same building together
I'm hearing you out, and I like it! I also grew up in a super small town — like, less than 6,000 people small, and there were definitely people in that town I didn't know and couldn't point out to you today.
I like this idea a lot for the au, too. Especially because Clark already came from as far away as somebody could feasibly get. It doesn't really matter where on Earth you were born, because he isn't from Earth to begin with.
And yet, of all the places you could've been born, it was Smallville. Where Clark crash-landed. Where he was raised by two loving humans.
You grew up where he did. You moved to the same big city he did. You have been in his life, however peripherally, almost the whole time.
If that isn't fate, what is? Clark is a big, soft romantic at heart. To him, it would just emphasize how much he was meant to be yours.
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i feel like if ace's UM does end up just allowing him to copy other's UM, it would solve a potential problem which is malleus putting everyone into a state of sleep. like they told us that it would only be lifted if malleus either lifts it up on his own or if he dies and idt twst would kill off a major and VERY popular character. but if they give ace that ability as his UM it would solve that in a way?
but if they do give that to ace as his UM i hope that ace would struggle to copy people's abilities, or at least kinda go through the emotions the original spell caster felt when theyre using their UM or when they first awoken it. maybe like a price to pay to use other's abilities but thats just me HAHAHHA
Yeeeah, that's what I was thinking too. I can't imagine Ace's UM being anything but a UM borrowing/mimicry spell right now (due to his own propensity to easily learn new skills and do vocal impressions)... It would also just be really useful for the end of book 7, since the briar barrier can only be taken down with Malleus's death or with Malleus willingly removing his magic. Given Malleus's stubbornness and being in such an emotional state, I really doubt he'd be able to come to his senses even all these hundreds of parts later. I really doubt whether all of our powers combined can take him down either, given his track record of being so stupidly OP. And it for sure wouldn't be a good move on the Twst devs' part to kill off such a money maker and significant part of their marketing for their series. (I do want to point out, however, that Malleus's insane popularity is exclusive to the international/English-speaking part of the fandom; he is not a top contender in JP and I would say has more of a middling status.) Having someone else reproduce his UM could very easily resolve this issue, but I guess that's also highly dependent on if Ace can get a grip on his UM that fast, or if he can even feasibly iron out the kinks of controlling what is probably a very complex spell. Epel, who got his UM most recently in book 6, still seems to have only a 70-80% success rate with his, so it's possible that Ace doesn't fully master his UM even if he gets it as soon as his own dream. I definitely don't think Ace would be able to use his (theoretical) copying UM to its full extent ASAP, as then we could just cut the dreams short right then and there. I feel like it'd become more relevant during the actual OB Malleus showdown or something. In general, there'd have to be come kind of drawback or limitations to his UM even if he got used to casting it at some point (just for power balancing reasons). Maybe there's a cooldown period, or he can only use the UM as much as his imagination will allow, or maybe it requires that he be able to empathize with the feelings of the original mage.
... Oh, you know what??? That might actually tie book 7 up quite nicely! If Ace's UM allows him to copy the UMs of other mages but only with the stipulation that he must empathize or relate to how they were acting when the original mage used their UM... Wouldn't that mean that Ace has to understand Malleus's loneliness and the fear of being left behind by his loved ones??? ACE CAN ACTUALLY PERFECTLY RELATE TO THAT because he was in denial mode that Yuu would be going home earlier in book 7. On top of that, he's probably also harboring shame for making fun of Deuce so much, only to be the one who doesn't have his UM yet. Ace can totally relate to what Malleus is going through 👀 He'd be forced to confront his denial of his own emotional vulnerability because he sees Malleus displaying the very same behaviors.
Maybe Ace gets his UM early on but has no idea how to use it properly until it comes in clutch in the final battle because he realizes (at last) how Malleus is feeling. Then it’s Ace who becomes the trump card that lets us triumph…! And that brings us full-circle—the final boss being beaten by the first student that we met, our first friend… Ace Trappola 🫶
#I hate how much sense this makes#disney twisted wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland#disney twst#Ace Trappola#Malleus Draconia#book 7 spoilers#notes from the writing raven#jp spoilers#Epel Felmier#Deuce Spade#book 5 spoilers#book 6 spoilers
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you don't actually get to cry "ally yourself with trans women" while actively talking over trans women whose traumatic experiences with transmisogyny are wildly ignored in favor of how hard transmisogyny is on the cis women. like why don't trans women get to say privilege plays into how much transmisogyny affects people?
do we not characterize white privilege as being what protects white americans from the systematic racism that permeates the US?
again, what is the preferred way you would have us refer to that privilege? because I am right here telling you that privilege is a part of the construct of tme/tma but you don't really care that trans women are more affected.
like it's crazy that you seem to think my problem is with the transvestigation playing out against a cis woman and not the way everyone pays attention when it happens to cis women but ignores the rampant transmisogyny when it happens to a trans woman. like you don't even pause to look at why there were no trans women at the olympics to transvestigate in the first place so they turned to the next marginalized option, intersex and women of color, when discussing how trans women deserve better.
Hi I'm the trans woman I deserve better from you specifically
To be completely honest this is looking less and less like a good faith discussion and more and more like you simply accusing me of stuff I didn't say.
You say I am actively talking over trans women. How so? How is "we need to address transmisogyny at its root if we want things to be better" ignoring the plight of trans women?
How is it that I have *repeatedly* acknowledged that there is privilege there, and yet apparently I am ignoring it?
if you want to use the race example: white privilege exists. Racism also affects white people. If white people want to stop being affected by racism (welfare regulations, the war on drugs, low income housing, social programs for community aid, to name a few) then maybe they should ally themselves with people of color because the root of what's causing issues with these things is racism. That doesn't mean white privilege doesn't exist just because a system of oppression affects everyone under said system. It doesn't even mean that the primary target has changed. It's just what makes this a system rather than an individual occurrence.
Never once have I said that cis women are more affected and, in fact, in followup posts I have stated that it *is* quite annoying that people have only been talking about this because this year's Olympics included approximately 0 out trans women. I have been saying that this was the clear end result, once they were rid of the trans women they'd go for whatever cis women they could feasibly get away with, and this time it seems they overplayed their hand.
Castor Semenya is a cis woman who only found out that she is intersex due to being transvestigated. She is, by definition, TME. Except she's not, is she, considering the same rules that apply to trans women apply to her. That's why I brought her up! And- correct me if I'm wrong- but out trans women still competed after she was forced to leave the Olympic running. That is why I'm saying that things maybe are not quite so clear cut as "have" and "have not", because I can point to an example of someone that the definition labels as "has privilege" that according to Olympic ruling bodies no longer counts as a woman either despite being afab TME cis.
If you want to continue to put words in my mouth, then we're out of things to say to each other, and it becomes clear that this was never intended to be a good faith discussion in the first place.
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"You Weren't Loyal To Me": How Crosshair's Brothers Absolutely Failed Him in "The Bad Batch" Season 1
I know I'm not the first person to make these arguments, but after recently rewatching "The Bad Batch" Season 1, I feel compelled to play Devil's Advocate and assert that Crosshair's brothers absolutely failed him in Season 1.
Now, don't mistake me. I don't believe Crosshair was 100% in the right. Once he regained his free will -- whether he actually removed his inhibitor chip, or whether his injury on Bracca deactivated it or lessened its impacts -- he definitely should've left the Empire the first chance he had.
I imagine he was trying to make the best of a bad situation, but I don't see why he would stay with an organization hijacked his mind and ordered him to kill his family, civilians and other people who were trying to do the right thing.
But, I don't think his brothers -- I'm excluding Omega because she's a child and was following everyone else's lead -- are 100% in the right either.
I believe Crosshair's brothers basically abandoned him.
CROSSHAIR'S GREAT INSECURITY?
Now, I understand that they didn't initially plan to abandon Crosshair. But, once they knew he was being mind-controlled and especially once they knew how to undo its effects, they never even considered going back for him.
We never see them debate trying to save Crosshair. They don't discuss whether it's feasible, whether it's worth the risk, how they would even attempt it, etc.
I think this was a much-needed moment that we never get to see. In fact, as others have pointed out, we don't really get much discussion about Crosshair at all.
He's their brother. He's been by their side from infancy through their time as cadets through dozens of missions. Why aren't they more upset about him turning against them? Or being mind-controlled by the Empire?
They seem so blasé about it. Like it's more of an inconvenience than a tragedy, especially by 1.12 "Rescue on Ryloth." Like "Ope, Crosshair's here. I bet he's gonna try to kill us again."
As I'll discuss more later, Hunter gets captured on Daro, and Omega loses her frickin' mind. Even Echo, Wrecker and Tech seemed distressed too, even if the show didn't focus on their reactions as much.
But, Crosshair's mind and body get hijacked by the Empire, and nobody seems to give a shit.
No wonder why Crosshair felt so betrayed and said everything he does in 1.15 and 1.16. It probably confirmed something he always felt, or always feared:
That he was the odd man out in his squad -- the last to be included and the first to be excluded.
That they never cared about him as much as he cared about them.
Based on experiences in my own life, with friends and coworkers, I do wonder if Crosshair was always insecure about his standing within the group. This makes sense given that he's likely the youngest of the four original brothers, and that as a sniper, he isn't always in the middle of the action like they are. His personality doesn't really help either, but his brothers seem to be able to navigate it just fine in their "The Clone Wars" Season 7 arc.
Maybe this is partly why he seemed OK with Echo joining the squad at the end of TCW arc: because he felt like Echo would become the new 'odd man' considering that he didn't grow up with the Bad Batch and wouldn't know Crosshair's brothers like he does.
It's been a while since I watched TCW Season 7, so maybe I'm wrong.
But, I definitely think this is partly why he resents Omega so much in Season 1:
The Bad Batch -- mainly Hunter -- decided to risk their lives and their freedom to go back to Kamino for Omega. She might've been their "little sister," but they'd known her all of one day and Hunter still decided it was worth going back for her.
Yet they never went back for him.
Hell, as far as we the audience know, they never even considered it.
I'm not saying it would have been easy or risk-free. They also now have Omega in their care, and trying to extract Crosshair from Imperial custody while all parties involved would be trying to kill or capture them isn't an easy undertaking.
But, as I'll talk about more later, these guys do rescue and extraction missions all the time. They put their lives on the line for complete strangers several times in Season 1 to save them from Imperial custody, slavery, etc.
And I'm not saying they were wrong to do those things. It was objectively good that the Bad Batch saved the people they did.
But, I can absolutely understand why Crosshair would be infuriated that his brothers take on all these missions to help complete strangers but never bother to help him...
ANALYZING THE BATCH'S DECISIONS BASED ON THE SEASON 1 TIMELINE
I understand that, before he confronts them in the hangar in 1.01 "Aftermath," that they were planning to go back for him. And that they were forced to leave him behind because he was literally gunning for them. And -- as far as his brothers knew -- he was doing it of his own free will.
However, in 1.02 "Cut and Run," Omega tells them about the inhibitor chips, implying that that's how Crosshair is being controlled.
Then in 1.03 "The Replacements," we see that Tech is building a device to locate their inhibitor chips, and Omega tries to tell the Batch and specifically emphasizes to Hunter that Crosshair has no control over his actions. Hunter admits that he's angry at himself for leaving Crosshair behind, and Omega reassures him that they'll get him back someday.
So, it seems like -- at least in Omega's eyes -- the Batch was planning to save Crosshair at some point. And, Hunter at minimum feels guilty for leaving Crosshair on Kamino, even though they didn't really have much of a choice at the time.
However, the Batch gets sidetracked in 1.04 and 1.05. First, they need supplies; then bounty hunters are after Omega; then they need intel on who's after her and why.
Then, by the events of 1.07 "Battle Scars," we see that they've fallen into a routine of doing jobs for Cid. It's safe to assume they've done -- or at least attempted -- a dozen jobs for her at this point, based on Wrecker and Omega's 20 orders of Mantell Mix.
And then Rex shows up and tells them point-blank that the clones can't fight the inhibitor chip's effects, re-emphasizing Omega's earlier point that Crosshair had no control over his actions.
The Batch then experiences this firsthand with Wrecker, whose chip activates before they can extract it. We see that, even with Wrecker fighting the chip's effects with all his might, he endangers his brothers and was *this* close to killing Omega, before Rex stunned him.
Now, we have confirmation based on both Rex and Wrecker's experiences that removing an active chip restores a clone's free will.
Thus, by the end of 1.07 "Battle Scars," the Batch definitively knows:
Crosshair is being controlled by an inhibitor chip and is being forced to do the Empire's bidding;
How to remove an inhibitor chip; and
That removing a clone's active inhibitor chip will restore his free will
And yet, despite all this knowledge, the only effort they make to save Crosshair is to tell him about the inhibitor chip.
They don't attempt or even discuss possibly stunning him on the artillery deck and taking him with them.
But, admittedly, this isn't the best time to attempt a rescue, as they're outnumbered and essentially trapped aboard the Jedi Cruiser. And then Omega gets captured by Cad Bane and Hunter gets shot, and the others are desperately trying to get off Bracca before Crosshair & co. shoot them down. Fine. Getting off Bracca safely and then trying to find Omega should be their priority.
But, once they recover Omega on Bora Vio, and their lives aren't in immediate danger anymore... this would've been the perfect time to at least debate going back for Crosshair.
Again, they have all the information needed at this point.
As for how they find him, well, I'm sure they could get the information somehow. Or they could just cause a stir somewhere so he'd show up to arrest them again, like he did on Bracca.
But, no, they just continue doing jobs for Cid in 1.10-1.13. They don't bring him up at all until they see him on Ryloth in 1.12 "Rescue on Ryloth," and again, the tone is like, "Well, Crosshair is here. That's annoying."
If not being able to locate him was the only reason they didn't try to save him after 1.08/1.09, that argument doesn't apply to 1.12 "Rescue on Ryloth." He's there. They know he's there. They're already there doing an extraction job anyway... why don't they just grab him too???
Yes, there would be additional risks, but YOUR BROTHER HAS BEEN KIDNAPPED BY THE EMPIRE AND FORCED TO DO ITS BIDDING, AND YOU DON'T SEEM TO GIVE A SHIT!!!
Which brings us nicely to:
THE DOUBLE STANDARD
Throughout Season 1, but especially in the latter half, we see The Batch putting themselves in harm's way for complete strangers, or at most, friends-of-friends.
They rescue Muchi the Rancor and other people from enslavers; they extract the former Separatist Senator from Raxus; they extract the Syndullas from Ryloth; they break Gregor out of the Imperial base on Daro.
In the latter three cases, the Batch went to Imperial-occupied planets and an Imperial base, despite all the risks involved. And, especially when they saved Gregor, they had very little information going in and basically just winged the entire thing.
It just feels like, when you look at all these cases, any argument the Batch could make for not saving Crosshair just falls apart.
"We didn't know where he was." He was on Ryloth -- grab him then.
"We didn't have enough information." You didn't on Daro, and you still snuck into a heavily fortified Imperial base to rescue Gregor.
"Everyone there would've been trying to kill us." You literally extract/rescue people from Imperial forces for a living...
"It would've endangered Omega." Well, buddy, have I got a story for you...
You see, when Hunter falls on Daro and gets captured, the Batch still comes to his rescue despite knowing it's a trap AND THEY BRING OMEGA WITH THEM!!!
Every excuse they could've made for not saving Crosshair sooner is gone. The Batch will literally run into a trap for Hunter, and they constantly throw themselves into danger to save Omega, but they never do the same for Crosshair.
It really feels like such a double standard.
They seem to care about everyone BUT him.
Plus, sadly, there's one more parallel I can draw. One more instance where the Bad Batch put themselves in harm's way to save a fellow clone who was being mind-controlled by their enemies in an attempt to kill them...
Echo.
Yes, remember all the way back in TCW Season 7, when we find out that Echo is the one behind the algorithm that's giving the Separatists an advantage in all these battles?
Even though Rex thought Echo was dead, the minute he suspects Echo's still alive, he goes after him. He even punches Crosshair over it, after Crosshair bullies Rex for leaving Echo for dead at the Citadel.
One of the "regs" went back for his brother despite knowing he was being mind-controlled by the enemy and forced to attack them.
Rex, Anakin and the Bad Batch save Echo from a terrible fate. They extract him from the Separatists, restore his free will and essentially give him his life back.
Yet, when the exact same thing happens to one of their own, the Batch don't even consider going back for Crosshair the way Rex went back for Echo -- hell, the way they went in for Echo too, even though they didn't know him!!
SOME CONSIDERATIONS
I will give the Batch this: once Crosshair confronts them on Kamino and Hunter stuns him, Hunter decides not to leave Crosshair behind this time. And that was even after Crosshair refused to say when he had his chip removed. So, for all they know, he might've been acting of his own free will when he tried to kill them on Bracca.
While taking Crosshair with them at the end of 1.15 was a step in the right direction, I don't think it was enough to make up for everything they failed to do.
And, while he doesn't specify exactly what, Hunter later admits to Crosshair in 3.05 "The Return" that he has regrets too. And considering the context and the timeframe they're talking about, it's possible Hunter regrets not going back for Crosshair sooner/at all, among other mistakes he's made. (Story for another time.)
I'll also give some consideration to Wrecker, who was the only one of the brothers who said he actively missed Crosshair in 1.03 "The Replacements." Tech mentions Crosshair very flippantly a few times, and Echo doesn't really mention him at all.
(EDIT: Looking back now, Echo *not* talking about Crosshair is such a weird choice. Shouldn’t he of all people know what it’s like to be mind-controlled? To be weaponized by your enemy and forced to kill your loved ones?)
(ANOTHER EDIT: I was rewatching 1.14 “War-Mantle” today and this line stood out to me:
Echo: If there’s a chance that trooper is being held against his will, we have to try to get him out.
I realize that being imprisoned is different than being mind-controlled and actively hunting down you down, but it’s still weird that Echo of all people doesn’t seem to give a flying eff about Crosshair’s situation while practically begging Hunter to rescue a clone they’ve never met.🧐)
Obviously, we'll never know for certain, but I do wonder how Crosshair would've reacted if his brothers had rescued him and removed his chip at some point. Would he have stayed with them? Would he have wanted to rejoin the Empire voluntarily?
Considering he (supposedly) had his chip removed and still stayed with the Empire willingly in-universe, it's possible he might've wanted to do the same thing in an AU where his brothers rescued him.
He definitely despised that they were fugitives and "scavenging like rats," while he had authority, respect and purpose as a soldier of the Empire.
But, I think a large component -- although not the only one -- of why he stays with the Empire is that he felt like his brothers abandoned him. He brings this up several times in 1.15 and 1.16, and the way he does indicates this is a major sore spot for him.
We see in 1.01 "Aftermath" that the chip enhancement procedure is painful. He scrunches his face, flexes his hand and squirms around in the chamber. Plus, the machine itself looks similar to the Mind Flayer from other "Star Wars" properties.
Crosshair was literally being tortured by the Empire. Maybe he doesn't recall that once the procedure's done, but we see him getting his chip enhanced in both 1.01 and 1.03, and it's possible it was enhanced even more times off-screen.
I cannot stress this enough: the Empire basically took Crosshair prisoner, tortured him and hijacked his free will.
And his brothers essentially did nothing to save him.
It would be one thing if his brothers were civilians like you and me, and didn't know the first thing about how to infiltrate an Imperial compound or how to navigate a firefight despite being outnumbered.
But, that doesn't apply to The Bad Batch. That's literally their bread-and-butter.
And Crosshair -- especially once he seems to regain his free will between the Bracca and Ryloth arcs -- watched his brothers risk their lives to save complete strangers while doing nothing for him.
I would've been livid too.
Not to sound like Tech, but while I don't agree with Crosshair's decision, I can understand why he decided to stay on Kamino rather than go with them at the end of 1.16. His brothers offered him no real comfort and no real apology, and I think he desperately wanted to hear that, especially from Hunter.
I know after everything that's happened -- especially Crosshair refusing to say when he had his chip removed -- that it would've been hard to admit their mistakes. But, Crosshair wanted to hear something beyond: "You can come with us if you want. And if you don't, we don't have to be enemies."
The closest thing to comfort any of them offer is Omega affirming that, despite everything, she still cared about him. This seems to be the only thing that really effects him, that causes him to doubt his decision, that causes him to show any kind of emotion beyond anger.
I legitimately believe that if someone had talked to Crosshair one-on-one for like five minutes, and really showed how much they still cared about him and always did, that he would've rejoined them.
Granted, it's really hard to tell.
Crosshair has, as Tech said, always been severe and unyielding. Plus, he really suffers from this "in for a penny, in for a pound" kind of mindset, which is partly why he stays with the Empire for so long even after regaining his free will.
But the fact that all his brothers leave him on Kamino again so effortlessly, so easily is just tragic. No final goodbye. No hug. No nothing.
For all any of them know, this could be the last time they ever see each other. (And, for Tech and Crosshair, it was.)
I know it wouldn't have been easy after everything that's happened, but for crying out loud, I just wanted them to try.
And I imagine Crosshair did too.
IN CONCLUSION
Honestly, I think the TBB writers and producers purposely never gave us a scene of The Batch debating whether to go after Crosshair, or a scene of them outlining to us the audience why it wasn't possible even though they wanted to.
I think the creative team wanted us to sympathize with Crosshair when he says "You weren't loyal to me," while also arguably giving our protagonists a weakness to overcome later.
This really seems like the case if we look at Season 2.
Once the Batch finds out Crosshair's being detained by the Empire's Advanced Science Division in 2.14 "Tipping Point," they immediately start discussing whether and why they should try to save him, even after everything that happened between them in S1.
On top of that, this time they actually decide to do whatever it takes to get him back, despite limited intel and the imminent danger behind such an undertaking.
I think the Batch genuinely learned from their mistakes in Season 1 and, as Hunter maybe alludes to in 3.05 "The Return," regretted not going back for Crosshair sooner/at all after the Empire started controlling him.
I'll admit: I think when I first watched Season 1, I was basically in the Batch's corner. Crosshair was gunning for them at every opportunity, and Omega's well-being quickly became their priority (understandably so).
But, after rewatching Season 1 -- especially now that the show is over and we see how everyone's arcs play out -- it really hits me just how much Crosshair's brothers failed him in Season 1.
Again, I'm not saying Crosshair didn't make mistakes too. He definitely did.
But Crosshair's brothers failed him first.
AN ADDENDUM
(EDIT/UPDATE:) Since writing the above, I've stumbled across a few other posts of people making the counterargument, saying they believe Hunter was in the right and don't appreciate the hate he gets for not going back for Crosshair.
People are more than welcome to make that argument. I think that kind of debate just shows how nuanced this show and its characters are, because you can make valid arguments for both sides.
And to clarify, I don't hate Hunter (and the others) for not going back for Crosshair in S1. As Hunter says later in 3.05: "Nobody really understood what was happening back then." It was a chaotic time -- for the galaxy and their family.
In the span of one episode, the Jedi are exterminated; the war ends; the Republic is reorganized into the Empire; the clones' future role in the galaxy is questioned; and when CF99 refuse to kill civilians, they're declared traitors and arrested.
And to top it all off, Crosshair is acting strange AND they find out they have a little sister who's in danger.
So, when Crosshair seemingly betrays them, and they barely escape with their lives, it's understandable that the Batch's first move is just to get their bearings and figure out their next steps.
And, of course, all the dominoes fall from there.
So, while I definitely don't hate him and I understand why they don't go back for Crosshair initially, I am disappointed in Hunter.
If the writers wanted me to be on his side and understand that it was basically impossible to go back for Crosshair, then I needed a scene showing/telling me why they can't. Or I at least needed a scene proving that they care about him, because based on what we actually got in Season 1, I tend to fall on Crosshair's side when he argues his brothers didn't care about him the way they clearly care about Hunter when he's captured.
You can certainly make arguments that, because Crosshair's their brother and he knows all their strategies, strengths, weaknesses, etc., that he's even more dangerous than all the other Imperials they might face. Yes, definitely. I argue that's all the more reason to try to save him.
Yes, there would be risks. But, if you succeed, not only do you lose a very dangerous enemy -- one who knows you inside and out -- but you would (hopefully) regain a teammate.
Imagine you're in Hunter's shoes and your sibling -- or if you don't have one, a really good friend who feels like a sibling -- gets taken captive and mind-controlled by an evil organization. Wouldn't you try your damnedest to get them out? Or at the very least, wouldn't you be sad about their situation?
Rewatching 1.03 "The Replacements," there's an interesting scene that's probably the closest we get to a real discussion about Crosshair -- how they feel about him, whether they miss him, whether he really betrayed them or was being influenced by the chip.
@laughhardrunfastbekindsblog did a great analysis of each character's reaction, which I recommend you read at some point.
I want to take a quick look at it too, starting with the brothers looking at Omega with Crosshair's weapon kit like she just knocked over Grandma's urn or something.
It feels like, for the first time, they're starting to let themselves process what really happened. This is their first real chance to mourn losing their brother.
Tech wonders whether Crosshair's actions were influenced by his inhibitor chip, and Omega basically confirms that theory. Wrecker is excited by the possibility that Crosshair didn't willingly betray them, but Hunter very quickly shuts the conversation down, saying they have other problems to tackle first.
While he's not technically wrong, Hunter pulls out the "raincheck card” too frequently in Season 1. And subsequently, a lot of the topics that come up in conversations keep simmering in the background while the Batch does other things until they're FORCED to confront them.
This scene is the perfect example of that. The Batch didn't mention Crosshair except in passing in 1.02, and it's only when Omega finds his weapon kit that they are FORCED to talk about him. (EDIT: Check out the 3:45 mark of this video on 2.09 “The Crossing” for more examples.)
I get the sense that Hunter's reaction in this scene, plus all the distractions that come up later, is why the others never really bring up Crosshair again, except in passing. It's a sore subject for Hunter, and they all tend to take their cues from him, especially this early in the show. Plus, they're probably still processing their own feelings, so they might not be ready to bring up the topic.
One last thing from 1.03 I want to note is that, later in the episode, Hunter is telling Omega about his and his brothers' enhanced abilities, and he automatically excludes Crosshair from the list.
It really feels like Hunter -- and the rest of the squad by extension -- labeled Crosshair as a lost cause very early on. That it was a given that he was their enemy now and there was no real chance of getting him back (unless he came to his senses on his own like Howzer and other clones later do).
This might be why they're so shocked when he reveals he removed his chip, because they were hoping that once he "woke up" that he would come back to them. Wrecker even says as much to Crosshair in 1.16: "We still would've taken ya."
Ultimately, I think the characters had differing perspectives on who had the responsibility in the situation.
It seems Hunter and the others took a very passive approach. They told Crosshair about the chip when they had the chance, hoped he would "wake up" on his own, and would've accepted him back if he had.
But, Crosshair feels they should've taken a more active approach. He's hurt that they never came back for him, whether to save him or to join him.
(EDIT #2: I realize that by 1.15, at least, Crosshair seems to be arguing that they should’ve come back to join him in the Empire. He might be making that argument, but I’m saying his brothers had a responsibility to try to save him, and in that regard, I believe they failed.)
This is essentially the exchange Hunter and Crosshair have in 1.15:
Crosshair: They don't leave their own behind, most of the time. Hunter: You tried to kill us. We didn't have a choice. Crosshair: Hmm. And I did?
And, as I said before, based on everything we saw in Season 1, I tend to side with Crosshair.
Hunter made mistakes -- never talking about Crosshair and shutting down the others when they did was a big one. He never addressed the elephant in the room until he HAD to, and by then it was basically too late. And, of course, it seems the others took their cues from him.
As the leader, it was his job to -- at some point when they weren't in immediate danger -- introduce the topic and ask the others for their thoughts about Crosshair, especially once they knew how powerful the chip's influence was and once they knew how to remove it.
But, he didn't.
If the writers wanted me to side with Hunter when he says "We didn't have a choice" -- especially given the double standard I discussed earlier -- I don't think they gave me good enough reason to.
However, I think that's ultimately why the writers did what they did.
Both Hunter and Crosshair made enough mistakes in Season 1 that you can argue all day about which one of them failed the other more, which makes the show and characters all the stronger for it. Because neither one is 100% in the right or 100% in the wrong.
I just wanted to play Devil's Advocate, and try to explain why Crosshair felt like he did, and why I believe he was (at least partly) justified.
So, feel free to continue debating it, but I at least believe that Crosshair's brothers failed him first.
#star wars#the bad batch#tbb crosshair#the bad batch crosshair#tbb season 3#tbb spoilers#tbb omega#tbb hunter#hunter tbb#hunter the bad batch#clone trooper crosshair#crosshair the bad batch#crosshair tbb#tbb season 1#tbb season 2#tbb meta
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Didn't want to be that one follower who sucks the wind out of the room with a big addition, so sending this for you to answer or ignore at your own discretion.
Visavis that body slider post, I kind of just feel like we can't and will never be able to depend on AAA games to represent us accurately, or really any minority experience for that matter. These games are all fairly archetypical power fantasy heroes quests or whatever, and especially if they incorporate full character customization, they necessarily will shave off granularity, especially in the name of budget feasibility.
Maybe they could be convinced that transfems are a large enough market to hire a VA for us, and learn the dos and donts of body/gender character creation by rote, but the story will still be roughly the same. They won't add a hundred, maybe thousand, little instances of microaggression, degendering, kneejerk suspicion; completely rewrite the fabric of how every other character in the game interacts with us, because then they'd have to do that for every other conceivable identity.
I'm not saying this is fair, or justified, or that they should be let off the hook for it, but I just unfortunately don't see it ever changing for these types of games. A far more feasible ask, in my opinion, would be to demand that games if anything stop making the character a blank canvas for the audience to craft an effigy of themselves, and instead force them to make narratives that are explicitly transfeminine alongside being power fantasy heroes quests; to ask the majority cis audience to step into our shoes for once, in a way that can't be cordoned off to the side as the overwhelming majority of the audience plays as a character that doesn't force them to challenge their preconceptions of the world.
i agree somewhat, but i’m not necessarily asking for literally every line of dialogue to be restructured for every element of every character — but this is Dragon Age we’re talking about; it prides itself on writing separate dialogues for different character traits, and it literally follows through on doing that with transness as a trait too — that’s actually one of the cooler parts of Veilguard. the problem is that when we come to meet the non-binary character, none of their story makes any kind of sense. theyre closeted and anxious about telling their mom, but… there doesn’t seem to be any transphobia in this world, so why would that be a factor? there’s this great big Very Special Episode feeling cutscene about this character being accidentally misgendered and how all the cis characters should punish themselves for it. but if there’s no transphobia, that’s just a genuine mistake, like i don’t see people forcing themselves to do push-ups when they accidentally refer to their married friend as “miss”, or if you accidentally refer to a cis person who changed their name by their old name — it’s just a “oh my bad, sorry” moment before moving on — and worse yet, this conversation forces your character to be a cis person at the sidelines when it’s a perfect example of just One perfect place you could be inserting different dialogue for a trans character.
i’m not asking for massive vast differences between trans and cis characters, obviously these types of RPGs have to have some element of mushy in-the-middle-ness to be able to have such widely customisable characters. but there’s a mid ground between “literally realistic depiction of being microaggressed by every cis person you meet & totally separate dialogue trees and quests and storylines” and “my trans character is assumed to be cis in the writing of cutscenes interacting with major trans characters about them being trans”. and we’re at the latter right now.
you’re right — we’re not a marketable demographic. that’s not why these things are being added: that’s literally my point, the trans content in videogames is largely aimed at cis people feeling good and progressive for its surface level inclusion. like, “nobody cares enough to represent us because we won’t give them enough money” is part of what i’m complaining about? 😭
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A Fresh Start [24]
Din Djarin x F!Reader
Warnings: [18+ only] controlled training combat, self defense lessons, smut (we're finally here, folks), oral female receiving
Word Count: 6,444
Summary: When you made plans for your future they never involved being hired by a Mandalorian to baby-sit his adorable, green gremlin of a child. However, after your life fell apart in the span of one disastrous night, you found it to be the only feasible option you had left. Nevarro was a far cry from Coruscant, but the thriving community turned out to be exactly what you needed. Every day you spend in Nevarro you fall more and more in love with your new life, but when your past rears its ugly head you find that perhaps peace wasn’t meant for everyone.

[a/n: so sorry this took nine thousand years. i probably have more announcements here but i'm bone tired so let's get on with it lolol also lowkey i did not edit this one to the degree in which i should have i am so sorry]
#24: RIGHT BETWEEN YOUR THIGHS
"i'm not sure what this is between us, but i am sure that i don't want it to stop, whatever it is." -j.a. redmerski
What does one wear on a date where combat was the plan? It wasn’t a question you thought you’d ever be asking yourself, yet here you were. After staring at your options for another beat, you grabbed something you’d be able to move in. The more athletic clothing you owned weren’t really the cutest, but your goal with them was focused on utility. You could always save the cute outfit for your part of the date tonight. The idea of impressing Din by being competent on his date and then pretty on yours was appealing to you.
Din was dropping Grogu off with Peli until tomorrow morning. With every second he was gone, you found yourself more nervous. Being with Din was always so easy. That was part of the reason why you fell for him so fast. Having him as a cemented part of your day was natural. So, it made no sense that you would be nervous at all, but it seemed the butterflies in your belly didn’t give a damn about logic.
You wandered back out into the main room of the house and let your eyes glance over the decor you had already set up. The second Din had left the house you had tossed up the decorations. In preparation for tonight, you had food prepped in the fridge for dinner and you had hung string lights all over the kitchen and living room. A blanket was laid out on the floor with a few pillows just for comfort. It was a simple set up and initially it had excited you, but in the time it took for you to get dressed for your combat date your anxiety had grown. What if it were too simple? What if you didn’t know Din as well as you thought you did?
Before you could second guess yourself any further, you hurried out of the house. Din had told you to meet him at the tarmac which caught you off guard. You assumed this would be taking place at least on world. It made you curious as to what he had planned exactly. On your way to the tarmac, you returned the greetings to those who waved to you. A few even tried to stop you to ask about something medical and you had to politely point them toward the clinic where they’d find Aayla. Any other day and you’d linger to help, but you had a Mandalorian waiting for you.
You had only stepped a few feet onto the tarmac when a hand was suddenly in yours and dragging you through rows of parked ships. “Din?” You questioned the shiny, beskar covered man. “Hi to you too, honey.”
“I’ve had three different people try and stop me to ask about one problem or another.” Din grunted.
“Aw,” You chuckled, “I had people try to stop me for medical advice! Look at us. Staples of the community.”
“Today, they need to make do without two staples.”

It had been a surprise when Din pulled you onto the little starship, but you were completely caught off guard when said ship broke through the atmosphere of a small, green world. You gazed out through the glass at the greenery that formed the large jungle you now flew over. He said he was taking you to a nearby, abandoned and uninhabited moon.
“Din…” You breathed in shock. Maker, this no named moon was gorgeous.
“You said you missed seeing the color green.” Din replied simply. Your eyes snapped to him in awe. It had been a toss away comment made quite some time ago. Growing up on Naboo, you had raised with forests and bodies of water. Then you bounced from Coruscant to Tatooine to Nevarro where the ground was non-existent or dry.
Din steered the ship toward a clearing in the jungle that sat on the edge of a cliff side where you had a view of the never ending trees. It was just shades of green and blue as far as your eyes could see. As soon as the ship was safely parked, you leapt out of your seat and rushed down the now lowering ramp.
The air was cool and humid. You took in a deep breath and marveled at how the smell of earth and vegetation filled your lungs. Din’s heavy steps came up behind you, and you glanced over your shoulder to give him a broad grin. You were beaming in the reflection of his visor.
“So, this is okay?” He asked with an almost nervous tinge to his voice.
“Okay?” You laughed. “Din, this is…” You shook your head and threw your arms around his neck. Din didn’t hesitate to wrap his own arms around your midsection and hold you close. “Thank you for this.”
“You may want to hold off on thanking me.” Din chuckled in your ear. “We haven’t even gotten to the rest of the date.”
You pulled back with a smirk and held a finger up at him. “I think you mean ‘courting session’.” Din let out a soft laugh before letting his hands fall from your side. You watched curiously as he began to unlatch portions of his armor. Your eyes widened and you glanced around outside the ship as if there would suddenly be a crowd where there hadn’t been one before. “What’re you doing?”
“We’re going to spar.” Din replied simply. “I want to make sure you can defend yourself.”
“And you need to strip down… why?”
Din huffed, “I’m not stripping down. I’m just removing my beskar.” He shook his head. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
You crossed your arms with a quirk of your eyebrow, “Who says you’re not the one who is gonna get hurt here?” Din laughed while pulling off his chest piece. The laugh was accurate. There was no way in hell you were going to even land a hit on him unless he wanted you to, but you feigned shock and disbelief. “Wow. How smug of you, Mandalorian.”
Din tilted his helmet at you in a ‘really?’ manner while pulling his cloak off. It left him in just his dark brown flight suit and you shouldn’t have found the plain outfit as attractive as you did. You continued to stand there and stare with a smile as he pulled off his gloves and kicked off his boots. Din set his hands on his hips, and you motioned toward his clothes. “Feel free to keep going. I won’t mind.”
“Alright, enough.” Din chuckled and set his hands on your shoulder. He turned you around and lightly pushed you out of the ship. You laughed under your breath and once you stood where he wanted in the field by the ship, he let his hands drag down to your hips. You expected him to spin you to face him, but instead he just took a step closer. You sucked in a sharp breath through your nose at the feel of his chest against your back. In a softer voice, he leaned his head closer to the side of yours. “How much self-defense do you know?��
“Oh, you know, the basics.” You mumbled with a little shrug. If you had to quantify the self defense you knew it would probably add up to less than the basics. Suddenly, before you could even blink, Din’s right arm wrapped around your neck in a choke hold. Your eyes widened and your hands lifted to grip the crook of his elbow to try and pull him away. “Dank farrik!”
Din flexed his arm enough for you to feel it but it wasn’t cutting off your air flow. You felt nervous for a whole other reason. His helmet was pressed against the side of your face in this hold, and he was so close that you could hear the slight static hum of his modulator. “Escape me, ner kar’ta.” You swallowed nervously and tried uselessly to tug Din’s arm away from your throat. He chuckled and you tried to kick his legs but even when you did make contact he didn’t budge. “You can do better than that.”
You thrashed your shoulders with a grunt, but he locked his grip. Din lifted you up so your toes only barely brushed the ground and began to drag you backwards. You yelped in surprise and rapidly tapped against his arm⏤ the universal sign for giving in.
Din set you back down and loosened his arm to hold you by the arms, “You alright?”
“Yeah, I am.” You replied. “I just didn’t see myself getting out of that anytime soon.”
He chuckled and slipped his arm back where it had been. Din nudged you and your hands went back to the crook of his elbow. “Step one foot forward.” You stepped out with your left foot. “And use your other foot to slip to the side and turn around. You wanna⏤”
Without waiting for the rest of his sentence, you tried to slip to his right side, but the second you tried to turn you found his hold around your neck tighter as he pinned you to his side. Din let out a soft laugh, and you beat on his back a bit to try and pull out.
“You slipped out the wrong way.” Din said.
“I noticed, thanks.” You muttered.
Din loosened his hold enough that you could straighten back up. “Try the other way.” You did the same thing, but this time you spun toward the left. Now, you were facing Din’s chest with his arm resting on the back of your neck and shoulders. “Good. Now push me away.” With all your strength, you shoved against Din’s midsection and you stumbled apart. “Very good, ner kar’ta. Again.”
He made you do it a few more times with his arm tighter each pass, and it got easier and more smooth every time you did it. You did it one more time, grinning triumphantly when you pushed him away, but this time Din lunged to grab you. His leg hit the back of yours and you went sprawling back. A cry of surprise left your lips and you braced for the blow of hitting the ground. However, at last minute Din caught you and carefully laid you against the grass the two of you were practicing on.
You opened your mouth to complain, but found your voice missing. Din was straddling you with his knees pressed to the ground on either side of your hip. He held himself up so he was carrying his weight on his knees and not crushing you. The sight of Din towering over you like this made you ache with need. He was right there. You could drag your hands up his thick thighs and to his belt with such ease. If this was affecting him the same way it was you, he didn't show it.
The sound of overhead thunder from distant storm clouds made Din look up as he searched for the source. Seeing your opportunity, you sat up and threw yourself forward to push Din backwards. Caught off guard, he fell back and you threw yourself on top of him. “Ha! I⏤” You didn't register what Din did, his movements were a quick blur of color, and suddenly you were on your back again, “Hey!”
Din grabbed your wrists to pin on the ground by your head. Rather than straddling you, this time he was situated between your legs. Oh, Maker. This was worse in the best kind of way. Din tilted his head, “That was cheating.”
“Whoops?” You gave him a sheepish smile. Din shifted so his weight was pinning your arms down rather than resting on the back of his calves. You swallowed the lump in your throat. “You know, I thought combat meant I was gonna get to punch and kick you more.”
“Should I be worried about how eager you are to punch me?”
You laughed, “Really though.”
“The chances of you being in an actual fist fight is lower than you being placed in a hold.”
“I mean, I’m planning to avoid both of those options.”
“I like that plan, but it’ll help me sleep at night knowing you at least know how to free yourself.” Din replied with a low chuckle. His hands lifted off your wrists to place a light hold on your throat. Your chin tilted up, making room for his large hands, and your reflection in his visor showed you that you were not hiding how badly you wanted him. Din didn’t apply any more pressure than the light hold he already had on you, but he did lower his face closer to yours, “You think you can focus and get out of this hold before we get rained out?”
You squirmed under him, hips shifting against his, and you felt his body stiffen. A slow smile crossed your face as you moved your hips more deliberately this time. Din let out a soft grunt, and you chuckled, “Guess that depends. You think you can teach me how without getting distracted?”
“Wayii, ner kar’ta.” Din murmured. He lifted a hand off your neck to grab your right hand and set it on the wrist of the hand still pretending to choke you. “Hold here and…” Din set your other hand on his left shoulder. “With this hold, you’re gonna pivot out from under me and put me in an arm bar.”
“Um, sure.” You said skeptically.
Din nodded to your left leg, “Put that foot against my hip so you can lift your other. You need it across my shoulder blades.” You tried to do as he said and it forced your hips up from the ground in a position that felt unnatural. “Good, good. Now that foot on my hip? Lift it and throw it over my head so both your legs are resting on my same shoulder.” With a grunt you did just that and it left the arm you had been holding trapped between your arms. Naturally, the hand that was on his shoulder fell to hold his wrist and you pushed your hip back down to the ground and it forced Din onto his back as you straightened your body. “Good, that’s⏤ah!” He tapped the thigh laying on his throat. “Good.”
You let go of him, but the moment you did he was on top of you once more. You cried out, startled, but Din had his hands at your throats. “Again. Faster.”
He squeezed just enough to get you moving. You followed his instructions, trying to remember each step, and you successfully got him into another arm bar. You let go of his arm so you weren’t accidentally hurting him, but you kept your legs where they were. One rested over his neck, right under his helmet, and the other on his lower chest. His arm bent so he could rest his hand on your thigh and he gave it a playful squeeze.
Din began to laugh and the sound was so relaxed, so boyish, that it brought a warm smile to your face. You sat up, leaning back on your hands, and stared down at him. His entire body was relaxed as he lazily dragged his hand back and forth on your thigh.
“This position can’t possibly be comfortable.” You teased.
Din’s helmet turned to look back at you. “Ner kar’ta, I could spend the rest of my life right here.” He squeezed your thigh again and chuckled. “Right between your thighs.” Your face grew warm at his words and Din rubbed your leg. “You’re doing so good. Making me proud.”
You bit down on your bottom lip and watched as a drop of water plinked against Din’s helmet. Then there was a second, then a third, and then you and Din were in a downpour. You pulled your legs off him and the two of you scrambled off the ground and back to the cover of the ship.
“Just… Just give it a minute or two.” Din stood at the edge of the cover so he could peer up at the now dark sky. “It’ll pass.” The clouds had rolled in quick and sudden, but they lingered. A full ten minutes passed and Din stood in his frustrated dad pose at the end of the ramp. You wandered down to stand beside him. He sighed, “I'm so sorry. If I had known it was going to rain I would’ve taken us somewhere else.”
“Din, this place is perfect.”
“It’s storming.”
“Yeah, but,” You set your hand on his arm, “We’re together.” Din turned his head to glance at you. “That’s all that matters.” The tension in his shoulders seemed to melt. You held your hand out to feel the rain against your skin. A thought occurred to you. “When’s the last time you felt the rain on your face?”
Din shrugged, “I fell into the Living Waters.”
“That’s called drowning,” You shook your head, “And it doesn’t count.”
“I took a shower last night.”
“Still not the same.”
He shrugged in response.
You squeezed his arm, “Well, this moon is uninhabited according to you. I can sit in the ship with the ramp up, and give you a second.” He tilted his head in what you assumed was confusion. “Everyone deserves to feel the rain on their face. Just to⏤ to feel alive, and we’re not getting any rain storms in Nevarro anytime soon.”
Din nodded once. You turned to walk back into the ship, but his hand slipped into yours. He squeezed your hand and pulled you out into the rain. You flinched at the first few drops, the cold water startling even knowing it was coming, and on instinct you lifted your head up so the rain splattered across your face. Din’s hand left yours but it was quick to find your skin once more. He cupped your jawline and you tore your gaze from the sky to his visor. His thumb dragged against your cheekbone.
“Close your eyes.” Din whispered.
Without hesitation, you let your eyes fall shut. Din’s hand fell away from your face. You heard the hiss of his helmet followed by the soft thud of heavy beskar landing on soft grass. More than anything in the worlds, you wished you could watch him experience this. Din let out a quiet sigh, close to a soft moan, and your lips twitched up into a smile. A pair of hands cupped your face and your own hands rose to rest on top of his. Din was close⏤ his body radiated heat. The tip of his thumb traced your bottom lip.
“Gar're bid mesh'la.” Din murmured and he was close enough that you felt his warm breath fan across your mouth. “So beautiful, ner kar’ta.” Warm lips slotted against yours and you breathed Din in. As always, Din kissed you with every part of who he was⏤ every single time was its own unique experience. His hands roamed down your body, never leaving contact, until they found your hips. Din’s lips broke from yours but continued to brush against yours as he sucked in a breath, “I… You’re so important to me.” The hands on your hips slipped up and under your shirt. His touch hot against your cold, damp skin. “Everything, ner kar’ta.”
You wrapped your arms around his neck to pull his lips back against yours. The kiss was bruising. A desperate tangle of teeth and tongue in a attempt to get closer⏤ as if he wasn’t already pinning the two of you chest to chest with his strong arms. The kiss began to simmer in desperation, but the passion remained. Even when it seemed slow as you caught your breath, he continued to lightly press his lips against yours in soft, chaste kisses. As if he couldn’t stand being apart.
“Din…” You murmured softly. Thunder rumbled overhead. The power of the sound competed with the pounding of your heart. Din nipped at your lower lip before dragging the tip of his tongue against the spot. You let out a soft sigh, and he pulled your lower lips between his own. His hands had slipped out of your shirt so they could instead cup your face and tilt your face at the ideal angle to allow him to continue his onslaught. He dragged his lips across your cheek until they pressed against the skin right under your ear. An involuntary shiver rocketed down your spine and you trembled enough that Din must have felt it.
“I need to get you out of the rain before you catch a cold.” Din mumbled against your skin.
You sighed and when he tried to pull back you trapped him by wrapping your arms around his torso, “That’s an old wives’ tale. Being in the rain doesn’t make you sick.”
“Fine, doc. I need to get you out of the rain before we get struck by lightning.”
“If you want I can make up some statistics about lightning strikes.”
Din chuckled, his chest rumbling with the sound, and you felt him kneel down. You stayed in place until the cool metal of his helmet pressed against your forehead. At the reassuring touch, you let your eyes flutter open. In his visor’s reflection, you saw what a mess you were. Soaked to the bone with swollen lips. You groaned, “Maker, I look like a drowned porg.”
“A very cute, drowned porg.”
You shoved at his chest with a laugh and Din chuckled and began to drag you back toward the ship. The two of you left puddles in the ship and you helped Din get his armor back on. It couldn’t possibly be comfortable with how wet his flight suit was, but he’d be parking in a populated area of Nevarro and couldn’t go without it.
“I’m sorry we couldn’t do more.” Din said as you sat down in the co-pilot seat.
You narrowed your eyes at him. “Don’t you dare apologize for the best first ‘courting session’ ever.”
Din let out a soft laugh and brought the ship up into the air. His hand reached over to rest on your thigh⏤ fingers curling into your skin as his thumb rubbed back and forth. You leaned back in your seat and despite the gorgeous scenery right outside the window, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his form.

There was never a lull in the conversation with Din. Talking to him always came naturally. It made you silly for ever being nervous about your portion of the date in the first place. After getting back to Nevarro, the two of you had gone back home and when Din saw the decor you babbled through an anxious explanation of your plans. He had been delighted at the sound of it. It took no time for the two of you to clean up after the courting session episode. Din traded his armor for a t-shirt and sweatpants, and you had tosses aside the wet work out clothes to put on a simple dress that made you feel cute with buttons down the torso.
Din hovered over you while you made food and helped despite you telling him he didn’t need to. Then, the two of you just enjoyed one another’s company. Back to back, eating dinner, and basking in the glow of the string lights you had hung up.
“This really is so incredible. Thank you.” Din said.
You set aside your bowl with a chuckle, “You don’t have to thank me for that, Din.”
“No, I do. I know this isn’t…” Din paused and there was a tension in his voice you couldn’t quite place. He sighed, “This isn’t typical. I’m sorry I can’t take you to a restaurant in town and sit across from you for a normal meal.”
“Din, you don’t have to apologize for that.”
“But⏤”
“I don’t care about any of that.” You shook your head. “I’d have every single meal, for the rest of my life, hidden away or in private as long as it meant I got to have them with you. That’s all that matters.”
You felt him begin to turn and immediately shut your eyes with a mumble that he was safe. Din’s fingers found the side of your face and you allowed your body to follow his movements as he pulled you to face him. His lips were on yours again with no preamble or hesitation. It only lasted a brief moment, pure and chaste, before he separated to lean his forehead against yours.
“You’re too good to me.” Din’s voice sounded hoarse as his hand traced the side of your face. “I don’t deserve you.”
“You deserve to be cared about⏤ you deserve to be…” The word ‘loved’ sat on the ip of your tongue, and you only barely caught it in your mouth before it tumbled out. You were confident of how you felt, and you were highly suspicious that Din was on the same page as you, but it was still terrifying to consider saying it out loud. “You deserve this and more, honey.”
“Have I told you how much I enjoy hearing you call me honey?” Din leaned back in and began to pepper kisses across your lower face.
“It’s come up a time or two.” You teased in response. He ghosted up your jawline, his breath hot on your skin, until they wrapped around your earlobe⏤ teeth nipping at it lightly. You couldn’t hold back a soft moan. “Maker, Din.” You felt his chuckle as he wrapped a hand around the back of your neck. Din carefully tilted your chin up and to the side so he could finish his line of kiss down your neck. “Keep this up and I’m… I’m not gonna want to get up, and I have dessert in the fridge for us.”
Din shook his head and dragged his nose up against the column of your neck to find your ear once more, “I have dessert right here, ner kar’ta.” His words, in that deep, honeyed voice, sent shivers down your spine. Want pooled in your belly as you melted into his hands. “Do you trust me?”
“Always.” You murmured. Din pulled away from you and you groaned at the loss. “Wait, no,” Din laughed at your whine and the sound was distant, “Come back.”
“Be patient!”
You heard his approach and felt him as he settled in front of you again. Din was wrapping something around your eyes and tied it behind your head. “That feel, alright?” You nodded in response and adjusted the blindfold to sit comfortably on your face. “Just want you to relax and not worry about accidentally opening your eyes or not. This okay?”
“Only if you start touching me again.” You grinned and tilted your chin up a hair.
“Oh, mesh’la,” Din was quick to cup your face once more and he pushed you back to settle on the blanket softly, “I’m more than happy to.” You had never been happier in your choice of clothing than now with Din unbuttoning the front of your dress. One large hand cupped your breast while the other stayed wrapped around the back of your neck. Din let out a breathless whisper of Mando’a before adding in Basic, “Tell me if you want me to stop.”
You shook your head, “I swear to the Maker if you stop I’ll kick your ass.” Din chuckled and shifted so he could rest between your thighs. You accommodated him by letting your legs fall open to rest on either side of his hips. “I know how to do that now since you taught me.”
“Teaching you how to get out of two holds is a little different from kicking ass.” Din replied amused. His hand left your breast and you felt the tips of his fingers brush against the scar along your collarbone. You stiffened slightly⏤ more out of self consciousness rather than discomfort or fear. Din leaned down until his lips pressed against the skin there. “Do you know how beautiful you are, ner kar’ta? Absolutely gorgeous.” You buried your hand in his soft hair, letting out a sigh, and Din kissed your scar twice more before letting his lips taste the skin of your chest. “Breathtaking.”
His mouth found the curve of upper breast. Din was careful as he pulled your bra down and when the cold air met your now bare nipples you gasped. More breathless Mando’a filled the air and only ended when Din’s lips wrapped around your right nipple as his hand held the underside of your other so his thumb could trace lazy circles around that nipple. Din’s tongue circled your sensitive skin and you groaned⏤ hand tightening in his hair.
The Mandalorian was new to using his mouth, but just like with kissing he was quick to pick it up and passionate about exploring with his tongue. All of his movements were focused and completed with the discipline of a bounty hunter. Even in a situation that was new to him, he used his body with confidence by dedicating to the action. Din’s mouth spent ample time tasting the skin of both your breasts, sucking and licking, and your entire being felt like it was on fire. Every inch of you craved his touch, you were drunk on him and were left a squirming mess under his strong hands. Pinned to the ground under his broad body and blind to everything but the sound, feel, and smell of him.
“Maker.” You gasped and tugged on his hair. “You’re killing me, honey. It’s…” He let his teeth lightly graze your overly sensitive nipple and your back arched in an attempt to follow his mouth as he pulled up. “Fuck. It’s so much. Too much.”
Din squeezed the breast his mouth wasn’t on and then crawled up just enough to press a soft kiss to your lips, “Sorry.” He hummed and you could hear the smile he was wearing. “Just can’t help myself.” Suddenly, you felt Din’s hand brush against the outside of your leg. It trailed back and forth from your knee to where the edge of your dress laid. You were already an absolute mess but having his warm touch against your thigh was making the need for him a hundred times worse. “Can I taste you, ner mesh’la kar’ta?”
You sucked in a sharp breath nervously. Your teeth bit down on your lower lip briefly. It had been a little while since you had anyone go down on you, and with the way you felt about Din you wanted things to be perfect. The thought of Din not enjoying himself or just feeling obligated haunted your mind and the anxiety dulled the pleasure. “You know you don’t have to do that, right? It’s not⏤”
“Have to?” Din’s fingers squeezed into the meat of your thigh and your hips involuntarily rolled up marginally to find a source of friction to ease the ache in your core. “There is literally nothing I could want more. I cannot even begin to describe how often I’ve thought of this moment right here.” You gave a small, weak nod. He squeezed your thigh once more. “Wanna hear you say it, ner kar’ta.”
“Yes, Din. Want that⏤ want you now.” Your desire beat out any anxiety you may have felt.
Din crawled down until he could press a kiss to the inside of your knee. His strong arm wrapped around your thigh, settling on his left shoulder, and you found comfort in that hold. You let out a relaxed breath. Din was safe. There was no reason to feel any anxiety in the arms of this man. With that, the anxiety began to ebb away and with every kiss Din laid on the inside of your thigh gradually traveling up the ache worsened.
The edge of your dress was pushed up with his left hand and it splayed across your abdomen. “This is my first time doing this with my mouth, mesh’la. Tell me if I’m hurting you.” Goosebumps formed across your skin at the cool air that now washed over you, but the weight of his hand seemed to burn straight through you. Din’s mouth pressed against your clothed heat. He kissed through your sinfully soaked underwear.
“Din,” You gasped, your hand refinding his hair, “Fuck. Din.”
His right hand slipped under the side of your underwear to tug them down your thigh. Din kept your right leg on his left shoulder, unmoving, and he hummed, “Knee to your chest, mesh’la.” You did as he asked and he used the movement to slip your left leg out of your underwear. The second you were uncovered, Din groaned, “Good girl.”
He buried his face into your wet folds in desperation. What Din lacked in precision he made up for with eagerness. He mumbled words of Mando’a straight into your pussy between licking long stripes through your lips. Din worked in broad strokes of his tongue, and every few seconds his nose would find your clit. It’d either brush too lightly for you to fully enjoy or press firmly against it and send jolting strikes of pleasure straight up your spine.
“Din, Din.” You moaned and he pressed in deeper, his tongue circling your hole. He hadn’t come up for air in a bit and you wondered how he managed to keep this up. Regardless, it was driving you wild. “Baby, please.” Din lifted his head and the sound of him panting was unbelievably attractive to you. “Shit, Din.”
“You alright?”
“Yes. Maker, yes, but…” You groaned. “I know you’re probably not meaning to do this, but you’re teasing me and it’s got me right on the edge.” Din shifted, you heard him chuckle, and before you could try to explain to him what you meant specifically when it came to his mouth, his thumb dragged through your folds up and straight to your clit. He circled it with insane precision and your mouth fell open in a silent cry as the arousal pooling in your lower belly grew and the ache almost sent you over the edge. “Maker! Din!”
Din pulled his thumb away and you were breathless. He placed a chaste kiss to your thigh where he could reach, “I’m not that unfamiliar with it, ner kar’ta. I told you I've used my hands.”
“Gotcha. So you were teasing me on purpose?” You scoffed and Din chuckled. You tugged on his hair and his breathy laugh grew louder. You grinned and shook your head. “You ass.”
“How about I make it up to you?” Din’s lips were back on you and this time he wasn’t just broadly tasting you. His precision had turned deadly and it was devastating how fast he drove you right back to that edge. “Taste so fucking sweet, mesh’la.” His tongue circled your clit before he began to apply enough suction that stars filled your vision. Your body began to tense as you spiraled into your quickly approaching orgasm. Din hummed and spoke against your clit, teeth and tongue brushing against it as the vibrations of his words buzzed against you, “Gonna come, ner kar’ta? Fall apart for me. Let me devour you.”
His lips wrapped around your clit again and the onslaught of his mouth had your orgasm washing over you. You let out a loud cry, his name garbled on your tongue, and as you came down from your high it felt like you were falling into a soft cloud. It was only then that you realized Din hadn’t stopped for a second. The slurping sound of him devouring you was downright filthy and you moaned again.
“Just like I said before, ner kar’ta.” Din dragged his wet lips up to kiss your abdomen in any random spot he could reach. “Could spend eternity between these gorgeous legs.”
You sat up on one elbow and blindly reached out to grab the collar of his shirt. “My turn, honey.” You gave his shirt a few tugs. “Want to taste you too.”
“Who said I was done here?” Din teased. He crawled up your body, still between your legs, and his hips pressed against yours firmly. You felt his hard cock straining against his sweatpants and he let it grind against your messy pussy. You reached down for the waistband of his sweatpants and Din’s hand rested by your neck to hold himself up while his other caressed the column of your neck and along your jaw. “I’m not done eating dessert.”
Your lips curled into a broad smile as you recognized the similar position you were in to what had been going on earlier today. Quickly, your right hand grabbed his left, the one holding him up, and before you could second guess yourself you let your legs kick up just like in the courting session until you were able to push him off you into an arm bar. This was the exact position he had been in last time, but this time you were unable to see him. Still, you felt your legs across his chest as you held his arm between your thighs.
For a beat it was silent, and you were worried you had upset him in some way, but then he began to laugh. Without the modulator of his helmet, the sound was clear and downright musical. You’d trade your soul if it meant getting to see the way his face looked right now. You wanted to see his smile, wanted to see the lines that formed on his face when he laughed like this.
“Maker, you’re so perfect, ner kar’ta.” Din breathed as his free hand came up to caress your legs. “I can’t begin to… You’re… I…” He let out one more laugh. “Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum.”
“What does that mean?” You didn’t recognize those words.
“I’ll tell you one day. I promise.”
You chuckled, “Bold of you to deny someone who has you in an arm bar right now, honey.”
The hand you were holding between your legs suddenly tightened around your wrist and he pulled you toward him while pushing your legs off of him. With a yelp of surprise, he had you flipped so your arms and head were laying on his chest while your legs were sprawled out behind you. Din grasped the side of your face to pull you to his lips. His hand raked through your hair lovingly, and you sighed against his kiss. Din swallowed the sound of your content.
You felt so warm and comfortable against Din, and as if you hadn’t been aware of it before, it was startling how much you loved Din Djarin.

mando'a translations:
ner kar'ta: my heart Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum: I will know you forever Wayii: Good grief Gar're bid mesh'la: You're so beautiful mesh'la: beautiful

taglist (closed):
@aheadfullofsteverogers @yyiikes @kneelforloki @c-ms1ut @sgt-morgan @luthienaliceisilra @missbabyjay @coldlamaspersonspy @dilfsaremyfavourite @emily-roberts @djarinxore @impala1967666 @shelbyteller @faithrenner @dindjarindude @dankfarrick29 @garbo-lesbo @anythingforattention @tearfulsolace @onceinamando @catharinaroxastova @modiddys-blog @harriedandharassed @stagerightlauren @mini-bees @adoringanakin @sagegreensensei @spidey-3 @thepascalofus @hrtsforpascal @lil-dragon-draws @guccistardust @ideajpeg @leithatnight @elfamosotoga @damnzelsoul @the-anchored-sailor-girl @morks-watermelon @katelynmarieyt @taylorann2013 @chonkercatto @dheet @liadamerondjarin @fallinallinmendes @missdicaprio @jennaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @alphaash99 @djarinsmixtape @pcrushinnerd @closedaddition
#the mandalorian#din djarin x reader#din djarin x you#a fresh start#din djarin#reader insert#mando x reader#mando x you#star wars#din djarin smut
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HAPPENING……MAYBE!! (Addressing the anime rumors + Keroro’s birthday plan revealed)

*holding my hand out toward you with sparkles framing me* Let’s take copium together!
Not the post I was planning to make next, but here’s a sudden update for a couple of reasons. Some very exciting rumors which you may very well have seen have been floating around for the last day or so, and while I was initially hype as fuck to corroborate it as fact, there’s a little asterisk to the whole thing that I wanna tack on before we shit our pants too much. In addition, the official accounts have revealed what they’re planning for Keroro’s birthday this year, and while it’s not that closely related, I might as well cover that too.
So, a summary of what alleged info just came out:
A typically reputable anime news/leak account, SugoiLITE, shared yesterday that the Keroro anime series is planned to be broadcasted in Spring 2025, and a new movie is planned for 2026. However, the only publicly verifiable info hinting toward this is a recently released interview in an anime magazine with animation director Fumitoshi Oizaki (from the original series, and was also credited on April’s PV), where he describes the series and movie projects but does not specify the series name. This info is per another credible reporter, blogger ryokutya.
Now, here is my translation of Oizaki’s quote as presented in the post: “Details haven’t been made public yet, but I’m working on a series to be broadcasted next spring. Concurrently, a movie scheduled to be released in 2026 has also started production.”
Sadly, the blog post does not specify which anime magazine this was in, so I don’t have the full context for the interview or the question asked. I checked a few table of contents from recently released anime magazines and didn’t see Oizaki’s name in any of them. My hunch is telling me that it’s Newtype, which doesn’t have a digital version, so there’s no feasible way for me to have it that quickly. So yeah, we’re kinda stuck with that quote floating in the void for now.
I can’t go too deep into it so you’ll have to trust me on this one, but I’ve got a little knowledge myself about roughly how and from where anime leaks usually get sourced. It is very possible SugoiLITE does indeed know this information in advance, but it’s also equally possible he only saw this same quote and extrapolated the most likely scenario from it. If it is the latter, I’d say he made a pretty safe bet anyway.
In the quote, what I chose to translate as “concurrently” can also mean “in parallel”, so the interpretation I’m getting is that the spring 2025 series and 2026 movie are connected and being developed in tandem. Ryokutya also guesses that the work in question is Keroro since it does have a project announced. I’ve speculated that the new series will air in either spring or summer next year for a while now (BNP has a mysterious gap in their schedule, with two series airing in January and the Gintama spinoff announced in late 2023 being pushed to October). A movie in 2026 also make a lot of sense, since it’s the 20th anniversary of the first movie. Oizaki does work on other franchises with recent relevancy, such as Kaleido Star which had its 20th anniversary in 2023, and some works in the Shigeru Mizuki-verse like Akuma-kun and last year’s Gegege no Kitaro prequel. But given the specific language in the quote and just Occam’s razoring it down to the fact that we know Keroro is getting things already, I think this double feature is pretty likely what’s going on. Maybe it’s the hopium talking, but it’s certainly not a reach (trust me I’ve made reaches before I was here for the nothingburger that was the anime’s 15th anniversary).
Okay, tl;dr: Given the one available source we have and the credibility of both reporters involved, I think there’s a pretty good chance the anime will really be next spring and there will be a movie in 2026 as people have been corroborating. But the probability that this is an educated guess and the probability that it’s confirmed are pretty much equal at the moment. So get excited! But not too excited. Just like a bit above average excited. You may draw the party popper pull string back about three quarters.
When I first started drafting this post, I was looking forward to saying that we’ll likely find out next month what the truth is, knowing that today the official accounts were going to reveal what this year’s Keroro birthday celebration is. But…they explicitly stated there will not be any new anime info at the event they have planned. Booooooo. Well, here’s what we are getting:

It’s actually not a physical event like they held last year. This time, they’re commemorating Keroro’s birthday with the first episode of a new live radio show called “Kero! to Radio”, featuring Keroro’s voice actress Kumiko Watanabe and Tamama’s voice actress Etsuko Kozakura. It will be broadcasted irregularly on the official Keroro YouTube channel, and next month’s premiere will be here. There will be various different segments of the show which feature messages and questions sent in by listeners. Submissions are sent in via the program’s Onsen page, which also has details about each segment. You do need an account to send messages, but I don’t think a Japanese address is required unless you want to enter the optional raffle. I’ll play around with it later and potentially do a separate post going more into the show’s structure if that’s something people are interested in (obviously you need to know Japanese to really get anything out of this, so I’d like to gauge if it’s worth it first).
While it’s disappointing that there seemingly won’t be any news about the new anime revealed on the legendary birthday, it’s pretty neat to have another VA radio show. It seems like this is sort of following in the footsteps of Keroro and Giroro’s Earth Invasion Radio from back when the original show was still airing, although Keroro Channel also had been doing its own livestreams featuring the BNP/Kadokawa staff running the channel giving updates about the series’s various collabs and stuff (the majority of these episodes were done before the new anime announcement). It’s unclear if this is going to replace those or not; this is quite different structurally. It would be really cool if they rotate the voice actors out each episode and change the segments up a little since the broadcasts are irregular anyway. I guess we’ll have to wait and see!
*Exhale* All right, that’s enough yapping for today. I know the wait for more concrete details on the anime has been excruciating, especially now that we have a very tantalizing possibility dangling right before our noses. But if spring really is the airdate, it can’t be too much longer now. We already waited over a decade—what’s a few more months, right? Heh heh... (I’m dying Squirtle.)
#keroro gunso#sgt frog#keroro#tamama#anikero reiwa#boy it’s been a while since I got to use that tag#hopefully the next time won’t be too far away :’)
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do u write for acno?????
If so, please feed us with acnologia x reader 🙏🏻🙏🏻 headcanons, anything ill take it please the people are starved
I haven't considered acno before; he's not really a character I like to explore thaaat much, but I tried lol
these came out pretty angsty bc I really don't think there's a way to survive a relationship with acnologia given how he ends up :(
acnologia x reader headcanons
cw: mentions of child death and injuries; overall angst
♡ probably the only way to have a feasible relationship with acnologia is if you meet him when he's a human. the fiore of 400 years ago is nothing like modern times. it's wild, lush, vibrant, and dangerous. dragons roam freely, not just present but overpowering, and you're a meager human. still, you know you want to help your people in any way you can. you become a healer, and that's how you meet doctor acnologia.
♡ healing is a difficult job, and you spend many sleepless nights in the infirmary with acno mixing potions and balms and salves. you don't miss the way his eyes widen when your fingers brush against his as he hands you the mandrake root. he doesn't miss your tiny smile as his hand ghosts over your lower back when he passes you to weigh ingredients.
♡ it's a quiet relationship that blooms out of solidarity, a shared passion for healing, and dedication. you're both calm people, and despite the daily threat of dragons, you don't think anything could shake your relationship with the logical, ever-rational man working beside you. and yet.
♡ it's a day like any other. except a mother runs in wailing, her child dead in her arms. there's nothing you could have done, not with your healing prowess or with acnologia's medical expertise, because the child was killed by a dragon. you can't stop yourself from cringing at the mangled flesh, the smell of charred skin. acnologia is quiet, and neither of you can say anything to console the woman sobbing on your infirmary floor.
♡ things are different after that. acno doesn't engage you in witty banter or philosophical conversation. he eats less and less. he disappears at night. the work has always been split evenly between the two of you, but now you find yourself measuring ingredients and keeping the books. those were always acno's jobs.
♡ acnologia comes home covered in blood. it's not his. you can tell because it's black. the black blood of a fucking dragon, and suddenly you're dragging him into the back room, tears streaming down your face as you try to get answers from him. his voice is monotone as he confesses. you feel the world spin as the words dragon slayer magic, dragon festival, and dragon king run through your head. still, you patch him up.
♡ the days get longer and the nights shorter. acnologia seems calmer but... more distant. you notice the blood under his fingernails (not his. never his.) and the bags under his eyes, but damn is he good at distracting you. you know you should leave. you know dragon slayer magic is corruptive. you know what acnologia will turn into, but you relish every night that you can hold him close and press kisses to his crown.
♡ you rub salve into the scales that spread across acno's arms and cheeks. he brings you shiny stones and pretty glass. calls them courting gifts. it never fails to make you laugh. you eat more meat for dinner. you don't ask where it's from. you run the front end of the infirmary completely by yourself now, while acno stays in the back and prepares you potions. he doesn’t want to scare the kids that come to see you, and you take it as a sign of his persevering humanity. you start to think that maybe the idyllic life you've built together can go on forever.
♡ all you can think about is how green your village was, before it was consumed by dragon fire. the smoke makes your eyes burn, but you can't move from under the rubble. you can feel the dragon more than see it, its footsteps reverberating in your chest. you shut your eyes, tears streaming down your face, and accept death. but it doesn't come.
♡ your sweet, dear acnologia is unrecognizable. a blur of black and blue that makes the dragon screech in pain. it's quick, it's lethal, and it's terrifying. the dragon is dead, and you're sobbing for all that's changed in the past few years. the way acnologia pulls you out of the rubble isn't human, but it isn't dragon either. he clings to you, caresses your face, his worried words coming out in growls and roars. all you can do is reach up, brush your thumb across his cheek, and smile. it's still him, still your dear acnologia.
♡ you wake up on the outskirts of a town, bandaged roughly. you don't see acnologia for a long, long time after that fateful night. you set up a new infirmary, you treat new patients, you never forget the little boy with a constant sniffle that died in the dragon attack. and you never forget acnologia. in the dead of night, you let yourself imagine him coming home.
♡ it's so similar, you're getting deja vu. the town is burning, and you can barely breathe. you can move this time, though, and you run because you know he's not coming to save you. you make it to the edge of the forest, so close to safety. but a dragon blocks your path. scales dark as night, electric blue markings, and eyes that pierce your very soul.
♡ you fall to your knees and sob. you could never, never run from acnologia, even if it meant the end for you. you only wish that this won't hurt him. you look straight into your beloved's eyes, and you smile. tears streaming down your face, ash covering your cheeks, arms burned and angry red. you've never looked more beautiful. you close your eyes and wait for death. it doesn't come.
#ambiguous ending but uh. also not that ambiguous lol#lychee writes#acno was a healer and look where he ended up :(( what he became :((#we should've gotten full acno backstory lowkey underdeveloped w so much potential#fairy tail#fairy tail headcanons#fairy tail x reader#acnologia
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his ugly orange hair



This is a vent fix I wrote so please keep that in mind lol
CW : young! Konig (just joined the military) roommate reader, civilian reader, trans man reader, ftm reader, bad breakup, hurt comfort, panic attack,
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They had left. You had tried, Lord knows you tried. Again and again tears rolled down your face, cheeks red and eyes darkening with the slow flood of stains that painted you like glass after rain. Your chest heaved with the great weight of your lungs and the world, again… again… again again again Again Again AGAIN AGAIN AGAIN OVER AND OVER. until you choked on your breath and tongue, tears stinging until you gaged and sputtered. Left a hopeless sobbing puking mess on your bed. The bed was cold, soft quilted sheets like a prison.
Several days were spent in a spiral of thoughts and flurries of emotions. You hadn't told your mom yet, didn't think you could bear to, but the long dragging scrape of your eyelids forced you to blink back tears. It had been a day and in cliche of a cliches you rifled the cabinets of your two bedroom apartment. Yours- you laughed, you had shared it with your roommate for 2 years now. A tall young man about 19 like you. Unlike your study abroad program that had accepted you on a small but feasible scholarship, he was a military man partnered with a pmc. Really it was his apartment. Over the years you grew close as friends when he was home for the time between deployments. You didn't even think in your delirium and haze that today was the day he'd get home.
The sound of rustling cardboard and the gentle noises of bathroom products sliding against the shelfs of the small closet filled your ears. Half empty jar of manic panic sat temptingly in the back, behind body butters and discarded Colognes. Not what you where looking for. Finally you found it. Reaching in you grabbed a reflective box, iron brand permanent box dye. Better then splat red, you thought to yourself as you cut the box with your kitchen scissors.
Looking down at your hands you felt the bile rise up in your chest, the burning in your eyes as you blinked back tears. Your hair had gotten longer, shaggy and slightly unkempt in the recent weeks leading up to the cat and mouse game that was scheduling a haircut. It brushed uncomfortably against your neck and that gnawing feeling from your childhood returned. It was like your face morphed in the mirror, hideously soft, lashes too long, and you wanted to look away. Lose ,bright shirt, the sleeves and neck cut off and the thing ruined by stains of black and red and blue. The dye shirt, a staple and testament to your love of this particular activity. 9pm bad decisions. Your chest is devoid of its usual bindings and it eats at you a little until you find yourself rifling to find a hair tie.
Snip snip snip, clips of uneven hair fall until you are happy with the slightly uneven results and scraggly look it gives. It makes you smile.
First wash, then dry before you once again clumsily drag out a mixing bowl and brush fully determined to make this a masterpiece. But as you slipped on your blue gloves, once a pretty flower design now covered in blue and black from the last incident, you couldn't help but give into that child.the urge to dip your hands into the goopy mix. In goes the bleach, followed by a sloppy measure of vol. 20 developer.
And the goop called your name- brush discarded as a mixing tool alone you slathered the goopy mix into the strands of your short hair, realizing in panic as you didn't mix enough. Struggling with your nemesis the gloves you cursed under bated breath before managing to get one off so you could once again arduously unscrew the caps and re-mix in another sloppy bit of measuring.
The counter of the small bathroom was a mess. Neither you nor Konig were particularly neat- a mouth watch in the corner and on the other side a clear blue cup with two toothbrushes inside it. Behind the rim of the white sink were two razors, one missing its guard from frequent use and the other beginning to rust because you forgot to dry it. Sprawling in the mess was a small vial of your testosterone, and also the gell. Closest to the door was a box of tampons and- only now- vol. 20 developer. Ibuprofen next to Tylenol and a children's cough syrup that was God knows how old. Vix vapor rub and a tooth paste. Messy. The hair in the center of your head gradually turned a light blond as your sides and back didn't take the same. Disgruntled you at least hoped for a cool effect. Your scalped itched and nose burned at that familiar comforting smell that was hair bleach. Bowl and brush discarded into Water and sink, you braved the cold frigid touch of the shower head to rinse your bleach soaked hair.
Should you be going into this right after bleaching and drying? No. But hesitation seems foreign to you as you take out a second brush and bowl, mixing the copper orange until your concoction looks about right.
You look like a highlighter and it brings out all of your joy. You stare and wait as time ticks by with your head slathered in that ghastly orange. “Heilige Scheiße, sehr orangefarbener kleiner Herr” his voice heavy with his accent and light laughter. He towered in the doorway, arms raised as his large fingertips hug on the top of the frame. He leaned down slightly to watch you and your bright orange hair. Your position didn't go unnoticed by him, sitting on the floor by the tub and showering with a bowl of orange remnants on the toilet. It also didn't go unnoticed by the glassy look in your eyes or the almost imperceptible darkness forming around your waterline from the tears. Your chopped up hair and of course the slightly patchy orange. “I'll help wash your hair, ja Süße?” You smiled and he stalked off the few paces to his room in order to strip his tactical gear away. When he returned he wore a black compression shirt and plaid red lounge pants- the ones you got him last Christmas- and his mask, a nasty habit he picked up from his time serving. He almost never takes it off, when he has it off the gnawing feeling returns. That paranoia and anxious scratching that just won't quit. He doesn't go out much either, preferring to stay home where his face can be on display without anxiety overcoming him in that snippy aggression that seized him. You knew being at home in the little apartment would take a few day before the mask slipped off again, yet to your surprise as he kneeled down he pulled it off. His naturally ginger hair had once again lost much of the length it usually held, although somewhat more lax and not buzzed, you missed the usual small man bun that would hold back his deep auburn hair. His face was aged beyond its years by suffering and work, sharp angles and elegant defined slopes covered with the light scruff of his facial hair that he probably had not had a chance to shave in a few weeks. His cleft lip pulled slightly on the shape of his lips but blended in for the most part with the silver scars littering his face. Next to his mouth and along his jaw, under his eye on his cheek bone, threw his right eyebrow and most concentrated in the area of his mother and lower jaw the pale scars decorated his skin now don't peppered all across him. You smiled seeing his face, interesting and handsome. The latter a thought you beat down with a stick. “Want to tell me why you've been crying huh?” He asked as if he already knew. You nodded and squeaked out a strained yes before leaning over the tub to rinse the dye. His large palm cradled the back of your head as the cold water rushed past your eyes in a stream of orange. Thick fingers pressing ever so gently into your tender scalp scrubbing the remains of orange goop and leaving only one the patchy hair behind. He rubbed the dampening towel against your hair as you explained to him you ex and how you where now on the hunt for a partner. He chuckled, that deep rumbling sound that was a endless source of delight. “kleiner Schlingel- you don't have to look far” he said confidently, yet his piercing green eyes normally devoid of much feeling searched yours for a sliver of Reassurance.
You delivered, leaning against his massive shoulder as your ugly orange hair soaks his shirt. But he didn't mind. He loved your ugly orange hair.
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#konig x reader#konig cod#konig call of duty#konig mw2#cod x reader#cod mw2#cod#call of duty#call of duty x reader#mw2 x reader#mw2#ftm!reader#trans!reader
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Truly, I’m disappointed in myself that it took me this long to do this (or maybe I’ve already done it and forgotten!) but here are the Fear Entities that I think each of the Princesses would be avatars of, knowingly or unknowingly:
Chapter 2 Girls
Beast: The Hunt. Obviously. No explanation needed.
Witch: Initially, I had her down as a Corruption avatar---she's all about nature, she's the product of a relationship that started out fine but went rotten, if you make her a more traditional witch (like me) you know she's all about mushrooms---but after thinking about it, she'd also be an amazing avatar of The Web. She's a scheming, manipulative little trickster, after all, and you know she's the type to think that spiders are adorable.
Prisoner: The Lonely is a contender, but there's really no better option for my best girl than The Buried. Chains are not dirt, that much is true, but there is something so distinctly Buried about becoming increasingly trapped in a prison so specifically designed for you... and, well, being a Buried avatar would definitely be one way of reclaiming her agency.
Damsel: The Stranger. I... don't exactly think I need to explain this one. We've all seen the Deconstructed sequence. (I do think it would be interesting if she didn't realize she was a Stranger avatar and freaks out when she discovers the truth, because feeding off of people's fear is the opposite of making them happy, though.)
Adversary: After careful consideration, I decided on The Desolation for her---but specifically, the part that deals with pain, not strictly fire. Is this because she gives me Jude vibes? Maybe, but it still works.
Tower: She was the hardest chapter 2 princess to figure out, but after much debate, I finally settled on the Entity who feels the most like her---namely, The Eye. Being able to sense the Narrator is very Eye-coded, and in terms of personality... hate to say it, but she could give Elias a run for his money.
Nightmare: Now, I could be boring and say "creepy doll=Stranger," but if I'm being honest, I don't want to repeat Entities until we get to our chapter 3s, and she feels way more Dark-coded in her whole "fear of the unknown" thing. Very monster-in-your-closet. (It could also be argued that she could literally be an avatar of anything due to her just... inspiring fear as her thing, but we gotta be specific here.)
Spectre: There is no vessel more Lonely-coded than our sweet ghost girl. And because of that, I want to give her a hug.
Razor: Slaughter. You could argue "Spiral" because Distortion=knife hands, but you cannot make a woman who is literally made of weapons anything but an avatar of The Slaughter.
Stranger: Ironically enough... The Spiral! Name aside, there's really nothing more Spiral than being everything and yet nothing at once and not knowing who or what you are, and I think this is only Entity that could feasibly suit them.
Chapter 3 Girls
Den: Also Hunt. Again, big kitty.
Thorn: Now, she was pretty difficult to figure out, but I think she also works as a Lonely avatar---or, hell, even an avatar of The Corruption because of all of her nature and decay stuff, but Lonely really fits her whole melancholy vibes and just wanting someone to be close to. Maybe she doesn't have the aesthetics, but she has the mood.
Cage: She could also be a Buried avatar, but in my opinion, The Web makes way more sense---everything from the fact that she believes she has no autonomy to the fact that her body can literally control chains that practically puppeteer TLQ feels incredibly Web-coded to me.
Happily Ever After: She is The Corruption at its most abstract---a relationship that at first seems nothing but loving and devoted, and yet when you look closer, you see that there is something deeply rotten at its core. The "toxic relationship" interpretation of The Corruption is something that's only alluded to in TMA canon, but I think HEA really does encapsulate it.
Eye of the Needle: This one is The Slaughter. It's not even about the pain anymore, it's just about wanting to fight.
Apotheosis: She is, without a doubt, an avatar of The Vast in every sense of the word. She's something that's truly too large to fully be encapsulated, too large to truly be fought or beaten. Also, big woman.
Moment of Clarity: I know, I know, ironic that there's all of these ghost princesses and I pick this weird puppet one as an avatar of The End, but her inevitability means that... well, she's really the only one who could be an End avatar. Except, of course, the Shifting Mound herself, though I'd argue that she's a more benevolent version of The Extinction. Also, gods are not avatars.
Princess & The Dragon: Spiral. Just... Spiral. I cannot stress enough how much this vessel is an avatar of The Spiral. Her chapter is too mindfucky for her to be anything but.
The Wild (Networked & Wounded): Oh god, is this one hard to categorize... I'd say Corruption for both versions, since as much as I love The Wild, there's no denying that she is a corrupted version of what Once Was.
The Grey (Burned & Drowned): Desolation for Burned, obviously, and for Drowned... well, ironically enough, I believe that drowning is actually part of The Buried. So, uh, yeah, Buried for her.
The Fury: Flesh, she's Flesh, moving on.
The Wraith: Yeah, she's The Web. You could argue that she's also The End, but... Web.
#slay the princess#the magnus archives#stp the beast#stp the witch#stp the prisoner#stp the damsel#stp the adversary#stp the tower#stp the nightmare#stp the spectre#stp the razor#stp the stranger#i'm not tagging all of the chapter 3 princesses
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