#even if she gets a canon eye color i will absolutely not change her design.

[chiangyorange]

i love making new dolls to play with <3 PLAY DOLLS WITH ME!!!!

Overall

THE LOST WOODS ARE FINE THEY DONT ACTUALLY BURN IT DOWN (theyre burning the corruption out but it still feels like a loss because after this it burns for DAYS and both pen and quill agonize over their actions because of it)

running with the idea that these two are from the timeline convergence, but before the ancient hero in botw. im personally leaning towards before (so before rauru's reign from totk)

there is no ONE GUY as the big bad-- i wanted to use that idea of how the calamity was less of a Guy and more of an Event, a natural force. so what happened to pen and quill here is the prelude to that

the idea that the moat around the lost woods was man made REALLY COMPELS ME. iirc the water around the forest was never there before?? at least thats what googling many screenshots of the lost woods is telling me

one BIG REASON that i made them both in their mid 20s compared to literally any zelink duo iteration in canon who are a LOT younger is because while those kids are saddled to save a big world and succeed, the adults here are saddled with a similar responsibility, but with a "smaller world" and "fail"

(more notes under here)

Link (Pen)

calico hair!!!! wanted to get sillay with the hair in general so that means THREE colors on the dome

the hair ribbons are a gift from zelda. she told her that the ribbons matched the color of her eyes and that changed her brain chemistry. lmao. gayass.

he has a younger brother (that is still unnamed for now but im tempted to name him colin bc. lol) he love love LOVES him soso much

not really formally trained with using a sword, but his younger brother absolutely drags his ass into learning with him so he knows by proxy

Zelda (Quill)

BIG OL BRAIDS!!! those tassel thingies that frame her face are supposed to replace the crown you normally see in other zeldas. she wears it by literally sewing it into place and her braid plaids are woven into each other. its uber complicated

bugs link a lot to braid her hair even tho hes busy and shes not. he has a bad habit of overworking and annoying him is the only way to get him to stop

this is sort of a timeline placement question too but i REALLY liked botw/totk zeldas blue dress in the memories, the sleeves and silhouette really stuck out to me so i borrowed a lot of elements from that to this one. the belts are definitely a reference older zelda designs though with the tassels

she dresses a lot more casual overall, DEFINITELY only dresses the bare minimum of fanciness of whats expected of her.

[midnightechoes]

Five years ago today, She-Ra and the Princesses of Power premiered on Netflix. I had seen a few preview articles about it, and liked what I saw. Those articles mostly focused on She-Ra’s, Adora’s, Glimmer’s, Bow’s, and Catra’s redesigns, and I thought they were fabulous. I loved Adora’s new red jacket and bouffant hair style. Glimmer’s entire redesign was inspired, and I loved that they made Bow black so we could have more diversity in the main cast.

It was She-Ra’s and Catra’s redesigns that caught my eyes the most, though. They made Catra an actual catgirl, and not just in the anime sense where she's just a cute girl with cat ears and maybe a cat tail. She was a full-on furry. It was a brilliant design choice. Honestly it’s no wonder that so many were instantly drawn to her.

And of course, She-Ra herself. I loved her new look, and her huge ass new Sword of Protection. In fact, I loved it so much that I drew this picture of her before the show even came out:

Then the show came out, and needless to say, I fell in love. And honestly, it changed my life.

I know, I know. That sounds very hyperbolic, and to an extent it is, but in a lot of ways, I’m absolutely serious.

Alright, I have to back up a little. Back when I was in college, and for a few years after, a couple of friends and I tried to make a webcomic called The Devil’s Gate. It was minorly successful but eventually floundered. Then I met some people and we tried to make a video game, which also failed. After those few years, I found myself on my own and trying to rework the concept of my webcomic. Making comics, creating stories, those have always been my dream, and I was desperately trying to figure out a story I could make work, something that I believed in. But it never truly got off the ground. By the end of 2015 I had given up on the comic, realizing that after working on it for years in different forms that I needed to step away from it.

I didn’t really know what to do after that. I was still doing my quick daily doodles, but I wasn’t writing, I wasn’t drawing anything of note. I felt emotionally and physically drained of my creativity. I was honestly getting to the point where I thought it might be time for me to give up on trying to be creative or making things all together.

She-Ra and the Princesses of Power came out on November 13, 2018, but despite looking forward to it, I didn’t actually watch it when it came out. It wasn’t until that weekend that I decided to check it out.

I was instantly hooked. I binged through the entire season in two days, and did plenty of crying and cheering. And then rewatched it immediately. I was in love. I was obsessed. It had been a long time since anything grabbed me like SPOP did. I loved the characters. I loved the colorful, sci-fi-fairy tale world of Etheria. I loved how unapologetically feminine it was. And most of all, I loved how queer it was.

I hadn’t done a ton of shipping before SPOP. I’ve been down bad for harlivy for what feels like my whole life, and I was angry when Mika and HG didn’t get together in Warehouse 13, but more often than not I had just been conditioned not to look for queer things in mainstream culture, and even barely in subculture.

That is to say, when I was smashed in the face with Catradora I was surprised how much I glommed onto it immediately. I was absolutely taken with Adora and Catra and their relationship. Both characters were so relatable, and despite not quite being text (although the subtext was so loud and obvious it might as well have been text), it was impossible to not read their feelings for each other as romantic.

It wasn’t just Catradora, even if that was a lot of it. Spinnerella and Netossa being canon from the start was wonderful. How much Glimmer and Bow screamed “BISEXUAL DISASTERS” from the start was adorable. Scorpia’s crush on Catra was as cute as it was sad in its one-sidedness.

I had never really been in a fandom. That is, yeah I’ve liked things, loved things even, but I never found other people to talk about it at length, never found discords just for that thing, never read or wrote fanfic, barely ever drew fanart. 

But, I watched SPOP, and then I watched it again. And then I drew Catra. And then I drew Adora. And then I drew them again. And suddenly I was on AO3, a site I never frequented, reading Catradora fics. And then I had an AO3 account. That December I participated in Catradora Week 2018 (I’d never heard of this kind of thing) and drew two pictures for it and wrote my first fanfic.

By the end of February I had drawn more in the three months since the show had premiered than I had in the previous year. I was working furiously on a long, multi-chapter fanfic, and writing more words than I had in the previous couple of years combined.

I was inspired again.

In the 18 months that SPOP ran for, I drew more than I had in years, I wrote hundreds of thousands of words. I felt so rejuvenated and happy about my creativity and free for the first time in years.

It’s hard to put into words exactly how it felt. I was so close to giving up my art and writing, which honestly, would have been giving up a part of myself. An important part of myself. It’s not overstating that SPOP saved me, or at least my creative spirit.

I also learned about the wonders of being in a fandom and fandom things like fan weeks, big bangs, zines. And I made some wonderful friends that I cherish to this day.

Even as I inevitably moved onto other hyperfixations, my love for She-Ra hasn’t diminished. Plushie Catra and Adora sit next to me on my desk every day. Catradora art still hangs on my wall.

The inspiration that SPOP ignited in me hasn’t died either. It’s carried me through a tremendous level of creativity that I’ve been riding since the premiere. It let me create a ton of fan art for SPOP, and then RWBY and then the Witch From Mercury, and I’ve written a ton of fanfics for RWBY and Supergirl. And perhaps the best, that inspiration has helped me create more OC stuff in the last couple years than I had in a long time.

I owe She-Ra and The Princesses of Power so much. I am so happy that it exists and that it happened when it did. I’ll always cherish it.

And for real, Netflix, SPOP spin-off movies WHEN?!

[tough-n-dumb]

lullabies

this ficlet is shamelessly inspired by the ending of No Reason to Be Afraid by @insignificant457 because i couldn't get inej wishing kaz a goodnight out of my head. thank you for writing this beautiful pre-canon fic—all credit goes to you!

“Goodnight,” she calls after him, then winces. Goodnight? You’ve just joined a gang, Inej, have a little dignity. He pauses, already halfway out of view, then leans back to look around the doorframe, his eyebrows drawn together in confusion. “Goodnight,” he says stiffly. She gives him a weak smile, which he registers before leaving without further comment.

Read below or read on AO3

It becomes a habit; a nightly routine. A goodnight, Kaz her closing remarks of most evenings—or sometimes in the dark and early hours of the morning, depending on the day. More often than not, he’ll murmur it back. If he doesn’t, she’ll give him a little tsk and a hushed, chiding manners before slipping out the window. 

They spend more time together than she thought they would—probably more than he thought as well. But after jobs, she begins to linger, the windowsill in his attic rooms now her designated perch. From it, she can watch both him and the city like the spy he’s crafting her into. She likes to dangle her feet into the cool air and observe the stars that burst through Ketterdam’s cloudy sky. They’re in different places in the night sky here than in the Ravkan plains and mountains, but the constellations are familiar. She is so far from home, but the longer she spends in the Slat, in her perch in this dangerous boy’s room, the more the definition of home starts to change (though for her, home has always been other people). 

She sometimes uses variations like sleep well or sweet dreams though she knows he’ll most likely have neither. She tries not to worry about that; tries not to listen to his pacing above her, the way his bed will creak in the middle of the night from him tossing and turning. She can only imagine what he sees when he closes his eyes in the dark. She understands what it’s like to face your demons even in sleep. 

When she uses these softer variations, he’ll often smirk and offer a wry remark in return. Something along the lines of, “What’s next Wraith, you’ll sing me lullabies?”

“Maybe if you ask nicely,” she shoots back. She gets comfortable, teasing him like this, and it pleases her that he doesn’t seem to let anyone else get away with it. 

But what neither of them know—and how could they?—is that years down the line when those same nightmares come knocking she will do just that, lending him the lilting words her parents sang to lull her to sleep whispered into his hair, the rich Suli consonants curling around them in the darkness. Their voices, they find, are one of the best ways to bring each other back from the crumbling ledge of their memories—though they’ve always known to some degree that that was the case. 

One night, she’s reclined on the sill, legs stretched out and head tilted back, the warmth of summer bathing over her even after the sun has set. She yawns and rubs her eyes, and when she opens them, Kaz is staring at her. He clears his throat and looks away, shuffling some papers on his desk in a manner she knows is just for show. 

“Go rest, Inej.” It’s a dismissal, but not an unkind one. Simply a directive. She nods, rubs her eyes once more and sits up all the way, about to wish him a goodnight when—

“Goodnight. Sleep well.” He mumbles it while still staring down at his mess of papers. 

She freezes and lowers her hands, a big smile spreading on her face. 

“What was that?”

“Go to bed, Inej.”

“Oh, no, that’s not what you said.” She is absolutely grinning now, much too pleased that she’s taught her Barrel boy niceties. She thinks his face is slowly turning pink, the tips of his ears bright with color. 

When he finally looks up at her, she feels her chest tighten at the sight. His eyes are so dark they’re nearly black in the room’s low light. The shadows crease his face into hard lines, but yes, there it is—a high blush spreading across his sharp cheeks. 

“Goodnight,” he finally repeats. “And have the sweetest of dreams, darling.” He’s injected a gratuitous amount of sarcasm into the words, but the way his eyes dart over her face—and, she thinks, settle on her lips before he looks back down at his desk—gives him away. 

“Goodnight, Kaz,” she says before slipping into the night. Tonight, she isn’t plagued with her usual nightmares. Tonight, she dreams of a leather-clad hand in hers, warmed by the sun, and sea breeze in her hair.

[mariipun]

Adventures of Wally & The Gang (plus their Caretaker)

Off Script Shenanigans 

Warnings: None. Humor, wholesome content.

Word Count: 1,513

Brief Description: The Welcome Home cast is alive and live alongside humans. You have been contracted to be their Caretaker, tending to their needs, schedule, and keeping them from (getting themselves into) bad publicity. The gang has some downtime on set, entertaining themselves or each other with nonsensical activities to pass the time as the Technical Director works on fixing the issues.

Welcome Home belongs to @partycoffin [in no means is my work canon]

Dedication: @kandavers 

[ /I hope this gives you a little serotonin boost, I’m cheering you on from my side of the world! ]

.

.

The studio was as energetic as ever. Production had halted due to technical difficulties that needed to be resolved. You lazily sat on one of the deck chairs, elbow on the armrest, cheek leaning against your palm as you scanned across the set and watched some of the cast members. You were glad to get a break and off your feet.

[Eyes first land on Sally]

Sally was going over the script, suggesting certain scenes to be revised with the Director, and penciling in changes.

Sally: “I just think we really should include a song during this scene, making it more—lively, ya know?”  

You overheard her conversation, chuckling as the Director gave her a puzzled look. You weren’t sure how much more ‘lively’ the show could be with the beautiful array of bright colors and every other episode already containing musical numbers. “Oh! Maybe even a dance sequence—”

[Eyes pan towards Poppy]

You watched as the red fluff of feathers hummed to herself, sitting near a basket of props. You couldn’t tell what she was doing exactly, but it looked like she was probably knitting something? Well, she had her hobbies outside of teaching children their ABC’s.

[Next, you saw Julie]

Julie: “Howdy-ho neighbors! Come tour the Welcome Home set with me!”

A small smile formed on your lips as you watched the bubbly puppet hold her phone slightly above her face as she chatted with fans on her live feed.

Your eyes trained on her for a minute as she walked about, introducing some of the wardrobe designers and makeup artists that work on her outfits, looks, and so on. As she moved on, you kept watching as Julie draped an arm around Wally’s shoulders before he could snatch up one of the apples sitting at the spread table, adjusting her phone so both were in the frame of view.

Julie: “Wally Darling, say hello to everyone!”

Wally: “Well hello dear neighbors! Hope you’re all looking forward to the next episode.” He waved, smiling.

Barnaby soon came up from behind the two with a large grin, saying hello as well. You could tell the chat was going absolutely insane getting to interact with them. You giggled at their antics, happy that they got to spend some time with people from all around the world, even if it wasn’t during one of their face-to-face meet-and-greets.

Probably one of the many things you admired about them.

Although sometimes crazy (and difficult to handle), they were always dedicated to entertaining the masses with wholesome content. On camera anyhow. It was your job to make sure no scandalous rumors ended up in the media; constantly protecting their image off screen. You’d hate to see the show canceled, especially since you were dedicated not only to the basis of the show but because you deeply cared for them.

Julie: “Oh! Barnaby, someone asked how many things you’re able to juggle at once.”

Barnaby: “Well, let’s see. Hey, lil’ buddy, toss me a few of those apples will ya?”

Julie released her light hold on Wally, flipping the camera so she could point the phone toward the pair. She stepped back as Wally began gently tossing a few apples in Barnaby’s direction. The blue mass caught them with ease, beginning to juggle. 1…2...3…4….

Barnaby: “Ha! Too easy, c’mon, toss me a few more.”

Julie: “Oh, oh! Someone also said to make it more challenging.”

Wally: “Guess we just have to give our dear neighbors what they’re asking for.” He muses, scanning the spread table and grabbing one of the bananas, then tossing it toward Barnaby.

Again, catching it with ease, Barnaby chuckled as he nodded toward the soda cans. Wally picked one up, tossing them his way.

Barnaby: “…5….6!” The juggling continued, items being tossed a bit higher to make some space as he caught and tossed, and tossed, and tossed.

Julie: “Think you can handle any more?”

Barnaby: “I’m the Great Barnaby B. Beagle, nothing can stop me now!”

Wally looked over, pondering what to toss his friend next. He decided on some sunglasses, then grabbed one of the bowling pin props and a small stress ball out of a box one of the stagehands was carrying as they scooted by.

Wally: “…7…8….9….”

You continued to watch, tilting your head up slightly as Barnaby’s juggling began to waver and then steady.

Barnaby: “Let’s make it an even 10. Toss me one more please.”

There weren’t many other options readily available until Wally saw one of the saran-wrapped sandwiches on the table. Picking it up, he tossed it but misjudged the distance as Barnaby jolted to catch it. Stepping forward, he caught it, but it threw off the balance of the juggled circle and the items began slightly leaning more and more until Barnaby began staggering toward you.

You perked up, stiffening. You noticed he was moving toward one of the cables on the floor, which was unfortunately not taped down to prevent a tripping hazard.

Caretaker: “Barnaby, wait—”

Too late.

Barnaby: “Whoa--!” The puppet’s foot was caught underneath the cable, the apples, banana, sandwich, sunglasses, bowling pin prop, stress ball, and can of soda flying in your direction.

Everything crashed down around you, save for the soda can, which plummeted right in front of you. The sheer velocity of the aluminum can hitting the ground had enough force to burst, a steady, but violent stream of soda onto your face. (Did everything that went wrong have to be an overly exaggerated gag bit?)

You held your hands out to try and shield yourself, aggressively coughing as you accidentally inhaled the fizzy beverage through your nose. After what felt like an eternity, it finally stopped blasting in your face.

Both Wally and Julie were immediately by your side, asking if you were okay, while Barnaby repeatedly apologized from the ground. You could hear the commotion around you as Sally ran to grab a towel, Poppy squawking in concern somewhere in the background.

Wally: “Care, are you okay?” He asked, reaching over, and gently placing a hand on your arm. “Are you hurt—” He stopped, eyes widening slightly as you began to laugh under your breath, which soon turned into loud, boisterous laughter.

You didn’t quite open your eyes since the soda stung, but you couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdity of the situation. Doubling over, you just couldn’t stop yourself from cracking up. Both Wally and Julie sighed in relief, smiling as you confirmed you were okay. As you calmed down from your fit of laughter, you thanked Sally for the towel and wiped your face.

Wally: “Well, I’m glad you’re alright Caretaker. It’s also nice to see you having more fun.”

Julie: “Yeah! You have such a wonderful laugh! You should do that more often.”

Barnaby: “Pfft—you call that a laugh? It was more of like a goose hon—” His mouth shut automatically as you gave the blue puppet a warning glance. “Uh.. ha, ha, ha. I mean, your laugh is fantastic Care!” He backtracked before standing and looking you over. Placing his hands on his hips, he shifted his weight to one leg, smiling down at you. “But, it does sound refreshing to finally have you let loose.”

You shake your head, wrapping the towel around your shoulders.

Julie: “Oh! Right!” Julie swapped her phone camera again, leaning closer and placing you both in the frame. “Hey, hey neighbors! Crisis averted! They’re A-O.K.! But let me also introduce you to the most important member of the Welcome Home Cast! This is our dear Caretaker! They work super hard!”

Wally: “That’s right. They always take great care of us.” He adds, leaning closer despite the threat of getting his felt sticky.

Sally: “And they’re super cool!”

Barnaby: “Not to mention, a real spitfire.” He nudged your shoulder gently once he made his way to you.

At this point, Poppy, Eddie, Howdy, and Frank had appeared, joining in the cascade of praises. You were a bit too stunned to speak, not quite used to being complimented so much. You definitely weren’t anticipating this. You were skeptical at first, but their words were truly genuine as each of the cast members looked over to you with smiles reaching all the way up to their eyes. You heard and saw the swift pings of comments from the fans, not being able to read all of them, but catching a glimpse of the ‘hello Caretaker’, ‘keep doing your best’, and ‘you’re incredible’.

Caretaker: “I… thank you….” You replied sheepishly, feeling your face begin to flush. You reached up, grabbing one of the ends of the towel that was wrapped around your shoulders, bringing it up to your nose to hide the blush that had formed.

All cast members, in unison: “No, thank YOU, Caretaker!”

[Bonus]

You would later clean yourself up and ended up scolding Barnaby, Wally, and Julie about the dangers of carelessly tossing so many things in the air without properly considering their surroundings. Someone could have seriously gotten hurt after all. 

[yumedoca]

The Visual Genius Behind UY2022 [Animation]- An Analysis 🧐 (Long Post)

Hai there, hope you’re having a great day! Today on ‘Yuca Analyzes Silly Things (For No Reason)’, we’ll be talking the next half about how the remake uses different methods and techniques to achieve the fun aesthetic it’s known for as well as analyzing colors!

Note: There’s a lot to talk about when it comes to this topic, so I might not be able to cover ‘everything’, So I’m only analyzing sub- topics which comes to mind. And all of my sayings are merely observations based on what is shown and is not canonical fact in how the series was made (there’s the chance that a different approach was used as well after all). They are not confirmed unless specifically mentioned.

You can read Part 1 here!

And with all of that aside, let’s begin!

First, We’ll divide the analysis into sections to make it easier to understand and explain, for this part we’ll be talking about:

But, first…

Colors, colors and colors!

Smooth and Fun Animation

Miscellaneous

Conclusion

But, first… …I want to talk about something I missed previously, which I was reminded by the notes in one of the reblogs, which is.. The shape of Lum’s eyes (I’ve thought of this before but I forgot to write about it). Lum’s eyes in the remake are a bit different to how it is in the later parts of the manga. There, it shares the same shape as Shinobu’s eyes for example, but here it looks more like her earlier eye design:

Why this? I’ve though about it and I was reminded of a RT interview I had read where she said:

Of course, Lum’s eyes changed as time went because of her artistic evolution, but I think this might be one of the reasons her ‘slanted’ eyes were kept, as in to pay homage to the early art style. It could also be because they wanted to give her more unique eye shape compared to the other girls…

Colors, colors and colors! Now onto one of my favorite things in general….

…Color Palettes (and monochrome colors as well, but we’ll include that in this for now because I don’t want to create a separate section for that one)!! I absolutely love the remake’s use of colors!! In general they make scenes even more eye catching than they normally would, but there are cases where the use of color palettes are complete genius, which I will prove with a few examples…

Our first example is from episode 1, when Ataru meets Lum’s dad. When the scenes swaps from Lum’s dad’s greeting to Ataru screaming “ONIII!!” The background with Mr. Invader (Not his actual name, but I’m calling him that because it’s easier) gets color paletted (I’m pretty sure that’s not a word but whatever…). If you look closely and if you’re familiar with Japanese mythology, you can see that Lum’s dad is colored red with light yellow horns…. Just like the actual Oni from the myths…

I also love how well colors are used to elevate extreme emotions, most often shock or surprise…

(Lmao, I just realized both siblings had the exact same SHOCK sequence… I do have to note that the duplicating method adds to the sequence as well…)

That’s all the images I’ll show since these are pretty easy to find… The aspect that makes this better is the fact that since in the 80’s cell animation couldn’t have stuff like blending modes and special effects and stuff that digital animation has nowadays, they had to rely on color usage like this as well…

So at the same time it’s like a nice little shout out to cell animation in general…

And also a moment of appreciation of how this scene was handled…

Since the manga is in black and white, you can’t tell the difference between ink and blood since they’re both colored black. It’s a bait which is difficult to convey into anime because it’s in color and blood and ink are suddenly no longer alike because of the colors, the remake manages to convey it with the power of color palettes and monochrome colors it had in the first place as shown above for a well done bait joke… And finally, it’s just outright pretty…

Smooth and Fun Animation Now to talk about the animation itself! First up we have a small detail I like. Do you know about the method used to make the animation extra fluid and kinda cartoony by drawing in something that doesn’t seem right in the frame but helps in the animation overall (I don’t know what it’s called)? Well, this particular method results in a frame or two in a scene to look like:

It’s a method the original anime used A LOT for it’s characters, even for that particular era. Since most modern anime aren’t doesn’t have a cartoony style like UY, they don’t use it (they use other methods instead). So what about the remake???

Yup, the remake has it’s moments as well.. The animation in general is like most modern anime with some cartoonish movements from more cartoony characters like Ataru (pictured above and) and Rei (Cow-Pig form). I also love how beautiful the animation is in the second half of episode 5 and 10, most of the details are pretty obvious there so I won’t talk about it, but here’s one of the smaller details I like…

GIF by Kedyanime

I love how the clouds move slowly, like how it naturally would, like they didn’t have to do that yet they did it anyway and that’s quite the effort and it adds to the scene overall…

Miscellaneous This section is more about the miscellaneous aspects, or to be specific ,three other things I noted which also contributes to the animation aspect. First up, SFX. SFX is what you call the Japanese Onomatopoeia (or sound effects) which is written on screen. It’s mostly used in manga than anime because manga isn’t an audible type of media, unlike anime, which is. Because of that, not many anime uses it and only a certain do, which includes the UY remake. Not only does it add a bit more to the scene, but it also makes it more enjoyable because of the voice acting since the voice actors read every SFX out, where it sounds silly enough (in Japanese at least, the English dub is on a whole different level). Next up, Backgrounds. Okay, so when I started the remake’s first episode I was in awe as to how the backgrounds for the scenes look, like it’s very pastel compared to the saturated colors of everything else, not to mention, very detailed…

Also, let’s appreciate how beautiful the backgrounds for outer space looks…

Another thing I like is the stock backgrounds, stock backgrounds are pretty common in anime, but I love how the remake uses it to play up and convey the character’s emotion by making the stock lines move according to how their expressions elevate…

Moving on, Can we appreciate how retro and traditional it looks when they color like this (this is actually based on a method of coloring from the 80’s after all)??

And finally appreciation for the beautiful lighting…

Conclusion And that is All! The remake is absolutely stunning with very beautiful details which I can’t help but love and you can really see a lot of love was put into it. This ended up being more of an appreciation post than an analysis, lol 😅. Anyways, I apologize if I’ve overlooked anything or made any mistakes. If you have any doubts or questions about this analysis feel free to send an ask and if you want me to do an analysis about other characters, feel free to send an ask for that as well. You can check out my other analysis on my analysis tag.  And finally, likes are appreciated and reblogs are even more appreciated (seriously, please reblog this so more people can see this post, since I spent a lot of time on this!!). Hope you have a great day ahead!! :)

[pastelwhile-art]

it'd absolutely make my day too some makokuu from you (i loved that illustration of them im insane about them)

what about some domestic makokuu 👀 them spending time together at home :3 no pressure ofc

Help I know I asked for saiki k requests TWO months ago and I had a really fun idea for an illustration, but my brain is a smooth cube. so that idea stays up in the air.

For now take a really quick silly crack doodle about one of the many possibilities I think Kusuke/Makoto telling Saiki/Teruhashi would go. Spoiler alert: it’s hilariously horrible.

(Saiki thinks they’re messing with them and Teruhashi is seething. Are they pranking them? Who knows.)

And ya know what? Beneath the cut take my redesigns of these guys and my notes for them because I made several months ago ‘cause I haven’t touched them since :(

Warning: I talk a lot.

A quick note! These designs aren’t meant to say ‘fix’ the original-they’re just for fun! Even if I think elements of mine look better, clearly the original works and are well loved. Also I’m not especially fond of these anyways JAJSJANW

Saiki doesn’t change much other than his palette is a more balanced. Also I really like designing hair, and wanted the idea that Saiki really tries to sleek it down to something very generic and unassuming, but the hairpins get stuck in the way and his hair sorta moves outwards from there. Continuing the idea that his powers make him subtly less normal. It also accidentally made him look A LOT more like his parents, oops.

Also I drew a comparison from his canon hair to his redesign, because I didn’t think it was particularly clear until side by side.

Also I actually gave this one a proper illustration lol.

Teruhashi’s design was actually partly inspired by @lu-kario’s human mlp designs because they’re really good :^ She’s also pretty standard except her hair and color (which I’m not too satisfied with.)

I like the idea of the Teruhashi Siblings being a bit supernatural, so along with weird shine effects, they also get constant wind effects! Like in all the anime where they have flowing hair at just the right times even though it wasn’t windy at all before? Yeah! Except that’s more Makoto’s thing while the shine stays Kokomi’s.

Also what ethnicity are these characters now? To me they’re still Japanese, but I think people don’t ever use a range of skin tones for the same ethnicity. But really these are just fun designs I didn’t really think too hard.

Kusuke! He was the first one I did and an absolute PAIN. He was also the reason I did this, because as much as I love Saiki K and respect the author, I just got to know what is going on with his debut clothes.

Well not like I did that much better… Kusuke is stuck with four alt palettes because I can’t decide which shade of weird yellow and purple to make his head and gown (I’ve resolved to draw his hair a different shade of yellow in every drawing.) His eyes also match Saiki with purple eyes, because I think they look better lmao.

Also, that’s his Cambridge gown he’s wearing. And fun fact-they have a great amount of rules on what color does gowns get an accent of based off what subject people are taking! I decided to not think too hard on that and just gave him a better looking gown.

And I really like the hair I gave him, the original to me just lacks a bit of anime shape style. Also his headgear is shaped like a graduation hat now lol.

He also has a silly little doodle for what he’d look like with his lab coat. It’s not here, but I like to think he always puts a ponytail up!

Last and also least xp, Makoto! He’s uhh about the same with the points I said with Teruhashi. Just very angular now. I swear I tried to design a better fashion for Makoto but I just ended up with the same.

I tried to style his hair how Japanese celebrities would, but I don’t know if I succeeded. His hair as I said is constantly blowing to the left lol. Also he has a hair clip now! In my head Kusuke gives him a telepathy canceller disguised as a hairclip.

Also anyone can draw or get inspired by these designs if you wanted lol Though I don’t really like these, I still use these hairstyle for drawing them cause I think they look cool lol.

[growling]

Design + general notes (nope, I am Not able to stay focused on just one thing at a time)

Basically some 4chan graduate scientists got bored and decided to make a real life catperson hybrid, as one does. And like. Listen. Listen I did intend it to be just a little silly goofy au but you've gotta understand the implifications 1) Yomi is still trans and he will be in every universe, officially making him a biochemically engineered Catgirl at first 2) there is basically zero point or purpose in creating such thing that would benefit society in any way unlike the homunculi at least. Like, you know why they made him. Like I'm not gonna say it but you know the sole reason they went out of their way to make him

*sigh* If anyone asks. His father was a cat and his first mother was an european and his second mother was a hentai themed incubator and his third mother was head scientist Anon but she didn't liek him

Ages a lot slower than a cat, and a lot faster than a human, he's like, somewhere in the middle. Was like a young teenager at 2 years. Adulted at 4. At the time of the BW he was like, 5. They made a homunculus out of him just to test whether it would even work and it actually did? Which is how he's still alive.

Not the director definitely lmaoo (let's give that title to Martina), wasn't allowed outside the lab until Makoto was born noticed he exists and said "hey whatbtye fFUCK" before brutally killing everybody in that building and taking Yomi to his house and honestly just never telling anyone about him existing either. Aside from maybe Martina and a few peacekeepers but that's just cause they regularly bust down his door every few days there is kinda no way to just keep a secret from them

Currently: part-time (too disabled for the normal work week also he doesn't want to and will bite you if you make him + sleeps through most of the day anyway) working as a maid for Makoto yes he still hates him but in a fun way now, full-time director Martina's secret fucked up advisor that doesn't really get whatever it is the peacekeepers are doing he is mostly just trying to have evil t4t sex with her. He's succeeding btw she is in Love to a near unhealthy degree

Significantly more chilled out (or is he.) than his canon counterpart, still a massive asshole

Slightly uncanny. Cat-shaped eyes with pupils that change size very frequently. Makoto never knew true fear before he went to the kitchen at 3am once and saw these fuckers dilating in the distance

Got cat ears (no extra human ears. just cat ones) and a tail. Let's say it's the longhair kind. He can also "bristle" which can make some of his hair (tail onviously, on head, on arms, you know) stand on end. Very annoying for him cause it ruins his hair a lot.

Six nipples but got mastectomy on four for Aesthetic Appeal, so he looks like he got a normal chest sans the scars if he puts a shirt on

Got claws that need to be trimmed very frequently so they won't hurt him. Originally the facility - let's just call them CatgirlCorp for now kay - considered just declawing him but it'll look ugly as fuck so they just hired some guy to trim them every few days. He usually does that himself nowadays

CAN: purr (but pretty weird, like a "mhhhhh" instead of "prrrrrr"), hiss, growl, meow (all of the former sound pretty Weird though), has a more sensitive sense of smell than humans. CAN'T: groom himself like a cat (has a normal tongue. purposefully), digest a lot of food humans eat (do not give him chocolate or caffeine or alcohol or literally anything tbh), see as many colors as humans do (cat vision but slightly better than an actual cat), real shitty reflexes, no whiskers + no money + no future

SO many health problems. Help him

Fine with homunculi (usually), really hates humans, especially men, and will, at absolute best spit and hiss and scream at you if you're one and in his vicinity, and at worst try and enact what his ancestors have done to the average endangered native songbird if you're Yakou and pathetically lying on the floor in his vicinity.

I think Yuma actually would get caught by the peacekeepers when he's hiding in the penthouse at ch3 simply because Yomi would very loudly want him dead, and if he weren't (which I honestly. Don't think he'd see Yuma as much of a threat, like, have you seen him? Have you seen that pathetic wet little meow meow?), then he's gonna give away his location the first chance he gets simply because he likes Martina more than Makoto. She asks if Mako is perchance hiding a detective back then and Yomi immediately jumps out at her and yells "HE'S IN THE BEDROOM QUEEN ILY!!!!!!!" while bonking her ribcage. Like what's Makoto gonna do to him huh lmaoooooo

Doesn't like cats either he sees them as competition. He'd try and attack them

Probably still scheming in some way or another but I've ran out of ideas at this hour. Any thoughts from the chat anything you wanna add

Suddenly remembering my first biochemically engineered catboy Yomi post again

[google-drawings-warriors]

Purple eyes :]

[no-droids]

Home

gif credit: @javier-pena

Part Eighteen of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 19.5K

Warnings: SMUT, religion kink (maybe?), squirting, consensual stalking/pursuing, canon-typical violence, mention of underage drinking, uhh I believe that’s it but as always, let me know if I’ve forgotten anything please!

A/N: Hey yall!!!  So I know this chapter has been a long time coming and though I’m not completely satisfied with it, I hope it brings a little happiness to you for an hour or two while you read!  School has been kicking my ass and I’ve been in a bit of an emotional slump recently, but I pulled a few all-nighters to post this on time and it’s finally finished!  Thank you to everyone who has stuck with me and sent me encouraging words over the past month or so, I hope you enjoy the end of the Sanctuary arc💕

Also like last time, part 2 of my collaboration with @followwhereshegoes will be posted after the chapter!!  As a reminder, sweet girl is a reader insert and every imagining of her will be different—this is Lisa’s interpretation of her and her artwork is absolutely gorgeous, so please go give her a follow!

Day 5–11:13am:

You zone out again in the early morning, but that happens a lot.  Din always keeps you up so late, all the time, and without any caf here, the rising sun just makes your eyes droop instead of flutter brighter and wider.  You helped a bunch of younglings find their way into their robes when it was still dark out, tying sashes and fitting masks while holding back your yawns.  The walk into Nariss is close to three hours, probably more with all these tiny little legs, and you almost forget to change into your new digs before everyone grabs breakfast.

Even though your ragtag entourage leaves for Nariss just as soon as everyone finishes eating, you don’t reach the city until nearly lunchtime.  Mostly because the kids walk about as fast as the elderly holy women chaperoning the trip.  You and Naydee lag behind the group, forcing yourself to meander slow as fuck when you nearly sprinted this same exact path just a few days ago.  On the way there, you listen to children of all sorts sing happily as they walk, chatter about their excitement for the parade, complain about wearing the fabric mask they made themselves, and more than once, somebody takes a tumble onto the ground and is left in teary sniffles and dirt stained clothes.  Likely for this reason, the robes are designed to be two pieces—a long tunic with a hood and a separate pants portion to prevent tripping instead of a draping skirt, but the smallest ones are clumsy and find a way to fall anyways.

It’s a colorful bunch—a chaotic rainbow of babies running around, and you share easy conversation with your new friend about the plans for the day until she asks something that makes you nearly trip and join the dirty robe club.

“Sister Drya said your family is meeting you in the city,” she tells you, ignoring your immediate subtle toe stub and the awkward shuffle you have to do to make up for it.  “There’s going to be lots of people downtown, I’m worried it might be hard for them to find you.”

Your heart thuds in your chest and you feel a bit short of breath at being abruptly confronted with the need to lie, but at the same time, you kind of love it.  Having a secret, hiding the truth from others, and just the reminder that you’re almost guaranteed to see Din and the baby before midnight pours warmth and tingles through your tummy.  Everything together is a hit of spice, filling you with a kind of excitement that used to be foreign to you.  Having fun, experiencing new things isn’t quite over yet, but home is calling and you miss it with every fiber of your being.

“I don’t think so,” you eventually respond, hoping she can see your kind smile and the sentiment it carries even as light, shimmery fabric wraps right around your mouth.  “If I disappear, you’ll know why.”

Naydee’s eyes crinkle in the corners to match yours.  “Hopefully you’ll be able to see the fireworks first,” she nudges you, her skin glowing against the pale cream fabric she has wrapped around her own mouth and the hood laying delicately over her braids.  “They start at eight.”

The fireworks, you almost forgot.  You know what?  Today is a good day.  You hear yourself think the full sentence multiple times, and the words put a spring in your step after every single one.  The road gradually becomes wider and filled with more travelers, and you feel safe in the back.  Like some kind of sheepdog bringing up the rear of this migrating cluster of children, making sure none of them drift off by themselves and start eating grass or something.

Surprisingly, the kids manage to be relatively patient and well-behaved once they’re in line at the gates.  The Sisters shuffle them along one by one as everyone moves up slowly, taking even longer to get into the city than it did a few days ago.  The entrance is packed already—so many people visiting for the festival, and they’re all dressed in costumes or robes of sorts, or at least a mask.  Most are beautifully crafted, but some manage to look slightly scary even with the soft springtime color schemes.  It’s a completely different world, a different life for each person as you pass them by.  Your stomach is starting to growl by the time you finally make it to the front, and luckily the guards just let the kids through without any ceremony.  Just you and the rest of the caretakers in light robes need to hold still for the retinal scan, matching each other perfectly except for differing shades of fabric, skin, and eye color.  Once the gates open for you and you step through, though… it’s… Maker.

Extravagant, magnificent are both words.  Floral is another.

It’s like they hung up bouquets wherever they could think to fit them, and this is just the edge of the city.  As the group moves through the streets and closer to downtown, it becomes more and more overwhelming.  The air itself is a warm fragrance wafting all around you, sunshiney and breezy and perfect, flowers of all kinds lining the modern buildings and archways like they were planted there from the very beginning and it just took this long to bloom between the cracks in the concrete.  You wish you had names for all of them so you could list them—the only thing you can offer is the color and vague descriptions of the ones that stick out to you.  Tiny yellow ones that are so small, they need to be bunched all together in massive quantities to even resemble normal flowers.  Up overhead, elaborate arrangements of enormous blue and purple and pink ones, wrapping around each other and hanging down from rooftops.  Some don’t even have petals, it’s like they’re big green cups that are big enough to hold things inside them.  You’re fascinated by every single one, wanting to stop and smell them all individually but needing to keep up with the large group and not allow any stragglers to be left behind, including yourself.

About an hour later, when you’re almost in the middle of the city and there are people everywhere, it’s time to eat lunch.  There isn’t much to it because of how expensive it is, and you’d normally feel bad for accepting the small meal each one of the children gets, but you donated all of your credits to the Keja and left absolutely zero for yourself.  Good intentions, terrible idea.  Still, you pull your mask down and snack on some deliciously fried food, trying not to eye anyone else’s platter after you finish yours.  It’s so good and it’s gone in an instant; you couldn’t even say what exactly it was besides which stall you got it at.  Whether it’s just the brilliant atmosphere or if the food on this moon is really just that good, you’re not really sure, but you’re still slightly hungry afterwards with no extra money to sneak a snack.

Soon after, the kids all line up to get their faces painted, or whatever portion of their face is visible behind the cloth masks and hoods they’ve got on, and music blares from at least four different directions and none of the songs are even in the same language.  Depending on the part of town, it seems like the celebrations are all different.  It makes sense, considering most if not all of these individuals were victims of the Empire’s wrath, spread far and wide across the galaxy.  Here, they’re free, and they want everyone to know it.  Spring festivals of some sort are likely common for most cultures, at least those from planets with seasons, not like Arvala-7 where it was arid and hot year-round, and you’re assuming there are multiple things being celebrated today depending on which street you live on.  There’s chanting in different tongues, dancing and drums, outfits and masks from different cultures every single time you look.

At some point, the children spot a crowded street with flowery rails set up all along them, and you stand behind the tiny heads while everyone waits for the parade to begin.  You think your heart has just been beating slightly faster than normal all day today, but when you finally hear the sound of sirens blaring in the distance and cheers begin to pour out from the gathered crowd, it kicks up and you feel like you’re just as wide eyed at the spectacle as the waist-high babies all huddled together up against the railing.

A flurry of people and things pass in slow succession.  First, New Republic officers with their blaring holobikes, bright orange as always.  Then come large groups of people walking behind banners in languages you can’t read, some of them waving, some of them making different sounds and songs.  Bands marching in formation, dancers in dresses and masks and gorgeous flowers in their hair like crowns, and then brilliant hovering vehicles decorated in bright colors and festive depictions.  The craftsmanship and cultural significance is stunning to witness, it’s so insanely loud, there’s so much going on, and yet…

Through it all, you think of Din.  No matter the faces, the sights you see.  There’s someone juggling.  There���s either a very tall man and woman walking together or they’re both on stilts.  There are enormous balloons being led through the air, people are riding atop an assortment of animals you’ve never seen before, there are traditional costumes and spectacular stunts being performed.  Stalls with games and prizes line the stretches of concrete on the cross streets, people are laughing and celebrating and drinking in equal parts, everything is so lively and festive and fun, and yet, though it all, you think of Din.  Him and the baby, they’re always in the forefront of your mind, occupying your thoughts and making your tummy stir more and more as the time passes like the parade in front of you.  You don’t think this environment would ever be his favorite, and in some far away galaxy, perhaps if you lived other lives together and called a beautiful moon exactly like this home, then you might have to drag him out to see all the with you and the kid every year.  You’d have to bat your eyelashes and kiss his cheek and snuggle up to him all nice and pretty like, and he’d probably grumble and complain about it while wrapping his arms around you—all the people and the noise, sweet girl—but he’d go.  For you, he’d go.

Your thoughts suddenly stop short and you blink for a second.  Why… Why was that scene so vivid?  So wistful?  You used to preoccupy yourself with fantasies about Din all the time, back before you even knew him as Din.  But in every single one, it was sexual and likely came from a place of boredom, a lack of external stimulation.  Here you are amidst bustling surroundings, and you’re daydreaming about domesticity with him.  Why?  You want to travel the galaxy, right?  You want to see things you’ve never seen before, right?

For some reason, you think of the floor, and you miss it.

***

Day 5—5:04pm:

It’s late afternoon at this point and nobody can find the teens.

More people have made their way into the city and it’s starting to get extremely fucking crowded, especially where you are downtown, and the handful of them must’ve slipped away with all the excitement happening and how difficult it is to keep the young ones together now that the parade is over.  You don’t know how long they’ve been gone—one second they were walking around just slightly detached from the rest of you, you assumed because the boisterous younglings fucked with their cool vibe, and then the next Naydee is gasping out to you that they’re gone.

“Sister Drya is going to kill me,” she hisses, her dark eyebrows furrowed in self-admonishment and stress.  So many fucking people here, you know her pain.  “I was supposed to be chaperoning them, they were just here—”

She shakes her head under the loose, cream-colored hood, groaning and then speeding up her gait to catch up with the woman in charge, but you decide to grab her wrist before she can relay the bad news.  

“I can go find them,” you offer, speaking as low as you can with the blaring noise surrounding you.  “Before anyone knows they’re missing.  Is there a way to convince everybody to stay in one spot for a little while?  You won’t get in trouble, but I need to know how to find you again.”

Naydee’s eyes widen in surprise, and even though it’s likely a bit out of character for you, you have a feeling it’ll be a deceptively easy task.  Even with the masses right now and how atrociously big this city is, you already have a general idea of where they’re likely to be.  Besides, you’re not even sure your absence will be noticed if Naydee is the only one who figured out the teens were gone—the other Sisters can thrive without you while missing anyone else would be noticeable, and you owe your new friend a thousand favors for helping you out these past few days.  The least you can do is save her from the scolding of one of the scariest old ladies you've ever met.

“Be as quick as you can,” she finally agrees.  It’s a lot of trust to put into you, but you’ve had experience in reading the most unreadable man in the entire galaxy, some teenagers shouldn’t pose too much of a problem.  “If you’re not back in thirty minutes or somebody notices, I’ll have to say something.”

You nod, silently breaking away from the group without another word.  You think you can hear her announce to everyone that it might be best to eat dinner now to skip any long lines later—smart—but you’re out of their hearing range and line of sight almost immediately.

***

Day 5–5:17pm:

“Really?”  You raise an eyebrow since they won’t be able to see the way your mouth is twisted up underneath your mask, crossing your arms and tapping your foot against the ground to further illustrate just how not fucking impressed you are.

Seven teenagers freeze, and slowly—depending on how much bravery they can individually muster—they turn around on their stools to face you.  The atmosphere in the tavern is bustling and cheery, booze being passed around a large crowd that laughs and mingles, but your vibe is stone cold and quiet.  The contrast doesn’t feel wrong on you like it normally would; the negative and disapproving energy you’re emitting makes you feel powerful, untouchable, armored and strong.

“How did you find us so fast?”  One of the twin boys squeaks out behind a light blue robe, sounding worried.

“Had a hunch,” you grumble, glaring sternly at each of them in turn.  Your tone is dry, your voice sits lower in your throat when you’re pissed off.  All you had to do was look for the closest bar that doesn’t have any orange jumpsuits poking around waiting to card underage younglings, it wasn’t that difficult.  “You’re not exactly unpredictable.”

“Are you gonna rat us out?”  The other twin asks you, in a voice that’s oddly deep compared to his brother.

“I should,” you snap, quickly reaching out to push their drinks away.  “I should let Sister Drya rain down her holy fury on your asses, got good people all twisted up over you for nothing and I’m missing dinn—”

You don’t know why, but you suddenly cut yourself off and jerk upright, spinning around.

The sounds of glasses clinking and boisterous voices fill the bar, but they seem to fade out for a second.  Your eyes fly around the crowded space, your heart lodged in your throat and looking for anything reflective.  Every flash you see is a false alarm—belt buckle, wristwatch, cocktail shaker—

He’s here… isn’t he?

Only, there’s nothing.  Nothing is out of place, nothing jumps out at you the way you’re assuming it will.  You’re braced taut and ready to bolt at the first sign of a chase, but it never comes.

It’s so… unexpected, this feeling.  It’s not like you’re being hunted anymore, but instead, you’re the hunter.  You’re feeling the weight of him from this far away and it’s like he’s calling for you to come find him, teasing the wild adrenaline rush you get from just feeling his presence, as if he absolutely knows it happens.  Whispering soft in your ear and then vanishing the second you’re able to turn around, like he’s here but he’s not.  Playing with you from so far away.

This… this is a taunt.  

The whole thing at the inn was leagues below this, that was rudimentary.  Teasing, getting even, having fun with each other, whatever you want to call that, that’s what it was.  This is scarily sophisticated.  Fluid and practiced and the best kind of frightening, stark and dangerous compared to the carefree and upbeat setting surrounding you.  You’re not making it up, it’s not just you being paranoid.  You know him with your eyes closed.  You know he’s here somewhere watching you, just like you know the starlight that streaks across the pitch black horizon of hyperspace.  Not because you can see it, not really, not directly.  But because by it, even in the vastest and darkest and emptiest of voids, you’re suddenly able to see everything else.

“You okay, Nerida?”

The volume gradually comes back up and you blink, suddenly remembering where you are, who else is with you.  The chatter becomes slightly louder than it seemed before.

“Yeah,” you eventually say, slightly airy while continuing to stare emptily at the crowded room.  He’s not here, you don’t think, not anymore at least.  But you’re not stupid, you know what this means.  You’re already caught, there’s nothing you can conceivably do that will delay the reunion for the next—you look down and pull the loose sleeve up to check your communicator—seven fucking hours, there’s no way.  He’ll pull back and follow you, keep up with you from a distance and then snatch you away right when you let your guard down.  You at least need to get the kids back to their guardians before that can happen, though.

“Let’s go,” you quietly tell the group of foundlings, grabbing elbows and hauling them out of their stools.  “Naydee was the only one who knew that you were gone when I left.  Here’s to hoping she managed to keep it that way.”

***

Day 5–5:32pm:

Against all odds, you’re able to rally the wayward teens and successfully lead them through shoulders that are beginning to move closer together as the crowd grows and grows.  You stay towards the back and don’t look behind you once—not only do you not want to give the younglings an unnecessary reason to become paranoid or to question your actions, but you can still feel Din lingering.  Moving like a shadow, probably fitting in perfectly with the masked festival-goers, nothing drawing any attention to him with all the spectacular sights and noise occurring.

Soon you return to the same spot from before, and you and the teenagers seamlessly integrate yourselves back into the rest of the group without anyone noticing a thing is out of place.  When you move to stand beside her, Naydee’s bone-deep sigh of relief is palpable even behind the concealing fabric; she squeezes your hand incredibly tight in a silent gesture of thanks, and then pulls something from the deep pockets of her robe and passes it to you sneakily.  A purple fruit.  She must’ve saved it for you.

Maker, fuck yes.  It’s not much but it’s more dinner than any of the seven troublemakers get, but Naydee quietly assures you they’ll be able to eat something once they return to the Keja around midnight, just not the tasty expensive treats they’re selling at the vendors.  As the sun goes down, you try not to stain your pretty fabric a deep maroon as you chomp and feel your lips start to curl upwards.  It sounds so fucking stupid when you put it like this, but you keep going back to Din and revelling in knowing that he’s so close, like you’re just mentally checking in on him.  You don’t get the sensation by thinking, though—more like you just focus really hard on your heart and feel him there just a second afterwards.

Is that how pure, stupid, shameless love feels when you’re completely entrenched in it?  It’s not like it’s surrounding you, it’s not suffocating you or making you float.  It’s just a thing.  Like… a thing inside your chest, a physical thing you can search for and find, something you can point to on your body and say it’s right here, this is where my love for him lives.  Right at the bottom of your heart, right where it curves and beats strong when other hearts meet flat at sharp angles.  You do it over and over again, reconfirming its existence every single time.  You don’t know what else you’d call it.  Love is the only word.  To love, to know.  To hold in the heart.

Soon, you start to notice that people are slowly moving around your stationary group.  You look up and watch the crowd begin to walk, some of them giving soft smiles to the cute children as they pass by, but all of them following the same unspoken direction.

“Where is everyone going?”  You ask Naydee, standing on your tiptoes to watch the crowd migrate like a giant system, an organism or mechanism of thousands (or tens of thousands?) of smaller moving parts all traveling in tandem.  It’s fascinating—you’ve been to crowded places, you know what it looks like when a lot of people are packed into one area, but you’ve never seen what it looks like when they all move together.  They would normally be bumping into each other, slipping in between, fighting and never really getting anywhere, interacting individually and thinking separately.  Now they’re progressing in one single direction, so many with the same mindset and understanding of what comes next.  A second parade, almost, with New Republic officers directing the flow of pedestrians as they pass.

“The eastern part of the city!”  Naydee yells over the noise and points, and beyond her extended finger, you can barely see the light of a dusky body of water in the distance beyond the buildings.  “The fireworks are going to go off over the bay, but it takes awhile to get there!”

“Is…”  You blink for a second, suddenly caught off guard, trying to think back to the holomap the concierge pulled up at the front desk of the inn.  Surely you would’ve noticed it, but your sudden childlike hope makes you ask anyway.  “Is it part of an ocean?”

Naydee shakes her head.  “A really big lake!”

Your shoulders drop just the slightest bit in disappointment but still, you ache to see it.  You can’t even imagine—the fireworks are likely going to reflect across the water, giving everyone double the view.  And luckily, after all the children and caretakers are individually accounted for, you start to behind the slow-moving crowd towards the docks you know lie beyond.  

Naydee scurries ahead to keep the kids together, ushering them forward and preventing any drunk passer-bys from accidentally stepping on them, and you quietly bring up the very rear of the entourage.  You take the time to observe more than anything, walk in the back and experience instead of trailblaze.  So many people, so many stories to be told, so many differences and diversity around you.  Your face is partially concealed and you don’t move your head too much, just your eyes.  They flick around to take in everything, the crowd thinning little by little as you make it out of the confined space downtown.  You’re able to make out full bodies and outfits again instead of just heads and shoulders, allowing you to breathe just a bit easier under your mask.

And then at one point—and it’s almost a little startling because it happens all at once—the organizers must decide that the sun has officially gone down, because the lights come on.  All of a sudden, paper lanterns and bulbs flicker into existence all around you and the world decides it wants to glow, glint and twinkle from the inside out.  They’re everywhere, draping across rooftops and tangled around street signs and stuffed into the flower bouquets overhead, raining soft colors down on everything.  You’re in complete awe, trying to keep walking but also needing to look at as much as fucking possible in the suddenly luminescent city.  It’s so colorful, so vernal and warm and you feel like you’re… Like when you took a shower on the Crest for the first time and spent a few happy moments just playing with the water and soap for your own enjoyment, it’s as if all the brilliant rainbow of colors the bubbles would make under the fluorescent light decided to surround you at the same time.  You’re inside stained glass, blinking at the flowers and wondering if Din can even smell the air or if it’s filtered, processed and reduced to nothing under the helmet.

And that’s when you see him.

But with the way your chest rapidly constricts and you can count your heart beats as they pound, blaring white noise through your ears and adrenaline through your veins, it’s like he's just allowing it to happen.  You immediately understand that you don’t have fucking anything the second your eyes land on him; this isn’t a heads up that you caught wind of early, it’s not a gift or an advantage you’ve incidentally gained over him that you should be thankful for.  Being able to see him directly like this, being able to make out all these fucking details from this far away…  This just feels like you’re being informed of the endgame right before it comes.  If you were anyone else, if you were a real bounty and this was a real hunt, his armor glinting and reflecting the lanterns overhead would feel like a knife you're about to be on the wrong side of.

You have a decision to make, very quickly.  Either keep in this same direction, head straight towards him and just pretend like you are who you’re dressed as, a random caretaker for a bunch of rowdy foundlings during a spring festival on Nariss, or disappear.  Drop back, move through the crowd and use the distance you have between you right now as your only hope of getting away in time.  Neither one gives you a particular advantage—your chances of being caught have already skyrocketed exponentially just being able to see the reflection in his armor, the hovering shield at his side with big black eyes… staring directly at you.

You almost trip over your pantlegs, gasping.  Baby.  He beams at you and you think he calls out through the passing crowd, his tiny arms extending out, and your chest feels like you’re pulling organs as if they were muscles, cramping up and seizing with emotion.  You want to run to them even though you’re meant to be running from them, call out over the noise and wave even though you’re not supposed to.  You want to hold the kid again, squish his little forehead with kisses, walk around with Din’s hand pressed against your lower back and see the fireworks with him.

Your hands clutch at the draping fabric covering your chest, pulling and twisting it uncertainly.  What do you do, what do you do?

No matter what, you know it’s over.  Keep your head down and try to move past him, or break away from your group and try to escape—both are different paths that lead to the same result.  What’s the point of running when he’s the one chasing you?  The heart-pounding thrill is the only reason you’re even considering it, but his body stands so tall amongst the crowd, not moving while people ebb and flow like a river passing around him.

Except then you can hear his voice repeat the last thing he said to you in person as if he says it directly into the comm in your ear.  When you do see me… try to outrun.

You should run—run, it’s better than just hoping he doesn’t see you when you already know he does.

Unless…

Out of a trillion different possibilities, you soon realize that there is exactly one situation in which this could turn out in your favor.  You can immediately picture the scenario in your mind, but there’s just too many variables to conceivably rely on getting them all right.  This maybe has a… two percent chance of working?  Maybe?  Everything would have to go perfectly, just fucking flawlessly, but what other choice do you have?  Two percent is better than whatever odds you’re dealing with now.

You walk silently behind the group of foundlings as you approach closer and closer, keeping your head purposefully down as they skip and giggle and dance ahead.  He knows you’re here—he has to know, you’re counting on him knowing.  Walk right in front of him, pretend like you don’t see, make sure you keep left.  Keep left, keep left, keep your head down, keep your head down—

A leather glove suddenly catches hold of your wrist hard enough to tug you backwards.

Your gasp is audible over the sound of the crowd and you spin around, jerking your head up to look at him in fear.  Your heart slams as the beskar reflects your mask and hood back at you—you’re terrified and it shows, you can see it in your eyes.

You quickly try to yank your hand away, even as your index finger stretches up towards the communicator around his wrist.

“Miss Nerida?”  A child’s voice cries, and then small hands grab at you from behind as you bury the urge to actually fight him.  Your instincts are demanding you attack when his grip is this strong, but you just whine and struggle, slapping weakly at him with your free hand and feeling more of the younglings begin to pull at you, their high pitched voices calling more and more attention to the scene.

Your gaze flicks to the side, suddenly landing on a pair of New Republic officers helping direct the thousands of moving bodies from the closest street corner.  They’re looking at you, pointing and beginning to speak into their own comm units.  Din’s helmet snaps sideways to follow your gaze, and then he’s immediately dropping your wrist and stepping back, retreating as quickly as he caught you.  Though you don’t want to—though you don’t want to give yourself away even more, you want to pretend fully that he was a complete stranger and the children were right to try to help you get away—your eyes fall to your son in the hovering crib by his side and you feel yourself crumble just a bit.

Just a few more hours, kid.  A few more hours.

Children pull you away while your pursuers both disappear into the crowd, and you quickly turn to soothe the tiny babies instead of chasing after the one you miss so terribly.

“I’m alright,” you tell them, scooting them up and encouraging them to continue walking.  Blend in, blend in, don’t let anybody think anything is wrong.  “Come on, we’re fine, come on, we have to catch up.”

They take your lead as soon as one of the caretakers turns around and sees the small group crowding around you.  You think she asks what happened, but you just tell her a man mistook you for someone else and nothing more comes of it.  She’s able to settle the chaos better than you are, and by the time you’re continuing to travel forwards once more like nothing happened, the communicator suddenly flicks on in your ear.

“What did you do?”  He breathes out, his footsteps moving fast through his voice.  He’s traveling much quicker than you expected—is he still being followed?  The officers are gone from your sight, they might be going after him right now, weaving between bodies and calling out to the perpetually vanishing glint of armor as he navigates his way out of danger.

You look down at the comm on your wrist and your heart nearly soars with victory.  It worked.  It worked.  You just have to outlast a bit longer, don’t draw any extra attention to it—he’s preoccupied and he certainly doesn’t sound happy, but you hope that’ll be enough to make him slip.  Use his frustration to your advantage, let him think the only thing you were successful at was momentarily escaping him.

“The cops weren’t part of the plan,” you admit quietly, keeping your head down as your loose hood billows in the twilight breeze.  “Don’t get caught.”

There’s a few moments of just his breathing, his footsteps, and the noise floor humming through the comm, before he finally responds.  “You look beautiful.”

You stare unseeingly down at the concrete under your feet, still feeling your hand tingle from where he caught you.  The line abruptly mutes on his end and you just keep moving forward, onward, wanting to look back but knowing he’s already long gone.

***

Day 5–5:24pm:

Din is fucking furious.

He had you.  You were right there, right in front of him, and even if he hadn’t been subtly trailing you all day, seeing the red footsteps get covered and flicker out of existence just a few moments after you make them, he would’ve recognized you anywhere.  In black and white, in the fading light, with your face covered, children calling you by a different name and attaching themselves to you like they’ve known you forever—doesn’t matter, he would’ve known you.  Your eyes have always given you away, always so expressive and starry and soft, but able to see right through solid steel whenever you look at him.

But then you slipped from his grasp, and then more guards pushed him further and further away from you.  They must all be in constant communication, because every single jumpsuit he sees immediately spots him and starts following.  It’s fucking exhausting, and he thinks of you the whole time.

He waits in a dark alley with the kid and taps the side of the helmet a few times to bring up the time on his comm, but then relaxes just slightly when he sees the hour.  It’s earlier than he thought it was, he’ll be able to find you again.

Though, something tugs at him while he’s looking at the clock ticking away in front of his eyes, counting down each second that passes.  There was… a moment.  Back in the square, when he was holding onto you again, when you were looking directly into his once more—everything in his helmet— 

No, he shakes his head while the kid looks up at him curiously, it can’t be.  It was just a split second, it was gone so fast.

But he can’t get rid of it.  Though there’s no explanation, he thinks the display screen flickered.  The sky behind you looked different for a single frame, your footsteps weren’t bright red and visible anymore, your eyes weren’t grey and he stopped wondering what shade of fabric you and your friend decided to choose for you to wear.  It was silvery, he’s almost certain.  Like his armor, it only reflected the color of everything around it.

Color.  Everywhere.  Bursting for a blink of an eye, and then gone just as quick, before he could actually figure out what it really meant.

***

Day 5–6:59pm:

This water is quiet here, but it sparkles.

It doesn’t ever really get truly dark thanks to the enormous hanging moon and ringed gas giant dancing with Sanctuary II, constantly reflecting light back onto the surface and reacting with some of the trace chemicals up above the atmosphere, and you think the sky just might be the prettiest you’ve ever seen it.  Must have something to do with the equinox, the glimmering angles of light being played with by celestial bodies in this stunning system, but it’s a dream.  The Maker apparently couldn’t decide which colors he wanted tonight so he just splashed all of them together all at once, let them run and blend like ink in the gentle water below, like the various people who call this moon home.

That view in front of you, coupled with all the flowers and lanterns lining the streets behind you, and you’ve lost track of time the exact same way you hoped Din would.  You think you’ve stood for about an hour or so in this one spot, half-listening to excited chatter from the babies, mostly just gazing across the stretch of water and being able to just barely spot the docks in the distance, but it feels like it’s only been minutes.

You check your watch—the fireworks should be starting any second now.  You don’t know what to expect, just that in your experience, explosions tend to be loud.  You've decided you’re not going to plug your ears, though.  Tummy twisting with nerves and another inexplicable feeling you can’t quite put your finger on, you resolve to experience the unknown exactly the way it’s meant to be.  Fully, without worry or fear.

Then, lacking any warning or ceremony whatsoever, a single flare launches silent and high from one of the small boats skimming the bay, and the crowd seems to hold its collective breath as the dim light disappears into thin air for a split second, before—

It’s… quite possibly the most dazzling thing you think you’ve ever seen.  So shamelessly decorative just for the sake of it, not serving any other practical purpose besides celebration and visual spectacle, and you’ll probably never know another extravagance like it.  You grew up with dust pelting against tired eyes, you never thought they’d get to reflect such gorgeous bursts of color back up at the sky, glassy and childlike amongst a group of equally wide-eyed children.

As expected, a deafening boom follows closely behind the singular display, but just witnessing it is incredible enough to make you forget to brace yourself for the sound and you jump almost violently in response.  There comes a loud cheer from the people standing around you, a few delighted gasps and children who decide now is the best time to start crying, but then more flares begin to launch from the boats and the subsequent show will sear itself into your memory to replay over and over again.

Still, you think the endless sky and dark water below would have to light on fire to stop him from coming to mind.

Din.

You click the comm on, continuing to stare in stunned awe but wanting nothing more than to hear his voice right now, feel his hand rest on your lower back and the kid’s three fingers squeezing one of yours while the stars rain down from above.  You’re only continuing to run from him because it���s expected of you, that’s the reason you’re here, but it’s becoming harder and harder to argue with yourself.  “Do you always see in black and white?”

It takes him just a few seconds to respond, but he always does.  “Only when I’m tracking someone.”

The loud booms can be heard over the earpiece, happening maybe a second after they crack and sparkle above you.  You can’t tell if the latency is due to the electronics or if he’s just that far away from the source of the sound itself, but… you don’t think he is.  He feels close again, like he could just walk up right next to you any second, or maybe that’s just how he always feels now.

“Does that mean you haven’t seen the sky here?”  You ask after a moment.  This whole time, everything has been grey for him?

“I saw it,” Din murmurs, and even though it’s quiet and explosions are thundering loud enough to deafen more sensitive ears, his quiet voice somehow breaks through it all.  “When you left the Crest, I saw it behind you.”

For some reason, you suddenly feel like crying.  Whether it’s the way he phrases it or the sentiment in the words, you’re close to tears without even knowing why, looking up at the sky illuminating spectacularly.  He says it like he wasn’t the one who parked on this moon and told you to go on without him.  “Can you… turn it off for just a second?”

He takes a second, before clarifying for you.  “I turn it off and I lose your footprints.”

So that was the ultimatum.  He doesn’t want to turn it off until you’re back with him again.  Does he not understand?  Does he not know what you know?  Maybe you just happened to feel it first, this overwhelming physical sensation inside you whenever you think about him.  It’s like the exact opposite of a hole in your chest.  And it’s so odd, so counterintuitive.  Being comforted in his absence, feeling him with you when he isn’t.  Falling in love in the dark, knowing him without ever seeing him.

“You never needed them,” you say, reaching up to pull your mask down under your jaw and chin for a moment, wanting to freely breathe the freshwater and flowers while stars explode and fracture across the sky.  It’s a truth you’re acknowledging, something you’ll carry with you, something you fundamentally own at this point.  “You’d find me without the helmet.  And I’d find you.”

The fireworks continue to bleed into the water beneath them, multicolor splashes rippling into existence and disappearing just as quick.  You could’ve never imagined a more colorful, magnificent landscape—besides your waterfall on Naboo, of course.  That was a pure product of nature though, a place hidden away and untouched by people, completely sacred.  Light refracting against mist, natural glass that would shatter under your weight.  This is a celebration of life and family.  Loud in a different way, affecting you in a different way, but just as wonderful and touching.  A cultivated paradise, designed to be beautiful and safe only because they wanted it to be.

“Think so?”  He asks softly.  He sounds so deep and warm, but… a little distant.  You’re able to hear it in his words.  You don’t know why, though.  Doesn’t he believe you?  Perhaps… perhaps this isn’t The Way.  Perhaps this is part of a completely different oath, one where knowing and loving somebody isn’t the same thing as looking at their face, not at all.  Where you can have them exist entirely separate from each other, because this is love.  This is real, enduring, bone-deep love, and you haven’t ever seen his face, so how would he explain that?  How would the Mandalorians reconcile that?  You bear the mark of the mudhorn, you’ve moved through time and space with him, you’re a mother to his son, and you’ve never seen his face.  It defies both the Mandalorian oath and traditional understandings of love, or it meets them right in the middle, depending on how you look at it.

“I know so.”  For the first time, you think you might sound more confident and certain than he does.  Maybe he doesn’t fully get it yet, but then you suppose he’ll just have to trust you.  “Will you look at the sky?”

“I see it,” Din tells you, but you know he doesn’t.  Not the way you want him to.  And stars, you just want so many things for him, don’t you?  The sky, fresh air, water, light, food, rest.  You want him to see the galaxy the way you do—have a new appreciation for the gifts that are given just because you’re alive to experience them.  All the physics and mathematics aligned perfectly for it to happen—all the chemistry, the systems, the dynamics that dictate the universe, they all got together and crafted a world where you, him, and the kid all exist together at the same time.  You want him to know the significance of that.

“With color?”  You ask, knowing his answer before he seems to.

“I…”  Din wants to argue, or at least say it again.  He can’t or he’ll lose you, he already told you he doesn’t want to turn the setting off.  It’s such an unnecessary conflict, but you want to respect it so much that you’re willing to give up things of your own to make it happen.

“How do I fix it then?”  You whisper, so desperately wanting this one thing for him, this one grandeur to behold.  How do you fix this problem?  How do you convince him to look with you?  You’d offer to just go and find him instead of continuing to run away for the next few hours, but you know the show will be over soon and you don’t have much time left.  “Do you want me to come look for you?  It’ll be too late by then, you’re too far away.  Look at the sky.”

It’s silent for a moment—truly silent, even though colorful bombs are going off above the bay.  You don’t know why you’ve attached yourself to this so strongly, but it’s almost devastating when you don’t get a response.  You look away from the spectacle for the first time in an eternity, gazing unseeingly into the crowd of onlookers with a sudden sadness taking hold of you.  He won’t look, he’s too stubborn, he holds onto things too tightly.

But then, a flurry of flares start launching in rapid succession from the distant boats, screaming and crying on their way up and then igniting into showers of light, and the abrupt increase in activity manages to catch your attention once again.  This must be the end, they saved the best for last.  Every corner of the horizon flashes and sparks, and you’re mesmerized at how bright it is, how many colors they’ve managed to fit into one single frame.

“It’s beautiful,” comes his voice, and the smile that you break into feels just right for the brilliance of the view above you.  Maker, it is, isn’t it?  Now you can hear it—he sounds like he’s looking at it too, with color, in all its breathtaking glory, and you feel like you’re flying.  Like he picked you up and let you watch up close, like you can feel his armor under your fingers right now as he carries you through the sky.

It swells up inside you, a rising wave similar to the ones you can see in the distance, and you know you probably shouldn’t say it because it’s not in your best interest to say it right now, but you have to say it anyways.  It’s an unknowable compulsion, a need to connect and communicate directly with him but for your sake, not presently, not at this exact moment in time.

Luckily, you mute your comm just in time and simply give the words to him from very far away.

“Hurry up,” you say, sending the sentiment into the sky with all your love, and the conflicting hope that he won’t take the advice until a bit later on.  “Come and find me.”

***

Day 5–7:37pm:

After the fireworks are over, people start to drift off in separate directions, clearing the traffic and congestion from the streets around you.  Someone puts their hand on your shoulder and you blink a few times, spinning around and almost stepping on a bunch of tiny little feet by accident.

Stars, that’s a lot of children.  They’re all crowded around Naydee, who pats a few heads and almost buckles under the younglings clinging to her leg.

“Figured you would be long gone by now,” she grins at you from behind her mask, and you’re reminded to pull yours up over your face just from looking at her.  “It’s late—we’re going back to the Keja.”

“Oh, shit,” you breathe in surprise, but the noise of the gradually dispersing crowd manages to cover it up.  At least from younger, more easily distracted ears, but you think Naydee hears you.  Her dark eyes roll good-naturedly, looking happy but exhausted from the long day.  You’re going to have to say goodbye now.

“What happened to your family?”  She asks after a moment, and you think she’s being careful with the way she says it, likely because family is a difficult topic to navigate in general around some of the children hanging on her and begging for her attention.  “Have you been in touch with them?  If not, I’m sure you can come back with us.  It’ll be late by the time we get there, but at least you’ll be safe.”

You open your mouth to automatically decline her offer, knowing Din is still in the crowded city looking for you and wanting to stay where there’s lots of people.

But then… well, he would expect you to do that, wouldn’t he?

There’s more people here.  More danger, but better places to hide.  It’s the obvious choice, it’s the one that makes the most logical sense.  But you’d also be completely alone and you’re assuming the only reason he hasn’t snatched you up yet—which you know he could’ve done multiple times by now, is likely because you’re with a group of innocent foundlings, moody teenagers, and very stern older women.  He probably doesn’t realize you’ve told them about him and the kid, though you were slightly vague on the details.

It’s also a little over three hours to get back, but you’re banking on it being closer to four with how whiney and tired some of the small voices sound, others sounding like they’re an enormous sugar rush contained into a tiny little capsule.  Would he have the gall to try and get you right from under their noses?  Will he even know you left the city, or will he assume you made the smartest decision possible and simply account for it ahead of time?  No, you're overthinking it, just make a decision and stick with it.

“There’s also free food,” Naydee shrugs while you’re still considering, but… well, that settles that.  Almost three days of friendship and she already knows exactly how to win you over in the end.  Sustenance for your empty tummy, an escort the entire way there, and heavily guarded walls beyond.  Din will have to get creative in response—you flaunted your imagination for days, coming up with dozens of evasion tactics to outlast him, but this one just seems… incredibly practical.  Exploiting a weakness of his—isolating it, having it be reinforced by precedent, and then taking advantage of it.  You bet he’ll catch on, but still, it’ll make it more difficult for him, and you’re grasping at straws to hang on just a little longer.

“I…”  Quick, come up with something.  You clear your throat.  “The city is too crowded, I haven’t been able to find them.  I could just… tell them where I’m headed and see if they can find me along the way?”

Naydee smiles and nods.  “Sounds perfect.”

Yet, the entire walk back… you keep thinking you’re going to feel Din trailing behind you, waiting to feel the nerves twist in your tummy and your palms to sweat, but you don’t.  You keep glancing over your shoulder and then down at your wrist, needing to talk yourself out of addressing him through the comm to let him know exactly what the plan is.  You like maintaining a sense of secrecy from the new characters you’ve met on your adventures—Naydee, Karga, Peli—almost everyone you’ve been introduced to, you found a way to find a subtle enjoyment in hiding certain things from them.  But with Din, you don’t have any walls.  They crumbled nearly a full year ago when he silently pushed a cauterizer in your hand and took his armor off for you, and you’ve felt the inexplicable need to bare yourself to him in return ever since.  It would be to your extreme detriment to do it now, but you still have to fight the urge.

Even if you don’t feel him following, you still find yourself acting like he is.  Constantly turning back to double check the road behind you, drifting off in the middle of shallow, distant conversations with tiny foundlings who can’t tell the difference, keeping towards the middle of the pack this time to avoid being picked off towards the back.  The belltower at the orphanage is loud and will ring for quite a distance, so your timing has to be utterly pristine for this to all work out.  You eye your comm the entire way there, trying to stall just the right amount to avoid any realizations or fall into any traps he may be setting for you.

You eventually leave the city walls far behind you, and now you have no clue where he is.  You lost him, and maybe that’s why you feel your heart beat insanely fast the whole time.  He could be anywhere now.  Behind you, adjacent, parallel—you can’t decide where to look, but it keeps you wide awake and focused while the group tiredly travels back to the temple.

***

Day 5–11:32pm:

You can see it in the distance, the brick buildings slowly coming into view.  One might think your stress would have worked itself out by now, been brought back to a manageable level after four hours of walking, but you’ve been on red alert for the past hour or so.  Any movement or rustle that doesn’t come from the sleepy children or exhausted caretakers, you’re on top of it, snapping your attention to the offending tree or animal and not being able to relax even after affirming it’s just nature, it’s not shiny metal bounding after you in the darkness, ready to take you down.

The infants are all likely snoozing away in the nursery, and the Sister who volunteered to stay behind and look after them comes to greet the group at the gate as you approach.  Like always, two Brothers open the iron bars to allow you inside, and you feel the anxiety dig its claws into your tummy.  If Din is going to get you, this is the very last moment to do it.  These walls are guarded and you’re nervous for him, you’re nervous for yourself—you’re just fucking nervous.  Jumpy and worried, not being able to pinpoint him anymore and feeling all the more anxious because of it.

It doesn’t feel right.  Nothing feels right about this, but you can’t figure out specifically what’s wrong.  This was the exact plan, this was a way for you to just survive these last few hours and yet, it doesn’t feel right that you actually succeeded in doing so.  It doesn’t make sense that he’d allow you to return all the way here, especially when he was close enough to touch you earlier.  Din has had so much time to snatch you up, so many opportunities to lure you away, confront you—anything to catch you, and he hasn’t done it yet.  Why?  Either you truly did escape and he has no idea where you are, which doesn’t feel right, or he’s choosing not to get you for whatever reason, which also doesn’t feel right.  What’s he waiting for?  You can’t have won.  It was all too fucking easy, you’re expecting to see him around every single corner because he should be there, he shouldn’t have allowed this to happen.

When someone gently touches your elbow, you’re so on edge that you nearly whip around in surprise.

“Sorry!”  Naydee immediately apologizes, taking her hand back to lift her hood and remove the mask covering her face.  “Didn’t mean to scare you!  I was just going to say that the commissary is still open,” she offers, and you watch the small group of hungry teenagers break off from the group to make their way there.  “It’s going to take awhile to get the children ready for bed, so we’ll be in the dormitories if you need to sleep.  Otherwise, I’m not sure I’ll see you again.”

You stare at her and blink a few times, trying to readjust your focus.  She’s your new friend, she just said this was likely the last time you’ll see each other, but you can’t stop thinking about Din.  Imagine he’s hours away in the city right now, still looking for you.  You’re trying to evaluate your priorities here, but you truthfully never expected to get this far.  Inside the gates, surrounded by brick buildings and silent guards.  You know your way around here, you know hiding spots, you know how to outlast—it’s incredibly advantageous for you to be inside these walls.  What is he doing?

Shaking your head to clear your thoughts, you give Naydee a quick hug and she happily accepts it.  “I’m sure we’ll meet again at some point.”

She smiles and nods, pulling back and letting a couple grumpy foundlings catch her robes and yank on them impatiently.  The loud group eventually disappears into the dorms, and the door shutting behind them cuts off the tired crying and chatty voices determined to stay awake, leaving you in silence that feels slightly unfamiliar after going without it for so long.

Fuck, you just need to breathe.  As soon as the dead quiet grips the air around you, you realize you need to relax.  You’re way too fucking wound up; you want to bolt at the smallest thing and the sudden silence of being alone multiplies it to the point where you have to remind yourself of its importance.  Breathe.  Focus.  There’s about fifteen minutes before the bells ring, fifteen more minutes and the chase will be all over.

Can you eat?  You thought you’d want to, but you think you’re too fucking antsy.  You can’t stay here alone, that’s for sure, but you also don’t want to be around all the children right now.  The commissary will have a handful of people wandering around, teens snacking and maybe a Brother or two standing guard.  It’s the best place to wait the clock out, so you make your way there.  The gentle breeze billows around your loose robes, your pantlegs swishing as you walk.

A few minutes later, you’ve got a plate of food in front of you but your mask is still up, and you’re just sitting there.  Towards the back of the large room, sitting by yourself at one of the tables and staring down at your communicator.  Five minutes.  You have five fucking minutes left before he finds you.  Can you feel him?  Is he closing in?

You sit up a bit straighter, taking a deep breath.  Focus on that feeling from earlier.  The presence in your chest, the weight that didn’t used to be there months ago—focus on that feeling and branch it outwards.  Can you feel him?

Something catches your eye.

Or no… it doesn’t, does it?  Nothing is out of place here, nothing is visibly wrong or amiss.  The only thing that’s changed from all the times before is how dark it is through the windows, and how there are only a few kids in here grabbing a midnight snack instead of being packed like usual.  Nothing else.

But there’s… there’s an acolyte in the far corner, standing guard with his back to the wall.  It’s not his presence that gives you pause—you expected him to be here, there’s always been at least one present whenever you’ve sat down to eat.  He doesn’t look any different from the rest of the Brothers you’ve passed by this evening or the days before—tall, silent, dark brown robes, hooded and mysterious—so why do you suddenly feel yourself break out into a cold sweat as soon as your eyes land on him?

Bubbling laughter and chatter echoes through the large room from one of the tables near the entrance—seven teenagers stuffing their faces with food and sharing animated conversation with each other now that it’s late and they’re alone—but your stomach twists and your fingers start to tremble as you slowly rise from your seat in the back.  You want to keep your head down and be casual but it’s impossible, you desperately need to keep looking at that silent guard in particular and your heart kicks up in your chest—

—and then it wrenches sideways when you’re carefully backing away from the table and the offending acolyte takes a single step forwards.

Run.  Everything in you screams for you to run, and it’s rarely done that before, but you can’t.  Not yet, you don’t want to draw attention, and the logical part of your mind rages against your gut instinct to haul ass.  He’s here—of course he is, the thought screams through your veins as you try to weave quickly in between tables, feeling light on your toes and readying yourself to run as soon as you can.  The dark figure seems to find a careful pace behind you, staying just far enough behind and walking in perfect silence, and you have so many fucking questions but you can’t even think a single thing beyond run away, run away.  Where’s the kid?  How did he get those robes?  Did he actually take his helmet off just to get to you in a room where anyone could confront him?

Your feet propel you forward as soon as you make it out of the door, you break out into a sprint—just flat out bolting because you know how fucking fast he is and you need as big a headstart as you can get.

You race down the stairs and through the courtyard, the beautiful surroundings contrasting drastically with the way you’re running for your fucking life through them.  It’s not beautiful to you right now; you feel clumsy and physically unable to move fast enough no matter how quick you go, your eyes are wide and every nerve is on fire and you can’t even tell if he’s behind you anymore with how silently he moves, but you just trust that he is and keep barreling forward.  Your breath puffs against the clinging fabric of your mask as you keep sprinting, willing your legs to pump faster.  Get to the belltower at least, get to where you have the smallest chance of being caught by the people who guard this place.

As soon as you allow yourself to even conceive the possibility, two Brothers in dark hooded robes suddenly turn the corner a little ways in front of you and your reaction time is perfect—you jerk to a halt and take a single step forward as soon as they spot you.  Since your momentum already committed you to it, you just have to walk, keep your head down, move directly past them and hope Din disappeared from behind you in time.

Step, step, step—keep going, control your breathing, you’re okay, you’re allowed to be up late tonight and they shouldn’t stop you.  Walk right by…  Stars, you feel their silent stares as you casually pass, and it just feels so cold and analytical compared to the kind of danger Din is gives off when dressed in the exact same clothing.  He’s hard and tangible and an unrelenting force, where they just feel like ghosts that haunt this place.  The threat they present is impersonal and detached, but the terror currently chasing after you is so real that he can read your mind.

You wipe the sweat from your brow as soon as you turn the corner, and your feet are already starting to speed up on their own knowing you’re out of their sight.  Run, get to the belltower before Din does, you can see it standing tall about a hundred feet away.  The stairs leading to the door come closer and closer, but you hear something behind you and it propels you faster.  It’s like you can feel him right at your heels even though you haven’t seen him, snapping at your ankles even though your footsteps are the only ones you can hear anymore.

You scramble up the stairs and close the door behind you, spinning around and facing it even as you slowly retreat backwards into the moonlit tower, trying to stay quiet.  Breathing through your nose, eyes shifting around the enclosed space, continuing to back up and away from the door.  Where is he?  There are so many windows that allow you to look outside, but why can’t you spot his movement through them?  Wasn’t he right behind you?

Behind you.

There’s no reason or logic at all to it; you just react.  Spinning around and throwing a mean punch.

Din jerks back just in time to miss it, twisting and dodging at the very last second to avoid your next few hits—but… things seem to slow down, even if they’re happening so fast.  The moonlight cascades through the dozens of windows lining the circular walls and it shines just enough to reveal small glimpses of him.  With every aggressive strike from you, you see something else—you see a flash of his chin when you try to uppercut, you aim for his chest and you see a bit of his jaw.  When you go for his jaw, he steps sideways and catches your wrist, and you see the bend of his nose catch the light this time.

But then it’s like he finally figures out that you’re actually fighting him, and now he’s coming for you.  Trained and ruthless, not weighed down by any armor and lightning quick, launching perfectly aimed attacks that you’re only able to avoid from reaction and muscle memory alone.  You block or move whenever he strikes, you attack whenever you see an opening, you sidestep at the same time he does—

Until you land a spin kick directly to the center of his chest and snap your leg to shove him back, your heel smashing into that soft spot right above his stomach with dead precision and brute force.  He exhales sharply and takes a few more steps back to steady himself while you pause to catch your breath.

Din abruptly comes back and you fall into it with him again, keeping a sharp rhythm with each other that’s faster, harder, and way more real than any sparring match you’ve ever shared.  The hours and days in hyperspace you spent practicing with him are but a fraction of what he’s throwing at you right now, the combinations so rapid and blurred that you just have to trust your knowledge of him and his movement through the dark.

But then, your downfall.  Bells begin ringing an earsplittingly familiar melody above you, and it shatters your concentration—you falter just as he grabs you and sweeps your feet out, and though you know how to get out of that, you’re not quick enough on the jump nor counterswing to prevent it.  He takes you to the ground, hard, and then your wrists are being pinned together above your head and your mask is being tugged down.

Din’s mouth on yours makes you want to cry.

The whole thing is like coming home.  You spent a week surrounded by strangers and having them call you by a name not given to you, fending for yourself, and now here he is.  Someone who knows who you really are, someone that wants to care for you.  Tears come to your eyes even as they're pressed tightly shut, and Din kisses you like he’s never known anything else.  His mouth fits to yours as if the Maker made your lips before ever considering the rest of you, his bare hand clutching your jaw and forcing you to open for him, letting him lick deep inside after going so many days without it.  It might feel dominant and overwhelming if it happened to any other person, but through it, you can also taste his desperation and weakness, how soft he is even when he’s squeezing your jaw and squishing your wrists together too tightly.

Rigid steel that bends only for your touch.

He pulls back and your heart throbs at how moonlight continues to bathe just the smallest glimpses of him under the hood—never the full thing, never the whole face, but enough.  The quiet light that brushes the arch of his nose, how it bathes the hard line of his jaw so that you can barely see his scruff when he turns his head the right way.  His eyes are hidden in near darkness but there’s the faintest glimmer where they should be, and it’s the closest you’ve ever been to looking at him without the helmet.  You can see him, you can see shadows of his chin, his neck—dear stars, his fucking neck.  You’re pinned and paralyzed under him and the ringing bells, yet you feel like you just might float if he wasn’t holding you so tight to the floor.

“Where’s the baby?”  You finally lift your chin and ask, needing to raise your voice over the melody clanging loud throughout the tower.

“Making friends,” Din pants back down at you, and… stars, then you just start giggling.  Adrenaline turning into pure joy, imagining the kid wreaking havoc with all the other babies in the nursery right now.  It feels more light and airy than anything your body should know.

“What are you so happy about?” He asks, swallowing and then continuing on with the same quick gasps.  “You lost, I caught you in time.”

“Did you?”  You drop your head to the brick floor and ask, biting your lip as he stares back down at you.  Suddenly—

—Bong—

Din holds utterly still over you while you take a quick breath and wait for the next eleven bells… 

…but then break into a slow grin up at him when nothing but utter silence follows.

There’s a moment.  Just a single moment where the cogs turn rapidly under that shadowy hood, one where the faint reflection of light in his eyes flickers down to the communicator on your wrist that says midnight and back to you, one that solidifies the longer it takes for another bell to ring.  It’s not going to.

One o’clock.

You think he puts it together.  The one moment he was never able to figure you out—when you tried reprogramming the comms just a few days ago.  The one trick up your sleeve that you resigned to throw away and almost forget about because the circumstances for pulling it off were never realistic.  Fuck with the electronics and set the clock back just one hour—all you’d need to do is reset his communicator, the timecode is synced together.  He told you before that it’s connected to his helmet, but all the buttons still work.  Rapid, panicky thinking and a wild surge of bravery in the face of certain downfall is the only reason you were able to pull it off, and you’re perfectly willing to admit you just got lucky… especially when he’s still holding dead still over you.

But then Din moves so suddenly.  You can’t account for it because there’s no build-up whatsoever—it’s so fast, you yelp while he grabs your knees and throws them both to one side.  You flop over sideways and large hands reach up under the draping length of your tunic to yank your pants down over the curve of your ass, before he’s fitting his palm up between your legs and pushing two thick fingers inside you.

Your head thunks back against brick with how unexpected and merciless it is, but his other hand is grabbing your jaw and twisting, forcing you to look up, stare right into the dark shadow under the loose cowl.  The whole thing is too overwhelming—you’re trying to keep quiet but your breathing feels like thunder crashing inside this tall, echoing chamber.  He’s touched you so many times, he knows exactly how to do it by now, but it feels like so much more than that.  Probably because you can see the way Din’s mouth silently falls open as he feels you, stretching his fingers up and hooking them tight inside.  You can tell when he closes his eyes, the smallest glint slowly disappearing into nothingness while the hand around your jaw blindly moves up.  It catches your chin and lips, and then two fingers push over the bottom edge of your teeth to slip into your mouth.

Your entire leg twitches and jerks while you lay sideways on the ground and open up for him, your neck twisted at a sharp angle to keep your eyes on him and his fingers in your mouth, giving you something to bite to stop making noise.  Din makes room for himself inside you two different ways, and you just choke on his fingers and try to stay quiet, praying he’ll go deeper.

But then you’re not expecting his whole fucking arm to start moving the way it does—oh fuck, what is that?  First you just feel jostled and displaced, but then suddenly a wicked, deep, burning pleasure starts to roar through you, radiating outwards from the rapid motion of just two fingers inside you.  It’s not in and out, it’s up and down so hard and quick against your g-spot that your eyes cross and your hands go numb.

You think you grab at him, clutch onto his arm or chest and open your mouth to moan at the new and overwhelming sensation, but his hand pushes up against your chin and closes it for you, the bend of his fingers caught hard between your teeth but you don’t think he cares.

“Quiet,” Din hisses the word down at you while his arm continues to work, your toes starting to curl as the feeling overwhelms you.  Fuck, what is happening, what is happening?  It’s like he’s just shoving unfamiliar sensation at you so forcefully that you can’t even think straight anymore, not even ten seconds in.  You can only feel the pleasure, fire blurring hot and shapeless through your entire body as your eyes clamp shut, his fingers isolating that perfect spot and stimulating it directly, relentlessly.

Something dull and white hot presses up tight against all the muscles you have down there and you’re almost afraid of how strong it is.  You gasp and choke and he has to take his fingers out of your mouth and just clamp down around your entire jaw, sealing the whole thing shut with his large hand.  And then Din’s fingers leave your pussy too—and stars, you should be embarrassed by how desperately it clamps around nothing for as long as it does.  He’s not even inside you anymore but your body is on such a delay from the hot, twisting pleasure, and he doesn’t put them back in until your muscles are finished spasming.

Everything comes back full force as soon as he starts moving again.  Noise starts to come from your throat, humming in your vocal cords to deal with the arcing, swirling build, and so Din just moves his hand there instead.  He finds where it’s vibrating from your neck and he pushes up against it, trapping the sound right at the source.  He’s fucking perfect at it for some reason… how many times must he have done this to know how to cut noise out without stopping airflow?  You clutch at his wrist and silently mouth his name, feeling his arm work between your legs—faster, faster, harder, pushing you higher, higher—

Din pulls his fingers out again and this time, one of your thighs suddenly feels warm and wet while you spasm and you hear him growl out a ragged, “Fuck yes.”  Everything is sparks zapping through you long after his touch is gone, you cry out but it’s all trapped under Din’s expert grip.  His fingers soon push back inside you and you dig your nails into his forearm, your sounds muffled and quiet enough to hear his raspy groan.  

“Let me see it again,” Din breathes, his arm starting to work up and down once more, and you don’t even know what he’s talking about anymore.  What does he want to see?  You losing your mind again?  Being reduced to an utter mess in front of his shadowy but unobstructed gaze just because you managed to pull one over on him?

Fucking… apparently.  It’s what happens, after all.  You’ve never seen him like this before; whenever he’s worked up and taking it out on you, there was always something in it for him, too.  He’d hammer into you and rock your world until his eventually shattered, and then you’d both lay exhausted afterwards, equally affected and satisfied.  This isn’t like that—this is just cruel, targeted retribution on his behalf, coaxing the molten pleasure out of you with his fingers and keeping his other hand locked around your throat.  You blink helplessly up at him, your vision starting to blur by the time he leans down to whisper to you.

“I missed you, sweet girl.  Did you miss me?”  It’s so soft and quiet compared to the strength and relentlessness of his movements.  You can’t speak even if you wanted to, but when he finally pulls away to yank his hand out and you feel all your muscles automatically flex outwards and push against the sudden emptiness inside you, his voice groans long and satisfied while your thighs get wet again  “Yeah you did,” he breathes, pushing your shaky legs to the brick with his hand and watching you struggle through the aftershocks.

Did you just cum?  You don’t even know, that’s how fucked up you are right now.  The whole thing felt like an orgasm from the very beginning, just a boiling hot tornado ripping through every single cell in your body, never really having a peak.  If you didn’t cum, then why do you feel so weak?  You feel heavy, your limbs don’t work properly, and you barely even register Din pulling at the fabric of his own robes until he fits himself up against your entrance.

When you do realize it, though… your body burns with it, wrecked already but wanting him to take what he wants from you.

“Oh, plea—” you gasp but you don’t even have enough time to get the full sentence out.  He’s already pushing his hips forward, pressing you tight into the ground and opening you up after what feels like a fucking eternity without him.  It’s the hottest, slickest welcome you could give him, you hear it in the whispered curse his lips brush up under your ear, the wet noises your body makes that get louder the longer you hold the moan in your throat and bury your head into his shoulder.  He throbs thick and perfect inside your tight, spasming cunt, stretching you and smacking the rough ground near your head with how fucking good it is to be back, finally, finally—

Your hands grab uselessly at his chest while you try to acclimate, try to breathe while you’re blind with sensation.  It’s so fitting for him, isn’t it?  That your reunion should be just as physically debilitating as it is mentally.  Din’s voice scrapes on a groan like he’s dragging it across the brick ground as quiet as he can, catching when you clamp down on him and shuddering when you clamp down harder.  That’s just it—you don’t ever loosen, you just keep tightening and tightening around him, threatening to break and cum again.

This feels different from before, though.  It’s deep, purposefully so.  His hand reaches up to push the fabric of your hood back, lifting himself up over your body and wanting to start as deep as he can.  You feel him in a place you’d never be able to reach and that’s just the beginning—that’s before he starts thrusting into you, hitting a dull sensation at the apex of each movement so hard that it becomes sharp.  His hips don’t make practically any sound smacking into you because they don’t really smack, they just rock downwards and fuck you into the floor without needing to pull out really at all.  You know he’s just trying to keep it as quiet as possible, but what he lacks in speed and agility he makes up in power.

You don’t even realize you’re making too much noise until a palm wraps tight around your mouth and the room gets a little emptier.  Din keeps you all to himself on the floor, silencing as much as he’s working you up, smothering as much as he’s freeing you.  There’s no easing up, no dragging it out, no gradual build or climb—it’s just there all of a sudden, pleasure and pain pummeling you all at once, engulfing you in flames.

You reach up to grab at the loose fabric of the hood over his face, catching a fistful of it before his hand suddenly snatches your shaky wrist and pins it back to the ground.

Maker, you forgot—oh, you completely forgot about how many people could find you right now if they ever decided to look in the right place.  You’re not in hyperspace; your body is rocking against rough brick, you’re probably going to have a lump on the back of your head from how terrible you are at trying to map out heaven while holding still.  He’s pinned down what he can with one hand; your fingers are the only things that can move besides how tight you can curl your toes, but you feel your moans turn into words against his palm.  They garble indistinctly and you’re not really even sure what you’re saying, but Din decides it’s worth hearing.

“Shh,” he whispers, slowly lifting his hand from your mouth.  “Shh, tell me—”

“W-wanna look,” you hear yourself whimper, trying your best to keep quiet but wanting to scream it while he fucks you hard and slow on the ground, “—I wanna see, I wanna look at you—”

“Fuck,” Din gasps, and though his grip tightens on your wrist and you know he can’t do it right this second, the words seem like they shatter something inside him, “Keep—oh fuck, please, k-keep saying…”

“I want to marry you,” you nearly whine for him, feeling his hips kick up rapidly and start hammering in and out, in and out, in and—“I want to see your face, I wanna be yours, I don’t want anyone else to know you the way I-I—”

You think he drops his head into your neck to muffle his own sounds.  Though they start out rough and quiet and indiscernible, but they gradually become louder as he repeats himself over and over again, growling and fucking you rough.  You only catch it on the peak, when he pulls his mouth away from your skin and gasps them raggedly one last time.

“—ve you—I l-love y—”

He kisses you to stop himself.  But it’s not really a kiss, it’s more desperate than that.  Though it’s beautiful, it’s beautiful in a different light.  It’s not rejoicing at having you back with him once again; it’s a last prayer begging you to stay by his side forever.  He loves you.  He gives it everything—it feels even more concrete and simple than taking the hood off him and revealing his face would.  You told you that you'd know him without ever seeing him, and you did.  You picked him out and found him when absolutely nothing was giving him away, and this feels like a manifestation of that.  Even if you’re not in a place where he can show you his face, his beautiful brown eyes, something still feels like it changes.  He loves you.  You gasp into his mouth and his tongue sinks deep into yours, tenacious and brave and unyielding.  

When you finally cum, you almost bite him on accident.  

Everything surges hot and molten while he pulls back and keeps fucking you through it, and you can’t tell where you’re touching him anymore, just that his skin is blazing hot under your hand and he feels like everything the armor isn’t.  He loves you.  You’re looking into his eyes right now.  You can’t see any of the details, not really, but the moonlight flickers like silent stars moving through dark depths, staring right back at you and giving you an anchor for the euphoria rocketing through you.  He loves you.  Your nails dig in sharp and slowly drag downwards, scratching hard red lines into whatever thick muscle that is—

The back of his neck, making his hips stutter and when he cums for you, he does bite.

You lift your head just in time to feel his teeth catch your chin instead of your mouth, and his entire body shakes while you keep dragging your nails down the side of his neck and his throat.  Din fucking lives for it, he releases you and arches into the pain and owns your marks like he wishes you made them deeper, stretching his neck and lifting his chin into the moonlight and—

Maker.  You can see it, with direct light, you can see more of it than ever before.  You can see his soft lips and white teeth gritting the sound of your name as quietly as he can, the dark facial hair dusting across the lower half of his face.  A fucking gorgeous jawline and throat extended long over you, flexing hard with his cock pulsing inside you.  You can just barely see the bottom of his nose from under the brown hood, the dark curls brushing up under his ears.

Stars, you still never see his eyes, the fabric of his hood acts like a blindfold draped over them, but you think you cum again.  Even if it’s on accident, it’s mean—Din tries to keep from squishing you and his hand pushes down hard against your lower tummy while he shoves his hips deep one last time, and you cum while staring at half of his face in the moonlight.  Completely lovestruck.

How can he be this beautiful when you’ve only seen fractions of him?  You have everything but the eyes now, everything but the most mysterious thing about him, the reflection into his deepest self, but you feel like you’re hypnotized by every single feature you do see.  His tongue coming out to wet his lips, the vein pulling under his sharp jaw—he’s gorgeous, he’s gorgeous, and your body agrees.  It shakes and shudders under him and eventually, Din finishes and you keep looking as his chin slowly lowers, face disappearing into the shadow once more.

Stars.  He’s so handsome and no one has ever told him, fucking dreamy and the biggest grump you’ve ever met.  Without being able to see him, you already want to reach your hands out and touch him, drag your nails through his scruff and force him to extend outwards into the moonlight again for you.  Whenever he does end up showing you his face, you know right fucking now that you’ll never be able to look away.  For the rest of your life, you’ll be staring at him, apologizing blankly for your rudeness but not feeling sorry at all.

Din leans down and gives you a slow, gentle kiss, finally relaxing into a slouch and breathing hard with the effort it took to shatter you with pleasure.

“The kid is with the other foundlings,” he whispers against your lips.  “You… you’ll have to go get him, I need to grab my armor.”

You squeeze around his cock, pulling at the fabric of his robes and ignoring him for just a second.  He fucked you in robes belonging to one of the guards and nobody has mentioned it, you need to say something.  “Where did you get this?”

“I found it,” he tells you after a moment, kissing up under your jaw.  Oh fucking Maker, he feels so good and perfect inside you, shoulders so broad and crowding you on the floor, and his lips are plush and hot, brushing and fitting your skin like it’s just an extension of his own.  “Some guy was wearing it.”

It takes you a second.

“Mando,” you suddenly gasp in quiet horror, pushing at his chest and trying your best to detach his mouth from your throat.  It’s so much more difficult than it needs to be, but you eventually succeed.  “What did you do to him?  Where is he?”

He lifts his neck up just the tiniest bit, turning his face towards yours under the hood and holding still for way too fucking long.  He’s too close to see the expression he’s making, but you know the tone of his silence.  He’s in trouble and he knows it before you do.

“Ma—”

“They’re in a closet,” he admits at the very same time, completely monotone.

You don’t know which word to emphasize.  A fucking closet?  They’re?  Plural?  Instead of stressing any particular word, you decide not to do it at all and it ends up just coming out in the same exact blank tone as him.  “They're in a closet.”

“Inside the Temple,” Din continues on when you lay still as a statue underneath him.  His head slowly dips down once more, pushing his hips against you just the slightest bit to make you remember the cock still inside you instead.  Your eyelashes flutter with it—fuck, focus—“I didn’t know there’d be more than two.”  He kisses your neck so gently.  “It was an accident.”

You don’t say anything at all, your mouth pinching down at the corners because it should but your heartbeat galloping with how… fucking sexy he is.  You shouldn’t encourage this, this horrible behavior just to get close enough to catch you, but your curiosity overtakes you and you ask a question you’ve asked yourself before.  “Did they put up a fight?”

“Mm,” he whispers noncommittally, rocking his hips down once more.  “You did.”  Your nails dig into his chest, making him falter just slightly before slowly kissing your neck again.  “Did so good.  Fought hard, outsmarted me.  Pretty fucking girl.”

And then your eyes pop open as you feel it.  His cock suddenly beginning to harden once again inside you, twitching and gradually gaining a thicker shape, and for a moment, you actually fucking consider it.  He’s the only one in this galaxy that could not only ruin you on these sacred grounds, but then coax you into doing it more than once—stars, are you actually considering it?

“We can’t,” you automatically tell him, but it’s fucking pitiful.  Zero effort, absolutely no umph behind it, leaving it entirely up to him and how much he wants it.  Your logic reminds you that the kid is probably wreaking havoc in the nursery and there are tied up guards in the fucking temple that could be discovered any second.  You shouldn’t have even let him fuck you here in the first place, but…  “Mando, we can’t—”

His mouth opens against the crook of your neck and his tongue brushes velvet hot on your skin, tasting the glistening sweat there and not moving his broad figure a single inch over you besides getting closer, deeper.  Your nails dig into his collarbone, aiming for reason one last time.  It’s apparent that you’d be better off rephrasing, knowing the challenging streak in him and how much telling him what to do doesn't help.

“It’s not a good idea,” you attempt instead, breathless and trying not to move under his mouth and lazy hips.  “Not smart.  Bad idea to fuck again.”

Din’s body stops moving, even though he keeps getting harder.  His jaw opens and then his teeth scrape softly against your flesh, making you tilt your neck back and gasp.

“Later,” he lifts his head to state aloud, committing it to truth now that it’s been spoken and heard by another person.  “Later, I’ll fuck you on the ship, in our bed, when I can get you naked and have your taste in my mouth.”

Tingles rock through your body and you squeeze around his cock just as he pulls it out and tucks it back into his pants.  Your lungs quiver when you inhale—it’s shaky, but it reminds you of how long it’s been since you’ve been able to breathe correctly.

“Later,” you finally agree, combing your fingers through your hair and glad you have this hood to cover your freshly fucked dishevelment.  He came inside you and you don’t want to be leaking and getting your nice pretty robes all wet and stained, but then of course, without any prompting, Din quickly scoots back on his knees and drops his head down to take care of it for you.

***

Commotion.

After Din helped you clean up the way he sometimes likes and then disappeared to change back into his armor, you put your mask and hood back on and tried to look as casual as possible walking to the nursery.  Your knees wobbled slightly and you couldn’t stop smiling under the mask the entire walk there, but when you arrived, you just saw a dim room with sleeping infants—not what you were expecting.  Soon, however, you hear it: down the hall, distant and coming from the dormitories, you hear a loud commotion.

Fuck, you’re nearly wincing with every step you take now, and not because you’re sore.  Well, you… are, a little bit, but in a great way.  No, you’re just dreading the ridiculous shinanigans you already know are well underway, wondering if Din actually dropped the kid off in the dorms from the beginning or if he somehow migrated his way there to cause trouble.

When you walk inside, the first thing you see is a handful of crying and shouting toddlers, and while you can’t immediately spot your favorite floppy-eared monster, you don’t have to see him to know he’s probably standing tiny directly in the middle of this tense showdown.  Automatically, you’re taking a few steps forward to rescue him, but then you stop as soon as you see what the other babies are so mad about.  A large piece of chocolate leftover from the festival levitating just beyond their pitiful little reaches.

Hm.  Who could possibly be responsible for using demon powers to steal snacks and hold them hostage from a sizeable group of hostile children.  A mystery that may never be solved.

It makes you take a second.  The sheer… the… stars, you can’t even think straight—how fucking typical it is just hits you right in the chest, sends your heart into orbit.  Of course.  Of course this is what he’s gotten himself into without immediate supervision, of course this is the shipwreck you’d walk into, and you’re holding back a chuckle before making a single move to intervene.  In the midst of everything, you can hear adults approaching distantly from behind you.

“—don’t know where it came from, I was helping the younglings into bed when I heard the ruckus and I—”

The voices gradually grow louder, and you snatch the floating piece of candy out of thin air and whip around right before Sister Drya and Naydee walk in.  Their hushed, concerned conversation is cut to an abrupt end, and you clear your throat as they take you in, standing in front of chaos central continuing to go off behind you.  Do you… look as freshly disheveled as you are?  You’re not supposed to be here, you know, but hopefully the only strange thing is your presence itself and not anything concerning your appearance.

“Nerida,” the older lady suddenly announces, the name alone holding so much expectation, and the younglings missing their candy have now turned their ire towards you and the crinkly food wrapper hidden in your fist.  “What is the meaning of this?”

“Ah, yeah,” you stand up a little straighter, letting the chocolate casually fall out of your grip behind you, and a stampede of feet suddenly kick up to recover it.  It’s fine, nobody will know, it’s fine.  “It’s just…”  Your head tips behind you to the cause of the uproar, feeling a bit sheepish yet so incredibly fond.  “My… kid.”

Sister Drya stares at you for a few seconds, before tipping sideways and staring at the culprit.  “That is your child?”

You turn around just in time to see him, now abandoned by the angry mob of children, finally notice you.  All of a sudden, his pitch black eyes light up something bright and sunshiney, and you just start beaming in return.  What an adorable little creature, apple of your eye and pain of your ass.

“Yep,” you sigh, dropping into a squat and watching him barrel towards you, catching him right before he can trip over his brown potato sack and scooping him up into your arms.  “Hiya, bug,” you murmur with a grin, lifting back up and plopping him in his favorite spot in the universe—your left hip.  “You making friends?”

He giggles and it’s like sparkles and bubbles fill the room instead, wrapping tiny arms around the largest surface area he can get and clinging.  He laughs with a tiny open mouth, bless him, clearly not understanding the sarcasm, and suddenly your eyes feel just the slightest bit wet.  No, you’re not crying, don’t be fucking ridiculous, but you missed him like hell and he’s just the cutest fucking thing—why do you feel like crying?

“Sorry about that,” you apologize to the two women while slowly turning around, brushing your thumb over one of his cheeks and smiling as it squishes.  “He’s… uh.  Not great at sharing.  We’ll work on it.”

Takes after his dad, you purposefully leave out, just a different kind of sharing.  Din hasn’t shown you his full face yet and the kid performs magic tricks to taunt a roomful of children a fraction of his age for a single piece of chocolate, completely different kind of sharing.

Sister Drya says something in response, but when you look up to address her, all you see is Din standing silently behind her and Naydee, slowly dropping his hand from his helmet to his side.  They don’t seem to notice he’s there and you automatically try your best to pay attention to the Sister speaking to you, but your eyes get caught on the silver reflecting in the dim light beyond.  Fuck, he’s a presence.  An immediate distraction, taking all your focus with a single glimpse.  Seeing him fully armored again, staring at you from the silent shadows behind everything… you melt a little bit, knowing that you’ve seen more of what’s underneath than anyone.  Your shoulders settle and your entire body burns warm, wobbly like the air around a fire, and one of the kid’s hands leaves you to reach out towards his dad.

You watch the metallic helmet tilt sideways after a moment, saying everything without saying anything.  Come on, make up an excuse, let’s get out of here.

Looking at him in the quiet shadows, you’re reminded once again about how much you love him, how much softness you have inside you for a man so hard, so guarded.  And, for the first time, a voice in your head finishes a poem you didn’t realize you were writing, adding its own verse and bringing everything back around to the beginning.  He loves you, too.  How much he lets his guard down for you, the way he’s revealed more of his face to you than not.  You love each other.  You’re family.

So, all at once, you decide to mess with him, because that’s what family does best.

“Don’t be shy, come say hello,” you suddenly urge his silent figure, taking a step forward and speaking directly to him.  “Sister Drya, Naydee, I’d like to introduce you to my—”

It’s remarkable, you see it happen in front of you.  Like he has powers of his own, Din just literally fucking disappears.  Like magic, he’s nowhere to be found within a blink of an eye.  You know he’s capable of it; he’s done it plenty of times during the chase just to fuck with your head, but you’re staring straight at him when it happens this time and it might just be the funniest fucking thing you’ve ever seen him do.

Sister Drya and Naydee both turn around to an empty hallway bathed in shadows and you laugh.  A deep, shameless, loud belly laugh.  Where the fuck did he go so quick?  You were staring straight at him and you have no fucking clue.  He’s just out, and you’re left alone with his child and the unspoken understanding that he’ll just catch up with you later.

You’re giggling even as you shake your head and give the women your genuine thanks for keeping you and feeding you these past few days, grabbing your backpack with all your belongings and eventually using three green fingers to wave goodbye to them.  The very first thing Din says when he seamlessly joins you outside the Keja later is, “That wasn’t funny,” which just makes you laugh harder.

***

About a half hour has passed, and you’re walking along a dirt road, cradling a very happy baby in your arms and giving the grown man next to you an incredibly hard time.

“You’re unbelievable,” you mutter, your back twinging slightly at the way you’re leaning about as sideways as you can get without falling over.  You think you’re basically just the hypotenuse between the ground and Din, who easily supports almost your entire weight with your backpack slung around his far shoulder and readily allows you to rest against him.

“They’re fine,” he grumbles in response, squeezing you tight to his side.  You just have to focus on moving your feet; it’s like he’s practically carrying your upper-half anyways.  “I gave them the night off.”

“You stuffed them in a closet,” you hiss, feeling his shoulder shrug under your cheek.

“I gave them the robe back,” he says, not really defending himself and more just throwing it out there to see if it helps any.  “I’m sure someone’s found them by now, they’re fine.”

Your eyes suddenly go wide, absolutely mortified at the thought.  “Wait.  What do you mean you gave the robe back?”

He shrugs once more, apparently not seeing the problem yet.  “I borrowed it, so I gave it back after I put my armor back on.”

If you could plant your feet on the dirt road and screech to a halt, you would, but all your weight is already resting on him and you’re working solely off his forward movement.  You just hope your tone holds the same amount of shocked disapproval your body language would’ve conveyed if you weren’t so completely attached to his hip like a parasite he adores.

“You fucked me wearing it, though.”  Your voice is strangely flat, so fucking confused and horrified by the mental image of him just tossing the soiled garments haphazardly somewhere in the temple behind you, or even worse, leaving them somewhere respectful, and Din soon stops in the middle of the deserted road.

“Oh,” is all he says, emotionless and blank through the modulator.  Did he not even consider this?

“I had to promise them I was a virgin just to sleep there, you know,” you admit, and you can tell that’s brand new information to him with how still he goes as you continue to lean against him.  You’re getting the feeling that he probably knows a lot more about your experiences on this moon than you think he does, but can tell that this is brand new information to him.  “And you locked three of their holy men in a closet, chased me across the temple grounds, fucked me in one of their robes, and then.  You gave it.  Back.”

Din stays perfectly silent for quite some time.  You can never go back to that place, you know this for a fact.  You’re banned forever now, it’s what you deserve.

Never one to be outdone but not actually having anything to say for himself, Din suddenly decides to just scoop you into his arms and boost up into the sky without a single word like an actual fucking maniac.

You squeal and damn near drop the baby because of it, but he cinches you tight to his chest and refuses to loosen with your struggle.  Eventually, after you realize he’s completely locked you in and you won’t fall to your death with this poor innocent child in your arms, you glance over the shiny pauldron on his shoulder and watch the kid’s crib disappear by the abandoned road as Din takes you higher and higher.

The crib—he forgot the crib—

“D-Din,” you stammer out through the whistling air, stiff as a board.  Stars, you have such a different sense of adventure than him; an explorer and a daredevil, one who gets a thrill from discovering the existence of the edge of a cliff and one who’ll take a running dive off of it without thinking twice.  He’s hit with blaster fire some days, he faces down death completely fearless like it owes him one every single time, and you’re stiff as a fucking board while he carries you through the sky.  It’s stunning up here, it’s exciting and wonderful, but you’re so scared that you can barely even look.  He’s giving you the most fantastical view, everything your budding adventurous streak could ever ask for, and your terror is crushing.  It would be different if you could hold on, but you’re responsible for not letting the baby slip through your arms and you just have to trust that he won’t let you slip through his.

You raise your voice.  “Din?!”

“I won’t drop you,” he automatically reassures, and well you sure as fuck hope not, but there’s something else.

“What about the crib?”  You call out over the wind whipping, tucking the baby tight to your chest and settling your hands over his ears to avoid them flapping and whacking you repeatedly in the chin.

“We’ll come back for it,” he responds, just as easily.  Maker, you wish decision-making came that easy to you, that commitment and choice should be so simple as to just fly away from things on the ground and promise out loud to come back for them.  You know he will, but still, his spontaneity shocks you after spending the past week thinking every decision through meticulously, and you’re taken aback by the casualness of it all while soaring through the sky, committing such spectacular feats without a single thought beyond it.

Soon—incredibly soon, which honestly kind of blows your mind—you spot Nariss glowing in the distance and then you’re flying overtop of the city, slowly dropping altitude in the middle of a quiet little side street.

Din carefully allows your feet to settle on the ground before letting go, but you still stumble a bit stupidly after flying so high without any sort of safety measure besides him, prioritizing the steadiness of the baby in your arms instead of your feet underneath you.  His gloves catch at your clumsy body and pull you along with him without another word, leading you out of the quiet alley and into the middle of a beautiful, luminescent street.

What’s he doing?  He seems slightly hurried, and you’re clueless but you go with it, clamoring along behind him to wherever he’s leading you.

Though, you suddenly remember one of the very last things you told him last night right before he steps up in front of a vendor.

“Caf,” Din grunts, sliding a few credits towards the man standing behind the counter. “The… biggest one you have.”

Okay, well.  You could just about fucking cry.

“Y’sure?” The vendor asks skeptically, jerking his head at the large thermos behind him.  He’s balding, wearing a white outfit with his eyes scrunched up and forehead sweaty, likely working all day.  “It ain’t fresh.  Closin’ up soon, was just about to trash it and go home.”

The helmet turns to gauge your response to the news, the sharp angles and contours looking so sleek and dangerous as they reflect the colorful lamplights, but just filling you with comfort beyond anything in the entire galaxy.  He’ll take that armor off for you tonight and you’ll sleep next to him.  He’ll call you by your given name, or the fond name he’s given you, and you’ll cuddle your baby on a metal floor in hyperspace with him, and all will be well.  Even if he needs to leave again soon—even if you don’t get to go with him, you’ll always have these small eternities with each other, and that’s more enough for you now.

You’re completely zoned out while staring at him, and Din turns back to the vendor before you can even remember the conflict he was attempting to defer to you.

“Yeah, just empty the whole thing in there for her,” he mutters, and you want to marry him.  It’s been a long week, and in your haze and delight of being with him in this gorgeous setting, your brain turns to cavewoman mush.  Big man, makes me happy.  Strong man, loves me, knows me.  Provider, makes me feel good, protector, loves me.

Din hands you the large cup of steaming caffeine, clueless to your grunted inner monologue but knowing better than to reach out and grab the kid from your other arm.  You’re just fine like this, hands full, the little frog snuggled up against your side and blinking up at your face instead of any of the shiny or glowing things around you.  When you look down at him, you can see the world through his eyes—quite literally, they’re reflective and gigantic—and his father’s hand quickly finds its preferred spot on your lower back.

“Try to drink it quick,” Din advises you gruffly, pulling you snug into his side and sloshing the big cupful of piping hot liquid in your hand.

“It’s a thousand degrees,” you protest, trying to balance your three favorite things in the universe all begging for your direct attention at once.  “It has to cool down.”

He gives a dismissive hm in response, and you frown even as your heart soars with how tightly he’s gripping you, how little leeway you have to even move without him.  Part of you is so thrilled at being reunited with him that you consider snarking something back at him, excitement making you brave.  He could probably chug boiling hot liquid in thirty seconds and doesn’t see the point in letting it sit any longer, and you could make some stupid joke about filtering it through his helmet or having a built in bendy straw but you decide to keep it to yourself.

So then you just stand there together, under stringed lights and flowers everywhere, and he waits.  Holding you glued to his side, completely silent and clearly just waiting for your caf to stop steaming so threateningly in your hand so you can drink it.  For some reason, the fact that he’s wanted by the New Republic doesn’t really register at this second—you’re not looking for cops, though he may be.  You’re just lost in this beautiful, fancy city that’s on the edge of finally quieting down after a long day, and you’d like to see more of it with him next to you.

“Well, do you wanna just…”  You ask, tilting your head around at all the vendors.  “Shop around for a bit?”

“Shop… around,” Din repeats slowly, sounding the words out like they’re not common Basic.  Admittedly, they do sit a bit awkward in his voice when put together like that, describing a phenomena he’s likely never even considered a thing before, but it’s so fucking pretty here and you’d like to show him something this time instead of the other way around.

“Yeah, like,” you shrug a shoulder, tipping your head in a random direction.  Anywhere, you’ll go literally anywhere with him, the three of you can go explore.  “Just wander around, and look at all the pretty things.”

From where you’re standing right now, you can already see glittering crystals and jewels being sold at the tent across the street, there’s a booth dedicated entirely to floral arrangements and crowns next to it, you can hear a distant quartet playing melodically in the distance and a couple is being painted by an artist on the corner.  Bars are in full swing at this point, as if they weren’t all day, and even though the merchandise is all different, the multicolored tents look slightly similar when they’re underlit with multicolored lights.  It’s less slightly lively than it was in the daytime, but also… more beautiful, in a sense.  Muted, softer, more romantic.

“I don’t have any more credits,” Din admits casually, finally turning to look around at everything.  You get the feeling that he’s just now seeing it, even after spending the entire day here.  “That stale caf was the last of it.”

Money well fucking spent, you can assure him of that.

“It’s okay,” you tell him automatically, gently bumping your hip into his.  “We don’t need credits, we can just look.”

So that’s what you do.  Even though it’s completely not his fucking style, for the next hour or so, you just walk around downtown with him and sip your caf, looking at anything and everything new and experiencing it with him.  At first, you think he’s just entertaining you, following you while you discover new streets and attractions, but then he points out different things and you know he's looking, too.  There are large animals harnessed up and pulling carts for people to ride, there's an enormous spinning wheel set up in the distance, its colorful lights flickering out as soon as you ask what the fuck that is and why anyone would ever get inside one.

You eventually end up finishing your caf around the time he’s leading you back through a quiet, abandoned alleyway, and you hand him the empty cup to throw away in one of the trash cans on the corner.  The conversation has faded to a comfortable quiet and you don’t really need to ask—you go willingly, not requiring anything beyond his hands on you and the baby dozing in your arms.

“Come on, sweet girl,” he murmurs, gently sweeping you up into his.  You sigh, glad he’s giving you a moment to prepare yourself this time, holding the sleeping kid securely to your chest and resting your head on his shoulder.  “Let’s go home.”

After you’re comfortable, Din rockets up from the ground and climbs high up into the canvas sky.  He disappears with you and the baby into the pastel clouds above, making it back to the Razor Crest in probably about an hour, maybe less.  You and the baby do nothing more than climb into the comfy floor blankets while Din starts up the engines, and you think you’re dozing off together by the time he makes the pit stop to collect the crib and the jump into hyperspace.

You think he might shower?  You’re not sure—you just know he moves up behind you in bed at one point without any armor, burying his face in your hair while you cuddle the sleepy kid to your chest.  It’s dark in the hull, Din’s palms are bare and warm as they slide around the front of your body and he breathes you in, and there isn’t a single place that can touch you here, not a single place you’d rather be.

Home.

***

@followwhereshegoes​ Thank you for the stunning artwork! 💕To anyone interested in possibly doing an art collab in the future, please message me!!

[anemo-writes]

hello travelers! again, thank you for putting up with my inactivity, it’s been hard to write lately haha. anyways, i thought this would be something fun to post and for everyone to enjoy, whether you celebrate Valentine’s Day or not :) (note: this will probably be more fanon than canon so please bear with me, i’ll make it as canon as it can be :’) i also kept this pretty short, so hopefully that’s okay too,, and sorry for this being late haha—i wrote this very late at night so don’t mind any typos you find please)

much love,

~ anemo-chan <3

(The Playable) Genshin Impact Characters on Valentine’s Day (Romantically)

super romantic; gifts you a bouquet of flowers and takes you out to eat at a fancy restaurant/cooks for you.

Diluc

He is nervous. He’s never paid close attention to the countless amount of people who have lined outside the tavern to ask him to be their Valentine, only to be rejected. There was absolutely no way that he would turn to Kaeya for advice, so unfortunately this was something he would have to figure out for himself. He figures that it wouldn’t hurt to go traditional, so that’s what he does; he buys a large bouquet of roses (which he had to get from Donna, seeing that at the hours that he ended work were very late and Flora’s shop was not open at the time—yeah, that was not fun) and presents himself outside your doorway, to which he invites you to join him for a late dinner—which he makes!

Lisa

She leaves a letter on top of your nightstand, paired along with a singular rose. The letter states for you to meet her outside of Good Hunter, where you find her sitting at a table with a candle dimly-lighting up the surroundings. She greets you with a warm smile, gesturing for you to sit down—the two of you enjoy a candle-lit dinner as well as bolognese she specially requested for Sara to make for the two of you to enjoy together why does this remind me so much of Lady and the Tramp,,

Tartaglia

Oh boy. It’s always a fun time spending a holiday with him, seeing that it could go two ways; one, he would be too busy to celebrate it with you on the day of, and he would take you out the day after, or two—have a store’s entire line of merchandise presented to you outside your doorstep, in which a very, very smiley Tartaglia hidden within the pile (after all, he was the best present!) After you’re done moving all of the gifts into your house (it took up the space of your entire living room), he tells you to cover your eyes and follow him. He takes you to one of the most well-known restaurants in Liyue (which currently doesn’t have a name because it is very late here!), and insists that you order whatever you want, and however much you want.

Zhongli

Over the years, he’s witnessed many, many couples celebrate this holiday and every year he’s wished to do the same. He finds the perfect opportunity to do so when Valentine’s Day is around the corner, and boy does he plan it out for the two of you. He’s even made sure to have his wallet on him at all times—it would be extremely rude for you to have to pay if he happened to forget his wallet. He makes sure to stop by to pick up a bouquet of flowers, as well as a bottle of perfume (not in a bad way, just to clarify) from Ying’er’s shop that he recalled you liked. He makes sure to pick you up early from your work place to make sure you made it to your appointment on time; after all, being late to an appointment was similar to breaking a contract, no?

surprises you with homemade sweets.

Fischl

Oh, she is so nervous—of course, she doesn’t show this. The entire week, she spent researching recipes to create a special batch of chocolate-dipped strawberries just for you—she even sent Oz to the nearby farms to “borrow” the freshest strawberries for the treat (the farmers were too scared to confront the talking bird who “borrowed” their strawberries, so luckily they got away with it). She dips them in a purple-colored chocolate (because what other color would she use, really?) and drizzles on a dark-chocolate syrup to top it off. She’s too shy to actually give it to you herself though, so she has Oz drop it off for her.

Ganyu

Even though she’s quite busy, she’s somehow found time to whip up a special batch of chocolate just for you! She shapes them into Glaze Lilies (which she found quite hard, which is why there are so few of them) and presents them to you in a neatly-sealed box. She’s quite modest when your eyes widen and tell her it’s the best chocolate you have ever eaten, claiming that she only followed a recipe, when she really made it from scratch.

Keqing

Like Ganyu, you have no idea how she finds time to create a perfect array of chocolates, which she made herself! However, with her tightly-packed schedule, she has to drop it off at your house in advance, to which you accept happily. She tried to decorate them with designs of cartoon-versions of your faces, but they’re a bit...messy. Nonetheless, they’re tasty, and to her relief, you enjoy them.

Mona

Somehow, she’s managed to scrape up enough mora to buy you a necklace; yes, a necklace, and a real one at that—none of that fake, costume jewelry stuff! She even added a pendant shaped like star, just so you could be reminded of her whenever you fiddled with it or even glanced at it. She’s quite flustered when she gives it to you, ignoring the way you ask how she managed to save this much mora to be able to buy something like this, changing the subject on how you should never-ever take it off (because it looks great on you.)

Noelle

One word: pancakes. (Have you seen the ones she makes for her special dishes? They’re frigging amazing) As a dutiful maid should, she wakes up especially early to prepare a homemade breakfast just for you, to which she serves to you just as your wake up in bed. The fluffy stack of pancakes are decorated with fruits cut up in heart-shapes, as well the words, “Happy Valentine’s Day, Y/N”, written neatly with chocolate syrup—it’s quite a sight to see, to be honest, and utterly delicious. Lucky you!

Xiangling

The day before, she tells you to meet her at the restaurant around noon. When you arrive, the restaurant is adorned with Valentine decorations, as well as a terrifying amount of food; she insists that she only made it for you, so you better eat up! Before she can show you the other dishes, the restaurant is suddenly filled with a strong, bitter smell—something burning. With a yelp, she runs into the kitchen, coming out a few minutes later with a tray of half-scorched cupcakes, their Gouba-shapes adorned with...a lot of burn marks. Oh well, it’s the thought that counts, doesn’t it?

buys/makes a present for you.

Albedo

Without your knowledge, Albedo has been creating a collection of artworks throughout all the time you had spent together. The pieces include portraits of you, portraits of you and him (sucrose helped with this), as well as just random sketches of the little things that remind him of you, such as the bare, snowy-white terrain where the two of you first met, as well as its flora and fauna. If you request it, he’ll even make the painting come alive (literally), and the two of you run to Sucrose’s dwelling, who is very shocked to see the pair of you running from a Frosted Lawachurl when she peered out her window to see if she could pinpoint the sounds of distant screaming.

Amber

Is there anything better than a matching set of wind gliders? Not only that—they were homemade! She spent the last couple of weeks putting together a pair of gliders for the two of you, customizing them to your tastes (which she nailed!) She quite literally drags you to the nearest hill to test them out, and the two of you end up challenging each other on who can get back to the Knights of Farvonius Headquarters the fastest—spoiler alert: she did.

Barbara

Oh, she would make the cutest card for you—the envelope is decorated with cute stickers (some of them even had her face on it; there’s nothing like promoting merchandise, am i right? jkjks) She also pairs it off with a box of chocolates that she bought from Sara—however, what she didn’t know was that in the box was a special-edition spicy chocolate truffle. With your luck, that was the first one you chose—and boy, were you met a surprise (it was so bad that you were begging Barbara to use her Vision on you, which she refused of course). Fun times.

Chongyun

He’s real sweet. After his expeditions and commissions, he opens the freezer (yes he keeps them in there, don’t judge him) to an array of ice sculptures, shapes varying from flowers, hearts, and such—although it’s quite the simple gift, he’s put a lot of effort into them, even putting in the extra effort to cast a spell to make sure they would not melt; it’s all worth though, when he sees the absolutely giddy expression on your face, and the look of pure awe as you pick one up and study it closely, admiring all of the details and work that’s he put in.

Ningguang

She sends out informants to find out what you like, whether it be something that your gaze settled on for too long or something you’ve mentioned while talking to her—on the day of, you open your door to a mountain of gifts, with Ningguang herself peering out from behind it with a calm smile and a wave (which was the opposite of your reaction, because who has that much mora to purchase all of these gifts?!?)

Razor

He doesn’t have a clue on what the holiday until Lisa asks him if he’s planned something for the two of you during one of his lessons. When he shakes his head no, Lisa suggests that he make you something, to which he sets out on an adventure to do, looking for flowers and flower stems to weave into a pair of matching bracelets—they’re not the prettiest, but he is pretty proud of it; after all, it was his first time making something like that. He’s quite nervous to present it to you, afraid that you might not like it, but all feelings of worry melt away when you slide it on with a huge smile on your face, insisting that he wears his too.

Sucrose

At first, she considers gifting you a present that she created herself; of course, with her work being alchemy, she isn’t sure if that would be the safest option, despite being talented herself. And so, she resorts to buying a present for you—she is very picky with the present though, insisting that it should be perfect since she could not make one herself. She even consults Albedo when selecting some of the presents (he doesn’t help her unfortunately; he believes that she should figure it out herself haha). Like Razor, she’s quite nervous to give it to you, but lets out a huge sigh of relief as you thank her happily for the gift, wiping a bead of sweat from across her forehead (sucrose bby anything you give us would be perfect,,)

whisks you away somewhere sentimental, where the two of you can enjoy a special date.

Beidou

It’s ungodly early in the morning when Beidou presents herself in front of your doorstep, announcing that you’ll be joining her and the crew on a special ride. She tugs you along beside her until you reach the harbor, where you are met with the sight of her ship adorned with streamers and banners, varying between shades of pink and red. Onboard, there is a table filled with goodies the crew collected and made, and boy do they look delicious. The group sets out to sea, and you take your place next to the captain, who even lets you steer the boat (momentarily, at least.)

Bennett

He takes you to meet his dads; yes, yes—he knows that it’s not the most romantic thing to do on a day dedicated to lovers, but he figures it’s just as important. Besides, they’ve been asking about you for quite a while—they even set up a small party within the Adventurer’s Guild, with the help of Bennett, of course. You spend the day listening to their old adventuring stories, as well as bits from Bennett’s childhood (poor boy is flustered from all the information his dads are spilling, but he’s still happy either way; after all, he’s with the most important people to him.)

Kaeya

He quite literally kidnaps you; one second you’re walking in the streets of Mondstadt on your way to work when suddenly someone grabs you by the waist and pulls you into an alley way (that sounds so creepy but i swear he means it in a good way). He only chuckles and shields himself with his arms as you punch him lightly, retorting that he scared you. He doesn’t care that the two of you have an overwhelming amount of work to do—after all, Valentine’s Day only comes once a year, right? Surprisingly, he doesn’t take you the tavern, but instead...Dawn Winery! Diluc received quite the surprise when he is met with the two of you standing outside his gates, with Kaeya requesting a wine/grape juice taste-testing. Yeah...you guys didn’t get any of that, but you did manage to snag a couple of grapes on your way out! Good for you!

Venti

You wake up in your bed, opening your eyes to see a very-smiley Venti laying beside you, chin propped up against his hand as he watches you yawn sleepily as you force yourself out of bed. You’re then presented with a handpicked-bouquet of Ceceilias, the freshest of the bunch, if he may add. You barely have time to thank him before he hoists you up in his arms and out of your dwelling, gliding over the city of Mondstadt as he whisks you away to Starsnatch Cliff, where he’s prepared a special performance just for you (and no, you don’t need to pay.)

Xingqiu

While he’s not the most romantic, he does have a clue on what people look for on Valentine’s Day; after all, that’s what cheesy-romance novels were for, right? Unbeknownst to you, he takes you on a date very similar to the one the main characters in his favorite novels partook in—and you don’t find out until you catch him peeking into the pages while you weren’t (you were) looking. Again, it’s the thought that counts—

doesn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day.

Jean

Sadly, she probably forgets about the holiday. She’s too busy holed-up in her office to notice the couples gathered up in the courtyard, sharing moments with their lover. It’s not until she walks out to take a breather that she notices the commotion—she immediately calls you over, apologizing frantically. Of course, to this you respond that’s it’s okay, but that you would much rather her take the rest of the day off to spend time together, to which she reluctantly agrees.

Xiao

“I do not have time to celebrate silly human traditions like that.” He would say as you bound up to him, exclaiming that it’s Valentine’s Day, the day where you can give sweets to your loved ones, and asking if he had someone special in mind to spend it with. He’s irked when your gaze falters and the grip on the object you’re hiding behind your back tightens—he only grows more irked as you mutter to yourself how you’ll give the chocolates you made to someone else. He scoffs loudly, avoiding your gaze as he lays out his hand in front of you to accept the chocolates (just because he doesn’t celebrate the holiday doesn’t mean he can’t get jealous!)

[sylvanas-girlkisser]

Arcane Background Lore/Easter Eggs (Episode 6)

Welp folks, just one more sleep until Arcane part 3 [screams internally].

Mel’s painting depicts “The Immortal Bastion”, the enormous fortress that serves as Noxus’ seat of government. However, the artist at Fortiche who drew it kinda messed up by making it seem like the bastion had two towers connected by a bridge at the top, when in reality it has three (representing the three pillars of Noxian philosophy). I’m willing to bet this is down to them using this specific piece of concept art as primary reference:

That aside, Mel referencing being an outcast from her family, while we see pictures of Noxus is clearly meant to imply to savy viewers that she has familial ties to Noxus. I’m not really sure what to do with her episode 1 line about being the richest person in Piltover, but the poorest Medarda, since according to League lore, clan Medarda is a well-established Piltover house, but it’s also supposed to be led by a patriarch with a man named Jae Medarda as heir apparent… Best guess there’s been a retcon and we’ll need to wait until part 3 to know how it all fits together.

The rune in frame when Viktor pokes the hex core, is the rune for sorcery. You know the thing Viktor is trying to learn.

This motif of a pink eye atop a tower-like structure at the entrance to the sump might be a reference to the “vision ward” item in league which are these little structures you can place that have this pink eye floating above it which reveals invisible enemies and stuff. They have since been renamed to “control wards” and had their color changed to red, but the fandom still often refers to them as “pink wards”.

The character featured in Ren’s storybook is someone named Teemo, whom a significant portion of the fandom (including yours truly) despise for being an absolute menace to play against. Also him and Vi used to be a popular ship with the straight cis boy segment of the fandom, and they even had a semi-canon wedding. I wish I was joking.

There is a kind of pink potion in League called “Corrupting Potion”, which restores health and magic while temporarily increasing the damage of your attacks. However the potion Caitlyn trades her rifle for is a very different shade of pink, more similar to that used for shimmer.

Whatever you do, do not look up what Singed’s looks like in League, cause you will not be able to take him seriously as a villain afterwards. He’s one of the first characters they came up with for the game and his design has aged like milk.

Ravens have made a lot of appearances throughout the show, and so far I have assumed it was mostly just set-dressing. However now that we know Noxus will play a part in the story, I would be remiss not to mention that Jericho Swain, the Grand General of Noxus (essentially their president) is visually heavily associated with ravens, though its not clear whether or not he actually is the Grand General at the time Arcane takes place.

So, here used to be a segment talking about why I didn’t think the leader of the firelights was going to be Ekko, but then act 3 came out, and proved that I was full of shit. Instead let me take this space to highlight some of the clues to Ekko being the Firelights leader, and how they were just vague enough to prevent people from definitively calling it:

- Ekko is very heavily associated with clocks, the first part of the Firelights leader we see is his pocket watch, but in league Ekko wears a wrist watch (sorta).

- Ekko signature weapon is a cricket bat (not a shillelagh) in League, but in a lot of early concept art he does wield a shillelagh just like the Firelights leader.

- Just like with the crystal grenades, in League ekko can both stun enemies and throw grenades, but they are separate abilities and rely on time magic to work.

- In the “True Genius” trailer, Ekko builds a rocket powered skateboard, however its not until Heimerdinger gets his hands on it that it starts to fly.

Breaking a bit with tradition here because I think there is a slight chance that Samira might actually make a cameo in Arcane. She’s basically the person Noxus sends in when they want a messy situation dealt with and don’t care who gets caught in the crossfire, and her fighting style would look amazing in Arcane’s animation style. It’s probably just wishful thinking, but she would make sense to bring in as a character to represent how much you shouldn’t fuck with Noxus.

If there’s anything I missed please let me know, I’m planning to do a breakdown like this for each episode.

1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9

[marshmallowloves]

Zelda OC #5 - Koci and Rina

>> (list of posts for other OCs)

(Same warning as last time - due to the amount of development that went into this one, it's gonna be a real doozy! Be prepared for a very long read!)

Tesni's development from beginning to end took place over the course of several years, but I never considered her a self insert until very recently. I actually didn't start getting into making self inserts (the most thinly-veiled ones, anyway) as a whole until I had begun to flesh out Tesni's current origin story, but that was about to change!

On a whim one day, I thought about what race in the Zelda universe I might be if I were to just plop myself in there. I considered traits about the different races that I liked, what fit me most in terms of personality... Like my own completely-daydreamed uquiz, before I even knew uquiz existed. And in that imagined uquiz, I ended up with Kokiri - I'm short, look way younger than I actually am, love music and wooded areas, and am a child at heart. I thought it fit pretty well! Plus, I always did like the Kokiri for their whimsical forest-dwelling aesthetic - heck, Saria was literally the reason I made my very first Zelda OC!

So for shits and giggles, I scribbled on a paper, word for word, "If Cici were in Zelda, she'd be a Kokiri" and underneath that I drew the very first iterations of Koci and Rina, who would remain as my main Zelda OCs/self insert to this day.

Koci and Rina were actually first named Lyot and Zumi, respectively. "Lyot's" design would remain relatively consistent for a very long time throughout her development - a WW-style sleeveless tunic, detached sleeves with loose ends, and knee-high (sometimes thigh-high) boots. Her fairy only stays purple for this particular drawing, however. In fact, there was barely any time between this drawing and the next when I decided to change their names entirely.

"Lyot" simply became my name - Cici - which really just solidified the fact that this was a self insert through and through. Meanwhile "Zumi" became Rina - and Rina has a real life story!

To condense it as much as I can, I once had a very vivid dream about an angel with jade green rings around her wrists. In the dream, she'd transfer them onto my wrists as a form of protection and carry me around outside to show me how my neighborhood looked at night. I woke up with absolutely convinced I had met my guardian angel, but I lamented having never seen her face (specifically, her eyes were shadowed over) nor learned her name. I called her the "Ring Angel" for the longest time, but wanted to condense it whenever I wrote about her, so I shortened it to "Rina." So in this instance, Rina became Cici's guardian fairy.

Like I said, the designs remained largely the same. The differences here were Cici's longer hair (which from this point on tends to switch back and forth from the short hair again), the snowflake hair clip, and the diamond earring - which was absolutely 100% intended to mimic Ghirahim's earring, because I was still thirsty for him (I was still developing Tesni alongside Cici!) Later on, Cici also got glasses. Not really sure why I didn't draw them up there dkjfg.

Additionally, to reflect her origin, Rina's color changed from purple to a faded green, and I made it a point to always draw her with her eyes shut. After that, her design has barely changed to this day.

Being a self-insert, Cici's personality was more in line with mine - quiet, kind of weird, a bit childish, and naive to a degree. Despite her being a Kokiri, she had the mental maturity of an adult, since I would feel really weird making what was supposed to be a self insert have the mind of a literal child. It was more like "I am very much an adult in nearly every aspect but now I am just smaller."

Unlike my other OCs at the time, Cici didn't really have an origin story or a purpose. I mostly just drew her in random silly situations, comics, and RP'd with friends about various Zelda stuff. I didn't bother sticking to any one canon world - she'd interact with Ghirahim because at the time, I didn't consider Tesni a self insert, but now I was much more shameless about my attraction for him.

Since I had self inserts named Cici for other fandoms at the time, I referred to this one as Kokiri Cici and later shortened that to Kocici to save a little time. For the longest time Kocici remained this silly, fun little vessel for memes, doodles, and overall just having a good time while I played and talked about Zelda games with friends. In some instances, Kocici was just with Rina. In others she was with her Zora brother, Kodi, and in others still she was goofin' it up with my friends' self inserts - well, Lee's, mostly.

However, it was around the time I played BOTW and started shipping with Link that I decided to flesh out Kocici. One of the first things I did was change her name once more, to something that both held onto the origins of Kocici and sounded a little more "Zelda" to boot - Koci! And thanks to Lee's wonderful art skills, I was blessed with a concept for Koci that would become her staple design to this day~ Here's a quick, plain version of it!

Now's where things get juicy! Koci's personality remained about the same - she is a self insert, after all. However, her story changed heavily depending on what world she was in! I have three different versions of her, so three different stories! They're a bit of a read (I know, there's already so much in this post kjdfg) so feel free to skim or skip to the end.

After Tesni was finally christened a self insert, I no longer had a need for Koci and Ghirahim to interact, save for a bit of dialogue I wrote for shits and giggles if Koci were in Hyrule Warriors. So we can skip that. XD

In Breath of the Wild, Koci is born in the Korok Forest shortly before the Calamity, as the only Kokiri amongst her Korok siblings. The Goddess, anticipating this, instructs the Great Deku Tree to raise Koci so that she may learn to protect and bless the Master Sword for the hero to claim when the time comes. The Goddess sends down Rina, an angel in the form of a guardian fairy, to aid Koci in these blessings and teach her that this duty is given to her by the Goddess herself. In addition to Rina providing her with the sacred magic needed to bless the blade, Koci also grows up learning basic combat to fend off anyone who may threaten it.

Since Koci is sworn to the Master Sword's protection, when Link first comes to claim it, Koci and Rina accompany him in order to ensure it remains at its full strength. When Link is forced to undergo his restorative slumber, Koci and Rina return to the Korok forest to continue their duties while they wait for him to awaken. This version of Koci easily has had the most thought and substance put into her. This is the condensed version, and it would take a lot more text and time to explain it all! So I'll cut it here.

In Phantom Hourglass, Koci takes the role of Link and Hadiyah (Lee's self insert) takes the role of Tetra... though it's a bit different skdjf. Hadiyah has, to put it bluntly, gone on a fuck-quest to find Ganondorf... with the intention of bedding/marrying him... and not even saying bye??? So Koci, being a decent portion of Hadiyah's impulse control, sets off to search for her friend and hopefully knock some sense into her. With the minimal sailing knowledge she's inexplicably gained from Wind Waker (where did this happen? did she replace Link there too? who knows, not me kdjfg) she and Rina craft themselves a dingy little boat that promptly gets obliterated in a storm not 2 hours from their starting point...

Later, an unconscious Koci is discovered floating on a piece of her boat by none other than Linebeck who, despite being kind of a jerk is not actually a complete jerk. So he plucks her and the fairy bottle she's clutching from the water and at the very least ensures they don't succumb to hypothermia, and when Koci wakes, she and Rina explain that they're looking for their friend. From that point on, they basically follow the plot of the game~

And lastly, in A Link Between Worlds, old texts describe the Kokiri as an elusive race that were known and adored for their eternal, youthful beauty - so much so, that ages ago Kokiri were often captured and kept in the homes of corrupt Hylians as trophies. The Kokiri that avoided this fate sunk deeper into hiding until many thought they disappeared entirely. Koci grows up in her home village hearing these stories, and decides she doesn't want to hide like the rest of her people. She learns to defend herself and sets out with Rina to explore the rest of the world, but is still sometimes plagued with inexplicable nightmares of a particularly powerful captor who is rumored to still be alive today...

Yuga, still on his quest for beauty, decides based on these texts that he must have one of these lovely beings to himself to preserve in painting form. The "elusive" part holds true, as the sorcerer scours every corner of the land for one of these forest-dwelling treasures. When he happens upon Koci, he is upfront about his intentions. Koci, fearful that this is the captor from her nightmare but in disguise, fights back and manages to nearly kill him, but Yuga offers a deal - spare him, and he'll help her find the real captor. At first it's a thinly-veiled ploy to gain her trust and later backstab/capture her, and Koci knows this, but she agrees only because his power would be useful in the search for this person. Over time, their dynamic goes from "enemies" to "I'll tolerate you because you're useful to me" to "you're not the worst person on the earth" to "why do I like you" to "ah damn it we accidentally became romantically involved" kjdfhg

Though the stories are different, some things about Koci and Rina remain relatively consistent between them - Rina is always an angel in the form of a fairy, and Koci's weapons are always twin morningstar flails (though depending on what the story calls for, she can wield other basic items like bombs and such). I have other small headcanons about them, but I think this post is long enough!

And so ends the long road to crafting my main Zelda self insert that I use to this day! (And when BOTW2 finally comes out, expect to see a lot more of Koci and Rina~)

[alextir-creates]

Zutara Fankids by Tigrette-of-Fire

…Look, I’m a little embarrassed about the fact that I ship zutara, given how polarized the atla fandom can be about shipping, but I had so much fun designing Taiyin and Arnaaluk I just couldn’t resist.

In all honesty, this was more an exercise in mixing genetics and expressions of two cultures than anything else (I mean seriously, I wasn’t exactly inspiredor anything when I named them lmao). Like I said in my Sukka fankids piece, I’m a mixed-race, multi-ethnic person – and getting to design characters that are of more than one culture and thinking about how to best visually express a connection with both sides of that character’s heritage is really fun for me. Zutara fankids are a goldmine for that kind of thing.

More info and image ID under the cut!

Unlike Taiyin and Arnaaluk, these guys can’t exist in a largely LoK-compliant verse. However, I’ve been thinking a lot about what I would’ve changed on the cultural sensitivity front in LoK, and honestly if I’m going to put the time and effort into doing that… I’m going to be self-indulgent and add my preferred ships, even though – and I cannot stress this enough – shipping has no bearing on why I dislike LoK.

So, welcome to the Hijack!Verse, I guess (which is to say the AU where I hijack the AtLA post-canon and do what I want); it’s completely self-indulgent and I’m sorry in advance. Taiyin and Arnaaluk absolutely exist in this verse too – and tbqh, most of the content I plan to make for them will be Hijack!Verse, not LoK compliant. Sorry again.

In any case, onto the Zutara kids! Let me give you a short run-down.

Kya (pictured at 16 in this drawing), Crown Princess of the Fire Nation and firebender, is the eldest. She’s outspoken, cheerful, and is a touch more mischievous than she perhaps should be (all in good fun or in the name of fucking with bigots, of course – she and her cousin Taiyin are two peas in a pod about this. I already have ideas about a Fire Boomerang Incident in mind when it comes to the two of them putting their heads together). Izumi (pictured at 15 in this drawing), is the second child. She’s likely a non-bender, and trains to mastery both with a spear in the Southern Water Tribe’s style and with a bow and arrows under the Yuyan Archers. On the more introverted end of things and fond of organization (Izumi is definitely on the autism spectrum), she likely grows up to be Kya’s Minister of Finance. Lu Ten (pictured at 13 in this drawing) is the baby of the family – on the shy end and emotionally intuitive. He’s a waterbender and chooses healing as his focus. As an adult, Lu Ten probably moves to the Southern Water Tribe pretty much full time – though, of course, he makes time to visit his sisters and vice versa.

I uh, honestly have more planned, but this is getting really long so I’ll save that for another time. I do want to say though that Kya, Izumi, and Lu Ten split their time growing up between the Fire Nation and the South Pole. It’s really important to me that they get to have equal connection to the Southern Water Tribe and its culture as they do to the Fire Nation – and frankly, there’s no way Katara wouldn’t make sure that they did. (This also means that Katara – and to a lesser degree, Zuko, given his responsibilities as Fire Lord – is splitting her time as well. There will be no cutting Katara off from her homeland OR stymying her drive to interact with the world/be a major global figure in this verse, no siree.

Avatar: The Last Airbender © Mike DeMartino, Bryan Konietzko, and Nickelodeon

Art © Me

[Image ID: Neck up headshots of three teenagers. The teen to the top right, labelled “Kya,” has light-to-medium brown skin, black hair, and blue eyes. She’s smiling widely enough that you can see her teeth, and is drawn at a three-quarter view facing the viewer’s left. She has two looped braids hanging from each of her temples, which are each secured with dark blue ties with gold trim. The rest of her hair is pulled up into a topknot, on which she is wearing a crown consisting of a red band and two stylized gold flames – the same hairpiece Avatar Roku is depicted wearing. To the lower right of her is a stylized drawing of the Fire Nation’s pre-imperial insignia, drawn in red.

The teen to the middle left, labelled “Izumi,” has light-to-medium brown skin, dark brown hair, and gold eyes. She is also drawn at a three-quarter view but is facing to the viewer’s right. Her expression is somewhere between concerned and amused, and her mouth is open as if to comment on whatever is causing that reaction. She sports the same “hair loopies” Katara does in the series – each adorned with a pale blue bead. The rest of her hair (and where the ends of the ‘hair loopies” are secured) is in a high ponytail (in universe called a phoenix plume) reminiscent of Zuko’s pre-banishment hairstyle. Her phoenix plume is secured by a red ribbon and has a small hairpiece shaped like a flame (similar to the crown we see Azula wear) in front of the tie. The motion of her hair implies that she is turning to look in the viewer’s direction.

The teen to the bottom right, labelled “Lu Ten,” has light brown skin, dark brown hair, and gold eyes. His expression looks vaguely surprised. He is also drawn at a three-quarter view, facing to the viewer’s left. His hair is shoulder length, with the top portion tied back into a warrior’s wolf-tail. His wolf-tail is decorated with the same, flame-shaped hairpiece Izumi wears. He is wearing an cream colored necklace akin to the one Sokka wears in the series. To the immediate right of him is the Southern Water Tribe crest, drawn in pale blue.

All of these headshots are circumscribed by a purple rectangular “frame.” The artist’s signature, reading “AlexTir” is in the bottom right corner

End ID]

[pineapple-lover-boy]

As I have decided my last post was way to fun too write I’ve decided to write another head canon/fanfic type of whatever.

This one concerns Teddy Lupin and Victoire Weasley.

Definitely has a big wedding like a year after they both graduate (and I don’t mean by just family)

They were the first in the family to get married after like a decade so Fleur, Molly, and (surprisingly) Hermione all get together to make it amazing

Fleur handles design choices (while consulting her daughter and future son in law of course)

Molly handles the more technical stuff like who gets invited, what types of food to they get/make, and seating charts

Hermione? She’s their human version of self control

She helps Fleur with not going too all out and makes sure Molly doesn’t put the wrong people together

She’s a huge help, really

Anyways, the wedding goes off without a hitch

(Bill was compelled to object because damnit it’s his little girl but the look on Fleur’s face tells him he might as well leave home and never come back if he does)

Now onto home life

Victoire is like her mother: blunt, a bit arrogant, but caring to a fault and very loyal

Teddy, although being described as a very nice young man by many, was: a troublemaker at heart, rowdy, clumsy just like his mother, but also very respectful and holds genuine concern for others

An interesting pair, really

Because of his clumsy ness, Victoire often had to attend to his injuries and clean up his messes

It was worth it though as he always managed to get her something that worked perfectly with her Veela features

It wasn’t all household woman that cleans after her husband though

When Victoire’s temper flared about some idiot making comments about her or people underestimating her Teddy was always there to calm her down and hold her tight

And Victoire was there every time he looked at the picture of his parents on the mantle piece

They are still the same teenagers they where at school (seriously, they’re barely even 20) so make out sessions are a must

Which now the children come along because they have their own house and are again, horny teenagers except they’re allowed to do this now

First off, I head canon Metamorphmagus genes come from muggleborns squib ancestors and once they awaken in a wizard they automatically become a dominant gene (child is more likely to have it than to not)

I hc their first child to be Remi Harry Lupin

Light brown hair just like his fathers original hair color, his grandfather, and his mother’s original hair color but with dark blue eyes like his other grandmother

It’s clear as he grows up that he inherits Veela traits even though it was thought to be impossible to, just like his uncle

He is a calm child, very smart too

As he is the first baby in years he is thoroughly doted on but he is always taught to never let it go to his head

Loves hearing stories of all his grandparents and his adoptive grandfather

Doesn’t change his appearance all that much but does so when playing with his father or putting on shows for the family

He prefers to keep his hair a soft green

Not too bright and nice for the eyes

He absolutely loves his little sister, Brielle Nymphadora Lupin

Tonks is fuming up in heaven while both Remus and Harry are secretly laughing

Brielle is much like the ones who came before her

She also inherited Veela and Metamorphmagus traits

Whenever she gets annoyed with people looking at her, even as a baby, she’ll make herself look positively ugly

She has her grandmothers silvery hair with the Weasley freckles and chocolate brown eyes

Once she weaned off of milk, to everyone’s surprise, she always had a hankering her raw meat

After all when one grandfather was full wolf and the other only about half wolf you kind of develop your own traits

She loves scaring the living daylights out of her mother but turning her face into random things

She once tried to do something so scary that she vowed never to do something like that ever again after seeing her mother’s reaction

Contrary to popular belief, this couple only had these two children

They knew their sanity was at risk if they had another; even with a well mannered child like Remi it was just too much

Remi was sorted into Hufflepuff like his father as his values were placed with loyalty more than intelligence

Brielle had another surprise in store for the family: she was sorted into Ravenclaw!

To have a brother like Remi she always admired his ability to teach her even when the entire house was shaking with the large family (this family is so big yet so close that generations down there will be like over 100 members and it’ll still be tight knit)

Brielle also strives to be smarter herself

A lot of the time she was treated as if she was an idiot just because she liked having fun more than reading

She, of course, proved them wrong when she had a successful pranking career at Hogwarts while also being a prefect and a head girl

Remi only ever became a prefect

He lamented to Headmaster McGonagall on how he would much rather focus on his studies and his friends than parading around Hogwarts trying to find troublemakers and she, with an amused smile on her face, crossed off Remi’s name for head boy the next year

Teddy and Victoire absolutely adored their children in every way

Often times Teddy would find himself confronting other who looked at the both of them

If that didn’t work then Victoire would come along and sock em on the nose

Even though their family wasn’t as big as others expected, they were a very chaotically happy family

And they wouldn’t have it any other way :)

[candythemew]

🔥 SkekLach (can be AOR Lach, Manga Lach, or JM Lee’s Lach)

OH BOY GET READY FOR AN ESSAY!!

(Also old post I’m getting back to, but for context this was for TDC Hot Takes. She asked for my favorite version of SkekLach.)

     Whenever I see SkekLach, it is such a joy regardless of iteration. I don’t know what it is exactly but I absolutely adore her. Although this wasn’t always the case! Originally I was indifferent to her and found her to be physically repulsive. I literally couldn’t look at her for extended periods of time. But through re-watching the series she’s really grown on me! ...But I think you all know about that by now! (Search her up on google and you’ll find SO much of my art.) ◬☾——– ≪ °✾° ≫ ——–☽◬      Each iteration has it’s own strengths and weaknesses, but I adore all of them. If you want to spare yourself a fangirlish analysis, I like AoR!Lach the best, but Manga!Lach is extremely cool. Although everyone shares traits, it’s more like comparing apples and oranges rather than [ X ] is better than [ Y ] . There is some overlap and bleeding between characters, but ultimately these are all vastly different timelines with different circumstances and characters. I’ll be dissecting each of them under the cut! ◬☾——– ≪ °✾° ≫ ——–☽◬

     As said above, There are three versions of The Collector. In order, the first one to be created was the Legendsverse/Manga SkekLach the Collector. Followed by the J.M. Lee/ Novel SkekLach, and finally AoR SkekLach. Who we see in age of resistance, and is the Collector of the main canon’s timeline. When I write for her, I tend to do a bit of blending with her various other versions. But even in the show, she’s a lot more keen and intelligent than she lets on to be. You just have to look for it! A lot of her character traits are subtle. I only really grew an appreciation for her after my first re-watch of the series! ◬☾——– ≪ °✾° ≫ ——–☽◬ Another thing to notice when it comes to the Collector is that unlike other alternate versions of canon characters, most main characters are relatively unchanged. SkekLach however has the most diversity in her character differences and alts.

◬☾——– ≪ °✾° ≫ ——–☽◬

𝕷𝖊𝖌𝖊𝖓𝖉𝖘𝖛𝖊𝖗𝖘𝖊

◬☾——– ≪ °✾° ≫ ——–☽◬

◬☾——– ≪ °✾° ≫ ——–☽◬      Manga!Lach has a much more muscular build. Even for his old age. He is adorned in ornate armor rife with symbolism and battle scars marring his flesh. These quirks to his character design reflect both his intelligence, and physical prowess in combat. His armor is stylized to look like faces. Both intimidating and fearful expressions decorating him in a display of intimidation. Fun Fact: in the manga, SkekLach was the second tallest Skeksis. With the Ritual Master being the true tallest of course. SkekLach was also a bit of a beastmaster. He had a loyal pack of Arduff always by his side ready to snatch up any unfortunate gelfling (or skeksis!) who got in his way. As well as a group of small, crawlie like creatures called Spy-eyes. He would have these creatures attatch themselves to a victim, and they would be allowed to see and hear anything said victim did. Anything they knew, The Collector would know too. He used these creatures to ensure Lahr’s co-operation in his plan for securing his place as Emperor SkekSo’s favorite and to foil The Chamberlain and Garthim Master’s plans against him. Oh yeah, did I forget to mention that he’s also a tactical mastermind?

◬☾——– ≪ °✾° ≫ ——–☽◬

𝔍.𝔐. 𝔏𝔢𝔢 𝔜𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔤 𝔄𝔡𝔲𝔩𝔱 𝔑𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔩𝔰

◬☾——– ≪ °✾° ≫ ——–☽◬

◬☾——– ≪ °✾° ≫ ——–☽◬

     Novel SkekLach is much more toned down, calm and (no pun intended) collected. Although he shares some qualities with both his manga and AoR counterparts, he’s kind of his own thing. He’s portrayed as more skinny and lanky. With a beak more similar in shape to SkekOk’s and wearing what appears to be a crown on his head. This Lach is much more directly involved with politics and wants to see his job through. Or at the very least just to get things over with. Oddly enough, unlike his previous version, he performs the Gelfling censuses. This trait would be later carried onto his canon successor. He was often blunt and to the point like AoR Lach, but didn’t really have the same punch that she has. In the novels he also has an animal companion. Much like Manga!Lach. A Royal Blue Phegnese. An avian mount creature that we never get to see, but we do get a loose description of. This was his preferred mount of choice. He was also good friends with SkekOk. They would often write to each other and even got drunk together. This is likely what inspired their close bond in AoR.

◬☾——– ≪ °✾° ≫ ——–☽◬ 𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔇𝔞𝔯𝔨 ℭ𝔯𝔶𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔩: 𝔄𝔤𝔢 𝔬𝔣 ℜ𝔢𝔰𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔠𝔢 ◬☾——– ≪ °✾° ≫ ——–☽◬

     And finally, our girl, AoR SkekLach! Everyone pretty much knows what she looks like by now. Incredibly diseased with oozing pustules that cause her constant pain every second of every day. Short snouted with dulled down tusks that were once razor sharp, and even sharper goldenrod eyes. (A glimpse back to the glory days perhaps?) Also since her introduction, she is the shortest skeksis in the series. Taking SkekOk the Scroll-keeper's orginal title of shortest by being about a head and a half shorter than him. Although she’s a female Skeksis, she’s not traditionally feminine. An interesting aesthetic choice for a female presenting Skeksis! Most of her colors being toned down blues and greens, Although she does have lots of bows that adorn her robes. Predominantly on her sleeves and shoulders. and in close up shots you can see that her puppet model has very distinct and pretty eyelashes. She’s very dirty as she doesn’t care much for her hygiene anymore. She doesn’t make an effort to change things as she has already tried multiple times to improve her condition, and has failed every time. The way she acts and presents can help us know that she's been through a lot. You can especially see this in the way she talks to others as well as herself. Adopting a mindset of: “Things either always stay the same or get worse.” This causes her to stay demotivated. To the point of not doing much of anything. She idolizes the glory days of her youth and desperatley wishes to go back to them, but she's a bit more self aware than her peers. Even she mocks her them for thinking that they can truly return to their former splendor. Although speculation on my part; it’s more than likely that in her prime she was similar to her manga counterpart. As she’s deceptively observant and oftentimes makes snide remarks in the background. Although she doesn’t care for showing it off. Being apolitical in the court, she sees no point in it. …Aside from the occasional drama or rumor she hears from either the Ornamentalist or Scroll-Keeper. As she's part of their little circle. Although speculation, she might even have some battle scars under her robes. As she’s talented when it comes to battle. Evidence to support this is when SkekVar the General asks for her assistance. Specifically when the Emperor ordered him to deal with the Gelfling. He picks her out of all of them. When she denies, he asks again reassuring her with an encouraging, “Come now! It’ll be fun!” While she replies with a disbelieving, “Ugh, I DOUBT that…” …And SkekVar was right. SHE DID HAVE FUN!

…And she got acid spit in her face which must have hurt 1,000 times more than it would for someone else as she’s very sensitive in her face due to her pustules. But hey! She got to kill a spitter and her mood changes pretty drastically for the positive going from that. Although she won't be able to enjoy it for too long since she dies 2 episodes later. Also when she drinks essence with the rest of the court during the scene where Skeksil watches the rest of them to make sure the Grunaks did their job, if you listen in the background she just straight up yells "I'M GONNA FIGHT A LANDSTRIDER!!" She wants to punch a horse. Good for her! So basically I just talked about all three of them at length for no reason but I hope you liked my ted talk. I have no idea where I was going with this, but yeah. I really really like SkekLach.

[cometcrystal]

rating (almost) every velma dinkley look

classic velma (several series and movies) - literally ushered in a new age of feminism. there weren’t many women on television that were styled like velma before velma. literally NOTHING bad can be said about this look and that’s why her look hasn’t changed as often as fred and daphne’s 10/10

a pup named scooby doo velma - i watched my first pup episodes today and i literally almost teared up several times from how genuinely fucking adorable this velma is. she’s so goddamn SMALL and canonically partially nonverbal and her friends respect her so much. this is probably my favorite velma of all time. ∞/10

what’s new scooby doo velma - her outfit doesn’t change here from classic velma, but her hair’s a different color and is a bit messier, so i’ve listed her separately for this list. i like the added dimension the messy hair adds to this velma: makes it seem like she’s stayed up until 4am on a wikipedia deep dive. very in character but i like her og hair color better so 9/10

more under the cut

mystery incorporated velma - a lot of people don’t like the bows but tbh i’m a fan for some reason. couldn’t explain why. this also gives us a shorter-sleeved sweater instead of one without rolled up sleeves which is something i just noticed. canonically gay but still gets a lot of in-universe comments about how ugly she is which is just not true and it makes me sad 8/10

scoob! velma - points added for canon latina velma but points taken away for gina rodriguez 5/10

be cools cooby doo velma - you are all SO MEAN to this velma because 1. she’s from be cool 2. she’s one of the first (if not the first) to be voiced by kate micucci and that’s just completely not fair. you all just miss mindy cohn and none of that is kate’s fault she’s just doing the best she can. and this velma is cute as hell anyway im always a fan when characters with glasses just have dots for eyes 10/10

linda cardellini velma pre-possession (scooby doo 2002) - like the icon she’s modeled after, she ushered in a new wave of feminism, this time lesbian-oriented. 100000/10

linda cardellini velma post-possession (scooby doo 2002) - i just don’t like the flippy swoosh hair on velma sorry. this entire outfit choice was the result of an alien’s take on young adult culture and not anything velma picked for herself so 7/10

linda cardellini velma (monsters unleashed) - the wig’s worse and it’s a swoop neck sweater not a turtleneck but its still velma so 1000/10

linda cardellini makeover velma (monsters unleashed) - literally just realized in both 2000s LA movies velma gets a makeover to make her Hotter and i dont like that very much. anyway points given for being extremely attractive ig and points taken away for this being velma trying to impress a man 5/10

hayley kiyoko velma (the mystery begins & curse of the lake monster) - this velma is so much better than yall give her credit for. not only is lesbian jesus hayley kiyoko playing her, but there’s like... 0 het plot in her first movie. it’s all in the 2nd one. and ms kiyoko is giving us an absolute master class in acting. a couple points deducted for the shelma in lake monster but this velma is still extremely good regardless 8/10

sarah gilman velma (daphne and velma) - terf bangs dinkley. really though she’s not THAT bad the only bad part of this velma is her wig and the actress’s FEW awkward acting moments. you guys just hate things made by women for women and girls 8/10

scooby apocalypse velma - ik shelma happens in this series and i haven’t finished it yet but this is still god tier velma. she’s extremely small you just can’t see it in this pic and she’s got an arc fitting to the series’ dark tone where she’s the one who started the apocalypse in the first place iirc and it’s extremely good. 100000/10

shaggy and scooby doo get a clue velma - you can’t see it in this pic but this velma :3s a lot which is a velma staple. 10/10

mystery map velma - have you guys watched this special? you should because velma’s EXTREMELY cute in it. she doesn’t look as much like pup velma as the other charas look like their pup versions but im still a big fan 10/10

where’s my mummy velma - literally the baddest bitch on the planet. in her natural habitat: academic study. and she still has time to be the villain for this movie. 10/10

winter velma (classic) - she doesn’t have time to f*ck around. she just puts on a hat and scarf after daphne gets onto her for not bundling up in the cold. her sleeves are still rolled up and she doesn’t even have tights or anything to cover her legs. she has better things to do than worry about than hypothermia 10/10

winter velma (wnsd) - this winter velma is more practical than the last but retains her pompom hat. LOVE the red boots 10/10

alien invaders velma - LOVE this breezy summer butch lesbian look. just a tshirt and shorts what more do you need really. one of my fav velma looks 10000/10

aloha scooby doo velma - this is basically her alien invaders look but with a lighter top and a lei. get this bread queen 100/10

legend of the vampire velma - people in the discord were hating on this look but tbh i don’t think it’s BAD it’s just not velma. if you put this outfit on daphne it’d work perfectly as a garish rock n roll getup imo. so 5/10 for effort

big top scooby doo velma - oh to be a tiny lesbian in a hideous outfit being lifted by a strongman 10/10

intro animation velma (several movies) - she leedol and she :3 but one point off for blue eyes 9/10 

stage fright intro velma - everything from this intro automatically gets full marks from me 10/10

first frights velma - this made me realize the models in this game are probably designed after the 2000s LA movies 6/10

daphne and velma books velma - i think this is the 2nd velma with swoop bangs instead of bowl bangs (the 1st being hayley kiyoko) and i don’t hate it. i also enjoy hoodie velma 10/10

xbox/ps2/gmod velma - i can only find this tiny image of her and the only thing this image conjures is the high pitched screaming from charborg’s solver squad series 10/10

lego velma - LEGO BOUCE LEGO BOUCE AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA 1000000000000000000000/10

lego blowout beach bash velma ft. fred because i forgot him in my fred ratings post - LEGO BOUCE LEGO BOUCE BUT THIS TIME SHES IN A LESBIAN HAWAIIAN SHIRT AND SHES WITH HER BEST FRIEND AND LESBIAN ALLY FRED WHO IS IN A TRANS HAWAIIAN SHIRT HYUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU 100000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000/10