#fun fact this may have been to the start of damn near every ship i have having at least one of them ace

[hiphopcherrrypop]

redesign of on old oc from 2017.... hoh... and wip redraw of them both

THROWSSS UP!!!

[chevelleneech]

See so i think jikook are close def that much i can say, but i dont think they are in a relationship or a serious one at that , i mean we are pretty sure that jk had teh thing with the women (which people for some reason dont agree with or say its a cosplayer , who has teh exact same hairstyle, floorplan, walls, dog, sofa and lights , mannerisms, apartment and very soon after that jk said that "saesangs are still here" , so i dont whats there to disprove over here for those relegious jikook people) and then jm has with the actress who posts his apartment pics, and all of this happened esp with jk at that period when they admitted they werent talking at all, and wouldnt have if they hadnt met, throughout ct it felt that jk was sort of anxious, bored, distracted more like it and felt was upset, all of this also points that maybe they had a fallout a major one perhaps, but now they are better bc hell they went to military together. But all of this factually also puts out that jk and jm are not dating, jk is having his fun, with prob diff people, relationships and same prob with jm. Tae was with jennie, and even rm had a long committed relationship until recently it seems from rpwp songs. so all of this people fighting over taekook vs jikook and how jk seems abusive is redundant , bc they arent in a relationship either of them. what are you thoughts about it.

You including the “Jungkook was anxious and irritated and upset” line tells me you’re a Tkkr trying to hide your hands, lol.

Jungkook may have been nervous at the start of their trip to Connecticut, because Jimin was too, as they both mentioned it’s the first time they’re hanging out after a bit of not seeing each other. But this attempt at highlighting JK only, and saying he seemed uninterested in whatever ways, has been the one thing Tkkrs clung to since the first episode, and it is baseless.

Jungkook is allowed to feel however he felt, but we also all watched the damn show. He was smiling and happy during every single episode thus far, and reiterated his joy many times over. He also said during the first episode that he wanted to keep traveling and filming with Jimin after enlistment. He wants to do it until they’re 50. Was he exaggerating? Most probably, and him being tired at some points was a given due to him being in the middle of promoting his solo work. Outside of that though, he was happy and willing to do the show.

Jungkook and Jimin traveled together because they chose to, because they wanted to. So whatever was going on behind the scenes between them, is something we will never know the full picture of. So if you don’t think they’re together, okay, but I don’t think you ever did, because I’m pretty sure you are a Tkkr anyway.

Regardless of what you ship though, smoke and mirrors are not good indicators that people are dating. Jimin and Jungkook flirt and put their mouths on one another. They choose each other over and over, so no matter the fact that there is a woman claiming to be or trying to insinuate she is Jimin’s girlfriend. Without him ever confirming that, she’s just a weirdo.

Not to mention, why would any of their actual partners post the way she does? If Park Jimin was my man, I do not need to vague post and try to show off bits and pieces of our lives to convince his fans of it. Never mind the fact that it’s his private life. So if they are together, unless Jimin is okay with her stirring shit up in the fandom and posting his house on IG… that’s not something a grown woman, who is famous adjacent herself, dating an incredibly famous person would do.

In comparison, Namjoon and his potential boyfriend situation is the near exact opposite of what that woman is or was doing. We have no idea who the man (or men) is in the pictures Namjoon himself posted. Maybe some people do, idk, but the point is, there is no way to determine who they are nor what they mean to Joon outside of fandom speculation. Yet the speculation makes sense and is believable, because Namjoon himself played into it. He wasn’t deterred by people questioning his sexuality nor relationship status, he posted a heart over a man’s face, and was posting all types of loves songs as he traveled with his family and a man. Yet when he seemingly had his heartbroken, he deleted all photos of the emoji covered man (or men), started talking shit about relationships, and posting sad queer music.

That, imo, is how I believe a relationship between any BTS member would go. Not the heartbreak, but a “quiet launch”. Tae and Jennie were even along similar lines. They unfortunately didn’t post their pictures themselves, but even in the middle of the drama, they kept seeing each other in public spaces. They just didn’t publicize their whereabouts.

So if two members of the group can seemingly date both famous and presumably non famous people, and take pictures and be seen out and about with them, why can’t Jimin? Why is his relationship shrouded in mystery, and only fueled by the woman claiming to live with him all the while he makes no move to imply there’s truth to the rumor?

If he and JK have absolutely nothing going on, why is he out here letting his girlfriend look goofy, all the while biting hickies on a man? While flirting with a man on live and asking him to get naked? While traveling with the same man, getting his ass slapped by him in bed? Enlisting in the military with said man, using a program that keeps them together the entire time?

So again, you don’t have to ship Jikook nor think anything of them, but if you’re going to pull in Taennie and Namjoon’s possible situation to use as examples of the members dating, keep it steady across the board. Jimin and Jungkook’s speculated relationships with women do not match up with Taennie nor Joon’s situation, yet Jikook does.

They travel, sight see, share meals, stay up late, take cute selfies, and cuddle up. So what makes Jikook less likely, aside from them being in the same group for a decade? Which only adds reason to why they may have had some communication issues or whatever, and needed time apart.

[early2000smovieimagines]

Meeting and Dating Riddick

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous)

(Okay so Vin Diesel was like really hot when he was young)

- Considering who Riddick is, you knew of the man far before you’d actually met him. Stories of him had been circling from planet to planet for the past decade or so, so yeah, he was pretty popular by the time you; just so happened to, board the same ship as him.

- Well, we all know how the story goes: you board the ship, it crashes, and you’re subsequently deserted on a planet with three suns alongside a missing murderous psychopath. Just a regular ol’ Saturday, ya know?

- Riddick likes you the minute he sees you, though he obviously doesn’t approach you; given his personality. And, like a normal person would, you try your best to keep some distance between you and the muscled murder man.

- You did so up until you wound up falling behind as everyone else walked; mainly because you weren’t exactly friendly with anyone there and were in no mood to be squashed between people in that heat. 

- At some point, the sand below your feet had slid and shifted on the incline that was there and you’d stumbled a bit, preparing yourself for the fall; onto your knees, which was going to happen.

- You hadn’t realized just how close to the dangerous man you’d ended up finding yourself so it was a bit of a shock when a hand gripped your arm, holding you up as though you weighed nothing at all.

“Thanks.” you’d somewhat whispered, a bit embarrassed and nervous. He didn’t say anything, though you were also interrupted by Johns approaching you both in a sort of warning towards the man. 

-There is IMMEDIATE sexual tension between the two of you and it only gets stronger the more time you spend together. He finds himself drawn to your side, his body itching to be clos to yours, his eyes locking on you whenever they can.  

- There’s an understanding between the two of you, an alliance of sorts, created as more time passes; something akin to a connection. So when you’re preparing to leave the planet and you make it to the ship after him, you’re offered the chance to join him. 

- Whether you’re “selfish” and flee without the others or if you go back in an attempt to save them is up to you; he doesn’t blame you either way. 

- Regardless, you find yourself in the ship with him, flying off and away from that eternal hell of a planet. And when you’re able to leave each other and he makes it known that you “could stay” with him, it doesn’t take you long to decide that you would. 

- The two of you kiss before your relationship is made official. You’d been on the run with him for about a month or so, both of you obviously attracted to each other and getting into highly suggestive scenarios though neither of you ever following through; mainly him. 

- You suppose that you could consider some of the times you’d been around each other as dates, though; at the time, they were more so “god I wish you knew how much I love you” and/or “I’m pretending that we’re on a date and every time I can’t just lean over and kiss you physically hurts me” types of hangouts. 

- But, he finally kissed you as the two of you were returning back to your ship after a trip into town; or wherever he’d decided that the two of you needed to go. You’d just finished pulling off your jacket or boots and you’d turned to find him nearly chest to chest; or chest to face, with you.

- You’d chuckled somewhat awkwardly, stumbling back and making a joke before your eyes met his and an intimate tension filled the air; one you hadn’t anticipated. He walked towards you, forcing you to walk backwards until you hit a wall in the cramped area. 

- The closer he came, the more you anticipated it and right as his face neared yours, you’d closed your eyes. He waited for a moment longer, staring at your face, contemplating his decision, and just as your eyes were about to open, he’d pressed his lips hard against yours. 

- Your hands fisted into his shirt and his own hands moved to both cage you in and pull you closer at the same time. After some time, he’d moved his hands low, grabbing at your thighs and ass before he picked you up.

- It’s up to you to decide just how far you want things to go. But regardless of your decision, you’re now going to have a pretty hard time getting rid of him. You’re his partner in crime from this point forward. 

- He tries his best to keep pda to a minimum since he’s got a reputation to keep up and because he doesn’t want you getting tangled up in his issues. When you’re alone he’s much more touchy and since you’re not in public very often, his dislike for pda isn’t much of an issue. 

- Though he isn’t affectionate with you in front of people, he is pretty much always close to your side whenever he can be. He likes being there in case there’s something he needs to protect you from. 

- Please hold his hand. He probably won’t do it himself but he secretly loves whenever you do. He likes how small and soft your hands are compared to his. 

- One armed hugs. He’s big and strong enough that it’s pretty much the same as a actual hug; though he does give you those on occasion as well. 

- Temple kisses. 

- His kisses are sort of rough, purely because he’s a rough person. If it were anyone else then they’d probably just be considered normal kisses but because he has strong lips and a domineering personality they’re on the rougher side. 

- Kisses between the two of you usually start out slow before becoming more heated. They’re the deep, drawn out types of kiss that end with an abrupt pull before the two of you snap back to each other once more. 

- Soft, barely there touches; whether with his hands or with his lips. They’re so soft that you’re sometimes not even sure if they touched you or not. 

- Sitting on his lap. 

- He likes leaning down, close to your side to talk to you, as well as seeing you lean up to speak in his ear/get close to his face yourself. 

- Considering the fact that you’re usually not staying in the most comfortable of places, you’ve taken to falling asleep with your head on some part of him. You usually start out just sleeping near each other but throughout the night, you’ll drift close and end up cuddling. It’s usually you who does so but on occasion, you’ll wake up to his arm around you and his body pressed up against yours. 

- He likes pinning you to things when he kisses you. 

- He’s sort of obsessed with your thighs and butt. He’s constantly grabbing or picking you up by them, usually to carry you off somewhere so that he can kiss you better.  

- He’s sort of like an animal in regards to how your scent drives him wild. There’s been so many instances of him drawing near you or burying his face in your neck that you can’t deny that he’s trying to smell you.

- Good girl, princess, sweetheart; he mainly uses them in a sarcastic way but it makes your heart race every time and he takes notice of that.

- Getting thrown over his shoulder whenever he pleases. Make a fuss and kick or hit his back all you want, he’s not letting you down until you’re away from whatever he wanted you to be away from; or just wherever he wanted to take you.

- He lets you do things, giving you the illusion of being in control while you’re both pretty much fully aware that he’s only letting you lead him places or letting you touch him. Don’t be fooled into thinking that you have the upper hand, he always knows exactly what you're doing. 

- Living in close quarters together. He in particular is always squeezing around you or using the excuse to press himself against you.  

- He secretly likes when you try to tease him or are otherwise soft with him. Trying to go up on your tippy toes to kiss him, leaning in close to his face as you speak, lingering touches; things like that. 

- He pretends like he doesn't know certain things to humor you. He notices everything so if you think you have a secret or are going to surprise him, you’re wrong; but he may pretend like he’s sort of surprised for your sake. 

- Getting your stuff stolen by him. 

- Getting a bit of a scare whenever he just pops up behind you. He sort of likes being able to scare you, he thinks your reactions are sort of cute. 

- Stargazing. You probably convinced him to do it though he mainly just stared at you like a big softie while you were distracted. 

- His only regret about changing his eyes is the fact that he can’t see you properly, and judging from what he’s able to see, its a damn shame. 

- Bonfires and camping out places.

- Hunting together. 

- Occasionally dropping into some far off planet, maybe going to a bar or him stealing from a liquor store so that the two of you can sit and drink together. 

- You're pretty much constantly hiding out or on the run, well, he is at least. You may have to go into town for the two of you on occasion; especially if it’s a town that he’ll be recognized in.

- Little, somewhat morbid gifts; though he does get you ones that aren’t on occasion, both made by him or stolen from somewhere. 

- Well, it’s a known fact that he can smell period blood so he’s always able to act accordingly and a bit sweeter than usual when it’s that time of the month. 

- Tracing and/or hearing the stories behind his scars. 

- Bandaging him up and him doing the same for you, trying his best to be as gentle as he can. 

- Getting taught how to fight or shoot. He likes hoisting you up from the ground by your clothes or pinning you down, showing you just how much stronger he is. It’s kind of his kink. 

- Getting taught survival tactics, card games, and so on. It’s a fun way to pass the time and a way to do it around each other.

- While he can certainly be rough, we all know that he can also be soft and caring; especially with you. 

- Teasing; whether its with ominous connotations or not. He may use his teasing to gauge whether or not he can trust you or to find out your true opinion on something. 

-  He only ever wants to help you. Everyone else can be damned but the minute you need something, he’s right there to assist you. 

- He pretends like he isn’t as worried as he really is by making his concerns sound threatening. Like after you put yourself in danger, he’ll make some comment like “you do something like that again and I’ll fucking kill you”. It’s the way he shows he cares; he isn’t used to giving a shit about anyone. 

- He’s one of those “you don't have to apologize for anything” types of boyfriends. He wants you to be unapologetic with people like he is.

- Lots of jealousy; he doesn’t particularly like you being around other men though he does trust you. It’s not about him thinking you’d cheat on him, its about the one person who truly cares about him and the only person he can trust being taken away from him or liking someone else more than him. 

- Somewhat overprotective. He doesn’t underestimate you but he does all that he can to prevent you being in any pain; emotional or physical. Whenever you mention a stupid, little fear of yours, he’s reminded of how vulnerable and precious you are and how much he has to keep you safe. 

- He’s blunt, aggressive, sarcastic, and somewhat demeaning so yes, there’s going to be quite a few fights in your relationship; though most aren’t ridiculously serious or completely relationship threatening. 

- After you’ve had a fight, he either doesn’t apologize and the two of you just move on or he watches you and let’s the guilt fester until he finally approaches you, putting his hand on your arm and kissing your temple. If you were outside of the ship, he’d pull you to your feet gently, giving you an earnest “I’m sorry, alright? C’mon” and guiding you back on board. 

- He doesn't say that he loves you very often but you do “get one” on occasion, usually grunted/grumbled out and passed off as being no big deal. 

- You’ll be his mate for life if he can help it. He wants to be with you for as long as he can, maybe start a family or just live out your lives alongside each other. 

[generallynerdy]

Uncalled they come to me, and told, they still won’t leave me (Din Djarin/Soulmate!Reader)

Spoilers for Chapter 9 (S2E1) of the Mandalorian

Summary: After the ambitious Toro Calican turns on you, his hired mechanic, in hopes of winning favour with the Guild, the mysterious Mandalorian saves your life. Now that you owe him a life debt, he’s stuck with you until you can save him back. It’s not so bad, having a free mechanic and babysitter for the kid, but things take a turn for the worse when both of you realise you might be catching feelings. For someone that might not even be your Soulmate.

Requested by Anon: Hello! How’re you doing? May I please request a Din x reader soulmate au? The one where you don’t see color until you touch your soulmate? It would be very difficult for Din to find his soulmate and I’ve always wanted to see how it played out. If not that’s ok! Thank you and have a wonderful day ❤️

Key: (Y/N) - your name, (h/c) - hair colour, (e/c) - eye colour Translations: vode - siblings, Ret’urcye mhi - goodbye (literally: may we meet again), mirshmure’cya - brain-kiss (Basic term, is Keldabe kiss. This is the soft one as opposed to the literal headbutt term) Asked to be tagged in this disaster: @pearlll09 Word Count: remember when i said this would be 4k? Yeah. It’s 6,478 words. What. The. Fuck.

Author’s Note: this is way longer than I intended it to be but I think u deserve it since u were the only one who saw my post begging for mando requests and actually sent one hksjlfdkj tysm!! I’m so happy I got to write a Soulmate AU for him tbh. Btw, I have it in my head that Yodito would’ve given him the ability to see green, as a familial Soulmate bond, but it wouldn’t work for this if your eyes are green so I just left it out. (Also wtf is up with the Cobb/Din shit, Cobb is clearly in a dedicated relationship with the bartender Weequay. I named them Sala :D) The title is from The Teller of Tales by Gabriela Mistral.

Read On AO3

*

“Do you wear those gloves all the time?”

The Mando gives you a look—one that you can’t read, obviously, but you get the idea that it’s drier than the desert you’re in.

Calican snorts, but you shoot him a glare and he shuts up. You’re only here because he’s paying well for your mechanical skills, enough that his request of an extra hand on his first bounty seemed reasonable. Finding out that he’s hunting Fennec Shand was...less than pleasing, but now that the Mando is onboard, you’re not quite so worried about the outcome. They’re supposed to be fearsome warriors, after all. And he was smart enough to figure out how to wait out Shand, which is what the three of you have been doing for hours.

“I’m just saying,” you continue, “between the armour and the gloves, it must be damn near impossible to find your Soulmate.”

He shrugs. Sort of. It’s kind of hard to tell, to be honest.

“Haven’t you heard the stories?” Calican asks, flopping back onto the sand. “Mandalorians don’t have Soulmates. They start seeing colour after their first battle; war is their only destiny.”

You roll your eyes. They’re folk tales, really, and ridiculous ones at that. Every sentient has at least one Soulmate, romantic, platonic, familial, or otherwise, and there’s no reason for Mandalorians to be any different. Still, the stories make their rounds. There are specific ones, too, like the one about the Mandalorian Jedi who made the Darksaber; he was said to see colour when he lit his weapon for the first time. Fett, too, was said to have seen a new colour with every clone that was decanted—which is mildly ridiculous.

“Maybe the Mandalorians of old,” Mando comments with a scoff. “Not many of us see battle these days.”

“Well, if you’re looking for it, I know a krayt dragon a few hundred klicks away,” you suggest lightly.

He snorts. “No thanks. I’ll take the assassin.”

“Speaking of,” you said, “you guys know I’m just a mechanic, right?”

There’s a pause. Calican nods, but the Mando is still.

“What?” he asks, displeasure in his voice.

“I mean, I’m pretty good with a blaster, but I’m gonna be useless against Fennec Shand.”

Mando whirls on Calican. “You paid a mechanic to be your back-up? Are you insane?”

He shrugs. “(Y/N) has a mean right hook.”

“That’s not reassuring,” Mando huffs. He looks over at you and you can almost feel him glaring through the visor. “Are you crazy?”

“I’m broke,” you scoff. “Same thing. Oh, hey, do you need repairs on that hunk of junk you pilot? I’ll be more thorough than that lady at the hangar.”

He hesitates. “We’ll see.”

You grin. That’s not a no.

*

“You’re a prick, did I mention that?” you hiss over your shoulder.

Calican shoves the blaster into your side. “Shut up and keep walking.”

The Mandalorian stands on the other side of the hangar, waiting for Calican to make his move. Seriously, this day could not be going any worse. After killing Shand, Toro Calican, certified dumbass, decided that kidnapping you and the Mandalorian’s—pet? Child?—passenger was the best way to go. Whatever the little weird thing that’s in your arms is, it’s pretty cute, and you’d rather he shoot you than the baby holding tightly onto your shirt. In fact, he probably will, because the kid is his ticket into the Guild—you’re just dead weight.

“Looks like I’m calling the shots now. Huh, partner?” Calican asks the Mando. “Drop your blaster and raise ‘em.”

The Mandalorian puts his hands behind his head. Next to you, Calican pushes Peli forward and instructs her to cuff him. With a huff, she moves behind the Mandalorian with the intent to follow orders.

“You’re a Guild traitor, Mando,” Calican begins. You consider sighing. This sounds like the start of a villain monologue. “And I’m willing to bet that this here is the target you helped escape. Fennec was right. Bringing you in won’t just make me a member of the Guild, it’ll make me legendary.”

In a burst of light, the Mandalorian sets off a flash grenade.

You yelp and tuck the little thing into your arms before tucking yourself over into a roll down the ramp of the ship. You fall into the sand just in front of the Mandalorian, who’s moved to fire a shot at Calican, sending him flying off the other side, smouldering.

Breathing heavily, you sit up, the child still in your arms.

“Are you okay? Is the child?”

You look up. The Mandalorian has his gloved hand held out, offering to help you up. Hesitantly, you take it and pull yourself off the ground.

“We’re both okay—I think,” you say hesitantly, holding the baby out to him. “Is he—?”

“Dead,” the Mando confirms, taking the child from you.

You frown. “Good riddance. Thank you,” you tell him hesitantly, though your tone is genuine.

“It’s nothing,” he murmurs.

He distracts himself by checking on the child, who coos up at him contentedly. You smile a little at the interaction, but put yourself back into focus.

“It’s not nothing,” you say firmly. “I owe you a life debt.”

He freezes. “What?”

“Where I come from, if someone saves your life, you owe it to them. Until I can save your life, I owe you,” you explain.

“That’s—you don’t need to do that,” he says quickly.

You cross your arms. “It’s like your Way. It’s my culture, my honour on the line. You’re stuck with me, Mando.”

“What? No. Can’t you...pay me, or something?”

“I’m broke, remember?”

“You saved the child’s life, doesn’t that count?”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “I rolled with him. You did the work, so, no, it doesn’t count, even though he’s your…” You hesitate, remembering the word. “...foundling.”

“You know, you’re kind of getting the better end of the deal here,” Peli pipes up, directing the thought at the Mandalorian. “A free mechanic, babysitter, and an extra blaster? That’s a bargain.”

“Uh...pre-warning, I don’t know much about child care,” you warn immediately.

He snorts. “Neither do I.” After a moment, he sighs deeply. “Fine. But we’re going to work on those blaster skills before you become a liability.”

“Fair enough.”

*

Sticking with the Mandalorian is probably the worst decision of your life.

Almost immediately after Tatooine, in need of more funds, he drags you into trouble with another group of bounty hunters and the New Republic, of all groups.

“Who is this?” someone asks, her voice sing-song as she enters the Mandalorian’s ship.

You don’t bother turning around, continuing your repairs on a hull panel. “The mechanic. Don’t touch anything.”

“You have a personal mechanic?”

A few people enter the ship, making you finally turn around. The first speaker is a Twi’lek woman and the second a Human, who squints disdainfully. From behind him, Mando pushes past their little crew—including a protocol droid and a massive Devaronian—to approach you, deciding to stand next to you rather than them, which brings you immense pleasure for some reason.

“No. (Y/N) owes me a life debt and, apparently, credits don’t cut it,” he explains shortly, sounding frustrated and exhausted.

You nudge him companionably—it’s an argument you’ve had a few times, the paying of your debt. He doesn’t want to be free of you, per se, but he doesn’t want you to be in his debt. Having that kind of power or hold over you makes him uncomfortable, you can tell, as every time it comes up he gets twitchy.

“Kinky,” the Twi’lek snickers.

You grimace. That would explain why Mando sounds like he wants to die. “Fun group. What’s the job?”

“One of theirs got caught. We’re getting him out,” he says. “And we’re using our ship.”

Our ship. Maybe it’s a slip of the tongue or maybe he’s making it clear that you’re with him, but either way, it brings a smirk to your face. The Twi’lek looks disgusted.

“Well, at least my hard work won’t be going to waste,” you huff.

“Mando,” the Twi’lek interrupts, “you haven’t introduced us.”

You can feel him rolling his eyes. “(Y/N), meet Mayfeld, Burg, Xi’an. Mayfeld is running point, the droid is flying, and the target is a New Republic transport ship.”

“Ugh. You guys better be good; I’m not getting arrested.”

“Mayfeld’s former Imperial,” Mando says before any of them can answer.

You scoff. “A stormtrooper? My shitty blaster skills would be better than his.”

“I wasn’t a stormtrooper,” Mayfeld spits, annoyed enough that he must’ve said it once already. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

All but the droid stay, scattered around the hull. Mando follows soon after the jump to hyperspace, having hovered over the droid while it set their course. He stops Burg from getting into the weapons cache right after he hops down the ladder and the two look like they want to kill each other.

“Someone tell me why we even need a Mandalorian,” the Devaronian grunts.

Mayfeld huffs. “Well, apparently, they’re the greatest warriors in the galaxy. So they say.”

“Then why are they all dead?”

They all laugh at that—Xi’an with a particularly nasal one, which is irritating beyond belief. You frown deeply, but try not to show how pissed their laughter makes you. That sort of shit isn’t to be made fun of; a dying race. It’s all too familiar these days, what with the death of Alderaan and the crater on Scarif.

When you come back into focus, Xi’an is talking in low tones.

“See, I know who you really are,” she says to the Mando.

You roll your eyes. Unlikely.

(Something in your brain goes: I do, which is stupid. You don’t know who he is, under that helmet, sure, but you’ve seen a lot of him through his actions. He’s reckless, terrifying, and a badass, but he’s also patient and...kind, in his own way. The way he treats the child is like nothing you’ve seen in another bounty hunter. It’s gentle, caring. The kid has really grown on him, you think. And the way he treats you is just straight up polite, even though you’re practically his servant in terms of a life debt. Still, he treats you like a person and doesn’t ask you to do unreasonable favours just because he saved your life. He doesn’t hold it over your head.)

And then they start goading him about the helmet.

Burg actually goes for it, which Mando beats him back for. You jump forward, but just as you do, the door to the sleeping cot flies open, revealing the child.

Instead, you rush to the child, pulling him into your arms.

“What is that?” Mayfeld asks, approaching.

“Back off,” you hiss.

He looks between you and Mando. “Wait, did you two make that?” When you scoff, he frowns. “What is it, like a pet or somethin’?”

“Yeah. Something like that,” Mando says quickly.

Xi’an frowns. “Didn’t take you for the type. Maybe that code of yours has made you soft.”

You snort. Soft. That isn’t a word you’d use to describe him, ever. You haven’t seen very much action since Tatooine, but you saw enough there.

Mayfeld reaches for the child and, without hesitation, you lift your blaster. The way he’s looking at the little guy makes you uneasy.

“Fuck off,” you warn instantly.

“Aw, c’mon, I just wanna hold him,” he teases.

Over the comms, the droid’s voice echoes. “Dropping out of hyperspace. Now.”

The entire ship shudders and shakes, sending everyone flying off their feet. You happen to ram into beskar, your face slamming into the metal, which makes you yelp. The baby wails in your arms as gravity makes to tug you away again. Before it can, Mando grabs your arms and holds you in place against him until the ship is steady once more.

“You okay?” he asks, helping you to your feet—again, you think miserably.

“Ugh, no,” you groan, putting a hand on the left side of your face. “That’s gonna bruise.”

Mando takes the child from you. “Sorry. We’ll deal with it after.”

You wave him off. “I’ve had worse. You worry about the job, I’ll watch the kid,” you say, taking the child back. You can’t help but smile when he coos happily.

“Right,” Mando mutters. For a moment, he watches you both, considering.

“Mando!” calls Mayfeld. “Let’s go!”

Before he goes, he puts a hand on your shoulder. “Be careful. I have a bad feeling about this.” You nod, which seems to appease him, and watch him leave.

Petting the child’s floppy ears, you wonder if he meant that to be as comforting as it was.

*

I should’ve known, Din thinks when Qin walks out of that cell.

I definitely should’ve known, he decides, returning to the Razor Crest to find a sparking droid corpse and a shaking child in your arms.

He tosses the cuffed Twi’lek to the side and rushes to yours, stepping over Zero’s limp form. You look relatively unfazed, for someone who’s just ripped a droid’s head off with their bare hands, but the child is rather distressed. The kid squeaks at the sight of Din and, much to his surprise, lifts your hand to show him.

It’s bleeding.

“What did you do?” Din questions, crossing the hull for his medical kit.

“I...may have tried to punch the droid,” you admit hesitantly. “It didn’t work.”

He scoffs, returning to kneel in front of you with bacta patches in his hands. “No karking shit.”

Your face falls as he reaches for your hand, pulling it toward him so he can patch it up. “It was gonna hurt the kid.”

“You did good,” he murmurs. “Stupid, but good.”

It never occurred to him that you might save the child again. You’re here out of necessity, after all, because you owe him, because your honour depends on paying that debt. The child is just another being in the vicinity, but you still saved him. Again. You’re either very stupid or very kind and he can’t decide which one is more concerning.

“Maybe you should teach me a bit of hand to hand, too,” you suggest warmly, wincing at the bacta’s sting.

Din makes a noise that’s sort of a laugh. “I’ll add it to the list.”

He moves to put bacta on the bruise his beskar gave you—He feels ridiculously guilty for that; here you are, paying off a life debt to him, and he still manages to hurt you—but with a hand, you stop him.

“Don’t waste it,” you say immediately. “I’ve had worse bruises, seriously.”

He frowns. “It’s not a waste.” Before you can protest, he puts the patch on top of the bruise.

You huff. “You’re a worrier, aren’t you, Mando?”

“Apparently,” he replies dryly. He hadn’t realised it, either.

“Will you stop flirting and get us out of here!?” Qin shouts from the other side of the hull. “The New Republic will be on our asses!”

You roll your eyes. “I hate to say it, but he has a point. Where are the others?”

“Dealt with,” he says simply. “It was a double-cross.”

“Well, I figured,” you shoot back with a knowing look. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

The drop is easy enough, especially since Din knows that New Republic signal is beeping steadily from Qin’s pocket. He escapes quickly, dipping back into the Razor Crest, where you wait at the top of the ramp, the child hanging onto your boot.

“Let’s go,” he declares, the ramp shutting behind him as he enters.

“Already?” you question with a raised eyebrow. “There are a few repairs I could make out of hyperspace that might be useful.”

He waves you toward the cockpit. “Later. We need to leave.”

“Oookay.” You frown but do as he says, plucking the child from off your foot. “C’mon, little guy,” you mutter to him.

Din waves away all your questions as he starts the take-off. Finally, when the Razor Crest is a safe distance away from the space station and X-Wings appear out of hyperspace, he glances back at you.

“Holy shit!” you cry as they open fire. You look back at him with a slack jaw, which makes him smile underneath the helmet. “That was you, wasn’t it?”

He shrugs half-heartedly, but it’s enough of an answer.

“You’re a maniac, Mando,” you laugh, watching the scene through the transparisteel.

Din thinks over it, staring at you for a long moment. There’s light in your eyes—maybe it’s the reflection of the explosion, but it’s captivating.

“Din,” he says.

You look over. “Hm?”

He clears his throat, trying to shove aside nerves. “My name. It’s Din.”

“Oh. Oh,” you repeat, eyes wide. Then, you smile, more genuine than he’s ever seen from you, he thinks. “You’re crazy, Din. You know that, right?”

He laughs—and that’s the first time you’ve heard a proper one from him. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

*

When Din drops a pair of gloves in front of you, you laugh.

“You’re telling me the gloves are out of convenience?” you ask him disbelievingly.

“The more skin you cover, the less likely you are to get cut up by a vibroblade,” he replies dryly. “Put them on.”

You raise your hands in surrender and take them, slipping them over your fingers. “Surprisingly comfy.”

It occurs to you that this is...sort of a big deal. You’ve kept your hands bare for as long as you can remember, mostly because you’re a romantic and finding your Soulmate has been at the forefront of your mind for a long time. But now, you think, it’s not such a big deal. You have a debt to pay and, besides that, you’re pretty happy with how things are now.

Life isn’t exactly nice with Din and the kid, so to say, but you’re content. You love the child and he adores you. The Razor Crest feels more like home than any planet ever has. And Din is...well, he’s something. Being around him is mildly addicting and whenever he’s gone, something feels incomplete.

“Better?” you ask, lifting your gloved hands.

“Much,” he says. Then, he holds out his own hand. “C’mon, up.”

You take the hand without thought, but before you know it, he’s swinging you around and shoving you to the ground.

“Ow!” you cry. “What the hell, Din?”

He huffs. “Lesson 1: Never take anything for granted.”

“Rude.” You hit his arm meaningfully, but he just rolls his eyes; just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean you can’t tell it’s happening.

“You’ll thank me someday.”

“But not today.”

“Nope. Today, you’re gonna hate my guts.”

*

He’s dying.

It feels unreal, what with everything you’ve watched him survive so far. A newbie bounty hunter, a group of pissed off bounty hunters, lots of bounty hunters, and the New Republic but a group of stormtroopers is what gets him?

Moff Gideon is what really gets him, though. The bastard that helped destroy his people is going to destroy Din Djarin. Hearing him speak Din’s name makes you nauseous, furious, even. He gave you that name in confidence, trusted it to you, the only one of his handful of friends to even use it, and Gideon decides to declare it to Nevaroo in its entirety. It makes your blood boil, enough that you get out of the initial firefight mostly unscathed.

But Din doesn’t. And now he’s dying in your arms and you feel like you failed.

“Go with them,” he tells you, all croaky and half-assed.

“No. No, I’m not leaving you here,” you declare, carefully leaning him against the rubble.

Flames flicker all around the room and the child is crying. It’s not loud or consistent, but it’s enough to break your heart.

“You have to go,” Din says again. “You’ll die.”

You laugh ruefully. “That’s kind of the point. A life debt means I save your life or I die trying.”

A pause.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he hisses through the pain.

“Afraid not, dumbass. You’re stuck with me, remember?”

He grasps your arm, his hands still gloved. If you’re going to die here, maybe you should ask him to take off the gloves. A part of you has wondered…

“C’mon, tell me it’s transferable—some ‘dying wish’ shit like that.”

You nod, though the action sinks uncomfortably into your chest. Leaving him here...that doesn’t sit well with you. But if he asks, then you’ll do it. “Yeah, you name it, but it’d better be a big one, something equivalent.”

The breath he lets out is one of relief. “Take care of the kid. Go find his people and return him to them. Protect him.”

“With my dying breath,” you swear, the words holding an air of ceremony.

Din grasps your arm tighter and pulls you down, your forehead meeting his helmet. You’re not sure what it means, but it must mean something because he mutters words in his own language, which you’ve never heard him do before.

“Ret’urcye mhi.”

May we meet again.

Din does what little he can in saying goodbye to you, as deeply as that cuts. You’ve grown on him, a little too much maybe, and it kills him to think that you’ll be without him now. You still can’t hit a headshot, he realises, suddenly worried for how you’ll fare.

And so he gives you what he can: a Keldabe kiss and a goodbye, instead of the action he wants to take. He wants to take off his gloves and see if he can figure out the colour of your eyes. On the other hand, though, he doesn’t want to leave you with that, of all things, to leave you seeing the red of his blood and the blue-tinged orange of the flames before any other colours.

You take the child in your arms and, with one last glance at Din, leave the room for the covert’s tunnels underground.

The child whimpers up at you.

You look down, sniffling, and pet his ears gently. “I know, little one. I’m so sorry.” You place a gentle kiss to his forehead.

Cara appears, tugging on your wrist. “C’mon,” she says gently. “We need to get out of here.”

It occurs to you, as the three of you and Greef move on, that Cara might help you with the child. For Din, obviously. She’s a good person and, frankly, she and Din seem pretty friendly. The second she saw you, she’d offered her bare hand and bemoaned the fact that her vision was still black and white, much to your amusement. It was all in good fun, but Din had looked a little uncomfortable, for reasons you didn’t know.

“(Y/N),” Cara says quietly, calling your attention back.

You shake yourself from your thoughts. “Sorry.”

She smiles sadly. “It’s okay. Just keep up.”

The small group turns a few corners before footsteps sound from behind. You immediately place the child in the bag hanging from Cara’s shoulder and draw your blaster, watching her and Greef do the same.

From the distant hall, two figures approach: IG-11 and—

“Din!” you half-cry, half-breathe out. Holstering your blaster, you meet them halfway to take more of Din’s weight from IG. “How—?”

“No living thing can see me without my helmet. IG isn’t alive,” Din says dryly.

You laugh, a partly manic sound. “Thank kark. You’re not getting out of this that easy.”

The noise he makes is both amused and resigned. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Where’s the—?”

“He’s with Cara,” you say, finishing the thought before even he can, in his groggy state.

It’s safe to say that when the Armourer gives him his sigil, Din almost considers correcting the Clan of two to a Clan of three. He doesn’t, reminding himself that you’re here because of a debt and nothing else, but the thought is there.

*

The months after Nevarro are more peaceful than the first week of your time with Din. 

You finally get to pull a proper sleeping space together for yourself. Well, it’s a hammock in the hull, but it’s better than the seats in the cockpit. The child gets his own hammock, too, though it’s in the cot space with Din. He loves it, so much so that he squeals when he sees it. That’s your proudest moment, for sure.

Most days, you tend to forget that you still owe a life debt. To be honest, it just feels like the three of you are normal. Din takes bounties, you take short mechanic jobs on different planets, and the two of you trade off on child-duty. It’s pretty regular, more than what your life used to be, anyway.

Din is still training you in hand-to-hand and blasters, of course. You’re getting better with the latter, but the first is difficult. On the way to Tatooine, where there’s supposedly another Mandalorian, he decides to have another training session.

“Fists higher, do it again.”

Huffing, you wipe your wrist across your sweaty forehead. It’s easy enough to obey the order—the first part, anyway. Getting into his guard is difficult, though.

One hit, two blocks—there. You slip under his guard and make an abrupt drop to the ground, sweeping his legs out under him with a fierce movement. He goes down in a tumble of beskar, joining you on the floor. As soon as he’s down, you flip over and straddle his hips, an arm over his neck in false threat.

He barks out a laugh. “Much better.”

“I’m not entirely hopeless!” you declare joyfully before bursting into snickers.

Leaning down, you thunk your forehead against his helmet. The gesture is fond, you’ve learned, something shared between close companions��or at least you think. Din told you that it’s called a mirshmure’cya in Mando’a, that it doesn’t have an equivalent word in Basic.

(Which is technically true. Literally, it means brain-kiss, but the outsider term for it is Keldabe kiss. It can be used for close companions—vode in arms, family—but it’s also used for romantic partners, so he’s mildly horrified at the idea of explaining its cultural significance to you and having to face his feelings for someone that may or may not be his Soulmate. He hasn’t gotten up the courage to ask if he can check. Or try to do it discreetly.)

A distant beeping starts up, coming from the cockpit. It’s the approach warning, which means the training session is over.

“I’ll get the kid,” you say, climbing off Din and offering a hand.

He takes it without hesitation, dragging himself up and making a beeline for the cockpit.

Tatooine is about what you remember. That is, it’s dry, sandy, and the worst planet you’ve ever been on. Stepping out of the ship and into the hangar makes you smile, though, at the not-so-distant memory of Din saving your life. It hasn’t been that long, but it feels like it’s been years.

“Oh, hey!” says Peli, after greeting the child—which is fair, he’s adorable. “You’re still with him! Haven’t repaid that debt yet, huh?”

Your face falls. “Uh, no, not really.”

On the way to Mos Pelgo, your thoughts linger on the life debt. One of these days, you’re going to save Din’s life—then where will you be? Will he want you to leave? What will you do if you have to leave? Your old life was nowhere near as interesting as this, nor did you have anyone close to what Din and the child are to you.

The dreary grey slopes of sand only make it easier to think of the worst possible outcomes. Now you remember why you hated Tatooine so much.

You don’t even realise the speeder is approaching the small town until Din taps your arm, which is wrapped around his waist. Jumping at the touch, you loosen your grip sheepishly and glance at the child, who looks like he’s enjoying himself immensely.

After the speeder comes to a stop, you take the kid while Din enters the cantina.

When you enter yourself, you find that he’s about to shoot someone, while the Weequay behind the bar looks rather distressed.

“Perfect timing, as always,” Din remarks without a glance.

You raise your free hand. “You’re the bad luck charm, I’m just here for the ride,” you retort teasingly.

“You brought a kid to a gunfight?” his opponent asks, raising an eyebrow.

Finally, you glance over at him and see why Din looks ready to kill him. He’s in Mandalorian armour but his helmet is off—clearly, he’s not Mandalorian. “You’re wearing beskar and you’re not a Mandalorian, buddy. I think you’re in more trouble than the kid is.”

“He is,” Din gets out, a twinge of viciousness in his voice.

Before they can even reach for their blasters, though, the ground starts to shake.

You grab onto the doorway for support, eyes wide as you grip the child. Din and the Mandalorian poser move toward the door, joining you and staring out at the street outside.

The entire planet feels like it rumbles and chaos reigns outside.

Something is moving the sand—coming toward the town.

“Holy fuck,” you whisper as it goes by, shifting the sand like it’s an ocean rather than earth. It flies out of the ground, sharp teeth the only thing you see as it consumes a bantha whole.

When it’s gone, the poser huffs. “Maybe we can work something out.” He turns to you, offering a hand, which is covered by fingerless gloves. “Cobb Vanth. I’m the Marshal here.”

You take it hesitantly, glad that things are still black and white when you make contact. “(Y/N).”

He notices your hesitation and chuckles. “The Weequay in there is Sala, my Soulmate. I’ll see if they can’t whip up something for the kid; I’m sure he’s starving.”

“Very,” you say, just before he goes to leave.

When it’s just you and Din, you look over at your companion. “Krayt dragon, huh?”

“Yep,” he sighs, already sounding tired.

You laugh. “I know I said I could bring you to one when we met, but I was totally kidding.”

He looks over at you and you can feel the low-level glare behind the visor, but it only makes you snicker. “I hate you.”

“You’re so full of shit,” you retort immediately.

*

You finally get to repay your debt.

It’s not what you’re thinking about when you shove Din out of the way of the krayt’s projectile venom, but it’s repaid nonetheless.

Din doesn’t think of it immediately, either, as he’s rather more concerned with the fact that you’re sent flying across the desert into a pile of debris and sharp rocks.

“(Y/N)!”

Before he can run to you, Cobb grabs his arm. “The dragon!”

To be honest, killing the dragon feels like a bonus when he pulls himself together and figures out a plan. When the great beast explodes, the Tuskens and the villagers cheer, but Din races back to the place he saw you last. He pushes aside the remains of one of those massive weapons they built to find you, laying on the ground. For a moment, panic clutches his heart, but then you groan.

“Am I dead?” you ask.

Din lets out a breath, hardly managing it, as he kneels next to you. “Dumbass.”

“Because it feels like I’m dead.”

“Dumbass,” he repeats, ripping your shirt away to find a deep cut in your side, just above your hip. “Of all the ways to pay your debt—”

You sit up, wincing. “Oh,” you say, as if you hadn’t realised it, “I guess I did that, too.”

Din’s heart is still beating a million klicks a second at how close you were to being dead, but for a second, it flips, realising that you hadn’t saved him just to pay the debt. And then, as he’s helping you off the ground and bringing you toward the others, who have bacta patches ready, his heart sinks.

Your debt is paid. You don’t have any reason to stay with him and the kid. As soon as you get back to the city, he’s going to have to watch you leave.

Shit. He didn’t think this through.

Meanwhile, you’re on the same train of thought. Does he really think you saved him for the debt? Does he want you gone that bad? It makes sense. You’re a pain in the ass, with all the training you need. But...well, you thought he might’ve—

“I’ve changed my mind,” you declare.

Din, terrified, attempts to sound neutral. “About?”

“The worst job we’ve ever taken. This is definitely it,” you huff as he helps you down onto a smoother boulder, taking patches from a Tusken.

He goes to use them, but you raise a hand.

“If you even think about getting near my wound with those nasty gloves, I’m going to skin you,” you threaten.

Frankly, Din is too shaken to even laugh. The silence lays there, stilted, as he removes his gloves and sits somewhat behind you, on another close stone. You’ve taken yours off, too, seeing as one is ripped all the way through.

He’s careful with the bacta patch and his bare hands, making sure not to touch your skin.

Now, of all moments, would be the worst time to find out that you really don’t have a reason to stay.

While he works, he thinks, briefly, that he should say something. “(Y/N),” he starts to say. “I—”

But that happens to be the moment he’s putting the bacta patch on. You suck in a sharp breath through your teeth, wincing. Your hand flies out, reaching for something to ground you. Of course, because something out there has it out for you, you grab his hand, forgetting that his gloves are, for once in his life, not there.

You realise, ridiculously, that his hand is warm.

And then the world around you explodes into colour.

The faded yellow of the surrounding desert is overwhelming with how it burns into your eyes alongside the brilliant blue of the sky. The surrounding Tuskens are in browns and greys, simple things, but so, so beautiful to your new sight. You breathe out, a shaky action.

Behind you, Din comes to see the same, but his gaze is stuck on the back of your head—the (h/c) of your hair and how the light catches in it, despite it being a complete mess.

You barely have the breath to gasp, but you do, whirling around to face him.

His beskar is beyond what you’d pictured: a shining, sparkling silver that could stand out on a star. No wonder rooms fall silent at the sight of him.

Din has the same thought about your eyes. On death’s door, all he’d wanted was to know what colour they are and now he knows, but it feels so useless now. He doesn’t even know what to call them. Sure, (e/c) would work, however weakly. You are...something else. You always have been, but now it’s like he can see it, the beauty of who you are so plainly painted into your features.

Din doesn’t even have the time to be afraid of your reaction before the words are slipping out. “I don’t want you to go.”

You just stare at him for a long moment, words processing.

It...kind of freaks him out.

He jumps when you fling yourself at him, arms wrapped around his shoulders in the tightest hug he’s ever gotten. Immediately, he responds, clutching the back of your shirt like it’ll save his life.

“Thank the Force,” you breathe out, just beside where his ear is under the helmet. “I don’t wanna leave.”

Din lets out a breath of relief and tugs you closer so you’re practically sitting on his lap. It can’t be comfortable, but you don’t seem to mind. When you do finally pull away, it’s to press your forehead against his helmet. It sends a swell of affection through him again, your constant Keldabe kisses. He taught you something important to his culture, to him, and here you are, using it without thought.

“Is it too late to tell you that this is the Mandalorian equivalent of a kiss?” he murmurs, more than a little embarrassed.

You laugh softly, arms reaching to rest around his neck. “And I thought you were so cool.”

“I just blew up a krayt dragon,” he argues.

“Oh, you’re plenty badass, Din,” you tease back, “just...not smooth.”

He huffs. “I’m gonna kick your ass next training session.”

A grin comes over your face and, for a second, he can’t comprehend why that would make you smile—until he realises that he just promised a next time. You’d genuinely believed he wanted you gone and Din thought you wanted to leave, but neither of you were right. 

A whine from below catches both your attention.

The child reaches up from the ground, making grabby hands.

You laugh, a noise Din echoes quietly, and pluck him from the ground, holding him in your careful hands. “Hey, buddy. Feeling left out?”

He squeaks a confirmation, his little hands—green hands, you realise, deeply amused—reaching for Din’s helmet. Once he has a comfortable hand, he bashes his head against the helmet.

Din yelps, not out of pain, but concern, grabbing for the kid, who wobbles dizzily.

“Oh, shit—” Din says.

“Woah, woah,” you get out between wheezing laughs. “Don’t do that! His head is much harder than yours.”

The kid makes a weak huff and curls against Din’s chest stubbornly.

“I think that was an attempted kiss,” you suggest to Din.

Underneath his helmet, he grins. Petting the child’s head with a gentle finger, he looks back up at you. “It was cute.”

“Very,” you agree.

Without prompting, Din reaches for your hand again, a little hesitant. You take his gladly, running your thumb across his knuckles, which makes him shiver.

“Clan of three,” he whispers.

You lift your gaze. “Hm?”

“The Armourer, she said, ‘Clan of two’ when she gave me my sigil,” he explains. “I wanted to correct her then.”

The smile on your face is beyond words. “Clan of three has a ring to it. You’re stuck with me for good now, Din Djarin.”

He snorts and raises your hand to his helmet, touching it briefly to the metal in lieu of kissing it.

Tatooine might be the worst place in the universe, Din thinks that it doesn’t matter so much where he is. Sitting here, with you and the kid, he thinks that this might be home.

*

River’s Tags: @hahaboop & @mystoragehatesme

Masterlist

[dangermousie]

Web novel reading updates

So, here is everything I am reading atm and what I think about it. As always, I am reading a billion things at once. The ones that are not danmei are marked with an asterisk.

*Chang’an’s First Beauty - I caught up with all the translated chapters and was kind of relieved there were no more because it’s an excellent novel and on point about misogynism but because of that it’s a hard read. I basically keep wanting to murder ML with a rusty nail and for heroine to become a wealthy widow.

*Ever Night - chapter I am too lazy too look up out of a 1000+ (!!!) I love it but it makes 2ha seem like a short story. I keep enjoying it when I read but it’s not a novel I can binge what with all the philosophical discussions. I mean I like them but I am here for Ning Que x Sang Sang and the kinky sex, not to think about the nature of the Universe. (OK, I am kidding, I love that part but I will probably still be reading this novel in 2030.)

Every Day the Protagonist Wants to Capture Me - I am on ch 40something? 50something? It’s an inferior version of SVSSS which doesn’t mean it’s bad (SVSSS is amazing after all) but I am enjoying it without being addicted. It’s kinda too fluffy for me and nowhere near sharply enough written for me to overlook that.

How to Survive as a Villain - I am on chapter 203 (the novel is being translated three chapters per week and I’ve caught up with all of them. There are only seven chapters left of the main novel.) I thought it would go into my top 10 in the beginning. It won’t but it’s still a great read and my annoyance at ML at one point in the story has dissipated and I am back to loving him. It’s the MC who makes the novel for me. If Xie Lian was a human, that’s who’d be.

I’ve Led the Villain Astray How Do I Fix It - I liked it but the new translation is hard to parse through and between that, the sheer length and the fact that a lot of it cultivation stuff, I am putting it aside. If there was a good translation which I could skim when it got to cultivation bits, I’d def finish but as is...

Mistakenly Saving the Villain - I am on chapter 59 (the novel is being translated four chapters per week and I’ve caught up with all of them.) I love this one enough to start making a MTL despite the insane translation speed (though I’ve stopped now since I decided to wait and read other things.) If you like fantasy settings but a story that deals with long-term damage and healing and trauma, this one is for you. It’s so hopeful and lovely despite a trigger warnings list the length of my arm. And the OTP is the source of all that hope and healing.

Nan Chan - I am on chapter 49 (the whole novel is translated) and I really really love the gorgeous writing style and the amazing translation (it’s by the author of the masterpiece that is Qiang Jin Jiu and shows; the two novels have little in common in terms of plot, genre, themes etc but the gorgeous intensity is the same.) It’s also the most ALIEN novel I’ve read in a long time - the two main characters are a demonic carp who gained sentience and human form and deity whose true form is a sword. They are not human and they do come across as very much other, not just humans with long life spans/magic powers. I love that. Because of that, and the fact that this is a novel who looked at TGCF and thought it was not picaresque, episodic and sprawling enough, this may not be everyone’s cup of tea but it’s very much mine.

Qiang Jin Jiu - caught up with all translated chapters (138.) This is a bona fide masterpiece and will likely end up in my top 3. So smart and intense and perfect. I keep telling myself to hoard the chapters and binge since the impact will be greater, but I do not have the willpower in the least since it’s so damn good.

*Rebirth of the Tyrant’s Pet - this novel is so long I will be still reading it when I am dandling my great grandchildren on my knee, but what gonzo delicious fun. Borgias Goes China is a delight and I ship our heroine with both of her unbrothers, tbh (though ML more since he’s more psycho.) I don’t normally enjoy het web novels as much as danmei but this is a rare exception.

To Rule In a Turbulent World - (I am on ch 62 which is where the translation is atm.) Still utterly solid and with complicated characters and complicated world. Also, I don’t care, Team Zhao Chao Was Right.

The Villain Is Outrageously Beautiful - yup, the tentacle sex one. I like it even though it’s def the most out there web novel I’ve ever read, but it’s slow going since the human translation has been abandoned and I’ve been making MTL and it’s slow reading since its plot and cast are confusing enough in human translation and with MTL requires more brain power than I often possess.

The Wife is First - whatever chapter the translation is on. I still like everything about it (except the way most women characters are but oh well) and it’s still a pleasant read that doesn’t make me rabid but makes my mood so sunny.

Wu Chang Jie - someone mentioned some of it made them think of 2ha and so I had to try! I am on chapter 5 and I am super duper obsessed with it though not really seeing the 2ha thing yet. The author mentioned their love of dog blood angst in the prologue notes and OH BABY YEAH!!!!

[shinebrightlikeanarwhal]

Random SF ideas

It has a lot of Travis ships because that's my feral lil bby. I'm having fun keeping him from bullying people by bullying him instead lol

Every time he enters school Sal mutters “anything can happen in the Bronx”. Todd is the only one that doesn’t understand.

Travis is emotionally constipated and will take it out on others, but later do small things as his form of apologizing. Philip and his mother are the only people that understand him and understand why. Sal thinks he may be bipolar and Larry has probably called him the r-slur under his breath. (Stinky boy probably would say it openly if not for Sal's disdain for that word).

Maple and Travis bonding over jewelry and make up. Travis won’t admit it to anyone but her but he likes the way Maple accessorizes. Obligatory Chug appreciation to keep on her good side, later forms a healthy and wholesome friendship.

Travis and Larry fight verbally. It doesn’t get physical unless Larry loses control and shoved Travis. This prompting a snarky reminder that Larry is no better than Travis’ own father. They cuddle and fall asleep later tho, after Sal puts them in their get along corner.

Nicknames. Travis’ weakness is nicknames. Lisa discovers this and shows Larry and Sal who abuse this power. Travis’ tan cheeks are bright red anytime he’s out public with them because of their stupidly sweet nicknames. Their go to for reactions are baby(boy), sweetheart and bottom

Shameless PDA when Sal is jealous. Travis learns the hard way how easy it is to make him jealous when a hand is in his waist and holding him close to the shorter. Fingers tracing any exposed skin to keep Travis focused on him. Sorry Lar, you took up too much Travis time..

Travis’ mom being an absolute babe. Apple if her eye is her sweet boy. Probably passed while he was young and had to watch him grow in that unhealthy environment.. maybe reaches out to Sal for help since he’s more intuitive. Def terrifies Larry a couple times as a prank. He hit her son, bully or not, it just felt right to braid his hair to his bed post a couple times and paint his nasty thoughts on his chest.

Travis hates surprises and loud noises because of his father. They don’t learn that until they throw a surprise birthday party with cheering and loud pops of confetti balloons, his panic attack damn near gave him a heart attack. (He refused to accept apologies for something they didn’t know. Instead demanding they spoil him for the rest of the week as compensation for his hospital trip on his birthday)

I said it once, and I’ll say it again. Service. Animals. Mr. Phelps legally obligated to give him a service animal and Travis is somewhat saved from Kenneth's abuse. Taking more time outside for walks (the dog can’t bare letting Travis stay in the house for long with his father home). He genuinely bonds with other students over his new dog (the dog allowing contact when not in uniform but if Travis’ needs are present will attach itself to Travis’ hip.

Religious trauma and coping. Because PLS, can we please address the amount of abuse because of the Bible?? That boy may stay and follow the proper words of his lord. Or he could detach himself from the church entirely (especially because of the cult!)

Travis ships: Salvis and Larvis

Asked out: Oh. Oh no. How did they fall for Travis?!? What did they do to find that feral little kitten so cute?? Was it they dyed hair? The dresses when he shows off more legs than they anticipated? Him apologizing and changing for the better?? What happened to him to make him so interesting!? Sal absolutely starts approaching Travis cautiously. Taken aback when he's greeted with a warm smile and compliments. They start to grow as friends and spend time together often. Sharing eachother with their friend groups and on their own. It takes a couple of years before Sal nervously asks Travis if he would be interested in getting closer. Travis doesn't understand and Sal just awkwardly blurts out if he would try dating him... for an experiment or anything. Travis is excited, he wants to be closer and happily hugs onto Sal as his answer.

Larry is a lot ore aggressive. Cornering Travis and glaring down at him. Demanding to know what his game is. Travis doesn't fight he just nervously asks if Larry hates him. Larry almost says he does but gets distracted by the trembling and cowering kitten before him. Fuck, he can't possibly hate Travis. Larry instead starts approaching Travis. At first Travis is afraid that Larry will hit him if he doesn't like something he does. Larry hates to admit it, but Travis infested his mind. Dreams were no longer sacred when teenage hormones and a new love interest were involved. Many a times he had to look away when Travis were a particular skirt or dress because his dreams seemed to run rampant with those items. When they finally talk, Travis initiates it. He Pushes Larry into a bathroom stall and demands he explain himself. He's staring at him like a piece of meat and following him around. Larry is scaring HIS friends. Larry doesn't even hesitate to pounce on Travis. Mouth to mouth and hands on ass. Travis surprised but kinda into it allows the kiss until Larry gets too handsy. He returns to his friends with an angry red hand print on his cheek. It takes a month of apologizing Travis finally agrees to give Larry a chance. (Larry tells his mom and dances around the apartment that night)

First kiss failures: Larry got too into the kiss and starts feeling up the poor boy. Sal pecks him in his sleep and never tells Travis. He just happily holds the memory of kissing his sleeping princess.

First dates: Larry tries to show Travis the fun things to do in this sleepy little town. Travis is excited just to go anywhere other than church and school. At first there are a few hiccups, maybe weather, maybe places are crowded or cancelled. But it still ends well with the boys passed out in the truck, snuggled under a blanket Larry stores with a big smile on their face. Sal is much more romantic. Candles and flowers. Dresses up nice and styles his hair in a neat bun. He wants to impress Travis and assert he can be the man for him by presenting more masculine (Travis snorts and tells him even in a dress Sal could fight a bear). Its a simple dinner at home with Gizmo as their lazy server, sleeping on the couch in a little suit. The night ends well with the boys enjoying a night stroll and admiring the calm and almost desolate surroundings of Nockfell.

First Times: Sal does NOT expect Travis to offer it. In fact, he almost shattered his favorite mug with the tight grip he put on it. Travis thinks this means Sal doesn't want him, but no nono, Sal wants it/ He wants Travis bad. That simp wastes no time scurrying to their room, cleaning his bed and all necessary items are prepared. He was well stocked for... college purposes, but Travis offering to give Sal his first?? (Yes. He did a victory dance and scream in the tree house when he thought he was alone.)

First Time: Larry would waste no time, grabbing Travis and making sure, this is what he wants. Larry may sleep around before they got together but he would never expect Travis to offer his first time so soon. Travis agreeing and Larry in tears hugging onto the confused man. He has never been so gentle with a partner and savored every second, sound and action. It may not have been Larry's first but he was more than happy to say it was his best. Larry would 100% scream to Sal about it later though. He is a man that appreciates his partner and would be an aftercare fiend. Relishing in any reactions Travis gives him while massages and treats the poor tired bum.

Living together: Hell hath no fury like Travis on cleaning day. The boys no not to be in his way if he has his cleaning apron and swiffer. The only one allowed to interrupt his most sacred day is Gizmo and any animals they adopt. Larry has to moderate his metal music or sleep on the porch, he tried to test Travis and found the porch uncomfortable during a rainstorm. No ghost hunting after 11pm. If you even think Travis will allow you in the house after hunting ghosts he will promptly pack your bags and ship them off to your parents. Sal has his own room dedicated entirely to clothes and accessories. His prosthetics he tries to hide at first but after a harsh scolding from Travis (while he literally hand cleans every single prosthetic so Sal doesn't get an infection) Sal starts putting them away where he feels comfortable and clean. They don't expect Travis to be semi nude half the time. Especially before they marry and start a family, no pants. Never wearing pants. Larry hams up the free skin. Sal is too embarrassed of his sinful thoughts.

Proposals: Travis would be terrified of marriage after what happened to his mother. If they were to propose they ould make sure he is fully comfortable and settled in their new life. They would make sure he is loved and never feels any of the fear his father had instilled in him. Larry mentions marriage in passing to gauge his reaction. Ig Travis tenses, he kills the conversation and instead distracts Travis. If Travis reacts positively he would sneak a ring on his finger and just smirk until Travis realizes and smiles. Sal =, however, is sneaky. Keeping close tabs on Travis. If Travis starts showing signs of interest, he would 100% plan the biggest proposal for Travis and make sure he feels cherished during every moment.

[bullshittierlists]

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR DANGANRONPA V3 (and probably the other games, too, just to be safe)

So, just as a heads up, I made this list a few months ago, I think in the middle of chapter 4. I was going to update it, but I realized that any feelings I had were just made stronger and the list was still relatively accurate. Here are my thoughts:

I see no god up here other than me

Kirumi Tojo - As you may know about me, I can typically tell who my favorite characters are going to be before I indulge myself in a series. This has especially rung true throughout Danganronpa, I was able to correctly guess Taka and Gundham as my respective favorites before actually seeing them in action. Let me tell you that Kirumi surprised me. I originally guessed K1-B0 as my favorite and while he’s still up there, he is nowhere near Kirumi. I realized she was my favorite the moment chapter 2 ended. Not only were her execution and plan wonderful and brilliantly done, her last-ditch plea to convince everyone to let her live sold her for me. Not only did this plea make sense, it almost worked and I kinda wish it would’ve. Her motive was almost completely selfless and she worked damn hard to escape. Her execution was the only time I cried during this game because I wanted so badly for her to escape, but I knew that all of her efforts were futile. I know her biggest criticism is that her plan from hiding Ryoma’s body was completely unnecessary, but I like to believe she was just nervous and overthought the whole thing. I mean, this had to go perfectly in order for her to save her country, of course she’s going to add a few too many steps.

Miu Iruma - Okay, I know this is going to sound fake, but I actually really love the dichotomy of her character. The way that she acts so self-righteous but is actually quite self-conscious really stood out to me. Of course she’s funny and hot, too, but I feel it’s important to really appreciate the way her character was written. It amazes me that she was written to be the least likable character in the entire series and still ended up being one of my favorites.

You’re the best

K1-B0 - Yes, I type out his name every time. As I already mentioned, he was my original guess for favorite character, but it obviously didn’t work out that way. He stayed in his position of first for a while, but I always knew it wasn’t meant to last, I just didn’t know which character would take his place. Even besides my doubts, I still love K1-B0, I just wish more could’ve been done with him in the earlier chapters. There are several opportunities for him to be a really funny character and have good interactions with Kokichi and Miu, but he just comes off as annoying. I feel like he only really started to be utilized after Miu died with Monotaro and I really enjoyed their dynamic, I just wish we could’ve had some of this side of K1-B0 before this point.

Kokichi Oma - This spot probably isn’t as subjective as I’d like it to be. Every time Kokichi was on screen, I would get visibly annoyed, but I knew I was in for a treat figuring out his deeper intents behind what he’s saying. The only reason I really like Kokichi at all is because he’s fun to analyze. It gets boring to analyze Nagito because his motivation is pretty much just a mix of “hope” and “he’s crazy.” Kokichi’s character trait of lying makes it so fun to individually analyze each of his lines to figure out whether he’s telling the truth and why or why not. Other than that, I guess he has some funny dialogue with Miu sometimes.

Gonta Gokuhara - I really don’t know. I know this is way too early to be unsure about characters, but I just know I couldn’t put him any lower, but I also couldn’t put him any higher. He’s just such a sweetheart, but that’s about where the substance ends. I adored every time he was on my screen, but everything that would’ve been fun to analyze about him just leads back to Kokichi. I still really enjoy his presence, though. I’d like a big Gonta hug.

Kaede Akamatsu - I’ll just say it, I think she would’ve made for a better protagonist. I’ll talk about this later, but Shuichi’s character development doesn’t really feel like it goes anywhere and the twist doesn’t feel worth it because of that. I think the twist should still have been incorporated, but with the roles reversed. Either way, we got what we got, and what we got was tears from Clair de Lune. But seriously, she really is a great pianist. I’ve been trying to learn the piece for ages and it’s still too complicated for me. I mean, it’s in 9/8 for God’s sake. Good for her, regardless.

Tenko Chabashira - Tenko’s a weird case. I didn’t actually care for her that much until quite literally a few lines before she died. Fun fact: I spoiled this entire series for myself before I ended up playing it and I’m still mad at myself. This meant that I was just waiting for all of the deaths to happen, especially Tenko’s. I was fully aware that every line could be her last during the seance, but I wasn’t aware that she would pull on my heart strings before she went. When she tells Himiko that she’ll do the seance in her place so she can talk to Angie, I literally almost started crying. Before this, Tenko was just kind of annoying, but not too bad, but this moment really solidified her spot for me. She really just wanted to help Himiko and I wish she had chosen a better target for her affections.

Hey, I think you’re pretty cool, I like you a lot

Shuichi Saihara - Time to elaborate on what I said for Kaede. I actually really enjoyed Shuichi’s character development throughout the first three chapters. Before coming to Hope’s Peak, he was afraid to hurt people with his detective skills. Kaede notices this and helps him through it, passing the reins to Kaito once she passes. Shuichi convicts Kaede and later Kirumi, much to everyone’s detriment, but they’re all okay with it (Nobody was really super sad about Korekiyo to begin with, lol). Then, starting in chapter 4, everyone just kinda flips on him. Shuichi + the rest of the gang - Kokichi all believe that Gonta is innocent and Shuichi tries to prove this. Instead of supporting him, everyone (especially Kaito) tries to... stop him??? from proving it??? They’re all just in agreement that it wasn’t Gonta, but don’t want to proceed with the investigation to figure out who it was instead. It’s really frustrating and made my overall experience much less enjoyable. This is bumped up a few notches in chapter 5 with Maki. I understand that she was part of the whole case, but that doesn’t make it any less annoying that she won’t let me prove Kaito was the victim. It just feels like the character development was all for nothing and every student feels like a human obstacle (except K1-B0, of course). Still relatable and emo, though.

Rantaro Amami - I would make the joke everyone expects, but I’m on my laptop and I don’t know how to get to the emoji keyboard.

Ryoma Hoshi - I genuinely don’t have anything to say about Ryoma. He’s my halfway point because I don’t have anything particularly for him and I don’t have anything particularly against him, either. Go off, funky little cat man.

Kaito Momota - He got on my nerves in chapter 4, but he was a genuinely sweet character that I really enjoyed talking to. Any time he would talk about the stars, I would swoon because he’s just such a natural romantic. Not really my type, though. Very average.

Monophanie - Legally you can’t ask me why the monokubs are where they are. She’s voiced by Natalie Hoover (Sonia) and I guess that’s my only reasoning.

Monotaro - I really just liked his interactions with K1-B0 in chapter 4. Other than that, I greatly disliked his and Monophanie’s presence in Gonta’s execution. 0/10 worst use for monokubs.

Monodam - A nice, non-distracting addition to Korekiyo’s execution. But he had so much potential and just threw it all away. Apparently I’m a basketball dad from a high school movie now.

I remember you

Angie Yonaga - Many times, I’ve found myself asking who I ship from the series and this love triangle comes to mind. Of Angie, Himiko, and Tenko... I only really like Tenko. I don’t hate Angie’s cult stuff as much as everyone else seems to, but she didn’t have nearly enough of a presence for me to latch onto outside of the cult stuff, which was funny, I will admit.

Maki Harukawa - I was so excited the whole game for her to get cool. I knew she was going to get cool, I just didn’t know when or how. But then, it was chapter 5 already and she hadn’t gotten cool in my eyes yet. I was really meh on her by that chapter anyway, but her being annoying really knocked her down a few pegs. She got a couple extra points for surprising me during the case, but not enough to bump her up any spots.

Himiko Yumeno - I was rooting for her to be crushed under the rock at the end. She was fine before chapter 3, but then they tried to develop her with the Akane treatment and it didn’t work for me at all. She just got on my nerves during the third trial and continued to contribute nothing throughout the rest of the game. During chapter 5 and 6, it’s like the writers just completely forgot that she was there. This would’ve been fine if they weren’t the last couple of chapters and she was one of about 6 people left alive. She had a role to play and didn’t play it in the slightest. The most she was utilized after chapter 3 was as Miu’s replacement post-chapter 5. Someone needed to fill the dirty jokes quota and I guess Himiko was chosen. #GiveTenkoABetterLoveInterest2021

Monosuke - The only thing I remember him doing throughout the entire game was distract me from Kirumi’s exectuion. Not a fan.

You are the worst. Literal scum. Leave this planet and never return

Korekiyo Shinguji - Okay, listen. He’s not that bad. His design is actually one of the best, in my opinion and I love his dedication to his craft. However, he just creeps me out whenever he’s on screen and I’d prefer not to be around him. It’s not even the sister thing, I honestly think that’s funny and a nice change of pace, but his overall demeanor is creepy. Not to mention he’s played by Todd Haberkorn and he’s been in one too many roles recently. Hopefully I’ll get over it, but as for now, that loses him points.

Tsumugi Shirogane - I know, not exactly an unpopular opinion. She’s just annoying and downright pisses me off a lot of the time with her “plain” shtick. I already knew she was going to be the mastermind, so most of the game was just me waiting for her to reveal it. I swear, I almost couldn’t take it every time she said something like, “What if there isn’t a mastermind?” “What?? There’s a mastermind????” Just stfu Tsumugi. You all are lucky I don’t have the energy to talk about 3-6 right now.

Monokid - Hate the tongue sprite, that’s literally the only reason he’s down here. He’s also kind of annoying, but made the best addition to an execution out of all of the monokubs. His death was one of the few things that surprised me in this game and it was a welcome twist. I was sick of him by this point, but was still incredibly shocked when he was pushed into the execution. Then, his severed head rolls out to all of the students looking on in shock at Kaede’s death. Masterful. Still hate the tongue sprite.

There we go. Definitely my least favorite cast out of the whole series, but it’s still fun to love on and hate on a lot of the characters, as per usual. There are just a few too many in the middle tier (metaphorically speaking) that are either uninteresting or just don’t get their time to shine. Maybe they’ll eventually grow on me more, but I doubt it.

[hongism]

mists of celeste ➻ nine

➻ pairing: ??? x fem reader ➻ genre: space au, pirate au, space pirate!ateez, angst, eventual smut ➻ Word Count: 4.6k ➻ Rating: M ➻ Warnings: language, violence, guns and weaponry, blood, tw: violence in this chapter ➻ summary: Sneaking aboard the ship of a renowned space pirate may not have been the best idea, but you’ll have to make do with what fate has handed to you

⇐ previous | next ⇒

mists of celeste act one ➻ part nine

​​

The air is hot and stagnant around you, and the black ecosuit over your body isn’t helping block that heat in the slightest. You shift on the sand under your body. Sweat trickles down the crown of your head, and the muscles around your left eye are already tired from you squinting so much. There is no movement in your scope; it’s a clear and still area in front of the warehouse below. Yeosang is on your right, squatted beside where you are lying down on the cliff side and watching the ground as you do.

“Nothing,” you say as you pull away from the scope. Glancing up at Yeosang, you await his next order but it’s not for you.

“San, Jongho. You are clear to drop down. Good luck.” Yeosang releases his wristband after giving the order and pushes a loose clump of blonde hair off his forehead. “Stay put and watch the front door from this angle. I’m doing to wrap around to the other side of the cliff and watch the back entrance. I’ll keep in contact with you over the headset. Here’s a pistol in case of emergencies but try not to use it without telling me you’re in trouble first. Keep your eyes and ears open.”

“Will do,” you mutter in response, bringing your chin back down so you can stare through the scope again. When you pull up and check your right side again, Yeosang is gone. The only evidence that he was ever near you is the lone pistol at your side. You snag the weapon and pull it under your body, eyes trailing over the landscape surrounding you.

It’s the first time you’ve ever been to Medra, but you were expecting much more than what you are currently faced with. The area you’re in is pretty much just a rocky desert, filled with small cliffs and shallow canyons at every turn. Even in the dead of night, there is no breeze. The air isn’t cool either despite the sun being gone from sight. Of course, it doesn’t help that Yeosang landed the transport ship a couple miles back out of fear of being seen by someone, so you already worked up a sweat from that.

You shift your weapon to aim the scope at the roof of the warehouse. Two bodies move quickly across the flat surface – San and Jongho – dark shadows over the roof, and you follow them with your scope for a few moments before returning to the main entrance. Your earpiece crackles to life as you do, and Yeosang’s voice carries over.

“Do you see anything?” He asks. You sigh, reaching for your wristband and speaking against the metal.

“No, it’s quiet on my end. All I see is San and Jongho.”

“It’s clear on my end too,” Yeosang mutters back. You pull away from the scope and heave another deep sigh.

“How long is this supposed to take?” You ask. A chuckle comes in response at first, and you press your lips into a thin line as you wait for proper response.

“Are you impatient already, Y/N?” You neglect to respond to his snarky remark, prompting him to keep talking. “It should take two hours at most. One hour if we’re lucky.”

“What do you mean by lucky?”

“I mean if San can keep his head screwed on the right way then there will be no trouble.” There’s a hint of venom in Yeosang’s words, and you are quick to pick up on it.

“You don’t seem to like San all too much,” you say in a quiet tone. Yeosang releases another laugh.

“You do realize that San can hear us both over the comm? We didn’t switch channels.”

“You’re the one who insulted San’s abilities,” you counter. His tone and attitude cause a twinge of annoyance to stir in your gut, but you push that aside and refocus your attention on the scope before you.

Yeosang makes a sound somewhat like clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth.

“You’re quite defensive of San, aren’t you?”

You inhale sharply, his voice alone grating at your annoyance.

“I don’t believe in minimizing someone without knowing what they can do first,” you argue back. Your index finger slips over the trigger of the sniper even though there are no targets before you. “Besides, San saved my life by getting me to Yunho.”

“That’s a strange paradox in and of itself.” Yeosang pauses, and you hear the comm line die out. For a moment you think he’s spotted trouble, but his voice starts up again in the same calm tone as before. “Saving lives isn’t like him.”

“Would you say the same about me then?” You inquire. You pull your finger off the trigger, letting it rest on the sandy ground instead.

“Have you suddenly saved a life recently? No. At least, I don’t imagine you have. You – Y/N L/N, Ghost of Eros – are a killer. An assassin. A weapon. That is what you were bred to be. You were made to kill, and that is what you know how to do, is it not? Would you tell a lion to stop before his prey and have mercy? No, because lions are not capable of mercy. San is the same way. He is a weapon, and that is what he has been used as his whole life. It’s a fact that he is well aware of. As a member of the crew, he has one singular purpose and that purpose is to execute and assassinate. To use his abilities as a Spectre to do what Hongjoong wants.”

A scoff escapes you, and you make sure that the comm picks it up so Yeosang can hear you.

“So Hongjoong is running a slave ship then? One slave wasn’t enough, so he has to treat the rest of his crew like slaves as well? If he thinks for a second that I will let him treat me like a slave then he is sorely mistaken. The military couldn’t keep me in check, so a fucking loose-cannoned pirate sure as hell won’t either.”

Quiet comes in response to your rant. You wait for any sort of answer from Yeosang, but a minute goes by in absolute silence. Then he laughs. It’s more of a huff than a laugh, and you can hear the disbelief in the sound.

“Hongjoong isn’t treating anyone like a slave. He gives each person the freedom to decide for themselves how they want to be treated, what their position is, how they can be most effective on the crew. The only person he decided for was Seonghwa, but seeing as Seonghwa was the first to join the crew, that makes sense. Otherwise, he never made that decision for anyone. Even if you can’t see it yourself, he is giving you flexibility of your own. San chose what he is, and he chose to be a weapon. He chose what he is on the crew for one very clear reason.”

“And what is that?” You forget that said man is on the comms with you for a minute, prying to get an answer out of Yeosang before he decides not to say anything at all.

“It’s all because that’s how San views himself.” Yeosang lets silence hang in the air for a moment, and you drink in the information. It’s a sad and sinking reality that washes over you with the force of a tsunami. “No one influenced it, Y/N. Not Hongjoong or anyone else on the crew. If San wants to be treated that way, then I will respect that.”

Part of you wants to ask how that is an act of respect when it’s so harsh and harmful. The other, more prominent part of you is stunned into silence as you mull over what Yeosang has told you.

How can a person subject themselves to being nothing more than a tool for others to use?

“Cat got your tongue, Y/N?” Yeosang inquires, tone almost lilting. The image of San’s Cheshire smile rises to the forefront of your mind, but it only fills you will sadness as you picture it. “Status update.”

“It’s still clear,” you mutter back. Yeosang awards you with a hum of approval before falling back into silence. Something still nags at the edge of your thoughts though, overtaking the sadness behind San’s image of himself. “If Hongjoong isn’t treating any of you like slaves, then why keep one himself?”

“What do you mean? No one on the crew is a slave. And Hongjoong certainly isn’t the type to keep slaves, despite how he might come across sometimes. There’s a difference between being harsh and inhumane.”

“Then what’s the deal with the one in the collar then? Wooyoung? Is he not a slave?”

“Of course he’s not,” Yeosang snaps back in an instant, barely letting you finish your sentence before he’s denying it. “He hasn’t been a slave for a very long time. That doesn’t mean those scares have fully healed though.”

You opt not to answer this time; instead, you let your gaze return to the scope and check the entrance to the warehouse again.

“God, I fucking hate Medra.” Yeosang’s voice crackles through the earpiece. “So fucking hot and sandy. The damn winds will start any minute now too.”

You don’t have time to ask about the winds because something twitches in the corner of your scope. Your index finger finds the trigger immediately, shot lined up on a wandering head, and you find two soldiers walking towards the main entrance. Your muscles twitch as you itch to just pull the trigger, but you stop yourself at the last second.

“Movement,” you hiss. “San, Jongho – you’ve got two soldiers moving into the front door. Both armed with what looks like laser rifles. Helmets and chest padding.”

“Damn, why are you getting all the fun over there?” Yeosang complains. You ignore him in favor of following the soldiers with your eyes until they disappear into the building.

“They’ve entered the warehouse,” you report.

Once they’re completely out of sight, you let the tension roll off your shoulders and relax against the ground again. Your fingers shake as you pull them away from the trigger. In one swift movement, you swing your legs around and sit up, bringing your left hand to touch the material over your bandage. The kevlar is damp to the touch, and even through the darkness, you can see the scarlet hue of blood on your fingertips.

“Well, fuck…” You keep your lips away from the wristband, making certain that Yeosang and the others don’t hear you. You wipe your fingers against your thigh and settle back to the sandy ground.

For a moment, it feels like you’re elsewhere. Outside the palace of Eros in the dead of night, waiting with your sniper just like this for the king to step into sight and earn himself a bullet in the head.

For a moment, you feel the cool breeze of Eros’ winter on your skin, the cold sweat on your brow, and the burning tears on your cheeks as you sought to line up the shot.

For a moment, you see the scene of that fucking public execution that you could not stop no matter how hard you tried. Maybe putting the bullet in sooner would’ve done something, but it didn’t. You had to settle for failure.

“Does this take you back to the good old days of the military?” Yeosang inquires. He breaks you out of your reverie, and you feel the heat of the air around you again.

“Which days are you talking about?” You ask, tone slightly shaky despite your efforts to hide how shaken up you are.

“You mentioned being on a covert mission and assassination team. Surely you got good at shooting people in the head through that.”

You are already sensitive thanks to reliving the memory, so you blame that fact for your very short patience with Yeosang.

“Why is everyone so fucking intent on that one fact?” You hiss out with venom in your tone.

“It’s impossible to think of anything else. That’s what you are known for. We know you because of that and that alone. Sure, you have an extensive list of crimes on your record, but to everyone who has seen the record, only one thing stands out. Without killing the king, you would be nothing and probably not even alive. Hongjoong wouldn’t have seen you as valuable in the slightest. Hell, San probably only saved you in the cargo bay because he knew who you were. As for myself, I want to know what the real reason for it was. You’ve already denied it being a revolution or something grand and fantastic. And you seem to hate taking responsibility for what you did. So that really begs the question: why?”

You swallow roughly. The words nearly make you slip back into that structured mind space of your memory, and you feel the ghosting touch of cold air on your nape. A searing pain down your spine.

“It was a personal vendetta,” you force out, breaking yourself out of the memory again. You can feel your chest heaving from the efforts to keep it at bay. You know if Daichi were here, he would be lecturing you on what a shitty job you’re doing, but you can barely keep your eyes on the ground below you. “Something I had to do. A score to settle, and that’s what I did. Do I regret it? Absolutely not. Would I do it again? In a heartbeat. I would do it ten times over. But I can’t call it murder. Call it justice for the fallen who died when their king was supposed to be leading them and protecting them. Justice for the king who failed them in so many ways.”

You hope that your answer will shut Yeosang up, but it has the opposite effect, unfortunately.

“A vendetta? Is a vendetta justice then? How can that not be murder? You talk about justice as though it’s something to be attained through murder when it’s not. You claim it wasn’t for anyone but yourself, yet here you are contradicting yourself? I won–”

“What would you have done in my shoes then? Would an obedient little prince have killed the king?” You can almost hear the way Yeosang’s jaw snaps together, a slight click over the comm. Maybe you’ve finally managed to get him to shut up long enough for you to breathe, but your luck evidently isn’t that good.

“I wouldn’t have been able to. Even after everything that went down prior to the order for my execution, I could never bring myself to despise the king enough to kill him.”

“Would Kang Minhee have killed the king?”

“No, just as I said.”

“Would Kang Yeosang?”

Yeosang laughs but doesn’t respond this time. It’s an answer in and of itself.

“Without those chains on your wrist, you are nothing more than a slave to the monarchy. The chains just make you seem like a traitor to the outside world, but it’s quite obvious that you aren’t actually one.” You pull back from the sniper in front of you, sitting up on your heels. A sigh leaves your lips.

“An interesting take, Y/N. Something tells me you wouldn’t understand even a sliver of the truth though.” Yeosang’s tone is final. You don’t want to say anything else either, but you can tell that you’ve upset him with your words. You hardly feel guilty though, considering his incessant remarks about your decisions.

“I’m tired of sitting around and waiting for nothing,” you announce. Not even as second later does Jongho’s voice crackle in your ear.

“We’ve got a problem.”

“What are you talking about?” Yeosang hisses.

“San went ahead without me. Darted out of sight without warning, I couldn’t catch up to him because he was using his abilities. A guard saw him moving. I haven’t been spotted yet, but the guard is already calling for backup.”

“Fucking hell. Jongho, stay out of sight for now. I’ll come down and handle this myself.”

“I’ll go with you,” you demand, falling back to the ground to check for said reinforcements in your scope.

“No, you are staying put. Keep an eye out for reinforcements but don’t you fucking dare shoot anyone.”

“Absolutely not,” you refuse. “You have zero reason to trust that I will stay put and not run away first chance I get. Or that I’ll tell you the truth about how many are on the way. I am offering my help. You ought to take it.”

A small squadron of soldiers rush into the corner of your vision. You line up a shot without hesitation, aiming for a soldier just in front of another. You pull the trigger, the shot echoes through the canyon, and the bullet ricochets through the head of the first soldier and into the one adjacent him. You yank the bolt handle, letting the empty cartridge fall into the sand, then push yourself up. You snatch the spare pistol up in your right hand and reach around your back to feel for the knife strapped to your back.

“Don’t you fucking dare jump down from this height!” Yeosang yells through the earpiece. “You need to stay put, especially with your arm!”

You ignore his shouts of protests, yanking the knife out and propelling yourself off the edge of the cliff. You swing down and collide with the rock roughly. Just before you begin to skid down and fall to what would most likely be your death, you jam the edge of your knife into the sandy rock. The stone is so fragile and porous that the blade cuts right through and hooks. You brace your feet on the cliff side, ignoring the burn that emanates from your suit skidding across the rock, and let the momentum carry you down to the remaining three soldiers.

They’ve spotted you, and you can hear their shouts as they fumble to line up their assault rifles and fire at you. Yeosang yells something incoherent in your ear but your body is so wound up on adrenaline that you don’t process a word he’s saying. You twist your head to look down at the soldiers and wait for the right moment to push off the cliff. All three have their guns trailed just beneath your feet, going lower and lower as you slide further down. You hear the gunshot before the first soldier calls for open fire.

In that moment, time seems to slow to a standstill, you yank the knife out of the sandy rocks and push yourself towards the group below. You underestimated how many bullets would be fired in your direction, however, and without a second thought, you close your eyes. The markings on your back burn like hell as you let the slightest hint of your powers slip through before the bullets can hit your skin. When you open your eyes again, one of the soldiers screams.

You propel your knife into his neck and aim your pistol at the second soldier on your right side. The bullet hits him square between the eyes at the same moment that your knife hits the one on the left. Your body barrels into the remaining guard in the middle, letting him cushion the brunt of your fall. The momentum and whiplash of his head smacking against the ground are probably enough to end his life, but you don’t take any chances and fire one last bullet.

Your legs feel like jelly as you pull yourself off the guard. Once you’re on your feet again, you glance up at the cliff side in search of Yeosang, but you can’t see his figure atop it anymore. Your earpiece is silent as well. You look around, bending down to grab your knife out of the corpse. You wipe the blade on his uniform before tucking it back into the sheath on your lower back.

You hear the thud of boots hitting the ground before you see the perpetrator on the edge of your vision. You turn to face Yeosang, expecting him to yell at you, but instead of speaking, he grabs you by the arm. With an unprecedented amount of force, he throws you against the cliff side. The breath is knocked out of your lungs. You choked on dust and sand. The duffel bag across his shoulders hits the ground as he steps closer to you.

“You are fucking careless, selfish, and ignorant. You can’t listen to orders for two seconds?” He spits at you, hot breath cascading over your face. You shove against him, hands hitting his chest and sending him back a couple feet.

“Remember that I am first and foremost a traitor. That’s it. I apparently have an issue following orders ironically. I create opportunities, and if you expect me to wait around for one to appear, you’re sorely mistaken.”

“You should be riddled with bullets and dead on the floor. That would be better for everyone at this rate.”

“Say it with a bit more enthusiasm, pretty boy! I didn’t quite hear the fire in your tone.” You push off the cliff side and start to move around Yeosang. His hand catches you by the throat. He shoves you back against the rock with little to no effort, fingers squeezing around your neck. The pressure only continues to increase, and for a split second, you think he might actually kill you. Your hands fly up to tear at his, trying to pull his fingers off your with depleting strength. He’s cutting off your airway just enough to make it uncomfortable.

Blonde hair blurs across your vision as his face moves closer to yours. You try to duck away to no avail; his grip keeps you in place.

“What would you do if I let you go now?”

The question confuses you at first, and you can’t quite understand what he means by it. He clears things up with his next question though, an echo of one he’s spoken to you before.

“How does this end?” He loosens his grip on your throat just enough to let you speak.

“I-I don’t know,” you choke out.

“What are your goals now?”

“I… I don’t have any.” You continue to struggle against his grip as you speak in attempts to free your throat more. “The only thing – the only thing I wanted in life was a chance to live a no-normal one, but that has been robbed from me. Revenge was th-the only thing that mattered to me up until I k-killed the king. I – I have no more goals for myself.”

Yeosang’s grip tightens as you finish speaking. He squeezes harder than before, and the air leaves your lungs at an alarming rate. Black spots dance in the edge of your vision. Your head pounds as though someone has hit you three times over. Then the pressure on your neck dissipates. You choke in air, doubling over and bracing yourself on your knees as you rush to catch your breath.

“There’s no point in killing you then.” Yeosang steps back, watching you collapse with unamused eyes. “I’m going to figure out what your true intentions are. There’s a reason you were aboard The Revenge and there is a reason you came aboard The Horizon. I’ll make sure you stay alive long enough for me to figure it out.”

Something about Yeosang’s tone and stance above you exudes ruthlessness. You feared Hongjoong and all the possibilities surrounding him, but this is a different type of fear with Yeosang. It’s like he’s a predator chasing its prey, circling you with a hunger that you don’t know. You rub at your throat where his fingers just were. The skin is already sore to the touch, and you imagine that it will be bruised within hours.

Jongho and San make a timely appearance just then. The Berserker rushes out of the warehouse first, and San follows close behind albeit at a much slower pace.

“We need to leave. Preferably quickly. We got what we need but without the stealth part. So…”

Yeosang nods and taps at his wristband, turning away from you. Jongho’s eyes go to the carnage you left near the doors then over to the spot where you’re huddled against the cliff side.

A loud rumbling suddenly starts up from somewhere beyond the cliff. Yeosang glances back at the three of you, his expression suddenly calm compared to the one you saw moments ago.

“We’ll be making a loud exit then. The transport ship is on its way. Be ready to move fast.”

You push yourself up and glare daggers into Yeosang’s back. A sudden gust of hot air sweeps through the valley, and blinding iridescent lights hit as the transport ship lowers to the ground. Yeosang steps onboard first, and you follow behind quickly. You sweep past him to get to a seat.

“San, I’ll be taking your spot in the pilot’s seat since you can’t seem to do as told,” Yeosang hisses between gritted teeth as San steps onto the ship. The dark-haired man merely nods and finds a seat across from you. You glance over at him, trying to read his expression but it’s completely blank. Jongho and Yeosang file into the pilot’s cabin. Neither you nor San speaks for a few minutes. The rumble of the ship is the only thing audible, along with a few clicks here and there as Jongho and Yeosang fiddle with the controls. You keep rubbing at your throat.

“Yeosang is wrong.”

You jerk your head in San’s direction, eyes blazing as you meet his gaze.

“What?”

“Yeosang is wrong,” he repeats.

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“What Yeosang said about why I brought you to Yunho… it’s wrong. He’s wrong.”

Oh. Oh. You had forgotten that he could hear that entire conversation. Of course, he could. You were speaking on the same channel Jongho and San were dialed to.

“It wasn’t just because of your identity.”

“You don’t have to justify your actions to me,” you respond. San shakes his head.

“I do. I most definitely do. There’s a reason why Yeosang and the others view me in that regard. Why they would assume that to be my intention. But I want you to know that I didn’t save you. Yunho did. Because that’s his job.”

“No, actually,” you refute before twisting your lips to the side. You glance up at the ceiling, a deep exhale leaving your lungs, then continue to speak. “You did save me, whether you like it or not. I’m grateful to Yunho, yes, but I’m also grateful to you. Because without you, I would be dead in a crate of fabrics.”

“Thank you… for saying that.”

You nod and look away from the Spectre, focusing your attention on the floor under your feet. Yellow grains of sand are spread across the metal, and you mindlessly drag your foot through the scattered sand. A thud breaks your attention. You whip your head up again to where San was just sitting, but he’s no longer there. He’s crumpled on the floor of the transport ship, body limp.

✧✧✧

a/n: surprise it’s early yeEHAW i got too excited about this chapter and just had to write and post it now bc im sdjfoisdjfoi vibrating at a high frequency!! let me know what you think about this chapter i’m so so excited to share it with you guys!

taglist: @faeriewoobin​ @sugarrimajins​ @atinyinwonderland​ @2504-life @lil7bluedragon @sparklychangbin​ @jeong-uwu​ @jeonartemis​

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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-NoDerivatives 4.0 International License.

[daydream-believin]

The Never-Ending Roadtrip (waffles)

summary: (part 1) or (part 5) <- reader joins douxie on his quest to protect nari. he’ll need company wont he. (part 6) do you like waffles? also appalachia and nj trollmarket fun. next-> (part 7)

warnings: swearing, fem! reader, maybe an alcohol mention, proof reading is for squares yo

word count: 3875

a/n: i’m sorry to anyone from PA but wtf. i also have no idea why this turned out the way it did. bon apetit.

no gif im trying to test something

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Y/n looked over at Douxie. The blue of his hair was starting to fade into a duller hue. While not as bright and bold as his personality, it was still very nice to look at. This muted blue was softer, almost comforting in a way. Y/n found herself running her fingers through it. It wasn’t just the color that was soft. Like feathers in her hand, she gently caressed the strands. The duller color made him look tired, older, and the permanent bags under his eyes didn’t help. She placed her hand on his face and ran her thumb over a said eye bag. He gave her a very subdued smile in return. His sunken eyes were so beautiful. Her favorite color. Or colors, one should say. They were like an earth toned opal. Y/n’s hand drifted down his face. She used her thumb to explore his cheekbones, tracing constellations in his freckles, and finally settled on his mouth, tracing his cupid’s bow. Douxie couldn’t help but break the stoic face he was trying to hold.

“As much as I hate to ask this, and I really do, but will you please cease what you’re doing, My Love. I’m trying to drive here.”

“Yes, I would also like to ask you to stop, miss L/n. Not wrecking the ship is worth you canning your pda for a while.” Archie added.

Y/n pulled her hand back and exaggeratedly pouted. She teasingly stuck her tongue out at Archie for good measure, but couldn’t help but dissolve into a snicker right after so it wasn’t very effective. But really, it wasn’t her fault that Douxie’s beautifully sculpted face was right there and demanding to be touched. She tried to distract herself by focusing on the scenery around them. North Pennsylvania was delightful, so it’d be a shame if she spent the whole time that they flew through it looking at nothing but Douxie. There was plenty of time for her to do that the rest of her life. It’s not like she didn’t have every freckle memorized already. Every single adorable little dot. Right, Pennsylvania. Appalachia. Y/n was a little disappointed they didn’t manage to go through West Virginia, being as north as they were. She really wanted to know what all the fuss was about. Country roads.

The mountains were hard to transverse through, so Douxie took the boat up high in the clouds. A little too high. The oxygen was thin. While this didn’t affect Archie the dragon or Nari the plant goddess, Douxie and Y/n were getting a bit woozy. Neither would get altitude sickness to the point of dying, thanks to that good ol’ curse of immortality, but their minds weren’t exactly operating at high speeds here. They passed through a low hanging cloud in a puff of fog.

Though they were over it, just being in the range of Appalachia felt odd. There was a presence that clung to the mountains. Even flying high up in the air, one felt as though they were being watched. Like the thousand eyes of the forest were upon them. Looking down below, hanging over the edge like Douxie hated her to do, Y/n saw a herd of deer that might as well be ants. Watching over the herd was a bigger, or maybe closer, stag on a peak of some sort. His antlers were covered in crimson. Y/n hoped he was just shedding.

There were pathways cutting through the trees below, some roads, some manmade trails, some rivers, some troll trails, and some deer trails. Some that wound around in endless curves, some that seemed to start from nowhere and stop at nothing, some that went round and round in a circle, and some that crossed over each other, effectively creating a maze of sorts. Y/n didn’t know why, but she was glad she was above the trees and not in them. Something within her gut told her that as beautiful as the scenery was, she did not wish to experience it first-hand. The deer below were beautiful, but there was something not quite right about them. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it. She wasn’t sure if she’d be able to turn down a game of ninepins either, and she could really go for a drink.

Douxie’s brain may have been foggy, but he could certainly see Y/n hanging over the edge again, tantalizing him. He couldn’t help but imagine 174 ways for it to end badly. He’d been pretty passive about this before but now that they were so high up, he had no choice but to be up front now.

“Y/n, My Love,” Y/n turned her attention to him, which also pulled her weight more towards the boat than the sky. Good. “do you mind being back near the center of the ship? I really don’t like you draping yourself over the railing like that.”

Y/n was getting sick and tired of people always trying to keep her away from edges, advising her not to climb the mountain, telling her to stay inside when there was only a light rainstorm. She could handle it. She wasn’t a fucking porcelain doll. She was not wearing a fancy gown that suffocated her, she could speak, her lips were not perfectly painted on. And she wouldn’t shatter. “Relax, Dewdrop. I’m fine. I’m not just gonna go skydiving for kicks. If anyone has had a penchant for falling through the sky recently, it’s been you, Hisirdoux. I can catch myself with anti-gravity spells, like you taught me. Besides, we walk across tall, crumbly, ancient non-osha compliant walkways all the time. You never had a problem then.”

“Well,” He huffed, “it would be one thing if I was there next to you, but I’m not, so could you please just try to stay safe when I can’t reach you?” Y/n was taken about at how quick his tone went from annoyed to desperate. She furrowed her brows. Doux sighed, “Look, it frightens me, okay. I know that nothing will happen, but what if it does? I can’t- I can’t lose you.” His tone got even feebler in his pleading. “And there’s so many ways to lose you. Especially with the Order on our tails. Please, just give me this peace of mind for at least one thing.”

Y/n stepped away from the railing, crossing over to Douxie. He opened his arm and she nestled into his side. Pressing her head against his chest, she mumbled, “Absolutely. I’ll just—I’ll just stay here then. Next to you. I’m sorry I worried you. That was the last thing I wanted to do.”

He leaned down to press a kiss to the top of her head. “Thank you, My Darling.”

~ ~ ~

The dipped down south to go through the top of Maryland and completely through Delaware to get to the south of New Jersey, in place of just going through Philadelphia. The city of brotherly love was not on the itinerary.  Philly, and the top of New Jersey, were just too densely populated to take a magic boat through. The airspace was filled with airplanes and skyscrapers. It was easier to go the roundabout way.

As they passed between Philly and Lancaster, they went by fantastically named towns such as Paradise the city, where the girls are pretty, Bird In Hand, Blue Ball, and Intercourse. Stellar. Y/n was starting to really like Pennsylvania. It was cursed ground. She made sure to get photographic evidence of every road sign. Douxie was happy to pose with them.

They took a pit stop in a town called Peach Bottom before leaving Pennsylvania. Y/n wanted to go through New Texas, since she was curious how somewhere in the original colonies could be a new Texas, but Nari could sense a river nearby, and wanted to seek it out. Peach Bottom. It was a cozy little town with a power plant that was dumping it’s waste into the riverside it was built on. Toxic river. Fun. Y/n made Douxie explain to Nari why she couldn’t get near the river or touch any of the water. Y/n wouldn’t have been able to stay as calm as Douxie could. There was nothing happening in the rural Pennsylvanian town. Nothing special about it unless you counted their countless nuclear admissions. The locals didn’t care for strangers, and that was alright with them cause they didn’t want to be here for any more than necessary for a restroom break. Dinner could wait.

The top of Maryland was great. Lots of rivers to make it up to Nari. There was just, an incredibly large walmart near the line. Just absolutely humongous whopper walmart. A leach whose name doesn’t even deserve to be capitalized, thank you very much autocorrect.

It took less than half an hour to fly right through the top of Delaware. Hi Delaware, bye Delaware.

Soon they were on the coast of south New Jersey, headed for a sleepy town called Monty. Monty was a town along the Cohansey, split across it with quite an impressive bridge between the two sides. As soon as the bridge became visible on the skyline, Y/n grabbed Douxie’s sleeve and tugged excitedly. She looked up at him with a big smile. Rest. At last, they were going to get to rest. Y/n made herself busy calling Jim to let him know that they were there so he could call someone else to let them know that they were there and to wait by the entrance for them. Neither Douxie nor Y/n had a horngazzle on them at the moment. Y/n had had one in her possession back in Arcadia, being book club buddies with Blinky, but alas that was destroyed along with their bookstore.

They hid that damn magic boat in the forest. While they did plan on staying with the trolls for a few weeks, Douxie didn’t put it back in its glass bottle quite yet, cause they were in fact taking it into New York not tomorrow but the next day. He covered the ground around it with a few more wards than necessary. Y/n threw up an illusion spell around it, as she had been all the other times they’d just left it in the woods, and thought the wards were overkill but didn’t say anything. They started on the trek to the base of the bridge.

The troll at the entrance greeted them cordially. He was a dark green color, with two massive horns resembling those of a longhorn cow, chiseled stone tattoos, and no clothes other than a tiny loincloth which made everyone but Nari uncomfortable. He let them in with flourish, as if he’d always wanted to do this and practiced it.

“Welcome to NEW JERSEY TROLLMARKET.”

Y/n was surprised at how well the town had come along within the two months the trolls had occupied the cavern. It wasn’t the Trollmarket she had known, there was no Blinky and no library, but still marvelous. The new hearthstone glowed warmly, very much alive and not making zombies. While looking pretty similar to the old Trollmarket, with a multitude of shops and homes carved into the mineral covered walls and formations, there was a sort of human touch to it now. Claire definitely had a hand in the planning and maybe the decorative features too. Or perhaps Jim. Y/n wouldn’t put it past the boy to be the one who designed the very elaborate crystal art flower bed she was looking at. Or that weirdly steampunk bridge. Funny thing, a bridge under a bridge.

Dictatious met them soon after they came in to show them around and to where they would be staying. The tour he gave them basically just included him walking them through the main street, waving his arms to various places and vaguely saying that they were shops but not what they sold, pointing out the pub, and then took them straight to their accommodations. Since the home that had been occupied by Blinky, Jim, and Claire was now empty, they’d be staying there, with the place practically to themselves. Dictatious also lived in said home, but rarely stuck around it for long now that his brother was gone.

“Alright, here’s your nest.”

Since Dictatious still slept in the nest that he shared with Blinky, he had given them Jim and Claire’s. The nests were just rocky bowls carved into the floor of the room, with a few comfort items. Thankfully, Jim and Claire had left theirs full of pillows and a couple thick cushions they must have taken from a couch. Unconventional, but better than sleeping on literal solid rock. Speaking of couches, there were way too many couches spread across the apartment. This entire place only had two rooms, a large living area and a nestroom, and yet there were five couches. Not to mention the extra-large easy chair Dic was currently lounging in. Okay, so one of said couches was technically a love seat, but still. There was no kitchen, which was surprising due to this being Jim Lake Jr’s home, and no table besides the one that three of the sofas were gathered around and a paper-covered work desk against a corner. There were glowing crystal lamps all throughout, lighting the house. All in all, interesting interior design decisions. The kids had definitely been trying to make it a more homey human dwelling but had limited options.

Nari nestled into the nest, happy that there were no blankets to smother her. Not even a minute passed and she was out like a light. Douxie and Y/n sat on one of the couches in the nestroom, watching the veggie lady snooze. Archie made himself comfy in Douxie’s lap, who absent mindedly stroked his familiar’s fur. They were underground now. Surrounded by inorganic matter. Some of that inorganic matter could fight, would be willing to fight, would probably be disappointed if there wasn’t a fight. The little devil on Douxie’s shoulder wasn’t really having to work hard. His stomach growled. They had opted to just not stop for dinner in favor of plowing right through their trip route. It was late, and dark, and Douxie really just wanted them to have a roof over their head before midnight. And now they did.

He looked over at Y/n. They had been a couple for an entire day now and he had yet to take her on a proper date. What a bad boyfriend he was. It’s not like Archie would want to come with them or anything either, since he filled himself with birds that didn’t know what hit them while they traveled. The dragon had even caught a hawk at one point, which wasn’t as impressive as it sounds, since Archie was a much faster flyer. He would be happy to watch Nari for them, surely. And Dic had given them a horngazzle so they could come and go as they pleased. It was settled then.

“Arch, watch Nari for us, please, we’ll be back in a pinch,” He grabbed Y/n’s hand to pull her off the couch, “C’mon, My Love, we’re going on a date.”

~ ~ ~

Turns out the only thing open past midnight in small town New Jersey was a waffle house. The perfect date. Y/n had thought it funny to watch Douxie try and deactivate all the fresh wards he had put around the boat. He had to be careful where he put his feet, and it was like he was doing a silly little dance. Ward trap ballet of his own barely thought-out design. At one point he stepped backwards to admire his work, triggering the ward behind him, and Y/n had to free him from the net. Lucky it was just a net one.

Entering the waffle house, they slid into the nearest booth, the one near the jukebox. They ordered what else but waffles. The food of kings and hungover college kids. Not just plain waffles, though. Douxie got chocolate chip and Y/ got strawberry, and they were going to combine them to make chocolate covered strawberry waffles. Everyone knows chocolate covered strawberries were the most romantic food, why else would they push them so hard around Valentine’s.

Douxie leaned in with his head in his hand. “So, tell me about yourself.”

Y/n laughed, decided to play into this bit. “Oh, I’m just a California lass, on her way to New York. Things have been crazy lately. Went to a very convincing renaissance faire, I’m harboring a fugitive, my roommate keeps hitting on me. Very stressful.  Sure am lucky I came across you, Mr. Handsome.”

“Lucky indeed.” Doux snickered.

Y/n pointed to the jukebox behind Doux, which he twisted around to see. “Have you ever heard ‘Last Night I Saw Elvis At Waffle House’?”

“No?”

“Oh, it’s a banger.” She got out of the booth and put a coin in the juke, making her selection. She slid back in with a Cheshire cat grin and Doux was kind of scared now, actually. As the current song ended and the song that they were waiting for began. Well, it was a song. About seeing Elvis in a waffle house. With a country tune he supposed someone thought was catchy in order for them to have recorded this. Douxie didn’t know what he had expected.

“Uh, wow.”

“Yeah, Ain’t it something. I loved this song when I was knee high to a grasshopper. All the waffle house jams really.”

“Your aunt let someone bring you to a waffle house? That’s not very proper.” Douxie chuckled.

“Oh, no, actually. Um, this was before my dad passed and my mother, ah, slipped.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah.”

Douxie rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m sorry I mentioned it.”

“No, no. I’m fine Dewdrop. I can talk about it, really. And, like you said the other day, I’ve been focusing on the Now Love.” The silly waffle house themed song was still playing despite the air of seriousness that had fallen over the duo. It helped keep Y/n from getting too sad and dwelling on the memories she had just brought up. It was comical, really. A waffle house song keeping her grounded. She rubbed the palm of Douxie’s hand. “I still mourn my family, but it’s been so long that the pain’s but a dull ache now. As long as I don’t think too hard about it. If anyone knows about mourning it’d be you, Doux. I can’t imagine meeting hundreds of friends over my lifetime just to watch them all grow old and die while you just have to go on living.” She paused, eyes drifting downwards, “But I suppose that’ll be my fate anyways.”

Douxie reached over and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “It’s actually not that bad, once you get used to it. You just have to enjoy every bit of time you get. That’s what makes other magic friends so valuable, there are some permanent players on your team.” He let his hand linger under her jaw, pulling her face closer to his, “You have me. We have each other. We’re family. We always have been.”

“So I hate to interrupt, but, waffles.” The server put the plates she had been holding down onto the table. Douxie and Y/n pulled away from each other quick as lightning, sitting up straight in their seats. “Again, sorry guys.”

“Thank you.” The two chorused to their fleeting form in embarrassment. Their faces were fire engine red. Archie was right, they did get a little carried away with the pda. It may have been 12:28am in a waffle house but they were still in public. Grabby hands needed to be kept to themselves.

After dinner, neither Doux nor Y/n could bring themselves to go home quite yet, despite the nagging feeling to return to Nari. They loitered around woods, unsure of what to do. Leaning against the parked boat, Douxie got an idea. He put on the music on his phone, turning the volume all the way up and positioning it so it’d put out a better sound the best he could. The playlist he selected was actually the one he had of songs that reminded him of his beloved. Copying what Y/n had done last night, he held out his hand.

“Come on, dance with me, My Darling.”

Douxie twirled Y/n around in the night breeze that blew through the trees. This song was much faster than the one they danced to last time, and there was more energy between them. Y/n’s laugh echoed through the forest. This was a lot of fun, she could do it all night. Honestly, she could do anything all night if it was with Douxie. He lifted her up, like she weighed nothing. Seriously, how strong was this noodle armed wizard. She threw her arms around his neck, looking down to meet his eyes, a rare thing. Y/n kissed his nose, eliciting a happy giggle from his mouth.

He should have put her back down by now. Instead, he still held her up, transfixed by her face ringed in moonlight, like a halo. She noticed the awestruck look on his face, kissing him properly, yet it did nothing to pull him out of his stupor. He had one thought running over and over in his mind. Marry me. But, he couldn’t say that. A proposal had to be special, not after a waffle house date. Their first date, mind you. He couldn’t possibly jus-

“Marry me, Dewdrop?”

Well apparently he couldn’t but she absolutely could.

It took him a moment to take in her words, shocked out of his overthinking. The biggest grin spread across his face as he giddily spun her around in his arms. He finally put her feet back on the ground, crashing his lips into hers. Y/n brought a hand up to drag through his hair and left the other to slide down his back. No battle for dominance, Douxie’s tongue was definitely the one leading here. He just couldn’t believe it. It was if she had read his mind. It was still hard for him to believe she wanted him in the first place, but this much? If this was the afterlife he must surely be in heaven. One makeout session later, Y/n rasped “So I’m guessing that’s a yes?”

“Let’s sign the papers tomorrow.”

~ ~ ~

Despite the uneasy feeling they had both had about leaving Nari alone for so long, she was perfectly fine. In fact she hadn’t even moved an inch form the spot they left her in. Like they never left at all. Archie was asleep on that couch, as peaceful as ever. They’d tell him the news in the morning.

Y/n climbed into the nest and dragged Douxie down with her. After getting comfy on the array of cushions, he opened his arms and she nestled into his chest. She could feel his hands rest on her back. Perfect. It was calming, listening to his heartbeat, being lulled to sleep with the rhythm that gave proof that her beloved was alive. A steady beat that reassured her he was there, he was there. He wouldn’t leave her again.

*** check notes for chapter illustrations lmao

[drakewalkerfantasy]

Making it right (Blaine x Denise)

Summary: The day when he takes her for a surprise is the day, when she finally realises that it’s more and it always will be more for both of them. The day when she finally starts to believe that the fairy tales can be real at least with this man.

Words: 3202

Rating: PG

Warning: fluff/could be some words or innuendoes, but nothing too specific

A/N: I hope you will love it. I’m not sure if I like it myself... it seems too rushed and I don’t even know if in character. But here it is. Sorry for any mistakes, I tried proofread as much as possible.

“Where are we going,” laughed Denise, trying to match Blaine’s large strides and quick pace. His hand holding hers almost dragging her after him, in only him known direction, making her walk faster.

“What in the concept of surprise missed it’s meaning?” chuckled Blaine, sounding amused by her impatient. But that was one of the reasons why he fell for her... one of the reasons why he was still falling for her even stronger. “But I can promise you will love it,” Blaine said, finally stopping, turning to face Denise and taking both her hands in his. “Now can I blindfold you please?”

“Ummmm, Mister Kinky...,” murmured Denise, stepping closer to him and trying to kiss.

“Someone needs to get her mind out of the gutter or mine will also go there and we will never get anywhere,” laughed Blaine, pulling her closer before placing his hands on her shoulders and pressing his forehead to hers. “So now be a good girl and turn around,” he said.

“Will you punish me if I disobey?" she murmured the question. Her lips ghosting against his, while she spoke.

“Denise...,” growled Blaine with an edge of the warning in his voice before finally turning her around and tying the red blindfold, that was matching Denise’s dress. Placing the soft kiss to her shoulder, that instantly sent a pleasurable sensation down her spine.

“You are no fun,” she pouted with the most adorable pout on her lips.

“I promise you will not regret it. Now give me your hand,” said Blaine, taking her hand in his and leading her down the steep path. His hand placed protectively on the small of her back, while another held hers, carefully helping her down until they finally came to the halt.

Still holding her hand he walked her forward until she heard neighs and clutters of hooves nearby, feeling how her heart fluttered in excitement. A moment later the lace slipping from her eyes, revealing to her two beautiful mighty horses held for them.

“How do you knew?” Asked Denise, coming forward and placing her hand on a chestnut horse's snout, patting the animal with affection.

She had been around horses since the very early age. She learned how to ride her first horse... pony, when she was about 2, excelled at this only a year later. And since then she just got better and better at that.

From early childhood horses were the only way for her to find peace. The only way to the happiness she always craved. And the only way for her when she felt trapped to feel free.

Even one moment near to the horse made her calmer. The single short horseback ride made her grounded. And when she sent her horse into the gallop she felt stronger, more powerful, happier. And she was good with them.

She could feel how her mind raced with the million questions. How did he know? Who told him about her hobby... passion... getaway... Did he speak with her parents? Nadia? Damien? Tatum...

“Tatum,” explained Blaine as if he could hear her mind, patting his own black horse before stepping back to Denise. “Need help here,” he asked, watching how she easily saddled the horse, making him look at her in awe.

“I’m good here,” she replied, feeling how the thrill rushed through her, waiting for Blaine to saddle his black stallion before they started to move forward side by side. Letting their horses lead the way, walking over the narrow path until the sound of waves started to reach them, revealing in the moment a beautiful narrow beach in front of them.

“Was it your surprise?” after a moment asked Denise, watching at the water. Inhaling the salty smell of the sea, letting the wind mess up her hair and flutter her red dress.

“Thought you would miss it... I mean all of it... your horse... the ocean... freedom, but it’s only part of what I have planned for today. So, race me to the end of the beach?” suddenly said Blaine with the grin, nodding into the distance, where the beach was ending with the cliff digging into the sea.

“You are on, Hayes. You will be eating my dust before you know it,” laughed Denise before sending her chestnut beauty into a gallop without a single warning. Making Blaine’s eyes follow her for a moment longer, admiring the way her body moved. Watching how easily she settled in a perfect galloping position, whispering something into the Chestnut’s ear. Her body’s weight pushed down on to the stirrup, her lower leg kept at the girth and her knees and ankles held springiness, to absorb the galloping movement. Her red dress fluttered on the wind when the Chestnut moved and her melodic laugh rang through the wind, while the water splashed around them.

It took him only a moment or two to admire the view in front of him before he shook himself from the reverie and finally sent his own horse into the gallop easily catching up with Denise, watching how her eyes widened in surprise. Now, moving neck to neck with all might until finally stopping at the end of the beach under the overhanging rock.

“You couldn’t help yourself but have to win,” she pouted getting off Chestnut but not faster than Blaine, feeling his hands around her waist and his hot breath in her ear, while she slid down to the sand.

“Not a chance, querida,” murmured he with a light kiss to her cheek, feeling her back pressing to his chest and her ass brushing along his crotch making him hiss.

“Someone either liked a horse ride a little bit too much or is happy to see me,” she purred, turning to Blaine, making him hiss even more.

“You know, I'm always happy to see you... but it’s not the point and I’m kind of trying to be a gentleman here... so, can you please stop grinding against my hard-on?” groaned Blaine, squeezing her hips in a warning because she brushed her butt against him in a sensual motion once again. Making him finally turn her to face him. “Now... please, stop making him too happy to see you and let’s get moving.”

“Where?”

“It’s not far, just a dozen meters from here behind the cliff,” replied Blaine, nodding to the cliff that was digging into the water, making it look like a ship making its way into the sea. “Don’t worry it isn’t deep,” explained he, noticing how she looked at the water’s edge.

“And what about them?” asked Denise patting the horse she was riding just a moment ago.

“They’ll be fine. They were both raised here. Know these trails even better than I do and they know their way back,” said Blaine giving both horses a sugar cube before gently patting them on their crops, watching how they started to strode in the direction they just got from. Finally extending his hand to Denise, Blaine waited for her to accept it. “Are you ready?” he asked in this smooth velvety tone.

The damn tone that sent the thrill down her spine every time. And the one that made her throat go dry too suddenly, making her feel shy under his intense gaze, and making her ready for impulsive decisions.

Gently Blaine tugged her hand, tearing her gaze from the two powerful animals trotting away from them. Leading her to the waters, stopping just a little bit shy of the waves licking the shore. His firm muscular body crouching in front of her taking off her sandals and then his shoes. The sandals dangling now from her fingers, while he held his shoes, rolling his dark blue jeans to his knees before making the first step into the sea that was still freezing cold at the end of May.

The edge of the cliff that dug into the water cutting the shore in half wasn’t too wide so before Denise could complain about the chilling temperatures or the hem of her dress getting wet they were already on another side and drying. Her fingers curled into the sand and she looked around them, taking in the view. Feeling how Blaine stepped behind her, his hands wrapping around her waist letting her lean into him for a moment before turning her to face him.

“Let’s go,” he whispered in a smoky whisper with his eyes fixed on hers.

“Where now?”

“Just over there,” he nodded to the left and only now when her eyes followed the direction he pointed she noticed a white blanket spread in a distance with a picnic basket on it. And something else... flowers... or more precise baskets of flowers. And she felt how her heart missed a beat... and then another one. Until started to beat in a full force from how romantic whatever Blaine planned looked like.

Slowly he walked her toward the blanket, helping her seat before opening the basket and starting to set a food in front of them, making her mouth instantly to water. She bit her lip watching how he had set a board with different cheeses on it in front of her, before taking a box of nicely cut strawberries and grapes. Everything that she loved. All what he took out was her favourite and her heart beat faster from how thoughtful he was. That he even bothered to take her on a date even though she was his already, despite the fact that he didn’t get her a ring.

“How do you...,” she gasped. Know, sounding more like a whisper and her pulse picking up the speed when he took out the box of the heart shaped french macarons and placed it in the middle. He hated them with the ferocity she didn’t even know was in him, this why she never said that she loved them... never opened her guilty pleasure to him. And still... here he was, placing her most favourite, custom made, most delicious macarons in the world, most hated delicacy by him before gingerly taking the last item from the box. Her favourite flower, making her heart jump and her eyes widen as no one... never done anything like that for her, and she felt the treacherous lump forming in her throat, stubbornly pushing it back and blinking her tears not letting them to fall.

“Someone wants to get laid today or to get blowed,” she murmured jokingly. The laugh ripped out of her throat before she could stop it like a self-defence mechanism that kicked in automatically to protect her from disappointment later. Her hand placed on his thighs and her lips meeting his. But before she could deepen the kiss he stopped it, kissing her softly before moving away.

“I always want to get laid, but today... more than anything I want to take care of you... make sure that you know that I’m here for a long haul,” said Blaine caressing Denise’s cheek with his thumb.

“I already know this. Your rushed after me all the way to the airport to stop me from boarding the plane and your speech kind of made a point. Don’t you think? Plus you hate macarons with the passion, but still, here we are...,” said Denise, nodding toward the box.

“I know, I did, but you better open the box,” suggested Blaine nudging a pink box of macarons toward Denise, feeling how his heart skipped a beat under her scrutinising gaze.

After a minute, that was the most torturous minute in Blaine’s life, consisting of never ending continuous seconds Denise finally reached the box. Her long delicate fingers undone the lace ribbon, and her mouth waters from the single thought of enjoying the treat she missed the most here. Carefully she opened the box and froze... her eyes widened even more, and her heart started to beat a staccato of sounds that was unknown to her.

Never ever did her heart beat like that, while her eyes flew over the macarons in the box. Full box of custom made, heart shaped macarons with different messages and all for her. The proclamation of love in different languages and among them the message on the perfectly rounded five macarons. Will you marry me? The message, that her eyes skipped over and over again, feeling how her heart beat faster every time when her eyes stopped on the beautiful diamond ring sitting on top of the heart shaped lilac macaron with the word Yes! still unable to believe that this is happening. And even more, that he even could have considered that her reply could be anything but Yes, when her eyes stopped on another silver macaron with the reply No! Thinking of how perfect he is, that even though this reply would break his heart he still requested it to be created with an unique taste.

“But you...,” croaked Denise, feeling how the lump inside her throat grew bigger, wondering how long it will take for it to block her airways. Feeling suffocating and trapped, until she felt his comforting touch on her hand. Calming... grounding. Making the lump ease and the raspy voice to leave her throat. “But you... you already proposed. In an airport. When I... when I was leaving...”

“Yes, I did... but I didn’t have a ring then, and I want to make it right.... is this okay with you?” asked Blaine, holding her hands. His thumbs run soothingly over her knuckles. Taking the edge off her, while she slowly nodded and he released a breath of relief he even didn’t realise he was holding. “Good...,” breathed Blaine, kneeling next to Denise, facing her with both of her hands in his. “Denise Alexandra Park... I know that our story didn’t start like every other fairy tales' story. Met a girl, wooed a girl and then swoon her. We met... we had some fun and then we parted. And the only thing I knew about you was the name Alex... and the name of your friend Tatum... it was complicated and then, when I met you again you were engaged to get married in a couple of weeks. And this was the only time left that we were supposed to have. The time that I thought will be enough to get you... that out of my system, but it wasn’t. I couldn’t forget you then and I definitely couldn’t forget you now after waking up near to you for two best weeks of my life. You know I never believed in fairy tales or happy endings, and I know you didn’t either... not after dickheads you were dating,” he chuckled, making her blush and her lips spread into a smile. “But with you... God... with you I know that it is possible. I know you are terrified... but I promise if you will tell me yes...”

“I already...,” tried to interrupt Denise, only for his lips to capture hers to silence.

“As I said, if your reply will be yes, our marriage will never be the golden cage for you, neither will it be to trap you. And I promise to give you all the freedom you need... and all the space you may want... just tell me will you marry me?” 

And she knew that this was her way out, that Blaine not only wanted to make it right but if she wanted to take her Yes... the one she gave him only a couple of weeks ago she could and no matter how much it would break his heart he was ready to risk it... but even to her utter surprise she didn't want it... not now... not ever... not with him. With him she wanted all in, not out.

Denise looked at Blaine with the bated breath, when realisation started to hit her one after another. The thoughts whirled in her mind, while she tried to grub at everything that had happened so quickly and process it, feeling how her pulse started to race with the neckbreaking speed.

Only a few weeks ago she was engaged... doomed to get married to the guy who she didn’t love and who didn’t love her back. And what was supposed to be only a whirlwind romance before her “big day” in a month somehow she ended up with another proposal, this time from the guy she somehow within two week... or was it from the first sight? The thought is so silly that she almost laughed at it. Silly... you don’t believe in love from the first sight... you don’t believe in love at all... not since... Her eyes widened... Shit... she gasped, the kaleidoscope of events was spinning in her brains quicker and quicker...

Their first meeting... their dance... their kiss... threesome... her eyes locked on his through the mirror... his pulsing length in her... sleeping together... then the letter... the tears... the fight with her parents... loveless engagement... the Summit... the sex... the last two weeks filled with sex and passion... then more sex... their fight... him not wanting to let her go... proposal... her muttered Yes!!! Yes!!! Yes!!!... more tears... another two or three weeks of sex and passion... his parents cutting him off... her parents cutting her off... and now another proposal with RING, and two choices she needed to choose from… when in reality here was the only choice she wanted to make.

The panic rising in her and the lump started to build in her throat again until she felt the gentlest squeeze of his hands and she suddenly felt calmer, not suffocating from pressure, more free then she ever felt. Her eyes moving between two choices... one of which she will make in a moment... the one that will change her life forever.

Her hand reached to the one and he closed his eyes to steady his breathing. And if he thought that previous wait for her to open the box was torturous now the single moment felt excruciatingly long, but he still waited patiently not rushing her until he felt something against his lips and he twisted his nose before taking a bite, feeling how his heartbeats slowed… then stopped... then stopped again... before starting to beat anew... reborn, when the lavender lemon taste with a hint of honey exploded on his taste buds, nauseatingly sweet, but SO sweet... the taste of Yes!!!

His eyes flew open meeting hers, smiling... before his lips met hers urgently... passionately. The way it was from the first moments they met. The fire igniting inside them... burning them before Blaine broke the kiss, both panting heavily. His hands reaching to hers taking the heart shaped macaron out of her hands.

“You minx,” he whispered against her lips, smiling, before taking the ring from the macaron and sliding it onto her finger before kissing her again… before loving her… before devouring every single inch of her body with his. Every movement and kiss was a promise… the promise of freedom and the promise of love she was seeking for.

And after the hours they lay together on the white blanket, spent and happy. The food was everything that Denise loved, and Blaine was everything she could ever wish for.

Tagging:

@choices-bound​​​​​ @jamespotterthefirst​​​​​ @mercury84choices​​​​​ @k2624​​​​​ @kowshikha @sophxwithers​ @itsjustwinter @ramseysrookiex​

[fanfoolishness]

Live-blogging the Mandalorian, chapter 11: The Heiress commencing now!

It makes me feel warm and fuzzy to think of Din’s helmet forever being included at the start of a Star Wars thing now!

Poor Din and Grogu and Frog Lady. They are all so wiped out, poor things!

Din, so casually fatalistic. I feel like Grogu has developed a finely tuned sense of when to worry about what his Dad says and when it’s all hyperbole. Judging by Grogu’s reaction to their reentry, it’s clear he considers “if we don’t burn to a crisp” in the hyperbole category.

I love the AT-AT as a crane in the shipyard.

At least the seawater will wash away the spider webs?

This mechanic’s no Peli Motto, that’s for damn sure

Did they have to hide in the cockpit on the way to Nevarro too? I thought the hull had gotten a bit repaired

The Frog family reunited!!! <3

Koska being sooo mysterious, I love her

Okay, yeah, I definitely need to write a little story of Din and Grogu’s room at the inn!

I wonder now if Bo-Katan and the Nite Owls knew there was a ship of Mando-killing Quarrens but weren’t sure which ones, and when Din appeared they could finally avenge the other Mandalorians they had killed after tracking him to them. If that’s so, who were the other Mandalorians they had been looking for? Probably not the case at all though.

Koska’s jetpack kick off the barrels! You see what I mean about the jetpack meta? Creative! Forceful! Skilled! She’s the coolest jetpack user for sure.

Ship o haj, Mandalorians! Absolutely fucking slaps, amazing song

I will never not be over the panic Din must feel in this scene and the way he doesn’t stop panting for the entire interaction with Bo-Katan and her crew

Grogu: “so the helmet comes ALL the way off?”

I know all the cult/anti-cult theory discourse and not trusting Bo-Katan and such and I don’t think Din’s in a CULT per se as I do think there’s an awful lot he hasn’t been told! Was it on purpose to keep Mandalorians ignorant of their past? Or was it due to not having access to resources? I don’t knowwwwww

I keep wanting to write a fic about Din getting ill with aspiration pneumonia after the near-drowning. Maybe he starts feeling poorly after the meeting with Bo-Katan

Love the flex of Koska eating a whole octopus

Depart at first light... doesn’t leave a lot of time for Din to get pneumonia and get better haha... but oh well. Fanfic? Wait, pulmonary edema makes more sense...

I die a little bit of joy every time Din dad voices Grogu

Yaaaaas more Ship o haj!!

Koska using her jetpack again to drop a guy! I love herrrrr

I like how this Imperial officer has a bad tan

The squad: kicking ass. Din: also there, kinda

Just, you know, doing his thing

Again! This crew is used to always fighting openly together and as a unit! Whereas Din has to fight on his own ;_;

Yes I know Bo-Katan changed the terms of the deal and that ain’t cool but y’know what, I still like her

(Says my halfway through season 2 of the Clone Wars ass)

So many chants, This is the Way, Long live the Empire, May the Force be with you

Din: fuck this. Need to get to my foundling.

Also fic idea — Din got more than a little wounded on that suicide run. I mean, come on, did no one at least hit him in the neck?

Din: okay, first you used “This is the Way” sarcastically, and that sucked, but then you used it properly and lo, for I was heartened, and we are allies again.

Aw, Grogu did have fun playing with his new friend without eating him!

Din is so fucking bitter about his ship still being so shitty, I love it

The fact that Mon Calamari apparently sprout netting and ropes the way the ice spiders sprout webs is great

Grogu: “Dad, I knew you would save me!”

The Razor Crest: literally falls apart

Good times! It’ll be nice to see Greef and Cara and the Mythrol next time! The Nevarro crew <3

[ilkkawhat]

Any tips for first time writers? Specifically any tips and tricks for writing CSI stories and the Nick/Greg ship? Trying to stay in character and make the story interesting like a show episode instead of a boring text procedural is hard.

lmao as someone who is forever insecure about my own writing when it comes to keeping the characters in character, I think something to keep in mind is that you may view a character differently than someone else--and sometimes those views align with others, and most of the time it's better than what's presented in canon, and it can be really difficult to get confident about that, but I think that creating anything, even if it's not just writing--drawing, giffing, photo edits, etc, you do know and love that character enough to bring them to life under your hands and it's something that's just so like, poetic about keeping these characters alive, even if the show offed them or the show is cancelled, in these works (honestly the song "poet" by bastille says this best imo) and you may end up discovering parts of yourself as you explore these characters in depth, you'll learn more about them, too, and the more you write, the more confidence you will gain

but be weary of the validation trap (says someone who falls into it literally every time I post a fic)--do not rely on comments and feedback to let you know you're doing it "right." the fact that you're getting thoughts into words onto paper is good enough, and you are good enough and even if you don't end up sharing it, you still did something special that nobody else has done before, and that, is amazing!

I'm not gonna lie, a huge weakness of mine that I feel I've known ever since I started writing CSI fic is that I really don't do well in making cases for the CSIs to work on--and even when I do, the case is usually forgotten by the end of the fic and I end up just kinda focusing on the emotions between the characters and describing their feelings and actions the best I can and unfortunately the plot sometimes suffers because of that.

I guess it really depends on what you want out of your story--do you want a really intriguing case and basically make an episode of CSI, or do you want to kind of bend out of the procedural drama, and just write something fluffy like Nick/Greg going on a roadtrip or something actiony like them getting into some sort of trouble? (as I often do lmao)

Something that does always help me when I do decide I want an actual like, "plot" to the fic beyond just playing around with the characters and making them do things or experience things is that I'll make myself a very flexible outline--which I will admit, at times, does kinda drain the fun out of the actual writing part but I found that I'll try to write chapters/fics in segments in this way, like I'll have the start of a fic, and then when I feel like I need to break but want to write what I got going next, I'll have something in brackets like: [Self deprecation at home/drinking, evil Nick in the mirror?] (for agony), and sometimes maybe a bigger summary, and sometimes less to just kinda remind myself of what I wanted to accomplish with a fic

BUT know that there are gonna be things that pop up sometimes. twists that come to you halfway through a fic--or if you're lucky, you'll find that your reader friends will kinda give you a twist to add in (my fic Last Breath is the greatest example of this--I originally was gonna do like, 12 chapters but then @dannilea said "HEY MK GIVE NICK AMNESIA" and then the fic got doubled in length lmao) so don't feel confined to any sort of outline. go with the flow, go with what feels right for you.

I know it's a lesson I'm still learning myself, but do not pressure yourself with these sorts of things. there are no deadlines. you're not doing anything wrong. if you don't like something you wrote? don't delete it (i've deleted so many things--fics, my entire blog, old art and gifs I did and it's one of my biggest regrets that I carry with me and god...it just hurts) but don't be afraid to tweak, re-write or rework if you need to--I know ao3 has an option where you can even say something is a "remix" of another work if you write a fic and then somewhere down the line, decide to expand on it or change it up? (I think it's meant for that at least, I haven't done that sort of thing....yet)

and that's another thing--you'll always be learning new things as you keep writing. I've been writing since I was like, twelve years old. Had a long ass depressive gap (though I did still write some things, just not...as intensely as I used to) before I came back to the CSI fandom (which I never felt I contributed to before, when I joined tumblr I posted some caps but that was about it, it really wasn't until 2018 that I started giffing and writing and three years later lmao here we are!) and there are just hard lessons you do learn--like I said, the validation trap and pressure and all of that

but motivation wise, something I've been (trying) to do is write at least 100 words per day. Doesn't have to be a specific fic, doesn't have to be anything I intend to make a fic, but just...getting the words flowing. But again, no pressure, because I recently had another depressive bout and went 33 days without writing and it climaxed to me having another mental breakdown swearing I was never gonna write again and damn near deleting everything and giving up.........only to start writing again the next day (and full disclosure, I did have a friend helping me literally every day with that and if they read this, I hope they know how forever grateful I am that they convinced me to keep going and I would not actually be here without them)

You will need to recharge, you will need to be mindful of outside stresses that may be impacting your creative energies. And sometimes, you can try doing things not relating to writing at all. Make a playlist of songs that make you think about the fic; if you can, draw or make photo edits of the fic. find a friend to bounce ideas off of--so many of my fics were enriched by that, I can't even begin to list them all lol.

But above all, again, just know that what you're writing is unique to you, nobody else will be able to write the way you do, and that is just...so special. writing can be difficult, it's exhausting, it's a thankless job at times but when those words start clicking together and your fingers just keep typing/writing, you'll just kinda get this like, rush like nothing I've ever been able to match.

and lmao I know you said specifically CSI and Nick/Greg and feel like I got sidetracked--but the great thing about CSI is I feel like you'll have excuses to put them in situations given their line of work, but like I said before, you can bend out of the genre a little bit. Have Nick and Greg go on a vacation, or make an AU (even something as wild as a sci-fi AU--honestly Specimen Stokes is the most fun I've had in writing the past three years) or if you do want to stick to canon, and don't want to make a whole new case or elaborate on the details--play with an established episode. If there was a Nick focused episode, what was Greg doing and vice versa? Did they talk about things afterwards, or did something happen leading up to the episode that made them act a certain way around each other?

I'll honestly find inspiration also just watching the episodes--something I've been doing in these past few months of my rewatch is making little ficlets about the episode, like I wrote one about Nick and Greg post 6x02 elaborating on the breathplay that Greg hinted about earlier in the episode, or I made a revenge fic for 14x12 where that douchey abusive husband went after Nick, etc. So sometimes it helps to dive back into canon and play in that sandbox too

I hope these tips can help get you started and honestly, don't feel obligated to agree or do any of these things I listed above. We all have different ways of going about writing, and it is just one big learning process and something I don't think I'm ever gonna perfect or master in any sort of way--(not to say I think I'm the worst writer in the world but I just...try to humble myself and not believe I'm the best or better than anybody else cause that's part of the validation trap, you get those ideas in your head and then it can destroy you when you realize you're definitely not)--and there will be times you get heavily discouraged, but...you just gotta keep going. keep pushing. find outside encouragement, but don't rely on it. practice a lot of self care and don't pressure yourself to finish or share or write more than you think you can. just...let it come, and enjoy the ride

I honestly feel like I'm one of the least qualified to say all of these things, but I really do hope it helps and hey, you already got one cheerleader, me, who will be excited to read whatever you share!

[mst3kproject]

The Navy vs the Night Monsters

Of course, it’s not like bad things stop happening now that 2020 is finally over… we just get to start counting again from zero. Kind of like how I’ve started counting thirty-six Episodes that Never Were per year, beginning with this one. It was co-directed by Wyott Ordung from Robot Monster and features familiar faces like Russ Bender and Mamie Van Doren, the latter for once not playing a teenage delinquent.  It also has one really obscure MST3K connection: it was based on a story by Murray Leinster, which the sharp-eyed will remember as the name of the ship attacked by Evil Count Zarth Arn’s lava lamp weapon at the beginning of Starcrash!

A plane carrying specimens of Antarctic flora and fauna makes a rather rough and unexpected landing at a naval base on remote Gow Island in the south Pacific.  There appears to be nobody on board except the pilot and a few penguins – the former is in a catatonic state, and the latter are... well, penguins... so what happened to the rest of the passengers and crew is a complete mystery.  Did the pilot go mad and kill them?  Did the penguins?  Or did it have something to do with those mysterious ancient trees discovered growing around a geothermal spring in the heart of the frozen continent?

The first ten minutes of this movie are spent trying to be a comedy.  Before we get anywhere near the plot, we first have to listen to the guys on the plane try to be funny about their lunch and their tastes in women.  Then on the island, we watch a guy who can’t seem to figure out how to inflate a balloon, followed by a dude talking to his dog, and then a really icky bit where two women convince a man he had sex with both of them, which he buys because he was too drunk to remember.  Only then do we finally establish what’s actually going on.  The impression one gets from this beginning is that The Navy vs the Night Monsters is going to be peopled entirely by Jackass Comic Relief characters, and I actually turned the film off and sat on it for a couple of days to psych myself up to watch the rest.

When I finally turned it back on, to my relief the movie turned out not to be quite that bad, but it’s still pretty damned bad.  The dull and unfunny opening is followed by an abrupt shift of tone, as a man maddened by terror jumps from the plane to his death!  The only thing set up by the opening that turns out to be relevant is Spaulding the meteorologist’s crush on Nora the nurse, when she’s in love with the base’s second in command, Lieutenant Brown.

I complain frequently about useless love triangles in movies.  This one is very useless, and all the more so because the script totally forgets to resolve it.  Spaulding hates Gow Island but stays because he’s in love with Nora – he wants her to go back to Miami with him and marry him.  When he puts this idea to her, however, it becomes obvious that Nora can’t stand him, and it’s clear enough why: Spaulding is an asshole and he treats Nora not as a partner but as a possession.  Never does he show any sort of tenderness towards her.  Every time they speak to each other, he seems to end up shouting, and his jealousy of Brown repeatedly leads to violence.

Brown, on the other hand, treats Nora with respect and actually shows vulnerability around her.  He’s been left in charge while the base’s commander is on the mainland attending an important meeting, and he’s really feeling the pressure as the base is surrounded by tree monsters in the dark.  He talks about his anxiety and Nora comforts him, and the audience rolls their eyes because it’s perfectly obvious which of these guys she’s going to pick.  And sure enough, at the end she’s in Brown’s arms… but nothing about the whole situation is exactly resolved.

Brown and Spaulding did get in a fist fight, though it wasn’t explicitly over Nora, but nobody ever talks about the problem. Spaulding never realizes that he’s treated Nora badly, and it never seems to even occur to him that she might prefer Brown over him, or even that she has emotions or preferences at all.  He definitely never seems to understand that he’s lost.  Brown and Nora seem to feel a need to hide their love affair from the other base staff, but we’re never given a reason why (although I guess ‘Spaulding’s a dick’ is reason enough).  Nora never tells Spaulding that she prefers Brown… maybe she’s afraid he’ll assault her?  I hate everything about this situation, but nothing more than the fact that as the movie progresses we get hints that Nora may be warming up to Spaulding, as if she’s supposed to consider these two guys equal contenders for her affections!  Fuck everybody who wrote this, seriously.

It’s kind of sad to see Mamie Van Doren in a role like this after meeting her in things like Untamed Youth and Girls Town.  Those movies were gross and exploitative, but Mamie’s characters were central to their plots and she filled those shoes reasonably well.  She wasn’t Oscar material but for what the films were, she was enough to carry them.  The Navy vs the Night Monsters is a little closer to being a ‘real movie’, but in this respect it represents a step down for her, as she is relegated to being something for two men to fight over.  Furthermore, Silver from Girls Town and Penny from Untamed Youth were both characters who required some range – Nora the nurse mainly spends the whole movie being annoyed with the men in her life.  Van Doren could have done much more if anyone had bothered asking it of her.

Let’s see… what else do I hate about this movie? I hate Private Chandler, the guy who stays a Jackass Comic Relief character once that opening is over. Shockingly, The Navy vs the Night Monsters actually kills him off, but he’s not nearly as annoying as Dropo or the guy from Outlaw, so his death merely feels mean rather than having any entertainment value.  The guy was just about to actually get laid by one of the women who’d made fun of him earlier – though she, like Spaulding, showed no sign of being sorry for past jerkitude.

I hate the monsters.  Normally I have a soft spot for plant monsters.  They’re a cliché in their own way, I guess, but they’re a fun idea.  The ones in The Navy vs the Night Monsters kill and digest people with acidic sap, and a character theorizes about how and why such a thing would evolve, which is cool. The execution, however, sucks. While the poster for the film shows us a humanoid Treebeard-looking thing, the actual monsters in the film are dumb-looking stumps that waddle along like a couple of guys trying to move a piece of furniture corner-by-corner because it’s too heavy to lift.  The result reminds me of The Creeping Terror, in that you have to want to get eaten by these things.  At one point a guy walks right up to one, inspects it, and escapes its clutches merely by backing away slowly!

The trees reproduce using insect-like larvae that are, themselves, lethally venomous.  This is also a neat idea which is, once again, ruined by the execution. The tiny ones are being pulled along the floor by a sometimes-visible string, and then they grow into stumps that look like they should be stools around a boy scout campfire, which move even slower than the adult trees!  There’s a scene where the characters are holed up in the base under an onslaught of these, with planes arriving to napalm them just in time, and it is ludicrous in its attempt to feel threatening.

I do like that Gow Island is a bleak middle-of-nowhere rather than a tropical paradise.  The landscapes kind of remind me of the Falkland Islands, though the weather on Gow is evidently better.  You can see why some of the characters hate it here, surrounded by barren scrub inhabited mostly by ten thousand smelly, raucous seabirds. Unfortunately this backdrop makes the ‘comedy’ opening seem even more out of place, though it’s also kind of nice that they didn’t give us any stereotyped ‘natives’ as either comedy or monster fodder.

As for a theme… well, The Navy vs the Night Monsters is clearly about an invasive species.  The biologist, in suggesting how the tree monsters evolved, points out that they are suited to the hostile environment of Antarctica in ways that make them nearly unstoppable anywhere else.  We’re told that they devoured all the penguins the scientists were bringing back for study, and as well as eating the people, they wreak havoc among the Gow Island seabirds and reproduce out of control.  The parallels to things like cane toads in Australia, or housecats just about anywhere, are obvious.

This isn’t something the characters care about, though, even the ones who profess to be scientists.  At the end, enough of the trees are destroyed that the humans can safely evacuate, and what happens after that is clearly Gow Island’s problem, not humanity’s. I really would have liked to see the script go into this a little more, but then, The Navy vs the Night Monsters is not a movie that wants to go into anything, even stuff it sets up in some detail.

At the end, The Navy vs the Night Monsters feels pretty half-assed.  Somebody wanted to make a movie, and then put in the bare minimum effort possible to have all the parts present.  They clearly understood how movies work, but they didn’t have the money and didn’t want to go to the trouble.  The result is deeply mediocre.  There’s a few laughs out of the dumb stump creatures, but mostly it’s just bad.

[risingsouls]

Recruited: Chapter 20

[I hope ya’ll are ready for the feels. To no one’s surprise considering how canon plays out, this chapter has no happiness. Changed a few canon things to fit better or just make better sense of canon, but nothing major, and it gets a little graphic but this is DBZ. SO! Have fun!  😈

As usual, you can find the rest of this fic and other things I’ve written over here!]

Nabooru

Each of Frieza's transformations proved more terrifying than the last. Vegeta drove him to the first by proving his mettle and informing him he knew of his big secret and he should get it over with. While likely inevitable, for if Vegeta continued to push him toward defeat, Frieza would have transformed anyway, the mistake was felt immediately: Frieza impaled Krillin with his horn and easily recovered from an all out assault from Gohan. She and Vegeta attempted a counter of their own after he dealt with the hybrid, but frustratingly failed to make a dent even with a combined attack. The prince tried to flee once (much to her annoyance and disappointment), only to be thwarted by the bloodthirsty tyrant. Piccolo, the mentor Gohan mentioned and who they revived before the dragonballs went inert, arrived and pushed the newly transformed Frieza to take on yet another horrific transformation with a chilling boost to his enormous power. Piccolo and Gohan both failed to take on the monstrosity and, fearing the rising power of the two Saiyans, threatened a third transformation with a promise that it was his most fearsome yet.

The pounding of her heart deafened her, the squabble between Krillin and Vegeta muffled as if she listened in from beneath the emerald waves below them. She could sense the beginnings of Frieza's rise in power, and though stopping it somehow crossed her mind, fear and the fact that she reasonably couldn’t paralyzed her. They couldn't scratch him in his last form, so what hope did they have with yet another transformation?

He meant to end them. He was finished toying with them.

Gold eyes closed for one, two seconds, then reopened to focus on the pair floating next to her. Discussing a plan. Vegeta wanted Krillin to mortally wound him and have the Namekian child heal him. Krillin refused and refused again.

Despite her own exhaustion and wounds from her bouts with Frieza, no matter how short, orange energy flared in her hand. It extended outward and shaped itself into a long sword, her fingers wrapped around its hilt of light. Desperate. Risky. Stupid. But another boost in Vegeta's power was their last chance at survival. Each boost he had gotten since Earth had been significant. But would this one be enough?

"Vegeta." 

The Saiyan whipped around to face her. The annoyance in his features contorted to surprise and pain as she drove the ki blade into his middle, armor, flesh, and muscle pierced through to the other side. He coughed up blood, but wore a pained grin. She squeezed her hand and the blade dissipated and the prince fell to the planet's surface.

She only spared Krillin a glance in the midst of his protest, her attention better served monitoring Vegeta. He limped toward Dende who trembled in fear. The Saiyan collapsed and reached a blood-stained out toward the Namekian, but the child remained rooted to the spot.

"Something's wrong." Heart in her throat and stomach in her chest, she descended, landing next to Vegeta.

"This is...our only chance...damn it," Vegeta wheezed. Fingers dug into the dirt and he yanked himself another few inches forward, as far as his remaining strength would allow. "Don't you...get it?"

Dende quivered and tears shone in his eyes. His lip trembled, but his gaze and stance was resolute. And then it hit her: Dende refused to heal Vegeta. Not because he was scared of him, not fully at least. But because of how he murdered his people. How she had done the same. 

Their last hope denied. Vegeta would bleed out because of her attack. And she couldn't blame the kid one bit.

"I...I can't do it. I won't do it!"

Nabooru barely noticed him fly off in the other direction as she sank to her knees next to Vegeta. She pressed her hand over the hole in his back and carefully flipped him over onto his back, ignoring his curses and protests. She held her hand over the other hole in his abdomen, applying pressure to both sides, resting his head in her lap.

"Don't you dare die on me," she hissed, crimson staining her ivory gloves. Unshorn tears blurred her vision and she blinked them away. She wasn't sure if they were for him or their overall defeat after a hard fought battle. "Not like this…"

He snorted. "Funny coming from the woman who just stabbed me and has been waiting to since I told you about Nappa…" He chuckled and immediately winced. "At least you had the courtesy to not literally stab me in the back this time…"

"That did make it easier. And the fact that you're still delusional enough to believe I wanted to work with Frieza over you is pathetic." Krillin floating downward flicked her gaze upward for a second, but no more. She stared into his face, his heavy lidded eyes, brow furrowed and frown deep from his pain and annoyance. "The ship's not far. If I hurry, I can get you into the tank before Frieza finishes."

She started to lift him, but he growled, "Stop. It's hopeless, woman. We're done for." He clicked his tongue and tried to push himself up on his elbows only for his arms to give out beneath his weight and his head to collapse back into her lap.

"It's not! You can heal and--"

"And what? What do you plan to do in the meantime? You were far less a match for him than me."

She swallowed a sob and brushed away a fresh wave of frustrated tears. Blood smeared her cheek. "Shut up. You're wasting your energy. I'm taking you to the ship and that's final!"

"Tch...so...damn stupid…" 

If he had anything else to say, his loss of consciousness stopped him. Nabooru moved to lift him once more only to pause when Krillin, Dende, Gohan, and a newly-healed Piccolo landed near them. She stared them down, a wounded animal cornered and desperate. Unsure if they came to further harm them or aid.

"Please…" She bit her lip and her head drooped,  feeling her pride rage against the idea of remotely begging, especially on behalf of the proud Saiyan prince, but she had to try to appeal to them. For now they had a common enemy that needed to be stopped, and the enslaved Saiyan prince not only deserved his vengeance, but was their final hope of defeating him.

Nabooru lifted her head again. "I know I'm in no position to ask you anything. Neither of us are nor do we deserve your help. We murdered your people and you are well within your rights to deny us." She glanced to Krillin and then locked her gaze with Dende's. "If you heal him, he'll be stronger when he wakes up. Possibly strong enough to finish Frieza off for good. This is our last chance. Not only for us but for the universe…"

Dende squeezed his eyes shut and looked up to Krillin. "I know I've asked a lot of you today, but she's right, Dende." He glanced to the pair of them with a slight grimace. "I know these two are rotten, but Frieza makes them look like a couple of bunny rabbits. You...you saw what he did to me. What he and his men did to your village."

"It's alright, kid," Piccolo rumbled, voice different than she remembered. "They may be scum, but we need Vegeta if we hope to win this."

Seconds passed and Dende finally left Krillin's side to trudge over to him. Nabooru removed her shaking hands and Dende rested both of his on Vegeta's chest. A warm, orange glow emanated from them and encompassed Vegeta's body. The hole in his abdomen mended itself, and any other scrapes and bruises disappeared. His eyes fluttered open, and he stared first up at the amazed Gerudo and then glanced to the child.

He pushed himself up to a seated position, observing his hands. Tightening them into fists and flexing his fingers again. The corner of his lip tilted upward as he rose to his feet. "It's about damn time, brat." He kicked Dende away from him and walked away, frame shaking with his laughter. "You’re lucky I’m in a good mood. Now that I’ve finally ascended to the legendary status of Super Saiyan."

"Super jerk is more like it," Nabooru heard Krillin mutter as she, too, rose to her feet again and strode over to Dende. Gentle as she could manage, gentler than perhaps she had been in the greater portion of her life, she lifted the child by his waist and set him back on his feet. He wiped tears from his face with his sleeve and refused to look at her.

"Thank you, Dende."

He refused to meet her gaze but captured one of her hands in his. "I should heal you, too. Just in case."

Nabooru nodded and kept still. His hand warmed and she felt the aches and pains subside, the wounds she sustained beginning to mend. Only for it all to halt with a suddenness she couldn't fathom. Dende's already light grip went limp and his tiny hand slipped from hers. His body slumped to the ground, motionless. 

Then she felt it. That steadily rising energy had leveled off at a gargantuan height, the pressure of it enough to make her nauseous. She turned slowly, catching the same confusion written on the Earthlings' visages as her own, until she spotted the tyrant newly transformed, a finger raised and aimed where the fallen child once stood. Though the most unassuming of each of his forms--shorter in stature, sleeker, unadorned with the thick plating or horns of the others--this form struck her deeper than even the one that she became accustomed to throughout her service, that plagued her nightmares.

Enraged, Gohan wasted no time springing to action. Piccolo and Krillin followed suit. Unable to sit back and watch herself, she powered up and dashed forward. Despite the four of them fighting in tandem with every ounce of power and skill they had, none of their blows landed, each one dodged by immeasurable speed. Even when they pulled back and each fired a ki-based attack, the smoke cleared to reveal an unfazed Frieza, smirking in the face of their ill-fated attempt to bring him down and avenge Dende. Nabooru had to fight the slump of her shoulders as she fought to regain her breath, the sting of tears as her heart began to break for their failure.

"Look out!"

She saw nothing but the explosion of rock and debris of an island across the way, and Vegeta shoving Gohan from what she could only assume was a second attack akin to the one that killed Dende. Sure enough, Freiza's fingers aimed where Gohan once stood. Vegeta picked the boy back up by his armor and shoved him back toward the others. "Pay attention, idiots!"

"I...I didn't even see…"

Piccolo growled. "None of us saw it except Vegeta somehow." He spat. "Maybe he really does have a chance. I can't believe I had to say that…"

Gohan stood again and dusted himself off. “Thank you, Vegeta. You saved us.”

Nabooru only dared glance away from the tyrant when Vegeta responded, answer as cocky as expected. “I didn’t save you. None of you are even worth the effort.” His smirk returned. “I merely need witnesses to my new power.”

A crimson brow twitched, and the Gerudo fought the overwhelming urge to roll her eyes. The only fact that stopped her was that there was truth to it all: he didn’t care for any of them and would likely kill them all once he finished with Frieza, and he proved he was indeed stronger after taking her ki blade to the gut as the only one to take note of Frieza’s attempt on Gohan’s life. Though he still repressed his energy, she could feel the pulse of it beating against its cage’s walls as he struggled to maintain that control in the wake of his own excitement.

“Just make him pay, Vegeta,” she said with dark conviction, slowing his forward momentum a step or two and earning her a sidelong glance. “You deserve it more than anyone I know, and he deserves to die. For all that he’s done.”

So you can be free. So I can go home or die with some semblance of peace.

“Hmpt...you’re right about the first part.” He chuckled. “But I don’t care about the rest. It’s time to exact the revenge I promised myself since I was a child.”

"Such big talk, but I wonder if you can back it up, Vegeta.” Frieza interrupted. All eyes snapped to him. “I had no intentions of killing you first and hoped to save the best for last, but since you have the strongest desire for the embrace of death, I’ll grant it to you as a final gift from me.”

"We'll see who dies here, Frieza." Unlike her and the others, Vegeta wore a triumphant smirk as he approached his adversary, and his eyes gleamed with glee and malice. "You're about to face the legend you've feared for so long. Introducing for the first time, Super Saiyan Vegeta!”

There was no denying the shock that crossed the emperor’s features, but it quickly shifted to a coy and taunting chuckle. “Oh? Well forgive me for not trembling where I stand, Super Saiyan, but I fail to be impressed thus far.”

“Then witness what true power looks like!”

Power finally unleashed in the wake of raging lightning and the blinding flare of his blue-white aura, flickering with gold. Nabooru ascended with the others for his opening attack, flaring that energy out toward Frieza in an explosion. It left him unmarred but the Saiyan remained undeterred. He shot forward with an onslaught of ruthless attacks, forcing Frieza on the defensive and raising the spirits of Krillin and Gohan for a swift victory. The Gerudo, however, chewed her lip as each blow failed to find a mark, and Frieza showed little concern no matter how close a fist or kick came to slamming into his person. As they took to the air for the continuation of the fight, she could only silently and begrudgingly agree with Piccolo: Vegeta did not have the upper hand. Frieza’s speed proved far superior, exemplified by how evaded their perception so easily, leaving Vegeta searching helplessly for him until the tyrant made himself known.

Switching tactics and declaring that the battle was far from over, Vegeta fired a barrage of ki blasts in pursuit of Frieza, each exploding in fiery chaos. Though, no matter how deadly accurate his aim, Frieza evaded each blast by a slim but enough of a margin to escape. In a blink, he appeared before the four of them. Nabooru shook off her stunned paralysis and realized his strategy of placing them in the line of fire. Piccolo noted the same and, grabbing the other two Earthlings, they darted out of the blasts’ range. A glance over her shoulder and she saw Frieza dodge and a series of explosions where the four of them once hovered.

Another island served as their temporary sanctuary. She could feel the Saiyan’s aggravation and shock from the distance as another attack failed to leave even a scratch on his enemy. Heart pounding and sweat beading on her forehead around her headpiece, she willed him to keep fighting, that this couldn’t be all he had in him. She only wished she could do more than plant herself on the sidelines. She wanted nothing more than to fight and help topple Frieza once and for all. Though it killed her to admit, she simply wasn’t strong enough. She had no choice but to leave it to the Saiyan prince.

The sky darkened as Vegeta once more powered up, gold aura shifting to a purple hue and his energy soaring to new heights that shook the planet. The others worried over him destroying it and all of them with it, but the Gerudo continued her silent urging to take whatever steps he needed to ensure Frieza’s demise. He fired the blast toward Frieza who, to Nabooru’s unease, stood still as stone. Only when the full-powered attack inched ever closer did he finally move. He swung his leg back and punted the blast back, narrowly missing the originator. It exploded high in the atmosphere. Power nearly fully drained from the planet-busting attack, Vegeta hung in the air, limbs limp and posture bowed. The picture of absolute defeat.

“No…it can’t be over...” Nabooru breathed, disbelief and frustration with everything--Vegeta’s useless assault no matter his increases in strength, all their effort to secure the dragonballs and immortality, her own helplessness--vocalized. She shook with rage and anguish knowing what came next before Frieza shot into the air again. She growled and shouted to the heavens, “Vegeta, please! Move!”

Whether he heard her pointless plea or not hardly mattered in his state, and Frieza’s cranium connected with his jaw to send him flying upward. The tyrant made chase and sent the prince soaring into the sparkling sea with a devastating whip of his tail. Water cascaded upward where he fell, and Nabooru heard Piccolo reprimand Gohan for attempting a rescue, citing the futility of it. Unable to accept such herself, the Gerudo sprang forward, ready to leap into the depths and yank him from a watery grave only for a flare of light fired in her direction to divert her, forcing her to dive out of its path to avoid her own demise.

“Now, now...” Nabooru pushed herself up onto her elbows from her graceless sprawl to stare over at Frieza, her lip curled upward in a snarl. He perched on a small outcropping jutting from the sea, just over where Vegeta drifted downward toward the seabed. “You’ll get your turn. Have some patience, Nabooru.”

She slammed her fist in the grass with a growl and pushed up to her feet again, watching the emperor pushed the sea outward with a flourish of his arms. He descended downward to where Vegeta lay near unconscious. He lifted him by the hair, and she fought between tearing her eyes from the brutal display and his pained cries with each punch dealt to his low back and springing into action again to put a stop to it. Instead, she did neither, even when he released Vegeta and kicked him back into the air, dropped his elbow into his abdomen multiple time, and dropped him back to the ground in front of her with another punishing kick. She stood frozen to her patch of grass and watched in helpless torment.

Frieza landed next to Vegeta, tail coiling around his neck and squeezing with bone-crunching force that made her stomach lurch. He continued his wanton torture with another round blows to the Saiyan’s back, each one more punishing than the last. Each scream more agonizing and gut-wrenching. It was torture, plain and simple. The tyrant turned Vegeta into his personal punching bag, hoisted by his tail, and the louder Vegeta’s cries, the more he renewed his vigorous punches. Fire flared inside her, orange energy flaring high around her and burning the tears from her eyes and off her cheeks. She roared in fury and shot toward Frieza, arm raised and aimed to strike Frieza in the jaw to end his gleeful torture. No matter his flaws, his crimes, the Saiyan didn’t deserve this and she wouldn’t stand by and watch Frieza take joy in his, of all people’s, torment. If Vegeta deserved punishment for all he did, for the orchestrator of many of those crimes and a tyrant of worse repute to do it was merely a cosmic joke in bad taste. She had witnessed enough of Frieza's ruthless cruelty as his general, and now, with her tyranny revealed, she didn’t feel so keen on letting it continue this time.

He caught her wrist with ease, as if she had attacked in slow motion. His grip tightened, her bones creaking under the pressure, and she bit back a cry, refusing to give him the satisfaction of her pain. Scarlet eyes rested on her as he yanked her forward and gripped her neck in a suffocating chokehold. Onyx nails bit into her flesh, and she felt blood trickle down to her collar.

“You interrupt me again, Nabooru? Don’t tell me you still care for him after all the miserable things he said about you?” Nabooru swung her leg outward, only for Frieza to bat it away with his free hand. He glanced back to Vegeta and clicked his tongue. “Fine, then. Vegeta, if you’re still conscious, know we’ll finish up our little fun once I deal with my pretty little general.”

With his tail, he flung the Saiyan into a nearby plateau, and he crumpled to the ground at its base. A single relief, at least. Whatever torture awaited her, at least Vegeta would get a reprieve. A chance to survive if they were lucky enough and she could keep Frieza's attention long enough. A stupid, optimistic thought in her slowly blacking mind. Luck was not their friend. It never had been.

Her mouth instinctively opened to gulp in lungfuls of fresh air when the grip on her throat loosed and left it. She found her footing for half a second before Frieza's knee buried itself in her abdomen, shattering the armor covering it. Sharp pain to her back--his elbow--drove her face down at his feet, face and body slamming the hard ground. She tasted the copper tang of blood on her tongue.

Nabooru shifted up onto her elbow and lifted her head, only for the force of the emperor's foot on top of it to force her face back into the dirt. "Was it Vegeta who poisoned you against me, or was that your own brand of pride and stupidity?" His toes curled on her scalp, and she heard his tail slither next to her. It slammed down on her outstretched forearm. Nabooru screamed into the dirt as the bone shattered, the eruption of pain adding to the accumulation of it dealt since Dende healed her. "Either way, look where it got you."

She tried to spit out the cocktail of blood and dirt from her mouth but found little room to do so. She idly considered how shameful it was to choke on her own blood and spit and some mud. 

Finally, the pressure on her head subsided. She coughed and shakily pushed herself up on her good arm, the other dangling at her side. She didn't dare look at it, already feeling its unnatural angle. Her weight felt too heavy, but she refused to wallow in the dirt before him if she could help it. She would stand again if she could manage and die on her feet.

"I did not intend to divulge this tidbit of information I've been sitting on for a while now; I wanted to save it for the most opportune moment. But since you're going to die...well, there's no sense not to." The tip of his tail glided along her cheek, and a chill of disgust coursed through her body. She wanted to tear the damn thing off of him.

He clicked his tongue. "Oh, but how best to say this? I've never been great at delivering such wretched news. I lack that gentle touch." Nabooru pushed herself up to one knee then to her feet. Hunched over and cradling her broken arm but upright. "No use sugar-coating, I suppose. Your planet was destroyed, Nabooru, and your entire race went with it."

The universe screeched to a halt around her. It felt as though Frieza had driven both hands into her chest and wrenched it open. Her knees threatened to give out on her in the quivering, and she had to cover her mouth to stifle a sob.

"No...no you're lying...you're just…" She swallowed hard and wished she hadn't looked into his face, the self-satisfied smirk on his face all too proud. "They can't be…"

"Why would I lie about such a tragic occurrence?" Frieza nodded to Vegeta, who managed to push himself up and support his weight on a shaky elbow. "He witnessed the whole thing. Did the job himself, in fact."

Blood-stained lips parted with her dropped jaw, and her eyes widened and shifted to the prince. He stared at the pair of them, eyes half closed in his exhaustion but conscious enough to show his own shock. Nabooru couldn't tell if it was for being outed or it was somehow news to him, too. She stuttered through another half coherent interrogation as she struggled to catch up, to make sense of it all, the tempest of rage, despair, and both physical and emotional pain making it difficult to process much of anything. But all she could fathom with certainty was that her home and people had all been destroyed. How long had she been playing Frieza's game, following his orders and committing heinous acts to protect them in vain? How much blood had she spilled with the intent of holding up her end of the deal he made with Ganondorf and her race as a whole only for it to be broken anyway? What happened? Where had she failed? How did Vegeta play into this? Why couldn't she do the one thing she devoted her whole life to?

Frieza scoffed and rolled his eyes. "As expected. This wasn't nearly as exciting when you're both half dead. I was hoping to use that someday to set you both at each other's throats for a little entertainment when things grew too dull." He waved a hand as Nabooru finally managed to straighten up to some degree, panting with the effort. "Since you'll both die, I suppose I can allow you to perish hating each other a little less: he did it on my orders and without knowledge of what planet he destroyed. I suppose the ill will and distrust I planted within the two of you when I made you a general will have to suffice when I look back with disgust on these last few years."

The nonchalance with which he spoke, as if he detailed the plot of a book he read, prodded the rage building inside her. Her fingers curled into her palm, the nails on her exposed index and middle fingers puncturing leather and biting into her flesh. Frieza played them. Used them for his own entertainment. Tore her from the team she found her only minimal solace in as her soul was slowly ripped to shreds and she found difficulty in continuing on more often than not. Unsurprising, but on top of promoting her for her appearance rather than her merit as a warrior, that burning slight to her pride, her hatred for him soared to new heights. 

"In your babbling I believe I heard you ask why I killed your people." Burning gold met smug crimson when he spoke again. "I thought when I told Vegeta, it would serve as a cautionary tale for him moving forward to not cross me. But monkeys truly cannot be taught. If you wish to divert blame from yourself, place it solely on the shoulders of your former king. A fool who thought he could attain the power of some mystical relic to overthrow me. I applaud his ambitions but I owned that planet, I owned him and the rest of your pathetic excuse of a race. If anyone was to be granted such power through a relic on one of my planet's, it should be me. And, as you are witnessing here, I do not take kindly to willfully keeping extravagant secrets of power from me, especially when one plans to use it to unseat me from my undisputed throne."

She wanted to be angry with the Gerudo king. Beyond irritated that Ganondorf did not abandon his search for the Triforce despite their victory over Hyrule. But her rage found purchase on another foothold in Frieza and how he murdered her people and spoke ill of them after the fact. Rage burned hotter in the near hollowed out shell the news of their fate left her as. Power and rage rising and rising, bursting forth from her body. Concentrated to her hand and shot with a roar toward Frieza. Every ounce of ki in her fired in a devastating swath, tearing into the earth and bursting through the sea. Her body shook with the effort once the orange flare subsided. Her vision doubled as she searched for the corpse in the deep divot her attack created. Waited for the waves to wash him up on shore. Nothing. All that. And she missed.

She sensed him behind her a moment too late. His hand tangled into her ponytail and he yanked her backward, straight into the fist aimed for the small of her back. Her cry was cut short by a swift roundhouse to her side, sending her flying into the plateau. She sank to the ground a few meters away from where Vegeta lay, catching herself on her shaking good arm.

Frieza's feet appeared in front of her. "With that business out of the way, I suppose we should finish up here. I've kept poor Vegeta waiting long enough."

Nabooru began another grueling attempt to stand, her energy all but tapped and pain rippling through her with even the most minute movements. She pushed up to one knee and nearly toppled onto her side. She grit her teeth and tried again. "I see your potential, Nabooru, and, considering I have awarded Vegeta with chance after chance to prove his usefulness and loyalty to me, it is only fair I do the same for you." He grasped her ponytail again and gave it another harsh tug and she bit her lip to stifle her whimper. Her head fell limp when he released it, her body doubling over her knee. "Pledge your allegiance to me and beg for forgiveness before these witnesses. Look upon your one true ruler to whom you pledge your undying loyalty and I will spare your miserable life and allow you to continue serving me."

Even if she trusted Frieza's word, even if she could return to her duties on the force without issue once Namek was behind them, everything in her screamed its refusal. She had no reason to comply. He obliterated the one tie keeping her loyal and obedient to his wishes no matter how his orders grated against the fragile morality she tried to maintain. He likely knew that, and potentially expected her to refuse. Hoped she would. And maybe in the grand scheme of it all, she never had to. She could have succumbed to an "accident" as she fantasized about with each mission she was sent on. If it would always amount to her beloved home being destroyed no matter her efforts, no matter how well she followed orders, how efficiently she killed and conquered, what use was agreeing to that stupid deal, anyway? At least she would have died alongside her people, surrounded by the beautiful, golden sands she adored and the heat of the sun beating down and warming her skin. Instead, she would die amongst mostly strangers and in a land she did not know. Broken and beaten, but maintaining the only shred of pride and dignity she managed to nurture and keep alive over the last several years of her life.

She always had a bit of rebellious streak, one that she quashed more often than not during her service in the force and only allowed to shine through in a sassy comment or prodding an argument with her former captain. Once promoted, she had to dim it further, constantly curb her sharp tongue, laugh at racist or degrading jokes she didn't think were funny, and agree to every one of the tyrants whims without question no matter how horrific or frivolous. A final act of defiance. One she hoped would sting, if only for a moment. A final, if not small comfort in all this, in facing a less than glamorous death. She would go down fighting. Perhaps not in the physical way she always assumed, always wanted as a proud Gerudo warrior, but fighting nonetheless.

A fresh wave of tears streamed down her face and a half sob, half laugh tore at her raw throat. Her lips curved upward. She let her other knee join its mate and turned her head away from Freiza. Toward Vegeta to her side. He stared at her, unblinking and so motionless she thought he had succumbed to his injuries after all. It hurt to see the proud prince of all Saiyans in such a state, wounded to the point of near paralysis. Beaten down by the very abuser he sought to exact revenge on his whole life. A tenacious and steadfast warrior, patient in waiting for his time to strike no matter the crimes against him, the slurs and humiliation heaped on him and his cohorts. She had never seen anyone or anything deter Vegeta so completely and drive him to such a deep hopelessness that he refused to continue fighting. But considering his history with Frieza, his firsthand knowledge of what horrors Frieza was capable of enacting both on him and others, ran deep, all the way down to the roots of his childhood. Despite how everything went, how his best laid plans were foiled time and again since arriving on this planet and how it would end in death for him, she admired him for trying. For wanting to take back his life and agency from an unstoppable force like Frieza when so many others lacked the fortitude and drive to even try.

Maybe it had always been a fever dream to believe they could achieve victory and topple Frieza on their own. There was no happy ending here. Not for her. Not for him. There was no tidy vengeance for the fates of their respective races. And maybe that's because neither of them really deserved one. If the universe hadn’t made that glaringly obvious before Namek, before Freiza even, these last few minutes proved it. Her last hope was simply that her final message to the emperor and the prince rang loud and clear. Frieza asked her to look to the one she would swear loyalty to, so that's exactly what she did.

--------------

Vegeta

Vegeta was no stranger to violence. To the sight of it or inflicting it himself. But even he flinched at the strike of Frieza's tail on the back of her neck. The snap of her spine. That eerily calm smile on her lips faded, bloodied mouth parting in a shocked O. The light, that fire, faded from her eyes. Her body slumped to the side only to halt halfway to the ground, a pale hand tipped with pitch talons wrapped around the strap of her armor and keeping her from falling over. Her head lolled back with an unnatural lack of support.

"Perhaps this can be a lesson to all of you." Frieza tossed Nabooru's body next to him. Her head fell to the side, her sightless gaze resting on him. "Never choose a weak and foolish monkey to place your loyalty and trust in."

He wanted to belittle her, call her an idiot for interfering, for not just taking the damn offer from Frieza, to shake her back to life just so he could tell her all these things and more. But all he felt was the burn of those shameful tears again. Her dying here like this reflected his own failure to stop Frieza himself. Whether or not he would let her live himself he could never decide with certainty. He convinced himself she wanted the promotion, painted it as treachery and a betrayal of the ounce of trust he had in her, to make it easier on himself. A lie he forced himself to believe to the point he didn't question it. He knew deep down it wasn't true, seeing her in the flesh after over a year an unforgiving reminder. But rage was easier to stomach and understand than the emotions that threatened to overwhelm him when Frieza shared the news of her new position. Rage didn't hurt. Rage reminded him he planned to dole out the same fate to her once he tore Frieza from his lofty throne, but the strange clarity that came with facing one's demise whispered that it wasn't true. Another lie he told himself, perhaps, because it felt like the right thing to do. The just thing in a mind so warped and confused no matter the evidence that pushed back on such a permanent punishment for the Gerudo.

All or it to drive a wedge between them and make their already miserable lives even more unbearable. All for his amusement. How deep did that plot run? All the way back when he placed her on his team? With what happened on Trimbon? When he asked Vegeta to destroy a planet he never named because its people had grown too troublesome, and one he never thought to ask the name of? Perhaps even when he recruited her in the first place. He said from the beginning her people reminded him of the Saiyans, so did he assume Vegeta would begin to respect her as a warrior for it? That he would learn to trust her as even a slight bit more than his subordinate? The rookie placed on his team with an obnoxious righteousness when it came to the slaughter they carried out on every job and homesickness she could never quite shake? How she fought all of it to fruitlessly protect her home and people from the wrath of a liar, not unlike how he fought his own nature and pride to bide his time before striking out for revenge?

Power flickered inside him, latched on to his fury and frothing at the mouth. Begging to be unleashed. But it faded as quick as it surged, snuffed by a broken and tapped out body and the hopelessness of his situation. The yawning mouth of death inching ever closer, salivating all the more with each thought of his shameful doom. 

Pain in his abdomen forced his attention back on the task at hand. Whatever Frieza said was drowned out by his miserable groans choked by sobs, the cracking of the stone he squashed into his abdomen. His hand rose. Vegeta could just feel the surge of energy meant to do him in. But then another power arrived on the battlefield, the rush of wind resulting from his swift arrival diverting Frieza's attention. 

Vegeta snorted and fell back on the ground. "Kakarot...it's about damn time," he wheezed, listening as his son and friends cheered over his recovery. Amidst the torture, the fleeting high from his power skyrocketing and his belief that he had ascended to that legendary status, in surviving one transformation after another, the prince had forgotten about the low-class warrior healing in the ship. For a moment, resentment frothed back to the surface at the memory of his humiliation on Earth at his hands. But then he remembered how easily he dealt with Recoome and Burter, how Ginyu would have followed the same formula had he not employed his cheap body snatching trick. His gut rolled at the thought, the same he had on that battlefield: had Kakarot done it? Had he become the legendary Super Saiyan?

He pushed himself back up onto his elbows with a pained grunt. After healing and his own power surging again, he ripped up such insecure thoughts with his usual bravado. No, obviously it was he who had become a Super Saiyan. His birthright as an elite Saiyan warrior, as royalty destined to conquer the universe. Frieza would fall to his might, and immortality would serve as the icing on the cake.

Kakarot challenged Frieza. Stupid in his opinion. Until the emperor raised his finger and fired a deadly shot of ki at Kakarot's chest. Vegeta inwardly groaned, the fight already concluded. Until the lightning quick swat of Kakarot's hand batted the attack away with the ease of someone fending off a flying pest rather than a deadly attack. Vegeta's jaw went slack. Another rapid-fire barrage of pink laser shots zipped toward the Saiyan, each dodged without issue. Frieza's surprise mirrored his own in that moment.

On top of his sound beating after claiming the have reached legendary status, after once more witnessing Kakarot display power and speed beyond his own reach, Vegeta was forced to contend with the reality that Kakarot might have done it. He should have felt humbled, enraged even. Instead, his frame quivered with mirthful giggles that exploded into full bodied and crazed laughter. 

"This is too rich. Frieza, do you have any idea what you're up against?" Through doubling vision, he noted the twitch of Freiza's eye, the corners of his lips as his calm facade began to crack. "Kakarot...he's done it! Truly done it! He's become a Super Saiyan! You...you really are going to be killed by the legend you feared! You...you're going to pay!"

A fresh wave of painful laughter ripped from his throat, shortened by a shot of ki blasted straight through his chest. His eyes widened and he coughed up blood. His arms gave beneath his weight and he crashed to the ground. Consciousness drifted in and out in spurts, the voice of Kakarot reprimanding Frieza for his callousness in attacking a man unable to defend himself. Vegeta could have laughed again at such honor, such softness unfitting of a Saiyan warrior. But just breathing had become a task, the air filling his lungs escaping just as fast. Heart slowing. Blood soaking into the grass. No, he had to save his breath for something else. A damn reality check for Kakarot and his naivety.

"Kakarot, listen to me…"

Vegeta coughed again and Kakarot winced. "Vegeta, please. Save your strength."

"Shut up. Shut up and...listen to me." He stared straight up into the third-class warrior's face, his eyes, even as his own filled with tears. Of shame. Of regret. For the race he refused to mourn for so long. His mother. His father. Nappa and Raditz. All written off as weak for their deaths. So what did that make him?

"You have to let go of your foolish emotions, Kakarot. They're going to get you killed. Can't be...so soft..."

"Vegeta…."

"No! You can't bother with your idiotic ideals here! Mercy, compassion...Frieza won't show you either no matter how much you show him! You need...need to forget all of that and fight him with everything you have! Kill him before he kills you!"

Vegeta paused for another futile attempt at catching his breath. The world darkened along the edges of his vision. His eyes, his body felt heavy. He caught a glimpse of Nabooru's dead, gold eyes. Remembered her smile in her last moments. Her silent rebellion against Frieza and a final attempt to reassure him she had been on his side to her death. No, he had more to say. More that Kakarot needed to hear.

"Kakarot…Frieza. Frieza killed our people. My parents and yours. Every last Saiyan he obliterated because he was afraid we would rise up against him. And after we served him and his family loyally for years, did everything they asked and more! Only to be put down like...like a pack of dogs!" Vegeta coughed up more blood and choked on a sob. "He took me from my father as a child. Said he would kill him if I didn't do everything he said...and then he did it anyway. He murdered my father. He...Frieza made me who I am, Kakarot!"

Admitting it aloud stung more than the hole in his chest. A fact he knew all along but refused to contend with or truly fight. More compliance he could not opt out of if he valued his life. He hadn't understood Nabooru's ravings on the ship before, about figuring out who he really was after all this, but now...now he thought he might. Not that it mattered; death had come to claim him.

He dug his fingers into the dirt, clinging to the planet as adamantly as he clung to the last dregs of his life. "Nabooru…she's just like us. He did the same to her, took her...threatened her planet and people…killed them anyway." Another wheeze. "Avenge us, Kakarot. Avenge our race. Make...make him pay for everything he's done to us."

Gloved fingers unfurled, leaving behind ruts in the soil. Obsidian eyes slipped closed, forcing out the last of the years of tears he had been too proud to shed. His heart shuddered to a halt, and Prince Vegeta breathed his last breath.

[mc-slowwalker]

shipping to australia is a nightmare. anytime I go to do any online shopping I’m instantly stopped by the thought of shipping. hahahahahahaha at least that’d be a funny way to go out tho

yeah true!! every time I’m watching a vod I’ll get so startled cause they always pop up when you’re least expecting them too. I’ve only got my prime sub and I haven’t tested it but I have a feeling that twitch would still give you ads. they seem like the type

so true I’m not paying hundreds of dollars for textbooks I’m barely gonna use for half a year. oof that sucks. if I didn’t google my way through those exams I guarantee I would have failed though😅😅 then one subject that was ungoogleable, I did fail. god now I feel bad about how terrible a student I am

it’s so nice to see dream being on streams and having fun and interacting with other people !! it sucks cause I would absolutely LOVE to see dream on ppsat but I hate the idea of toxic people that would find reasons to shit on them :// like with gartic phone the other day. I felt like so toxic when the twitter updates account tweeted that dream was there cause I knew the “twitter stans” were coming. and I don’t even have a terribly negative view of stans as a whole. and then turns out it was justified and then I felt even worse. the gumi stuff pissed me off too. feeling a bit bad for dream tho. mans can’t even play with his friends without them getting attacked. I clicked on the links in your subtitle/heading/whatever it’s called when I first followed you like 6 or so months ago. was pretty funny

damnnn you’re doing all of those?? that’s tough. I dropped language (french) in yr 10 and decided to never touch maths again after I finished highschool and I loweky like maths too. oh I will 100% be telling people to touch grass that is so funny. I also can’t say anything about the nerd thing cause I just fully had the thought “what if I write an essay on the internet and it’s effect on language development”

Yes!! please tales!! where is it!! my weekly dose of happiness. I remember the last tales stream I watched like it was yesterday😪 I miss the ____ my beloved gifs that would be everywhere everytime a new character was introduced. I may have very little clue about any of the in between/the other side lore but damn were the builds insanely good. I was watching tubbo’s stream too and he said there wasn’t anything to do on the dream smp and like true ig but🥲🥲 he also said he’s been thinking about lore on twitter tho!!! so there is that !! hmm yeah I do wonder what they’re waiting for actually cause it’s been genuinely so long that c!dream’s been in the prison for. I wanna why it’s so important cause cc!dream and cc!sam put a lot of emphasis on it. and I just really really want to see what c!dream will be like out of the prison. for so many reasons

oh nooo ripppp. that’s kinda funny tho. the video was so short that was funny too. sapnap and george 2000iq moment nice. it was a nice vid tho, chill and enjoyable. so much dream content recently I feel like he’s about to drop off the face of the earth or miraculously stream something (highly unlikely but I can hope)

When streamers runs ads you gey a warning! But when vods do it it’s just a hey haha fuck you! You’re 100% right about twitch jeff bezo wouldn’t let any thing go to waste. He’s not the ceo right now but I hate him anyways. I’ve never actually used prime sub because I don’t have amazon prime, but I’ve been gifted subs a couple of times which was neat!

You know I may not be the best student but as someone who has cried a lot because of school I think it’s morally correct to be a bad student Cheat!! You’re paying then money they owe your ass so fucking much!! Abuse their resources stick it to the man. No time in life for guilt especially considering that universities are just corporations anyways they made hide behind the guise of learning but I’m calling them out no way knowledge gotta cost this much

I also love seeing dream stream with his other friends! To badly quote scott smajor, the dream team is made up of anti social sweaty fucks (affectionate). He’s always so awkward at first and ngl? Huge confidence booster /j/j. Logically I understand that twitter update accounts are useful, but I think they should all collectively take a break for a minute. Would it change anything? No. But it would make a lot of people very unhappy. I don’t even know what to do about toxic twitter stans because like, content creators and us can call them out and not at all condone their actions but we can’f actually do anything about it? It’s super frustrating. And I feel like a hypocrite too because if dream does stuff with a cc I hate I bitch about it too I just don’t have as far a reach. Like I for sure threw a whole fit when dream went on to kaceytron’s stream. Actually I tend to get upset when he goes onto streams with people who actively hate him. So I struggle with that because despite feeling like I’m justified in doing that, twitter stans feel justified in their stuff too. You could argue that it’s different because the chance that the ccs will see it is near 0 but it’s still the same behavior isn’t it? For sure not saying twitter stans are right, they piss me off how dare they say shit about gumi, but also I worry that I act similar you know?

I’m glad is was amusing I haven’t gotten any angry anons so I can never tell if the links are working or not

Listen listen it’s less that I chose this and more that they’re requirements. Spanish is a req, but I’ve always really liked spanish? I’ve found with learning languages I have to be interested in the lanrguage’s history/culture. So french makes me mad but spanish makes me feel cozy and I like it! I pick up spanish pretty fast too and I’d like to be actually fluent in it some day. Language as a whole is super interesting. Also the internet has made language even more interesting with widespread similarities and what not

Listen I would agree more with tubbo but instead Imm going to lighheartedly call him a coward who’s afraid of surprise lore! He said he would be there more often if other people logged on more often but I know for a fact other people feel the same and by him not regularly logging on he’s adding to it! I think foolish, ponk, puffy, and bbh have really upped my standards for lore. They log on at least once a week and make their own plot. Like bro if you’re bored start some shit tommy style! Personally I would make enemies with all the beets people. Tubbo has such cool lore I just wish he was willing to be a little more spontaneous. He was tired last night though so I can see his boredom beinf effected by that. I really really enjoyed bear smp those guys were so fucking funny and I will be watching more of them. Need to catch up on hermitcraft too

Who’s to say he can’t drop off the face of the planet and stream? He can multitask. Also hems been big on reddit recently so we’ll see where that leads ajddj

[therodrigator6]

Well, hello there fellers.

You can ignore this text post if you want, it comes straight from me, completely outside of Drawings or Proyect updates.

I just really felt as though I needed to take the time to write up my thoughts into a, very possibly, LOOOOOOOOOOOONG post, since I have a LOT on my head right about now.

So, my melancholy, rather depressing, but perhaps amusing, musings, under the cut.

Right, so my whole string of thought was sort of just... proppeled out of me reminiscing about the past... 2 years, maybe year and a half.

I got thinking hard about She-Ra again, LMAO. and I know, I KNOW, why am I even thinking about that damned show again.

BUT, I was really thinking hard about how much I went through, positively I mean, how much growth I had (Around my art and my vocation obviously) with She-Ra.

And really, if you were to scour through my blog, if you went back all the way to... maybe it was late 2018, early 2019, when I posted my first fanarts around She-Ra, you’ll see how far back I was, skill-wise. I mean I wasn’t exactly a beginner, but I weren’t no Grade A artist neither.

And PRIOR to all of that I had more or less drawn fanart intermitently.

Anyone who followed me back when I made RWBY stuff, specifically Whiterose fanart could attest to that. I wasn’t consistent at all, and I experimented more often than not with every single drawing I was making. And don’t get me wrong, I really enjoyed drawing stuff for RWBY, I sort of miss it now LMAO.

But I can certainly see just HOW POWERFULLY drawn I was to She-Ra, because my output of content and the growth of my skill as an artist was EXPONENTIAL. I suppose in a way I owe it really to MY sudden... obsession? Fixation? on that show.

VERY HONESTLY, at this point in time, I feel like I could REALLY speak on what things drew me to She-Ra, and precisely what things KEPT me there. IDK I think it used to be a very special little show.

On one hand? I really had just decided to watch it because I was starting to fall out of love with RWBY.

RWBY WAS a show I’d also loved, and which also meant a lot to me, but the things that MEANT a lot to me, were just not given the story I would’ve been interested in. That AND the small fandom space I’d carved out for myself was getting even smaller. Smaller AND very... toxic? Uncomfortable? I felt as though... my efforts and my involvement in that fandom were neither welcome nor appreciated at one point, let alone the fact that on the SHIPPING side of things, it stopped being fun.

So there I was, starting She-Ra up. I’d known about it for some time before, and I’d *Heard* that it was a fun good show, and most specially... *With an active, HUNGRY fandom, raging about a very popular Ship*. So I thought to myself, YAY, I’ll watch this show and I’m REALLY gonna do my best to go for everything popular.

I was tired of unwelcoming fandoms, tired of enjoying the very little measly, *Unpopular* things about shows, this was all about having a GOOD time. And maybe finally getting my works out, really finding a motivation to create stuff.

I mean in hindsight, now I know I fucked myself over MANY times.

You see because, as soon as I started watching She-Ra, I TRIED to do something different about the way I consumed shows.

In the past I used to be VERY ship-centered about my show experiences, to the point were FANON-Ship-centric relationships with shows would make the stories I was watching really boring and bleak in comparison. I had been afraid at the time, that THIS would also ruin She-Ra for me. So I really thought about... NOT tainting my vision and perception of the show with... Fandom stuff, Fanon or Ship-centric views, NOT EVEN CREATOR INTERACTIONS. I really tried to watch it blind and enjoy it for what it was.

Fool I was, I should’ve done the opposite.

It’s a tired old story, and a really redundant thing for ME to talk about. But I really felt a DEEP disappointment with She-Ra. Akin to LOSS almost.

Cuz you see, for a year and a half I ended up CENTERING myself on She-Ra, on more than one level.

On one hand, I TRULY believed She-Ra was a show with a story that I loved, there were plenty of characters that REALLY spoke to me. Characters like Glimmer? for example? And her storyline? for me are *one in a million*.

Of course I’m... REALLY compacting my She-Ra experience. I had come to appreciate MANY things about it. It’s world, it’s story, the characters, the comedy, the animation, the people who loved it and grew because of it, etc.

Furthermore, once my initial *doubt* about the show had passed, I really immersed myself in the fandom side of things. And I gotta say, I really enjoyed it for as long as it lasted. I think I experienced a new level of feeling like I *belonged* in a community, and a feeling that people LIKED what I did for it, and that people wanted MORE of ME in it.

Alongside that, and going back to animation. Geez, She-Ra came at the best *or worst* (depends on how you wanna look at it in hindsight now, LMAO), time of my life.

Literally on the verge of me finishing up with Prepschool and having to chose a career for University.

Prior to She-Ra, I really was trying to pinpoint my vocation, and animation had been in my mind for a LONG time, since Steven Universe really.

AND... Idk, AGAIN, THERE WAS SOMETHING ABOUT SHE-RA... which told me... “This is important”. Animation is important, being able to tell tales for people is important. Telling tales for people who need it, or people who don’t often get to tell tales is important. This medium is BEAUTIFUL, I MEAN, LOOK AT EVERYTHING IT CAN SPAWN OUT OF PEOPLE.

So it helped me make THAT decision.

Also alongside these things well... I go back to all of that about “Belonging”, and “community”.

Boy I met some of the most amazing friends I ever have in my life. People whom I respect, people who I admire, people who thought like me, liked ME, enjoyed this show, etc.

OF COURSE, at the time, and I really should’ve known better. We met out of our mutual LOVE for Glimmadora, LMAO.

ME? FALLING IN LOVE WITH AN UNPOPULAR SHIP? Who’da thought.

AND I DID SO, *DAMN NEAR DIVORCED FROM FANDOM* LMAOOOOO, you can see how my “I’ll learn to love whichever aspects of this show I’m *gonna* love, outside of fandom influence” policy really just fucked me in the ass.

AND GOD, DID I *LET IT* BE A PART OF ME.

That comunity, those friends, that ship, that show, those creators. It was all I thought about, and it DROVE me. so much so I put up with so much shit from my University. I put up with so many bad things in my life that were going on because of that show.

And I see now that many of those friends I mentioned did too. GOD, how I wish... we just hadn’t.

I think... for most of us things had already been pretty shit, not gonna lie.

There was the pandemic, for a start. Prior to May the 15th I had an uncle of mine die of COVID, which shook me to *my* core, but dear old She-Ra and the Glimmadora fandom gang were there to cheer me on. (This was around the time really horrid people in the She-Ra fandom, whom LOATHED Glimmadora with a passion were making “Glimmadora shippers must have Covid, since a symptom of Covid is a lack of taste” Jokes btw.)

And I think of my friends also, who have always spoken to me about their problems and their lives. For all accounts I think, they’d always had it harder than me, and they found themselves a WILL and a DRIVE to go on... through this, through She-Ra, and our friendship.

Then May the 15th came and it’s all been going downhill from there HSEBRGJKSEHRBGKJSERHGBJK.

I mean... I understand NOW, just how DAMAGING for myself it was to... cling so much to that show, to all of it. NEVER should’ve connected the drive of my vocation to it.

Cuz yanno... even if I HAVE continued to grow and get better the past few months, some things haven’t changed for the better.

For instance, I basically LOST my entire space here, in fandoms, in ejoying shows. I LITERALLY ONLY CREATE NOW... Either out of spite, or for my friends.

There is a VERY DEEP loathing now within me about stuff like... Catradora for example. I hate it, it makes me feel disgusting, simple as that. And THAT kind of feeling isn’t welcome here, also simple as that. So I’m out of a space and that hurts.

PFFT, basically all the pieces I produce now, which I still do with a She-Ra theme. Nobody’s gonna wanna consume MY content anymore, and they don’t. I made sure they couldn’t because I knew, I wasn’t going to be able to stomache this She-Ra fandom anymore.

That’s been another thing too. I don’t like being a contrarian, I don’t like being the guy who thinks the thing everybody loves is bad or wrong, and if I could SO HELP ME GOD, I’d change my entire view of it all. I don’t really care about being right or wrong anymore, I just want that peace of mind back.

HELL, there were people I knew since 2016 almost, who kinda just told me...

Shut the fuck up or leave.

On some cases I shut my mouth, on others I just left.

And yanno... I do feel miserable about it. But it also makes it all the harder when I think of my friends?

GOD DAMN, EVERYTHING THAT *COULD* GO WRONG, WENT WRONG FOR THEM.

ALWAYS, for all of my friends. And even through the hurt, I sit here and think, well I think I still have hope! I think I still have a drive to go on and persue animation  and tell good stories.

But I understand now... that *I* have a priviledge over my friends. The priviledge of support. I’m not REALLY alone, there’s people helping ME.

My friends don’t have that, and I can’t give them that, how I wish I could.

And it does just HURT only being able to tell my friends, “HEY! Have hope things’ll be better!” And then we all turn to the only beacons of hope we shared, and seeing them all dull and out of light. No Glimmer of hope.

Like, how do you tell people to hold out, to keep fighting, to keep trying to STILL CHASE THEIR DREAMS... When you can’t even help them keep their heads high when they’re trying yo get a damned job. When no matter how much THEY try they keep getting knocked down.

When there’s no longer a space were they feel confortable sharing their creations, because everyone they had ONCE tried to please with them? suddenly decided they were of no value.

So here we are.

I’m starting up a new semester in a couple of days, hopefully building myself up more to chase MY dreams... whilst all my friends suffer and can’t chase theirs.

Shit’s fucked. I wish I could do more.

PFFT, I guess, long story short:

Life unfair, Me Sad.

Me Angery, Me Bitter

Me Lost, They Won

Boohoo I guess.

SO ANYWAYS... I really just... needed to put these thoughts out in words. Scream to the void as it were.

I can’t wait to go back into discord or twitter or tumblr and see how my friends can’t catch a fucking break.

And how things will continue to get worse before they get better.

God I hope they get better, for all of us, if not atleast for them. They’ve already gone through enough.