#junkyard pirates

[somelegobird]

I got curious so I kinda

Total number of wishes made per season:

Pilot Episodes: 0

Rise of the snakes: 3

Legacy of the Green Ninja: 6

Rebooted: 0

Tournament of Elements: 6

Possession: 3

Skybound: 45

Day of the Departed: 0

The Hands of Time: 7

Sons of Garmadon: 1

Hunted: 0

March of the Oni: 1

Secrets of the Forbidden Spinjitzu: 7

Prime Empire: 0

Master of the Mountain: 3

The Island: 0

Seabound: 1

Crystalized: 6

Dragons Rising s1: 7

Total wishes: 96

In this doc, the seasons are colour coded, I made a "Wishes per Character" list, the rules and guidelines I set for myself are laid out, and there's more interesting and specific graphs.

More specific lists below (Who said it, how it was said, and what episode it was said in).

Rise of the snakes

(Snakebit) Wu: I wish.

(Once Bitten, Twice Shy) Cole: I wish I had a sister like you.

(All of Nothing) Kai: Ugh. I wish I could see me now, because you all just got Kai'd.

Legacy of the Green Ninja

(Pirates vs Ninja) Garmadon:  I wish they were here to show these scaly idiots how it's done.

(Double Trouble) Garmadon: Ninja, today I wish for you to finally meet your match.

(Ninjaball Run) Ed: Oh, we're fine, son. Just wish I could say the same for the old jalopy.

(Ninjaball Run) Garmadon: I wish to rip open Ninjago and make an insurmountable obstacle that they can never surpass!

(Child's Play) Garmadon: I wish to create the power to make you young.

(Wrong Place, Wrong Time) Garmadon: I wish I could go back in time, and make it so the ninja were never formed in the first place!

Tournament of Elements

(Only One Can Remain) Karlof: Karlof wish he never sign up for this. 

(Versus) Neuro: I wish I could've done more.

(Spy for a Spy) Karlof: Karlof wish he had friend like that.

(The Day of the Dragon) Karlof: Karlof wish he could do that.

(The Greatest Fear of All) Skylor: I wish I still had the power to change.

(The Corridor of Elders) Kai: I wish I could say we're not facing an army unlike we've ever seen, but we have, and we know what they're capable of.

Possession

(Ghost Story) Jay: Uh, I wish Lloyd was here for that.

(The Crooked Path) Ronin: I wish it never had to come to this.

(Grave Danger Jay: Oh, I wish we had the Sword right about now.

Skybound

(Infamous) Nya: Aw, I wish we could, but duty calls.

(Infamous) Clouse: I wish for my Book of Spells.

(Infamous) Clouse: I wish...I wish to become mortal again.

(Infamous) Nadakhan: I wish it could be over soon, but right now, you're probably thinking about your last wish.

(Infamous) Clouse: I-I wish it all to go away!

(Public Enemy Number One) Misako: I wish to speak to someone in charge!

(Public Enemy Number One) Misako: I wish I hadn't said anything in the first place!

(Misfortune Rising) Clancee: I really wish he'd warn us when he did that.

(Misfortune Rising) Jay: I wish I never saw my future.

(Misfortune Rising) Jay: Then I wish...I wish I wasn't born in a junkyard.

(Misfortune Rising) Jay: I wish I wasn't poor anymore and could give Nya everything she wants.

(Misfortune Rising) Nadakhan: I wish.

(Misfortune Rising) Jay: I just wish I wasn't alone with you.

(Misfortune Rising) Lloyd: I wish Wu were here to guide us.

(Misfortune Rising) Kai: The only thing I wish is for you to take me back.

(Misfortune Rising) Kai: I wish you could take me back

(Misfortune Rising) Kai: I wish for all of it to go away!

(On a Wish and a Prayer) Zane: For my first wish, I wish that you'll not twist my words, nor find a loophole, but understand the true intentions of the words that I speak, and carry out your will as I've thoroughly instructed.

(On a Wish and a Prayer) Zane: I wish...I wish for it all to go away! 

(On a Wish and a Prayer) Flintlocke: We're acquiring so much land, I wish we had more hands.

(Wishmasters) Dareth: I wish I could tell you the mission is gonna be simple. It's not.

(Wishmasters) Cole: I wish Vengestone didn't stop our powers, but made them stronger.

(Wishmasters) Nya: I wish someone told me we were gonna use wishes!

(Wishmasters) Lloyd: I wish you were a lousy shot!

(Wishmasters) Cole: I wish he didn't have that sword.

(Wishmasters) Lloyd: I wish I was wise like Wu.

(Wishmasters) Cole: I wish us all out of here.

(Wishmasters) Nya: I really wish you hadn't said that, Cole.

(Wishmasters) Nya: Then I wish those clouds would stop us!

(Wishmasters) Lloyd: I wish for a sword!

(Wishmasters) Clancee: I-I wish them away!

(The Last Resort) Clancee: Oh, I wish...I wish...I wish I could see where she is right now.

(The Last Resort) Nya: I just wish I had a say in it.

(The Last Resort) Nya: And I wish we didn't have a lovestruck Djinn chasing us to the ends of Ninjago.

(Operation Land Ho!) Jay: I wish Nadakhan wasn't a Djinn! I wish Nadakhan wasn't a Djinn!

(The Way Back) Nadakhan: I wish you wouldn't say that!

(The Way Back) Nadakhan: I wish to deal with you later.

(The Way Back) Nadakhan: I wish I had those odds.

(The Way Back) Nadakhan: I wish the swords away.

(The Way Back) Clancee: I wish you'd listen to me for once!

(The Way Back) Nadakhan: I wish...for my love to return.

(The Way Back) Nadakhan: I wish you gone!

(The Way Back) Nadakhan: I wish you still! (directed at Zane)

(The Way Back) Nadakhan: I wish you still. (directed at Lloyd)

(The Way Back) Jay: I wish you had taken my hand.

The Hands of Time

(The Hands of Time) Acronix: Oh, how I wish my brother were here to see this.

(The Hands of Time) Nya: Sometimes I wish I was still Samurai X instead of a ninja.

(The Hatching) Jay: Kinda wish we hadn't busted him.

(A Time of Traitors) Kai: I wish I could ask you what this is.

(A Time of Traitors) Kai: Actually, I wish I could ask you anything.

(A Time of Traitors) Jay: Wish we had the rest of the team here to help.

(Secrets Discovered) Misako: I wish Wu could have seen this.

Sons of Garmadon

(The Jade Princess) Lloyd: I wish I knew. 

March of the Oni

(The Darkness Comes) Pixal: I wish the others could see this.

Secrets of the Forbidden Spinjitzu

(Questing for Quests) Cole: I wish I understood what you just said, but I don't.

(Never Trust a Human) Aspheera: I wish to hear you say the words.

(Under Siege) Jay: Oh, I wish Lloyd and the others were here.

(Fire Maker) Kai: I just wish I still had my powers.

(Fire Maker) Kai: I just wish there was something I could do.

(Krag's Lament) Jay: I wish Kai was here.

(A Fragile Hope) Kataru: I wish I could give you some hope, but there is none in this place.

Master of the Mountain

(The Worst Rescue Ever) Vania: I wish I could go with you.

(Queen of the Munce) Murtessa: I wish you to be my king, for even though you have tiny arms and ugly human face, you have a stout heart and are a mighty warrior!

(The Son of Lilly) Vania: I wish you could stay.

Seabound

(Nyad) Nya: I wish we had more time, but we never seem to get a break.

Crystalized

(A Painful Promise) Aspheera: Wish I could help, but your ninja never came back.

(The Benefit of Grief) Dareth: I wish I were a Nindroid.

(The Benefit of Grief) Sally: I wish I could turn off my emotion meter.

(Christofern) Garmadon: I wish to understand it better.

(Christofern) Garmadon: I wish to see if there is any goodness in me.

(An Issue of Trust) Nya: I just wish we had better news.

Dragons Rising s1

(Beyond Madness) Lloyd: I only wish Master Wu was here to properly train them.

(Return to Imperium) Sora: I wish I was anywhere but here.

(The Last Djinn) Sora: I wish for you to help us kick these Howlers in their butts!

(The Last Djinn) Nya: I wish for the Howlers to be gone!

(The Call it Doom) Nya: I wish we could locate the missing Dragon Energy Core.

(Land of Lost Things) Sora: I wish I was.

(Land of Lost Things) Sora: I wish I didn't remember mine.

[humornaut]

An Analysis of Foreshadowing in Omori's Prologue

Hey everyone!

With the Omori manga's first chapter's release, one thing has been made clear: They are FLYING through the game. Unless they are doing something weird, the entire prologue segment has been moved to right after the Aubrey fight, a move I can only believe has been made so that the real world characters appear in the first chapter. I won't be making any judgements until I see how it all fits together (and maybe I won't make many judgments in general, I don't really consider myself a judgmental person for better or for worse), but it did get me thinking about how well Omori's prologue works in general! So today, I'd like to take some time to talk about that!

The Sidequests

The first things I want to mention are the side quests! I've mentioned it before (or maybe I haven't, I don't remember everything I've said), but nearly all the side quests in Headspace are symbolic on a meta level. A lot of people dismiss this as boring repetitiveness (perhaps true), but the vast majority of the side quests are about finding a lost item or individual. This is, of course, echoing the larger Headspace plot of Basil going missing. However, there is something about this concept that I'd like to point out using one of the sidequests!

In the quest "Whereabouts of Duckie Jr.", you are tasked with determining the whereabouts of Duckie Jr! Crazy, I know. Remember how I said that most of the sidequests are reminiscent of the quest to find Basil? Like 2 seconds ago? Well, this one is good for actually illuminating what is going on with that questline overall! Duckie Jr. and his family are references to a famous optical illusion in which a person can see either a duck or a bunny. Take a look at the house that the family lives in:

They live in a present! Now take a look at this!

"SUNNY won't leave the box, so KEL put a food bowl inside. I guess this box will be SUNNY and MEWO's new home."

So that's interesting! Add in the distant demeanor of Duckie Jr's father, as well as Mari's statements about Duckie having his head in the clouds and comparing Duckie to Omori, it becomes clear that Duckie in this situation is a reference to Sunny, not Basil. What does this mean? Well, it means that we should rethink the Headspace quest all together! The quest to find Basil is much more a quest for Sunny to re-find himself.

Now this (as well as the quest for the character Daisy that I have mentioned previously) is interesting, but it isn't exactly foreshadowing. For that, I would like to draw your attention to the sidequest Stick in the Mud.

In this quest, you must go around Cattail fields to find Mr. Scarecrows three crow friends, and have them return to him. In order to do this, you have to use Hero when interacting with the three crows.

I personally believe that this is a bit of foreshadowing to the Sunny route. Hero's maturity is necessary to bringing Sunny, Kel, and Aubrey back together and bringing them to Basil. I also choose to see Mr. Scarecrow as an analogue for Basil rather than Sunny due to the coloring of Mr. Scarecrow's sprite (Blond hair, blue eyes, green clothes), and Hero doesn't actually bring Basil specifically to anyone (heck, Hero doesn't actually ever talk to Basil in the real world segments of the game)

I also want to make clear: I'm not trying to imply that this is symbolism on the part of Sunny's mind, like a lot of the things that I talk about on this account, rather that this is a bit of meta storytelling foreshadowing how the real world plot will turn out. This will go for everything else that I talk about here as well.

Captain of the Space Pirates

Now that we've talked about the sidequests, I'd like to draw your attention to the main questline of Otherworld. As a reminder, once the gang gets into Otherworld, we are introduced to Captain Spaceboy, who is bedridden and depressed following his break-up with Sweetheart. In order to solve this problem, we have to go through the junkyard to find his mixtape. We aren't the only ones looking for it, and while there, we meet Rosa, a Sweetheart super-fan.

We get the mixtape back, bring it to Spaceboy, at which point Kel plays it, triggering Spaceboy to start his boss fight.

The argument for this all being one large bit of foreshadowing goes like this:

Spaceboy would be Basil (purely from a narrative perspective, not in any kind of character-sense). We go to the junkyard and dig through the trash to find the mixtape, just like we eventually get the photo album by digging through Aubrey's trash. Rosa in this case represents Aubrey, attempting to take care of the mixtape due to her personal connection to the item, revealing that Spaceboy is the one that threw it out in the first place, echoing how in the real world, Aubrey takes care of the photo album for four years due to what it means to her, despite how Basil (from her perspective) destroyed it originally.

We bring the mixtape back to Spaceboy, and just as Kel is the one that kicks off going through the photo album with Basil, he is the one that rushes to put the mixtape into the boombox, triggering the memories that set off Spaceboy, causing the fight.

Admittedly, things get a little cloudy here, as the fight between Sunny and Basil isn't directly caused by the photo album. You could even say that the Spaceboy fight represents the fight with Omori (or even both the Basil fight AND the Omori fight) due to Omori's fight being due to Sunny's mind reacting to memories of the past, better mirroring the Spaceboy fight. But hey! Spaceboy's hair turns green and his eyes turn red so who can say. :P

Then, after the fight, we get a few things! We get an eyepatch (goes without saying), a train pass (representing how Sunny will be moving after the conclusion of the game), and a sno-cone ticket (yeah I don't think this one represents anything).

And, just like the Sunny route, the prologue ends with an early look at Memory Lane, and the dream ends, with Sunny waking up.

There's probably a lot more I could talk about regarding Omori's prologue, so I might update this later! I hope you enjoyed reading this! Within the game, I feel like the prologue is one of the strongest bits of Headspace, and I've always wanted to talk about how I believe it foreshadows the rest of the game! This is a topic that I'd love to hear more people's opinion on!

[kindaasrikal]

Jay’s the only one who had the most jobs out of all of the ninja.

A pizza delivery man, a show host, an agent for the administration, and if you want you can include how he must’ve worked with his parents at the junkyard, and the whole ninja thing. He’s also been a pirate, if that counts. He also worked for Wu at his teahouse.

Ofc he’s the only one who was able to get so many good jobs remember when he listed off all his hobbies and skills, he’s the one guy to be capable of getting a job, let alone multiple.

[alltheirdamn]

A Bounty for Reward (Mando x f!Reader)

CHAPTER 1

Summary: when you discover a bounty has been put on your head, your future and freedom are on the line. Warnings: mentions of death, drugs, weapons, angst, language (future smut, don't worry) Word Count: 6.5k A/N/: this is my first time dropping any sort of writing into the world, so pls be kind & i hope you'll stick around for the rest of the fic <3

Swiping greased hands over your work smock, you looked towards the horizon to see the Twin Suns dipping below the rolling sand dunes. The work day was over, yet you felt you barely made a dent in the new land speeder your parents had bought. You were accustomed to working with older models of land speeders, preferring the engine types over the newer models. The new models were made for looks rather than efficiency, and you didn’t understand how the citizens of Mos Eisley could afford them.

Composed of a ship hangar and various piles of scrap parts, the junkyard overlooked the southern border of the city, your own home barren and abysmal due to years of decline in business. It was rare your parents got business, and if it was… it usually wasn’t the best clientele. You had your run-ins with smugglers, pirates, and crime bosses, and every time, you worried for your family’s safety. It was only you and your parents, after all— you had no one else to call home.

As you tidied your workbench, stowing away the tools, scrap metals, and loose wires, you heard an unfamiliar buzz of speed bikes approaching the junkyard. It was unusual to get clients this late, let alone any visitors. Your family was nearly invisible to the citygoers, barely knowing one or two vendors on the streets that sold food. 

In a haze of dust and dirt, the men made laps around the junkyard, their voices loud and violent as they called out for your parents. Heart thudding in your throat, you rushed to the small home tucked in the dunes, frantic to find your parents. 

You hadn’t realized your father was already at the front entrance, sniper rifle in his grasp. 

“Kono Halcard!” One of the front men yelled, his speeder coming to a halt in front of your father.

You watched from afar as your father stood tall and strong, his suntanned skin glowing in the golden hour of the falling suns. Time had aged his skin whitened his hair, but he was still a force of nature. He had lived in Tatooine his whole life, as had you, and he was no stranger to the scum that roamed the planet. Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted your mother, Mana, peering behind the windows of your home. She was not so much the fighter as your father. 

But you were your father's daughter. 

Grabbing the hidden blade on your work belt, you followed the trail up to the front entrance, watching the wind kick the billows of dust into tornados of sand as the men’s bikes stopped behind their very vocal leader. 

“We want nothing to do with you, Jissard,” your father’s voice was stern. 

Jissard, which you assumed was his last name, was a hateful-looking man. He was human, at least from what you could discern, as he stood several feet taller than your father, wearing a tattered tunic and worn leather coat. Most of his face was covered by a low-brimmed hat, the same color beige as the sand surrounding you, but you could still glimpse his piercing yellow eyes. The look of them alone forced your spine straight, nerves electrifying within every inch of your body. 

The men behind him wore the same type of clothes– all worn, all dirty. It was obvious from the looks of them that they were a band of spice traders, the residual of the drugs lingering on their fingers and skin. They dismounted their speeders, flanking Jissard on either side, their hands resting carefully on their concealed blasters. You shifted your weight, your grip tightening around the handle of your blade. 

“Oh, Kono,” Jissard drawled, a thick accent falling off his tongue. “You’re a few payments behind, aren’t you?”

“I owe you nothing. I paid the Pyke’s back in full nearly three months ago.” Your father straightened his spine; the rifle still lifted at eye level towards the traders. 

“If you had, I wouldn’t be here, my friend,” Jissard grinned, revealing a row of rotting teeth. It was a menacing grin, one meant to elicit fear. 

It didn’t elicit it from your father, but it did from you.

“Ah, and I take it this is your daughter, no?” Jissard continued, glancing in your direction. 

The handle of your blade was cutting into your palm now, your pulse thudding in your ears. You stepped forward, aligning yourself with your father, exchanging a weary glance between one another. He wasn’t shocked you were beside him, but you caught a glimpse of regret in his eyes. A fading sentiment of, I’m sorry, as you gathered the unspoken secrets of your family’s business. You had an inkling that crime would one day touch your family, yet you hadn’t expected it to be already seeping into the foundations around you. How long had your father been mixed up with the Pyke’s? Had this been the reason for the junkyard's business to decline? Either way, you were seeing the truth come to light, but you wouldn’t back away from a fight. 

Not when it came to family. 

“She does not concern you,” he was firm, words gritted through clenched teeth. 

Jissard smiled again, dipping his hat towards you as a gesture of hello. 

“Kesi Jissard,” he smiled, “ I’m a friend of your father's here.”

“I wouldn’t exactly label us friends,” your father sneered. 

He cocked the rifle back, the sound of it echoing around you. He was done playing Kesi’s games, yet Kesi hadn’t had his fill. The men behind him drew their blasters, your father becoming the target for every weapon. You exposed the blade behind your back, a minor threat you knew wouldn’t do much. Kesi noticed the slight reflection of metal in the fading suns, a small smirk pointed in your direction. It made your stomach churn, seeing the way he welcomed the threat. He wasn’t afraid of you, and you had yet to understand why you were so afraid of him.

You just were. 

“I’m not here to collect bodies,” Kesi tossed his attention back to your father, “I would like to settle this as civil as possible. Unless you force my hand, Kono.”

“I don’t think you people know what civil means,” your father bit. 

Kessi stepped forward, cocking his head to the side to gesture his men forward. The look of ‘civility’ shot past his eyes, replaced by something far more menacing. His hand grazed over his own blaster, eyes flickering between you and your father. In the distance, you could hear a familiar voice shouting, this one of your mother.

“Ah, Mana,” Kesi smiled, rotting teeth exposed across dirtied skin, “So kind of you to join us. We were just discussing some matters of business.”

Your mother joined your father, her hands twisting together in an anxious manner. There was an expression of fear on her face…yet she held her breath as if she anticipated the worst.

“We have no business with you traders,” she spewed. 

It was the first time you had ever seen your mother speak in such a violent manner. She was always coolheaded, kind, and extremely closed off to strangers. She made no part of any business deals the junkyard had and kept herself in the shadows where she felt safest. But now, it was your family against him, his men, and ultimately… the Pykes.

Kesi slanted his head to the side, watching your mother and father with silent regard. The men behind him were growing agitated as they swayed from side to side, their weapons still raised towards your parents. The knife you bared down in your grip was feeling all too heavy; the concept of having to defend yourself grew more likely. You silently begged your father just to comply, to give Kesi whatever he wanted, and to move on as usual. If they were to go broke, they would still be alive. 

Maybe. 

“Listen, Kono,” Kesi sighed heavily, tightening the brim of his hat over his eyes, “I don’t like wasting my time. So, either you pay up, or we can take payment in a different form.”

His gaze shot to you, shadowed eyes tracing the outline of your body until your skin crawled from disgust. Every vile and unnameable thing washed over your mind– the countless things he could do to you. You pleaded internally to your father, hoping he would just give in and do as Kesi asked. 

But your father, like you, was stubborn to the end. 

“Fuck you,” your father spat.

Without another word, his gun was aimed at Kesi’s head, the rifle shooting forward yet somehow suspending itself in time. The sequence of events grew hazy as you watched from the ground on which you fell. You didn’t register that your father had pushed you back or that Kesi’s men struck down your mom in several shots; her body lay lifeless on the sands of Tatooine. The sound of your father's cries delayed in your mind as you watched him crumple over, a gaping shot tearing apart his chest. They were gone. Both of them. And you had been too dazed to react, the knife having been lost from your hand in the midst of the attack. 

All you could see were the remnants of your parents in the wreckage of brutality Kesi had left them in. Broken sobs erupted from your chest, screams that did not make it past your lips, and yet the world continued moving. Kesi’s men grabbed you, yanking you to your feet as you struggled to breathe. Your eyes couldn’t tear away from your parents, their eyes staring absently at the sky as it faded to darkness. Everything in your world had gone dark. 

Everything was gone. 

“I guess I’ll settle for you as my payment,” Kesi smirked. 

___________________________________________________

Eyes slamming open, the nightmare jarred you enough to catapult you upwards from your sleeping position. This had been the third night in a row you had dreamt of that night, the third night you were reminded of all you had lost. Rubbing your eyes aggressively, you felt the start of tears pooling over your knuckles as you dug into the skin of your eyelids. Sounds of airspeeders and taxis whizzed by in hushed vibrations, the windows of your hotel room shaking ever so slightly. It wouldn’t be very noticeable to anyone else, but you were acutely aware of every sound around you. You were always holding your breath as if the past lurked in the shadows, waiting for the moment to strike and kill. 

It had been four standard months since you arrived in the lower levels of Coruscant– four months since you had found an escape route from Kesi. It had taken nearly a year to arrange a meticulous plan that stripped you from his grasp, and you had pulled it off. Gathering—stealing—enough credits to buy your way off world, you took refuge in a hidden identity and made a new life in the capital. The hotel room was temporary, at least until you ran out of credits—or luck. But getting credits was easy now that you learned the ways of the underground. Rich men traveled to the lower levels looking for drugs or prostitutes, and you knew the best spots in the city to track them down. Some small talk, maybe a few drinks, and it was easy for you to card your hand into their pockets and stash away credits while they remained distracted. 

Eager to leave the darkness— and the past— you gathered yourself and threw on your heavy jacket, tossing the hood over your head. Strapped to your thigh, you kept your vibroblade, the last thing you kept from all the years under Kesi’s hold. It had been your protection against aggressive clients, yet you never had the courage to use it. They were aggressive, but there was never enough strength or freedom to fight back. Freedom was something you never knew. 

Finding your way through the streets, you ventured into one of the run-down playrooms in the center of town. Through a cloud of smoke, you found small groups of men hunched over drinks as they played sabacc fervently. Some turned to scrutinize you as you walked in, but you kept your head low, finding your way toward the bar. Nerves didn’t get to you, but a drink could help suffocate the lingering memories. Nursing your drink, you felt the warmth of someone sliding beside you, their hand tracing your arm. It was enough to tense all the muscles in your body, your free hand coasting down to graze the blade on your thigh.

“Are you the entertainment for the night?” The voice asked.

Concealing your amusement, you turned to him, pushing down the hood of your coat. The man had a devilish grin that was both unwelcoming and horrendous. You had no interest in entertaining him. Downing the rest of your drink, you shoved away from the bar, walking towards an open booth to watch the games. 

And he followed. 

“C’mon princess,” he crooned, sitting across from you, “Don’t gotta be stubborn.”

“I suggest you leave me alone before I slice open your stomach.” You spat.

He leaned back, clearly alarmed, and stood without another word. But it was as he left something else caught your eye.

A shadow, but reflective, tore your focus away from the games. Whatever it was, the shine alone was enough to stall every player, their motions slowing as they observed the stranger. Walking in the entrance was a bounty hunter clad in shiny armor, his helmet trained on you. 

Your initial reaction was to run, but as you took in his silhouette, you narrowed your gaze on the blaster at his hip. Returning your gaze back to his helmet, he cocked his head to the side and slid a hand down to rest on the handle of the blaster.

An invitation to run.

A warning if you did.

Neither sounded appealing.

You sunk further into the cushions of the booth, pulling your hood up over your head. It wasn’t lost on you that he had already scoped you out, but to your wishful thinking, you hoped he was in the playroom looking for a bounty. Why would he be looking for you? A better question: who wanted you? A chill ran up your spine as you considered all the possibilities of why he’d be after you: theft, assault, spice smuggling. Worse of them all… Kesi had placed a high price on your head. 

But you would never return to him. 

You would fight for freedom, even if it cost you everything.

The bounty hunter stalked towards you, his steps calculated and slow as if he expected you to run. Your fingers twitched against the blade on your thigh, assessing your options.

You could run, fight, or die, and none of them sounded appealing as he grew closer, but you had to make a decision. 

And option one it was. 

You shoved out of the booth, booking past the game tables and towards the back door. The hood on your coat fell down onto your shoulders as you pushed your body into a full sprint, weaving through the smoke and crowds. The back door opened into a hazy alleyway, and you took off to the left. People stared at you strangely as you belined through the throng of citygoers, shoving through the crowds with curses falling off your lips.

“Fucking move!” You huffed, your feet padding against the asphalt. 

Distance sounds of running caught your attention, and you made the mistake of looking back to see the hunter closing the gap between crowded bodies. You pushed yourself harder, your body aching but persistent from the adrenaline rush. You’d had your fair share of spice before, but nothing compared to the rush of being hunted down. Never did you think your freedom would come to this.

A wall of bodies formed before you, onlookers enraptured in a daze of street performers. Their blissful unawareness would cost you your life, and you reached for your blade at the same moment a gloved hand wound around your bicep in a vice. You swiveled to meet the hunter face to face—well, face to helmet— and slashed the blade against the armor. It did nothing to the metal, not even a single scrape. The bounty hunter huffed, amused, and caught your wrist with his free hand. Your skin pinched between his leathered fingers, and you winced as his grip tightened. 

“Let me fucking go!” You yelled, jostling against his hold.

But he was firm, and the sounds of the crowd began to flood your ears as you attempted to break away.

“…a Mandalorian…”

“Look at the beskar…”

“Have you ever… seen one?”

A Mandalorian? 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

This wasn’t just an average bounty hunter. This was a skilled and deadly one, and you just happened to be in his grasp. You had heard stories of them while under Kesi’s control; some spice traders talked about how ruthless and dangerous they were. They were sworn to Mandalore, and they had no moral duty to anything but. 

The Mandalorian drew your body closer, his helmet dipping close to your ear.

“I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold.” His voice was warm and smooth and threatened to buckle your legs under you. “Your choice.”

Reeling back, you slammed a foot into the center of his boot, only for him to spin you around and pin you against his body. 

“Wrong choice,” he growled.

He twisted your arms back, clasping cold binders around your wrists. Shoving you forward, he guided you through the crowds of bodies, his hand tight around your elbow. You twisted your head to look back, seeing his helmet set in a firm line and his fingers wrapped around the handle of your blade. 

Fuck, this wasn’t how you expected your night to go.

The Mandalorian’s gunship sat on the city's outskirts, parked in a docking bay surrounded by other speeders and racers. A few docking employees strolled about the platforms, barely paying attention to your struggle against the beskar-clad body behind you. You had attempted several times to rip yourself from his grasp, only to be met by a hard shove forward and a few sharp words. 

(Words that flooded your bloodstream like a liquid drug.)

The ramp lowered with a hiss, and your feet stumbled up the metal flooring as the Mandalorian pushed you into the dark cargo hold of his ship. You barely had time to register your surroundings as he led you toward a carbonite chamber. Your heart sputtered erratically the closer you got, and you fought against him harder.

“Please,” you begged, dragging your feet as far as he’d let you.

“Enough,” he barked. 

Pressing you against the wall with one hand, the Mandalorian used the other to punch in a code to the freezing chamber. The metal doors opened with an expulsion of cold gas, the air sending shockwaves over your skin. As he reached for your shirt to drag you towards the chamber, you let out a series of pleas in hopes of stopping him.

“You can’t!” You cried, tears stinging your eyes as you pulled away from his grasp. “Please, I swear I’ll do anything! Just don’t put me in there. Maker, please.”

He hesitated a moment, his helmet assessing you. 

“I’ll do anything, okay?” You heaved in a breath. “I don’t know who wants me, but please!”

A beat of silence passed as he considered your confession. Tears flowed freely over your face, the shiny beskar blurring as you tried to blink them away. Everything was becoming too hazy, too much. Maker, how did you end up here?

Your body ached from the chase, your wrists burned under the friction of the binders, and the cold air from the chamber beside you was enough to fog your mind. You were teetering on the edge of passing out or dropping dead. It was becoming all too hard to breathe, and you began to gasp for air, sucking lung-fulls in to help ease the pain vibrating through your nerves.

“Just…” You panted. “…Please.”

Your body slumped against the wall, your head hitting the metal sharply, and the world around you blackened.

**

Mando had his fair share of interesting bounties, but an unconscious girl on the floor of his ship had never been one of them. Her head lulled to the side; her body crumpled against the metal ground. He had checked for a pulse, thankful there was one, and let her lay comfortably on the ground. He couldn’t just toss her into the carbonite chamber when she was unconscious. The gas would be all too powerful on weak lungs, and she would die instantly once the metal encased her. And it wasn’t a part of the bounty to bring her in dead. Nor did he particularly relish in killing women— beautiful ones at that. 

It had struck him curious that someone as beautiful as her would wind up in the hands of a bounty hunter. Her face on the holopuck had initially been a shock, and he wondered if he had received the right bounty to begin with. But Greef Karga had assured him it was correct, and the bounty price on her head was high. Too high not to pass it up.

Mando wasn't ‘soft’ by any means. He was used to the brutality and violence that surrounded his lifestyle. He welcomed the silence after a kill and the isolation of the Razor Crest between hunts. Alone. That’s all he had ever known, and nothing would make him give that up. 

But, maker, her soft breathing wasn’t helping his cause. 

He forfeited all options and made the decision to leave her sleeping on the floor. He’d set the nav to Tatooine and reassess later. Once in hyperspace, she would have nowhere to go, and when she finally woke up, then he’d put her into the chamber. That was his plan.

At least for now.

Mando sat in the cockpit alone, his hand flipping her blade in fluid motions. She was a fighter, he knew that much, and cunning. Her first instinct was to run, but she put up just as much of a fight. Usually, he’d be annoyed by a bounty that fought, but for her to fight that hard… It gave him a pause. And her pleading for help? Maker, he wondered what made her into a big enough criminal for a bounty puck. But she had to have done something to catch the eye of a hunter, let alone a hunter like him. 

He tossed her blade up in the air, catching it and flipping it back up for several minutes. Her face danced around his mind the longer he thought about her, and he gave in to climbing down into the cargo hold to check on her. 

As he climbed the ladder, he heard rustling between the cargo crates in the corner. She had tucked herself between them, making her body look smaller and more frail than before. She looked utterly helpless— like a scared child—  and something in his chest tightened. 

“Are you going to kill me?” She whispered, her eyes barely visible in the dim lighting.

His helmet moved side to side slowly as he approached her. Her arms were still bound behind her back, tightly cuffed in bindings, but her small frame fit snugly into the corner against the metal walls. Crouching down, Mando held out a hand to her.

“I’ll take the restraints off,” he offered. “But only if you promise not to cause a problem. I’m not opposed to putting you in carbonite for the rest of the flight.”

She nodded fiercely, twisting her body so that her hands were toward him. Rough hands clicked the lock open on the bindings, and Mando watched as she rubbed the skin of her wrists fervently. Still, she shrunk away from him, pulling her knees to her chest. Her slender arms wrapped around her legs, tucking them closer to her body as she shivered against the bitter cold from traveling hyperspace. 

She stared at him wide-eyed and afraid. Every bounty feared him; his beskar was a telltale sign of danger. But something about her fear didn’t sit quite right with him. 

Only a few more hours, he told himself. Then she’d be off his hands, and he’d be a few credits richer. 

“Do you know who put the bounty on me?” She asked, her voice small. She had been so fierce and loud earlier, but it was apparent she had accepted defeat.

“No,” he said truthfully. He didn’t offer much, but it was enough. 

She exhaled, eyes floating around the cargo hold and avoiding the heavy stare from behind his visor. 

“I’m afraid,” she whispered.

Fuck. He didn’t want to hear that. 

Mando had nothing to respond with, nothing that could console her. He turned from her crouched body and turned back towards the cockpit. The further a distance he could put between them, the better.

She was dangerous. 

**

“No.”

His statement was final, not allowing you to seek answers that you could cling to. The unknown was worse than knowing because there were endless outcomes you could face. You had wronged so many people, a trace of your selfishness scattered across the galaxy. You allowed yourself to lose control of the greed– finding comfort in taking from those undeserving. Too many people had taken what they wanted from you, leaving an emptiness inside you that was insatiable and never fulfilled; you only wanted to do the same to them in return. You could spend eternity trying to find ways to fill the void within you, but you wondered if it was ever enough.

“I’m afraid,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him.

 The Mandalorian remained motionless and then turned suddenly back towards the cockpit, silence filling the space between you. A sigh left your lips, and you closed your eyes, hoping to slip away from the moments that pulled you closer to an unknown fate. 

You awoke to a distant beeping from the cockpit; you were nearing the coordinates the Mandalorian had punched in hours ago. Unsure of your actions, you climbed the ladder up, peeking into the cockpit to see where he was taking you. It wasn’t until your eyes adjusted to the dimness around you that you realized what planet you were flying towards. Tatooine. 

The last place you expected to be taken to, and certainly the worst possible outcome of being captured. You knew exactly what– no, who– awaited you on Tatooine. If you had given up on pleading before, you regained the strength now, taking this as your last chance to save yourself. 

“I can’t go back to Tatooine,” you blurted out. The Mandalorian whipped his head around, glaring at you through the visor of his helmet. 

Without a response, he leaned forward in the chair, guiding the ship into a descent into the atmosphere of the desert planet. The lower it descended, the higher fear crept up inside you until it clouded all senses. He wouldn’t care what became of you; you were a pile of credits waiting to be collected. If he knew your name, it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the reward and the allegiance to his creed. You may not know him well, but you knew enough about the Mandalorian creed to know everything now was hopeless. 

The endless expanse of beige sand came into view, the winds drawing it into waves amongst the dunes. The ship flew further into the terrain, coming to a halt on the outskirts of Mos Eisley. It had been only a few standard years since you had been taken from your home, vowing never to return. Now you were back, existing among the ghosts and regrets of the past. 

The gunship touched down onto the rolling sands of Mos Eisley, the ramp opening slowly, giving way to the heat from outside. It flooded through the ship, a light sweat breaking out on the nape of your neck. The Mandalorian rose to his feet, his armored body turning your way. He reached down, grabbing your wrists, easing your body down the ladder. There was no inclination of emotions from his body, the rise and fall of his breastplate the only evidence that he was indeed a living creature. 

Creature he was as he pulled you down the stairs, leading you through the cargo hold that was littered with mindless tokens he had picked up along his trails of bounties. The ramp exposed you to the brightness of the sand, your eyes quickly squinting against the landscape. You drug your feet against the metal, hoping to stall your exile from all human existence. If you were certain of anything, your fate was not too far off. 

Below the binary suns stood two dark figures, their faces hidden by brimmed hats. The hats were enough of a giveaway to know who they were… and exactly why you dreaded stepping foot on the planet. Your body halted, feet firmly set against the sand, body paralyzed. The Mandalorian slid his hand under the crook of your elbow, urging you forward in silence. He didn’t flinch when you tried to hit him, wrists falling against hard beskar. 

“Please,” you begged, tears brimming your eyes. “You can’t give me to them.”

He remained wordless, only nudging your body forward once more. You mustered up enough energy to fight his hold, spinning to face him fully. His helmet slowly rolled to the side, studying your face as tears fell onto your cheeks. Desperation kicked in, your mind reeling with any offer you could give him. 

“Please,” your voice was weak, “Kill me.”

He made no reaction to your words, so you tried again. 

“Keep me. I’ll do anything you ask. Just keep me from them. You can have me!”

The Mandalorian hesitated a moment, a beat passing before he reacted. The reaction was the exact opposite of what you had hoped; your body pulled further away from the ship… and closer to the figures standing firm within the sand. Tears dried against your cheeks as the warmth of the air burned your skin, leaving your eyes red and dry. The faces of the men came into view as they lifted their heads and exposed their dirtied faces. 

“Mando!” One exclaimed. He was the taller of the two, yellow skin nearly blending into the background behind him, purple eyes piercing you below his hat. You knew him as Jado, an employee of your former employer. “Your efficiency is commendable. She is precious cargo for our boss, and he thanks you for your work.”

The other man, whom you knew as Gaff, tossed a satchel of credits at the Mandalorian’s feet. He didn’t break his gaze from the two men, caring very little of the reward now in his possession. 

“Please,” you spoke once more. His helmet turned to you slowly, and you hoped he could see life fading from your irises. 

“Alright, come on,” Jado spit out your name, ripping you from the Mandalorian’s hold. The bounty hunter freed your wrists from his grasp, only for them to be tugged forward by Jado’s dirt-covered hands. His hands were caked in dirt, traces of spice crusted under his fingernails. The metal restraints you had worn only a few hours ago were now replaced by their own bindings, ones made from rough rope that scratched your skin enough to bleed. 

“Kesi will be very happy to see you,” Jado said sarcastically. 

Your head turned back to watch the Mandalorian– now understood as Mando– fade into the distance. The shine of his beskar glinted in the harsh sun, splintering into fractures of metal and weapons. The nerves within your body sparked in anger, anger from knowing he brought you to your ultimate fate. You knew it was his job; you were merely a bounty fit for a large reward, but you wanted to believe he was still a man under the layers of armor. A man who battled empathy far beyond the bounds of his creed. 

Jado situated your body on the speeder, hauling his own body behind yours. You were all too aware of his body pressed against your back. The heat radiating from his mouth and onto your neck began to nauseate you. Glancing over, you saw Gaff straddle his own speeder, nodding once at Jado– an urge to begin moving. Gaff followed behind Jado’s speeder, the sound of its engine muffling your ears until they grew deaf. Mos Eisley was exactly as you had left it: crawling with slimy criminals and reeking of sour booze. As your heart pounded heavier against your ribs, you watched as each cantina and spaceport drifted out of view. With each passing moment, you grew dreadfully close to Kesi’s junkyard and closer to your death.

The junkyard was littered with newer ship parts; bolts and metal plates scattered the ground. The familiar workstation that sat vacant in the corner caught your eye. It had been your workstation, at least back when your family owned the yard. Now, it was in the possession of Kesi Jissard, one of the most feared spice traders in the galaxy. The same man that forced you into the trading world, baiting you to sell and trade on the promise of freedom. But freedom never came. Not until you found a way to buy it. 

The slow rhythm of hands clapping echoed around the empty ship hanger. Your head was on a  swivel, eyes wildly searching for the origin of the sound. Emerging from the shadows, Kesi continued to clap, an evil smirk creasing his yellow-tinted skin. 

Kesi spoke your name, his thick accent cutting the silence. “I’ve missed you.”

You bit your tongue, suppressing the urge to talk back, knowing it would only lead to more suffering. Kesi had a short temper, usually satiated by bruising skin and smoking blasters. But when you didn’t respond, he stepped forward, reaching for your jaw. His grip was bruising as he wagged your head back and forth. 

“You’ve caused me a lot of damage,” he spoke slowly as if every syllable was a drop of poison on your skin. “I’m in debt for thousands of credits, and because you decided to run, I had to spend even more just to hunt you down.”

“You could have let me keep running,” you said, words muffled from his hold on your chin.

Kesi’s dark eyes widened, glistening with premeditated thoughts of harm. He squeezed your chin and pulled away with such force that it left your head falling backward. 

“You’ve missed out on a lot of work,” he mused, pacing between you and the workstation aside from you. “There will be a lot of clients happy to see your return.”

“I’d rather die,” you spat, stepping forward. Where you found the courage, you don’t know. 

“Trust me,” Kesi chuckled, “I would love to kill you. But you’re far more valuable alive than dead. You’re of more use to me when you’re breathing and working.”

Kesi turned away from you, searching through the remnants of the workstation. With his large body blocking the view of what he found, your heart lurched with uncertainty. He clicked his tongue in satisfaction, holding a black bag up to the dim light of the station lamp. Your heart plummeted into your stomach, nausea coursing up through your esophagus. Turning to you, Kesi donned a broad grin, evil basking in the stretch of his lips against his cheeks. 

“We’ve got a new product on the market now,” he began, walking towards you again. 

You stumbled as you took a step back, knowing you wouldn’t be able to go much further without someone snatching you and dragging you right back. 

Kesi continued, “Since you’re going to sell it for me, you might as well try it.”

You watched as he unraveled the string of the bag, a smaller wrapped bag falling into his hands. The spice was an unusual color compared to the rest; its pigment was closer to black than the usual beige-brown you had been used to selling. Your pulse was rising alarmingly, and you wondered if Kesi could see the fear seeping from your eyes. The fear fell in waves of quiet tears, your lips wavering but never making a noise. 

“Why don’t you sit?” he insisted, yanking you by the elbow to the workman's chair by the desk. 

All you could do was comply, regardless of the nagging that pricked your brain in sharp pinpoints. You wished you had the strength to fight him. You wished you had the words to beg for a different outcome. 

You wished the Mandalorian had listened to your pleas. 

But the Mandalorian was gone and a richer man now, too. And here you were, helpless once more and three steps back from freedom. 

The second your ass hit the seat of the chair, Kesi was wrapping a hand around your wrists, pinning you against the wooden material. With the free hand he had, Kesi dipped a finger into the powdered substance, lifting it to your lips. 

“C’mon princess,” he hissed, “Open that pretty mouth of yours.”

You made no effort to open your mouth, your jaw locked and refusing to fall slack. Kesi’s mood changed into a slow-burning anger, his fingers bruising your skin. You squirmed against the seat, looking around the workstation for anything capable of substantial harm. The desk was nearly clean, sans a few miscellaneous tokens and scrap spice containers. 

“Open. Your. Mouth.” 

Kesi’s removed his hand from your wrists, only to deliver the most jarring slap across your cheek. It sent your head reeling, leaving you little time to recover. Your mouth fell open, groaning at the severity of the hit, and the surmounting pain replaced every emotion stirring within you. He took your vulnerability as an opportunity, his spice-covered finger slipping onto your tongue. 

You hadn’t tasted spice in years. It was not something you enjoyed recreationally, nor did you enjoy selling. In a professional setting, spice was seen as a delicacy for some of the richer citizens in the lower rim. Spice was well sought out, and if you had access to the right employers, spice production would be endless. 

But as the product dissolved on your tongue, it didn’t take long for the effects to begin to form. Words from Kesi’s lips grew into jumbles, falling on deaf ears. Your vision began blurring, too, and soon enough, all of your senses were paralyzed. It was as if you were watching from the furthest part of your brain, floating away from the controls inside your body. Becoming all too aware of the heaviness of your body, you slowly felt your shoulders slump over, your body weight no longer supported in the chair. Eyes fluttering shut, you wondered if another side effect of the spice was hallucinations. 

Because you could have sworn you saw a glimpse of shiny metal walking into the junkyard.

[haveyouplayedthisttrpg]

Have you played RACCOON SKY PIRATES ?

By Chris Sellers

Raccoon Sky Pirates is a narrative, GM-less role-playing game for 3 to 6 players that takes about three hours to play. Take to the skies, loot a suburban home of all the trash you can carry, and try to keep your ship from exploding.

You and your friends play raccoons: chittering, baggy-pants, ring-tailed burglars. One day in the junkyard, after inventing an improbable antigravity device, you hatch a scheme to build a ship out of trash and fly to the suburbs in search of better trash. There, you'll find a beautiful, free-standing house with a four-car garage and cable internet. While trying not to wake up the residents or the dog, loot the house of all its valuables, like Roombas, PlayStations and other trash. Finally, loaded down, escape back to the junkyard while fending off the Neighborhood Watch.

[crocodilenjoyer]

op fic recs 3

personal favorites bolded!!

G

what's another night on mars? by genesis_frog | post-canon | | gen, straw hats-centric | 5.1k | complete

“Marriage, to many, is a sacred, romantic vow. A promise between lovers to live together and die together. Whoever said that that love had to be romantic? There are so many kinds of love that exist, and surely, can’t the bond between friends be celebrated eternally?”

Luffy has An Idea, or: Five Times the Straw Hats Discussed Getting Married and the One Time They Actually Did

In the Belly of the Junkyard by alpha_hydra | pre-canon | gen, kid & killer | 2.5k | complete

Kid isn't very good at making friends. He's been told by adults and children alike that he's rude, or else that he's too hot-headed, or that if he keeps holding grudges like he does, no one is going to stick around for long. Until one day, he meets a boy with a mean right hook, and everything changes.

Somewhere I Have (Never) Travelled by alpha_hydra | marineford | gen, ace-centric | 7.2k | complete

Now: the sun rises, and Ace lives.

AKA, Ace lives, but it takes a while to get us there.

and yet we keep walking by freckledshoulderblades | post-marineford, some information from luffy's flashback | gen, deuce-centric | 4.2k | complete

Three years after Marineford, Deuce arrives on Dawn Island to ask after Dadan and learn more about the man Ace was.

Like Ink Through Her Veins by grainjew | during timeskip | vivi-centric, background namivivi | 5.6k | complete

Vivi manages, away from her crew. Usually, managing means ruling a country, reading the newspaper, and checking up on her father.

Sometimes, though, it means sneaking out of the palace at midnight and getting drunk with passing pirates.

across ocean tides and snow-covered hills by nevermordor | post-canon | gen, ace & luffy | 3.6k | complete

After two whole years, after everything that’s happened, he wants Luffy to look different. But he still has the same scrawny arms and narrow shoulders, still wears the same ratty old flip flops and hat. The only real change is the scar across his chest, to match Ace’s own.

“Everyone’s been saying you beat me here by like a whole day or something,” Ace remarks. Luffy starts in surprise, his head swiveling around, eyes wide. “I say, so what. Try beating me at something that actually matters, like wrestling, see if I don’t still win.”

--

Ace and Luffy come home for the winter.

all's fair in love and war by guiltylights | ambiguous setting, post-timeskip | gen, hancock-centric | 3.7k | complete

This far from the lights and sounds of the party the only thing Hancock can hear is the crashing of the waves, close to their feet—and the calming sound of Luffy, snoring loudly and contently, his chest rising and receding with each breath, just slightly out of sync with the sea. There’s just a little light, reflecting from the moon over the silvery dark waters, to see by, but enough to see clearly. And maybe it’s the combination of all these factors at once, of both safety and ambiguity, that makes Hancock even deign to consider answering the sniper seriously.

‘You love him,’ she says, staring out to the sea. She has one long leg crossed elegantly over the other, is reclining back with one arm draped over a knee, ‘and thus, I will compete with you for his affections.’

The sniper frowns. ‘When I said I loved him, I meant that as a friend, or a crew-member does. Like—a brother?’

For the first time in her life, Hancock confronts what it all really means—to love, and be loved, with her beauty.

nothing to do (with you) by guiltylights | post-wano | gen, zeff-centric | 4.3k | complete

The man who just entered moves, slowly and purposefully, as though demanding everybody’s attention be on him, until he stops right in the middle of the restaurant, in front of where Zeff is.

Zeff eyes him over his food. ‘To what do I owe this visit,’ Zeff says mildly, ‘Vinsmoke Judge?’

Across from him, the militant monarch of the Germa Kingdom takes a seat.

Judge thinks that Sanji is a failure of a son. Zeff doesn't think that much of Judge at all.

children of the damned by guiltylights | during alabasta | gen | 2k | complete

A finger traces almost carelessly around the rim of the wine glass, but Ace watches from the corner of his eye how that finger never wavers from its steady trajectory, the line of the glass always pressed exactly in the middle of that finger, and knows this woman is anything but relaxed. Confident, perhaps, but not relaxed; the bow of her spine is stiff and unyielding, taut like a too-tight string under the loose soft layers of her fur coat, and Ace wonders briefly whether that’s why she wears it in this fucking sauna-like desert country – to hide the stiffness of her back, her smile – before pushing the thought away to the recesses of his brain. It’s absolutely none of his goddamn business.

Devil child, Ace remembers.

T

how could oceans come between us by merikai | post-wano | gen, monster trio-centric | 4.2k | complete

Zoro really has no idea how they ended up here in the first place.

or: monster trio in a marine base what will they do

all summer on bloody knees by ghostwit | pre-canon | kidkiller | 3.1k | complete

"Kiss me, asshole," he says.

(Partially based on SBS87. They're maybe mid-late teens here.)

Gold-Tinted Days by needchocolatenow | ambiguous setting, post-timeskip | zolu | 4.3k | complete

Luffy had Zoro—always.

there is thunder in our hearts by taizi | marineford, information from dressrosa | gen, asl brothers | 6.7k | complete

He’s not close enough. He’s not going to make it. Even if he managed to shake off the soldiers in front of him and just threw his whole body at full-speed between Luffy and Akainu to take the blow, he wouldn’t get there fast enough. He doesn’t have enough time. He’s going to lose another brother, only this time it’s going to happen right in front of his eyes, from seven—five—three feet away.

He’s ten years old again and learning what grief is. He’s ten years old and all that’s left of Sabo is the letter in his hand and a shared dream and the promise that Ace will look after their silly baby brother while he’s gone. 

“DON’T TOUCH HIM!” Ace screams. It’s pure desperation. It’s the last human thing he’ll ever say if Luffy dies here. 

A Different Father by LPSunnyBunny | marineford | gen, buggy-centric | 1.2k | complete

Before they get to Marineford, Buggy finds out about Ace's parentage- and fuck, he can't just let his captain's son die. Time to improvise.

toragara by Origamidragons | pre-canon, information from luffy's flashback | gen, zoro & luffy | 5.1k | complete

There's a tiger on Mount Colubo.

(Luffy makes a friend.)

it burns a hole through everyone by taizi | post-dressrosa | gen, luffy & sabo | 3.4k | complete

“I bet that some people, who fought in that war for Ace, who loved him and didn’t even know me, wish that it had happened differently.” Luffy still doesn’t look up, expression unreadable when he adds, “Sabo loves us both, but he loved Ace longer.”

If Sabo had been stabbed with sea stone, it would have hurt less. If he had burned with the Grey Terminal, or drowned at sea in front of the Celestial Dragons, it would have hurt less than this.

He’s on his feet before he’s aware of moving, seat tipping over and rolling away behind him. He can feel the steam start to lift off his super-heated skin as Ace’s fire inside him reacts to the way his heart is racing.

“Don’t say that,” he says, too loud, almost a shout.

to cut your teeth on love by freckledshoulderblades | shells town through post-timeskip | zolu | 10.6k | complete

Zoro meets Luffy and gives himself over wholeheartedly the instant Wadō is placed between his teeth again. Luffy meets Zoro and decides in a heartbeat that Zoro is his.

waters of the wild by LadyCrimsonAndBlack | post-whiskey peak through post-punk hazard | gen, straw hats-centric | 4k | complete

Even to his nakama, Luffy sometimes appears just a little bit too odd.

(Or: Five times a Straw Hat notices something strange about Luffy, and the one time someone knows what's going on.)

Singing, When You Don't Know How to Pray by ghostwriterofthemachine | pre-canon through post-timeskip | gen, straw hats-centric | 12.7k | complete

So why was Luffy so determined to get a musician for his crew?

Or: Song, singing, and shanties on the high seas.

Before the Storm by orphan account | post-timeskip, pre-wano | kidkiller | 2.3k | complete

"Under the light of the sun, so similar to that of the South Blue, and the silhouettes of dying men, they dig a big fire pit into the sand and gather around it. The only order Kid gives that day is to celebrate their victory over the Marine vessels now littering the ocean floor. It had been an easy fight, looking back, but it keeps the crew happy and Kid isn’t one to dismiss a chance for drinking."

triskelion by razbliuto | pre-canon | boa sisters-centric | 5k | complete

Sink your fangs in, sister, and don't let go. — The Boa Sisters, still breathing despite all odds.

M

Squash and Stretch by LPSunnyBunny | marineford, information from wano | gen, ace & luffy | 3.3k | complete | TEMPORARY MCD

In one world, Ace takes the blow for Luffy and dies in his arms.

In this one, Luffy reacts just fast enough to push Ace aside and save him, taking the blow himself.

and its companion,

Kiki and Boba by LPSunnyBunny | marineford, information from wano | gen, ace & luffy | 5.3k | complete | TEMPORARY MCD

Ace's perspective of Squash and Stretch in which he is terrified for his little brother because what the FUCK IS THAT.

life's yard full of rakes by ghostwit | pre-canon | gen, crocodile-centric | 3k | complete

It's crude work, cudgel and bolt and human flesh; Crocodile can feel the bone splintering, the little shards embedding in the tissue around the shattering when they drive the great, rusted stake through his hand.

day 24: self induced injuries to escape

E

Axiomatic by KBstories | post-wano | kidkiller | 5.3k | complete

ax·i·om·at·ic (adj.) Self-evident; unquestionable.

*

The best part of battle is the afterparty.

[moonlightblueandicegrey]

Jay and Ronin headcanons and personal opinions because of my last post:

Why they could have been good friends:

• Ronin is a thief - Jay is a little bit of a pirate (Jay could have been a great pirate, you can't change my mind).

• Ronin doesn't think that stealing is a bad thing because he is a thief. I believe that Jay thinks the same way:

When the ninja wanted to take the airjitzu papyrus from Ronin's shop in Stiix and Jay became a leader, his first thought was to steal the papyrus. He also tried to make stealing sound like a nice/positive thing in that situation by saying things like: "we are stealing from a thief", "we are stealing something someone stole so we can give it back to the original owner (after using it)".

Stealing is still bad no matter the final result but neither Ronin nor Jay think that way.

Also, Jay had no problem stealing those ninja chips in skybound. He was hungry, yes, but he was still going to steal.

• Both Ronin and Jay value money a lot:

I don't know Ronin's back story so i don't know why he values money so much but he definitely does for some reason. You can see it in many of his lines and through his actions.

Jay on the other hand wanted so much to be rich in skybound. He thought money could impress the girl he loved. He was also sad and embarrassed in general about the fact that he was poor.

• They are both betraying others:

Ronin betrayed the ninja lots of times and Jay did too in Skybound

• They both use fake personalities to get what they want/they are manipulative:

Ronin manipulated the ninja in possession and skybound by acting like a nice guy to get what he wanted and reach his goals.

Jay also uses a fake personality. His 24/7 smile is fake to me. He might use it, to cheer his friends and himself up, to hide his true emotions and feelings, to hide his real and honest thoughts, to keep enemies guessing, to look innocent, weak and even stupid while in reality he isn't and probably, to seem like he doesn't care about anything or anyone (like he doesn't need help). No matter what, he still manipulates others to think he is someone else and hides his actual personality. I can see Jay wearing an invisible mask, that thing being stuck on his face, he got so used to it that now he doesn't even know who he actually is anymore.

• They are both liars:

Ronin lies a lot to everyone in order to reach his goals. I remember that time in Seabound when he made the wooden Wo-Jira.

Jay also lies, during skybound especially, but i think he also lied to the other ninja about his home (he didn't want to say that he lived in a junkyard) and about the skybound events after his last wish. I don't believe he told them the truth about Nadakhan right away. Also, he lied to Nya about the Fangpyre's bite and how he almost became a serpentine on their first date.

• Both Jay and Ronin were probably born poor (I'm talking about Ed and Edna) and abandoned by their parents (Cliff and Libber). I think Ronin was also abandoned by his parents when he was a baby.

............................................................................

So, yeah... in conclusion, i believe that Jay and Ronin could have been good friends if things were different for them and if they had met each other differently.

(Jay is so relatable to me, I'm kinda worried now)

[6-and-7]

Hues of June 15 Doctor Whooves in An Unearthly Filly! Bonus, I've hidden one reference to every TV First Doctor story in this image -- how many can you spot? (Answers below the cut) (Monochrome TV version also below the cut)

An Unearthly Child - The whole Junkyard, but also pipe, top of lower left crate The Daleks - Anti-Radiation drugs, upper left The Edge of Destruction - Scissors, lower right Marco Polo - Backgammon set, right of TARDIS The Keys of Marinus - DE3O2, upper left The Aztecs - Gold bracelet, middle right The Sensorites - Sensorite Poster, upper right The Reign of Terror - Guillotine, upper right

Planet of Giants - Telephone, top of lower left crate The Dalek Invasion of Earth - TARDIS key, middle right The Rescue - Spaceship Poster, upper left The Romans - Harp, center left The Web Planet - Spider & Web, middle right The Crusade - Flag, upper middle The Space Museum - Penny-farthing, above Barbara's head The Chase - Camera, by the Doctor's hooves The Time Meddler - Viking helmet, upper right

Galaxy 4 - Chumbley, just below the Viking helmet Mission to the Unknown - Varga plant, upper edge above Ian's ear The Myth Makers - Trojan Horse, right of the Doctor's tail The Daleks' Master Plan - Mavic Chen Poster, above Barbara The Massacre of St Bartholomew's Eve - Bell, between Ian and the TARDIS The Ark - Monoid Poster, left of Barbara's tail The Celestial Toymaker - Trilogic Game, directly under mannequin hoof The Gunfighters - Cowboy hat, upper right The Savages - Big clear box, behind Barbara The War Machines - War Machine, lower right

The Smugglers - Pirate hat, upper right The Tenth Planet - Cyberman Poster, upper right

[forgeworldweatherreport]

So last night was the first session of my new Lancer campaign, using @vexwerewolf 's In Golden Flame. This iteration of the Hell's Gate Strategic Response Team got a chance to socialize while doing maintenance work, chatted with residents and had lunch at the Happy Noodle Bar (with this version of the proprietor based on Maya Killsixbilliondemons), and were briefed on the station's woes and their next assignment by the terminally stressed Jerry. Next week, they will sortie in a brave endeavor to break the pirate blockade of the station!

This squad includes: -Sétanta "Set" Hawkins, Callsign 'Cornfed', heir to a family that has been part of the Hell's Gate militia since the pyrite age, passing down the callsign and their mech ever since (the latter of which has long ceased to contain any original parts, grandfather's axe style). He's aiming towards monarch parts to enact that one Megas XLR gif.

-Meadow Reaper, Callsign 'Reaper', a bubbly farmer from Asphodel with a militarized farming rig (counts-as a caliban) who joined up for adventure at the advice of a mysterious patron.

-Pale Sage, Callsign 'Porcelain', a hell's gate foundryworker who suffered a horrific industrial accident, only kept alive through donated HORUS tech. She awoke with a transformed body, a knowledge of a strange language of clashing metal, and an appreciation of the purity of the machine. Her new favourite podcaster (who is definitely not an Elesh-Norn-coded deimosian) occasionally sends her gifts. She will

-Hara Stevens, Callsign 'Junkyard', a feral little creechure of a raccoongirl with incredible tech skills, a cyber arm with integrated multitools, dubious personal hygiene, and an NHP puppygirl gf. Her ride is a salvaged IPS-N Kidd missing some core parts (counts as an Everest for now) which will be brought up to full spec, and she is so so eepy.

[goodlucktai]

If you're taking prompts and like this one might I request Sabo's pov on 'if I go I'm going on fire?'

That fic absolutely floored me it was so incredibly good. I just had to lie there and process it. But I can't stop thinking about how afraid Sabo must be that Ace will be angry but it would never stop him from going to try to help Ace, who doesn't even know he's not the last of the three...regardless if you want to write this I just had to tell you how much I loved it!

quite the keeper of you

read on ao3

x

When Sabo was fished up out of the sea as a child, all he had to his name were the clothes on his back and an ancient monocular telescope tucked safely away in his inner coat pocket. And that was all he had. And when he woke up initially, he was half out of his mind, hysterical, begging not to go back to wherever he’d come from. So for all he knew, he wasn’t leaving anything worthwhile behind. 

It’s a sick joke. He’s waiting for someone to pull the curtain back and laugh, to let him in on it. 

“You’re my brother!” Straw Hat screams, claiming Portgas D. Ace for the whole world to hear, plunging headlong into a war like it didn’t make sense for him to be anywhere else. The broadcast is shaky, grainy, but Sabo can still see the way Fire Fist’s face crumples in terror and anger and something specific to older siblings—something Sabo’s heart recognizes in that split-second.

Did you know? If you share a cup of sake, that makes you—

Sabo stands frozen, his brain on fire, the rest of his body encased in ice. Images were crowding forward; a rainforest with rich, colorful foliage and giant beasts, a bandit hut that was always waiting for them when they decided to give into the elements and slink inside for the night, a junkyard they picked through for treasures, though it took forever nowadays, because one of them always had to look after the little crybaby and make sure he didn’t drag something stupid home. 

A kingdom square, unkind faces looking down on them. A treehouse where they could see for miles. A tiny body crawling under his blanket during a storm, and the automatic way Sabo put his arm around them, mumbling without waking up all the way, “This is the last time, Lu.”

For a moment, in the footage, it looks like they’ll get away. They’re running to the wharf, backed on all sides by allies, and Sabo finds himself holding his breath. Straw Hat is beginning to flag, but Fire Fist has a firm hand wrapped around his arm, is pulling him resolutely towards the sea. 

Then for some reason, he stops. He whirls to face Akainu, face distended in a snarl. 

No, no, no, you idiot, Sabo thinks with a fury that nearly blinds him. What are you doing, keep running, freedom is right behind you! 

You idiot, come on!

When there’s an enemy in front of me, I won’t run. 

When it happens, Ace is seconds too slow to stop it, an arm’s length away, his face the picture of horror. All around Sabo, the air goes out of the room with an audible sound, everyone sucking in a short, pained breath. 

“Oh, no,” Koala whispers, putting her hand on his wrist. “Sabo, I know you really liked him. I’m sorry.”

Her sympathy is genuine and meaningful—she liked that rookie pirate, too. It’s impossible not to like him. His devil-may-care, take-no-shit attitude, how daring and reckless and joyful he was as he threw himself into each new corner of the world. Sabo always found himself gravitating towards Straw Hat’s Wanted posters the same way he did Fire Fist’s. He always lingered to look at their faces an extra second. He never knew why.

And now Straw Hat is—

This means that from now on, the three of us will always be—

The broadcast starts to shake. The transponder snail is curling and shriveling away from what must be an intense heat. A Devil Fruit awakens on Marineford, broadcast to the world, as Fire Fist Ace lights up like a supernova and cremates everything in front of him. The man who killed his brother dies in seconds. His own allies are pushed far away, back and back and back. No one is able to reach him. 

And he’s screaming. When the transmission ends abruptly, Sabo can still hear him screaming. 

He’s weak, and a crybaby, but he’s still our little brother. Look after him for me. 

##

When Sabo boards the Moby Dick, he’s alone. He sailed in a straight line from Baltigo to intercept the Whitebeards without waiting for approval or permission from anyone. He didn’t even requisition the cutter, he just took it.

Less than two weeks after the Summit War, it’s a grave-faced group that greets him on the ship. Sabo doesn’t see the gargantuan figure of their captain abovedeck, so he casts around reflexively with observation haki and deduces that he must be resting in his quarters. 

“What business does a Revolutionary have here?” Marco the Phoenix asks, with as much veiled threat as Sabo expected, though decidedly less than he deserves. 

“Fire Fist,” Sabo says. All around him, hackles go up. “I’m here to speak with him.”

“He’s not exactly seeing visitors at the moment,” Marco grits out. 

“He’ll see me,” Sabo replies, as steady and solid as a rock face that the ocean crashes against. He speaks as if his hands aren’t shaking, as if there isn’t a pit in his stomach that it’s hard to breathe around, as if he feels anything else but cold.

It takes four minutes for Portgas D. Ace to appear. He walks like a puppet, something recently brought to life that is still figuring out its autonomy. His eyes are dark and endless and if there’s a spark left in them at all, Sabo can’t see it from where he’s standing. Ace turns his head and picks Sabo from the crowd as the outlier remarkably fast, hardly needing haki to do it. 

It takes four seconds for confusion to surface through the apathy, hints of it touching Ace’s face; the narrowing of his eyes, the downward turn of his mouth. And then it’s six seconds after that for understanding to set in, a swift river rush of it, followed by a tiny little silverfish dart of wonder. And then grief and rage trample over everything else, hand-in-hand. 

Ace is on top of him an instant later. It’s a full-body tackle, and they go rolling across the deck in the type of knockdown, drag-out brawl that Sabo only just remembers from another life. It was like learning how to swim by jumping in the deep end—the wild boy from the forest had taught Sabo how to fight as if his life was on the line. They skipped things like how to tuck in your elbows and untuck your thumbs. Ace’s lessons involved finding the soft underbelly of your opponent and digging into it with tooth and nail. 

The accident at sea that stole his memories away took those lessons, too, but his body remembered them. And while formal training with the Army was much different than wrestling with his brother in the woods, Sabo always had a bit of a nasty streak his teachers despaired over.

“You don’t have to bite,” he remembers Hack saying with measured patience. “This is a class, not life-or-death.”

Of course it is, Sabo had found himself on the verge of snapping. If I don’t fight for my life, someone else will take it. If we don’t fight for each other, no one else will. 

But he didn’t know where the thought had come from. And he was discomfited by the way his instructors were watching him, and the way Koala stared at him, at the smear of blood left on the corner of his mouth, like she suddenly saw something in his face that she recognized in herself. So he didn’t say anything at all.

Now he knows. Ace showed him how to protect himself in a brutal, bloody, final way, because Ace loved him enough to want him to exist at any cost. Live, those lessons taught him. Survive. 

Voices cry out and feet stamp around like people are trying to get close enough to tear them apart—but Ace’s fire shoves his crewmates back, a wall of snapping, snarling teeth that towers above Sabo from all sides. 

It licks against him without burning. Ace’s hands are another story. He’s hitting to hurt.

Sabo absorbs every blow, and even when his face is tender and swelling and his lip is bleeding, it still doesn’t feel like enough. 

Ace clutches the front of his waistcoat and hauls him half upright, expression twisted into something bleak and hateful. It’s the way he looked at Sabo when they were children and still strangers to each other. The first time they were strangers to each other.

“If you were going to come back from the dead, it should have been for him,” Ace snarls. “What the fuck are you doing here? What’s the fucking point now?”

I should have been there is on the tip of Sabo’s tongue, but it seems a waste of breath to say something everyone already knows. I’m sorry surfaces next, is the obvious right thing, but what he actually says is, “I had to come.”

His voice is just barely more than a whisper. Ace’s face only screws up more. 

Ten years ago, it would have gone without saying. Maybe they wouldn’t have needed to speak at all. The only person in the world who really understood Sabo, who could look him in the eye and practically read his mind, was his best friend. His twin brother. 

But now he’s staring at Sabo like he’s never seen any creature like him before. 

“I had to,” Sabo chokes out. “Ace, I had to.”

Even if you hate me, he doesn’t say. You’re my brother. I’ll always come for you. 

Ace drops him. Sabo’s head hits the deck with a solid knock, his brain ringing inside his skull like a gong. He’s still waiting for his double vision to clear when Ace lays down next to him. Their shoulders are touching, and even when Sabo’s starts to shake with the force of his sobbing, Ace stays pressed against his side. 

Their shoulders are touching, and the fire, when it finally closes in, still doesn’t burn. 

##

“I’m stepping down,” Ace says suddenly. “From the Whitebeards.”

Sabo rolls his head to the side to look at him. Ace goes on staring up at the sky and doesn’t look back. They’re still sprawled on the deck. Ace’s crewmates have been giving the brothers a wide berth since they stopped seemingly trying to kill each other but a wary few of them are still lingering nearby. If they’re close enough to overhear, they don’t give any indication. 

“The Straw Hats,” Ace says, “Luffy’s people. They’re monsters, like us. They love the way monsters love. They’re gonna drag as much of the World Government down to hell with them as they can. I’m going, too.”

He lifts his hand, holding it out above him. It ignites, merry orange flames crackling from his skin, sending shadows flickering across his blank face. Then all the color bleeds away until it’s a ghostly thing, shock white with hints of blue, and the packed heat becomes searing and uncomfortable. It superheats the air like a flash fire; Sabo can feel it in his lungs, but he doesn’t move away. 

Luffy burned. His last breath was agony, choked with smoke. There isn’t a force on this planet that could hurt Sabo as much as knowing that. If the fire in Ace’s hand leaped over and caught him and he went up like rice paper, it wouldn’t even come close. 

“Don’t want my name attached to Pops anymore,” Ace goes on. “Don’t want him claiming the consequences for my choices this time.”

Sabo asks, “What did he say?”

“Called me a stupid kid,” Ace recounts like it’s something that happened to someone else. “Said I could go as far away as I wanted for as long as I wanted and my family would be still waiting for me when I decided to come back home.”

There’s a quirk at the corner of his mouth, not quite a smile. It’s some distant cousin of wry humor but not the real thing. Sabo gets the joke—“come back home.” As if that’s a place that exists anymore. 

“I told my boss the same thing,” he offers, “more or less.”

His conversation with Dragon was less a conversation and more the total destruction of the communications room. Sabo doesn’t remember all of it. He does remember the rawness of his throat, the leftover ache of screaming, “Why weren’t you there? Why weren’t we there?” and the splinters in his hands from the broken furniture he’d hurled at the walls. 

“I’m on sabbatical,” Sabo says mildly.

Ace finally turns to look at him. He’s different from Sabo’s recovered memories of him. He’s different from his Wanted posters, even. Gone is that proud, angry little boy, and that devilishly grinning pirate. He was a big brother before he was anything else, and now he isn’t that anymore. It’s carved a hole into him, scooping out the golden, shining parts that it took years to cultivate. All that’s left is the burnt remains of something once wild and beautiful. 

He could be all those things again, Sabo thinks. If he tried. If he leaned on the support and love of his crew. If he let himself hurt and then let himself heal. If Sabo were a better person, he would make Ace try. 

But he isn’t. Sabo is burnt remains, too. 

“Pops told Luffy’s monsters it was suicide,” Ace says. “He says there’s no way we can accomplish what we want to do. He doesn’t get it.”

“No,” Sabo agrees, not unkindly. “But he will.”

Life is a series of lessons. 

Sabo taught his brothers how to steal, how to be cunning—how to slip through High Town in their ratty shoes and dirty clothes like they were invisible, the way he learned to maneuver the mansion his parents lived in. Ace taught them how to fight bigger, stronger people—how to go for the soft, unguarded places, how to dig in with your teeth until you won. 

Luffy taught them, too. Every single day. How to be silly. How to laugh at themselves. How to face the day like it was an adventure instead of a challenge. How to pry open the guarded cages of their hearts so that it became possible for other people to sneak in there down the road. How to dream huge, impossible dreams, and go on dreaming them even when no one believed in you but you. 

This, their stubborn little brother showed them, day after day after day, grin stretching beneath a straw hat that Sabo would never get to watch him grow into, hands always open and reaching for them, is what you fight for. 

And the Marines thought they had any right to touch him. To take him. To drive a fist through the heart of the one purely good thing in this world. The audacity leaves Sabo breathless. 

“There are battles we have to lose,” Dragon had said, sitting in the middle of a ruined room like he’d been chiseled from stone, the beginnings of a terrible, pitch-black storm in his eyes, “in order to win the war.”

But there was no such thing as winning now. Not for Sabo, or Ace, or the Straw Hats. There was only taking as many of those people down as they possibly could, and making it bloody, and making it brutal, and leaving behind something that it would be impossible to ever forget. Something historians would discuss only in whispers for the next hundred years. 

They’ll remember him, Sabo thinks, eyes roaming away from Ace, back towards the sky. Maybe there are stars up there tonight, maybe the moon is full and beautiful. All he sees is the blackness in between, the empty space. We’ll make them remember. We’ll teach them what it means to do what they’ve done. 

And then they would finally see their little brother again, and they would tell him all about it. 

[s10127470]

Franchise Idea: Nickelodeon Kingdoms

What you're seeing right now is actually real.

This is the official title card for an online Nickelodeon game called Nick Kingdoms, released back in 2014.

The premise of that game is that it's set in a fantasy world where various Nickelodeon shows (specifically those from the Nicktoons line-up) co-exist as separate kingdoms.

As you could tell by the title card, you can see various Nickelodeon from around that time being completely redesigned from this whole new universe!

SpongeBob looks like a pirate captain.

The Breadwinners look like they're part of a biker gang.

The Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles look rightfully like they came from feudal Japan.

Bloom looks like she came right out of a fairytale world.

And Sanjay and Craig look like absolute party animals.

And after stumbling upon this after nearly a decade, I couldn't help but think....

Or more importantly, why didn't Nick do more with this game.

All the shows you see represented here were the only ones that were.

After 2014, they never updated the game, most likely because it's a online game that can only be accessed through the Nickelodeon website.

And it really sucks because it would've been cool to see them add other notable Nick shows to this world.

And since I'm bored and I have nothing better to do today, I thought of the idea of Nickelodeon bringing this forgotten game back from the dead.

But not as a mobile game or even a video game, but instead as an entire franchise.

It would kind be like how Disney has multiple franchises under their belts involving their original animated films like The Disney Princesses and Disney Villains.

It would be cool to see a company like Nickelodeon having a entire franchise based around their huge catalog of IPs....

Which I don't think they've ever done before.

Sure the IPs themselves are basically franchises in their own rights, but Nick hasn't had a franchise that used them all together.

Anyway, sit back and grab a snack and follow me as I take you all on a journey through the new and improved world of.....

Nickelodeon Kingdoms!

For this post, I'm gonna list some shows (both notable and virtually obscure) from the Nicktoons line-up and share how they would be represented as kingdoms for this franchise.

As for the ones that were already in the game, they would be expand on a bit.

SpongeBob SquarePants: SpongeBob's kingdom in the original game was presented as sort of a pirate-themed version of the Bikini Bottom. For this franchise, the pirate theming would be ever stronger here. In fact, SpongeBob's kingdom would be based in a part of the ocean filled with tropical islands that are brimming with pirates, both human and aquatic. SpongeBob's kingdom would draw heavy influence from The Caribbean, specifically during the Golden Age of Piracy.

The Fairly Oddparents: The Fairly Oddparents' kingdom would be presented as a mixture between Dimmsdale and Fairy World. It's architecture would be a mixture between fantastical and modern, it would be inhabited by humans, fairies and other fantasy creatures, and it would based high up in the clouds.

Rugrats: The Rugrats' kingdom would be a presented as a prehistoric metropolis in the veins of The Flintstones. The prehistoric theming would be a reference to Reptar. The land the kingdom is based in would be surrounded by various environments commonly found in prehistoric-themed media: grasslands, jungles, swamps, lagoons, volcanic mountains, polar regions, and bone-filled wastelands.

Ren and Stimpy: Ren and Stimpy's kingdom would be city heavily inspired by various locations in Canada. This would serve as a reference to the duo's famous role as Canadian Kilted Yaksmen.

Aaahh, Real Monsters!: The Real Monsters' kingdom would be presented as a junkyard city inhabited by monsters.

Angry Beavers: The Angry Beavers' kingdom would be presented as a forest-themed metropolis inhabited by slightly anthropomorphic forest animals.

Hey Arnold!: Hey Arnold's kingdom would be presented a urban metropolis with a heavy sports-theming. This would be a nod to the fact that in the show, one of Arnold and his friends favorite passtime was playing sports.

Jimmy Neutron: Jimmy Neutron's kingdom would be presented as a floating futuristic version of Retroville (smack-dabbed in the atmosphere) with a 1950s theming. This would be a perfect combination of the many out-of-this-world adventures Jimmy and his friends have gone on, and the 50s-styled town they live in.

The Wild Thornberrys: The Wild Thornberrys' kingdom would be presented as being themed around colonial Africa....but minus the problematic elements. The land would be presented with a colonial town, multiple tribal villages, and landscapes like savannahs, jungles, swamps, and deserts. Admittedly, coming up with a kingdom based around the Wild Thornberrys was a pretty tricky concept since the family travels all over the world. But one of the many locations they've traveled to, I believe Africa has been the one they've visited the most, so I felt like that would be best place to based the kingdom around. As for the colonial theming, I felt it would help give the kingdom a safari theme to fit perfectly with the show.

Rocket Power: Rocket Power's kingdom would be a mixture between the California seaside-town Ocean Shores and Hawaii. I feel like having the kingdom be a mix between California surf culture and Polynesian culture would be perfect for a kingdom based around Rocket Power, given that the latter has played a major part in a show.

Invader Zim: Invader Zim's kingdom would literally just be an Irken version of the City that the show mostly takes place in. Essentially it would be best of both worlds. Yeah, I don't really have much to say to this place.

ChalkZone: ChalkZone's kingdom is basically just ChalkZone, except it's also inhabited by regular humans.

My Life as a Teenage Robot: My Life as a a Teenage Robot's kingdom would be a futuristic version of Tremorton. Yeah....I pretty much made the town that was sort of anti-robotic into a futuristic community. Talk about ironic.

Danny Phantom: Danny Phantom's kingdom would presented as creepy, gothic version of Amity Park, surrounded like various haunted lands. These lands would be inhabited by ghosts and other supernatural creatures, and have environments themed around the major ghost that reside there. Like a savage jungle for Skulker, an Arabian-style kingdom and desert for Desiree, a 1950s-style town for Johnny 13 and Sidney Poindexter, etc.

Avatar: I don't even need to explain this one.

El Tigre: El Tigre's kingdom would be a version of Miracle City that's a mixture between colonial and Mesoamerican Mexico. Giving that show has presented architecture from both eras of Mexican eras (especially the latter), I felt a even more extreme combination of both would be perfect for a kingdom based on the show.

Back at the Barnyard: Back at the Barnyard's kingdom would be presented as a rural country town akin to the ones found in the American Southwest and Deep South, inhabited by humans and talking farm animals ala Bojack Horseman. Yeah, that's kind of about it.

Tak and the Power of Juju: I don't even need to explain this one either.

The Mighty B: The Mighty B's kingdom would be a bee-themed version of San Francisco. Basically imagine the bee city from the Bee Movie and that's what you got.

Fanboy and Chum Chum: Fanboy and Chum Chum's kingdom would be an icy version of Galaxy Hills, as a nod to the show's well-known (and only) superhero, Man-Arctica.

T.U.F.F. Puppy: T.U.F.F. Puppy's kingdom would be basically Petropolis mixed with Zootopia. Please don't sue me Disney.

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: The TMNT's kingdom in the game was presented as metropolis that was a mixture between New York City and feudal Japan. And yeah, that theming would still be present.

Sanjay and Craig: Sanjay and Craig's kingdom in the game was presented as a version of Lundgren, but with a heavy focus on partying with stuff like amusement parks and music concerts. And just the TMNT kingdom, that theming would still be present.

Breadwinners: The Breadwinners' kingdom in the game was essentially Pondgea....but the same as it was in the show. But this time, the kingdom would be presented as a chain of various islands based around aquatic ecosystems like swamps, bayous, forests, rainforests, etc.

Harvey Beaks: Harvey Beaks' kingdom would essentially be the Bigbark Woods, but with a fantasy twist to it. Imagine Knothole from the Archie Sonic comics and that's what you got.

Well that's all for now!

I know I left some major Nicktoons out like Rocko's Modern Life and The Loud House, but that's because I couldn't quite think of what their kingdoms would be like.

If you have any idea or suggestions on what their kingdoms should be like, let me know in the comments.

[boyrobott]

are you aware of the 2009 movie extra shorts. there’s 2 of them I think they’re both on youtube if you haven’t seen them already

Yes! I'm actually one of those old folks who still has DVD copies of all their favorite movies, LMAO, so I got the opportunity to see those shorts a long time ago, when I originally purchased the disc. More RRF and ZOG content is always a plus (though I don't really consider the beginning canon, given that it totally brushes the oppression of robots under the rug, using the second most iconic robot character from the film as a mouthpiece, no less!) and Astro Boy vs The Junkyard Pirates was so hilariously over-the-top. Thank you for the recommendation, though! I'm always on the lookout for more Astro Boy 2009 media.

For anyone who hasn't seen them:

Astro Boy vs The Junkyard Pirates

The RRF in: New Recruit

[shinycrybaby]

The good in losing? (Haitani Ran x Fem!Reader

Genre/Tags: Highschool AU, No gangs AU, One-sided enemies to lovers?, Izana and Reader are childhood friends, Protective bff!Izana

Warnings: Profanities, Typos

Word Count: 2.6k

Synopsis: Pairing you with Ran for the three-legged race was a disaster.

Maybe the class should’ve thought this through. It’s only then did they come to the realization that you and Ran don’t work out really well, as they watch the two of you on the track field, pulling on each other’s hair like two girls fighting over their crush.

Two weeks ago

The annual school festivities were nearing. Students were balancing both sport practices, performances, booth planning as well as their studies and usual club activities.

A month ago, it was already announced that the annual event was nearing and that a date has been set. Students were given the time to think of theme for their classrooms for when they showcase a talent or mini event of their own. Or to some an opportunity to do their dream classroom café.

Class 3-C, however, seemed to be blessed with a hoard of procrastinators, and were only now planning for everything. From the classroom activities, down to the very last sport where they will choose their classmates to participate in.

It was around their break time that the class president has finally acted, and was now making a poll of choices for their classmates to choose from as they all ate their snacks.

One thing that came out good from their class or procrastinators, was that they listened well to their president.

“Okay, make sure that everyone votes for their theme of choice. One vote per student; no doubles in one category or else I’ll have those who doubles, do all sports. No excuses allowed.” Izana spoke clearly to the class, as his arms crossed.

Yeah. They listened well to their president.

“Oh! Let’s do a café.” Someone from the back suggested.

“That’s already taken by class 3-E. Rules said that no themes alike per class year.” Izana explains, making the student who suggested, sulk. “Keep the suggestions coming, I’ll write down really quick the themes that are already taken.”

The silver haired boy instructs the vice president – Muto, to take down notes of the class’s suggestions while he wrote all the themes that were taken for their year, while also writing the lower year’s themes in case someone takes inspiration for one of the existing themes.

“A pirate ship!” One of the students suggests.

“What about fairytale? We can be knights and princesses and princes, and fairies—” Another student suggests but was quickly shutdown by some of the boys in the class.

It went on and on, their suggestions. And you were just watching it all go down.

To be honest, you were fine with anything. What you were excited about was just roaming around during the 1-week event. You hoped so bad that Izana would take pity on you and not let you join any other activities because you were having a severe case of ‘senioritis’.

Soon enough, the class settled on a theme, which was a curious combination of circus, and junkyard. After that came the discussion of what decorations to use, the layout of the classroom for their desired theme, and then the funds. Then also came the service in which they will provide for the other students that will visit their classroom.

“Alright, now that that’s settled. We can now move on to the sports.” Izana announces, after taking quick notes of all their classroom plans, he erases the writings on the board before replacing it with the sports that needed to be filled with students who will willingly participate.

“As much as I hate to be that person,” Izana starts, “I suggest everyone to participate in at least one activity.”

There goes your hope of doing nothing for the sports portion.

Time ticked along with the speed with which Izana wrote each player per activity.

“Alright, now for the three-legged race.”

A slap on the table, and then Shion stands up. “I vote for Ran on this one.”

Izana rubs on his temples, “I just said to raise your hand when suggesting something.”

His statement was ignored by his friend, explaining to the class why Ran should play in the race.

“And that’s why, I think Ran should play.” With a playfully curt bow, Shion takes a seat.

“And did I say yes to this?” Ran voices out, his brow raising at his friend’s stupidity.

“Come on Ran, you’re one of the fastest in class. We can’t have you on the 200m race otherwise it’s not a challenge at all for the others. You’d be winning instantly, with those long-ass, lanky, stick man legs.”

Ran doesn’t know if it’s a compliment. He doesn’t take it as one.

“Yeah, Ran!” Some of the girls in class chides in. “Then I’ll be your partner.” And he knows exactly that was the catch.

“Okay, then Ran it is.” Izana writes down Ran’s name on the board.

“What?! I didn’t even say yes!” Ran whines, standing up to make a point for his displeasure.

Izana ignores him, writing his own name on the 200-meter race so that Ran won’t have any choice if he ever brings up the suggestion.

“If I’m playing, then I’m choosing my partner for the race.” He scoffs, which then earned his statement a flurry of girls raising their hand and saying ‘pick me, Ran’.

You watch in feint amusement how things were unfolding, and then switch your attention back to the notes you made during this class meeting. Thinking back to the class theme and what you should wear after Izana gave out the dress code for your class.

You raised your head, pondering, but were met with Ran’s amethyst orbs. That time you were paying attention to your notes and spacing out, Ran had made his way to your desk.

Your confusion was evident as to why he was suddenly sat on the vacant seat in front of you and just staring straight into your soul.

You look around the class and they were staring silently at you two. Some of the girls were even glaring at you.

You turned to Izana for help. Eyes staring into him in slight panic because you absolutely hated being stared at like this.

Izana sighs, “look, she doesn’t even want to.”

Ran turns his body, holding up a hand at his friend. “Wait, I need to hear it from her.”

You feel annoyance start to boil at what Ran was doing. You already weren’t on good terms and now he’s pulling this on you. “Hear what?” You ask.

“Your answer. I said that you’ll be my partner for the three-legged race.” He grins, eyes gleaming with a playful glint that always irked you.

You turn your head away, the frown seeming to sew itself on your forehead to give you a permanent look of displeasure from your interactions with the older Haitani. “No fucking way. I’m not doing it.” You say with finality in your tone.

Izana was about to move the class’s attention to picking a new participant when he was cut off by a classmate.

“But you two are the fastest in class! I’m sure you guys can win us a medal!”

And so, a chorus of agreements from the others arouse, making it hard for Izana to counter and side with his dear childhood friend. “Okay, then we’ll have Ran and Y/N for the three-legged race.”

You look in horror at the betrayal committed by Izana. Ran was grinning, and the former was basically avoiding eye contact with you, proceeding the meeting further.

And they should’ve known from that day alone where the frown never left your face, that their choice of players was a mistake.

“Who suggested Ran to play again in the first place?” A comment was heard from one of your classmates on the sideline. The class points towards Shion.

“Hey! It’s not my fault. He didn’t have to choose Y/N for this! Who even pushed the Ran and Y/N agenda?” Shion fires back, not liking that the blame was all on him.

Izana hushes everyone before a fight starts to break out among them. Muto was quick to cover Shion’s mouth, already knowing that the boy won’t back down.

“Maybe if you didn’t have long fucking limbs, it’d be easier to move!” Your voice was heard, and the class lost all hope of winning the medal for the game.

“Well maybe drink your milk so you’d actually grow some height.” Ran fights back, agitated from the heat blaring down on them.

This aggravated you further, pulling on to one of Ran’s braids, making him stop from his attempts to move you two to the finish line. “Annabelle!” You throw the name, referring to how his braids always made him look like the haunted doll.

Ran gasps dramatically, “you bitch! I spent hours on this!” The taller boy flicks his braid away from you, before pulling on your hair. “Grumpy!” Ran insults back, referring to one of Snow White’s seven dwarves.

Class 3-C watched, not knowing what to do, until the two of you were full on fighting that you two were on the ground, kicking and pulling on each other’s hair.

“Grumpy!”

“Annabelle!”

The teachers came rushing in, trying to stop you both. Your homeroom teacher pulling on to Ran, as Izana hurried over to pull you away from the tall braided boy.

“You two, office. Now.” Your teacher drags you two, with Izana followed. “Yasuhiro, please take charge of the class while I’m away.” Your homeroom teacher turns to Muto, before the boy gave a thumbs up, turning to your classmates, readying them for the next game while the race was still on-going.

As you walked – more like were dragged – to the teacher’s office, you heard the commentator through the speakers on the field, “due to a cat fight ensuing, class 3-C is out of the three-legged race!” You rolled your eyes, blaming Ran on your mind for everything.

Once seated on the chairs that was pulled for the two of you, you suddenly felt small under the scrutinizing stared of your homeroom teacher.

He was pacing around, feeling the stress nip at him. He was supposed to enjoy this week with his students, but now he had to control two of his students to behave more properly.

The older man pinches the bridge of his nose. “I really don’t want to deal with you two, but since we’re here. Explain, now.”

Ran raised his hand, opening his mouth before he was cut off. “You know what, I don’t want to hear it. Write it. I want an apology letter; a detailed one. I want to know exactly what happened why you two fought. I’m not giving you two detention, because I still want you two to enjoy this week and I’m not ruining it. But that apology letter, I want it written and done today.” The older man fumbles about on his desk, looking for two sheets of papers, and two pencils and then handing it to you and Ran.

“Give me the letters once you finished, look for me. Don’t leave it on the table.” With that the man leaves, instructing Izana to follow suit.

Izana nods at your homeroom teacher, before turning to you two and sighing. You see your friend’s distressed look and it added to the shame and guilt in your gut. “I’m sorry.” You look down to your lap.

It was enough for Izana. He knows your words were sincere, and he didn’t want you to beat yourself up over it. He turns to Ran, waiting expectantly.

“What?” Ran looks up as if he wasn’t part of the fight and added fuel to the fire.

Izana picks up a notebook from your homeroom teacher’s desk, rolling it and then swinging it on Ran’s head. The notebook hitting the tall boy’s head, as Izana gave him a warning glare. “Make up.” He hisses at the boy.

“You’re worse than any of the teachers here, I swear.” Ran mumbles, rubbing on his head.

Izana holds up the rolled notebook again, warning him. Ran holds up both hands in surrender, making the class president lower his “weapon” and place it back on the teacher’s desk.

With that, he leaves, and it’s just you and Ran, your papers waiting to be filled with a detailed incident report and apologies.

You got to writing as soon as Izana left while Ran basically just lounged about. You were halfway to finishing when he peers at your paper.

“Let me copy yours.”

You stare at him as if he’s the stupidest person on earth. You actually think that he is at this point.

“Are you dumb?” You say incredulously before turning back to your paper, practically ignoring him.

“Hey, come on~ You keep ignoring me. What have I ever done to you to deserve this treatment?” The boy was basically being a drama queen, sighing heavily here and there.

You grumbled, slamming the pencil down and then turning to him. “You get on my nerves. You annoy the heck out of me. You draw me unwanted attention and I hate that the most.”

“Then, what shall I do, oh my lady, to garner your attention?”

You roll your eyes at his dramatics. “Nothing, just leave me alone.” You turn back to your paper.

However, this is the only time that you probably hated the spinning chairs in wheels, because the two-tone haired boy turned you around again, this time, he drew closer to you with his own chair, trapping you in between his legs as does his arms while his hands rested on the edge of the teacher’s table.

“Look at me,” Ran whispers, staring straight at you.

You were never one to have your personal space invader like this. Ran was the first, and it bordered on feeling butterflies at the pit of your stomach, and feeling uncomfortable. You don’t stare at him. It was hard.

The boy sighs, tilting your head with his fingertips. “If I get serious with you, will you finally pay attention to me?”

“That depends...”

“On what?”

To be honest, you don’t know. You just let the silence envelope the two of you. Ran was still observing you, until his eyes landed on your lips.

“I want to kiss you,” he whispers under his breath.

Maybe it was the tension, or the way this side of Ran brought something out in you, but you nodded. “Okay...”

The next thing you know, his lips were on your own. It was short, with minor movements, but enough to light something in your chest.

You both pulled away and just stare at each other, when a voice breaks the silence that settled between you. “I said ‘make up’ not ‘make out’.” Izana exasperatedly spoke, already exhausted from his 200-meter race, and from handling his rowdy classmates. Now he was faced with another pain to mind.

Your cheeks flared up as you replied, “we did not make out!”

“Yeah! If we were making out, I’d be having my t—” you slapped the taller boy’s shoulder, hard, knowing how he’d use his colorful words to explain you two’s supposed situation.

“I don’t need to hear that. I’ll deal with you later,” Izana points at Ran with a glare in his eyes. “For now, you two need to finish that apology letter, because the whole class is being called for a competition against the other 3rd year classes.” Izana pulls another chair where he sits and observe you two.

“No funny business,” the class president crosses his arms, as he watched Ran jut out his bottom lip in a pout.

With no other choice, Ran sulks as he wrote whatever dramatics he wanted to put in his apology letter. He’d glance at you whenever, smiling to himself as he sees the light blush on your face, noticing how you’d sometimes space out mid-writing. He definitely likes to see this side of you show such adorable reactions, and he hoped he’d see it more in the future.

© August 2022, shinycrybaby. All rights reserved.

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A/N: I'm quite hmmmm .... I dunno if it's good that I'm writing 🤔

@softbajis here is the first ran fic i mentioned 🫡 I'll finish up the other one soon after work kkkk

[luckycheesefoodie321]

Ok now that PJO season 1 is complete, here are my thoughts (spoilers for subsequent books):

As we book readers are aware, the content of the books, the stories told, and the events that occur all get increasingly darker and the themes become more mature as the characters grow up.

So I believe with each subsequent season that the runtimes should go longer AND the rating for the show gets progressively higher.

Right now it’s PG and averages like 33 minutes per episode.

Sea of Monsters could arguably remain PG but bump up to an average of like 40 minute episodes.

Titans Curse is where things get a little wild with Bianca and the junkyard, Zoe and her dad, HOLDING THE SKY. This one is where it gets a spicy PG-13 rating. Using Pirates of the Caribbean as reference for what can fall under a PG-13 rating, they certainly have a lot more wriggle room. And I would just love some 45 minute episodes AT LEAST to cover the mad amount of lore in this book.

OBVIOUSLY Battle of the Labyrinth has to be AT LEAST PG-13 if not M!! PERCY EXPLODES A VOLCANO!! We get some truly wild looking monsters in this book too. Lots of sinister underground business happens. Lots of red horse poop. 50 minute episodes AT LEAST.

And it only makes sense to bump up The Last Olympian to a PG-13 or M rating. At this point it’s been… idk 10 years since the show started??? Surely the kids who are still watching it are grown up enough to handle the M rating on this show to have a good and meaty story of at least hour long episodes. Sooo much happens in that last book!

Anyway even if we don’t get an M rating, you can actually do so much with a PG-13 rating (again going by Pirates of the Caribbean and the two sequels as my point of comparison) and it would be a waste not to take advantage of it!!

But my main plea is BY GOD let us have longer episodes. 45 minutes at least. Give us something to sink our teeth into. Don’t rush through it. Let the story percolate a little.

[whirligig-girl]

(the new Lower Decks episode has an orion ship with decorative spikes! but i just thought... what if... spike heat radiators... also they're cowards for not showing the TOS-Remaster/SNW Those Old Scientists style warp whirligigs with the spinning yellow lights.)

The "Good Afternoon," the Syndicate pirate ship operated by Slamtha Uzgoel and her Orion pirate crew. Lovingly repaired over the past hundred years by various engineers, it's a sort of ship of theseus of incompatible nonstandardized equipment and a classic whirligig-warp-drive.

you have to imagine it hissing and puffing and chuffing and wheeshing bc they never STANDARDIZED the fucking PLASMA MANIFOLDS so HALF THE ELECTROPLASMA PLUMBING is fucking WELD

there's no indication of this in canon but i absolutely terminally headcanon orion pirates as The Steampunk Ones like, sigh, yes, some of the terminals are glass screens or whatever. but the GAUGES. there's so many GAUGES. Ry-Ry. hey. Ry'talla. do not touch that. it's an electroplasma gauge. it'll scald the skin right off your hand.

plasma boilers are great! you can run the flywheels and rotors off of plasma pressure and carry electroplasma current directly into the gas core verterium reactors! The earliest orion starships were nuclear pulse rockets with electric motors running the warp whirligigs, and the verterium reactors were powered by internal fission reactions. in order to have any amount of starting torque for the rotors, the radiators would be glowing yellow in seconds and you'd probably be generating an uneven warp field without the rotational smoothing effect... what a disaster

electroplasma boilers might seem archaic to us NOW, when the big families and corporations all have Cochrane-drives, but plasma boilers have an... almost... a life to them. they're living things, and they'll tell you what mood they're in much better than a cochrane reactor.

why would the lower rungs of the Syndicate, those orgs that only have one or two planets within their grasp, waste resources on building new shipyards with modern equipment, when orion megacorporations were building perfectly good interstellar battleships 300 years ago and the pieces of those perfectly good interstellar battleships are still lying around in various junkyards just waiting to be reassembled. I can not stress enough how big of a find a completely original plasma boiler and warp whirligig combo was. i mean thing is truly museum quality. We'll be taking that thank you very much.

[dianesdiaries]

3 steps forward, 6 feet down

set in the LIS;Before the Storm timeline after Rachels disappearance

-chloe takes her anger off into the junkyard, unaware of Rachel's death.-

TW; themes of aggression/death

the brisk air of junk fills into Chloe's senses, leaving a stench as she marched. Her silver platted bat swinging back and forth, following the traces of the clouds rewinding into dusk. She couldn't go home, she couldn't call anyone. The anger filled into the aroma, her eyes darting back and forth searching for a target. "Stupid fucking junkyard. I bet Max wouldn't even bat an eye if she saw me" she muttered, pacing back and forth.  back, and forth.  tears struck, rolling down her cheek like the streaks in her locks. "would anyone even remember if i disappeared?.. would anyone come looking?", her thoughts paced with her footsteps. Thumping to the sound of her minds dilemma. Without Rachel, what could possibly be left?

THUNK! bottles clashed into the dirt, splitting into mirrors of her own image. Chloe was filled with hate. The hate of Arcadia. The hate of Blackwell. The hate of that stepdouche her Mom is convinced might fix what was once lost. glass crumbled under her sunken laced sneakers. She winced, sucking air into her teeth at the piercing feeling under her feet. She locked eyes on her prey, a humbling mannequin left to rot. "Fuck you... fuck.. you", her words broke deep in tremble, the tall metallic of the bat quickly meeting the mannequin. Limbs split into the air, the aroma filled with rage. But she wouldn't stop. Not until it could feel what she felt. Not until it could scream from the mouth it once had. Not until it realized it was left to rot.  Not until she realized she was left to rot.

She panted heavily. The mannequin meeting the same fate of the bottles. Her sobs were uncontrollable, with nothing to hold but the ground. With nothing to comfort but the filthy aroma with words of mere self pity. Chloe slowly looked down, her fingers clasping the dirt heavily. The earth was warm, and wet. the stench felt greater than ever, weighing down her body as she collapsed into cries. "Rachel.. how could you leave me like this? We were gonna leave together, why would you do this to me?". The junkyard felt serene, Arcadias forrest's swarmed the junkyard with warmth.  If only time could save what was left. With a small claw at the ground, with tugging and pulling against the grass that had yet to escape the earth. Rachel would be waiting patiently, still and breathless at the sight of her best friend. Chloe knew she had nothing left. But where could Rachel have possibly gone without her?  she curled into a ball slowly, grabbing at her dusted knees through her jeans as her tears nurtured Rachel. if only time could save what was left of her. The ground had yet to eat at her corpse, and yet she slept still in the rocks beneath Chloe.  She wept until time could take her away. Away from it all. Away from the junkyard. To see the stars with Dad, to play pirates with Max in a dream filled with shortcoming memories.

NOTE; my first post on here!! ive tried publishing to different websites but never have good reach with the fandoms I like :c feedback is welcome!!