#the man built something real cool with that hunt

[attractive-nuisance-esq]

This may be a slightly cringe addition, but the above is a perfect example of something extremely valuable I learned playing in our very own Misha Collins’ gishwhes (greatest international scavenger hunt the world has ever seen): People want to say “yes.”

During my years of playing, I asked strangers for help doing a whole mess of crazy shit. I got a security guard to say yes to letting me rollerblade through the Illinois State Museum. I got an organist for a local church to agree to learn and play Carry On Wayward Son for me. I got no less than three randos on the street to say yes to hugging me while I was dressed in a bathing suit and covered in maple syrup. I got a state representative to say yes to raking up leaves in his community. My teammates got a jet fighter pilot to say yes to doing a barrel roll in his plane with our team name written on his hand, and got Larry King to say yes to doing a dumb little interview even though we interrupted his breakfast.

When people are presented with the chance to participate in something that connects them to other people, in something inspiring or silly or fun or helpful or just plain kind, they’ll usually say yes. It’s a truth that I’m grateful I learned. Got me through some rough shit.

And I’m not even mad that the reason I learned it was all because of the worst show any of us have ever loved.

I adore this

[melluvsuu]

“ 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐄𝐑 . ”

character : dazai osamu

context : you’re an agent going undercover, you encounter port mafia executive dazai. he finds you interesting. yeah..

authors note : you should listen to the diner by Billie ellish to get the vibe to it.

warning : stalker briefly mentioned, stalker!dazai, can be interpreted romantically or whatever, shout out to my bbg @riiwrites 😼☝🏽, murder and blood mentioned too, gender not mentioned, literally we rock with they/them 💋‼️.. uhm I think that’s all gays yeah..

,, 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐂𝐔𝐓. 𝜚

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐊𝐘 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐀 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐖𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐎𝐅 𝐅𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐏𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐒, the last remnants of daylight clinging stubbornly to the horizon. It was a view [name] had come to appreciate, standing on the balcony of the modest clinic where [name] built their cover. As a doctor specialising in human behaviour, their role was simple enough—listen, observe, and blend in. Standing there in viewing the people going about their days, [name] ran their fingers along the balcony’s iron railing, feeling the coolness of the metal beneath their skin. In this quiet neighbourhood, [name] was simply known as Dr. [name]—a doctor who listened to the woes of the weary, a person who could help people understand the storms in their minds. In some ways, [name] had taken to the role more naturally than they expected. It wasn’t far from what I had trained for, after all. But beneath that calm exterior, my real purpose was far more pressing.

The wind picked up slightly, rustling the papers on my desk inside the small office. I stepped back inside, closing the door behind me as I glanced at the scattered reports and profiles I’d been reviewing. Every interaction I had here was a potential lead—every patient, every conversation was a thread that might lead me to the missing documents. I was hunting for the whispers in the crowd, the signs that something was about to crack.

I sat down and opened one of the files again. A name stared back at me—Takeda Masaru, a local journalist with a reputation for being nosey. He had been in to see me twice, under the guise of seeking help for stress and insomnia. But I knew better. Knocking me out of my train of thought, my smartwatch started vibrating. It was morse code.

‘GOOD EVENING AGENT [NAME], IT'S NICE TO YOU ALIVE AND WELL.WE HAVE NEW INTEL. THERE'S BEEN SIGHTING AT THE LOADING. THE DOCUMENTS SHOULD BE THERE. IT SHOULD BE A DARK RED CARGO BOX WITH THE NAME ‘MELLUVS ART AND WRITING SUPPLIES’ . QUICKLY GET THERE BEFORE ANYBODY INTERVENES. BEST OF LUCK TO YOU.’

I quickly changed my clothing still keeping my pants and shoes and swapping my glasses with sunglasses, my shirt with a business shirt. Taking my coat off the rack I jumped off of the railing onto the pavement. The cold air hitting my face, I felt that familiar rush of adrenaline. The peaceful exterior I’d adopted as a doctor was peeling away, revealing the true purpose behind the mask.

I arrived at the loading dock slipping past guards. While remaining on my toes, looking around, finding the maroon cargo box, picking the lock, catching it before it could fall can make noise. Opening the door and sorting through papers. I found the papers of the document, putting the papers in my doctors folder, I turned to step out just to be greeted with…

"Are you lost?" a voice rang out behind them.

“I’m sorry?” You turned towards the stranger with a simple smile.

“I said, are you lost? Dr. [name].” He repeated.

Standing in the shadow of a weathered chimney was a young man, barely older than them, with an unsettlingly casual grin. His black hair fell messily over his eyes, his posture loose and unthreatening, but I knew better than to trust appearances. There was something sharp beneath that smile.

“Ah. No I’m not..”

"Dazai Osamu," the man introduced himself, stepping closer without a care in the world. "What a coincidence, meeting you here."

"Coincidence?" [name]’s voice was flat, unamused. "I don’t believe in coincidences."

Dazai’s grin widened. "Smart. I don’t either."

This wasn’t good. My mission had suddenly become complicated—this was Dazai, a notorious figure in the Port Mafia, rumoured to be both brilliant and dangerous. Getting caught up with him was exactly what their agency warned them about. But retreating now would be even worse. They couldn't afford to show any weakness.

"You’re in my way," I stated plainly, their eyes locked onto him. Dazai’s expression flickered briefly with interest.

"Am I?" he mused, not moving an inch. Instead, his eyes gleamed with curiosity. "I wonder what someone like you is doing up here. You don’t seem like the usual riffraff the mafia deals with. You're different."

I said nothing. They were trained to maintain a poker face, but they could feel Dazai’s gaze piercing through them, searching for cracks.

After a tense silence, I decided it was better to end this encounter quickly. "I have no business with you. Walk away."

Dazai’s grin softened into something almost playful. "I could say the same. But I don’t feel like walking away just yet. You intrigue me."

Before you could respond, a shout echoed from the alley below—footsteps, too many of them. The mission wasn’t over yet. With a sharp glance at Dazai, [name] moved quickly, shoving him out the way with the documents I hand, disappearing into the shadows of the cargo port.

𓎢𓎟𓎟𓎟 . ♡ . 𓎟𓎟𓎟𓎢

The mission was complete, the documents recovered, and the city’s fragile calm preserved. Days passed, and YN pushed the encounter with Dazai to the back of their mind. They believed they had left him behind in that port, a fleeting figure from a fleeting night.

But they were wrong.

It began with small sightings—first at a diner near one of their agency’s hideouts, a quaint place where [name] often went to clear their mind. They walked in for a quiet moment, only to find Dazai, seated by the window, sipping his coffee as if it was the most natural thing in the world. His eyes met theirs, and that familiar grin spread across his face.

The next time, it was at their ‘job’. [name] worked as a hired security operative for a private military company, and the sight of Dazai loitering near the building was more than unsettling. He didn’t approach them, but his presence was a constant reminder that he was watching.

The evening air felt heavy as [name] returned home from a long shift, exhaustion pulling at their every step. They hadn’t noticed the lingering presence outside, the demon in the shadows, waiting. The lock clicked into place behind them as they shut the door, and for a moment, they stood still, listening. No footsteps followed. The silence was almost comforting.

They kicked off their shoes, fingers absently unbuttoning their dress shirt, craving nothing more than the solace of the couch. As they sank into it, something caught their eye—an envelope, placed conspicuously on the coffee table. A surge of unease rippled through their tired mind, heart beginning to race as they reached for the envelope, fingers brushing the edge of the paper with caution. Slowly, they opened it, their eyes scanning the contents.

‘THIS IS A REALLY NICE PLACE YOU’VE GOT HERE! MIND IF I MOVE IN? I HOPE YOU’RE READING THIS SILLY NOTE! I MIGHT’VE STOLEN SOME DOCUMENTS AND IMPORTANT FILES FROM YOUR OFFICE, SORRY, AGENT [NAME]~!’

A low groan of frustration escaped their lips as they crumpled the note and tossed it into the garbage. [name] rubbed their temples, too drained to deal with the antics of a certain mafioso tonight. Just as they tried to let the tension slip away, they caught sight of something—someone—standing on the balcony.

Their heart skipped a beat, and instinctively, they reached for their gun, gripping it tightly as they cautiously approached the window. They slid it open with precision, never taking their eyes off the figure leaning against the railing. "You’re persistent," [name] said, gun ready but posture steady.

The man on the balcony didn’t seem fazed by the weapon. Dazai Osamu smiled as if this were all part of a game. "And you’re elusive," he countered, voice light and carefree. But there was something beneath that tone, something deeper, lurking behind the casual amusement in his gaze. "I like people who don’t give themselves away so easily."

[name] sighed, lowering the gun but keeping it in hand. Arms crossed, they met his eyes with thinly veiled exasperation. "What do you want, Dazai?"

He tilted his head slightly, as though considering the question, his eyes glinting with amusement. "I’ve been trying to figure that out. You’re… interesting. And I’m rarely interested in anyone."

"Flattering," [name] muttered, voice laced with sarcasm as their patience wore thin. "But I’ve got work to do."

Dazai’s expression shifted, his grin softening, but his presence growing more intense as he stepped closer. "I know," he said quietly. "That’s what makes this so fun. You, with your little secrets and dangerous missions… I can’t help but want to unravel it all."

"You can’t follow me forever," [name] warned, voice quieter now, each word a warning laced with resolve.

Dazai’s smile softened further, almost genuine. "Maybe not," he agreed, his voice low, "but I can follow you for a little while longer.”

“Get the hell out of my apartment,” [name] snapped, their voice sharp as they levelled the gun at Dazai. The cold metal clicked audibly as they cocked it, a clear threat in the air. They pointed toward the door, eyes hard and unyielding. “Do it now, or I'll shoot you.”

Dazai’s grin didn’t falter. If anything, it widened, his eyes gleaming with that same unsettling amusement, as if the threat didn’t faze him in the slightest. He raised his hands in mock surrender, but his body remained relaxed, nonchalant, as though he were in complete control of the situation.

“Shoot me?” he mused, voice light but laced with something darker. “Now, now, Agent [name] that seems a bit extreme, doesn’t it?”

“You think I’m joking?” [name] growled, finger hovering dangerously over the trigger.

Dazai took a step closer, completely unbothered by the barrel pointed at him. His voice dropped to a near whisper, his eyes locking with theirs. “No, I don’t. That’s what makes this so exciting.”

There was a tension in the room now, thick and palpable. [name] held their ground, but Dazai’s calmness, his lack of fear—it was disarming. He was playing a game they weren’t sure they could win.

“Get out.” [name] demanded, not lowering the gun but sensing this encounter was only going to spiral deeper.

Dazai’s smile softened just a touch, his tone almost genuine. “Nope~!”

“You’re testing my patience,” [name] warned, heart pounding but steady, still aiming squarely at his chest.

“Good,” Dazai murmured, stepping back toward the balcony door. “I like it when people have limits. It gives me something to push.”

With a final glance, he gave them a playful wink. “Until next time, Agent.” Then, as quickly and casually as he had appeared, Dazai slipped out, leaving the tension in the room behind him like a lingering shadow.

[name] stood still, their gun still raised, breaths coming in heavy. The sense of danger hadn’t left—it was only a matter of time before he returned.

additional author notes : ending kinda sucked ass again smh..

word count: 1k

reposts are welcome but do not steal my work!

[mama-qwerty]

Knuckles Series - My Way

Okay, so overall, my whole family had fun watching it together, and there were things I liked about it, and things I thought could have been done better.

So how would I have handled the series?

Buckle up, this’ll get long.

We open the same way (without Sonic’s voiceover – let Knuckles explain things and get us into his mindspace) and see Knux training in his home-built obstacle course. Once he’s done, he feels victorious, before his smile drops and a new expression clouds his features as a thought occurs.

Now what?

He’s the most dangerous warrior in the galaxy. He’s bested countless opponents, survived harsh environments and any challenger who came forth. He successfully completed his quest to find the Master Emerald, allowing his tribe and ancestors to finally find peace.

But that’s something he can’t understand how to cope with.

Peace.

He’s never known it. All his life has been a struggle, a fight, a battle to be waged and won. Now that he is safe, without constant bounty hunters after him, without fearing being tossed into an arena to fight for his life, what does he do with himself? What’s next?

This is when he heads back to the house to ‘battle’ the handymen. Maddie tries to soothe things over, but they drive off, and she makes her way to Knux, who’s celebrating his victory over the ‘trespassers’ with Cool Ranch Doritos.

Now, instead of her getting frustrated and just walking off to talk to the others about the “little red barbarian”, she sits down with him and tries to have a real talk. Tries to get to know him, and understand him better. He’s still in the kind of arrogant, boastful, “I’m the most dangerous warrior in the galaxy” mindset, so he’s not really listening. But she tries.

Next thing you know, he’s on the roof with Ozzy and Sonic goes up to chat with him. He meditates, does the fighting pit and Iron Throne, and gets grounded. All that can stay the same.

Here’s where we diverge.

Sonic comes up, gives him the “Just relax” speech, and Knuckles does some grumbling about it before sitting near the Master Emerald. He vents a bit about how he can best any challenger, but doing nothing is harder than any battle he’s ever faced. He just doesn’t know what to do with himself, so he prays to his ancestors for guidance.

The ME glows, and his father appears before him in a vision. Dad tells Knuckles he is so proud of him, and when Knux questions what he should do now, Dad tells him that the time for fighting is at an end. That echidna weren’t always warriors—they were protectors once, using their strength to keep those weaker safe.

Knuckles contemplates this, and asks what that means for him. He has already pledged his life to protecting the Master Emerald, what else is there?

His father smiles, and shakes his head.

“My son, there is so much you have missed as you journeyed to finish our quest. You were so young when I left you. Do you not remember the village? Our tribe? We had songs, and history, and traditions that brought us a sense of belonging and togetherness. We were more than a tribe. We were a family. A home. Any man is stronger when he has those he cares for at his side. Those he trusts.”

Knuckles bristles at this. “I was hunted for most of my life. Constantly searching. I have no home. No tribe. Not anymore. I am alone.”

Dad shakes his head again. “That is not true. But I fear you will not believe me, so you shall have to come to see that for yourself.”

Knux gives a harumph. “The honor of the echidna falls to me alone.”

“Our honor was tainted by the actions of some so long ago that the truth has become lost. Your quest is ended. Your fight, over. You’ve returned what was once used and lost by those with ill intent. Your actions are noble. That is where true honor lies.”

Silence settles for a moment, before Knuckles speaks again, softly.

“I miss you. I . . . was not prepared for what I found in my journeys.” He paused. “For what found me.”

“I know, my son. I curse my own stubbornness for not turning back once the battle looked too lost. For leaving you so alone. I beg your forgiveness for being such a fool.”

“You were a warrior. Your brothers in arms needed you.”

“I was a father first and foremost. My son needed me more.”

More silence. Knuckles looks so much younger now, his face relaxed and pensive, his body no longer rigid and proud. Now he’s just a lost child, missing his father, and unsure what his future holds.

“You must stop living your life for us,” his father says, his voice soft. “You’ve completed our quest, and I am proud of you for that. But this was not the life I wanted for you. I have seen how some can become so focused on battling to the death, they forget to live life in between. I want you to live, my son. I want you to find happiness and light in your world. I want you to seek out those weaker than you, and lend your strength to them.”

Knuckles is quiet for a moment.

“I have done things I am not proud of. Trusted those who betrayed me. Hurt people. Been tricked into helping those who are evil.”

“The fault lies with those who have tricked you, or betrayed you. Not with you for trusting them. You have a pure heart, my son. Like your mother. Do not let the actions of others cause that heart to grow cold.”

So they finish up their little heart-to-heart and Knuckles decides to take his father’s words to heart. No time like the present, so he sneaks out of the house to wander the town and see where he can help.

MEANWHILE

I haven’t gotten Wade’s story all figured out, but maybe he’s feeling particularly down today because it’s the anniversary of when his dad abandoned him. He tried to go to the bowling alley to try and recapture that feeling of being with his dad, but it’s not working and only making him more miserable. He gets smack talked by Susie (or whomever) and feels so dejected he just leaves.

Now, normally when Wade moves through town, he’s all smiles and greeting everyone. But today he’s quiet and sullen and walking like he’s got a little rain cloud above him. No one seems to really notice or care, but Knuckles notices and decides to follow.

He watches as Wade throws his bowling ball into the trash. Curious, Knux digs it out and follows him back to his house. Wade goes in, goes to the kitchen, opens the fridge to grab a beer, and when he closes the door Knuckles is just there, scaring Wade half to death. (I have a headcanon that Knux can be so stealthy he seems to just appear sometimes.)

Knuckles asks Wade what troubles him, which launches into the whole “I used to love bowling with my dad, until he just left” backstory. Maybe Wade’s been writing letters, trying to get his dad to contact him, to at least get an answer for why he left. But he’s never heard back.

Wade’s father’s abandonment is what’s caused Wade’s meek and people-pleasing personality. Maybe he thinks he angered his dad somehow or disappointed him and that’s why Pete left. So Wade never wants to do anything to anger or disappoint anyone else. But this way of life is making him miserable, because no one takes him seriously, and he’s treated like a joke. He knows this but doesn’t know how to change.

Knuckles sees the obvious answer. “If your father’s disappearance is what caused you to lose your confidence, then confronting him would help you gain it back.”

Wade’s not so sure, but lets Knux talk him into going on a road trip to Reno, where Pete’s competing in the Championship Bowling thing.

They still stop at Wade’s mom’s house—because his sister is a big reason he feels inferior—and his mom is exactly the same because I love her, but his sister has got to have a personality change. Maybe she’s always been jealous of Wade because he was the favorite child, or she’s a bit angry because Wade always held out some hope that Pete would come back (which in turn, gave their mother that hope, which Wanda never shared and thought a waste of energy). Wanda holds a lot of anger toward Pete for running out on them, and because Wade and Pete were so close, she transfers a lot of those bad feelings to Wade.

She’s not in the FBI. She’s not some bratty kid in a grown woman’s body, being a real bitch to Wade. But she has anger and bitterness toward Pete, and thinks Wade’s trip to see him is a waste of time. And maybe she pulls him aside and tells him this, as a way to try and save him from being hurt again. Maybe she even tells Knuckles that this is only going to end up making Wade feel worse.

As the siblings bicker and argue, making Mother Whipple feel bad, Knuckles has had it and declares that they will fight to hash out these negative feelings. He hands them both Nerf bats, and they just pummel each other as they spit out everything they’ve felt. Eventually an epiphany happens, and Wade yells “I just want to know that he didn’t leave because of me!”

Everyone freezes. Wade goes on to say that ever since his dad left, he’s always thought it was his fault. Because he wasn’t what his dad wanted. Because he did something wrong, or wasn’t good enough, or something. And he knows that Pete leaving hurt his mom, and his sister was mad at not only their dad but him too, so he tried to be ‘good’ and not make others mad. He was always afraid to be himself since then, because if his own dad didn’t like him, then what hope did that leave for anyone else to?

Wade felt forced to change who he was in order to survive. That’s something Knuckles can identify with.

Basically, the whole thing would be both of them coming to understand that family legacy doesn’t necessarily mean that’s who they have to be. That they can choose who they are, without some expectation hanging over them based on their ancestors. That their strength comes from within, not from being the best warrior (Knuckles) or having his father’s approval (Wade).

And that you can still find your home and family, even if it’s been a long time since you’d been part of one.

We don’t even necessarily have to have a dedicated antagonist in this. It could be a form of Man vs Self, where they find themselves in situations that their current behavior exacerbates.

If there is an external villain, maybe something a little different, like a collector of exotic animals gets wind of Knuckles being out of the protection of Green Hills, and sets out to nab him for himself. Or it could be someone who wants Knux for his secret fighting ring or something. This could bring up bad memories for Knux, of being captured and sold as a child, and forced to fight in arenas for the amusement of others.

All in all, instead of having GUN as the villain of the week (again), with some dude who’s using Knux’s own power against him (again), this could have had a more introspective feel that didn’t fall into the “kids have to fight some big baddie” trope. The enemy they’re both fighting is within themselves.

The whole point would be for Knuckles to realize that he didn’t HAVE to fight all the time, and discover that there’s more to him than just being the most dangerous warrior in the galaxy. That he’s allowed to have fun, to have preferences and new experiences that in no way have anything to do with training or besting others. That he’s allowed to discover who he is, and get back in touch with the child inside he’d been protecting all these years.

I want him to see things in wonder. I want him to explore the world, to be captivated by things he’s never seen before. To feel comfortable letting his guard down, being close with others, and just being a little silly.

I want him to learn that it’s okay to be a kid. And I want Wade to learn it’s okay to be a grown up. Because Knuckles grew up before his time, and Wade kept himself from growing up for fear of being like his dad, or being abandoned again.

I think there were some good kernels in the series, perfect for the fandom to take and run with.

I’m not sure how much I’ll play with the events of the series, but I have had some scenes with Callie meeting Wade’s family percolating.

[razorblade180]

Flowers in a desert

Under dim shattered moonlight, Remnants greatest hero traversed arid sands among a forgotten trail. Reported Grimm and bandit activity had increased in the area as of late; her constant proactive behavior would’ve caused her to handle this behavior a request came up, but being required a certain amount of time off field. Well, for good parents anyway, which she tried to be. On top of other crimes, this particular problem got to fester a bit.

The cool desert wind hollowed across dunes and carried the scent of gunpowder. Echoes of gunfire alongside clashing metal drew Ruby over a large dune overlooking an Oasis. Normally, the noise of a battle would hasten her pace, but tonight she chose to sit down and watch over her eldest daughter as she took the request hours earlier. It was rather strange and a unique opportunity seeing the girl work. Almost like an out of body experience.

Petals fell down like rain while Carmine soared over heads and take down foes. To Ruby, Carmine was the definition of “poetry in motion.” Her feet glided along the sand around one person to dodge, then spun towards another to be firmly on the offensive. Even from where Ruby sat, the look of pure boredom was clear in her daughter’s eyes. Maybe boredom was the wrong word. More like…unbothered.

One moment four bandits attacked at once, then the next they were falling to ground in pain. A blade toss here, then a leap over there….before a perfect roundhouse into an uppercut and sword retrieval. Carmine stood above many her age and some older for quite awhile. Combine that with her own personal attitude towards how Huntsman should conduct themselves, and you get a very caring yet dangerous child. Ruby remembered feeling unchallenged and learning the strength she possessed, but at least being huntsman was her dream. Her first love even. Not so much for Carmine.

Enemies didn’t feel the righteous sting of a scythe or blade when facing Carmine. No, they felt cold hard logic and the pain of someone who’d rather be doing something else. Every battle was dance on stage missed. Her talents were owned from a pride of her heritage and her choice of work was self imposed sense of necessity to protect the good in the world; the good she loved so much. It was the brutal distinction between the two of them. Ruby always tried her best to fight the evil in people and save their good. Carmine however…was fine hunting down evil that prayed on the good that was left in others.

“Are we done here?” The girl said, surrounded by the battered bodies she left in her wake. “If this goes on much longer, people will actually start dying.”

Ruby watched a man and woman step up to the challenge, bringing many followers to them. They were most likely the leaders and seemed hell bent on fighting. As she stood up to go intervene before things got fatal for anyone, Carmine switched to scythe mode and stomped her foot.

An eruption of rose petals swirled in the area as she held her weapon out to the side and approached painfully slow. Her eyes never faltered from her enemies, even as she began spinning the scythe. No words. No blinking. No expression. Only a cold gaze of hidden intentions that made the bandits shiver before dropping their weapons and getting on their knees.

“We…surrender.”

Carmine put her weapon down and the petals pour. A gust of wind brought her mother beside her.

Ruby:That was an interesting move.

Carmine:Didn’t get to do it, again. Not that I’m disappointed. Lots a people are idiotic enough not to listen to my first warning, but smart enough to avoid real harm. Still…I probably won’t get much practice with that particular attack.

Ruby:Did you know I was watching?

Carmine:Nope. Not that it would change anything. These guys are weak. If I couldn’t end this without bloodshed, then I clearly would still have a lot to learn.

Ruby:…Let’s take tomorrow off and go to Atlas. Ships are still running tonight.

Carmine:Huh?

Ruby:Yeah they built a new mall and have a ballet performance happening. It could be fun.

Carmine:We… still have turn all these people in.

Ruby gently rubbed the top of her child’s head before stepping forward towards the bandits with a sunny grin. She crouches down to their level and keeps her grin, however, the warm sunlit granted to them became cold and distant to the point of feeling like a dream that never happened.

“Grab your people and turn yourselves in. My daughter has spent enough time on you as is, okay?”

“Y-Yes…” they trembled.

Carmine watched her mom get back up and turn around to give her typical loving smile. Ruby walked past her, gently leading the girl by the hand to go home and pack their things.

Carmine:..What did you say to them?

Ruby:That I loved you more than my job. They understand. Mom first, hero second, but that’s enough about them. I heard the performance can take requests. Have anything in mind?

Carmine:….I’ve always liked Firebird. Maybe a few routines from Swan Lake and The Nutcracker.

Ruby:Ah makes sense. No wonder your spins are so graceful. Now I’m curious what that big move of yours looks like. I bet it’s a real showstopper!

Carmine:*red*…..I wouldn’t go that far. Maybe I can show it off sometime? Ya know, just for show.

Ruby:Hell yeah.

Flustered at the idea, Carmine’s face grew red at the thought. Still, she smiled; really smiled. That’s all that really mattered to Ruby. The two may have their differences but that was okay when they could have moments like these. Although, if you asked a loved one or foe, they’d be quick to tell how often one looks like the other.

[lunearobservatory]

Yk what, I shall fancy you by asking about Idaho and Oregon. Tell me your head cannons about the two of them.

And I mean all of it.

Whether it's crazy, angsty, or something else, I. Don't. Care.

Give me passion for the specific things you love or give me nothing

Grabs you firmly by the shoulders. You have given me Power. STRAP IN FUCKERS!

I'll start with Oregon. Little warning now for weed nicotine alcohol and a small hunting mention i guess? Just in case <3

He's chill! He's cool, he's doing alright. In his own words "good, not great". He seems pretty tight with Washington, they're besties.

The West Coast really do scream "dysfunctional family dynamics" don't they?

(Aka, my three girlfriends West Coast boys, and yes, they smoke weed.)

Anyway, he's with Washington the most. That bit of them hanging out together alone while ignoring California's calls? Yeah, that's them all the time. Washington info dumps about tech and Oregon is a little book nerd who absorbs info (Powell's city of books) and it's a very good combo. They share local coffee shop and microbrew recs and go hiking they are!! Hiking bros!!! They are also couch locked high as fuck watching runbacks of 2004 Cartoon Network bros!!! That La Niña bond!!!

Definitely get very philosophical a lot in conversation, like Wash gets viscerally emotional over space stuff and cried over Spirit the rover being shut down (rip to the real ones i miss them all) and Oregon is like god yeah man human attachment to inanimate objects is so wild. They'll either talk about it for hours OR bounce between topics so stupidly fast they don't even remember why they're talking about what they are or how they got on the topic from where they started.

Sorry for talking abt them forever I just think they're best friends.

As I mentioned Oregon is a big book nerd, he likes nature, probably has a house plant problem (they are all named), he hikes, and HUNTS!

This mf bow hunts, drag this out of my cold hands. Gun too sure but BOW HUNT OREGON. Washington gets icked about blood and killing animals probably so Oregon goes alone. Or maybe with Alaska sometimes? I really love Alaska and the PNW getting along for some reason.

Or, he goes with Ida :)

Idaho is Built Ford Tough thats for fuckin sure, this man's a farmer. And he fishes. He unironically owns several dad joke fishing shirts and a women love me, fish fear me hat. I love him. He's pretty outgoing, he Wyoming and Montana are all fairly good pals, hunting buddies and football friends definitely. Sometimes Colorado is alright to hang with, mostly when Denver is a little quieter.

And in a similar fashion, he and Oregon will get into bitchy fights bc Oregon really is still centered around Portland. Married couple spats yk?

Honestly they're just like. Domestic? I guess? They'll go on weekend hunting trips, Idaho really likes to cook esp with game, Oregon likes to try and pair whatever they're eating with a beer if applicable. It's usually applicable, they're "it's past five pm so it's socially acceptable to have a beer now, right?" people. They definitely have a wicked sourdough starter. Oregon likes kombucha sometimes and Ida thinks it's a hell liquid. They go to fuckin Albertsons and bring back like eight things they didn't need.

I've got a hc I've mentioned somewhere before that the West Coast/PNW including Ida have horrific nicotine addictions, and that Ida goes straight for cigarettes or steals off Oregon, who vapes and has a Juul that they scratched their names into with a pin. They're like That couple.

Idk they're in a way like the country/city boy dynamic but also not? Like Oregon is a bit rough and tumble he isn't a pure city boy. And Ida is like not country per se, more game hunting fisher boy. But it's similar yk? A little bit

Their dates are CUTE, they got that weekend hunting trip, Idaho is land locked so Oregon takes him down the coast, or like to an obscure distillery for flight tasting. Otherwise they just do movie nights and nice dinners. Oregon has taken them hiking to a nice place to see stars and has re-info dumped information from Wash about the stars and stuff and Ida is like wow that's so neat, absolutely not looking at the stars he's looking at Oregon.

I could get into angst but maybe i save that for now since I'm talkin about them bein cute and happy and i want them to have that rn tbh

[mayxthexforce]

On The Outer Edge of The Law || Caij Vanda & Cad Bane

Starter for @nieithryn

The warmth and humidity of Koboh are just perfect for a Nautolan like Caij to thrive in, the peace and the quiet... not so much.

It got boring, there's no denying it. She'd lost count of how many afternoons she'd spent just dozing in a booth at the saloon– HER booth, because she had long since claimed it for herself, decorated to her liking with some souvenirs from her victories around the planet, ridding the galaxy of a few pests, a blast through an imperial trooper or separatist droid at a time. But even those little hunting trips were sporadic. After all, she's supposed to be lying low. Keeping her head down so it doesn't get shot off.

It's damn near torture. But it's also the only price she's willing to pay for what got her into all this trouble. She keeps having to remind herself that things could be much, much worse. If the Empire finds her, then there'll be real torture involved.

So she waltzes her way back into the saloon, carrying a bag of scrap over one shoulder while she holds a battle droid's head in the other. This one is painted with thin green lines. A nice addition to her collection, as the ones she has are either painted or have a pattern of thick, reddish brown lines. Big black eyes gaze around from behind the wide brim of her hat. The patrons are quiet, more so than normal. There's a certain... odd tension in the air. Something happened while she was out– not a fight, the place's too clean and she wasn't gone that long for it to have been a fight.

But there's a new face, one who stands out like a sore thumb among the regulars, one she recognizes. Cad Bane. Quite a sight to see so far away from– well, from everywhere.

She moves to the bar, drops the bag on the polished wooden surface with a clatter.

"How's the heat treatin' ya, Monk," she greets the droid already working on her drink while leaning against the bar, the steel-covered tip of one boot pressed against the smooth leather side of the other as she gets comfortable.

"Hello, Caij!" Monk answers with that same upbeat-ness and extroversion he does everyone else. His bartender programming preventing him from fearing for his life. "I am happy to inform that I possess a built-in cooling system. I cannot overheat at these temperatures."

Caij snorts, amused. She rests one elbow against the bar and holds the droid head up, looking into its optics, her free hand's clawed fingers tap at the wood in rapid succession: pinky, ring, middle, index, and repeat.

"What's a girl gotta do 'round here to get paid for a hard day's work– where's Greez?"

"He'll be here in a minute. Happy to give you credits for scrap, as usual, for sure!"

" 'course he is." the 'if he knows what's good for him' part of that sentence goes unsaid, but it's implicit in her tone.

There's a tension in the air. One that only begins to fade when she grabs her drink from Monk and moves to her usual spot, having no intention of going after Greez. Caij can wait. Of course she can wait, she's got all the time in the world.

She passes the blue bounty hunter on the way to her booth, tips her hat his way as she goes. He's got a nice hat himself, and a man who knows how to clean up nice deserves acknowledgement, bounty hunter or not.

[longhands-the-second]

Volume 2 thoughts, otherwise known as Disorganized Simping On Main. No i will not add pictures i think the lack of context makes it funny

1-

Oh fucking hell is it legato time already? It’s so EARLY. I mean we’d get to the cool stuff faster but SHIT.

Goofiest vash panel spotted

What that mouth d- *gets shot*

Holy shit he’s really different here huh. The depression is seriously obvious; it's wild.

That and he’s like. Extra pretty when he’s angry. Might be because those panels get more love and care put into them because there’s less of them so far.

We’re decapitating people now. DAMN that’s fucking heavy. We’re not even to maximum yet.

Tonally the manga is so much darker but I’m kind of eating it right the fuck up.

I wonder if there’s any significance to the one dollar coins? Those are impossible to find now, let alone however many centuries in the future they are (I think it was something like 400 years? Maybe that was just stampede.)

2-

EY YO COLORED PAGES???

Girl what the fuck-

I want to color this whole goddamn chapter but i have RESPONSIBILITIES and shit (<- unemployed and taking one (1) summer class)

The fucking smile. The switch. I yelled out loud. God they are so fucked up.

The fangs make an appearance. Lovely. Horrible circumstances though.

3-

He looks so fucking tired. Angry, too, but so tired. I love the simmering rage we get here, it’s missing from every other version tbh.

I always forget how absurdly capable he is. That’s the point, I guess, but man. Man.

OH SHIT THE ARM

Knives is so… wrong. In such a fascinating way though. The way he seems happy that Rem managed to save everyone, not for the people but for her- that’s so fucked and i am enamored with his specific brand of bullshit.

4-

I have so many questions about his scars. Like rule of cool or whatever but I need specifics. Why do they look like that in particular? What purpose do the implants serve etc etc?

I didn’t even register that they don’t know it’s a prosthetic. That had to freak them out so bad

His reasoning is interesting here. It’s not about his love for humanity at all, that comes later. He’s doing this for Rem. His vibes here are more like someone struggling to hold himself to what she believed in instead of actually, truly believing in it. It makes him more real, I think.

Maybe it’s the nature of the medium, but everybody seems much more introspective. Meryl specifically sticks out to me.

God he takes it so personally when people are all Dog Eat Dog. I can’t blame him.

Woah. Panty shot. (Side note i can’t WAIT to see him without the coat.)

Hunting he says. What’s he gonna do when he catches him? (Rhetorical)

5-

i read this in class so i didn’t take notes oops

6-

legato is unironically terrifying in the worst way.

I have never been a Huge Wolfwood Enjoyer. However i am charmed by his silly faces.

If i didn’t know better i’d call him a loser (affectionate)

GAY. HOLY SHIT

“come, let’s take ibuprofen together”

I love how 98, if anything, toned this interaction down.

Why the FUCK is midvalley built like a damn brick wall

7-

Vash is so. So fucking cute. My god i am the gayest mf alive.

I guess everyone is on this page but i'm fixated on confused vash he’s got me enamored

“DO NOT ENGAGE. I REPEAT, DO NOT FUCKING ENGAGE.”

I totally didn’t register that his arm was still gone until just now oops

Oh this is perspective porn. Love that shit

I hate to admit this but there’s something about seeing Vash freaked out that makes me grin. It might be like “WOAH SOMETHING IS HAPPENING.” Or i’ve just gone off the deep end.

Is. Is he blushing. Oh my god is he embarrassed-

I have to wonder why the bible is so popular here. Just based on the circumstances? I was never really sure if the events were literal in the trigun universe or not

VASHUSSY!!!!!!!!!!!!! (I am normal about him)

(It is NOT my fault he’s in those pants)

8-

I have a whole essay to write on vash and bodily autonomy but i'm gonna finish reading the manga first- other people have probably said it earlier and better than me.

Oh. Shit. That sure didn’t happen in 98 huh.

I find that every character has gotten more interesting in the manga. This might be because i’m already familiar with their anime counterparts. Wolfwood though, im starting to understand why trimax people like him so much.

The plants are so freaky here fr

CREATURE VASH

this is all kinds of fucked up and based on other posts i’ve seen this week it literally only gets worse from here

I hate how easy it is to empathize with everyone in this situation. I do appreciate Vash pretty much dropping the mask here, like this is what’s under all of the antics and his reputation.

He looks way too good in that top for the situation at hand smh i am SO distracted

Tbh had i not already committed to what i did i would’ve done these pages they’re so pretty

Does wolfwood know anything about this or is it all news to him???

God you can see the actual chunk of shoulder he’s missing from this angle

I do wonder how much of Knives’ concern is him genuinely feeling bad and how much is just like. Manipulation.

God this is so fucked up

On a lighter note the belts bursting from his arm are kind of a cool visual. Shit’s gotta hurt though.

MAN. FUCKING HELL.

EXTRAS

Day in day out- This made me laugh out loud. It also made me sad. No notes.

Pilot- Different vash definitely. My mans would not upskirt a girl like that.

I love seeing concept shit this is wonderful.

Time for trimax now i guess shit fuck goddamn

[wolfiemcwolferson]

I loved your fantasy piarles and it’s probably my favorite fantasy au ever! The whole universe and magic was so cool and such big brained energy! I have to ask is there any more background or snippets you could give of the other characters? I’m so intrigued about Maxiel (Max was probably my favorite side character and loved the way you described him) and Carlando (Did they end up together forever and what is their life like?!?). LEWIS I have so many questions about and Seb and his sad farm!!!!!! (Is there Sewis?!). Now that I’m thinking about it Kimi and his pack!!! GEORGE AND ALEX (rich billionaire immortal boys just trying to live normal everyday lives) Ahhhhhhh I’ve read it three times already and I just keep thinking about it over and over.

Anon!!!

Let me tell you some things about this world because I built such a little world in my head as I was writing this fic.

Max was the first character that I conceptualized for this fic. I was writing this fic at the same time I was writing the Carlando piece of Blue Neighbourhood and I didn't know if I was going to write this as a Piarles story or a Carlando story. (It was meant to be a Piarles story though.) I knew who Max was going to be.

Obviously in this world, all immortal creatures are born and Max's father (who is powerful, but not as powerful as he'd like to be) had children with a very powerful witch essentially to...get the strongest children. Evil, vile man. Much like Jos IRL. Anyway, Max is raised in isolation with his father chasing some kind of something, he's never really sure, but he knows it's like A Big Deal.

He meets Charles at one of the only summits he's allowed to go to and they become friends and it's the first peak at a real life and then he somehow convinces his father to let him go away to study and that's how he meets Daniel. Charles absolutely encourages that and they fall in love.

Jos finds out about it and freaks out and starts to hunt them with some of his shady people and they bond with the help of Max's mom (who he hasn't seen in a long time).

When Jos discovers them, he is beside himself and that's when he goes after Max's sister, but the bonding really took it out of Daniel and Max so they can't go after him, so Charles does. And that's where the life debt comes from with Max.

Daniel really just spends the next hundred years showing Max the world before they buy a place in New York.

Now, Carlando.

They do end up together. Something that I didn't mention in the epilogue that is just pure HC is that Charles and Pierre and Co. work out the ritual to not just make vampires, but also werewolves. (And they make it happen without nearly ending in death all around.) ((And this is also what Jos was chasing - The Big Thing.))

I mentioned Carlos was studying native animals when he met Lando and Carlos would really rather be a werewolf. He's 35 when Lando turns him and then Lando takes him to see every single mountain range in the world and listens to his endless lectures.

Lando and Carlos eventually settle down outside of Serra de Tramuntana in Spain because the entire island is actually wolves - which they discover while they're visiting.

It turns into kind of a preternatural getaway resort type of town within the century and Lando finds the family he's been looking since his birth packs death.

Lewis and Seb and Kimi:

"They're the old generation". In that, they're all much older than the others and they were the ones who "broke tradition" and kind of paved the way for the younger crowd to have the lives they do.

In my brain: Seb and Lewis come and go out of each others lives because Lewis likes to travel in his plane and rubs elbows and do what he wants and Seb is happy to have his farm and give a place to preternatural creatures who need a place to recover. They're happy. It works for them.

Kimi continues to run Seattle with his rogue pack and he loves being out of the preternatural world - but he's always begging the kids to stop dragging trouble into his land.

George and Alex:

They really just want to live their lives. George is a doctor and he loves being a doctor and Alex runs through all kinds of occupations - he owns a diner, he's a teacher for a little while - at a human school.

But then you know, Charles and Pierre take in the witchling child (but then there's a werewolf cub and they even foster a selkie for a little bit while Seb finds a family of selkies to take them in, but they end up with two witchlings, a werewolf, and a vampire for keeps) and when it's time to send her off to do some formal education, they're shocked to find that...the school that Max and Charles attended together has...It's not good.

Charles calls Alex and is all, "We can't send her there, think of all the children that are being deprived of vital schooling, it's so sad Alex, won't you think of the children. Anyway, Lewis already bought us some land in the wilderness of Canada and we have all of the permits and approval from the council already, so..."

And thats how George and Alex end up as Headmaster's of The Hamilton School for Preternatural Creatures. (There might be half a fic floating around in my brain about that, but don't push it. Ok. I can't take that on right now. *crosses fingers behind my back*)

[flaim-ita]

Odd numbers for a Geats character of your choice!

You know I have to go with Ace

1 - My first impression of them

Love at first sight. I’m a Tsukasa fan so it goes without saying that I was THRILLED to have a new asshole boy for the first time in nearly 15 years. And then ep 1 his and I was fully cursed forever. He was so confident and cool and I just KNEW he was going to have something so very wrong with him

3 - A song that reminds me of them

Outside of canon Geats ones I guess the only one I can think of might be Black Sorrow from Alien Stage https://youtu.be/v0Rl9Au21lI

5 - My favorite ship of them

Ot4. I was obviously a mark for this one of course I am a Decade fan but they are all so mentally ill and I want the series to end with the four together or looking for each other, depending

7 - A quote of them that you remember

“My mother has done no wrong. I’ll prove it” the poor man is setting himself up for failure. Plus like wow. On a scale of Ace to Steven Universe what is your stance on blaming your abused mother for all war crimes and suffering ever?

9 - Your least favorite outfit of them

Ace wears this ridiculously oversized everything for Zombie arc and I cannot stop bullying it. But his worst suit is LazerBoost it’s too bulky and Mk II is sexier.

11 - What’s the first thing you think about when thinking about the character?

I want to ruin him. If he’s lucky, his cule will get the pieces to put back together.

13 - Your favorite friendship they have

Ace slowly going from forcing Tsumuri to be his sister to them clearly being genuinely open and honest with each other in the latest ep gives me Life.

15 - Worst storyline they had

I don’t have a single complaint about Ace like genuinely at all. But if I had to choose and acknowledging that I know why (making it easier on his beloved friends to fight him if he plays the villain mode up, also Keiwa basically just called him a sin to be rectified), I do wish he’d told the others what was being done to his mother.

17 - What do you think their first word was?

Mama. In every life, the first word he parses out, and usually much faster than most children, is whatever form of mother is easiest to say.

19 - The most random ship you've seen people have with them

Someone on Ao3 has written Ace x Hideyoshi Kan and I want to study their brain. I do not however want to read the fic.

21 - When do you think they were at their happiest?

Neon’s birthday. When Keiwa said “Ace is Ace”. I think in that moment Ace felt close to true happiness for the first time in centuries and it crashed as soon as it rose.

23 - Future headcanon

When everything is over, Ace keeps his hollow wishes. What he does not keep is his true one. His mother is dead, and he isn’t sure if he will finally forget, after this life. What he does know is none of the others can go home, and he built one especially for a DGP built family.

The Star of the Star of the Stars lives with popular breakout streamer Neon, who speaks openly about abuse and mental health issues in careful video essays but also chats and dances and is bright during actual streams. They live with three more mysterious individuals, Keiwa and Michinaga, who sometimes appear on streams, and Ace’s mysterious “Nee-San.”

What they don’t see: Ace is empty. Perhaps he forever will be. But having a family helps.

Even if it’s not who he spent so long searching for.

25 - When do you think they acted the most ooc

Ace rescuing Giroli like 2 days before Fox Hunt was hilarious timing but not necessarily OOC. Although it’s the only time his actions felt off from the reality of the story, it’s minor and movies are filmed super early.

As for proper OOC, when he’s all “I don’t care” about Michinaga. It makes sense, he finds Michinaga far too pathetic now to be a real rival, but it still feels odd.

27 - If they could meet a character from another show/movie/etc, who would be the most fun for them to meet?

I want him to meet Tsukasa because I miss Tsukasa desperately and I think they’d vibe together.

Also for non Toku I have this distinct image in my head of a Steven Universe crossover where not only have multiple Aces been friends with Rose, he then meets Steven and is kind of like “oh yeah of course there were things wrong with your mother but at the end of the day I think she wanted to be a good person, more than I did at the times, and we don’t necessarily have a right to judge what worlds our mothers definitely hoped would be better to us than to them.“

29 - How do you think they would be as a parent?

Ace seemed unsurprised that past and future people could not have kids so I do believe every Ace has had fertility issues, as a half breed himself. Any kids he did have, they didn’t live very long.

Ace is a doting father but he is distant and hyper vigilant. By the time the baby is two months he has had them checked for every possible disease and condition. He will always make sure the baby is clean and fed and cared for, but it takes longer to bond. After all, it never stops hurting when he loses a child.

When he does bond, it’s even more obvious. He is convinced his child is the most wonderful person in the universe, takes her with him when it’s safe, and cherished every moment.

If it’s Ukiyo Ace, the child survives.

[coffeexmythos]

Open all the windows, turn on all the fans. Take out the ice cubes and sweet tea, take off whatever clothes you felt okay with removing. Maybe, maybe, it would make the summer night easier to deal with.

Even though I turned off the coffee maker hours ago, the scent still traced circles in the air. Somewhere outside, flowers bloomed. The kitchen floor cooled my skin more than the bathtub did. I closed my eyes.

He lingered at the edges of my mind. I opened my eyes, and he was there, sitting on the countertop.

Carter smiled at me.

I closed my eyes again.

"Aren't you hot?" I asked. "Or do you not feel it, since you're… dead?"

His amusement felt like a hand ruffling my hair.

"I feel it," he said. "But it doesn't do anything to me. I don't have a physical body that can sweat or overheat. I don't suffer anymore. I just feel."

"That must be nice." I lifted my white cotton shirt up higher, to let the air onto my stomach. "What else do you feel?"

"Everything. Everything you can imagine and everyone you can't," he said. "This is a wondrous existence."

I opened my eyes again, and turned my gaze towards him.

"Aren't you lonely?"

He blinked.

"I mean," I continued. "How long have you been alone?"

"I…" The freckled man but his lip, looked down at his hands. They clenched, turned one way, the other, unclenched. "You know," he said, voice slow. "I should be lonely. And yet, I don't feel any of the sort at all."

Carter leaned back on his hands. His eyes focused on the window above my kitchen sink.

"Considering what led me here," he said, "I myself am surprised to realize that."

"What do you mean?" I pushed himself up off the floor to look at him.

The light overhead hummed. Carter closed his eyes.

"I loved," he said.

"A person?"

"Existence, first. The invisible things. The knowledge that no one wanted seen. The cats that roamed the streets. Forgotten books left in forgotten library rooms… I loved it all… I wanted more. I wanted…"

He smiled. "I wanted to be loved by it, the way I loved them."

I didn't say anything.

"Of course, that's pretty silly, isn't it?" He opened his eyes and looked at me, and his smile warmed my skin like sunshine. "Even if it could love me back, it was a dangerous love. Things are forbidden for good reason, aren't they?"

"Yeah," I said, nodding.

His smile faded at the edges. 

"Dangerous. Any love built on this knowledge would be. Dangerous love. Forbidden love, even by the gods."

"The Crawling Chaos," I said.

Carter jolted, his eyes widening as they looked at me.

"He stopped you, didn't he?" I said. "He got in the way."

His shoulders sagged.

"That one, and I," he started. He stopped. He started again. "He hunted me for entertainment. It was a game to him. All too real for me. Millions of years and thousands of planets, and this game has still not ended."

"Are you tired?" I said.

"I am lonely," he said.

"There is no one quite like me," he said. "One who ignorantly gave it all away, and yet was rewarded for it. One who lost it all, but gained something better. Do you understand, Wes?"

"No," I said.

"I am not human anymore," he said. "So can you tell me - What is more horrific than abandoning your humanity?" 

He said, "What is more human than giving it all up for love?"

I didn't answer.

"What was her name?" I asked instead.

Carter smiled at me.

"I never said I loved a 'her'."

[regrettablewritings]

I loved your Jayce headcannons! Could you do f, h, u and w for him too? xo

Oh I'm so glad! And heck yeah, I had a lotta fun writing Jayce out. It's pretty refreshing trying out new territory, so gimme gimme! 😊

F (Flirty - how do they flirt?): Jayce Talis: Piltover’s Golden Boy, its Man of Progress, co-creator of the world-changing Hextech, and, most recently, an established member of the Council. A man built for the people . . . who also isn’t necessarily the absolute best with them. Of course, he’s better at creating a public face than Viktor is, but that’s not saying much: Most of his exposure interacting with others came from the few times he, as a member of lower nobility, had to save face at an event. Or, by a more predominant comparison, when he accompanied Caitlyn to events so she wouldn’t be as bored or nervous.

What people seem to forget is that Jayce is actually an introvert, preferring to cloister himself in apartments and labs to research and explore his life’s ambitions. He’s actually not as particularly experienced with having to flirt as people presume. Especially since, well, he’s hardly ever really had to: By age 24, he was a 6’7” wall of tanned muscle, built up from years working at the family foundry. And this is without noting that boyishly good smile of his, or his adorably thick brows! In short, a lot of interested suitors and such were satisfied with him just for looking good.

It's also arguably for the best, considering that that image of the most put-together man all but evaporates the moment Jayce tries to actually, well, try and flirt.

That massive body of his becomes his downfall, appearing awkward in what was meant to be a cool lean. And that boyish smile of his? All wobbly, making his words tumble out weirder than his clumsy tongue already made them. Is it what he wants to present himself as? Probably not. But you nevertheless find it endearing, and this proves to be Jayce’s way in.

See, because Jayce feels everything intensely, he winds up trying too hard; it’s just better for both parties involved if he doesn’t try so hard. Well, at least not in the most obvious ways.

Being the helping hand he is, it comes a lot more naturally to him if he just offers to be there for you and help you out. Literally, no task is too big or too small: You need help shopping for groceries? He’s there. You want to locate an antique, jewel-encrusted soup ladle for a soiree this coming weekend? . . . You’d better be joking because even if he’s pretty sure that doesn’t exist, he’s at least going to put in the effort of hunting one down, or at least something similar. At this point, it’s not even the same as him trying to butter you up: He just genuinely wants to be of service to you, to be in your good graces, and to tell you in so many ways that you and your needs matter to him.

As a result, his supporting presence allows the both of you to grow more comfortable with one another. And soon enough, that mean lean of his doesn’t even have to exist; that smile is real and has structure, allowing his words to come out clearly. He actually stands a chance at flirting properly, be it with actual words or a wink the gods would envy the creation of.

All in all, when it comes to flirting, Jayce isn’t the Golden Boy that Piltover built him up to be: He’s more like a puppy, eager to please despite how awkward he might initially be in your eyes. It’s just plain adorable.

H (Hot - what is their favorite look on their partner?): Given that Jayce wears his Academy uniform almost exclusively well into his twenties, it’s safe to suggest that he probably shouldn’t have any say on what he does or doesn’t find appealing on his partner. Not that he really cares: While Piltover may have held little to no grand importance for much of its existence (at least in the eyes of most of Runeterra), it still has its share of different people with just as many different styles and accessories. He feels confident in saying that he’s seen it all, and he doesn’t particularly care to question most styles unless they’re just too absurd to pass up. (And given all that he has seen even in the relatively limited space of Piltover, it would take a lot to be that absurd.)

That being said, there is at least one particular thing Jayce has a soft spot for when it comes to you and what you wear: He likes seeing things symbolic of House Talis on you.

It’s just that up until the success of the Hexgates, Talis was given little to no regard. Certainly, their craftsmanship with tools and the sort were integral to the creation of Piltover. But in the current era, that still apparently amounted to little more than a fancy title and perhaps some very minor privileges like attending galas over-saturated with Piltover’s upper of the upper class.

Minor houses like that of House Talis were sprinkled in there “for diverse flavoring”; nobody said it, but everyone knew it. And while Jayce wasn’t ashamed to bear the name, one would have to admit that there often wasn’t much pride that was expected to accompany it. Talises were, in a sense, just meant to be there as a benchmark of sorts.

But Jayce wasn’t going to look a gift horse in the mouth when his creation brought a new level of honor to his house. And he wanted to share that feeling with you – if you were willing to accept it, that is. It could be something as subtle as the house colors, or as blatant as the T-shaped hammer, molded to create a ring or necklace or some other fascinator. Whatever makes you the most comfortable. Heck, if it suited your preferences, he would even fashion a pauldron bearing the Talis insignia for you! He may not get it, but far be it from him to deter you.

He wants to show you off. To envelope you in his House so that all may know that someone like you saw it as a name worth bearing. And if you intend to not only wear his name, but adopt it, then . . .

U (Unity - what would their wedding be like?): He doesn’t set out for a big, bombastic wedding. Not at first, anyway. Sure, the desire strikes him to give you everything he thinks you deserve: A towering cathedral with golden arches in the ceiling, the golden light of the sun reaching through crystalline windows to illuminate you both as you announce to an awaiting audience your declaration of eternal love and devotion to one another . . . But it does occur to him that maybe he just wants this because it reflects just how big his feelings for you are. And as sweet as that may be, it doesn’t necessarily embody the lives the both of you are bringing together in order to create one.

Despite (and even perhaps because of) his celebrity, Jayce doesn’t actually have very many ties to invite to one of the most important days of his life: His mother, Viktor, and Caitlyn are the only for certain attendees he has to bring, with Heimerdinger’s own presence depending on where their relationship stands at that point. He may invite members of the Council to attend, but that would mostly just be to save social face; he wouldn’t be hurt whatsoever if they decided not to come in the end.

As a result, the ceremony itself would be rather quiet. Very private. Even if you have it in that big cathedral he was thinking about, witnessing the event would fall only to the few people you and Jayce have invited, and the prying eyes of those who managed to sneak up to one of the windows and take a gander. It’s admittedly a little off-putting, and Jayce admittedly could’ve and should’ve hired more security. But you don’t let it bother you and ruin this magical moment for the both of you.

As for the reception . . . Well, it doesn’t really matter what the both of you intended for the afterparty to play like: The city of Piltover would take it upon themselves to expand on that initially tiny gathering. It’s not every day that their Golden Boy gets married, after all.

What was meant to be a small event, limited to a couple of hours in a day could potentially be treated like a holiday of sorts, spanning over two days. Possibly even a week if you count the fanfare leading up to the actual wedding date! You become familiar with the sight of banners dyed in House Talis’ colors, complete with inscriptions of the famous insignia and golden congratulations flying in the wind on nearly every street. Bundles of flowers decorate lamp posts and create waterfalling effects on balconies. You even swore that one day you saw a little girl carrying a doll that looked suspiciously like you.

And this is before heading back to the home you’ve established together: Gifts from ambassadors and admirers from various corners of the continent create a mountain in the foyer, ranging from all sizes and shapes. Bottles of foreign wines and sweet delights line the table, more clothing than you even know what to do with accompany cards that wish you both well. (And this is without dwelling on the aphrodisiacs that take the form of teas and vials of colorful substances . . .)

In a way, Jayce’s hopes of giving you a big wedding sort of happen. Admittedly, it’s not quite in the fashion he’d hoped, but no matter: Not everyone can boast about having a royal wedding for the price of a small ceremony.

W (Whisper - what pet names and compliments do they use?): It doesn’t matter if House Talis has been known as a lesser nobility for most of its existence: To Jayce, you’ll always be his princess. And he’ll do his best to make you feel like one, even before the success of Hextech, even if that’s predominantly limited to the best lunch dates that he can afford or accompanying you to parties where he will try his best to dance like a noble suitor trying to sweep a maiden princess off her feet.

It’s what greets you the most when you wake up in the mornings, coupled with that endearing and adoring smile of his. Or what title he assigns you when he sleepily stumbles through the door after one too many nights hanging over a crystal in the lab. It doesn’t matter where you are in life together: Nothing sets your heart a-flutter like hearing him go “Hey there, Princess” or “Thank you, princess.”

Except, of course, for when he calls you “kitten”. You’re just so small and delicate when compared to him, how could he resist calling you that? Plus, he insists that you have a tendency to purr and mewl whenever he’s, ahem, “attentive to you”. Suffice to say, “kitten” tends to come out when Jayce is in an especially playful mood.

But then, the same could also arguably go for when you’re his “lovely assistant”. Granted, this one tends to pop up less with seductive intent and more with soft playfulness than anything. It accompanies you whenever you do, well, anything for him.

You enter the lab for a visit? “Ah! There’s my lovely assistant!”

You bring him lunch while he’s working? “Thank you, my lovely assistant.”

You make him a hot cup of tea? “And how was my lovely assistant’s day?”

You let him use you as a soundboard to talk out his thoughts regarding a problem with a piece of Hextech while Viktor is for once not present? . . . Okay, mostly that’s followed by a eureka moment, followed by a deep kiss that lifts you out of your seat. Hearing him actually calling you anything in that moment isn’t a guarantee, but you certainly don’t mind it.

All in all, you’re Jayce’s multi-layered sweetheart: A fair princess, a lovely assistant and lifesaver, and a sweet and desirable kitten. You are everything he wants and more . . .

Thank you sososososososo much for your patience with this one, anon!!

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

The Long Con Part Five

Previous Part | Masterlist | Next Part Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader Rating: T Notes: I hope y’all had a good week! 💕 Warnings: This is almost purely fluff. There’s some angst in there, but it’s just, like...A speck. And it’s covered over by fluff. Also I’ve never been to Austin, I did a lot of Googling for this bit, so if any of it is inaccurate, I’m sorry!! It seems like such a cool town and I don’t wanna do it a disservice! Lastly, I linked the museum and the art pieces mentioned in the chapter at the end of the chapter, under the tags. Summary: You’d stayed behind to get ready— but you didn’t know what exactly what you were be getting ready for.

While you and Marcus would be helping Marnie and the family out with wedding prep during the week, they didn’t have anything in particular scheduled for that day. After he’d had his breakfast, Marcus had showered, gotten dressed, and left to get the car that he’d rented for two of you to use that week. You’d stayed behind to get ready— but you didn’t know what exactly what you were be getting ready for. “I wanna show you around while we’ve got some time,” Marcus had told you between stealing sips of your coffee (which were solely permitted because the two of you were pretending to be together - if this had been under any other circumstance, he would not have gotten away with a single sip. His parents had found it adorable. You had found it a loss of coffee).

You dressed in casual clothing, things that you knew you’d have no trouble walking around in for the day. Marcus honked twice once he was outside in the rental, and you bid quick goodbyes to his family. 

-- “So,” Marcus glanced over at you from behind the dark lenses of his aviator sunglasses, “We have a few options-- well, we’ve got a ton, but, I was thinking we could take a tour of the Capitol building, and check out the Harry Ransom Center -- it’s this massive archive and library. There are a few places we could hit for lunch, and then… I don’t know, the Lady Bird Johnson Wildflower Center? And I thought we could finish with the Blanton Museum of Art?... Or is that, like, a no, since we’re both kinda around art all the time?” You watched him for a few moments, stunned. He’d clearly gone out of his way to think about what you’d like to do -- places that he knew and that you would like. He wanted you to have fun, and time out of the house - away from his family. Marcus was taking you out and about like… Like he probably would a real girlfriend. “That all sounds really awesome,” You admitted softly. Marcus grinned at you, and you settled back in your seat, facing forward again. -- Conversation came as easily as it had when you were in D.C. Marcus dropped the odd fact about Austin now and again (though it was nothing near his panicked post-flight info-dump), pointed out his old haunts, told you about his and Marnie’s childhoods. Even without his family around, you found that the two of you kept close. You reached for one another’s hands; Marcus drew you into his side when you were in crowded places; even when there was plenty of room, Marcus’ hand was on your shoulder, or your back. The contact was comforting; it didn’t feel forced.  You found yourselves strolling through the Blanton with your fingers intertwined, speaking in hushed tones so as not to disturb the patrons around you. It was where the two of you wound up spending most of your day, discussing Fogel’s Conflict and Kern’s The Adoration of the Magi and Dorigny’s Diana of the Hunt. When you drifted into the Klimt pieces on loan from the Belvedere Museum in Vienna, and the two of you stopped in front of The Kiss, Marcus cupped your chin and leaned down, pecking the corner of your lips. You couldn’t help the stupid grin that took over your face, and you leaned into him, turning your head and hiding your face in his shoulder. 

He just curled an arm around you, smoothing a thumb along your side as you let your sheepishness run its course. You turned your head as it ebbed away, finally, taking in the intertwined lovers, robed in gold and adorned with flowers. 

--

“Okay, this… Is stupidly cool,” You admitted, looking around. “I was a little worried that you were going to stop at ‘stupid’.” “No!” You laughed, “I’ve never been anywhere like this.” Marcus had brought you to a bar with an arcade in Southern Congress for dinner. The two of you had ordered dinner and were looking for a few games to play before the food arrived. “They’ve got a little bit of everything. Pinball, Pac-man, Tron, Skeeball,” Marcus listed off. “Galaga?” “They’ve got Galaga.” “Perfect.” Marcus was exceptional at Pac-man and pinball, but you learned that you had the upper hand when it came to air hockey. You managed to play two games of it (both of which you won) before the food came. “Today has all been insanely awesome,” You told him after you’d polished off your pizza, “Thank you. I mean-- Seriously, you didn’t have to do this.” “I didn’t want you feeling like we were stuck at my family’s place all week, and...I mean I know we’re down here for Marnie, but you said you’d never been to Austin. I didn’t want you to miss out on seeing the city.” You and Marcus shared a smile before he added, “The whole day has been insanely awesome, huh?” “Yeah.” “Even in the kitchen?” “You mean when you were drinking my coffee? ‘Cause that put you on thin ice, mister.” “Right before that,” He corrected. The smile he was giving you was two parts bashfulness and one part coy. You folded one arm on the table, pillowing your chin on your other hand. “...Yeah, I’d include that. As first kisses go, it was…” You nodded a little, eyeing Marcus from under your lashes, “It was very...Very nice.” “‘Very nice’?” Marcus repeated, “I guess that’s not the worst review I’ve ever gotten.” “Don’t get all huffy,” You chuckled, ”I mean it, it was… I forgot what being kissed like that even felt like.” “What do you mean?” “I mean that...Was my first kiss in two years.” “Two-- How is that possible?” Marcus’ brow furrowed. You rolled your eyes a little bit, glancing away from Marcus as embarrassment swirled in your stomach. “The last person was my ex-fiancé. After that fell apart…” You shrugged, “I haven’t dated since.” You felt Marcus lean a little closer to get a better look at you. “Did you give up on finding someone?” “Not on purpose. I think I just...Built up some walls that I had torn down really quickly with them. And I built those walls up double. I prioritized work-- the devil I knew, you know.” “No dates, nothing?” “Nope.” “How many people did you turn down?” “What makes you think I turned anyone down?” Marcus tipped his head to the side, giving you a slight once-over as he muttered, “C’mon.” You shook your head, letting out a quiet, embarrassed laugh. “Well, how long after your engagement broke did you wait to date?” You asked. Marcus’ lips pressed into a thin, contemplative line before he admitted, “Five months.” “What made you get back out there? I mean… How’d you know you were ready?” “I wasn’t, but I was worried that if I waited until I was, the woman that had asked me out wouldn’t be available when I got there. I took a leap. It wasn’t a good leap, but it was a leap,” he chuckled, “And it made me remember that dating can suck and putting myself out there could be scary, but… Ultimately, it’s worth it.” You and Marcus regarded one another quietly for a moment. You couldn't even imagine what he was thinking. You couldn't understand how he was still so open to finding love when he'd been hurt the way he had. That sort of loss had only made you want to recede; it seemed to make Marcus even more determined to find love. Frankly, it was a wonder that he hadn't yet— he was the kindest man you'd ever met. You lowered your eyes to your empty plate as you realized that you were staring. It was easy to get caught up in his warm eyes; you’d found it happening more often lately, and it certainly suited the purposes of the lie you were playing up around his family. But there was something about all of it— his gaze, his smile, everything that the two of you had done today — it stirred up twinges or remorse. Lately you’d found yourself wondering if there ever could’ve been something real between the two of you, if you’d met under different circumstances. That was a very dangerous line of thought.

“If you’re finished with your food, we can go play some more air hockey.” You smiled at the offer, glancing back up at him as you asked, “I didn’t kick your ass enough the first time?” “Oh-- I was just warming up.” “Clocking all of my moves?” “Exactly.” “We’ll see about that.” (You beat him three more times.) (You let him win once.)

--

You flicked off the light before getting into bed, tucking yourself in beside Marcus. He yawned and mumbled, “G’night.” “Goodnight, what?” Marcus let out an exaggerated sigh, “Goodnight, supreme air hockey winner.” “Thank you.” “Mhm.” “I don’t ask for much.” “I know.” “Just that you steer clear of my coffee—” “Uh huh.” “And address me by my proper title.” You glanced over as you felt Marcus shift in the bed. Your breath caught in your throat as his arm wound around your middle, his hand dangling against your side as he rested his forehead against your shoulder. “Sleep,” He urged in a mumble, “Oh supreme one.” You settled down, resting one of your hands atop Marcus’ arm. It was a warm, comforting weight; a sweet touch that you could, if you weren’t careful, find yourself getting used to. “‘Oh supreme one’,” You repeated quietly, peering up at the ceiling, “I could get used to that.” Tag list: @hufflepuffing-all-day-long​ ; @spideysimpossiblegirl​ ; @blueeyesatnight​ ; @elen-aranel​ ; @yespolkadotkitty​ ; @artsymaddie​ ; @phoenixhalliwell​ ; @lunaserenade​ ; @winniedaboo​  ; @empress-palpat1ne​ ; @randomness501​ ; @nutmeg-20​ ; @leonieb​ ; @the-feckless-wonder​ ; @lou-la-lou​ ; @captain-jebi​ ; @supernaturalgirl​ ; @naturenebula21​ ; @evelynseventyr​ ; @giselatropicana​ ; @heatherbel​ ; @marydjarin​ ; @annathewitch​ ; @absurdthirst​​ ; @hnt-escape​ ; @writingletterstothefire​​ ; @misswriter​​ ; @bison-writes​​

Museums & Art Work

The Blanton Museum of Art

Fogel’s Conflict

Kern’s The Adoration of the Magi

 Dorigny’s Diana of the Hunt The Belvedere Museum

Klimt’s The Kiss

[xxxdragonfucker69xxx]

PART THREE POINT TWO: DARI OF THE MISTS

i was promised a fnu and fucked up spot and i was NOT disappointed. the old laws and the afterlives make the underworld so bizarrely, like, potent? in ways i would normally say are metaphorical but are in fact literal. dari is where you go if you die in debt, and it is a city of debtors, but it can't be permanent slavery -- that isnt the old law of debt. &btw The mists

KESUNDANG!!!!! whoever wrote this you have my regards. its an indonesian segmented state and its a GIANT FUCKING SWORd mountain. and you fight your way to the top. they have scooped me to 10kdays. also at its top is a strangler fig marked with the tally of lives, because "Everything happens, will happen, and will have happened. Here is the truth of death: it cannot  leave. Life cannot leave."

and now afterlives, starting with crumbling farum i mean the moment of flame and darkness, which goes hard as hell. an everlasting suspended explosion of smoke and fume, it's the afterlife of those who die in the prison city of fortitude, and its heroes can grab wild shit out of its heart, and fight off spectres who are here for the same

....except, of course, if you die unheroic and forgotten then you merge into the darkness and the flame and might become something like "the Torch of  Consumption, a once-sacrifice to the Buried God and now an ever-burning wraith". yippee

ixcoatli's shadow is really interesting bc the ixcoatli theomilitary preaches reincarnation, so what do you do when you wake up as a ghost instead? some of them train to become warriors and earn reincarnation, and become soldiers; some keep an enormous ghostly archive called the temple of twiceborn lives; sometimes the humans and frogfolk wear bird and serpent masks to recreate their living hierarchies

sky pavilion fucks. the varang live by astrological castes, but there's no stars in the underworld. tat's ok, storebought is fine. they built a night sky over the afterlife of varang, maintained by magical mechanism, with its own predictive power... but at the same time, it's now beginning to fall apart, giving you the opportunity to either wreck it or ruin it. getting real nokron vibes here.

the slowwwwww fucking gyre. i was sort of obsessed with the gaiders mourn story in fl so i was psyched as fucking hell to see this. if you die at sea, and you know its coming, you might be dragged into the slow gyre and the splintered steps, made of all the shipwrecks drawn into it

"gut anglers — inhuman, hook trailing hunters intent on dragging ghosts into the utmost depths" talk dirty to me

oh, it's called the splintered steps bc the salvage council is literally dragging shipwrecks around to form a stairway to the bottom where theres even crazier salvage. cool cool cool

the flint teeth if you die on the hunt you can wake up here and continue hunting things like "obsidian-footed oryxes, phantom-raptors with feathers of condensed regret,  and man-sized cobras that move through stone like fish through water". or get hunted by them. i love hunters moon

"The ghosts of the Teeth hunt above, and seek below. Memories and desires unmet congeal in the  deepest darknesses beneath the afterlife, filling subterranean chambers like trickles from an  aquifer. Some ghost drink deep, eventually dissolving in the bittersweet memory of goals  desperately sought after but never obtained. Such terminal passions can be distilled; those who  drink them are consumed for a time by the fervent, unmet desire of the twice-deceased." ugh i love this!!!!!!!!!

i have to paste the whole first paragraph of arid scape verbatim hangon

"Blasted by dust-filled wind and swirling cyclones of plutonic salt, baked by horrid failure-suns  which shed only heat and desiccation, the Arid Scape welcomes those who die of thirst or heatstroke. The brackish rivers Deadweight and Blacktongue curl around its base, while the salt seared Metody’s Breath cuts its way through its northern plateau. While outsiders caught in the  storms may be destroyed if they don’t find shelter, those dead who have already perished through  desiccation and heat once find themselves inured to its effects. Many are reduced to withered and  leathery figures by the Scape’s conditions, armoring themselves in their own baked skins. " &btw the dead hate it here but theyve grown used to the heat and everywhere else is deathly cold to them. fuuuuuuck

"In the humid Fields of Jamiyun, ghostly farmers toil and laze in the oppressive heat of a never ending summer. The ghosts here died of exhaustion amidst their labors in fields and rice paddies  throughout Creation. It is a languid afterlife, tiring but peaceful under the rule of King Jamiyun;  neighbors war against one another to control the roads in and out so they might dominate its  export of cereals and grains rich with the reverence of honest work. These rivals join together  only to fight the Three Bandit Kings, specter-warlords who bedevil the Fields of Jamiyun  infrequently with scourges of flame, frost, and locusts. " come on! come fucking on!!!!

oh my god they put the lotus naraka in here

WAN AKORE IS ONE OF THE UNDERWORLDS FAILED MOONS!!!

"The Peregrination is a cathedral that ambles on great legs of gristle and ivory; the ghosts of this  afterlife follow in its wake, for they are the souls of pilgrims who died in their journeying. It is  the fondest hope of these ghosts to ascend the cathedral" come fucking on. Those who manage are welcomed by the cathedral’s attendants, who fete  the pilgrim, anoint them in sacred acid-oils, and pour their dissolving corpus into a vast reliquary  chalice." come fucking on!!!!!!!!!

this commentary has become very incoherent this just bangs

i just had to copypaste the entire protruding city writeup into one of my other chats so. you know.

i sort of fucking love tournament. bros being guys. when the guys in the middle so much as shift pose everyone goes "oh shit" and writes 43,684 posts

"Stalker’s Lair is a mist-shrouded chain of forested islets featuring halls whose baroque  architecture is riddled with secret passages and intricate puzzles. The ghosts within enjoy a  contemplative afterlife, punctuated by moments of abject horror as they are fed upon by a many legged behemoth, semi-aquatic and feline. The hunter devours bites of their memories as its  food, and drinks in the resulting fear and confusion." JESUS

oh shit!!!!! dragon kings have their own network of afterlives connected by the journey of the nineteen-gate road.... fuck i really really love that

"The dead of the Anointed Steppe are wrapped in scrolls covered in intricate print, expediting  their passage through The Queues." oh i love the blue kingdom

shadowlands!! half here and half there. im flagging so im really gonna skim here but

" Rare phalanx-fruits sometimes blossom on the  outstretched hands of certain behemoth-corpses; when planted in Creation, they sprout ashen  trees laden with ebony leaves in a matter of days, sucking the land’s vitality dry in one greedy  gulp to leave a shadowland behind. " yeah thats hot

"Clientele often include both the recently and the long-since deceased, causing  merchants, night wardens, and street vendors to dabble in ancient turns of phrase to better suit  their customers. It’s not uncommon for such ventures to retain long-outdated social customs,  especially in shadowlands presided over by elder ghosts of significant power." really really love this bit

skullstooooooone. im not allowed to read this too closely bc spoilers but im going to just a little peek.

"In the hinterlands, goats and sheep graze heath, lichens, and seaweed to produce dairy; strange  fish, seabirds, and seals go into stews. Zombies farm crops that are hardy or touched by death:  bonewheats, legume, and root crops. Sickly-sweet berries make jams and wines; elites in Onyx  enjoy candies, soft breads, and rich blood soups, while sailors eat preserved pemmican.  Northwestern whale blubber and spices from the Neck — especially black pepper — are highly  prized." NO MORE CAVE SLIME

i got excited and posted early. mecha name demersal anarchy

THORNS

fuuuuuck i wanna run something in juggernaut so bad. maybe i can trick my old dnd group into it. i read abaddons new necromancy battlechess game and its sort of giving me the same itch

its really interesting to me how much thorns is characterized by the losses of the autocrats war, almost as much as being conquered by the mask. really really cool vibe

"Most homes in Thorns display elaborately carved and painted gates made of oak that residents  and visitors must pass through. Larger estates’ gates have two entrances: one large enough for a  carriage to pass beneath, the other sized for people on foot. The carvings depict the family’s  ancestors and their deeds, the Elemental Dragons, and blessings from the gods. Most gates are  topped with a shingle-roofed dovecote, where household members placed offerings and grave goods for their ancestors. The shadowland’s appearance has reunited some families with beloved  elders, making the gates a gathering place where youths consult with those who’ve gone before.  Other ghosts, whose families died in the fighting or fled the city, keenly feel the loss of the  offerings they once counted on. " love this. such a good good use of the metaphor and the literal.

" Though the  vineyards have struggled, cooks with access to pre-invasion vintages braise meats or roast  vegetables in it, and bottles scavenged from abandoned homes are common barter." like look at this!

the art and the music...and rebellion

....man! the revels! the arts and the music! thornish ghosts feel kinda guilty about it!

the academy eternal.... again, love to set something here

next up: a brief look at castes and then CHARMS

I'M BEHIND SCHEDULE

HOUR IN BLACK, PART THREE : THE UNDERWORLD

im skimming really fast because CHARMS have already dropped and i need to get there

!! the outline: lethe and the sea of shadows, but now islands jut out from it which are afterlives. some afterlives are ritual afterlives formed by funerary ceremony and ancestor worship, some are primeval afterlives about the manner of your death. big change! it's full of ghosts, who you mostly know. ghosts aren't their full living selves, death takes a lot from them and theyre defined by their passions and grow weirder after death,

soulsteel.....

phantom beasts! vesper-wolves and pyre-maggots.... cool

prehuman ghosts! omg even dragon king ghosts.... yes yes yes

the history of the underworld is so incredible. im usually sort of tepid on these sections, even though i like the idea of having a history, but for whatever reason this one is soooo cool to me

stygian archipelago!!!

"Bereft of stable stars or predictable trade winds, ghostly sailors develop other means of charting  their course, whether following in the wake of phantom leviathans, piloting their ships under the  auspice of oracular trances, or reconciling the movements of the Calendar of Setesh with local  geomancy" BANGIN!!!!

the old laws are so fascinating to e... the little hints have me a little bit obsessed. man imagine playing stories like the fallen london stories about correspondence and discordance but to repair the old laws... mmm

ugh i looove the different aterlives so much

whispers... and the labyrinth

"Specters in the thrall of Thundering Dissolution join their minds  with his in the Symphony of Omnipresence, a psychic whirlpool that shears away the borders  between their consciousnesses" oh y god i have to use this shit somehow

stygia!!! hot damn... extreme politics at the heart of the underworld

i have a soft spot for the calendar of setesh ever since i made The Wheel And Weight of Grinding Time Crushes All Beneath Its Passage, an abyssal obsessed with hijacking the calendar via pirate radio to install a new constellation

"Each district’s boundaries are reinforced on the first day of each year with a ceremonial  procession. The regent must touch each of the district’s ancient boundary-stones, and shifting  those stones as part of the rite allows one district to expand at another’s expense. Whoever  completes the procession is the regent; regents surround themselves with bodyguards to prevent  coups during that vulnerable time. " OH my fucking god. what a heist movie. holy shit

GFKDNGDSG GENTRIFIED BY THE SILVER PRINCE

theres a whole subsection for the sewers. this is worldbuilding.

culture... architecture... a dole of black bread and white cheese...

"Weeds signify  persistence and thriving in the Underworld; a dandelion represents passage into Lethe. Fish  symbolize ghosts, while a fishhook means either love or money, depending on who you ask. And  blood — or, indeed, anything crimson — holds many meanings depending on context, including  power, food, artistic fervor, endings, new beginnings, and Creation itself." why was this made specifically to caer to me

"A few places  specialize in stoking negative emotions, luring perverse customers with discordant choirs,  noisome odors, or the like. Several wineshops on Seawall offer bone-dry hardtack and skunked  beer; the Kudzu Bell’s boarding house specializes in stale bread, mildewed cheese, and  vegetables boiled into a sulfurous mass." oh my god

"Some ghosts hoard coins whose psychic residue resonates with their own feelings; money  changers sort obols by emotion for arbitrage." to me this is what exalted is about. this is what no other game has. lets take a wacky fantasy concept and do irl economics about it

:000 mausoleums! places where prayer distills down and bathes ghosts... sort of like a pseudo manse?

....huh! people heard of stygia as a heaven, expected to go there as a ritual afterlife, and now there are spots in stygia for them

collegia! the ultimate in dark academia. ghosts who keep ancient traditions and skills, and are doing quite a lot of politics about it

and the mansions, which are pimeval afterlives of sudden death. these and the collegia alone give stygia such incredible depth already

"In the Underworld’s first days, the Resplendent Mansion stood  foremost among its peers, comprised of a host of Exalted and other  heroic ghosts who’d died in battle against the world’s makers. But  new members slowed to a trickle, then stopped entirely before the  First Age’s end. Today, their ancient seat atop Shining Hill stands all  but empty, inhabited by a few reclusive timeworn ghosts and a host  of guardian spirits and automata." .... so now that primordials and neverborn are out in the world beefing again someone might suddenly take up that seat huh

oh wow i love the transcendent course as a cult. it feels so, ironically, alive. and the DUAL MONARCHS

"The Incarnadine Path was Stygia’s native religion before the Dual Monarchs. Its creed reveres  the River of Blood as the literal and metaphorical lifeblood of Creation and Underworld alike.  Ghosts of the Mansions find a sense of superiority in their ancient ties to the faith, while the  collegia uphold it in opposition to the Transcendent Course. Its stronghold is the rust-red steeple  of the Cruor, where Incarnadine blood-priests sacrifice animals brought at great difficulty from  the living world to anoint the faithful in gore. Since Stygia’s founding, the Cruor’s priests have  been a law unto themselves, offering sanctuary to fugitives; the Signatories show little respect  for these traditions, but citywide rioting the last time the Legion Sanguinary violated Cruor  sanctuary makes them cautious." MORE CULTS. MORE

and now the stygian pact, with thirteen signatories, wich do not correspond to al deathlords! which i thought was fun. skull pirate aikeret! fathom hermit puppet for the underwater eemi!!! ukhala enlightened-in-blood... i am free on thursday... white thyrsus the youth pastor for a cult to a ghost-eating forest, sesim ruseka the bird bitch. god frankly any of these guys would be fun deathlords as well

WOW namtar is fun

ok im gonna cut myself off before dari of the mists... charms one day i will reach you...

[pascalpanic]

Mirdal’ika (Din Djarin x f!Reader)

Summary: Reader takes care of the Razor Crest and the child while Mando is out hunting. When Mando doesn’t return when he’s supposed to, the book-smart reader has to learn some street smarts and help her Mandalorian.

WC: 4.6k

Warnings: violence, cussing, mentions of blood

A/N: Okay, I’m a nerd, a certified nerd as if that wasn’t clear. This is my love letter to the nerds out there, to the ones who had their first kiss a little late, who stayed in and read books rather than partying. I love you, you’re cool. Italics are for emphasis and internal dialogue, but in some places also to show that another language is being spoken. Hopefully that’s clear! Oh, also: mirdal’ika is a word of my own creation. No Mando’a word exists for “nerd” that I could find, so this is my interpretation of the language using my best etymological skills!

mirdala= intelligent, clever -’ika = suffix meaning small or little mirdal’ika = intelligent little one; Mando’a slang meaning nerd.

Growing up, you were the kid who had her nose buried in a book at all times. You rarely interacted with the outside world. While the other children on Tatooine made sandcastles or played games, drawing in the sand, you read encyclopedias and fact books, learning about the other planets in your systems and other cultures. Your fixation at age 12 had been on Mandalorian culture, fascinated by the warriors that were like faraway, mythical knights to your young self. As a child enraptured by fairy tales and stories of intergalactic heroes like Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa, you’d somehow always been enchanted by the bad-boy type, the dark and mysterious man who reluctantly saves the day, more along the lines of Han Solo. Naturally, the fact that Mandalorians never showed their face was mysterious, and you’d admit that you dreamed of being swept away by the Mand’alor and having the privilege of being the sole person to see their face, of being a queen and finding true love. You later moved on to research other cultures, even teaching yourself various galactic languages should you ever get the chance to travel. That didn’t seem likely, growing up on a planet where the only claim to fame was Luke Skywalker’s brief residence a few towns over. Your knowledge of Mandalorian culture was part of what made you so special to Mando, your employer-friend-coworker-roommate-co-parent whose name you had yet to learn. You never asked questions of him. Never asked him to take off his helmet, never asked him what was under it, never asked anything too personal, understood that the helmet could only come off in front of members of his clan. You’d cut him off and finish a sentence when he’d explain something of his customs to you, stunning him with your knowledge. He liked it, and by association he liked you. You had bore much of your life story to him, and he gladly would’ve given you some of his. He had come to like you, to trust you even, but you never asked. For fear you wouldn’t want to hear it, he held back. You even spoke Mando’a, though he didn’t know that. It always brought a smirk to your face as he’d turn his back after calling you some sweet words in his native tongue, thinking you’d be oblivious. It shocked you at first; you didn’t expect such a stoic and silent man to be so openly flirtatious, but after a while it most certainly grew on you. You would tease him equally in another tongue, calling him handsome or dashing in Pak Pak or Bothese. It was fun, the way he’d try to guess what you were saying, usually assuming it meant something negative.

With your vast knowledge of languages, you’d both expected that you would be able to interpret the words of Mando’s adopted son, that his babbling would be easily deciphered into some species’ tongue. Eventually you realized that he wasn’t speaking a language yet, simply regurgitating syllables like any child would. He was a baby, after all. You set out to make it your mission to teach the child languages when Mando was away, and he had begun to identify the meaning of words, even if he couldn’t say them himself. He could identify body parts on himself, you by your name, and Mando by his; well, the name you called him, which you knew wasn’t his real name. Mando had taken you on as a crewmate for the Razor Crest a few months ago now, and you still knew next to nothing about the beskar-clad warrior. He was a forward man, so you assumed he would tell you things when he was ready. That’s about all you knew: he was a man, and he was a Mandalorian. He wanted to tell you everything, especially the fact that he had been enchanted by your intelligence and wit since the first time he met you, stopping on Tatooine for a bounty and encountering you when he asked a fellow villager who the most knowledgeable person around was. The tiny green thing he held was a menace, and you cared for him while the Mandalorian man went and hunted his bounty. The child was hesitant to leave you, getting attached after a quick few days of staying in your hut, and the man had decided you could be valuable. Just before he walked through the door, he turned and offered you a job. You were shy when you accepted, and had nursed a crush the whole time you two had traveled together. You couldn’t believe the situation, just like in those trashy novels you’d read when you were interested in his culture. Now that you lived with him and the tiny green thing, you stayed aboard his ship while he hunted and cared for the kid, cleaned, fixed up the piece of junk, and generally ran the almost-household. It was enjoyable; you liked the man, especially once you came to find his sense of humor similar to your own, and you absolutely adored the child in your care. Your little ragtag crew fell into a rhythm after the first month or so: Mando would leave on a hunt for a few days. While he was gone, you’d play with the baby, feed him and care for him. You washed the blood and dirt from the man’s clothing and the child’s bile from the clothing belonging to you and the baby, taught the child new words, and generally… well, raised him. The baby felt like your child when you two were alone, but when the Mandalorian came home, he was the only thing visible in that child’s round black eyes. It was all about him, sitting in his lap, babbling incoherent words to him, playing with him. Luckily for you, the Mandalorian is on a hunt. You and the child sit in the bed compartment; you lie on the mattress and the child rests in his mesh hammock above the entry. At the last port, you picked up as many books as possible to entertain both you and the child. He loved listening to your voice, and so you happily read aloud to him as you rest together. The Mandalorian should be home tonight, you figured, since he told you that this was a rather easy bounty and that it should take him no more than 3 days. It’s now a couple hours after the third day, but you’re sure it’s fine. The child’s eyes droop closed as you read to him, flawlessly translating the book from the Pak Pak it was written in. The Basic words pour from your mouth, and the little thing gives a gentle yawn before curling up with his favorite blanket and silver ball and passing out. Looking up, you laugh at the sight softly and transition to reading in your head. Not long after the kid falls asleep, you follow. It was unintentional, but reading soothes you, and the perfectly cozy bed that smells like Mando draws you in further and further until sleep washes over your body. You hug one pillow to your chest as you sleep, imagining it was the man’s body you cuddled up against. - Mando is 24 hours late. You’ve been pacing in the ship since you realized it’s officially a day later than he said he’d be back. Dammit, you’re going to find that man. You’re not unaccustomed to violence, having been in scuffles as a child and teen, fighting off Jawas or unsavory men in Tatooine cantinas. You need to track him down and find him. First, you go up to the cockpit and look at the comm watch he gave you. It has a two-way tracking device; one for him to find you, and one for you to find him. Mando has the technology to see where you are built into his vambrace. You, however, have nothing. After searching the cockpit, you find and crack open a tracking fob he used in the past. You open the back of the comm watch, finding the bit with the tracker and wire it to the fob. As you connect two wires, the fob suddenly blinks with light. Laughing at the fact that you made it work, you relax a little. Now you can track the Mandalorian man down. After slipping the fob into a pocket of your pants, you scoot back down the ladder and to the cargo hold’s back wall: Mando’s arsenal. You can do this, you tell yourself, and dare to open Mando’s personal armory built into the wall. You strap a holster to your thigh, adding a vibroblade there. A belt with two guns rests on your hips. An ammo belt drapes across your chest, settling between your breasts and pulling your black tank top tight, the back of the leather sash holding Mando’s backup pulse rifle. You take a look in the mirror of the refresher, and you have to admit that you look badass. Weapons and homemade tracker at the ready, you set out to find him. You leave the baby with a trustworthy woman at the hangar, one who has babysat him before for Mando, then enter the bustling city. - Following the blinking and beeping of the fob, you find your way to the opposite end of the city, to a building located near the outskirts. It’s run down and looks abandoned. It makes perfect sense that someone would hide here. As you approach, the beeping of the fob encourages you; the Mandalorian is definitely here. You disable the sound on the fob and slip it in your pocket, grabbing one of the blasters from your hip. As you approach, the building is silent. The roar of the city is quiet but present, and you slip through an open doorway quietly. You scan the rooms, blaster held in front of you and ready to shoot. You take inventory of the first floor and find nothing. The staircase looks terribly old, and you wince as you take your first step onto it and it makes a noise. Now or never, you tell yourself and quickly run up the steps, knowing the noise can’t be avoided, so you’d better make it quick. You reach the top of the steps, pulling out your other blaster, and find a male Twi’lek standing over  a pile of silver and black on the floor. Mando. He’s most definitely unconscious, maybe even- no, he can’t be dead, you can see his slow breathing and the way it makes his body rise and fall. “Fuck,” you say out loud, and the Twi’lek turns towards you. The man is large, much larger than you. He’s overweight and dressed in combat clothes, his face battered and bloody. Your heart sinks as you realize this man is the bounty Mando was going for. You need to start thinking on your feet, and quickly. The man starts to move toward you and you hold out both blasters. “Easy there, nerra,” you tell him in Twi’leki, calling him ‘brother’ to attempt to put him at ease. It doesn’t have the effect that you hoped. “Why are you here?” he asks back, also in Twi’leki, reaching for his weapon. “Don’t draw,” you threaten and inch closer. He was a bail jumper, Mando had informed you before he left, but not for a petty charge; he had escaped in order to avoid several charges of murder. He was a former bounty hunter, who Mando had encountered once. The idea strikes you. “I’m here for him,” you say and nod to the lump of beskar behind the man on the ground. “There’s a bounty on his head. I… heard whoever turns him in gets to keep the beskar too,” you say, raising an eyebrow as you look at him. “You going for him too?” The Twi’lek man shakes his head. “No. He was coming for me. Thought he could beat me.” You seize this opportunity. “From what you look like, I don’t think anyone could. This one is worth a lot of credits. Enough to run away to a pleasure planet… twice over,” you say, inching closer. Mando makes a soft groan and it breaks your heart as he gains consciousness. He must notice you; he starts to moan out words, but you know he can’t speak or he’ll expose you both. “Silence, Mandalorian,” you say again in Basic, words holding acid. “Twice over… let’s bring him in together. Find some wonderful planet to share that bounty on…” you offer, raising an eyebrow and slowly creeping closer to the man. “What’s your name?” You ask. He tells you his and you tell him yours, then give him a seductive smile. The man’s face falls into a smirk. You put both blasters in your belt once more and his posture relaxes fully. “Sounds wonderful to me, beautiful.” “Wow. For a jaded bounty hunter, you’re more foolish than one could ever believe.” Before the man can process your words, you’ve slung the pulse rifle over your shoulder and pull it into position. You shoot a pulse and it finds its target in his chest. He groans in agony and falls backwards, directly on top of Mando. Wincing for the man beneath the hulking Twi’lek, you grab a blaster, shooting the man in each leg. “Mando, hey, it’s me,” you tell him as you roll the behemoth from on top of him. “I’m here,” you murmur. He starts mumbling back, but it’s in Mando’a. That makes sense, you suppose, that he’s reverting in such a moment of crisis. “How hurt are you?” you ask, beginning to speak Mando’a to him in hopes he’ll understand you better. Mando’s brain works through the fog, hearing your words and recognizing that it’s you. “Real bad,” he groans out, speaking his native tongue. You touch his elbow, unprotected by beskar, and he whines. “No, no,” he whimpers, sounding almost like a child. You sigh. This was going to be harder than you expected. “Fuck, how am I going to get you out of here?” The brain function that the Mandalorian has left is your saving grace. “Speeder bike. Hidden down there. We can get on.” “Yes, but how are we going to get you downstairs?” He doesn’t respond, simply groans in pain. If this was going to work without immense pain on his part, some kind of miracle was going to need to happen. “I’m going to drag you down the stairs as carefully as I can, okay? We’ll let gravity do the work. Do you have a good arm?” “The left one… so clever, so smart, pretty girl,” he breathes out, words rasping. You blush at the words but chuckle. He’s in so much pain there’s no way he can think straight now. “I’ll go get the bike, then we’ll get you down there.” This is the hard part, you think to yourself. First, you run down the steps and search for the speeder bike Mando mentioned. You find it and sigh in relief. It’s a piece of junk, but it should do. You position it at the bottom of the stairs and then run up them again. “Okay, this is going to hurt. Can you roll yourself?” “No, shoulder’s all fucked up,” he mumbles and you groan. “Well, I’ll have to drag you on the good one. Get ready.” Taking his good arm, you begin dragging him towards the steps. He groans and you wince. “I’m so sorry, you’re doing so well,” you tell him as you move him. “Here we go.” Once he’s at the top of the steps, you hold him under his armpits, blushing at how close you are. He’s so strong, even injured, and you smile softly to yourself. You lower the two of you down the stairs with careful movements and manage to hold him long enough to get him seated on the speeder bike. He leans forward onto the handles. “One moment,” you tell him. Running up the stairs once more, you shoot another pulse into the bounty. He gives a dazed nod, clearly not understanding anything through the pain he’s in. You can’t let Mando leave this man behind. You’re sure he’s unconscious, so you repeat the same movements as before but with next to no gentleness. You toss him on the back of the speeder bike, where the gunner would sit, and tie him down with ropes before covering him with a blanket. “Alright, back to the ship as quick as we possibly can,” you inform Mando and get the speeder to a door wide enough to fit it through. Once it works, you hop on between Mando and the handlebar and start it up, moving as quickly as you possibly can. Soon enough, you’re back at the hangar that holds the Razor Crest. You enter the back way, using the speeder bike entrance. You hop off quickly and park it by the Crest. “Stay right there, I’m going to get this asshole into the carbonite,” you tell Mando. His consciousness hasn’t been clear for at least a day. He didn’t even process the fact that you had grabbed the bounty. “What? You got him?” “One of us had to,” you tease, enjoying the fact that the two of you are finally conversing in his native tongue. You’ve always loved Mando’a, the way the words sound rolling off your tongue. You untie the man, still unconscious, and haul him up the ramp of the Crest. You’ve seen Mando work the carbonite freezer once or twice, and you hope you press the right buttons as you force the man onto the slab. “Come on, baby,” you murmur to the machine, hoping it’ll work. With one final button, there’s a hiss and cold air blows from it, freezing him. You sigh in relief. You return to the main hold and pop out a cot for him to lie on. Running back down the ramp, you find the dazed Mandalorian in the exact spot you left him in. “I’m going to carry you into the ship,” you tell him, grunting with effort as you lift his practically deadweight body off of the side and into a standing position. You drag him up and immediately shove him onto the cot. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” you cringe as he moans in pain at the contact with the cot. “One more thing and we’ll get some bacta in you.” The owner of the hangar is waiting for you outside the ship, holding the kid, both confused by the commotion. You very quickly and hurriedly explain to her that everything is fine now, thank her and pay her a generous amount of credits, and rush back onto the ship with the baby. “Keep the speeder!” You shout behind you as you close the ramp. - A full day and a half later, the Mandalorian awakens from a deep slumber with a pounding headache. He sits with a jolt, which only makes the headache worse. He looks around to find that he’s in the Razor Crest, the familiar hum indicating that he’s in hyperspace. The events of the past few days begin to manifest in his memory and he groans, lying back down on the cot. You climb down from the cockpit as you hear him stirring and find him on his side. “Good morning,” you say softly as you sit on the edge of his cot, the kid in your arm. You set the child down and he toddles off elsewhere.  “You were out for a good day and a half,” you tell him and stroke his side softly. “How do you feel?” “Like shit,” he groans, rolling to his back again. He’s hyper aware of your touch, the way your fingers drag down his- oh shit, he’s shirtless, armorless- skin, avoiding the bruises. “You… thank you,” he says, gravelly voice soft. It sinks in that he’s wearing just a pair of shorts and his helmet. You must’ve undressed him, cleaned and bandaged his wounds. His breath catches in his throat. You nod and stroke his good arm. “Of course. That’s why you brought me on, isn’t it?” you tease. He chuckles, but it’s clear that takes effort. “Really, thank you. And you got the bounty too! Shit, mesh’la, I-” he says as he starts to sit, but you push him back down with a hand to his chest, caressing the side of his beskar helmet. “Nayc, stay down,” you tell him, chuckling softly. “Rest. I’ll bring you some water and go back up to the cockpit so you can take off the helmet,” you say with a soft smile, standing and going to where you keep the food and water bottles. As you move, he mulls over the events that led him here. He got knocked down and beat by the man that was supposed to be his bounty. That never happened. You came to rescue him and- wait. You just told him no, nayc, in Mando’a. In fact, you were speaking Mando’a to him the whole time you rescued him, reassuring him and directing him in his native tongue, which he had no idea you spoke until just now. You return with a nutrient bar and water bottle, setting them next to his side on the cot. “I’ll head back up-” you start to say, but he stops you by grabbing his wrist. “You speak Mando’a,” he says simply, looking up at you with wonder behind his mask. “Yeah,” you chuckle and admit, face flushing with warmth. His is equally heating beneath the beskar. He sits up slightly but instead you come to his level, sitting on the edge of the cot and pushing him down with a firm palm to his chest. He chuckles softly. “So you’ve understood me every time I’ve called you beautiful,” he says, a tinge of shyness in his modulated voice. Nodding, you tuck a stray hair back from your face. “I… yes, I have,” you nod, giving him an awkward smile. “I hear you talk in Mando'a in your sleep too, sometimes.” Even his chest is flushing with warmth now. You look away, at a corner of the ship “You talk about your life. People from your past.” The silence hangs between the two of you, your hand still resting in the center of his chest. You slowly drag it to his good shoulder, and down his arm. He clasps your hand in his when it reaches his fingertips. “Have you heard the name Din?” He asks in his native tongue, and you shake your head softly, truthfully. It never came out. “That’s… my name. Din, Din Djarin,” he admits to you, hand squeezing yours softly. You gasp softly, not expecting that information from him. A smile settles on your face after a moment. “Well then. Hello, Din.” You lean down and press your forehead to where his lies beneath the metal. A keldabe kiss, you know, the most intimate gesture a Mandalorian can do. It truly melts his heart, the organ pumping frantically in his chest. “Hello to you too, gorgeous. Wait,” he stops and pushes your face from his, gently. He returns to speaking Basic with a chuckle. “How many languages do you speak?” You look upwards, mentally counting. “Uh. 8 and a half. I’m still not finished with Ubese,” you say and turn back to face him, a shy smile gracing your face. “Wow. You’re a mirdal’ika,” he tells you, the smile evident in his voice even though you can’t see it through the mask. Separately, the syllables make sense. You understand the direct translation, but it’s odd, and you cock your head to the side as you look down at the Mandalorian- no, Din. “Little clever one?” You ask, unsure if you heard him correctly. “Yes, well, that’s the direct translation. It’s really more of a slang term.” “For?” “In Basic… I believe the equivalent would be… nerd.” “Din!” You squeal and laugh, smacking his good shoulder lightly with a backhand. “Excuse me, that’s rude,” you chuckle, the smile growing even wider on your face as you look down at him. He doesn’t respond for a moment and you give a soft sigh. “Well, you need to drink that water. I’ll head back up to the cockpit,” you tell him, really meaning to leave this time, the smile falling. Once again, as you stand and try to move, he grabs your arm. “I… I think I’m going to need help with that,” he admits, almost ashamed. “Please. Stay.” You nod, but then realize what it implicates. “No, Din,” you sigh, shaking your head. “I can’t do that to you, you and that helmet, it’s… it’s your everything, I couldn’t possibly-” “Please, cyare,” he asks in his native tongue again, and your heart melts. “I want you to see me. I need you to see me.” Heart pounding, you take a beat before you respond with a nod. You sit down once more, hands slowly tracing up his sides, then his chest and up to the base of his helmet. “You’re sure. Positive,” you ask. “Of course I am.” With a nod, you allow him to bring his hand to the side to unlatch the lock. Once it releases, he lifts his head just above the pillow and you slide off his helmet, catching the back of his head with one hand and easing it back down to the pillow. You make sure the helmet rests on the floor before you finally look at him. He’s gorgeous, truly. His tanned skin, which you saw when cleaning his wounds, is covered with dark stubble and a mustache on the lower half of his face, broken by two plush lips. Your fingertips trace his jawline as you take in his softly hooked nose, his dark eyebrows, his dark and messy hair, but most importantly, his eyes. His eyes are a beautiful chocolate brown, set gently into his face and looking at you like you’re a shimmering supernova, no, something even more beautiful. For a moment, you get caught up staring at him. “You’re absolutely beautiful, Din,” you mumble in Mando’a. He just gives a soft smile and murmurs his thanks. After you finish staring, you shake your head quickly. “Sorry, the water,” you chuckle nervously, turning to grab it from your other side. Din’s hand catches the side of your face. “The water is a secondary need,” he says softly in Mando’a, turning your face back to his. “I took this off for something else.” His eyes hold a question as he looks up at you. You bite your lip for a moment before breaking into a smile and nodding. The Mandalorian pulls your face down to his, and, ever so gently, your lips finally meet, real and warm and absolutely delicious. You sigh softly, putting a hand on the side of his face too. His lips are softer than you’d expected, while yours are just as beautiful as he dreamed about at night. You both continue for a moment, his hand drifting to your neck, completely lost in each other. A moment later, you pull back and giggle. “I have to admit something, Din,” you tell him and lovingly stroke the side of his face. “It better not be that you’re secretly engaged,” he asks teasingly, a soft smile on his face and raising an eyebrow at you. “No,” you laugh and run your hand through his curls, carding your fingers between the surprisingly soft locks. “That…” you gulp and look away before looking back at him. “Was my first kiss,” you admit and bite down on your bottom lip. He laughs softly but there’s love in his eyes. “A girl as beautiful as you never dated when you were younger? Never went out and flirted with her classmates?” You shake your head. “I was generally too busy at home, reading or teaching myself the language of the man who’d eventually be my first kiss.” You both laugh at that and you grin. His hand rests on the side of your face, gently sweeping his thumb across the skin beneath his fingers. “Of course you were. My little mirdal’ika,” he laughs, bringing your face to his to kiss you once more.

[reaction2whatever]

Agents of SHIELD S3E01-S3E03 reaction

welcome welcome to my ramble on season 3 lol

I hope Simmons is alright

I hope the crystals in the ocean by last season aren't giving the team too much trouble!

Alright imma start now

Agents of SHIELD S3E01

-ahhh so the fish oil can really make normal people transition huh

-Oh my fucking god just how handsome and cool was that entrance of Skye?!

-She just blew away two guys and a car like it's nothing

-She also cut her hair??

-Her gauntlets look cool and ugghh I am loving the whole superhero look

-mmm why did she introduce herself as Daisy?

-She's changed her name?

-Good to see Mack didn't actually quit

-wtf? when did shield develop/invent a flying containment thingy

-where is this thing flying towards??

-ohhhh so this is the new bus?

-who are these guys trying to kill the new inhuman guy? Are they government or something?

-and Skye introduced herself as Daisy again so she really changed her name huh

-I guess it's kinda fitting. She's finally got closure with her family and found her real name

-I always wondered why she named herself Skye tho. Are we gonna get an explanation one day?

-I would really love a flashback to her time as a teenager or a kid or something, get her background story

-no matter what she looks stunning as ever

-I'd say it's the short hair that's making her gorgeous but she'd look good in any haircut tbh

-Bobbi!!!! It's good to see you! she's recovered from the torture of Ward!! yessss!!

-I see that they've built a new prison for inhumans lol

-With the record of Skye and prison rooms of shield I'd say at one point she's gonna end up in here just like in season 1 and 2 she ended up in shield prison room lol

-and Bobbi is calling her Daisy now

-? what?? what's going on with Hunter and Bobbi again???

-they literally went to hell and back SURELY they'll just be in love now why are they not talking YET AGAIN ugghh these two idiots

-annnd Coulson is very much me when adjusting the transition from Skye to Daisy lol imma need to adjust to the new name huh

-lolol "She's the muscle" Mack

-When did Mack and Daisy become partners?

-I love the fact that she's the one who helps inhumans like what her mom used to do

-I feel bad for this guy, his life just got turned upside down

-whatever happens, just how hot is Daisy in a tank top

-and she indeed is the muscle. She takes down this guy so easily lol

-She's so powerful I love her

-so liquid rock is called a monolith?

-Of course Fitz will try to save Simmons

-aww Bobbi doing Simmons' old job

-yes yes I'm still shipping Bobbi with Simmons lol

-So Fitz run away from shield duties to save Simmons?

-very in character

-Look at Fitz. tricking a whole lot of mob

-I'm proud of my boi

-Daisy's tanktop ma'am ugghhhh that is so distracting

-she's so hot

-Coulson's approaching this new government woman with only Hunter mmmm

-That's a risky move but he's smarter than that

-Lincoln is a whole proper doctor now? he's pretty hot in doctor suits

-This Rosaline person is the one hunting inhumans this season?

-wtf? what the hell is that thing???? It's a whole monster???

-That thing looks HUGE

-This monster thing is targeting inhumans? It just specifically asked where are the inhumans

-Mack shot him so many times and still that thing isn't dead?

-Coulson escaped lol they handcuffed a guy without a hand I knew this was coming. So predictable

-Skye+Lincoln barely make the monster guy flinch???

-What is this thing????

-oh right it's Daisy now

-I keep on typing Skye ughhh Gotta get used to it

-are Bobbi and Hunter gonna get married again or what

-I'm rooting for Hunter to kill Ward

-After what Ward did to Bobbi it's normal for them to want to have revenge. I will be rooting for them

-It's so sad to see Fitz's trouble just lead to one word "death"

-Poor Fitz

-He's not ready to give up on Jemma

-He was so close to a date with her. awww man. life is so cruel

-oh fuck no

-Fitz. Please don't do anything stupid come on now

-Never have I ever thought I'd get emotional watching a man screaming at a rock

-That was top notch acting right there good job Fitz's actor

-Simmons!!!! So glad to see she's still alive!!!! but that... doesn't look like earth

-Where is May in this episode? Is she really never coming back????

Agents of SHIELD S3E02

-what do they mean no one ever returns from the rock? Simmons has got to return right?

-Daisy's right, the team's active agents seem to be down to only Daisy and Mack?

-Bobbi is in rehab, Simmons is missing, Fitz is saving Simmons, May is gone, Hunter is going after Ward, Coulson's lost a hand

-shield is not doing so good these days.

-That makes the partner thing between Mack and Daisy more reasonable lol

-So season 3 starts months after season 2 and Fitz has been trying to save Simmons for months

-poor FitzSimmons ughh

-Seeing Bobbi and Hunter kiss makes me happy lol

-Ward. I can't say I miss him, but he makes a good villain of a story

-ahhh i remember this Asgardian dude

-He's an interesting character

-"he did it" lolol Asgardian dude has personality

-Daisy missing May awwww sooo cute

-ahhh MAY!!!!!! i miss you!! come back to the team!

-Asgardian dude proving himself to be useful! Finally, a clue to save Simmons!

-the whole bag of rats just made me jump in front of my screen holy fuck

-Yep, it is confirmed, Ward still knows how to get under my skin god damn it

-what does Ward even want anyways What's his bad guy motives this time around

-Fitz just walked into a death door without even thinking/hesitating

-what a man

-I love Fitz

-Had to agree with Skye here. The new Inhumans could turn any moment, the ATCU thing is dangerous too and this new huge monster comes out of nowhere

-annnd Skye and Mack are the only two in the field dealing with them?

-It's a LOT for two people

-Time for May to be back!

-yes! yes to May's ex husband! I love the thought of Skye as a leader!

-she's thinking like a superhero this season because she's trying to use her power to do good. I love that

-"neighborhood watch" lmao Hunter is so hilarious

-If May pair up with Hunter that'd be an interesting duo

-It's miracle how this equipment from a few hundreds of years ago still works lol

-It's almost impossible

-This thing really can control the stone??

-and this thing just made Skye pass out?????

-ahhh fuck I made the same mistake as Coulson ugghh

-It's Daisy

-damn it I'm so bad with names

-I'm loving May's time with her dad

-Gives layer to her character

-ahhhh so the frequencies control the monolith!

-Daisy's power is so versatile ahhh I love it

-She's willing to risk her life to try to open the portal for Simmons

-I hope there will be some Simmons Daisy friendship scene once they get Simmons back

-I get so oddly excited whenever Daisy uses her superpower ahhhhhh

-Did Fitz just jump through the portal?

-What the fuck a warning would be nice

-holy hell I get so nervous

-I feel like there is no way they can rescue Jemma this early in the season

-But it was heroic of Fitz and Daisy to try

-I'm rooting for Daisy to hold on soooo hard

-just a little longer DAISY!!! you can do it!!!!

-I cannot believe my eyes they actually rescued Simmons????

-In episode 2 of the season????

-LOL thank you writers for not making me wait for this drama to be dragged out

-This show has balls

-I'm so happy Simmons is back

-So May is helping Hunter right? ahh she is so pretty

-poor Simmons she's traumatized

-the way she sleeps on Fitz's leg that's so cute awww

Agents of SHIELD S3E03

-Lincoln's power is pretty cool but why are they hunting him? He didn't do anything? He was just a doctor and then a monster attacked him? what did he do?

-Poor Simmons I hope she gets better

-Daisy is soooo hot help

-she is wearing a lot of tank tops this season and I'm loving it

-Never thought I'd see punk!May. she so hot

-I wonder what happened to Simmons on that other planet?

-knowing this show it is probably gonna answer my questions in a later episode? I hope?

-FitzSimmons walking together is so cute lol

-I never get tired of hearing Bobbi and Hunter telling each other to not die

-punk!May in a tank top is sooo hot oh wow

-Mmmm so Lincoln used to have a drinking problem? He'd struggled with addiction?

-yes!!!! Daisy and Simmons scene!!!

-"You can call me whatever you want"

-yes yes I still ship them together uggh

-It's good to see Daisy and Simmons have a chat after everything

-I feel so bad for Lincoln his only friend turned on him

-and he has a heart attack??????

-poor Lincoln he never wanted this. it's not his fault. not really

-I wish the scene between Daisy and Simmons is longer but it was still sweet

-Lincoln calls saying "I need help" lol that's such a classical hero's love interest thing to do

-I feel like Bobbi is a FitzSimmons shipper lol She was helping Simmons last season and now she's helping Fitz

-Sorry to say this lol I am not impressed by half-naked Hunter

-lol these guys gonna die for sure. flirting with MAY out of all people lmaooo I legit fear for their lives

-I love this fights scene so much! kick ass May is so cool and so hot! Ma'am I'm glad you are back

-AND this line is making me ridiculously happy: "a tiny, little asian woman kicked your ass"

-ughhh fuck yeah I love May

-why is Hunter so tiny without clothes omfg

-ahhh Coulson you can't just hand over Lincoln because of a picture of Daisy

-I mean I understand him but uggghh

-I love this dialogue between Daisy and Lincoln

-I feel like their position sort of reversed compared to last season.

-Last season Lincoln helped Daisy with her powers and helped her accept herself and convinced her she's not the monster. This season seems like it's Daisy who is helping Lincoln accept himself and convince him he is not a monster.

-I feel like Lincoln and Daisy have some shared trauma

-They are definitely gonna get together this season lol

-holy fuck they are kissing now?????

-lmao I thought the writer's gonna make this pairing later in the season and bam the next minute they be kissing

-But mmm idk I feel like there are gaps in between two seasons that are not explained well

-From what I've gathered so far. Between the two seasons, there are some months where Lincoln became a doctor and Daisy became a leader for a special task force.

-Lincoln wanted nothing to do with Daisy and shield two episodes ago and now they are kissing?

-I mean it was pretty quick mmm but I guess they have some romantic foundation in season 2

-Everything moves SO fast in this damn show

-Every time I thought it's gonna be a thing that drags on and on and on and it turns out to be not a long boring drama I get a bit happier

-I don't think Daisy has kissed anyone in season 2

-the trauma of kissing Ward lolol

-Lincoln is at least a massive upgrade

-I really like how it was Daisy who closed the gap between them and kissed Lincoln. She was the one who put a hand on his neck too lol What a queen

-Coulson really turned over Lincoln when they just had their first kiss???

-ahhh good job Lincoln lol his power is enough to knock down everybody

-How did Coulson make the ATCU stand down? what did he offer her?

-I finally get the FitzSimmons romantic dinner but this is not how I wanted things to go and now it's sad

-Fitz is (understandably) eager for everything to be romantic/back to normal

-But I don't think this is a good move for Simmons' sake

-She's obviously dealing with trauma

-awww man the way Simmons is crying I feel so bad for her

-She's been through a lot and she just started to heal. I don't think she has what it takes to get involved in a romantic situation with anyone. sometimes a person is just that emotionally drained.

-She needs time to process and deal with trauma before diving into a relationship

-so I'm very glad the writers didn't make Simmons just happily date Fitz like right after getting rescued

-This keeps things real and keeps Simmons human

-WHAT????

-what is Coulson thinking?? He is working with this ATCU???

-Mack kept what he heard on comms private

-I love this scene of Daisy playing video game with Mack

-Mack is more likable this season

-what??? Simmons was so traumatized by this other planet but she still wants to go back???

-Now I have questions

[thenorthernrecords]

One look

It was quiet in Katy’s newly built home, which was located not far from her parents’ home. It was cloudy that particular late afternoon. Katy had opened the window’s wooden shutters to let the cool breeze in. Her mother Fay was out in some business, while her father and future husband Simon went hunting together. Ben was outside chopping wood, and Katy had just woken up from an afternoon nap.  

Her days had grown peaceful again once her parents and her brother returned from their missions in Snow Mystic. She and her father had been concerned about Marcus Gazer but to their relief, both Ben and her mother reported that they had little to no interaction with the man-dragon. News that both Slania and Carolina had returned safely also pleased Katy greatly, and she made plans to perhaps visit them once they were both settled back in their homes.

Katy soon heard the front door open, and soon, Ben’s voice.

“Katy! Can you come down real quick? We’ve got company.” Ben called from downstairs.

Company? Katy frowned, wondering who it could be. She had recieved no letter from anyone intending to visit her or Simon. She made sure she looked somewhat presentable before she exited her room and went downstairs.

Ben stood by the stairs and before she could ask who it was, she saw David first walk through the front door. Katy smiled contently and stepped towards him to greet him.

“David! This is a lovely surprise...” She told him as she embraced him. David was one of her dearest friends, and he travelled often, so his visits were always welcomed.

“Ah, that remains to be seen...” David said jokingly as he hugged her in return.

David always joked around, but this time, there was some stress that was present. Katy took a step back as she recalled their last encounter, where he revealed that his brother was dead, and that he needed to go and inform his family.

“...How is your mother and sister?” She asked quietly, giving him a sympathetic look.

“They were devastated by this loss,” David replied lowly, his expression becoming somber. “Especially my mother... But, my mother’s pregnant, so there’s that.”

“Oh, really? I know the timing must be difficult, but I’m happy to hear that.” Katy told him sincerely, putting a hand on his arm.

“Thank you. Uh, I came with a few other visitors, if you don’t mind.” David told her uneasily, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh?” Katy was a bit surprised, as David didn’t usually bring anyone when he visited.

Ben then walked to her side as David turned around and called out to someone outside. He looked uneasy too, which confused Katy. Something was going on...

Before she could ask, two people stepped inside. The first person to step inside was a copper-skinned, black haired woman who nodded towards her as soon as she saw her. Katy politely returned the nod with one of her own, but noticed that the woman also looked nervous.

“David, what’s going...” Katy began to ask, but trailed off as soon another person came through the door.

At first glance, the man who entered didn’t look familar. But once he turned towards her, she saw a look in his eyes, a look that was mixed with guilt and happiness. It was a look she had seen before, many decades ago...

Her heart began to beat hard within her chest. Her whole body tensed up. Her breathing became more shallow. 

She stared at him as he looked at her in return. Although her mind still couldn’t put a name to his face, or rather, didn’t want to, she still couldn’t deny:

She knew this man.

@elreinodeparaiso​​