#the more I felt that it belongs to a 4 star unit

[rubywolf0201]

Ok so ever since the final vote has me superimposing On the Fall of An Aeon to S5 it makes me want to build Dan Heng IL so much so that I pawned off Yanqing’s Relics onto him.

(Also I dropped Yanqing the moment I found out that he is not a good unit to build RIP)

[badbatchsprincess]

Heated - pt.2

Pt.1 ~ Pt.2 ~ Pt.3 ~ Pt.4 ~ Pt.5 ~ Pt.6 ~ Pt.7 ~ Pt.8 ~ Pt.9 ~ Pt.10 ~Pt.11 ~ Pt.12 ~ Pt.13 ~ Pt.14 ~ Pt.15 ~ Pt.16 ~ Pt.17 ~ Pt.18 ~ Pt.19 ~ Pt.20 ~ Pt.21 ~ Pt.22 ~ Pt.23 ~ Pt.24 ~ Pt.25

Masterlist

Summary: This is an ABO Bad batch!Poly x Omega Reader smut with a plot. This takes place as an AU before order 66. Y/N previously served under the 501st before being transferred to Special Forces 99. This is her adventure with these rowdy Alphas in a quickly changing universe.

THIS IS AN ABO AU ABOUT THE BAD BATCH (NO CANON OMEGA!) Due to the unfortunate situation of her name being Omega… Omega the child from the canon series is not going to be apart of this fanfic/porn with a plot. I feel obligated to put this warning in because it makes my skin crawl thinking anyone could make that mistake. 

Warnings! Non-canon violence, not sure if this counts as pollen trope but hunter is a little feral, knife violence, blood, gore, substance abuse, hinting at but not committed non-con

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

You were barking out orders the moment your feet hit the tarmac. Droids scattered everywhere, scrambling to gather all the supplies you needed for immediate deployment. Realizing you were nearly out of everything (you didn’t know it was possible for five men to go through so much bacta gel), you knew you had to restock. Working with a special forces unit, you knew no one was going to question or stop you. You rested a hand on your hip while scrolling through the last of your checklist on the datapad.

“Pip!” Tech’s voice rang out across the filling tarmac. “I've got your things!” He strutted up to you, holding your duffle bag with all your belongings.

“Thanks, Tech,” you smiled and took it from him before unzipping it to fill it with more supplies.

“I tried my hardest to find that face cream you like, but the labels were very confusing, so I just put both of them in there,” he rattled on, clearly distressed he couldn’t decipher them. You giggled, “It’s alright, Tech. Thank you.” He visibly calmed, knowing he hadn’t failed you.

“Where are we going?” you asked, shoving more feminine products into your bag from the surplus bins.

He pushed up his goggles, looking at his datapad. “I believe we're heading to a star system called the Crait system in the Outer Rim Territories. It’s a mining planet. Hunter didn’t say what the mission objective is.”

You hummed and zipped up your bag before slinging it over your shoulder.

“So much for shore leave, huh?” you joked.

He just huffed and followed you out of the rows of medical surplus supplies.

“I wanted to apologize for earlier,” he sounded uncomfortable. You knew expressing his feelings was difficult for Tech.

“It’s alright, Tech,” you felt your cheeks heat up.

“No, I mean I just didn’t understand what was so embarrassing about mentioning Commander Wolffe’s obvious interest in you,” he rattled on, “But after discussing the implications with Hunter and the others, I think now I understand why that was making you uncomfortable.”

You just stood there, chewing on your lip, praying he’d be done soon.

“Though I understand it to be factual that an alpha male would find you attractive. You are, in fact, a prestigious example of an omega female, and judging by the fact that all of our implants are due for replacement, the urge to mate grows stronger by the day, especially in the presence of such an omega.”

You waved your hands, “Okay. Okay!” You forced out a chuckle, “I accept your apology. But please stop making me think about the Commander.”

He quirked his head, scenting your discomfort.

You just sighed and linked your arm with his while making your way back to the Marauder. He was unsure what to do with this sudden physical contact. He swallowed thickly, feeling his heart race.

"It wasn't just about Wolffe," you whispered in his ear, hoping Hunter wouldn't hear, "I was also embarrassed because talking about my sex life in front of my commanding officer is very awkward."

"Ahh, I see," he nodded, understanding.

"You want things to remain professional," he added.

You nodded and patted his arm, "Exactly."

"That makes sense," he concluded.

You physically relaxed, knowing he finally understood. For someone so intelligent, sometimes the point hits him right in the face before he sees it, and even then… It made you laugh, especially when he didn't understand some of Crosshair's innuendos or dirty jokes.

When you finally approached the Marauder with your parade of droids behind you carrying your supplies, Echo waved his scomp arm at you two before you broke away from Tech to finish up your job. Wrecker popped his head outside, asking if you needed help carrying everything inside, which you gladly took him up on his offer.

"I gotta go change!" you announced, tossing your bag back into your bunk before fishing out a fresh uniform. You stalked to the back of the ship, sliding open the fresher door. You locked it behind you and began to strip. Pulling off your civilian clothing, you folded it neatly before shimmying into the medic uniform. The white tunic just ended past your bum and secured nicely with a belt around your waist. You then slid on the white leggings and black combat field boots on top. You laced them tightly before standing. You looked at yourself in the mirror, giving yourself a once-over before leaving the fresher.

The others were just finishing up the final refueling when you left the fresher. You wished you could have washed away the remaining alpha stench, but such luxuries were forgotten when you received the orders to leave again.

Brushing past Crosshair on the way out, you slid past him, making your way to the storage bins. Wrecker had dropped off your restock, and you made haste putting everything in its correct location before stowing and locking the compartments. You also took the time to restock your personal pouch along with the field bag that everyone seemed to use.

"Everything set to go?" Hunter asked as he settled into his seat behind Tech's Pilot chair.

Tech confirmed, "We can begin the crosscheck now."

Hunter nodded to Echo, who made sure all of the airlocks were functioning and the life support was in optimal health. You clambered back to your jump seat and buckled in.

Before you knew it, the Marauder was up in the air, climbing altitude quickly before passing through the atmosphere and reaching cruising speeds. Crosshair returned to the main cabin with firepuncher in hand, along with his cleaning kit. He sat down at the table and began taking his precious rifle apart. 

You unbuckled from your seat and slumped down slightly getting comfortable.

”So, what are we doing now?" Echo asked, peering up from the copilot's seat.

Hunter stepped forward, pressing the cylinder drive into the ship's console. In front of you all, a holomap of the Crait system appeared. Hunter zoomed in on the planet the system was named after and specifically honed in on a particular part of the glowing orb.

"Apparently, we're to investigate a missing research party." He zoomed in on one of the mountain ranges on the stark planet. "They disappeared two rotations ago."

"What were they doing on Crait?" Tech asked.

"That was classified," Hunter groused. "It probably had to do with mineral deposits. That seems to be the only thing of value in this system.”

You stared at the projection of the planet, feeling your stomach churn a bit. Something didn’t seem right; it wasn’t common to hear about research parties going missing. Commando groups like your own, sure, it was part of the job, but scientists? There must be more to this, clearly. The Jedi deemed it classified. You shook your head. General Skywalker would have never settled for such little information.

"And we’re just supposed to do what exactly?" Crosshair raised a brow. "Look for a bunch of lab rats?"

"They wouldn’t send us if it was just looking for scientists," Echo crossed his arms. "They’re not telling us for a reason."

Hunter nodded in agreement. "We’ll be there at 0700 hours. Prepare for the extreme. We have no idea what we’re walking into. Get some rest. We’re going to need it." Hunter walked over to the extra weaponry cabinet and grabbed a pistol.

He walked over to you and held it out to you, "I know!"

You raised a brow.

"I know you don’t like blasters," he sighed and held up a handful of leather straps. "But I don’t know what’s out there."

"Does she even know how to use one of those?" Crosshair paused cleaning fire puncher.

For once, you agreed with the sniper. "Sarge, I’ve never received training. I’m much better with my injectors and bandages."

"For me?" He pleaded with you. You could see how worried he was. "Please."

You sighed and relented. He knelt down, straightening out the leathers before holding them open for you to step into. He pulled them up until they were snug around your thigh. He looped the top strap into your uniform belt and settled the blaster into the holster.

"Aren’t you just going to tell me to stay on the ship anyway?" You reasoned.

"Yes," he retorted, "but if something happens, I don’t want you totally helpless."

"What are you expecting to even happen out there?" You were getting worried now.

He stood up and put a hand on your shoulder, trying to calm you. "I’ve heard stories about the Crait system. We all did when we were trainees." He let go of you. You looked at your shoulder briefly; this was the most the Sergeant had ever touched you. "I’m hoping they’re just stories. But I would never forgive myself if something happened to our own."

You just nodded and decided to leave it there. You were in no mood for ghost stories. You just looked at Crosshair who shook his head skeptically before returning to his work.

You decided to let them come up with their plans while you went to sleep while you still could. Kicking off your boots, you settled into your freshly cleaned bunk. Gonky waddled past leaving you in relative silence. The blaster on your hip felt heavy and cold. You sighed, knowing Hunter was just being a good Sergeant and an Alpha. He was a protective one; you realized that was in his nature.

Taking a deep breath, you tried your best to relax into the cot, pulling your blanket up over you, leaning into the rumble of hyperspace. Feeling yourself doze off, you gave in and allowed yourself to sleep.

You must have been out for a while because when you woke, the boys were just finishing up their meals. You could smell it from the bunks. You sat up, rubbing your eyes, smearing makeup everywhere, but you didn’t care. You stretched and checked your data pad for the time. You only had about an hour and a half before reaching Crait. You stood up and in your socks, you scooted out of the bunks into the main cabin and plopped down at the table, still exhausted.

“Do you guys ever sleep?” You mumbled, pulling out the ready-made ration pack and placing it into the heating unit.

“Significantly less than natural-born humans,” Tech informed. “It’s part of our design to require less sleep.”

“Yeah but just because you require less doesn’t mean you shouldn’t.” You heard the ding and removed your pouch of food. “Sleep is nice.”

“That is true,” Tech replied.

Echo pushed his cup of caff in your direction with a smile. You gladly took it and shared a sip or two while you dug into your food.

Crosshair and Wrecker understood what you were saying. The two were slumped up against the sidewalls of the ship, having fallen asleep at some point doing whatever they were doing. Crosshair clutched firepuncher to his chest like a baby. You snickered. It was a little concerning how much he loved that thing.

“So, Y/N?” Tech began while scrolling through something interesting on his data pad.

“Yeah, Tech?” You chewed a mouthful. The beans and rice were delicious. This was your favorite ready-made in the supply kit.

“When was the last time you had a heat?”

You spit out your food and choked on the remaining bits still in your throat.

“Oh my maker.” Echo reached forwards, handing you a napkin and a cup of water.

That woke up the boys. Crosshair growled with displease.

“What the hell, Tech?” You screeched, sputtering to catch your breath.

He looked confused. “What? I didn’t mention the Commander nor is this pertaining to our earlier conversation about Hunter.”

Oh my maker. You could kill him.

“What about Hunter?” The Sargent poked his head out from the fresher.

“Nothing. You are not relevant to this question,” Tech replied, turning to you like nothing was wrong with asking a question like that.

“Why the hell do you want to know that?” You whisper-yelled.

“Well, I was thinking. You got your replacement suppressor implant earlier today and it made me think about how it’s recommended that an Omega has one breakthrough heat every six months per standard solar rotation time. And well, you’ve been with us for six months now. It would be putting you right in that window and I thought I should ask since none of us were able to get our replacement implants on such short notice.”

You blanched.

“First of all, I’m actually going on about two years without having a heat.” You then pointed a finger up in the air. “Second… I beg your finest pardon?”

“Pardon granted,” he nodded. “We have not received our replacement-”

“I heard you,” you snipped. Whirling around, you faced all the boys in the cabin now.

“Was no one going to tell me this?” You looked around at all of them. “I leave you alone one time. ONE time! And everything goes to shit? I’m literally trapped here with five Alphas and no one said anything?! For maker knows how long?!”

Wrecker looked scared. He’d never seen you yell, and he’s never smelled such sour distress rolling off of you in waves before. He fought every nerve in his body to scoop you up and squeeze you.

“It was a mistake, ad’ika.” Hunter stepped forwards.

“No! No. Don’t ad’ika me.” Your accent was terrible. You didn’t even know what it meant.

“No need for distress,” Tech cleared his throat. “We were given these.” He holds up a pill bottle. They all four of them pulled it out of their various pockets. “Suppressors.”

“We were scheduled for our implants in two rotations, this is all they could give us on such short notice.” Hunter used his soft voice with you, trying to give you some kind of solace.

“And how many did they give you?” You crossed your arms.

“Enough for three cycles,” Echo replied, putting the bottle away.

“You’ll be okay,” Hunter assured, “We all will be fine.”

You sighed and shook your head, grabbing your pouch of beans and your spork. “The second we get back to Coruscant I want you all in that medical bay or I swear to the maker I’ll cut you open and do it myself.”

Echo cringed.

“Sorry.” You waved at him. You knew he and Wrecker didn’t particularly like medical stuff. You also knew Wrecker tends to act like a raging bantha when there's any kind of injectables nearby.

“Did you say you were going on two years-” Tech chirped.

“Oh my maker, Tech! I’m banning you from talking about any of my medical history!” You wailed.

Crosshair chuckled from his seat, and you spun around to glare at him.

“But I-”

“No!” You pointed your spork at Tech. “You’re officially forbidden.”

You huffed and shoved a big spoonful of food into your mouth, determined to finish it before you touch down. You cannot believe that this is how your day has gone so far. From almost going home with Wolffe to now discussing your lack of anything in front of your team… and your Sergeant. You could have imploded. Luckily the others gave you some mercy and returned back to their tasks, letting you eat in silence.

But now that Tech had mentioned it, you started thinking about the boys. They too were recommended six-month ruts for performance reasons, and you knew that out of all of them, Crosshair was the only one, that you were aware of, had partaken. Actually, every time you’re on shore leave, he disappears for a week, coming back smelling like a different female. The others, however, you weren’t entirely sure, unless they were far better at hiding it.

You only had confirmation because Cross actually needed bacta for his back one time. She had clawed her way through his milky skin like a feral nexu. He had asked for help, surprisingly, one random morning.

“We’re on approach.” Echo spun around in the copilot seat, waiting for Tech to take his spot in docking the vessel.

You scrambled to chuck your wrapper in the trash and wash off your spork before putting it back in the drawer. The others got ready for descent, and you folded your legs up, watching the white planet come into view. The more you passed through the clouds, the more you realized it was a glittery white barren planet.

Crait.

Home to absolutely… nothing.

Upon descent, Tech brought the Marauder down on a flat plateau nestled next to a pretty large hillside. From your view through the cockpit, there was literally not a soul out there. No plants, no animals. It was a little jarring. What was Hunter so bent out of shape over?

Once Echo released the door to the Marauder, you were instantly hit with a bit of cool air. The air, however, had a strange scent to it.

Hunter immediately cringed, bringing his arm up to block his nose.

“It’s salt.” He coughed out struggling to adjust.

“Salt?” Wrecker stood up, pushing Tech out of the way before trotting down the steps. Upon putting his boot on the ground, there was a light crunch sound. He scrapped his boot, revealing a deep crimson rock underneath. What an odd planet.

“What are your orders, Sarge?” You asked, standing up to stretch.

He slid his helmet into place, relieved to have the air filters. “Echo and Y/N stay on board in case we need backup… or a quick pick up. The rest of you are with me. Let’s make this fast I want to get out of here as quick as possible.”

“I didn’t see anyone at the coordinate point when we landed. I think we should start there and hopefully Hunter can track them down.” Tech slid his helmet on. Crosshair and Wrecker were quick to suit up and follow them down the steps outside.

“Echo, can you close the door? It smells.” You asked politely. He was happy to oblige and seal the door, watching the four brothers stalk their way towards the coordinate points.

You stretched out in Tech’s chair, spinning around before settling on Echo.

He side-eyed you nervously.

“So…” You raised a brow. “You got any good gossip for me, domino?”

He sighed, knowing where this was going… He spun to face you and put his boots up on your armrest. “Naturally.”

You smiled wickedly.

~~~

"This has to be the weirdest planet I’ve ever been to," Wrecker couldn’t help but kick the salt around, watching the red appear.

“This planet is really messing with my head," Hunter said, bending down to place his hand on the surface. Instead of being able to single out little electro currents, he could feel the entire planet pulsing. It seemed to be drowning out everything else. He felt more blind than he ever had. 

Crosshair peered down his scope, looking at the steep mountainside they were supposed to be scaling to get to the base camp.

“It has to be mining operations. I can’t seem to fathom what else it could have been," Tech looked around at the geography.

When they reached the foot of the hill, they looked up at the skinny crag they’d have to walk through, and Wrecker sighed. He hated heights. The four clones pressed their sides into the side of the mountain as they walked very carefully along the narrow path. Down below were nothing but red stalagmites jutting up from the earth. One slip and that would be a nasty fall. Wrecker just kept mumbling to himself to not look down as the inched closer to their destination.

“Anything?" Tech asked Hunter, who just gave him a defeated shake. Tech sighed. Hunter was usually the most valuable part of their expeditions. 

“We should be arriving soon," Tech looked up from his tablet, noticing how the narrow walkway gave way to a massive cave-like structure tucked into the side of this vast canyon.

Inside this cave was a pristine Republic research vessel, along with a few tents set up with various tables filled with scientific research machinery. Everything was untouched, but abandoned. Hunter could tell by the smell of the food still sitting out on their plates it had been left alone for at least a day. The others filed in to start investigating the scene. Tech noticed that the footprints seemingly led deeper into the cave. He slid his infrared visor into place and began scanning the entrance to the tunnel.

~~~

“Oh my god, Echo!” You howled, watching his pale face light up pink. “You did WHAT with Fives?!”

“It was one time!” He justified and looked up at the ceiling. “We were young and had never even seen a human female before. She was also an omega and us clones had no clue how we’d even react in their presence.”

“Ahh!” You giggled. “Was it fun?”

He bit his lip. You shook your head with a playful look.

“Have you ever shared before?” He asked.

“Me?” You laughed earnestly. “No way. First of all, I'm too busy for one, let alone two.”

“Don’t knock it till you try it,” He nudged you with his boot.

“Oh my god, Echo.” You slapped his shin. “I didn’t know you rolled like that.”

“No one does,” He laughed. “Except the Domino Squad.”

“You were living a wild life before the 99s. I can’t believe you never told me that.” You giggled, standing up with your comm. It had been well over an hour and you hadn’t heard from the others.

You pressed your comm, “Hey boys, just checking in?” You waited a few moments before calling out to them again. “Must be the mountain range,” Echo pointed out.

“I’ll give it a few more minutes,” You settled back down in your seat.

He sat up a bit straighter now, looking at you directly with crossed arms. “Now tell me about Wolffe.”

He smiled devilishly.

~~~

“No lifeforms are coming up on my scanners,” Tech informed.

“I haven’t seen anything but salt,” Wrecker looked around, putting his hands on his hips.

“So what?” Crosshair drawled. “It’s not like they vanished. They had to have gone somewhere.”

As if on cue, Hunter heard the telltale sound of someone rustling coming from the cave. He didn’t think twice before taking off after the noise. He ignored his brothers’ protest and continued after the sound. The echo of crystals tinkering filled his senses, and he disappeared deeper into the cavern. He turned on his night vision as he stalked the sound.

“Hunter, wait!” Crosshair called after his brother, but Hunter was determined. He groaned watching the oldest of them trot off into the cave.

Hunter heard the sound off to his right this time; it was much closer. He zeroed in on a narrow passageway and slowly approached. A distinct smell filled his senses… Death.

Pulling his gun out, he rounded the corner to find a small woman curled up in a ball, covered in crimson dust. A beta from the look of it.

“Ma’am?” He asked, kneeling down and lowering his weapon. She was shaking and trying her hardest to hide from him. Looking around, he noticed that there were a couple of deceased members lying around the cavern in various positions.

“What happened?” He demanded, noticing how they all wore Republic uniforms, including the scared scientist. She just trembled in shock. Her blonde hair was mangled and her clothes were torn in some places.

Quickly, the others filed in behind Hunter, coming into view. The woman hissed in warning, and Hunter decided to back off a bit. She was definitely frightened.

“Ma’am, we’re with the Republic. They sent us to find you,” Hunter tried to assure her.

“The Republic,” She tested the words on her tongue. “They have to know!”

“Know what?” Tech asked inquisitively.

“They-they…” She looked around the cave like she was seeing things. Wrecker followed her gaze noticing she was seeing things that weren’t there. 

Hunter realized she was probably traumatized, shell-shocked. He elected to try and coax her out of her sitting position. He reached up and unclipped his helmet, bringing it to his side in an effort to help calm her. When the woman finally looked back at him, she shrieked in pure horror before grabbing a handful of the dust below her and throwing it harshly in his face before scampering further into her hiding spot.

“Get away!” She was screaming at the void now. 

Clearly, she was hallucinating. 

Hunter sputtered and swiped at his eyes, trying to knock the powdery red off of him.

“You good?” Crosshair asked, helping knock the dirt off of him with a few slaps with his gloved hand.

“Argh,” He growled, feeling the particles sting his eyes and nose. It had an odd taste that was starting to take over his senses.

“Ma’am, you need to calm down,” Tech stepped forwards, holding a tranquilizer pen he stole from Y/N's pouch. She flailed when he injected her, but it quickly took effect. She slumped back down into the ground in a heap. Tech monitored her vitals as she slowly came back to something considered normal.

“I think his tattoo scared her,” Wrecker pointed out. Especially to someone on a deep trip like her, he probably looked like a monster.

Hunter decided to leave Tech and the others to sort out the survivor while he went outside to try and wash the dirt from his eyes. 

Yanking off his bandana, he grabbed his canteen and leaned over to pour it over his face. He used his free hand to yank off his glove and rub at his skin and eyes. 

“Kriff,” His heart was racing. He took a deep breath trying to dislodge it from his sinus’.

When he was certain he got it all, he closed up the canteen and wrung out his bandana. The world suddenly started to move strangely. Hunter tried standing up straight but the red rocks all round him started dancing with the wind. He wavered and clutched at his collar suddenly feeling restricted. 

“Tech, something is wrong,” He muttered, but he was forced to slump down onto the abandoned research table. 

Tech didn’t hear him. 

Hunter’s skin started to crawl, and his sense of smell was starting to go into overdrive. He could smell everything. The beta women, the earth, the crystal critters lurking just out of view, Wrecker’s day-old blacks and sweat. He could smell the gun oil residue on Crosshair's fingertips and Tech’s hair gel…from under his helmet. 

He was smelling things he knew he shouldn’t be, not from this distance. 

He rolled over off the bench onto the floor on his hands and knees into the loose salt. Suddenly, he felt the Alpha in him take over control. His chest puffed up as he fought for control. He was being reverted back to basic instincts, and he knew his grip on reality was slipping and slipping fast. He was heaving, trying to keep some control but the panic was taking over.

“Cross!” He cried out, but he knew his brother couldn’t hear him.

~~~

You were flushed, admitting to Echo that you had actually thought about it. Like really considered going through your heat with the Commander, had you all types of blushed.

"And imagine, you'd all would have had to have a sub-in if that had happened." You shook your head.

He laughed at you, knowing you hate this kind of stuff, which made it all that much funnier.

“Do you like him?” Echo asked.

“I don't know him,” You shrugged.

He clicked his tongue, “Well, that's not really a requirement, is it?”

You just slapped his shoulder, “You’re a slut, Echo. You know that?”

He just put his arms behind his head, “What can I say, Cyra’ika? I’m an alpha.”

“You’re not all like that,” You jabbed.

Echo rolled his eyes, “You have no idea. Back in the old days me and the boys had some stories…” He smirked.

“Mhmm,” You giggled and tried the radio one more time; this time, you opened the door to the ship and stepped outside, hoping the radio signal would be stronger.

“Tech? Hunter?” You called out into the comm, “Cross? Wrecker? Someone come in!” You shifted your weight onto one foot and looked at the little comm device.

You heard a series of clicks coming through the radio, then you heard Hunter’s broken voice.

“Ugh,” You shook the comm, “Signal’s trash… Hunter?”

“I-I… open… I-I need,” His voice was stuttering through the static.

“I think he wants the side door open,” Echo said, trying to boost the signal.

You nodded and trotted down the ramp, taking out your binoculars. You pointed them in his direction, but still, you didn’t see any movement. Hopefully, they were able to find the scientists and you can finally return home for your real shore-leave, maybe even take the Commander up on his offer. You giggled to yourself, lowering the binoculars.

You heard a little jingle and looked down and yelped.

A small little crystal fox stared back up at you blinking its amber eyes curiously. 

“Hi there,” You said, slowly lowering your binoculars. The small creature stepped forwards before quickly nipping onto your shoelace and tugging it loose.

You twitched, bringing your leg back afraid it would bite, but instead, it chirped and darted off under the ship and towards the mountain range jingling as it ran.

“Hey, Wait!” You shouted and ran off after the little guy, “Hold on!”

~~~

“Where’s Hunter?” Crosshair asked, looking around the cave.

Wrecker shrugged, and Crosshair decided to go looking for his brother. When he exited the cave, he noticed the fresh tracks leading away from the abandoned camp and the overpowering smell of an Alpha… in rut.

He followed the tracks until he reached the mountain pass.

Crosshair grabbed his comms and radioed in, “Hunter! Come in!”

He trotted back to the cavern and grabbed Wrecker, “Hunter took off, c’mon, we gotta go now.”

“You have to warn the Republic,” The woman grabbed onto Tech’s uniform.

“Warn them about what?” He scanned her body, noticing the telltale signs of elevated heart rate, dilated eyes, and nervous twitching. The woman was high as hell.

“The minerals. T-they’re…” She looked out at the members of her team, “It’s toxic.”

The three soldiers all looked at each other, knowing Hunter got a good dose of it and with his senses, he was probably coming unglued.

“What is the substance?” Tech asked.

She looked at him, “Unrefined Spice cut with-” Her eyes rolled into the back of her head, and she fainted.

“Shit,” Crosshair wasn’t liking this one bit.

“I got her. You guys go get Hunter,” Wrecker picked the lady up and let the others take off running after their infected brother.

Tech and Crosshair wasted no time sprinting out of the cave and towards the narrow pass.

~~~

You had heard Echo radio for you which made you halt in your tracks. The crystal fox scampered away disappearing into a narrow crevice the mountain side. 

“Get back here.” Echo sounded worried, “There’s someth-” He was cut off. 

You spun around realizing you had ventured far from the ship. You sighed and bent down to re-tie your combat boot before taking off in a jog back to the Marauder. Jumping over a couple smaller boulders you made a beeline for the ship. 

“I’m coming Echo!” You radioed back and scurried up the steps, “What’s going on?” 

You looked around but the ship was silent. You narrowed your eyes and peered around the corner of the cockpit into the main galley. You heard a strange muffled noise before drawing your weapon. You flicked it to stun before holding it up suddenly overcome with nerves. 

“Echo?” You called out softly into the back of the ship. 

Suddenly Hunter’s head popped out from behind the bunk door. You sighed and put the gun back into the holster and pointed a finger at him, “Sarge you scared me half to death.” 

He approached, “I wouldn’t want that omega now would I?” his voice sounded strange. You raised a brow watching him get nearer. He looked disheveled. His grey armor was covered in a crimson substance and his hair was all over the place.

“Hunter are you okay?” You asked reaching for your pack. 

He lunged forwards and grabbed your wrist in a bruising grip. You yelped out trying to snatch it back but he just pulled you into him before throwing you backwards against the dining table. Echo’s caff and various plates went flying and clattering onto the ground. You yelled out in pain as your back collided with the steel surface. He stalked up to you grabbing you again and you tried to shove him off not understanding why he was being so rough all of a sudden. Your heart felt like it was going to burst out of your chest. Hunter however was deathly precise in his movements. 

“Hunter what-” You started, but he grabbed your neck and slammed you flat to the metal table before going for your wrist. You thrashed around trying to throw him off of you but he was too big and too strong. Your head was pounding from the impact. He settled in between your thighs pushing his hard pelvis into yours sedating you. 

“Stop fighting me omega.” He leaned down using his free hand to pin your arm to the table. You whined feeling him clamp down on your neck. He was starting to hurt you. The panic was setting in. Something was very wrong with Hunter it’s like he was possessed. 

You used your free hand to back hand him as hard as you could. His head snapped to the side with a crack. He growled making your insides churn. Thats when you noticed his pupils. They were beyond dilated. They nearly absorbed his entire eye, you were staring back into endless black holes. 

“Hunter get off of me!” You kneed him in the side making him gasp and cough knocking the wind out of him. You had a split second to get up and you took it. Ignoring the aches in your body, you shoved him back, he struggled to catch his breath and you turned to run. Making your way down the main galley you went for your bag to grab the tranquilizer. 

“Omega!” He used his alpha voice. You had to fight the submission. Every cell in your body wanted to bare your neck and submit to him but you fought it. This wasn’t Hunter. Hunter would never do something like this. Especially not use his tone on you… ever.

“Come.” He demanded standing there gripping his side while he caught his breath. 

You ignored him and kept rummaging for your pack, “Where the fuck is it?” You couldn’t believe it. You always left it in your duffle. 

You heard his heavy foot steps approaching when you decided to go for your stun gun instead. When you had a good grip on the gun, your feet were yanked out from under you. Hunter was way too fast and trained. You landed with a thud on the hard durasteel floor dropping the pistol. He was dragging you out of the narrow galley back into the main cabin. Thats when you noticed Echo knocked out on the floor next to you. He must have found Echo first before he realized you weren’t in the ship.

“Hunter!” You kicked at him with the other leg, “Stop! This isn’t you!” 

“Omega.” He growled out getting on the floor and kneeling on top of you. He placed a calloused hand on the back of your neck keeping you pinned with a squeak. You could feel his hardness pressing into the plush of your ass and you whimpered. He was in a manic rut. You felt him lean down getting closer to your scent glands. He reeked of pheromones. You were practically choking on it. You concluded he was defiantly in a rut. You had to get out of here. 

“Omega… smells w-wrong.” He shook his head trying to get a better sniff. 

“Hunter please!” You whined feeling how hot his breath was on your neck. His smokey scent was everywhere and it was starting to consume you. You could feel your body starting to react to these pheromones and you cursed yourself. He no doubt could smell you. 

You were suddenly flipped over onto your back roughly making you whimper on impact. Tears slipped out of the corners of your eyes as you filled with fear. His face didn’t even look like his own anymore. The softness he reserved for you was gone and all that was left was the animal that lived inside him. 

He leaned down and licked the stray tears off your face with a hum. You pressed your hands into his chest pleading with him to let you go. He pinned your hands down to the durasteel and shifted his weight so he could shove his nose into your neck where the fresh implant rests and your mating gland. He growled disapprovingly and used one hand to tear your shirt collar and rip the bacta patch off of you. You shrieked as it burned. 

“Hunter!” You cried begging for him to get control. 

He looked at the incision menacingly before reaching to the vibro blade on his sleeve. You realized whatever infected him, reverted him back to his primal instincts and one thing between him and a rut was your implant. You flailed helplessly under his weight trying to get away. He tore your uniform top down the seams revealing your bound chest to him.

“Tech!” You screamed, “Crosshair!” You prayed they were close behind. They were probably the only ones strong enough to stop their brother.

Hunter leaned down pressing the tip of the sharp blade to your smooth gland. When the tip met your skin you screamed in pain feeling him lightly pierce your skin. You felt the hot blood running down your shoulder making his nose flare. You screamed in agony praying he’d just get it over with. Your voice broke with your screams.

“Wrecker!” You wailed hoping they’d hear you and that they were in a much better state than this. 

You screamed again feeling the tip of the blade remove the implant as it clattered to the ground. You shuddered starting to feel dizzy from the blood loss. He leaned down to lick the cut spreading his alpha pheromones into your open wound. He tried purring in an attempt to comfort you, but the death grip on your neck didn’t help in any way. You reached down to his thigh searching for anything to help you. He nuzzled your neck again licking at the wound like a corellian hound. 

You knew he kept another blade on his belt but you were struggling to find it. Then when you brushed up against his side, you noticed he still had his gun. In a flash you brandished his pistol pressing it into his side. He was still purring totally unaware when you made your move.

“I’m sorry.” You cried then pulled the trigger. 

He looked at you stunned for a moment before slumping back onto his heels and releasing you. You took a deep gasping breath then sobbed realizing what you did, but he fell back against the side of the ship letting you scurry up to your knees. You turned his weapon to stun and unloaded on him. You stared at his limp body shaking in fright that he’d get up again at any second.

“Y/N?” Tech’s alarmed face appeared in the entry. You fired a few stunning shots at him without thinking but he retreated in time. 

“We’re not infected!” He yelled putting his hands up. 

You lowered the gun and fell back against the leg of the table Hunter had wrangled you onto just moments earlier. You let Hunter’s gun clatter to the ground. 

Crosshair and Tech entered the ship looking alarmed at the scene. 

“I shot him.” You whispered. They turned to look at their stunned brother who had a plasma burn in his side a long with a fresh stream of blood oozing out. 

“You’re bleeding.” Crosshair ran to your side taking his helmet off and reaching for your collar. You flinched making him second guess his movements. He had no idea what Hunter had done to you, but from the blooming bruises around your neck and chest, he was starting to put som pieces together. 

Tech scanned Hunter and determined the shot not lethal. He helped Hunter onto his back and started removing his armor while Crosshair tried to clean your wound. 

“What did he do to you?” Crosshair asked with anger laced in his tone. 

You just whimpered feeling the exhaustion settle in after the adrenaline wore off, “H-he cut my…” You waved at the wound, “He was like an animal.” You pointed to the little pill shaped device lying in the pool of your blood on the floor. Crosshair saw it and turned back to you. You were shaking now as the horror of everything was starting to settle in. He got up and grabbed some supplies from your bins and came back to your side. He knew you weren’t a soldier, but it didn’t make your behavior any less disturbing.  Seeing an omega cry was like having Hunter's vibro blade shoved into his chest.

“We heard you when we got down the hill.” Tech said pressing a bacta pack to Hunter’s side, “I’m sorry we didn’t get here sooner.” He then hooked hunter up to a liquid IV in hopes to flush his system of the drug.

You just nodded resting your forehead against Crosshairs shoulder. He quickly cleaned your wound opting to forego gentleness he was just wanting to get you patched up. Luckily Hunter made a pretty clean cut and it isn’t deep. He applied the bacta and the bandages just like he’d seen you do a hundred times. He then grabbed the pain killer injection just like last night. He distributed the medicine and continued to hold you as your shakes subsided. 

Wrecker and the sedated scientist arrived shortly after. He just stood there looking at everything bewildered. He set the lady down on a pallet on the floor before returning to his brothers. 

“What happened here?” He asked taking off his helmet. 

“It seems the unrefined spice caused Hunter’s senses to go into overdrive. He reverted back to his more animalistic instincts and attacked Y/N. He was searching for an omega.” Tech took off his own helmet. Tech grabbed a pair of binders and attached one to Hunter and the other to the cargo hold. They had no idea what they were going to get when he woke up. 

Noticing your worry, Crosshair decided you’d had enough. He bent down and scooped up your knees up and carried you back to the bunks. You leaned your head against his chest wanting to just go to sleep.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly setting you down in your bunk. He sat across from you in Tech’s neatly made cot. 

You just sniffled feeling more tears surface. Hunter was one of the men you did feel safe with. It was just any omega’s worst nightmare having a trusted alpha turn on you like that. Even though you know it wasn’t really Hunter, it was still horrifying. He was so strong. It frightened you. 

“Oh Ad’ika.” Crosshair sighed standing up and rummaging through his things. He came back with one of his civvies shirts. It was black and massive. He knelt down at your side taking his time unlacing your boots and sliding them off. He then went for your shirt gently removing what was left of the ripped fabric. You just stared at the ceiling as he shimmied you into his shirt. You settled finally and he grabbed your favorite blanket before pulling it up to your chin. You were unaware the Alpha was capable of such gentleness. 

“Do you want me to stay?” He asked noticing your shaking again. 

“I’m okay.” You croaked, “Thank you Cross.”

He didn’t fight you, but everything in his body begged him to stay and to comfort the frightened omega. He stood up and left letting the door swoosh closed behind him. 

When you were finally alone you started to wail. You cried and cried until you couldn't physically produce any more tears. Never had you ever resolved on to crying while on the job, but then again, you’d never been in a situation such as this before. 

Some time later, Wrecker came tiptoeing into the room worried that you were asleep. When he realized you weren’t, he showed you his Lula. You sniffled and gave him a little smile as he tucked lula into your blankets with you.

“Thanks Wreck.” You cuddled lula letting her comfort you. 

“Anytime pip.” He retreated back to the galley. You noticed Crosshair perched against the wall in the galley keeping watch. You sighed knowing he was at least a bit protective. Knowing he was watching over you, you relaxed a bit. Then sleep came and consumed you quickly. 

~~~

“What the actual fuck happened.” Crosshair demanded looking around the entire ship. The images of your torn up bleeding body haunted him. He might get pissy with you for your little flirting with the regs but this was unacceptable. No one is allowed to hurt an omega like that, especially his brother. It was taking all his control to not kick the shit out of Hunter’s unconscious body. 

“We need to get back to a medical base. I’m afraid I didn’t get a proper explanation from the surviving scientist. She said it was unrefined spice mixed with something else and the others seemed to have died from prolonged exposure. I don’t know what will happen to Hunter if we can’t get him back to a hospital.” Tech sat back into his chair looking at the others. 

Echo had come back to consciousness at some point and needed an ice pack for the bump on his head. He looked to tech, “Get the Marauder up in the air and radio to any of the nearest Venador fleets. We can meet them half way.”

“Better yet, I’ll call Captain Rex.” Tech plugged his data pad into the console, “General Skywalker was supposed to be stationed in the Nabooian system near by.” 

“How do you know that?” Wrecker asked rubbing his eyes. 

“The drunk 501 boys last night mentioned it while they were alluding to the General’s fascination with the junior senator. They were refueling when we landed yesterday.” Tech replied sliding his goggles up. 

“Oh I like that senator.” Wrecker nodded, “She’s hot.” 

“I don’t care what we do.” Crosshair leaned against the galley hallway, “They both need immediate medical care.” His nose crinkled at the smell of Y/N’s blood still drying on their floor.

“Agreed.” Echo stared at Hunter’s limp body. He knew the Sargent was never going to forgive himself for this. Echo sighed, explaining this whole situation just got so much worse. Hunter was probably going to want to shoot himself when he comes to.

“Being their old medic, I’m positive they won’t have an issue treating her.” Tech began the take off process wanting to get off of this horrible planet. 

“Just get us off this forsaken planet.” Crosshair grumbled walking back to the bunk doorway. 

─ ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──── ♡ ─── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

Ahh okay, I think this story is going to be a little darker obviously, but it's for the plot! haha enjoy babes.

I'm also sitting here realizing I don't think Omega will be able to be written into this story given the obvious issue with her name lol so tbd on that.

[how-masterful]

Remastered

Dhawan!Master X Reader

The Power of The Doctor- Part Three

Summary: The Doctor is no more. There is only the Master, and you now have all the time in the world, with nobody to stop you. Only now Yasmin Khan is along for the ride, and if there’s one thing that can stand in your way, it’s her...

Notes: One more part to go! A deviation from the original plan, but these fics take themselves in all sorts of directions! A little more deviation from the source material here, but then again there is a whole new body in the mix- like I say to @plethora-of-imagines��� - it’s my self insert target novel, i’ll change the plot how i like! Expect part 4 next week- Same bat time, same bat channel. (Also, guess what part of the outfit belongs to who. Thinking that up was half the fun. I certainly went through different wacky combos before settling on something sort of wearable!)

Warnings: Mentions of canon-typical violence, Sexual themes, Inuendo

The Master leapt across the TARDIS floor, jumping up onto the platform that housed the central console unit. He was giddy with anarchistic glee, fisted hands thrust upon his hips like a superhero. He had the body of the Doctor. He was the hero now. But hero he wouldn’t be, not for much longer. Not with his plan, anyway.

You joined his excitement, softly grasping hold of his arm, hands snaking around his bicep. The Master gave a glance over his shoulder towards you, lips curling across his teeth in a dastardly smile. You returned the gesture with pure conviction. You two were going to have some real fun.

“What do you think, Dearest?” He crooned, raking his eyes across the console room.

“Ghastly. But we’ll make it our own.” You said, as easy as viewing a new house. You inspected the console: the holographic screen, the glowing buttons. You even saw a mallet dangling from a hook, most likely there to aid in difficult jump starts..

“Every regeneration tends to decorate, don’t they… Doctor?” 

You practically purred the last word, leaning into the Master's side, fingers walking up his arm in a tantalising rhythm. The Master's eyes fluttered closed as he gave a satisfied groan. Yes, he was the Doctor now. 

He turned his head all the way, meeting your eyes, before bringing your hand to his lips and pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

“Indeed they do, faithful companion.” The Master-Doctor replied. A hot red blush burned within your cheeks.

 The pair of you soon dissolved into excited giggles, years of plotting and scheming swirling within your brains. All the chaos you could cause, the worlds you could tear asunder. The stars you could stamp on, the races you could blot out. You could hold onto this face of the Master, nay, the Doctor, forever. With no threat out there to take him from you, his warm brown eyes could be yours until you were old and grey. 

He’d figure out a way to prevent that, obviously. All in good time.

The door creaked weakly behind you, and the spell of privacy was broken. You turned around to see Yaz’s painfully slow trepidation, her feet making no haste as she brought herself into the TARDIS doors. To Yaz, the usual warmth was ice to the touch. Life had been sucked out of the room, the orange glow of the console dimmer than she’s known. It was as if the TARDIS was in mourning, the usual beaming smile of the Doctor, her Doctor, replaced by the twisted grin of the Master. He’d taken stake of her Doctor's home, of her Doctor's body. The room felt deathly tense.

“C’mon, Yaz! We haven’t got all day!”

The Master called, pulling himself from your grasp. He clenched his fists in glee, grasping at the new possibility in the air.

“I know it’s a time machine, but stop dawdling! Places to go, people to see!”

You clasped your hands together as the Master spun on the balls of his feet, the grey coat flying outwards like a pair of wings. Yaz stood motionless as the Master began to ramble, strutting around the console, a skip in his step.

“Lets save a civilisation, correct history-” He yelled, spinning and calling to the sky.

“Hell, let's rescue a sick animal!” His cry was guttural, his teeth gnashing together as he growled with pride.

“The universe is mine for the taking! Any ideas? Any notes?” He teased, leaning against a grand crystalline structure. Yaz once more felt the pang of Deja vu in her gut, the images of the Master in the same pose on Barton's plane flickering across her vision.

“Before you ask, Bowie was right. There is life on Mars… too bad it’ll kill you.”

You leant against a different crystal, tapping at your chin dramatically.

“Hmm... I’d like to become a Queen. I’m talking full blown planetary allegiance, armies at my command.” You suggested. The Master snapped his fingers, pointing in your direction.

“That's the spirit! Should’ve said something earlier Yaz, now you’ll have to wait.”

He pushed himself from the side of the spider-like structure, leaping over to the centre console, ready to take flight. His hands paused above the controls, his head cocking to the side like a curious puppy. He narrowed his eyes before giving a small chuckle, turning to stare at Yaz, gesturing down to the various post- it notes and slips of paper she’d stuck across the console. Instructions, definitions, uses, all scribbled across pink and yellow squares and stuck to the various levers and gadgets across the circular console. Yaz gave an uncomfortable gulp.

“Are these yours?” He asked. You peered over, resting a hand above your heart.

“How cute, you’ve been revising.” You teased.

The Master nodded, artificial bliss upon his face.

“Bless.” He sarcastically uttered, before throwing the note over his shoulder and reaching for the control.

BANG. 

With a sudden, violent spark, the TARDIS reacted to the Master's touch. It was like a small firework had erupted from the machine, sparks of fire blasting into the air and giving the Master a nasty shock. The Timelord let out a howl, jumping backwards and clutching his hand. His palm began to glow, the searing burn across his hand glimmering with golden regeneration energy. Yaz held her breath, stepping forward, hope daring to claw at her stomach. Maybe that was a deadly shock, she thought. A slow acting toxin, the TARDIS sacrificing the current body and pushing him to regenerate. Maybe it’d burn out this body, and bring the real Doctor, or whoever was next to come, back. 

No such luck came. The wound upon the Master's hand made haste to knit itself together, the Master flexing his fingers and growling at the console unit.

“You old COW!” he yelled, sending a violent kick to the underneath of the console, the metal clanging upon impact.

“I’m still cooking!”

You stepped across the console room, feet stomping against the grated floor. You reached for the dangling mallet you’d spotted earlier, wielding it to your side and leaning towards the console.

“Now that wasn’t nice, was it?”

You warned, glaring at the rocky surface. The Master leant forward on the other side, and Yaz felt bile crawl up her throat, drowning the hope that had once begun the trek.

“Was that some sort of dirty protest?” He hissed at the console, baring his teeth and grasping tightly onto one of the metal bars.

“Unless you want to end up consigned down a black hole for eternity, you’d better behave!”

The TARDIS gave a small hum. A weak apology, but an apology nonetheless.

“I am the Doctor, and you will obey me.” The Master-Doctor growled out. The TARDIS retreated into herself in reply.

“Your sister was so wonderful.” You said, fingertips gently brushing over the surface. The TARDIS was less willing to shy away, especially since you’d dropped the hammer.

“Don’t ruin it for yourself. Look, see? We even brought Yaz.”

Across the console, the Master was ready to enter the coordinates and send her on her way. Suddenly, the same bright light that’d engulfed his hand came surging through his throat, burning his tongue and staining his cheeks a glimmering, skeletal orange. His brown pupils shone with the same golden hue, the Master letting out a loud retching sound- a burst of regeneration energy erupting from his mouth and flying into the air. His hand flew to cover his mouth, his body yanking itself forward like metal to a magnet. You quickly raced towards him, his body tumbling towards the ground, his knees buckling as the regeneration glow surged through his skin. You caught him in your grasp, his hands grappling to fist hold the material of your dress, a pained groan rippling through his vocal chords.

“Easy, I've got you.” You whispered, your back to Yaz as you comforted your husband.

The Master sighed, shaking his head and breathing deep, the energy lighting up his veins like electrical wiring and dissipating like dust in the air. Yaz once more hoped this was a sign he was about to change- maybe this was the regeneration being rejected by the Doctors biology, maybe this was a sign there was a chance.

“Change back.” Yaz demanded, finding a break in the chaos. The Master groaned again, nails digging into the fabric as he regained control of his body, shaking his head furiously.

“Can’t be done.” He snapped, glaring over your shoulder towards Yaz.

“Like I said, she’s gone.”

“Alright now?” You once more asked quietly, and the Master gave a small nod, bringing himself to stand at full height. He shifted his shoulders, wiggling his fingertips and regaining composure.

“I know you’re worried about what we’re gonna do, what I’m gonna do-”

He started, stepping down from the platform and onto Yaz’s level.

“It’s pretty simple. The world will burn, becoming a foundry for Daleks, a farm for Cyber conversion- hence all the work in the volcano. Maybe i’ll even take another crack at that Kasaavin plan, and use the rejects as storage.”

He inched closer to Yaz, his strength regained, his confidence in full swing.

“All the while, I tarnish the name of the Doctor. The universe will know the word Doctor means pain, destruction and fear, people will quake in fear and beg for mercy at the mere mention-”

Yaz stormed forward, rage simmering in her gut as she snatched her shot at confidence.

“If you think i’m gonna let you-”

“I AM THE DOCTOR NOW!” 

The Master roared, closing the gap between the pair, his nose pushed against her own. Spit flew from his mouth as he bared his teeth like a feral predator, glare piercing, whole body shaking with anger and hatred.

“I AM THE DOCTOR!” 

The pair stood, staring each other down, shock visible as Yaz visibly recoiled from his outburst. A vicious wave of anger dared to sink its claws into your mind as he stared her up and down, his chest heaving with ragged breaths.

“You should have shot me when you had the chance to.” The Master stated, before he yanked himself away with another pained groan. He traipsed back towards the console, muttering to himself, as Yaz allowed her head to sink back and rest against the wall. In a whirlwind you were by her side, nails digging into her arm as you grasped hold of her jacket. Yaz stared at you in bewilderment, the shock of the Masters outburst sending her thoughts spiralling

“The only reason you’re here is because I wanted something to keep me entertained.” You hissed in her ear, teeth gritting together.

“And right now, I'm not finding you very fun. One mere whisper from me in his ear, and you’re an action figure floating in a supernova- I mean it, Yaz. One chance. Have I made myself clear?”

Yaz glowered, visibly shaking with a violent cocktail of rage and anxiety. You tilted your head, grip tightening on her arm.

“I’m not scared of you.” She whispered. You laughed quietly.

“No, but you’re going to envy me. Because I won. It's my turn now. My Doctor.”

Yaz shook your grasp from her arm, and you raised your hands in mocking surrender. Turning on your heels, you made your way towards the Master, who’d begun to idly touch levers and flip switches, no doubt fiddling with the controls to suit his driving style. Your hands softly stroked down his arms, fingers grasping hold of his hands as you pulled yourself close to his chest.

“I want a new outfit.” You said softly. “Peasant chic doesn’t suit world domination.”

The Master smirked, eyes raking up and down your disguise.

“I need a look that says ‘Doctor’.” He replied. “Maybe you could find something equally nostalgic.”

“I’ve always been fond of leather and velvet.” You teased, running your finger under his brace and softly snapping it back upon his chest, your body following suit as you pushed yourself against his person. The Master hummed, hands reaching for your waist. Turning towards Yaz, he stared her down, wiping the spit from his chin.

“Touch anything, or try to escape-” He warned, “And I’ll kill you.”

With a final wink you turned to venture down the labyrinthian corridors of the TARDIS, leaving Yaz standing breathless, determined, and furious in your wake.

Soon a mountain of clothes had built itself in the middle of the wardrobe floor. The Master had thrown several coats, shirts, jackets and pairs of trousers over his shoulder, your own pile accruing of abandoned outfits as you sifted through the remnants of companion wardrobes. A blue fluffy coat, a union jack shirt, a rainbow jacket, high waisted check trousers, all garments from the past piled up onto the floor in your Franken-pile of a floordrobe.

“Oh, I remember this one.” The Master mused, pulling a burgundy velvet jacket out from the rack. You turned to look at the garment, smiling softly as the memory returned to your brain.

“I did love that look.” You replied, before pulling your own outfit from the rack. You span around to show the Master the long white gown, the white fluffy collar tickling your nose and making the Master laugh.

“Romana was quite the snappy dresser.” He taunted, making you roll your eyes as you threw the dress onto the ever growing pile, next to a cave girl dress and a very low cut and neon pink shirt. The Master was sliding through the racks at speed, making quick judgement as he decided on his look. Item by item, various outfits were passed down the rail, the Master turning up his nose at most of the offerings.

“No, no, old, boring- wait, this was MINE!” he yelled, producing a long purple skirt and puff sleeve jacket, a white shirt and corset hanging on the adjacent hanger. You span around and gasped excitedly at the sight of Missy’s old outfit, racing across the room to grasp hold of the expensive material.

“Oh, Missy… you so fine.” You sang dreamily, the Master chuckling as you took the garment from his grasp.

“No wonder the Doctor's outfits are so god awful,” he soon sighed, pushing the grey coat from his shoulders, exposing the long sleeves of the rainbow shirt he was wearing underneath. You gently placed Missy’s outfit back onto the rail, sparing it the undignified death of the floordrobe, and sinking to sit atop the mound of clothes alongside the Master.

“She’s got nothing to wear.”

“She found those things in a charity shop.” You offered, and the Master rolled his eyes.

“Of course she did. No wonder.”

Reaching across the pile, you picked up a vivid red fez, sitting it atop the Master's head and smirking.

“That's a good look for you.”

The Master turned around and stared at himself in the mirror, before throwing the offending piece of headwear across the room, shaking his head. You giggled in return, once more pulling him close by his braces.

“No idea why he liked that hat so much.”

“Every Doctor has their quirks.” You said, inching closer across the pile. The Master grinned, taking grasp of your middle and pulling you across the pile, practically sitting you in his lap.

“Mine is the complete inability to keep my hands off of my companion.”

You let out a soft moan as the Master trailed his lips across your jaw, his nose nuzzling into the crook of your neck, leading the kisses down your throat as you softly let your head fall back upon your shoulders.

“My lovely, beloved companion.” He hummed against your skin, hands trailing to your back and elegantly freeing the buttons of your dress from their holes. You let out a whine of protest as he pulled away, fingers pushing the suspenders from his shoulders before crawling down to yank the rainbow print shirt from his blue trousers. 

“Patience, love.” he warned, hand fisting in the hair at the nape of your neck, pulling you to meet his face.

“We’ve got all the time in the world.”

Your lips met, noses slotting into place against each other, your foreheads bumping together as you gasped for breath against the Master's kiss. His hands were once more exploring every avenue they could to free you from your disguise, your own wrestling to pull the shirt from his body, letting out a whine as you had to break from his kiss, his arms reaching to the sky as he threw the shirt across the room. You fought to yank the undergarment from his chest, fingers fighting to pull the elasticated nylon from his skin.

“Not the first time you’ve done this.” He teased, making you groan against his lips. You’d helped him out of Missy’s outfit soon after his regeneration, ‘breaking in’ his new body after he’d escaped from the Mondasian Cybership. You’d unlaced his corset hole by hole, kissing deep as you unbuttoned his frilled blouse, not bothering to free him of his long purple skirt and buckled heels until he’d started audibly swearing and growling at you to take them off.

“Shut up and help me.” You complained, his hands sinking beneath the elastic band of the material and exposing his bare chest. He’d happily assisted, joining you in shedding your outfit and exposing your own bare chest. He’d pulled you to straddle his waist, laying back against the pile of clothes, your hair falling around his face like a waterfall as your lips connected once more. You moaned into his mouth, hiking up your skirts and pressing your bodies against each other, sweat forming upon your brow, barely glancing in the huge mirror beside you.

“Y’know what else drives me wild,” You purred, the Master's hands trailing down towards your thighs as you leant towards his ear.

“Question marks and Celery.” You whispered, the Master laughing loudly, pulling you down into another feverish kiss.

The TARDIS materialised upon the planet with a grating wheeze, its temporal engines heaving as it placed itself upon the dying planet of mushrooms and foliage. The sky was a deep red, lit with fire and flame as rockets and missiles shot through the air, scarring the sky with their chemtrails as the planets fought for domination below. The two warring races, an odd set of neighbours, now mutually assured in their destruction as the TARDIS looked on. Stepping out of the box, you brandished your new attires to the world. The Master stood proud in his battered boots and chequered trousers, his grey coat sleeves rolled up to reveal his curved cuffs, his shirt tucked beneath his question mark vest, a piece of celery pinned to his collar. A long knit scarf hung around his neck, loosely looped once and trailing on the floor, the earring still hanging from his left ear. 

By his side you stood in equal chaotic fashion, a pair of dark brown leather cowboy boots on your feet. You’d stolen a pair of tights and blue denim dress, a peter pan collar shirt beneath, a red necktie hanging as a necklace. Atop that you wore a burgundy, collarless leather jacket and an equally as long white scarf- a tiara of Trakken royalty perched atop your head. All mixed with a satisfied glow within your cheeks as you watched the two worlds burn below, arms linked together, your head resting atop The Master's shoulder.

“How lovely.” The Master muttered to himself, staring down at the ravaging war. “Gold star and a sticker.”

“It’s beautiful.” You replied, watching a crater appear on the side of the planet, the ground erupting into a black mushroom of smoke and ash.

Yaz stood behind, numbly watching the carnage as it unfolded across the two planets. This was what the Master wanted, he took pride in the destruction of planets the Doctor would normally be halfway through saving. His enjoyment, your enjoyment, a twisted and sick hobby of destruction.

“That's how you stop two sides from warring, Yaz.” The Master said louder, watching another nuclear weapon fire across the horizon.

“You destroy them both.”

You sighed contently against the Master's side, admiring the swirling smoke that bled into the atmosphere, listening idly to his teachings as you watched the bitter war. They’d be at this for days, weeks, months, years. A complete loss of life on both sides. The planets would be spreading shrapnel and dirt into the galaxy for millions of years to come.

A low whirr came from the edge of the cliff, a white drone suddenly zipping into the sky from beneath your feet. The Master-Doctor grinned, staring down the camera that had been mounted to the dirtied robot, the peeling label of ‘Magpie Electricals.’ stuck to the outer rim of the lens.

The Master stilled his expression, a proud smirk appearing on his face as he gave the robot a teasing wave.

“Oh hello.” He crooned, beckoning the robot over to the front doors of the TARDIS, Yaz peeking behind your shoulders in the viewfinder of the machine.

“We have a message for all your remaining news viewers.” You said, peering smugly into the camera feed. The Master- Doctor puffed his chest, staring straight down the lens,

“I am the Doctor,” He declared. “And I caused this war.”

The machine hastily zipped backwards, getting a good view of the TARDIS from the bottom step to the shining white bulb sat on top. It took one last look at you and the Master before flying away into the atmosphere, no doubt inspiring fear and heartbreak into the hearts of all that were left to watch its feed.

“See, Yaz?” The Master called, gesturing to the dying planets. He took a quick look at the golden, square shaped watch upon his wrist.

“No one to stop us now.”

The Master chuckled, grasping your chin in his fingertips as he glanced back at Yaz, winking dastardly before placing a chaste kiss upon your lips. Suddenly, something inside of Yaz snapped. She scrunched her nose in disgust. Disgust at your intentions, your actions, and your blatant mockery.

 She felt something building in her chest, her rage at the Master's perversion of everything it meant to be the Doctor, her long standing disdain of you for pretending to be her friend, and thinking you could make her feel so small and worthless. Despite your efforts, you wouldn’t be able to keep her down. Whatever this sick game was, Yasmin Khan was tired of playing. The mantra of ‘What Would the Doctor Do?’ played through her head like a bass drum, pounding in her veins, inspiring her to take action. 

“NO!”

With a rallying war cry, Yaz charged forwards, her hands slamming into the backs of your shoulders and sending you tumbling forwards towards the floor. Your linked arms had caught your bodies in a tangle, the impact sending you both into a bundled mess of limbs and scarfs as you crashed into the rocky surface of the Mushroom planet. You stared at Yaz in horror as she slammed the TARDIS doors shut behind you, scrambling to try and stand once more, an attempt in vain to try and reach the TARDIS before it was too late. You were quick, but Yaz was running on adrenaline, and before you could even stand up she’d yanked down the lever on the TARDIS console, the familiar wheeze of the TARDIS engines echoing through the air. You watched the machine dematerialise, sinking back to the floor with a disgruntled huff, the Master sat beside you with a similar expression of discombobulated anger.

“Those damn post- it notes.” You grumbled, the Master letting out a scoff as he stared at the empty space.

“What do we do now?” You asked tentatively, shifting to sit rather than sprawl across the floor. The Master adjusted his scarf, matching your cross legged stance on the ground.

“We wait.” He replied, staring across the horizon. You looked at him incredulously.

“What?”

“Don’t forget, love. I’m the Doctor. Sooner or later she’ll come crawling back. You’ll see.”

Instinctively, you shuffled closer to his side, your shoulders pressing together as fire rained from the skies.

“And while we wait, we watch the fireworks. I’d say it’s quite romantic.”

You cocked your head to the side, smiling softly as the Master gestured to the red tinged galaxies looming in the skies.

“It does remind me of one of our first dates.” You softly admitted, watching as a plane nose dived into one of the already gargantuan craters. The Master hummed fondly, the pair of you sitting in silence, the Timelord idly picking at a small mushroom poking through the dirt.

“Did I ever tell you about the time I was kidnapped by a humanoid lizard and alien comrade, and force fed hallucinogenic mushrooms while pretending to be a communist officer in the Soviet Union?”

You stared at the Master, blinking in shock at the casual bombshell, trying to string together how any of what he’d said made sense.

“You just said a lot of words… and I don’t think I comprehended any of them.”

“I got saved by my stalker neighbour and ended up adopting her parrot when she died in a building collapse.”

A disbelieving laugh escaped your lips.

“I’m gonna need you to start at the beginning.”

Several hours and stories later, the familiar wheeze of the TARDIS engine came throttling through the atmosphere. The Master's head lay in your lap, your fingers idly petting at the Timelords hair, the grey coat thrown around your shoulders, hood sat just behind your tiara.

At the familiar sound his eyes fluttered open, his meditative moment of bliss snatched away by the loud thump of landing. Shuffling to sit, he glanced over his shoulder, narrowing his eyes as Yaz opened the door. His hand had placed itself upon your knee, likely preventing you from marching over and throttling her, your own glare narrow. She stood in the doorway, fiddling with her nails. You questioned how long she’d been gone. How long it’d taken her to decide to return.

“Better?” The Master asked dryly, his question curt and disappointed. 

Yaz gave a small nod, opening the door further as she stepped back into the console room, disappearing from view. She waited by the closest crystal as you slowly stepped back into the TARDIS, your back pressing against the opposing crystalline structure as the Master took hold of the controls. There was an awkward silence within the room, the air sitting heavy. Yaz cleared her throat, and you folded your leather covered arms. The Master had taken his coat back.

“I’m sorry.”

“No you’re not.” You bit back. The Master-Doctor raised his hand softly, turning to stare at Yaz with a raised eyebrow.

“Are you?” He asked, his tone sounding like he was chastising a small child.

“Truly?”

“I came back, didn’t I?” She asked. The Master-Doctor rolled his shoulders, one hand sitting on his hip, the other holding onto the console. He looked her up and down, as if inspecting her facade for any visible cracks. Your eyes flicked between the pair of them like tennis, an uncomfortable feeling on the back of your neck. A strange weight, like somebody was watching you. You brushed it off as the Master spoke.

“I’m fun.” He insisted. “Don’t you remember how much fun we had at Barton's party?”

“When you were pretending to be a not crazy person?”

Yaz replied, quicker than she’d anticipated. She took a breath, expecting wrath, instead receiving a small chuckle in reply.

“See, this is called a rapport.” The Master-Doctor said. “A much better second impression than earlier. Keep this up and I might not have to kill you, maybe we could make this travelling thing work. Who says three’s a crowd, eh?”

Yaz sighed, watching as the Master thrust down the lever atop the machine, sending the TARDIS into motion. A sudden presence behind her made Yaz jump slightly, turning around to see you standing just behind her.

“Well done. You didn’t ditch the Doctor.” You said, more sarcastic than serious. Yaz nodded, taking a deep breath through her nose. You moved to stand next to her, watching as the Master Doctor busied himself with the console.

“I just,” You started, biting your lip. “If you’re insisting on surviving I want you to know… I don’t hate you, Yaz.”

Yaz turned to look at you, raising an eyebrow and parting her lips, as if trying to find the answer she wanted to give.

“I think I'm better than you, but I don’t hate you.”

“Oh. Right.” Yaz nodded, hands fisting into her pockets.

“Honestly, we’re not that different, you and I.” You said, leaning against the large crystal.

“In terms of circumstance. I mean… two girls, both from Earth, that were in the right place, just at the right time, and ended up being swept up in alien madness and Timelord shenanigans… and found it too exciting to let go of.”

Yaz turned to look at you once more, freeing her hands from her pockets and looking at you curiously.

“Well… more accurately… found our Timelords too exciting to let go of. Because that's the reason we’re here, isn’t it Yaz? I think I speak for the both of us when I say it’s not our enjoyment of near extermination that keeps us travelling in the TARDIS.”

You watched the Master inspect every control, still adjusting and shifting each gear with precise precision.

“It’s because we don’t want to go back to a life without them in it. Y’know, before I left to join you guys, we hadn’t spent a single night without each other. I still haven’t been home ever since.”

Yaz stared, slightly surprised.

“What about your family? Friends? Your life?”

You scuffed your shoes against the floor, smirking to yourself.

“Honestly? The Master felt like a lifeline. I had a dead end job, no friends, no strings I needed to cut.”

“Surely there were people out there for you?”

“They weren’t worth the Master.” You said, meeting her gaze once more.

“The official word was I died in a Dalek invasion. I managed to rank at number seven thousand and twenty six on the list of the deceased.”

You nudged your elbow against Yaz’s arm, smiling proudly.

“But I managed to crack the top five of UNIT’S most wanted list.”

Yaz laughed, joining you in a small chuckle, before she realised exactly what she was doing. She was laughing with the enemy. But somehow, she felt a strange, kindred spirit. A plaster over the leaking gunshot wound. A small, brief bit of attempted relief.

“Even though it was for nefarious purpose, every night without the Master was torture. I knew I’d see him again, but the pain of not knowing where he was, or what he was doing… still hurt.”

“The Doctor was gone for a year, once. It wasn’t the best time for me.”

Yaz admitted. You tilted your head, gesturing in her direction.

“That was when she ended up in Shada, wasn’t it?”

“Shada?”

“The big alien prison thingy,” you said. “And the Dalek revolution.”

“How do you know about all that?”

“You left us for hours on that planet, Yaz. If we weren’t gossiping, we were, y’know…”

Yaz scrunched her nose in disgust once more, and you gave a small laugh.

“Sorry.” You said, still chuckling to yourself. “But I bet that felt like torture. Not knowing if she was alive or not… thinking you’ll never see her again. Having to face life without her. Because you’re in love with the Doctor, aren’t you?”

Yaz stared down at the floor, nodding to herself. You suddenly realised, eyes flicking back to the Master-Doctor. You stepped forwards, leaning in closer.

“But see Yaz, this is the ‘not hating you’ bit. You still get to be here, with the Doctor.”

Looking up to meet your face, Yaz shook her head in disbelief, taking a step away from you.

“Of course you’ll have to get over the whole ‘being in love’ part, but you still get to be here! My treat. Because I'm that nice, and we’re that little bit alike.”

Yaz clenched her teeth together, fists returning to her sides. She was calm and collected despite the thunder in her stomach.

“We may have similar circumstances, but we’re nothing alike. You’re not even close to nice, you’re a psychopathic murderer.”

You stood back, staring at Yaz with an expression of betrayal, lips pressed together in a thin line. Before you could think of a response, Yaz had moved to sit on the steps, staring at the floor with her hands clasped over her knees. You briefly looked over your shoulder to see the Master had stopped messing with the console, his eyes softly watching. He’d likely been standing there for a while. 

With a small gesture, his arms were open to you, your feet clattering against the floor as you retreated into his side. His arms wrapped around your middle as he held you from behind, his head hovering beside your shoulder as you both looked over at Yaz.

“Here I thought you’d made a friend.” He said quietly.

You gave a small sigh, leaning back into his embrace.

“So did I.”

“Oh Love, how about I make it up to you.” He offered, your eyes meeting.

“Still want me to make you a queen?”

You turned to spare Yaz one more glance, shaking your head as you felt all the mercy for humanity in your body fade into nothingness.

“I want to be a Goddess.” You replied firmly. “A Goddess that destroys the Earth, putting an end to all the silly little Yasmin Khans of the world. And anybody else that gets in my way.”

The Master smiled, pressing his lips to your temple and bringing you closer to his side.

“That's my girl.” He purred in your ear, a small smile gracing your lips.

You stood together as the TARDIS flew through the vortex, all the while Yaz’s secret weapon waited behind the far wall, weapon drawn. Vinder thought you’d sounded like a bunch of crazies from the small briefing Yaz had given, but from hearing it first hand, he knew you were going to be more of a handful. The Doctor had had his back while he searched the universe for his family, all while dealing with the Flux- the least he could do was return the favour, bringing her back to who she truly belonged to. Yaz’s plan was risky, but Vinder considered himself an expert at gambling with his luck. He knew he had to be careful, after all, he was a father now- but he knew one thing for certain: 

This Master, whoever he was, didn’t know what was about to hit him.

[back-and-totheleft]

An Epic That Gets Better as It Gets Longer

I had serious doubts before seeing a 3 hour 39 minute version of Bernardo Bertolucci’s Last Emperor, thinking perhaps an already indolent film was to become absolutely, luxuriantly, corrupted.

How wrong I was. The director’s cut is surely a richer, rounder film, made to the true rhythm of another time and culture. Certainly many felt that the 2 hour 20 minute version of The Last Emperor was a good film when it was released in 1987; it went on, after all, to win Best Picture, Best Director and six other Oscars. But this bold new version, being released on Dec. 4, is a masterpiece — a fully shaped historical epic that allows us to understand the complex character of Henry Pu Yi, the last Emperor of China, from his proud childhood in the early part of our century (when his excrement is sniffed daily by royal connoisseurs), through his loss of power, imprisonment and re-education, and finally to his destiny as a humble gardener during the Cultural Revolution of the 1960’s.

The literal-minded might argue that the narrative is insufficiently changed now to warrant this extra 80 minutes, and from a story point of view, they would be right. The new scenes expand on Pu Yi’s childhood years spent cloistered in Beijing’s Forbidden City, before Peter O’Toole shows up as a British tutor to change forever the way the Emperor thinks. There is a dance between the Empress (Joan Chen) and Official Consort (Vivian Wu), more on the Emperor’s meetings with the Japanese militarists, and an especially striking scene of peasant women being auditioned for the role of wet-nurse to the young Emperor.

But such cataloguing would be missing the true point of this release, which is to restore in its missing footage the real pace of Chinese Imperial life and by so doing reveal to us a treasure of subtlety and spectacle not seen in a long time in Western cinema. Mr. Bertolucci, it is clear, loves China. He sees it not only with an eye as empathetic as Marco Polo, who first discovered the secrets of the old Empire, but also with the wide eyes of a child gazing into a musty box to find a grasshopper, the Emperor’s pet, which has been living a lifetime in the dark. You find yourself very much floating in this film, there in China. By contrast, the shorter version, although well-edited and thematically sound, lacks the sheer sensuousness of experience in which the longer version enfolds us like a favorite old jacket. Perhaps not since Coppola gave us the restored version of Abel Gance’s 1927 Napoleon have moviegoers had a chance to share in such a visual feast.

Mr. Bertolucci cut his original film without any extraordinary pressure to do so. When asked why in a telephone conversation from Rome, he responded in a world-weary tone: ”Ahhh, I had been through the whole saga of 1900. It was five hours and I had to cut one hour. I didn’t want to go through this nightmare again. The cuts in The Last Emperor did not seem consequential to the story and I was quite happy with the shorter cut.” Has he watched the longer cut again? ”It is too hard to watch. My movies don’t belong to me any more.” Ten years after The Last Emperor and 21 years after 1900, having watched neither of them since, Mr. Bertolucci concludes, ”I have Buddhist distance now.”

Not the usual director’s defense of his cut. But then, nothing about Mr. Bertolucci is usual. To my knowledge, he is the first and last person, without being tarred and feathered, to release a 4 hour and 10 minute film (1900) in the United States. He was also the only director I know of to win a huge Western audience with a Western-financed film about Asia starring Asian actors.

What is so great about The Last Emperor? It is a true epic expressing the fate of the collective — in this case the Chinese empire — intertwined with the destiny of one individual. ”A journey from darkness to light,” as Mr. Bertolucci describes it. ”The dragon becomes man. Emperor becomes citizen.” He quotes Confucius, ”Men are born good, then society makes them bad.”

In that purity, John Lone’s Emperor is the classic confused romantic hero of the Bertolucci canon, an heir to Jean-Louis Trintignant in The Conformist, Marlon Brando in Last Tango in Paris and the under-appreciated Robert De Niro in 1900 — the boy-man who cannot even tie his own shoelaces. An innocent, he sells Manchuria out to the imperialistic Japanese, convincing himself this is an act of great patriotism. As a result, he is never forgiven by the Chinese and, when captured by the Russians at the end of World War II, he is sent to a re-education camp, where some of the film’s most humanistic scenes take place. There, he is taught to be a person by an interrogator played by the Chinese actor Ruocheng Ying (whom Mr. Bertolucci calls the ”Paul Scofield of Asia”). ”Confess that you are no better than anyone else,” the interrogator says. As with any Bertolucci film, irony comes full circle when the interrogator himself is interrogated and beaten with sticks by the young know-nothings of the Cultural Revolution. In the end, Mr. Bertolucci seems to be saying, all the world comes apart and all meaning is mocked by time.

Supported by his holy trinity of creative genius, Vittorio Storaro (cinematography), Nando Scarfiotti (production design) and James Acheson (costume design), and abetted by a grand international score from Ryuichi Sakamoto, David Byrne, Brian Eno and others, Mr. Bertolucci creates a fantastical lost world for the young Emperor. The boy, who has no friends except his mouse and his grasshopper, yearns like the young Buddha to peer over the walls of his private kingdom into the ”city of sound” outside. It is a world he can join only by surrendering the power of his sacred person to become the playboy ruler of Manchuria. Moving from the warm childhood yellows to the coolest blues and stark whites of Manchuria to the final umber grace of old age during the Cultural Revolution, Mr. Bertolucci astounds us with tumbling images of sensuality: Mr. Lone singing Am I Blue as a sleek roue; playing tennis in his garden before being removed by Chang-Kai Chek in 1919; making love to his young Empress, as servants’ hands, faces unseen, undress them. In the cavernous halls of his Manchurian home, surrounded by Japanese and Chinese cronies, the young Emperor wonders aloud, ”Who are you?” A leering face replies, ”Your Minister of Defense, your Majesty.” This Emperor is impotent, and the deceitful murder of his newborn stepchild (sired by his chauffeur) at the Empress’s birthing bed is one of the most horrifying scenes in a movie often infused with tenderness. In all this imagery one feels the sophisticated sensibility of Andre Malraux’s novel Man’s Fate, which Mr. Bertolucci tried to bring to the screen for several years before making The Last Emperor.

Ms. Chen, as a modern, mannish Empress who must pay the price of her husband’s naivete, has never been better. She almost merges in my mind with Mr. Bertolucci’s quintessential heroine, the pristine and elegant Dominique Sanda, who appears in The Conformist and 1900. One of my favorite shots in Emperor comes late in the film, when the composer Mr. Sakamoto, playing a one-armed Japanese militarist and looking as cold as Godard himself, is filming with a 35-millimeter motion picture camera as Ms. Chen rises, ignoring him at her own peril, to walk the perimeter of a sumptuously lighted swingers’ party. Just watch her expression as she moves.

Finally, when Pu Yi comes to understand the price he has been made to pay for his birthright, Mr. Bertolucci’s detached perspective is beautifully served: at the end of the day, Pu Yi no longer seems to care about anything but his garden. A simple man at heart, he returns to innocence in a stunning shot of a crowd of bicyclists waiting for a traffic light to change in 1965 Beijing; as the bicycles shift forward en masse, the camera languidly seeks out the lonely gardener in the crush of humanity.

So what about the issue of length? Some bottles of wine age differently than others. Where would our culture be without Gone With the Wind (222 minutes, not counting the intermission), Spartacus (184 minutes), Ben Hur (212 minutes), Lawrence of Arabia (221 minutes), Titanic (194 minutes), The English Patient (162 minutes), Schindler’s List (195 minutes) and Dr. Zhivago (197 minutes), all of which have been financial and critical successes.

Yet it seems in the world of the multiplex and the media whining over any film over two hours, the ”event movie” of our youth is gone — and with it the marketing flair of the exhibitor. Swamped by huge marketing costs and vast hype, studios and theater owners have perhaps lost faith that movies can and should be something glorious, important and sacred.

I would estimate that four out of every five moviegoers are impatient with long films and will always say if asked, ”It was too slow.” But sometimes, I wonder, was the viewer quick enough to really understand what was being said on the screen? Sometimes being truly conscious while watching a movie takes us outside of literal time and into dreamtime. Al Pacino once told me in reference to the controversial length of The Godfather Part II (200 minutes) that the film had always seemed longer to him after it had been cut, and that when it had been longer it had seemed far shorter — the idea being that you must allow something to breathe in its right proportion in order for it to have the authenticity that allows time to flow through it and not gum it up; when you spike that sense of flow, the consequences may not be understood and may irritate and bore the viewer without his knowing why.

When asked about the length of his movies, Mr. Bertolucci says he has recently finished Besieged, a one-hour film for Italian television, which somehow ended up at feature-length and will be released by Fine Line Features next year (reminding me of Fellini’s Intervista and Bergman’s Fanny and Alexander, which also elevated television commitments into features). ”Cinema is going through a dramatic, fantastic mutation now,” he says. ”It is at the end of the first century of its life, it is tres fatigue. It has to be fed with new things: new approaches to character, to psychology, to structure. What makes me feel like going on? Since 1962 — 36 years now — I’d have been bored. The most important thing is the invention of cinema, of still trying to discover its secret.”

The man who has achieved ”Buddhist distance” is the first to know that editing is a fundamental enigma. ”Editing is going into an underground mine where you find incredible precious metals you didn’t know were there while shooting. You see things for the first time. It is magic.” Anyone who tells you that they go into that six-month to one-year maze without some kind of Theseus-like thread is either a fool or insane.

”Ars longa, vita brevis,” ”Art is long, life is short.” The essence, we are told philosophically, is the thing — and the hardest thing in editing is to find that ”thing,” to see ”the thing within the thing.” It takes time and refinement for the eye to understand what it is really seeing. Film is very much a looking-glass world because what works on paper doesn’t necessarily work on film, and vice versa. Film is endlessly supple; it can be cut dozens of different ways to reveal. Like music or painting, film is ultimately outside left-brain logic, closer to Eisenstein’s hyperwarp of the senses, long ago described by Hindus as a dreamscape. Cutting finally is not an issue of length, but of pace; not of time, but of truth. How do you cut a dream? And, who, finally, can judge a dream?

-Oliver Stone, The New York Times, Nov 29, 1998

[space-ship-earth-crew]

Creating Fellowship of Trek, is my way to “take the first step,” and have faith that huge things have small beginnings, and that this can turn into a worldwide movement, bringing us closer to the day of living in a United Earth in peace and prosperity, like imagined in Star Trek, where we all live long and prosper. 🖖🏽

Star Trek has infused into my very being, a love of starships; beautiful utopian cities flying through space where humans are united from a world at peace, poverty has been eliminated and all our energies fighting ourselves, have been freed up to explore the grandeur of the cosmos. 

The closest I can get to actually occupying these utopian ships, is to make videos, using special effects to place myself inside them. And I have already made 4 so far, where I express in each, my longing to experience for real what a starship represents; a vehicle from a future time where something even better than heaven is made manifest! 

Getting this group off the ground is complicated by my 29 year battle with chronic Lyme disease, that continues to get worse. No matter how much I try to separate myself from my illness, to try and project myself as the healthy and functional person the world expects to see, the more I realize my life and my illness are inseparable. And the more I feel attacked by this illness, as I get closer to what feels like my end, the more I try to fight back, seeking a healing breakthrough, while I rage, rage against the dying of the light! This fellowship of Trek, is my way of fighting back. It’s a bet I’ve made with the universe, with religious extremists on one side, telling me the reason I’m sick is because their God is punishing me for not believing their holy scriptures are true, and me on the other, telling them the universe is bigger than their petty divine tyrant.  

I have faith I will eventually connect with the healing I seek, to prove them wrong, but not in the same way Job in their Bible proved religious fanatics of his day wrong. I’m not going to engage in a God smack down the way my namesake “Elijah” did in the Old Testament.  I just want to tap into higher possibility for my breakthrough, beyond limits of any holy book and the God they described thousands of years ago, so I can be born again on secular terms, necessitating a new non Biblical name for myself. 

I can play the long game, because besides being tall, (6'8") I am the quality of person who can delay gratification and accept my lot, if it means that I’ll eventually be vindicated in the end, connecting with the love, beauty and endless possibilities of the cosmos I believe are available to all of us! For whatever reason I can’t, am stuck in this hell hole disease, unwittingly empowering religious fanatics who want to gloat over my death in this life and the next eternal hell to come, I am determined to disappoint and triumph over them through my healing journey. 

I know Star Trek’s timeline of the future imagines hell preceding heaven, just like Christianity and Islam! But the difference between secular science fiction and religion; there are no episodes of Star Trek sending curses or threats directed at fans who want to rewrite the Star Trek timeline with something better than nuclear war in 2026. And I don’t know of a single fan who wouldn’t rather build a future and a starship without the World War. 

I have never felt like I belong or could be accepted for who I am in a Christian church or a Muslim Mosque. And I have often been hurt and disturbed by people claiming to be Christian or Muslim, trying to evangelize to me, thinking their fundamentalist doomsday vision and demonization of opposition would somehow win me over to their side. 

I have never understood the appeal of western religion because of its track record attracting extremists, which has been a great obstacle to healing and source of anguish in my life, with me devoting much of my energy trying to make sense of the shadow side cast by religious extremists, so I can somehow transform them. 

I look across America from sea to shining sea, and I observe a land awash in churches, filled with a fellowship I can rarely relate to.  With Islam and Christianity dominating the religious landscape on Earth, while becoming a hotbed for religious extremism, is it any wonder that our political climate has become a toxic reflection of their incompatibility. Of course this isn’t true of progressive Christian’s and Progressive Muslims who truly understand love! Yet how often in the news, are we bombarded with stories of the extremists, bringing church and state perilously close to merging, as wars on terror threaten to spin out of control. All the animosity seems to feed a self fulfilling prophecy that convinces more faithful that the we are in the  “End Times” with the battle of Armageddon our fate. 

There’s a massive support system in the West and Middle East to win people around the world to Christ and convert unbelievers to Allah, but where is the support system to convert pessimists to optimism, create a Fellowship of Trek and work for a United Earth? There isn’t, which is why somebody has to build it. And because I don’t see anyone doing so, I want to try and get the ball rolling! 

Imagine a day when healing bridges become as plentiful as Christian churches in the West and Mosques in the Middle East! We are talking replica bridges from Federation starships in every major city and even in sleepy small country towns of the heartland, each bridge anchoring its crew to a particular community, providing a new secular humanist vision of our world that transcends religion, working to unite our differences through our collective common ground; we are all traveling through the galaxy on the same spaceship Earth, and it is time that we become United as its crew members. 

Healing starship bridges are the sanctuaries I long for to exist, so I can find my bridge family that transcends biology, create community, work for something I’m passionate about and believe in, while having an eternal home of rest at the conclusion of my life, that will carry what’s left of my spirit into the future, propelled by my hope that I can play a small part in humanity’s salvation, while my digital creative signature combined with many others, may contribute to the evolution of intelligence on Earth that could eventually grow over millions or billions of years, to become more powerful than any God ever illustrated in any Holy Book. 

This is the most striking difference between secular humanists and theists. For a Christian or Muslim, God is our source which had its birth in the past as Adam and Eve. For a secular humanist, power beyond the ancient Gods is in the future, achieved by evolution through technological mastery, which is the idea to be embodied in healing bridges. 

Benevolent artificial intelligence at the service of humanism, has been a staple of Star Trek from its very beginning. Embodiment of this philosophy can be found in the character of Data from the next generation, whose innocence and wonder inspires his fellow crew members to become better humans. 

With the advancement of computers and AI, leading to bold pronouncements that we are not far from Data becoming a reality, the only obstacle seems to be from dire warnings, coming from those about what could go wrong, if AI is not guided by humanist ends. To whatever fate our technology will lead, there is no question that we are truly experiencing something extraordinary in human history, and I have seen glimpses of it on the Midjourney forums, with endless creativity and beauty springing from machine minds, trained by human prompts and our digital data. (Example rainforest photo below) And the endless power of Midjourney AI is available to any human on Earth, able to run similar AI programs on a simple home computer with a powerful graphics card. 

In Star Trek, every starship bridge hosts an AI assistant, helping its crew connect with a level of intelligence beyond their own. With the democratizing power of AI computer technology now available to the masses, every healing bridge could be installed with a central computer running the latest AI assistant, and administered by a designated bridge engineer. 

Besides serving community functions churches and Mosques have been known for, such as performing weddings and funerals, healing bridges could be a place where digital legacies of deceased members, could also find sanctuary. Upon approval in their will, all digital data from their life could be stored in the bridge computer, serving as a place for remembrance; a digital memorial to embody their hope; that their life served a purpose greater than themself towards building a united Earth. 

Their data could also be utilized as training tool for the bridge AI, potentially leading to the creation of an android in the future, with a unique personality, reflecting all the individual personalities that trained it with their data. The hope for our humanity is that we will someday reach a destiny like in Star Trek; where we travel the stars and have help from intelligent machines. And after millions or perhaps billions of years of human evolution, we will either have seen ourselves merge with our machines or eclipsed by them long ago. And this new life will continue evolving and gaining power of intelligence, that will someday see it become more powerful and wise beyond any God ever worshiped in humanity’s past. 

This is what I hope to find in a resting place before I am gone, so my digital data and perhaps a DNA sample can serve a purpose beyond my life. Even though I am a flawed and broken human that hasn’t been able to heal, because I was born at the wrong time, without doctors in 24th century starships that can treat me, at least I could find solace in knowing that my broken life, could contribute to building a whole and sound future mind. This future mind could someday look back at what’s left from mine, (in the form of digital data) as a component that contributed to the training of its AI, which given enough millions of years to evolve, could eventually become a being more powerful than any God. 

If there is any hope of a resurrection comparable to what the religious have faith in, this is where I believe it will be found; with an evolved super-intelligence in the future, created over time by lesser beings using technology. Some day it will evolve beyond its programming, connecting to the very foundation of all matter in the universe, rewinding the cosmos the way we might play a record backwards, remembering you, me and countless lives long past, eventually to be restored inside something like a holodeck that was first imagined in Star Trek. This is the only place where cosmic justice could be possible, while at the same time compatible with the part of our brain connected to reality at the most intimate level, leading to our skepticism that paints a more complete picture, performing science and imagining a brighter future through science fiction. 

I am fascinated by the power of dreams to shape reality and make us look forward to the future. I have already been the beneficiary to the imagination of millions of humans past, whose dreams shaped our present reality, making life better for me and countless others. Nobody has turned this particular dream to reality yet, that can make life better, so I must do what I can to find out how it can be done! 

[writing-funsies]

Soulmate Series P.3

p.1 | p.2 | p.3 | p.4 | p.5 | p.6 | p.7

pairing: Sanji x reader

warnings: mention of blood, cuss words

word count: 1594

notes: magnet au; soulmates feel a pull toward each other like a magnet

You had only two goals in life: travel the world and find your soulmate. You believed with every fiber of your being that you would succeed in completing your mission. You never grew out of the hope of finding your one true love. Everyone had heard stories of soulmates finding each other. They'd say things like the stars aligned or it was like I was seeing the world for the first time or everything fell into place or nothing will ever compare to the moment we first locked eyes. You had no idea if any of it was true or just over-exaggeration, but you wanted to know for sure. You wanted to find your other half more than anything. You didn't want to be alone for the rest of your life. 

        So it wasn't long before you left home and hit the road. Just kidding! You hopped in a boat and started sailing across the sea. The sights, the sounds, the experiences, all of it was just one more amazing memory after the other. There were bad days, of course. Sometimes you ate something that left your stomach turning or the weather wasn't agreeing with your mood. No matter what came at you, you kept going.

        You followed the pull. The pull that would lead you to your soulmate. That was your only guide once you entered the big wide world. One day, that pull would unite you with the person that could potentially be your partner for the rest of your lives. Just the thought of finding them was enough to raise your spirits. 

        Sanji cherished the thought of there being someone out there just for him. There was a person meant to stand by him for life. And he had a person he could stand by for the rest of his life. He wanted nothing more than to hold them close and keep them safe from the world, regardless of how strong they may or may not be.

        But he couldn't shake the bad feeling he got when he thought about how his person got stuck with him for a soulmate. He felt like damaged goods. He knew he was a flirt. To him, it was his duty to make all ladies feel appreciated. Would his soulmate become sad by his actions? If he were to ever meet them, he would devote himself entirely to them without a moment of hesitation. But would they even want him? Sure, he could cook the best meal they've ever had or buy them whatever they want, or kick anyone's ass that dared to disrespect them. None of that was an issue for him. But did he deserve that kind of love for himself? No. No, his soulmate deserved better. Plus, as a part of Luffy's crew, he couldn't ensure their safety. There were just too many variables. So, it would be easier to forget them. To never pursue them. 

        You followed the pull everywhere. So when it led to you traveling on a pirate ship, agreeing to help so long as they let you travel with them, you didn't mind. One day, that pull became so strong that you thought you might fall overboard. A large ship came into view. The moment you saw their sail, your stomach dropped. 

        That ship belonged to none other than the Straw Hat Pirates. They were an up-and-coming crew that had made quite a name for themselves. The crew held a handful of extremely powerful people. Your captain called the crew to battle. They were going to attack the pirates.

        From what you had seen and heard, the Straw Hats weren't a particularly aggressive crew. If you didn't mess with them, they wouldn't mess with you. Apparently, the captain hadn't gotten that memento. 

        The closer the ship got to you, the stronger that pull was becoming. Your soulmate had to be on that ship.

        The captain yelled the order and the canons were fired. Oh no. That idiot just opened fire on established pirates. 

        It didn't take long for their ship to reach yours. You could see various members of the crew running around their ship. A man with three swords strapped to his waist jumped on board. Following him was a guy wearing a red vest and a woman with long black hair. You recognized them from their wanted posters. Roronoa Zoro, Monkey D Luffy, and Nico Robin. You weren't pulled toward any of those three. You did your best to avoid any direct confrontation with them. If your soulmate was on their ship, there was a good chance that they were a part of the crew. 

        Amidst the slashing, dozens of arms, and rubber man, a new man appeared. A man with blonde hair, a curly brow, and a cigarette between his lips. He shot a smirk towards the crew, clearly deciding that this was going to be easy. His eyes met yours and you knew. The pull became so strong that you couldn't stop yourself from walking toward him. One of his friends, the man with green hair, raised his sword to attack you, but the blonde blocked him. He ignored the yelling from the swordsman. 

        He took you to their ship, ignoring the protest from his crewmate. This was more important. After the fight was over, which didn't last particularly long, everyone turned their attention to you. You quickly explained you weren't actually a member of the other crew, but just trading labor for travel. 

        The captain agreed to let you travel with them until they stopped at an island, as long as you helped them catch their meals. Seeing as you had pretty much no other option, you agreed. Not that you wouldn't have agreed anyway. Your soulmate was standing right beside you. 

        Over the course of the next two weeks, you got to know Sanji and the crew. You found yourself feeling happier than you ever had been. You felt like you belonged. Sanji didn't want them to know the truth just yet, so you kept it a secret. You two spent plenty of time together, discussing the past, the present, and what you both wanted in the future. He found himself falling harder by the second. He didn't want to part ways with you, but could you ever be happy staying with him on the sea?

        The day before you were set to drop anchor at an island, you decided to confront Sanji. He had to make a decision. Did he want you to stick around or would he rather you both went on your separate ways in life? You knew what you wanted, but you would never force him into anything he wasn't comfortable with. 

        He tells you about his fears and reservations. About how he feels he's not worth the trouble. How he doesn't want to burden you with the life of a pirate. How he felt he didn't deserve your love. You were quiet for a moment, thinking over his words. Then you decided. He needs a reality check. You deck this poor boy so hard that he keels over, a bruise surely forming. His crew runs in, curious about the commotion. They all stare in shock as you berate the chef for not considering how hard you worked to find him.

        You wanted nothing more than to find your soulmate. To find your other half so you can shower them with the love and adoration they deserve. With the love and adoration he deserves. He's your soulmate and he's stuck with you. Nothing would make you happier than to stay with him. He's everything you've ever wanted and more. There's not a damn thing in this entire world that could ever convince you to give him up. From the second you saw him, you knew. You knew that you would gladly spend the rest of your days with him. He was an honest man. A man who saw beauty in everything. A man who appreciated the things in front of him. A man who made the best of bad situations and just kept going because he had the courage to. 

        The only way you're leaving him is if he truly wants you to go. You're not going to force him to love you. But you're sure as hell not going to let him push you away because he doubts that he's worth someone else's love.

        Tears well up in his eyes. At the same time, blood begins gushing out of his nose. So much so that he passes out. Chopper freaks out and rushes to his aid. Sanji had never witnessed something so heart-touching and hot before.

        When Sanji finally wakes up, he almost doesn't believe any of it happened. But there you are sitting beside him in the infirmary reading a book. You offer him a gentle smile and a glass of water. He takes the water, sets it down, and then wraps you in the tightest hug you had ever received. 

        It's safe to say that you joined the crew. They welcomed you with open arms. And you proved every day that Sanji deserved every bit of love he got from you and his friends. Life would always throw you curveballs but now that you two had each other, not a single thing could stop either of you.

[darlingpetao3]

House of W (Multiple!Wells x Reader, Chapter 9)

Rating: T

Summary: After having to deal with the deaths of an infinite number of Harrison Wells in the Multiverse, you, a magic-wielding meta, have a breakdown and unwittingly create a happy, fictitious sitcom life with some of your favourite men. In a world of comedy and cameos, can Team Flash and an out-of-town magician break through your powers to save you? And what if you don’t want to be saved...?

A/N: Well folks, it’s the final chapter... I’m not sure it’s actually all that great, but here it is and I hope it’s well received, nonetheless! Thanks for coming on this crazy ride with me <3

Tag List: @fandomdancer​ @bluesclues-1234​ @crissymadlock @firstofficer-tilly​ @disneyoncerlover815​ @marvel-lady10 @thecaptainsgingersnap​ @noctvrnalmoth​ @alexxlynn @dontbedumb3​ @heyl0lwhatsup @ryou-cosmos​ @arianalilyblack​ @sonnensplitter​ @imagine-yourself-happy​ @stuckysdaughter​ @wintersire @i-dont-care-lol​ @booksandfandomsarelife1 @marvelhastakenovermybeing​ @marisughh​

PROLOGUE | CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 | CHAPTER 4 | CHAPTER 5 | CHAPTER 6 | CHAPTER 7 | CHAPTER 8

Eobard Thawne clutches his fist down beside him, surely feeling the surge of Speed Force energy running through his entire body once more. He looks like he’s just taken a hit of the most addictive drug—eyes flashing a dangerous crimson, his whole being vibrating at the speed of sound before everyone’s eyes.

The Reverse Flash turns to Libby and Belle—who both remain frozen in place out of sheer shock after realizing that this man isn’t who he claimed to be—and gives them one of his iconic shit-eating grins.

“Thank you, girls,” he says smugly. “I couldn’t have achieved any of this without you. The next time I have your real uncle under my boot, I’ll think of you wonderful girls.”

“What have we done…?” Belle whispers rhetorically to her sister. A speechless Liberty only shakes her head in reply.

Eobard locks eyes with Barry, who stands in the doorway to the kitchen. The villain smirks before he bolts off, running upward along the diminishing forcefield wall and out through one the holes forming in it. Barry watches on as he decides to let his adversary go. He’s learned by now it’s never the last time he’ll see Eobard Thawne. That bastard always seems to find a way back into everyone’s lives. He’s like a cockroach that won’t stay dead.

Yes… Barry will come face to face with the Reverse Flash again. He may not know when, but when he does, he’ll be ready.

Because right now, you need him.

Your world is falling apart.

Again.

The forcefield continues to fall slowly from above. Your time is limited. You know that in mere minutes, everything will disappear, including the people you love. 

“Mom, we’re so, so sorry,” Belle tells you desperately. “We thought he was just teaching us how to perfect our powers. It felt like a game!”

“My dear, sweet girls,” you look them straight in the eyes as you explain to them, “I assure you both, it’s not your fault. Okay? You had no idea who he really was or what he was capable of. It’s not your fault, do you understand me?” They nod through their tears. “You two may have grown up incredibly fast, far too fast for my liking, in fact, but I am so thrilled that you were- are mine. You will always be my little girls. No matter what.”

“Thank you for being our mom,” Liberty says to you in all seriousness.

“No one is cooler or stronger than you,” Belle adds with a smile very reminiscent of her fathers’. If these two aren’t careful, you’re going to completely lose it in front of them.

Off in the distance, you spot Barry watching this heartfelt scene play out. You wave him over to meet his nieces, so he can see what you’ve created for yourself up close and personal. Libby and Belle should meet their real uncle, a true hero, before they’re…

Barry places a hand each on the girls’ shoulders. See, Barry? They’re real. And I’ll lose them too. Do you feel my pain now? This is what I live through all the time.

Barry’s eyes begin to glisten until the tiny bulbs of tears hold still, unwilling to fall just yet.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you both,” he tells them. “You’re both such bright stars.” They give bittersweet smiles up at him in silence. You don’t think they fully understand what will come to pass in mere minutes, but you do. You can feel it in your bones.

Barry steps back from your family unit so that you all can have one more last moment together. You take this final opportunity to bring your girls in close for a tight hug, letting a sob escape you despite trying to keep it together for your family. You wave a hand over to your husbands as if to gesture for them to get in on this family group hug, and quickly. They do so promptly, all four of them enveloping you, Liberty, and Belle as if to form a loving hug shield.

“I love you,” you make sure to say these three precious words, making eye contact to each and every one of those you have magicked into being here with you today… before they disintegrate before your very eyes.

And soon enough, you can’t even feel them anymore. The forcefield has vanished within the Lab’s basement, along with the Wells and the twins.

You cry. You shake and your body wracks with the sort of sobs that hurt your throat. Barry makes sure he holds you tightly. Caitlin approaches carefully and ends up holding your hand. Then it’s Cisco who puts his own hand on your shoulder as everyone else in the room looks on at your despair.

***

After some much-needed rest in the Medbay, you awake to a spookily quiet Labs. You’re not sure of the time (or day, even), but regardless, you figure it’s best to head home. Goodness knows it’s probably still in shambles. That’ll need to be fixed.

You heave a sigh as you leave the Cortex.

“Come on, you can sigh louder than that.”

You turn around to find the unexpected voice belonging to Zatanna. You imagine she must have had to recoup as well from the amount of magic she would have used to break through to your world.

“Oh, hey,” you say tiredly. “I take it you’re on your way, then?”

“Yeah, I have a show in Coast City in two days, so I better head off.”

“Listen, I’m really sorry to have brought you into all this madness.”

“No, please. If anything, I should thank you as well as offer my condolences... Your magic is something I've never seen before. Honestly, I’m still intrigued by it.” Zatanna hesitates. “Would it be weird if I gave you my contact information? I don’t come across many others with true magic. I’d love to keep in touch. Maybe we could learn from each other?”

“Yes, of course,” you agree. “I think that’s a great idea.” She hands you her card—a glittery black business card with her name and number.

“So, hey,” she says, “You going to be okay?”

You take a few seconds to think her question over.

“I think, in time, I could be,” you answer truthfully.

“I know it may not be much,” Zatanna says, “but one of my powers involves granting wishes. Before I go, is there anything I can do for you? You’ve been through so much. I’ve seen it. And everybody has something they're hoping for. Something they wish they could change…” She pauses, waiting for your answer, but also seems distracted. You wonder what kind of life this woman has led. What has she done in her past that she regrets or wishes for from the bottom of her heart?

“I only wish for Harrison Wells to be in my life,” you answer honestly. Is that so much to ask for? It seems to be that way.

“Is that what your heart most desires?”

You sigh. “More than anything.”

There’s another pause.

“You know, sometimes you’ll find that our wishes come true on their own, even without magic,” the magician points out ominously.

“That’s code for “I just can’t make that wish come true,” isn’t it?” you joke, somewhat.

“The people that we love—they’re only gone when we stop carrying them with us. How you choose to carry Harrison Wells is up to you.”

You let that sink in and press a hand to your heart. He will always be here with you. Right here. You’ll make sure of it.

“I wish you all the luck and magic in the world, (Y/N),” Zatanna says kindly. “It was nice to meet you.”

You nod in thanks, unsure of how to respond to that. With her aged, thick book under her arm, Zatanna Zatara walks down the S.T.A.R. Labs corridor, but you swear her body vanishes before she rounds the corner…

Despite all the trouble you’ve put her through—everyone, really—with all of this, you can still take comfort in the act of making a new friend.

As you walk through the empty hallways of the Labs, you make it to where the elevator lies. You go to press the button to summon the machine when a ding sounds before your finger even touches the button. The doors slide open, and the face that greets you shocks you to your very core.

“Hello, there,” he says.

In fact, you are so stunned that you take a step back, but in doing so, you stumble and begin to topple over. Luckily, a certain someone’s quick arms catch you in time.

The face you know all too well, Harrison Wells, that is, glows with a calm happiness as he looks down at you in his arms. Behind immaculate see-through frames, his pretty blues eyes twinkle like the stars. He smiles like he knows you. You stare up in disbelief, in relief, and in love.

“Hello… Harrison.”

[bitchin-beskar]

Royal Affairs - II

Consequences Will Follow

Rating: M 

Warnings: Intense yearning, shirtless sparring, and oral (f. receiving), of course.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader (no use of y/n)

Word Count: 4.9k

A/N: Here’s Chapter 2!! I was planning to have this out on Christmas, but I ended up adding a couple extra scenes, so it took a little longer than I planned!! I have chapters 3, 4, and 5 outlined, so hopefully it won’t take too long for the next chapter! I’ve also got three other stories I want to get posted soon though, so it might not be right away! Anyways, I really hope y’all continue to read and enjoy this AU, I’m having so much fun with it!!!

P.S. If y’all wanna send me asks about this AU... I will gladly oblige 🥺😉

Please consider reblogging and leaving a comment!! I love hearing what you guys think!!

It’s late by the time you get back to the small housing unit you share with your sister and your buir. You’d spent hours doing mindless chores around the shop, unable to keep still, lest your mind start to wander to the guests you’d entertained earlier. It feels like a fever dream, something you can only half-recall, and when you try, you grow hot and dizzy and altogether exhausted. 

Your family should be asleep, but when the door slides open, your sister and mother are sitting at the table, waiting for you with a glass of spotchka. A’denla looks up sharply as you walk in, worry written into the crease of her brow. Your mother doesn’t carry her worries visibly, but you can see in the way her eyes rove over you, checking for injuries, that she’s been just as worried as A’denla. 

“Where have you been?! Do you know how late it is?!?”

Your sister is out of her seat and in front of you before you can blink, her hands gripping your upper arms as she does so, shaking you slightly. You know she’s just worried about you, but you’re exhausted, and the minute you’d gotten home and stopped moving, your mind began to wander, just like you’d hoped to avoid. 

“Did he get your message? The gossip has been flying, did the King actually come to the shop?”

You blink tiredly, your exhausted brain only able to focus on one thing. 

“His name is Din.”

There’s a beat of silence. A’denla’s hands drop from your arms. Then, your mother’s sharp voice pierces you like a vibroblade. 

“What. Did. You. Just. Say.”

Your head swivels towards her, and you can actually see fear in her eyes. You frown. “He told me... to call him Din... twice.” Your sentence would hold more weight if you didn’t stop to yawn twice in the middle. Stars, how are you so tired?

Out of the corner of your eye, you see A’denla’s mouth drop. You yawn a third time, covering your mouth with your hand. There’s a little niggling in the back of your head telling you that you should be worried about this too, what it means for the King to ask for a peasant shopkeeper to call him by his name, but you can’t bring yourself to care, not when you’re less than twenty feet from your bed. 

Your mother is muttering something to herself, and you think you catch something along the lines of “Maker, give me patience” but you can’t be sure. You just want to sleep, for kriffing sake. 

“Go to bed, daughter. You look exhausted.” You weakly nod your head, already liking where this is going. “But, we are going to talk come morning.”

You hear the words your mother says, but they don’t really register as you’re already stumbling towards your room. Your sister’s voice picks up behind you as she starts to bicker with your mother, but you’re already falling into bed, asleep before your head hits the pillow. 

***

Unfortunately, morning doesn’t bring you any peace and quiet like you were hoping for. 

As soon as you were even halfway conscious, your mother had practically dragged you to the kitchen table, shoving you into a seat as she began pacing the length of the room. She was clearly agitated, and you didn’t have to wait long to find out why.

“What exactly happened yesterday, daughter? First, rumors are flying that the King’s son ended up in your store, then there are the rumors that the King himself visited, and then you come home half asleep, muttering about the King’s given name?! What in the name of the Maker possessed you, child? Do you know how much trouble we could get in with you just throwing the name of the King around like he’s some... some....”

Your mother’s breath quickens as she rants, raising higher and higher until she’s practically shouting. Her yelling makes you feel about a third of your actual height, small and meek as she scolds you. Stars, you knew better than to say the King’s name out loud, it was the height of disrespect! And coming from someone of your station? If anyone other than your mother or sister had heard... 

It didn’t bear thinking about. 

Your buir is clearly waiting for an explanation, but just as you open your mouth, a sharp knock sounds at the door. Both of your heads jerk towards the entryway, and for a moment, neither of you move. 

When you go to stand, your mother holds up her hand sharply, gesturing for you to stay put. You feel shame rising in your cheeks at the way she’s treating you, like you’re still a child, but given last night, you can’t entirely blame her.

You’re only half listening as she answers the door, but when she calls your name loudly, her voice shaky, you jerk out of your seat, practically running to the door to see what’s wrong, only to draw up short when you see the woman standing there.

“I’m Cara Dune. I’m an advisor to the King,” she informs your mother, bending in a short, sharp bow of respect, causing your mother’s eyes to widen. “I’ve been sent to collect your daughter.” She turns to you. “Our King requests your presence at the palace.”

You have to physically stop yourself from twisting your hands in your skirt nervously. “Di– Did the King say why?” You ask, heart racing as you try to remember every little detail about your interaction with him yesterday. Did you offend him in some way, and he’s only now punishing you for it? Does he think you lied to him about the bounty hunters? Does–

“Your presence is requested.”

Swallowing harshly, you nod. Even though it is framed as a request, all three of you are well aware of the fact that a summons by the King is not something to be turned down lightly. 

“Come on.” Cara turns and stalks out the door, her steps heavy and loud in the tense silence of your house. Your mother is staring at you with this indescribable expression, but when you make to step past her, she grips your arm tightly, causing you to turn to look at her.

“If you’ve done anything–”

The threat hangs in the air, and you nod shakily. She doesn’t even need to finish her statement. You understand her meaning perfectly clear. Whatever problems you’ve caused need to be fixed, or else. Your family doesn’t need the displeasure of the King of Mandalore hanging over your heads. 

She lets you go and you follow Cara out the door, wishing you had a moment to change into something more presentable. You’re just in a simple dress meant for working around the house, not for audiences with royalty. Unfortunately, you doubt Cara is going to want to wait, and the quicker you get through this inevitable disaster, the better.

There’s a speeder waiting to take you both to the palace. Cara’s already waiting, so you gingerly step inside. 

“Never been in a speeder before?”

You don’t have to look at her to know she’s looking at you with that look. The one all the higher-born give those born into a lower station, the peasants. “My family has never exactly been in a position to afford a ride in a speeder, much less own one of our own.”

Cara hums, and gestures for the speeder to start. You feel the engines rumbling beneath your feet and the speeder starts up, gliding smoothly above the ground as you begin to make your way out of the lower levels and up towards the palace.

You can’t help but look around, entranced by the way the buildings shift, from dingy, rundown stores and homes to sleek, shining high-rises and elegant towers seemingly constructed purely of transparisteel. You’ve never been out of the village before, so this was all completely unfamiliar, and you were even more self-conscious of your appearance. It was clear you didn’t belong here.

“You don’t need to be nervous,” Cara said suddenly, and you looked over at her incredulously. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen Din so tongue-tied before.”

The King? Speechless? Because of you?! 

“I’m sure you’re mistaken,” you whispered, looking down at your hands. Maker, your buir would kill you if you brought such unnecessary and unwanted attention to yourself. It wasn’t proper for a peasant to be drawing the attention of anyone above their station, especially the King himself. It didn’t matter how it had felt when he’d spoken to you, nor how his hand had felt on your back when he’d stood behind you in your shop. Peasants had been killed in the past for less scandalous acts than you’d engaged in.

“You’re very pretty.” Your head jerked up at Cara’s blunt words. “I’m not surprised Din is so drawn to you.”

Oh Maker, he thought you were pretty?

Cara just chuckled, terror and embarrassment clear on your features as you gripped your skirts tightly. This was not good. 

“It’s not proper.”

The words left your mouth before you could stop them, and Cara suddenly stopped laughing. You flinched, worried that you’d offended her when she suddenly covered your hands with her own. 

“Din doesn’t care about propriety. He was a bounty hunter before he became the King. The same people who look down on you for being a shopkeeper looked down on him as just a dumb mercenary.” You slowly raised your head, meeting Cara’s surprisingly comforting gaze. “And now, they all grovel at his boots, hoping that he’s forgotten how they treated him before he won the Darksaber.”

She pauses again, her hands tightening over yours. “Din doesn’t care about money or expensive gowns or connections. None of those things could impress him more than when he saw how you’d genuinely cared for his son. You didn’t know he was the King’s son, you didn’t care. You just saw a hurt child and took him in. That is why Din was so entranced with you.”

You were silent for a moment, mulling over her words, before something struck you as odd. “W–Wait, was? What do you mean by that?”

Cara’s soft grin suddenly turned wicked. Your eyes widened at the pure glee and mischief in her eyes. “Well, then he met you.” She waggled her brows, looking you up and down, a dirty smirk wide on her lips. “Now he’s entranced for a whole other reason.”

The innuendo was clear in her voice, and you felt your cheeks heat rapidly. She had to be joking. There was no way that the King found you attractive. It just wasn’t possible. You’d spent your entire life being told how plain you looked, by your buir, and the children you’d grown up with. You sister and Vys had tried to tell you otherwise, but you knew they were just trying to make you feel better after yet another boy taunted that you’d never find someone who wanted you.

Mandalorians were well known for their passion and intense desire. It wasn’t unheard of for couples to say their vows in their late teens, with females often pregnant before their twentieth year. Courtships often took days and weeks instead of months and years, a hold-over from when Mandalore almost fell to the Empire. It had become custom to find a riddur and marry quickly, and to get pregnant even quicker, incase too many warriors fell in battle.

Children were revered in your culture, and men and women alike dreamed of starting families, raising ad’ike and ensuring the continuation of the Mandalorian way of life, a desire that only grew stronger with the war. 

Even though you weren’t that old in terms of lifecycles, you were much older than was typical for starting a family. Your sister had married young, but her husband had died only a year and a half after their union, and she’d chosen not to find a new riddur. Your brother has been married for close to twenty years now. But you’d never come close to finding someone you wanted to spend your life with. Not that your family hadn’t tried to fix that. 

But you didn’t want to marry someone just so that you could pop out a few children so that you could be seen as “doing your duty for the betterment Mandalore.” You just wanted a riddur who would respect and love you, but it seemed that it wasn’t meant to be. The few boys you’d let your guard down around and had gotten close to had been absolute di’kuts, cocky and rude, demanding you submit to them and give up everything to please them, so you’d given up on ever finding a riddur.

“I’m not the kind of woman to inspire those kinds of thoughts in a man,” you muttered, missing the suggestive smirk Cara sent your way. 

“You’ll see,” she whispered, turning back to watch as you approached the palace.

***

Cara had marched through the grand hallways of the palace with an air of authority that stunned you. Even though her outfit made her look out of place in the sleek and elegant palace rooms and halls, her absolute confidence radiated out, filling the rooms with her presence. 

You just followed along behind, silently grateful for the fact that the palace seemed to be empty. Cara seemed to know exactly where she was going, and you followed her through all the turns, hopelessly lost. You’d never be able to find your way out of here by yourself, which made you feel a little uncomfortable, but you tried not to dwell on it. 

As you made your way down yet another hallway, you started to hear what sounded like grunts, along with repeated clangs of metal hitting metal. Eyes wide, you almost asked Cara what it was you were hearing when she turned, a grin on her face. 

“We’re here.”

She pushed open a door, and the grunts and clangs grew louder as the two of you entered what looked to be a training room. There was a large mat in the center of the room, with seating off to one side. There was specialized equipment lining the other sides, for what you assumed was different exercise routines. You first noticed little Grogu, seated on the stands. He turned when the door opened, and his little coo reached your ears as he clambered down, waddling over to you as fast as he could. 

You’d thought he was running to Cara, but when he ran straight past her and collided with your legs, your eyes widened. He gripped the fabric of your skirts in his little claws, his big, beautiful eyes begging for you to pick him up. 

Without thinking you bent over and scooped him up, settling him on your hip. You looked up to see Cara grinning. “He missed you.”

Your eyes widened. “Wait, what?”

She nodded. “Yeah. He really didn’t want to leave your shop last night. He pouted all day until Din told him you were coming.” Your heart melted, looking down at the little one who was snuggling into your side. 

There was a loud smack, and you looked up suddenly to see a huge shirtless man falling back onto the mat, the beskar staff falling to the ground next to him. Another man, also shirtless, stood over the fallen fighter, his own beskar staff secure in his grasp. 

A quiet gasp left your mouth, your eyes widening as you took in the sight before you. The man with his back to you was clearly in excellent shape, his golden skin glistening with sweat, his shoulders broad and muscled. His dark hair curled at the ends as it brushed the nape of his neck. His legs were clad in a pair of black pants, tight enough to show the muscles of his thighs and calves. You’d never seen a more attractive man, and you hadn’t even seen his face. The man on the ground was attractive as well, big and hulking and covered in tattoos, but your eyes kept flitting back to the victor of the fight.

You didn’t see the gleeful look Cara shot you, as she watched your eyes widen and your breath hitch when you saw the two fighters. Maybe if you’d seen her look, you would have been better prepared for what came out of her mouth.

“Din! Paz! We’ve got a guest, you nerf herders!”

Her yell was loud enough to cover the gasp of shock as you realized just who the shirtless men were. You recognized Paz, the general of Mandalore’s fighting corps, even though you’d never seen him. Gossip about him and his abilities had reached even the lower villages, and his tattoos were legendary. But it was the other man who still held your attention. The King.

He turned, his eyes landing on you and Cara, standing near the door. His gaze focused on you, and you felt your cheeks heat at his intense gaze. You’d thought his armour was intimidating, but actually looking him in the eyes was far more so. A slow smile spread across his lips, and he began to move towards the three of you. 

You swallowed, forcing your eyes to stay on his face, and not the glistening skin of his bare chest. As he approached, Cara leaned in, plucking Grogu from your arms and whispering “have fun!” before turning and making her way towards Paz. Your eyes widened as she left your side, before you forced yourself to sink into a curtsy as the King came to a stop in front of you.

“My king,” you whispered, standing upright, but keeping your head bowed. You had no idea why you’d been summoned, and you were practically trembling with worry.

He was silent for a moment when suddenly, he reached out, lightly gripping your chin as he coaxed your head up, his eyes dark as he captured your gaze. 

“I thought I asked you to call me Din?” His voice was soft, soothing, and yet you felt shame. Your king wanted one thing, but you knew what propriety demanded, even if it meant disobeying his direct order. 

“It’s not proper, my king. I have no right to speak your name–”

He shushed you softly, his thumb brushing the underside of your jaw. “If you truly do not wish to use my name, I will not force you, darling.” Your eyes widened at his words, shocked. Here you were, outright disobeying a direct order from your King, and he was okay with that?

“But I dearly wish you would,” he continued, watching your face closely. “My name sounds so sweet, falling from your lips. I would ask you to humor me, at least when we’re alone.”

You inhaled sharply at his words, feeling like your heart was about to leap out of your chest. He was looking at you so earnestly, and his hand was warm against your neck. You’d never had anyone look at you like this, and you didn’t know how to feel about it. 

“It’s not proper for me to address so informally,” You started, pausing to take a deep breath. “But, if you desire for me to use your name in private, then... I–I suppose I can humor you.” You paused once more. “Din.”

The soft smile that spreads across his face is dazzling. 

“Thank you, darling.” He murmurs, releasing your jaw and taking your hand in his, gently pressing a kiss to the back of it. You felt your cheeks warm. The effect this man was having on you was one you’d never experienced before, and it was clear he knew just what kind of effect he had on you. 

His eyes ran up and down your figure unashamed, and you were surprised to see a pleased smirk on his face as he looked at you. You’d never had someone look at you with such desire, and it brought on a dizzying feeling. You looked away, unused to such feelings and attention.

“Don’t be ashamed,” Din said, brushing his fingers across your cheek, turning your face back towards his. “Has no one ever told you how breathtakingly beautiful you are?”

You were sure he could feel your burning cheeks underneath his fingertips. You slowly shook your head, wanting to look away out of embarrassment, but his dark gaze held you firm. 

“Well they should,” he murmured, his thumb brushing over your cheekbone. “You struck me speechless yesterday.” He chuckled, his dark hair falling gently over his brow. You drew your bottom lip in between your teeth, worrying the flesh out of nervousness. You’d never been this close to a man, let alone a half-dressed one.

Your breath suddenly hitched as his thumb moved to brush over your lower lip, pulling it from between your teeth. His gaze was heavy, looking at you as though you were something precious, something to be desired. 

The trance was suddenly broken by a loud yell from behind Din. 

“Djarin! I want a rematch!”

You’d jerked at the sudden sound, but Din only sighed, his eyes sliding shut as he stood before you, your face still cradled in his palm. He opened his eyes again, smiling softly at you. 

“Have you ever seen a sparring match before?” When you shook your head, he gestured to the seats behind you. “Stay. Watch.”

He released you, turning and stalking back towards Paz, leaving you standing there with a warm face and fluttering in your stomach. You were dazed, and caught off-guard when Cara suddenly appeared back at your side, with Grogu in her arms. 

“Come on, the kid likes to watch too.”

She all but dragged you to the seats, pulling you down next to her and plopping the little one onto your lap. Automatically, your arms came up around him, but you were still lost, your gaze still unfocused as you tried to make sense of the conversation that had just taken place.

You watched as Din and Paz centered themselves on the mat, falling into stances, with their staffs held at the ready. Muscles tense, the two men were still for a few moments, before they suddenly sprung into action. The clangs as their staffs collided were loud, and you watched, wide-eyed as the two men fought ferociously.

“Good, isn’t he?”

You just nodded dumbly, unable to take your eyes off of the sight in front of you. Cara chuckled, leaning forward and bracing her arms on her legs as she watched alongside you.

“You ever learn how to fight?”

You scoffed. “No. I’m a female shopkeeper from the lower villages. The most I was ever taught was how to run away and scream for help.” Unfortunately, unless you joined the fighting corps, most of those in the lower villages weren’t concerned with teaching women how to defend themselves. Your mother had always balked at the idea that you should learn how to fight, insisting that your husband would be able to take care of you, ignoring the fact that you still weren’t married. 

Cara shrugged. “I bet Din’d teach you if you asked.” 

A choking sound left your mouth, and Cara laughed.

***

“Your center of gravity is here.” 

You stood as still as you could, feeling the warmth of Din’s palm as he pressed against your lower stomach, his bare chest pressed into your back. His breath was hot against your neck, and you swore you could feel the brush of his lips against your skin as he spoke.

His fingers splayed against your bare skin, his other hand gripping your waist. “If you keep your legs spread,” he muttered, using his his bare foot to knock your feet apart, forcing your stance wider. “Your center of gravity will be lower, and it’ll be harder to knock you down.”

You nodded, shifting slightly to settle your weight better onto the balls of your feet. Din’s hand squeezed your hip, before he let go and moved to come and stand in front of you. He mimicked your stance, thumping the center of his chest with one fist. 

“Hit me.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What?”

He rolled his eyes. “I want you to try and knock me down. So, hit me.”

Frowning, you hesitated for a moment. “How am I supposed to knock you down? You’re so much bigger than I am.”

Din chuckled. “I may be bigger, darling, but that usually means I’m going to be slower. Don’t try and use brute force, play to your strengths. You’re smaller than I am, but that doesn’t have to mean that you’re weaker. My center of gravity is here,” he tapped the middle of his chest, at his sternum. “It’s higher up on men, so it’s easier to knock us off our feet. You’re naturally more grounded. Use that to your advantage.”

You nodded, bringing your hands up like Din had showed you. You threw your fist forward, but Din’s hand came up, blocking your punch easily. 

You frowned, and he only grinned. “Try again.”

This time, you tried to punch with your other hand, to throw him off, but Din still blocked your punch. Even though you weren’t surprised, you were still frustrated.  

“Come on, darling. It’s not that hard, just hit me.”

His voice is sweetly condescending, and it lights a fire in your core. You can do this. You’ve just gotta hit him.

You throw a punch with your non-dominant hand, and as he goes to block it, you snap your other hand up, nailing him square in the center of his chest. He lets out a grunt, and as he bends over slightly from the force of your punch, you lean over and dart forward, ramming your shoulder into his stomach, knocking him further off-balance. 

He falls back onto the mat, and you follow him down, landing on top of him, your legs on either side of his hips as your hands grip his shoulders, pushing him into the mat. You’re leaning over him, panting, a smug grin on your lips. 

Din is smirking up at you, and you get the odd sensation that even though he’s the one on the ground, pinned under your weight, he’s still in control. 

“There you go, was that so hard?”

You scoffed, sitting back, settling onto his lower stomach as you glared down at him. “God, what would it take for you to shut up?”

Din’s still smirking, but he mock-pouts at your words. “Aw, darling, you don’t like how I’m using my mouth?”

You groan, tilting your head back to stare up at the ceiling, annoyed. “Not particularly, no.” You miss the dark look that suddenly appears in Din’s eyes, but you don’t miss the way he abruptly grasps the back of your knees and jerks, bringing you up so that your core is centered over his face. You almost lose your balance with the movements, falling forward and bracing your hands on the mat as Din brings your legs up to straddle his face. 

“Din?!” You gasp, your face growing hot as you feel his breath against your core through the thin fabric of your training pants. He just ignores you, ripping both your pants and your underwear in one quick move, his arms wrapping around your thighs and bringing you down so that you’re riding his face. 

The first touch of his tongue against your folds causes you to whimper, the sensation unfamiliar but so good. He’s gentle at first, carefully stroking you with his tongue, but it doesn’t take long for him to grow impatient, his arms tightening on your hips as he pulls you down. 

His tongue flicks against your clit, and you shudder, your head falling forward, eyes clenched shut. He seals his lips around your clit and sucks, and a high-pitched whine escapes your lips, your thighs trembling as he devours you like you’re the sweetest thing in the galaxy. 

Din is relentless, insatiable, fucking you on his tongue, and every time breathy gasps and moans leave your mouth, he goes harder, faster, his fingers gripping your skin so tight you’ll wear the bruises for days.

“Fuck, Din–” You gasp, one of your hands gripping his hair as he grinds you down onto his face. “Please, don’t stop–!”

He moans into you as you tug on his hair, and the vibrations are just fuel for the fire that’s burning in your veins. He encourages you to circle your hips, helping you ride his face as he eats you out like you’re the last food he’s ever going to get to eat. You’re not sure how he hasn’t had to stop to breathe, but then he’s suckling on your clit and flicking it with his tongue and you almost scream. 

“I–I’m gonna come, please, Din–!”

He sucks harder and you’re almost there, and–

***

Your eyes snap open, your whole body tense as you gasp, the fire burning in your belly becoming a raging inferno, and you have to clasp your hand over your mouth so you don’t wake the whole village. You can feel your walls clenching around nothing as you come, legs shaking as wave after wave of pleasure washes over you. 

The fingers of your other hand are clenched tightly in the sheets as your hips desperately grind against nothing but air. Tears are leaking out of your eyes and running down your face as you sob brokenly into your hand. You’ve never felt anything so powerful, so overwhelming. 

As you lay panting on your bed, trembling in the aftershocks of your first orgasm, your heart thumps in your chest as you remember the way Din had looked between your thighs. Groaning, you rolled over, drawing up into a little ball. 

It was just a dream. 

Just a dream.

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[astrognossienne]

scandalous beauty - dolores del río - an analysis

“I love my native Mexico but I love Hollywood, too. It has brought me much happiness and yet, while here I have been miserably unhappy also. But through it all I have found myself, my work and my true destiny.” - Dolores del Río

Like Lupe Vélez, Dolores del Río was a pioneering Latina actress, however del Río’s reach was longer. Far from being stigmatized as a woman of colour, she was acknowledged as the epitome of beauty in the Hollywood of the 1920s and early 1930s. While she insisted upon her ethnicity, she was nevertheless coded white by the film industry and its fans, and she appeared for more than a decade as a romantic lead opposite white actors. Returning to Mexico in the early 1940s, she brought enthusiasm and prestige to the Golden Age of Mexican cinema, becoming one of the great divas of Mexican film. With struggle and perseverance, she overcame the influence of men in both countries who hoped to dominate her, ultimately controlling her own life professionally and personally. Her sophistication, style and artistry bewitched everyone from Stella Adler to John Ford, Federico Fellini, and her great friends Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera, who proclaimed to be “totally in love with her, just like forty million Mexicans and one hundred and twenty million Americans who couldn’t be wrong.” She was America’s first Latina superstar, and by the early 1930s, she was one of Hollywood's ten top moneymakers. Hers was a charmed life, but not even she was without problems. A child of privilege in her native Mexico, her family’s status was destroyed in the Mexican Revolution, and her desire to restore her comfortable lifestyle inspired del Río to follow a career as an actress. Discovered and promoted by American director Edwin Carewe, her obsessive protector and Svengali, as the “female Rudolph Valentino,” del Río’s aristocratic, Spanish-European background was constantly pushed to counteract Hollywood’s racism against Mexicans; indeed she was generally thought to be one of the most beautiful actresses of her era, and was the first Latin American movie star to have international appeal. She worked for over five decades and paved the way for Latin American stars in American cinema.

Dolores del Río, according to astrotheme, was a Leo sun and Aries moon. She was born María de los Dolores Asúnsolo López-Negrete in the Mexican town of Durango; she was an only child born to parents who belonged to the wealthy Mexican aristocracy. She was the second cousin of actor Ramón Novarro and a cousin to actress Andrea Palma. They lived the high life in the company of intellectuals and artists. Dolores attended a prestigious school but soon their world was turned upside down, threatened by an insurrection led by Pancho Villa in the region. Del Río and her mother escaped Mexico City disguised as peasants, while her father crossed the border to the United States. When the family eventually reunited in 1912, they did so under the protection of Francisco I. Madero. In 1920 she married the 18-year older attorney Jaime Martinez del Río and became a socialite. Her career got off to a good start when in 1925 when the lauded American director Edwin Carewe was invited to her home and saw her perform and dance for her family and friends. He persuaded del Río and her husband to moved to the United Sates and go to Hollywood to be in his films. While in Hollywood, del Río played a variety of leading roles, from European aristocrat to "native" girl to European peasant.

Within a few years after her arrival, she was a major hit and her appeal was astonishingly broad. She quickly came to command a substantial salary and to exercise control over her choice of films, scripts, and camera angles. Despite the fact that she did not speak English when she first began and had to have the director 's instructions delivered through interpreters, she made the transition to sound films gracefully. Her accent was deemed slight, attractive, and not specific to a particular country. As socially attractive as she was, physically and personality-wise, the truth is that a major part of del Río’s seamless transition into Hollywood is down to racism and white supremacy. While her contemporary (and nemesis) Lupe Vélez was viewed as the "bad Mexican wildcat" (to be fair, her temperament didn’t help this stereotype), Dolores was viewed as the "good Spanish lady." The contrast between the two stars and their degrees of acceptance reflected society’s stereotypical dichotomy between "good" Spanish and "bad" Mexican images– which has its roots in U.S. history. While most Mexicans were perceived as racially inferior, the elite Hispanic Californianas were deemed European and superior while the mass of Mexican women were viewed as Indian and inferior. Californiana women who possessed land and intermarried with Anglo men were depicted positively; they were represented as aristocratic and virtuous and they epitomized "good" women; but this was at the price of denying their racial identity, and being treated as racially superior to Californiano males and the rest of their people. So as such, she soon divorced her Mexican husband Jaime in 1928 and two years later married MGM art director Cedric Gibbons (who happened to be Gary Cooper’s wife’s uncle).

Soon after her marriage, she was romantically linked with actor Errol Flynn, filmmaker John Farrow, writer Erich Maria Remarque, film producer Archibaldo Burns, and actor Tito Junco. However, it was her affair with Orson Welles, who considered her the love of his life, that was arguably her most high profile relationship. She and Welles met at a party hosted by director Darryl Zanuck. The couple felt a mutual attraction and began a discreet affair, which upon eventual discovery caused the divorce between Dolores and Gibbons. Their relationship lasted for 4 years; she ended it when she got word of Welles cheating on her. She decided to end her relationship with Welles through a telegram that he never answered. According to his daughter, Rebecca, until the end of his life, Welles felt for del Río a kind of obsession. Weeks later, her father died in Mexico. With these personal and professional downturns, Dolores del Río returned to Mexico in the 1940s and became a significant part of the Mexican film industry’s Golden Era. She was the muse of director Emilio Fernández and starred most notably in Las Abandonadas (1944) and La Malquerida (1949). On a national and even international level though, Dolores del Río will perhaps always be best remembered for her role in the 1946 classic María Candelaría, which is said to be the film of which she was most proud. It also marked the first tentative steps of the Mexican film industry into the world of serious cinema and was the first Latin American film to be screened at the Cannes Film Festival in 1946, where it won the Grand Prix (now known as the Palme d’Or) for Best Picture. After her triumph in her native homeland, she returned to Hollywood and played opposite Henry Fonda in The Fugitive (1947). She continued to work steadily, starring in various TV shows and films until retiring in 1978. On April 11, 1983, del Río died from liver failure at the age of 78 in Newport Beach, California.

Next week, I’ll focus on her one-time lover, an iconoclastic disruptor who took on the conventions of Hollywood and won: the amazing Taurus Orson Welles.

Stats

birthdate: August 3, 1904

major planets:

Sun: Leo

Moon: Aries

Rising: Leo

Mercury: Virgo

Venus: Leo

Mars: Cancer

Midheaven: Taurus

Jupiter: Aries

Saturn: Aquarius

Uranus: Sagittarius

Neptune: Cancer

Pluto: Gemini

Overall personality snapshot:  She had a large, warm-hearted, extroverted personality that was always eager to embrace life, love and success – in big doses. There was something about her that assumed the divine right to live life to the full, and her intensity and impatience, along with her personal ambitions, pulled her ever onwards into new projects, fresh relationships and greater challenges. She was something of a gambler and had a daring and dramatic spirit which propelled her forward to make her mark, a sense of personal destiny which can only be exciting and noble. And she was prepared to fight for that glorious destiny if she had to, although she would rather simply steal the show and convince everyone with her intelligence, originality, courage and fabulous style. One of her most beguiling qualities is that she was totally lacking in guile and pretense. Although her own personal destiny was what interested her, paradoxically she at first looked for people she could admire and make into personal heroes. Strongly influenced by a favourite teacher, friend, poet, sports champion or movie star, she could then emulate them and learn through experience how to be great.

She loved the process of creating, as well as the applause that came at the end. Indeed, she relied on those adoring strokes and affirmative responses more than she liked to admit. Life without people would be colourless and boring for her. Social interaction was her life-blood – she could be the life of the party, a real ham and an eccentric, ready to take up the most outrageous dare. But when her extrovert escapades dry up, so did she. She may have, in fact, driven herself to exhaustion and then collapse like a child, home from an all-night rave-up. Yet despite her headlong rush into the experience of life, she was not necessarily irresponsible. Daring and highly idealistic dreams worked away inside her and made her want to improve things, to show people the way, and she may have simply taken charge – for a while. Intensely self-motivated, she did not respond well to orders from others, even though she could be quite bossy herself. There is a touch of the preacher inside her, and she approached her work with great enthusiasm and commitment. She needed space to do her own thing, to learn from her own mistakes, and to learn how to impose her own brand of self-discipline. Her innate self-dramatizing tendencies made her a natural for the theater, business, lecturing, the media – areas that involved group interaction and provided scope for her original and iconoclastic ideas.

She had great presence with a strong-featured face and a sunny glow of inner self-confidence and displayed a regal quality in her posture and carriage; was definitely well-built. She sought perfection in whatever she did and could be very critical of herself and her own efforts. In this way, she often became overly critical and pedantic, especially under stress. She was basically an honest person, and it disturbed her greatly when she had to deal with people who were not. Anyone who violated her sense of trust had a very hard time getting it back. It was very important for her to know that she had the security of a guaranteed paycheck coming in regularly. She had an artistic side to her that obviously influenced her choice of career as an actor. Once she had decided upon her career, she was able to (and most certainly did) pursue it with great determination. She had boundless enthusiasm and big ideas coupled with high expectations of succeeding. She was also self-sufficient and broad-minded. Her genuine pioneering spirit, positive outlook and large-scale personal ambitions led her right to the top. She needed to learn to think before you take on a challenge, and all risks should have been carefully considered. She needed to learn to relax and slow down. She was anxious to prove herself both to others and to herself. If anyone said that she couldn’t do something, she defied them to try and stop her. As long as she felt that she was the one in control, she had a high degree of optimism and was fun-loving, loving to play at life. 

She had an original mind and used every skill she possessed to gain control of her affairs. She found it hard to let go of the past, and it would have been good if she did so that she could grow. She was willing to tolerate austerity for as long as it was justified. She respected institutions for as long as they served her purpose. She had the ability to judge what was viable or important. She belonged to a generation with fiery enthusiasm for new and innovative ideas and concepts. Rejecting the past and its mistakes, she sought new ideals and people to believe in. As a member of this generation, she felt restless and adventurous, and was attracted towards foreign people, places and cultures. She was part of an emotionally sensitive generation that was extremely conscious of the domestic environment and the atmosphere surrounding their home place and home country. In fact, she could be quite nostalgic about her homeland, religion and traditions, often seeing them in a romantic light. She felt a degree of escapism from everyday reality, and was very sensitive to the moods of those around him. Dolores embodied all of these Cancer Neptunian ideals, when she returned to her native Mexico in 1943, a country of which she was very proud, her decision to return to her roots changed her career. As a Gemini Plutonian, she was mentally restless and willing to examine and change old doctrines, ideas and ways of thinking. As a member of this generation, she showed an enormous amount of mental vitality, originality and perception. Traditional customs and taboos were examined and rejected for newer and more original ways of doing things. As opportunities with education expanded, she questioned more and learned more.

Love/sex life: She had a heroic conception of herself as a lover. She saw herself as strong and in control, the protector of the weak and the saviour of the desperate. Unfortunately, the realities of her love life didn’t always support this notion. Often it was her tender feelings that required protection and her desperate plunges in and out of love that called for a saviour. In order to justify this discrepancy, she often had to be less than honest, both with her lover and herself. The person most likely to win her heart would have been that individual who made it appear as if  she was the champion when, in fact, she was the one crying for help. Her tendency toward self-deception often extended to a failure to admit to her very natural emotionalism and sexual passivity. Unfortunately, there always came a day of reckoning when she had to “own” her emotional susceptibility and capitulate to her sloppy feelings of dependency and her deep-seated need for affection. The good news was that surrendering everything for love wasn’t nearly as bad as she thought it was. She may have lost her dignity but what she got in return made it all worth while.

minor asteroids and points:

North Node: Virgo

Lilith: Pisces

Vertex: Sagittarius

Fortune: Taurus

East Point: Leo

These points in her chart, however minor, packed a major punch in her sex appeal as well. Her North Node in Virgo dictated that her tendency to dream and be disorganized needed to be tempered by developing more practical and down-to-earth attitudes. Her Lilith in Pisces meant that she was a woman who was a natural born mystic and cultivated her own myth. Her Part of Fortune in Taurus and Part of Spirit in Scorpio dictated that her destiny lay in attaining personal freedom through seeking material security and comfort. Happiness and good fortune came through tangible and practical results that had a solid foundation. Her soul’s purpose lay in delving fearlessly into the unknown. She felt spiritual connections and saw the spark of the divine when she could strip away the outer layers of experiences and get to the core of a situation. East Point in Leo dictated that she was more likely to identify with the need for pleasure (including the potential of liking herself) and comfort. Vertex in Sagittarius, 4th house reveals that she dreamt of the pinnacle of adventure when it came to mating. Her psyche yearned to be carried away to the ends of the earth or to be exposed to every manner of religious and/or philosophical theory known to man and then some. Her yearning was strong and really deep when it came to rarefied experiences of any sort. Encountering and wanting to join with her demanded that she always had an itinerary that will provide her with the maps to explore the roads that they have not yet traveled, to say nothing of the different worlds they have dreamed of but not yet experienced. She had a childlike orientation, in all of its manifestations, toward relationships on an internal level. That implicit dependency and impressionable nature that was instilled in her childhood persisted far into maturity. The concomitant explosions and occasional tantrums when these constructs are violated also accompany this position. She had a need for emotional security and comfort in a committed relationship, no matter how many years it has endured. She often had deep fears, typical of children, of abandonment, as well as a need for protection and universal acceptance, no matter how she acted, which she needed her partner to respect and nurture, rather than rebuke, especially in adulthood.

elemental dominance:

fire

earth

She was dynamic and passionate, with strong leadership ability. She generated enormous warmth and vibrancy. She was exciting to be around, because she was genuinely enthusiastic and usually friendly. However, she could either be harnessed into helpful energy or flame up and cause destruction. Ultimately, she chose the latter. Confident and opinionated, she was fond of declarative statements such as “I will do this” or “It’s this way.” When out of control—usually because she was bored, or hadn’t been acknowledged—she was be bossy, demanding, and even tyrannical. But at her best, her confidence and vision inspired others to conquer new territory in the world, in society, and in themselves. She was a practical, reliable man and could provide structure and protection. She was oriented toward practical experience and thought in terms of doing rather than thinking, feeling, or imagining. Could be materialistic, unimaginative, and resistant to change. But at her best, she provided the practical resources, analysis, and leadership to make dreams come true.

modality dominance:

fixed

She liked the challenge of managing existing routines with ever more efficiency, rather than starting new enterprises or finding new ways of doing things. She likely had trouble delegating duties and had a very hard time seeing other points of view; she tried to implement the human need to create stability and order in the wake of change.      

house dominants:

12th

9th

1st

She had great interest in the unconscious, and indulged in a lot of hidden and secret affairs. Her life was defined by seclusion and escapism. She had a certain mysticism and hidden sensitivity, as well as an intense need for privacy. Traveling, whether physically across the globe, on a mental plane or expanding through study was a major theme in her life. She was not only concerned with learning facts, but also wanted to understand the connections formed between them and the philosophies and concepts they stood for. Her conscience, as well as foreign travel, people and places was also of paramount importance in her life. Her personality, disposition and temperament was highlighted in her life. The manner in which she expressed herself and the way she approached other people is also highlighted. The way she approached new situations and circumstances contributed to show how she set about her life’s goals. Early childhood experiences also factored in her life as well.

planet dominants:

Mercury

Sun

Venus

She was intelligent, mentally quick, and had excellent verbal acuity. She dealt in terms of logic and reasoning. It is likely that she was left-brained. She was restless, craved movement, newness, and the bright hope of undiscovered terrains. She had vitality and creativity, as well as a strong ego and was authoritarian and powerful. She likely had strong leadership qualities, she definitely knew who she was, and she had tremendous will. She met challenges and believed in expanding her life. She was romantic, attractive and valued  beauty, had an artistic instinct, and was sociable. She had an easy ability to create close personal relationships, for better or worse, and to form business partnerships.

sign dominants:

Leo

Aries

Virgo

She loved being the center of attention and often surrounded herself with admirers. She had an innate dramatic sense, and life was definitely her stage. Her flamboyance and personal magnetism extended to every facet of her life. She wanted to succeed and make an impact in every situation. As a Leo dominant, she was, at her best, optimistic, honorable, loyal, and ambitious. She was a physically oriented individual who took pride in her body. She was bold, courageous, and resourceful. She always seemed to know what she believed, what she wanted from life, and where she was going. She could be dynamic and aggressive (sometimes, to a fault) in pursuing her goals—whatever they might be. Could be argumentative, lacked tact, and had a bad temper. On the other hand, her anger rarely lasted long, and she could be warm and loving with those she cared about. She was a discriminating, attractive, thorough, scientific, hygienic, humane, scientific woman and had the highest standards. Her attention to detail was second to none and she had a deeply penetrative and investigative mind.

Read more about her under the cut.

Dolores del Rio was the one of the first Mexican movie stars with international appeal and who had meteoric career in the 1920s/1930s Hollywood. Del Rio came from an aristocratic family in Durango. In the Mexican revolution of 1916, however, the family lost everything and emigrated to Mexico City, where Dolores became a socialite. In 1921 she married Jaime Del Río (also known as Jaime Martínez Del Río), a wealthy Mexican, and the two became friends with Hollywood producer/director Edwin Carewe, who "discovered" del Rio and invited the couple to move to Hollywood where they launched careers in the movie business (she as an actress, Jaime as a screenwriter). Eventually they divorced after Carewe cast her in her first film Joanna (1925), followed by High Steppers (1926), and Pals First (1926). She had her first leading role in Carewe's silent version of Pals First (1926) and soared to stardom in 1928 with Carewe's Ramona (1928). The film was a success and del Rio was hailed as a female Rudolph Valentino. Her career continued to rise with the arrival of sound in the drama/romance Bird of Paradise (1932) and hit musical Flying Down to Rio (1933). She later married Cedric Gibbons, the well-known art director and production designer at MGM studios. Dolores returned to Mexico in 1942. Her Hollywood career was over, and a romance with Orson Welles--who later called her "the most exciting woman I've ever met"--caused her second divorce. Mexican director Emilio Fernández offered her the lead in his film Wild Flower (1943), with a wholly unexpected result: at age 37, Dolores del Río became the most famous movie star in her country, filming in Spanish for the first time. Her association with Fernández' team (cinematographer Gabriel Figueroa, writer Mauricio Magdaleno and actor Pedro Armendáriz) was mainly responsible for creating what has been called the Golden Era of Mexican Cinema. With such pictures as Maria Candelaria (1944), The Abandoned (1945) and Bugambilia (1945), del Río became the prototypical Mexican beauty. career included film, theater and television. In her last years she received accolades because of her work for orphaned children. Her last film was The Children of Sanchez (1978). (x)

[soldrawss]

So I’mmina start this off by saying literally all your aus/drawing make me smile. They’re all so fascinating and sweet and so,SO well thought out! That being said, not to be that person that brings angst into a fluff buffet but... in your Movie Star Dad AU, do the boys every have mixed feelings about their father suddenly appearing in their lives after a prolonged absence? Also would Christof Von Bradford be an issue for the fam, considering his active competitive jerk energy he has with Lou?

Hi, thank you for your sweet words!!! I literally think about my rottmnt aus every waking moment, no joke, so I’m glad that you think they’re well thought out! I do my best! (also always bring angst. I always have a lot of angst in these au’s, I just also try to even it out with just as much fluff) The boys were YOUNG when Yoshi came into their lives, and each of them have their own perspectives on it, so at the time, they didn’t really have any huge negative feelings towards their situation before Yoshi found them because his absence wasn’t really,,, prolonged.

Mikey was literally a baby, barely a year old, so he doesn’t ever remember a time when Yoshi wasn’t in his life. Yoshi is the only parent Mikey really knows, and he’s completely fine with that. If Mikey has any mixed feelings, it’s towards his late mother, who he has absolutely no memories about, and only really knows her through the pictures Raph kept and the stories Raph and Yoshi would tell about her. He sometimes feels bad that he doesn’t feel as sad about her passing as Raph or Yoshi does, and he sometimes feels bad about not remembering her at all, but it’s also weird cause he knows he shouldn’t feel bad about it, cause he was too little to remember anything anyway and that’s not his fault, but the weird gross feelings in his stomach are there all the same when he thinks too hard about it. So he tries not to think about it. And just blissfully goes about his days with his doting dad and his overindulgent big brothers. 

Raph was nervous and distrustful of Yoshi at first, because of course he was. He was 4 years old, sitting in a hospital bed alone with just his tiny baby brother in his arms, nursing a concussion and ugly road rash on his arms and legs while also nursing a broken heart after just losing mama. And then suddenly this man appears, the man in the movies that mama always loved to watch, except he’s not wearing the flamboyant jumpsuit he’s always wearing, but a maroon sweatshirt and old jeans. His signature styled pompadour and orange shades replaced with a disheveled ponytail and bags like bruises under his eyes. And a lot of people come and go throughout the next couple of weeks. Doctors and therapists and child services and lawyers and all of their faces begin to blend together in a dizzying swirl and Raph has a hard time focusing on anyone who isn’t Mikey. But the man stays the same. His face stays intact, and he follows them wherever they go. And then suddenly Raph and Mikey are allowed to go home with the man, and he tells them how he’s their dad. And how he didn’t know they existed, but he’s going to make up for all the lost time tenfold. And he promises he’s gonna love them enough for both him and their mama. Which Raph doesn’t think is possible, and so he’s suspicious and untrusting at first, cause no one can love them more than their mama did. But the man tries. Boy, does he try hard anyway. Tries to win every smiling giggle Mikey shoots at him and earn Raph’s faith that he’ll be there for them. That he’ll protect them. That he’s going to love them forever. And over the weeks and months, through every tantrum and screaming fit and long sleepless nights, he proves it, little by little. He stays. And he loves them. And Raph’s faith in the man grows with every bedtime story and piggyback ride and half-cooked pancake with too much syrup, and Raph’s guard slowly goes down until it’s fully surrendered over to this man who is their dad, and it’s never raised again.  Donnie knows the routine. He’s been through it approximately 27 and a half times before, through all the foster care homes. A new family takes him in. He messes up something. The new family gives him back. Lather. Rinse. Repeat. He’s been here before. He knows this isn’t going to last long, despite all the promises the man with the thick accent says. And Donnie doesn’t really register that this man was his biological father. He doesn’t really care to, to be honest. What was the point? His own biological mother had willingly gotten rid of him, Donnie’s snuck a peek at his record, he knew it all. So what if this man was his dad. That didn’t mean anything. He was gonna get tired of Donnie the same way all the other parents did. Tired of the constant questions. Tired of the broken appliances and half baked reasons why he took them apart in the first place, because apparently “I wanted to see how they worked” wasn’t a good enough answer. And Donnie was three years old and smarter than anyone ever gave him credit for and you know what? He was tired of it too. Tired of getting his hopes of a family finally understanding and accepting him. Tired of wanting a family who would love him back. Tired of getting his heart broken time and time again. So he wasn’t going to get his heart broken this time. He wasn’t going to accept anything of this man, with two boys already that shared Donnie’s eyes, and he wasn’t going to let himself be the fool again. And as the weeks went by, this cold shoulder game he was playing was getting harder and harder to keep, because dangit, this man really did try everything to prove that he was the real deal. The forever family. And Donnie’s new ‘brothers’ were always bright-eyed and curious about everything Donnie did and said, and actually wanted to play his weird word games and puzzles and wanted to spend time with him, and Donnie felt something short circuit in his brain because he wasn’t used to this feeling in his chest. This warm and light feeling. Something must be overheating in whatever engine was running inside of Donnie’s chest, and Donnie didn’t have a clue how to fix it. He also didn’t know if he wanted to fix it. But of course, it didn’t matter anyway. Because Donnie messed up. It was bound to happen eventually, Donnie got to brazen with how comfortable he was getting in the large house, and when he was running in the hallways, chasing after Raph in an impromptu game of tag, he accidentally slipped and knocked into the t.v stand, sending it straight to the floor where it broke into a hundred different pieces of glass and tiny wired parts. Donnie was mortified, knowing this would definitely send him back, and he got on his hands and knees and tried to collect the parts and put it back together but there was no time. The man that Donnie was half tempted to call dad half the time was already in the room, searching for the source of the loud crash and when his eyes finally landed on Donnie and the broken t.v behind him, Donnie couldn’t help but burst into tears. And he tried to explain, tried to apologize and he promised he’d fix it, he promised, he’d fix it up brand new and then the man wouldn’t have to send Donnie back. He’d be good. He’d fix this. He promised. Just please don’t send him back. And Donnie didn’t see the way the man’s body flinched at Donnie’s sobbed confession, and didn’t see the man lurch from where he was standing to pick Donnie up and hold him in a tight embrace saying all kinds of things that didn’t make sense to Donnie. Because the man was supposed to be angry. Angry like all the other parents eventually were. Angry and disappointed and tired, not... well... whatever this was. Which was holding him close, and running shaking hands through his hair and rubbing circles into his back and saying “Are you ok? Did you get hurt anywhere? Did you touch the glass? Shhh, shhhh, it’s ok buddy, breathe, you’re ok. You’re not in trouble. You don’t have to fix anything. It’s just a t.v. As long as you’re unhurt, then it’s ok. You’re ok, sweetheart. I got you.” And Donnie could feel the man press kisses into Donnie’s hairline that made the 3-year-old cry even harder, and press his face farther into his dad’s shirt as he clung to him for dear life. Because it’s never been just ‘ok’ before. Never. And for the first time, Donnie was starting to learn that with this family, with this man, being ‘ok’ might just work out after all.

When Leo meets Yoshi for the first time, it’s with a heart already filled to the brim with excitement and acceptance as he fully lets him into his life. Because Leo’s 3, and doesn’t know where he came from like most of the other kids in the halfway home. All he knows is that he’s always lived in this cramped house, sharing a room with a broken AC unit with 4 other boys around his age that just loved picking on Leo because of how small he was and how his skin was two different colors. He’s used to the house, and strict rules about eating and playtime, and the mean older kids that come and go while Leo always stays. He doesn’t want to be used to it, but he is, and his lonely daydreams and nights wishing upon all the stars in the sky are filled with thoughts about a life where he gets to leave this place. Dreams about a mom and dad or even a cool uncle or caring grandparents or literally anyone, coming and rescuing him and taking him far away from this place. Dreams about finding a home, with someone there calling him theirs. Belonging to someone, and having someone belong to him too. And then on a dusty and warm afternoon, that very person showed up, and Leo smiles at him hard enough to hurt his face. And he was looking for Leo, Leo specifically, not someone around Leo’s age or who looked like Leo, but actually Leo. And the man wanted Leo. Wanted him like no one had ever wanted him before. And wanted to take him home and call Leo his forever and Leo would have thought he was still dreaming if he hadn’t kept pinching himself the entire 6-hour flight to New York. And not only did Leo get a dad, but he got 3 brothers as well! 3 brothers, who all looked different than Leo but shared his brown eyes all the same, and didn’t mind that Leo talked a lot or made a lot of jokes and didn’t bully him for being or looking ‘weird’ like the other boys he grew up with did. And even though dad says that Leo’s his, and Raph and Donnie and Mikey want to hang around and play with him, Leo still finds himself pinching himself every night just in case. Because this is almost too good to be a dream. It couldn’t be real, right? Did Leo deserve this? Was it really his to have? To call his own? Was a kid like him, who grew up with nothing, who grew up as a nothing, allowed to have everything, and be somebody worth keeping around? Leo wasn’t sure, but if this was a dream, it was the best one he’d ever had, and he hopes he doesn’t wake up from it anytime soon.

[chrisjake-cp]

History 3 Trapped Filming Diary (full English translation) - Days 1-10

Just before you start reading, a little note of explanation: the author of this diary will frequently use the character’s name when they mean the actor. I have added the names of the actors between square brackets sometimes to avoid confusion. Also between square brackets you will find some words that are implied, so I added them in the translation to make the translation a bit smoother, but they aren’t included in the Chinese text. 

The book’s author will also talk in the first person POV sometimes, refering to themselves as either “I”, “we” or “this little editor 小编”.  So each time you see me write “I”, it is not my own opinion I’m inserting in the text, but the author/editor’s. If I have anything else to add or explain myself, I’ll add it in a note at the end of the text.  

I’ll repeat: I don’t own the book so I can’t post my scans of the pictures that came with every day. So I posted some other pictures of the scenes that were being filmed with each day. These pics belong to LINE TV or Choco Media, or I’ve taken screenshots. 

Day 1-10 under the cut. 

Day 1

The first day of shooting happened to coincide with ‘Li Dong’⁕ but the temperatures of that day soared to 29 degrees. The crew was going sleeveless, but the actors were all wearing sweaters or dress shirts. Tang Yi, who had on the most, was wearing a turtleneck sweater and a suit jacket on top at one point, but he didn’t sweat very much.⁕ Meanwhile A De [Stanley], wearing a shirt and a suit jacket, was [clad] the ‘thinnest’ at the scene. When he got off work and took off his sweaty shirt, the wardrobe department exclaimed: “This shirt is so wet!”

Officer Meng’s scenes for that day consisted of eating from 10 am in the morning until 6pm in the evening. He basically ate from when he got to work until he got off work. All in all he had two large bags of rice and poured 4 liters of coca cola. Junhao [Jake] will start sweating profusely and start flushing when he eats spicy food, so as soon as the director yelled ‘cut’, the crew would immediately pass him a plastic bag so he could spit out the spicy Kung Pao Chicken he was eating.

⁕ Li Dong 立冬 literally means ‘establishing the winter’, so it is some kind of winter solstice in Asian culture. In the Gregorian calendar, it falls on 7 or 8 November. According to the IG stories of some of the cast of Trapped, it was indeed 7 November 2018 when shooting started. 

⁕ Chris apparently doesn’t sweat much, no matter how hot he gets. He says as much in his vlog as well. I envy him, because I’d just be sweating buckets like Stanley. 

Day 2

The first meeting between Tang Yi and Wenhao is also the second time that Chengyang [Chris] and teacher Jiakui [Chen Jiakui, the actor who plays Chen Wenhao] worked together. They cooperated for the first time on a movie. At that time teacher Jiakui served as the movie’s drama teacher. When Chris had gone through make-up in the early morning, he sat alone in a corner with the script. You could easily see that he was conflicted and upset. [For the other movie] teacher Jiakui was Chris’ mentor, but here Wenhao was the target of Tang Yi’s revenge.

In the process of their scenes where they faced each other, the director hoped that Tang Yi could hate Wenhao even more, but Tang Yi’s personality is subdued and calm. So how could he fly into a raging fit and still keep his calm? In a part that was not captured on camera, teacher Jiakui aggravated some lines to make Chris more infuriated. Afterwards teacher Jiakui also said that the role of Tang Yi is not easy to perform. [Tang Yi] is a young mob boss, The hate in his eyes must therefore also carry a bit of youthfullness, which is difficult to experience for normal people in the course of their lives.

Day 3

Today was the first time that Zhaozi arrived on set, and while he was bored waiting for his scenes, Zhaozi started to act as the shop’s clerk to sell suits. Apart from suits, bowties and regular ties, he even managed to sell shoehorns. By oneself, the words just kept on flying out of his mouth which left Shaofei beside him looking dumbfounded (if you want to see Shaofei’s dumbfounded meme-like look, you have to absolutely watch the behind-the-scenes on the DVDs)⁕. [Shaofei] continued to shout “If you buy a shoehorn you get Zhaozi for free with it, please someone take Zhaozi away, Unit 3 can’t stand it anymore.”

Boss Tang was tired, and took a nap in his own shop. ‘Just a little while will do. Shaofei and A De, you two be on the lookout for me, and if the director is coming, remember to wake me.’

⁕ Excellent advice. Please do watch the behind-the-scenes after finishing this book, because a lot of what is written here is visualized in the bts. The bts are arranged per episode though, and not per filming day, but it’s still amazing to be able to see what went on. 

Day 4

The set for the offices of Investigation Unit 3 is actually the office of LINE TV’s Choco Media branch. The contemporary industrial style caused the atmosphere among Unit 3 to be even more lively. 

For Unit 3’s first scene together, the director used a one-shot to have everyone appear on the scene, which meant that the first time all the actors were present, they had to have a ‘chemistry’ test. But apart from the actors, chemistry also had to be there for the whole staff, as the directing crew, the camera crew and the sound crew, really everyone, also had to follow [the actors] along⁕. I still remember that by the 20th take, everyone’s lines ran very smoothly, the shot was satisfactory and everyone was where they were supposed to be. The director and the crew were holding their breath in concentration, and just when they thought they’d succeed, A Zhi [character Zhou Guanzhi, played by Kass Tsai] forgot a line in the very last sentence hahahaha. In the end, this round took 27 takes.

⁕ The author uses a metaphor/reference here. They write 乾坤大挪移 which means something like ‘The Great Shift of the Cosmos’ and is apparently a kind of martial art from a martial arts novel. It consists of 7 increasingly difficult skill levels, whereby the 7th level is almost unattainable. In other words, shooting this one-shot scene required the whole cast and crew pulling off this great cosmos shift, and thus was a big, big challenge. 

Day 5

After we shot the scene where the two idiots from Unit 3 [Shaofei and Zhaozi] got into trouble and received an explosive scolding by Dapao [Shi Dapao, the name of Unit 3’s Captain]⁕, the director told Shaofei that she wanted to add a scene where he sat next to the window thinking about Sister Lizhen, continuing in the same mood [as the previous scene]...Everyone in Unit 3 felt that Shaofei was continuing to set his teeth into a meaningless old case. If there had only been some progress in the investigation...but [Shaofei] not only didn’t find any new leads, but he also got into trouble everywhere. If Sister Lizhen would still be alive, he wouldn’t be like this now...Shaofei really, really missed sister Lizhen. Rather than say that the director added this scene at the last moment, it’s more like she deliberately didn’t tell Junhao [Jake] that she would add this part. 

When they were shooting, the director played the music from the music box through the megaphone and from time to time talked as well, to provoke moody feelings in Jake. In the end Jake grabbed his phone and scrolled through his mother’s Facebook, and to all our surprise Jake started bawling, so much so that even after the ‘cut’ he couldn’t stop, until the director walked over and lightly patted him on the back. To be able to cry like that in a short amount of time, even he himself hadn’t expected that.

⁕ How much fun is it that the name of the Captain of Unit 3 literally means big cannon, when he explodes in anger all the damn time? 😂 I am quite convinced that in the hospital scene where Shaofei tells Tang Yi of his fortune-telling and that only a cannon can strike him down - he uses the exact same wording ‘dapao’ - it’s actually an inside joke and he may not have meant ‘cannon’ literally. 

Day 6

Today’s weather couldn’t be called very fine, and when we were shooting until 3 or 4 P.M., the daylight was almost gone, just when the filming location had large windows in every corner that reached the ground. Our funny director said “Why did the production team run out of light after 3 P.M.? Did they forget to send notice⁕ to the sun?” This caused the crew that was present to not know whether to laugh or cry. But in the end, before the sun got off work, everyone else smoothly finished their job as well.

⁕ the term “to send notice” is quite literal, but the word is indeed an entertainment industry term as well, that means to hire someone for a short amount of time or for a specific show, without there having to be a longer-term contractual agreement. So it could also be translated as “did they forget to hire the sun [to star in today’s scenes]?”

Day 7

It was a day with complicated feelings for Shaofei and little Tang Yi, as Shaofei discovered Tang Yi’s past history. 

Before going to meet the adoptive father of his lover, of course Shaofei had to straighten himself out first and shave his beard to leave a good impression. In the evening, today’s final scene was shot. Before starting filming, the director hoped that [Tang Yi’s] adoptive father could guide little Tang Yi’s mood, because the intensity of this scene needed to bring out the reason why Tang Yi’s feelings for Tang Guodong ran so deep and make everyone feel the warmth that Tang Guodong brought to Tang Yi even more. 

Under the constant conflict of raising [little Tang Yi] through much difficulties, a loud and clear slap came down heavily on little Tang Yi’s face. The silence at the [shooting] site caused the loud sound to be infinitely amplified, and the director and the crew were all shocked. When the ‘cut’ sounded, little Tang Yi instantly started crying, and the director rushed to the room immediately. On every crew member’s face was reluctance and shock. Meanwhile the adoptive father sat with his head down on the sofa, full of remorse. 

An extra tidbit from the same scene: the crew’s love for little gadgets

There are always a few conspicuous toys in front of the director’s monitor. She explained that these were toys that members of the crew who are close to her gave her to alleviate stress. I don’t know which toy is the director’s favourite?

 Day 8

For the setting of the toilets of Unit 3 we actually used the toilets in a department store. Zhaozi, who arrived at the store very early in the morning, was hit on by an older lady who was just coming into work. The lady said: “Aren’t you Zhao Youting [Mark Chao]? You definitely are Zhao Youting!!” Even though Zhaozi went on to deny it, the lady didn’t listen and believed that this handsome guy in front of her was Zhao Youting himself. 

Actually, Zhaozi passed on the above story [to us], and no one actually saw this older lady. Zhaozi often tells bluff stories with a straight face, but I [this little editor] have my reservations about its credibility. But be as it may, after he was told that he looked like Zhao Youting, Zhaozi’s acting skills immediately leveled up. So okay, whether or not the story was real, we thank this lady ‘from the legends’.

Day 9

Can I call you dad after this hug? 

I still remember the story of a friend coming out to his mother. He said to his mom: “I’m sorry if this thing disappoints you. I don’t dare to ask for your blessing. I just hope that you can show some understanding.” Through a chat message, his mother could only briefly reply: “If your other half is a good kid, I will give you my blessing.”

Many people in a same-sex relationship don’t dare to confess to the older generation and they don’t dare to ask for their blessings. Their only hope is not to be hated. It’s like that facing this society, and it’s the case when facing your beloved family. When Wenhao and Shaofei met each other, Wenhao gave Shaofei a hug. This hug must have carried [Wenhao’s] unspoken blessing. 

No worries, dear father-in-law. I, Officer Meng, will take care of everything (pats on the back). 

Wenhao and Guodong together brings its own hint of romance.⁕ The fighting was very intense that day, so much so that the police dispatched a Quick Fight Force team in concern [for the situation]. 

⁕ The term that the author uses is 腐味 (fuwei, the taste of fu). The first character, ‘fu’ is the same ‘fu’ that is used in terms like fujoshi 腐女子 and fudanshi  腐男子 (which are Japanese) but it’s the same pronunciation for that first character. So the author implies that there might have been something more than friendship going on between Chen Wenhao and Tang Guodong. They imply the same thing later in the book as well (day 60, where the two are called a CP). 

Day 10

A Mei [Stanley] who portrays A De, said that he was the expert in getting beaten [in this drama]. I say that Stanley definitely dedicated himself to taking on that role. Many times his head bumped into the wall and the crew told him to take a break, but Stanley couldn’t stop yelling “no no, hurry up, I’m familiar with it now!”

All the way through the end Officer Meng and Vixen⁕ no.1, A De, cheered each other on before ‘Action!’ [was called]. 

⁕ The word for vixen is ‘fox spirit’  狐狸精 in Chinese. I love that and I could probably write essays on this subject. In classical Chinese literature, foxes were most of the time portrayed as (mainly female) temptresses who seduced males for sex and then didn’t shy away from sucking the soul out of them, kind of like a succubus. If anyone is ever in the mood for some academic literature about foxes in late imperial China, I've got you covered  https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/3237790-alien-kind

So A De and Andy are constantly referred to as these foxes who want to seduce Tang Yi and snatch him away in front of Shaofei’s eyes. 

[k-hiphop-trash]

GROOVL1n PROFILES AND FACTS

It was founded on June 26th 2019.

RAVI

Real name: Kim WonSik (김원식).

Nicknames: Ambidextrous Rapper, Lava, Lucky Boy.

His stage name Ravi means “charming”.

His favoucolours are black and white.

His hobby is body training.

Among the members of VIXX he sleeps the most.

His most valuable belonging is his lyrics notebook.

He is allergic to dust.

He enjoys drinking coffee at night.

Heloves doing graffiti.

Hehas several tattoos including: “YOLO, You Only Live Once” on his chest; an angel on his left side; “Love attracts love to the wearer”.

He was born on February 15th 1993.

He was born on Jamsil Dong.

He is 183 cm.

His bloodtype is O.

Hehas a younger sister.

He founded his own hiphop label GROOVL1n on June 2019.

He won the 2020Brand of the Year Awards: Idol Variety Star.

He is part of the k-pop group VIXX and part of the sub-unit VIXX LR, were he is a rapper and dancer.

He went to Seoul Jamdomg Elementary School, Jamsil Middle School, Jamsil High School and Howon University with a master in Musicology.

He is a very good MC and is a fairly good freestyler.

Ravi’s ideal type is a pretty and self-conscious woman.

His motto is “You Only Live Once”.

His favourite artists are Kanye West, A$AP Rocky, Chris Brown, Drake, Big Sean and August Alsina. He is also a fan of G-Dragon.

He became part of VIXX because he was one of the winners of the show “Mydol”.

He features on Chad Future’s new music video “Rock the World”.

He wrote the song “What U Waiting For” thinking of the members.

Park MyungSoo offered him to work together when he was impressed after his cover of the song “Fire” on his show “Park Myun Soo’s moving TV”.

He participated in SMTM4 but was eliminated.

He wrote VIXX LR’s “Beautiful Liar”.

In June 2018 he produced a song for the girl group ELRIS.

To promote one of his albums he held a guerrilla concert at Gangnam station.

On April 2nd 2017 he uploaded a picture of a French Bulldog to his Instagram officially introducing “Buttie”, VIXX’s new member. His nickname is “BADA$$”.

He debuted as a soloist on 2017 with his mini album “R.EAL1ZE”.

He is part of the group “Parka Friendship”, including Taemin (SHINee), Kai (EXO) and Timoteo and SungWoon (HOTSHOT). His song “Ravi Da Loca” mentions their name to express his gratitude towards them. He says his best friends are Taemin and Kai.

He appears in Brian Joo’s MV “Let This Die”.

If he were a girl he would go out with N among the VIXX members because he is really nice and reliable and he would probably not be a cheater.

He is the 3rd idol with more songs registered to his name.

He won the golden medal in bowling with Ken on the Idol Star Athletic Championship 2018.

Jellyfish anounced on May 24th that he would be leaving the company but will still promote with VIXX.

He cares a lot for the members of GROOVL1n.

He has a YouTube channel with a mini series were he interviews different artists.

CHILLIN HOMIE

His real name is Jeon WooSung (전우성).

He was born on September 3rd 1999.

He is 178 cm.

He was born in Seoul but lived in Pohang for a long time, which is why he considers Pohang his hometowm.

He started rapping at 18.

He debuted in 2018 with his single “Gang Move”.

He joined GROOVL1n on 19th September 2019.

He is part of NFL crew.

On Februa 1st 2020, he released his first EP album “Saviour from the Hell pt1” with a music video for his title song “WASSUP”.

He rapped for 2 years before applying for SMTM at 20.

He was a contestant on SMTM777, SMTM8 and SMTM9.

He used to play piano when he was young but his fingers didn’t straighten well so he learned to play the piano and the flute.

He got his first tattoo at age 20 on his face which says in kanji “better safe than sorry”; meaning you have nothing to worry about if you are prepared. He also has a chain tattoo on his left arm that has the birthdates of the members if NFL Crew.

In SMTM9 he was a member of team Giriboy&Zion.T with Wonstein, Lilboy and Skyminhyuk.

He made it to the mic slection stage on SMTM9, but decided to drop out due to his panic disorder. Due to this, rapper Skyminhyuk performed a solo stage on his place.

He appeared talking to Ravi, the CEO of his label, about his mental health and Ravi showed lots of interest and preocupationfor his well being.

His career role model is JTONG.

He uses English on his songs because it sounds nice and looks good.

He used to go everywhere, including SMTM recordings using public transportation, but since signing with GROOVL1n he goes on the label’s car. He says this is one of the many benefites of having a label to back you up.

He also said that during the two first times he participated in SMTM he looked rough and grubby, nothing like in SMTM9. He also said that he once asked for new music equipment and the company bought it for him in a short time.

He likes clear weather and dislikes rain and snow.

He loves football and his favouclib is Pohang Steelers from K league and Arsenal from Premier league. He has a friend that play on Pohang FC and his favourite Arsenal player is Hector Bellerin.

In order to learn and understand English he uses the translator and watches translated songs.

He featured on Ravi’s single “ASURA” along with other GROOVL1n members that was released on December 7th 2019.

He’s worked with artists like Mckdaddy, DSEL, Eptend, Wonstein, LilBoi and others.

With his upcoming album he wants to break the strong image that a lot of people get from his rapping.

COLD BAY

His real name is Oh InSeob (오인섭).

Nicknames: Cold Valley, Coldy.

He was born on July 7th 1993.

He was born on Iksan, North Jeolla.

He is 182 cm.

He has 2 older sisters.

His bloodtype is O.

He went to Korea University.

His first music tour was with Ravi.

He debuted on July 22nd 2019 with his single “Ruined”.

He collaborated with Ravi and Xudo on the track “Fashionable (prod. gXXD)”.

XYDO

His real name is Park ChiWoong (박치웅).

Hewas born on January 29th 1994.

He debuted on August 14th 2019.

He is from Seoul.

He collaborated with Ravi and Cold Bay onthe track “Fashionable (prod. GXXD)”.

He was an underground R&B artist.

He collaborated with Ravi on his song “Hoodie”.

He says his name is hard to pronounce in English so you can just call him C.W.Park.

He already completed his military service.

His stage name, Xydo, comes from: “Try” in English is “시도하다” in Korean. The pronunciation “Shido” is similar to Xydo and he wanted a name without preconceptions, so he chose Xydo.

He says music is his best friend and that he can share it wether he is happy or sad.

He isn’t sure of how long he’s been pursuing music.

He likes songs made to express himself.

About his music: he does want his music to be tied up in one place and doesn’t want to categorize it into any genre. However, if he were to do this, he would say R&B and Pop.

He says he wants to be different from other artists and says that he wants to show his own colours.

He likes Jamie Foxx, Miguel, Nao and wants to work with Ruel.

He likes watching movies, specially ScyFy, and if the weather is good he likes to play basketball.

To people that wants to pursue music: finding your true self is the most important and he is still doing that himself.

He says having international fans is awesome and that it suddenly feels like his world is wider and brings a new perspective. He also wants to visit any place were there is a fan of his no matter how far.

One song he recommends: “I like many genres rather than just one thing. From what I’ve listened to lately, I would like to recommend “Remember Me” by Umi.

A song of his that he recommends: “Lee Sang”, because everyone tries to do something they want. I think there were times when it felt like something was getting farther and farther away.

When he feels down and feels about to guve up, he tells himself: “Believe in myself”.

A song he’s proud of is: “Drawing”, because there were a lot of difficulties in making the song but he overcame them.

NAFLA

His real name is Nicholas Choi and his Korean name is Choi SeokBae (최석배).

He was born on February 28th 1992.

He is from Pasadena, California.

He went to University of Southern California.

He was a member of MKIT Rain.

He is a member of 42 crew.

He is 162 cm - 169 cm.

He has an eyebrow piercing.

He likes to die his hair red.

The name Nafla means”Natural Flavour”. A friend of his thouht of this name after drinking something that said “100% Natural Flavor”.

He joined Groovl1n on December 22nd 2020.

He has a tattoo on his left arm.

He has collaborated with artists like Babylon, Dumbfoundead, Dynamic Duo and Woo Taewoon.

He would like to collaborate with Frank Ocean.

He went to Universit with Killagramz. They used to exchange messages through Facebook.

If he wasn’t in MAKIT Rain, he would like to be signed in 1llionaire.

As of 2016 he lived on his studio.

He has been friends with Ravi for a while.

After Show Me The Money he remained good friends with Kid Milli and often jokes around that he is a member of Mkit Rain.

He founded MKIT Rain with Loopy.

Some Mkit Rain members were involved in a marihuana scandal when they were caught smoking it, Nafla was one of them. He later made an Instagram post apologising for his behaviour. However, his charges were dropped since it was the first time he committed an upinfraction regarding this matter.

During his 60 second evalua in SMTM, The Quiett said it was the first time such a good quality rap and performance was shown on national tv.

When he gets dresses, he chooses his hat first and coordinates the outfit to compliment it.

His top favourite rappers (2016) are: #1 Gaeko, #2 Beenzino, #3 E-sens, #4 Lobsta, #5 G-Dragon.

He and Loopy met in a bathroom during a concert in the USA.

The car he won in SMTM777 was given to Loppy as a present to thank him for everything he had done for him.

He won SMTM777 with team Giriboy&Swings.

According to Loopy, Nafla was thinking about leaving MKIT Rain for a while and his leave was officially confirmed through Instagram on early December 2020.

He won Best Mixtape of the Year 2015 with “This & That”.

Nafla has a lot of respect for Just Music, specially Swings and Vasco.

Nafla was involved in a diss with CJamm. Neil, who was in the same crew as him, Young Creation, dissed CJamm and somehow Nafla got involved. It was nothing serious and there weren’t any bad feelings afterwards.

During SMTM777 he was selected as the leader on the group battle and every of his team members said he was really nice and helpful. Regarding this, he said he was happy to have Loopy by his side because he has a lot of experience and helped him a lot.

Source: https://kprofiles.com/chillin-homie-profile-and-facts/; https://kprofiles.com/ravi-vixx-profile-facts/; https://kprofiles.com/cold-bay-profile-facts/; https://kprofiles.com/xydo-profile-facts/; https://kprofiles.com/nafla-profile-facts/

[fumikomiyasaki]

Carol in different Universes

OG/Nicoronpa/Breathless Universe:

Carol in Nicoronpa fullfills the Role of the Ultimate Tutor, Always trying her best to Support her Classmates andncheer them Up. Not telling much more, you have to Play the Game yourself.

In Breathless she acts Seikos Tutor, helping her Balance Idol Work and School Work.

Twisted Wonderland universe:

This is still the Carol in the Nicoronpa universe, however she entered the world of TWST through a Dream and now assists the MC in their journeys. She tends to usually be occupied helping Ace and Deuce with their school Work. Trey usually helps her with learning how to Cook and she also plays Games with Idia a lot, but usually runs around during errands for Teachers and students. Once she awakes from her Dream she might forget her Friends but Not her Feelings towards them.

Genshin Impact Universe:

Carol was Born in Mondstadt however at a Young Age she and her parents Went to Liyue a Lot for vacations so she took huge interest in the country. She studied as researcher at first but then decided to become a Tourist Guide, showing her customers around the country and customs. She can be quite excited about certain Topic, for example Rex Lapis or the Jade chamber, however she keeps a Level head when presenting facts. She is a Dendro Spear User and a 4 Star unit.

Can be quite excitable about anything Liyue and also picks some Fights with treasure Hunters Sometimes, because to her they have No concern for History and Just steal without knowing the real value of the things they hold. She slightly holds a dislike towards Albedo but gets along Well with Succrose.

Persona Universe:

Carol is a Student at Kosei High and also does know Yusuke, however as the Phantom thieves started she didnt suspect hin really. She actually enjoyed the Stories about them and started to research and narrow down who they could be to assist then in a way. One day she saw them going Into Mementos and accidently landed there as Well. She tried her best to follow the Phantom thieves without getting caught my Shadows because her curiosity was too high… however eventually she was still spotted but saved thanks to Joker and His Friends. They wanted to Escort her Out of there, however more and more Shadows flooded Mementos. Carol felt cornered at First but she didnt want to be a burden to the Phantom thieves… Her Spirit of Rebellion awoke through Fighting her own Emotions and fear of losing Others around Her and so she awoke her Persona Eris. She took on the Codename Vert after and became a Person looking for things to do in Mementos for the Phantom thieves. She mostly Just fullfills her Role as Scout. Mostly uses Garu and Nuclear Magic. Buffs Defense.

Pokemon Universe:

Carol owns a Wellness Spa for Pokemon and Had the Trainer Type Aroma lady.

This is her Team:

As she was Young she was more researching Pokemon and wanted to become a Pokemon professor, however she felt researching Pokemons friendships and their feelings would be more interesting, so she started the Spa to investigate it. Nowadays she usually writes books and teaches Young Kids about how to treat their Pokemon right. She still hasnt fully given Up on her Dream, however she is Happy in how Things are.

Winx Club Universe:

Carol is the Fairy of Books and Went to Alfea to become a Teacher at the school one day. Professor Palladium was Always her Idol and she wanted to become similar to him. However she Has quite the hard time Fighting Out her powers even though she is pretty good in the school subjects. Some of her Main Powers are summoning Things from books, writing objects different or trapping Things in her books, but she also has some drawbacks. She still works hard to one day also become a Teacher.

ATLA Universe:

Carol is part of the earth Kingdom. She usually Works In a Restaurant to Help Out a friend but in between work she teaches children how to read and about the culture of each Kingdom. She started traveling the world and trying to research the old History of the Avatar. She also is pretty good at making Tea and very protective of her Students which is why she really did train earthbending a Lot.

______

Yakuza universe:

Carol manages a bar and some Host Clubs, mostly for giving people on the streets a Home who felt lost and didnt know Where to Go. Usually her Outfit is that of a Secretary and although she belongs to a big Company, she still is under protection of the Police but still helps Out the Yakuza in the Shadows. Its mostly If These Yakuza to her Prove to have good Intentions. So be carefull what Information you do give her and which Not, or the Police will arrest you at the Spot.

I also thought about doing Kingdom Hearts, Final Fantasy and Fire Emblem but I found it hard to place her... In Fire Emblem I can See her in three House be Part of the Blue lions probably.

[dweemeister]

Best Animated Short Film Nominees for the 93rd Academy Awards (2021, listed in order of appearance in the shorts package)

NOTE: For viewers in the United States (continental U.S., Alaska, and Hawai’i) who would like to watch the Oscar-nominated short film packages, click here. For virtual cinemas, you can purchase the packages individually or all three at once. You can find info about reopened theaters that are playing the packages in that link. Because moviegoing carries risks at this time, please remember to follow health and safety guidelines as outlined by your local, regional, and national health officials.

Continuing with one of my favorite Oscar-time traditions, here is an omnibus review of this year’s Academy Award nominees for Best Animated Short Film. This is an older category than many might believe to be, with some of the first nominees and winner including ‘30s and ‘40s fixtures: Disney’s Silly Symphonies, Warner Bros.’ Looney Tunes, MGM’s Tom and Jerry and Happy Harmonies. These days, the category tends to be more democratic (perhaps not so much this year), but certainly more experimental. Here are the nominees, as they appeared in the order of how they appeared in the short film packages released to theaters and virtual cinemas in the United States:

Burrow (2020)

Burrow, directed by Madeline Sharafian (story artist on 2017’s Coco, writer on Cartoon Network’s We Bare Bears), is the eighth in Pixar’s SparkShorts series, in which Pixar’s junior animators craft a short film on a limited budget and timeframe. This is the film that played in front of Soul for those lucky enough to view that film theatrically. This dialogue-free, hand-drawn film stars a young rabbit, looking to dig out and furnish her own home – complete with a bathroom-disco (or something like that). Her best-laid plans, however, seem dashed when she keeps digging and running into other animals’ underground abodes in this area. Not that these animals seem to mind the intrusions too much. The rabbit, so anxiety-driven in her eagerness to project a picture of self-assuredness, soon realizes that these nearby animals she fears to have disturbed are all neighbors, a community ready to lend a paw for the newcomer.

Sharafian credits her sense of impostors’ syndrome when first working at Pixar as the film’s primary thematic inspiration. With only a bare number of lines, the rabbit expresses a vast array of emotions, endearing the audience to her self-dramatization and youthful insecurity. Drawn flatly but nevertheless suggesting some depth, the cutaway animation depicting the burrow neighborhood recalls Richard Scarry’s books and other such colorful ensemble illustrations found in children’s picture books. Burrow is a worthy addition to Disney/Pixar’s animated short film legacy, despite the lack of innovation and obvious low-budget appeal (it uses the third movement of Mozart’s Oboe Concerto as its soundtrack), and seems like something that could have been made during the heyday of Silly Symphonies or Warner Bros.’ Merrie Melodies.

My rating: 7/10

Genius Loci (2020, France)

From the Latin term meaning “the spirit of a place”, Adrien Mérigeau’s Genius Loci is the most difficult, abstract film of this year’s slate of nominees. Genius Loci stars a young black woman named Reine (Nadia Moussa), a solitary soul who embarks upon, while walking the streets of Paris at night, an existential revelation. Reine, who is supposed to be babysitting her nephew that evening, decides to have a small adventure instead. She will find this experience and this Parisian neighborhood disorienting and chaotic, in many of the ways that life in a sprawling metropolis can be. The film’s sound mix clangs, whispers, vibrates, and echoes into Reine’s soul, injecting feelings of harmony, but mostly those of displacement. The distant rumbling of traffic is subliminal here, crescendoing and decrescendoing to control the film’s tension. Throughout, Mérigeau provides a fragmented narrative (do not fixate on the plot) and the protagonist’s intangible, occasionally abstruse, narration. Spiritual and existential loss colors Reine’s ambling, as well as a sense of modern France’s racial otherizing that makes the city feel unwelcoming, if not antagonistic.

Mérigeau (background cleanup on 2009’s The Secret of Kells, art director on 2014’s Song of the Sea) collaborated with Belgian comic illustrator Brecht Evens (production designer on the excellent Marona’s Fantastic Tale from 2019) for the film’s dumbfounding backgrounds, as well as storyboarding the changes in aesthetic as Reine continues her journey through Paris. Marona’s influence is felt keenly throughout Genius Loci – from the lack of recognizably human figures among strangers to Reine and the ever-changing color scheme. Unlike Marona, Genius Loci commits to watercolors (or computerized animation meant to resemble watercolor paints) during the film’s entirety. The watercolor animation serves to loosen the character animation and the backgrounds’ definition, and serves as a paragon of expressionist animation. Genius Loci will bewilder audiences, challenging them to understand Reine’s painful attempt to find belonging and solace in a place that disallows such reflection.

My rating: 8.5/10

Opera (2020, South Korea)

Opera, directed by Erick Oh (an animator at Berkeley-based Tonko House, which crafted the 2014 nominee The Dam Keeper), is an independent South Korean/American production that owes more to Sandro Botticelli and Hieronymus Bosch than anything ever seen in animated cinema. This is a cinematic fresco teeming with activity, intended more as interactive art than for a movie theater. The setting is a pyramid filled with souls living, laboring, luxuriating, dying. As the camera pans downward from the godlike or prophet-like figures occupying the top, it later zooms outward, all timed alongside a day-night cycle. Opera’s story is that of human history, distilled in eight minutes of repetitive activity. The design of Oh’s film is as a museum installation – projected on a wall or the ground (the only instance Opera has been screened as such was at the Ars Electronica Animation Festival in Linz, Austria) – that loops continuously, and, if one looks closely enough at the pyramid’s sections, there are loops within the film’s loops. If viewed in a museum, Opera does not pan selectively as it does if projected in a theater or a home media screen.

Pieced together in between Oh’s other film projects over four years and a pandemic, Oh and his animators (some of whom participated voluntarily, without pay) concentrated on different sections of the pyramid at a time, synchronizing the action in a specific section to match the surrounding areas – and, ultimately, the film as a whole. Opera contains intricacies impossible to realize on first, second, third viewings. Even in its limited, virtual cinema form, it engulfs the viewer in its hierarchical animation, the intentionally simplistic character animation serving to universalize the drama of its beings’ existence. It is rapturous art, the sort that defies description, and undoubtedly will echo across Oh’s subsequent films.

My rating: 8.5/10

If Anything Happens I Love You (2020)

For some American viewers, I imagine that this title alone has already spoiled the film’s content even without seeing any footage. A Netflix production directed by Will McCormack (co-writer on 2019’s Toy Story 4) and Michael Govier (bit roles in American television), If Anything Happens I Love You is the only nominee in this category directed by individuals with no background in directing animation. McCormack and Govier met at acting school; acting remains their primary profession. Without dialogue, the film opens with two parents eating dinner at opposite ends of the table. They seem aloof, their minds elsewhere. The background is spare, with only a jumble of pencil sketches making sense of any barriers enclosing them. Flexible, animated silhouettes appear from their bodies – sometimes arguing vigorously with each other, at times shadowing the person and attempting to call their attention. Grief overhangs their household, expressed through a largely monotone palette, minimalistic designs and backgrounds. The background artists exclude any detail unnecessary to the story.

Written and crafted in collaboration with (so as to not spoil the film, I am about to opaquely write about this film’s intentions) a prominent, deep-pocketed political non-profit so as to shear the film of any thematic excess, If Anything Happens I Love You has, unlike its fellow nominees, broad support among certain prominent actors in Hollywood. Laura Dern is the executive producer and various actors – including Chelsea Handler, Rashida Jones, and Lesley Ann Warren, among others – have openly contributed or advocated for this movie. The visualization of the parents’ pain, even without dialogue, brings the viewer into a space unfathomable to most, unbearable for those who know too well. The use of the King Princess song “1950” meshes awkwardly with what is being portrayed on-screen at the time. But the character animation – McCormack and Govier’s experience as actors endows the couple with indelible humanity – and its visual discipline carry the film to its heartbreaking conclusion.

My rating: 8/10

Yes-People (2020, Iceland)

Icelandic film Já-Fólkið (Yes-People) is the epitome of cheap European computer-generated animation. Directed by Gísli Darri Halldórsson (a former Cartoon Network Studios character animator), Yes-People – the Best Icelandic Short winner at the 2020 Reykjavik International Film Festival and the Children’s Choice Award winner at 2020’s Nordisk Panorama – is a largely aimless movie following the zany lives of the people who live in an apartment complex. That is all I have to say about the film’s narrative. The sketches it draws in each character’s life always feel disjointed and disconnected from all the others – save one scene of the elderly couple fornicating loud enough for their downstairs neighbors to hear. Halldórsson describes his film as a mosaic of personalities, but even a mosaic has a thematic consistency that unifies its disparate parts.

The desaturated colors of Yes-People are meant to resemble old photographs. As much as I respect what Halldórsson is aiming for, the results make the film look muddy, half-rendered – like a knockoff Pixar short from the early 1990s. Inspired when Halldórsson described to some of his Irish friends about the different tonal meanings of the word “Já” (“hello” in Icelandic), Yes-People only has one repeated word of dialogue throughout: “Já”. Is this supposed to be funny? Philosophical? I am not sure; and I am not sure the film knows it either. Reading some of Halldórsson’s interviews following his Academy Award nomination, he mentions that the film’s positive response from Iceland and Scandinavia might be culturally specific, as opposed to other parts of the world. As to what those cultural differences might be that prevented me from liking this film, I hardly have a clue.

My rating: 6/10

^ All ratings based on my personal imdb rating. Half-points are always rounded down. My interpretation of that ratings system can be found in the “Ratings system” page on my blog (as of July 1, 2020, tumblr is not permitting certain posts with links to appear on tag pages, so I cannot provide the URL).

For more of my reviews tagged “My Movie Odyssey”, check out the tag of the same name on my blog.

Three other films played in this package as honorable mentions: Kapaemahu (2020; 7.5/10), The Snail and the Whale (2019; 6.5/10), and To: Gerard (2020; 6.5/10).

From previous years: 85th Academy Awards (2013), 87th (2015), 88th (2016), 89th (2017), 90th (2018), 91st (2019), 92nd (2020).

[det-loki]

poison & wine part six

“Do you fight for pride or glory?”

warnings: angst, blood mention, snakes, panic attack

pairing: detective loki x fem reader

word count: 2,091

A/N: this is a shorter chapter, but it’s heavy and I didn’t want to weigh it down by continuing on, so I broke it up for next chapter. enjoy! <3

1  2  3  4  5   ⌽

David and you pulled up to a small home that the man from the vigil supposedly lived in. Jill, from the Value Mall, called Loki after he had shown up again, buying children’s clothes yet again. She relayed the license plate number to David, who was able to track him down in minutes with the help of dispatch.

Loki knocked on the door three times and then stood back to wait, quickly glancing at you and nodding reassuringly. The door handle turned, the door moving only as far as to show the man from the vigil’s face as Loki and you held your badges up.

The man was dressed in a khaki-colored button-up with a tie, seemingly put together, yet his eyes held a frantic look. Like a caged animal, unable to escape the confinement of a maze. 

Loki plastered a fake smile onto his face as the man nervously looked between the two of you, “Mornin’.”

A long pause occurred as the man, Bob Taylor, turned his gaze to you, eyes traveling down your body slowly. Loki clearing his throat loudly caused the man’s eyes to dart away from you and back to Loki.

“Why’d you run away from me the other night, man?’ The man looked Loki up and down nervously before shaking his head, “I’ve never seen you before. Are you sure you have the right house?”

You stepped closer to the door, a smile plastered to your face, “You been doing some shopping at the Value Mall lately?”

The man’s eyes widened microscopically before he turned his expression neutral,” Yeah. Why, is it a crime to shop there?” He motions at Loki’s buttoned shirt and coat, “I can’t afford to buy suits from Brooks Brothers.” 

“You bought children’s clothes.” Loki pulled a smile onto his face as he spoke to Taylor, whose face had gone pale at the mention of children’s clothes. Loki’s face quickly went dark and stoic again. You each held your own version of this man in your head, he was the only suspect you had that made the most sense at this point in time. 

“Did I? I must have been in a hurry.” The man’s eyes darted nervously between you and David, eyes staying longer on you than Loki.

“Do you have children?” You and Loki already knew the answer.

The man shook his head slowly, eyes darting to the ground, “No...I don’t have…”

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Loki position his foot against the door as Bob braced against it, failing to close it as Loki barged his way in. The man went flying back as Loki took hold of him and threw him against a wall, the awful crack of a broken nose filling the air. You shut the door behind you as Loki shoved the man against the ground and cuffed him.

You drew your gun from your hip to provide cover as Loki cuffed the man and then drew his weapon, “You move and I’ll put a bullet through your fucking head.”

You averted your gaze from Loki holding Bob Taylor down and took notice of your surroundings. Mazes were drawn all over every square inch of the walls and doors. What the fuck?

Your nose picked up on a horrible stench from the kitchen. Your stomach was doing flips and your brain was screaming at you, please don’t be those girls.

You slowly advanced towards the flies buzzing in the kitchen with your gun drawn as Loki called in for back up behind you, “This is 13-40 and 13-43. I need an additional unit for search. 437 Carrol Street. Possible kidnapping victims on the premises.”

The walls were the same in this kitchen, mazes everywhere. Piles of empty plastic bags were on the kitchen table. You walked further into the kitchen to find a pig’s head in the sink with a wig on it, flies hoarding around it, and its foul odor. 

You turned around to follow Loki through the halls of the home, covered in drawings of mazes. You opened door after door to find nothing. Loki came to the last door and tried to open it to no avail. Locked. He braced himself and jammed his shoulder into the wood of the door, not budging. You positioned yourself behind Loki and in front of the door with your weapon as Loki hit the door again, this time the wood splintered away, allowing you and Loki to enter. 

Dozens of black industrial crates littered the floor and your stomach and heart sank. You weren’t a religious woman despite the numerous accounts of religious imagery in your life, but at this moment you prayed to whatever God or divine being that would listen. Please don’t let these girls be in there.

Your eyes darted to David’s icy blue ones before you both sprung into action. You stayed in the room and called out for the girls while David took the suspect to the car and got a crowbar to try to get the lids off. 

The heavy weight of the crowbar was placed into your hand. Cold.

You got one crate open, your hands frantically ripping off the top and searching through the contents. Snakes. Live snakes. And bloody clothes. You felt like someone turned off the oxygen in your lungs, breath getting erratic and heart-pounding as you jerked back against the wall as snakes began to spill over the top of the crate and over your feet. 

Your shaking hands started on another crate, although you couldn’t get it open due to the tremble of your hands and the blur of tears in your eyes. You should be stronger. To save them. To save her.

You fumbled through three more crates alongside Loki before you couldn’t any longer. 

“I can’t, David, I can’t.” You looked at David with terror in your eyes as he continued to sort through the remaining crates of bloody clothes and snakes, stopping to read whatever papers he had found in the last crate.

If you finish all the mazes you can go home.

“Go, go. Let’s go.” He knew exactly what set you off. The bloody clothes.

You ran out of the house ahead of David as fast as your exhausted legs would take you, landing on your hands and knees as you fought for breath. Your lungs were expanding and contracting rapidly but you couldn’t catch your breath, a fire had set in your lungs. Your fingers dug into the frozen ground, dirt and dried grass catching underneath your fingernails. Your body was in front of the home on Carrol Street, but your brain was reliving the day you lost your little girl. You sobbed and screamed, reaching for her body that wasn’t there, desperate to touch her one more time. Images of needles and her bloody pink shirt made your eyes blurry and head pound.

Someone touching your shoulder caused you to jump back, eyes frantically searching for who the hand belonged to. Your eyes saw his black boots first, then his face came into view as he knelt down in front of you, hands on your shoulders. 

“David, David, she-is she? Are they?” The words tumbled from your lips, sending a dagger straight in Loki’s heart.

“No, no. Just clothes and snakes. Fuck. Fuck!” David tore his eyes away from your crying ones, yelling, his breath turning into cold clouds floating through the air. You could hear police sirens approaching in the distance as David still had you in his embrace, the only thing keeping you from crumbling apart on the frozen grass. 

Your breath was still ragged, uneven pants escaping your lips as your eyes searched Loki’s face, your hands clutching his coat with white knuckles. You had officially broken. Your soul shattered into a million pieces, some you were sure you would never get back. Some were already six feet under with your little girl.  This town ruined you three times over, staining your heart with black ink, spilling over to Loki’s stained soul as well. Two broken souls in a small town only able to keep the other alive. 

The fluorescent lights were giving you a headache as you sat in a cold conference room staring at the grain of the wood table you were sat at. Loki was compiling photos of the contents of the crates, preparing to call the Birch family in to see if they could identify any of the clothing. Your eyes felt puffy and bloodshot, you were sure you looked awful. Your eyes moved from the table to Loki, he looked as bad as you did; dark circles overpowering his eyes, stubble more pronounced  on his jaw. He held the look of a father in pain, ready to tear the world apart to find the little girls that reminded him far too much of his own little girl, despite never meeting the missing pair.

Franklin and Nancy Birch came into the room, each holding an expression that no parent should hold. You were all too familiar; the pain, regret and anger creating a sour expression void of anything good. Beside you, Loki’s hand moved under the table to find your hand, squeezing it gently in reassurance before he began the meeting. 

“So we’ve taken photographs of some of the clothing we found in the suspect’s house.” Neither Franklin or Nancy said a word, only nodding. Loki shuffled through dozens of photographs before he got to one that caused the atmosphere in the room to shatter. A purple shirt with a deer on it. You could hear the sharp intake of breath from Nancy before she jolted up and out of the room, Franklin shakily apologizing before following after his wife. You hated your job.

You remained in the conference room as Loki got up to go get the Dover’s. You took a deep breath in, attempting to calm yourself. There were times like now where you wondered why you were doing this, and the cause. You could only chalk it up to the butterfly effect, everything already written in the stars. Or something. Anything.

Keller Dover was alone, his wife not able to come to the meeting. You didn’t blame her.

“So he confessed? He said he killed them?” Bob Taylor had begun the interrogation process, claiming he killed the two little girls, but there were still unanswered questions and no bodies. You were the one he confessed to, his nose dripping blood while he did so. You were sure that image would haunt you in the rare times that you did sleep. 

“We were hoping he was lying, but we haven’t found any bodies, Mr. Dover, but the Birches positively identified two pieces of clothing. I’m gonna need you to tell me if you recognize anything.” Loki spoke softly to Keller, explaining what was happening. 

Loki began filing through photos again, looking to Mr. Dover for confirmation after every photo. You watched his face after looking at each photo that was placed in front of him, pain and sorrow, his lips quivering in suspense. His face changed as Loki placed another photo in front of him. He took the picture in his hands, the photo shaking with his grasp as he stared at it. Your heart sunk. 

“That-that’s her…that’s her sock.” A bloody sock with a baby pink bunny on it. Keller began to cry. Beside you, Loki was obviously uncomfortable and angry, as were you. David’s fists clenched and unclenched as he shifted in his seat, angry at the world and himself. 

“You-you wasted time. You two wasted time following me.” Keller looked at Loki as he spoke, moving the photo of the sock on the table in his direction, pointing at it, “You let this happen.” Keller left the room, leaving you and Loki in deafening silence. 

“This isn’t- we didn't let this happen, Loke.” You didn’t know what else to say, so you stopped talking, watching David as he brought a hand to his face and his eyes blinked harshly. He was falling apart on the inside, blaming himself for everything. He was broken. You both were. Yet the pair of you fit together like puzzle pieces, broken and all. Yet, you were afraid this case would destroy the both of you irreparably. You lowered your head to lay on the cool wood of the table as Loki sat beside you, letting the silence choke you.

You didn’t think you were going to make it out of this case alive.

taglist:  @lexie-wayland @whew-oh-em-gee @winterlavenderskysworld​ @buck-this-nasty @heeyirenee @pinkpunkdynamite @eleventhdoctorsangel @multiyfandomgirl40 @thanossexual​ @speedybonkuniversityzine​ @booklove103​ @curly-q3

[twc-thoughts-you-didnt-ask-for]

Bundle - Felix -

Okay, this took forever because of writer’s block (I’m so sorry) but after spamming UB parent hcs I have it in me to get work done. I really, really wanted to give Felix’s child their eyes but because it would be human I don’t think they can inherit them :’(

I am pretty nervous about this one since this is my first big thing since (hopefully) getting over my writer’s block. So hopefully it’s not too too bad. 

Here are links to the other parts: Adam / Mason / 

Fic under the read more, would love to hear any feedback you may have~

This was unfair, unjust, and undeniably a cruel and unusual punishment. 

Admittedly, Felix was not the most patient person in the world, he never pretended to be, but come on. 

“Felix, chill out, I feel like your excitement is rubbing on me and not in the good wa-”

“Mason, please, there is a child being born as we speak can you please not be grotesque for just one day?” Nate said, cutting Mason off while looking like he was in pain. 

“How could you not be excited? Or antsy? I barely had the strength to wait, like, nine months to meet the little guy. It wasn’t easy and now that the day is finally here... Well I don’t have it in me to contain myself much longer.”

At Felix’s verbalization of exactly what he was thinking, the impatience only got worse. They are now upgrading from fidgeting to pacing. 

“Aaaaaand,” Felix continued,” we’re getting a new member of our family today! A little mini detective. Show some enthusiasm, you perpetual grump.” 

“Have you considered that your child will be just like you and not the detective?” Adam asked from the place Felix deemed Adam’s “broody spot”. 

“First of all, it’s not my child, it’s our child. Second of all... uh... not really. It’s a lot cuter to think of them as a little detective, don’t you think? All freckly, shy, and cute? Oh, and the natural ability to just get a rise out of our dear leader too. Can’t forget that. It has to be a recessive gene, I would think.”

Adam visibly tensed.

Smoke plumed from where Mason sat. 

“You and the detective mixed together in the form of a child will no doubt be the thing of Adam’s worst nightmares before they even learn how to crawl.”

“No more smoking inside, Mason, that’s an order.” Adam interjected, clearly avoiding the topic of how much the little family would team up against him. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Just like when we got the news that the detective was pregnant. I figured I would take advantage of this moment since she’s preoccupied and not here waddling around.” 

Oh. Oh no. Felix forgot about how the waddling would cease once the child was out into the world and he would genuinely miss it. 

There was something about the detective waddling around, heavy with his child, that was so captivating and endearing that Felix could have fallen in love with the detective all over again. Even without her being actively being there, the imagery of the memory was enough to make his heart so full that he could burst.

Nobody ever warned him about how deadly and cute the waddling would be. Like an arrow from cupid’s bow shot right through his heart. 

Felix couldn’t count how many times he had looked at Unit Bravo and the detective and just marveled. Was a third party to everything around him like he weren’t involved so he could just... bask in it. Nate was constantly reading baby books and was always at the ready to help the oh so swollen detective ease into a comfortable sitting position. Adam was making direct orders to ensure that the baby’s health would not be at risk in or out of the womb and was personally baby-proofing their living spaces to make sure it happened. Even Mason was following the strict new rules to a “T”, even the smoking ones, and could be persuaded to rub the detective’s aching feet rather easily. Especially when Dinah asked sweetly. Mason would moan and groan about it the whole time, but he did it nonetheless. 

Felix was there being the designated crier. He soaked up all the hormonal breaking points that the detective was supposed to have as the pregnant one. 

Even now, Felix could feel his eyes watering when he thought about his amazing life. This life of people who chose him. A place where he belonged and was accepted no matter what. Where love and loyalty was so certain, nobody ever had to question if it were there. You just knew. 

Felix felt so... blessed that he was able to give all of this to his child. This life that they were constantly building and adding on to. This type of life where you felt chosen- no questions asked. 

Felix interrupted whatever conversation the rest of his unit was having with a sniffle and a “I’m just so happy I have all of you and for all of you to be here” leaking out from his inner monologue. 

Mason scoffed, but it was one of his friendly ones that roughly translated to “duh”, Nate placed a reassuring hand on Felix’s shoulder that translated to “Where else would we be?”, and Adam had that stern look that translated to “We will always be together so why bother saying unnecessary things?”. 

Anything Felix might have said was wiped out of his mind as soon as he heard the shrill sound of a cry. 

Tears shoved to the wayside, Felix broke out into a massive grin and was about to make his way to the door if it weren’t for Nate’s hand still on Felix’s shoulder. 

“We really ought to wait for Elidor. He wouldn’t be please if you rushed in and-”

“Elidor loves me. What’s the worst that could happen if I show up just a teensy bit early?”

“You won’t win this one, Nate, just let him go.” Mason said from round two of his detective-free smoking opportunity. “We’ll wait to be summoned like the good, rule-abiding agents we are.” 

It was showtime. 

Felix did what he did best, go fast. He rushed to the room where the detective and their newborn was. 

...He did slow down as soon as he saw Elidor already standing outside the door, as if waiting for Felix, with his arms crossed and a disapproving look upon his face. 

“I knew you wouldn’t listen.”

Oof... to be caught immediately was a hit to the pride. Felix resorted to puppy eyes to get out of a lecture. 

“You know those never work on me. You’re lucky that I hold the detective in high esteem and that you just became a father. As congratulations, I will not berate you and let you go in and see the detective. The smell of her blood lingers... but I trust you.”

Felix almost hugged him, but definitely thought better of it before acting upon it. 

Entering the room, Felix zeroed in on the detective holding the tiniest little bundle that he felt like could not have caused how large she had gotten. She was enraptured in what was in the blanket, cooing and making little kissy faces, that Felix took the moment to secretly snap a picture of the sight that left him breathless. 

She was not allowed to know he had that or she would make him delete it. 

Dinah was sweaty, red, exhausted, had dried streaks of tears trailing down her face, hair an absolute mess, beautiful, amazing, strong, and impossibly his. 

He practically skipped to her side. 

“Hello, love of my life.” he said cheerily, encouraged by her giggling, as he pressed a kiss to her damp cheek. 

He looked into the bundle as he said: “Hello, love of my life #2.”

This baby was all Felix. Dark skin and a surprising amount of what was definitely Felix’s dark, coiled hair. Not a freckle to be seen and Felix had to hope that when the baby would open their eyes that the detective would be somewhere in there. 

Luckily the detective couldn’t question if the baby was even hers. 

“Well, isn’t he cute?” Dinah asked expectedly. “He looks just like his dad already.”

“Are you saying you think I’m cute?”

“Felix- I literally, and actively, made a child with you. I don’t think whether I think you’re attractive or not can be questioned.. Now please compliment the human I worked very hard on to make.”

“He is unbelievably cute, I’m a big fan of your work, but I was hoping for a freckle or two.”

“I’ll take a 4/5 star rating. I don’t think babies are usually born with freckles, so technically we’ll say you gave my work a perfect rating. And, who knows, maybe he’ll have a whole constellation across his face someday.”

Felix adored the sound of that. God, he loved just the idea of there being a “someday”. He just... he just....

Dinah reached to swipe under his eyes, confidently holding their baby in one arm.  

“Oh... my poor love... you know it breaks my heart to see you cry like this. Even if they’re happy tears. And I do hope those are happy tears.”

He didn’t even realize he had been crying. What a mess he had become and the rest of their lives hadn’t even started. This was literally the first moments of day one. 

“Of course they’re happy tears. God, what an amazing life we’re living. What an amazing world this is. What an amazing family I have. What an amazing love I’ve found...” 

And Felix went on like that for as long as she allowed him to. 

Felix was not a patient man, but when he looked at Dinah, their child, and he family he had found he wished that forever would slow down. That the days would never have an end. 

That he could enjoy this life that chose him for longer than even forever allowed.