#wanted to do a whole page but honestly these two panels felt like enough

[pand1on]

I was possessed with the need to draw @starrjoy's wonderful versions of Aleena and Bernadette a few days ago and here we are! Nothing bad ever happens :)

[cuephrase]

Are there any individual issues/short sections of the Tom Taylor Nightwing run you'd say are still worth checking out as little standalone/self contained things? I've read and enjoyed the 2021 annual (blood brothers) after seeing enough about it on tumblr but don't know much about the rest, and you've mention individual issues in other rec posts so it got me curious (and it's completely fine if you don't think you can recommend any).

asking me to be nice about TT?! *sighs* turns out i can be, actually, but um. only a little.

i'll preface all of this by saying, if you're interested in reading his run, you should. other people disliking a run is like...idk if this is going to make sense, but it's kind of like knowing the weather. you'll be like "hey, there's rain" and then you can either a) choose not to go outside, b) grab a coat and umbrella, or c) pull on a swimsuit and go dance. no wrong choices! maybe you get outside and it's more of alight drizzle, or maybe it's basically a tropical storm and you book it back inside and start batting down the hatches.

i could present you with people who's overall taste in comics i agree with who hate and love this run- actually, i was super hyped to read this run bc most of the people i'd talked to were like "OMG ITS SOOOO GOOD!!" and i was like "OKAY!!!" and then i was like 😗👉👈 maybe idk what good comics are?? (baby comic-reading cue felt wayyyy to new to the genre to trust their own opinions lmao. we're mostly past that now.)

but okay!! to answer your question: so post issue #91 is where my overall enjoyment of the run went like *imitates plane falling and crashing noises*. which. upon skimming from 78 to 91, i don't think i can say i was loving it that whole time, more like my tolerance threshold maxed out around there. bc uh. skimming i was like...yikes. i've also read way more Nightwing comics since, so like that could be factor.

ANYWAYS. me being nice:

#80 has some decent dick and tim!

#89 opens with a nice batman/superman/nightwing story, honestly can't remember if i liked the two-issue mini, but i'm going to guess i didn't bc even though i just looked i recall ✨nothing✨

#90-91 is a fun dick and wally adventure, if i remember correctly???? wally stans don't shoot me, i haven't read a whole lot of him idk if he's written well here i'm sorry

#111-112 is decent. it's not like. groundbreaking. but yk. maybe i just liked it more than the stupid pirate arc and maybe my standards are low and Good Dad Bruce is a weak spot, IDK

ummmm past that?

i like this page from #79

this panel is from #83 if you want to like see it with your own eyes on page.

the Hug is in issue #100, which is a bigger to celebrate 100 issues, and it happens later, i think it's the third story? some people love that scene, others can't stand it, i am a whore for soft batfam moments so it's very precious to me, and also nice moments make bad ones hurt more what?

if you like dickbabs you might enjoy more issues too, i was neutral about dickbabs and this run made me...not neutral. but i've heard from people that do like dickbabs that they don't like how they're written here so also, maybe you won't like it even if you like dickbabs??

but yeah!! these are my not-hated TT nightwing issues. i think there are a decent amount where i liked a line or panel here or there, but like overall most of it is just...not my fave. but you could like it!! which, i feel like it's worth saying that it's totally valid if you end up engaging with the run more and liking it. you wouldn't be the only person in the world to like it. but it's also ending in 4 issues thank god, so um don't get too attached if you end up digging it lmao

the red hood annual is also the annual i've liked for this run, i actually love that issue sm lol. the second annual is all about the Lamest Most Scariest Villain Ever, boring, and then the most recent was all about bea, dick's love interest in his ric era, which i was excited for...and hated. that one isn't even on TT, tho. travis moore your gorgeous dick is not enough to redeem you on that one. WAIT I DIDN'T MEAN IT LIKE THAT-

thanks for the ask anon!! always good to practice loving your enemies i mean, i hope this helps, have fun <3

[zaenaris]

I feel like ch.264 gave us more questions than answers

Don’t get me wrong, it’s very interesting to see Mikey’s POV , but in this chapter we didn’t have many groundbreaking revelations

Drakemma first meeting was so cute and precious, but we know their story ended before it could even start even if they loved each other. I will always thank Wakui for adding their first meeting, but it’s also so sad😭

It was nice seing Toman’s birth from Mikey’s POV but we still do not know why Sanzu, that seemed to always follow Mikey like a puppy and is one of his oldest friends (are they even friends, I wonder, or they’re just acquaintances?) only gets one panel in the whole chapter. It’s. weird. It is almost like Sanzu has always been a second-rate “friend” to Mikey, the one that tag along, never under the spotlight but always there. It’s missing something to clearly understand their relationship.

I’ve always been under the impression Sanzu was more like a “servant” to Mikye’s “king” and the fact Mikey didn’t spare a world for Sanzu in this chapter kind of cement this belief of mine. But again, we will see, especially if we’ll ever get Sanzu’s POV. Because honestly, if the flashback from the previous chapter where we saw again Mikey’s attacking Sanzu was supposed to mean he acted like that because he had just lost his mom... Idk, it could have been explained better imho.  I hope there’s more but if there’s not and it’s just “Mikey is like this because he couldn’t deal with his mom’s death + toxic masculinity and the idea you don’t have to cry and you have to be strong”... I mean, okay, but I feel it could have been explained better? Idk, I hope we’ll get more context

It’s super sad that Mikey was going to Shinichiro’s shop because Shin called him and just finished working on Mikeys’ birthday gift, his beloved Babu, only to see the aftermath of his friends accidentally killing his brother. But again, why the hell would Shin call Mikey in the middle of the night to show him his birthday present six days/one week before his actual birthday? It is just as weird as the fact Baji, that knew and admired Shinichiro, didn’t realize they were trying to steal a bike from his shop. This thing never made sense to me, never. Especially since we have seen that Baji kept being aroung Mikey even after the airplane thing with Sanzu and it would have made sense seeing Shin/talking about him

It’s interesting tho that Mikey decided to expand Toman after Shinichiro’s death and that Pah and Mitsuya were kind of against it. Draken instead was okay with Mikey’s plans. Once again we have seen Mikey trying to be strong and not to cry even after Shin passing. 

Idk, I wonder if Mikey’s idea to expand Toman was more like something he felt he had to do to live up to his brother’s status among delinquents (especially since Toman has never been his idea in the first place, but Baji’s) rather than something he genuinely wants.

On the other hand “strong alone is not enough” is something positive imo. So maybe, being surrounded by many people was the right path, even if it started in an ambiguous way

Last chapter explained us something about Mikey’s parents, but nothing followed this week on that side. I would like to hear his opinion on his parent, but maybe it’s not the moment yet

Anyway, this whole chapter, while sad and bittersweet, feels like a prelude to the next one, where’s we will see Takemichi and Kisaki, the two driving forces of the story. Probably this chapter would be more satisfying in the volume, as an introduction to ch. 265

Chapter 265 that we’ll have to wait for 2 weeks but that will be 26 pages long + a color page, so okay, we can wait

[class1akids]

ngl, the newest chapter did not make me feel very hyped for the final battle. most of the pre-2nd war set-up has been dedicated to plot/exposition dumping & spotlighting aoyama, a character we hardly knew up until now, rather than giving proper reflection time to the characters we know and love. feels like HK just REALLY wanted to hammer in that "two formally quirkless kids leading the charge" imagery. a lot of the key emotional build-up to this moment just feels missing to me.

Yeah, if you read my blog, you know that I'm not a fan either. I feel like the proportions are all wrong, and I honestly have lost a lot of connection to the story when we ended the war at hurt/no comfort for all my faves.

In the post-war, the only person who gets support is Deku (and afterwards Aoyama), while everyone else is just "bounces back" off-screen, with us being left guessing why or how - only to give full support to Deku, who in return doesn't seem to care about anyone (except Aoyama).

Bakugou's near-death experience, Shouto's family's public disgrace, Momo's two mentors dying, Mina freezing up in her big moment, Ochako witnessing the civilian losses while heroes are quitting left and right, Shoji's and Tokoyami's experience as mutants in this new, anti-mutant world - just some of the things the narrative completely skipped and pretends doesn't exist. The only person getting a hype talk from Aizawa is Aoyama.

I am not against previously unexplored Class-A characters getting arcs (I've been rooting for a Shoji-arc for forever), but I felt that Aoyama's traitor plotline fell flat (and has been one of the big criticism always against the biggest traitor candidates, Hagakure and Aoyama - they are not embedded enough into the class to really get a good emotional punch out of it):

- the "discovery" was so lame... No tension, no feeling of jeopardy - just a full exposition of all the reasons and Aoyama being reluctant right off the bat

- Aoyama getting no choice or agency - ok, this can be a valid way to go, but then it felt so fake how much the story kept leaning into the "I'm a filthy villain" label, when obviously, he was mostly just a victim

- "saving Aoyama" was way too straightforward. There was no serious debate, the only "resistance" is Tsukauchi, who is also just a side-character few care about. The consequences of Aoyama's betrayal so far removed in time, that it was difficult to feel anything about it.

With this set-up - it was obvious that Aoyama was not betraying Deku, and the whole "portal-in" was telegraphed with Monoma also shown last chapter. Hori still making a bathroom joke out of "Aoyama's heroic stance" completely killed (the already very little) mood I had for this and the pay-off for 300+ panels upwards on this storyline feels pretty wasted.

I felt more about that single page in Shouto's room last chapter than I felt about the entire Aoyama plotline, tbh.

And then, as we are entering the endgame, the kids - even Deku - still feel like pawns in all this, while All Might, Hawks, Aizawa are calling the shots - and they are just good little child-soldiers doing their parts. So they'll have a single fight to "surpass even All Might" - which right now just looks like a tall order.

I'm fairly certain that the plan will fall apart, giving the kids later a chance to rise - but I can't look at the post-war Chapters 306-343 and not feel like so much story-potential was squandered and all the wrong things got highlights in the wrong ways. (Like All Might's main influence being Stain, while he never actually talked to let's say Bakugou or discovered his hero name or referenced him saving Deku). Honestly this arc felt almost more like a development for post-Kamino All Might realizing that he can still be a hero with so much focus on his legacy, but without an honest stocktaking.)

I'm here now to the bitter end - and I'm sure we'll get the occasional great moment (like Bakugou's apology was), but I'm readying myself for more disappointment (where HK will draw 3 chapters of Mirko's thighs with no character work and give 5 panels to close the arcs of half the class where you have to guess an entire off-screen story.)

Btw, I didn't think the visual was necessarily "two quirkless kids" against AFO, but that the "villain you save" can become your greatest asset. But it's so hard to think of Aoyama as a villain, because the story just took the easy out on him at every turn.

As flat as this was, I really hope we are done with Aoyama's teary face which feels like cheap melodrama to me at this point and can concentrate on some other characters.

[2jaeh]

Bibliophile | Xiaojun x Reader

Genre: fluff, smut

Word count: 2,3k

Warnings: mature themes

Author: SIN

Two literature master students decide to make their steamy romance troupe debates a reality.

——————————————————————————

Your heels clicked against the marble floors as you ran over to the university library, hoping the evening rain wouldn’t worsen when you crossed the open courtyard.

Most of the students were either heading back to their dorm rooms or messing around in the common areas, while the only thing that rang in your head was to not be late for your part-time job at the restricted section of the library.

At first you had no damn clue why they needed someone to work there, especially since some of the books were even restricted to lecturers. But thanks to your century old university and their obsession with keeping their sacred books in pristine condition, all they needed was a literature masters student to help out from time to time.

You entered the library and greeted the woman at the front desk before she buzzed you in through to the door that led upstairs to the restricted area.

You quickly jogged up the stares and swung open the door only to be greeted by the only other person working around here, Xiao Dejun.

“You’re late again” his lips curled into a smile as he pushed up his gold framed glasses and inspected a dust covered book.

“Yeah the rain was just-“

“Crazy ?” Dejun peered up and pursed his lips, knowing that every excuse you had always ended in the same word.

“Yeah crazy” you half chuckled and removed your burgundy coat, making your way over to sign in the shift card.

All you knew about Dejun was that he finished his masters and was offered a lecture position at the university but decided to take up this job instead. He was very reserved and once told you that he craved the utter peacefulness of the restricted area, where he was usually either on his own or with you.

“I’m halfway on my thesis now” you said casually as you started fixing the binding of a physics book from the 70s.

“Oh?” Dejun raised his eyebrow and pulled out a chair next to you to tend to his own book repair, “I’m sure you’re glad it’s almost over right?”

You squinted your eyes and sighed, burying your head in your hands as that familiar migraine began to set in. “I’m....stuck” you groaned and peered up at Dejun, “I decided to dissect the romance genre of literature and honestly most of it is hot garbage.”

Dejun let out a laugh and you admired how his dark eyebrows knitted together, making his face look quite animated.

“What books have you studied if you don’t mind me asking ?” Dejun asked, his curious eyes met with yours as he shifted closer in his chair.

“Everything from Shakespeare to Nicolas Sparks, I just hate them all” you pouted and slumped back in your chair, moving the half bound book aside,

“Don’t get me wrong, I chose romance because I love it you know ? I just don’t think that those ‘classics’ do it any justice.”

Dejun nodded at your words and shrugged, “I agree with you, not a fan of that forbidden romance and rich girl poor man stuff either.”

“Right ?” Your eyes lit up and Dejun grinned at your passionate attitude. He’d always found you cute. Every so often he had the chance to work with you on a shift we’re always his best days. He’d listen to you rant about your professors, the music you hated on the radio, or the fact that someone stole your favourite parking spot.

“So....” Dejun folded his arms, “how would you change it ?”

“Change it?” You quirked a brow.

“What’s your perfect romance troupe ?” Dejun smiled softly and his soft brown eyes drew you in and made you feel warm, safe.

“Well for starters I think intimacy should come first and then the characters learn how to love each other as they develop their relationship” you explained, getting up from your chair and began pacing the small room,

“I don’t mind the cliche of they grab the same book or vinyl, I just prefer that instead of 7 chapters of them thinking about that moment they just take the leap right there.”

Dejun pondered on your words for a bit and also got to his feet, leaning against the table as he watched you pace back and forth.

“Would it work for people who somewhat knew each other before hand though ? A friend ? A colleague ?” Dejun quizzed and you nodded quickly,

“Yeah if there’s no prior feelings or hookups then why not ?”

“I guess we can’t test it then since we like each other huh ?” Dejun smirked returning to his seat innocently as you stopped abruptly and quickly tried to process what he had just said.

“I....we...don’t like each other ?” You stammered while ignoring the fact that your heart was racing against your chest.

Dejun chuckled as he carefully inspected one of the pages of his book, “the funny part is that you’re practically experiencing your ideal romance troupe and contradicting yourself by not owning up to the fact that we do in fact...like each other.”

Your mind was racing on every evening that you’ve spent with Dejun up until today. First day it’s true you both did a double take on each other and you found him extremely attractive. Day seven the two of you reached for the only hard cover copy left of Pride and Prejudice and spent the whole night critiquing the book until you lost track of time. Day seventeen you were packing books on the top shelf and as you descended down the steel steps you lost your balance and fell right into his arms.

You were literally living a goddamn romance troupe without even knowing it.

“By your words y/n, we need to skip a few steps now shouldn’t we ?” Dejuns eyes were still on his book, but he knew damn well that your eyes were on him.

“You’re right Dejun” you finally said and folded your arms across your chest.

Dejun turned his head to face you and narrowed his eyes, “I’m supposed to be the one making the move ? What happened to a change of scenery ? Uh women empowerment?”

You grabbed his hand and headed to the back of the room where the roof slightly slanted and the window panels were covered with water droplets as the night sky drew in. You neatened your blue plaid skirt and leaned against the old wood of a work station desk. Dejun cocked his head as you bit down on your lip, not knowing how to proceed to the next step.

“Why here ?” Dejun raised an eyebrow, removing his glasses and tucked them in the top pocket of his white buttoned down.

“I don’t know the setting is....pretty, also when we first met you were sitting at this desk reading the last book a literature master student would be reading” you stifled a laughter.

“Hey Harry Potter is my childhood” Dejun groaned, cutely rolling his eyes, something he did quite often and you would pester him to the point of seeing that reaction.

“Dejun,” you placed your hand on his cheek and his attention was focused on you, those soft brown eyes bore into yours as he took a step closer.

You felt the butterflies in your stomach as he softly wrapped his hand around the small of your back and placed the other on the back of your head. You finally leaned in and he did the same meeting your lips, for the first time and sighed. The kiss was soft, the two you just melted in the instant connection, basking in the feeling before continuing to deepen the kiss.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him closer until your bodies were pressed against each other, fitting each other’s silhouettes perfectly. Dejun slipped his hands down to your thighs and picked you up and placed you on the desk, not breaking the kiss as he slipped in between your legs.

“I’m afraid I’m going to want more than this” you sighed into the kiss, unable to remove your hands from his toned body as you felt the closeness of him between your legs making you feel aroused.

“Come back to my place” Dejun whispered as he began attacking your neck with kisses and played with the hem of your skirt.

You can’t remember if you said yes or just nodded but you were now in Dejuns car on his way to his place. You enjoyed the passionate kiss he shared with you at the stop street and the occasional squeeze of your thigh when he would make turn into a new road.

The rain had begun pelting down and thankfully you were already pulling into his apartment lot before it became really hazy. Dejun turned to his backseat and realized he had left his umbrella back at the library and sighed,

“Running hand in hand in the pouring rain troupe ?” He held out his hand and you chuckled, “always been on my bucket list anyway.”

The two of you ran for about half a minute in the pouring rain but it was enough to completely drench you from your head down to your shoes. Dejun quickly punched in the code of his door and pulled you inside, already covering you in kisses as his blonde hair stuck to his forehead.

It was one item of clothing after another as the trail of clothes led down to his bedroom, where he had you in just your lacy nude coloured two piece set while he was slowly ridding himself of his pants.

You fell into his bed as you watched him slowly pull his leather belt from its hoops and his black slacks finally fell to the ground,

“You are the most beautiful person I’ve ever met you know that ?” Dejun groaned as his eyes scanned over your body and he hovered over you.

“I could say the same about you Xiao Dejun” you mused and pulled him in for another hot passionate kiss. His warm body settled on yours and you wrapped your legs around his waist, wanting him closer even though it wasn’t even possible at this point.

Dejun unclipped your bra and moved his lips down to your breasts, squeezing one in his hand while licking and nipping at the other. You arched your back wanting more but also not wanting to rush him.

“Really want this to last much longer but I’m at my wits end right now” you moaned and Dejun chuckled as he peppered kisses all the way back up to your mouth.

“We have tonight, tomorrow, the next day and the day after that” he smirked against your lips before tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth.

Distracted by the stinging sensation from your lip you shivered at Dejuns icy fingers that was now hooked in the waistband of your panties, slowly pulling them down.

He watched as you squirmed beneath him. Watched how your eyes closed and how you sucked in your bottom lip, awaiting his next move.

You mewled when you felt the cool air hit your arousal and Dejun rubbed slow circles on your clit before pushing two fingers inside you, making you moan his name for the first time that night.

His fingers moved slowly but roughly while his lips softly pecked your hips, abdomen and the very top of your mound.

He was so gentle with you but his movements were still dominating, the mixture was absolutely intoxicating. You pulled him up missing the taste of his lips and before pressing his mouth on yours he caressed your cheek,

“Let me know if it’s too much okay?” He whispered against your lips and you nodded not knowing what you were in for.

Dejun locked your arms above your head and used his free hand to remove his boxers before entering you, already finding a rhythm to his thrusts. You threw your head back and moaned his name yet again as he slammed in and out of you, his grunts and your whimpers filling the bedroom.

His hand stayed locked on your wrists as he used his other hand to knead your breast, giving you multiple sensations at once. You almost hated the fact that you were close to your peak and it hadn’t been more than five minutes of him inside you.

“God I really don’t wanna cum right now” you whined as he still pounded mercilessly inside you.

“Good thing I’m not gonna let you” Dejun murmured and just as you thought your orgasm had reached, he pulled out of you and rolled onto his back,

“Get on top.”

You listened to his instructions but before sitting back on his member you gave him a few pumps, finally able to see him squirm under your touch this time round. Dejun gave you a small smack on your butt, and you finally abided to his request and sat on top of him, the new position already bringing you back to where you started.

Dejun sat up to meet your thrusts as you rode him, and you found your hand tangled in his messy locks as the two of you practically screwed the hell out of each other. The kiss this time was filled with lust, filled with lip biting and exchanging of saliva as you felt your orgasm fast approaching and noticed Dejun’s pace was slowing down too,

“cum for me baby” Dejun mused as he used the last of energy to give you a few hard thrusts until you finally came undone and he followed quickly after.

It took about two minutes of trying to catch your breath before you finally rolled on the bed next to him and wiped the beads of sweat from your forehead.

“Yeah this...this was definitely missing in some of those novels” you turned to Dejun who had a smile spread across his face.

He pulled the covers over your bodies and pressed his lips to your forehead and cheek,

“Should we write our own novel then ?”

“Yeah, yeah we should” you smiled, closing your eyes feeling at peace as his warmness enveloped you.

[afriendlyblackhottie]

Risk

Summary: Chris couldn’t believe he was finally meeting you and you were even more more perfect than what he’d seen in your music videos.

Pairings: Chris Evans x Black!Pop Star!Reader

Warnings: Swearing, Smut, Daddy Kink, Face Riding, Oral (female receiving), Girl on Top, Missionary, brief doggy style

(A/N: this has been sitting in my WIPs for a minute so it’s kind of a relief to finally put it out. Anyway, like, comment, or reblog.)

Tagged: @titty-teetee, @harrysthiccthighss, @iam-laiya, @mariahthelioness29, @night-of-the-living-shred, @liquorlaughslove, @blackmissfrizzle, @whiskey-cokenfanfic, @olyvoyl, @zaddychris

There was no way Chris could have possibly focused on the interviewer’s questions when you were so close. Your tight shirt showed off your tits so well it was distracting. As you laughed, they jiggled and he couldn’t help the half smile that came on his face as he couldn’t help himself, but to take a glance.

What was fucked up was that this was for a charity. You were a pop star that was very involved in investing in programs to protect the arts. He coming from a family of theatre nerds was of course interested in the same thing. The two of you got paired up for an interview. Only meeting for the first time today as there’d been a fundraiser event. Though Chris had been obsessing over you since he’d found out your name.

The first thing that struck him about you was how goddamn gorgeous you were in person. All of the pictures of you online didn’t even do you justice. He’d went through all your albums surprising himself with how much he actually liked them. You sounded like an angel yet your lyrics could be downright filthy sometimes. When he’d watched your most recent music video, he found himself growing hard seeing you in that tiny outfit and shaking your ass.

He’d seen your music videos. Watched a few live performances. Maybe clicked on a few interviews because he needed to know how your voice sounded. None of it prepared him for reality.

Those eyes and your lips. Fuck he could kiss the fuck out of your lips. You looked like you’d just walked straight out of his fantasies.

Nothing prepared him for how your ass looked in those jeans. His hand twitched as he managed to fight off the urge to just grab it. Then there were those perfect tits. Perfectly swelled under your t-shirt. Being distracting.

His eyes raked up and down your body another time. This time you’d laughed at something he had said. He wasn’t prepared for how giggly you were. How bubbly you were.

It honestly felt like he’d known you for years with how comfortable he found himself. Like you two were old friends catching up instead of strangers. As he made a shitty attempt to respond to something the interviewer had said your head turned as you listened. “Well, the arts have always been important to me,” his voice low and raspy like he’d just woken up. “My family was insanely involved in theatre when I was growing up and I jumped around from piano to tap dancing. I even did ballet for a little.”

You raised an eyebrow, a smile spreading on your face when he’d said that. “Really?” You perked up. “I did ballet.”

Of course, he knew that already because he’d taken a look at your Wikipedia page. “Really? How long?”

“I did it for,” you drew out the last word as you thought, “ten years, I think.”

He nodded almost losing himself as he looked into your eyes. “Wow that’s a long time. You must have loved it.”

“I did.” You smiled. “It was such an important part of my life growing up. All the friends I made. The things I learned and discipline. It’s also why I’m so flexible.” You giggled looking over at him again with this look in your eyes.

Were you flirting with him?

He quirked an eyebrow also grinning. His eyes darting from your eyes to your lips then back. How were you so goddamn pretty?

The interview moved forward with you sending signals that you were definitely flirting with him. You giggled at everything he said. Had played with your hair making you crane your neck to the side. The way your tits were fucking jiggling anytime he said anything mildly amusing. How you’d positioned yourself so they were perked up towards him.

Once everything had wrapped up, the both of you had been whisked away by your respective teams. He got one last good view of you walking away before being told to move onto the next thing.

It took two hours before your paths would cross again. This time at the panel the two of you were part of. You were once again seated beside each other. You were once again giggling at everything he said, while fixing your hair craning your neck to the side, and perking your tits in his direction. His hand twitched again as he fought the urge to grab your hand when you touched his bicep playfully to add onto something he’d just said.

This time when this had come to an end he’d manage to avoid being whisked away by his team. Getting off of stage fast enough to where they didn’t even see him. You lingered behind sort of blending in with the crowd as you managed to slip away.

The two of you bumped into each other smiles immediately spreading over your faces. “Hey.” The two of you said at the same time.

You bit your lip as the corners of your mouth were turned up. He let out a sigh before swallowing. “And here I thought I’d found the perfect hiding spot,” he said. 

“Actually, I’ve been eyeing this spot since we got here so I think I found it.” You joked back.

“Mmm, I don’t know. Maybe we should wrestle over it.”

You shook your head with a pout. “Sorry I can’t do that. I’m a lover not a fighter. “

He chuckled. Fuck you were cute. “Could I be a lover and a fighter?”

“Ohhh I don’t know. I feel like that’s cheating.”

He shrugged. “Sometimes you have to play dirty to win.”

That fucking giggle. Those goddamn jiggling tits. That goddamn hair. That fucking neck. And you perking your tits out. Except this time, you gave him a pretty generous glimpse down your shirt.

“You busy after this?” He asked.

You shook your head. “Does catching up on Netflix count?”

He laughed. “Yes, but well I was thinking of going out for dinner after this thing,” he said, trying to suppress whatever urge he was constantly getting to touch you. “And, I didn’t want to look like a dick and eat alone.”

At this point we got the point of how you were trying to convey your flirty ness with him. “And?”

“And,” he started, “I was wondering if you’d wanna join me.”

You nodded. “Where we going?”

He shrugged. “Wherever you want, Honey.”

“Don’t tell me that. I can be expensive,” you seemed to purr. Everything about you was making him feel like he was fifteen again and waking up from a wet dream.

He nodded eyes drifting down to your lips. “You’d be worth every penny. Gimme your number so I can find you after?”

You nodded. “It’s a date.”

“Yeah,” his mouth twitched as you walked away from him. He eyed you up and down as your backside was to him. Damn your ass looked good in those jeans.

—

It’d been a pretty long day, but finally it was over. Like promised through text, you and Chris managed to get away from your teams in order to be whisked away in a town car to a bar he said was great.

The two of you talked on your way over. This time you were a little more subdued. Your voice was lower, sensual. It made him feel like someone had hugged his heart and dick at the same time.

He was sitting so close as he’d managed to get the most private booth in the place so the two of you could talk. He was so damn close to you and you hadn’t moved the whole time his arm was around you. In fact, you seemed even closer than before.

He wanted to kiss you so damn bad. “You gotta man?” He asked, before taking a sip of his beer.

“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’ in the word.“You gotta girlfriend?”

“Nah,” he sighed. “Been single for a minute.”

You nodded. “Oh damn. You poor thing.” You rested your hand on his thigh.

“Yeah? How long you been single?” He asked grabbing your hand and playing with your fingers. That twitch in his hand had finally won. Your skin was just as soft as it looked like it’d be.

You shrugged. “For like a year,” you answered. Liking the feel of his rougher hand against yours. “I get so busy I don’t even think about it.”

“Yeah, same.” He somehow managed to scoot you closer to him. “Then sometimes you meet a cute stranger and then maybe you end up taking them home to smoke.”

You chuckled. “How do you know I smoke?”

He shrugged. “Doesn’t everyone in this town smoke?”

You nodded shrugging your shoulders. “True.” You smiled. “Fine.”

 After calling another town car and him paying the tab you were on his way to his place. Chris was still finding ways to touch you. Not that you were complaining that you were sitting so close.

Now the joint was resting between his lip as the television played in the background. Chris let out a big puff of smoke.

You were still sitting way to close. As he grabbed your hand again. Running his thumb across your knuckles. You were telling him a story about this photo shoot you had a few weeks ago that just so happened to be with you in lingerie. Then in turn he told you about a photo shoot he had to do for a free weeks ago where he just so happened to be shirtless the whole time.

Then you started talking about your favorite movies. To him telling you stories about all the shit that went down behind the scenes. Which led to you telling him stories about being on tour. Then you talked about music and he felt someone tug at his heart strings with the way your face lit up when talking about your favorite musicians.

He had to kiss you.

With the joint in between his fingers he leaned down to finally brush his lips against yours. “God, you’re fucking beautiful,” his voice once again at that low tone, raspy like he’d just woken up.

“You think so?” You looked up at him so innocently, peering up at him through those lashes.

He took another hit of the joint before leaned back down to your mouth. He blew the smoke into your mouth before kissing you again.

You started to make out deep. Stroking his cheek with your thumb. His tongue slid against yours as he pulled you onto his lap. You moaned into his mouth suddenly feeling all airy. If Chris wasn’t holding onto you, you may have drifted away.

He leaned to the side so he could put out the joint. When both of his hands were free, he put them under your ass so he could get handfuls of each cheek in each hand. Then making it jiggle.

You broke away from him so you could finally pull that top over your head. “Fuck,” he hissed seeing the tops of your breasts. You quickly reconnected your lips. One of his hands grabbed at you through your lacy white bra.

You let out a whimper that was like music to his ears. His mouth trailed down to your neck hoping to kiss you in a spot where you’d be forced to make that noise again. You shivered as his lips left hot opened mouth kisses on your skin.

Then it was time for Chris to pull his own shirt over his head, exposing his muscular physique. You put your hands on his shoulders as you kissed him more. He reached behind you to undo your bra. Your nipples all sensitive as they were exposed to the night air. Your body felt all fuzzy as you giggled when he smacked your ass.

His hands reached up to play with them. Fuck it was better than any thought he’d had about them since you’d met. Rubbing your nipples with his thumbs and making you moan.

You got off of him so you could undo your jeans. Except before you could even pull them off, he made you lay on the couch as he slid them off of you. He kissed along your stomach at first. Then he proceeded to take off your jeans and panties at the same time.

When you were finally completely exposed to him, he kissed you again. Then his mouth started practically worshipping your breasts. He licked your nipples with the tip of his tongue. He came to suck it wanting to hear that goddamn whimper again and then reeling at the other little noises you were making. “Fuck,” you moaned. He gave your other boob similar treatment before kissing a trail down to your lower half.

He could have died and gone to heaven after seeing that pretty pussy. He flicked his tongue over your clit loving the taste of your arousal. He’d pushed your thighs up so he could properly feast on you. Fuck you were so wet for him.

He wrapped his arms around your thighs so he could get as deep as possible. You were moaning so much for him. The noises you were making were fucking pornographic.

“Fuck I’m gonna cum,” you whined.

He stopped to kiss up your body so he could kiss your lips again. You could taste yourself on his lips. His fingers stayed on your pussy as he kissed you again. You gasped against him, throwing your head back.

His moved to your tits again. His tongue was craving to suck on them again as he finger fucked you. As you exploded around his fingers he decided to rub your clit to draw it out.

“Daddy!” You screamed.

“What’d you just call me, Baby?” He asked still rubbing your clit as you clung to him.

“I- I,” you stuttered, but it was hard to talk when he was doing that to you. “Ugh, Daddy!”

“That’s a good girl,” he kissed you again.

 He finally carried you off to his bedroom with your legs wrapped around his waist. He’d taken you apart so easily. Like he’d done this to you so many times before. Instead he’d just been thinking about it so much he didn’t want to fuck it up.

He sat down with you still wrapped around him. His jeans were still on, but you could feel him through his jeans and fuck. He felt so huge against you as he moved you right over it.

His fingers reached between you two so he could rub your clit again. Chris wasn’t your usual type, but you couldn’t deny that he was fine as fuck. Or that he was dangerously charming.

When he’d finally taken off his jeans and underwear, he sat you back in his lap so you were straddling him. He was holding you tight against him so even when you tried to sink down onto him because fuck you wanted to so bad, he wouldn’t let you. Like he needed you to know who was in control.

“Ride my face,” he said, slapping your ass.

You giggled. “Really?”

“Yeah you taste fucking delicious.”

You looked down at him as you could see his eyes peeking out. From underneath you. He really was eating you up like you’d be his last meal.

He felt like he was in heaven with his head between your legs. Like you were sweeter than any candy he could ever eat. Better than jelly beans. “Oh my god,” you breathed out a moan.

You moved your hips trying to ride his tongue, but it was almost too much. His beard was burning your thighs only adding to how good it felt. You grabbed at his hair while he smacked your ass again, palming it in his large hand.

He felt like he could taste your orgasm. The way you leaked out into his mouth. He didn’t even care that you were making such a big mess on his face. “Daddy, yes!” You gasped. You put your hands on the headboard to brace yourself because as your stomach started to tighten you could tell this one was going to be much more powerful. “I’mgonnacum,” you rattled off.

He chuckled into you pushing his fingers into you again making it so you had to ride his hand, too. How the fuck was this man able to get you like this and you hadn’t even taken his dick yet. Fuck you needed to take it.

He didn’t even let up when it happened. It was like he wanted more of you. He was drinking you up. Wanting to have you at his mercy. Like this was the last chance he’d get to feel your pussy on his tongue and he needed to take advantage.

It took two more orgasms for him to finally let you up. You fell down onto the bed completely spent. He didn’t even care as he kissed you hungrily. Quickly pushed you onto your back, wrapping his arms around your thighs and didn’t even give you time to realize what was happening before he slammed into you.

He couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to feel you around his dick. And fuck did it feel perfect. You were so tight. So wet. So damn sexy with the way your mouth formed into an O because how was he moving his hips like that.

It should have been illegal for him to fuck you like this. For him to leave your pussy craving more from him. How the hell were you supposed to come back from this.

He fucked into your spot like he already knew where it was. Like the two of you had done this so many times before. All you could do was take it. All you wanted to do was take it and take it and never stop taking it.

You were everything he’d thought you’d be since he’d saw that first fucking music video. Your sparkly acrylic nails scratched his back. “Fuck me, Chris.”

He slapped your ass. “You call me Daddy,” he growled into your ear.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you buried your face into his neck. He should have not been able to fuck you this well. You bit your lip, as he put his forehead against yours.

The burn from the way he split you open was so good. This couldn’t have been the last time the two of you did this. Not when he was this deep inside of you.

The first time you came around him he pulled out of you so he could lay beside you. Then because he didn’t give a fuck about how it was too much or whatever you kept saying he made you sink down on his dick.

Your pussy creamed down his length. You kept telling yourself that you couldn’t take it even though you were riding his dick like such a good girl. The bed was shaking so hard you were scared you might break something.

This was about to be a long night.

—

Chris couldn’t remember the last time he’d been this fucked out. It was like when he thought he had enough you’d pounce on him and when you thought you’d had enough he’d do the same to you. Until finally the two of you passed out with his arms wrapped around you and you buried into his chest.

He kissed your forehead, nuzzling your face with his nose. He felt content for the first time in a long time with you there. Like you were meant to be there in his arms. You’d barely gone to bed at four in the morning so it was no wonder you were still asleep at ten a.m.

When he realized the time, he groaned because he was so late. He reached for his phone seeing the tons of missed called. “Baby?” He shook you gently.

“Mmm,” you hummed as you finally peeked up at him. “Fuck, what time is it?”

“Ten thirty,” he answered.

“Fuck,” you groaned, but didn’t even attempt to move. “My managers gonna kill me.”

He grinned because you looked so cute half asleep. “Same.” He pecked your lips. “Good morning, though.”

“Good morning,” you replied saying fuck it in your head as you stayed where you were. You were too comfortable to move. 

“We should do this again sometime,” he said, tracing patterns into your skin.

“I’d like that,” you replied.

“You busy tomorrow?”

“I have some stuff to do in the morning, but I’m free after nine.”

“Perfect. How about a late dinner?”

You smiled. “Like a date?”

He chuckled. “Of course.” His phone went off right when he was about to kiss you and he groaned because as much as he’d prefer spending time with you, he did have obligations to get to. “Hello?”

“Chris!” His managers voice boomed. “Where the hell have you been! Have you seen Twitter today?”

“No, I just woke up,” he said with a frown on his face. You looked up at him noticing the change in his tone.

“Well, you’re trending. They posted the interview online and fans are going insane.”

“What?” He said. “Hold on let me look.”

It wasn’t just him trending on Twitter. So were you. Together. He shook you so you could look before clicking on the thread.

Damn Chris was looking at her like she was a whole meal.

And at that moment Chris Jamal Evans was ready to risk it all

He over here just eye fucking her

There were a lot. Plus, all the memes people had posted. He hadn’t realized he made it that obvious. You started giggling not being able to stop yourself as he scrolled. “Wait is that her? Is she there?” The faint voice of his manager came through the phone.

“I gotta call you back,” he said before hanging up. “I am so sorry.”

You were still laughing as you grabbed your own phone so you could read through more. “It’s okay. Just glad I didn’t make it obvious that I was doing the same.”

“I knew it!” He laughed before tickling your side.

You tried to push his hand away and all that lead to was a wrestling match where he pinned you down. “Daddy!” You squealed which again music to his ears.

You struggled against him until you finally broke your hand away so you could reach forward to grab at his dick that seemed to awaken immediately under your touch. “That’s cheating!” He protested with a laugh.

“All’s fair in love and war.”

“You better not start something you can’t finish.”

You smirked. “Oh, I can finish it.”

“You know, I can afford to take the day off,” he noted realizing he was not letting you out of this bed anytime soon.

“Me, too.”

He leaned forward capturing your lips with his. Not even caring about morning breath. Just needing to feel you. As he turned you over so he could fuck you from behind he realized that it was true. He was ready to risk it all for you.

And it was pretty funny to watch you laugh at all the memes afterwards.

[thevindicativevordan]

On Supergirl

Figured I should put up my thoughts about Kara in the wake of her first film appearance being announced, and the final season of her TV show fast approaching. Short version is: Kara is very cool and DC needs to stop messing with her. 

My Introduction to Kara

I was introduced to Kara the way most millennials/Gen Zers were I imagine, via the Loeb Superman/Batman arc which brought the traditional Kara Zor-El Supergirl take into Post-Crisis continuity, after years of DC attempting to have a “Supergirl” without violating the editorial mandate that Kal needed to be the literal “Last Son of Krypton” (an example of one of the dumb ways DC fucked Kara over). Story goes that one day Dan Didio was in line at the Superman ride at Six Flags (I love that ride even though it’s stolen my glasses every time I’ve ridden it, even when I left them in a locker!). The ride had signs that talked about various Superman characters. Didio was reading the entry for Supergirl where it talked about her not being Clark’s cousin but instead some weird merge of alien shapeshifter, angel, and human girl, and he realized how fucking stupid that was, and he went back to the office and told Loeb to bring Kara back. 

Years later I would also be standing in line at the Six Flags Superman ride (probably at a different park location but who knows?) as a youngster and would read the new Supergirl sign that trumpeted that Superman had a cousin who shared all his powers, an update reflecting the new Loeb origin. I thought she sounded pretty cool, made a note to see if my library had any Supergirl stories next time I visited, then got on the Superman ride and promptly lost my glasses like an idiot because I wanted to take them off while I was riding and pretend I was changing from my “disguise” into Superman mid flight. My dad grounded me for this afterwards, but it gave me a funny story to tell at family get togethers and isn’t that what Six Flags is all about?

A month later (and with spiffy new glasses), my mom dropped me off at a new library next to where she worked, and they had one of the best Superman collections I’ve ever seen to this day. I was in heaven and while reading every Superman book I could find (I couldn’t check them out because I didn’t have a card, my mom’s card didn’t cover the area the library was in, and my mom wouldn’t have checked them out anyway since comics were “too violent”), I found the trade collecting Kara’s new origin. I read it and I thought both she and Superman were really cool, and Batman was a  punk who had to beat Darkseid by cheating, the loser. Turner’s art to my young eyes was the best I had ever seen, and the panels got engraved into my brain. 

I still get downright nostalgic whenever I see Turner Superman or Supergirl stuff. I also got my parents to rent the animated movie adaption of the Superman/Batman arc from Blockbuster (remember those?), and that sealed the deal. Seeing Kara hold her own against Darkseid convinced me she was as cool as her cousin. Next time my mom dropped me off at the library next to her workplace, I went looking for Supergirl stuff to read. I found the first volume of her new volume by Joe Kelly taking place after the Loeb arc and dove in.

It was... weird. 5 years later I might have enjoyed it but at the time I was majorly put off. Kara took a secret identity for a day and then ditched it because it was “stupid” and the kids bullied her. She was always getting into fights with Kal, and there was this weird plot that I couldn’t follow about how her dad had sent her to kill Kal, maybe or maybe not? Also she could grow crystals which I thought was dumb, and said she was stronger than her cousin which I couldn’t buy for a second given he looked like he was carved out of marble, and she looked like she relied on sunlight instead of food. I put the volume back on the shelf and kinda gave up on reading the character after that for a while. 

I followed her via the DC wiki updates just like I did Superman, and everything I read seemed dumb and convoluted. She was split in two, moped around a lot, made out with an alternate version of her cousin, and basically just flopped about the same way the rest of the Superfamily did during the 00s. Nothing made me think I had made a mistake dropping Kara until I read the latest update to her wiki page.

I was super into what I was reading about the Busiek/Johns era of Superman online. Lex was back and making a big revenge scheme that involved all the other Rogues! Old Superman Rogues were getting revamped and made cool again! Johns reintroduced Brainiac and made him a big threat, with Kal and Kara teaming up to fight him! Busiek was revamping Prankster and telling big ambitious Superman stories! For the first time in a long while, the consensus on the Internet was that Superman was good again. My “home” library had zero Marvel books and no Superman or Batman books, all their DC stuff was Flash or Green Lantern, mainly written by Johns. Insane to think back on now. My hopes that because Johns was involved with Superman, Superman books would show up at my library were fulfilled. They started bringing in Busiek and Johns collections, and someone there also ordered Sterling Gates’ first volume of Supergirl, and I checked everything out since I was old enough to have my own library card, and my parents were worried more about the violent video games I was playing rather than comics.

I read everything and loved it. I also really liked Gates’ take on Kara. She was still an imperfect teenager but she wasn’t insufferably angsty or constantly fighting with Kal. She was going to give the secret identity another try and Lana had “adopted” her. It’s funny remembering how I enjoyed all that given my current thoughts on how Kara should work, but it was great at the time. I liked Gates introducing new foes for Kara, some classic Superman Rogues adapted for her like Bizzarogirl, others crafted specifically for her like Reactron. Gates’ basically rekindled my enjoyment of Kara the same way Busiek & Johns rekindled my enjoyment of Superman.

Of course it ended terribly like everything Superman-related seems to.

I’ve got a whole post I want to do about New Krypton and what came after. In short that is the most blatant example of “hitting the reset button” that I’ve ever seen. All the potential got wasted, and afterwards everything except Lex’s Action Comics stuff just didn’t appeal to me. Gates got booted off Kara for Nick Spencer who ended up leaving himself later, a promising Teen Titans line-up with Kara on it didn’t happen, and the last proper Pre-Flashpoint Superfamily story was a crappy team-up with Doomsday against Bigger Doomsday (thank God for Cornell’s final Luthor/Superman confrontation at least). When news of the reboot arrived, I was honestly happy. The Superline needed an enema.

Controversial opinion time: I liked New 52 Supergirl. It’s weird because a lot of the stuff I hated about Kelly’s run was here, and a lot of the stuff I loved about the Gates’ run was not. This was angry, moody, emotional Kara again, fighting with Kal and not fond of Earth. But I was in my teens at this point, and I didn’t want happy go-lucky Superman or Supergirl. I wanted my heroes angry, scared of the future, ready to go out there and smash some cars. Morrison’s Action Comics was 100% my jam (still is once I really understood the deeper meaning beneath the work) and this Kara felt like a natural fit for this universe. Plus we got Asrar on art and that guy made it damn pretty to look at, lots of cool science fiction stuff going on, even with the dumb H’el storyline.

I loved all the new Rogues Kara got. I loved her new Fortress under the ocean. I loved how traumatized she was by the loss of Krypton, that she wanted more than anything to go home, that her cousin was like a stranger to her since they had been apart for so long. I found all of that incredibly relatable. A lot of the New 52 Supergirl stories might have been schlock but it was my type of schlock damnit, and I enjoyed it!

I kept with her New 52 series all the way through the Red Daughter Saga (which I loved). As someone who grew up on Johns GL (since that was the only comics my home library had), seeing a Supercharacter join a Lantern Corp was the hypest thing ever. I loved the finale about Kara finally letting go of her anger and losing the ring while smashing her foe into the sun, it was incredibly cathartic for me as an angry teen myself. I finally stopped following her series sometime after since I was no longer enjoying the Superline or really DC as a whole. It wasn’t until I heard that New 52 Superman died and the “old” Superman was back, that I checked back into DC.

DC Rebirth & How I Think Kara Should Work

I did not enjoy Supergirl Rebirth, and I think I’ll talk about my problems with it alongside how I think Kara as a character should work since the two are related. A pet peeve of mine that has formed over the years is this: I don’t like it when Superfamily members get turned into Clark clones. Kon wearing glasses and going to Smallville High. Kara going to high school and being involved in journalism. Jon more or less being written as a copy of his dad personality-wise. I hate that kind of stuff because it’s boring. What’s the point of a Superfamily if everyone is just copying Clark? It also doesn’t fit the characters especially in Kara’s case. Why the hell does she want to be a journalist? Were there journalists on Krypton? I don’t remember ever seeing one! Shouldn’t she want to be, I dunno, a scientist? That seems to have been the El family tradition, wouldn’t she have been groomed for that?

This one-off by Shea is honestly the only acceptable outcome for Kara going into journalism for me. She realizes she’s just copying her cousin and switches to something she wants to do. So Orlando copying the show, which already basically turned Kara into an expy of her cousin, just did not appeal to me at all. What had worked for me under Gates way back when was not clicking for me this time. I wanted to see Kara embody the principles of the S-shield in a different way than her cousin did. So I really enjoyed when Rebirth ended and we moved into the Bendis era with Andrekyo relaunching the title as Kara in space.

Kara in space has always felt like a good fit for me. Unlike Kal I’ve come to believe that Kara really shouldn’t be all that fond of Earth. For him it’s home, but for her it’s just where she ended up after her real home got destroyed. I think Kara works well as a sort of nomad, occasionally making stops back home to Earth to check on her cousin, but otherwise? She’s more comfortable out in space than she could ever be on Earth. Out in space she can be Kryptonian (which is what she should think of herself as in contrast to Clark being torn between his Kryptonian biology and human upbringing, and Jon/Kon identifying as human), be her true self, not have to pretend to be human to fit in. Kara founding a moon refuge was one of the best ideas for her that I’ve seen, I would love if DC made her Future State refugee center on the moon canon. I’m excited for more Kara adventures in space with the upcoming Tom King story.

Also love that her and Krypto are getting tied together, if they don’t want to use Krypto in Superman’s stuff, let her have him! Bring on cosmic adventurer Supergirl!

Personality & Other Traits

Kara to me should be more hot-tempered than her cousin. All the Superfamily members should have a temper in my opinion, I see that as the “Deadly Sin” of Superman and his family. But while Kal is like a simmering pot that will explode if it’s left cooking for too long, Kara is like dynamite. Light her fuse at your own peril because she will go off on you.

I also like the idea of Kara being rash. Kal’s got a maturity that came from over a decade of having to live with Lex Luthor constantly getting away with all his evil schemes. He’s patient because he’s been forced to be. Kara? If you ask for her help she’ll give it, but beware because she doesn’t really care about the long term impacts of her decisions. She’s an invulnerable teenager after all.

Really liked that Venditti Annual where Kara got tutored in history by a reincarnation of Hawkman. Kara having a passion for history is a neat trait, would be nice to see her teach Kal or Jon some Kryptonian lore, or have her lead a Kryptonian holiday celebration for the Superfamily because she’s the only one who remembers how to do it. 

Sexuality wise I know a lot of people ship Kara and Lena on account of the chemistry between the two in the show. I haven’t watched the show myself but I’m fine with making Kara bisexual, the Superfamily could use some LGBT+ rep, and Lena hasn’t done anything of worth as a villain, so undo that and throw the two together. If we’re letting Harley and Ivy get away with murder I think we can let Lena off the hook too, undo the Ultrawoman weirdness and put the two together. Could be fun seeing the two building that moon refuge together.

All in all I think Kara is a great character who is a stronger embodiment of the immigrant experience than even her cousin in some ways. I hope King does a good job with her, she’s treated better than her cousin on the film side, and that overall the 20s are a better decade for Supergirl than the 10s were.

[makeste]

BnHA Chapter 279: Here Comes the Airplane

Previously on BnHA: Gigantomachia gathered up the rest of the League and headed off to go help Tomura. Also he is now 80 feet tall. The heroes were all, “whoa this guy is really big, we should probably stop him and maybe even devote an entire chapter or two just to that,” and so they sent three whole people after him, which sadly is pretty much the exact sort of strategy I’ve come to expect from them by this point. Anyway so Mt. Lady tried to hold Machia off but kept getting flung aside, and Kamui Woods tried to catch him but was set on fire by Dabi who is just having way too good of a time setting all of the flammable heroes on fire today, and Midnight tried to put him to sleep but Compress threw a bunch of debris at her and so she fell like 80 feet. The chapter ended with Midnight being all “fuck this” and calling Momo, who ordered the rest of the child soldier squad into action as Machia approached. I’m not really sure what they’re gonna do, but I honestly don’t really care, because it’s Momo, and so, YES.

Today on BnHA: U.A.’s first-year hero students, who apparently had nine hours to prepare their battleground instead of the fifteen seconds we had all assumed, launch a complex multi-staged assault which is actually really fucking impressive because these kids are actually awesome. First they pin Machia down in one of Honenuki’s mud pits, and then they take turns making impassioned attempts to take out the other League members chilling out on Machia’s back. Unfortunately none of these attempts work because of Dabi, who’s working overtime while the rest of the League sits around shooting down each other’s escape plans. Basically a lot of stuff gets set on fire, and then the chapter ends with Mt. Lady pinning Machia to the ground while MINA, YES, MINA, charges at him covered in acid like some sort of video game boss that you need some kind of specific item to defeat. DID YOU KNOW YESTERDAY WAS MINA’S BIRTHDAY YOU GUYS. Anyway so this chapter is basically pandemonium from start to finish, and it’s great. It is a RUMPUS, y'all. A STRAIGHT UP HULLABALOO.

IS IT MOMO LOVIN’ HOURS I THINK IT IS, YOU GUYS. ARE YOU EXCITED. I AM EXCITED

but first, the color page we were promised, in celebration of Six Whole Years Of This Bullshit!!

oh god oh god so much to love so little time

some of the rowdier characters are making MULTIPLE APPEARANCES IN THIS SHITSHOW, including Kaminari who appears to be in a record-setting THREE of these! who exactly was taking all of these pictures, and why are they so obsessed with him. also how many of these are going to be used as evidence in the latest Kami Traitor Theory posts and is it too early for me to get mad about it

“WE INVITED ENDEAVOR AND HAWKS TO OUR ‘BEING FANCY ON THE COLOR PAGE’ PARTY, EVEN THOUGH THEY’RE NOT U.A. STUDENTS OR FACULTY. WE JUST FELT LIKE IT.” listen that is fine, y’all don’t have to explain yourselves to me

Mirko however is not here, I assume because if she was, Horikoshi would have forgotten to draw all the rest of the characters again. she’s too powerful

Midnight is so sexy I don’t even ksdfnkl

ALL MIGHT LOOKING HAPPY GIVES ME THE STRENGTH I NEED TO MAKE IT THROUGH THE REST OF THIS WEEK. YOUR SMILE IS THE MVP

Cementoss’s face is the runner-up MVP and one of the greatest things I’ve seen in my life

half the people here seem to be attempting to flirt with whoever is taking the pictures. I am starting to suspect that the culprit is Momo. change my mind

for some reason I am really shocked to see Endeavor getting his drink on. and he’s literally the only one, too

Bakugou’s half-assed I SAID NO PAPARAZZI skills are no match for Tamaki’s legendary “I WILL LITERALLY DIE IF YOU CAPTURE ME ON FILM” abilities

I literally didn’t notice Deku until like three quarters of the page in. he sure does blend right in there

Tokoyami is approximately 97.3% done and ticking EVER CLOSER to full 100% doneness, and when that happens even I can’t tell you what is going to go down

do I even need to mention how sexy Aizawa’s hair is. apparently I do

SERIOUSLY THOUGH CEMENTOSS’S FACE

anyway, so that was nice! NOW ON TO THE MOMOLOVIN’

and we begin with FIRST YEAR CLASS B HONENUKI “MUDMAN” JUZOU just LAYIN’ SOME TRAPS IN THE WOODS, as one does

oh my freaking god Tokage

somehow her quirk didn’t freak me out quite this much the last time we saw her. she is really something. has she always had shark teeth

also WHERE IS MONOMA’S GROUP. I immediately want to know!! is he with the Shouto group? or is there yet ANOTHER student group we don’t know about? what would they even be doing

or did Horikoshi actually get three quarters of the way through writing this arc and then suddenly slap his forehead as he realized that if Monoma just casually copied Machia’s powers he would either DIE IMMEDIATELY or else become SUPER STRONG and also grow 80 feet tall and this would suddenly be a very different battle with the scales tipping decidedly in the heroes’ favor. and so he had to quickly write him out of the battle in this very half-assed way

anyway, so while I ponder that, Tokage is peeking the top of her head out over the trees and staring at Machia who is, you guessed it, still heading right their way! just like he’s been doing pretty much this entire time

and now there’s a whole page of reaction panels you guys. this is why Horikoshi tries to avoid these massive Endgame-style battles with every single hero known to man participating. hopefully we won’t have too many of these. like I mean thank you for the roll call and all but I’d like to get to the action now

Mineta of all people is stealing this entire page with that expression though. he is not fucking around. this is twice in as many chapters that he’s been a page-stealing face-making champ. dare I hope this could be the start of a new niche for him? lord knows it would be so much better than the old niche

also this page is just sweatdrops galore. these kids are so nervous. MANGA GODS PLEASE KEEP THEM SAFE, although I’m honestly not too worried about them compared to the adults. I’m sure I should be, but I just am not

all right so now Momo is explaining what those little canisters are!

okay but someone please explain to me how it is that they had time to stop and lay all of these traps?? not just Honenuki’s, but Mineta’s and what looks like some of Shiozaki’s work as well?? did Machia just STOP MOVING for like five whole minutes all of a sudden for no reason at all? while they were all sitting out here saying things like “with that speed...”? ????? ????????

also lol wtf. “we’re gonna have to make him eat it.” I still have no idea what their plan is, but it’s getting more entertaining by the minute I’ll say that much

okay so Momo says that if they can get him to swallow just one of these, then that should be enough to put him to sleep. oh my god this chapter is going to be AMAZING isn’t it

meanwhile Mineta is worrying about Midnight. I swear to god if they turn this into something where he’s only worried because she’s hot, I will take one of these canisters and shove it right up his...

okay good, Mina’s reassuring him that it’s gonna be okay, and then we’re just cutting to Machia stampeding in with Mt. Lady and Kamui still clinging to him

WHAT THE HELL ARE THESE GUYS EVEN DOING

“we’ll just stand here adjacent to him and just kind of watch as he rushes straight at the children.” someone help me, I’m having difficulty finding a synonym for “useless” that carries the full amount of emphasis I want to place on it right now. this requires a degree of language the human race is not yet capable of

OH SNAP

THEY GOT HIM YEAHHHHH

OH DANG, FOR REAL THOUGH!!

ngl, for a brief spiteful moment I was disappointed he hadn’t actually fallen on them :/

and they’re still JUST STANDING THERE, I CAN'T EVEN?? we’re getting to the point where I honestly think actual civilians might have been of more use in this situation

YESSSSS

TIME TO FIND OUT HOW MANY TENTH GRADERS GIGANTOMACHIA CAN TAKE IN A FIGHT

also, sorry to keep harping on this, but the juxtaposition of that earlier panel with all of the fully grown and experienced pros just standing in dumb awe, immediately followed by this panel of BRAVE BUT DETERMINED CHILDREN CHARGING IN AND YELLING “GO GO GO”, is just... it really is something. shit. if I was the HPSC and this was what I had to work with, I too might have seriously considered fudging a few age requirements in hopes of finding someone who could actually get the fucking job done

also what the hell is going on down there with Shishida and Satou and that third person? what are those Blackwhip-looking things?? I’m confused

ohhhhh no

Shiozaki is about to be sent flying through the air courtesy of her own hair vines omg

OH NO WAIT THE THREE TOUGH GUYS ARE STOPPING HIM. AHHH THE LAST ONE WAS KENDOU AHHHH

I still can’t figure out what the hell those are though lol. did Momo make some steel cables?? I feel like Machia would be able to break just about any kind of rope or chain they could concoct just by sheer brute strength alone

ah fuck

DON’T YOU GUYS GO RUINING THIS FOR ME!! THEY’VE GOT A GOOD THING GOING HERE, LET THEM HAVE THEIR FUN!!

although I do appreciate how they’re all “U.A.!!” in kind of this “oh shit, these guys we actually have to worry about” sort of tone lol

this look on Toga’s face is a bit concerning! well but Deku and Ochako aren’t here though, so I wonder who she’s gonna fight if it comes to that. huh

(ETA: seriously, does anyone have any idea what Toga is planning cuz I sure don’t.)

Shouji and Ojiro, who I might remind you are normal people with no enhanced physical abilities aside from extra appendages, appear to have somehow circled all the way around to Machia’s back and are now climbing up oh shit

oh and Aoyama’s there too! -- is Shouji carrying him omg

he’s using him as a human ray gun omggg. this is the most delightful thing I’ve ever witnessed

NOW SOMETHING IS BEING SHOT AT THE LEAGUE AND DABI’S STARING AT IT ALL “>:(” AND I’M PRETTY SURE THIS THING, WHATEVER IT IS, IS ABOUT TO BE SET ON FIRE, LET’S SEE

lds;afksjdl;fkj WERE THOSE JIROU’S EARJACKS??!!

okay you know what fuck you Dabi. you think it’s funny to set a little girl’s ears on fire?! don’t expect any sympathy from me when Aoyama lasers you in the face

WELL I DON’T KNOW WHAT’S HAPPENING BUT THEY’RE SHOOTING WHAT LOOK LIKE A BUNCH OF LITTLE TAMBOURINES AT HIM NOW

I ASSUME THEY ARE NOT ACTUALLY TAMBOURINES, BUT I REALLY DON’T KNOW, IT’S NOT LIKE THEY HANDED OUT THE RULE BOOK TO THIS THING AHEAD OF TIME

[HUGE EXAGGERATED GASPING SOUNDS]

oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my god oh my

OH MY GOD AND YANAGI THREW THEM WITH HER POLTERGEIST QUIRK!??

I DON’T KNOW WHAT THIS “ACK?!!” IS AND IT’S REALLY BUMMING ME OUT, BECAUSE THIS CAME WITHIN INCHES OF BEING THE COOLEST FUCKING COMBINATION I’VE EVER SEEN IN MY ENTIRE LIFE!?!?

(ETA: it would have laid them all flat in seconds. Kaminari is to be feared you guys.)

NO!!!!!

it is sincerely frustrating to me watching the League carelessly toss aside all of their painstakingly accumulated goodwill from the MVA arc in the span of just a few short pages. hey Compress, you think it’s cool to hurl a bunch of rocks at my six-and-a-half-year-old son?? I hope someone rips that cool robot arm off and uses it to punch you in the dick

here comes Sero!! and how are you going to die, Sero

what in the

did he just... sneeze them all into space

okay but hear me out, what if Shouda absorbed that impact. SHOUDA YOUR TIME HAS FINALLY COME. CLASS 1-B’S ASCENT TO GLORY

(ETA: watch this space!! Shouda is here for a reason mark my words.)

meanwhile on Machia’s back, Dabi is soliloquying about Machia’s quirk while his arm is doing... something

please forgive me for not being able to drum up any sympathy for poor Dabi’s arms right about now. quit trying to set all my kids on fire

wait whaaaaat lol

so I scrolled back up to the previous page, and... that was fire?? lord help me why am I still so terrible at being able to tell when Horikoshi is drawing fire as opposed to just air randomly whooshing through trees. I have really got to memorize that foossh sound effect

so can Gigantomachia just BREATHE FIRE now?? or was ALL OF THAT Dabi??? if it was the latter then at least he had the decency to wait until all of the kids got blown out of range before setting the whole forest aflame to keep them back. I’ll admit it, that was thoughtful of him as far as villain power moves go

OHO BUT YOU CAN’T COUNT MOMO OUT JUST LIKE THAT!!

AND NOW EVERYTHING AROUND THEM IS EXPLODING AHHHHHH DID YOU GUYS SET LANDMINES, BAKUGOU WOULD BE SO PROUD

once again I have to ask myself exactly how much prep time they had here. Horikoshi would have you think it was mere seconds, but that clearly cannot be the case?? maybe they set some of these up beforehand to catch any stray villains trying to flee the area?

lmao Spinner’s all “wait why doesn’t he just dig his way out”, because apparently Machia can tunnel himself under the ground. but Compress is all “um because we would die” and Spinner is all “oh right”

though I gotta say, it’s not like they’re that much better off as things are now, either. pinned down in the woods surrounded by fire and explosives. definitely a conundrum

oh snap Compress has realized that their presence is holding Machia back. don’t tell me Machia is gonna head off on his own and leave the rest of the League to square off with the kids

YOOOOOO HOLY SHIT THE HEROES ACTUALLY DID SOMETHING

there you go, League! free cannon fodder to get you all pumped and confident again!

DKFJLSDKJ

PLEASE LET THIS BE THE ACTUAL TRANSLATION OH MY GOD. THIS IS MY NEW FAVORITE LINE IN ANYTHING AHHHH

“I’m leaving it to you, U.A.’s youngsters!” yeah, you and everyone else. ah well, can’t deny they get the job done

OH MMKJKYYYY GODDDDDDJJK

MINA COATED HERSELF IN ACID AND IS RUNNING AT GIGANTOMACHIA AND IS SHE ALSO ON FIRE??!?! SHE’S JUST RUNNING AT HIM LIKE A BIG OL’ FIERY BLOB???! QUEEN MINA???!! FIRE IS NOT HER WEAKNESS???! MINA??!! IS AIRPLANE?!??!!?!? MINAAAAAAA

holy fucking shit this whole arc is just one big Arc Of Ladies Getting To Do Stuff and I am 1000% living for it. THIS ARC IS MY FAMILY. I WOULD DIE FOR IT AND LEAVE EVERYTHING TO IT IN MY WILL. ahhhhhhhhhh

[the-wild-wolves-around-you]

Carry Me Home (A Din Djarin/Reader Fic)

Summary: Din and Reader find themselves on a jungle planet hunting a bounty, but nothing goes as planned, and secrets are shared.

***Based off this line from a previous fic in this series: "Then the mysterious bounty hunter told you his name one day when you were trying to hold his femoral artery together with nothing but bacta gel and hope."

No spoilers. Set in Season 1 between Episode 6 (The Prisoner) & Episode 7 (The Reckoning)

Pairings: Din Djarin/Reader; Din Djarin/You

Rating: M(ature)

Warnings: Blood, gore, & violence. Brief mentions of past slavery. 

A/N: In true Star Wars fashion, I'm just writing shit out of order lol. But the idea for this fic kept bugging me, so i just had to get it out on the page. 

You don't need to read the previous fics to understand this one, though (since the others are set in s2.) I have some more ideas for out of order stories, too, so I'll most likely be continuing this series.But let me know if you'd be interested in a fic from Din's POV! I think that could be fun, but if y'all are digging Reader POV, I'll stick to that.

And in case anyone cares, the title is taken from the lyrics of Arcade by Duncan Lawrence, which I was listening to on repeat as I wrote this. 

As always, I’ve posted this piece on Ao3, but I’ll paste the text below. 

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28763814

I’ll also include the links to the other two fics here: 

The Sea Like Glass Ch 1: Here

The Sea Like Glass Ch 2 (includes smut): Here

“Dank farrik!” you hissed as the wire in front of you sparked and sent a jolt of electricity through your already singed fingers. Not for the first time, you wished you could wear your gloves, but some of the pieces that needed repairing were too small to feel through the bulky material, so you could do nothing more than sacrifice your flesh for the cause.

Didn’t make it hurt less, though. You sucked the smarting tips into your mouth, glaring at the trashed circuit board in front of you, but the ruined hardware only crackled in response.

If you were back in Hanger 3-5 in Mos Eisley, you would have probably trashed the whole part and dug through Peli’s stock for a replacement, or gone down to the market and haggled for something newer, but you weren’t on Tatooine. You were smack dab in the middle of a jungle planetoid you couldn’t remember the name of, and it was up to you to get the Razor Crest running again on what you had available.

Which, admittedly, wasn’t a lot.

You sighed as you sat back on your haunches, using the back of your wrist to swipe at the sweat trailing down your temple. The pre-Empire ship towered over you as you dug into her innards, having pried off one of the semi-melted lower side panels to access the appropriate circuits. Your thin tank top was already drenched, and the hair sticking to the back of your neck kept giving you phantom itches. You wanted nothing more than to tie it up completely, but you always felt naked when your nape was exposed. You weren’t necessarily ashamed of the scar there, or the past connected to it, since it wasn’t your fault you were born into shackles, but… still. It was a… personal story to tell, and you weren’t sure you were ready to share it with your new boss.

Well, “new” was relative. You’d been employed on the Razor Crest for several months now, but you didn’t know much more about the Mandalorian than you did when you’d first set foot onto his ship. You knew he was a bounty hunter, from a race of legendary warriors. You knew he had a partially sordid, and dangerous, past if your encounter with Ran and his crew of mercenaries was any indication. You knew the green baby was his ward, or foundling as he called it, and Mando was tasked with returning the little guy to his people. And you knew his Creed forbid him from removing his helmet.

That was about it. The Mandalorian didn’t talk much, but it didn’t particularly bother you. You’d always been a quieter person, and after years of Peli’s constant chattering, you were kind of relieved for the silence.

Most of the time, anyway.

“How’s it looking?”

You gasped in alarm, jolting yourself off balance and falling back onto your ass in the dirt.

“Maker, Mando,” you panted as you craned your neck back to stare up at the bounty hunter. “What have I told you about sneaking up on me when I’m working on electrics?”

The impervious mask of the Mandalorian stared down at you silently, blotting out the sweltering sun and providing you a modicum of relief. A moment passed, then two, and you shifted uneasily under his unblinking gaze.

“I thought you heard me approach,” he said finally, his modulated voice flat and unaffected, but he didn’t move from where he was looming over you.

“Well, I didn’t,” you grumbled as you flopped your head forward and popped your neck, stretching your legs out in the dirt.

The tight leggings you wore ended not too far past your knees, so your shins were streaked with the red soil of this planetoid. The dirt didn’t bother you, but the heat sure did. It was different than Tatooine’s dry desert. This heat was oppressive, stifling, almost cloying, and every time you took a deep breath, a small part of your brain panicked, images of drowning flashing through your mind even though you knew it was irrational. You were just grateful your clothes didn’t look a fraction as hot as the Mandalorian’s all black get-up and what had to be twenty-five kilos of armor.

“So,” the bounty hunter said after a few more moments of silence, interrupted only by the call of exotic birds in the canopy, “how are things looking?”

“Honestly?” you sighed as you pushed yourself off the ground, dusting the red dirt off your hands but not even bothering with your pants. “Not good. The bounty’s guns must have grazed us when we were still outside orbit, and entering the atmosphere certainly didn’t help matters. Some of the side paneling has been melted beyond repair, and a lot of the wiring is fried, too.”

“Can you get it flying?” Mando asked, crossing his arms over his chest and making his silhouette all the more imposing. The sun glinted off his silver beskar, and you squinted in the glare.

“Maybe.” You pursed your lips and averted your gaze, turning back to stare at the charred panels and sparking wires. Sweat trickled down your neck, and you reached back to cup your nape, feeling the bounty hunter’s eyes on you.

“Didn’t know I was paying you for maybes.”

“You’re not paying me at all if you can’t even catch that quarry,” you snorted before your brain could catch up to your mouth.

You froze when the words finally registered, nails digging into the back of your neck. Stupid. Your mouth always did get the better of you. You used to mouth-off to your former owner until he backhanded you into silence, and now you’re starting shit with a bounty hunter you’d seen kill half a dozen men in just as many seconds.

Stupid.

You waited for Mando to say something, staring at the Razor Crest without even seeing it, and even if you didn’t really believe he’d hurt you for a simple off-handed comment, your body didn’t get the message. Muscle memory was a hard thing to forget, and every fiber in you braced for the blow.

The birds chittered in the towering blue-green canopy above your head as sweat poured from every single one of your pores, and you were just about to come out of your skin when the Mandalorian finally spoke.

“Well, to catch the quarry, I need my ship to fly,” he said, and when you chanced a glance over your shoulder, you discovered he’d somehow moved further away from you, like he took several steps back.

Was he… giving you space?

His tone was still flat, but after several months spent in close proximity with the bounty hunter, you were now able to parse out several different minor inflections in his modulated voice. You were by no means an expert, but you knew for a fact he didn’t sound angry in this moment. When he was angry, his voice took on a softer, menacing quality. The few times you’d heard it—thankfully never directed at you—every hair on your body stood on end, and the lizard part of your brain had screamed to run and not stop running until you were in a completely different star system.

This wasn’t anger. This was… something else. You almost wanted to say… amusement, but that would have been crazy.

Still, the tension bled out of your shoulders like sand through a sieve, and you dropped your arms as you turned to face the Mandalorian fully again.

“Alright, this is the best I can do,” you said. “I can get her flying again, I think I can even get her shielded enough to withstand leaving the atmosphere when we’re done here, but it’s gonna take some time.”

“How much time?” he asked.

You glanced over your shoulder again at the damage, did some calculations in your head, and added some padding to give yourself a margin for error. Then you turned back to the bounty hunter.

“At least two days,” you replied, confident in your abilities. “Anything less, and we risk blowing ourselves to the Inner Core and back when I go to start her up.”

“Hmm.” Mando stared at you for a moment and then shifted to gaze into the jungle. “The bounty will most likely be off planet by then.”

“I don’t think so,” you contradicted him, and your heart actually skipped a beat when the T of his visor turned to look at you. There was something nerve-wracking about staring into the dark, reflective glass, but then you noticed your red-streaked appearance, and you cringed self-consciously as you looked away.

“Why do you say that?” he asked.

“Because,” you started, stooping down to pick up the tablet beside your tool bag, “when I first came out here and saw the damage, I was afraid we’d end up in this situation. But then I remembered that the quarry’s ship took more damage than we did in our little space battle. I know for a fact we landed at least one solid hit, I saw it myself.”

“And?”

“Well,” you said as you tapped at the screen, “given the make and model of his vessel, and the location of where we struck the ship, I was able to deduce that we most likely damaged his engines. If his engines are damaged, then there is a maximum distance he could have gone before he would have been forced to land, or even crash landed. With all this information, plus the fact that I knew the general location of where we lost visual of him when we entered the atmosphere, I’ve estimated the quarry can’t be farther than five klicks from our current coordinates. And with his entry trajectory, he’s most likely in this triangulated area three and a half klicks to the west, which should be easily reachable on foot.”

You turned the map on the tablet to face the Mandalorian, and he stepped forward to take the device from you. His gloved fingers brushed across your singed ones, remnant electricity shooting through your veins, and you stifled a flinch as you dropped your arm.

Mando studied the map for a long moment, cocking his head and zooming in to get a better look. You shifted uneasily in the silence, scuffing the tip of your boot into the red soil, but then the bounty hunter finally looked back up at you.

“When did you have time to do this?” he asked, and he actually sounded… impressed. “You were out here for less than ten minutes after we landed.”

“It wasn’t that hard.” You shrugged as your cheeks flushed with heat, but you blamed the sweltering sun overhead and the soup-like air.

“I didn’t realize you were so good with numbers,” he said, his helmet staring directly at you.

“Numbers are easy,” you replied, shrugging again as you raised your hand to chew nervously on your nails, but you stopped yourself when you saw the crimson dirt still caked on your skin. “They don’t lie, once you understand the rules.”

“Did Peli teach you how to do this?” he inquired, and you were surprised by all these questions. Most of the time, the bounty hunter asked you one-or-two-word questions and expected one-or-two-word answers. You couldn’t figure out why this situation was any different, but you found yourself responding anyway.

“Partially,” you explained, and you wondered how you could phrase your answer to be vague but satisfactory. “She… taught me a lot of the specifics for bigger jobs like ships and larger machines, but I’ve always been good at numbers and tinkering.”

That seemed good enough. You didn’t think it was relevant that you first started tinkering because your former owner used to lock you in his shop’s basement with broken droids when you misbehaved, and putting the discarded machines back together kept you from going crazy when your punishments lasted days. You also didn’t think it relevant that when your former owner found out and realized he could profit off your skills, you fine-tuned your abilities to become indispensable. The bastard still hit you occasionally, and his other slaves weren’t treated any better, but you had to admit, him locking you in the basement all those years had saved your life. If you hadn’t cultivated the skills you had, Peli wouldn’t have bought you at auction when the bastard bit the sand, and she wouldn’t have dug out your transmitter chip and effectively freed you the moment you walked into Hanger 3-5. The tiny woman had said she needed an apprentice, not a slave, and so that was what you became. Now, you were a mechanic in your own right, and a damn good one if you did say so yourself. Mando just didn’t need to know how you’d gotten there.

The bounty hunter seemed to think the same thing, too, because he nodded once before he looked back at the tablet.

“This is good work,” he said, and something in your chest preened at his words before you squashed it down. “If these calculations are correct—”

“They are,” you interjected before you could stop yourself.

“Then I think I can set out on foot, find the quarry, and bring him back tomorrow just as you’re finishing the repairs,” Mando went on, and he glanced up at you again. “Does that time frame sound right to you?”

“Maybe.” You shrugged. “Should work for me, but it could take you a little longer. I’m unfamiliar with this terrain, and there are too many other variables, like jungle beasts or indigenous species, for me to be sure.”

“The terrain won’t be a problem,” the Mandalorian said as he handed you the tablet back. “And neither will any beasts or natives.”

You cocked an eyebrow at the bounty hunter but didn’t contradict his confidence. “Alright. Then, yes, I should have the ship up and running by the time you get back. Are you leaving now?”

“Once I grab some supplies,” Mando replied before he paused and seemed to consider you. “Will you be… okay until I return?”

It was a familiar question, albeit still surprising. The Mandalorian was a stoic, usually silent warrior, literally a wall of beskar steel. You’d seen him kill men as easy as breathing, and he threw each bounty into carbonite without an ounce of remorse.

And yet, every time he had to leave the ship alone, he asked you if you would be alright until he got back. The question and concern would have made no sense… if you hadn’t seen the bounty hunter interact with his foundling. He tried to hide it, but he treated the little green baby so gently you knew there had to be a warm, beating heart beneath all that beskar. You just never expected any tenderness to be aimed at you, so it drew you up short every time.

“Yeah.” You smiled. “I’ll be fine. Besides—”

You trailed off as you felt something touch your lower leg, and when you looked down, big brown eyes set in a little green face blinked back up at you. Then little green hands lifted in your direction, and you laughed as you swooped down, picked him up, and set him on your hip.

“Besides,” you continued, still chuckling as you booped the child on the nose and left a smudge of red dirt behind, “I’ll have this little guy to keep me company. Right, kid?”

The baby cooed and reached out, his three tiny fingers settling on the bridge of your nose as he tried to boop you back. When he withdrew his hand, though, his skin was dyed black.

“Huh?” You frowned at the slick ooze on his fingers, your eyes crossing as you tried to bring his hand into focus. “What’s on your hand there, bud?”

“It’s grease,” Mando supplied.

“What?” you asked as you turned your head to the bounty hunter.

“Grease,” he repeated, and he touched the intersection on the glass T of his visor, right over where the bridge of his nose would sit. “You’ve got some just there.”

“Oh.” You blushed, your hand flying up to cover your face. Not only were you covered in dirt and sweat, but grease now, too. Typical. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I thought you knew,” the Mandalorian said, but there was that faint undercurrent in his voice that you were sure was amusement now. “Don’t you have any rags?”

“I did,” you muttered as you tried to rub at your face with your shoulder, “but I had to throw most of them out after that oil leak we had on the moon we left about a week ago. It’s fine. I’m already a mess anyhow, and I’m just going to get dirtier as I fix up the ship.”

Mando seemed to stare at you intensely for a moment, and you had the feeling he was taking in just how filthy your clothes were. You could read nothing from his body language, though, and since he wasn’t speaking, there was nothing to infer from his voice, either. Embarrassed heat crawled up your neck, and you suddenly felt naked in your tank top and leggings. You shifted the child in your arms a little to bring him more in front of you and block more of you from view, but the effort was useless because Mando was abruptly spinning on heel and marching toward the ship’s ramp.

“I’m going to gather supplies,” he said gruffly over his shoulder. “Don’t let the kid touch any of the wires.”

And then he was gone, his cape flapping behind him as he disappeared into the bowels of the Razor Crest.

“Okay, bye,” you muttered, and you frowned after him before looking down at the kid and lowering your voice. “Your dad’s a little weird, you know that?”

The child blinked up at you and then seemed to nod his head in solemn agreement.

You laughed and kissed the top of his head even though you knew you were toeing a dangerous line here. You knew you were just the ship mechanic, the hired help, but you and the foundling had spent a lot of time together when the Mandalorian was out hunting bounties, and you couldn’t help loving the adorable baby like he was your own. He was mischievous and always looking to put things in his mouth that he shouldn’t, but something about his presence was calming, soothing. Plus, those big brown eyes were to die for. You weren’t even that surprised the kid had managed to wiggle his way under Mando’s beskar. It had only been a few months, but you knew without a shadow of a doubt that if it came down to it, you would give your life to save this child.

Which was wildly inappropriate, but you chose to ignore that fact.

“It’s just gonna be the two of us again for a bit, little man,” you told the foundling, turning back to face the Razor Crest. “But we’re gonna have some fun, yeah? Do you want to help me fix up the ship?”

The child gurgled into your ear and patted your cheek, which you took as an affirmative.

“Alright,” you laughed as you set him on a large root right next to your tool bag. You dug around until you found a tool you would need eventually, and then you handed it to the kid. “Here, hold this until I need it, okay? But don’t put it in your mouth.”

The foundling seemed to pout at that last bit, but he dutifully wrapped his three little fingers around the tool and held it firmly.

“Thank you.” You smiled. Then you turned back to the ship, put your hands on your hips, and furrowed your brow. “Now, where to start?”

You spent the next ten minutes assessing what was completely ruined, what was salvageable, and what you had on hand that wasn’t necessary and could possibly be retrofitted to fix the damage. The skeletal beginnings of a plan were already forming in your mind by the time the Mandalorian was clomping down the ramp again. You set down the tablet you’d been tapping away at and picked up the child once more, and the foundling babbled as he waved around the tool he was still holding.

“Be careful with that,” you chuckled, and you craned your head back to avoid getting smacked in the temple. “I’ll need it soon, so keep holding onto it.”

The child cooed and then shifted to wave the tool at the bounty hunter as he approached.

“Putting the kid to work now?” Mando asked as he stopped a few feet away. The crescent-shaped hilt of his favored Amban rifle jutted out over his left shoulder, and a small bag was slung over his right, probably filled with spare ammo, cuffs for the bounty, and possibly some food. You’d never personally seen the Mandalorian eat, though, and a part of you was convinced he didn’t, even if you rationally knew that wasn’t possible.

“Nah, I’m just teaching him a thing or two,” you said as you settled the foundling more soundly on your hip. “You’re never too young to learn something new, and on the plus side, being my little helper keeps him out of trouble. For the most part, anyway.”

“Thank you for watching him,” the bounty hunter said, tilting his visor down minutely to stare at the child, who grinned a gummy grin and waved the silver tool again. “I know it isn’t exactly what I hired you for—”

“I don’t mind,” you cut him off, and you glanced down to smile at the kid. “He’s pretty good company, and some of Peli’s droids have given me more trouble than he does. It’s really no problem.”

“Well, regardless,” Mando replied as his visor returned to studying you. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” You nodded, flushing again under his scrutiny. Then you cleared your throat and gestured at the bag on his back. “All ready?”

“Yes,” the bounty hunter said. “Days are longer here, but the sun will set eventually, and I want to try and find the quarry before moonrise. If all goes well, I should be back tomorrow before sunset.”

“Good luck, then,” you told him, and you lifted your chin with confidence. “I should have the ship ready when you return.”

“Thank you.” He inclined his helmet.

The baby suddenly burst out babbling something, and you glanced down to see him reaching out with his free hand toward the Mandalorian. His three little fingers made grabby motions, and the bounty hunter sighed.

“Listen to her while I’m gone, okay?” Mando murmured as he stepped closer into your personal bubble and held out his finger for the foundling to latch on to.

The child cooed, swinging the Mandalorian’s finger from side to side, and the breath stilled in your lungs as the bounty hunter’s glove brushed the edge of your mouth. You smelled something like leather and smoke, probably blaster residue, but then Mando was stepping back again, and the baby was forced to drop his finger.

“Keep alert,” he addressed you as he adjusted the pack on his shoulder. “We’re pretty far from any civilization out here, so I don’t think you should encounter anyone, but don’t assume you’re safe. And get inside the ship once the sun sets. The jungle will be more dangerous at night. I’ll have my comlink on me, but it’s affected by proximity, so you most likely won’t be able to contact me until I’m on my way back.”

“Don’t worry, Mando,” you said, and you patted the blaster he’d given you that was almost permanently attached to your hip. “I can defend myself if need be, and I have no desire to be caught outside after dark. We’ll be fine.”

“I know,” he replied, but you weren’t sure if he was trying to convince you or himself. Either way, he seemed to compose himself because he nodded once. “I’ll be back soon.”

“We’ll keep a weather eye on the horizon.” You smiled. “Try not to die of heat stroke.”

“I’ll try my best,” he said dryly, but after one more moment of staring at you and the foundling, he turned on heel and marched off into the jungle without another word. The multi-colored trees swallowed him almost instantly, and suddenly you were alone.

The child cooed sadly as he stared after the Mandalorian, and he turned his big brown eyes on you as if to say, Where’d he go?

“Don’t worry, bud,” you said, turning back to the ship. “He’ll be fine and back before you know it. Now, let’s take a look at those power converters, shall we?”

You set the foundling down beside your tool bag again, but you couldn’t help glancing over your shoulder in the direction the bounty hunter had disappeared in.

He’ll be fine and back before you know it, you repeated silently to yourself.

~~~~~

Two days later, you were starting to doubt the validity of your statements.

The sun had set and risen twice, and there was still no sign of Mando. Now, the celestial orb was steadily making its way across the horizon for the third time, and you sat on the ramp of the ship and glared up at the chattering canopy.

The child was down for a nap in the hammock the Mandalorian had set up in his own bunk, and your eyes burned with a similar exhaustion, but the anxiety slowly mounting in you made it impossible to sleep. The past two days had passed uneventfully. You’d spent every hour of sunlight you had at your disposal patching together the ship, and since days were longer on this planetoid, you estimated you’d spent over seventy-two hours getting the Razor Crest in working order again.

And you’d done it. It wasn’t perfect, but the ship could fly, and you were ninety-eight percent certain it would withstand leaving the atmosphere.

Now, all that was missing was the Mandalorian and his bounty.

“Dank farrik, Mando,” you grumbled under your breath as you dragged your singed, cut-up, and bandaged fingers through your hair. “Where the Maker are you?”

The chittering birds and critters in the underbrush didn’t have an answer for you, and you huffed out an aggravated breath as another bead of sweat dripped into your eyes.

By your estimate, there were about six hours left before the sun set again. Part of you, the illogical, irrational part, wanted to charge into the jungle in search of the Mandalorian. You had a general direction and location he should be in. Maybe you could find him.

But the rational side of your brain thankfully pointed out all the problems with that plan. For one, leaving the ship unattended was dangerous. You hadn’t seen anyone in the past two days, but that didn’t mean you were alone in the jungle, and now that the ship could fly again, someone could potentially walk right in and steal the vessel if you weren’t here to stop them.

Then there was the issue of the foundling. Sometimes, Mando took you and the kid along with him when he was hunting a bounty in a more populated area, but he was always there to protect the two of you if something went wrong. What happened if you brought the child with you into the jungle and you couldn’t protect him? And you couldn’t exactly leave him behind. Someone could steal both the child and the Razor Crest in that scenario.

The most compelling reason to stay with the ship, though, was Mando himself. Before he left, he’d confidently declared that neither the jungle itself nor the beasts or peoples therein would pose any problem for him. If he was wrong, and these things had posed a problem for the bounty hunter, what luck did you have of doing something he could not?

Anddddd that’s where the irrational side of you chimed in again with, Well, if he did run into an issue, he could need your help, so you should go look for him.

It was a vicious cycle, and your head was pounding with how fast it was running in circles.

You groaned as you dropped your face into your hands, digging the heels of your palms into your eye sockets.

“Fine,” you sighed into the darkness. “I’ll give him until morning.”

If the Mandalorian hadn’t returned by then, you’d start up the ship and fly over the area you’d triangulated for him. If you couldn’t find him from the air… well, you’d cross that bridge when you came to it.

~~~~~

You huffed in irritation as you tossed and turned in Mando’s bunk that night. You turned one way, rolled another, but then you found yourself with your nose buried in his pillow, and you instantly flipped back over, face hot with embarrassment even though it was dark and you were practically alone. You weren’t sure if he slept with his helmet on when he was alone in the closed confines of the bunk, but either way, the small space smelled of him intensely. You tried not to put words to his scent, told yourself it was inappropriate and he was your boss, a Mandalorian to boot, and you had no room or right to think of him in any way other than strictly professional… but that apparently didn’t work because you knew he smelled like the cheap soap from the fresher, and the rest was a blend of smoke, leather, and metal, the degrees of which varied by the day and yet was still always uniquely him.

You knew you were playing a losing game even just having these thoughts, but you somehow couldn’t help yourself, couldn’t stop yourself. Ever since Mando stepped between you and Ran’s crew all those months ago, blocking you with his body, a startling, protective rage in every inch of his armored silhouette, this little voice had come to life in the back of your head and wouldn’t shut the kriff up.

What if? the little voice whispered. What if it’s not just you having these thoughts? What if you could have him in more than just your dreams and fantasies in the darkness of this bunk?

Usually, you shoved the voice into the deep, dark recesses of your thoughts and recited equations until it grew quiet. You knew that was nothing but wishful thinking at best and delusion at worst. The Mandalorian was just that: a warrior closed off from the world by a shell of silver beskar. He cared for the foundling, yes, but that was entirely different and bore no correlation to the bounty hunter’s relationship with you. There was little he could possibly want from a former slave turned mechanic, aside from your skills, of course, so you clenched your eyes closed and tried to take shallow breaths through your mouth, but nothing you did could get his scent out of your nose, your memory.

You sighed for the umpteenth time and rolled to face the wall of the bunk.

When the bounty hunter was on the ship, the two of you usually slept in shifts so you could share the bunk, though sometimes the Mandalorian slept upright in the cockpit. It had been his idea originally. You’d been fine with a thin sleeping mat on the floor of the cargo bay, but he’d insisted in his strange, stoic, nonchalant way. So, you shared, and when it was just you and the kid on the ship, the two of you had the run of the place.

The child was currently in the hammock above your head, but you were pretty sure he wasn’t asleep, either. Every so often, he’d gurgle or make some other noise, and more than once you peeked up to find big brown eyes staring down at you in the dimness. You wondered if he could sense your anxiety, and you shifted so you could glare past your feet, out of the bunk, and at the closed ramp door.

You wanted to be angry with Mando, but by the time the sun set a few hours ago, you’d moved past that anger and straight into worry. The bounty hunter had never been gone this long before without contact, and your gut told you something was wrong and wouldn’t let you sleep. You wished you could blame your insomnia completely on your concern, but sadly, that wasn’t the case.

As if on cue, a sudden, piercing shriek echoed through the ship, and all the muscles in your body locked up on reflex.

The child gasped and made a worried noise as he poked his head over the edge of his hammock and stared down at you, and you tried to plaster on a fake, reassuring smile.

“It’s alright,” you murmured, reaching up to gently rock the foundling. “The ship’s closed and locked up. They can’t get us in here.”

The baby made an unconvinced sound, but he settled back into his bed without any further argument.

You sighed as you continued to rock the child, and you did your best not to flinch when another high-pitched screech sounded outside the ship.

You weren’t entirely sure what “they” were, but you knew they were nocturnal and carnivorous. And hungry. The past two mornings, you’d found bloody animal remains torn to bits and strewn along the edges of the clearing the Razor Crest was parked in like gory, crimson confetti. You’d kept the child practically glued to your side during the days because of this, but nothing ever attacked you during the day. They just circled the ship incessantly at night, howling and screeching and keeping you from finding a moment’s peace or rest. They hadn’t outright attacked the ship yet, but you were ready for it, your borrowed blaster a cold and heavy weight tucked under your pillow.

Reaching for it now, you curled your fingers around the familiar hilt and tried to block out the crescendoing, bloodthirsty shrieks of the mysterious jungle beasts.

You didn’t know how or when, but you must have dozed off at some point because all of the sudden, you jolted awake with a panicked gasp.

The bunk was dark and close around you, but since you’d left the door open at your feet, it wasn’t claustrophobic. Your vision was still blurry with sleep, so you swiped at your eyes with the back of your left wrist as you scrambled into a seated position. In your right hand you grasped the blaster, and you pointed it blindly in front of you, toward the rear of the ship.

You couldn’t remember what had woken you up, but it had been something. Your heart pounded a frantic tattoo into the underside of your ribcage, your arm shaking minutely with adrenaline. The ramp was still closed in front of you, so it hadn’t been Mando opening the door and returning. You squinted in the darkness but couldn’t see anything beyond shadows and vague shapes in pale, muted moonlight. It must have still been night, then.

You strained your ears, listening for the howling, but it was quiet. Suspiciously quiet. The jungle beasts usually didn’t go silent until right before dawn, but it was dark enough in the ship that you estimated it was still the middle of the night.

Where had they gone?

Your heart rose up into your throat, sweat beading at every one of your pores, and your mouth was so dry that your throat clicked when you swallowed.

The child made a noise of inquiry above you, barely louder than a breath, but it still made you jump all the same. Your gaze darted upward to find brown eyes staring down at you, but they were wide in an alarmed sort of way. One three-fingered hand poked over the edge of the hammock, making grabby motions at you, and the noise he made this time was more urgent, louder.

Had he heard something, too?

“What is it, little guy?” you whispered, reaching up with your free hand and awkwardly grappling him from his sling-bed.

He tumbled gently into your lap with a soft “oof,” but almost immediately he was standing up, turning around, and frantically patting at your cheek.

“What?” you asked with a frown.

He babbled and continued to tap the side of your face, and his noises grew increasingly distressed until he was grunting with frustration.

Then his tiny palm actually slapped down right across your ear canal so hard that both of your ears rang, and you hissed as you jerked your head back.

“Kriff, what was that fo—” you started to ask, but another hiss cut you off, and this one wasn’t from you.

Your heart stuttered, eyes skipping over the child’s head and out into the cargo bay, and your right hand tightened around the blaster you’d lowered to your side.

But there was nothing there. Nothing moved in the shadowy ship beyond you, and you frowned, thinking your mind was playing tricks on your startled and sleep-addled mind, but then the hiss came again.

And this time, you recognized it.

“Oh, pfassk!” you cursed as you craned around and shoved your hand under the pillow. Your fingers scrambled wildly across the sheet but encountered nothing, and you growled in aggravation, shifting the child off your lap and coming onto your hands and knees. You tossed the pillow over your shoulder in a fit of frustration, and your right hand slapped at the wall around your head until the bunk light came on.

You squinted in the flood of harsh light, the child gurgling behind you, but when your vision cleared, you spotted the thumb-sized comlink off the edge of the cot, shoved up into the far corner of the bunk. You lunged forward and wrapped your fingers around the small device, and the words were falling out of your mouth before you were even sure you had hit the button.

“Mando?” you called into the comlink, cringing when your loud voice echoed back to you in the close confines of the bunk. “Mando, can you hear me?”

Mild static crackled back for a moment as you huddled around the tiny communicator, but then a louder burst of static—the hiss from earlier—exploded to life.

And you were sure you heard Mando’s voice in there.

“Mando!” you shouted as you heart did its best imitation of a speeder, and you cupped both hands around the comlink like that would help him hear you better. “Mando, it’s me! I’m here. Can you hear me?”

Another burst of static. Then…

Mando yelled your name, clear as day, followed by a scream of what sounded like “help” and a chorus of familiar howling, and your stomach bottomed out inside of you.

“Mando!” You were gripping the communicator so hard you were afraid you were going to break it. “Mando, where are you? What’s wrong?”

He didn’t respond. You sat there frozen for a full minute, ears straining to the point of ringing, but only quiet static crackled back at you.

“Dank farrik!” you cursed, punching the side of your fist into the bunk wall.

The child cooed at you, brown eyes big with concern, and he put his tiny hand on your knee as you raked a shaking hand through your hair.

Your chest heaved up and down as you fought for breath, your mind spinning off into a million directions at once.

Mando was in trouble. Mando needed your help. He was fighting jungle beasts, and he was far enough away that you couldn’t hear the shrieking with your own ears, but close enough that he could partially reach you over the comlink. You had to do something. You had to go help him.

But what about the child? What about the ship? You couldn’t take the Razor Crest. It was pitch black outside, and you wouldn’t be able to see Mando below the thick, dark canopy. You had to go on foot.

And you had to take the kid with you.

“Come on,” you said as you tucked the communicator into your pocket, grabbed the foundling and blaster, and scooted to the edge of the bunk. Your boots were on the ground below you, and you shoved your feet in them blindly, tying the laces in three deft movements.

Then you were on your feet, turning on the cargo lights, and jogging the child over to his floating silver carrier. You grabbed the spare remote on top of it, pressing the button and watching the top slide open with a hiss. Then you set the foundling down inside of it, and in the same motion you were tucking the remote into your pocket, turning on heel, and striding for the armory.

Another button press, followed by the hiss of hydraulics, and you were left staring at several walls of guns and weaponry. Some of them you knew. Mando had even taught you how to shoot a few, but those were typically smaller blasters.

And based on those howling screeches, you needed something with more of a kick.

Your eyes skipped over the blaster pistols since you already had the one on your hip, and after a moment’s indecision, your gaze settled on a midsized rifle you’d shot once before. You hadn’t been very good at it, only hit four of the ten targets Mando set out, and you remember it being very heavy.

But it was better than nothing, and you needed something to fight back against the dark jungle.

So, you took the rifle down and looped it around your shoulder, pursing your lips as the strap dug into your skin. You spent a moment checking the power cell and gas canister, and even though both were full, you still stuck a few spares into a belt that you wrapped around your hips. You also added a few grenades to your arsenal, both explosive and ones set to stun, plus a pair of Mando’s vibroknives, as a last defense measure. If you were being honest, if the rifle and grenades failed you, you probably wouldn’t live long enough to use the knives, but it made you feel better to clip their sheaths unto your belt.

The rifle and belt weighed you down with an extra five to six kilos, but you had lugged far heavier burdens through Tatooine’s desert, so you knew you could handle it.

The last two things you grabbed were the head lamp you typically wore when working under or inside ships and the cuff you’d programmed to work the twin lights—along with a variety of other tasks aboard the Razor Crest—resting at each of your temples. The cuff was a haphazard creation of yours made of old leather, metal, and glass, but it worked and was comfortable, which was all that mattered. It also had a small magnetic slot that was specifically meant for the remote of the foundling’s floating carrier, so you fished that out of your pocket and felt it snap into place with a satisfying click.

You were armed and ready now. All you had to do was move.

“Mando,” you said as you stuck the comlink in your ear and synced it to your cuff, which had a built-in frequency booster. You were already moving toward the ramp, tapping at your wrist and listening to the foundling’s carrier humming after you. The rifle felt heavy as you maneuvered it into your slick palms, and your heart hammered a war song in your ears. “Mando, I’m coming for you. Just hold on, okay?”

Static crackled in your ear, and your chest began to heave up and down as adrenaline flooded through you.

“Okay, little man, you’re going to take a nap, alright?” you said as you looked down at the child in his pod, your voice shaking even though you tried to stop it. “And when you wake up, your dad will be back with us.”

He cooed up at you with a fearful expression on his face, but you only spared a moment to press a kiss to his head before you were tapping at your wrist again. The lid of the pod started to hiss close as the ramp of the ship began to clank open, and you slid your finger onto the rifle’s trigger as the door slowly lowered before you.

The ramp finally thudded to the jungle floor, and you took a moment to stare out into the foreboding darkness. The moon was pale and wan in the purple-tinted sky, and all you could see were shadows along the edges of the clearing. Your eyes darted back and forth, every muscle in your body locked and braced for an attack, but nothing happened. Nothing moved save the indigo clouds over head, and the only sound you heard was the muted chirps and hums of insects.

“Okay, come on, quit stalling,” you muttered to yourself even though your heart felt like it was about to roll off your tongue. “Mando doesn’t have time for this.”

At the sound of his name—or at least, the only name you had ever known the bounty hunter by—some of the fear inside you vanished, and you were suddenly jogging down the ramp without further thought. The child’s carrier trailed after you quietly, and you jabbed at your wrist to close and lock up the Razor Crest.

You spared half a glance over your shoulder to make sure the ramp was secured, and then you looked down at your cuff. Mando’s comlink had a built in GPS transmitter, but its range was limited. However, if he was close enough to briefly contact you…

A dot flickered in and out on the grungy screen on your wrist, and you spun in a circle to figure out which direction had the strongest connection. The dot flared brightly when you angled toward the west, and you started running before you even had a plan.

You crashed through the underbrush with the child’s pod hot on your heels, and the thick, humid air sawed in and out of your heaving lungs as you gasped for breath. The lights at your temples provided enough illumination to see several steps ahead of you but not much else, and you tripped and careened over root and vine as you tried not to lose your grip on the rifle.

The good news was the dot on your read-out was no longer flickering, and it was now a strong red point about a kilometer ahead of you.

The bad news?

The jungle was no longer quiet around you.

As your feet pounded into the red soil and carried you forward, static crackled loudly in your ear, and the howling returned, faint at first but growing closer. Shivers wracked your sweat-slicked spine, and every fiber of your being was screaming to run the other way.

But you couldn’t. Because now you could hear Mando grunting and shouting over the comlink, clearer and clearer with each step, and as you vaulted over a protruding root in your path, you distinctly heard a roar of rage directly ahead of you.

You would have shouted his name if there was any breath left in your lungs, but instead you just lowered your head and sprinted as fast as you could.

The howling was nearly deafening now, echoing all around you, seeming to come from every shadow in the jungle. Your ears rang with the soul-piercing shrieks, and the cacophony was so disorienting, you tripped over your own feet and crashed into the dirt.

“Kriff!” you gasped, your knees and palms stinging as you skidded to a halt. Dots danced in front of your eyes as you panted harshly, and the rifle knocked painfully against your sternum.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the child’s pod come to a stop several feet away, the silver orb glinting in the pale moonlight barely filtering through the canopy.

Then you saw something else shift in the shadows behind the floating carrier.

At first, you thought it was your swimming vision, but then the weak lights of your headlamp reflected off several glinting eyes, and the breath stalled in your lungs.

A guttural, wet growl echoed out of the bushes beyond the foundling’s pod, and in the next instant the beast was lunging forward, vaulting over the carrier in one bound.

You yelped as you scrambled backward, fumbling for the rifle’s trigger, and you got the barrel up just in time to block a bifurcated jaw of gnashing fangs. The beast let out a piercing shriek as it snapped at your face, and the familiar sound nearly popped your eardrum at this proximity, but the pain barely even registered as you wedged your legs up under the creature’s chest and heaved it off you.

The beast let out a high-pitched yip as it smacked into a tree trunk, but you didn’t give it the chance to regain its feet. In one swift movement, you brought the rifle up, sighted down the barrel, and pulled the trigger.

The blaster must have been set on full-auto because a continuous stream of energy screamed out of the weapon, and the barrel jerked upward with the recoil. Bolts of energy shredded through the vines and branches overhead, and some kind of bat-bird creature screeched as it dove out of the canopy and swooped over you. It thankfully wasn’t trying to attack, merely flee, and the avian-beast cawed angrily as it disappeared into the jungle.

“P-Pfassk,” you panted, your voice as jittery as your racing pulse. Still, you scrambled to your feet, with the smoking rifle held tight in your shaking grasp, and you stared wide-eyed at the corpse of the beast that had attacked you.

The thing was almost two meters long, and six disjointed looking limbs jutted out from underneath it. Your would-be-killer looked vaguely canine yet also insect-like, with its long snout and what looked like scaled plates along its spine. The combination made your stomach churn. The blaster had carved smoldering holes into most of the creature’s flesh, but the uncharred remains were blackish-purple, mottled with spots of blue and green that matched the jungle’s underbrush. The beast was entirely hairless and slick-looking like an oil spill, and its bifurcated maw hung open to reveal rows of rotted black fangs. Two pairs of pale white eyes stared blindly up at the dark sky, and purplish blood seeped out around the carcass to stain the jungle floor.

Bile rose in your throat, but before you could even process your fear, terror, and revulsion, a very human sounding scream echoed through the dark night, and you whipped your head in the direction it had come from.

“Mando,” you breathed, and you spared the dead beast one last glance before you took off running again, every sense on high alert.

You didn’t dare blink as you crashed through the underbrush, and you pushed your aching limbs as fast as they would go. The din of snarling and howling was so loud now it was rattling your teeth, and all of the sudden you were stumbling out of the thick tree line and into a small clearing.

A clearing riddled with bodies, both living and dead.

Your brain stuttered as it tried to assess the scene before you. The canopy overhead was broken in a perfect circle, so the moonlight here was strong and bright after the deep shadows of the jungle, and it illuminated everything perfectly. The Mandalorian stood in the center of the carnage, half collapsed against a rotten log twice as tall as he was. Carcasses of the canine-like beasts were piled up in mounds around the clearing, some shot but some charred into blackened skeletons, and the stench of burnt flesh invaded your nose and sat heavy on the back of your tongue.

For every dead beast, though, there were two more still snarling, and boy, were they pissed.

The pack of creatures prowled in a semi-circle before the bounty hunter, all their attention centered on him, and they growled and snapped their bifurcated jaws in his direction. They didn’t seem to want to attack him head on, and a moment later you saw why.

One of the beasts must have reached its breaking point, because with the same piercing shriek that had kept you up the past two nights, it lunged for the Mandalorian, the moonlight glinting off the armored plates along its spine.

The poor bastard never made it.

While the creature was still in mid-air, Mando jerked his wrist up, and a blast of flames roared out of his vambrace. The beast screeched as it was swallowed by the inferno, and its charred corpse crashed to the ground at Mando’s feet a moment later. The remainder of the pack snarled in fury as they paced in front of the bounty hunter, but you felt your throat tighten with fear.

The flamethrower was obviously a great weapon at repelling these creatures, but judging by the radius on that last spurt of fire, you estimated Mando had enough fuel for one, maybe two more attacks.

And there were dozens of the beasts left.

What were you going to do?

You heaved for breath as your eyes darted around the clearing, trying to look for a solution, but you knew the answer was obvious: you were going to have to fight.

You blindly tapped at your wrist, and a moment later the child’s carrier rose up above your head and nestled against the lowest branch of the tree you were standing under. You didn’t know if the beasts could climb, but the pod was made of a strong, reinforced metal, so as long as the creatures didn’t notice the kid, he should be fine.

The same couldn’t be said for you.

Maker, you were going to regret this, weren’t you?

You didn’t give yourself the chance to change your mind.

“Hey!” you shouted as you stepped further into the clearing, one of your hands dropping to the belt on your waist.

The chorus of snarls and growls tapered off for a moment as the pack whipped around in unison to face you, and the saliva evaporated in your mouth as you stared at the dozens of glowing white eyes.

At the sound of your voice, you could see Mando jerk upright in your peripherals, but you didn’t dare tear your eyes off the pack as they started to stalk toward you. Sweat dripped down your face and trickled along your spine as you palmed a cold, heavy orb in your right hand, and you watched the distance between you and the creatures shrink bit by bit.

Mando shouted your name, but you ignored him.

“Yeah, that’s right!” you yelled at the beasts instead. “You guys hungry? Why don’t you come and get me?”

“What are you doing?” Mando roared, but you still didn’t pay him any mind as you tracked the pack. There were maybe three dozen left alive, and they bared their black fangs at you as they drew closer and closer.

Twenty meters… fifteen… ten…

Now.

“Take this!” You heaved your arm back, aimed at the beast in the center of the pack’s line, and threw with all your might, and the creature yelped as the stun grenade struck him in the skull.

A moment later, a web of electricity exploded out of the orb and arced through half of the pack, and the poor bastards screeched and screamed as they fell spasming to the jungle floor. The beasts on the edges snarled as they jumped away from their sparking brethren, and you saw some of the canine-monsters retreat into the shadows of the clearing.

This was your chance.

You darted forward the moment you had a clear path to take, and you vaulted over the pack’s twitching bodies in three swift strides. When you landed on the other side of them, you spun around and faced the fallen creatures as they whined and spasmed on the ground. Then you lifted your rifle, aimed haphazardly, and pulled the trigger. You swept the barrel from side to side for a moment, energy bolts tearing and searing through flesh, but then you whirled back around and sprinted toward the Mandalorian’s prone form.

He was propped up against the log with his legs splayed out in front of him, and you inhaled sharply when you saw the dark stain of blood on the ground beneath his right thigh. His Amban rifle lay beside him, but since he wasn’t using it, you assumed he was out of ammo. The bounty hunter listed heavily onto what you first thought was a rock of some kind, but as you skidded to a stop in front of him, you realized the lump was the body of another humanoid, except it didn’t look to be breathing.

“Mando!” you gasped as you crouched down in front of him. “Maker, w-what happened—”

“What are you doing here?” he cut you off with a snarl, and the absolute rage in his voice drew you up short.

You gaped at his visor, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “W-What… you called—”

“I didn’t call you, he did, right before they tore out his throat,” Mando growled and shoved the prone form beside him.

The body flopped over with a thud, and you stifled a gag when you realized the poor bastard had been eviscerated. He was torn open from gut to gullet, intestines and innards gleaming wetly in the dark, and his bulging black eyes stared up unseeingly at the moon.

“Dank farrik, Mando,” you breathed in horror. “What happened?”

The Mandalorian tilted his helmet up to look at you, but then his gaze seemed to shift over your shoulder, and he was suddenly latching onto your wrist with an iron grip and tugging you forward.

“Watch out!” he shouted as you tripped over his legs and landed on the other side of him, and a moment later you heard and felt the roar of flames at your back as another beast met a smoldering end.

You scrambled up onto your knees and whirled around, rifle held at the ready, but there were only the two new dead creatures sprawled at Mando’s feet. Their corpses smoked as their blackened flesh crackled, and this time you weren’t successful in stifling your gag. You dry-heaved off to the side, tears blurring your vision, but when the chorus of bone-chilling howls started up again, you blinked away the tears and clenched your rifle in a white-knuckled grip.

“We gotta get out of here,” you panted, your eyes darting from place to place as you tried to track the beasts slithering through the shadows.

“Can’t,” Mando grunted, and all of the sudden, you realized his voice sounded off, slurred.

You whipped back around to face the bounty hunter, and your gaze immediately fell to the dark stain under his leg. It had grown since you’d first seen it, and then you realized a haphazard tourniquet was lashed around the top of his leg, right above the metal plate that covered the front of his thigh.

“You’re hurt,” you breathed. It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah.” Mando’s head jerked up and down in an unsteady nod. “Just… happened. One of them got me… when I was trying to save the bounty. Pretty sure they nicked my femoral.”

His words were softer and definitely slurred now, and panic rose up in your throat like a burning coal.

“Then we need to get back to the Razor Crest now,” you said as you reached for his shoulders, but the Mandalorian sluggishly shoved you away.

“I’ll… only slow you down,” he grunted. “The bounty and I… are easy meals. The pack should stay to finish us off while you make a break for the sh—”

“No,” you cut him off, and the snarl in your voice surprised even you. “No, Mando. I’m not leaving you to die. We’re only a kilometer away from the Razor Crest. I have extra power cells and grenades. We can make it.”

Mando’s head thunked back against the log he leaned on as he stared up at you, and even if you couldn’t see the face underneath the visor, you could see the resignation in every inch of him.

And it ignited a fury in you unlike anything you had ever known.

“So, what?” you growled, bending down to bare your teeth in his face. “You’re just gonna sit here and die? What about the kid? You just gonna abandon him?”

You’re just going to abandon me? you didn’t say, but the words rattled against the backs of your clenched teeth.

“He’ll… have you,” Mando said, and suddenly his gloved hand reached up as if to touch your face, but he didn’t seem to have the strength, and the tip of his index finger barely grazed the edge of your jaw. His touch left behind a warm streak on your skin, and you didn’t have to look to know it was blood.

“That’s not good enough,” you snarled before you stooped down and grabbed the ends of his makeshift tourniquet, yanking tightly on both ends until Mando groaned in pain and latched onto your shoulders.

He murmured your name, his modulator crackling in your ear, but you ignored him as you looped his spent Amban rifle over his shoulder and shifted to slide your left arm behind his back, throwing his right arm over your shoulders. You took two deep breaths to brace yourself, and then you dug your fingers into his waist as you tried to leverage the both of you onto your feet.

It was nearly impossible. The Mandalorian had to weigh nearly ninety kilos in his beskar, and with the added weight of the weapons and grenades you carried, you could feel the muscles in your legs, core, and back scream at the strain.

“Dank… farrik,” you hissed out between clenched teeth, but you managed to get the two of you upright, even if Mando was practically limp against you. Still, you had to leverage your back against the log behind you to keep from collapsing.

“We’ll never make it… back to the ship like this,” Mando panted, his cold helmet brushing against the shell of your ear.

“Shut up,” you gritted out, listening to the howling beasts closing in again like they could sense your weakness. “I refuse to leave you behind. So, unless you want to kill us both, you need to get your ass in gear, Mando. I can keep them off our backs as we go, but you need to walk with me. Understand?”

“Cyare,” he slurred, and the unfamiliar word sounded pained as his helmet thunked into your temple. “I… don’t want you to die.”

“Then walk,” you grunted as you tightened your grip on his waist and lurched forward a step.

Mando staggered behind you, half draped over your back, but you widened your stance and refused to go down.

“Please… Mando,” you panted, shoving the barrel of your rifle into the loamy red soil to act as a crutch. “Help me save us. Just… just put one foot in front of the other.”

“Wait,” the Mandalorian said, and he actually lifted his head off your shoulder. “The bounty…”

“The bounty’s dead,” you grunted as your eyes darted to the trees again. You could see the sinuous shapes of the pack weaving between the towering trunks, but they kept their distance for the moment. They’d lost more than half of their numbers by your estimate, and you prayed to the Maker they would just give up, but you knew that would be way too convenient for your life.

“The puck… said dead or alive,” Mando sighed, his arm weighing down on the nape of your neck like a yoke, and it reminded you of the slave’s collar you once wore.

“I can’t carry both of you back, Mando,” you growled in frustration. “I can barely drag you.”

“Don’t need the whole body,” he clarified. “Just… the head. It’s… a big bounty.”

You groaned as you glanced down at the quarry’s corpse, and then you tilted your head back to try and look at Mando.

“Can you stand by yourself for a minute?” you asked.

“Maybe,” Mando grunted, but he shifted his weight off you bit by bit and leaned up against the tall log at your backs. His boots slid a few inches in the blood-soaked dirt as he almost collapsed, but he dug his gloved fingers into the rigid bark and stood there shaking.

“Didn’t know I was paying you for maybes,” you parroted his words from days ago back at him in an attempt to take his mind off the pain, and it seemed to work because he actually huffed out a strained-sounding chuckle.

“Hurry,” he panted, and you nodded as you quickly stepped away from him, stood over the bounty’s corpse, and shoved the barrel of your rifle between his shoulder and neck.

It was so dark, and you were running on so much adrenaline you couldn’t even be sure of what species the man used to be, but you pushed the thought away as you took a deep breath and held down the trigger.

The rifle screeched as it tore through flesh like a hot knife through butter, and you tried to ignore the feeling of lukewarm blood splattering across your lower legs. Moments later, the jittery, rapid-fire motions of the gun ceased, and the bounty’s head rolled away from the smoldering stump of his neck.

Bile rose up in your throat again, but you swallowed it down as you picked up the decapitated head and started punching buttons on your cuff.

Instantly, you heard the familiar hum of the child’s pod drone closer and closer, and behind you Mando inhaled sharply as the jungle dogs yipped in curiosity from the shadows.

“You brought the kid?” he growled.

“Well, it wasn’t like you left me much kriffing choice, but you can fire me later for child endangerment,” you snapped as the carrier floated down to stop in front of you. Then you turned to the Mandalorian and held out your bloodied hand. “I need your fibercord whip. Eject it.”

Mando didn’t even question you, he just did as he was bid. Within moments, you had the thin but strong wire wound up in your palm, and then you started the gory process of wrapping it securely around the bounty’s bloody head. Your stomach churned at the slick warm goo covering your skin, but you swallowed the saliva pooling in your mouth as you tapped at your wrist again.

The child’s pod opened with a hiss, and you made sure to lower the decapitated head so it was below the carrier and out of the foundling’s line of sight.

“Hey there, bud,” you said as you leaned down and tucked the end of the fibercord into the interior of the pod near the hinges. “Look who I found.”

The foundling cooed and gurgled happily when he caught sight of the Mandalorian, and he lifted his arms and made grabby motions at the bounty hunter.

“Not yet,” you said as you stepped forward and blocked Mando from view. “First, we need to get back to the ship, so I need to close you up again. Don’t worry about anything you hear, though, okay? I promise we’ll be fine.”

The child murmured a soft sound as you bent down and kissed his wrinkled brow, but then you tapped at your wrist, and the pod closed with another hiss, locking the wire with the dangling head in place. You keyed in a few more commands, and the carrier rose up high above you, hovering at least six meters off the ground. Blood dripped from the severed stump of the quarry’s neck as it dangled from the pod, and you flinched when a speck of it landed on your cheek. It might be disgusting, but this way, the child and the remainder of the bounty would hopefully be out of reach of any of the beasts, and you could focus all your energy on getting you and Mando back to the Razor Crest.

“Alright.” You tore your gaze away from the silver pod and shifted your grasp on the rifle, wedging the stock against your right shoulder as tight as you could. You knew your aim would be abysmal since you were going have to shoot one handed while dragging Mando, but you hoped the full-auto setting would grant you some leeway. “Let’s go.”

“You really should—” the Mandalorian started, but you clicked your tongue to cut him off.

“That wasn’t a request,” you said as you sidled up against the bounty hunter and double checked that his tourniquet was secure.

“Fine.” He reluctantly draped his right arm over your shoulder, and you wrapped your left one around his waist. Then the two of you pushed off the log at your backs, and you staggered forward several steps, trying not to trip on any dead jungle dogs.

Mando’s cold beskar felt like it was burning you wherever it brushed against your bare, hot flesh, and he groaned in your ear as he practically dragged his injured leg behind him. The agony of his voice made you want to stop and sprint forward all at the same time, but you settled for stumbling several more steps.

“That’s it,” you panted in encouragement. “One step at a time.”

The pack howled and shrieked as you painstakingly shuffled your way across the clearing, but you haphazardly aimed your rifle into the jungle and held down the trigger. Rapid-fire bolts of energy careened into the darkness, illuminating white eyes and flashes of twining vines and snarling beasts, but several yowls echoed through the night, so you knew you’d hit at least some of them.

“Mando,” you gritted out as you neared the tree line. “I need you to hit my cuff. There’s a button on the side that will turn up my headlamp. I want it at maximum. Since these bastards are nocturnal, I’m guessing they don’t like the light.”

The Mandalorian grunted something that sounded like an affirmative, and then his left hand was swatting blindly at your cuff. After fumbling for a moment, his thick, gloved fingers encircled your wrist, his thumb brushing faintly over your thudding pulse point.

Your feet nearly tangled beneath you, but then Mando found the button on your cuff, and he pressed on it until the lights at your temple were bright enough to blind. The beams of white light cut through the oppressive darkness of the jungle, and the canine creatures yelped in pain as they darted back into the shadows. You swung your gaze back and forth, your lamp dragging over the scenery like a burning laser, and the beasts whimpered as their tails disappeared into the bushes.

“Come on,” you groaned as you dragged Mando forward, and the two of you finally stumbled into the thick of the trees.

You didn’t know how much time passed as you and the Mandalorian struggled back to the ship. Seconds seemed like minutes, minutes hours. The moon appeared frozen in the sky above your head, and more than once you had the thought that you were already dead, and this was some messed up version of an afterlife where you were tortured for eternity.

In the end, though, you knew you were alive.

If you weren’t, it wouldn’t hurt so much.

“Left,” Mando slurred in your ear, half draped over your back, and your feet stuttered as you swung both of you around to the left.

The rifle screeched as it fired off into the darkness, followed by the yelps of dying dogs, and you hissed as the stock dug into your already sore shoulder. The pack snarled and gurgled as they encircled you, but they were hesitant now that you’d killed a majority of them. You wondered why they just didn’t give up, but you realized they could most likely sense you weakening, slowing.

Sweat ran in rivers down your face and spine, and every tendon in your body felt like it was on the edge of snapping. You could tell Mando was trying to take some of his weight off you, but he was becoming more and more unsteady with each step, his breath jagged and uneven as it rasped out of his helmet. He probably wouldn’t remain conscious for much longer, and if he passed out before you reached the ship, you were both dead. You couldn’t fully carry him, and you would not even entertain the idea of leaving him, so it was all or nothing.

Either you both reached the ship together, or neither of you did.

But, as you glanced up at the child’s pod hovering high over your head, you knew the second choice wasn’t really an option. The kid needed you. Needed both of you.

So, you were going to kriffing live, even if you had to break your body down to achieve your goal.

“Come on,” you encouraged as you stumbled over a tree root. “Come on, Mando. We’re almost there. Stay with me, okay?”

You had no idea if you were almost there or not. The homing beacon on your cuff was beeping steadily, but with all the howling, and the blood pounding through your ears, you couldn’t approximate how close you were to the Razor Crest.

“I’m… trying,” Mando mumbled, lifting his head just slightly. “B-Behind us.”

You cursed under your breath, letting the rifle dangle against your chest as you fumbled at your waist. Your fingers curled around a cold, metal orb, and you clicked the button in its center before you lobbed the grenade over your shoulder with all the strength you had left, which wasn’t much.

Then you staggered forward a little faster, dragging the bounty hunter behind you, and five seconds later, you heard the stun grenade go off, followed by the crackling of static and the yelping of beasts.

“That’s my last… stun grenade,” you panted, and the hair on your arms stood on end with all the electricity in the moist air. “I have some explosive ones… but…”

“But we’re not fast enough to get out of range in time,” Mando finished for you, his helmet bumping into the crown of your head as he sagged a little more.

“Yeah,” you huffed, but then a crunch to your right had you whirling and firing in one motion.

The canine yipped and screeched as the energy bolts tore through its chest mid-lunge, and it crashed into the ground at your feet as you staggered into a tree. The bark scraped painfully across your bare shoulder blades, and Mando groaned as you almost lost your grip on him.

“No,” you growled, tightening your arm around the bounty hunter and tugging you both upright. “Dank… farrik!”

The muscles in your arm burned hotly from the strain of keeping the Mandalorian on his feet, and you bit through your tongue to keep from crying out, the metallic taste of blood coating your teeth and whetting your parched mouth.

You stumbled forward blindly as you tried to work through the pain, but all the sudden, the claustrophobic darkness caused by the towering trees lessened a few degrees. You thought you were hallucinating it at first, but then you lifted your head a fraction and realized the trees were thinning out ahead of you.

And the beacon in your cuff was beeping like mad.

You were almost there. The Razor Crest was so close.

Of course, that’s when the snarling behind you reached new frantic heights, and you knew the pack was gearing up for one final assault.

“Mando, listen to me,” you gasped as you shifted to shove him against a tree, using your palm to keep him rooted at the sternum and on his feet.

He groaned as he listed there, mumbling something that didn’t sound like it was in Basic, but he remained upright, so you seized the opportunity to jab at the screen on your wrist. A moment later, the child’s pod swooped down from where it had been hovering near the canopy, and the bounty’s head dragged against the jungle floor with a dull crunch. You tweaked the carrier’s settings half blind, one eye on the encroaching darkness and the beasts therein, and then you grabbed the floating orb and shoved it against Mando’s gut.

“Ugh,” the bounty hunter grunted, his feet starting to slide out from under him.

“No, lean forward,” you rushed out, grabbing one of his shoulders and tugging him toward you.

Mando moaned as he collapsed onto the child’s pod, but since you’d cranked up the carrier’s power output to the max, the bounty hunter didn’t crash to the ground. Instead, he hung there half suspended, the pod whirling angrily from his added weight, his feet limp and dragging behind him.

“Mando,” you said as you tapped the side of his helmet, eyes still on the shadowy trees. “Mando, I need you to hold onto that pod as tight as you can, okay? Can you hear me?”

“Hear… you,” the Mandalorian just barely breathed, and you saw his arms wrap around the bottom of the silver carrier.

“Hold on like your life depends on it,” you instructed as you tapped at your wrist again. “Because it does.”

“What—” he started to ask, but he didn’t get to finish the question because the pod was suddenly surging forward, in the direction of the ship. The bounty’s head and Mando’s feet dragged loudly against the ground, but with one last jolt of power, the pod lifted away from the jungle floor and began to float away.

The pod would probably have just enough power to get Mando back to the ship before it died, but that was fine. That was just what you needed.

The jungle dogs howled and shrieked as they watched the Mandalorian drifting away through the trees, but as you listened to them start to skirt around you in his direction, you finally gripped the rifle with two hands and aimed into the dark.

Then you pulled the trigger, full-auto, and the shrieking of the energy bolts collided with the screeching of the canines and crescendoed into a deafening cacophony. You sprayed the jungle in wide sweeps as you slowly started to walk backward toward the Razor Crest, the rifle stock jolting into your shoulder in time with your racing heart. You just needed to give Mando time to reach the ship. You had programmed the pod to open the ramp at a certain distance, so they would just fly on into the cargo bay, and it would close behind them. Once they were safe, you could make a break for it and—

Suddenly, one of the shadows broke away from the trunk directly to your right, and you turned too late to see it was a slavering beast, its bifurcated jaw wide open and aimed for your throat.

“Ahh!” You stumbled back, trying to crane away from those jagged black fangs, but your feet got tangled up beneath you, and you came crashing down. A root slammed into one of your rear ribs so hard you heard and felt the snap as the bone gave, but you didn’t even have time to register that pain before the jungle dog smashed into your chest.

You instinctively shoved your arms outward, wedging the rifle between those deadly, snapping jaws. One of the beast’s jagged fangs scraped down your forearm as you tried to keep the bastard from swallowing you whole, and you screamed in fury and pain as blood spilled from your rending flesh.

Then you brought your knee up and smashed it as hard as you could into the jungle dog’s ribcage, and this time you felt its rib snap, and grim satisfaction burned like a wildfire through your blood. The warmth filled your limbs until you thought you would burst into flame, and you kicked the beast again and again as it yipped.

You were just starting to think you had the upper hand when the creature’s jaw started to close with a creaking sound of bone on metal, and your eyes widened in horror as the canine jerked its head back, taking your rifle with it. Then its bifurcated jaw snapped close with a horrible crunch, and the rifle shattered into shards of metal and sparks.

The beast roared in pain and rage as it tossed the remains of your rifle aside, but now you were acting on pure survival instinct, not thought, not logic, and you were already wrenching two grenades and a vibroknife off your belt when the nightmare dog finally settled its four milky white eyes on your face.

“Eat this, you bastard,” you snarled as its terrible jaws, rowed with serrated teeth, descended on you.

Then with one hand you stabbed the vibroknife into its neck just above the shoulder, and with the other you activated the grenades and shoved both of them down the jungle dog’s throat.

Warm blood sprayed down on you like humid rainfall, and you twisted the blade in to the hilt, feeling as it tore through flesh in a jittery fashion. The creature gagged and gurgled as its throat muscles convulsed around your other wrist for just an instant, but then you yanked your arms back with all your might, teeth catching on your elbow again, before you crashed into the dirt.

You were scrambling up in the next instant, barely listening to the creature heaving and choking behind you as you staggered forward into a clumsy sprint.

The rest of the pack howled at your back, but you were flat out running now, and you could see the Razor Crest through the trees. The pounding of paws on dirt sounded at your heels, and you couldn’t tell if you were gasping for breath or sobbing as you tore the final grenades off your belt, activated them, and let them fall through your numb fingers.

In the next instant, you broke through the tree line, and you could see the ramp of the Razor Crest, closing. You slapped at your wrist blindly as you sprinted as fast as you could, lungs heaving to the point of seizures, legs at the point of collapse. You didn’t know if the dogs were still right behind you, but the grenades…

You must have finally hit the right command because the ramp suddenly shuddered before it started to lower again, and you were ten meters away when the grenades went off like dominoes falling.

The first two explosions—of the grenades you shoved into the jungle dog—only shook the ground hard enough to make you stumble forward, but then the rest of them detonated much closer, and the combined shockwave hit you moments later and catapulted you into the air.

Thankfully, the ramp was just low enough that you scraped over it and crashed into the ship, smashing into a bulkhead with a dull crunch. The howling shrieks of dying dogs reached you through the ringing in your ears, and you felt a wave of heat hit you as the grenades engulfed the jungle trees. You curled into a ball on the cargo bay floor, your back to the ramp, and you just barely had the presence of mind to tap at your wrist one last time. A moment later, you heard the whirling of the ramp closing, and when it clanked shut a moment later, you rolled over onto your back and stared blindly above you.

You could just barely hear the roar of the building wildfire outside the ship, and the screeching of the jungle dogs died down within seconds. Your entire body—your lungs, your heart—heaved up and down as adrenaline pulsed through you like a bad hit of spice, and your ears ached in the relative silence.

Then the child cooed, and Mando groaned weakly, and you jolted upright like you had just been struck by lightning.

“Mando,” you rasped, flipping over onto your raw hands and bruised knees.

The bounty hunter half-sat, half-sprawled on the floor at the foot of his bunk. The foundling’s pod lay askew on the ground in front of the fresher like it had crash landed there when it finally died, but the child stood unharmed beside the Mandalorian.

Who was currently bleeding out on the floor of the cargo bay.

“Kriff!” You scrambled forward when you saw the spreading stain of blood below his leg, and as you drew closer, you realized his tourniquet must have been loosened when he collapsed.        

The Mandalorian barely even seemed conscious at this point. His chest stirred only slightly beneath his beskar chest plate, and if it weren’t for the soft groans he was exhaling, you would have thought him dead.

“Mando!” you shouted as you shakily rose onto your feet and staggered the rest of the way to the fresher. Your hands were shaking as you tore one of the storage compartments open in search of a med kit, and your voice cracked when you said his name again. “Mando! Stay with me. We made it back. We’re on the ship. Just stay with me for a few more moments. Please.”

You crashed down onto your knees beside the bounty hunter, tearing the med kit open with bloody hands and broken nails. His helmeted head lolled onto the edge of the bunk behind him, and you could barely hear his raspy breaths through the modulator.

The child stood between Mando’s splayed boots, eyes large and frightened, but you couldn’t pay him any mind right now. Your frantic gaze darted between the bacta gel patch in your hand and Mando’s bleeding leg, and even though it felt crazy, you set the patch down for a moment and reached for the last vibroknife on your belt.

Suddenly, Mando jerked awake with a gasp, and you reached out without thinking, pressing your left palm over his heart and feeling his faint, fluttering pulse.

“Mando, I’m right here,” you murmured soothingly. “Keep breathing for me.”

The Mandalorian muttered your name as his head lolled toward you.

“Yes, that’s me, I’m here,” you said, rising up on your knees and leaning over him. The vibroknife glimmered in your hand, looking like a real-life glitch, but you shook off the unsettling feeling and fixed your eyes on Mando’s visor.

“Mesh’la,” the Mandalorian slurred. The word was soft and elongated to the point of sounding like gibberish, but his hand settled firmly on the wrist you still had pressed to his heart, like he was talking directly to you.

In any other situation, your own heart would be fluttering with a feeling you didn’t want to name, but as the bounty hunter’s blood started to soak into the knees of your pants, all you could feel was dread.

“I need you to stay still, okay?” you said as you dropped your hand from his chest to grip the top of his injured thigh. “I need to cut your pants away from the wound.”

“O… kay,” he muttered, and his hand fell to settle over yours again on his leg like he was grounding himself by touching you.

“Nice and easy,” you cooed, trying to blink the tears out of your eyes so you could see to cut through his pants and not his flesh. “I’ll have that bacta patch on in just a moment. Why don’t you talk to me, huh? Mando, talk to me. Tell me something. J-Just stay awake.”

“Aw…ake,” he whispered, but it sounded like he was just repeating you now, barely clinging to consciousness.

Your hand shook as you slowly sawed through the blood-soaked fabric, and an aborted sob rose in your throat. But you shoved your hysteria down, down, down, you had no time for it, you had to stay level-headed, steady-handed, Mando was counting on you, Mando was dying.

“Mando,” you choked as you finally pulled the cloth away from his wound. Three parallel gashes, each nearly five centimeters deep, ran from his hip crease and nearly all the way to his knee, and blood pulsed sluggishly from the wounds in crimson gobs. “Oh, Maker, Mando.”

You dropped the vibroknife with a loud clang as you lunged for the bacta patch, and out of your peripherals you could see the child waddling closer, standing in between the Mandalorian’s knees, the hem of his little robe slowly staining scarlet. You didn’t have the heart or the strength to shove the child away now, so instead you focused on settling the bacta patch over the bounty hunter’s grisly injuries.

Mando twitched and inhaled sharply as the bacta adhered to his skin, and you sent up a million prayers to the Maker that you had administered aid in time.

“There y-you go,” you sniffled, unable to stop the tears from coursing down your cheeks now. “I got the patch on, Mando. You’re going t-to be okay. You… you have to be okay. Do you hear me, Mando?”

You felt like a glitching holotape repeating his name over and over, but you couldn’t stop yourself. You wanted, no needed, him to stay awake, and every time you said his name, he seemed to jerk a little, like he’d been recalled from a long distance at the sound of your voice.

For a moment, there was only the faint, raspy wheeze of the Mandalorian’s breath through his helmet, but then he suddenly mumbled something.

“What?” You shuffled closer, slipping in blood. You practically had your ear pressed against his visor. “What was that, Mando? Say it again. Come on, talk to me, Mando.”

“Not… Mando.”

The words were stilted, sluggish, and you frowned in confusion. “Huh? I-I don’t understand.”

“My… name isn’t… Mando,” the bounty hunter struggled out, and his helmet tilted forward a fraction like he had lifted his head and was looking right at you. “It’s… Din. Din Djarin.”

The shock you felt was muted, distant and removed, like a crack that formed deep in the heart of a glacier, buried beneath the adrenaline, horror, and helplessness warring within you.

“Din,” you breathed, and the word somehow tasted like the exact moment Peli dug out your transmitter chip. It tasted like freedom, like infinite possibility, and you didn’t understand why.

Mando—no, Din, Din Djarin—exhaled heavily as his head thunked back against the bunk, and even if you couldn’t see it, you could tell his eyes were slipping closed. “I… wanted at least someone to know before I—”

“No,” you cut him off vehemently, reaching out to cradle the sides of his helmet like you were cupping his face. “No, you’re not going to die. Not now. Not when… no, do you hear me, Din Djarin? I will not allow you to die. Not when I worked my ass off to fix this ship and drag you back onto it by the skin of my kriffing teeth.”

“Mmmm.” Din’s head lolled in your grasp, the weight of him growing heavier and heavier. “I knew I would like the way… you say my name.”

Oh, Maker. He was nonsensical now, and terror gripped you by the throat and squeezed.

“Then stay awake, Din,” you begged, and your heart felt like it was on the edge of a great precipice. “Stay awake for me.”

“’m so… tired,” he sighed.

“I know,” you breathed as you guided his head back to rest against the bunk, and you couldn’t speak above a whisper because your voice was thick with tears. “I know, but just listen to my voice, Din. Just—”

You trailed off as the child suddenly waddled into your line of sight, and you dropped your gaze slightly to find him standing between the Mandalorian’s thighs, right next to the bacta covered wounds. The foundling stared up at the bounty hunter with a furrowed, seemingly determined expression, and then he closed his big brown eyes as he reached for Din’s leg.

“Oh, buddy, don’t,” you started, reaching out to stop him, but Din—Maker, his name felt delicious and forbidden even in your mind—weakly placed his hand on your wrist to stop you.

“It’s… okay,” he panted. “He can help.”

“Help?” You frowned down at the child. How could he help? Was this one of the “powers” the bounty hunter had vaguely mentioned before? You thought the foundling’s ability dealt with physically moving things, not healing, but honestly you could do for a miracle right about now.

The child gurgled a small noise as his three fingers settled over Din’s wound, and the Mandalorian inhaled sharply at the same time that you felt… something. You weren’t sure what it was, but it was like the very air shifted, became magnetic, charged somehow. The air stilled in your lungs as you feared even the barest breath would fracture this fragile spell you were bearing witness to, and you watched with wide eyes as the gashes on the bounty hunter’s legs began to close right in front of you.

Bacta worked fast… but not that fast.

Several still, endless seconds passed as the foundling healed the Mandalorian, but then just as soon as it began, the moment ended. The atmosphere snapped almost tangibly, time jolted back into motion, and the child suddenly started to pitch backward.

“Oh!” you gasped as you lunged forward, your hands cupping the baby and bringing him close to your body. The foundling’s eyes were closed, his face slack, but his little chest still moved up and down with breath.

“He’s okay.”

You snapped your head up, more tears spilling down your cheeks with the motion.

Din was sitting up a little straighter, and his helmet looked squarely at you. His voice sounded stronger, too, and you gaped at him in bewilderment.

“He’s okay,” the Mandalorian repeated when you continued to blink at him. “He usually… tires himself out when he uses his powers.”

“I d-didn’t know he could do that,” you breathed, and your tongue felt like a disembodied lump of flesh in your mouth. “I… wait, how do you feel? A-Are you okay?”

You suddenly realized how close you still were to the bounty hunter, practically kneeling in his lap, but you ignored this as your eyes darted back to his leg. It was a little hard to tell through the dried blood and blue bacta, but it looked like the three gashes had closed altogether, leaving behind faint pink lines.

“I’ll survive,” the bounty hunter sighed, thunking his head back against the bunk again, but he tilted it to the side to regard you still. “Thanks to you.”

“I-I’m not the one who just healed you with magic,” you stuttered incredulously as your cheeks flared hot, and you cuddled the child against your chest even though you realized you knew almost nothing about the apparently powerful foundling.

“No,” Mando said evenly, “but you did charge out into a dark, unknown, dangerous jungle, fight off a pack of wild dogs, and drag both me and the bounty back safely.”

“Well,” you snorted with an edge of hysteria in your voice, and you gestured to the discarded head that lay sprawled against the corner of the fresher. “I don’t know if I’d say he got here safely.”

Maker, you felt a little crazy, hollowed out and wrung dry by the sheer amount of emotions you’d just experienced in a span of a few minutes.

“I’m serious,” the Mandalorian replied. “You… saved my life. I am in your debt.”

“I-I’m not one for debts.” You shook your head to try and clear it, dropping your gaze to the foundling’s face, nuzzled against your sternum. “I don’t like to owe anyone or be owed. You’ve stuck your neck out for me before, so let’s just call it even… Din.”

You saw the bounty hunter freeze out of the corner of your eye, and you bit your cheek until you tasted blood.

You should have known that was too much to ask for.

“Sorry,” you muttered, peeking up at the Mandalorian through your lashes. “You… mentioned your name when you were—”

“I remember,” Mando said, cutting you off, but you couldn’t tell what he was thinking, his expression hidden as always and his voice pitched in a way you didn’t recognize, couldn’t identify.

“Right.” You cleared your throat, feeling the adrenaline starting to drain out of you and be replaced by every ache and pain you had ignored in lieu of survival. “Of course, I can just forget about it. You weren’t exactly in your right mind, after all. I’ll just… using ‘Mando’ is fine for me.”

The Mandalorian’s visor stared you down unflinchingly for what felt like an eternity. Then…

“You can… use my name, if you like,” he said haltingly, then quickly amended himself. “But only when we’re alone, on the ship. I… my name could be a dangerous thing in the hands of my enemies.”

You blinked in shock at the bounty hunter.

“A-Are you sure?” you asked, and you tried to keep the hope out of your voice, but you knew you failed miserably. “O-Only if you’re sure. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You’d thought giving up his name had just been a delusional, dying declaration, and you didn’t want him to regret it. What you said had been true enough. You were fine using “Mando,” even if the traitorous feelings buried deep in your chest said otherwise.

“I’m sure.” The bounty hunter nodded minutely. “I… trust you.”

The admission flooded your whole body with warmth, and goosebumps broke out across your skin. You’d known the Mandalorian trusted you, he wouldn’t have left his ship or his foundling in your care otherwise, but hearing him say the words felt like something out of a dream.

“Okay, then.” You smiled, heart thudding against where the child was pressed into your chest. “Din.”

At the sound of his name, the tension in the Mandalorian’s worn body seemed to bleed out of him entirely, and he sighed as his helmet fell back again.

“Let’s get off this Maker-forsaken planet,” he grumbled.

“I second that,” you chuckled dryly before you slowly clambered to your feet, careful not to slip in Din’s tacky blood or jostle the sleeping baby in your arms. You very gingerly leaned over the prone Mandalorian to set the foundling in his hammock, but you hissed when the movement jarred the bruised or fractured rib in your back.

“What’s wrong?” Din asked below you, and he was so close you could feel the rumble of his modulated voice against the bare skin of your stomach, your tank top having lifted up a fraction.

“Nothing.” You took a quick step backward, trying to put distance between you and the bounty hunter, but now that he was no longer actively dying, you were starting to realize you were a little more beat up then you’d previously thought.

The moment you stepped back on your right leg, your hamstring seized up, and when you went to grab at it, you realized your fingers were a little numb. You glanced down and saw fresh blood dripping down your forearm—your blood, not Mando’s—and the sight of the wound seemed to flip a switch in your brain because a moment later, pain crashed over you like a wave.

“Dank farrik,” Mando cursed lowly as he tried to shove himself up.

“No, no, no, no,” you babbled, holding out your less injured left hand in a gesture to stop him. “Don’t get up so fast.”

“You’re hurt,” he grunted, and you could practically hear the scowl in his voice as he tilted his helmet back to stare at you. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine,” you stressed, even though you could still taste blood on the back of your tongue. “Also, you seriously have no room to talk. You were literally just bleeding out less than five minutes ago.”

“How much bacta do we have left?” he asked, completely ignoring your statement. “We should take care of your injuries before they get any worse.”

“Maker, you’re not even listening to me, are you?” You rolled your eyes as you leaned your shoulder against the bulkhead, but when the Mandalorian started to get up again, you held your hand out once more. “Alright! Alright. Let me at least set the coordinates to meet up with the client and get the ship in the air. I’m pretty sure the jungle is burning down around us as we speak anyway, so the sooner we lift off, the better.”

Din stared up at you silently for a moment like he wanted to argue.

“It will take me two minutes, max,” you reasoned with him. “I won’t pass out or die in that time frame, okay?”

“Fine,” he finally sighed and dropped his chin to his chest. “Just… be careful climbing up there.”

“I’ll try my best,” you snorted, wincing when pain flared through your body, but you still slowly made your way to the ladder.

It took you way longer to climb five rungs than it should have, but you thought not falling back into the cargo bay was a feat in itself, given how every muscle in your arms and legs twitched in pain. The blood pouring down your arm also did nothing to help your grip, nor did your scraped up palms, but you still made it into the cockpit relatively unscathed.

Dawn was just breaking beyond the windows, but you could barely see it through the black smoke that hung thick in the air. Guilt sat heavy in your chest as you saw the charred trees and the birds fleeing the flames overhead, but you told yourself you did what you had to in order to survive.

And it wasn’t like you were walking away scot-free, either. Your arm pounded painfully in time with your slowing pulse, and every time you took a deep breath, you became a little surer that the rib in your back was, in fact, broken.

You punched in the client’s rendezvous coordinates without sitting in the pilot’s chair since you knew if you sat down now there was no way you were getting back up. While you waited for the Razor Crest to power up, you cringed at the blood you were dripping all over the floor, but there was nothing for it at this point. The whole ship would need a thorough scrub down the next time you made a pit stop, but that was a future-you problem. Right now, you were mainly focused on getting off this planetoid and out into orbit without crashing and burning.

You held your breath as the pre-Empire ship rose up above the now smoldering jungle, but no warning alarms or messages sounded. The Razor Crest glided steadily upward, and you leaned heavily on the control panel as you breeched first the clouds and then the atmosphere. Entering orbit rattled the ship and you more than you cared for, but nothing broke off or burst into flame, and before you knew it, you were drifting through the familiar black void of space.

“Thank the kriffing Maker,” you sighed as the autopilot took over, and then you turned and shuffled back to the ladder, exhaustion starting to make the edges of your vision go fuzzy.

Or maybe that was blood loss?

You were a little less graceful with the descent than you were with the ascent, but you at least landed on your feet before you nearly collapsed into the fresher.

“Careful,” Mando’s modulated voice murmured, and suddenly his bare hand was on your left, uninjured elbow, skin against warm skin.

“What are… you doing up?” You frowned as you studied the Mandalorian, trying to make sense of what you were seeing as he led you to sit in the open mouth of his bunk.

“I told you,” he said, reaching over and grabbing another med kit from the fresher. “We need to take care of your injuries before they get any worse.”

“You should be resting,” you grumbled, but you were too tired to put any real heat behind your voice.

“I’m fine,” Din parroted your earlier proclamation back at you. “The kid did a thorough job.”

Then the bounty hunter sat on a crate before you, a crate that hadn’t been there before, and you realized he was no longer wearing a majority of his beskar, save the ever-present helmet, of course. Instead, a faded but clean pair of duraweave clothes covered his body, and the bloodied outfit you’d basically sliced off him was piled up between his feet. It also looked like he had haphazardly tried to mop up some of his blood with the dirty clothes, and you wondered if you’d been up in the cockpit longer than you thought.

“Hey,” you chuckled suddenly, and you distantly noted that your voice was a little slurred with exhaustion. “Looks like I’ll have some new rags after all.”

You giggled a little loopily as you gestured to the Mandalorian’s blood-soaked clothes and then to the blood and dirt your outfit was also currently coated in, but Mando didn’t seem as amused as you were.

“Let me see your arm,” he said as his helmet stared at you impassively, but then he paused and added, “Please.”

“It’s really not that bad,” you tried to argue as you held out your injured limb, but since it was still actively dripping blood, your words didn’t carry much weight. Then the bounty hunter gingerly gripped your wrist with tentative fingers, and you hissed through your teeth as pain lanced up your arm.

“Osik,” Din cursed in a language you didn’t recognize, slowly rotating your arm to take in the extent of the damage. “Did one of those dogs get you? The bastard almost flayed you to the bone in some spots.”

“Yeah, well I shoved two grenades down his throat, so I think we’re even,” you gritted out.

Din froze and lifted his head, your blood, sweat, and dirt-streaked face reflecting back at you from his visor. “You what?” 

He must have really been on death’s door if he didn’t notice or remember you literally blowing the jungle dogs to Tatooine and back, but you just shook your head.

“Story time later,” you huffed, narrowing your eyes as you tried to breathe through the pain. “Bacta time now, please.”

“Right.” Mando jerked back into action, and in the next moment he was shifting into medic-droid mode.

Few words were shared between you two as the Mandalorian tended to your bumps and scrapes. Beside the deep lacerations on your forearm, your palms and knees were scraped bloody from tripping your way through a dangerous jungle in the dead of night. Your upper back was in the same condition since you’d been wearing a tank top when you decided to grapple with blood-thirsty hounds, and when Din accidentally brushed against your lower back, a small whimper squeezed out between your clenched teeth.

“This rib is probably broken,” the bounty hunter said, and there was a heavy quality to his quiet voice.

“Thought as much,” you grunted, trying to sit up straight without breathing too deeply. “Too bad we don’t have a full bacta tank to soak in.”

“I could always… drop you back off on Tatooine,” Mando muttered. “With the payment that I owe you, of course. Should be enough to pay for a full treatment and then some.”

You froze sitting there in the doorway of his bunk. The Mandalorian wasn’t looking at you, too busy double checking the bandage he’d wrapped over the bacta on your forearm, but you could see how rigid his body was as he awaited your answer.

“Do you… want to drop me back off on Tatooine?” you asked hesitantly, the breath shallow in your lungs. You could hear the child snoring softly in the hammock directly behind your head, and the thought of leaving him opened a dark pit inside you.

And that was nothing to say of the thought of leaving the Mandalorian. Of leaving… Din.

Now that you knew his name, the feelings you had done your best to ignore came surging up to the surface, that little voice whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

He told you his name. He trusts you. He wants you here. Maybe he wants you for more than just your skills.

You shoved the thoughts away as quickly as they cropped up, but that didn’t stop something small and fragile from unfurling in your chest. You almost wanted to call it hope.

“I—” Mando started, stopped, fidgeted on his crate, and then sighed as he scooted back a little to stretch out his injured leg. “No, I don’t want to do that. You’re a talented mechanic and… good company. I’ve… enjoyed having you on my crew.”

“Oh.” You blushed as the breath whooshed out of your lungs, leaving you feeling lightheaded and buoyant. “T-Thank you. Current circumstances notwithstanding, I’ve enjoyed being on your crew, too. A-And not just for the payment. Seeing new worlds, as dangerous as they are, was something I never thought I’d get to experience. So, even if the price to pay is a few bumps and scrapes, I think that’s a fair deal.”

“You have a skewed idea of ‘fair,’” the Mandalorian chuckled dryly as he reached down beside him, picked up a pair of his gloves, and slipped them back on.

“No kriff,” you snorted, the scar on the nape of your neck tingling. “But it works out in your favor, so I wouldn’t question it too much.”

“Fine.” Din held up his hands, but then he lowered them to his knees and cocked his head at you.

“What?” you asked when he didn’t say anything for a full minute. His gaze made your skin prickle even if you couldn’t see his eyes, and with each passing moment, you grew acutely more and more aware of how dirty and disheveled you looked and felt.

“Nothing,” he said, fingers flexing against his knees. “Just… thank you. Again. For saving me, the kid, the bounty, and the ship.” 

You fidgeted in discomfort. You didn’t know what to do with praise and compliments, having never really received them before, so you shrugged your shoulders as you picked at the bandage on your arm.

“I told you, we’re even,” you muttered.

“It doesn’t feel that way to me,” he argued, and something about his tone told you he wasn’t going to let this go. “So, how about this: after we drop off this bounty with the client, you can pick the next planet we stop on.”

“Really?” Your eyes flicked up to the bounty hunter and widened. He’d never let you pick a destination before. You’d always just been along for the ride.

Mando nodded. “And make a list of parts and stuff you need to keep the ship running. We’ll stock up wherever we stop off next.”

“Okay.” You grinned as your heart did a little jig in your chest, and you stuck out your bacta-wrapped hand to shake on it. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Din Djarin.”

His name rolled off your tongue like a grain of sand spiraling down a dune, picking up momentum as it went, and it sent a shiver of pleasure straight down your spine. You knew you were playing a losing game with your own heart here, but as you stared into Mando’s visor, you also knew there was no stopping yourself now. You would just have to deal with the future heartbreak.  

The Mandalorian tentatively reached out and grasped your fingers in his gloved ones.

“Deal,” he rumbled back.

“Good.” You nodded as a yawn cracked open your jaw, and you reached up to cover your gaping mouth and scratch your nose. “Now, given the client’s rendezvous coordinates, we should have a few days of rest before we reach our destination, and if you don’t mind, I think I’m going to start right now by taking a well-deserved nap.”

You made to stand up, but Din gently placed his hand on your shoulder to keep you seated on the edge of the bunk.

“Take the cot,” he said as he nodded behind you. “I’m going up to the cockpit to send a message to the client anyway.”

“Are you sure?” you murmured around another yawn.

“I’m sure,” he said, but then his gloved fingers were suddenly ghosting over the bridge of your nose. “By the way, you’ve got a little grease right here. Just thought you should know.”

You went cross-eyed as you tried to draw his finger into focus, but when he stepped back, you noticed the fingertips of his glove were shiny, and glancing down at the hand you used to shake his revealed that your palm bore the same black sheen.

“Hey, this is your grease,” you muttered indignantly, but then Din was pressing gently on your shoulder, guiding you to lay back on the cot, and you went willingly.

“Get some rest,” he said, turning off the bunk lights. “We’ll worry about cleaning up later.”

You tried to grumble something, but exhaustion was starting to tug at your limbs and eyelids, and your body unwound bit by bit as you buried your face in the bounty hunter’s pillow with no remorse.

A moment later, Mando’s boots were clomping up the ladder to the cockpit, but he left some of the cargo bay lights on and the door to the bunk open, like he somehow knew you were afraid of the dark.

The beginnings of a smile tugged at your lips, but you spiraled into sleep before you could fully process the thought.

[ostrichlady]

THOUGHTS AND RAMBLES ABOUT SNK CHAPTER 139 (SPOILERS!!)

Rating of this chapter: Lukewarm tea.

And everyone knows lukewarm tea tastes bad.

I do think the best way to deal with this chapter is to not overanalyze it. Read it once, call it quits and move on. I did that and felt great the next day. But because I spent too many years of my life in this story, of course the thoughts came back and there are a few things I need to say before leaving this story behind.

I never wanted a happy or tragic ending. I never wanted for everything to be solved neither for everything to end on a depressing note. The only thing I ever asked for was that the finale was fair and made sense.

But unfortunately, what happened was the exact opposite.

Everything that happened after the 3 years time skip was a big whatever and the only thing that comforts me is that Armin is alive, and Historia seems happy with her child. 

I still don’t understand why Reiner and Annie were so easily accepted. I mean, at least Reiner showed huge amounts of regret and we saw how he dealt with the trauma that everything caused to him (although now he's back to being a creep for Historia? Ew). But Annie? She herself admitted she would do the same shit all over again no problem, and why was she tearing after talking to Eren in the PATHS? Didn’t she say a few chapters ago that if they had to kill him, she wouldn’t hesitate and was almost judging Mikasa and Armin for not thinking the same way? Excuse me Annie, but what made you so emotional all of the sudden? 

Then we learn that the world is still a very dangerous place for Eldians and Paradis; the yeagerists are in charge of the military force and will swoop the alliance’s ass very easily if they find them chilling outside. And my question is: killing 80%of the population lead to this? Really? At any moment, Eldians can be exterminated, this is even worst than before!? They don’t have proper military training, the world still doesn’t like them and the alliance ambassadors or whatever are not very liked either sooo...I truly don’t understand the point of this. Now, don’t get me wrong: I never liked the Rumbling plan because as Hange said, "There's never a good enough reason for committing genocide", and I also always believed the Rumbling would make everyone else hate Eldians even more. But if 80% of people had to have their lives taken, at least don’t let it go to waste!?

Anyways, going back to when they’re still at war.

So Eren went around everyone’s mind and now everyone cries for him. A little late, but sure.

Everyone who was transformed into a titan is back, making the previous chapter be even more useless. Imagine reading the volume, get some shock value with Jean, Connie and everyone else becoming titans just to turn the page and they are back. I mean, I thought it was really unfair Jean died (and I hope he’s not arranging his hair for when they meet Mikasa) but having him and everyone else coming back like this is just....dumb? 

The fact we had Eren’s intentions explained this way makes the whole situation even messier. From his conversation with Armin to the road trip he did through people’s memories, it was just a big dump of information that did nothing but pull out a wtf from me. I think it would be a lot better if we saw a POV like the one from chapter 131, more honest and raw being that we would be seeing his true thoughts with no outside opinions and questioning. But this whole mess felt so, so displaced that for two seconds I wondered if they were all going crazy, Eren included. 

And I will never accept that Eren “killed” his mom for the sake of whatever the heck this became. Just no. Carla was Eren’s most important person, the one who said he was special simply for being born, and you want to convince me she had to be pulled into this mess because of some weird shit Ymir had going on with Mikasa, and Eren had to follow through?? This was cheap shock value that didn’t even shock because of how nonsense it is. The scene in which Eren asks Reiner why did his mom have to die lost all of its value and weight. How can one rewatch or reread snk, see the tragic and emotional scene where a 10 year old kid cries and screams as he see his mom be EATEN BY A TITAN and feel anything at all? Honestly, what a disrespect to Carla. Someone should have told her Yeagers can’t be trusted.

Speaking of Yeagers: Grisha, your kids are a mess. Come take responsibility for this-

Besides the fact that Zeke was killed for absolutely NOTHING, Eren’s character became a joke on a dozen of panels. More than angry, I’m shocked with how Isayama pulled this off. From having one of the best MC in modern shounen to having a pathetic little idiot that doesn’t know wtf he’s doing and has an intense unresolved crush on the girl he’s always had zero chemistry with. Legit I would be less surprised if he said he had a crush on fucking Connie, for god’sake. All of his motives, ideals and determination were sacrificed in sake of complete obnoxious notions of love I’m not even gonna ramble about here. And don't come at me with the whole "Oh bUt hE's JuSt A tEeNaGeR aNd DoEsN't UnDeRsTaNd HiS eMoTiOnS aNd WaS hIdInG hIs LoVe FoR mIkAsA". That's a cheap explanation for a cheap argument for a cheap mess that makes no sense. If you’re an Eren stan, I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened but I feel your pain.

Last but certainly not least: Mikasa and Ymir.

I could say so much about these two but to sum it up: what a miserable duo. I’m not head over heels for Mikasa but I thought she had her place in the story and could have had some good character development. But ever since the timeskip, I had a feeling it wasn’t going to happen and it really didn’t. If Isayama chose this way for her because there’s a message between the lines, I don’t care because this was the last chapter and we all wanted answers. So we’re working with what we have laid down plain which is: Mikasa had a miserable ending, can’t let go of Eren and is stuck in the past. Her so called “selfless” love and obsession towards Eren is a very unhealthy response to her own traumas. This connection between her and Ymir just proves even further what I said as both of them are devoted to a love that never gave back and deeply hurt them in more ways than it’s apparent.

And still on Ymir’s topic, I don’t understand why she now has stockholm syndrome towards that nasty, disgusting, waste of human being king when the plot was setting her up in a complete different direction!? That whole talk of Eren finally freeing her from being a slave to the royal family, and giving her the chance of choosing her own path, where did all of that go!? What was that chapter for!? All of this buildup just because she was waiting for Mikasa?

Where has the entire talk about “everyone deserves freedom because they were born into this world” go? Why has a theme bigger than any of the characters gotten reduced to “waiting for Mikasa to decide herself about her feelings ‘cause omg tragic loooovee story”??? This just makes the deaths of everyone, and the scouts look completely useless. That Ramzi kid really died for this...

I swear, what a mess.

Overall, if you read this chapter in one go and then sigh relief as snk is finally over, this ending will probably be okay or just meh. I’m not angry or anything near that. Just disappointed and shocked that these two last chapters were this bad. Again, even if there are hidden messages between the lines, this is the last chapter and we shouldn’t have to be debating that. It’s okay to pull out a bunch of foreshadowing and questioning and whatnot in your story but to leave things in the open with the most weird messages and morals on the surface is just...blergh.

[residentlesbrarian]

Fandom and Fanfiction Galore

Ship It by Britta Lundin

Aaaaaalrighty...so this was written almost 3 years ago hot out of ClexaCon 2018 and it is...an interesting one. I had and still very much have feelings about this book. Would I write my thoughts the exact same way today as I did back then...probably not! So enjoy this bit of a pre-pandemic pre-a-whole-bunch-of-other-personal-stuff-y’all-don’t-need-to-know-about me talking about a book I still don’t really know how I feel about! Enjoy!

This was another book I found because of the Queering YA panel at ClexaCon 2018. Being able to talk to Britta at the booth after the panel was awesome, because you could tell talking with her that she was a true fan. She knew what being surrounded by fandom was like and it made me pretty excited to read the book.

Unicorn Rating:

Blurb: Living in the environment of fandom can be an insane experience in both good and bad ways. This book delivered a unique experience and look into fandom culture that was surreal to read about outside of fanfiction and tumblr.

Disclaimer: I will try my best to not spoil anything from the book, but my book loving rambles may give more away than a traditional review. Here we go! Ramble time!

Review:

I would say overall this book felt a little weird for me. I didn’t absolutely love it but I also didn’t particularly dislike it. It fell in a very ‘meh’ place for me, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have good things to say about it, they are just slightly confusing things.

The plot was actually one of the things I liked the most about it. Even though it was a crazy unrealistic plot, it helped capture the absolute lunacy of being a member of fandom culture perfectly. Sometimes being a fan is a simple life of surfing Tumblr and liking posts but sometimes the craziest things happen and change your life forever. In this case the reader is swept up in this craziness with Claire and the unrealistic aspect of it all made it feel more realistic as counterintuitive as that sounds. That is what the fandom experience can feel like at times, everything makes so little sense it actually circles back around to making sense, but enough about that...time for some character rambles.

Now we have two perspectives explored in this book. That of Claire, the fangirl, and Forest, the actor who has never had to deal with fangirls before. Let’s start with Claire. I am of two minds on her. Part of me really doesn’t like her, mostly because she is a person that in real life I probably wouldn’t spend time around and, as I’ve stated in a previous review, I have a hard time separating myself from characters and remembering that they are only teenagers. Multiple times I actually physically facepalmed, while reading a hardback book! That isn’t easy to do, but I did it, because she was doing things that just seemed so illogical from my perspective. But I am an adult, so of course I have a completely different perspective than a teen who is away from home and feeling a little out of control for a plethora of reasons. Now the other part of me really liked her, strangely enough for those exact same reasons, she was so real that I went full ‘Mom’ mode and wanted to sit her down and have a talk about what she was going through before she did something she was going to regret. Even if I found the character to be unlikeable the fact I was still on her side and wanted to help her really shows the depth that was written into her.

Now moving on to Forest. Oh, Forest. He was a character that I was very intrigued by at first because his was a perspective I, as a fangirl myself, had never seen in a book before, but damn if he didn’t make it so hard to like him. Some of the things he said and did made me want to throttle him. I could excuse some of the stuff Clarie did because of her age and the craziness of everything going on around her, but Forest is an adult and should know better. He would improve and his actions would start to win me over, but then he would overreact to something and make me want to put on my throttlin’ gloves again. I felt like that Tyra Banks ‘I was rooting for you!’ reaction gif while I was reading this multiple times. Again, though, there were parts that I was glad Forest called Claire out on her actions when it was called for, but overall they both needed an intervention to have them sit down and just chill for five seconds.

I actually genuinely liked a majority of the side characters in this as well. I actually have less of the weird mental confusion when it comes to the side characters. Rico was cute and great around the fans. Jamie was a total asshat but he was written to be that way to foil Claire in her mission to make ‘Smokeheart’ cannon. One of my favorite scenes in the whole book was actually between Claire and the social media consultant, whose name I totally remember and am just choosing not to put in because I think that’ll be all avant garde...okay fine I forgot her name and I am not digging the book out to find it. Anyway...I can’t really go into detail about the scene because, you know, spoilers but it was so well done in the context of the story.

Now for the last big character I want to speak on, the love interest, Tess. Now I really liked Tess and even understood how she wanted to keep her nerdy hobbies a secret from her small town friends. I was lucky that I grew up in a family and a circle of friends that let me embrace my passions no matter how off-the-wall they may seem to others. Tess obviously didn’t have that kind of support but she was still so passionate just privately. I will say though, ironically given the title of the book, I don’t ship it. Tess and Claire definitely share an instant attraction and the chemistry is there but they have so much growing to do before they are anywhere close to having an actual healthy functional relationship. Maybe if we saw more of them it would feel more compelling but it just wasn’t for me.

So my final thoughts on this book are just...a little discombobulated. Part of me was really happy to read a book that portrayed a part of my life that is so hard to put into words at times. I have never been a rabid fangirl, but after Lexa’s death I had to try and explain my utter devastation to people who just didn’t understand why a fictional character mattered to me so much. This book captures at least a layer of the fandom experience in a way that I’ve never seen before. The problem I have in the end though is how problematic everything that happens was, and then the ending just felt so sudden. We didn’t see any of the characters address their issues on the page. I hope this review made some coherent sense, because this book still doesn’t really make sense even in my brain, but I need to wrap this up now.

Queer Wrap-up: Okay, so, for our rep we have a questioning main character who definitely has some queer tendencies, but overall her realizing her feelings took such a back seat to her mission to make a fictional ship cannon on a show that was already filmed it took away from the rep as a whole. It just felt like the focus was so split that the actual rep gets lost in the pages. There is no argument by the end of the book that Claire is queer, which earns the three unicorns on that alone, but some of the tropes that played parts in the book were just so cringey that I couldn’t rationalize giving it more than that. Even with a couple side characters who were revealed to also be queer they weren’t enough to cover for the less stellar parts of this book.

Links:

Britta Lundin’s Website

TheStorygraph

Amazon

Okay, so if you couldn’t tell by that train wreck of a review this book just confused me. It kept me just interested enough to pick it back up after I’d put it down, but also wasn’t that bad. It lives in a weird oxymoronic vortex in my brain that honestly gives me a headache if I focus on it too much. There were aspects of this book that I did genuinely like but it all gets swirled together with the parts that made me put it down and need to take a break. If any of you want to discuss those more spoiler-filled aspects please send an ask and I’ll welcome you into the cyclical nature of whatever this book is doing in my brain. And as always if you want to read this but don’t want to spend the money without knowing for sure you are going to like it, go to your local library. You’d be surprised what they have on their shelves just waiting to be discovered. Trust me, I’m a lesbrarian.

[snarkwriteswrasslin]

21.12, trees and traditions, adam page

Title: trees and traditions

Theme: trees/decorating

Fandom / Character(s): Adam Page x Ivy, an OC of mine from a fic I keep abandoning.

Warnings: Bittersweet reunions, single mom au, awkward tension, fluff if you squint. Bad fluff, but fluff, all the same.

Word Count: my guesstimate is roughly around 1.6k 

So... I wrote this on a whim. It’s taken Adam Page and my original character Ivy, from that twice tried/twice abandoned fic that I still want to write so bad I can taste it, and it’s put... new things into play. And maybe.. if enough people like this... maybe I’ll be tempted to actually do something with this version, because to be honest, I liked this version better than the previous 2. This is my entry for the day for @champbucks​ 12 Days of Christmas challenge. 

Tagging:

@kyleoreillysknee​​​

@rampagewriting​​​

@writertoo18​​​

@thatnerdwriter​​​

@wrestlingismyguiltypleasure​​​

@chasingeverybreakingwave​​​

@waywardwrestlewritingwaif​​​

@sassymox​​​

@champbucks​​​

@hungmanhorsecarriage​​​

@wardl0w​​​

@ryantaylorgirl​​​

@dilfmoxley​​​

@hotyeehawman​​​

@gabbynorth98​​​

@bec0m​​​

@irish-newzealand-idian-dutch​​​

@daddyslittlevillain​​​

[ about page | masterlist | tag list ]

I knelt on the carpet in my new living-room, a big cardboard box in front of me, unwrapping ornaments. My son was passed out on the couch, surrounded by action figures. Nightmare Before Christmas was playing quietly for background noise because if I didn’t have some form of background noise, I’d be jumping at every little sound.

I’d just gotten out the tangled string of lights and started to work on untangling them when I heard a knock at the front door of the cabin. Right away, I tensed. My stomach tightened right up and every possible scenario I could imagine -and none of them particularly good, flew into my mind.

Before I realized what I was doing, I’d stood and my hand wrapped around the old wooden Louisville slugger that served as my only form of home protection for the time being as I cautiously made my way to the front door.

I let out a long and ragged breath when I saw Adam standing on the step, leaning against a thick wooden porch post.

After my heart finally climbed it’s way down out of my throat, I opened the door and peeked out. “Adam? My mom told me you were still on the road.”

He shrugged, stepping closer. He looked as if he wanted to hug me, but he wasn’t sure if doing it were a good idea or not. Just seeing him again after all this time though… Realizing just how much I’d truly missed the man. Among other things hanging around in the back of my mind at the moment.

I pressed against him, looping my arms around his neck, smiling up at him. The bat I’d been holding and totally forgotten about clattered to wooden floorboards noisily and from the open doorway, my son spoke up, rubbing his eyes sleepily. “Mama? You’re lettin all the heat out.”

“I’m sorry, sweetie.” I broke the hug with Adam reluctantly and turned, kneeling down in front of my son, smiling. I looked back over my shoulder at Adam, who was gaping and then back to my son, whose entire face lit up.

He raised a hand, pointing it at Adam. “I..He.. We just watched him on the tv earlier, mama!”

“We did, sweetheart. Can you do mom a favor?” I smiled at my son.

“What you want me to do, mama?”

“Go back inside. You’re barefoot and it’s freezing out, slugger and if you got sick, I…” I hugged my son tight and he laughed, trying to push me away as I licked the side of his face. “Ew, mama, don’t cow lick me!”

“I’m supposed to. That’s what mama cows do to their calves, champ.”I laughed as I watched my son step back in the door. But he snuck over to the window right beside it, I could see his little fingers on the plaid curtain panels.

I turned back to look at Adam. His hand was resting against the back of his head and finally, after a minute or two of his mouth opening and closing, he chuckled. 

“He’s a cute kid. Took after his mom, I see.”

I gulped. I forgot just how much Adam’s flirting affected me. And what a visceral effect it had always been. Or maybe it just had the punch it had now because I hadn’t seen him in so long and now, here he was.

Standing right in front of me, quite literally, the one who got away.

“Ivy, I.” Adam started to say something, but I raised my fingertip to his lip, pressing it against. I know him like I know the back of my hand, we grew up together. We were in love once. I still love him, even if I can’t have him. I knew he was about to apologize for that last night we were together, the huge fight we had after he proposed and I freaked out on him. And honestly, in the time that’s lapsed since, I’ve come to the realization that he has no reason to. I was the one who flipped out and then left town in a hurry.

“Adam, no. I’m the one who should be apologizing right now, okay? But when you started talking like that back then, I… I kinda panicked. We were kids and I was nowhere near ready to handle that level of commitment.

,, and yet, when you became ready, Ivy, you somehow managed to find the worst man possible to get involved with. What you should’ve done, and you know it, is come back here. Settled down with Adam. Stopped trying so hard to escape this little town and embraced it, because really, was it any better out there? No.” my mind was tormenting. I tried to put the thought out and flashing him a gentle smile, I stepped out of the doorway, turning the knob to open the door. I thought if I turned away from him, just for a second, I could pull myself together.

“Listen, Adam. It’s freezing out here and I have a tree to decorate. So, if you want to catch up? I think we should move it inside.” I gave a soft laugh. Every part of me thought that he’d offer up an excuse and leave in a hurry. I didn’t expect him to want to hang around, but it didn’t stop me from wanting him to. From hoping against hope that he’d hang around, even if only for a little while.

Adam eyed the door and swallowed hard as his eyes fixed on me again. My eyes caught on the subtle bob of his throat as he did so, followed by the way his tongue trailed over his lips and I took a shaky breath. When he went to step into my grandma’s cabin, our bodies brushed just barely, and for the most fleeting of seconds. And everything came rushing right back, all over again.

How could I have ever been so stupid to just leave. Adam offered me the world on a silver platter and like an idiot, I ran. I had to know if the world was better. I had the whole world the whole time and I realized it way too late.

His hand lingered at my waist. An old habit. One I really missed. I swallowed hard, my eyes drifting up, meeting his as I did my best to put on my best friendly and neutral smile, despite the plethora of emotions that were fighting to the surface.

,, you’re not in the right place right now, Ivy. Not at all.” my brain weighed in on the situation at hand. I pushed any and all thought or emotion I may have been feeling out of my head for the moment. We stepped into the living room of the cabin and Adam let out a low, approving whistle at the Christmas tree tucked in the spot by the window and near the fireplace.

Just like Grams always did every single year.

“How’d you get that tree in here, hon?” Adam’s voice shattered through my thoughts and I glanced up from the box of ornaments I’d been hovering over because I’d seen an envelope sitting towards one side.

I straightened, wiping my hands on my favorite pair of jeans and shrugged. “Dragged it, mostly. It wasn’t that heavy.”

Adam nodded, going quiet again. He reached out, taking an ornament from the box on the coffee table between us and as he put it on the tree, he asked, “So is this.. Is it permanent, I mean.. My dad, he said somethin about a movin truck being parked up here for about two nights. Didn’t know you were the one who bought the place.”

I dragged my fingers through my hair and eyed the tree, glancing down briefly at the heavily glittered star shaped piece of construction paper in my hand and I cleared my throat, getting my son’s attention. “Hey, champ. This is your ornament, bud. Hang it wherever you want it to go.”

“Okay, but I made it for th’ top, mama.”

I’d been about to lift him up, despite my reach not being much of a difference, but Adam bent down, hefting my laughing son up onto his shoulders and then he stood up, letting my son place the ornament just below the very top of the tree, where the topper my grandma always used was going to go.

He was smiling as he stood my son safely back on his feet and for just a minute or two, my mind actually went there. I actually pictured how things might have been if I’d listened to my heart all along instead of being stubborn. 

I’d always thought Adam would make an amazing dad one day.

My son hugged his legs and then asked me if I was ready for the popcorn we made to make a popcorn garland earlier and I smiled, nodding. I called out to him as he disappeared into the next room, “Don’t you eat all that popcorn, Dean!”

“Aw, mama! Just a few pieces!”

“You heard me, little man.” I gave him that firm look and he nodded, disappearing completely into the kitchen. 

It left Adam and I alone all over again. And I realized that I had yet to answer the question he asked a few minutes ago. The tension in the air around us was so thick I almost couldn’t breathe and at this point, I’d have given anything to alleviate it.

“To answer your question… The move is permanent. There’s only so much I can take…” I trailed off. It wasn’t fair to dump out my problems on him. I wasn’t going to do that. I was the one who got myself into the mess I was in right now. I needed to be the one to get myself out and so far, so good. Things already felt a thousand times better.

I felt more at peace since I’d taken my mom up on the offer of moving into Gram’s cabin than I’d felt in years. 

Adam eyed me, concern filling baby blue eyes. But he didn’t ask anything. He nodded in understanding. We reached for another ornament, the same one, and our fingers brushed together clumsily. We stared at each other a second or two, with Adam pulling his hand away first and mumbling an apology before turning away quickly, busying himself with placing the ornaments in his hand on the tree.

I cleared my throat. “If you were going to ask, I’m fine. Better now, actually.”

He turned around and our bodies brushed just slightly all over again. His hands went to my elbows as if he were going to steady me and he gazed down at me as if there were a million things he wanted to say, but he didn’t even know where to start. And I felt the same. Seeing him again was both a comfort and a torture.

A comfort because instinctively, I knew I was home. I was safe and the crap of more recent years was about to be over and behind me.

Torture, because I was now confronted with everything I never even knew I wanted.

“You’re sure, right? He didn’t… hurt you or anythin’?”

I sighed and shrugged. “I signed myself up for it.” my gaze dropped down to the box of ornaments and apparently, he wasn’t having it. His fingers tucked beneath my chin and he made me look him in the eyes.

“You didn’t ask for anythin’ he did. None of it’s your fault, okay? I don’t care what happened. It ain’t my business. But I know you, Ivy. And I care.” he went quiet and I bit my lip, mulling over what he said. Seeing him get stirred up like he just had on my behalf only reminded me just how loyal he’d been. Just how much he protected me.

,, and just how for granted you took that.” the thought finished itself in my mind and I took a deep breath or two. “Thank you.”

I went quiet after saying it, because there was so much more I wanted to say, but I wasn’t in the shape to say it right now. Adam shrugged, flashing me that lopsided grin. Trying to lighten the mood.

“I mean it, Ivy.. If you two need anything, I’m right down the road, darlin.” he spoke up again for a few seconds and I nodded, smiling. I know I won’t ask for help unless I absolutely have to, but I know Adam wouldn’t be the amazing man he is if he didn’t offer. And I knew he meant it too.

“I forgot how well we worked together.” I blurted it out as we were finishing up with the last of the ornaments on the tree. My son slunk in, flopping down on the couch with the bowl of popcorn and the string and I flopped down next to him, nodding to the empty spot on the other side of the old plaid couch so Adam would sit.

Adam smiled and sank down, talking to my son. “Whatcha got there?”

“Mama said we’re gonna put all this on th’ tree, sir.”

Adam cringed a little, but he didn’t discourage my son from using the polite term. I smiled at him over my son’s head and he smiled back. I found myself wondering if maybe he weren’t thinking back to shared family Christmases between our families.

The way we were the ones who always opted to do this. The way in later years, we’d always retreat to the living room and turn on It’s A Wonderful Life, snuggle up on my grandma’s couch with the bowl on the table in front of us as we strung popcorn for the tree and tossed kernels into each other’s mouths.

“Your mama n me.. We used to do this when we were little.” Adam chuckled, catching my gaze. Giving me this fond and soft little smile. I smiled back and nodded, reaching for a handful of popcorn. “We weren’t as good as you were though, champ. Because when Adam and I were doing this, we usually ate most of the popcorn before we ever got around to stringing it.”

“We did not!”

“We did, Adam.”

“Your mama did.” Adam teased, giving me a wink. I gave him a playful pout and when my son was caught up in stringing a few kernels onto the string for the garland, I took a kernel or two from the bowl and lazily tossed them at Adam, who opened his mouth, snapping it closed as soon as he’d caught the piece or two that I’d thrown.

I couldn’t help the laugh and the smile that came. Or the thought that followed which I promptly tried to push down deep.

,, Maybe Adam showing up tonight and helping you with the tree is a sign, Ivy… Things don’t have to be over. There’s always just a shred of hope. Christmas is the time for miracles, after all...”

[chibivesicle]

Golden Kamuy - chapter 253 - the chaos continues!

I’m taking a chance to look at chapter 253 on its own again - what is this?  Early 2019?  So much happens in this chapter as Abashiri 2.0 unfolds as a giant cluster with a lot of similar characters interacting.

Team Hijikata, sans Kadokura, Kirawus and Ushiyama regroup outside the brewery.

Ariko is ironically with Toni as he picks up the rear.  They confirm that our convict has fled inside.  So this group will be somewhat effective as they aren’t a divided group.  Hijikata was also able to confirm that our convict is a foreigner as they had suspected.  Toni is able to use his awesome ears to let everyone know that he heard a military rifle.  This means that the 7th is on the other side of the building.  And boom the final panel shows why Hijikata is an effective leader.

He makes it clear they capture Jack, and retreat.  NOT engage with the 7th.  Wow.  Smart, this is what a good leader does, he makes the right call.

The action turns to Ogata in the fire watchtower.  He leans below the widow where Vasily fired so he’s not visible.  This then reveals that Ogata’s type 38 is inoperable.  And begin the replay of Ogata’s sniper battle with Vasily but even worse than before.  Instead of the single shot rifle, he’s got no rifle.  But he’s in luck!  Usami is also terrible with rifle care and love!  In his need to chase down Kadokura with his bayonet, he left his type 38 on the ground.

Ogata has an interesting monologue here were he’s asking if the rifle is where it was dropped and states if he hadn’t jumped back he’d have been shot.  I am working with the english translation here and life has been far to busy to seek out the original text.  Either he’s having a conversation with himself, or he’s talking to ‘Yuusaku’.  Why could this be the case?  The next page.

Ogata looks up at the spot where he was with a “. . . . .” speech bubble and then asks “Did you save me?”  Is it Yuusaku?  Is it his guilty conscience?  Could it even be Vasily?

But he continues to state that there is no way that is possible and that you are not that soft-hearted right?  Again, it could be Yuusaku since we know he was trying to be a good little brother.  But, it could be applied to Vasily since Ogata thought he knew exactly what type of sniper he is.  Being the next level strategic sniper that he is, Ogata begins to kick a hole in the side of the wall to escape out of sight since the ladder is currently being targeted by Vasily since he thinks that is the only way out.

And this makes my heart go pitter-patter for Ogata since he’s going to outwit Vasily.

The last panel has dialogue makes me think it is a bizarre mix of Yuusaku, Vasily and Ogata’s own conscience.  Something is trying to get Ogata to think about feelings and he’s not happy with it.  It be him annoyed Yuusaku is ‘haunting’ him.  It could be the fact that Ogata is pissed that Vasily won’t let him just do his mysterious goal(s).  Or he’s just upset he’s feeling things and emotions.

The action turns back to our puddle of drunken boys.  Nikaido wants to kill Sugimoto, Tsukishima tries to hold him back and he rushes off (or tries to) because he has to stop Jack!

It is a giant fail all around, Nikaido’s firearm leg backfires on himself, and we get an epic Koifail,  Koito tries to hit Sugimoto with a bottle, falls over drunk and doinks Tsukishima instead.

Poor Tsukishima, that’s gonna leave a mark and Koito returns to lying there making his high pitched cry of something.  He really can’t handle his alcohol.  As team Tsukishima is down and out for the count, Sugimoto is able to stumble upon his type 30.

He even takes the time to suck the beer out of the rifle, after he damaged it the last time it got wet in the swamp back in chapter 114.  This mean the shame he felt when Ogata berated him had a lasting effect on Sugimoto.  Maybe, try to take care of his rifle (sometimes).

Though Noda makes it clear the it must be thoroughly dried . . .

So Ogata still wins this ‘debate’ Sugimoto.

Back in the current chapter, Sugimoto then realises that he lost Asirpa which is a bad thing. . .  I guess no one heard Kikuta yell that he caught her either. . .

The action returns to Asirpa still aiming at Kikuta, who the cool, collected and sexy man that he is, is still trying to reason with her.  She points out that two of his statements have to be lies; that as someone who investigated the scene he knows more about the bodies and that they were there first is also a lie.

Kikuta smartly pauses for a moment before asking if she’s seen an Ainu gold coin.  Her shocked face is enough to allow him to continue talking.

Kikuta has confirmed that through some mean she’s seen one of the coins and that Kikuta can press forward.  He begins to reason that since the 27th collected a few of the coins, they’d have to be the first people on the scene since they’d be stolen.  His plan is to win her over with as much logic as possible.

Kikuta said that the existence of the coins was enough for Tsurumi to tell his men that it confirmed the existence of the gold.  This is a suspicious statement to me.  Kikutata is saying that this is what Tsurumi said.  How do we know that Tsurumi used this as a reason to get the men behind him?  It could have been a lie made up by Tsurumi who just said the gold coin is proof.  Unless someone else besides Tsurumi came up with this makes me want to not quite trust this.

Anyhoo, that is me just being suspicious of anything through the Tsurumi filter.

The conversation continues on with Kikuta wanting to link the coins to Wilk.  He explains that the tattoos are similar to the coins and knowing that Asirpa has seen the tattoos and the coin, he’s wanting her to think of her father’s involvement.  To sweeten the temptation, he says that Tsurumi knows more things and they can tell her the truth as to whether or not Wilk killed the other Ainu.  There is a moment of tension as she sweats while holding her bow drawn.  But the issue is resolved when she gets a full page to reply.

Asirpa shows that she is a big picture thinker.  She’s been worried since the start of the manga about if her father killed the other men even though she’s had enough evidence that he likely didn’t kill them.

Instead, she realizes that the future of the Ainu is more important and she has accepted that he entrusted this task to her.  Which is also confirmed by Sugimoto’s conversation with Wilk and by Kiro’s actions and Ogata’s words on the ice floe.

Her stance really puts her in the same area as where Kiro was and that by going to Karafuto she learned that she must become active in her role in everything.  Good or bad or indifferent, Asirpa has made it clear that she’s got more in common with the partisans than with most of the Japanese men she’s been traveling with.  I think on some level, Sugimoto realizes that, but denies it since he can’t accept the fact that Asirpa has many different challenges that he simply lacks.

This then makes sense why Kikuta tries so hard to get her to give up and abandon the gold.  Everyone around her will be killed!  I’m guessing Kikuta isn’t a fan of unnecessary death and destruction, but her reply is more interesting.

She’s upset that he’s stating this after she’s already witnessed death because of the whole ordeal.  Her own father’s death, all the people at Abashiri, Kiro.  Asirpa has committed to things and she’s already seen so many people die as a result of this.  And she’s right, Kikuta’s plea is far to late.

We then get a flashback to Asirpa and Sugimoto alone as to when they first teamed up in the beginning.  Is she having a nostalgic moment of when things were less complicated?  That she’d like to go back to things before the quest for the gold.  If she hadn’t met Sugimoto would she have missed out on the gold hunt or been older and able to handle it better?

Of course the tension of the moment needs to increase!  Usami emerges from the shadows.  Honestly, it is hard to tell if he wouldn’t just hurt her, but if he wants maximum Tsurumi love, he’s going to cut the bowstring.

And surprisingly, Kadokura tackles him and tells her to flee since everyone would be in trouble if she went with Tsurumi.

Asirpa escapes even as Kikuta tells her not to.  Usami then tries to pin down Kadokura, but his roll to escape trips up Kikuta.  I’m becoming suspicious of you Kadokura . . . are are more aware of things than you seem to be . . .of course Asirpa runs back into the building and we know that Jack is in the building. .

Kikuta tries to pursue her, but she fires an arrow at the ground near his feet and he hesitates outside calling her shrewd.  I think he’s disappointed he couldn’t win her over with words.  Though Ogata shouldn’t feel as bad, even someone like Kikuta couldn’t win her over to his side.

And poor Kadokura!  He’s being chased by Usami again and Usami’s obsession with him is just bizarre . . .

Why does Usami have such a fixation on him?  Kadokura also is hiding something and again, he’s more competent than he looks . . .

The action then returns to our sniper battle.

A figure wearing a cloak is visible around the brewery.  A hand is shown reaching for the type 38.  Shockingly, the man is shot in the head!

Vasily has scored another kill! 

Of course, as soon as I saw this, I was like, “Oh that poor decoy.”  Since I know Ogata isn’t going to run out into the open to grab his new baby.

We then see the body collapse; a man missing teeth with a few coins falling from his body.  And I just thought, nice nice.  Ogata paid off some [likely] drunk or desperate man to wear his cloak and reach for the rifle.  Realizing that Vasily will have to discharge the used shell casing, he sprints out.

In an example of speed and dexterity, he scoops up the rifle and leaps through the window that Ushiyama already broke open.  We see the next shot from Vasily hit the brick below the window.

Ogata begins to get cocky and snarky, by stating that you [Vasily] keeps missing his shots.  He notes that chances like he’s had don’t happen often and we just get upset sounds from Vasily.

Face it, in this replay of our sniper battle, Ogata has owned Vasily!  He’s several steps ahead and Vasily was lazy to think Ogata would use himself as the target again. 

This also means that Ogata knew where Ushiyama went through the window or found the open window well in advance.  He’d then have to time sending the poor decoy out so that he could rush in, grab the rifle and then leap through the window.  This isn’t a fair fight between the men; in the context that Ogata will out maneuver him.  Based on his cheeky attitude, Ogata knows it is Vasily and I’m even more certain that Ogata questioned him and knew there is a good chance he didn’t die due to his injuries.

Tsurumi is correct all the way back during the showdown in Barato.  We know the whole link to his father is one of Tsurumi’s lies slowly shown by Ogata’s involvement in Hanazawa’s death.  What still holds true is less about his parentage and more that 1.) Tsurumi knows that Ogata is ambitious - even though he doesn’t show it. 2.) Tsurumi doesn’t know his goal or objective - which we still don’t know.

Lastly, and most importantly, Ogata is an exceptional soldier and he’s not someone you want as an opponent.  Vasily, is an excellent sniper, but he lacks the other skills that Ogata possesses.

Since there is so much going on the action returns to the quest to corner Jack.  Toni is able to follow Jack and Ariko is able to read the blood trail. Kantarou proudly states that their group will prevent his escape.  He might be right.  They have the best team.  Not drunk or emotional and cohesive.

Of course it has to end on a cliffhanger with Jack spotting Asirpa.

This chapter continues the chaos that is this entire fiasco!  So much is happening.

Team Sugimoto-Asirpa-Shiraishi is completely broken!  They got separated and currently lack any cohesion.  This is resulting in Asirpa being constantly targeted and singled out - you know that thing that Sugimoto keeps telling her not to do.  Shiraishi was ignored and we have no idea what he’s doing.

Koito, Tsukishima and Nikaido are down and out for the count.  Perhaps, their beer mishap will help them detect issues from Tsurumi, hiding some of their reluctance to serve him blindly.  Plus, Nikaido is far to unpredictable of a factor - why did they bring him and what to they hope to achieve.  Kikuta’s distrust of Koito and Tsukishima is obvious, he grabbed Asirpa and left them behind and he’s been trying to not work with Usami as well.  Kikuta is almost showing his hand by not showing his hand. . . .

I hate to admit it, but team Hijikata is doing alright.  But Hijikata is a leader.

Boutarou is MIA.  We know he ran off some where or is doing something.  Is he hiding?  Does he have a hidden alliance with some of the group?  Kirawus?  Or is his loyalty to Shiraishi, one of the new cast members he seems to trust and like.  He also questions Shiraishi’s motives so he’s not playing dumb either.

And Ogata - Ogata is having likely an existential crisis about ‘emotions’ while in the middle of a sniper battle with Vasily.  As I continue to chew on his dialogue, I really think he has more than one listener for his one sided conversation.  Vasily is linked to Yuusaku.  It was the fact that Ogata did not kill Vasily and then he had his fever dream where Asirpa became Yuusaku.  Since then Asirpa, Yuusaku and Vasily have been linked to Ogata.

I’m beginning to wonder if the reason why Ogata all of this started when Ogata began to think about the possibility of guilt.  His fever is linked to something bad taking hold of him. . .

But what if this is the fact that Ogata is now recognizing his guilt and humanity through Yuusaku’s death?  He ended up in a situation where this finally bubbled to the surface.  Was the fever really a bad thing or did Ogata realize something during his fever dreams making a breakthrough.  Of course being the total suck at dealing with emotions, he’s just kept fighting them since, but Ogata can’t deny that something changed him after that event.

Well that’s all I have for now.  My brain is a bit of a mush from over 4 hours of Zoom meetings today.

It is clear chapter 254 will be as chaotic and high energy as the last few.

[wesavegotham]

I've been trying to write a longer post about Damian's last story in the Robin 80th anniversary special for a few days now because it's the lead up to Bruce and Damian's confrontation in the next Teen Titans Annual, but the whole storyline of them having a falling-out is such a mess, it's hard to make definitive statements about anything.

The set-up in No Justice was badly executed. Yes, Damian disagrees with Bruce on some pages but it's not really important to their later conflict. We never saw their big fight, it happened off-panel. So the beginning is already vague as hell. Nothing in No Justice was tied to Damian personally, so it always felt like a pretty weak excuse to get Damian away from his father. The whole thing felt tacked on.

Also, it's not like Damian didn't give Bruce hints towards why he's angry at him so I don't know why Bruce seems to clueless in the Robin special.

Glass's reasoning for Damian's actions in Teen Titans never convinced me and felt like a huge step back for the character. To this day the book makes it sound like Bruce and Damian aren't on speaking terms and Damian isn't coming home anymore.

The first time Bruce wanted to fix things was in Detective Comics, but everything in that arc turned out to be part of a simulation. So in reality they still had their issues, didn't talk about it, but Damian was at home in the batcave when Bruce woke up anyway:

Maybe Damian wanted to congratulate Bruce on his birthday even though they supposedly weren't talking to each other, I don't know, the story never told me. It also didn't tell me why Damian was still there in the next arc and working alongside Bruce to take down the Arkham Knight just fine. Damian even stayed for several days because Bruce was temporarily blind at the end of the story and Damian got to drive the batmobile for him.

Damian also came when Bruce used the red batsignal in the main Batman book to call for help, unlike Ric, Jason and Stephanie who were at odds with Bruce at the time too and refused. Later he went along with Bruce's plan to send him into Gotham alone during the City of Bane arc to fight Gotham Girl, get himself beaten up, taken hostage and held at gunpoint by Flashpoint Thomas Wayne. He also said this during the arc:

Which speaks of his loyalty to Bruce and to the bat-family, considering he's supposed to be at odds with Bruce, Alfred compared him to Ra's Al-Ghul in their last known conversation and Damian has either a complicated or a non-existent relationship with everyone present in the last panel. Yeah, honestly that little speech doesn't make a lot of sense.

After Alfred's death Damian still comes when Bruce asks for assistance with a case after Lucius pestered Bruce into taking care of the missing children cases in one of his orphanages while Bruce was busy with taking down a gang:

At the end Bruce talks about how it's their responsibility as Wayne's to take care of the kids at the orphanages they own, Bruce builds another wing for the orphanage and Bruce and Damian seem to be on good terms at its opening two months later:

When Bruce finally calls the family for a meeting/wake for Alfred after Bruce build a hospital in memory of their (grand)father figure Damian is probably the character who is the least angry at Bruce for what happened:

And Damian still seems to come home to the manor after Alfred's death...to eat I guess:

And now we have this story:

So Robin has been off the grid for months and the few times they did run into each other he has been cold to Bruce? I mean I guess that's true in some stories, but definitely not all and even in the stories where DC hints at their conflict Damian still ends up helping Bruce. And apparently he's not "off the grid" enough to not come home. I'm...confused by this storyline.

Judging from my analysis I'm not sure why Bruce is lamenting about Damian not living up to his values of loyalty and family, since Damian seems pretty happy to go along with whatever plan his father comes up with in most comics, even if it includes a high risk to his own life. Like Bruce's dumbass plan in City of Bane or spending several days in a snowstorm searching for another child. The fact that in Detective Comics #1017 and Pennyworth RIP Bruce is shown to be the person who changes the topic when Damian complains about their relationship and refuses to go after his son to comfort him even after Barbara pushes him to do so also makes me wonder how Damian is supposed to strive towards these values when Bruce does such a bad job trying to live by them himself.

I know DC hinted in Justice League #39 that reality is broken and maybe that works as an in-universe explanation for this mess, but as a consumer this is simply unpleasant to read. When I read an issue dealing with this storyline I don't know if they're on speaking terms or not, if Damian still follows Bruce's orders or not or even if Damian still lives at the manor sometimes or only with his team.

[lady-of-the-imagines]

Bitten Pt. 2

Summary: Ivy Stark met Peter Parker the day he became Spiderman

Word Count: 2,017

Warnings: None

Part 1

“So, do you live in the tower with all the avengers?”

Ivy nodded in response, having taken a too-big bite of pizza moments before.

“That’s so cool,” He stated “What’s it like? Does your dad let you go on missions and stuff? Oh, were you here when the aliens invaded?”

She laughed and held up a finger, chewing quickly before attempting to respond. In all honesty she usually hated when people asked her about the Avengers. Most of their questions were invasive, and it always felt like she was nothing more than a gateway for inside information. But Peter had seemed so excited just to be in her presence that she couldn’t bring yourself to feel annoyed with him.

“Four years ago I was on a tour of this boarding school in Massachusetts to see if I wanted to attend alter on, so I was away when the house blew up and my dad moved here. I wasn't here when everything went down with the aliens either, I’d moved in with my mom in San Francisco after the whole house thing so I pretty much missed everything interesting.”

“I completely forgot your house blew up. I’m really sorry I shouldn’t have even asked, I-.”

“Don’t be, my dad quite literally asked for it; Unless you fired a missile, then you should definitely be sorry.”

He chuckled at that and took another bite of his pizza.

“How long have you lived in New York?” she asked.

He shrugged, “My whole life.”

“A born and raised New Yorker,” she stated, more to yourself than to him.

“So, do you go on missions?”

“Oh crap, we gotta go the group should be done with the tour in like ten minutes.”

Ivy shoved her bag over her shoulder and grabbed their pizza. Pulling Peter’s arm they hurried out of the pizzeria, shooting a grateful smile toward the staff on your way out. Conversation was stalled as they hurriedly ate the rest of their slices and rushed toward Oscorp.

“Wait,” she held an arm out to Peter to keep him from going in. Pulling out the napkins she’d left in her pocket, she handed some to him and they wiped the grease from their mouths. Now looking clean and very unlike two students who’d abandoned their tour group, they walked inside.

“I’ll text MJ to find out where everyone is.”

“I’ll text Ned.”

MJ responded first. They were heading toward the entrance where Mr. Osborn would lead the class to a demonstration on the control of radioactive rays in the lab. This was new, they’d never offered this on any of your prior visits.

“They’re headed toward us, so let’s just stand off to the side and join them in the back of the group.”

“Ya know you still haven’t answered my question, right?” He asked.

“What question?”

“If you go on missions with the Avengers.”

She winked, “Classified information Parker. So classified that even my dad wouldn’t tell you.”

“But you-“

He was cut off as their guide entered the lobby.

“And here we are, back where we started. I can wait with you until Mr. Osborn gets in and then you’ll witness our demonstration.”

You slipped in beside MJ quietly, giving her shoulder a gentle nudge. She placed a bookmark between the pages and slipped her book into her bag.

“How was pizza?”

You shrugged, “Pretty good, lots of superhero questions.”

“So nothing new,” she nodded “Did you know about the demo?”

“No I think it’s new, what’s it all about?”

“Basically it’s some old machine they used to use in like the 50s to control ‘radioactive rays’ in the lab. Should be interesting enough.”

Ivy nodded, “Cool.”

Peter and Ned moved to stand with the two of you, both boys peppering her with questions once again. Peter wanted to know if she’d ever tried holding Thor’s hammer. Ned wanted to know if she’d ever held Cap’s shield. Peter asked how many suits your father had built, and Ned wanted to know if she got to work closely with Bruce in his lab.

She answered their questions, avoiding any that were a bit too invasive so as to not give too much away. Peter checked in to make sure they weren’t bothering you, and for once she could honestly say the questions didn’t bother her. The look of joy on their faces outweighed any grievances she might have. By the time Mr. Osborn arrived, they’d finally exhausted all the questions they’d thought of on the spot and moved on to regular conversation.

“Hello children,” He smiled “I hope you all enjoyed your tour around my facility. I’m sure you’re all good and bored now so let’s get to the fun part, shall we?”

The group followed Mr. Osborn to the display room where a young intern was waiting, handing each of you goggles. They stood behind a panel of glass so as to distance themselves from the rays as much as possible; though she did take note of the fact that there was a gap between the glass and ceiling. Ivy leaned over toward Mr. Osborn.

“You’re sure this is safe?”

“I’m surprised at you Ms. Stark,” he stated “with all the things your family does I wouldn’t have thought you to be scared of a scientific display.”

“Well Norman, in my experience things never go as planned, so I try to be as safe as possible.” She pointed toward the gap.

He simply waved her off and pulled his goggles on. She was worried, but there wasn’t much she could do about it, so she simply put on her own goggles and moved to stand with her friends.

The contraption before them was like nothing they’d ever seen (mostly because it was absolutely ancient). Two red orbs were held up by by machinery. The body reminded her of a spotlight, a metal rod protruding from the center. The rods connected into the orbs with two little ‘arms’ connecting on either side of the orb and passing through. Each machine was placed opposite the other and they were facing it from the side.

“Everybody got their goggles on?” Mr. Osborn asked. When he received a sufficient answer he gave a thumbs up to one of the men in the room and the display began.

Ivy heard a gasp from a few of her classmates as the machine sparked to life. It shot into gear with a loud whirring sound and the visual was bright to say the least. She was impressed by the sight and made a note to ask Mr. Osborn and her father about this when she got the chance. As the display wound down and the bright light faded, she removed her goggles and looked to the others.

MJ nodded, eyebrows raised and it was she was just as impressed. Ned’s mouth was still hanging open as he moved to say something to Peter who looked distressed. His brows were knotted together as he rubbed his hand, mouthing the word ‘ow’.

“You okay?” She questioned.

“Yea, I’m fine. Just a bug bite or something.” He stated, letting go of his hands and shoving them into his pockets.

“Dude, that was awesome!” Ned exclaimed. This seemed to snap Peter back into the moment and he pulled off his goggles, the pair now speaking animatedly about the demo.

Ivy walked alongside Mj as the class headed back to the main lobby. Mr. Osborn thanked the class for coming and sent you all on your way back to school. Peter and Ned sat across the isle from them now, still speaking among one another.

“That was cool.’ She commented to her friend.

“Cool because the display was awesome? Or cool because you got to skip out on the tour and get pizza?”

“Why not both?” She grinned. MJ rolled her eyes and Ivy stuck out her tongue.

The bus ride home was even louder than the bus ride there. Everyone was freshly energized and discussing in detail the purpose of the machine, and how exactly it worked. Even Mj was up for conversation, tucking her book into her bag to give Ivy her full attention.

When the bus pulled to a stop in front of their school, Mr. Harrington stood up so everyone could see him. He read out the current time and instructed everyone to head to study hall to wait out the end of this period.

“Do we have to go to our next class?” Harry groaned “It’s the last period, we might as well go home.”

“Yes Mr. Osborn, field trips aren’t an excuse to skip class.” Judging by the look Flash shot Harry, they still wouldn’t be attending.

“You guys wanna skip last period?” Ivy asked MJ, Peter, and Ned in a soft whisper.

“Where’re we going?” MJ questioned.

“We could head to my place.” She shrugged.

“I don’t know,” Peter said “they could call our houses and my aunt and uncle would kill me if they found out.”

“Dude,” Ned pulled Peter into a quiet conversation facing away from you. You held back a laugh, looking to MJ. She seemed confused and simply shrugged, unsure of what to say. They boys finally pulled back and Ned frowned.

“I think we’re gonna stay here, sorry.” Peter stated.

“Don’t worry about it.” she shrugged “Give me your phone for a sec?”

“Why?” He questioned, handing it over anyway.

“I’m gonna put my number in just in case you change your mind.”

She typed away, adding an emoji of the iron man mask next to her name for good measure. As she handed him back his phone Mr. Harrington instructed everyone to head inside. The four shuffled down the aisle with the rest of the class and made the short journey to study hall.

On your way there, Ivy sent a text to her dad’s driver to come get herself and MJ in about fifteen minutes. He replied quickly, simply sending a thumbs up, and she put her phone away.

“Hey,” Ned called to Ivy once they’d all sat down “I meant to ask you about the Iron man suits.”

“I can’t tell you much about those, my dad wants to keep most things about them a secret. That way nobody can successfully recreate them.”

“Oh, that makes sense.” He nodded “Is it okay if I ask some basic questions? Like about how long it takes to make them and stuff like that.”

“Fire away.”

When the bell rang Peter and Ned walked Ivy and MJ out to the front of the school.  A sleek black car waited patiently for the pair, and Happy Hogan rolled down his window so they could see it was him.

“Ready?” He asked. She nodded, holding up a finger to tell him they just needed a minute. When Ivy turned back to her friends she could see Ned staring wistfully at the car. Peter, though he was trying his best to hide it, also seemed to be battling with himself over wether to stay or go.

“You sure you guys don’t want to come?” She asked.

Ned looked to Peter who locked eyes with her, lips pressed tightly together. He didn’t say anything for a moment, likely weighing pros and cons in his head. Finally, he shook his head.

“No, I think I’ll stay behind, I’m not feeling that good anyway.” he turned to his friend “If you wanna go Ned, you can.”

“No that’s alright,” He sighed “we had plans after school anyway, I’ll stick with you.”

“Okay, well you’ve got my number if you change your minds.” She started moving toward the awaiting car “See you guys tomorrow.”

Ivy slid into the back seat of the car beside MJ, smiling at Happy.

“Who were they?” He asked as he began driving.

“Peter Parker and Ned Leeds,” MJ responded “they’re on the debate team with me.”

“We met them on the trip today.” Ivy chimed in.

“Huh, alright. So how was the trip?”

“Really boring but Norman showed us this machine from the 50s that was pretty amazing.” Ivy stated excitedly.

“It was awesome!” MJ exclaimed, the pair launching into detail about the demonstration.

Tags:

@eridanuswave @crumpets-are-better-with-jam @lilithmouse

[goldenkamuyhunting]

Quick outline of the changes in Golden Kamuy Vol 20

Here is a general outline of the more relevant changes that take place in Vol 20 compared to the magazine. Note that as usual I won’t dig into minor changes unless they seem to be relevant for the plot or characterization (or I really like them).

We spend a moment on the cover, which sees the return of Sugimoto on it.

Sugimoto has appeared already on two covers in the past. I tend to think the next one will be Asirpa, Tsurumi will appear on the one of Vol 23 and Ogata on the one of Vol 27 as in the past they rotated in a regular manner.

Said this I also expect Golden Kamuy to end with Vol 28, in short to have as many volumes as the chapter of Matthew’s gospel... though this might be just me. Honestly, if this were to be wrong, I don’t expect it to go past 29/30 volumes. Considering the magazine version is already at vol 23 we’re getting close to the end... ;_;

It’s also worth to mention that the backcover this time doesn’t have JUST Asirpa like the previous Sugimoto cover but Asirpa AND Ogata, Ogata taking Asirpa away from Sugimoto, in a clear reference to what happened in Vol 19... although during it Ogata was a lot less calm and confident than he looks in this cover, as if this scenewas seen in Sugimoto’s vision... and it’s worth to mention in the cover Sugimoto is trying to pull out his bayonet to likely kill Ogata with it, as he had attempted to do in their first meeting and as he likely considered to do in the hospital when he learnt Ogata would die.

We then move to the colour page.

It’s no new illustration, it was the cover for chap 205, ‘Cinematograph’ which will be in the next volume. Not one of my fave covers but it can be fitting considering the plot of the last chapters of this volume.

The downside of it is that we lose the colour cover of chap 193. I wonder if Noda will use it later.

It’s worth to note though how Noda drew for chap 193 a new black and white cover.

Always in regard to covers, the cover of chap 191 now is used as background for the summary.

As usual the volume presents a cute summary.

And now let’s talk of extra pages and panels which are added to the story.

Same as in past volumes the new pages seems to have the purpose to expand scenes that already were in  the magazine version so we can better understand what’s going on.

Note I’m not going to add them all but only those which are plot relevant (or that I particularly like).

Let’s start with chap 191.

Maybe nobody noticed it but volume pages are longer. This allows us to better see Shiraishi’s expression as he buries Kiro.

Asirpa’s expression as Shiraishi says Kiro was too serious for his own good is also redrawn (and they added some background behind Tanigaki, Koito and Tsukishima).

Tanigaki’s dialogue line about Inkarmat reporting how Kiro told her Wilk had changed is cut as Noda had added some panels in the past volume with Sugimoto telling this to Asirpa.

This allows Noda to expand the scene in which Sugimoto tells Asirpa Nopperabou told him he didn’t kill the Ainu, to which she replies ‘really?’ when in the magazine version she just looked down sadly.

Noda shortened the scene in which Sofia unbury Kiro to say her goodbye to him to add one in which she joins her men, even though it was too late to save Kiro.

It should hurt her horribly.

We go on. At Noboribetsu Noda added a Kikuta panel with the man saying something. No idea what but I love Kikuta so enjoy him.

We go to Chap 192.

The inside of the ryv is now more detailed and Ogata looks a little better... as in his bandages seem cleaner than in the volume version. Also Noda gave him a fur cover which matches with the one has in the othe scenes.

Sure the cloth placed against his eye is still not perfectly clean but the one in the magazine seemed much dirtier.

On the opposite side Tsukishima looks worse, his lips chapped now.

Noda expanded Sugimoto’s reply to Asirpa’s question ‘what are you going to do, Sugimoto? Will you cooperate with Tsurumi?’

We jump to chap 193.

As said before the color cover is removed and Noda drew a black and white new cover for the chapter.

When Kikuta notices the man with the eyepatch, the guy looks much worse than in the magazine and Ariko doesn’t turn toward him as well but looks at Kikuta. Noda also changed a little Kikuta’s expression in the following panel.

Ah, it’s not really relevant but Noda changed a little how one of Toni Anji’s men look so as to help differentiate him from Toni Anji’s other man. I’m not going to post all the scenes in which he looks different but here you can get a glimpse of him and compare him with how he previously looked in the magazine.

Noda took better care of Ariko’s mother, drawing her in action instead than still as a statue.

(and yeah you also get a glimpse of Kikuta as he says ‘the sound of geta’ as Noda redraw him)

Noda also made more clear how Kikuta removed the eyepatch (you can now see him moving something above his left eye and said eye widening and also being visible although Kikuta’s face is darkened when Toni shoots him) and Noda also drew better Toni shooting at Kikuta.

Let’s go to chap 194.

A lot more fog is added in almost all the scenes better showing how it was hard to see something in it for Kikuta and Co. No idea why but the Nikaido panels have now him looking in the opposite direction and there are minor redrawing here and there.

Overall though there is no terribly relevant change.

Chap 195 presents only one small yet relevant change.

In it it’s Ariko who volunteers to go after Toni while Kikuta remains with Usami, when in the magazine version it was Kikuta who told Ariko to go after him.

To chap 196 we go.

Ogata is confirmed to look as bad as in the magazine version in this chapter, as to imply his conditions has worsened quite a bit.

There are some minor redrawings here and there but nothing terribly relevant (still enjoy Kikuta looking more awesome... yes, if you hadn’t figured it out yet I’m partial to him).

And now we reach Chap 197 and things turn interesting.

While Asirpa remains very distressed at the idea Ogata might die...

... and we have no explanation whatsoever regarding to the Russian doctor’s odd behaviour, we get a lot of changes in regard to how  Koito and Tsurumi’s first meeting went because the volume version changed it A LOT. Not only Tsurumi’s face isn’t kept in the dark for as long as it was in the magazine but Koito definitely isn’t the well mannered kid we met in the volume version but a real bonbon, spoiled, bossy and angry, much more fitting of the personality he’ll have as an adult. Tsurumi also will show here he’s not going to let a young boy bully him.

Again Noda have someone slap some sense into someone else.

While the scene can look violent it’s clearly for Koito it was catartic. He knew he was acting like an asshole and he likely did so because he wanted to draw attention on himself but, as he says also in the magazine version, his father won’t scold him. So fundamentally Tsurumi hitting him for his bad behaviour gave him the attention he wanted and makes tematically sense with how he pointed out his father didn’t scold him.

After that fight Tsurumi’s kindness also likely made more of an impression on Koito.

It’s also worth to mention Tsurumi is freakingly strong. Remember how Ogata warned Sugimoto he shouldn’t try to block Koito’s first strike, the info box informing us it should be dodged at any cost? Well, Tsurumi blocks it with his arm and breaks Koito’s ‘sword’ (actually the cane of a poor man Koito took using his status).

So we move to chap 198.

The panels post Koito’s kidnapping are expanded. Now it’s more obvious Koito’s tricycle is in front of the consulate. Many panels are also expanded but, overall, I couldn’t detect relevant changes.

So we reach Chap 199.

The whole run in the tricycle is expanded, the chase between the Kidnapper (Kikuta) and the duo Tsurumi/Koito senior is now longer and Tsurumi gets to show off more and even express his Tsurumisexuality on two women passing by.

The destruction of the tricycle is now in a spread page, Koito senior calling for his son in another, below him the background of the Goryokaku.

And so we reach the last chapter of the volume, chap 200.

Interesting enough Noda removed Tsukishima leaving the room when they hear Koito senior calling for Koito making the scene entirely a Koito-Ogata one.

Tsukishima will remain present, we can see his hat when Ogata ties Koito, meaning he heard Ogata saying Барчонок ‘Barchonok’ (ボンボンが ‘Bonbon ga’ "pampered little rich boy’“).

This means it was clearly Tsurumi the one who knocked out Koito senior, showing us again how Tsurumi is actually quite strong but this also tells us that when Koito will mention the word Барчонок ‘Barchonok’ Tsukishima probably felt very, very uncomfortable about it as he might have understood from whom Koito might have heard it... while in the magazine version Tsukishima knew nothing about it and Koito could hope Tsukishima was actually the kidnapped who used it (unlikely, not only it’s Ogata the one with a bruised nose but ‘black hat’ was shorter than ‘white fedora’ and a much better fighter, all things that match with Tsukishima).

By the way, not only Ogata’s nose is confirmed to remain bruised (so yes, it was him the one who rubbed Koito’s back) but now we can see the number on their shoulders, which in the volume version wasn’t clearly visible although the bands showing their ranks still aren’t present.

It’s also worth to mention Noda expanded the meeting between Tsurumi, Koito and Koito senior when Koito has enrolled in the army.

No idea why they say but they discuss again how Koito was saved. I’ll say Tsurumi succesfully has managed to make Koito senior feel in debt.

Ogata’s escape is also expanded, with Sugimoto trying to shoot at him more than once. None of the shoots is remotely close to the horse as Sugimoto was clearly aiming above it, to Ogata. Not that he gets him.

Koito is shown coming out of the hospital on unsteady legs as Sugimoto wishes for Ogata to come back so he can fucking kill him though his gaze here is a little more normal.

In short Ogata didn’t put Koito completely out of service but, between the blow at his head and Ogata’s kick Koito was definitely not in his best shape.

As far as I’m involved the worst part is that nothing is explained about the Russian doctor who first didn’t want to have anything to do with them as his hospital was full, then realized they were Japanese and was threatened by Sugimoto into going with them EVEN THOUGH HIS HOSPITAL WAS FULL AND HE CLEARLY WAS BUSY, and once he sees the poor shape Ogata is in, decides to bring him to his hospital going so far as arguing with them, even though before being threatened he didn’t want to help them.

Then he perfectly smoothly acts as if Ogata is about to die, not even a drop of sweat on his face, before we discover that it’s highly possible he was being threatened by Ogata? That or there’s more and we hadn’t been told yet?

Hard to say, it’s possible Noda just wants to handwave this but really, it’s weird and it’s not addressed at all.

Anyway the volume ends here.

Ariko and Kikuta do the thanks.

...and the spoiler for the next volume is the cover of chap 210. I’ll be evil and let you check which one it is if you don’t remember it. :P

Anyway that’s all. I recommend everyone to get the volume as, as usual, it’s much better than the magazine version.