#In the meantime I hope you enjoy this art I managed to complete!

[rheakira]

Today, May 23rd, is Robin's birthday!

Happy birthday, Robin!

[fleckficgirl]

Heartthrob | Arthur Fleck x reader 💗 CHAPTER 10

Summary: Attempting to conceal her checkered past, a young dancer in Gotham (Y/N) lands a job at Ha-Ha’s and finds herself increasingly drawn to a shy, lonely clown named Arthur Fleck.

Warnings: This chapter contains mugging, memory loss, traumatic brain injury. This fic as a whole contains sex, language, violence, mental illness.

Word Count: 3164

Chapter List: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9

Author’s Note: I’m back! Obviously, it took me sooo long to figure out how to write this next chapter, but I finally got it together. I really appreciate your patience in the meantime & hope you enjoy reading it. The plan is to post more regularly soon (Chapter 11 is almost done).

“Makeup is an art,” Chantelle and Tina had explained to you the night before. “Think of your face as a canvas.”

Despite all their well-intentioned beauty coaching, the cold, hard truth was you still had no idea what the hell you were doing - you couldn’t even keep the differences between moisturizer, foundation and concealer straight in your brain. And after twenty minutes of attempting to “paint” your face like the natural-born Rembrandt they were convinced you were, you’d stared back at your reflection in the mirror and decided you looked like a clown…and not in a sexy-Arthur-Fleck kinda way.  

Exasperated, you’d washed everything off, opting instead for a tiny bit of mascara, lip gloss and powder.

But then there was the issue of your hair. You’d burned your fingers on Tina’s flat iron before managing to get things somewhat under control. But as soon as you stepped out onto the street the rain began to fall, causing your already-unruly mane to frizz up completely by the time you reached the subway.

Chantelle’s handpicked outfit, however, remained the only unblemished element of tonight's ensemble: her tight-fitting angora sweater did things for your non-existent cleavage you’d never imagined possible. You’d be sure to thank her profusely later…even though she thought you were going out with someone else tonight.

You’d never cared how you looked in front of a guy before…but Arthur Fleck wasn’t just a guy. To say he’d gotten under your skin was, perhaps, the understatement of your life: you were becoming crazy about the man.

You didn't know how you were going to survive this date. You could barely hold it together in Arthur’s presence without wanting to reach out and smother him with affection, and the kiss between you earlier today had only solidified your deepest desires. You wanted Arthur in so many ways…ways you didn’t even understand yet. It reminded you of the first time you’d ever rode the Giant Dipper at Amusement Mile: the sensation of your stomach flying up into your throat as you went over that first terrifying drop…a disconcerting mix of fear and exhilaration. Was this what being in love felt like?

***

The bouncer at Pogo’s frowned as you handed him your ID.

“Are you…um…are you alright, miss?” he asked, concern in his eyes.

You were thrown off by the question. “Of course. Why?”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but…have you looked in a mirror recently?”

You shook your head. The jerk was actually making fun of how bad your hair and makeup had turned out. People in this city really didn’t know how to act.

“Wow, you’re hilarious,” you rolled your eyes at him, snatching back your ID. “Can I please go inside now? My friend’s about to go on.”

You pushed past the rude bouncer and entered the club, scanning the room feverishly for an empty seat. Spotting one parallel to the center of the stage, your eyes lit up and you rushed over to claim it. As you sat down, a strange chill ran up your spine as you slowly began to realize: everyone was staring at you. Faces of concern and mockery swam around you, and you weren’t sure why.

Oh shit, you thought. Do I have something on my face?

Unfortunately, you hadn’t brought a compact mirror (Tina and Chantelle had given you a five minute lecture on the importance of always carrying on in your purse), so you couldn’t check. And you couldn’t get up to go to the bathroom because then you’d lose your seat. You shifted uncomfortably in your chair, then glanced at your watch and saw the glass was cracked.

Weird. You hadn’t remembered smashing it against anything on the way over.

Your concerns about your appearance, however, were quickly dissolved as the current act wrapped and the emcee took the mic.

“This next comic describes himself as a lifelong Gotham resident who from a young age was told that ‘his purpose in life was to bring laughter and joy into this cold, dark world.’ Umm. Okay? Please help me welcome Arthur Fleck!”

You applauded along with the rest of the half-faded crowd as relief washed over you. Thank God you hadn’t missed him. As Arthur took the stage, your heart began to throb again. There were simply simply no words to describe how incredible he looked tonight. His red vest. The crisp, white button-down shirt underneath it. The matching slacks.

And his hair. His hair.

You were certain his hair was going to be the death of you. How was it possible that you and that gorgeous hair inhabited the same planet without the entire world imploding?

Arthur squinted out at the crowd before speaking. You knew he was searching for you, needing to see you in the audience, needing to know you were there for him. And you were. When the two of you locked eyes, he smiled. You smiled back at him and everything else fell away. It was you and Arthur again. And nothing else in this cold, dark world mattered.

You didn’t care that Arthur had a laughing episode at the beginning of his act. You didn’t care that basically all his jokes fell flat, either. You didn’t care about any of that. All you cared about was how proud you were of him. So proud, you felt like you could burst into a million pieces.

When he finished his set, you leapt to your feet, clapping and screaming. Arthur blushed from the stage, embarrassed…and pleased. Everyone was staring at you, then back at Arthur, then back at you in dazed confusion. Two weirdo peas in a pod…and proud.

“We’re gonna take a short break,” the emcee announced.

A moment later, you and Arthur found each other at the back of the club.

“You were amazing, Arthur!” you exclaimed as you threw your arms around him.

“I'm so glad you came tonight…” he hummed into your ear. Of course, your depraved mind twisted the meaning of those two words in your head, and you found yourself having to stifle a blushing smile. You felt your body quaver with excitement at being next to him once again.

“Wait a minute…” Arthur pulled back to look at you, shock and concern flooding his face.

“Y/N, what…what happened to you?”

You blinked. “What? Nothing happened to me.”

“You’re…you’re hurt.” Arthur looked you up and down, then lifted your hands to eye-level. Bruises in the shape of what looked like fingers and fingertips lined the insides of your wrists. You frowned at the sight, utterly confused.

“Y/N, who…who did this to you?”

“I’m fine!” you insisted. “I mean…I have a slight headache, but, y’know,  it’s probably just the rain.”  

“Y/N, look at me. Tell me what happened. Can you remember?”

It took a minute for your brain to register Arthur’s question, which you realized was a little strange.

“Well,” you inhaled, trying hard to formulate your thoughts. “I got on the subway…I know that. And I took it all the way to…well, whatever this stop was near here, you know? And then I got off the train and went up the stairs…and then…” you looked up into Arthur’s beautiful eyes. “And then I was here. Watching you perform for the very first time. And I’m so proud of you, Arthur!” you squealed as if you’d seen him for the first time tonight all over again.

“You don’t remember anything else? You must have hit your head.”

“I'm fine!”

“Y/N,” Arthur’s worried eyes blinked at you. “I don’t think you are. I think I need to take you to the hospital.”

“But it’s our big date!” you wailed. “I got all dressed up and everything!”

At that moment, a few Wall Street bro types brushed past and snickered at Arthur.

“Nice set, freak. In case you didn’t get the memo: you’re supposed to tell the jokes and the audience is supposed to laugh…not the other way around.”

"He has a laughing condition, you assholes!" you snarled at them without hesitation.

To everyone’s surprise, the bros paused, thrown off by the fact you’d called them out.

“Sorry…” Arthur interjected, glancing at the dudes apologetically. “She’s…she’s not feeling well.”

Arthur shot you a desperate please-shut-your-mouth-before-you-get-us-both-killed look, but you could see there was a tiny, triumphant smile curling up his lips underneath it. Still, the words were flying out of your mouth and there wasn’t much you could do to stop them.

“Yeah, I’m not feeling well,” you continued loudly, glowering at them. “Maybe if assholes would shut their fat faces and stop acting ignorant, I’d feel better.”

“Okay, you’re coming with me now!” Arthur wrapped his arm around your shoulders and scooted you towards the door. You looked over your shoulder to see them staring after you, dumbfounded. The sight of it made you laugh.

“Y/N,” Arthur pulled you into him as soon as you were outside. “I’m taking you to Gotham Hospital. We’ve gotta get you checked out.”

“No, Arthur!” you protested. You didn’t exactly know why you were so opposed to the idea, but your first instinct was to protest.

“Y/N, please. Please? Just do it for me. Just so I know you’re okay.”

“I’m worried about you,” he emphasized.

“I’m fine!”

“Okay.”

You’d switched it up so quickly, Arthur blinked in disbelief. He cleared his throat, nodding.

“Uh…okay. Good. Let’s go.”

**

“This is not where I expected to end up tonight,” you lamented. Arthur sat next to you, a clipboard given to him by the nurse at the front desk in his lap. He was trying to fill out your paperwork for you.

“Um. Your last name is…L/N right?”

“Yeah” You smiled at him. “How’d you know?”

Arthur blushed. “I…might have looked at your timecard. I was…curious about you. This was before…you know…we became...closer.”

“That’s so sweet! I looked at your timecard, too!”

Arthur stifled a laugh. “What’s your date of birth?”

He patiently wrote in all the answers and brought the completed forms back up to the desk.

“I’m surprised there aren’t more people here,” you observed, looking around at the handful of other patients. “It is a Friday night, after all.”

“It’s only ten o’clock,” Arthur reasoned. “My guess is things get crazier out there in a couple hours or so.”

“I feel like things are flying out of my mouth tonight without any filter,” you blurted. “And I’m not even that angry.”

“I feel like they are, too,” Arthur agreed. “But, that’s okay. I’m glad you agreed to come here. I’m…I’m still worried about you.”  

You narrowed your eyes at him, leaning in. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

Arthur looked a little startled, but he nodded.

“How do you get your hair to look so good all the time?”

Arthur’s eyebrows arched and he laughed.

“I'm serious!”

“No…I'm sorry,” he demurred, looking down at the tile floor. “It's just that nobody’s ever said that to me before.”

“Nobody ever said your hair looks incredible?” you asked. “Like it's the most gorgeous hair in the world? Nobody ever approached you to do shampoo commercials?”

“Maybe that's my true calling,” he joked.

“What shampoo do you use?”

"That's a personal question," Arthur teased as the door to the back of the ER swung open.

“L/N? F/N L/N?” the nurse called out.

You leapt to your feet. “Oh! That’s me.”

“Do you want me to wait here?” Arthur asked.

“Are you kidding?” You extended your hand and pulled him up. “Of course I want you to come. You’re my emotional support clown.”

**

After weighing you, taking your blood pressure, asking if you had any allergies to any medications and all the other boring details that entailed a medical visit, the nurse set you up in an examination room and read through your paperwork, pursing her lips as she centered in on the handwritten scrawl (Arthur’s handwriting of course) that explained why you’d come to the ER in the first place.

“It says here you…think you hit your head?”

“He thinks I hit my head,” you clarified, jerking said head towards Arthur. “I’m still not sure. There’s a big gap in my memory from tonight and I don’t know why.”

“There are bruises on her arms,” Arthur added. “She came to meet me and she looked…disheveled. Like someone had…”

He paused. The nurse looked you up and down.

“You don’t remember what happened to cause the bruises?”

You shrugged. “I can be clumsy sometimes.”

“You’re not…that clumsy,” Arthur murmured under his breath. “I mean,” he looked up at the nurse. “She’s a dancer. She’s…one of the most graceful people I’ve ever seen.”

“Arthur, that is so sweet!” you exclaimed.

The nurse shot you both a skeptical look, then smiled. “Your husband obviously cares for you a great deal.”

“Oh,” Arthur blushed. “I’m…not her-”

“Yes, he’s a wonderful husband!” you interjected, flashing him a slightly maniacal smile. “So protective of me. I couldn’t ask for a better one.”

“It sounds like you might have taken a fall,” the nurse continued, jotting down a few notes on your chart. “But the bruises on your wrists do look like they were caused by someone else’s hands.”

“My watch is broken, too,” you blurted.

“I’m wondering if maybe you were mugged. It happens to women in Gotham all the time, unfortunately.”

“But I still have all my money,” you pointed out, opening up your purse to show off your untouched wallet.

“Maybe you fought them off,” Arthur suggested. It wasn’t a completely outlandish notion. You were known to bring out the feistiness if the wrong people pushed your buttons.

“In any case, we’ll run some tests to check for concussion and other injuries.”

The nurse opened a drawer and handed you a light blue paper robe. “You can put this on. I’ll inform the doctor and he’ll check you over.”

“Thank you,” Arthur said.

“Of course. He should be by in just a minute.”

“What a nice lady,” you said to Arthur after she left you alone. “Don’t always meet people like that around here.”

“Very nice,” Arthur agreed. He cleared his throat. “Um…do you want me to leave, or…turn around while you get changed?”

You blinked, the reality of everything that had happened tonight finally hitting you.

“I just can’t believe this is how tonight turned out.”

“What do you mean?” Arthur asked softly.

“I had a whole outfit planned, Arthur! And my hair and makeup. I wanted to impress you and look beautiful for you tonight.”

“Y/N…” Arthur stood up to face you. “You are beautiful. No matter what. All I care about is that you’re okay.”

You sighed, moved by his sweet words, but you still felt utterly crestfallen and defeated. “I ruined our first date. And your big stand-up debut. I wanted tonight to be perfect so bad…”

“You didn’t ruin it,” Arthur interrupted. “I…” he paused. “Of course I wish none of this had happened to you. This city is…awful. In so many ways.” He paused, taking your hand into his. “But…I just love being with you. It doesn’t matter what we’re doing, as long as we’re together.”

You wanted to kiss him again, but suddenly the door flew open and a man in a white coat suddenly stood before you both.

“I hear somebody got banged up tonight.”

“My guess is you got mugged. Maybe the muggers chickened out before they could actually…you know…mug you. It does look like you’ve got a concussion.”

**

Dr. White’s bedside manner was on the complete other end of the spectrum of your nice nurse’s from a few minutes before, but you’d come to expect that from men with MDs. After performing the perfunctory tests of shining a light in your eyes, examining your body for additional trauma or bruising (none was found) and asking you a few routine questions, he announced his evaluation:

“What can you do for that?”Arthur asked, concerned.

The doctor snorted at what he obviously deemed a dumb question. “Not much. Just wait it out. Don’t go to sleep for a while.”

“What happens if I fall asleep?” you asked.

“You could die.”

“Oh.”

“Your brain’ll heal itself,” the doctor continued. “Might take a little time. Just try to take it easy and don’t be in places where this could happen to you again.”

“You mean the entire city?” you asked, raising an annoyed eyebrow at him. You knew what he meant, but the slight insinuation that getting mugged was somehow your fault didn’t sit great with you.

“What can I say?” Dr. White shook his head and shrugged. “Welcome to Gotham.”

“I’ve lived here all my life,” you informed him dryly. “Gotham’s a jungle.”

“Then welcome to the jungle.”

**

“Are you hungry?” Arthur asked in the lobby of the hospital. It was past midnight. “There’s a diner down the street people seem to like.” He paused. “That is…if it’s not too late for you.”

The way you saw it, you’d stay up all night with Arthur if he’d have you.

“Let’s go to the diner. I could really go for a cheeseburger."

Arthur laughed. “Okay.”

The rain had stopped and the air outside felt crisp and freshly-washed. For a brief moment, it made you forget that the garbage strike in Gotham had just entered its seventh week.

You and Arthur moved through the crowded sidewalk together, stumbling through the endless obstacles of people and garbage. A startling headline caught your eye as you walked past a newsstand, and you stopped in your tracks to read it:  

KILLER CLOWN ON THE LOOSE. LATEST NEWS ON THE MURDERS, PAGE TWO.

Beneath was a drawing of a vampiric clown.

“Can you believe that?” you asked.

Arthur paused alongside you, his eyes wide as he soaked in the headline.

“I watched this on the news last night."

Arthur nodded, pulling out and lighting a cigarette. “They worked at Wayne Enterprises. All three of them.”

You rolled your eyes. “That figures.”

Arthur cocked his head to one side. “What do you mean?”

You continued, lowering your voice. “Between you and me, I actually knew one of them. Back when I was still at college. He was a complete asshole, and that’s putting it nicely.” You sighed. “And if I had to guess, those ‘friends’ of his were cut from the exact same cloth. But it looks like he finally picked the wrong person to fuck with. And I can’t say I’m shedding any tears.”

Arthur nodded slowly, taking in your words.

“I’m sorry,” you stopped yourself. “You must think I’m crazy for talking like this.”

“No,” he shook his head. “I don’t think you’re crazy at all.”

“Three less pricks in Gotham City,” you quipped. “Only a million more to go!”

Arthur threw back his head and laughed. You took it as a good sign: despite the traumatic brain injury and the chaotic night you’d shared, his smile still made you go weak at the knees.

🤍🩷 Thanks for reading. Visit my Masterlist for all my Fleck writing, including future chapters of Heartthrob.

[kaysfanficcorner]

Out of This World Chapter 2:  Getting to Know You

Author’s Note: Hey all! Welcome to chapter two. Thank you to everyone who read chapter one! I’ve been excited to share this, so I hope your enjoy!

Summary: The Mandalorian and his new shipmate make their way to a few planets as he hunts for quarries. In the meantime, they start to slowly get to know more about each other and conflicting feelings arise.

Pairing: Din Djarin X Female Earthling Reader

Warnings: Light sexual tension. Light reference to masterbation. Cursing. This story is eventually going to have NSFW scenes so please no one under 18 interact. If you are under age, you are prohibited from this work of fiction. 

AO3

*****

It takes a few weeks for things to fall into a comfortable routine around the Razor Crest, and for you to get your “space legs” as you like to call it. Being a nanny to the child quickly becomes a second nature to you. You’ve started to learn his moods, his habits, what makes him giggle or cry. You spend your days catering to the baby’s every whim, and you’re absolutely in heaven. He’s a curious little boy and if you’re not watching him all the time he tends to get himself into mischief, yet even so you can’t help but feel he’s one of the very best children you’ve ever been hired to watch. Perhaps you’re biased because of how stinking cute he really is, but he’s genuinely just a sweet little being in need of the same love and attention that any child of any species needs in order to grow up happily.

The Mandalorian turns out to have more of a personality under that helmet of his than you’d originally expected him to, and he’s more of a hands on father than you’re used to dealing with. Most of the kids you’ve watched in the past came from slightly toxic homes, much like the one you grew up in, and you’ve usually been the one responsible for fulfilling those absent parental needs where you were able.

The Mandalorian, however, spends every moment that he’s not flying the ship, using the fresher, hunting, or sleeping, to try and pay any attention he can to the kid. He may not know what he’s doing sometimes, but it’s undeniable that Mando is a really good foster dad. He truly has the natural instincts of a father.

So far, there’s been a single stop on one planet for Mando to hunt the first quarry on his list. The hunt only takes three days, but the planet is deemed entirely too dangerous for you and the kid to be left without supervision, so the two of you stay behind with Jupiter on the tightly locked up Razor Crest.

From your view of it up in the cockpit, you can see that the sky of this planet is a swirling mixture of navy blue and bright purple, even during the day. At night there are not one, but four moons. One of which is so close to the planet itself, that a majority of the lower half of the sky is taken up by its cratered, blue-green surface. It’s truly a sight to behold for your Earthling mind. Aside from that, the forest of dark blue, almost black piney looking trees is relatively quiet aside from the odd looking bird or animal that passes by.

You only go slightly stir crazy in that seventy-two hours. You and the kid try your best to patiently wait for the bounty hunter to return, but the little guy gets somewhat restless without the presence of his dad and you miss having another adult to talk to. Eventually you do manage to learn that the kid likes your taste in music, and that he’s completely enthralled by it when you do yoga. He even learns to mimic a few of the easier poses, which is probably one of the cutest things you’ve ever seen.

His big eyes closed as he sticks his arms out in warrior pose, is a sight to behold.

“Mental note,” you say to yourself out loud as you fiddle around with painting your nails at the beginning of the third day, “get Mando to bring us some arts and crafts supplies. Maybe the kid would like making things.”

In the background, a soft techno song is playing and the kid is bobbing his little head to the beat while the cat tries to knock a few things over.

Once the Mandalorian does return a few hours later, slightly bloodied but no worse for wear, you finally get to learn what carbonite is. He shows you how he freezes the bounty alive in a block of the gross looking stuff. The poor bith, a bug-like creature to say the least, is stuck with a look of terror in its gigantic eyes. This process can apparently cause hibernation sickness which results in weakness, dehydration, dizziness, memory loss, and temporary blindness.

“That’s horrifying,” you emphasize with a hand on your chest. The kid, who is cradled in your other arm, apparently disagrees and practically claps his hands at the foggy sight of the freezing process.

“Beats having to make conversation with a criminal,” Mando responds with a small shrug, “the ones I bring in warm usually never shut up.”

Mando shows you that he brought back a fair amount of fresh food from the local market just as you’d requested. Several exotic fruits and vegetables you’ve never seen before but are excited to try. One fruit in particular seems the most enticing, mostly because Mando tells you it’s one of his personal favorites. He also informs you that he asked around about any sort of black hole phenomenon, but was mostly met with incredulity from the locals.

After getting cleaned up and changing his clothes, the Mandalorian allows you a few hours on the outside of the ship so you and the kid can get some fresh air while charging the iPad. The bounty hunter sits with his back against a tree trunk as he keeps a close eye on your attempt to get the kid to exert some of his energy, but after awhile you’re willing to bet that Mando falls asleep for about forty minutes.

When he eventually wakes up, he stands and makes his way over to where you’re laying in the grass with the kid sleeping on your stomach.

“Hey,” you say with a smile up at him. The sunlight bounces off of his helmet and blinds you for a moment before his head moves to block the sun from your eyes entirely.

“Hi,” he says back, holding a hand out to you, “Let him rest for a little while and let me show you something.”

Careful not to wake him, you gently move the baby off of you and take the offered hand. He pulls you up with ease, as if you weigh the same as the kid, and that’s the first time you realize how strong he really is.

Then he hands you a blaster. You look down at it with skepticism, before looking back up to the man with curious eyes.

He answers your unspoken question, “I’d like to teach you how to use this. For now, I want to see how well you can shoot. We’re going to start off easy and work our way up from there. When we have some down time later, I’d also like to teach you how to properly clean it and care for it. These weapons are useful, but if you don’t know your way around it then you’re just endangering yourself and others. Do you understand?”

You nod, wanting to take this new level of trust that he’s extending to you very seriously. “I understand. Thank you for trusting me.”

He nods in return, “Try not to make me regret it. Hold the blaster how you think you should and show me your stance.”

You’ve never shot a firearm before, so after pulling from your memories of what you’ve seen in action movies, you spread your legs slightly and hold it out in front of you with both hands. Your right hand is holding the blaster itself, with your finger on the trigger, and your left hand is steadying your arm.

The Mandalorian makes a clicking sound with his tongue, “Not terrible, honestly. But you need to fix your footing. Like this.”

He shows you with his own feet and you mimic him. When he’s pleased with how you look, he comes to move behind you. His body is so close to yours that it’s distracting, but you try to focus as he keeps going. Your insides are squirming feeling him this near to you.

“You never want your finger on the trigger unless you’re about to take the shot. Keep it elongated down the side, so you can slip the finger in an pull the trigger in a moments notice.” As he says this and you comply, his arms circle around you and he adjusts your elbows slightly.

Your hands begin to sweat horribly.

“Much better,” he says, taking a few steps back to observe you. You miss the physical presence of him as soon as it’s gone.

“So not a lost cause?” You ask, trying your best to hold the pose he left you in.

“Not a lost cause,” he agrees, “Why don’t you try firing at that tree?” He points to one that’s a few yards away.

You slip your finger into the trigger and pull. There’s a soft click but nothing happens. “Did I mess this up already?” You ask.

“No, I wanted to see if you would remember that the safety is on.” He replies, there’s a hint of a smirk in his voice and you narrow your eyes at him.

“That was a cheap trick,” you say with a huff. It feels slightly like he’s picking on you and your shoulders slump a little.

“I didn’t meant anything by it, I just wanted to test you. There’s no harm in having a gap in your knowledge. All that matters is the willingness to expand it.” He shows you how to turn the safety off, and steps back again. “Sorry, I wont do that again.”

“I forgive you,” you reply with a little more confidence in your voice and you take the shot. A bright blast of red goes flying into the thick woods and you watch as it disappears into the tree line.

“Try again, you can go until you make the shot. Don’t hold your breath and keep both eyes open.” He moves to lean against the tree a few yards away from you so he can keep an eye on both you and the sleeping kid.

About fifteen minutes later, you hit the tree trunk dead on. A cheer erupts from you and you do a little victory dance. You’re sure you can hear a low chuckle coming from within the beskar of Mando’s helmet, and he claps his hands in applause.

“Congratulations,” he says, “You’ll be taking down Storm Troopers in no time.”

You turn the safety back on and look at him with a raised eyebrow, “What’s a Storm Trooper?”

*****

It’s probably another few weeks of space travel, with the occasional fuel stop at a star port and a trip to an aquatic planet for another quarry, before you’re finally ready to admit to yourself just how attracted to the Mandalorian you really are. There’s no use in denying it. You felt the initial spark of attraction for him when you’d met on Nevarro, and that fire has only burned brighter every day that you’ve lived on his ship and nannied his child. Will you act on this attraction? That’s an entirely different matter all together. It’s one thing to harbor a crush, its another to act drastically just because you’re a horny mess around him and it only seems to be getting worse.

You’re attracted to a man who you cannot, and will very likely never, look into the eyes of. A man you can’t actually see, nor do you know his age or true name. What a trip.

At first you try to chalk it up to cabin fever, to being cooped up inside with only him, the baby, and the cat. Then he’ll go and do something like clean his blaster in front of you or polish the jet pack, and the sight of the cosmic gunslinger sends thrills of need through your deprived core.

The things that his lovely baritone voice can do to your body should be considered sacrilegious in every imaginable sense of the word. He’ll suddenly break a comfortable silence between you to ask you if the kid’s taken a nap yet that day or a random question about Earth, and its enough to make your mouth begin water before you’re able to answer. Enough to make you have to bite down on your left knuckles in order to prevent yourself from making obscene noises as you touch yourself later on that night in the fresher, imagining all of the dirty, depraved things you’d like to hear that voice of his whisper in your ear.

Your natural scent has pretty much taken over the cot at this point, but that first glorious week of sleeping on the ship had been insatiable. The smell of him had been on every inch of the thing. As far as you’re concerned, the sweaty, natural musk of the Mandalorian could be bottled up and sold by Gucci himself and no one would ever question it. It’s a heavenly aroma to say the least.

His persona is strong and masculine on the surface, which is initially what attracts you to him in the first place. There is another part of him though, one you’re slowly getting to see more and more of during your time together. It’s this slightly more relaxed side that only comes out when its just your little group whirling through hyperspace, that’s what is truly starting to do you in.

The only way you can really describe it, is that he’s gotten used to you being around enough that he’s begun to let his guard down a little in front of you. Not by much, but enough for you to notice.

His shoulders will flex beneath the armor as he reaches his arms up over his head to stretch mindlessly, sometimes a yawn escaping through the modulator. He’ll curse more in front of you if the kid’s not around. Words you understand, and some you don’t at all. The tone of a curse being unmistakable behind the odd phrases regardless. You’ll catch him sitting up in the cockpit every now and then, allowing Jupiter to sleep in his lap while he flies the ship. He seems to like her just as much as she likes him, or at the very least he doesn’t push her down when she jumps up to rub her head lovingly into his chest or knead at his armor plated thighs.

When he’d laughed at your joke back on Nevarro? That had only been the beginning. Mando doesn’t crack many jokes of his own, but this doesn’t stop him from chuckling at most of yours. His sense of humor is hidden under that helmet somewhere, and nothing makes you feel more accomplished than getting a miniature laugh out of him. It’s never a robust or boisterous sound, but low and hearty.

The kid will suddenly reach for Mando to hold him while in your arms and you’ll pass him over, the openly tender moments shared between unlikely foster father and son pulling effortlessly at your heartstrings. You’ve become endeared to this duo whether you’ve asked to be or not, and when Mando is in the room its all you can do not to act like a smiling, giddy mess.

The attraction you feel towards him is undeniable and strong, even without the luxury of being able to see his face. He could be the phantom of the opera inside that thing for all you know, but still the infatuation persists.

But above all else, you’re really starting to consider Mando to be your friend. That might be the most attractive thing about him.

Trying to keep these desires and feelings shoved deep down is becoming the biggest struggle of all, though. The urge to reach out and brush a hand over his forearm will overpower you, and you’ll catch yourself a moment away from your fingers stretching out towards him before clenching your fist up tightly at your side. There are two sides of your personality endlessly battling your will to ignore him in every instance.

You’ve always been a hopeless romantic, never truly content to wade through life by yourself. In the past, on Earth, this never worked in your favor with the opposite sex. Every chance at romance a failed travesty. You constantly long for the comfort of another person’s body pressed tightly against yours. You yearn to have the affection and attention showered upon you which you rarely received as a child, but with the intention to return that affection tenfold. You wish to have a friend by your side to share your life with. You want a true partner, someone to take care of you as you take care of him. As a natural caregiver from a broken home, you’ve always longed to have a family you can nurture and love freely as your own. A family entirely of your making, comprised of people you trust and respect.

Apparently for most guys this had been “too much”, leaving you to float in and out of uncomfortable situations with foolish men not worth half of your time. Not even sexually.

Embarrassingly, you’ve never slept with anyone who had the ability to make you reach an orgasm. You used to blame yourself, thinking that your self-consciousness was causing your body to freeze up in the presence of another. But as the years went on and your confidence in the bedroom grew, you’ve still never found a partner to achieve this triumph over your body. Because of this, you’ve also never been able to create a deep enough sexual connection with another person for any relationships to even stand a chance. Sex is one of your favorite things in the world, but you’ve never actually been able to enjoy it in the way you need to most.

You can’t help but think that Mando knows his way around a woman’s body, and your secret, almost nightly fantasies of him finally fixing this long standing problem for you are absolutely maddening.

And so the two sides of you wage war with one another daily. Some days you just want the Mandalorian to throw you up against the ship’s wall and fuck you until you don’t know your own name, and others you find yourself thinking that you want two of you to take the kid for a nice scenic hike should you stop on a good planet for it. You walk a very fine line between debaucherous wretch and hopeless romantic.

The fact remains, however, that you are still completely out of place in this galaxy. Your eventual departure and the eventual departure of the kid are the two main reasons that you usually force this silly, frivolous way of thinking aside. Both of you are temporary passengers on Mando’s ship, and you know that you’re already in far too deep with how attached you are to the kid. The day he leaves the Razor Crest, should that happen during your time on it, will very likely rip your heart completely in half. And you know damn well you will be just as broken-hearted if you are the one to leave first. Odds are things are bound to go back to normal for everyone on board the ship at some point, and getting attached to the Mandalorian on top of it is only asking for more trouble than you think you’re prepared to handle.

This, on top of the fact that he’s very clearly a private person to begin with, is why you stop yourself every single time you feel the urge to ask him something about himself.  No matter how badly your curiosity wants to take over, you shove it deep down inside just like the rest of your infatuation with him. Besides, its not like he’d be able to answer questions like, “Hey Mando, what’s your favorite pizza topping?” The bounty hunter wouldn’t know what a pizza was if you made one for him yourself in the poor excuse of a galley.

Fuck. Now you could kill for a pizza.

*****

Similarly, Din is harboring struggles of his own behind that beskar helmet of his. Particularly in regards to the fact that you don’t ask him anything about himself. Ever. You are quite literally the most curious person Din has ever met, asking him various questions almost daily.

“How does the hyperdrive actually work?”

“Hey Mando, is the next quarry a human or some other kind of species?”

“What did this one do to end up with on a bounty on him?”

“Mando, what planet in this galaxy has the most moons? Mine only had one. It’s so cool to see multiple moons in the night sky like on that first planet. I’d love to see like six all at once.”

“What language do they speak here?”

Din is always willing to answer you, never once denying you the information you seek about the galaxy you now reside in. He never talks down to you or tries to make you feel foolish for asking, but instead tries to explain what he can to the best of his ability. The galaxy can be dangerous, life in space can be dangerous, and the more you know about your surroundings, the less Din needs to worry about you getting yourself into trouble.

One would think that this eventually gets old for Din Djarin, but it’s quite the contrary. It should annoy him. Really, it should. Yet it doesn’t. Your questions don’t pester him in the slightest. He enjoys answering you, getting to share his knowledge of the universe with you. It’s never a constant thing, and you never bombard him with too much of it all at once. Your queries are never anything other than thoughtful, drawing from a place of respect.

It usually only happens when you come across something you genuinely don’t understand, when you’ll look up at Din with those big, bright eyes filled with mystified splendor. He’s powerless not to answer you when you look at him like that. Din can’t help but find you beautiful, your sense of childlike wonder adding an extra layer of softness to your already impossibly exquisite features. It’s that same childlike wonder that also allows Din to see things that he’s always taken for granted in a new light.

He is not without questions of his own, however. Whenever you say, do, or wear something from your home world, Din cannot help but ask you about it. This planet, this Earth, you’re from seems to be just about the strangest place in the universe, and Din has seen some strange things in his heyday. The cultural differences alone are beyond him, let alone the primitive technology he’s seen you tote around the ship connected by a short wire to little white buds in your ears which you call “headphones”. He’s still getting used to the way you speak, the odd phrases you constantly spout off, but you’re usually able to get your point across to him. Din’s own growing curiosity about you is beginning to be somewhat uncontrollable.

Din is starting to consider you a friend worth getting to know.

Which is why it bothers him once he starts to realize that the one thing you’ve never asked him a single question about is himself. He’s not stupid, it doesn’t take long for him to figure it out. He’s even sure he’s caught you stop yourself from saying something to him on more than one occasion, and its nagged at him for several days after.

He knows how thankful he should be that you’ve never once pried into his personal life, but for whatever reason Din wants you to pry. Even though Din is ever the sensible and logical man, and he knows that it shouldn’t effect him in the slightest, it really, truly bothers him. Drives him slightly crazy, even. You’ve lived on the ship for a full month now, and still you ask about every kriffing thing in the galaxy besides him.

Din lets this whole thing go for another few weeks, as long as he possibly can, until he finally decides to stop driving himself mad and just put an end to it once and for all.

But in the meantime, his attraction to you grows.

The Way has no restrictions on sensuality despite the popular opinion of most beings. It’s simply seen by his people as a means to an end. A necessary aspect of life that, if not properly addressed, causes distraction and sloppiness. Both things that a warrior cannot afford, for his or her very life depends on the ability to focus in the face of battle.

Though the culture heavily consists of foundlings and there is very little need to procreate, most adult Mandalorians do eventually take another Mandalorian as a mate. If not simply as a way to deal with these natural urges effectively and for companionship. Din did have an adolescent fixation with one of the older girls in The Tribe, early on in his days with the Mandalorians, but even that had been fleeting. There is no denying that Mandalorian women are all beautiful in their own right. Strong, independent women whom Din would trust in battle without a second thought.

Hypocritically and embarrassingly, however, Din has never been able to bring himself to be attracted to another Mandalorian enough to see past the beskar helmet. This fact has always caused a deep sense of guilt within him, and a small amount of shame. It should be considered to be an honor to have a woman of such caliber at his side, but that’s not what Din most craves late at night when he’s taking care of himself in private.

No, Din wants to see gorgeous, thick hair that his fingers can get tangled in. He wants to see beautiful, lust filled eyes looking up at him with need. Those same eyes slipping closed as breathtaking facial features contort in moments of pure ecstasy brought on by his touch and his alone. Din doesn’t want the rough hands of a warrior on his bare skin, but the gentle and comforting caress of silky, delicate fingers. Soft lips grazing his neck.

Din also secretly craves to be completely nurtured by someone, to be taken care of in a way that he never has before.

Mandalorian women cannot provide these things for Din, and he cannot expect someone to be only ever be attracted to his helmet if he can’t find one attractive on someone else. He can’t even provide a potential partner with a kiss, one the simplest pleasures in the galaxy. Din’s lips have not touched another person’s flesh since he swore the oath and placed the beskar upon his young head. He’s not even sure he remembers how to do it. This is one of the many things that has always gotten in the way when it comes to women, so in recent years he’s resolved to not even bother anymore. Din Djarin is prepared to go it alone until the bitter end.

When your eyes meet his though? Even with a barrier of beskar between the two of you, the way you look up at him with such admiration in your eyes throws him for a loop nearly every time. That old way of thinking begins to melt away. Perhaps Din doesn’t want to go it alone, not all the time at least.  

But... you’re inevitably going to leave. If you can find a way back to your bizarre home planet, you’re going to go and Din will likely never see you again. Just like the kid will leave him one day too. So he resolves to shove his growing desire for you so far down that he cannot feel it anymore. He’s convinced himself that he can be numb to it just like all the other times he’s had to be, until he eventually forgets about it all together and moves on with his miserable life.

*****

It’s another normal, uneventful evening in space. You’re sitting on an overturned crate, bouncing the kid up and down on one knee while Din is preparing something to eat for the three of you. This has been the unspoken evening ritual for the better part of your time on the ship, since the evening when you happened to walk in on Din attempting to keep the kid and the cat from playing too roughly with one another on top of trying to make food. He’d been obviously flustered and overwhelmed by the situation, but wouldn’t ask you for help. So you had just scooped the kid up, stroked the cat on the head, and silently pulled up a crate. He’s never once requested it, but you’ve done it every single night since.  

Both of you secretly love this routine. In fact, if he is to be completely honest with himself, its Din’s favorite part of the day. Cooking a hot meal for the group a is such a simple thing, but more and more it begins to feel so... domestic. More domestic than anything Din has experienced since being a child, well before he became a foundling and subsequently a Mandalorian. It dredges up very early, blurry memories of Din on his own father’s knee while his mother makes their supper. The roles are reversed here, but the sight of his foster son sitting happily in your lap as he fixes dinner is enough to create a steady warmth to grow beneath his beskar chest plate, and he’s beginning to have a hard time trying to push it away.

As for you, at first this had been frustrating. On Earth you considered yourself to be an excellent cook, but out in the galaxy you have no idea what you’re doing when it comes to food. You miss Earth food a great deal, but its undeniable that Mando is culinarily talented. Even with the meager ingredients he’s able to pull together, he somehow always manages to come up with something far more delicious than anything you’ve been able to pull off. The kid also seems to agree, usually trying to clamber his way up to sneak more servings for himself even if he’s already had several to begin with. Food could have easily been a necessity for survival, not something Mando ever sought to take pleasure out of. You’re immensely glad that’s not the way he sees it. Usually your mouth waters at the mere thought of his cooking.

On this particular evening, you’re standing next to the Mandalorian rather than sitting on your crate. The kid is being bounced on your hip with the little silver ball he likes to steal from the cockpit. Mando has pretty much given up on taking it away at this point. The kid is holding it up to show it to his father, while saying something he clearly feels very strongly about in his nonsensical language of bubbling toddler-speak.

Din’s head tilts down from watching you bounce the child, to watch his son “talk” to him instead.

“Really?” Din says genuinely down to him in response, making an exaggerated face in spite of the kid not actually being able to see it, “You don’t say.” The little green boy smiles and coos back in delight. Din enjoys this mindless baby banter, but finds himself wondering out loud, “I wonder when you’re going to start talking, kid. It’d be nice to know what you’re saying one of these days.”

“How old is he anyway?” You ask, not looking up from the baby wiggling around in your arms.

Din responds immediately, almost casually, “He’s 50 years old. That’s why I took the bounty on him in the first place, I had no idea he was a kid.”

You turn your head up so fast that you’re sure you hear a bone in your neck crack, “50?! How is that even possible?” Your eyes scan over the tiny green thing and you can’t possibly fathom it.

“His species lives a lot longer than ours. He’s still considered to be an infant regardless of his age. This little womp rat here will probably live to be hundreds of years old,” Din explains, gently poking a finger on the child’s head.

You laugh then, shaking your head back down to the child on your hip. “And you can’t talk yet, nor can you wipe your own ass? You’re lucky you’re so adorable, little green bean.”

As Mando turns back to put the finishing touches on the meal, you keep your head tilted so that you can look at him from the corner of your eye. It isn’t lost on you that he’d called it “our” species, referring to the both of you being human. In a rare moment of feeling cocksure, you suddenly say, “So you’re a human under there after all, huh Mando?”

Din’s head jerks over to look at you, his eyebrows raising beneath the helmet. Still not really a proper question about him, but it’s formed enough like one to get his attention.

“What species did you think I was?” He counters seriously.

“That was a joke,” you say, suddenly feeling awkward. You worry that you’ve irritated him now, so your attitude becomes slightly dismissive as you turn to face away from him. “I figured you’re human, or at least humanoid. You’ve got five fingers on each hand,” you say nothing more on the subject.

Because your back is to him, Din’s eyes cannot help but land on your nice, firm backside. Truth be told... his eyes, deep brown and lusty beneath the beskar, do that a lot more than he’d readily admit. You’re wearing a black pair of what you’d once called “yoga pants” and they are... distracting to say the least.

Din curses lowly under his breath, vexed with your reluctance to talk to him about himself. He starts to play into it like he always does, pushing his irritation to the side and letting it go, telling himself its ultimately for the best not to get too close. But then you shift your footing and he watches as your ass shifts with it, rippling over to the left with the lightest of jiggles. Something within him shifts as well, and Din decides right then and there to just get the hell on with it. He sets the cooking utensils down and reduces the heat, before moving towards you.

You’re fully aware of every movement behind you without needing to turn around. You can sense Mando turning the heat on the food down before coming towards you. When you feel the height of him just a foot or so behind you, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. The warm sensation returns low down in your belly, and your palms begin to moisten slightly. You’re not sure whether to face him or not. Deciding on the latter, you keep your back to him.

His modulated voice hovers about six or so inches above your head, “Why is it that you never ask me anything?”

That warmth in your belly becomes a steady heat at the sound of his voice. Squashing that down as best as you can, you sit the kid down on the floor and spin back around to face him. You’re very used to speaking to the helmet by now, and you see yourself raise an eyebrow in its reflective surface. You’d heard the way he’d asked it, but you decide to play dumb, “I ask you stuff all the time, Mando. I just asked about the kid a second ago! Sometimes I worry that it’s actually annoying.”

“If it was constant it would be,” he says honestly, head tilting ever so slightly to the right as his forearms cross just over his abdomen. “But, no. Not annoying. I know how... different this galaxy is for you, and it is a dangerous place. The more you know, the less I have to worry about saving your ass from something you could have prevented yourself.”

That head tilt to the right is most certainly a sign of him smirking under there, you’re willing to bet your Bowie t-shirt on it. And your knees wobble a little at the sound of his voice making a passing mention of your ass. If only he knew how deeply your depravity ran, of the things you’ve fantasized about him doing to your ass.

Face flushed, you force yourself to recover, “So what’s the deal then, chrome dome?”

He retorts evenly with, “You ask me about everything under the stars aside from, well, me. I’d like to know why.”

That’s not really what you’d expected at all, and it leaves you floored for a quick moment. So he noticed how hard you’d been trying to avoid that particular subject after all. You think about it earnestly before looking right in the visor, once again hitting your mark without even knowing it.

“You’re obviously a very private person,” you say, gesturing up to the helmet, “I may not understand that, but I can respect it. It would be wildly inappropriate for me to bombard you with personal questions. I’m your guest and since I may very well never find a way to make it back to my home world, I’d rather not overstay my welcome on this ship too quickly.”

Din’s head doesn’t move, but his shoulders soften slightly. “That’s...” he trails off, considering what he’s about to say next, “kind of you, to respect my privacy. I appreciate it, but you don’t have to be afraid to ask. You’re a curious woman, so I’m sure you have your questions. If you get too personal or if you do bother me too much at once, then I reserve the right not to answer you.”

You look up at him through thick lashes while your parted lips form into a small, shy grin. Din feels it then, something that had been long dormant within him before the day you came into his life. Pure, unadulterated, desire.

It stirs low inside of him like one of Nevarro’s lava pits, boiling steadily and beginning to crack at his once steely reserve. This is certainly not the first time a reaction like this has spurred within him, but this is by far some of the strongest attraction he’s ever felt towards another person. Din’s had a handful of encounters with women of various species over the years, and perhaps even felt a substantial sense of attraction to a few of them in his younger days, but never anything nearly so powerful as the aching, desperate need he feels when he looks down at you.

Then you reach your hand out towards him, towards the beskar pauldron on his right shoulder and your mouth opens as if to begin speaking. He quickly assumes that you’re about to ask him about the armor itself, what it’s made of. Technically still not an actual question about him. Downtrodden and genuinely disappointed, Din begins to prepare himself to begrudgingly explain the beskar to you, until you bypass the pauldron itself to trace a tentative finger over the signet there instead.

You delicately run the tip of your index finger over the mudhorn skull, looking up at him to meet the visor with that look of wonder Din is so powerless against. He might as well be tossed into a sarlacc pit right in that moment. He’s done for, even if he doesn’t realize it yet.

“What’s this represent?” You ask softly, running your finger up the length of the long horn. “I’ve wondered about it since we met. I can tell it’s the skull of an animal, but does it mean something special to you?” You chuckle a little, casting your eyes down to the symbol again, “We have an animal that kind of looks like this on Earth. It also has a horn on the end of its snout but not quite so huge. It’s called a rhinoceros.”

“Rhinoceros,” Din repeats the foreign word slowly, stumbling over some of the pronunciation. What an odd name for an animal.

You laugh brightly at hearing the word on his tongue, grinning up at him, “Rhino for short. I assume that this thing is probably gigantic in comparison to the thing on Earth, just like a lot of things in this galaxy seem to be.”

“It’s called a mudhorn,” he says simply after letting you ramble, “I had to kill one in battle, so it became my signet. My clan insignia, clan Mudhorn.”

You feel a pit in the bottom of your stomach form at that. If clan means the same thing out here as it does back on Earth, then he’s referring to his family. Does Mando have some family back on some planet that he’s never mentioned? Swallowing the lump in your dry throat, and though the childish part of you doesn't even want to know the answer, you ask him, “How many people are in your clan?”

But then Mando scoops the kid up as the little bugger runs between the two of you, and the helmet again fixes on you as he says, “Just two.”

Your heart just about turns to pudding within your chest right there. It’s all you can do not to clutch a hand to your collarbone and make a noise of endearment. The kid is truly all the Mandalorian has in this world? And one day he’ll inevitably have to give the green toddler up if they ever find his own kind? The muscle pumping blood through your body both swells and breaks for Mando all at once.

Deciding not to press your luck and that one question is enough for now, you’re satisfied with this new information about your mysterious cosmic companion for the time being.

But then he surprises you by saying, “If you’d like to join me up in the cockpit after I take my meal, I could tell you more about it.”

You’re sure the surprise is evident on your face, but you smile regardless, “I’d like that,” is all you can say.

No one speaks after that. He portions out a bowl of food for the three of you and hands you yours, making you feel nervous as your hand brushes against his glove. You thank him for dinner and he nods in a silent welcome before quickly making his way up to the cockpit. You’re a giddy mess as you scramble to deposit a protein pack in Jupiter’s bowl and situate yourself with the kid to eat your own meals. You’re so wound up that you barely want to eat, but force yourself to do so anyway. You let the kid have what you can’t finish.

Up in the cockpit the helmet drops to the ground with a loud thunk before he’s even in his seat. Din has never eaten so quickly in his life.

Within five minutes he’s calling down to you that you can come up when you’re ready, and in a gesture you know all too well at this point, his gloves appear from the opening in the ceiling for the kid. He passes his empty bowl down, and you thank him for supper as you then pass the kid up to him in exchange. You have to excuse yourself to the fresher to pull yourself together before joining them upstairs.

When you eventually do make your way up to the cockpit, you take your usual seat behind and to the left of the Mandalorian. He turns the pilot’s seat to face you while the kid sits in the other passenger seat, too happily occupied by the silver ball to notice the adults’ growing tension in the tiny control room. Mando could be making stupid faces under that thing for all you know, but you’re willing to bet he’s fixing you with some sort of serious look. It causes you to squirm in your seat, flushing as you look away from him shyly.

Even on Earth, there had never been a single, solitary man who had this much of an inaugural effect on you. Mando’s got steady a hold over you already, and you’re pretty sure you’re reaching that point of being willing to do literally anything to be close to him. You suddenly find yourself desperately wanting to take care of him in some way, to show some sort of affection in the way you know best.

“Would you like to hear about the mudhorn?” Din asks, looking from you to the kid. Does he want to tell you the truth about the kid? Din’s pretty sure he can trust that you are who you say you are at this point, and that you harbor no secret ill will towards the child. You’re not going to suddenly turn him in to the Empire. Hell, you probably still don’t even understand what the Empire used to be, let alone what the shambles of it are now.

When he looks back to you, you nod in the affirmative, “Only if you want to tell me.”

You’re surprised by his willingness to tell you this story, and you’re equally surprised by how long he makes the act of telling it. Mando is a man a few words generally, and this is the most you’ve heard him use his handsome sounding voice in one sitting since the two of you met. Usually you’re the one doing the talking, telling long winded stories. But because he is a man of few words Mando chooses them very carefully, and so he’s able to paint a fairly clear picture in your head of the events which led to the mudhorn. Kuill and the blurrgs. Finding the kid, returning to the Razor Crest to find it scrapped by Jawas, chasing said Jawas down and having them demand the egg of a mudhorn in return for the ship’s parts. Then he tells you about getting his ass handed to him by the mama mudhorn, nearly dying in the process, before the kid saved him.

“What do you mean the kid saved you?” You ask, incredulously looking over at the toddler as he still continues to suck on the silver ball and babble to himself. “Is that some kind of metaphor for, like, what you were missing in your life?”

“What? No, not like that.” Din says with a shake of the head, though something in your words rings true for him in the back of his mind. “The kid, he can do things. Has... abilities.”

Again you look to the child, and your jaw drops open, “Like he’s got superpowers? You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”

“Hey, watch the language in front of the kid,” Mando says sternly, “He can do things with his mind. You need to know about it incase he ever does it in front of you. Usually it’s a defensive thing, but I’ve also seen him use it to cause trouble.”

You gloss over the thing about the kid for a moment, focusing instead on the light scolding you’d just received. He hadn’t been rude about it, in fact the dad-like way he’d said it makes you smile. “I thought you guys don’t even have that word in basic,” you say, laughing.

“You say it enough that I was able to gather it’s inappropriate nature from the connotation in which you use it. What does it mean, anyway?” He asks, curious.

Embarrassed slightly, and not wanting to think about the way you’d love to hear him say that particular word to you, you shake your head. “That’s an adults-only explanation... So back to the little superhero over there?”

“That’s all. He used his magic powers or whatever they are to stop the mudhorn from charging me, and I was able to kill it. We retrieved the egg, and I got my parts back.” Mando replies, and you still can’t wrap your head around that tiny thing having abilities.

It’s not that you don’t believe it. You’ve been sucked through a man-made black hole in your grandfather’s basement and ended up stranded billions of light years away from home. Of course you believe it, you just don’t know how that could come out of something so precious and innocent.

“Well that’s certainly not what I thought you were going to tell me,” you breathe out with a shake of the head, “I’m shocked.”

The Mandalorian actually laughs a little beneath the beskar, “Imagine my shock. That thing was floating off the ground. Poor kid slept for nearly a full day after.”

“Poor fella,” you say, standing to scoop the kid up for an embrace. You begin bouncing him back and forth while making your way to stand beside the pilots seat as Mando turns it back to face forward. “It’s hard work protecting your dad from big, scary mudhorns, huh?” The kid just babbles up at you, and you hand the silver ball over to Mando so it can be screwed back into the shift.

“What happened after that?” You ask, wanting to know everything about him now that you know he’s willing to tell you.

“That’s a story for another time,” Din says while reaching with his right arm to screw the ball in. The injury in his shoulder from the previous week flares up then, causing him to hiss out, “Dank farrik,” under his breath.  

You can’t help yourself, “Language in front of the kid, Mando.”

“I deserve that,” he says, still hissing in pain as he slowly pulls his arm back with a groan, opening and closing his fingers several times.

“I’m kidding. Are you okay?” You ask, genuinely concerned for him.

He nods, “Pulled my shoulder hunting the last quarry. Still sore.”

You set the baby back down on the passenger seat and return to Mando’s side, “That was almost a week ago, are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’ll be fine,” Din says somewhat curtly. He’s had worse.

“Well it doesn’t help that you’ve been sleeping up here for well over a month. That can’t be comfortable,” you suddenly feel incredibly guilty for having taken his bed, “Please take the cot back tonight, I’d hate to see you make it any worse. I’ll find somewhere else.”

“No,” he argues again, “I’ll be fine.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes, “So the men in this galaxy are stubborn too, huh? And here I thought it was just an Earth thing.”

Din doesn't know what to say to that, so he says nothing, which elicits an exasperated sigh from you. He suddenly feels your hand on his right pauldron for the second time that night, but this time it begins to pull. His own hand flies up to catch yours and the helmet snaps up at you while the leather covered fingers around your hand apply a light amount of pressure. This is the most he’s ever touched you.

“What are you doing?” He asks, halting your movements.

“Relax,” you draw out the word, “I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable. You need that shoulder rubbed, and I can’t do that for you with your armor on.” Feeling rather brave, you bend to hover your head beside the helmet, placing both hands on the pauldron and pulling lightly at it again. You drop your voice down an octave, softly saying, “Let me take care of you, Mando.”

Those words again leave Din at a loss for any of his own, and his hand melts back down to his lap. He doesn’t stop you when you pull his pauldron off completely, setting it down carefully on the seat you usually sit in. He lets you do the same to the vambrace on his forearm, using his other hand to help you get it off. His entire right arm suddenly feels so bare without the beskar, in spite of still being covered in layers of clothing.

“Can you take the cloak off too?” You ask nervously. This is quickly becoming uncharted territory.

Din complies, taking he beskar off of his left arm as well before handing all of it over to you. You set everything down so gingerly that Din can sense how much you respect his armor just from the delicate way you handle it. “Thank you. For being so careful with that.”

“Wouldn’t dream of messing it up. What’s this stuff made of anyway? It’s lighter than I expected it to be.”

“Mandalorian beskar. It’s one of the most indestructible substances in the galaxy, and weighs less than most common metals.”

“Like vibrianium! Heh, that’s awesome,” you laugh.

“Let me guess. Earth thing?”

“You got it.”

Din is too lost in the idle conversation to realize how bare he truly is at first, but this is certainly the most exposed he’s ever been around you. As you’ve been talking, everything on his torso aside from the thin, long sleeved undershirt and his gloves have been simultaneously removed and placed in the passenger seat. He finds himself wondering how he suddenly let it come to this.

Maker, it’s been so long since he’s been touched. His stomach is doing strange things inside of his body, his skin tingling all over.

You are similarly wondering the same thing, as you look down and get the tiniest glimpse of skin on the back of his neck. A small sliver of flesh tucked between his shirt collar and the base of the helmet. It appears to be tan, which should suggest that he’s naturally so. You highly doubt he has ever laid half naked in the sun just to vainly darken his skin tone, but that’s a sight you’d surely love to see. That little bit of skin nearly breaks you, but you ignore it.

Coming to stand directly behind the pilot’s seat, you instruct him to lean forward slightly and he complies. Your hands come to rest on either of his shoulders, and you suddenly catch a whiff of that scent from the cot. His scent. You breathe it in, and begin knead in your knuckles into his back. You start in near his spine and push both up and out, when a loud noise that sounds almost pained escapes him. You can see your own surprised expression in the silver reflection on the back of his head, moving your thumbs to rub circles into the base of his neck, just below the exposed patch of skin.

“Are you okay?” You pause to check on him

“Keep going,” he grunts out, and so you do.

You work at his shoulders for a good five minutes, focusing extra attentiveness on the shoulder he’s having trouble with. He makes noises here and there, but other than that you both stay fairly quiet. After you’ve given his shoulder enough attention, you work both of your hands slowly down his right arm. Your thumbs press into the knotted bicep, then the tricep, and Mando’s usually tense body practically liquefies into the seat under your grasp.

“Has anyone ever done this for you?” You ask seriously, making your way now down to his tight forearm.

“No,” Din says after a moment, groaning when you hit a particularly sensitive knot, “Never-gah-had anyone offer.”

“Never? Their loss,” you say, pulling his arm up towards you to stretch it out straight. He lets you guide him easily. “Does your hand hurt as well?”

Mando nods, and without prompting you kneel down beside him to get at a better angle and begin tentatively undoing the strap of his glove. Your fingers stall around his wrist as your eyes meet the visor, wordlessly asking for his permission for what you’re about to do, and he nods again. It hitches in your throat slightly, but you take a deep breath regardless to prepare yourself to cross this next line.

Tugging at the clay colored tips, you begin to gently pull the glove from his hand. The skin revealed beneath the leather is the same tan as the skin on the back of his neck, solidifying your theory that this is a natural occurrence. The knuckles are slightly dry, with small scars resting in between some of the rough peaks of bone and dark hairs dusting the fleshy terrain. The glove falls to his lap as you remove it completely, examining each finger carefully before flipping his hand entirely so you can examine his palm. All the usual lines and finger prints are there, and there’s an old burn scar just below his thumb where his wrist and palm meet. It looks like the initial wound had been a nasty one. You run your own thumb over it and look at the helmet again.

“How did you get this?” You ask.

“Don’t remember. Have so many that I lose track,” he replies.

“You have nice hands,” you say casually, not surprised when he says nothing in return. Instead you make yourself focus on the work, pressing into the palm and making your way up each finger with equal attention to each digit. His thumb pops when you unintentionally pull on it just the right way, and his entire body jerks forward a little.

This goes on for another few moments, until your own hand begins to cramp up on you. You pull it back suddenly, cracking your middle finger with a low hiss before yanking on your own thumb and spinning your wrist a few times.

“You okay?” Mando asks, sitting up slightly to look at you.

“Yeah just my hand cramping. I may need to call it quits,” you say, beginning to pull away before he stops you. For a moment his bare hand is just holding yours, and your mouth begins to severely dry up.

“Wait, let me. This hand?” Mando says, and you simply nod, dumbstruck. He quickly pulls the glove off of his other hand, and begins kneading both of his bare thumbs into your palm. “So soft,” he murmurs to himself, though you can hear him clear as day. Neither of you address it.

“Good grief,” you mutter as he hits the sore spot below your thumb, holding back a moan.

The Mandalorian mimics the same way you had massaged his hand, working his way slowly up each one of your slender fingers until he reaches the painted nails. It’s over in a matter of minutes and you eventually pull your hand back to shake it a few times, wiggling your fingers. When the audacity of what just happened occurs to you, you cannot help but blush. You’re still kneeling down beside Mando, looking up at the helmet bashfully.

“Thank you,” you say, casting your eyes back down to his unconfined hands.

Din doesn’t even consider the next thing he does. Involuntarily, his right hand reaches out to run over your hair, moving some of it out of your face. “Likewise, ner burc’ya.” he says lowly.

Puzzled by hearing him speak what is obviously another language, you look to him for an explanation. “What does that mean?” 

“It’s Mando’a for ‘my friend’,” he says in a tone that brings heat to your cheeks.

Then he pulls away to begin replacing the gloves over his hands. You’re disheartened slightly both that he’s no longer touching you and to see his mesmerizing skin disappear once more. You cannot help the sudden longing you feel to see more of it, and in very particular places.

“How’s your shoulder?” You ask, standing to grab the suddenly tired looking kid and bring him over to the Mandalorian, knowing full well how much Mando likes to hold the kid as he falls asleep. This has never been discussed between you, but you know it to be true.

“Better, still not great,” Din says honestly, reaching for the increasingly sleepy toddler.

“I think you should sleep in the cot tonight,” you insist again, “and I’m not really willing to take no for an answer.”

Din looks up to where you stand beside him, fixing him with a pointed look. He knows it’s probably not worth arguing, and he does miss being able to lay out properly. “What about you?”

You wave him off, “I’ll make due, isn’t that what you said to me? You deserve a good night of sleep too, Mando. Especially if there’s another quarry only two days away.”

Din decides that you have a point, and nods, “Fine. Just for a few hours.”

Your eyes roll unceremoniously, “For fuck’s sake, sleep for as long as you need to.”

*****

As Din climbs into the cot later that night, the smell of you is completely overwhelming. Even with his helmet on, your natural aroma is so distinct. Some of your things are strewn about inside, as you’ve clearly made yourself at home over the past several weeks. There’s the small bottle of that strange black liquid you like to decorate your nails with, as well as a dark purple garment you wear almost daily. You’ve told him it’s called a “hoodie”. Though you’ve managed to make it seem more comfortable with the addition of a pillow and blanket, everyone on the ship is aware that a real bed would be far more preferable.

The kid would usually already be asleep in the hammock above Din’s head by now, but you’d suggested letting him sleep in the pram for the night so that Din could get some sleep of his own without interruption. So once the door slides shut behind him, he’s completely alone. Din normally just sleeps with the helmet on for fear of not wanting to be woken up off guard without it, but something makes him slide the thing off of his head and place it in the storage net hanging on the back wall next to your backpack, soon followed by his gloves. He’s without his boots already and still without the beskar on his torso, all more suggestions of yours. You’d sternly told him you expected him to get as comfortable as possible, and so Din complies with this demand.

Your scent is one of the most wonderful things Din has ever experienced. Without the helmet on, his sense of smell is assaulted by you. He can’t help himself as he lifts the black blanket up to his uncovered face, inhaling as much of you as he possibly can. When his head hits the pillow he also can’t help but to nuzzle his nose into the soft fabric, breathing in your essence as if it is the very oxygen his body needs in order to live.

Din falls asleep clutching your purple hoodie to his chest, while thinking about how soft your hand felt in comparison to his.

When he wakes several hours later, Din takes one last instant to enjoy the aroma around him without the barrier of beskar. His dark eyes slip closed while he savors the moment, before replacing the helmet to its rightful perch on his head and making his way out of the cot to find you and the kid. His boots are waiting for him just outside, so he slips those on as he looks around. There’s no sign of either of you anywhere on the first floor of the ship, not even the cat.  

Din climbs up to the second floor to look for you, the cockpit door sliding open with the usual swishing sound. The overhead lights have been dimmed to nothing, so the only real light is coming from the various illuminated buttons up front. At first he walks in far enough only to notice that the empty pram is in the kid’s usual seat, and his beskar is still where he’d left it in yours. He stops right in his tracks once he gets far enough inside to actually see you, his chest swelling almost painfully at the sight before his eyes.

You’re curled up in the pilot’s seat at an angle that has got to be doing horrendous things to your back, one leg tucked underneath your ass while the other is propped up on an area of the control panel without any actual controls. The kid is sleeping soundly on your chest, his ears turned down in a relaxed position with his head turned to face towards Din’s direction. A green fist is curled up tightly in your shirt, while the kid’s little mouth hangs open and the tiniest bit of drool escapes out the side and onto the fabric.

Also sleeping soundly, you’ve got your head of wild hair leaning back into the seat’s headrest as your own mouth hangs open a little. One arm is draped protectively around the kid, and the other dangles uselessly off the side of the armrest. Din’s cloak is draped around the two of you as a makeshift blanket, and the cat is curled up into a ball of fluff on your lap, just below the kid. One of Jupiter’s tawny eyes opens to look skeptically up at him, before she closes it again and readjusts her sleeping position.

The image of this, the emotions it stirs within him, leaves Din’s head nearly ringing from the intensity of it. This quiet moment of serene hyperspace dancing in the background of his ship, of his home. You, easily most beautiful woman he’s ever met, holding his sleeping child to your breast. His cloak draped around the two of you, almost symbolic of what this little group is slowly beginning to mean to him.

A whisper of a thought begins to prick at the back of his mind then. A dangerous, self destructive thought which can only lead Din Djarin down a path of heartache should he let things get out of hand.

Once he hears his own voice murmur the words inside his head, he realizes that things were already well out of hand when it had only been him and the kid. Now, with the addition of you in the equation, it’s actually becoming quite the complicated situation. Din is now in a very treacherous new land, the thought echoing once more through his mind before he pushes it as far away as he can.

Don’t want them to leave...

*****

Next Chapter

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Masterlist

[azalawa-scroggs]

Hi!! I get to know you cause you fic "Let no one sleep" and omg I love it so much as you can't imagine!!! I'm pretty excited about how the history is going and I was wondering if may I ask you when you're going to upload the last chapter? I don't wanna be rude but I'm really really excited with the end

Hello! Thanks for reading and for your kind words <3 I am glad you're enjoying the story!

First off, the story is already entirely written, so you need not fear being left on that cliffhanger forever! But I still have to go through some edits on chapter 3, which is currently 11.5k words long, so it is taking a little while. And @rendevok is also busy with the last tapestry (which I am so excited to discover you have no idea).

So between all that we're aiming to post for the end of the month. We can't promise anything because life has a way of getting in the way, but that's our goal right now!

Thanks for sticking with us, I hope you enjoy the last chapter of the story when it comes! I can't wait to share it with all of you :D

(For those curious, here is the story in question, as well as the two pieces of art accompanying each chapter :))

Have a snippet in the meantime!

Hours later, the traveller was pacing in his rooms. He was the only one in the city who could have been able to sleep, had he wanted to, but the knot in his stomach was too tight for it. He looked out the window, feeling sick at the sight of the fires that had been started everywhere in the city, their light sharp in the dark of night. From time to time, a clamour rose to his ears, screams of anguish and angry shouts, demands for information that the people it was asked from didn't have any way to know. All because of him. He ran a hand through his hair. He had miscalculated. After three days of taunts, of bloodthirsty proclamations, he still had managed to underestimate the prince's penchant for cruelty. Unfortunately, it was too late to take it back. He was completely helpless. Well, nearly helpless. He was entirely aware that there was a very easy way to stop these people's suffering; but it would mean forfeiting his life, as well. The choice hung above him like a deadly sword. Had it only been his life, he would have surrendered it in a heartbeat. But dying would mean giving up on Prince Miles, leaving him in his cold prison of brutality and misery, and that was something he refused to do. He was more certain than ever that the prince was suffering, and more resolved than ever to free him from it, whatever the cause may be. Part of him wondered where that resolve came from, if his determination not to give up didn't come from cowardice after all. An entire city, for one man... One man he was currently extremely angry with, seeing the terrible things happening outside. He sighed and brushed his hands in the flowing part of his red sash, letting the soft fabric flow between his fingers. Old images flashed in his mind, a pale face haloed by the golden light of the woods, small smiles and discreet laughs, an imperious, annoyed, then amused voice. The memories were as painful as they were soothing. Back then, ten years ago, he had retraced his steps after the prince left in order to go back home. A flash of red had caught his eye down in the bushes where they had tumbled together; upon picking it up he had realised it was the prince's scarf, likely unravelled from his neck in his fall. So he had picked it up, his heart speeding up as he realised it still carried Miles's sweet smell. Wearing it around his own neck had felt too intimate, too personal, and so he had tied it to his waist instead. It was a wordless oath to find his new friend and give the garment back to him. As the years passed, the fabric frayed and paled under the sun, and the traveller knew there could be no giving it back any longer, not in this state. But he kept searching anyway. The scarf, from something to return, had become a token, a symbol of his unyielding dedication. All this time, he had yearned to see that openness again, to glimpse an honest smile on his lips, that brilliant smile that had saved his life... To compare such kindness from a stranger to the cruelty of the ruler he had become was painful. For the first time, he was tempted to burn the sash. “No,” he muttered to himself, grasping at the fragile and worn silk. “I can't give in now. If I win, then nobody else is going to die.” The familiar touch reawakened his courage.

[fang-and-feather]

by  @xxsycamore and @queengiuliettafirstlady

Day 2 - Angels and Demons AU and Day 5 - Forbidden Love AU

Time with You

Ikemen Vampire - Shakespeare x Vincent

This wasn't on my initial plans for this event. It was supposed to be a project for next month, but I was surprisingly inspired and finished this way early - most like got my burst of inspiration interrupted but realized it still fit this event's prompts and thought it complete enough to fit with most of my fics for this event, a small scene of a much bigger project I may or may not write in full in the future.

First time actually writing a M/M fic without, even if background, polyamory (although my first plan was a triad fic with MC that I still plan on writing next month). It had to be an AU as far removed from canon as I could (and yet not enough) but I managed to do it.

This is one of the pairings suggested to me months ago that I never took for a test-drive fic, but this specific instance was inspired by @yanderepuck.

Despite the dramatic prompts this scene is just a short bit of fluff.

Also first time writing Will. Getting him and especially his dialog in character is still a work in progress (especially with how sleepy I was while editing it)...

AO3 Link / IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist

Will looked over at Vincent, who’d fallen asleep snuggled up to him, and combed his fingers through the angel’s golden locks.

Maintaining a physical manifestation like they did required regular rest, which he was sure Vincent hadn’t been getting while he worked on one more of his art projects.

Will was much the same sometimes, when deeply focused on his craft, so he understood.

He enjoyed the simple act of having Vincent by his side like this. Every moment they had together was precious. When had he fallen so helplessly in love?

“To think someone like thee could capture mine heart in such a way. How mine darkened soul craves the warmth of thy light, and I wish to trap thee hither with me, far from these misguided angels.”

Placing a soft kiss on Vincent’s forehead, Will shifted enough to pick him up and carry him to bed. Vincent was slightly taller, but his body was light. But when Will tried to set him down, Vincent woke up.

“Will?” Vincent tried to blink away sleep as he sat up, Will sitting by his aide. He looked around, confused, before realizing where he was. “Oh. I’m sorry, Will. I was the one who visited you, yet I was napping.”

“Rest as thee needeth, Vincent. I don’t mind. I enjoy thy company either way. I wilt head to town and procure some ingredients so we can at least dine together and thee can sleep in the meantime.”

“No.” Vincent shook his head and rubbed his eyes. “I want to go shopping with you. I like when we can go out together. It’s just… sometimes I forget I need rest in this form, so…” Vincent smiled, sheepishly “do you mind if I sleep here with you tonight? I know I’ll rest well then.”

Will pulled Vincent closer and gently brought their foreheads together, then reached to caress his cheek.

“T’would beest mine pleasure to has’t thy company for the remainder of this day, Vincent. Nothing maketh me happier than the time we spendeth together. I would keepeth thee hither still, if only thee would allow me.”

Vincent laughed softly at it. He always did. But Will only spoke the truth.

“Will.” It was Vincent’s turn to touch him. Will always found these touches warm and soothing in ways he never imagined being touched could feel. “You don’t have to fear losing me.”

Will knew. Yet, it still bothered him greatly to know Vincent lived among the lost cases that were the other angels housed by the archangel known among humans as Saint-Germain.

Will had been one of them once. One of the stray angels Saint-Germain hoped to save. But he chose to follow his passions, even if it meant falling from grace.

“I knoweth so.” Or he would make sure so, against all odds. He pulled away and stood up, offering a hand to Vincent. “Shalt we headeth for a pleasant stroll together, then?”

Smiling, Vincent took his hand, lacing their fingers together.

“Of course.”

They would have to let go when they arrived at the city but, until then, they had the carriage ride to enjoy each other’s warmth. And even if they had to pretend to be just friends among humans, it was worth it just to have the other close enough for as long as they could.

IkeVamp Masterlist / General Masterlist

[astaralys]

it is I, simplesnowflake!

I rebranded to astaralys now that I'm shifting into original projects but I'm very much still the same snow sisters supporter. I've just levelled up with an interest in game dev and picked up pixel art as well, so you'll be seeing less frozen content and more me content

you can find me on these places: twitter (listen I am not calling it X): https://twitter.com/astaralys bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/astaralys.bsky.social ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/astaralys I'm part of a studio! have you read our webcomic oneshot, Midnight Hour?: https://www.webtoons.com/en/canvas/midnight-hour/list?title_no=872088

But what's happening with TNU, you ask? I admit I have much less time for fic now but still very much enjoy TNU and hope to see it to completion. It's something that sporadically crosses my mind, and when I reread what I've written, I fall in love with the story all over again. So I pick at it during my commute and lunch breaks. We'll get there slowly!

in the meantime, please enjoy this wip chapter 23 scene join me in my struggle to remember what happened in ch 22, it's been 84 years

As always, thank you so much for following my journey and reading my stories. I really want to finish writing TNU for us, and hope you wouldn't mind sticking around for my foray into original stories beyond that. I've been writing fanfic for over a decade (oof my back ached typing that) and knowing every word I've written has been read and enjoyed by at least one person has made me the writer I am today. Thank you for finding my words!

------

There was nothing quite like the slipperiness of blood. A slickness that smeared and clung to everything and anything, as if it already knew there was no way to return to the veins from which it had gushed. Its new purpose was to stain and horrify. If it could, with its sheer, crimson volume, petrify those that had evicted it from its rightful body, then its existence had purpose. A river, it would become. 

“Your Highness! Are you hurt?” Ronny. A familiar face. An anchor.

“I… y-yes. I mean, no. The… the blood’s not mine.” Kristoff made to get up and slipped. Instead of hitting the marble floor, though, his knee crunched into unmoving flesh. It was a small blessing he hadn’t speared himself on one of the dozen crossbow bolts protruding from the man’s torso like a pincushion. 

Herman dragged him upwards and back, none too gently. “We’ll guard the prince! Make sure these bastards are really dead.”

“Wait—” Bile overtook words. Kristoff dropped to all fours and retched. 

Scattered words swirled around him as his guards waded through the bodies. “—that big talk about their military. These idiots fought like lumps of wood!”

“Any news from the general? Did we manage to intercept their fleet?”

“Still can’t see a thing out there; the fjord’s completely covered in mist after the wall fell. How did they break Princess Elsa’s magic—”

“Forget that! The queen and princess are missing—we need a search party—”

“With what men? We’re already stretched thin as ice—”

Ice. If he’d kept his head down and continued hacking at the frozen tundra and going home to his family of trolls, he wouldn’t be here, crouched in a lake of dark red. Staring at a canopy of death spattered across the hallway like the reaper itself had danced with a conductor’s wand. How easily could he have been one of those bodies splayed out across the same floor Anna always slid down in her socks, laughing and crashing into his arms? Where was Anna? What if she was lying in a ditch somewhere, just like—

“Oi! Got a live one here!”

“You telling me this runt was the commander of this freak show? What, did you use your own soldiers as meat shields? You cowardly little—”

Kristoff looked up to see his men crowded around a huddled figure. If these southerners hadn’t brought swords and bloodlust to Arendelle… if they hadn’t spilled mortality in these sunny halls… 

Don’t be pathetic, Bjorgman. 

“Let me talk to him,” Kristoff rasped. 

“Sir, this scum tried to kill you—”

“Trust me, I’ve noticed.” 

The soldiers quietened. A few stepped away from their quarry, blinking like they had snapped out of a trance. Kristoff knew them all by name, but when they had come to his rescue in a flurry of unforgiving steel, he momentarily couldn’t recognise them. But he recognised himself in their sudden cruelty. They weren’t baying for blood— they were afraid for themselves, their families, their homes. They needed a leader, and Mattias was out the fjord. 

Come on, Lord Regent, he could hear Anna teasing. You’re in charge when I’m gone, remember?

But you’re not gone, Kristoff thought. You’re safe with Elsa somewhere, and you’ll come back to me. 

He rose to his feet. He’d kept his balance on cliffsides and frozen lakes; he could stomach standing on solid ground, nauseatingly slippery as it was. He stopped before the only survivor of the Isles’ ambush party.

“Let’s hear what the crown prince of the Southern Isles has to say. That’s you, right? Jesper Westergaard?”

Spindly shoulders jerked. Bitter memories of another sneering, auburn-haired prince made Kristoff’s fists and jaw tighten. 

“Your father sent you into our tunnels to secure the castle, didn’t he? Bet he didn’t expect us to be waiting for you. He’s probably sitting on the fjord in his big ship, waiting for you to open the gates for him.”

The prince’s sword tinkered on the floor. Herman pushed Kristoff behind him, but Jesper made no move to attack. He only kept his head bowed and rocked slightly on his heels, clenching and unclenching his hand on his sword. Staring down at him, Kristoff realised their adversary was more boy than man.

What would Anna do?

Giving Herman the standby signal, Kristoff knelt down in front of Jesper. “Calm down. Work with us, and no one else needs to get hurt.”

Jesper’s glazed stare remained unerringly fixed on his shoes. Kristoff saw pale lips moving, though. He cautiously leaned in.

“Hurry up hurry up hurry up…”

Kristoff waved a hand in front of the prince’s face. “Hey. Can you hear me?”

“… up hurry up hurry—” The frenetic whispering halted abruptly as Jesper’s head snapped up. Dilated pupils locked on Kristoff’s, swimming in fear and adrenaline and… triumph?

A shiver slithered up Kristoff’s spine. 

Freshly spilled blood could melt snow. Yet it only struck him now, as his soldiers let out shocked cries and whipped out their swords for the second time, that the blood he had been kneeling in was icy enough to chill him to the bone.

Jesper finally met Kristoff’s eyes. He wiped his nose on his sleeve, a wicked smile spreading on his face. “Be a good sport and remember to scream, yeah?”

[syntethizinglove]

DEMO out now

​The demo is finally out! You can download it here

I can’t believe that I not only made a full fledged demo but I even did it for a jam, in three months. This is insane.

To be honest I didn’t have the confidence to even last a week, in the beginning. In the past I tried twice to work on a game but I didn’t even manage to write the story, I just abandoned the projects as soon as the initial excitement wore off. But it was different this time, especially thanks to a friend.

Thanks to the jam’s discord server, I found other people who showed interest in my game and I found some interesting projects as well. Seeing how everyone was working hard really drove me to give it my all.

Of course, despite doing most of the work on my own, I couldn’t have made it without all the other people who supported me either morally or materially (or both) with art, music and translation. The demo may be not “perfect” yet, because it’s still missing some original backgrounds and music or translations, but I will slowly add them to the game with later updates throughout the month of December.

Right now the game is only available in English, but these languages will be added in a few days:

Italian 

Spanish 

Portuguese (BR)

Polish

In the meantime, the translators are also working on these other languages, which will be added as soon as they’re completed:

Russian

Danish

French

Malay

If you can help translate the demo (unpaid, unfortunately) in any other language, please contact me ^^

The game has a discord server where I am managing the development with the other volunteers but if enough people are interested, I may open it to the public! Let me know what you think.

That said, I just want to thank you all and hope you will enjoy the demo~ I will now take a couple of days off (I say, although I’m sure I won’t lol) and then go back to work. There’s still the rest of the game to work on!

[touchoflaughter]

Ok guys I need help- I fucked up completely and I need some really good advice 🥴

So most of you know my classmates by now (I wrote plenty irl stories about them ⟪ part 1, part 2, part 3 ⟫). Summarily: I'm the only girl in this man domain (learning a craft) but I'm getting along really well with the boys. We mess around all the time and have lots of play fights where I manage to whoop most of the guys asses due to my long-lasting experience in martial arts. But lately they discovered a fatal weakness of mine- and they overuse it completely!

GANG TICKLING is the worst

So after New Year's Eve Phil promised me his New Year resolution is to not tease me anymore and I actually believed him (don't ask me how I could be this naive)- so... it didn't even take him 10 minutes to start his poking attacks again, followed by countless more.

That was two days ago. In the meantime he somehow managed to win all the other guys over! His efforts seem to pay off finally...

Let me tell you about only one situations from today: (There are too many actually but this is the worst one so far)

I not only get attacked continual (mostly sneaky and from behind... these cowards) but also had one of our classmates coming up to me, when I tried to fill in an important document. Let's call him Aiden.

His Hands formed claws and an evil smirk appeared on his face. I sighed and shook my head in a defensive way: "Don't! I've had enough." (You gotta now it was 4 pm and I got tickle attacked all damn day. There was no embarrassment left. I lost. I didn't care about my tough facade anymore.) Before he could even answer me, Phil stood up from his desk and was right on the spot (surprise 🙄).

"Oh yeah! You gotta tickle her like this!", Phil showed him a pinching movement with is fingers and grinned. "Wait, let me show you!"

"NO!", I protested insistent.

"Yeah I think you'll have to show me in order for me to get it right.", Aiden played along and smirked at least as much as Phil who came closer quickly.

"Godammit! Don't!", I didn't want to but I had to stand up from my desk to make a few quick steps backwards.

"What's the matter shorty- can't take it?", Phil mocked while Aiden laughed at his teasing. Then he made some quick steps forward so I turned around and ran. Yes, I ran for my dear life. I couldn't take another attack with others watching and enjoying the show!

But I straight bumped into Joey who was working next to me. I tried to at least hide behind him, hoping he'd defend me maybe. We usually get each other in deep shit but if it really matters, we're there for one another.

Not this time obviously- ugh 😩

He turned around and smiled down at me, shaking his head like a disappointed parent whose daughter got in trouble again. Aiden and Phil caught up to us and immediately pounced on me.

"Johehey! Heheeelp!", I screamed helpless and in panic but Joey didn't even took this into consideration.

While Phil went for my ribs at once, Aiden did his best to capture my arms and stop me from breaking free. Joey came to ACTUALLY HELP him so both got a free hand to tickle me. (I'll get him good for this betrayal!!)

IT WAS THE WORST you guys. I couldn't help but laugh and scream and try to shake them off without success. The whole class was literally forced to follow the action. I noticed a few comments but I was too deflected to actually get what they were saying.

But just wait! The most embarrassing part is yet to come: They didn't stop until our teacher entered the room to check on us... only to find us like that:

Three grown men, kneeling on the floor, tickling a young woman to insanity with a bunch of guys standing around them, watching and commenting the scene.

Our teacher seemed to be overburdened by the situation but managed to instruct them to get off of me. He knew we're friends so at least we didn't have to explain it was not a sexual assault but oh god that was one of the most embarrassing moments of my life...

Even after that they did not stop! It seemed they developed a taste for it... to see the good: I got two more days left. Only two more days. Can't get any worse than that, right? Right? 😰

[lostcauses-noregrets]

Hiya lost :)

I was just wondering if you are still writing Orbital? I really loved where the fic was going and its one of my favourite Au's of erwin and levi.

Hope you are well! Love your blog and work

Hiya @generic-fandom-name I'm glad you've been enjoying Orbital and I'm so sorry it's taken me so long to update. I definitely haven't abandoned it, but unfortunately life has been rather all encompassing for the last six months. I also had to put my writing on hold for a while so I could work on the print edition of Cardamom, which will hopefully be out soon, complete with beautiful new cover art by @seitsen-sarvi ♡

The good news is that I have most of the next chapter written. I managed to do some work on it a couple of weeks ago and fingers crossed I'll be able pick it up again later this week. In the meantime, here's a little taster of the next chapter....

“I’m not cut out for this shit,” Levi confessed to Hanji as they left the mission control centre at the end of the second week.  “I don’t know what Smith was thinking when he volunteered me for this job.  I haven’t a fucking clue what I’m doing here.” 

“You’ll be fine,” Hanji reassured him, apparently unconcerned by his apprehension. “Once Smith is back and you’re actually communicating with him, it’ll all fall into place. You’re smart Levi, you can learn the technicalities, but more importantly, you can communicate with your astronaut.  My team will do their best to monitor the astronaut’s mental and physical health, but we need you to understand what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling, when he’s up there alone in that capsule.  We need you to recognize the significance of his tone of voice or speech pattern, to identify and communicate any changes in status that even the astronaut himself might not be aware of.” 

“That’s exactly the fucking problem!” Levi snapped. “I can’t take that kind of responsibility.” 

“Listen Levi,” Hanji continued with uncharacteristic patience. “Erwin chose you for a reason, he clearly believes you’re the best man for the job, you’re the one he’s chosen to trust, you just need to trust him in return.” 

“I guess,” Levi replied disconsolately. 

“Oh, I almost forgot!”  Hanji stopped abruptly, digging into the pocket of their overalls and extracting a crumpled piece of paper.  “I meant to show you this earlier, we got a picture wired from Hizuru yesterday. Look at our boys!”  Hanji did their best to smooth out the crumpled image and held it up for Levi to see.  The three astronauts were standing against a background of thick, tangled foliage, dressed in sweat-darkened singlets and camouflage pants. Zacharias’ beard had grown even fuller and, with his hair hanging over his eyes, his face was almost entirely obscured.  Smith, by contrast, had tied a bandana around his head to keep his hair off his face and was sporting a short dark beard.  Dok simply looked miserable, straggly, and unkempt.

“Jesus,” Levi snorted, “they’ve gone feral.” 

“Good.  Feral is good,” Hanji nodded, their eyes glinting oddly. 

“It is?” 

“Yes, feral creatures know how to survive.”

[deitiesofduat]

DEITIES Update -- October 2022

Hi All! Time for a kinda-spontaneous-but-not-really Project Update, along with the current events of this month -- which is a DEITIES themed OC_Tober + and upcoming Askbox Session!

I understand if this all kinda came out of nowhere, so I'll use this short update to share my plans and any additional context, and I hope it's something to look forward to! More information is under the cut!

——————————

OC_TOBER 2022 PLANS PART 1 of 2 -- DEITIES CAST LINEUP & PROFILES

The gist of my OC_Tober plan this month will be sharing separate profiles and featured art each weekday in a thematic order for the DEITIES Project -- 5 per week, 20 total. These will likely debut on my art twitter first, and then be mirrored on tumblr later the same day.

This is my minimum goal, but I'll gauge my free time if I have the bandwidth to do some extra things for fun -- like any additional new art, meme templates, blog posts on the website, or other nostalgia trips.

The character profiles for tumblr, twitter, and my other media accounts will use a new format that I'm still preparing. Meanwhile, anyone who feels like learning more about the deities can view their full profiles on the project site -- https://deitiesproject.com/characters

Fullbody Lineup (Tumblr) -- https://deitiesofduat.tumblr.com/post/696945815967694848/hi-everyone-its-been-a-while-d-so-heres

Higher quality + Full-size Images -- https://sta.sh/21y4noqrsk91 (These are best seen on desktop admittedly, tumblr’s version is is better for mobile viewing!)

For those who feel like viewing / sharing on other social media:

Twitter Version -- https://twitter.com/ColaCanvas/status/1576316256982302721

IG Version -- https://www.instagram.com/p/CjMe683Ds4w/

Artfol Version -- https://www.artfol.me/a/xAk0tvl

(( NOTE: I'll probably revisit this update to add more quick links as well, once I finish organizing what I need this weekend. ))

——————————

OC_TOBER 2022 PLANS PART 2 of 2 -- MONTH-LONG ASKBOX SESSION (Upcoming!!)

In addition to the character profiles, I'll also reopen my tumblr Askbox to answer as many project questions as I can -- albeit gradually, likely to share on the weekends. It'll also help me gauge how much volume I can manage, and whether it something I can keep open or at least re-open more regularly.

As of now the Askbox is still closed -- I was aiming to open it by the start of the month, but needed to put all my energy into completing the lineup before the end of September 😂 Please give me at least another day to rest and prepare before I reopen it, I promise I'll give you all another heads up once it's ready.

In the meantime, you'll find some updated guidelines and FAQs here on the main site -- https://deitiesproject.com/faqs/

(FWIW: I've been working on a site alternative of the askbox for anyone who doesn't have a tumblr, but it'll need to wait a bit longer before it's ready to launch. This shouldn't affect anyone following this tumblr already though, so it's business as usual for anyone who wants to submit questions here -- just please be sure to read the updated guidelines and FAQs first, thank you!)

——————————

ADDITIONAL CONTEXT

I've established in the site's Introduction page how development for DEITIES Project is still ongoing. But I've been having to balance it next to other tasks that require my attention, hence why it's felt a bit slow on tumblr and elsewhere.

Fortunately, some good friends convinced me to participate in this year's Artfight this past summer. Drawing each other's OCs renewed my creative energy, and I enjoyed the encouragement from my peers + the sheer enthusiasm for each others' OCs, it was a great experience with everyone!

From there, I felt re-energized to revisit DEITIES Project and see what next steps and WIPs I could tackle, and I could see that it sorely needed a full lineup sheet for some time. This was especially given how some characters were lacking clear visual references, or had some that were heavily outdated! 

This years OC_tober felt like a good opportunity to address this massive to-do, and to re-introduce some of the cast along the way. I had to wait until it was basically finished before I could give you all the heads up, but hopefully it's something to look forward to this month!

——————————

I'll wrap up this update here for now -- if I do add anything more it'll be minor things or edits over the next few days. Anything important (like the Askbox reopening) will be given a heads up on the main blog. With that said, I look forward to sharing more DEITIES Project this month, and hope you all enjoy!

[davidmariottecomics]

Too Many Conventions!

Hello! 

Turns out, I'm a liar. If you read last week's blog, I ended it with a whole little plan for the next couple of weeks, completely having forgotten that I'm about to enter the most convention heavy stretch I have all year! This is my last "free" weekend until April pretty much! 

A week from today, 2/25, I'll be at the Arizona Comic Book Arts Festival! If you're anywhere near the Phoenix area and want to see me to buy comics or bring your own to get them signed, this is the place to do it! I'll be bringing a pretty chunk of my stock, including stuff from Sonic, Godzilla, and pretty much what's left of my Transformers/Hasbro stock! Maybe this one, maybe in a couple more events like this, I'm going to be running out of Transformers vs. Terminator and Wreckers, so get 'em now while you can! Becca will be there too and you can get us both to sign our little mini-comic, Jimmy Squarefoot! We'll also be bringing copies of a zine we made explaining the issues with AI! And Becca will have a bunch of other stuff at their own table! 

There are a bunch of other really great people attending including Elizabeth Brei, Danny Djeljosevic, Mitch Gerads, Steve Rude, John Layman, Henry Barajas, Jay Fotos, Jeff Mariotte, Marcy Rockwell, John Yurcaba, Andrew MacLean, Alexis Zirrit, Meredith McClaren, James Owen, Ryan Cody, Tone Rodriguez, Cecil Castellucci, and so many more! So come on out and see us! 

Then, Becca got into WaifuExpo the following weekend, 3/3-3/5! It's going to be a cool little adult (18+) focused con in the Dallas-Fort Worth area! Becca's going to be in the artist's alley and I'm going to be there as their booth babe. I will NOT be bringing any of my stuff, only Becca is tabling (*tho if you are planning to attend and get ahold of me ahead of time, I might be able to pack a few things to give in person). Becca's working very hard on preparation and will have some exclusive stuff for adults debuting there! 

Similarly, lots of cool guests including some very notable cosplayers and voice actors and other artists! It also seems like it's going to be a very activity heavy con if that's your jam! 

It's also our first time in the DFW area, so if you have recommendations, those would be appreciated! 

Then, if everything goes right with the first two cons and I'm still feeling groovy, I am tentatively planning on going up to TFCon LA on 3/10. Again, this is health and finances permitting after two other back-to-back shows, and I am not coming as anything other than an attendee, but if you catch me at Jack Lawrence's table and want me to sign your Wreckers or Alex Milne's table and want me to sign your TF/Terminator or whatever, I'm happy to do so! 

And finally, I expect to be attending WonderCon 2023, March 24-26! Again, same deal as TFCon--my availability will depend a little bit on not having gotten sick/burned out from the other shows with only one weekend of "downtime" and I'm going mostly as an attendee, rather than tabling individually or with IDW, but this is the one con where I'll be most open for meetings. 

After that, I have to assume that I'll hibernate until the summer! And somewhere around there I'll get back to what I mistakenly proposed last week and do another "Ask Me (Almost) Anything". In the meantime, new posts are going to be coming to the blog, but they'll be a little irregular because they'll be coming in-between shows! 

Thanks for rolling with that change and hope to see you soon! 

What I enjoyed this week: Blank Check (Podcast), Honkai Impact (Video game--I managed to get the new Kiana and Mei back-to-back, so I'm pretty happy!), House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski (Book), Poker Face (TV show), Romantic Killer (Anime), Warioware Inc (Video Game), The Fablemans (Movie--I cried 3 times!), Kaguya-Sama: Love is War-The First Kiss That Never Ends (Movie), Valentine's Day, Snack vs. Chef (TV show), Chainsaw Man (Manga), rearranging my desk (I had to dust the... 150 [estimate] little hunks of plastic on my desk and decided to rearrange them), Becca's first Twitch stream (more on that below)! 

New Releases this week (2/15/2023): Off week for my books

New releases next week (2/22/2023): Also an off week for my books!

Announcements: Wait, this is still a section? With all that other stuff I've already been promoting? Well... Yeah! 

Social Media - I am still primarily on Twitter because that's still where I know the most people and the format I like the best, unfortunately, but you can find me on all my socials here as I continue to try to move away from that site that is less and less functional each day! And, hey, sometimes it still works to reach people like this update on Sonic (it is good and fine and in many languages and countries). 

Aradia Beat - The past few weeks, I've been plugging this cool Magical Girl Anthology Magazine that Becca's part of! This morning, the campaign closed and they had just exceeded their second stretch goal! Thanks anyone here who contributed and if you missed out, well... you missed out! No, but give Aradia Collective a follow and they'll be able to tell ya if there'll be any other ways of getting it in the future! 

More Magical Girls - Our pals Elizabeth Brei & Danny Djeljosevic and a bunch of their friends are getting close to their goal on their Kickstarter for Sweet Little Resistance, which you should check out! And you can tell them you're psyched for it at AZCAF! 

Becca is a busy beean - Somewhere in all this con prep and the many shows we're attending, Becca's also managing regular Patreon updates (and this month, any new sign-ups will have their first pledge go to The Brown Building here in San Diego). They're also open for commissions. And they're now streaming Wednesdays & Saturdays (including tonight, but not when we'll be at shows) on Twitch! I'll usually be there too, moderating the chat and making jokes, playing the soundboard or whatever. You can check out their first stream playing Heartbreak High on their page now! I think the plan is Wednesdays will be games and Saturdays will be art, so come check it out and hang! 

Legislative Tracking - Legislators are doubling down on attempting to pass anti-trans bills. Fortunately, some of them are not managing to move forward. Unfortunately, the bad guys keep trying. Here is a legislative tracker for you to keep an eye on and hopefully if anything is happening locally to you (and on the federal level), you're able to reach out to your reps and can tell them to knock that shit off. 

Pic of the Week: A very dumb little promo I made for all of our upcoming stuff (or... well, a lot of it) to the theme of Ant-Man & the Wasp: Quantumania, in theaters now! (NOTE: Made when Aradia Beat was still funding, it's over now, sorry!)

[babyboiboyega]

I can explain (Shangqi x f!reader)

Shangqi x f!reader

Prompt: “When everything’s going wrong, the mere thought of you makes it right.” + never wanting to pull away kiss

Content: a little angst, but more fluff

Word Count: 1.6k

Babyboiboyega’s Marvel Masterlist

A/N: this is my first ever time writing for Shangqi (or Shang-Chi), and I already have a lot of other ideas for this incredibly loveable character.

I hope you all enjoyed this!

A heavy sigh left Y/N’s mouth as she unceremoniously dropped onto her couch. The feeling of her limbs relaxing into the cushions almost prompted a moan of relief to follow the heavy sigh. It did, however, make her eyes flutter closed as she leaned her head back.

Y/N had been thinking of this moment the entire day. The moment when her week ended and her weekend began; a weekend of not having to deal with rude, angry-at-the-world customers who decide to yell at her because a privately owned publishing warehouse doesn’t print the book that they want. Or the customers who don’t check their emails for their tracking information and then get mad at her, for some absurd reason.

Another sigh leaves her mouth, and this time with the sigh goes her thoughts of work, entering the empty air for the weekend. 

But being off on the weekend didn’t exactly mean being absolved of texts and calls from fellow coworkers, ranting about customers, or even management. So when her phone’s ringer went off, signaling a new incoming text, she simply kept her eyes closed. She certainly had enough time to read and reply...but maybe later.

The text had already migrated to the back of her mind in the span of a few seconds...and then her phone went off again. This time, two quick “dings” sounded through her apartment. 

Her eyes opened before she slowly sat up, her phone coming into view. Before she could spare another though about her phone and it’s notifications, her hand quickly reached for the remote and pressed the power button.

She managed to flip through a few channels before her phone rang once more, and this time it was accompanied by a few knocks on her door.

Completely disregarding the fact that it was almost 11 at night and she hadn’t been expecting anyone, and being fueled by her now very obvious annoyance, it only took her a few strides to reach her door. In all honesty, she’d had no idea what she was going to say to whoever was on the other side of her door; but whatever had been ready to leave her lips died as soon as she opened the door.

“Shaun?”

She hadn’t been able to control the volume and surprise in her voice, and she saw his grimace in response. She couldn’t find it in herself to care if he didn’t like the volume in her voice; the very next emotions she felt surge through her body was...well, it was a cross between worry and anger. 

“Y/N...hey.” He had a sheepish smile on his face; one that showed off his dimple. One that she had to restrain from returning. But then she remembered the last time she had seen that same smile and the last time she had even heard from him. Her eyebrows raised incredulously.

“‘Hey?’ ‘Hey’?? That’s all...that’s all you have to say to me after being gone for...a month? And some weeks?” 

She could hear the hurt in her own voice, and it made her want to cringe at herself.

‘He could have been doing more important things than worrying about you’ is all that went through her mind.

Her arms crossed self-consciously in front of her.

“Please, let me explain. It’s… it’s actually crazier than you think.”

The hesitance on her part came from her nagging thoughts that flipped between “he was genuinely busy” and “he’s about to make up some absurd excuse for why he hasn’t spoken to you while also letting you down gently”.

“May I come in?” His eyebrows were raised as he gently asked for her permission. Y/N quickly nodded and stepped to the side before her thoughts could scare her too much.

His eyes stayed on her as he stepped past her, entering her apartment. She took a second to take a deep breath before closing the door behind him. 

She briefly wondered how her face looked as she turned to face him. Did she look as hurt and worried as she felt? Could he see her feelings on her face?

“I’m sorry for disappearing for...as long as I did. And I’m sorry for not reaching out at all during that time. But I can explain why.”

His eyes followed her figure as she walked slowly around her kitchen counter. He made no effort to hide the pleading look in his eyes, and he only began talking when Y/N raised her eyebrows from across the counter. 

“Okay. Just...bare with me.” Y/N’s eyes narrowed and more questions filled her mind as she watched him take a breath as if he were bracing himself. 

Y/N hadn’t known what to expect when he had started talking, but she definitely wasn’t expecting a story filled with martial arts, trained assassins, ancient organizations, soul-sucking demons, and dragons. 

Even after he had explained everything, his eyes watching and waiting for her reaction, she still couldn’t find the words to express herself.

Her body was frozen in its same position, and her eyes were wide and staring right at him. As the silence stretched between them, he couldn’t help grimacing slightly once again.

“Also, my name isn’t really Shaun. It’s Shangqi.”

That last piece of information seemed to finally shake Y/N out of her stupor, as she blinked quickly and let out a quick breath. 

“I...I don’t know what to say.” In all honesty, all of this was kind of making her head spin, and it was evident in the way her breathing picked in just the slightest. 

“W-What exactly do you say to someone who’s just saved the world? ‘Thank you’? ‘I owe you my life’- because, I guess, technically, I do owe you my life. Because of you, I still have my life- or my soul.”

At her rambling, Shangqi’s expression shifted from one of wariness to relief to a little worried. It had only just crossed his mind that he was worried that she wouldn’t believe him, and not worried about how she would receive the information.

She believed every word that had just come from his mouth, simply because she knew that he wouldn’t lie about something like this. She knew that he wouldn’t lie to her… at least she hoped he wouldn’t.

“You don’t have to say anything. I...I just needed you to know why I was gone. The thought of letting you go one more second thinking I just...left you was driving me crazy.”

A humorless laugh forced its way through Y/N’s lips. 

“Yeah, thinking I had driven you away was driving me crazy too.”

Before she could even regret her words, her eyes were drawn to Shangqi, whose head was shaking quickly. In a few steps, he had walked around the counter, coming to a stop a few feet from her. 

“That was never the case, I swear. You could never drive me away, not even if you tried.”

At the minuscule smile that appeared on her face, he risked taking another step forward. 

From where he stood, he could smell faint traces of her favorite perfume that had slowly worn off during her day. Her favorite perfume had quickly become his favorite scent, simply because it reminded him of her. 

From where she stood, she could easily see the faint signs of exhaustion on his face. No doubt from the strains of the last month and a half. It made her want to reach out to him. 

“Every second, from the moment we left, all I could think about was coming back to you. Even while staring into the face of a-”

“A mega soul-sucking demon?”

The quiet laugh that left his mouth seemed to weigh on her body, but not with pressure. Instead, all she felt was warmth, and it coursed through her veins with the power of 11 suns.

“Yes,” there was laughter in his voice as he responded, “even while staring into the face of a mega soul-sucking demon.”

As he spoke, he had gradually moved forward until taking a deep breath would easily have their chests brushing against each other.

Y/N couldn’t keep the tremor out of her voice as she spoke, her eyes flickering between Shangqi’s.

“You...you really thought of me when you were saving the world?”

Her eyes fluttered closed as his hand raised and gently cupped her cheek. Soon after, she felt pressure from his forehead connecting with hers. Without hesitation, her own hands lifted, coming to grasp at his sides, desperate to pull him closer.

His breath fanned across her face as he spoke, and it made her hands tighten.

“When everything’s going wrong, the mere thought of you always makes it right.”

His words were quickly swallowed by Y/N’s lips pressing against his with fervor. The hand that was on her cheek gently titled her head back as he kissed her back with just as much passion, while his other hand wound around her waist. They both pulled at the other, as if they couldn’t get close enough. 

The warmth that had been coursing through her veins quickly turned into leg-numbing electricity the longer their lips were connected. Her eyes were closed, and so were his, but they could both see the other’s face behind their lids, surrounded by the stars their presence created. 

The only thing that could pull them apart was the need for air, and even then, as their foreheads connected and their lips stayed hovering over each other’s, they breathed the same air.

Shangqi’s words were shaky as he spoke, his thumb rubbing circles into her skin.

“You make everything right.”

**********

Once again, I hope you all enjoyed this! I would take requests for this character, but I still have a ton of requests for LOK....

But maybe sometime in the near future!

In the meantime, I would appreciate it if y’all would interact in any way with this! Comments, criticism, questions, etc would be amazing, as would reblogs, but even just liking this helps!

Stay safe, y’all!

[bouncyballcitadel]

Thanks for Clicking!

As a healthcare professional-in-training, I’ve been working on a medical drama game with a healthy dash of romance added.

Please note, Citadel and this Tumblr may contain adult themes unsuitable for underage readers.

Please enjoy and leave comments/suggestions/etc.! Also, feel free to leave something in the ask box! 

It’s the not-so-distant future, and the landscape of medicine has been irrevocably changed. Once incurable diseases are now completely manageable. Metastatic cancer. Alzheimer’s. These patients have a new lease on life, and it’s all thanks to Citadel Health’s NINO technique. But, like all innovations in medicine, there’s more to it than meets the eye…

Play as a first-year surgery intern at Citadel Health. Will you become the star intern and curry the favor of the chief? Or will you uncover Citadel Health’s secrets and break a story or two? This will be the best and worst year of your life. Don’t forget to save lives and break some hearts along the way.

Current Demo Word Count: 127,000+ words

Elliot/Ellen Sanford (he/him, she/her): 

Your roommate, and Citadel Health medicine intern. You and Eli have known each other since the beginning of medical school. Can come off as a bit of a slacker, but cares deeply about providing the best possible care to patients. Aspires to become a geriatrician.

Davy Jackson (they/them):

Fellow Citadel Health surgery intern. Very self-assured, very sassy. Has huge ambitions to become a leading surgeon of the NINO technique and isn’t afraid to hide them. Whether they’re your friend, frenemy, or enemy is up to you.

Jean Liu (she/her, he/him):

Resident (hah!) coffee-drinker, and Citadel Health medicine intern. Born and bred in the Bay Area, this is really their first time out of California (and they’re already regretting it…). Would love to do a fellowship in Pulmonology/Critical Care to become an ICU attending.

Victor/Victoria Uytterhoeven (he/him, she/her):

One of the chief surgery residents at Citadel Health. Strict, jacked, and full of angst.

Dr. Peter Grey (he/him):

Chief of NINO Surgery at Citadel Health, and one of the early pioneers of the NINO technique. Perfect for your McDreamy fantasies.

Dr. Ivy Sloan (she/her):

Medicine attending at Citadel Health. Smiles rarely. Compliments residents even more rarely. Perfect for your House fantasies.

Full Cast Art by the wonderful @enspey​ 

DEMO || DISCORD || PATREON || KO-FI || AO3 || FORUM

Citadel Short Snippet Compendium

Citadel Art - search #citadel art on this Tumblr!

DJ Citadel (Master Playlist) or search #dj citadel for individual RO playlists!

Citadel Surgery Intern Class

Artists I’ve Commissioned

Bouncy’s IF/Visual Novel Recs

10/8/2023

Hi everyone!

A couple things...

I got COVID for a month lol 😷

I got a dog (much more exciting)! 🐶

I'm hoping to release Case Three: Chapter Two by the end of October/early November, but in the meantime...

Short snippet commissions are again open on my Ko-Fi for $10/snippet! Currently, there's 3 slots available.

Patreon Residents tier ($5/month) and up get 1-week early access to short snippets, so consider subscribing (and supporting resident wellness 😉).

Cheers!

Banners made by the lovely and very, very talented @deflatedball​

[happilyeverbridgerton]

my thoughts on bridgerton season 3

(reposted from my main account, oops lol)

Like everyone else, with the news of the season 3 plot of Bridgerton, I've decided to share my thoughts! This will also include some of my opinions regarding on the direction of how the show is going compared to the books. I hope you enjoy and that we can have a discussion in the comments.

I should preface this my saying, that I was initially not very excited to learn that Colin and Penelope were the main couple for season 3. Benedict and Sophie are my favorite couple out of the entire series, so I was obviously disappointed. Especially after reading here on Shondaland's article that "it feels only appropriate in the third season of Bridgerton for a third son and a third daughter to take the lead."

No, it actually does not. Because by that logic, Benedict should have been the lead of season 2. I really do believe this change in which couple stars as the lead boils down to the reveal of Lady Whistledown at the end of the first season, and the hole it seems like the writers of the show have written themselves into.

But, I digress. I'm learning to separate the tv show from the books, and I will get there eventually.

Immediately, I wasn't sure how to feel about Colin helping Penelope to find a husband. As the article states "Pen values her independence," so I'm not so sure why she is eager to find a husband. Though she was not exactly thrilled at the idea of being a spinster in the books, I feel like it still gave her a sense of freedom and allowed her more room to continue to operate as Lady Whistledown.

However, I do think this plot does allow for some potentially great moments to see Colin slowly start to realize his feelings for Penelope. Similarly, it should allow for Penelope to also realize that her feelings are still there for Colin and have been for a while. I'm interested to see how the new suitors will be introduced and what sort of dynamic they will have with Penelope.

What I'm not necessarily excited about is the way the Lady Whistledown plot is panning out. I am, personally, not a fan of the way the Queen has been involved with this plot of the show. Making the stakes so high that the Queen wants Penelope killed is very extreme, and also just doesn't make sense to me. It seems as though it has the potential to be very 'witch-hunty,' and I'm not sure how it will pan out.

I am interested to see how they go about resolving the fight between Elosie and Penelope. Will this happen in the first few episodes or only at the very end of the season? I'm also curious to know if there will still be some scenes with Penelope helping and encouraging Colin about his writing. I think it provides a sweet connection between the two of them and helps to add to Colin's character.

My last thought does not actually relate to Penelope or Colin, but instead - Benedict. One of my original gripes about the reveal of the leads for season 3 is that it seemed as though Benedict was in the perfect place in terms of his character for when he meets Sophie at the end of season 2.

So far, we have seen Benedict see situations around him of people living outside the norms of society, and he himself has started to adopt the attitude that being outside the ton is not a bad thing (as seen in the first season). Not only that, but Benedict seems very lost at the end of the second season. This is especially present when he learns that he got into art school because of his family/money rather than based on his merit.

All of this to say is what will Benedict do this season? I know many hope that Benedict will at least meet Sophie before she disappears for 2 years, but I'm not so sure. And if that doesn't happen, I hope he is not completely ignored or reduced to comedic relief.

All in all, I am excited for season 3 and what will happen between Colin and Penelope. I adore a friends-to-lovers trope, so I am excited to see this on the big screen. In the meantime, I will work on managing my expectations when it comes to tv/film adaptions and the original material.

[angelic-serenade]

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

request: Imagine Light discovering that you know MMA and you offer to teach him so he can properly defend himself

requested by: @sacredwarrior88​

a/n: hope the waiting was woth it! jokes aside, I am deeply sorry for the amount of time this took and the fact I got sidetracked, I hope you can still enjoy this piece!

gif, original work and characters do not belong to me

pairing: Light Yagami x f!reader

fandom: Death Note

warnings: angst, ment of death & murder, guilt tripping, manipulation, light yagami being light yagami, toxic relationship, canon typical violence

✧༝┉┉┉┉┉˚*❋ ❋ ❋*˚┉┉┉┉┉༝✧

“You're a pretty boy, Light Yagami. You should be able to properly defend yourself!”

That's what you kept repeating to the golden student of the prestigious Daikoku private academy ever since you had been granted the 'privilege' of referring to him as a friend. Light Yagami was nothing short of extraordinary - perfect, some would dare to say. But perfection and popularity, above all, are bound to have a price and you feared the day someone would finally strike up enough courage to try and shred the boy to pieces out of envy for his academic success and overall superiority in everything he did. Revenge was petty like that.

Therefore, being a well-practiced mixed martial arts fighter yourself, you insisted on giving the boy some lessons in order to at least help him reach a decent level of self-defense, so that he would hopefully be able to get out of any minor sticky situation unscathed. Extreme apprehension aside, it was a really useful skill which would benefit anyone and Light Yagami would be no exception. You knew the mighty hero of adults and students alikd had no time to spare, with his schedule permanently jam-packed and quite the amount of expectations to meet: MMA trainings would cost him more time he could afford losing - or so he had said. Whatever reason he conjured up each time you offered, it could do nothing to soothe your worries, which kept falling on deaf ears as Light kept politely turning your queries down.

“I may be a pretty boy as you say, (Y/N), but I am no secret agent or spy. I doubt I'd even run into any situation as dangerous as to call for such drastic measures. Besides, if I ever get in trouble I'll simply have to give you a call.”

And so the days passed between playful banter and boring study sessions, with no further mention of those lessons you wished your friend had accepted; you were a bit crestfallen to say the truth, but you guessed that maybe he’d manage even with no training at all. Besides, Light made sure to make it up to you by inviting you to hang out with him any time he had a moment to finally breathe and take a break – you were glad that you’d get to meet with him outside of school as no one else could actually say the same for themselves. You were aware that the boy was practically married to his academic career and the effort he made to keep the relationship working outside of the academy’s walls too was not lost on you. At first, everything seemed to work out just fine between the two of you: you were friends, best friends even, and you also became a regular at the Yagami household’s dining table. Furthermore, each time you’d have a MMA match, he’d be there to support you. You’d gotten so used to spot him through the crowd that your eyes seemed to immediately find him among the many anonymous faces around you. It was nice and it became routine.

That is until something seemed to change.

The shift was gradual, nothing major to be concerned of at first – maybe he was just tired because of the exams? Or maybe the field work he’d taken up to help his father was really burning him out, right? As days went by, you tried to cheer your friend up, but to no avail: his expression grew distant, and even though Light Yagami had never been an outgoing individual per se, his prolonged silences and far-away stares made him look even more stoic and cold than usual. It was worrying and it started to bother you, a lot. You didn’t know what was troubling the usually moderate boy, but you were certain that whatever the hell was happening, it was affecting Light immensely. Being a discreet person himself, Light never spoke a word to you about anything that might have been considered remotely negative. Your days were spent as before, enjoying each other’s company – to an outsider’s eye, nothing had changed in the way he carried himself, but to a more attentive eye, such as yours, his conduct grew to be concerning: even when he was with you, his mind would always be elsewhere. You pondered the idea of confronting him face to face, but you didn’t want to pry or come off as coquettish. Therefore you kept worrying in silence, mind haunted by the possibilities that could have led your dear friend down on such a questionable path.

You didn’t wait for long though. The confirmation to your suspicions made itself known when Light came to you one day to ask about those lessons you had offered him months back.

The sudden request, after so much time spent together without ever mentioning the offer, struck you as odd. What had changed his mind? As you racked your brain to try and get the answers you so desperately craved, you couldn't help but to come to the same conclusion over and over again: Light's excuse for finally making up his mind about self-defense was bulletproof, sure, but the sudden change of heart didn't sit well with you still. Was the wish to aid his father on the field all there was to it? You didn't think so. But until you had no solid proof to your suspicions, that was all they'd ever be. You refused to act on a whim and rather logically decided to humor the boy in his newfound interest, as long as he kept his sights on self-defense and self-defense only. In the meantime, you decided you’d monitor the evolution of his behavior and keep a close watch on him .

“You have made quite some progress, huh.”

You swallowed down almost half the water bottle in your hand, while looking at your equally worn out companion: it had been another two hours of training and you came to the conclusion that maybe it was time to end your little sparring session.

“If it’s you who says it, it must be true.” Smiled the boy, but it did not quite reach his eyes.

“I think our lessons are numbered, there’s not much else I can teach you.”

“That’s nice to hear, you really are a tough teacher.” Another fake smile which you did not reciprocate. As he made haste to get everything he’d brought with him in his bag, you made up your mind and settled for upfront confrontation.

“I guess… say Light, is there something that’s been bothering you lately?” it was now or never and you weren’t going to let the occasion go. He was tired and supposedly had his guard down – it was a moment as good as any to get some information out of him.

“Oh, I guess I’ve been pretty out of it lately, huh? I’m sorry if I had you worried, work at the station has been quite hectic and I can’t help but take it home with me.”

“That makes sense, don’t stress yourself out too much though. I’m sure you’re doing the best you can to support your father.” your words were automatic, articulated with little to no regard for the boy’s feelings: you were disappointed your so-called friend had decided to feed you yet another hollow excuse instead than opening up to you as a friend should. If there was anything you absolutely could not stand about Light Yagami, it was his charming way of spinning words in order to avoid revealing the whole truth.

“Thank you, (Y/N).”

Frustrated that he had let the conversation drop for the umpteenth time, annoyed at your fruitless attempts to persuade your friend to simply talk to you, and, to top it all, exhausted by the tough training session of the day, you let the negative impulses get to your head and acted in an uncharacteristically rash way: the surprise punch landed on the target with no effort at all and, even though you realized one second too late that you had broken almost a dozen rules of the moral code of martial arts, you felt invigorated by the action. The sound of your punch colliding with Light’s jaw brought an immense amount of satisfaction to your fogged mind, so much so that you almost came to question your own twisted way of taking it out on the boy; the moment of blind anger subsided, but you did not back down from the upcoming fight:

“I intended to give you the benefit of the doubt, given the sincere nature of the friendship I thought we shared, but apparently I was way too understanding with you. I keep extending my hand towards you and you threaten to bite it off each time with your half-hearted excuses and half-truths. You may not be aware of it, but this-” you gestured towards him and then yourself: “this is not the way things should be between friends, Light Yagami and I’m sick of pretending everything’s alright.”

The boy did not flinch, nor did he make any move to reciprocate your previous offending motion. He just stood there, impassible and unreadable.

“Will you at least say something? Or do you not care at all?”

Light Yagami was stuck, both physically and figuratively speaking. Your harsh words had caught him off guard, literally hitting him in the face with the hard reality he’d been progressively distancing himself from. He had underestimated what an issue your shared bond could become for his great plan of rebuilding the world; if he were to be completely honest, he’d considered disposing of you at first – not permanently, of course, but cutting you off from his life would have been one less burden to worry about. His game of cat and mouse with L did not make things easy though: you were the weak link, a bothersome liability he should have taken care of since the start, but terminating the friendship with you so abruptly would have done nothing but to bring more attention upon himself and you. His position within the special task force of L was precarious enough as it was, he couldn’t afford the slightest miscalculation. Therefore he’d settled on exploiting whatever he could gain from the relationship (hence the MMA training lessons) while maintaining the façade of a precious but unfortunately extremely busy friend. He hadn’t anticipated you’d actually see right through his little stunt.

He raised a hand to his jaw – it stung. A sudden urge overcame him and his hand twitched as if expecting to clench around a certain black notebook. As soon as the compulsion hit, he composed himself once again:

“I’m sorry (Y/N), I realize I’ve been a terrible friend to you, but-” the words caught on his tongue, a sob rocking his frame so suddenly you almost jumped back, startled. Guilt began to pool in your stomach, had you been too hard on him?

“Things are not going well at the station and I can’t give you any details but it is all so- so overwhelming-”

You closed the distance between the two of you and, feeling oh so regretful for your hasty actions and so hypocritical for your arrogant claims, you hugged your dear friend as if it were your lifeline.

“I’m sorry Light, I-”

“There’s no need to apologize (Y/N), I have been so cold to you and it is my fault that I cut you off like that. I assure you it will never happen again, I will do better.”

You held the boy in your arms, and let him take his time to calm down. Horrible, that’s what you felt for treating a friend so hatefully - he’d already been struggling on his own and instead of landing him a comforting hand, you had hit him with it. You promised you’d make it up to him, too.

“If that punch managed to catch me so off guard, it means you’ll have to bear with me for a few more lessons, I guess” he finally smiled.

[…]

“You should have seen the look on your face when she punched you! Priceless! Oh I am so glad you humans can prove to be so entertaining yet!”

Light gave you a wave of his hand as he made his way down the street, away from your house, ignoring the nagging laughter of the hellish being following him around. What a waste of his time.

“I really thought you’d get rid of her for good this time! What a night!”

The boy made no comment to Ryuk’s exhilarated blabbering, trying instead not to lose himself in that primordial fury that made him tempted to write another name on the Death Note.

“And the way you managed to play her- she was mortified when you started crying! You are a great actor, Light Yagami.”

“Shut up, Ryuk.” whispered Light.

“You know what I think? I think you can’t really get rid of her, even if you desperately want to, even with no L getting in the way of your plans – you’d still wouldn’t be able to kill her. Oh, now, that’s gold!”

The boy did not confirm nor confute Ryuk’s words - he kept silent as he made his way through the darkness.

[inventors-fair]

Kald’ve, Would’ve, Should’ve (and Finally Did) Commentary

No no, of course I didn’t forget, you forgot. And I couldn’t blame you if you did, it’s been some time coming. Commentary may be a special action, but it obviously still uses the stack - and as it gets stacked under more and more things, it can take a while to see it resolved. While I can’t promise the next one is going to have split second timing, I’m definitely going to be adjusting my schedule to make getting things out on time more manageable.

This challenge revisited what I started with the release of Zendikar Rising, albeit with a slightly looser approach, and I definitely enjoyed the increased diversity that I saw in submissions because of it. I think it’ll take a couple more of these before I'm able to mould my prompt to hit exactly the kind of results I’m looking for, so I doubly appreciate everyone participating in my little mad science design experiments in the meantime.

That said, let’s not keep you waiting...

@bread-into-toast​​ - Halvar, God of Battle // Sword of the Realms

Flavour: This was a direct cleanup of a card that was already in the set, so there wasn’t a lot of flavour to credit you with specifically. There is new flavour text on the front face (which wasn’t an option on the printed version thanks to the MDFC frame treatment) that I suppose gives us slightly more insight into Halvar’s personality.

Mechanics: The front face has one minor change to the timing of the combat ability that does succeed in making it objectively more powerful, but probably does not make for more interesting gameplay overall - it pushes more of the combat math onto your opponents, essentially reducing the decisions you make to “what punishes these blocks the most.” The back face has a more significant change, trading out the original’s recursion ability for an ability that I assume is supposed to better represent the Omenpaths flavourfully, since it’s certainly not a core white effect. In practice I have to imagine the recursion ability plays more nicely with the equipment theme than a ramp effect does.

Nitpicks/Templating: The front face trigger would read “At the beginning of the declare blockers step each combat,” which is admittedly confusing because “beginning” implies that it’s before blockers even though it wouldn’t be - the awkwardness of the template is probably a reason we don’t see it more often. The ability on the rear face would want to specify where you’re casting the spell from like Sram’s Expertise does, otherwise you’re leaving it up to players to guess which spells it’s allowing them to play, and they’ll often guess wrong.

Overall: Shop the art all you want, I still think he’s as handsome as ever.

--

Charmera - Imyir, God of Tracking // Bow of Freedom

Flavour: I feel like I might be a little sketchy on the flavour for this one, but I believe the idea is that Imyir was fated to track “the Wolf” but never catch it, and had to break free of that fate in order to finally succeed. That definitely sounds like a neat concept, and I think you could’ve been even a little more explicit in delivering on it to really drive that story home - though I suppose this does already have more space devoted to flavour text than any of the Gods that did see print.

Mechanics: The ability on the front face is very powerful, I suspect the fact that the draws are temporary is a relatively small downside compared to the ability to chain card draw by hitting creatures one after another. The back face is... Well, I’ll be honest that I don’t know what you intended it to do. Indeed, both sides are exiling cards from your library face down, meaning you have no idea what they are, but allowing you to cast them. Is it supposed to be casting one at random? Did you forget to include the part where you look at the cards? That confusion aside, the 7-mana legendary artifact that mills you for 10 every turn (but explicitly hoses any graveyard synergies) doesn’t sound particularly exciting, though I guess if the effect isn’t intended to be random the free cast would be quite powerful. But just imagine casting this in multiplayer and milling yourself for 50 cards just to get to cast one for free - the ratio doesn’t seem appealing.

Nitpicks/Templating: If you want players to know what’s under their face down exiled cards, you’ve got to include a “look at” line. If a player was able to look at it once they’ll be able to look at it as often as they like for as long as it remains exiled, but that first look has to happen explicitly. Also: 8 lines of text does not have room for flavour text.

Overall: I just hope the Wolf made it out okay.

--

@col-seaker-of-the-memiest-legion​ - Scythed Whirlwind

Flavour: Embittered with time is definitely right up Egon’s alley, though the card name and the other aspects of the flavour don’t feel like they resonate particularly strongly with me. If there’s a way the flavour is supposed to lend itself to the mechanics, I’m not immediately seeing it.

Mechanics: You mentioned in your submission that you intended this to be a “skill-testing” board wipe, but I’m struggling to imagine what skill this would be testing. This is obviously just a board wipe in the vast majority of board states, though obviously it does - somewhat - encourage you to play creatures with equipments, but in practice this is still just going into (near-)creatureless decks.

Nitpicks/Templating: Targets are chosen as part of casting a spell, so they can’t be conditional like this. You’d want the spell to be modal, as you won’t be obligated to select targets for the mode you didn’t choose.

Overall: Maybe it’s just me, but the name conjures images of kamaitachi more than anything out of Norse mythology. But I’m also not an expert.

--

@corporalotherbear​​ - Explore the Realms

Flavour: You acknowledged that flavour was your focus with this one, with the flavour text here hinting at an upcoming Phyrexian corruption of the ten realms. That makes some sense in the context of Vorinclex’s unexplained appearance, and indeed may wind up being something Kaldheim has to deal with in the future. 

Mechanics: An Explore variant that lets you drop two lands instead of one, albeit for one extra mana. Ramping by two is a lot more powerful than ramping by one, but the requirement of having two lands available makes this a little less consistent. Generally speaking, cards with high power level and high variance tend to lead to unsatisfying play patterns, so I’d be nervous about the games where this does succeed in ramping from 3 to 6, even if it does so unreliably.

Nitpicks/Templating: Most quotations in flavour text are credited to someone, and while it’s not strictly necessary in a case like this, I think it would go a ways to helping deliver on the flavour.

Overall: Ten realms is an upgrade over nine hells, I guess.

---

@deg99 - Nith, Root Gnawer

Flavour: Your goal was to deliver on more dragons, and this kinda does that. I’ll admit that I’m lost on why it’s also a Troll, as those are completely separate species and it doesn’t appear to be an obvious crossbreed of the two. It’s not immediately obvious what the lands in graveyard clause is supposed to represent flavourfully, but if Gadrak is any indication that isn’t really necessary.

Mechanics: What stands out most here is - obviously - the repeatable land destruction. Against anything but the rampiest of decks, if you have this on the battlefield by turn six it is very unlikely for any opponent to recover from blowing up a land and creating a large token every turn. The fact that it’s unable to attack early really doesn’t feel relevant, because it’ll rarely be attacking late either - the upside of denying your opponent resources while expanding your board is almost always just much better than 5 damage.

Nitpicks/Templating: Templating favours common contractions, so it’s “can’t attack,” and (for whatever reason) only subtypes are ever capitalised: “4/4 green Troll Warrior creature token with trample.”

Overall: Repeatable land destruction is certainly a trollish thing to do, I’ll give you that.

--

@demimonde-semigoddess - Huatli, Guiding Hand

Flavour: Huatli on Kaldheim is a curious inclusion, feeling even more out-of-place than the existing non-native planeswalkers - of course this isn’t exactly a bad thing, as planeswalkers aren’t really supposed to blend in anyway.

Mechanics: The interplay between the three abilities here seems reasonable enough, the downtick creating tokens that trigger the first ability, and the uptick allowing them to trigger it on both attacks and blocks. It’s a little unexpected that both ways of triggering the ability are inherently aggressive (the block trigger only succeeds in tapping down blockers for the next turn), and cute that the otherwise unique tribal effect works with changelings in the set. It’s a little hard to gauge the overall power of three-mana planeswalkers as there’s often a thin line between unimpressive and broken so I won’t pretend to know how powerful this is just by looking, though I imagine the difficulty of blocking against it would give creature decks lots of trouble.

Nitpicks/Templating: You likely know the creature type in the first ability should be capitalised, and abilities with multiple targets read “each get” for the sake of clarity.

Overall: Is it the dinos that her hand is guiding, or something else?

--

@dimestoretajic​ - Calix, the Hidden

Flavour: This is an unexpected take on Calix, taking on a rather different appearance presumably as a disguise. It’s not immediately clear to me what he’d be hiding from, but the reference to Kratos is cute even if it’s ultimately confusing.

Mechanics: Always hard to evaluate planeswalkers without the benefit of iteration, but the abilities seem roughly in Calix’s wheelhouse. The first ability is a scry that upgrades to a draw if it hits an enchantment, probably reasonable enough at three mana; the downtick lets you trade him in immediately for a Stasis Snare effect; and the ultimate gives you a bunch of free Sagas. I think the idea of Calix interacting with Sagas is a little cute, though he definitely had that opportunity on Theros and didn’t so it might have been best to do it a little more subtly.

Nitpicks/Templating: The first ability feels like it has a lot of decision points for digital; I’d consider just revealing in the first place to save some clicks. The second ability is probably much wordier than it should be; I don’t think you gain much by naming the token (or by making it green), and the exile effect should probably just look closer to original Calix’s downtick. Be careful with so many wordy abilities on one planeswalker; I understand the desire to be clever, but ironically being elegant is even cleverer than being clever.

Overall: I’m down for Calix with a beard.

--

@driftingthruthecosmos​ - Immortal Triumph

Flavour: This appears to be playing into the trope space of Valhalla, letting your permanents ascend to the beyond only to return for a prophetic final battle. I think the art is an actual depiction of Valhalla, and the name generally signals toward the same concepts without actually embracing Kaldheim’s application of the same trope space, “the Worthy.”

Mechanics: This card definitely doesn’t work as written, but I prefer to judge design on the design’s merit’s, so I’ll do my best to work out how you expected it to work. The fact that this hits any nonland permanent makes it quite versatile, allowing it to return the same permanent turn after turn which can be difficult to overcome - even something as innocuous as Omen of the Sun can be pretty overbearing being recurred turn after turn with relatively little room for counterplay.

Nitpicks/Templating: The first ability leaves a few unintuitive holes where permanents can be lost despite the replacement effect. The second one appears to grant foretell (and a foretell cost) to a card it just put in your hand, which isn’t logistically feasible since your hand is a hidden zone. I’m not sure why the ability didn’t just turn the chosen card face down and make it foretold a la Ethereal Valkyrie.

Overall: I think my biggest wish for this one would be that the ‘glory’ was actually something you had to earn, rather than being totally universal.

--

@evscfa1​ - Mistlebranche, Cosmic Prank

Flavour: The core idea of a weapon based on mistletoe deriving from the story of Baldr is really sweet, though some of the aspects of this design seem to stray a bit from that core concept. Most significantly the decision to make it a snow permanent with a snow equip cost seems rather unexpected.

Mechanics: Not to sound like a broken record, but the snow equip cost is what catches my eye the most: it makes the design very narrow, being completely useless without two snow sources plus a creature to put it on. Once it’s equipped, deathtouch and menace means that any creature this goes on will immediately be trading 2-for-1, making it really difficult to keep up with in any deck that’s able to produce tokens. Exiling planeswalkers too is a cute addition, and particularly powerful alongside making your creatures highly unprofitable to block.

Nitpicks/Templating: If you’re gonna make a weapon based explicitly on a plant, how did it end up anything but green? I imagine you designed the abilities first and chose the color to fit, but in this case I think the color was probably an important aspect of delivering on the concept and wasn’t a good place for compromise.

Overall: The name Mistlebranche sounds so elegant, though.

--

@fractured-infinity - Firja, First of the Valkyrie

Flavour: Reusing the Firja character with a new title. There’s enough about Firja elsewhere in the set to inform her character a bit, but that also means the title change can only do so much to change my perception of her.

Mechanics: The four life as a cost is pretty close to free here, but it does at least force you to adjust your play patterns to preserve your life total as you work up to it. In practice this is the kind of card you generally hold onto until you can guarantee some value from, and since we don’t see many Angels below three mana, this would often be waiting until eight to get played. That’s probably reasonable though, as once it does get going it tends to end games very, very quickly. This has the interesting upside of being less bad in multiples than most legendary creatures, as the second copy of this can still be cast to generate a token off the first.

Nitpicks/Templating: “First” in the name and each instance of “Angel” in the text ought to be capitalised, and life is always expressed with numerals: “4 life.”

Overall: Nice to see her growing out of that awkward Judge of Valor phase.

--

@hypexion - Kaya’s Gambit

Flavour: A play on the existing Divine Gambit design, with a couple minor tweaks. Interestingly, the flavour text comes very close to standing on its own - I didn’t remember the original’s, and yet it made some sense on its own (though perhaps it would’ve made less if I wasn’t aware of Divine Gambit already). The biggest miss is that the “gambit” part of the name makes virtually no sense with this design, as there’s no risk involved in using it.

Mechanics: Flexible if conditional removal. At worst it’s Disperse, at its best it’s just an exile effect. The biggest differences between this and the original are the open information and the (virtual) lack of a failure rate: with open information you’ll never be surprised by what your opponent gets back from this, and only returning the card to hand means that it’s rarely just not worth doing at all. This is clearly a more powerful version of the effect, but I’m not convinced it’s either more interesting nor a more appropriate power level.

Nitpicks/Templating: You probably want to use “with that permanent” instead of “with it”, as the text refers to multiple objects and they like to be as unambiguous as possible. I looked for examples that used “it,” but I didn’t immediately find any.

Overall: There are white cards, and then there are good cards.

--

@i-am-the-one-who-wololoes​ - Winter Travels

Flavour: The name definitely conveys both the concept and the mechanics reasonably well, and the flavour text itself is really evocative and has great imagery to it.

Mechanics: A mistake designers tend to make when designing for a known format is throwing multiple elements of that format onto the same card: when not done carefully, the result is a card that only works in a narrow intersection rather than being interesting in each archetype it makes use of. In this case, Snow archetypes make much better use of this than foretell archetypes, meaning this probably should’ve just accepted it was a Snow card and dropped foretell altogether.

Nitpicks/Templating: The template is unclear about whether the second condition - all snow mana - applies only when the spell is foretold or not, which is always going to be a problem with double-conditional cards. Also: this card had 9 lines of text before you put flavour text, it’s important to know when to make cuts.

Overall: Maybe I’ve read too much Robert Frost, but I really appreciate how poetic the concept here feels.

--

@ignorantturtlegaming​ - Elendriel, Twisted Prophet

Flavour: It’s not super clear to me who or what this is supposed to represent. The name and typing is enough to hint at a broad identity, but there’s a lot going on and not enough string to really tie it all together.

Mechanics: Like I mentioned for the submission above, throwing lots of a sets themes/mechanics onto a single card generally makes that card narrower and less exciting, rather than more exciting. In this case you’ve got a card relying heavily on foretell outside of the foretell archetype colors, unable to meaningfully contribute to its own colors’ archetype (Elves) without foretell, plus a boast ability that feels out of place both mechanically and conceptually...and also depends entirely on foretell.

Nitpicks/Templating: Flavour text was pretty important for the boast cards. While there were a couple rares that didn’t have room for it, notably the legendary ones both did because the flavour text was instrumental in selling the mechanic.

Overall: Elves > Foretell > Boast > ??? > Prophet!

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@kavinika​ - Tjalfi, the Godly Messenger // Fjara, Doomskar Lookout

Flavour: Your submission took some time to explain the top-down basis for these two - a servant of Thor (Tjalfi) and one of the roosters of Ragnarok (Gullinkambi) - though obviously you’ve taken some slight liberties. The biggest issue with the flavour here is that it diverges from what the set establishes the Gods to look like - double-faced creatures with elements closely related to their divine duties on the reverse. With the set having only limited space to create and deliver on expectations, there probably just isn’t space to also subvert those expectations.

Mechanics: Mechanically, it’s awkward to have a red card that generates longterm card advantage, even if the condition for doing so is essentially a red thing. The two sides sort of push you in the same direction - lots of nontoken creatures - and the trigger on Fjara theoretically helps to reclaim Boast creatures that were lost trying to trigger the opposite side. The mana costs seem hard to pull off in the same deck, but I can at least see the play pattern it’s trying to encourage - though I can’t help but wish Fjara’s ability was a Boast ability, just to really help the card enable itself as most of the Gods do.

Nitpicks/Templating: Tjalfi’s triggered ability runs on a bit, it probably wants to be separated into two sentences: “ [...] of your library. You may reveal [...]” I’ll also a nitpick that if you’re going to base a character on something as unique as a rooster that crows at the end of the world, you probably want to make the connection as clear as possible - I don’t think anyone is going to make that connection here.

Overall: Maybe I’m just salty that I didn’t get the chicken version.

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@kytheon4-4 - Gunnar the Breathless

Flavour: You made sure to include flavour text, which I think was really important to selling the Boast ability as it appeared on cards in the set. The specific flavour text you chose comes off as wordy, the story it tells is hard for me to parse (one can only imagine where they’d tucked the troll’s club away whilst hitching a ride), and doesn’t feel like it connects in any obvious way to the ability on the card. One of the fun aspects of Boast was how well they focused on creating stories to explain the specific ability on the card, but apart from maybe interpreting the troll’s lunch as life gain, I’m just not seeing that on this one.

Mechanics: You’re right that it would’ve been nice to have one of the Boast enablers show up at a lower rarity, though I’m suspecting that it probably didn’t for power level reasons - Boast is actually pretty powerful, and I wouldn’t be surprised if one of the rare enablers had started out at uncommon and gotten pushed to rare for being too impactful. I think it’s nice of you to try to make the ability broad enough to work outside of just Boast - there are a few things this breaks in older formats, but in Standard the scariest thing it can do is enable Kargan Intimidator or Subira, both of which are probably safe enough even with free abilities.

Nitpicks/Templating: All the templating stuff looks fine.

Overall: The irony of “the Breathless” holding a horn is not lost on me.

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@masternexeon - Aggravated Berserker

Flavour: This card is a little light on flavour, which I’m normally just fine with, but in the context of Boast the flavour does a lot to bring the mechanic to life. It’s clever that the name is a throwback to Aggravated Assault, but I think a little more attention to detail could’ve helped it really pop.

Mechanics: Obviously this was really close to one of the winners, with the big difference being the Dwarf tribal element. Obviously I favoured the version that had a slightly broader appeal, but since Dwarf tribal was one of the themes of the set, there’s probably a version of this design that does both (extra combat for everyone plus a bonus for Dwarves) that I would’ve liked better than either.

Nitpicks/Templating: You’ll want to make sure to capitalise “Dwarves” in your rules text.

Overall: No spoilers, but this one almost seems designed with my next challenge in mind.

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@misterstingyjack - Toralf and Valki Deceive the Giant King

Flavour: Boy howdy, that’s a name - I’m impressed that your renderer got it to fit. This is a top-down story about Thor disguising himself as his own mother in order to trick a giant that wishes to marry her into returning his hammer. The chapters of the Saga follow that pattern pretty precisely, letting you disguise one of your creatures and - over a couple turns - steal an artifact from an opponent. You might have considered swapping chapters 1 and 2, so that the destruction effect could represent the hammer going missing which prompted the whole endeavour. Indeed, then you could even move the mill effect into that ability, to represent the hammer being buried after it’s stolen.

Mechanics: Similarly, I think putting the destruction effect up front would’ve done this card some good. The copy effect is cute, but it’s not the most powerful effect on the card, and as written this is pretty easy to blank with a removal spell. I do really like the way the abilities intersect the colors - destroying an artifact or creature requires both colors, temporary copy effects from a graveyard feels both red and black, and recurring an artifact is something red can do that still feels pretty black.

Nitpicks/Templating: As much as I respect how ambitious the name was, I’m confident you had shorter options available.

Overall: It’s always lovely to see a top-down story that you enjoy getting represented as a card, nice choice.

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@mtg-ds - Koll, Breath of the Bellows

Flavour: I definitely understand your frustration that there aren’t more smiths that do actual smithing in Magic, instead just encouraging you to build a deck that simulates their doing so. This correction for that is pretty straightforward, making axes and shields to equip to your army.

Mechanics: The low costs on this are going to lead to a lot of Equipment tokens on the battlefield at any given time - any time you have unspent mana you’re going to pour it into making tokens, especially since you can do so at instant speed. Combining that with the first ability reducing the Equip cost to zero, you’re going to have a mass of equipments shifting constantly from creature to creature, which just seems logistically difficult to keep track of.

Nitpicks/Templating: Everything looks right to me.

Overall: I have to assume stumpy Dwarven limbs are to blame for why they’re wearing shields on their shoulders rather than strapping them to their arms like the rest of us.

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@naban-dean-of-irritation - Niko, the Defiant

Flavour: Niko was immediately a beloved character for a lot of us, so I can definitely understand wanting to reimagine that character more in line with your perception of them. It’s hard replacing the first iteration of a planeswalker because all the lore we have available is the card that exists and stories based on that card - so it’s just inherently difficult for me to see how these abilities relate to the character, since it’s essentially establishing a different character with the same name.

Mechanics: The most glaring issue is the fact that the first ability essentially gives haste on a WU card, which qualifies as either a very strange design choice or a pretty significant oversight. The third ability also feels like it’s skirting the color pie, presumably attempting an Omniscience impression that just feels out of place for this pair. The uptick and downtick feel like they’re designed to do pretty similar things, both primarily saving creatures from unfortunate blocks. I suspect the reason is that the ‘instant speed on your turn’ effect pushed the design into rather narrow space, where two abilities came out very similar while the third simply doesn’t really benefit from the instant speed.

Nitpicks/Templating: No obvious templating woes.

Overall: As much as I respect their defiance, defying the color pie is where I draw the line.

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@nine-effing-hells - Fraenir, the Greed-Cursed

Flavour: I always enjoy top-down designs especially, and this story of a Dwarf hoarding treasures until they transform into a Dragon is such an excellent place to mine for those designs - and really, what set wouldn’t want more Dragons? The abilities themselves tell a story of murser and greed, even without needing flavour text to help it along. 

Mechanics: I think my biggest issue with this design is that rather than the transformation being something you work towards or work to avoid, it is awkwardly positioned between the two - there are times the Dwarf Berserker will be larger by virtue of controlling lots of non-Treasure artifacts, making it unclear what the play pattern of the card actually is. It does have the benefit of being easy to avoid transforming when you don’t want to, but I think it would suit the design better to arrange the abilities to make the comparisons between the two states clearer (for example, giving the Dwarf non-combat abilities and saving the combat abilities for the Dragon half).

Nitpicks/Templating: Easy mistake, you missed the word “token” in the sacrifice trigger.

Overall: I’m really curious what the art for a card like this would look like.

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@partlycloudy-partlyfuckoff - Pagan Chamberlain

Flavour: I have to assume the whole design was for a chance to use that flavour text, as the other aspects of the card don’t seem to align with Kaldheim as a setting - the world has no actual vampires, and the concept of a non-believer makes a lot less sense in a world where gods are as tangible as this one.

Mechanics: Similarly, this isn’t playing into any of the mechanical themes of the set; there isn’t even a strong monocolor theme to run counter to. I suspect the rationale is that each of the gods in the set are monocolor creatures, but seeing as there’s already a card in the set with protection from Gods, it seems strange to try to be subtler about it than that one.

Nitpicks/Templating: Nothing much to nitpick over.

Overall: In this set, the answer to that question is usually “an artifact.”

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@real-aspen-hours - Ill Omen

Flavour: The name aligns well with the foretell mechanic, and the flavour text helps connect an important story beat to a broader narrative and to the flavour of the card itself. I’d be a little reticent about including such a significant spoiler in flavour text, but perhaps there’s a way to phrase it so that it reads like a prophecy until you find out it’s already happened.

Mechanics: This is effectively three-for-one removal, which is a lot of value for a single uncommon. Locking it to sorcery speed gives at least some incentive not to foretell it, as that delays it for a full turn - it won’t be often you cast it straight, but that I can at least imagine the situations is a plus. It’s especially powerful in that when it isn’t useful as a removal spell, it allows you redraws for something more useful.

Nitpicks/Templating: Foretell shows up after the spell effect, even for those cards that care whether they were foretold. While we’re here, good catch on including a target in the card draw effect - while it would be easy to exclude one, ensuring that the spell has two targets keeps the whole thing from fizzling if the targeted creature disappears before it resolves.

Overall: This feels like it’s only a slight push away from being constructed playable, and I’d be interested to explore what more it takes to get it there.

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@snugz - Surtland Rimereader

Flavour: I rather like the flavour here, a Giant that’s able to see the future with the help of the snow allowing you a Future Sight effect specifically for snow cards is pretty satisfying. It’s not immediately obvious what the last ability represents, but the rest of the card feels like it sells it well enough anyway.

Mechanics: I’m not entirely sure that blue is still able to play lands off of this type of effect; the original obviously did, but none of the blue variations since then have, and I’m not sure ‘snow’ is a blue identity to bend for it. The triggered ability feels a little bit awkward with the overall design since you specifically don’t have much control over the first spell you cast when you’re doing so from the top of your deck.

Nitpicks/Templating: Good catch on the updated template for Future Sight, as I don’t think they’ve actually printed any cards with that wording yet. It was updated some time after Bolas’s Citadel was printed, and we’ve yet to have another card in that style see print.

Overall: Would’ve loved a rime-rhyme pun somewhere in the set, and this feels like an opportune place for it.

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@stormtide-leviathan - Kvasha, God of Magic // Kvasha’s Birth

Flavour: In this setting, the connection between enchantments and Spirits and flash doesn’t feel immediately obvious. Now naturally this is trying to create a connection where one didn’t exist previously, but it does feel like it muddles the flavour slightly to do so.

Mechanics: This is large and evasive enough to serve as a finisher even without making extra tokens, though the tokens can serve as some resiliency against removal. I’m not entirely sure how the flash ability relates to the rest of the card, except to change the template of the Saga’s first ability. If that were so important I’d have looked for a first chapter ability that could take advantage of being cast at instant speed, but then more likely I would’ve just cut the flash bit entirely.

Nitpicks/Templating: I’m not sure what it was intending, but there’s no way for a chapter ability to see the object it’s on entering the battlefield - that ability won’t resolve until well after the permanent has entered, and if it somehow re-entered the battlefield it would do so as an entirely new object. The last chapter ability will want to specify whose controller the object returns under (usually its owner’s), and you’ll want to move the ‘face-up’ bit into reminder text - you don’t need rules text to make it work that way, but it’s definitely worth clarifying for players who might not realise.

Overall: My favourite god designs in this set were the ones that let you use both sides with just one copy.

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@thedirtside - Ragnarock

Flavour: The setting for Kaldheim reworked the concept of Ragnarok into what they called a Doomskar, leaving the original name feeling out of place within the setting. The color combinations used for the spell also aren’t represented in the setting, making it difficult to imagine what part of the world this is supposed to be representing in practice.

Mechanics: The most obvious point here is that the foretell cost and the casting cost don’t overlap, making it almost impossible that any given deck will actually have the option of casting it both ways - since the options it provides are the only thing that makes foretell interesting, intentionally designing to hamper that doesn’t seem like a good use of the mechanic. The foretell cost is also much easier to pay than the casting cost, making the added bonus for foretelling the spell feel really counterintuitive.

Nitpicks/Templating: It’ll take a slightly wordier template to achieve the second part of this effect, something like: “For each permanent destroyed this way, CARDNAME deals damage to that permanent’s controller equal to that permanent’s mana value.”

Overall: That must be a really big rock.

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@theobligatorysql​ - The Sagas of Worlds

Flavour: One of the fascinating things about Sagas is the way they use art to represent the stories for them - this set uses carvings, reliefs, even tattoos as a form of storytelling. So while the idea of compiling them all into a single tome is cute, it feels to me like it isn’t exactly fitting for the world itself. I could definitely see it as the work of an outsider - Tamiyo, for example - but it feels like it makes less sense as something native to the plane.

Mechanics: I’m a sucker for designs in the vein of Treasure Map and Mazemind Tome, so an artifact with a cheap scry effect is right up my alley - though admittedly, I’m not sure why this inventivises scrying to the bottom as that complicates the calculus and will cause players to make bad scrying decisions for perceived value a nonzero amount of the time. I’m never a big fan of tutoring as it tends to lead to repetitive gameplay, and the fact that it takes at least 4 full turns to set this up to draw even a second card means that it’s nearly always going to be fetching up a cheap Saga instead of a random draw.

Nitpicks/Templating: I’d probably just use “scried” in the first ability, though admittedly that templated hasn’t been used yet.

Overall: This would be a great opportunity to finally get the word “edda” on a Magic card.

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@wolkemesser - Bard of the Fallen Meek

Flavour: This was actually far and away my favourite submission to this challenge in terms of flavour, as I love the way it draws attention to the difference between Istfell and Starnheim, and shows regular individuals within the setting reacting to the concept of the Worthy. The flavour text itself could probably stand to be pared down to be a little punchier about the point it’s making, but I absolutely love what it’s trying to do.

Mechanics: That said, the implementation is a little messier. The skulk mechanic was used in one block five years ago, so certainly doesn’t qualify as evergreen. I like that the creature itself has stats that make it easy to safely get its Boast ability going, though the ability itself feels rather unexciting. I’m not sure what about the card demands the double white in the mana cost, or even what makes this a rare over an uncommon.

Nitpicks/Templating: You missed capitalising “Spirit” in the Boast ability.

Overall: I would’ve loved to pick this as a winner, next time try an extra pass or two to make sure you’re hitting all the aspects of the challenge.