#Sick babu

[skylarkking]

These allergies are KILLING me! Feel like I'm dying on top of my normal neurological shite

[joonipertree]

Imagine being Mikey's girlfriend and having so many teenagers giving you respect as if you're the leader of the number one biker gang in Tokyo.

Imagine how confused everyone in your school is when a group of bulky, testosterone filled, aggressive high schoolers come and bow at a 90° angle. You're staring with reddened cheeks because ???????????

But they're off to go to class without a word, muttering to themselves. Your classmates and friends are like: "dude what the fuck happened?" and you're like "I don't even know."

Then some fuckers come and offer to hold your bag for you? To get you lunch? Someone gave you their bento? And everyone starts noticing how it's only the delinquents that do it. Mostly the ones wearing the Tokyo Manji uniform.

If there's a Toman member in class, you bet your ass they'd threaten the teacher for you. Like "They got that answer right!!" and you're like "no!!! I didn't!!!"

You're so scared your teachers were gonna give you detention. Or call your parents to let them know their child had a gaggle of delinquents doing their bidding.

God, imagine if they call you a title. Like "princess" or something. I can't even think of a title suited for this. But like something cringey that gets you annoyed and the clueless people around you start having even weirder theories.

Biggest one? You're the Yakuza's daughter.

IMAGINE!!!! IF SOME OF THE TOMAN INNER CIRCLE WERE THERE SJSNSNSJKSKWKA

I'm imagining Baji and chifuyu laughing their ass off in the corner, on the floor, gasping for air. And when you notice them, you run and ask if they had anything to do with this.

Baji wishes and chifuyu was growing purple from lack of oxygen. You kicked at them and wacked them with your book. WHICH MADE THINGS WORSE BECAUSE YOUR FELLOW STUDENTS ARE SEEING U BEAT UP GANG MEMBERS. YOURE A RAGING MONSTER IN THEIR EYES NOW.

If the toman members see this, do you think they'd be afraid of you? They'd be shaking in their boots at someone most likely half their size and that couldn't even win an arm wrestling match.

You'd ask Baji and chifuyu to tell them to stop. They would very loudly call you princess and run away cackling.

I'm pretty sure in highschool, the inner circle go to the same school. I don't remember but Takemitchy, Hakkai and Chifuyu go to the same school right?

If you think Takemitchy would help, chifuyu convinced him not to. Anyone else there is just someone you couldn't get a hold of. And you just ended up ignoring the delinquents and going about your day. Which just made you look like even more of a gang leader, walking down a hallway with a blank stare while people around you bowed.

Some non delinquents call you princess and you're telling them that "no, it's a prank. A sick joke that my boyfriend is playing on me."

People realise very quickly why you were being treated like royalty when the school day ended.

Because lo and behold, The Invincible Mikey was standing at the gate, leaning against his infamous bike as he waited for you. People just stopped and stared, not bothering leaving the vicinity, out of curiosity and maybe fear.

You see Mikey and start stomping towards him, everyone holding their breath because 'the yakuzas daughter was going head to head with the captain of the Tokyo Manji Gang.'

But Mikey was smiling brightly, arms open for a hug as he made grabby hands at you.

You came close and kicked him on the shin.

I honestly can't imagine everyone's reaction. Stunned silence. It's a sense of doom I think. A sense of 'rest in peace'. But also, the utter shock and respect you'd just accumulated from your peers in a second. You had some mad fucking balls to do that shit. Even full grown adults wouldn't do something like that to Sano Manjiro. People were ready to join your followers and praise you.

The kick was weak by the way, Mikey didn't even flinch. He just looked confused and then you ranted to him about your day and suddenly he was fully relying on his Babu to hold him up. Because my god, was he laughing his ass off. He couldn't breathe.

If Ken-chin was with him, let's be honest he would be, the man would also be on his knees dying of laughter. Just...imagine every Toman member that's part of the inner circle.... laughing vehemently at you for this.

With grumbles and glares, you try walking home by yourself but Mikey is quick to pull you back into his arms. His laughter hadn't stopped but he was leaning on you now.

The way one sinewy hand was on your waist while the other was tangled in your hair...made it very clear what you guys were to each other.

It was a collective 'oh.....oh' moment.

Mikey peppered many apologetic kisses on your cheeks and you whined about how embarrassing it was and how people were watching. Unbeknownst to you, Mikey had slyly made eye contact with anyone staring and glared daggers at them.

Ken-chin then decided to stand in front of the two of you and throw daggers at the on lookers for him.

And as much as you wanted to push away, you leant into his kisses and let him give you one on the nose and forehead. He tasted sweet on your lips too and your arms were around his neck, pulling away to stop the boy from going overboard like he always did.

"I'll treat you to lunch to make up for it?" Mikey whisperer gently, eyes soft and lovesick.

"Promise to call a meeting and tell everyone to stop?"

Mikey snorted, "Yes princess."

The punch on his arm was a lot harder. Mikey made an exaggerated pained expression, snickering to himself as he pulled you in close.

"It's not like it's a lie, though. You should be treated like royalty and have everyone do your bidding."

The blush that rose on your cheeks made his heart flutter.

"Only you can....treat me like that."

Oh he's not letting go of you any time soon.

Bonus: Later on, when you meet Baji and Chifuyu...they call you princess and burst out laughing. You promptly throw both of your shoes at them.

I also feel like if the Haitani brothers caught wind of this, it'd just be the worst for you. They are the snarkiest motherfuckers.

[dellalyra]

ᴇɴᴅɢᴀᴍᴇ - Mɪᴋᴇʏ sᴀɴᴏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

ᴀ/ɴ: 𝖺 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌？ 𝗉𝗈𝗍𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗂𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒． 𝖺 𝗋𝖾𝗏𝗂𝗏𝖺𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗈𝗄𝗋𝖾𝗏 𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗂𝗇𝗋𝗈𝗍 𝖻𝗋𝗈𝗎𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗇．𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖺𝗅 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾𝗅𝗂𝗇𝖾，𝗂𝗇 𝗆𝗒 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗆𝗂𝗄𝖾𝗒 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗈𝗆𝖺𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝗌𝗂𝗆𝗂𝗅𝖺𝗋 𝖺𝗀𝖾 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝟤𝟢 𝗈𝗋 𝗌𝗈 𝗂𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌．

𝖢𝖶： 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺， 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘤 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘮𝘦，𝘢 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘧 𝘴𝘦𝘹 𝘫𝘰𝘬𝘦， 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦，𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴 𝘪𝘥𝘪𝘰𝘵𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦， 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦

“Who’s that…?” Takemichi asks, baffled at the sight of a very pretty girl - clad in ToMan uniform, standing beside Mitsuya laughing.

“Who?” Draken scans.

“Beside Mitsuya.”

“That, Takemitchi, is Mikey’s surprise.” Draken smirks, clapping the blonde on the back and once again inadvertently winding someone after forgetting not everyone is built like a refrigerator.

After a moment of recovering, coughing and wheezing, Takemichi continues his inquiries into the identity of the mystery girl.

“What do you mean Mikey’s surprise?”

“I forget you’re still a rookie. Just watch.” Draken smirk, crouching to sit on the steps of the shrine.

So, he did. The shrine grounds began to fill up as the other captains and their vices arrived. Takemichi’s eyes kept sliding to glance at the girl, leaning on her bike. The bike was certainly eye catching - matte black, with pink LED underlights and matching detailing. Sitting on the handlebars was a black helmet with LED lined cat ears poking from the top. She blended in well with the other ToMan members, chatting casually and seemingly in deep discussion about something with Mitsuya.

Was she Mitsuya’s girl? No - because why would that be a surprise for Mikey? That - and Mitsuya definitely had said he was single. She was definitely really pretty, a total eye catcher. She seemed roughly Mikey and Draken’s age, by the look of things.

After a while, and well past the expected time, the roar of the final expected motorcycle echoed through the shrine.

The black CB250T skidded to a stop, a rare lack of care for the beloved ‘Babu’. The blonde atop it leaped off the seat and sprinted toward the mystery girl, snatching her up by the waist and spinning her tight in his arms.

“Y/N-chan! You’re home!” Came Mikey’s (slightly muffled by the girls hair) voice, as the rest of ToMan’s inner circle laughed and cheered - seemingly part of a joke that Takemitchi didn’t understand.

A squeal came from the girl, as Mikey spun her faster.

“Manjiro Sano! You’ll give me motion sickness!” The girl, Y/N, laughed.

Still laughing, and with a bright smile and sparkling eyes that Takemitchi hadn’t seen on Mikey’s face before, he let her down with uncharacteristic gentleness.

“When did you get home?” He asks, setting the girl on her feet with the care of handling a porcelain teacup.

“Last night. Ken-chin picked me up from the train station, thought it would be fun to surprise you.” She says, fixing the lapel of Mikey’s jacket.

Mikey’s blonde head whipped around to Draken who lay smirking against his own bike.

“Ken-chin, you fucking traitor! You told me you’d tell me when you were picking her up so I could go too!” Mikey sulks.

A booming laugh comes from beside Takemichi as Draken hears Mikey’s complaint.

“Sorry for picking up my own damn sister!” The vice-commander shrugs.

Takemichi nods, thinking Draken had a point - wait… sister?

“Wait - Draken - you have a sister?!”

“You’re looking at her, kid.” Draken nods at Y/N, who waves and smiles from the vice grip hug-from-behind Mikey has her in.

“Half-sister. We had the same mom. Different dads. Kenny got the height. I’m Y/N, you must be Takemitchi.” She says, in a warm voice and kind eyes shining, stroking absentmindedly the hand Mikey has clutched around her waist.

“You’re never abandoning me again.” Mikey groans.

“I was gone for 2 months to look after my grandma, ‘Jiro.” Y/N laughs.

“2 months is too long! Ken-chin was all I had and he doesn’t smell like cherry blossom! I’m coming with you if you ever leave again.” Mikey stomps.

Takemichi takes note of how Mikey knows how you smell, and actively missed it - as well as the new name he’d heard for Mikey - ‘Jiro - you were the only person he’d heard call Mikey that.

In the background, Baji lifts the seat of the girls bike, and takes out a bag of candy hidden under some stuff.

“Knew it! Oi, Chifuyu, she still keeps the good stuff in the bike!” He said, skipping off toward Chifuyu with the candy in hand. You move to run after him, shouts of ‘Keisuke Baji, you fucking thief! I trusted that information to you!’ However, the struggle was a fruitless endeavour as Mikey refused to let you go from his vice like koala grip but did something that must be reserved solely for you and mid-shout of cursing Baji’s bloodline half a taiyaki was shoved in your mouth and you instantly settled down and smiled - mouth fun with a fish tail hanging out of you mouth and a pat to the arms on your waist.

Draken just laughs and Takemichi is reminded of the fact that the ToMan founders and a few others have been side by side, growing up together since barely in the double digits.

“Y/N’s my baby sister. There’s only a year and a half between us. Her pa was a little better than mine, he actually knew her, since he was a regular client - he’s pretty high up in gang shit in Kyoto. Still a useless prick, but she loves his mom - her grandma, she had a hip replacement 2 months ago so Y/N went to the countryside to take care of her for a while.” Draken explain to Takemichi while popping a fresh piece of gum in his mouth.

“Why didn’t you talk about her?” Takemichi asks.

“You talk about shit you miss?” Draken shrugs, gruff with the truth of missing his sister.

“So she’s ToMan too?” The rookie asks.

“Sure is. First division vice captain.” Draken nods, a hint of pride in his resolute face.

“Wait but - how? She doesn’t look -” Takemichi is interrupted quickly by a laughing Draken.

“Like she can fight an ant?”

“Exactly!”

“Size isn’t everything, look at Mikey. Underestimating that girl has lead many assholes go broken noses and split lips.” Draken smiles.

Takemichi supposes that’s probably accurate.

Baji walks over and plops himself down on Draken’s other side, half empty bag of candy in his hand.

“So how strong is she?” Takemichi asks, nodding to the girl now sat beside Mikey showing him pictures of the garden she helped tend with her grandma.

“Who?” Baji asks with a mouthful of sherbet.

“Your vice-captain.” Draken replies, snagging a candy out of the bag.

“She’s fast, that’s her strong point. Speed and agility. Could probably take Mitsuya.” Draken ponders, a sense of pride in the way he straightens his shoulders.

“Not in the way she’d like to take Mikey.” Baji snorts, before getting a smack on the head from the girls brother.

“It’s cute two sets of siblings are dating.” Takemichi points out.

“Huh?” Baji asks.

“Well, there’s the Sano siblings - Mikey and Emma, and Ryuguji siblings, you and Y/N.” Takemichi doesn’t know why he, the newcomer, had to explain.

“You and Emma are dating.” He says to Draken, who nods with a small smile.

“And Mikey and Y/N are dating.”

“Nope.” Baji pipes up.

“What do you mean?”

“They’re not dating.” Draken shakes his head.

“Wait - really?” This made no sense to Takemitchi. Wasn’t koala hugs, or something like sharing a treasured snack something romantic?

“Really.”

“Even the rookie sees it.” Baji laughs.

“But the way they act!”

“This has been going on for years, Takemitchi. They’re both fucking dumb. Neither of them are able to see how whipped the other is for them. Oblivious idiots.” The new voice made Takemitchi jump, not realising Mitsuya had slid in behind him.

“But they like each other?”

“Y/N admitted it to me, yeah.” Draken nods, which made sense.

“Mikey told me.” Baji says, wiping pink dust off his face.

“Some shit about being worried the other will reject them or more bullshit like that, I don’t fuckin’ know.” Draken grumbles.

All heads turn around to where the subjects of the conversation were sat.

Mikey was now sitting in the ground, on criss crossed legs between your knees as you sat on the step above and chatting animatedly about something while you used your fingers to comb through and retie his hair, the same way your brother did. The smile on your face as you listened to Mikey, and the way there was a visible tenderness to the way your fingers ran through his hair was more proof on your side, and Mikey was equally as obvious. When you finished, he lay his head on your thigh, and traces circles on your knee with a touch one may reserve for something fragile and smiled a real smile, a soft one, as you leaned down to nibble on the taiyaki in his hand.

Moments like this is when Takemichi is reminded that all the bad shit, all the timelines and the pain? It was all worth it - because a constant in every timeline was these two, and making it to the final one made him proud.

Now they’ll have their happy story. Their peaceful one.

Mikey does have his first official bike race next week, after all.

[willownwisp]

ree's leon valentine's day advent <3

hi everyone. <3 as the leon kennedy fluff truther, i'm making an advent for valentine's day because pookie deserves so much love! everyday, i'll be posting a fic ranging from nsfw/sfw fluff for babu leon, i'll be putting out the scenarios and snippets below if y'all are interested. author's note: i've been meaning to put this out like a week ago when i finally figured out the problem w my account as to why tumblr wasn't letting me reply to comments :( but sadly, college got me so head empty. anyway, i've already got 2 days worth of fics already finished so i hope y'all can give me a read. <3

FEBRUARY 8 𖹭 nice legs, daisy dukes. (vendetta!leon x fem!reader) Leon feels like a creep, fuck that. He definitely looks like a creep. Thirty-six year old in all of his 5'11 glory standing outside his girlfriend's college leant against his Ducati like a dick, carrying a box of those, instagrammable pastries you always like to look at. It doesn't hurt to be sweet. Not when you walk — run, at the sight of him in your preppy mini dress, highlighting those long, long legs. Nothing is sweeter, especially when it's wrapped around him.

FEBRUARY 9 𖹭 starry skies, blue eyes. (re4r!leon x fem!reader) Stars dot stygian skies, the night is young, the moon is high. Leon's heart soars with your every laughter. The way your eyes close and your nose scrunches. God he was so in love with you, he could forgive the fact that the tent should have been up hours ago before night. You swear you remember your knots from your wide-eyed Girl Scout days, and he swears these silly moments with you are what makes life bearable.

FEBRUARY 10 𖹭 cold woes. (re4r!leon x fem!reader) Leon S. Kennedy. The apple of his instructors' eyes (and yours), he's a top graduate in the Police Academy for fuck's sake. He's decimated hordes of zombies in his first day as a rookie cop. Endured military training in the middle of nowhere, he's saved the President's daughter. He doesn't get sick. Only that he does catch a cold at the expense of prioritizing you, his clumsy girlfriend, who forgot to wear a jacket on a camping trip, offering his warm clothes to you. He doesn't regret it, he likes taking care of you, but there's something adorable about your sheepish apologies as you wait on him. He could get used to being babied. FEBRUARY 11 𖹭 love on me. (di!leon x fem!reader) As much as Leon loves the sun, the beaches, the tropics. Oh what he would give to become a beach bum in his next life instead of being smacked by bioweapons day in, night out, and being a good bitch to good ol' U.S of A. Unfortunately, after the events of Alcatraz, maybe he's had enough of the sea for now. He gives himself a pat on the back, takes out a chunk of his savings to go to Japan because you've been eyeing it. You said you were interested in the food, culture, and sights. So why in the world were you dragging him to a love hotel? FEBRUARY 12 𖹭 fill up your cup. (re6!leon x fem!reader) He feels himself spiraling recently, turning to the bottle because a glass is never troubled by his woes. He breaks them of course, can't help it, seems like his life is doomed to him breaking in the end. Fragments of glass scatters on the floor, vodka spills on the floor splashes it around like his grief because his body can only take so much. You arrive as he tries to pick them up, attempts to pick himself up. You whisper assurance, he doesn't deserve it. The way you look at him ardently, the gentleness that is your existence. You empty out his pain, and fill it with love. FEBRUARY 13 𖹭 the thrill, the love. (damnation!leon x fem!reader) He wills his old Yamaha to go faster. Your dainty arms clinging to him, the softness of your touch as his speed breaks the sound barrier. What started as mere curiosity turns into rituals. Secrets that only the both of you know. He knocks on your door at midnight, drives you around town. He scolds you every time your arm breaks free, throwing them to the wind. You don't care, you love the thrill, you love him. Leon admits that there is something alluring to the thrill of the chase. Perhaps that's why he's spent his years chasing Ada, but with you it was different. FEBRUARY 14 𖹭 kiss it better. (di!leon x fem!reader) Leon is a man full of stories, his pain, his peace, his fears, his needs. There is more to him than just being a formidable weapon against bioterrorism. He never was a weapon, just a flesh and blood human, and in his mortality there are scars. Deep within him, and littered in his skin. You kiss the faded slash on his hand, he tells you how he'd got it from when Ashley Graham had tried to stab him under the influence of the plaga. You kiss it again, and what he doesn't tell you is the wave of warmth that washes his entire being, it tugs on his very soul. You kiss the scars because it's there, because it's him, and in his reverie, he thinks you truly are his person.

[netherfeildren]

The Cassandra Complex : Chapter IX : Persephone

Series Masterlist : Moodboard

(Din Djarin x F!Reader)

Content Warnings: Canon typical violence; Angst

A/N: *babu frik voice* heeeyyyyyyyy

Rating: Explicit 18+

Word Count: 5.6K

Read on AO3

PART II

CHAPTER IX : PERSEPHONE

What are we made of but hunger and rage?

Anne Carson, Plainwater: Essays and Poetry

Din pauses mid-hunt, heart jolting back against his ribs – on Corellia’s Maker blasted surface for a bounty once again. He’d avoided returning here since that last time, but with the kid gone now, with nothing to do with himself but count his losses, he’d sucked it up, taken the private contract, and now… something in the distance, dying or coming alive… it rings, it howls. 

The call comes again: low, far off, electrifying, agonized. He changes direction and follows it, recognizing it like he’d recognize the call of his own name, his ad’ika’s cries, the sound of a heart beating or dying. 

He’d imagined this a million times in a million different ways, turning a corner, another, suddenly dizzy and sick and terrified, terrified. He hastens his pace, holding his blaster tight against his thigh to keep it from jostling, and promises himself he won’t actually think of it, won’t imagine the full dream or nightmare of it, not yet, not yet… but there is something out there, just ahead. Something that grabs hold of the pillar of his spine and tugs, knows him, calls to him. 

His heart beats faster than an X-wing, and he can’t help but fall into weakness and hope. He lets the thought of you bleed in, something he allows himself only in the most dire of moments, when he’s so alone or so afraid or so angry he can’t control the missing. Your face, your voice, your scent like wading through water, the memory of your skin like sharing your name with someone for the first time, like flying or being alive; a knowing unlike anything else, like experiencing the whole world, your whole life in one single blink, holding it like a just-about-to-fall tear over the ledge of your eye. 

He remembers you like he remembers being alive, always there, always present, the next beat of his heart. 

He tries to measure his breathing, feels his throat spasm, almost choke him, and he forces himself with all of his considerable strength to control his movements, to not break out into a full unthinking sprint. One more slink around a cornered building, and then you’re just there. Just there in the distance. The lines and slopes of the girl he used to love. 

Nothing more than the movement of breathing shadow, and he wants to dwell on the past tense of his own thoughts, fixate and pick them apart, but he moves past it. Focuses on the image, perhaps invisible to someone who’d not come to love the dark as he had, but he finds you, he’d always be able to pick you out of the darkness. Sliding slowly along the building face, as if melded to the steel, slithering along the night like a mercury thief. 

Din felt he’d become a hostile, barren wasteland of a man these past two years; quick to anger, quick to aggression, worse than ever before; miasma within his heart now, no longer the sun. The only thing that had tempered him, gentled him, had been Grogu, and now even he too, was gone. And he knew the dark saber hadn’t helped, if anything, the thing had worsened his issues. The power of it wasn’t something that complimented this too restless heart of his.

You’re moving up ahead slowly, and he watches the line of your back, the slopes of your shoulders, the shifting of your hair, and he’d hoped for so long, all these agonizing days and months and years apart, that he’d look over his shoulder one day, and see you in the distance, that a crowd would part and you’d be there. Through his mission for Grogu, losing his ad’ika, this time now, alone, he’d looked for you, hoped for you. 

He can feel your focus elsewhere, ignorant of your surroundings, honed on the pull of the shadows around you, perhaps, as you keep yourself cloaked, or your steps forward, to where he does not know, but there’s zero awareness in his direction. And he realizes that for the first time in this catch and trap game the two of you had always enjoyed playing – you don’t feel him coming.

You pause suddenly, hand like a flash of the sky trailing along the building face, bracing yourself there for a moment. He’s a several paces distance away from you, and he’d have thought you’d have sensed him by now, but as you come to a standstill beneath a jutting awning, a light drizzle starts to mist the air, and it’s as if the two of you are separated by one final veil, one last test. You, apart, in your own world, him, waiting to be let in. And you stand there, still and propped up by the side of the building, head tilting back slowly to peer up at the dark sky above, and with the slightest shift of your chin, there you are. Your face again before him for the first time in two years. 

Din sees you again. 

And suddenly, the shock and anger clear from his head long enough to realize that there’s something off – your gait or your posture or the careful measuredness with which you press each foot in front of the other, a strange limp and shift that favors your right side, the way you’re using the building’s face to keep yourself upright.

A cold dread freezes deep in his belly. 

Something’s wrong. 

He watches the flutter of your lashes as you close your eyes to let the cold raining mist fall upon your upturned face, and the sight of you deals Din a famished, hollow feeling; his heart working in a fast and broken rhythm. There’s something wrong, something wrong, and the organ works so hard it hurts him, almost forces the metal around his chest to rattling with its ferocity. 

The world suddenly seems inverted, mirrorlike. The black puddles on the sides of the streets, filling with dark mercury that reflect the sight of you. And he can feel each breath filter through his lungs, as if he could taste each particle of oxygen as it moves through his body, stepping out and away from himself, away from you, frightened, anxious, lost, lost, lost. He wants this, and yet, he does not. Had wished for this for days and hours and years and weeks and yet suddenly, he wants to turn and run far away and not face the reality of his past and his heart. 

I’ve lost my way, ended up in some strange, narrow land where I recognize nothing. Not even myself, not even you. Almost. 

This unexpected bounty seems like nothing more than a bone chilling triumph.

You’re the same, and yet not. Your body still soft, your curves still lush, but there’s a sort of meagerness, a stillness to you that’d not been there two years ago.

It seems you’d both lost something. 

He has to take a moment to catch his breath, hiding within the shadows of the buildings edge, he mimics your lean against the damp wall, and you’re still looking up at the falling sky, impossibly, more beautiful than he remembered, and he’s suddenly afraid that he’ll vomit inside his helmet. His heart flutters and writhes and screams so that he’s dizzy, tremulous, sick and hot and cold all over, on the verge of tears. Tears? And then suddenly, he’s angry. He’s so fucking angry from one moment to the next. Shocked into fury. How can you be here? Leaving him to muddle about in his shock and disorientation, prancing about this planet which he’d told you, he’d told you, was too dangerous. You never listened to him. 

He moves again, propelled by righteous anger. 

And he’s silent, silent; Din is nothing but the ghost you made him. He’s almost there, his fingertips stretching towards this dream he’s had for so many days, for two years and endless seconds. He is so close. You pull your eyes from the rain, looking away, down the opposite end of the dark street, and it’s as if he can feel your mind thrum and whirl in all directions but his. Turn to look at me, turn and notice me. Why the fuck haven’t you noticed me? I’ve been searching for you for two years and my whole life. And then a sudden cacophony of crashing and desperate clumsiness, no longer measured or restrained, full of hunger and rage, and you finally realize; jumping, skittering ahead suddenly, spinning blindingly. So fast you’re a blur, frightened out of your skin. 

He doesn’t realize you’ve moved until you’re almost out of his reach once again. And Din snaps into color and focus at that singular threat, that hint of the possibility of repeated loss. He moves – covers a distance of approximately fifty yards in no more than five or six seconds. Coming up behind you fast and hard so that there’s no mistaking the sound of muscle and beskar and man barreling down upon you, teeth bared and ready to snap you up by the nape, drag you away, kept forever, were in not for the prison of his own promises. 

You move again like a flash and a wink, and then you’re spinning, spinning, pulling the violet of plasma from your cloak on him in one of those lovely flourishes you’d always preferred. Like a dancer and a swan and the love of his life. You pull your weapon on him and Din feels that ferocious love that brandishes teeth and your name spark and burst alive within his heart once again; amazed and uncaring of the threat on his own life.

It beats, it beats, he thinks, I live. What does it matter what happens after this? I’m alive again.

You bare your teeth at him in a tiny, fractured snarl, incongruous with the immensity of the fear held in your eyes. But that bursts too, and at the last moment, when he finally remembers he has to be alive to take you for himself again, that he can’t let you actually kill him in a fit of fright, that he’s angry with you and needs to tell you so, he brings his arms up to block the death dealing blow. His vambraces spark between the two of you, and he wonders suddenly if every man that’s stood in this place Din is now in, waiting to meet his end at your hand, had felt as grateful and awed as he does now, nothing but violet ends and eyes like a whisper and a scream.  

And when those eyes focus, when you realize it’s him, that soft mouth he’d dreamt of endlessly, spilled his seed to the memory of in his sleep, for months after you’d gone, rolling around like a dog in the nest of your blankets trying to find any last wisp of your scent, it falls open on a small gasp of shock, wet and lush, something that used to belong to him, his name sitting silent on the tip of your tongue as if he could see the very shape of it. There’s something strange happening in your eyes in the moment recognition meets cognizance, where memory meets present, and then they’re both like a scream, fracturing with horror, perhaps, shock, surely. Nothing he wants to see there in this moment. 

They shutter, go flat, deep and fathomless and that fear of his is back, his heart like a momentary sun come to life with your recognition goes dark and cold again, and you freeze still and thrumming with repressed energy, all the strength in the galaxy seemingly held within this slip of a girl he used to love, and then metamorphosing instantly into a supernova. As if all the energy surrounding the two of you is sucked into a vacuum only you wield, something like a momentary hovering of hollow silence before you’re exploding in movement, violence, the kind that salivates and hungers. 

You pull your saber back, a jagged shriek in your throat, and he realizes you’re as angry as he is, even more. When you bring the saber down against his vambraces again he feels the force of it, he feels the Force, ringing in his teeth. His molars, grinding down into nothing against each other, holding you at bay as you bring your blade down on him again and again and again. And in the very millisecond before he pulls it from his belt and bears the terrible, dark truth of it to you, he thinks that he shouldn’t, that he should just let you kill him. It’s your right after all. You’d owned him from that very first moment in that dark alcove on that nothing planet in the middle of a too large, too lonely galaxy. His life had been yours since then, and so it only fell to reason that it should be yours to end as well. 

But he does not. And when he engages the Darksaber, lets it meet the purple haze of your lightsaber, a momentary collision of two giants, the pause the two of you take to breathe each other in is like breathing in life again after two years of barren death. 

The sight of it sets you off worse than the sight of his mantle. Something affronted like how dare he wield your weapon? You spin, parry, spin, parry. Your blows ringing in his ears, sending his heart to beat in his throat, and most surprising of all, or perhaps not, there’s nothing restrained in the Force you strengthen your strikes with. You want to hurt him, and he can feel the energy of you thrumming through the bones of his arms, strengthening him further, strangely, rather than weakening him. And he thinks again, something is wrong. 

You’re expelling energy too quickly, and you send a burst of the Force forward, towards his chest, trying to push him back, away, but it’s weak, a tepid attempt at best. The Darksaber hums and spits in his grasp, heavy as lead, and he returns one hard blow, bringing the terrible thing up above his head and with the swing of his arms, an executioner set to kill this weak rebellion of yours, down to meet you in a cross of the two blades so that your faces are right up against each other. You pant mist into the air, fogging his vizor, and he feels his cock thicken.

You’re so close. And he is so predictable. 

“It’s you,” he breathes. 

He wants to demand you scream at him, say his name, curse him, anything. Let me hear your voice, he wants to beg, but you spin again, twirl to bring your saber in a slicing motion towards his throat, another screech of painful frustration. He blocks, shoves you back, takes in the lagging of your strength, the too fast gulps of breath, the tremble in the lines of your arms. He deals you another hard blow, harder than the first. He’d lost things along the way since you, yes, but he’d gained others. He was stronger now, older, perhaps, but with a harshness about him that granted a sort of advantage in the ways he maneuvered himself, fought his battles. Something he’d not possessed before he’d lost so much. 

You send another kick of the Force towards him, this one even weaker than the first, and he hears the low, pained whine you gurgle in your throat, sees the break in your expression. Pain. He shoves you back.

“What the fuck’s wrong with you?” He spits, graveled and low through the modulator. The sound of him does something else to you. He watches a shiver and a jerk move through you, something jagged, particularly painful, and then you go sort of limp, holding yourself with a sort of wanness, your eyes seeming to lose all color and shape and depth in the instant the sound of his voice rings. He sees the strength in your fingers go limp around the hilt of your blade, and he knocks it from your grasp, sends it flying. When the dull thud of it extinguishing against the ground sounds, it seems to bring you to momentary wakefulness again so that you’re skipping backwards and away from him, pulling a blade from a fold in your tunic close to your breast, a tiny, silver thing. Inconsequential – no, beskar, the most important thing in the world. 

“What’s this?”

“For you.”

“Are you sharing your weapons with me now?”

“I’d share anything with you.”

“Another shiny thing to remind me of my shiny?” You’d laughed, but he’d seen the truth of sadness in your eyes. The reality that said, you’d not share everything, not that one last thing. And when he’d covered your eyes and lifted the lip of his helmet to kiss you soft and slow and sorry, his words had rung hollow and false and rebellious in his ears. 

You pull the little knife back, your other palm held out in front of you towards him, as if that single hand had the power to keep him at bay. The sight of it breaks him. He extinguishes the Darksaber, lets it fall to the ground to keep yours company because of course, of course that hand holds power. All the power in the whole galaxy, held in the small palm of an even smaller girl who’d take up all the space in the sky if only she saw in herself what he does. 

He takes in the tremble in your hand as you hold it up towards him, and Din feels, suddenly, so tired. 

You’re terrified. Alit with fear and power, something that almost glows with the force of your terror, the warp and weft of all life in the cosmos made visible, but there is a jaggedness to the manifestation of it. Something dark and serrated, all your hurts visible and plain for him to see. 

He pauses, terribly frightened, terribly sad, suddenly. What had been done to you? 

He’d been angry at you for so long, he is still angry. At times, he’d even feared he hated you. It was like some sort of betrayal you’d forced him into, a betrayal you’d wrought by your own hand, driving that love he’d felt to confused resentment colored in hurt. 

But there is something ridiculously, illogically frightened inside of you now as the two of you face each other once again. On the verge of tears or breaking, your fragmentation, obvious for everyone to see. He focuses on that small, trembling hand, and he’s entirely bested, and you smile, teeth flashing white, but limp and he knows it for the lie it is. 

-

“Oh, you again?” Your mocking laugh rings more false than any lie you’d ever told him. There is only the truth of tears in your voice. 

Your first words to him, an echo of a previous night. Terrible. Cowardly. You take a step back, another that he matches, and your tether, that dark red thread screams the song of finally. 

Finally, finally we’re together again.

You take him in, the long drape of his cloak, the frayed and worn edges. The old rusted vermillion of his armor, gone, replaced by something newer, stronger, better. The helmet, the helmet, the helmet, that dark, yawning pit of the transparisteel visor. 

Beskar and Creed and centuries of culture and religion and the Way. 

Your Mandalorian. 

An entire sun in the heart of a single man and enough love in yours to fill the entirety of the darkness in the sky for him.

“Maker, you’re extra shiny now.”

He answers with a frustrated hiss. “What are you doing here? Didn’t I tell you to stay off Corellia?” Said as if no time had passed at all, and he was still allowed to boss you around. He takes a step forward, and you flash a snarl at him, as menacing as you can muster with the state you’re currently in, tightening your grip on his little knife which tells more than you want him to know at this moment. 

“That was so long ago, and you always talk so much nonsense. You can’t really expect me to remember all of it, can you?” He growls again, another menacing foot forward. “Stay back,” you warn but take your own step forward too, slicing the blade through the air towards his neck. He blocks your arm, catching you by the bend of your elbow and shoves you back hard. Hard enough to send you into a clumsy stumble so that your back slams into the hard wall behind you, your head cracking against the stone. You’re left dizzy, disoriented, and there’s a particularly raw scrap of skin over your left shoulder that hadn’t been allowed to heal in weeks. Nausea bobs in your throat, floods your mouth, and he jerks at the sound of your skull meeting uncompromising stone, makes to reach for you, but then catches himself and freezes when you flinch away from him, going deathly still at the half animal groan of pain you let out. The helmet cocks slowly to the side, taking you in in that predatory way of his, all hunter. 

“What’s wrong with you?” His voice is so level and so cold and so frightening. 

The feeling of not knowing each other is suddenly so strong that you turn your face away from him sharply, sucking in quick panting breaths through your open mouth, tasting the putrid Corellian air, cold and slick against your tongue. This is wrong – this discomfort, this feeling of having been away from each other for so long that you’re once again strangers, that you can’t immediately recall the feel of his hands on you in tenderness, the smell of his hair, the taste of his come. But: liar, liar, you could never forget those things. 

You try and measure your voice, fail. “Nothing’s wrong with me. What’s wrong with you?” Slow breaths through your nose. Control yourself, please, please, get ahold of yourself. 

“Are you hurt?” He spits, all anger and threat of aggression now. 

“No.”

“Do you know how to do anything other than tell lies?”

“No,” You snap back. Truth finally, for what else are you to do? A girl who was never really so much a girl, but creature, creature, dark creature. Thalassian hissing and betrayal in the shape of a little Twi'lek sound and stumble through your broken mind. Molded into something worse by your own hands and weakness and fear. And you’re so angry at the fate of you, at the cards you’d been dealt. You want to curse and spit at him, you want these two years to go on forever, and you want him to take you into his arms and kiss you. 

You want him to never have to see you as you are now, for you to only live in his memory as he’d left you, well and his, and you want to break something. No— something is about to be broken here, but you can’t be sure what. You think it might be you, but you have no heart left to break, he took it, it was eaten, and too little mind remains for further shattering. 

The terrible voices that had lived inside your head your entire life, these past endless months, your own voice in that dark hole to the memory of: Master, I tried to make myself into what you wanted so many times and failed so many more times and can only seem to be, truly, what this man here before me demands of me, myself. You had rarely ever been yours, but Din, Din had always belonged only to you, from that first moment. Tucked away in the farthest and smallest recess of your mind, almost like a fracture in the dark, the memory of his strength, his honor, his loyalty, the great conviction of character and goodness every part of him was imbued with, he lived there, in that small pocket you’d managed to keep for yourself.

“You and that smart fucking mouth – you never know when to quit.”

You huff a saccharine laugh, your eyes filling with tears. You’re sure you must look unhinged, fracturing and hysterical all at once. “Smarter than you, that’s for sure.”

Both hands on his hips, he sighs then, long and frustrated, looking away from you with a shake of his head, and it makes you feel like the lowest piece of scum. You squeeze your eyes shut tight, listen to the jilt of his metallic encasings, the things that, second to your own stupidity, would always keep you away from each other, as he steps closer to you again. The ever present air of his concern hovers between the two of you as you press the balls of your hands hard into your eye sockets, willing your tears away. 

“Maker,” you groan. The will to fight leaves you, and your head, your head, it hurts. A piercing hot pain right through the center of your brain. You can hear the muffled sound of his voice saying your name, asking if you’re okay again, and you want to scoff and ask him in return how he could ever think you could ever be anything even close to okay after everything you’d done. But you focus on the blurry notes of him, that sliver of cracked light where he lives in your mind, the familiar sound of your name falling like salt from his mouth, like the phantom pain of an amputated limb, and let the fog clear slowly. 

When you open your eyes again, it’s nothing but clear reality: you, Din, all of your mistakes lying at your feet like two discarded sabers and dead hope. Two years of darkness is too long a time. You’d made such a terrible mistake, allowed such terrible things to be done to yourself. You want to run away from the sight of his anxious hovering, arms outstretched, poised to clutch and grab. You shy away, cowering into the wall, and you hear the sound of angry frustration he coughs out at the sight of the fear you can’t help but feel. 

But it’s your prize after all your sacrifice, can’t he see that? The only thing that remains.

All you have left now is the knowledge of how to be afraid. 

He appears to you, suddenly, as if he’d grown seven feet taller in two years. Brighter than any sun or moon in the galaxy, but also, exactly the same, and also, again, and at the same time, darker, colder, older. So heavily armored, like a wound of beskar looming above you in the night, outlined in pale, flickering silver, ready for war. He’s different, changed, unrecognizable. Something almost frightening, something that almost frightens you, as if he’d left the sun behind, ripped it out of the very sky. Finally, more droid than man, it seems. 

It makes you angry. 

Affronted, spluttering, you spit his own question back at him, “What happened to you?” Looking him up and down with all the contempt and disappointment you can muster.

He scoffs, planting his hands on tapered hips again, learning back on his heel. “What do you mean?”

“Look– Look at you. You were supposed to have greater care. You were supposed to be okay.” And you bear your teeth in the insinuation of a growl or a shriek. Completely nonsensical when he appears, for all intents and purposes, bigger and broader and stronger than he’d ever been before. “What happened to you?”

He takes you in, so still and so silent and so intimidating, and you’re about to cower and flinch once more before he says as simple as heartbreak, “You.” But of course. “You planted a rage inside of me. Do you understand what that is?”

How could you not? And so you tell him, “Yes,” and there are no surprises here. You should’ve been wiser, should’ve known that the two of you would meet like this again eventually. Angry and hurt and unrecognizable. That at the end of everything, all roads lead to Din. You had done something terrible, these were the consequences of your actions. 

“Where have you been?” He asks, but you look away, a quick shake of your head, not that question, any question but that one. He snarls, taking an aggressive step forward, and you press yourself into the wall at your back, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“Please–” and you won’t cry, you’ll kill yourself right here and now infront of him before you let these Maker damned tears fall, but he cannot touch you, “Please, don’t touch me.” If he does, you’ll lose. You know it. 

“Where have you been?” He asks again. “I searched for you. Everywhere I went, I searched for your face in crowds. So many things happened to me.” His voice breaks, “Terrible things, wonderful things, and at every step I wanted to share them with you, and you weren’t there for any of it.” You see the jerk and thrum of his body as he forces himself not to take you up into his grasp. “Where were you?”

In a hole in the ground, in the dark, in my nightmares. To tell him that you’d destroyed everything, that you’d let yourself fall into a trap as bad as the worst thing that’d ever been done to you by your own choice, by way of your own actions, that you’d suffered, oh, how you’d suffered, and that it’d all been such a mistake and that you’re sorry and terrible and small now – to tell him all that would be to lose him in an irreversible way. 

“Nowhere.”

“Fuck you,” he scoffs, turning to spin in a directionless circle, trying to walk his frustration with you off. And you want to fall to your knees and beg him to forgive you for things he knows naught about. My soul has been so fearful, so violent: forgive its brutality. 

A nod of your head and a small yes is all you can give him. The pain in your skull splinters and breaks and spreads like cracks in ice, and you try and swallow your wince and shudder but you hear his own pained groan of recognition. 

His voice gentles: “I’ve thought about you for two years. I’ve searched for you for two years, and this is how you meet me again? Cold and hostile – as if we were strangers, as if all that time together had never passed between us? I missed you,” he says, and you wish for your hole in the ground once again.

You dig your nails into the meat of your palms, break skin. “What were a few months of peace and happiness in the shadow of madness, of history?”

He’s quiet, for a moment, and you know the breaking is here now. “Were you?” He asks in a very small voice, like a child, unsure and fragile. “Happy? Did I make you happy?”

It hurts, the sound of his voice hurts, worse than the fire in your skull, worse than the bright white of torture, worse than being alive. “Yes, Din,” You look right into the darkness where you know his eyes are. Be brave now: “Of course you did.”

“I wasn’t sure. I– sometimes… after… you made me doubt.”

“I thought of you,” you say, and your voice sounds as if it’s going away from you, “When I dreamt, I dreamt only of you. You want to know where I was?” Your head is going to split in two, and there’s fire in your back, your shoulder and your spine and every inch of skin that encases you, as if you’re coming alive in flames suddenly. Awake and aware of all that had been done to you for the very first time. It hurts everywhere. “I was asleep, or I was in a dream.” You look up at the sky again, and there’s red everywhere, and the two of you should have stayed in that warm cave all that time ago, safe and together. Together in water. “I was tangled in red strings or memories, I don’t know. I’m sorry I left you.” The first thing you should have said. 

Your mind spins and spins in a million different directions, ricochets and slingshots back to him, always him, always Din, always, always. Such a terrible thing, you’d found in your captivity, to be held so by someone entirely unattainable. And yet, here he is. The very sun held inside the heart of the man standing before you, and it is so bright and so strong, and as you focus on it, there, in his mind or his soul, stitched into the very fabric that Din is made of, the only person you’ve ever loved in your whole life and also entirely a stranger now, there’s something or someone else– strong in the Force, stronger than you, even, perhaps. You’re confused for a second. Something unrecognizable, young and vulnerable and pure and yet with a certain type of innocent wisdom unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. Your eyes briefly focus one last time to take him in full, and the realization slices through your mind, your heart; shock, betrayal, grief for the thing you could never give him, would never have. 

“You have a son?”

And then nothing, the ground rising up faster than light, a last flash of silver beskar and the snapping of the last threads in your mind as you finally find a pool of dark unconsciousness that doesn’t swim with nightmares for the first time in years.

Chapter X

Netherfeildren's Masterlist

Updates Blog!

[kazinsblog]

Babu NDA Part 1

Yuma’s reaction when the NDA detectives become kids XD. Yumas reactions would be fun to watch. Haha. I’ll slowly post the rest this week XD for now here’s babu NDA and Halaras.

Side note

I’ve been looking through my WIPs recently and noticed…Yumas been through a lot of angst and sick whump recently (😈 :D). There’s more angst and sick whump in store MWHAHAHA. But for now I wanna make Yuma a little bit happier than before XD

[alibonbonn]

So sorry you are sick! Hope it's not covid Not sure if it qualifies as doodle but anything with the Trojan sibs when they were tiny babus?

The twins …they are plagued by visions..

[auburnitzy]

Behold !! My...very not impressive creation-

I lost their edited version so I had to start from scratch ! DX I left out some details so you could do whatever you want with them. I just came with the ref: Juliet 'JuJu'/Qi Guiying/齐桂英 Age: Something younger than Haoran and Mingxia- Height: 4,9 to 5,3 feet Pangender She/He/They (Normally just goes by she-) Personality: Baby of the family :) But they are very capable of flipping the switch between being a closeted introvert…and dramatic extrovert. One minute they are playing pranks with Mingxia and the next, they are just rolling their eyes when following Haoran’s rules. Their emotions are a hit or miss depending on the mood and as long as she is having fun, it won’t be ending in a mess. They just want a fun time. She loves the drama…unless its the kind that gets in HER biz >:( Also independent and doesn't take crap from anybody lest they get beaten up.

Fun Facts:

- Loves ALL kinds of strawberry-flavoured foods ! They’ll go rabid trying to get one ! Strawberries by themselves are…meh to them.

- Their powers are similar to both Nawa and MK’s. Being a perfect mix of them, inheriting half of each of their powers makes a little sense.

-Has a big thing for music. They enjoy Jazz, Rock and a bit of traditional music. And a bit of a singer and dancer- -Mix of Monkey and Bakunawa ! Hence the ears and fins-

-In school, their appearance on the outside does tend to get the wrong kind of attention. Kids will be kids and make fun of others for strange features so…they get bullied. But their siblings always come to help in the end !

-Don’t bite….They’ll bite back.

Voice: Ivy Pepper from Lackadaisy (If you don't know it, go check it out because it is sick !)

Theme Song: The Moon Will Sing - The Crane Wives. (And that wraps it ! My Auburnitzy OC ! I left a lot of details somewhat out so that you could add anything you want ! Because my babu, is your babu UvU I hope you enjoy this if you can Nitzy !)

AAAAAAAA DID YOU READ MY OLD FANFICTION OR SOMETHING???

SHE'S SO ADORABLE!! >o< 🌸💟💗✨️✨️✨️

Thank you for sending her to me AAAAAA- her and mingxia would get along (only sometimes tho!!)

[kyururun]

Kyururin te shitemite - Love Kyun♡Wanted (Lyrics + ENG Translation)

ROMAJI

Are you ready? RABU Kyun ♡ Wanted "Nee nee kimi ni tsugeru! Shuui wa mou houi sareten no!" "nigeru no nante akiramete?" "kimi wo ichiban suki na no wa watashi da mon!!" "Aa~ doko iku no?! sekaichuu ni shimei tehai shiteyaru~~!!"

kawaii ko nara dare demo ii no? (sou! PURINSESU wa hitori de OK!) warui ko wa tejou shinakya ne (INSUTA FOROO wa juuzai!!) Kyou mo Hide & Seek mitsuketa nantsuu IIJII GEEMU (omoi wa omoi joushiki ◎) kimi kentei wa hyakuten watashi shika katan no desu

joshi da toka danshi toka, kankei nai yakimochi motto hitori jime sasete yo (iya!! watashi ni dake yasashiku sun no!!) yappa yappa yaba yaba see no de nerai uchi ♡ (ban♡ ban♡)

shuki chu bakyun!! HAATO meichuu RABU sugite tsumi tsumimi (ban♡ ban♡) doki chou makyuu, wa! gorinjuu soku taiho desu (wanted♡ wanted♡)

doushiyokka Merry sore tomo Killing docchi tomo eien da ne wagamama datte nakimushi datte, zenbu wo aishite ne Are you ready? RABU Kyun ♡ Wanted

sansei!! numaru kei ni shiteyaru ♡ hantai!! "kao wa ii" tte hometenai yo ne?! koi kogare chuu demo (hai~) reiji ni wa nemasu ♡ sensei!! ganbaru mon, ashita kara, ita!!

Aa~ mou High & Sick barechatta wan tsuu EGOSAACHI "teiki haishin chuu BADDO MOODO" shoubu wa mata gyakuten kimi no omoi doori nan desu

koutei mo hitei mo todokanai unmei datte kamisama ga kimeta no (uso! akai ito nakutatte shinjin no) yappa yappa yaba yaba see no de midare uchi (ban♡ ban♡)

shuki tte babu? HAATO meikyuu menbure shite daru KIRUMII (ban♡ ban♡) doki tte bagu, ma! muchuu ichuu soku taiho desu (wanted♡ wanted♡)

koi tte sa Beauty sore tomo Dirty docchi demo bigaku da ne konna hiroi sekai sagasechau kurai zenbu wo ashiteru Are you ready? RABU Kyun ♡ Wanted

ichizu wa seigi desho YES ka ne YES kotaete nari hibiku SAIREN tokimeki bousou chuu!

shuki chu bakyun!! HAATO meichuu RABU sugite tsumi tsumimi (ban♡ ban♡) doki chou makyuu, wa! gorinjuu soku taiho desu (wanted♡ wanted♡)

doushiyokka Merry sore tomo Killing docchi tomo eien da ne wagamama datte nakimushi datte, zenbu wo aishite ne Are you ready? RABU Kyun ♡ Wanted

♡♡♡

EN TL

Are you ready? Love Kyun ♡ Wanted

Hey, hey, I'm telling you, you're surrounded. Can't you just give up on running? After all, I'm the one who loves you the most! Aah~! Where are you going? I'll make you wanted all over the world!

Anyone's fine as long as they're a cute girl? (Right, only one princess is OK!) Bad girls need to be handcuffed, right (Instagram following is a huge crime!)

It's hide & seek again today, I found you ♡ What an easy game "Feelings are a heavy common sense" ◎ You get 100 test points There's no one better than me!

Boys or girls it doesn't matter, I get jealous either way Let me keep you to myself more (No way! Only be nice to me!) After all, afer all, it's bad bad 1, 2 - I'm aiming for you (Bang♡ Bang♡ )

I wuv you, mwah, shoot~! A direct hit to the heart I love you so much my crimes are at the limit (Bang♡ Bang♡ ) Heart thumps, a super miracle ball. Wah, I'm on my deathbed I'm going to arrest you immediately! (Wanted♡ Wanted♡)

What should I do, merry or killing? Both will last for eternity right? Love all of me even if I'm selfish or a crybaby Are you ready? Love Kyun ♡ Wanted

In favour of! Sentencing you to being obsessed with me Objection! It's not a compliment saying "you're pretty", is it?! Even if I'm deeply yearning for you (Okay~) I'll be in bed by midnight I declare! I'll try hard as of tomorrow (ugh)

Ahh, I'm high & sick. I've been found out 1, 2 and search up my name online "Bad mode during the scheduled live broadcast", the match is back to square one It's exactly as your feelings say

A destiny that neither affirmation nor denail can reach After all, it's all decided by God (No way! I believe in the red string even if it's not there) After all, afer all, it's bad bad 1, 2 - I'm gonna shoot like crazy (Bang♡ Bang♡ )

I wuv you, am I being childish? My heart is a maze I'm losing my mind, how cringe, kill me (Bang♡ Bang♡ ) My heart thumping is a bug, well! I'm totally obsessed I'm going to arrest you immediately! (Wanted♡ Wanted♡)

Love is, y'know, beauty or dirty. Both are just aesthetics, right I love everything about you so much I'd go to the ends of the world to find you Are you ready? Love Kyun ♡ Wanted

Being earnestly devoted is justice, right? Yes, right? Say yes A resouding siren, I'm being reckless with heart-pounding emotion!

I wuv you, mwah, shoot~! A direct hit to the heart I love you so much my crimes are at the limit (Bang♡ Bang♡ ) Heart thumps, a super miracle ball. Wah, I'm on my deathbed I'm going to arrest you immediately! (Wanted♡ Wanted♡)

What should I do, merry or killing? Both will last for eternity right? Love all of me even if I'm selfish or a crybaby Are you ready? Love Kyun ♡ Wanted

[gorotic]

who’s ur scrunkly babu silly little hubba stray dog boy ( read: fav )

i like the way you talk<3 making me choose between all the sillies i have in my basement. chuuya was love at first sight my babe my man BUT ALSO nikolai im biting my hand over him all the time they make me SICK. cant pick between the two they make me so

[thecrusadercomrade]

What do you think of Bad Batch and Mandalorian. The group will probably turn on Cid since even Omega is sick of her crap. Mandalorain, Clone Wars and Andor in my option are some of best star wars media we got in recent years. Sad people slept on Andor because it was amazing.

We finally got a follow-up to the Zillo Beast plotline! It's been over a decade, but we got it XD. It feels so amazing that we're actually going to get a resolution to all of that. I get the feeling the Zillo Beast will play a role in another episode, maybe even the end of the season, since there has to be a reason why the Empire never developed blaster-proof armor.

You know you've messed up when even Omega is done with you. Cid told them not to come back if they didn't recover anything valuable, so maybe they'll end up doing just that. Though with the Empire now after Omega, I get the feeling Cid might end up betraying the group by giving away information.

Aside from that, I really enjoyed the horror vibes of the episode! It's not something you see super often with Star Wars, but they pulled it off really well! Also cool to see them brining back Nala Se. It'll be interesting to see Omega's reaction to her if they meet up, since I don't think it was ever clearly explained just what kind of relationship they had. And Hemlock seems like a really good villain. The kind of badass who doesn't need to raise his voice for people to take him seriously.

As for The Mandalorian, it feels so good to have it back! The practical effects were absolutely on point as always, especially for things like IG-11 and the Anzellans. Those are Babu Frik's species, right? I haven't seen the sequel trilogy, so this was my first expose to that species, and I already love them so much XD.

A friend of mine mentioned to me last night how a theme of the episode was change: The Armorer and Bo-Katan are stuck in the past, while Greef Karga and Nevarro have embraced change for the better. I hope that Din will be able to learn from the latter's example, and forge a new path for himself and his people.

Really looking forward to seeing where this season takes us!

[falseapostle]

✥ @empyreous asked: ✥ ✥ tired is one priestess , thin hair latched into a thick bundle only for estelle to be plucking along the end of the braid. exhaustion is a bit obvious upon her features , around her eyes , as lack of sleep seemed to be clinging to her. ❛ Haruto. ❜ a light yawn is given thereafter name , form leaning against seated other with crystal hues shut. ❛ must we work today? can we not take another day of rest? ❜

(gives you the babu who misses her haruto v much) ✥

♝~✺~♝

Haruto easily shifted under the weight of the demon to allow her better comfort against him, to steady her as he finished brewing the coffee, "Well, I most certainly do. You don't have to if you're not feeling well. That being said, if you're just a little sleepy and lacking motivation..."

And with a smile he held up a cup, hot and blooming with it's unique aroma, an offering to help her get going. He had a ritual of sorts of drinking a cup every morning before he started his work, and shortly after she had started staying with him he'd begun to make two cups instead. He never expected Estelle to just take it. After all, eating in general was never quite her favorite activity and most things made her feel sick. But he'd been trying to coax her into it a little bit every day, trying to find things that sat particularly well with her pallet so that she could take better care of herself. He wouldn't mind so much if her body didn't legitimately suffer when it lacked sustenance.

Of course, there was always the other method... But there was a bit of trauma surrounding that as well, and he just wanted to make sure she got what she needed with as little pain or trauma as possible, and that was difficult to work through. Would have been for anyone.

And so, while he offered the cup of coffee every day, he never expected her to take it. It was fine if she didn't.

"We don't have much to do today anyway. It's not a sermon day so we'll just be cleaning and getting paperwork done. You could just lay around here all day if you really wanted to."

[kyukicho]

@mcwscollective asked: Technology was an interesting thing. Before, they’d relied on instincts and subtle hints from the universe to get their messages across. Now? All he had to do was use one of those phone things to send his message directly to the palm of the human he needed to communicate with. So when Mikey needed to keep his ass off the road for a little while to avoid an accident, Bachira wasted no time using a random cell phone to send a text — a number he’d never seen before popping up on the screen moments later with a few simple words beneath it in an effort to keep him from leaving: get back into bed, you need your rest.

Invincible. He was the 'Invincible' Mikey. He didn't get sick and he certainly didn't get to the point he had to be laid up in bed. Even if the constant cough and red cheeks spoke otherwise. He wasn't about to let that stop him. Wasn't going to miss riding in this nice weather for a stupid cold that he obviously didn't have!

Babu parked right outside, he was just pulling his jacket on when the phone in his pocket chimed a message. Kenchin? No... that wasn't his tone. Fishing the phone out, Mikey read the strange message. Typing back. 'Who is this? Don't tell me what to do.'

[loserchildhotpants]

‼️ emergency commissions open ‼️

My cat Merry is back in the hospital. The last month has been sort of Hellish w my dog Milo passing, then Merry getting horribly sick not 2 days later, going in and out of the hospital, and I’ve really been gouged. I was just getting my footing back, but he’s back in medical boarding, and I’m working, but I really need some extra bits of income to help w this

Look at his precious face 🥺

my babu 🥺 his brother, Pippin, is at home w me, also anxious for his return. It may be a hot minute, though — Merry needs a pretty severe surgery (P.U surgery for those wondering), and he’s going to be boarded at the hospital for some time, i think (my apartment is way, way too small to be good for his aftercare, so I’m going to have to board him).

Here are some commission pieces I’ve done most recently:

DM me here or on Twitter (@loserchldhtpnts) for inquiries, payments will be made on Venmo or at PayPal.me/loserchildhotpants

Please, please reblog!

[fangirlshrewt97]

Daya: How am I supposed to know if Chitti feels the same way? Are you sure he even likes men? I'm a total smoke show and he barely even looks at me!

Kumar Babu: From the front maybe!

Daya: What the hell does that mean?

Kumar Babu: It means everyday I am subjected to seeing my brother constantly zero-ed in on your ass!

Daya:

Kumar Babu: And I, for one, am sick of it. So please, for the love of God, just ask him out!

[savage-rhi]

 “my kiss?” “right, sorry.”

IM BACK AGAIN WITH MY BOYS I NEED MORE FUEL

this just screams damon + adam <33

@nemodoren HERE YA GO BABU

Damon furrowed his brows while he stared into his cup of coffee. He didn't have the heart to look Adam in the eye, much less carry a conversation this early. Every so often he'd glance between the steam of the coffee and see Adam reading from his phone. No doubt it was that ridiculous gossip column he so loved. Kiss & Tell Me Not, was it? Damon thought to himself while his thumbs brushed over the sides of the brown cup.

Damon began to recall previous times he and Adam were quite talkative after having a roll in the sack. The calm this time around was peculiar, and he wasn't sure if he quite liked it or not. The peace of it all was something Damon hadn't experienced in many years. Not since his previous relationship, and even then moments like this were a commodity.

He tried not to think about her, not wanting to sour the morning. Especially with how beautiful the sun looked coming above the skyscrapers. Damon blinked a few times while looking out the window, a soft sigh left him that he hadn't noticed. He suddenly raised a brow when Adam bolted up from his chair and began to run about like a mad man collecting his clothes and other belongings.

"Did you put cocaine in your espresso?" Damon quipped.

"Har, har, you wish," Adam said, his breath winded while he scrambled to get his overshirt on. "I just realized I'm running late."

"I thought you didn't have work today?"

"I forgot I switched shifts with Deltrese."

Damon snorted in disbelief. "If I recall, you and I quote, 'hate the stupid bitch'."

"I do, I do, I'm not denying that." Adam laughed then started messing with his hair to make it presentable.

Not that his impromptu grooming would do much to make an improvement, Damon noted to himself amusingly.

"For as crappy of a person as she is, her kid is sick. I may have a soft spot."

"Could've fooled me." Damon said with a smirk. He then took a drink of his coffee, savoring the earthy taste while trying not to think about problematic co-workers. That's the last thing he needed to be dwelling on.

"I'll be back around noon! Make yourself at home!"

Adam nearly bolted out of the kitchen when he was ready, only stopped when Damon did a double take and yelled.

"My kiss?"

Adam stopped in his tracks and grinned. "Right, sorry!"

Damon closed his eyes and smiled wide when he felt Adam's lips upon the scruff of his cheek. It wasn't the most passionate of kisses, nor would Damon be so bold as to put it on his top ten, but there was a tenderness to it that had his smile linger long after Adam had left.

He wondered how long this would last. Nothing ever was this good for long.

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