#i dont think they were taking child well being into that much consideration

[italiantea]

mindblown to learn that it's apparently common for japanese schools to ban kids from buying snacks between meals. bro when i was a kid $5 ntd mystery ice pops from the corner store were my childhood. if we got food poisoning that was on us lmao we knew what we were getting into

[fudanshidoublevision]

Double Vision as a father.

Ray better kill him before Double puts his bloody claws on MC and even thinks of forming a family with them. /j

Dude, no, imagine being his CHILD, i feel sorry for anyone who has Double as some type of...paternal figure, LMFAO.

Experiencing parenthood isn't on my “to-do list”. Plus having a child, on this ECONOMY? I'm good.

Parenting is a humbling experience, my parents had taught me AND told me that. Well, that is certainly my fault because I was the devil reincarnated when I was a kid— but they still call me their little devil so not much has changed I guess. ( ͡°з ͡°)

But in this scenario...even if the circumstances aren't ideal, I believe that anyone can do their best if they really want to, it's not easy. It isn't the children's fault that their parents are so troubled. (meaning, if their progenitor is Double Vision in this case, lol)

I've discussed this with my best friend once, a long time ago and they said something about how Double will view his child as a possesion and extension of himself (and yours too, because he would only care about that kid just enough 'cause you are attached to them), i kind of agree with him. But, I mean? If Double Vision has kids with MC, wouldn't that mean he is fond with the idea of having kids? I haven't mentioned nothing about him being capable of “baby trapping” you because everyone else is disposable to him but you aren't. For all he cares, he only needs to held you tight by your throat to remember that he only needs you, he doesn't want or need someone else. In this scenario, your child was planned and wanted.

Even if you loved your child, he will be uncapable of loving them back the same way you love them but he wouldn't be uncaring, dude is deranged and a major bad influence. Mostly because of the way he is and taking in consideration the fact that his parents were emotionally and psychically absent when he needed them around, it's not an excuse considering how in this similar scenario Ray didn't had NO good-present parental figures on his whole life but wants to try his best, it just kind of explains why he acts and why would he act like that. I'm not saying that Ray would be perfect at parenting a child just a bit better than Double for sure, not gonna lie Double gives me “crazy-unstable uncle” vibes.

He is not right in the head, neither i am but hey, this is not a competition for who's more deranged, so...someone has to be the relatively-stable and emotionally available parental figure. (Meaning, YOU.)

Just sane enough to not make a mini Double 2.0. Who can be worse.

He would care...and “love” (the way he “loves you” is pretty different) his own child his very particular way. Yeah, he would be cruel and a piece of shit to you but just a tiny mean and highly authoritarian towards his child.

me if our kid ever asks me why their father fucking SUCKS at giving advice and why is it always has to end up with someone getting hurt:

"Mini-me, if you ever need adivice, you can open up to me and say whatever is bothering that little head of yours. Keeping some ugly thoughts to yourself isn't good, whatever it is, I'll never judge you and you'll never scare me off....What about your dad...? Eh, he...just isn't the best giving out advice. Some people aren't good with their words...and tend to say things that are bad, sometimes it's better to do...whatever you think is right instead of following what others may "advice” you but you can always double-check with me to know if you are doing the right thing.

Why, you ask? WELL... what about if we just...OH, what if we go out for a bit? Would you like that? I'll buy you whatever you want. ANYTHING! Just...dont tell your dad, okay..."

It's sad but it's not easy to explain to children why their mom/dad/parent acts or behaves “weird” or is incapable of doing things their other parent can do.

Oh well, i believe Double's kid wouldn't question what their dad tells them to do or say because...that's their father, they don't know any better than what their parents tell them.

Double's parental skills aren't the best; he is driven by his own emotions and he is the definition of what impulsivity means. He doesn't care much about consequences and who he might hurt to achieve what he wants and what he NEEDS. (You, again, for example. He obliterated the previous Night Crew members because of your “disappearance”. He may or may not broken someone's bones and mayyybe, just maybe! I think... he threatened some people here and there to get your location.)

I thought that maybe he would use your own child as a weapon to tame you so you'll do whatever he says. Emotional manipulation and conditioning...not even that poor kid is safe from that, Double is VERY MUCH controlling and overprotective. No matter how you behave, he stills wants you but of course, he loves a defiant behavior but he can't deny that he enjoys it when you "make things easier".

After all, parents will do anything for their children, right? Oh well, I'll be guessing that you'll do that for the sake of your child. Sorry if I'm wrong.

It doesn't really matter how that child appeared or how they were conceived and brought to you two to form a family. Those little details don't matter, you'll try your best, right? No matter what. You don't have much of an option if you are with Double, I guess. ಠಿ_ಠ

But I have the feeling that this freak will be overjoyed if the kid, shares your and his blood and genes. Just another thing to reaffirm his ownership over you. I don't think he will be capable of harming his own child, psychically, I mean. Maybe he WILL threaten you and say he'll hurt your kid when you “act feisty” so you'll give up.

Double Vision wouldn't be jealous at all of his child if they take all the attention from his most beloved possession off him because they aren't simply a bit of a threat to him and that kid is just trying to bond with you, i don't think Double would even bother to get in between of the parent of his kid and his child. Unless it is to annoy you or just be insufferable, as usual.

I like the idea that he underestimates what his child is capable of doing, lol.

For my own mental peace, i didn't added details like “what if your child had abilities?”. Because I have the feeling Double will be up to NO good with that little piece of information.

But let's just sit and think about it, either way, if your child is an ability holder or not, doesn't really matter if Daddy Double is around. Anything is possible and who is he to deny his child's wish to follow his daddy's step? Villainy, I mean, lol.

He would be overjoyed and proud his child wants to be a villain, like his parents. Well, he still is a villain and MC is not longer in the business because of Double, LMAO.

If you'd like to enter a more dangerous territory well, what if his kid wanted to become a hero? Not even an option, haha.

It's not like they have one, being a villain or just a regular citizen, no child of Double is going to become a hero on his guard. He will be very open about his distaste on the wish of his child wanting to be a hero, he might be ticked off by that.

Maybe he is usually cold-headed when he interacts with his own child, I think it's enough with him having you in edge constantly, at least he wouldn't behave or treat them the same way he treats you. Even though, there are times that his patience runs thin (when annoyed or angry, not entirely directed towards his child) and could say some concerning things that his child may take to heart.

Parents knows best, I've heard from a certain someone say before.

Now, what if that child grows? Woah, they are going through the terrifying, horrifying, traumatizing, horrible phase of adolescence! Amazing, worst years of my life! ᕕ( ՞ ᗜ ՞ )ᕗ

They are slowing growing into becoming an adult, they might realize how different everything looks when you are a bit...mature, you become more aware of what's going on around you. They will notice about how some behaviors from their parents aren't normal and not what they seemed, I'm specifically talking about Double Vision but you get it.

Maybe they will develop a rocky relationship with you but I believe that no matter what they will still love you and care for you, maybe you'll become their favorite and appreciate more the way you cared for them, who knows. Maybe they will hate you because you didn't tried enough and had to choose Double Vision as their shitty dad (I think it's for the best if they didn't know the reality of your situation 😁), they will grew and distant but who knows...?

About Double, I have the feeling that for their own sake they'll ignore his dad's existence as much as they can, Double is aware of that and doesn't care that much but I won't deny that he might be annoyed by that and oh NO! They ended up being just like you and Double is going to pick on you for that and even say that is your fault why they hate him so much.

Maybe it's for the better if your kid ended up being more like you rather than Double.

Double is an only child so i believe that he'll only want one single kid but I don't think he would be opposed of having another one but MAYBE, just maybe, no!

But there's something I believe that everyone can agree on and that's on the fact that Double looks so fucking HOT with grey hair.

And oh my FUCKING God, his gloves? You can see his tattooed sleeves and his neck? I feel like a Victorian man seeing a woman's ankles for the first time. I want to break his senile back.

Conclusion, could you have kids with Double? Absolutely, will he be a good dad? Questionable but most likely, not. I think he might be like his parents, he exists but he isn't a reliable person for his kids, it's kind of difficult to come a conclusion because he is so complex to me, my opinion on him is always ever-changing.

OH YEAH, you and your child might be the only ones besides some of your family members who probably meet him wayyyyyy before, a long time ago, that know his real name. It isn't that relevant but one of the most important things a kid has to know it's their parents name and last name, right? Not that Double's real name is going to be used as much as you might think.

I wrote this solely because I had a dream where Double Vision was my uncle and he lived on my grandparents backyard??? Sick and I just wanted to post this because I spent three days of my life writing this and then chickened out.

This post in particular wasn't proofreaded (at all) by my friends that usually encourage to post my dusty drafts.

I hope you liked it, I might add some things to this post in the future...

Anyways, Haley bae is next. Maybe even Binary Star because I think having kids with him sounds scary, if you are aware of WHY ARE YOU having kids with him on the first place (canonically speaking).

How would Double actually act if he ever had a kid: /j

I had this video on repeat playing in my head while writing this.

[hella1975]

hella if I may ask how do U feel abt the canon touya we were given vs the previous fandom perception of him🎤? apologies if youve alrdy said but I just watched dabis dance n im GNAWING on the bars of my cage over it

hiiiiiiiiii max <333 hmmm im not entirely sure what ur asking bc i am still very new to mha (sat and thought about this for a second, i caught up to mha a year ago. a YEAR. I HAVE BEEN HERE A YEAR ARE YOU KIDDING. LET ME UP) and i was never in the fandom pre-dabidance/touya reveal so i actually dont really know a lot about past fanon perceptions. i will say for current fanon perceptions i actually dont HATE how touya gets perceived. maybe i am just that good at curating my fandom spaces but from what ive seen people generally characterise him pretty well. his fanon perception is very mardy/broody with big spikes of sudden, intense emotion and he's also a massive bitch with a penchant for dramatics, and while those things get twisted sometimes/over-exaggerated they're still all canonical traits. like he has an inherent Just Some Guyness to him.

i think broadly speaking there's a considerable part of the fandom that are so blindly pro-endeavour that they insist on dying on the 'touya was always an insane irrideemable monster and endeavour did nothing wrong!' hill which is. blood boilingly ridiculous so in THAT regard the fanon characterisation of him somehow just being an inherently evil child (two words that cannot exist together) who has gone on to be a mindless, sadistic adult is a perception that GRATESSSS on my nerves. or even if people don't take the evil child route and still insist touya is sadistic/excessively cruel/senselessly violent. that bugs me bc we get no proof of that. in fact dabi as a character is a shockingly blank slate in the grand scheme of things. we get told that he killed a lot of people, burning them alive in cold blood and that they were innocent, but we dont actually know anything about the situation. for all the time he's on screen, he's quick-tempered and unable to walk away from a fight even if it's illogical, but not sadistic unless it specifically comes to his vendetta. unless something sets him off he is very uninterested in anything else (the snatch comment HOURS later always makes me laugh HES SUCH A CUNT).

if ur asking SPECIFICALLY about dabidance and how it was handled (bc it's a very Active scene and that's hard to convey through manga, so people had very different expectations for it from what i've heard) then i LOVED how it was done. in that regard i think there's very much a fanon dabi that is Very Cool And Sexy so people find it hard to reconcile that with the fact that the touya reveal was so borderline silly, because they only ever want him to be suave and attractive. but when facing off against his abuser for the first time in a decade and finally, finally crawling from the shadows after living through hell and LITERALLY stapling himself back together again, touya is manic. i fucking adore that, especially from a character with such a temper bc high-charged scenes like that usually only ever go in two directions: anger or tears. we didn't get that here. yes, he's clearly angry, but it's done in a manic way. it would be so easy with a character like dabi to have him screaming and yelling his head off in a fit of rage, but we get this instead. he's so clearly slipping and it's both uncomfortable and cathartic to watch. he can't even contain it. he DANCES. it's almost laughable but in a seriously disturbing way, and i think anyone who didn't like that about the touya reveal is seriously missing out.

[cr-pplepunx]

i, a 19 year old disabled trans man at 11 weeks of pregnancy, am scheduled for a surgical abortion tomorrow at 2pm.

i suppose i just wanted to speak on my experience.

i am scared

i am sad

i am grateful

and i am sure

**massive trigger warnings for mentions of addiction, substance abuse, the pro-life movement, and domestic abuse.**

personally, this feels somewhat as a loss. i am of the belief that a baby is always a blessing (meant non-religously, somewhat spiritually, but up to interpretation). and if i had the resources to bless this child back as a parent, i would with immense joy. i have never intended to have a child; however several of my siblings, as well as myself, were unplanned and i have seen the miracle of a child firsthand. to have the chance to welcome one into the world would be a beautiful and well-worth experience to me.

however, i am an addict. before and after discovering my pregnancy, i have smoked weed, used MDMA, and drank alcohol. i have left myself dehydrated, malnourished, and extremely stressed out due to a current abusive relationship. not to mention, i live with currently unmanaged chronic and mental illnesses and can barely take care of myself. i do not have a job, and have an extremely hard time getting hired due to my circumstances. i am off to residential rehab soon. i am not in a place to raise a child, and it would be entirely unfair to both them and to myself at this point in my life. i am making the best educated and kindest decision i possibly can for both myself and this life inside of me.

i am extremely sure of my decision. but this oppourtunity for love and life being lost does mean something to me. and i think it is strange and unfair the way that so much pro-abortion activism is done so aggressively and with no compassion or consideration to the people who's abortions bring on sad and complicated feelings. painting it as a procedure with absolutely no possibility of emotional/physical short or longterm effects. refering to the fetus as a "parasite" even, and with no consideration to it as a possibility for human life. i dont mean this in any pro-life sort of way, i firmly believe it is a personal choice whether or not you go through with the pregnancy. i just think it is unfair to pregnant people to paint this wonderful biological phenomenom as a scary harmful inhuman thing. even some of the support ive recieved from those close to me has referened this idea of a "parasitic" baby i need to "kill". i dont know if its just my pregnancy horomones, or perhaps my sense of humanity, but that verbage and imagery was just sickening to hear.

i have recieved an incredible amount of support, however, that many do not recieve. i am extremely grateful for both the family and friends who are supportive of my right to abortion, and to have been born and raised in a state with access to this right (before 15 weeks at least). my stepmother has had an abortion, shared her experience and support, and she is paying for mine. my father drove me to my initial consultation (as my state's law requires a ridiculously lengthy consultation 24 hours prior to the actual procedure), and even yelled at the protestors outside of the clinic. my partner, despite our relationship's hostility, is aware of this procedure and fully supportive. i am aware of my luck and privilege, and my heart truly does go out to anyone going through this on their own or with less support. as well as anyone living without access to this right.

the process of abortion is very trans-unfriendly in my experience, and ive opted to act as female and accept being misgendered. of course the pregnancy and this process has been dysphoria inducing, but sometimes it's just easier to do certain things like this. my trans homies know what i mean.

it is also very unfriendly overall, as my state's process attempts to coerce or scare you into changing your mind many times before the procedure takes place. not to mention the protestors standing at the sidewalk calling you a murderer and lecturing you about your sins. however, the clinic i went to had volunteers who very kindly escorted me from the car to the door and attempted to shield me from any harrassment. the staff inside was very kind and respectful, as were the patients going through this alongside me. it seemed everyone was attempting to counteract the heavy nature of the procedure and overall unfriendly and anti-feminist process. seeing the humanity and compassion from the people around me has been a pleasant silver-lining.

dont let anyone fool you, abortion is a pretty common thing. i couldnt find an open appointment at any clinic near me. my father drove me an hour and a half to a 5:30 appointment in a clinic (that exclusively did abortion), that was packed full of people in need of abortion services.

this experience has taught me things about myself, and the people around me, and the world. i do not regret my choice and dont think that will change. but even if it does that will be my own journey, which should never take away from anyone's basic human rights. it is appauling, disgusting, and terrifying to me that access to abortions is so limited. it is even at high risk in my state of becoming more limited, or even criminalized. i will always advocate and vote to the best of my ability for everyone's access to abortion. and i hope anyone reading this intends to do the same.

thank you, if you did read this.

[roppiepop]

reverse robins au? your choice if it’s jaytim

Aaaaaa thank u for coming in and asking abt it!!!! Reverse robin aus are one of my fave fandom specific concepts!!

Okay, so basic ground here, but my main reference points for divergence are the 4 male robins, just for linerization sake, and just because I’m most familiar with Tim he’ll prolly be the one that gets the most expansion, but i hope i can do this the way i prefer it to, which is w the most consideration i can towards canon changes affected while also letting each of them mostly keep their original arcs!!!!

- To start off i think it could be interesting to have Bruce work/train duke at the start, and the possibilities of how that would affect Bruce’s attitude towards metas in Gotham, and maybe give a little flavor to how it feels being a mentor to a kid that’s still mostly independent from him with his own family. How well this will actually be handled i still dont know.

- having Damian be the first kid he actually has to try and kind of parent right in the early bat years also come with a few considerations, i think. On one hand Bruce is definitely softer, maybe a bit more tempered having mentored before, and damian may be fresh off the league but since there’s no previous robins for him to need to fight his ‘birthright’ for, maybe there isn’t a need for any drastic measures. (I mean he’s definitely gonna fight duke on principle but i want them to gain the friendship they do in canon and since duke isn’t like, Bruce’s direct partner i think that can track.)

But then again they’re still them, and damian still has a lot of hangups on worth and legacies and is in the worst stages of blustered arrogance while bruce still doesn’t know how to communicate his feelings in effective ways and happens to have an eldest child that is equally as emotionally repressed so????? Maybe its still a really rocky road.

(I’d like for Damian to keep some of his friends here, mainly Colin and Maya to start with, maybe. I honestly dont know how likely it is for him to set up a teen hero group, but i think that’ll end up happening once he sheds his robin-equivalent mantle.

We’ll let him have his nomadic self-discovery journey i guess :/// something ala williamson’s robin maybe, but like, with his actual friends xjsbdhssbdbd we can even keep Bruce and Talia’s playing tug of war w him towards their respective ideals as a catalyst, and maybe its a bit cleaner without all the baggage of morrison’s interpretation of her.

Let’s put him at idk, 17/18 at this point.)

- One thing that i think definitely changes with having Damian in the first iteration of the dynamic duo is how the mythos is perceived. The kid is capable and ruthless and for awhile at the start, mostly cared more for animals than whoever they were saving. Definitely made rogues think twice to leverage him over batman, but probably mostly didn’t endear him much towards the ppl they encounter, though I’d like to believe that changed as he did. Though the extent of that change i need to think on lmao.

For Steph I think I’ll have her start a little before Tim’s robin-equivalent, staying as spoiler, right after Damian leaves so it goes a bit before anyone notices.

Tim’s start here might be a bit tricky to speak on logistics, he starts as a nightwing character and i mostly want to keep in spirit with that, so Damian’s got to be the fixation here. There’s not really a signature flip that could reliably be imprinted in Tim’s memory but maybe it can be simpler. Like idk a kind act at a gala during Damian’s early years that made tim take notice of him, of a verbal/physical tell that one day robin-equivalent gets caught doing, idk- but now we’re officially in Tim’s stalker era.

A recap on where the rest of the vigilantes are, i think duke is rlly nice w the outsiders i kinda want him there lol Damian’s just abt to start his shounen battle arc and steph is slowlinh appearing on Bruce’s radar but as like, a minor villain.

Something something Tim tries to find Damian, can’t seem to manage to, ends up going to the manor to ask, gets halted by alfred, somehow ends up spilling everything he knows to bruce, ????? Profit -> he gets the mantle.

(A bit clunky, a but out of nowhere, sure, but considering I’m p sure that bruce called jason ‘robin’ the moment he decided to bring him home u can gleam that the man misses having a sidekick :////)

Steph’s story is intertwined with Tim’s for better or worse, and while i like her better when she’s striking out on her own i think tim trying to prove himself before official training by like, capturing her would be a serviceable segue into Bruce training them both. Or try to at least. Steph resorts to her own resources, Tim’s parents get poisoned in Haiti.

And now with Tim and Bruce- a rocky start on the vigilante side bcs well, he may have played the mentor role before but Duke’s a meta, Damian was a ready-made assassin, and Steph, although neither, was still noticeably more athletic than Tim is, its not a big deal, but his initial benchmark was already kind of screwed (would love for tim to still end up getting unplanned training from shiva, somehow.)

But bcs of circumstances that are oh so v different than the one in canon bruce has the patience to teach him firm but kindly 👍 and since Jack is still in a coma (or maybe just kill him off fr ://) they can form a proper healthy-ish bond.

Tim’s tenure in canon is prolific but also threads through the groundwork that Dick’s run paved, and i honestly dont know how well that would’ve faired without him vouching for Tim, but it could be interesting to explore how the dynamic duo’s perception changes with a robin-equivalent that places heavy emphasis on cooperation and is definitely more approachable than the last one. I would v much like to keep that aspect of tim that knows everyone lmao

Also young justice running around without the teen titans as a precedent sounds like a hilarious concept.

We’ll say Damian finds out when Jon brings up that his little bro Kon is in a team w the new-bat partner?? I didn’t know u had a new one?? So ofc Damian storms Gotham demanding an explanation.

And see, while i definitely believe that Dami would’ve grown as a character the lack of a Dick Grayson influence makes me think that maybe he still wouldn’t be above attacking a kid in righteous anger :///// and like, he’s pissed at Bruce of course, that name wasn’t his to give, but maybe it’s all the more worse just bcs of how,,, Tim Tim is. Took his name and changed it’s association, came into his house and became his father’s partner lowkey son in aspects that never came easy to him, and has the audacity to greet him with a smile????

Oh yeah Damian definitely hates Tim. Needlessly cruel abt the one definite edge he has over the kid. And like, poor tim :/// never meet ur heroes in any timeline i g.

But anyway!! Dami might move to Bludhaven, might be somewhere else or other, definitely not anywhere near Tim if he can help it. He should be there for all those big events though, although I’m not sure which ones to keep in. Maybe Tim and Steph can coordinate for No Man’s Land. Then enter Cass, who’s also gonna be in contact mostly w those two.

This is getting soooooo long but like, then Tim dies, because he has to. We’ll pull it to be a Joker Jr. situation and give everyone that good good character development. And then there’s Jason.

- The logistics for Jason becoming robin-equivalent is also real tricky, there’s definitely the factor of making bruce laugh via attempted robbery, but i think the actual nudging can be helped along by Steph, as like, a fellow crime alley kid, idk.

But well, Jason’s time in the mantle- unfortunately he yet again can’t escape the giant shoes of his predecessor, but al least now he has a full support system in the others. And so does Bruce, this time around. It’d be nice to keep that happy status quo for long.

Enter- ‘Tim wasn’t actually dead but take a guess on who wanted it to look like that so he can take him away.’ Anyways, you know the drill. Ra’s would definitely leverage his remolding of Tim against Bruce, but he wouldn’t send him back, probably. Tim’s at a low enough point to likely agree.

Maybe Tim also didn’t come out the pit right though, maybe his brains still fractured. He doesn’t come out the way ra’s wanted and although he kept trying, one day he could’ve decided to just throw tim back to gotham like a defective toy.

Should we give Tim a villain arc? It could be done, but it’ll always be rooted in duty and the belief of serving the greater good. If he does take it up it wouldn’t involve getting in trouble with the bats, or telling them hes back- unless of course, that serves a goal, but even if tim is jealous and resentful of jason getting things like damians approval and official adoption status his self-worth issues are more,,, the internalizing kind. The ‘batman needs a robin’ ethos stays true and nothing would be gained from hurting him.

A vague idea for Tim’s comeback schtick could be operating in plain sight as Drake Industry heir. Since there’s a vacuum of any oracle position he could also dabble around in that. Maybe as loose as his morals would be its still in the service of keeping batman and robin the symbols they are idk!!!!!

- All said and done we can have Dick as proper robin, coming into the house heartbroken and angry and looking for justice and like, early resonance with Damian and idk sometime after we do Batman RIP.

(But before that we get Jason’s sheila arc maybe, he’ll survive. We could potentially pull a Tim and have his friends die on him back to back to back but idk!!!! This might be getting too bloated!!!!)

On the romance side ty for letting me choose my ideal reverse robin au is probably a damitim LOL its the genuine hatred turned remorse,,,, the obsessive affection turned cold indifference,,,, the care of it all,,,,,

V easy to turn it into a jaytim too though, the lack of murder attempts probably also make it smoother snsnsnsbdbdbd good luck trying to convince baby jay that he’s in that league though lol (the annoying little brother to lovers that could be employed here is rlly cute tho,,,, regardless of anything id def want there to be crushing)

OOF OKAY THIS WAS REALLY LONG!!!!! IM SORRY!!!! I’ve always wanted to tackle this eventually but I haven’t finished my reading lists enough to confidently make timeline decisions djsnsnsns i hope this still read clearly, tysm again for coming in!!!

[kasaneteto]

roommate posting again

so i had the Big Talk with him about how him not doing chores and not paying me back isnt okay blah blah blah, he was receptive to it and owned up to his shortcomings, all around went pretty well. he’s set a reminder thing on his phone to alert him to when its time to do chores and he does them. all should be well……but man. even with him doing the chores its just…. like how do i tell someone that when you sweep you have to move things and sweep underneath them yknow. idk if i can do this. i shouldnt have to teach a grown ass man how to clean. but thats exactly what i have to do.

its like. its the little things you know? i have these two friends who ive been in talks with about replacing him when the lease renewal comes up in august. and in this amount of time (couple months) ive noticed so many small things about them that are like. soooo thoughtful and considerate and RESPONSIBLE compared to my current roommate. take for example when we all three went out to smoke on the patio. nahale brought out the stool for thomas to sit on, and without me having to say anything brought it back in and put it where it goes. erik would sometimes follow finn & i out while we smoke to keep talking to us and bring the stool for himself to sit on… then leave it out there when he followed us back inside. or when erik watches after the cats while im away vs when tom&nahale watch them. when erik watches them i come home and the litterboxes havent been emptied for three days and they are clearly starved for attention. but when i had T&N do it the litterboxes were not only clean but they had been SWEPT around AND THEY TRIMMED PIXIES CLAWS FOR ME 😭😭😭 its the little things like that. just having someone responsible that i could rely on and will do little things like that for me because they care and want to help… thats the kind of environment i want to live in. not one where i constantly feel like im picking up after someone & need to be on guard/conservative of my energy. which brings me to the other thing ive realized isnt going to change

erik is a 100% extrovert and id argue to his detriment. like he requires constant attention and validation in order to be happy. he can’t meet your world with his world, he needs you to be in his world with him. if that makes sense. im kind of on the cusp of introverted/extroverted but lean a little more towards introverted. living with erik makes me a hardcore introvert. being in the same room as erik is seen by him as an invitation to talk, and once you give him an inch he’ll try to take a mile. that isnt to say its a negative thing about him its just his nature to he social in that way. but its also just like… the same thing over and over. like he cant stand to let the conversation die so he’ll just keep repeating himself. this is better explained via example so let me paint a picture:

the cats figured out how to bust into the kitchen cabinet that the trashcan is in, so in order to prevent them from digging through the trash i installed child locks. if youre unaware of them and yank the cabinet too hard it can rip them off so you have to be careful. erik and i both do stuff like that a lot so i put a little sign on the counter that says “DONT 4GET CHILD LOCKS” but since its on a strip of tape all the words look kinda mashed together & erik commented on this saying “i keep reading this 4 like an a and it makes me feel like an italian guy wrote this” and in response i chuckled and said “donta forgeta child locks” and he just. wouldnt stop saying it after that. he laughed much harder than i did and then just kept loudly saying that while doing things in the kitchen (clearly trying to get me to join in but truly it was not that funny to me) and that kind of thing is just so exhausting to be around. its like my dad. just talking at you, not with you.

so anyways its gotten better but fundamentally i think we are just not compatible to be living together. i love erik hes a good friend and a funny guy but he isnt someone i feel comfortable around most of the time unfortunately. he needs to be a “hang out with on occasion” friend not a “see you every single day” friend like he is now. im realizing just how many friends in my life are draining my cup rather than filling it

[limelocked]

(abo anon u know who it isss) Mmmmm good stuff, what you talked about.

Yeah, communal childcare is what would make the most sense by far. Question is how far does it go? Is anyone and everyone within a pack/community equally the "parent", regardless of who is biologically? Or just the bio parents and whoever is closest/suitable? Do they even discriminate at all? Much to think about...

I dont know what you see as pack. So im kinda taking a stab in the dark out here. For inheritance, you would have to differentiate between what is personal belonging versus pack belongings. Is property pack owned? Are cars? Clothes? Is there such a thing as personal items or is it *all* pack belongings. Once you know what a child would even inherit, you can think about what would go to who. For example if anything of financial worth goes to the pack to be reused/sold, and only things of emotional worth are even in question, inheritance is easy. If not, well, i dunno

it really depends on culture how far family goes, some may consider it only the biological family while other cultures consider up to godparents

for the definition of pack id been using it very loosely and without consideration for like how itd have worked pre civilisation but what ive ended up with in the glossary in the essay is this (which is up for editing honestly but it gets the point across)

for modern people a pack is probably close to 25 people on top of family depending on how busy society is and what we came to think about is being part of multiple packs like you have your Pack but if you go on a work trip with the office or a class trip then your class may end up as your pack (because honestly ive been on too many similar trips where that has happened in my real ass life for it to not happen in abo land) which then adds another fun sfw abo prompt of someone who made their work friends their pack and doesnt really have anyone outside that and is fired or otherwise without a job

personal ownership and inheritance would differ wildly between cultures honestly, same as with whats considered family, if the pack were in the equation then id say it would probably be up to the will of the demised to leave the pack as an entity in the will like "when i die i leave [thing] to the pack" or "when i die i leave [x amount of money] to the members of the pack"

a cultural sphere might have it as a general practice that if someone hasnt left a will then certain things go to the pack

makes me wonder what if any legal protections a pack may have

[chelleztjs18]

This is not a question but i just saw the previous ask with that one rude anon and just felt like I had to do something about it because there is 2 things I genuinely despise in this world ,the first one being rude , inconsiderate and dishonest people and yes I’m talking about you Anon if you by any chance see this and the second being unfair accusations or situations now I will explain myself with diplomacy and actual facts to prove my point , you should take some exemple anon ,on how to bring a situation that bothers you to someone ,while still being polite and respectful.

You accuse chelle of being neglectful and no having enough time for her followers right ? I’m gonna reveal something to you , not everybody spend their entire day on the internet , mind blowing right ? It’s funny because if you would have looked further and was really interested not only about the author work but the author herself as well you would have known she has a little girl of a young age to take care of , hence why she can’t spend a whole day on the internet like a person with “no responsibility” such as a child could.

To continue , I would like for you to explain to me how is she being neglectful when she answers to asks literally everyday , I kid you not when I’m telling she is by far the author that interact the most with her community on here and I follow more than 50 authors/writers , she do asks , little games with emojis that allow us to ask her stuff and know more about her when she is not obliged at all and could stay completely private like some author i know do, she listens to everyone and I could continue like that all day long but still you couldn’t notice it since you were to focused on making false accusation and attacking her.

You keep on insisting about her taking to much time to answer to ask and more , do you have any idea of the amount of authors/writers that don’t even respond to comments or anything on here or even wattpad and don’t interact with their community at all ? And those who post maybe 3 times a month ? Im NOT saying everybody as to be quick at all or post everyday I’m nobody to exige anything to anyone but I’m juste showing you some reality chelle post maybe 1 or twice a week at least ,please be for real .And i will go further on this by saying so many authors give us amazing stories /fics etc ,to have little to no feedback in exchange or shitty ones and critics , when they put so much work on their posts , they are people to with feelings and lives.

To finish you said you weren’t attacking her right ? I kindly I vite you to reread you previous ask because you were clearly hostile even tho you claimed than you weren’t and word choices weren’t the nicest nor the smartest.

Learn to be better , to be nicer more respectful and have consideration for others you don’t know what’s going on on somebody’s life so don’t assume nor demand anything when you don’t have all the pieces of a story in you hands it’s just rude and unfair.

Have a nice evening and I truly hope my “ask” will make you think about the way you treat people because being behind the screen doesn’t allow everything nor excuse every behavior.

Hello Kay!

Wow, i'm speechless. This is amazing. I cant thank u enough for taking some of ur time to write this n to show ur support on my side. I almost cried reading this.

All the sweet amazing supporting things u write here really got me. I know we dont talk that much but i appreicate u a.lot for every reactions u gave me on my fic updates, ask games or just any ask / message u sent me. This means a lot to me.

I hope we can be friends 😊 u r very sweet and awesome! Im grateful for u and other friends i met here.

Cheerio!

[no-droids]

Brown Eyes

Part Nine of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 10.1K dont. just dont

Warnings: Smut, AS ALWAYS.  Canon typical violence, verbal references masochism/pain kink (NOT ACTUALLY EXPLORED IN THIS CHAPTER MY DUDES, JUST HINTED AT/DISCUSSED), slight degradation, exhibitionism, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, a bit of ass play (!!!), FLUUUUFFFFFF

***

“What?”

“Hm?”

“What is it?”

“Nothing.”

“What’s the hold up?”

“I’m just…”  The helmet looks you up and down, considering.  You scrunch your nose at him and rock back and forth on your feet impatiently as he sighs.  “It’s going to be like teaching a foundling to read.  I’m just trying to figure out where to even begin.”

“Because it’s so fucking pretty here, I’m just going to pretend you didn’t say that,” you say pointedly, looking around at the vast field of flowing grass surrounding the two of you and breathing in the warm, fresh air into your lungs.  “Your vibe is clashing, Din.”

“Because I don’t really know what that means, I’m also going to pretend you didn’t say that,” he returns, and the child’s giggles float up alongside the breeze as he chases after another, slightly smaller green reptile that you also currently have no name for.  He tilts the beskar thoughtfully at you, and you squint against the way the sun catches the visor directly in your eyes from this angle.  “What do you want to learn first?”

“I want to shoot a gun,” you blurt without thinking.

“Okay, hand-to-hand it is,” he nods firmly, and then pats his unarmored chest with one bare hand.  “Hit me.”

You blink down at the dark fabric stretched across his left pectoral, and then back up at the metallic visor staring back at you.

“Hit me,” he says again in response to your silence.  “Hard as you can.  Right here.”

“Are you sure?”  You ask, lifting your gaze up to him once more with a twist of your mouth, already out of your comfort zone.  “What if I hurt you?”

“Are you fucking kidding?”  He actually sounds… pissed off.  “Hit me.”

You immediately shove your hand up against his chest in response to the sharp order, and your palm makes a quiet slapping sound as it collides with what feels like solid rock concealed underneath black fabric.

Din says absolutely nothing.  Almost a… forced silence.  Like what he wants to say will very likely be vaguely mean and dismissive of your feelings, so he’s keeping his mouth firmly shut under the helmet.  He just pats his chest again, each one purposeful and distinct, easily making twice the amount of noise hitting himself as you did hitting him.

You ball your fist up this time and whack him with it, considerably harder this time and even making a solid thud against his pectoral, though he doesn’t even move a fraction under the blow.

“I am…” he tries to choose his words carefully after another moment of purposeful silence.  “…insulted.”

You grit your teeth and raise your arm up and back, swinging it out at him as hard as you physically can, but then the curve of his broad shoulder suddenly jerks back just before you can touch him and your fist is caught from the side with a gentle grip.

“Better.  You wound up that time, that gives you momentum.  But never come at someone like this,” he tells you, lifting your arm back up to the way it was before and then slowly hinging it down again against his chest.  “This is how you were going to hit.  See how your pinkie is taking the brunt of the punch when you come down at it from an angle like this?”  He pushes your fist against his chest a few times to demonstrate your pinkie squishing against the solid plane of muscle.  “No matter how hard you hit me, your hand is going to take that much force, too.  That attempt had about half the power you want, but you might’ve broken your finger if I let you make contact like that.”

“Half the power?”  You narrow your eyebrows at him.  “You’ll break my whole hand.”

Din angles your wrist straight and pushes your closed fist against his chest again, this time head-on instead of at a downward angle.  “Always try to use these first two knuckles to reinforce against the impact, they’re the strongest and best aligned with the bones in your wrist.  You should also physically brace yourself for it.  Flex your arm—create as much rigidity around your joints as you can, keep your fist clenched tight to maintain integrity of the soft tissues in your hand, and your body should protect itself against the blowback as long as you land right.  Try again.”

You diligently wind your fist up again and then go to snap your arm straight forward this time, but he steps up and catches your elbow before you can even move.  “Wait.  Look at this—see this chicken wing?”  He flaps your elbow back and forth while his other hand holds your fist in place next to your head.  “This is no good, this is where you’re losing half your power.  And having your arm up like this is making you open to rib and kidney shots.”

You squirm to the side when he taps the bend of his knuckle against your kidney, and the vulnerable spot is tender even though he barely uses any force.  “I’m winding up,” you inform him with a huff.

“You are,” Din acknowledges.  “But your movement is limited like this.  See where your elbow is compared to your center of gravity?”  He flaps it again, and your shoulder pulls uncomfortably when he pushes it back just a bit too far.  “You’re restricting yourself, look.  Your shoulder is in the way, this is as far as your body will let you go.  You’re also using up too much energy trying to swing your whole arm around just to make contact; it’s sloppy technique, it slows you down, and it’ll tire you out.  But, if you wind up like this—” Din lowers your elbow until it rests flat against your side, and then hinges it backwards instead of up near your head, “—see how much further away your elbow is from your body now?  Instead of swinging outwards, think of a slingshot forwards.  Use explosive, forward momentum that you generate from your shoulder—you’re aiming for a sharp, streamlined jab.  This way you conserve energy, produce twice as much power, and your arm now covers up all this important stuff under here,” he explains, trying to tap his knuckle against your side once more but being blocked by your forearm.  “Good?  Now go again.”

He lets you go and steps back, and this time you instinctually plant your foot behind you to give you a solid base foundation that’ll allow you more room to twist, your physics brain lighting up as soon as he said slingshot.  His helmet quickly drops to your stance and then immediately lifts back up to your face again.

You do exactly as he said—you wind back, keeping your arm tucked tight to your side, and then explode forward with a sharp spin of your shoulder and snap of your elbow, colliding your clenched fist into his chest as hard as you possibly can.

He grunts and takes two steps back.

You howl.

“FUUUUUCK!”  It gets lost in the giant field of grass as you clutch your fist, torn between cradling it to your chest like a baby and shaking it out violently at your side like… something distinctly not a baby.  You settle for just bending over and holding it tightly to your stomach, eyes clamped shut and screeching with such fervor that the back of your throat stings sharp with it.  “WHAT THE FUCKING—FUCKFUCKFUCK—!?”

“Good!”  Din encourages over your wailing.  “That was good!  How’d that feel?  Holy shit—that felt good.”

“What’s the point of hitting you when it hurts me and makes you feel good!?” You cry out over your shoulder, somewhere between genuine hatred and agony.

“That was perfect,” he tells you immediately, almost sounding vaguely… out of breath behind you?  “Don’t change a thing—that’s how you punch every single time from now on, okay?  That’s how hard you hit.  Fuck, that felt fucking good.”

The… something in his voice is enough to take your mind off your throbbing hand for just a second, quickly snapping upright and whirling around to face him with your eyebrows very, very narrowed.  He stands there in front of you and you continue to eye him with as much silent skepticism as you can express, until the both of you speak at the same time.

“What was that?”

“Let’s go again.”

Neither of you move, and you feel like your face is scrunched up as tiny as possible at him right now with dubiousness.

“Let’s go again,” Din suddenly grunts out, hooking an arm around your elbow and tugging you to face forward once more.

“Did that turn you on?”  You ask him bluntly, your battle wound completely forgotten by your side.

“I swear if you don’t—”

“You get hard when you get hurt?”  You ask dumbly, all sorts of lightbulbs suddenly illuminating in dusty, cobwebbed corners of your mind.  Maker, that would explain so much.  “Is that why you wanted a handjob immediately after I burned a knife wound shut on your back?”

“You wanna learn how to punch today or you wanna learn how to block?”  Comes through the helmet, thoroughly unamused at your antics, but you just break into a mischievous little grin in response and push just one more button of his, knowing he’s only mostly joking.

“I’ll punch you,” you purr.  “Hold your arms up, show me your ribs.”

There’s a split second of silence before he quickly snaps his fist to his chest once again, oh, but it’s enough.  Your shoulders do a little victory shimmy and have to bite your lip to keep from beaming at him, so unbelievably proud of yourself for being able to read him this well without seeing his face. 

But—for the very same reason, you also plant your foot behind you and wind your arm back once more, knowing you were already treading on thin ice.

“Am I gonna have to start calling you chicken wing?”  Din suddenly barks out, a split second into your forward launch.  You almost stumble into him with all the generated momentum and catch yourself just in time, eventually stepping back and resetting with a frustrated huff.  Purposefully tucking your arm tight into your side, you pull back once more.

He mmphs when you make equally hard contact in the very same spot but he doesn’t move this time, and you somehow forgot how horribly painful it is to slam your clenched fist directly against a solid object with all your strength—much less, the second time around.  You attempt to deaden your response as well, but he has the luxury of the helmet to shield his face.  Silencing your scream just makes yours contort unattractively in front of him while your eyes clamp shut and you clutch your wrist, trying to bite back the crippling pain.

“Other hand—use the other hand instead,” he tells you quickly.  “You have two of them.”

“I used to!”  You snarl through the way you can’t even flex it anymore, how your muscles aren’t working through the angry sparks of acute sensation jumping down your fingers.  “Your stupid fucking pecs just broke my good one!”

“Want me to kiss it?”  Din asks—quickly, almost like he can’t help himself, and the snarky tone of it through the modulator coupled with the throbbing pain makes you grit your teeth.

“I used to love your body,” you lift your head and growl up at him while you cradle your swollen claw.  “Why did you take that from me?”

“Give me your hand,” he says calmly, holding his palm out for you.

“No,” you spit, the pain making you stubborn and resistant to anything you don’t immediately offer yourself, but he’s not impressed.  Din easily catches your elbow and brings it up, his other hand gently lacing through your fingers even as you try in vain to pull it away.  “Stop it—”

He completely ignores you and looks back over his shoulder at the kid, dwarfed by the tall grass and continuing to hop around behind what will likely be his lunch, before the helmet turns back to you.  “Eyes closed.”

“This isn’t fucking funn—”

“Close your eyes,” he tells you once more.  “Don’t open them.”

You take a deep breath and grind your teeth, not wanting to be treated like a baby.  It irks you that he’s dedicating so much time and effort into just infantilizing you and your very real pain.  Though, the pain is so real that it makes it almost impossible to express the sentiment—it comes out sounding childishly short and bratty.  “It hurts.”

“I know,” is all he says, soft and lilting and quite possibly as gentle as you’ve ever heard him.  “Close your eyes, sweet girl.”

His tone of voice is the only thing that compels you to listen.  You finally do as he says and flutter your eyes shut, overly aware of the hard grimace on your face now that you can’t see anything.  One of his hands releases you while keeping your numb fingers laced between his, and then a few seconds pass, before you suddenly feel soft lips pressing against your knuckle.

You hiss and tighten up on instinct, more in fear of the pain than the pain itself, but he holds your hand steady as he carefully trails gentle presses of his lips against your knuckles.  After a moment, you breathe out shakily, your eyebrows lifting just slightly at the sensation—before his mouth opens and his warm tongue glides delicately across your sensitive skin.

You gasp and your fingers twitch in between his, suddenly able to move again.  They knock against cool metal as his tongue slowly drags down the valleys between your knuckles—but then Din abruptly drops your hand at the sudden sound of sunshine giggles coming from afar.  Your eyes pop open just as his helmet is yanked down over his jaw once more.

“Let’s…”  He clears his throat through the modulator, taking a small step back.  “Let’s go again.”

***

You collapse down into a pitiful little pile on the grass, trying to catch your breath.  This is ridiculous.  You somehow have tender bruises all over your body and yet you’re the only one who’s done any sort of hitting whatsoever.

“That’s fine, we can take a break,” Din says gruffly from above you, but you’re too tired to even comment on the sarcasm.  You just groan, flopping down flat on your back while he sits in the grass next to you and silently waits for you to start breathing normally again.

“I hate this,” you pant, resting your numb hands against your forehead and squinting against the late afternoon sun.  “I don’t like this.  My body hurts and I barely did anything.”

“You’re good at it,” Din is quick to respond, and the blunt sincerity in his voice takes you aback, making you glance over at him in shock.  “I know,” he nods once the beskar turns and he sees the look on your face, “I didn’t expect it either.”

His tendency to compliment you while simultaneously insulting you doesn’t go unnoticed, but if anything, you decide to take it as a testament to his honesty and comfort in your presence.  Clearly he’d have no issue telling you if you were terrible at this.

Instead of responding, you lace your fingers behind your head and continue to just lay there, closing your eyes against the warm sunshine.  It’s gorgeous here, you get why this planet is renown throughout the galaxy.  Perfect weather, stunningly green rolling hills for miles, the gentle breeze dancing through the tall grass, brilliant white clouds suspended against a beautiful blue backdrop.  The only thing that’s missing is—

“When can we go see the ocean?”  You blurt up at the sky, unable to stop the words before they’re out of your mouth.

“What ocean?”  Comes tiredly through the modulator, monotone and filtered as he shuffles into a more comfortable position.

“Any of them,” you immediately respond, shrugging your shoulders against the grass.  “The closest one.  I’m not picky.”

“…Naboo doesn’t have any oceans,” Din tells you blankly.

You startle slightly, jerking your head over at him.  “What?  But—but I saw it through the transparisteel when we dropped.  This whole planet is practically covered in water.”

“It is,” he agrees with a tilt of his helmet, following you with the visor as you finally scramble to sit yourself upright.  “But it’s all one big… body of water.  Locals call it the Abyss, it stretches across the entire planet through a system of underground caves and tunnels.  It only surfaces as rivers and lakes and swamplands, though.  No ocean.  Not really.”

“Oh.”  It’s blank, but it’s… lacking.  The sun glinting against metal gives you an excuse to subtly turn your head away from him, and you hold back your sigh of disappointment.

“What’s the matter?”  He grunts after a moment, somehow succeeding in sounding mildly disinterested while still bothering to ask.  He props his knee upright to rest his elbow on it, apparently able to read you better than ever as well.

“Nothing,” you say on instinct and shake your head, already knowing it’s dumb.  You’re being dumb, there’ll be other planets with oceans—you just haven’t had the opportunity to go to one yet.

Din doesn’t say anything after that, but he also keeps the helmet subtly turned towards you, like he’s just… waiting.  The quiet almost doesn’t sound quiet anymore, not when there’s such a loud unspoken question still lingering in it.

“It’s just,” you say after a moment, trying to smile, but it doesn’t feel real.  It’s nothing more than a movement your mouth makes and it feels at odds with the mild disappointment you’re trying to hide.  “I used to be a moisture farmer.  Back on Arvala-7, where we first met.”

His continued silence tells you nothing.  You don’t know whether he’s confused and you should elaborate, whether he understands and doesn’t need an explanation, whether he’s interested or disinterested.  Nothing.  So after another few more seconds of nothing, you decide to keep going.

“There's something about water that just… hits different when you spend your entire life on a planet without any,” you say quietly, picking at a few blades of grass by your knees instead of looking at him.  “When I was a little girl, I used to think it was as rare in the rest of the galaxy as it was where I was born.  A limited resource you had to farm from the atmosphere to drink, because it didn’t occur naturally in liquid form.  It was… valuable.  Delicate.  Crystal clear—never saw more than a few dozen gallons of it at a time.  Something to be cherished.  Something you’d never want to waste even just dipping your hand into, because the dirt on your skin would contaminate it.”

You smile once more, but this time it feels a little bit better.  “You know… the first shower I took on the Crest the day I left that Maker-forsaken planet was the first time I ever felt my hair get wet.  We only ever had sonic showers on Arvala-7.”  And stars, the memory of it makes you want to shudder.  Ultrasonic waves vibrating the dirt and sweat off your body sounds a lot more thorough than it actually is.  You never felt truly clean until you were soaking wet on the Crest with shampoo in your hair, giggling like a child in the fresher while you made yourself a soapy little beard.

It springboards into another memory—the moment you first reached for a towel after showering, catching a glimpse of your hands and startling at the sight of your wrinkled, pruny fingertips.  You’d never heard of such a phenomena before that point.  You thought you’d asked Kuiil about everything, but to be entirely fair, he might not have even realized it happened, not from the leathery texture of his xenospecies’ skin.  The questions he did answer for you were plenty though, and you suddenly remember something he said to you years ago that was so jarring and unexpected that it’s stuck with you to this day.

“Kuiil told me once that water was loud,” you suddenly hear yourself say, and though your soft laugh is nostalgic and sincere, you don’t know why, but you instantly tear up as soon as the words leave your mouth.  “Loud.  How could—could water be loud?  What… what noise would it make?”

You sniff and continue to pick at the grass, a bit more vigorously this time, purposefully keeping your eyes down and blinking quickly.  “He said… he said streams and brooks… b-bubble.  They bubble.  And rain… rain is like static—like white noise, but… natural.  Not generated by a machine.  He said the ocean is the loudest, though.  It roars.  It’s powerful.”

Swallowing the lump in your throat and glancing up, you try to distract yourself from the memory of your close friend by looking out at the wavy grass, trying to see if you can spot the kid being dwarfed by it.  You can’t, not from this low angle, but you can still hear him playing happily in the distance.

“I’ve seen all the others now, thanks to you,” you confess quietly.  “Rain, rivers, lakes—but I always wanted to see an ocean.  A big, scary one, where the sound would just be… deafening.  Water, tons of it, crashing up against rocks and filling the air with mist.  Used to dream about them.  Wanted to see something I used to think was rare fill my entire field of view.  Wanted to see something I always thought was precious turn into something formidable.”

Din continues staring silently at you through your peripheral while you keep picking at the grass absently.

“I just—I don’t know.”  You finally look over at him and sigh, smiling softly and shrugging your shoulders.  “I just always dreamed of a place where I could go, a place where I could open my eyes and all I’d be able to see—all I could hear—was water.”

You stop talking after that, having run out of things to say and realizing you probably shared a little too much without ever being prompted.  The sunlight is gentle and easy, however, and it encourages you to close your eyes and just breathe, letting silent, eternal gratitude to the man next to you fill you.  You’d never know any sun that isn’t harsh, you’d never know the greenness of the tall grass in this sprawling field had he not found you, given you a chance to tag along the galaxy with him and his carnivorous little sidekick.

The sun begins making you sleepy the more you sit here in the middle of paradise, eyes closed and tasting the gorgeous air in your lungs.  But eventually, Din stands up and steps in front of you, opening both of his bare palms towards the setting sky and bouncing them up and down a few times.  “Up.  Come on.  I’ll teach you how to throw an uppercut before nightfall.”

You groan but lift your hands in his direction all the same, trying not to wince while you make grabby fingers at him, your knuckles slightly bruised and red.  He sighs and wraps his hands purposefully around your elbows, urging you up as he takes a few steps backwards.

It’s awkward.  You’re still feeling lazy and droopy-eyed, and the cool shadow he casts makes you even more sleepy.  You think he’s going to help more than you have to pull yourself up, and he clearly thinks he’s there to be your platform instead of your forklift.  What results is just you being dragged uselessly by your arms in front of him, until your torso and legs are stretched in an uncomfortable J-shape on the ground and your forehead bumps into his lower tummy.

He stops and holds you there, before grunting out, “Use your feet.”

“Just let me fall,” you tell him, your lips brushing against the dark fabric while your shoulders and spine pull tight at this angle.  “Just leave me here like this.”

The sigh he makes above you feels like he puts his whole entire being into it.  Din leaves you propped up against him for a second while he grumbles and readjusts his hold further up near your shoulders, before he maneuvers you until you’re gently settling down on your knees in the grass.

You think (hope) he’s going to release you and let you take a nap, but then you gasp when he shifts and the toe of his boot suddenly wedges itself between your closed thighs.  He lifts up on your arms just slightly, enough to take the weight off your knees so he can swipe his foot out and kick one of them open, before plopping you back down again and letting you go.

Up until that point, you’d been good.  You were content with being boneless for him and seeing how he’d deal, but then he gracefully crouches down in front of you and wraps one powerful arm around your back, hugging you tight to his chest.  Din’s open thighs frame your kneeling figure and you can feel his cock pressed against your tummy from this angle, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

For some reason, he decides to take this next part slow.  Maybe it’s because he can probably feel the way your heart is starting to kick up against his unarmored chest right now, but he drags it out.  Broad shoulder dropping and his helmet finding a home in the crook of your neck, Din braces you to his chest with one arm while the other slithers down the curve of your ass and then under—his forearm pressing firmly between your cheeks and then his open palm flattening tight along the length of your pussy from behind.

You moan softly next to the helmet while he works the thick muscles in his thighs to gradually lift you both from the ground.  Maker, the tips of his fingers are curved hard against your slit through your pants while he rises, pulling you up until gravity causes your thighs to slowly meet around his hand and your legs to dangle.

The feat of strength turns you on just as much as his choice of positioning does.  Fuck, you know you’re not the lightest person in the galaxy, but Din carefully sets you down on your feet without even so much as a grunt of effort, his hand staying tucked tight between your legs for longer than necessary.  Biting your lip and pressing your face into his shoulder does nothing to stop the quiet whimper you make when he decides to grind his strong fingers up into you just a bit.

“Din,” you whisper, wanting to melt into him, but then he’s instantly ripping his hand away and taking a step back.

You nearly fall over at the sudden lack of support after relying solely on him for it for so long, but you don’t even have enough time to open your mouth in upset.  There’s just a split second before a green blur bursts through the tall grass with a squeal and trips over the baggy potato sack around his body.

It’s like it happens in slow motion.  You both watch as he flies forward, skidding more than once on the ground and then landing face-down on your shoe, the little thump on your foot feeling so adorably anticlimactic after all the buildup.

Nobody moves for a second, except for the way your eyes flicker up at the visor currently tilted towards the ground.  You can tell Din is just holding his breath, just waiting to see if—

A hiccup.  You see broad shoulders tighten under the dark fabric, and then a sudden piercing wail is released against your shoe.

“Shit,” Din curses, already scooping the little thing up and bouncing him slightly to pacify him.  You bite your lip against the way his ears flop from the movement and he screams even louder.  “Hey hey hey, stop.  Stop it.  Stop crying.”

“Uh oh!  Where’d your little friend go?”  You ask while Din immediately turns the kid around to face you, your voice pitched soft and high in your register as you step closer.  “Did you eat him already?”

He just shudders out a cry, probably an affirmative, his mouth dropping and his little teeth peeking through while he sobs and his giant eyes well with tears.

“Shit,” Din curses again, this time in defeat, but you won’t give up that easy.

“Hey—hey goose, wanna see me beat your daddy up?”  You ask, lightly booping the little bump of his nose.  “Huh?  Wanna see me fight?”  You pull your top lip up into a ridiculous little snarl and flex your arms threateningly, and the sobs suddenly stutter to a stop within a few breaths.  “Op, yep.  See—he knows I’ll kick your ass, Din, he just got scared.”

“Please,” the modulator pfftts quietly, but the kid just blinks at you while you keep growling.

“I’ll hurt him real bad,” you promise him, putting your fists up in front of you and bouncing your weight back and forth like a prized boxing champ.  “I’ll, uh…” your list of trash talk repertoire is admittedly rather short, and both of them wait in silence for you to figure it out, the bigger one a lot less entertained than his miniature counterpart.  “I’ll punch him just.  So hard.  So hard that… it’ll bruise.  Yeah—I’ll make him bleed underneath his skin.”

“No, this is good, keep going,” Din encourages after a moment of awkward silence.  “Maybe you’ll be able to find your way there at some point.”

You ignore him, bobbing and ducking and then popping him one good in the shoulder with an accompanying vocal sound effect—except you quickly jerk your hand away and shake your wrist out, staring up at the helmet like he deeply offended you and mouthing, “Ow.”

A smile.  The smallest ghost of one, but you see it on the kid’s teeny green mouth when you flick your eyes down to him.

So, Din spends the rest of the lingering daylight teaching you the proper uppercut technique while he cradles an adorable little bug-eyed baby in one arm.  You keep making faces at him while throwing your fist up against his dad’s extended, downturned palm, until he finally starts giggling again.

***

Whelp, turns out you’re a fucking idiot.  Or maybe just a selfish bitch, either way.  Not a good look.

You thought, from the way the lovely afternoon went, that you were getting better at reading Din.  Knowing when to joke around, when to keep pushing, and when to stop talking, all from just his body posture and tone of voice alone.  But you’re also an idiot, as you’ve already established.

As you three headed back to the Crest through the dusky twilight evening, you remember telling Din that if there weren’t any oceans on Naboo, then you’ll at least be able to sleep in a bed on this planet.  A real one, one with a—oh stars, an actual mattress.  The word alone sent shivers down your spine, and the baby cooed while blinking his eyes slowly, well on his way to being tuckered out from the long day outside.

You don’t remember Din directly responding, but then again, that isn’t really all that rare in the grand scheme.  Granted, he was arguably more talkative today than ever before, and he did get a little bit quieter after that, but still, you couldn’t have known.  Only an incredibly hyper-observant person would’ve noticed in the moment—you’re lucky you can even recall this much in hindsight.

Though, this next part should’ve been more of a direct giveaway.  Once you were in the Crest, he put his armor back on.

You still didn’t think.  It’s such a normal thing, the beskar fitting tight to magnetic plates around his shoulders, thighs, and chest.  It’s normal, he wears it all the time.  Having him walking around in broad daylight sans armor and gloves today was odd, that was the outlier.

He flew the vessel to the nearest town, a quaint little village on the edge of a gorgeously full forest.  The ride was as gentle as possible—you were feeling soft and decided to hold the baby as he drifted off instead of placing him in the quiet darkness of his cradle.  The ears tend to make things a bit awkward, but after months of practice with it, you’re now a pro at rocking the little guy to sleep in your arms.

Din’s continued silence didn’t bother you—or really even register, considering you were trying to be quiet as well.  He slung your go-bag around his shoulder and pressed a few buttons on his vambrace to set the kid’s sphere protocols to follow behind him, before pressing a gloved palm to your lower back and leading you down the ramp, the sleepy baby tucked tight into your arms.

There were people in the village mingling while you three walked down the cobblestone path to the nearest inn, giving your ragtag group double-takes as you passed.  The innkeeper, however, was blind.  Not only did you not receive the same terrified courtesy the barkeep on Canto Bight had afforded you before, but he was clearly used to spotting and swindling newcomers, sightless or not.

“Only room left’s a suite,” he drawled, the cloudy whites of his pupils hovering just between your left shoulder and Mando’s right pauldron.  “Five hundred credits a night.”

The color drained from your face, your heart doing a giant flip in your chest and completely fucking up the landing.  You turned to Mando to reassure him that absolutely nothing about this was necessary, but he was already dropping the ridiculous amount of credits on the desk without a single word.

That should’ve been the nail in the coffin, to be honest.  His immediate willingness to hand over that many credits without the slightest protest, grumble, or sigh was the kicker—that’s how you should’ve known something wasn’t right.  He didn’t even allow you to split the cost when you offered to reimburse him on the way to the room.

But again.  You’re an idiot, so.

At least the suite is gorgeous.  Slightly old-fashioned and moonlit enough to skip even flicking the lights on, illuminated by large open windows with views of the village streets and sprawling mountains and forest beyond.  Everything inside is either cream or white, so clean and soft, and being able to feel the breeze billowing through the gauzy curtains is just.  After months of traveling in that enclosed ship, it’s restorative.  Almost nothing in here is made of metal.

So it’s not until right now—almost immediately after you settled the kid down into the incredibly large guest bed and walked into the master bedroom to find Mando sitting perfectly still on the edge of the mattress—now something feels off.  He looks so out of place as you quietly snap the door shut behind you.  The enormous floor to ceiling window decorating the far side of the room bathes him in pale light, highlights the blaster marks and bits of dirt clinging to the beskar as he sits on the bed.

“You’re going to get the sheets all dirty,” you, an idiot, tell him, your voice barely above a murmur.  “Take off your—”

“I can’t,” he rushes, though he jumps up from the mattress all the same.  You snap your mouth shut and freeze.  “It’s safe here but it’s… it’s still not a good idea, not if I want to sleep.  Not with people around, and all these… windows.”

The words send you reeling.  You had no idea, you thought… “Oh.  I’m sorry, that—”

You immediately go silent, feeling absolutely fucking awful.  You didn’t think.  All you could think about was that bed underneath you, and you maybe… blindfolded in some way?  And then of course, him, in it—completely naked, helmet off, and laying next to you.

“You’re okay,” Mando tells you with a shrug, not sounding like… anything.  He looks like he’s about to say something else—his chestplate lifts with an inhale as he turns to you, but then seems to stop right as he’s about to speak.

“Shit—please sit on the bed, I don’t care if you’re dirty,” you quickly say, just as he blurts out, “You can still take your clothes off though.”

You blink at him for a second, not sure you heard him right.  “…What did y—”

“You can, uh.”  His voice is soft.  “I can… lay down.  On top of the sheets.  In my armor, just like this, and then you can take your clothes off and just.  Rub up on me a little bit.  If you want.”

A shudder quite suddenly rockets down your spine at the tone of his voice, the quiet, slightly hesitant murmur through the modulator.  The gulp you take is audible through the room, the only other sound being the closest trees rustling in the breeze outside.  The spread curtains dance with it, but they’re too sheer and light to make a noise.  “O-Okay.”

“Yeah?”  He asks lowly, and you quickly nod.

“Yeah,” you whisper, your body beginning to tingle, “sit—sit back down.”

He goes to move but then abruptly stops, and you hold your breath while you watch the visor jerk just a fraction to pin you in place.  Something instantly feels… different about him, a silent shift taking place within just a singular moment.  Like he all of a sudden realized that he didn’t actually like that very much.

Instead of acquiescing, Mando slowly steps in front of you, straightening up to his full height and absolutely dwarfing you with it, and your palms start to sweat.  Maker, when he speaks, it sends shivers down your body and the last thing you hear in his voice is hesitation.

“Take off your clothes,” he tells you, a dangerous edge to his soft tone.  The quiet dominance in it feels like the floor beneath you rumbles from it.

On instinct, your eyes flick over his shoulder to the open window and the village outside.  It’s barely been a few hours since sundown—townspeople are strolling down winding streets in the distance, ghostly moonlight mixes with the warm glow from large oil lamps lining the pubs and street corners.

You look back at him barely a split second later as he stands there in front of you, waiting.

You startle and immediately move to grab at the hem of your shirt, and your fingers unintentionally tremble as they start to pull it up. 

“Stop.”

His voice breaks through the silence, the modulated order halting your movements immediately.  You blink up at him, letting your shirt drop back down again, and Mando takes a second to look back at you, studying you from under the beskar.

“Go stand by the window,” he suddenly says, lazily tilting the helmet to gesture at it.

Your blood pounds in your ears during the still moments following, the thrill of it making you nearly go deaf for a second.  After you recover from the visceral heatwave that rockets through you, you slowly walk over to the window and then turn your back on the ballooning curtains to look at him.  The beskar is still pinned to you over his shoulder, though the rest of his body hasn’t moved.

“Turn around,” he tells you, and you shakily do as he says, rotating to face the open window.  You’re close enough to make out people’s expressions from here—friends mingling as they stroll down the sidewalk, their mouths moving but their voices and laughter muted at this distance.  An outdoor restaurant serving local cuisine to patrons and out-of-towners, a violinist and cellist performing a silent duet on the street corner.

There’s shuffling behind you.  The creak of the bedframe as he lowers himself on it and moves around, before eventually coming to a rest in what you assume is a comfortable position.

“You can keep going,” eventually comes his filtered voice from the bed.

Your eyelashes dip and flutter as more hot sparks of arousal kindle deep in your floor muscles.  Lifting your shirt up over your head has never felt like such high stakes before, but even as the fabric falls to the ground, your gaze continuously searches for anyone outside who may catch a glimpse.  Though, you’re not sure if it’s in dread or some kind of sick excitement.

The breeze hardens your nipples while you work at your pants, and the hair on your arms stands up when you remember who’s behind you, silently watching you get turned on by this.  Along with your underwear, your pants are pushed down your thighs, but instead of moving back from the pool around your ankles, you take a purposeful step forward towards the open window.

“Fuck—you dirty little thing,” you hear him breathe out, and a shiver rolls through you.  “Tell me how many people you can see right now, count them.”

You try your best, but give up halfway through and provide a rough estimate.  “F-Fifteen.”

“Scanner says seventeen from here,” Mando challenges lowly.  “Seventeen pairs of eyes that can look up any second and see your naked body.  Stripped bare, shaking, vulnerable.  Your gorgeous fucking tits.”

As hard as your teeth dig into your bottom lip at the rasp through the modulator, your nails dig into your palms even harder.  Still, you don’t move, and the open drapes flick and brush against your thighs as you hold there, the gentle wind doing absolutely nothing to cool your flushed skin down.

And oh, he waits.  He’s good about that, especially when he can probably read your infrared signature through the helmet right now.  You’re surprised you haven’t outright blinded him by how white-hot your body feels.  But after what feels like a small eternity, he eventually murmurs, “Come over here.”

Once you turn around and see the way he’s just laying back on the bed, relaxing and enchanted with the show, it’s a miracle you don’t trip on anything with how quickly you hurry towards him.  You’re already standing next to the edge of the mattress by the time you even register his body is subtly tilted so that his boots are hanging purposefully off the side of it.

Regardless of the hard dominance he’s exhibiting, the symbolic gesture somehow feels like it flips a switch inside you and lights up pure, aching adoration for him.  But against every instinct screaming at you to just scramble on top of him and show him how much you appreciate his thoughtfulness, you wait.  You wait for him to tell you what to do.

His glove lifts, comes up to gently touch the side of your face and cradle your jaw, and you have to clamp your hands together to stop yourself from reaching for him.

“Are you wet?”  Mando murmurs, sounding like his lips barely even brush against each other when they move under the beskar.  You don’t trust yourself to say anything without it turning into a desperate plea, so you just close your eyes and jerk your head in a nod, feeling your cheek graze against the leather on his palm with the movement.  It’s hard to swallow when your mouth feels so dry, and he lets you just suffer there and tremble for him a little while longer, letting out a quiet hum through the modulator as his thumb carefully rides the line of your cheekbone.

Maker, where does all this fucking patience come from?  Under normal circumstances, Mando is probably one of the most impatient people you’ve ever met, and yet.  It’s like he stores it all up.  Hoards it and refuses to dip into it most of the time—perfectly content to have a quick temper in most interactions, if only so that he can keep it handy for moments like this.  If only so he can have a seemingly endless supply of patience to sustain him while your average-sized stockpile is gradually and inevitably being depleted.

“You want to get up here with me?”  He asks quietly, and stars, that’s still not a directive, no matter how much it could casually imply one.  The ridiculous thing is—he never even told you this was expected of you.  Not once did he tell you to follow his words like they're gospel, not once did he say there was something wrong with speaking directly to him without prompting, or acting without explicit instruction.  He never even implied anything like that at all, but you still hold your body completely rigid as you jerk a nod against his palm once more.

Stars, it just isn’t fair.  He doesn’t look any different from how he looks every single day—there’s no patch of golden skin to tease you, beskar is covering him head to toe, but you’re hotter for him than you think you’ve ever been.  He’s stretched out long on the bed, a portion of him darkened by your silhouette but the rest bathed in gorgeous moonlight, breathing slow as he takes you in.  You stare silently at the visor, and for some reason, you—you’re quite suddenly struck with how gorgeous he could secretly be under there and you’ll just… you’ll never know.  You know his hair is thick and dark, you know the softness of his mouth, the sunkissed color of his skin, the prominent nose and straight teeth on the rare but blissful occasions he’d let you kiss him.  His eyes, though.  They could be any color.  Your credits have been on brown for a while, but the thought of you not knowing for sure… the thought of you actually having to ask him something like that is just—it makes you ache to touch him even more.  To give him something tangible at least, when you know the only way to ever have a true visual connection with him is with a dark visor between you.

You try to let the sentiment transfer through your needy expression, hoping he can read it from there.  His cock is hard—you can see it in your peripheral, pressing up against the dark fabric of his pants, but it’s like you’re the only one who notices.  He’s still admiring your face, or fuck, maybe he’s looking at your body—you can never tell for sure, but regardless, you stare purposefully at wherever you think his eyes ought to be, silently pleading with him and starting to get desperate.

Finally—fucking finally, the helmet rocks to the side just slightly, just the smallest tilt of his head towards his body, but the nonverbal invitation is enough.  Air you didn’t realize was even in your lungs suddenly whooshes out of you as you all but launch forwards onto the mattress to try and climb on top of him.

—Except, then his hand quickly drops from your face to press firm against your thighs, blocking the way your far leg tries to lift to swing over him in a straddle.  Disappointment crashes through you with an audible whimper and you start to panic a little bit as you shakily plant both knees back on the bed, wondering what you possibly did wrong.  Was it because he didn’t specifically say it was okay?  Was he just testing your obedience?

The beskar vambrace feels cool against your burning skin, and you try not to let the trembling of your body manifest itself in your breathing as Mando lazily drags his glove along your thighs.  Neither one of you says anything as he eventually trails his hand back and around, leather fingers coming to a rest between your legs while his thumb rides high, just under the curve of your ass.

And then he slowly starts pulling, before he gradually leads the leg closest to him up and over his body instead, until you’re settling into a straddle on top of his hips.  Backwards.

Everything in you shudders violently as both gloves gently trail up the length of your naked back, letting you brace your hands on the beskar strapped to his thighs and settle on top of him.

“Look at that,” he hums, letting his hands fall back down to the meat of your ass, grabbing handfuls of it and squeezing hard enough to make you bite back a gasp.  “Fucking pretty.  Pretty girl.  Stars, I fucking love looking at you, know that?”

The praise makes you mewl quietly and spread your knees even further, dropping your hips down until the underside of his cock presses up tight into your aching pussy.  You arch your back and walk your hands forward just a bit, just until you’re holding onto his knees and you have the right angle to start slowly rocking your body back and forth.

“Maker,” you whisper, your head tipping back while you drag your pussy against his pulsing erection, and his hands keep massaging your ass while the words start falling out of you now that you released the floodgate.  “Maker, I love your body.  So big, and—and strong.  Fucking hard, thick cock.  Fuck, I love your cock.  I love how fucking hard you get—”

“Bend over,” Mando breathes out behind you, his hands suddenly releasing fistfuls of your ass to grab around your hips and bring you to a stop.  “Fuck, keep talking like that, but show me your—just let me… let me look at it.”

Your heart slams against your sternum, your clit pulsing against the hard ridge of his cock, knowing exactly what he’s talking about.  Slowly, you bend your upper body over until your tummy lays flat along the cool beskar shielding his thighs and your tits are pressed against his kneecaps.  Your arms are long enough to rest your hands on his ankles like this, and your thighs are spread wide to keep your cunt pushed up against his cock.  But stars, you know he has a perfect view right now.  The slick lips of your pussy smearing against his dark pants, both holes on full display for him in the moonlight.

“Keep—Keep talking,” Mando reminds you after a moment, sounding painfully turned on while his cock jumps against your clit.  “Keep going.  Use it, get yourself off.  Let me watch.”

“Fuck, I love your cock,” you hear yourself repeat, breathless and needy as your hips start grinding down against him once more, the words coming from you without giving them any thought whatsoever.  He grunts and pushes it up for you, letting you get at it easier.  “I think about it all the time.  Think about the first time I felt it, how you were already rock fucking hard for me when I touched you.  You came so quick, right in my hand, in your pants—it was so fucking hot.”

“I’d had—” he grits out in his defense, “—shit, I’d had a… a rough day, and your hands were.  Fuck, s-soft, and—”

“Maybe,” you concede, biting your lip and closing your eyes against the swirling pleasure spreading hot through your body, the heat that burns you alive hearing the familiar warble through the modulator when he’s starting to lose himself in pleasure.  “Or maybe it was because you were half-conscious with a brand new scar on your back.”

His filtered groan rolls down your spine and his cock pulses hard against your cunt through the fabric of his pants, making you spasm in delight.  Fuck, your head drops down completely, just dragging yourself back and forth on top of him as you chase your orgasm like this.  Shameless—your ass flexing in front of him with every roll of your hips, your lower muscles fluttering with every drag against his cock.

“Fuck—fuck, let me touch your asshole,” Mando whispers suddenly, lifting himself up on one elbow and dragging the other hand up the curve of your cheek.  “Just—just a little bit, I won’t pu—”

“Oh stars above, fucking please,” you gasp against one of his legs, nearly jerking back against his hand as your pussy fucking leaks through his pants with it.  “I’ll let you do anything you want, you can—can put your thumb inside it—”

His other hand leaves you for a split second, and you think he’s taking his glove off, except then it swings down to crack hard against your ass, making you gasp and instantly go still for him on his lap.

The smooth leather covering the pad of his thumb carefully glides down your crevice, and you hold your breath until it finally brushes over the tight ring of muscle flexing for him.

“That all you’ll let me put in here?”  Mando asks quietly, and you let out a complete mess of a whimper, trying your best not to move under the bold touches.

You get another firm smack on the ass for being rendered mute for too long.  “Tell me,” he growls, rubbing his thumb against the vulnerable entrance while his cock throbs against your cunt.

“I’ll—I’ll let you do anything you want,” you moan once more, and stars, you can’t help it.  Your hips start to grind down against him even harder than before, and Mando curses as he slowly rides your movements with his hand.

“Dirty,” he grits out.  “Dirty girl.  You ever take it back here before?”  And stars, the way his cock drags against your pussy starts to make you lightheaded, how casually he’s talking about this while starting to circle his thumb around it and press firm against it.  Not hard enough to push inside, but enough to feel the natural resistance give just a bit.

“No,” you breathe, starting to pant while you work against him.  “Boys have tried.  But I’d let you.”

“Fuck,” he hisses, suddenly rocking his hips up against yours.  You nearly choke and your legs start to lock up, making your movements stunted.  “Fuck.  I bet you’d let me do it right fucking now, wouldn’t you?  Right here in front of this f-fucking window, where everyone can see?  Let me flip you over and stretch you out, and then fuck your tight little—virgi—”

“Maker, get your cock out,” you gasp, heat burning at your center and beginning to spread outwards.  It tingles hot through your lower abdomen and you start to get frantic, knowing you don’t have much time before your orgasm hits.  “Please, just let me ride it, let me cum on it—”

“No,” Mando immediately grunts, and you make a small sound of distress that quickly turns into a high-pitched mewl against his leg when the very tip of his thumb just barely breaches the haloed entrance.

“But—but I’m so wet,” you whisper, “oh stars, can’t you see it?  I’m dripping.  You could just slide it right in right now, I’d take it so fucking easy—”

He rips his hand away just long enough to smack your ass once again, hard enough to ring through the room and make you gasp.  “Quit.  You’ll take whatever the fuck you’re given and you’ll endure,” he snaps.  “Not here, not tonight.”

You bite back desperate protests.  He’d fuck you in a dark alleyway on Canto Bight but not here?  As if you haven’t already done so multiple times this evening, you immediately lament your stupid mouth and the thoughtless mattress comment.  You wish you could take it all back—you don’t care how nice this bed is, you want to sleep in anything he’ll fuck you in.  Nonetheless, your orgasm gallops forward and leaves your body struggling to keep up behind it—but Maker, you want so badly to feel him inside you when it finally hits.  You want to sink down on him and feel him break you open just as you start to cum.

“Oh fuck, please give me it,” you whine, sounding on the edge of delirium, the words pressed high and unintentional as your hands clutch at his legs.  “Oh Maker, please, please fuck me—fuck me in a real bed, please, just—fuck me right now and I swear I’ll sleep on fucking rocks for you every single night for the rest of m—”

A snarl rips through the modulator and he shoves your hips forward just enough, just enough to rip his waistband down—

You gasp in blinding relief and flip your head over your shoulder to watch, but then subtle movement catches in your peripheral.  You glance up just in time to see the doorknob slowly turning.

Thank your lucky stars you react on instinct alone, squealing and jumping off him before quickly shuffling under the covers.

“What the fu—” comes an enraged, filtered growl, metal clanking with how quickly he flips over to reach for you, but then he cuts off and the helmet whips to the door as it unlatches and slowly creaks open. 

The blankets are pulled tight under your chin as you shuffle down as far as possible, and though you can’t see the intruder from this angle, Mando is instantly reaching back to rip the pillow out from under the helmet and press it tight over his crotch, huffing out a sigh.

Soon, you’re able to spot one pointy little ear pop up, followed by the rest of the little gremlin scaling the treacherously tall comforter, pulling himself over the edge of the mattress with a determined three-finger hold and then doing a completely unnecessary little barrel roll once he’s on the level springtop.  The fact that it’s so fucking adorable just serves to irk you even more, and both of you silently watch the kid push himself up on two feet and then waddle slowly in between you two.

He finds a pillow he likes—one that happens to be placed directly in between you and his dad, before he settles himself down on it like a small bed on top of a much larger one.  The little stinker then flutters his abnormally giant eyes closed and seems to instantly fall back asleep.

There’s a few minutes where you just blink across from Mando, flicking your gaze between the chrome visor and the baby’s peaceful face.  Is this… is he serious right now?

“Were we being too loud?”  You eventually whisper, barely above a breath.  “Or is he just being purposefully annoying?”

He doesn’t answer you.  And, well, you suppose he has a point.  Regardless of why, it appears he's here now. 

You let out a slow breath and just try and relax, try and think beyond the flare of annoyance at the interruption, how close you were to feeling him fuck you into this mattress.  He’d still have the armor and helmet on, of course, but it would be just domestic enough to ruin you. 

But then again—you suppose this, if anything, is even more domestic.  Doing your best to calm your racing thoughts so you can eventually fall asleep directly across from him with his mildly aggravating, heartstealing little adopted kid snoring quietly between you.

Quite a while passes before you feel your eyelids growing heavy.  You spend almost the entire time studying every single inch of Mando while he faces you on the mattress.  The sharp angles and smooth curves of his helmet, concave in places but convex in others.  How fitting, you think.  To cover a man with a helmet just like him—sharp, smooth, contrasting, and deflective enough about what lies underneath to be reflective.

Then you find yourself thinking about what he’s hiding under it.  Once more.  You try to picture him, but it’s… it’s difficult.  You’re not used to translating things you’ve only touched into visual representations, it’s just not a skill you’ve ever needed to have handy.  And what about all the things you can’t, or haven’t been able to feel?  Freckles, or birthmarks?  Dimples?  Are his lashes long or short?  Do they stick out in a fringe when he clamps his eyes shut?  Does his nose scrunch up when he laughs?  Do his ears stick out?  Does he have wrinkles on his forehead, or around his eyes?

Maker, what color are they?

You continue to stare at the metal faceplate, blinking droopily at it but forcing yourself to stay awake just a bit longer.  Enjoy the feeling of the soft mattress underneath you while you still can, relaxing into the cool sheets and delaying your inevitable descent into dreams.  Savoring his extended presence here with you for as long as possible.

“Do you have brown eyes?”  You hear yourself murmur to him through the quiet darkness, lips barely touching and the words slurred from exhaustion.  You want to know.  You want to be able to color in the last paint-by-number of his face before you begin your work on the finer details.

Again, he doesn’t answer, and you figure he’s probably asleep.

[tomodachi-z]

A different take on their relationships

So I was scrolling through the genshin thread and soon came to a realization that most of the relationship Hc’s were pretty fluff based, which got me thinking - was that really all there was?  Even if Genshin was a heartfelt game i couldnt really believe that all of them would be pure husband material - which sort of spiraled into this.

- This is purely my take on how some of the Genshin boys would approach relationships, its just some random thoughts though so take it as you will.

Characters: Zhongli, Diluc, Kaeya, Childe

Tw: angst, abuse, toxic relationships, mentions of death, just overall scummy behavior.

Slight NSFW

Minors DNI

Zhongli

Honestly, out of the whole lot of them i think he’d be the most civil. Apart from his bad traits that is.

First of all I dont believe Zhongli would actively pursue a relationship, however he would be open to it, though the chances of it being a special “love at first sight” is practically zero. Hes lived thousands of years and seen humanity evolve as a whole, hes met millions of people over the years and peoples faces really arent that different, they just blur together at this point. So if we were to go by that logic, his love interest would have to be someone he interacts with on a day to day basis - or at the very least weekly.

If he was starting to develop an attachment to you, I believe he would also be fairly upfront about it, asking you out and courting you wouldn't be anything new, he’s had lovers before after all.

But this is where it starts to get a bit off-putting. Even if your relationship is sailing along fine, he’d still compare it to the others he’s had. Your taste in clothing, your choice of books, how you style your hair. Every now and again he’d utter something like “Ah ___ used to style their hair like that.” Or “Your eyes are so familiar, just like ___...” in which case the blank space is a previous lovers name. Not that he’d divulge that to you. Even if you ask him about the people he keeps mentioning he’d brush you off and change the subject. Though sometimes he forgets himself and calls you by a different name.

He would also never tell you he’s a God. And you wouldn’t find out either.

 Hes hidden it from the whole of Liyue, why would you be any different? His role as Archon was over anyway so there would be no point to it.

So you would live your life never finding out about him, not ever truly reaching his heart, because his heart is already filled to the brim with memories, and whatever little space you occupy there would also fade along with your passing. You would have no children, for I truly believe that Zhongli just would not want children, his one and only child would remain Liyue, and your name would be uttered in passing, when he confuses his next lover with you.

Happy Ending?

Zhongli would still love you

He would cherish and comfort you

But there was nothing in this world more lonely than immortality.

He would love again but it would only repeat the cycle unless he truly comes to terms with himself.

It would take a lot of time, perhaps even an eternity, but I believe that his past relationships would actually help him realize something.

That even though humans were much the same he loved you all individually.

At the end of time he would recount each one of your names, in the hopes that you would take him with you, so that he could finally apologize.

Diluc

I honestly believe he just does not want a relationship. Not now anyway, not when hes 20+ years old. So the thought of him forming a crrush on you or any sort of real romantic attachment would also be pretty slim. He’d be your friend, sure, your best friend even, but when it comes to being your boyfriend? It wouldn’t be what you think it is.

If he does form a relationship with you its because you confessed, and you asked him whether or not he was willing to give it a go, and considering you already know each other so well he didn't really see a reason why not. Though it wasn't out of love that he’d agree.

I do believe that he’d still be a gentleman, he would send you flowers, and he would take you on walks, he would also give you gifts, but all of those were just out of courtesy. He was taught to behave like a gentleman, and so he would.

He would never be available, always working, always busy, never in a good mood. “Don't bother me, I'm busy.” He’d coldly order. And if you tried to do something nice to him like cook him a meal whilst he’s working he’d just tell you not to bother, the butler can make it better than you so why even try.

You would be a hitch in his schedule, an added task every day, another time consuming detail he had to take into consideration. But considering he was the one who agreed to the whole idea, he would simply have to deal with it.

As for intimacy, it would be rare. He’d kiss you just because he was curious how it would feel, he’d fuck you just because you asked him to, and sure he might have enjoyed it, you even said you enjoyed it, but it wouldn't become a regular thing between you two. He would come home exhausted, sore and half asleep, so on most days you can expect him to share simple words of greeting before he falls asleep.

If you got tired of it he would just let you go, both of you could see it wasn't working, so why bother try to fix it. You deserve better than him, a man that would love and cherish you, but right now, he simply cannot.

Those are your parting words, he wishes you luck and thanks you for your patience, whether or not you remain friends after that is really up to you.

Happy Ending?

What Diluc needs more than anyone else is time

Time to really heal

Time to forgive himself

Time to start loving the world again.

And I believe he would learn to do those things if time was given.

He would one day realize that his heart yearned for something other than day to day work, something that you tried to show him long ago.

He would fall in love eventually, perhaps not with you, but he would finally open his heart.

He would love earnestly and faithfully till the end of his days.

Kaeya

He’s well known as a flirt in Mondstat, he’s slept with people around town and chances are that’s how he first met you. Whether you slept with him or rejected him didn’t matter, what he was after was your looks after all.

He’d seduce you with praise and compliments, he’d lavish you with gifts and roses, as long as you give him something in return that is.

If you didn’t it wouldn’t really bother him much, he’d simply abandon the thought of you and turn his eyes on another pretty face, if you ever ask him about why he suddenly stopped he’d respond with “I don’t like wasting my time sweetheart.”

However if you give in to his seductions I believe he would eventually start enveloping the idea about being your boyfriend, the idea of you being his and him being yours was tempting for sure. It would take a while but he would also stop flirting so shamelessly with other people, he no longer saw a reason for it now that you were his after all.

But he would never truly yield his heart to you, always keeping secrets, always masking his emotions with sly words. I don’t think he’d ever really open up about his past or about the depths of his mind. But he would love you, and he would protect you, he would cherish you the only way he knew how, by keeping you in the dark, lest you regret your decision in loving him.

Happy ending?

His habits would change as he grows older

They would truly shift when he sees his first child in your arms.

He would cry, not even knowing why

He would fall so helplessly in love with the thought of a happy future and he would be terrified by it

But if you stay by his side, if you make him believe he can have a happy life and a future with you

He would give you the world, if only you make him believe those words.

Childe

Honestly the worst out of all of them.

Now, I firmly believe that he also would not pursue a romantic relationship if given a choice, but his heart is fickle and easily swayed by his own emotions, so when he sees you pop up every now and again he’d undoubtedly would act on his feelings.

He’d charm you, wine and dine you and treat you like a princess if you so wished. He would make sure you had everything you had ever wanted, he’d make promises of love and marriage, but after he gets what he wants, he would leave you.

Just like that, without a word, without a note, nothing. So when you see him after months of confusion, guilt and regret you would ask him why he had left, and all he would say is “What else did you expect?” He’s a Fatui after all, and he has no time for thoughts of tomorrow or promises for the future. His eyes would hold no warmth as he noted that the interaction was rather fair in his eyes, he had treated you like a princess after all.

He has no time to think of anyone else but his family and his duty to Tsaritsa, you were just a toy he liked playing with for a while till you got boring, now move before he breaks you.

Happy Ending?

Now I truly believe that there is someone out there for everyone

Even for someone like Childe

But that someone would have to be exceptional - someone with a commanding sense of self respect, someone with purpose and belief, someone with a fate of their own.

They wouldn't have to be a fighter or even an adventurer, but they would have to be a force of their own to be able to show Childe what kind of life he was truly living.

He knew he was in hell, but meeting someone like that would make it all the more apparent

But if they reached out their hand to him, if they gave him a chance.

He believed he would see a world in colors he never knew existed.

And he would love truly and openly, he would shed his heart to them and only them.

[help-i-need-a-cool-username]

Been thinking about what Mordred's life in Camelot would've been like if Merlin didn't hate him and then thought about how if Morgana was around she would probably always give him her favor at every tournament (until he married) and the other knights would tease him for that so have a broad outline for a Beloved Characters Dont Turn Evil AU

Morgana discovers her magic and Merlin swears to her that he'll protect her. He comforts her when she's scared and Merlin begs Gaius to share his knowledge and suspicions about Morgana to Morgana herself. One night Morgana bursts into their quarters in hysterics, waking them up, screaming and sobbing, and it feels like Merlin's hug is the only thing holding her together but its not enough. Glass starts shattering, candles flare, chandeliers fall to the ground. Gaius decides at this point not telling her will do considerable more harm than not, to both herself and others. They stay up through the night. Gaius speaking and Morgana asking questions, Merlin with a supportive hand on Morgana's shoulder. At one point Morgana tearfully asks the question Merlin asked Gaius long ago, "am i a monster?". They all fall asleep at the table, and that morning when Gwen arrives to wake Morgana only to find her absent with her blankets thrown over the bed and several things knocked over she runs and alerts the guards. The guards initiate lockdown and the commotion reaches Uther and wakes Arthur (Merlin is once again late), and they proceed to fear she was kidnapped right under their noses without anyone knowing. Arthur runs down to get Merlin so he can prepare him for the day only to open the door to find the three of them asleep on the table.

Later Merlin organizes for Morgana to learn more than Gaius can tell her from the Druids, but she intends to stay the night at least, if not then significantly longer (anywhere from a week to several months), and they have no good excuse for her to use that would allow her to leave without Gwen and guards. They come up with some very convoluted plan, which does not end up in the raid that occurred in canon, and when Gwen catches her sneaking back she lies and says she wanted to check up on Mordred (who she did run into), to see if he was with the Druid encampment that was rumored to be nearby (which he was). She didn't learn nearly as much as she hoped in those few hours, but they at least pointed her in a direction.

Morgause comes to town, and leaves Morgana her bracelet. After discovering it stops her visions Morgana takes it to Gaius, who reveals it was enchanted and looks similar to the one Lady Vivienne used to wear. Morgana states Morgause got it from her mother, but that Lady Vivienne was Morgana's mother and wonders how the bracelet ever got to Morgause. Gaius says there was a rumor that Lady Vivienne had a baby that displayed a affinity for magic, but Gorlois told Uther their baby had died before they even named her. Gaius reveals that the baby was smuggled out of Camelot and given to the High Priestesses, and Morgause might very well be that baby. Morgana begins to long for a connection with Morgause, to meet the sister she never knew of and recover something of her dead parents. When she begins secretly meeting Morgause, she tells Merlin and then asks him to come with her when she begins receiving lessons from her. Morgause tries to convince them that killing Uther is the right thing to do, but Merlin keeps reassuring Morgana that all they need to do is convince Arthur to change the law for when he is king, and he's not ready to do that now so theres no use in killing Uther before he's ready, and that she does love Uther and Uther does love her and would try to "fix" her well before he ordered her death. Morgause still wants him dead, to rush the prophecy of magic's return. Them sneaking out every few nights cements the idea that Morgana and Merlin are secretly dating in castle gossip.

Im not sure what happens with Morgause, but i think she would still take Camelot at some point and she would spare Morgana and by extension Merlin. Morgana and Merlin make sure to get Arthur out (and Merlin probably goes with him) because they dont trust Morgause to not kill him. Morgause reveals her heritage (and makes Morgana a Princess and her Heir) despite claiming the throne for people of magic and not the House of Gorlois, and the knowledge that Vivienne and one of her daughters were sorceresses leads Uther to believe he can not save Morgana from magic that is likely in her blood and THAT is what breaks his mental state. Morgana's real heritage is revealed soon after, with Uther informing Gaius that Morgana being a Princess is actually within her birth rights. Morgause continues Morgana's training because at some point Morgana has to become a High Priestess because canon. That or Morgause switches sides (this is a Beloved Characters Dont Go Evil AU might as well make it No Beloved Characters Are Evil AU) and she trains Morgana later after Arthur is a established King.

Morgause is overthrown and the Round Table formed. Arthur as well as several people in the castle know of or suspect Morgana of being a sorceress but he refuses to banish her, first believing it to have been out of her control (forced by Morgause) and later learning that her nightmares had been magic all along (how could he punish her for something he knows she had tried to get rid of for over a decade?). Perhaps he lets her keep the title of Princess, having always seen her as a sister (and someone who is compassionate for the people in a way royalty should be) and armed with the new knowledge of her being his actual sister. Everyone expects Regent Arthur to crack down on magic, its what Uther would have done and what the people want, so he does. Morgana becomes a advocate for magic, as she had been for Arthur in private as a Prince, and it scares people in the castle. They believe her to be working with Morgause, despite her arguments being for individuals' wellbeing and how punishments fuels hatred for Camelot. Several attempts are made on her life, many stopped by Merlin and Gwen and sometimes Lancelot. Arthur often "asks" Merlin for his opinion on magic and with Morgana's voice being public he feels okay with being straight with Arthur on what he thinks. Uther dies same as he did in canon: protecting Arthur from a assassination.

Mordred becomes a Knight because canon. Morgana is ecstatic to see him again and acts like a mother who hasn't seen her child in ages when she first sees him. Merlin has learned you often make the enemies that are destined to kill you (ex. trying to stop Morgana's visions from coming true) so he ignores Kilgharrah and doesn't hate Mordred (he is always wary though). Mordred alternates between childlike eagerness around the knights and following Merlin around while hero worshiping him (no one can figure out why. Their best guess is that Morgana is a mutual friend). In the beginning he kept messing up his name (calling him "Merlin" is just weird) and they often talk in their heads and therefore just stare at each other which has led to two conflicting rumors: theyre in love or they hate each other. Morgana often invites him to dinner, and when they dine with Arthur they easily slip into mind-talking (because chewing) and Arthur is convinced that they're making fun of him every time they do it. He protects Arthur when Merlin can't, often runs off to do side quests Merlin needs to do but cant get away to do, and often tags along with Merlin on his quests. Being able to share the knowledge of his destiny since Lancelot died (if he dies in this AU) relaxes Merlin's caution and allows him to be emotionally closer to him. Mordred enjoys being around Merlin and Morgana not just because he's Emrys and she's Morgana, but because they are the closest thing to home he has: they know what he is, they understand (bits) of his culture and make it possible for Mordred to share it with them, their individual magic sings strong enough to remind him of when he lived surrounded by it. He quickly grows to love them so very much and no one understands WHY. The knights tease him about it, and Morgana forcing Arthur to take Mordred on certain missions he isnt qualified for "so he can learn" does not help. Gwaine and Percival were planning to convince him that he couldnt compete in a tournament without a lady's favor because he's the rookie and his panicked look greatly amuses them only to find Morgana giving him her's before kissing his cheek. They were relentless after that, alternating between "lady's favors dont count if they're from your mom," "Mordred has a girlfriend," and whatever the medieval version of affectionately calling him "Bambi" is. Morgana sits in the stand's throne (since Arthur is competing) or besides it if Gwen is queen, and she flashes a smile at him when he comes out (Gwen too. He's a sweet kid with a baby face, of course he's one of her favorites. He also reminds her of Merlin when she first met him: kind, awkward, cute). This settles Mordred's nerves but has the unfortunate side effect of increased teasing. Merlin doesn't let it go to far, he never does, and gives them a distraction before running back to Arthur.

And then magic is brought back to the land and Morgana continues the work of the High Priestesses and helps the rebuilding efforts and they're still adventures and problems, but everyone Lives Happily Ever After

[fl0ating-tree]

a look at c!wilbur in relation to ‘eight’ by sleeping at last

wilbur saying on stream that ‘eight’ by sleeping at last was inspiration for his character is just...heartbreaking. god wilbur soot youve done it again. (fyi this post is all /rp so i dont have to put c! in front of wilburs name every time)

“I was just a kid who grew up strong enough / To pick this armor up / And suddenly it fit”  this in relation to wilbur hurts like nothing else. if everyones willing to take tommy and tubbos age into consideration for their characters can we talk about how wilbur was 23 during the fight for l’manberg. twenty three. he was so young and put that aside to fight for his freedom. he grew up to fast to put on a brave face for fundy (whos age in canon is a little questionable but is still at the very least younger than wibur) and tubbo and tommy and even eret to an extent. 

“Now you won't see all that I have to lose / And all I've lost in the fight to protect it”  wilburs character is very interesting in the fact that he seems to have a genuine kind of backstory. we all take the piss out of sally but if you think about it, the story of sally means that somewhere along the lines wilbur met a girl, fell in love, and lost her. he canonically smokes and drinks (even before pogtopia if i remember correctly) and was well versed in drugs. that implies so much, especially with this line. wilbur has lost a lot, and hes jaded because of it, which leads into:

“I won't let you in, I swore never again / I can't afford, no, I refuse to be rejected” wilbur can’t loose, not again. he lost sally, he presumably had a failing relationship with his father because of the offhand remarks phil and wilbur have made along with the fact that phil was never mentioned until he showed up (obviously OOC this is because phil wasnt on the server but i digress). he can’t loose l’manberg, not after loosing sally, erets betrayal, and loosing one of his lives along with his comrades lives. he can’t. 

“I want to break them right and feel alive / You were wrong, you were wrong, you were wrong / My healing needed more than time” wilbur canonically struggles with substance abuse and mental illness. that first line almost feels self-harmful in a sense, breaking yourself to feel alive. he is deeply wounded and the peacetime after they won independence, or the time before war was declared, wasn’t enough to help heal his deep mental and emotional problems. the “you were wrong” line feels almost like a child trying to argue against their parent, which hurts in the context of phil and wilburs canon relationship. 

“I was little, I was weak, I was perfect, too / Now I'm a broken mirror” wilbur’s decent into “villainy” to me was simply wilbur’s mental health taking a turn for the worse. he didn’t believe he could get better so he simply let himself fall into the deep end. sure, he used to be young and weak, but he was perfect then too. now he thinks he is too far gone, so he embraces being angry and evil in an attempt to feel something, to feel like he’s at least playing a role. 

“I can't let you in, I swore never again / I can't afford to let myself be blindsided” this line in relation to eret’s betrayal and wilbur’s paranoia is another stinger. first betrayed by eret, than by quackity (most people don’t remember this but wilbur confided his election plan to quackity and quackity betrayed him by using this knowledge to sneak in his ballot), than he believed fundy betrayed him, and his spiraling mental health slowly lead him to think everyone asides from maybe tommy was against him. he refused to get help, to let others in, because he couldn’t face betrayal again.    

“And all I want is to trust you / Show me how to lay my sword down / For long enough to let you through”  wilbur was hurt and betrayed and traumatized and had no support system to keep him afloat. he wanted so badly to trust others but in his paranoia he couldn’t put down his sword long enough to let others, like niki tommy tubbo and even quackity, help him. 

“I'm just a kid who grew up scared enough / To hold the door shut / And bury my innocence” similar to the first lines of this song, wilbur is incredibly young to be a general in a war and a president. he buried his innocence in order to survive but ultimately it made him cynical and that coupled with loss and betrayal ruined him. 

the song ends on a happy note, with the lines “I'm shattered porcelain, glued back together again / Invincible like I've never been” but wilbur’s story sadly doesn’t get a happy ending. wilbur’s character, ultimately, is a tragedy. he was a war-torn man with mental health issues driven to the brink and no one was able to pull him back. the juxtaposition of this last line compared to wilbur’s ending is incredibly poetic, and whether that was purposeful on CC!wilbur’s part, or simply coincidental, is still amazing. i never saw wilbur as the villain, simply a deeply hurt person, and i feel like this song really highlights that. 

[motionbound]

hiyo!! it’s melo again with a second muse, sad human dude seong uihyeon who’s been going thru it since the festival 😭 he moved recently from jeju to work with the aeternals as a therapist, only to lose his wife during the festival to a berserk aeternal. he’s always idolised eden’s aeternals as true superheroes but their response after the festival has totally cracked his worldview & he’s still grieving so 😔 pages here ( stats, bio ), tldr & plot ideas under the cut! hit the ♡ if you’d wanna plot, this is a sideblog so i can’t follow/etc but u can call me beep me at @iinksplit​ or ask for discord!

*tw death mention—much of his backstory is tied to his wife’s death & the impact it has on him, so this is a general warning for the tldr & plots under the cut!

TLDR

just a dude from jeju; he grew up reading lots of comics & generally believing in the good of people, the world, the superheroes out there!

he’s always wanted to come to eden to work with the aeternals, despite being a human. one of those 'i dont have a superpower but i can help the ones who do!! so they can help more people!!’ kinda people, so he went into counselling and found himself a job with the aeternal psych unit once he graduated

uihyeon had it all: working with the aeternals to help people, married the girl of his dreams, started building a life in eden & all that

at least, until pax centennial festival

his wife died during the event, one of the many? few? casualties while the aeternals were going berserk with their powers. in my head it was probably something pretty instant & irreversible, and he’s entirely traumatised from witnessing it

the aeternal who killed his wife simply slapped an nda down & sent him off with a whole lotta money in exchange for his silence. it’s confusion & uncertainty & a considerable amount of pressure placed on him to sign that’s the reason he agrees to it, but now that the dust has settled, he’s starting to question... everything, really

so now he’s struggling to reconcile what he believed about the world, his trust in aeternals & the good of people shaken up totally. it’s starting to affect his job too, questioning what he’s told in his sessions with aeternal clients & having to pull himself back from it, because he still wants to do good somehow & he used to think this was the path for him but—is it?

huge chara insp is hughie from the boys w a tinge of butcher!

personality / misc facts: aquarius sun, cancer moon, capricorn rising. before the festival, he was honestly a really friendly, chill dude. helpful & accommodating, with a whole lotta idealism packed underneath his sensible sweater vest. prone to withdrawing & bottling things up, which has only become worse since his wife’s death. right now, he’s very much in the anger/depression stages of grief, sharper around the edges. easily frustrated, mostly at himself, but also at the world in general. grasping at what used to be familiar instead of processing the feelings like he knows he should, & not coping well at all

lil notes on his wife! in my head they were childhood friends & he had a crush on her for forever, finally got the courage to ask her out way too late when they were already basically in love & they fast-tracked their way through dating & marriage after that hehe she had a similar sort of occupation, wanting to help people too? a lil more practical than him, the half who had all her shit together. i’m so sorry for fridging her rip she’s gna pop up occasionally in his thoughts but more a manifestation of his grief than a real representation of her!

PLOTS

the aeternal who killed his wife—lots of plotting needed for this but i’d love to have this connection

the boys / anti-aeternals agenda—part of his ( non- ) healing has been thinking about taking revenge on the aeternals & he entertains thoughts of actually seeking help, until. he actually does contact them & now he’s not sure what to do

siblings—i don’t see him as an only child, though he was quite an independent kid. as his now only family in the city, though, i think he’d rely a lot on his sibling

good friends—someone who knows just how badly he’s doing & checks up on him once in a while / is trying to help him process this healthily, even tho he’s fighting accepting their help

aeternal clients—i imagine it’s a small-ish psych unit, so he’s familiar with a lot of the aeternals, even if he doesn’t work directly with them! might even just see a couple as work buddies instead of clients? although their interactions now are tense & often angrier than they’re used to him being...

meta friends—he believes ( believed? ) really strongly that meta abilities have a purpose. that they can do good. he’s not sure about that anymore, but someone he used to help out / attempt to learn more about their ability to help them?

people who knew his wife—maybe they knew her better than him, or vice versa? super open to different kinds of dynamics stemming from this! or maybe even a sibling-in-law?

[mcytbdamofficial]

hi! i’ve recently been thinking a lot about the smplive arc in bdam… and i wanted to ask what you think the “training program”-like thing was for the lunch club? as in how do you think they were selected and mentored through the years?

oh wow thank u for the question!! theres no real definite answer, but here's something i kind of rolled with for the story (below the cut for anyone who doesn't want it to clog up their dash!)

sorry ahead of time this got so long!!

this is actually something that sort of gets touched on it the captain's journals - where how ted was “educated” for the role is brought up and explored, although his case differed from the others

(this is all what you learn from the journals)

when the first lunch club was created, it was a way from the various businessmen of smplive to take back power from the nivison family, who were at the time sort of local overlords as far as control went. by putting their businesses and resources together and naming themselves the government, they would seize power again and undermine the total control the nivisons had. these business owners were karacorvus, voiceoverpete, sky, fitmc, and antvenom, meanwhile captainsparklez (a personal friend of kara’s, didnt own any businesses in the city though) was taken in to oversee research and progress

at the time, of course, the lunch club couldnt be transparent about their goal being taking power from the nivisons, since they would fight back. the nivisons, seeing the growing power of the group, suggested one of their own was trained to take over in a possible second generation of the lunch club, not knowing theyd be long wiped out from the city by then. they put forward ted, and said when hes older (he was 3 at the time, and the only son of the current heads of the family), he should begin an apprenticeship with the captain

this ended up happening, and without spoiling too much of the spin-off, over the years ted learned from the captain and grew up around him, learning what he’d have to do in his new position. he was a special case from the others since he was picked first and started his studies very early - as well as having a far more relaxed relationship with his mentor (they were more like good friends than a teacher and student!)

that relationship... went sour, after some time. but you’d have to read the spin off to find out, so i’m just gonna drop this here....

(and the following stuff is never written down anywhere, it’s more something i kept in the back of my mind while writing the characters!)

following ted as a sort of basis for this, the rest of the lunch club all picked out an apprentice. they spoke with other influential business owners in the cities and asked around for anyone interested for their child being in the future second generation - most started their training as young as 10! travis was the youngest of the group, but i dont have an exact age for him. every member of the old lunch club picked out one person, and same as the captain, kept them around and let them work with them, spend time with them, and learn from them. theyd spend full work days with their respective mentors - and they wouldnt interact much with anyone else their age but each other, whenever their mentors happened to work together

this definitely affected them as kids! they didnt have much time for themselves and were sort of told they were special, important, etc... they turned out really spoiled, and acted out a lot as kids. some of them grew out of it, but a few definitely didnt. most of the old lunch club members, also, werent as kind and considerate as the captain was towards ted - their training came down to them learning what they needed to learn, and doing so to perfection. no other choices, in their situation

i dont specifically have a headcanon for who picked who, but i like to think that kara picked out charlie. she would be another one of the really nice ones, which is why he turned out a good kid anyway. the reason ted didnt, even with the captain teaching him, well... again, lookie here

so in summary - all of the second gen kids came from rich, influential families, were raised with most of their childhoods being training, studying, and working, and generally... it sorta messed them up. but some of them turned out good, anyway! ...not all of them

sorry this answer was SO long.... i hope it was what you were looking for, anyway! if more of the bdam!smplive content interests you, id definitely recommend the spin-off! it gives an alternate perspective of everything and really humanises a lot of the characters - especially ted.

thank you again for the ask!! i really had a good time answering :)) pls dont be shy to ask about lore and stuff guys, im always happy to answer! :D

[coldmorte]

So i have some unpopular opinions; i feel like Dutch doesnt sleep around as much as people would like to think. He probably likes the fact that people think that of him, even if its not his style. Also...i dont think Dutch and Molly have any chemistry.

Howdy! (ASK 1 OF 2)

I apologize it took me some time to actually reply to this, especially because it is such a great ask! I definitely agree with both points made here, but I was debating how I wanted to write a response (and how far to take it).

Anyway, I'm open to hearing unpopular opinions! I know I have plenty of my own, so I'm not really one to judge others (as long as there is mutual respect) ☺️

My response is fairly long, and it deals with some sensitive topics. I decided to add a cut to this first ask, just to be safe! 💜💜💜

(Warning: SPOILERS below)

In regard to Dutch sleeping around, there are a few reasons why I don’t think he does it as much as it is often implied/assumed (I’m primarily limiting this to the timeframe of RDR2, Ch. 1-6).

First of all, Molly explicitly says Dutch doesn’t show her a lot of physical attention, even though he is her SO. If he’s not sleeping with her much, I doubt that he is going around with any other women at this time. He seldom leaves camp, outside of doing missions, so it is unlikely that he would meet up with anybody not in the gang. It just doesn’t seem plausible to me, as it would put him in a vulnerable position.

Dutch complains multiple times - including to Molly - that he is under stress and concerned about the Pinkertons closing in on them. Why would he go around outside the camp sleeping with random women? It would put him at the risk of being seen or reported on, and I believe he is smarter than to take on the unnecessary danger. Generally, he doesn’t spend much time in civilized areas, unless he needs to.

Not to mention, stress can be a real inhibitor of sex drive. For the entirety of the game, Dutch exhibits various degrees of anxiety and depression. I believe the gang and his personal safety were of much more concern to him, thus diminishing his interest in sex.

Speaking of the gang, I don’t personally see Dutch as sleeping around with the women in it that much. He did have a relationship with Susan in the past. Whether anything was still going on between them or not is uncertain, but if there was something, it probably was not serious or very frequent. In RDR1, he also suggests that he slept with Abigail, but if this happened, I doubt it would have occurred during the events of RDR2. They hardly ever interacted, and when Abigail did talk about Dutch, it was almost always in a negative manner. Dutch also showed some interest in Mary-Beth. However, I don’t think it went beyond flirting. She didn’t show much interest in him, and I think word would have gotten around if he tried to force anything, especially to Arthur (I am not going to discuss the events of RDR1 in any more detail here because that is a whole different conversation). But other than them, who else in the gang? There were not enough interactions with other women to suggest there was anything between them and Dutch.

Also, sex was considerably more risky in 1899 than it is today, and the means of contraception were not as dependable. For instance, The Pill didn’t go onto the market for another 60 years, and it was more difficult to get ahold of other birth control methods. This was partly because there were not as many technological advancements in this field and because there were a few laws that prevented reliable access to contraceptives (ex: The Comstock Laws). Condoms were arguably one of the easier birth control methods to find, but they still were not as widely available then as they are today (the quality was arguably not as good either). As I understand it, some searching was generally required to get ahold of condoms (usually in more civilized areas, which Dutch tried to avoid).

Dutch is a very contradictory character. My point in bringing up birth control is because although on some level I think Dutch probably would have liked to have actual children, I do not think he was serious enough about it to take any risks that might have led to an unwanted pregnancy during the timeframe of RDR2. As I mentioned, he was under a lot of stress with the gang. A biological child on top of that most likely would have overwhelmed him, and it would have required a long-term commitment to not only the child, but to the mother as well. I believe Dutch was smart enough to recognize this danger, and since birth control methods were not as widely available or reliable, he would not have wanted to sleep around too much (unwanted pregnancies were relatively common during this era).

I’ve written in the past that I believe Dutch had a certain degree of self-consciousness underneath his pride, so I do agree that he probably would have liked people finding him attractive or seductive. These traits emanate a sense of power and confidence, which would have provided a more favorable presentation of himself to others. These perceptions certainly would have helped to conceal his own self-doubts and insecurities, so he would have welcomed them, rather than try to refute them.

Now, in regard to the chemistry between Dutch and Molly, I agree. I think it was a pretty bad relationship all around. I don’t see its flaws as being entirely one-sided.

I will get into this a little more on the next ask, but I will discuss a few things here first.

Starting with Dutch, I will admit that he could have treated Molly a lot better. Even if he wasn’t happy with her or the status of their relationship, he should have seriously talked to her more. She deserved that, at the very minimum. There were a few instances where she tried to get his attention, and he just brushed her off. Again, like I said, even if he wasn’t very keen on the relationship anymore, he should have at least been honest about that. Then, as I already discussed, he had some mildly flirtatious conversations with Mary-Beth. I certainly do not think this helped matters. It was rude the way he insulted Molly for bringing up his interactions with Mary-Beth and how he pretended he had no idea what Molly was talking about.

Onto Molly, I don’t think she was perfect either. I know Dutch didn’t talk with her nearly as much as he should have, but she didn’t seem to show a whole lot of support for him in return. Dutch expressed that he was feeling stressed and not up to much physical activity, to which she got quite upset. She seemed to turn some arguments towards herself and her needs, with little regard for Dutch’s wellbeing. I do think she was selfish for demanding him to give her something he did not want to give/could not provide. Also, she refused to help the gang find leads or assist with chores, even when told to do so by others (ex: Dutch and Arthur). She tended to act above everybody else, claiming she wasn’t a servant to the needs of the gang as a whole. Though I can respect her sense of independence in that regard, it did show a sense of entitlement. Even Dutch donated to the gang funds, and as the leader, he was the one responsible for overseeing the vast majority of missions they engaged in. Molly was the only person who really did not contribute much. (Side note: Even UNCLE - the laziest bastard in the West - helped with leads and contributions!!)

I will get into this more in the following ask, but although I know she loved Dutch to an extent, I think part of her fascination with him was rooted in infatuation. Little is known about her background, but it is canon that she came from a wealthy and influential family in Ireland. I think part of the reason why she liked Dutch so much was because of the powerful position he held. She frequently lashed out at people who she perceived as challenging the reality of her “love” for him, such as Abigail and Karen. In one instance, Molly even went so far as to slap Karen across the face because she thought Karen was talking negatively about her. There was no evidence to prove or disprove Molly’s beliefs, but it did show that she was pretty sensitive about criticism (whether it was perceived or real) in regard to her relationship with Dutch.

Now, Dutch was wrong to use Molly’s fascination with him and his role in the gang to seduce her. But like I said, both of them had their issues. It was just a bad situation from both sides, and I do not think it should have happened in the first place. I don’t necessarily blame one more than the other. To be honest, I think they each deserved someone who fit them better.

And if I am being even MORE honest, I think Dutch should have stayed with Susan. She loved him, and he made a big mistake in ever giving her up. I believe the events of RDR2 would have turned out very differently, had he kept her closer.

(Ending note: Outside of serious posts - like this one - I know I make quite a few jokes about Dutch on my blog in regard to sexuality, but I do not mean for much of what I say in that regard to be taken *too* seriously. I don’t particularly want to discuss my personal life in the text of this post, but I will say that even if Dutch was a person I knew in real life, I’m not sure I would seriously want anything to happen between us. However, that is another matter entirely that has nothing whatsoever to do with him. I absolutely LOVE his character to death, and my blog will remain dedicated to his role in the RDR story for as long as I am around! That is all that should matter!!!)

Also, it is perfectly fine and normal to separate fiction from reality! It is okay to alter interpretations of Dutch (and/or Molly) for the sake of artistic expression, as long as the reasons can be justified. Furthermore, it is fine to disagree with me!!

I just hope this response gave you a thing or two to consider. Thank you again for sending your message in!! 💜💜💜

[chronicalchaos]

Do you have any information on the re village au/crossover thing? I like the idea and would like to hear more if you have anything on it and you don't have to answer, this was something I had to ask before I forgot it.

Yes, i have informations on the Wick/RE Village crossover!

Sam, Travis and Duncan are the main characters, each have their own habilities that will help them survive on the village. Well, Sam and Duncan will be the ones who will try to survive for...about half of their journey through the supposed story

Sam's hability is that he's fast, on both physical and mental, he's the one running around and keeping the "lords" busy, as Duncan needs cover so both can escape alive, he can solve puzzles, but takes twice the time to even understand them

Duncan's hability is that he can solve puzzles quickly and create good strategies, he's the one solving the puzzles that helps them escape, he doesn't have trouble running, but he can't think straight when in fear/panic

Travis "hability" is that he's really lucky, he finds hiding spots with pure luck, he doesn't have much stamina

Sam's "Friends" die at the start of the story, i dont really want to include them

About the "lords", the Weaver kids will be more physically similar to their alive selves and won't be killed by the trio, as they join side with them later in the story, I'll explain them in the order i imagined they would be "faced"

Lillian is the same age as the trio, she will hunt them through the Weaver's house, where Sam and Duncan will escape from, her area, being the first the player(s) would be hunted at, it's very simple! A two-story house where you would meet the lords for the first time. Her strategy is using her power (I kept the mold thing) to, from time to time, talk through the main characters' head trying to startle them and using that to find them, your way to avoid her is simply hiding and being ready for this "little talks" she does through your mind.

Caleb is 19 years old, he will hunt them through the little forest inside the Weaver's property. Now, Caleb would be a bit hard, since his mutation increased his speed and he is already fast without the mutation, he would simply run after you, having the advantage that he knows that forest better than you do, but avoiding him is rather simple...if you are at least a bit agile, as Caleb takes a bit too much time climbing over walls or will just trip on a exposed root, so going through a bit rougher path will slow him considerably.

Now, Benny...I thought of putting him in the church, but...i think it would be better if they find him in the village itself, maybe make him an ally from the start, kinda like you did on the little wick AU, since he is the one trying to keep this family together, he's the one stopping Lillian's and Caleb's fights, making sure they get in good terms, he's also the one taking care of Tim, reminding his brother he can trust him and if he needs any help he's there...I'm not really sure on what Benny would do on the first half of the story.

Tim is 23 years old, he will hunt the trio on a graveyard, he's area is divide in 2 parts, the first one, he's not really agressive, he would even have a small talk with Duncan and Sam at the start, something they would discover later, Tim acts as if he's superior to the others, calling the duo "things" at the first encounter with the lords, but he's actually the weakest between his siblings as he didnt get a mutation, he's just a normal human. On the second part, he would be the normal Tim we know, agressive and determined. Instead of a whittling knife he carries a shovel around.

Tom would be 23 years old, he doesn't have an area of his own, he would appear on the second part of the graveyard, he chases the trio by turning into crows and appearing infront of them as they run from Tim, this is a replacement for his teleportation on the game and inspired by the dimitrescu daughters&Mother Miranda, he died from polio when him and Tim were 8 years old, he doesn't look mangled, but his "kid form", aka the age he died as, it's kinda scary in my opinion.

I didn't really work on James and Mary yet, but they would take Mother Miranda's place, being the master minds on the death of the village people, one thing i did stablish was that their goal isn't revive a dead child, they don't want to die, as they have met death in person...Tom is death.

And John died as well, just like he did in the game.

For now that's it, also, sorry that this is long.