#i mean they are also made and raised by an iterator so that could come into play

[flickering-nightfall]

[wandixx]

Ghost of fries and Hero of cookies part 2

All work words count: 14 593

Words in this part: 1 794

Summary of whole work: Duke wasn't expecting to wake up from his quick rooftop nap to some meta kid with fries. He also wasn't expecting kid to stay Or Danny asked Dani to stay safe while she was in Gotham. Where would she be safer than under the wing of local hero? And he looked like he needed bad day combo anyway

This part summary: Of new names and teasing

Beta read by @audhumla-sailor though English is second language for both of us, so proceed with this in mind. I also know all of the charaters through fics alone, so probably ooc. Stay catious if it's something you don't like

First part

Duke knew that Dani was in their agreed meeting point, he even vaguely knew where she was floating but not much more. She used her invisibility, which was weird since she knew it didn't work correctly on him. It was fifth time they met, of course they knew. 

"Hey Signal, remember how you said that I need a codename if we're going to hang out in future and that all my previous ideas were horrible names?" a disembodied girly voice asked. Duke smiled. Ever since he raised the idea, the girl would come up with ridiculous names to be called, proposing them with absolutely straight face. It was expected from someone who thought Dani Phantom was a good alias. It didn't make her ideas any less amusing.

"Of course I do. Whatcha got for me today?"

"Alright, since you don't let me be a name stealer, I decided to take a sheet from local nightlife's notebook–"

"You mean take a leaf from their book?" He was sure she was rolling her eyes on him, but it didn't stop him. No one could maim English language like that with him around.

"Whatever. I chose to steal their idea and became a bird. It's only fair since I can actually fly!"

"Can't exactly disagree. So, what did you get this time?"

"You'll like that, I promise. But now, I introduce to you…"

Duke got ready to shut down every Robin iteration and all Birdgirls he could think of.

"HOOPOE!" Dani yelled, popping back to the visible spectrum. She was covered in bright orange cape with weirdly shaped hood and flimsy mask "I even did some costume changes to fit the name better–" in all honesty, one, yeah, he wasn't blind he realized, two, he needed a moment to remember how these birds looked (his first thought was 'wait it's a thing?!'). But then he got it and yeah, those were funny little creatures, just like Dani. It fitted her "–so even if you don't like it, it doesn't matter," she added, sticking her tongue out.

Duke patted her on the head. He was there, he knew it mattered.

"It's a great name Hoopoe"

Dani visibly though probably unconsciously, relaxed. Her mouth curved into a proud grin and her aura brightened. Normal auras didn't do that. He got used to Dani surprising him like that sometimes.

"Of course it's great, I made it."

Duke chose to not remind her about almost two dozen times she came up with absolutely not great names or about the fact that technically she didn't quite make this one either. He wasn't in such a petty mood. Maybe in future if he needed blackmail.

Oh, it was such a Bat thing, wasn't it? He needed to spend some more time with his civilian to get it out of himself, he liked his ability to interact with normal people in a healthy way. 

*

"Wait, is your mask a paper?"

"What else could it be, titanium?"

"If you stop three muggings on the next three patrols each I'll get you a better one, okay?"

"Hey, my mask is perfectly fine"

"Yeah, but it can tear too easily. I can get you a mask that is more sturdy."

"Aha."

"It's the same material every Robin and Nightwing wear…"

"Don't care, my mask is flawless"

"..."

"Okay, better mask would be cool"

***

On the third patrol Dani joined, about a week and a half ago, they exchanged numbers. Duke knew how hard it was to come to terms with new powers on one's own and God strike him with a lightning or something if he ever lets anyone go through similar bullshit. Especially since she didn't seem to have anyone taking care of her. Girl her age shouldn't be able to hang out or respond to messages within ten minutes at any given time. Only twice she didn't do that, because she was on a celebrity hunt for autographs as she later explained. He would be teased endlessly if any Wayne or their associate learned about it, but he considered introducing Dani to Bruce. She needed help, okay?! He didn't inherit adoption tendencies.

But he hadn't done that, partially because he didn't want to scare Dani off and partially because of fear of teasing. And bet. Because of course in the meantime somehow there happened a bet. 

He smirked at the video Dani sent as a response to the hydration check. She was tossing a coin and playing an elimination game to pick one juice from eight drinks she had. Steph jumped over the back of the couch to join him. At the start she was in front of him so to do that she had to run around the furniture but such minor inconveniences couldn't even wish to stop her dramatics.

"You're smiling at your phone ergo you either text your secret girlfriend/boyfriend/enbyfriend or watch memes. Show me the memes," she demanded, nudging him in the arm. Duke chuckled.

"Wrong guess. I'm texting my sidekick," they agreed it would be a funny way to introduce Dani to people who asked. Duke tried his best at this whole having sidekick thing anyway. As well as he could without help from other Bats because of this damn bet.

Steph froze for a moment.

"Your what–"

"And the lucky winner is… an apple with mint juice! Damn I really hoped it would be lemonade,"  Dani from the video announced cheerfully before opening the bottle" Shame it didn't make it past semi-finals. Happy hydration break. I'm going on an autograph hunt so I may not respond for the next two hours or so. Wish me luck, bye~"

Duke paused the video before it replayed. He glanced at Steph who finally rebooted.

"How come you got a kid and I learned about it just now?"

“In my defense I'm like 60% sure you're the second person in the family to learn about her. Depends if Tim got his ‘I have to know everything, gotta check body cams’ paranoid spree in the last two weeks or not. There was no teasing from Babs or anyone else if I'm being honest and no lecture from B, so they have no idea.”

“First was Alfred?”

“First was Alfred. I still don't know how.”

“That's our grandtler for you. You are forgiven but you have to tell me everything about her,” Steph demanded excitedly. “And show me the photos''

Duke snorted.

“She goes by Hoopoe and is about Damian's age. She can tell you her real name when B inevitably finds out and tries to interrogate her.”

“What if Spoiler drops by during the day?”

“You can try but give it another week and a day, okay?”

“Why?”

“We have bet that I'll hide her from B for three weeks. Tomorrow is the end of the second week. We both know how he is, he'll have questions if you randomly show up during the day."

"Stakes?"

"Speedster worth of winners favorite Batburger meal, 2 quarts of chosen drink and cookies"

"Valid. I ain't snitch, but I want to know more. Is she a meta?”

"Yeah. Powers I know of are invisibility, intangibility, superspeed, enhanced hearing and flight. Probably more. I think she already had some training with it because she has quite amazing control over this stuff. Like, it comes naturally to her. But her hand to hand is atrocious."

"Are you jealous?"

"No."

"Omg, you totally are! Don't be, she is just a baby with a better idea of what's going on with her powers than you have with yours. There is nothing to be mad about Duke, it's okay Duke–"

"Keep going and I won't tell you anything about her," he dared, trying not to snort. 

"Sorry, sorry, you're doing great, please continue," she nudged his arm again "Don't be such softie, dude" He stared at her at the comment, disbelief clear on his face. Steph at least then looked a little ashamed "Okay, sorry. You're honestly doing far better than any of us would. Excluding Cass and Alfred."

"Excluding Cass and Alfred," he agreed easily enough.

"So, you think your kid has some training with her powers," she recalled eagerly.

"Yeah, probably from when she was helping her cousin. He is a hero in Amity Park, Illinois, his name is Phantom. It took very little digging even though Hoopoe does her best to stay mysterious. I swear this kid has no brain-mouth filter. But! I got my second shovel talk from her cousin!”

“The what?”

“After a week of hanging out with her, I got message on Signal’s twitter from Phantom that basically read as ‘I have nothing against you, really dude I’m a fan but here is list of my most powerful enemies, and let me tell you, there were some scarily powerful guys there, I won with all of them, if something bad happens to Hoopoe I can and will destroy you.’ After some research, yes, I think he could try and have considerable chance of success. Even if he didn’t fight would be painful enough to be a lesson. He and Hoopoe have the same powers and she worked with him for some time. She most likely learned then. She was called Dani Phantom, boy went by Danny Phantom then”

“Dear gods, their aliases were so horrible, who even let them go with it?! Are those their first names?!” Steph sounded genuinely offended by it.

“I don’t know,” Yeah, he knew, but he preferred to keep at least this secret to himself ”In boy's defense, because Hoopoe came much later,  he was fourteen and Amity went to shit really fast, so alias was probably not his first concern. And it’s much better than Invioso-bill, name he was given by the press. And he uses some intense gaslighting to make people believe it’s just Phantom now. And allegedly they’re both ghosts. Apparently ghosts don’t exactly have secret identity”

“You doubt it”

“You would too. She eats, she breathes and she is tangible by default. From what I know, ghosts don’t do that”

“They don’t, I checked. I went on a research spree when I first learned about Deadman. I just thought it was so cool you know. Ghosts being real and all,” Steph leaned towards him, almost vibrating with anticipation.

“Really?” he asked, knowing what he was getting into.

“Yeah, you see…”

And on she went, releasing expected infodump as if she waited for this opportunity ever since she first read about it.

********

Some additional name getting shenanigans

Signal: I won't call you Dani in the field

Dani: Why?

Signal: Ever heard of secret identity? Name is, like, half of it. Disguise is other half but it can be exchanged with lore. Superman made it work. Just make up enough lore for people to not question it.

Dani: Oh, okay *gremlin^2 mode activated*

Random they just rescued: And who are you little one?

Dani: *looking them dead in the eyes* I am clone of dead child hero, travelling around the world to find identity separated from my template befre mistakes made during my creation make me turn into puddle of primordal liquid and my conciousness fades forever

Random: *petrified* What?

Signal: *internally* I have miscalculated

Dani: Kid Signal

Signal: No.

Dani: It works in Central

Signal: We're not in Central

Dani: Signalgirl

Dani: I mean, Batgirl exists

Signal: No.

Dani: Monochromatic Signal. Y'know, Red Robin route?

Signal: ...

Signal: Just no. Don't make my name part of your name

Next part

Do you want to see some Hoopoe doodles I made? There were redesigns!!!

[quiteliterallyilliterate]

MDNI

So I promise to write the Isekai pt. 2 next, but i had this idea skittering around the back of my brain and I- I just had to. Anyway. This is smut. Kiddos please leave and come back for the next episode.

cw: Completely gender neutral. Sexual content, descriptions of masturbation, oral (m receiving) and lots of praise.

Hope you enjoy~

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

Link was a patient man. In every iteration and every universe, it was something that followed him each time— the ability to wait for the sake of a greater sense.To wait as his muscles burned so he could get the best strike. To redo the same puzzles over and over until the dungeon is complete. To learn every small detail about you, even the ones that are irrelevant to most, for even the chance at you loving him even a fraction of how much he adored you.

Loving you was easy. Partly because you made it so easy to be loved that it felt as if it were something inherent to him, written in his soul. Hyrule has walked the span of worlds and yet it was you who he found to be the most precious. Afterall, even among the exceptionality that was Hylia’s heroes, you were an outlier.

For long he waited, passing the time as you grew accustomed to your surroundings and made your place among the chain. The last thing he wanted was to make you uncomfortable. He would sooner relinquish his magic and bleed his soul into a cold earth than force himself upon you. He may have been raised apart from proper society, but he was no monster of his desire. He is better than that creeping urge beneath his ribs.

But that didn’t change that he could feel it flare when your knuckles brushed his when you’d tag long onto his inevitable wanders. He never found it easy to sit still, but teaming with energy and magic from a full heart meant it was all he could do, to wander. You didn’t need to follow as he went to embrace the world’s soft silence. And yet, wordlessly, you’d offer him your company and follow. You made him wonder, If two arms were not enough to grab a hold on life, perhaps four?

It became familiar to feel his heart lurch as you looked upon him with soft, loving eyes when he healed you. You’d mutter the quietest thanks, just for him to hear. A gift that once marked him as tainted or impure was one that you praised.

The people of his homeland were mean, crooked people. If you weren’t exactly like one of them, you had to be purged. He was shunned by most for his magic. He does not fault them for not trusting what they don’t know, but the bitter cold loneliness got to him more than he’d like to admit. It was many years before he learned to accept that his gifts were not faults as he’d been told. The sooner he shut out the cries of unhappy souls, the sooner he could be happy. Still, he thinks of how perfectly you defied their logic.

You were nothing like anyone he’d known. Strong and defiant, taking orders from only those whom you thought to be good leaders. But you knew when to pull back. How to listen and how to care for fragile things that do not care for themselves.

It was a surprise to quite literally no one that he fell. It was also secret to no one how badly he longed. Mainly in part to his own lovesickness, he was always horrible at suppressing his emotions. But he could endure Legend’s incessant teasing if it meant he could stare at you while the sun bathed your face in just the perfect light.

He was utterly hopeless, at your beck and call for any and all orders. In the society he hailed from, such behaviours were disgraceful of a man. But so long spent being a mistake of magic meddling with mortals meant he didn’t care what they branded him as, so long as he was yours.

He was patient.

Enough so he could watch a fondness beyond friendliness grow behind your eyes.

Enough that he could hold hands with you on late night walks.

Enough that eventually, he’d hold your hand as you travelled and lead you by the small of your back whenever you joined him on his rambles. He celebrated each little milestone, giddy despite his efforts to remain calm.

He could readily recall the first time he cradled one of your hands in his, a cold night’s walk as the first snowfall dusted on whichever Hyrule the chain had wandered into. A shiver racked your body, and he couldn’t find the self restraint to stop himself before grabbing both of your hands and cupping them in his own. He brought them to his lips, almost akin to that of prayer and blew hot air onto your chilled skin. The moment passed slowly as his heart fluttered like a fairy within his ribs.

“Let’s get you back to camp to warm up” He’s still surprised he could manage to suppress the tremble of his voice as he kept one of your hands and led you back. He remembers so clearly the look you passed him with wind-flushed cheeks before your eyes darted into the treeline.

It was not much later on that he realised that this one sided love of his was anything but unrequited. Unfortunate that it happened under the circumstances it did, but it was worth it in his eyes. He hopes that even in the situation where you wouldn’t be bleeding beneath him, he’d still recognize the yearning of your heart. It was hard to miss

the fluttering of your heart as his hands glided over the appropriate grounds of your skin. It was harder to miss the way your soul reached out towards him through the bridge of his magic. The sensation was so unexpected that he faltered for a second, the bond weakening. He welcomed you, his world, with open arms.

It was a longer while yet until he kissed you. Even then it was still debatable, as he didn’t initiate. This time, a humid summer evening. A chorus of critters and crickets accompanying his ramble. He’s still rather unsure what it was about fairy culture that made you reach out and cup the curve of his jaw, but he’d be a fool to complain. Especially considering how gently you kissed him afterwards, stopping him from leaning forward and closing the gap to admire his flustered face for a moment. And for that second, he was suspended in time, lost within the raw feeling of being alive. He’s sure he was shaky at first, but he grew a little more confident as you guided his hands to your hips. You did most of the work in hindsight, gently sucking and nipping at his bottom lip. All he’d ever known told him to be ashamed of the whine you pulled out of him as he squirmed beneath you, but the proud smirk you rewarded him with filled his heart with something other than shame… But it certainly burned equally as much.

He couldn’t stop his mind from wandering back to the clearing, no matter how much time had passed or what he tried to distract his thoughts with. Vividly he still feels the sweat clinging to his skin and the pressure on the side of his hips as you shifted to straddle him. Its hard to forget that amount of pure energy and magic rushing through his blood as his heart soared. He just couldn’t keep his thoughts off of you.

Mostly they were innocent: what flowers he could braid to make your crown, what gifts he could adorn you with… things that would make you smile.

But it was those odd nights he couldn’t quite wrangle his mind that he would instead wonder about what would make you keen. What he could do to have you squirming in your seat. Whether or not you’d prefer him be below you or above. Where exactly you’d prefer his hands and lips to explore.

It was now he truly understood the priminality of the mind scape. Things that under any circumstances would have been the former, his mind would skew into the ladder. Sleepy groans as you wake twisted into whines of pleasure as he indulged in drinking down your sweet release from his worship of your sex. Sly calls of his name in teasing being morphed into your beckoning as your hand works his cock.

He tried, hard as he might to shove such indulgences out of his mind. He’d never cross your boundaries.

But is it really crossing boundaries if you’d intentionally slip a hand between his thighs while cuddling?

Is his imagination that far off if you already suck at the sensitive part of his neck?

He did not wish to indulge in being so sacreligious as to deface your divinity. So, he’d resolved to cuddle you to sleep and slip away, as he had tonight. He’d never been particularly too fond about touching himself in any way intimately. It was seen as a sin back home to indulge in pleasure outside its most primal use of breeding. But especially when considering the roads he travelled on were uncharted and dangerous, he never had the time to ever succumb to temptation in the first place.

He fumbled with his pants, eventually freeing his erection that you’d spent the last ten minutes palming. The cold air of the night only served to make him more sensitive, his lungs sucking in the air through his teeth as he rested his head back against the tree he leaned on. Slowly, he loosened his hand from where it was balled up, tightly gripping at the grass beneath him. It was easier, moving his hand to caress the length of his dick, when he imagined it was you. Hylia- how badly he wishes it was you.

He spread his thighs, as if making room for you already as his thumb gently rubs the crown of his cock. He feels his blood pulse as he continues the motion, sending shocks shuddering over the webs that made up his nerves. He slips his hand lower down, groaning as he adds pressure in his grip. The calluses of his hands are rough, contrasting the sensitive skin.

He wishes that you would watch him. Tell him he’s doing it right, kiss the column of his neck and whisper into the shell of his ear how good he’s being.

He wants to be good for you, it’s all he’s ever wanted. Sure, it’s changed now in its deeper meaning— But being a good boyfriend and being a good boy can’t be that different, can they? The thought makes his head swim and go dizzy as his languid strokes turn eager and needy.

He squeezes his eyes shut and blocks out the world to focus on you. Stunning, perfect, intoxicating you. He recalls every raspy whisper telling him how well he’s learning for you, every passing praise he’s collected. He imagined you behind him, working your hand up and down at this painfully stimulating rhythm while telling him you pretty he his as he whines your name.

All it’d take is your order for him to sing your praises and he’s moaning out his begs. His whimpers could be your hymns as he falls to his knees and worships your heat dripping with slick pre-cum. For his offering to you, he’d stay there as your fingers tug at the roots of his hair, letting you cum all over his face as his dick is left neglected. Perhaps if you were truly gracious, you’d let him hump against your leg.

His back arches as he lets out a throaty whine of your name. He sputters and grinds his hips against his hand as ropes of cum spurt from his cock. He pants, his eyes fluttering open as his fuzzy vision works toward refocusing. His blurred senses snap back to normal as a hand cups his jaw and turns his head to the right. Your eyes are half lidded as you scan over his body and the mess he’d made.

“Awe look at you” Your voice purred as your other hand combed through his wavy locks. His swallows thickly as he tries to decipher the expression on your face. What if you hated him? What if he’s too sinful for you? What if you don’t want him anymore? What if- But he finds not an ounce of dismay.

“You sounded so pretty… wailing my name as you came everywhere” His face flushed and his rapid train of thought halted, going to a complete silence.

“I- Hylia- I’m so sorry sunshine-“ He stammered out, only for you shut him up with a kiss, whispering assurances between breaths. He can feel your lips brush past his own as you mumble words of loving adoration. You nip slightly at his bottom lip as your tongue slides into his mouth, exploring his own. One hand finds purchase on his hip bone as the other stays tangled among his hair. He chances your lips as you pull back, tongue darting out to lick his saliva from your lips.

“You look so nice all dazed like this,” You tease as his head spins with you. The hand in his hair slides down to tilt his chin up, exposing his neck.

“Do you mind if I mark you up a bit?” he’d be a fool to ignore the glint in your eye, nothing pure he’s sure of it.

“Fuck- Please” Your thumb presses into his mouth and onto the very tip of his tongue as your lips suckled at the side of his neck. He can’t think of tomorrow’s embarrassment as he tries to hide the marks. His foggy mind can only focus on how amazing your lips feel as they leave bruises and the way his nerves jump when you bite him gently. He tries to beg for more as you lean away, but is stopped by the soft pad of your thumb. He swipes the tip of his tongue across it one last time before it’s removed, much to his dismay.

“Would you like some help?” You ask, bemused as the hand on his hip spread out, your palm flat against the lowest part of his abdomen. He didn’t even notice that he’d gotten hard again. Let alone that he had been arching his back.

“Don't be nervous. I want to make you feel good” Your thumb, still damp with his spit, caressed his cheek with sincerity. Your eyes held nothing but a genuine love. He nodded slowly, eyes wide as they stared back into your own.

“Use your words for me love, I wanna hear you”

“Please- shit m’ so- ah~” His begs were coked from his throat as your hand finally dipped down to fondle his balls. You sunk to right between his thighs, pressing a kiss to the very inside of either one.

“So good of you getting all prepped for me” You cooed, your hands rubbing circles into his thighs and massaging out the tension from being splayed open for so long. You pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of his cock, your tongue licking away the bit of pre-cum that followed. You smiled and licked the underside of his length along his veins all the way back up to the head.

“Mnh- Please”

“Please what, dearest” You knew what you were doing, sucking only when he tried to beg for more, reducing him to moans.

“M- mph~ More!” You grinned as he finally got the word out through choked whines.

“Alright” Finally, you took him into the wet heat of your mouth, flattening your tongue as you took him as deep as you could manage, your hands working what you couldn’t. Only to sink back up to focus on the tip while a rush of cold met his shaft.

“F- Ah~ Please” He cried as he rocked his hips, pleading to be returned to your wet mouth. His hands threaded into your hair as you sank back down. He tried his hardest to stop his hips from sputtering, lest he choke you. But something within his mind snapped as he stood at the precipice of pleasure. His hips bucked into your mouth, relishing in the warmth.

When his mind finally cleared and caught back to consciousness he was back at camp, all cleaned up. He was in fresh clothes and felt no stickiness on his skin. Your hands worked carefully as they carded through his hair, twirling at the untamed and uneven cuts. He groaned as a wave of exhaustion rolled over his bones.

“Sh sh” You eased from behind him. He was cuddled up on your chest, starfished over you.

“I cleaned you up and brought you back. You alright? Water? Snack?” He buried his face into the crook of your neck as he shook his head. This is where he was supposed to be, not waiting about for some sake of superficial love or false marriage. He was supposed to be here, loved in your arms.

“You did so well for me,” You pressed a tender kiss to his temple “I love you so much.”

“I love you too sunshine” He mumbled into your skin as sleep dragged him away.

[coconutdays]

Strawberries and Burgers

College AU! Eren Yeager x Reader

Part. 1 Part 2 Part 3

Warnings: just fluff I think for now T^T and some suggestive themes! Also I hate that these parts are so short. I think I'll take more time to write longer parts for the next ones coming up

The girls hogged you the rest of the night and it drove Eren insane. They made you eat your burger with them in a secluded corner and kept you all to themselves even after. It was stupid because why do they all need to take you to the restroom at the same time.

Can he just fucking talk to you again?

"You're staring hard again Yeager." Connie said, lightly shoving Eren to wake him up from his trance, "We all know she's hot."

"How do you know her?"

"I have my stats class with her. She asked me for my notes once this semester and we just became friends."

"She knows you?" Eren was dumbfounded

"Why do you sound surprised?! Pretty girls know me t-"

"I just thought you thirst followed her ever since you reposted her on your story that one time." Eren shrugged his shoulders.

Connie quickly shut his mouth and raised up a finger, "Okay I do thirst follow her, but that repost was a friend thing cause it was a good fucking photo."

"Wait you remembered that?" Connie squinted his eyes at him

Eren avoided eye contact with him, "Well she's pretty, you said so your-"

"Dude. Just ask her for her number or something." Connie deadpanned

Eren groaned into his hands, "I would if Sasha wasn't making her dance with her the entire fucking night."

Connie burst out into laughter, "Yea cause Sasha doesn't want creeps like you preying on Y/N the entire night."

Eren made a face, "I'm not a creep."

"Then why do you want her number?" Connie crossed his arms

"She's cute!" Eren held up both of his hands in defense

"You know she's high maintenance right?" His friend raised an eyebrow at him

"What?"

"She doesn't have a boyfriend cause she has high standards. She almost had a thing with our quarterback, but he fucked up and didn't text her back for an entire day. I don't blame her though, a hot babe's gotta know her worth."

Eren put a finger out to stop Connie, "That's our quarterback. Not me."

"Okay Eren. Okay." Connie rolled his eyes, "Then by all means try to bag the campus hottie."

"Hi."

Both of the boys visibly jumped and you giggled.

You just said hi, nothing to get surprised by.

You were in front of them, a light sheen of sweat covering your skin due to dancing the night away with the girls. It made chills go down Eren's spine at the sight of how good you looked in this moment. He could still smell your strawberry perfume on you from where he was standing. God knows he couldn't get enough of it in the car ride earlier.

"I just wanted to say bye real quick!" You casually said, moving to say bye to somebody else before Eren grabbed you by the wrist.

"You have a ride home?" His pretty green eyes were looking into yours, funnily enough seeming as if he was looking for your answer in your eyes.

A smile started forming on your lips. He sounded worried. It was hot.

You nodded, biting your lip to supress your smile, "Yep!"

There was a tense feeling between the two of you as Eren let go of you. It was enough for Connie to notice.

"Bye Connie. Bye Eren." You swayed away, heading towards Jean.

"Bro." Connie iterated

Eren was watching you walk away, a grin taking form on his mouth.

"Bro."

Connie started shaking Eren by the shoulders, jumping up and down.

"That's my boy YEAGERRRRRR!" Connie jumped up to ruffle the top of Eren's head in excitement.

Reiner walked up next to them with a red solo cup in hand, confused.

"What's going on?

"YEAGER GOT Y/N UBER DUBER HOTTIE'S ATTENTION" Connie almost squealed.

Thank God you were basically out of the door by now or else you would've heard Connie.

Reiner managed to get a look at you before the door closed and looked back at Eren, "No way."

Connie, bouncing with joy, seemed way more excited than Eren was, "YES WAY!"

Eren couldn't say much to his friends. He could only keep replaying every moment he spent in your presence. You were so fucking pretty it made his brain foggy. He wanted to be in front of you, to lean down close to you to see how flushed your face could get. He wanted you all to himself without any prying jealous eyes or girls keeping you away from him for gossip or dancing.

You had to show up at their hangouts more often now. You had to.

After leaving the party and falling into his bed later that night, Eren couldn't have been more grateful of Connie partaking in being your hype man. At some point during the party, you had your photo taken in that cute little outfit of yours and posted it to your instagram. He knows because said post was resposted by Connie on his story as of twenty minutes ago.

Eren made that his excuse to follow you and then like your post.

He almost threw his phone across his room out of embarassment, but instead he placed it on top of his chest as he layed down on his bed, staring at the ceiling.

Man. Something about you.

buzz-buzz

He lifted up his phone as fast as he felt his phone vibrate.

Y/N_xoxo started following you

Eren smiled to himself in relief. You followed him back. You really followed him back.

Fuck.

What's the point of this if he's not going to text you? Should he text you now? You don't seem like the type to chase a guy if you dumped the school's quarterback without a second thought. Fuck.

Fuck it.

buzz-buzz

You quickly jumped into your bed to look at your phone.

Eren: I'm taking it you got home safe, right?

You squealed into your fist. He's so hot.

Y/N: Mhm! I'm guessing you did too? I heard there's a high demand for guys with man-buns in the black market lately, better be safe!

Eren: Are you in the black market? (Whether or not I lock my doors tonight is based on your answer.)

Y/N: Hm. What if I am?

Eren: I will not be locking my doors.

Y/N: Okay then I'm not :p

Y/N: Wait, I'm being sarcastic.

Y/N: I know what you mean. I'm just teasing.

Y/N: I'm really bad at flirting

Eren: You're flirting with me?

Y/N: Totally not... Are you? Hm?

Eren: Totally am.

Eren: Sorry I have to resort to making you swoon through your DMs. Kind of hard to approach you when Sasha was basically making out with you on the dance floor the entire night.

Y/N: It's only a problem if you only plan on doing it through my DMs

Y/N: Oh so you were stalking me huh?

Eren: NO.

Eren: I just like looking at you bust moves to Rihanna. Is that so wrong?

Eren: Can I take you out to eat and make you swoon there then?

Y/N: Depends on where! I don't think I can afford fine cuisine at the moment.

Eren: You're crazy. I can afford whatever for the both of us.

Y/N: You sure?

Eren: Never in my life will I allow you to buy me a single grain of food. That's how sure I am.

Y/N: Ahahahahaahaha. If you say so Erennnnnnn.

Eren: I heard that in my head. You said that like how you said bye to me at the party didn't you.

Y/N: Maybe :)

Y/N: How did I say bye to you at the party huh?

Eren: You dragged out my name and gave me flirty eyes.

Eren: It was cute.

Y/N: You're cute.

Eren: There you go. You know how to flirt.

Y/N: OH MY GOD.

Y/N: YOU SAY THAT LIKE IM A COMPLETE NOVICE.

Y/N: Never flirting with you again! I said it!

Eren: I can flirt enough for the both of us beautiful. Let me take you to that one italian restaurant near campus and show you there.

Y/N: Hmmm. Okay :)

Y/N: Wait you know I won't like hookup with you right.

Eren: I remember your standards pretty. Of course.

Y/N: Okay then :)

Y/N: I'm really sleepy Eren and I don't wanna leave you on delivered. Text you tomorrow?

Eren: Expect a goodmorning from me then Miss.

Y/N: hehe ok.

Y/N: night night Eren.

Eren: Goodnight Y/N

You set your phone down and silently screamed into your pillow. God, he was so hot and you scored a date with him.

No, he scored a date with you.

You had yet to see if he was going to treat you the way others had yet to do. Although, he was on the right track so far.

He was so good looking. It would be too big of a boost to his ego if he knew he was exactly your type. Everything about him just tied together so neatly. His hair, his clothes, his eyes, his height, his voice, oh god.

You knocked your head into your pillow again and again before wrapping yourself with your blanket to go to sleep.

You couldn't wait to talk to him again.

[this-world-of-beautiful-monsters]

violently smashing my two major fandoms with an F together as a form of procrastination

A question for the ages: WHICH Avatar character matches up with WHICH Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle one and WHY the fuck should anyone (besides me) care? We'll answer at least one of those questions for you tonight, dear viewers!!!!

First up

Neteyam - Leo

Eldest son, blue theme (like I could say this for all the Sullys, but shush), can do no wrong except when one of the siblings stubs a toe and then the Guilt, daddy's favorite solider who's also a huge dork (like we don't see a lot of evidence of this in canon for Neteyam but let me have this), Neteyam's Untimely End vs Leo getting treated as such a punching bag by each TMNT iteration that throwing him through a goddamn window is an established franchise staple by now.

Kiri - Donnie

A case can be made for April-Kiri parallels (particularly for psychic powers re 2012 April, my beloved, and dead mom syndrome) and also Karai-Kiri (for dead mom syndrome, how often I've mixed up their fucking names while writing), but Kiri-Donnie fits the siblings theme, so there. They're tech nerd-nature nerd solidarity, autistic Entities of unparalleled death and destruction, happy to destroy government property, younger siblings pretending to be above the Chaos while very much not, and in desperate need of a nap and a stiff drink.

Lo'ak - Raph

Rage issues. Daddy issues. Big brother issues. Relatively smol and Keenly aware of that fact. Adored by the (smart) fans, cursed by Eywa/God. Makes strong bonds with animal fwends and also collects traumatic experiences like magnets collect nails. 100% either in a fistfight or sobbing into his pillow rn. In a family living at the bottom of a fucking sewer and/or on the run from the government, still manages to feel like an odd one out. Someone needs to introduce Lo'ak to emo music, it would fuck him up so much /pos.

Tuk - Mikey

Youngest and most excitable sibling, heart of gold and jaws of steel. Optimism that remains in the face of innocence slowly being shaved away by Events. Hates being left out or left behind, committed to various Schemes and Plans with historically mixed outcomes. Has definitely either killed a man or will do so as soon as the opportunity presents itself.

Spider - Karai and April

Spider's kind of an unholy amalgamation of April's Token Human We've Shared Traumatic Experiences With journey and Karai's At Odds With Creepy Undead Father Figure And Complex Relationship With Less Creepy Father Figure (see below) arcs. Basically part of my ongoing psyops plans to Feminize That Boy (don't worry Karai-Kiri and April-Kiri parallels, I still love you). Also, Leorai/Apritello and Speteyam/Spiri (mix and match at will) have exciting interspecies and/or vaguely incestous vibes we should all strive for in our weird fanfics.

Jake - Splinter/Hamato Yoshi

Tired dads trying their best and just so happening to raise The Kids as soldiers-warriors along the way. Exciting and confusing relationships with the concept of this thing you call "death." Shameless species hoppers, even though Jake did it on purpose while TMNT writers in various iterations have to come up with increasingly more convoluted ways for it to happen to Yoshi against his will. Is not afraid of violence, especially when it comes to their homoerotically homicidal relationship with

Quaritch - Shredder

Big Bad of the story, or at least the one everybody pays attention to. The Bitch Who Refuses To Die. Unhealthy, possessive, genuinely quite creepy (/pos) obsession with sort-of-kid who ended up in his care through Unfortunate Means. Will destroy everything he remotely cares about and sit in the ashes with surprised Pichaku face before finding someone to blame. Refuses to let go of a fucking grudge, be it with aforementioned homoerotic-homicide buddy or various children.

Neytiri

Technically the best Neytiri parallel in terms of family relationships would be Tang Shen, Splinter's wife and the pseudo/actual (depending on the iteration) mother of his children. However, Tang Shen has an unfortunate history of being Dead Girled and Ghost-Momed in a way that puts her more in common with Grace or Tom Sully (rip). Still, Neytiri has a lot in common with the vengeful demon ghost version of Tang Shen that exists primarily in my head.

BONUS

Payakan - Casey Jones

Outcast from society, defender of the weak, wanted by the authorities. Combines genuinely passionate belief in justice/revenge with an equally genuine talent for wanton violence and destruction. Has an interspecies bromance with Lo'ak/Raph that puts Achilles and Patrocles to shame. Someone definitely needs to introduce Payakan to emo music, too, not to mention death metal--he'd start a band to put those Little Mermaid fuckers to shame.

Questions? Comments? Concerns? Arguments? (you're all wrong btw) Only know me from one of these fandoms and have no idea what the hell I'm taking about? Hit me up in the reblogs!

[jades-typurriter]

Tell us more about Fiora and Heather!!

ALRIGHT SO

even though fiora is kind of the main character of "Shear Bliss" (NSFW Warning!) we kind of have to start with heather because they are, contrary to appearances, the older of the two of them by FAR

heather's original refs, designed and drawn by @sacrednanners on twitter!

theyre actually significantly older than fiora. like, by several millennia.

they were actually born on one of the smaller islands in the mediterrannean about 3200 years ago, a period during which, according to greek mythology, the gods were still directly fucking with people all the time. according to Oedipus Rex, the gods stopped doing that after looking at the colossal mess they made in the events of that play (+ the trojan war), so if i wanted to be able to point at the existence of magic in greek mythology instead of coming up with my own magic system, i had to pick a date from before then (more specifically, its the estimate i saw for the setting of The Odyssey, and Circe was a direct inspiration for their character, so thats what i went with :) )

after picking up their tricks, they started traveling from island to island and city-state to city-state, using their magic to trick people into believing they were a minor deity or nature spirit of some kind. as it turns out, that sort of thing is a good way to land "guest of honor" status at those old greek festivals (and also lots of offerings of food!) they picked up their taste for being pampered and adored there, and once they had run out of places to keep up the con had their fill of greek life, they also toured lower egypt, doing much the same, and then so on and so forth in other places

they've maintained their youth for so long using their magic (which is, in turn, maintained with all the worship they used to collect with the "lesser divinity" scam). nowadays, they get all the attention they need through less direct means than showing up to a rager in person: a VERY strong digital presence. in addition to modeling work, they run a highly successful instagram and are a popular livestreamer, bringing in a comfortable amount of money from donations, sponsorships, etc. (that said, they still fuckin love a good rager).

fiora's original reference, also by @sacrednanners, and the first panel of the sequence from Shear Bliss, by my bestie @mae-lizzowski

fiora, on the other hand, is totally mortal and also (apart from working in and around hollywood) totally normal. she was born in a rural community, moved out to work as a tailor, and through a combination of factors (working hard in a decade where that made a difference, having a steady supply of any colored thread she could need immediately on-hand to rapidly iterate on a client's request, and some lucky connections) was able to build up enough savings and reputation to set up her own boutique.

she met heather through her work, when they were working their way up to their current popularity (which, to be fair, wasn't much of a long process; in fact, it was suspiciously quick) and heather wanted to go straight to the big names to get some nice clothes for themself. for as obnoxious as they can be as a customer, they're good at telling where exactly The Line is, and they don't cross it with fiora. with that absolute minimum of respect met, enough reoccurring business between the two of them led them to develop a rapport---while the streaming gig is relatively new, heather's been one of fiora's most reliable customers for going on 30 years! even if she can't stand them sometimes, thats plenty long to get used to somebody.

her wool, pivotal to her work though it is, is also fairly normal. no magic involved, just a quirk of her genes. both of her parents had white wool, and even her son doesn't share the mutation!

(her son florence is his own character btw, as opposed to like an off-screen piece of characterization for fiora. imagine being raised by both a hardass like fiora and a diva like heather. imagine this kid just turning 20 and not only breaking into the fashion business as well, but rubbing elbows with celebrities and going to parties and shit. hes such a menace and i love him)

anyway ty for letting me ramble about the two of them ily bestie

[halloweenkills]

tell me ab ben and harley 👀

HHIII okay so. let me ramble hold on

some Benjamin Hart facts:

serial killer. reason number one for the forseen tumblr discourse, because not only is he a aerial killer but he's also got Mental Illness and like don't get me wrong i understand the trope of making mentally ill characters evil is bad but he doesnt kill Becuase he's mentally ill okay. he kills people as stress relief and also just happens to have ocd and a tendency to hallucinate.

reason two for tumblr discourse: he's an addict, specifically self medicates with morphine which again. has nothing to do with why or how he kills people. it actually makes me Less likely to kill because it's another form of stress relief.

his father was a psychiatrist and Ben was also sort of... off even as a child, miscategorized as antisocial but really his brain is just wired a little wrong like he just Doesn't Get It when it comes to social relationships and people in general, so as a result his father kind of like medically experimented on him as a kid trying to help but nothing seemed to work. he was in and out of hospitals a lot as a kid, got a lot of unethical treatment (shock therapy and various medications to sedate him and hypnosis) which obviously like kind of just made him Worse.

he feels emotions so strongly that he doesn't know what to do with them and he also never really could figure out how to recognize which emotions are what so. that's really the biggest factor in his being a serial killer. he feels love so strongly that it becomes obsessive so as a child it was expressed through violence, and as an adult whos learned self control/regulations as least a little bit it now leads to some rather stalkerish behaviors. and maybe some light kidnapping. (but it's fine bc Harley loves him back. NOT in a Stockholm way though I know people would argue for that too)

his parents immigrated from Austria just before he was born and they're like Rich Rich like old money in the millions Rich and he was homeschooled, so despite living in America he has a mostly Austrian accent. German is technically his first language though he learn both that and English at the same time growing up. he's also from Chicago and has never left Chicago and was more so raised by his parents staff/nannys so his accent also has some hints of Chicago in it at times.

his mother died when he was young like 9 or so. she had cancer and Benjamin killed her to put her out of her misery. she was his first victim. he also killed his father when he was older but that was malice not love.

he's 31 years old + in modern terminology (the story is set in the early 1990s) fits the definitions for agender as well as being on the asexual and aromantic spectrums but he would never identify as such. he just doesn't care, he's fully apathetic about it. he considers himself to be a gay man but even that label is like pointless to him.

there's several iterations of him so some things are a little different from when I first made him but as of currently Ben is also a psychiatrist, bc it's really all he knows. specifically hes working at a university.

WHICH is where Harley comes in! Harley was actually created by a friend of mine for the sole purpose of shipping with Ben so like none of the following was created by me, im just stating facts.

Harley is a Jewish, half Pakistani and half romani, immigrated to america as a young child, grew up in California before coming to Chicago on full scholarship. i can't remember what his majors called but his ultimate goal is to find a cure for aids.

another reason for tumblr discourse is the age gap. Ben's 31 and Harley's 24. also Harley is autistic so that just leads to further infantilization. (and I also know that people would bring up the fact that Ben is German while Harley is Jewish like. that means anything at all)

AND the "power imbalance" of Benjamin being harleys psychiatrist (and in some iterations just one of his professors)

more harley facts bc i got sidetracked: he has a tendency to never sleep bc he works as a stripper in a gay club during nights then spends all day at school or in his lab doing research. (he's got a private lab fully funded by the uni)

and harley while not a serial killer is kind of unethically preforming experiments on dead bodies (which are often illegally obtained but Not by killing them)

the plot of the story is sort of scifi ish in nature with harleys research leading to growing living organs in dead bodies. and that's a major conflict in the story where harleys like "Ben you can't kill people it's wrong" and Ben's like "harely you can't resurrect people some would argue that's also wrong"

I also can't remember harleys full name at the moment but I remember his initials spell out the word 'help'

and anyway Ben and Harley are just so in love and are soul mates and just 100% belong together in a way that is inherently obsessive and toxic (on both ends)

AND spoilers for the end of the story. aids is a major theme throughout the story, as is tragedy, and resurrection. so i think u get where im headed with that (one of them dies and the other resurrects them out of love. but they come back Wrong because you can never truly have eternal life)

[jomiddlemarch]

Good French cooking cannot be produced by a zombie cook

“You’re gross,” Ellie said. She grimaced, but in less disgust than Grace would have anticipated. Yeah, because you’re such an expert on teenagers, dead-Lauren muttered, so Grace took another bite from the dish in front of her in defiance, which would require a trained analyst to unpack. Those were short of the ground these days. “Don’t be gross.”

Joel took an even larger bite than Grace had and chewed dramatically, in some show of adult solidarity that Grace appreciated, though she thought it was unlikely to be helpful.

“I didn’t mean manners, God,” Ellie said, slumping in her seat. “I don’t care how you eat, how loud you are—”

“Really?” Grace asked. She was supposed to be out last night, Ellie was, for at least a few hours, time they’d decided to make the most of, Grace laughing at Joel’s urgent intensity until he started muttering I wanna hear you come, Gracie, c’mon darlin’ in the most erotic mixture of coaxing and command she’d never heard before and she’d startled herself with the volume and pitch of her moaning while he did impossible things with his hands and his dick until they’d both frozen when Ellie called out “Hi, Joel, I forgot, oh crap—yeah, um, I’m sleeping over Araceli’s, bye!” They’d taken turns trying to convince each other that she hadn’t heard anything, not Grace calling out Joel’s name, not Joel cursing and grunting, not the totally clichéd headboard thumping against the bedroom wall. They’d ultimately each said they were sure she hadn’t heard anything without believing it and then had a quieter, lingering second round that ended with Joel licking away the tears on Grace’s temples after she’d reassured him he hadn’t hurt her.

“This isn’t about last night,” Ellie said. “That was my bad. I should have knocked louder. Not forgotten my fleece. Skipped the toothbrush. Gone deaf,” She was enjoying herself, Grace could tell, with each additional phrase, a notable increase in the impish gleam in her eyes.

“We didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” Grace said.

“Look, I’m not going to say I’m not scarred for life,” Ellie began, pausing when Grace frowned and Joel shot Ellie a particularly fierce glare, “because I’m not. It’s okay, you two have a thing and that’s cool beans—”

“That’s cool beans?” Joel repeated. Somehow that was what made him incredulous.

“Ted says it all the time, sorry,” Ellie replied.

“You don’t call him Coach Lasso?” Grace asked.

“He told us not to. He said we could call Coach Beard Coach Beard, because it helped center him in the role and also that calling him Beard was weird and weird and Beard rhyme and that set him, I mean, Ted, off for a while. He was teaching us stinky pinkies, you know what those are?” Ellie said. When she talked about Ted, Ellie sounded like a kid, the way Grace remembered kids sounding, or even like a kid raised in Jackson, instead of the worldly, cynical woman Grace had first met.

“Yeah,” Grace said, before Joel could ask for clarification. It would be enough that Ellie added stinky pinkies and whatever Lasso iteration there might be thereof to her daily puns and riddles.

“Ted said he liked being called Ted. That he was happy to coach us, but being called Coach was hard for him and he didn’t have to explain, we got it. People have stuff like that. It’s not like he has some horrible name like Malvolio or Murgatroyd or something,” Ellie said.

“Miz Connie picked Twelfth Night, I see,” Joel commented. “Smart.”

“I don’t care that you guys were having loud sex yesterday when I wasn’t supposed to be home,” Ellie said. “Like, bully for you. That’s not what I meant about being gross.”

“No?” Joel said. Grace was happy to cede the floor to him, relieved he wasn’t going to deny anything or sit there like a statue and let her fumble around like the roommate’s new girlfriend. Watching him be Ellie’s dad, which he’d admitted he’d avoided for as much of their trip West as he could, had been the reason she’d fallen in love with him or at least, had fallen so quickly; it was possible the undeniable attraction between them would have eventually turned into affection, but it was the way he looked at Ellie, the curve of his lips when he scolded her, the sight of his hand on her shoulder that Grace couldn’t resist. He spoke of Tess infrequently, usually with regret, and she thought of how long it would have taken for him to trust her the way he’d trusted Tess if he hadn’t become Ellie’s father first.

“Lies, that’s what’s gross,” Ellie said. There was a flicker in Joel’s eyes, the briefest tightening of his lips that Grace filed away, because she sure as hell wasn’t going to bring it up in front of Ellie, just what it was that Joel thought of when Ellie said lies. Grace allowed herself a flexible relationship with the truth and it was what had kept her alive since Kian was murdered, but she couldn’t guess what lies troubled Joel. Or rather who he’d lied to, not what he’d lied about.

“You think so?” Joel said. Grace wondered what part of the question he wanted Ellie to answer. She remembered a nameless senior resident, one she’d liked enough to recall the emotion instead of his name, telling her not to order tests if she wasn’t prepared to deal with the outcome…

“You shouldn’t lie to me,” Ellie clarified.

“When did I lie to you?” Joel asked.

It was the most foolish thing Grace had ever heard Joel say, but at least they were in the realm of the foolish, not the dangerous. It was highly unlikely that Ellie’s response would get anyone killed. Grace knew enough not to go any further than highly unlikely in her estimate.

“When you said my applesauce pudding was good,” Ellie said. “Ted said it was never-fail, but it’s terrible and you and Grace just ate it up like it wasn’t disgusting and soupy and half-burned.”

“I thought you were going for a crème brulée thing,” Joel said.

“I didn’t think it was soupy,” Grace offered. Lumpy, oddly crunchy in places, and sometimes almost al dente, yes. Soupy was one adjective that wouldn’t have sprung to mind.

“It was supposed to taste good. It tasted like garbage and I wasted all that applesauce and rice,” Ellie said.

“There was rice in there?” Grace said.

“There was applesauce?” Joel said.

“You suck,” Ellie said, without any real vitriol. Was there vitriol in the pudding? dead-Lauren asked and Grace had to make an effort not to nod. “Joel, you suck worse than Grace, because she actually couldn’t tell there was rice in it.”

“Thank you, I think?” Grace said.

“You’re welcome,” Ellie said and then smirked in what Grace recognized as her default comfort mode, the one that meant she felt safe and that she might say or do something real and you better watch out for it.

“It’s the thought that counts,” Joel said and something about the way he said it, the softness in his dark eyes, the briefest pause before he said counts, the space for a memory (of Sarah? Tess? Grace couldn’t help wondering), made it more than a cliché. Or proved why clichés had survived when so much else hadn’t.

“Now you sound like Ted,” Ellie said. “Without being funny.”

“I never bought it when women said all they wanted was for their boyfriend to have a good sense of humor,” Grace said. No one said anything like that now. Maybe she had to give the mushrooms a little credit. They’d destroyed Cosmo and every reality TV show and Bridezillas.

“It’s okay,” Joel said.

“I like you how you are,” Ellie said. It was probably as close as she’d come to saying she loved Joel and Grace knew Joel understood that as she had. “You too, Grace. You’re like, so not the worst. Even if you are way too worried about concussions. Ted doesn’t let us head the ball. You can chill already.”

Joel gave her a look, the look the dad gave to the mom, and so Grace did her best at what was extremely difficult and chilled.

Already.

She did not, however, help with the dishes.

[kagrenacs]

The Exogenesis of Merida and the creation of Mehrunes Dagon

Originally this was a theory I proposed in 2017 or so, and continually kept tabs on over the years as new content dropped. I thought it deserved an update to be kept in one location opposed to several different posts, and to add new information.

Origins

Mehrunes Dagon is described to have been created by the Magne-Ge in the bowels of Lyg, (1,2) a parallel version of Tamriel, possibly in a previous kalpa. (3, 4) He is said to have been intended to be created as a Daedric Prince of good-intent, imbued with Oblivion’s scarce asset of hope by Mankar Cameron. Contrasting the very destructive, often seen as a force of evil, Mehrunes Dagon that we currently see.

The Magne-Ge are spirits that fled creation with Magnus, creating the stars in the sky. Lyranth views them disfavorably, stating: [ We will never know what might have been achieved had Magnus and his legions remained to finish their work. If they did have some hand in Dagon's emergence, is it any wonder that he embodies destruction?] Of these spirits, a handful are named, including Merid-Nunda, favoured daughter of Magnus and the precursor to Meridia before she was cast down from Aetherius for “consorting with the Daedra”, and Xero-Lyg, who bares the name of Tamriel’s parallel plane.

Grief

In an IRC Q&A session with Michael Kirkbride, he mentions a connection between Kyne and Meridia, viewed through the connection of Knights of the Nine and Pelinal as a Shezzarine. Kyne, who “rained forever because he was gone” made the Knight, either through her relics or Morihaus, her son, mentoring Pelinal. Meridia who said “No, I will wait until he comes back.” who is “The colour of his return when curated by rain.” and opposed the Knight through Umaril, her champion. Their subordinates actions towards Pelinal I don’t believe matter much here, we’re looking at the deities. ( @peribeth raised a super good point about them being both associated with life and light, which I’ll come back to later) I believe this is intended to be viewed through the lens of an Enantiomorph, there is some essential thread here connecting the two, enough to make them the same if you look at it the right way. Whether they oppose or support the knight doesn’t matter.

He describes Meridia’s character through metaphors of unrequited love, or loving someone who isn’t going to come back. Quoted:

Otherwise, why would you wait? Hope has a color and a sound and a taste and a touch and 11 more sense[s] you don't know you have yet. And this is why you worship them. The gods and demons beyond your control. They went through it before you.

What ties Meridia and Kyne together, is their grief for Lorkhan. The language here jumped out to me, as opposed to Kyne, Meridia is phrased as remaining hopeful he can return. Oblivion’s scarcest asset.

I believe there to be a common misconception that the Magne-Ge = Star Orphans, but the singular text we have referencing the latter term is the Exegesis of Merid-Nunda (this title isn’t a typo by the way). Which seems to disassociate the Star-Orphans from Magnus, which the term Magne-Ge never seems to have done. It names three spirits as Star-Orphans, Mnemo-li, Xero-Lyg and Merid-Nunda. There is no connection to be made with Xero-Lyg beyond namesake, but I don’t think it’s a stretch. I can’t say why Meridia decided not to align with Magnus anymore. Amun-Dro, Khajiit Silent Priest, calls him cold, someone who loved nobody but himself and his own creations. Perhaps she felt guilt at her decision to flee, but because you can’t change the past, all she could do was protect what Lorkhan loved, even if Magnus didn’t.

Rebirth

Mehrunes Dagon is the prince of Destruction, but like a brush-fire cuts away old growth, this can also mean renewal and hope. Lorkhan, as the trickster and creator god and orchestrator of Nirn’s birth, could have been considered Mundus’ Prince, including all previous iterations such as Lyg. Therefor, Mehrunes, born in Lyg, considers himself the rightful heir to Nirn- or at least that’s what the Mythic Dawn believes. Lyranth poses a more abstract picture, he is simply the face mortals put to the terrifying forces of destruction and revolution, so they have something to fear. Dagon doesn’t believe Nirn belongs to him, the people of Nirn think he belongs to them. A third party, (5) believes him to be a tool created by the Magne-Ge to rectify the mistakes of Nirn and align it with the plans set out by Magnus.

Regardless of what is the truth, if there is a singular truth, he was born with a purpose. Meridia considers herself a protector of the infinite energies, and staunchly opposes Molag Bal who stagnates life energies. (Remember her connection to Kyne through life and light?) Through some vague references, we hear a bit about Lyg as it may have been- or mostly that it was destroyed, either by Mehrunes Dagon and his red legions (6, 7,) or by the princes as a whole according to PGE 2 (PGE is dubious even as a deeplore text published in 2008 ish, I’m just demonstrating there’s a trail to be followed here). We also know that Molag Bal is associated with Lyg, also through PGE 2 and the sermons of Vivec. In the Adversarial Spirits, it says Merid-Nunda attacked the lattice, and possibly orchestrated the death of Lorkhaj. Take these two things together, and you could interpret Merid attacking Mundus, the remnants of Lorkhaj. Now consider the fact that Mehrunes aided in the destruction of Lyg, associated with Molag Bal, Prince of Domination and undeath, and a picture of a stagnating world begins to come into focus. Meridia loved Lorkhan and his idea, even if she couldn’t commit to it permanently and she couldn’t see it become something unchanging and stale, because that’s not what he would have wanted. So she, along with the Star-Orphans, created Mehrunes Dagon.

Lyranth has an interesting take on the Magne-Ge, she believes Dagon is destructive because of his Magna-Ge creators, perhaps being born out of the spaces their deaths should have solidified. Or that perhaps something went wrong during his creation. The Adversarial Spirits claim that Molag Bal felled Dagon and tortured him until creation. The Aldudagga (YES, i’m referencing that.), supports this second claim somewhat, stating that the Leaper Demon King and the Greedy Man (Lorkhan) had devised a plan to keep Mundus the way it was so Alduin wouldn’t start the next kalpa. Alduin catches them, the Greedy Man noclipping beneath Red Mountain and getting stuck there, so he curses LDK to become Mehrunes Dagon, banishing him to the void, revoking his power to jump between Kalpas, and cursing him to destroy everything he preserved and loved. Whatever Dagon’s original purpose and personality may have been, seems to have been lost.

Summary

Merid-Nunda, favoured daughter of Magnus the Architect, loved Lorkhan’s creation. During the breaking of spirits, she blindly fled with her father because that’s all she knew to do. But looking upon the chaotic mess of creation a second time, she felt regret. So with her siblings, she orphaned herself and to combat the stagnation of time and energies, she created a spirit of rebirth- later whom would be corrupted from his original purpose. Magnus and his kin did not look upon this favourably, and so he cast his daughter from aetherius for consorting with illicit spectra, where she became Meridia, guardian of infinite energies.

[isabelguerra]

Could you share some Wizard Au worldbuilding (i.e family, changes you might have made, etc?) :]

Yes absolutely!!! Thank you for the birthday ask :’)!

There’s not too much worldbuilding that hasn’t been mentioned already so I’ll recount the basics and list anything new that might come to mind. I’m not sure if you mean what everyones wizarding families are like, or if theres any history IN the families, or if the changes I made are to the current story over the past few years vs changes to the world r*wling wrote? So I’m going to fudge around a little bit.

FAMILY MATTERS:

Max: One magic parent (mom) / one normal parent (dad); grew up in the normal world

Isabel: Both parents have magic; grew up in the wizarding world

Ed: ???; grew up in the wizarding world

Isaac: Both parents have magic; grew up in the wizarding world

Johnny: Neither parents have magic; grew up in the normal world

Ollie: One magic parent (dad) / one normal parent; flip-flopped between regular and wizarding world growing up. Knew Johnny since they were little

RJ: Neither parents have magic; raised in normal world

Stephen: Both parents have magic; grew up in wizarding world. Really want to know the deep secrets of normal human life. Like what a normal sized squid looks like. He knows it exists hes seen theories on wizard forums

(+Supernormals bc why not)

Lisa & Cody (pry the twins headcanon from my lifeless body): Both parents have magic; grew up in wizarding world

Jeff: Neither parents have magic; grew up in normal world

Violet: One magic parent / one normal parent; grew up in the wizarding world

Suzy: Neither parents have magic; grew up in the normal world

Collin: One magic parent one normal parent; grew up in the wizarding world

Dimitri: Both parents have magic; grew up in the wizarding world

That’s a lot of base knowledge I haven’t iterated in a while! Here’s an overview of how the school is run and who teaches what class :) More below!

If I did this today I mightve gone for some Consortium = Ministry of Magic parallel, but it’s MUCH more fun to mash everything together rather than making a perfect 1:1 to Mayview Middle.

STAFF & SUBJECTS:

Boss Leader: 🎓 Headmaster. Best and worst decision I ever made. Headmaster Boss Leader.

Agent Walker: 🐺 Care for Magical Creatures

Agent Day: 🌱🦡 Herbology & House head for Hufflepuff

Zarei: 🧪🩺🐍 Potions, head Doctor, & House head for Slytherin. She runs the infirmary wing.

Spender: 📙🦅 History of Magic & House head for Ravenclaw

Garcia: 🪄 Defense Against the Dark Arts

Starchman: ✨🦁 Charms & House head for Gryffindor

Baxter: ↔️ Transfiguration

Coach Oop: 🧹 Flying (for underclassmen), he’s also the Quidditch coach for the entire school! Isabel and the other quidditch captains work closely with him during game season

Thats most of what I remember, I think someone suggested once that VP DuNacht be the groundskeeper so that’s potentially something.

ACTUAL WORLDBUILDING

This is a little more vague so I’m just gonna list some headcanons/ general AU-relevant facts!

The Guerra family is one of the Wizarding world’s oldest. Francisco Guerra was an extremely powerful wizard on-par with Merlin, known for pioneering an entire technique of wandless magic. He lived to be a very, VERY old wizard, around 200, before passing on. Stubborn and married to his craft, however, he’s ran the dojo as a ghost for the past ~20 years. In wizau the dojo is a type of training camp for those seeking to learn Francisco’s methods; it’s very elite and private, only the best are accepted under high amounts of scrutiny.

Which is EXTREMELY embarrassing for Isabel. Imagine going to school and everyone looking at you because they learned about your Grandpa in textbooks. He probably has fanboys. And she has to go to school with them. Isabel is essentially the Guerra heir, and is expected to take on the family legacy one day. For her this means getting her basic education at Hogwarts and “graduating” to “real magic” after her 7th year is over, which involves abandoning her wand and spending the next several years at home training to take over Fancisco’s legacy. She hates this.

I’m struggling to think if this would make them high society or not. While they’re renowned for Francisco’s work, I don’t think he would flaunt things publicly. And the Guerras in canon are actually pretty poor, almost exclusively surviving off of Amy’s hospital work and the students’ odd jobs.

The difference is that the spectral world is very hidden and near nonexistent in Pnat, whereas magic world has a whole society of its own. Grandpa Guerra pioneering an entire type of magic ages ago would be much less secret, more akin to something you’d learn in history books. So maybe they are a private elite old rich family? But don’t live particularly extravagant unless when it comes to Making Appearances. They’re very very very old money, but the dojo’s actually very close to the its depiction in canon: i.e. old building, limited hot water, thin walls, devoid of loving family.

When Yule happens in their 6th year, Grandpa lectures Isabel on how this will be an important networking event and opportunity to grow her leadership skills- so don’t make an embarrassment of the family.

I talked a little about Yule costuming last year, so I’ll reiterate now- while I have most of the cast dress way cooler than yule fits went in canon regardless, Isabels outfit is considered in regards to Representing The Guerra Family. She doesn’t pick her own dress. She goes with Max for a couple of reasons, but him being the Hogwarts Champion™ got a grunt of approval from her grandpa. So her dress, sent to her, is Not something she would normally wear and is more extravagant to befit a public tradition where there will be appearances to be made. In the words of a post I made a hear ago; “i wanted her 2 have something she could feel natural in but a little restricted by, as she likely had her dress chosen for her rather than chose it herself. so she likes it, but it reflects her wizarding world status more than her actual personality.”

Sorry Isabel!

Aside from that, Max’s mom was the witch in the family and is who he got his magic from. Zoey is a normal human. Her and their Dad come visit from time to time and they always invite Max’s wizard friends to visit them in the human world. Ummmmm

Who befriended each other first. hm.

I think Isabel and Max would have met on the train when they were first years. Ed probably went to get candy and Max, not knowing anything about the Guerra family, approached Isabel like a normal random student and was like Hey Uh Can I Sit Here. Isabel grew up isolated but not spoiled or snobby or even really aware of how important her family is bc grandpa’s annoying so suuuure grandpa youre suuuuper important ugh whatever. So she’s like :D yeah! And then Ed gets there and all of them ride the train to school together. It’s not until they get there and start sorting that other students are like What Did You Just Say Your Last Name Was.

I can also make this izjo probably lets see. Johnny, also being human world exclusive, definitely did not know who the guerras were and really couldnt care, so he probably picks a fight with her almost first thing when they get to school. Huge 11 year old bitch Johnny Jhonny, beefing with the girl who thinks she could be as buff as him. As if. God their first meeting is probably so bad. SO fucking bad. And then they’re absolutely horrible to each other for the next 2.5 years. But in a way? It’s refreshing. Isabel doesn’t often get to sling insults someones way without them Actually fearing for their family’s safety. Johnny’s probably the only person who doesnt know and doesn’t give a shit.

And so Isabel gets to school and has the humiliating experience of realizing her bitch ass shithead grandfather actually is as important as he said he was. He probably arranges special treatment for her and she fucking hates it. She’s the only Gryffindor to have her own room. She’s got her books pre-bought and are all first editions. She hates it! What if she was excited to have roommates! To run around the wizard stores and press her face up against the shop windows and pick through bookshops and meet people in the crowd and talk to other to-be first years! Her room is decently sized and so so empty. It’s lonely. Maybe she joins quidditch to regularly see people, to make friends, to get dirty and rough. Shame that pain in the neck redhead made it on the team too.

Cody and Lisa are twins and I wrote this AU before Davy was introduced to I have no idea if he exists or not. If he does he’s not a vampire, just some wizard real estate agent. They’re probably the rich ones, that I can abide. Cody is the Hufflepuff quidditch Captain and seeker on the team, Lisa is scarily good at potions brewing and runs a business of enchanted drinks that serve different purposes. Charges an arm and a leg for them too.

Suzy still runs the Journalism club, theyre just much more wizardy. Shes got a fancy floating quill and it’s her sole ambition in life to be head editor for Witch Weekly. Nothing will get in the way of her dream. Nothing. Is she understood, Collin. Pick up that rope shes got an interview to get.

Max parkours on all the moving stairways in the castle. At first they terrified him but when he realized how they could be used for sick flips he went bananas. Despite how much he loves doing this, each time Isabel tries to get him on a broom he has The Worst Time Imaginable.

RJ comes from the normal human world and theyre really enamored by moving portraits! They bring their cell to school and everyone is amazed at how the pictures just….. stay there. All the time. Ed and RJ spend a lot of time together since they’re in the same house.

The Jang/ AC pairings are:

Max & Stephen in Slytherin

Ed & RJ in Hufflepuff

Isabel, Johnny, & Ollie in Gryffindor

Isaac alone in Ravenclaw (lol loser)

So Max constantly evades Stephens creepy ambushes when heading to the dungeons. Which there are many of.

At one point in their first year, the AC finds the maurauders map a special compass that seems to show them the directions to get wherever they want/need to go. Things like pointing to secret entrances, hidden passageways, the quickest route to get somewhere, forbidden areas of the castle, etc. The jang finds out about it and thus begins a THREE YEAR LONG STRUGGLE as the two groups CONTINUOUSLY steal is back and forth from each other.

Johnny steals is while Isabel is changing in the quidditch tent. Max grabs it from Stephens bookbag in the Slytherin commonroom. RJ grabs it out of Max’s pocket when he’s not looking. Ed grabs it when RJ makes a snack run to the kitchen. Isabel gets it from Ed and Ollie mistakes it for a biscuit at breakfast, Johnny takes it from there, Isabel hexes him to take it back. That goes on until roughly their 3rd year when theyre on good terms and just decide to share it.

The compass is old and worn and engraved with the name Smith on the side. nobody knows what that means. Max found it on accident, but something about it feels familiar.

Ed’s family is still missing and he still stays with the Guerras. Ed Burger is fully nonbinary and using theythem by 3rd year. Or maybe he/they and feels out their gender over the course of the series, rather than being a 1 and done? I like the idea of us watching them grow. Maybe Ed’s fully theythem by 5th year. I was roughly theythem by 15, that sounds about right. Ed is REALLY good at Charms and potions magic, they have an incredible talent for joke spells and pranks. They once bewitched themself to only speak in puns for a week and Max nearly lost his mind.

Isaac is a Ravenclaw Prefect by his 5th year (everyone elses 4th year) and is Head Boy™ by his 6th year. In his 7th year Isaac is a teaching assistant (TA) for Garcia’s DAtDA class. He’s not on the quidditch team but gets along well with the teams captain because they both have ridiculous haircare routines

Isabel avoids the prefects bathroom (whicj quidditch captains also have access to) for this very reason. She doesn’t care how nice the soap is. It’s not worth hearing Isaac and Palmer talk gel brands nonstop at 6 in the morning.

GOING TO STOP HERE BUT I MIGHT COME BACK TO IT LATER. THANK YOU FOR THE WIZARD AU ASK!!!!! 💞💞💞

[kindredhearts13]

Dissecting The Cleaning Lady, Episode 2x01 “Sins of the Father”

Okay friends, it is time to dive back into this show that we all hold so dear and start breaking some things down. I have to say that I don’t anticipate this post being as long as mine have been in the past nor as long as it will probably be for future episodes. Are you sitting comfortably? Let’s begin: 

FORESHADOWING

The thing that stood out to me the absolute most was one specific moment in the midst of a larger scene: Fi asks Chris to hand her a knife, he picks it up, hands it to her- blade side pointed at him, handle side at her. 

Now, on the surface, that is just the safe way to hand someone a sharp object and shows how carefully Fi raised her kids. But I immediately took it to mean this: something is going to happen to Chris this season- not necessarily a loss of his own life, but I think the knife was a metaphor for this thing (Marco’s death) constantly hanging over his head and his psyche being a razor’s or knife’s edge away from snapping because of it. It’s this thing that is slowly stabbing at his conscience and will ultimately serve to really challenge him and change him by season’s end. 

Another thing I’m wondering about is Thony and HER safety. A knife (or some iteration of it) seems to have been a bit of a running motif throughout the episode: Marco insinuating that Fi stabbed him in the back by convincing Thony to stay, Arman getting shanked, Nadia insinuating that Thony screwed them over and stabbed them in the back, and of course- Chris and the literal knife. 

It leaves me to wonder if Thony will be the one injured by the end of the season and if that will launch us into the major conflict of future seasons- more on this in my next point.

HAYAK

We definitely haven’t seen the last of Hayak or his influence. Of course, he’ll be in the next episode- but even if he dies, we still have his entire family- and specifically Tarik- out there. I think that Nadia is at risk of Hayak’s wrath, but I also think that if he wanted to hurt her- he would’ve done it by now. I think that Thony is going to be his target, or the target of someone connected to him.

GARRETT

I really enjoy Oliver Hudson and he cares so deeply about this show-so I am sincerely hoping that they give us more to feel for Garrett this season. I feel like they’re being clear that, though Arman is jealous of their relationship, Thony and Garrett are definitely platonic but have this connected relationship that doesn’t even make much sense to them. If it is handled well, their friendship could be something really exciting as the story unfolds. 

THONY & FIONA

This is my favorite relationship on the show, next to Arman and Thony. I’m interested in seeing how their relationship shifts and evolves throughout this season. It was both infuriating and fascinating to watch them unintentionally gaslight each other. What hurts and what I think is going to come up is: I don’t think Fiona was as blind to the depths her brother would go as she lets on. She specifically mentioned knowing how to talk him down when he behaves the way that he was. And it makes me wonder if because Thony wouldn’t talk about it, Fiona just pretended to be blissfully unaware. 

I’ve been reading others thoughts and defense of Fiona and it has truly made me rethink her behavior in this episode and what the writers are trying to tell us about her character. While there was definitely some truth in what Fiona was saying about Arman, I didn’t love the way that she was almost blaming Thony for the actions of a man. And I don’t think she would’ve done it if it were not her brother on the other end of this issue. Something that I love about the complexity of Fi is that for as resilient and capable as she is, she’s also so youthful and fun- but part of that also exists in this space of immaturity for her. And for Fiona, that immaturity comes in her not knowing how to approach some more serious conversations in a way that is more gentle, clear, and level. For example, she avoided telling Chris the truth about his Dad and his citizenship and when she did talk to him, it wasn’t this beautiful, well thought out monologue that brought him to tears and gave him hope. It was messy and all over the place and a bunch of information just pouring out of her. I think that Fiona wants to talk to Thony, but she’s afraid to say the wrong thing and then when she does say the wrong thing, it sets them back. And Thony is so afraid of losing her best friend and disappointing her family, that she keeps trying to keep everything to herself so that she can be the strong one for everyone else.

Fiona is also scared for Thony- she doesn’t know or trust Arman and rightfully so. And I don’t think that she truly trusts Marco, either.

Let’s call it like it is: Marco is abusive. Much like taking away a woman’s right to choose, he was trying to take away her rights and choices by forcing her back to a country that she wouldn’t have the ability to live the life that she wants or gets a say in. He manipulated her as a mother and essentially sent a message that because she’s a woman, he owns her and holds all of the power. And Fiona making excuses for it makes me think that this stems from her background and relationship with her father. I guess we’ll find out next week. 

Let me also say that I don’t hate Marco- I actually wish that he wasn’t killed off so early because I want to know more about who he was before the gambling, the controlling behavior, all of it. What made Thony fall in love with him?

THONY & ARMAN

When I first watched the episode, Arman pissed me off when he snapped at Thony. I’m still a bit confused about this timeline, admittedly, and wish the writers were a bit more clear about how long after Thony and Arman’s tender moment at the end of last season all of this is taking place. However, after re-watching the episode and that phone call, I’ve changed my opinion some. 

Initially, I felt that Arman was speaking to Thony the way that he did back in earlier episodes until that shift when he found out about Luca. But really taking the time to listen in made me realize that I was wrong. He was anxious and worked up, but still very measured in how he spoke with her and it actually made that shift to concern and tenderness that much more endearing. 

He is definitely jealous of the fact that Thony can rely on Garrett, and I feel that stems more from Arman wanting Thony to need him so that he doesn’t feel like he’s going to lose her. I’m hoping that the writers play with that a bit more this season. We already know that Arman both wants and needs Thony. But Arman doesn’t know if Thony actually wants him. She’s needed him and his help, so he was able to feel some security in being in her life. But with so much happening and changing, and their dynamics shifting a bit- even with the whole Nadia element- I think that he needs to know that she wants him and wants to be with him for Arman to actually make a decision. It’s kind of that boyish side of Arman that I mentioned before (in a post about last season), Thony made a romantic gesture at the end of last season and he felt it, but it’s still that “okay, she likes me but does she LIKE like me?” for him. 

I really hope that we get to see more of those smaller, precious moments between them this season that lets both them and us know that they’ve arrived in this new space and understanding. 

Overall, I’m really excited about the rest of this season- particularly Naveen Andrews and his impeccable talent being added to the show. Him in a villain role is going to be delicious. Nothing in this episode particularly shocked me- I knew Marco was most likely going to die and that it would most likely be Chris to do it. I knew Thony would help to cover it up and I knew there would be some tug and pull with her and Fiona. The owner of the motel was a pleasant surprise and I’m curious to see how these storylines bring together Arman and Fiona. Also, can we give more screentime to my girl, Jasmine? I want to know more about our basketball star. 

[mousterian-writes]

Shifts in Staff Envy Over Time

I passed the one year anniversary for posting Staff Envy and I would like to take the time to talk about the upcoming chapter. The Gadgetzan sequence is actually the oldest part of my story and it has gone through the most changes since its original inception. 

Back in the day when the story was called Get that Staff! this was actually the beginning! 

The first iteration involved Kel’Thuzad traveling to Tanaris to hunt down a one-eyed orc he believed to be in possession of the base of Atiesh. Along the way he encounters Amnennar the Coldbringer, Gets sick and Melts, makes friends with the Bronze Dragon Zaladormu who recruits him to help find Thrall (who the dragon had recently lost in an alternate timeline) and finally reassembles Atiesh and accidentally blows up half of Gadgetzan. 

The second iteration had every element from the first, but it took place after the library confrontation. KT, now in denial, is running away from his responsibilities and is punished for it. In pursuit are Modera & Rivendare, they think the lich has kidnapped his daughter. 

Finally, we have the modern iteration. Almost none of those things happen in this chapter at all! Some items have been scrapped from the story all together, like Amnennar. Zaladormu and the melting were rearranged to happen at different times. So what happened to cause all of these changes? In short, it was the trajectory of the characters and the creation of Vael.

Vael

I have a confession to make: I generally like to keep canon characters and OCs separate. I also don’t, as a rule, make fan kids. And yet I’ve technically made two for this story (this is why I’m a hack). Although I could make an argument for Ghastly as there are references to Kel’Thuzad raising plague drakes, Vael is pure fabrication. So why the hell did I do it? 

The primary reason is I needed a way to get the characters from point A to point B, which I will discuss in the next subsection. But, having a kid also adds new avenues for drama that the story did not previously have. It heightens the stakes and creates another wrinkle in KT & Modera's relationship. Finally, it gives KT & Modera that bit I needed for their arcs. 

The Characters

In Get that Staff, KT was on a journey by himself and the story was more focused on his adventure in the alternate timeline. Rivendare was not in the story & Modera and Vael only existed within the other timeline. But this had some issues- for one, his motivations were sort of nebulous and it was difficult to link set pieces together. Also, the cast was too small and inconsistent. As in there was a revolving door, no one to challenge him or remark on his growth.  

I made the decision to expand Modera’s role first because it gave him another person to consider and made his goals more personal as opposed to materialistic. But this still caused issues because IIRC there were still questions on how to get all of the characters to the alternate timeline. Modera might follow him if he was searching for Atiesh, but how would she find out? And would she really follow him into another time by herself to stop him? I don’t think so.

This is where Vael comes in. This is a character that is really able to push the plot forward because the protagonists are naturally invested in her. In addition, she inherited KT’s naive curiocity which can get her into trouble (like in chapter 3), but it is also what gives KT the idea to look for the ledger and ultimately learn that he had a child. I guess this is what they mean by characters moving the plot forward. I think ultimately that's why I’m at peace with making a fan kid- she serves a narrative purpose and (I hope) she isn’t annoying. 

So, this comes to the shift away from the second iteration of Gadgetzan. 

By this time, chapter five had been published. We’ve already had two chapters of Kel’Thuzad being in denial about having a kid. I did not think it made sense for the story for him to continue to be in denial or to run away from his problem anymore. I thought this would be boring for the readers and make him somewhat unlikeable. However there was a second problem- the story was becoming more about Kel’Thuzad and Modera’s relationship. If he ran away, based on the chapter layouts at the time, there were going to be almost seven chapters before they were on screen together again. This would kill their arc. 

It also presented one final and potentially the most important problem: if KT was running around by himself, he would also be completely removed from the A- Plot (rescue daughter) because he would have no knowledge that she had been kidnapped in the first place!    

Which brings us to the modern version of the chapter. Now, KT and Modera are moving together to find their daughter. Instead of going to RFD, they go to Theramore (so long Coldbringer). Zaladormu doesn’t need to be here anymore because they already have a reason to go to the Caverns of Time. KT isn’t actively looking for the base, so the crumbs about a one eyed orc can go away. Instead maybe he and Rivendare are bored and decide to look in a pawn shop while the other two are eating, etc. 

All in all, the changes this chapter have gone through mirror the way the story has grown since its inception. I hope my weird ramblings have been entertaining at least 

[lanternmice]

you clearly love them a lot and i am So curious what ur thoughts on seven red suns as a character are. theyre.. kinda mean from what uve seen, but you probably have some great insights!! if this means gushing about your f/o instead of serious analysis i am also in 100% support of that gbjhf

WUAGHHHHH I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHERE TO BEGIN I LIKE THEM SOOOO MUCH i really really want to talk about General interpretations but it's hard because of how obviously biased i am. but. Augh. this is so nothing but it got long and i'm embarrassed so woe read more be upon ye

i gotta start by mentioning that faelings original design & concept for suns (and spearmaster by extension) is sooo important to me and a lot of my personal interp comes from that, comics like this (link to the official discord btw) that they made for example! and though it has arguably less to do with suns, the 1.5 drought mod also has a special place in my heart but if i get too into that i'll start screaming and crying about it. just know that wanderer is so special to me and suns has two kitty cats that they love so much ok?🫶

anyways. i think because of the fact they aren't fleshed out much in canon aside from the spearmaster broadcasts there's a lot left up for the player to decide, which honestly is really fun to me and i genuinely love seeing other peoples interpretations!! but personally because you mentioned it and because i feel kinda strongly about this in particular, i wanna say that i don't think suns is mean, i think they definitely have the potential to be overprotective and intimidating, but it'd almost always be out of love. one thing the broadcasts ARE good at showing is just how much they care about basically everybody around them, even if they're a little.. dense about some things. they way they talk in the chat logs with nsh, about their guilt over pebbles' situation and trying to make up for it even though pebbles clearly doesn't want their help, about dooming not only pebbles but moon as well (who as far as canon text goes, they don't seem to have ever personally talked to moon at all imo). and when nsh stops messaging them, or becomes increasingly worried about moon, they get visibly concerned about his wellbeing as well and does their best to console him. my favourite broadcasts are the ones about their gradual realization that maaaaybe they care about spearmaster a little more than they originally intended to. they raised spearmaster, going as far as to teach it a personally modified sign language rather than a quick and easy one-way mark of communication like most iterators would do. the chat logs after spearmaster encounters pebbles and how worried suns was for it, about how they regret ever sending them to pebbles in the first place, and that they just wished it'd return home to them safely. there's also the fact that they kept an eye on spearmaster with their overseer basically 24/7, to the point that even pebbles knew that suns was watching. overseers can act on their own, we know that from what we see in canon, but pebbles knew that suns was actively watching when spearmaster entered his can. which. god this wasn't supposed to be about pebbles but pebbles not killing spearmaster is something that's so important to me because he so easily could have killed them and there was no reason for him not to. but despite how hurt he was and how wronged he felt, he knew that it would have ruined suns so he held himself back and it's so AAUUGHHHHHH!!!!!!! i love them all so much. this is barely even about suns anymore sorry i didn't mean to type so much about spearmaster i just love their campaign so much. don't even get me started on the thought of ascending as spearmaster that shit will make me start killing people i actually was going to talk about headcanon stuff too (mostly stuff from before the global ascension/after riv) but. i started thinking too hard about suns and pebbles and spearmaster and wanderer and and and. Well sorry but i fear that if i think about rain world any more today i may end up on national television. so maybe another day

[winterlovesong1]

Winter’s Nancy Drew Rewatch

Welcome to my first rewatch of my current favorite comfort show ❤️ Under the cut are my thoughts and a few insights I hope you enjoy - I’ll be going through each episode and posting these periodically with the tag winter rewatched Nancy Drew.

Episode 2x07 - The Legend of the Murder Hotel

Pretty basic episode title...sorry I didn’t really see any hidden meanings here...

Overall MVP

Probably that teenage girl from the bus stop and Ace. Tying because that one scene at the bus stop is a stand out and Ace because he’s Ace and all that comedy gold cannot be ignored.

Most Heartfelt Moment

Definitely the moment with the teenage girl and Nancy at the bus stop. There’s so much truth within that scene. So much that is spoken (and yet not spoken) between a version of someone who Nancy sees as what she could have been and this young girl, who even though she’s in the position that Nancy envies, she says herself that Nancy is a badass. So life may not go as we plan, we may not follow the paths we set out for ourselves in our idealistic youth, but life is made for detours. That’s how we find the best versions of ourselves is by not taking the roads that are typical, but going off book.

I’m edging along the lines of a Robert Frost poem, but you know what I mean.

Most Comedic Moment

Ace and those teenage girls is comedy gold. 

When Ace calls Nick over and he says “help me”

And then when goes “you don’t cook pancakes in the oven. Who raised you?”

I love him a normal amount.

Best Overall Line

“Maybe you’re not who you thought you should be, but who you are now is still pretty badass.”

Leave it to the innocent to tell us our truths. Thank you teenager for telling a girl that is supposed to be only a year or two older than you that she’s pretty awesome herself. I think we could all use this reminder every once in a while.

Scare Rating

One of the less scary episodes - we sort of had a run of them with the Aglaeca so I suppose this was meant to be a breather.

Nace Slow Burn Rating

So much to unpack here. *deep breath*

This episode really showcases how easy they lean on each other. They have a groove with each other. I need you. You need me. We’re always there for each other. They work in tandem with each other and even though they have very few scenes together, everything has a sort of relay quality to it, a “because of this I will do this for you” air to it. And they trust each other implicitly to handle it. It’s not even a question of “will they say yes” it’s “when will they say yes” - which can also be seen as a taking advantage of, but I think in this episode, it’s not seen that way, it’s just seen as them working seamlessly with each other. 

Then there’s the Amanda of it all. Which on rewatch I just want to iterate how I hope she’s out there living her best life, traveling the world, and finding her person. Because she deserves it. Because really, she saw this sweet guy, step in and help her and she’s probably used to doing everything herself and never had anyone who wanted to help that didn’t have some sort of motive or hidden agenda. 

She’s learned for the best after all.

And you can tell Ace really does like her. But I also think that flirting and attraction comes from the fact that he couldn’t possibly love his best friend and she couldn’t possibly love him back. Because that kind of love is scary. And that kind of love could break him. But this, with this nice girl, this is easy and safe and I can do this. And she doesn’t seem like Laura who might use me and manipulate me - she seems like she could trust me and really care about what I think.

She seems safe and nice and lovely.

But she’ll never be the one.

She’ll never be the one when he overhears teenage girls discussing their time in college and asking Nancy what semester she’s in and he hears her pause and he glances over at her because he wants to make sure she’s ok and if he has to step in and say something and deter the conversation to another topic he will. 

Amanda will never be the one in that way.

(shout out to the Nace Private Server we discover exists in this episode)

Fashion Moment

I feel like this episode really shined a light on the three girl’s styles - Bess, George, and Nancy’s outfits really differentiated themselves from each other and maybe its because they worked together this episode and you really got to see that, but I just love when a show focuses on making character’s styles distinct.

Missing Moment Drabble

link to when I wrote a drabble about how the Nace private server would help with the curse...

but also here’s a new one...

[scrivellc]

Could you do the “I was just really really sad” prompt? (I am an Orin was a very depressed adolescent truther)

(Hey, so these prompts are meant to be from the sender's character to me/Orin so I answered it as such, but I did also try to touch on Orin and his big, bad, feelings.)

"No shit, you're sad. You're dead," Orin replied with a grimace, dark brows pushed close together with irritation. The one thing he'd learned about resting in peace throughout this whole ordeal was that there was in in fact very little resting and scarcely any peace. At least, not in his particular corner of the void, which he suspected was not one of the nicer eternities, which was...fair enough. In the darkness other spirits would wallow and loudly lament their fates, crying for pity into the great expanse of nothing. It made Orin want to strangle them, break their damn necks, but what good would that do? They were all already dead, and his desire to do harm had waned the longer he was stuck in this place. So he'd keep his distance until they disappeared back into the inky abyss, leaving him to his brooding. But this weird gray...thing, this thing with hazy, black, spots where Orin figured its eyes should have been had had the nerve to actually speak to him! Or at him...whatever the case it didn't really matter. His whole body had bristled as it had approached, agitated more so than frightened as it invaded his patch of dark. Whatever this vaguely human shaped being was, it was hardly the worst iteration of a spirit he'd come across. He supposed he was lucky. He still looked something like himself, or he figured he did since mirrors didn't seem to cross over into this realm. When he'd reached up to touch his face it was still there, and everything seemed to be in the right place, though the deathly pallor he had seen on his hands had been enough to make him queasy. Normally, he had quite the strong stomach, but it was different when you knew it was you whose skin looked so devoid of life. Plus, not long after he'd arrived to this emptiness, rings of dried blood had appeared around certain joints and around his neck, though he'd done his best not to contemplate too deeply their meaning. It was just too creepy.

Unfortunately, his response must not have been enough because the other spirit was still just standing there. Staring at him. Well, he thought it was staring at him. The lack of eyes was making things pretty difficult. "Look, I don't know what you want from me. You want comfort or something? Sorry, uh...you, but comfort was never something I was good at, and I don't think I'm gonna start now." Still it stood there. Staring even as he took a step back, wanting to put a little more distance between them, though he didn't take his eyes off it. "Jeez, you're persistent. So you said you...'was' sad? Like, past tense? You trying to tell me why you died or something? Got so sad you died?" Orin crudely gestured like he was pulling a noose tight, even going so far as to stick out his tongue. But not even that got any real response. "I mean, I guess I get it, but who isn't sad? Everyone's sad, kid. You're just born that way, and your parents don't help. You know, that's just being human. You're sad, and then you get older, and you get angry. You realize all the things that made you sad, well...you're big enough and mad enough to fight 'em, so you do." He clenched his hands into fists, raising them up as if about to throw a punch. "So it goes...sad enough to want to die, mad enough to want to hurt, angry enough that you hurt everyone around you..." Orin was surprised by how much he kept talking, but...well, he couldn't tell how long it had been since he talked to someone. Or something? Time passed so strangely here, as far as he knew he could have been dead for years. What way was there to mark the passage of time. Maybe that's the reason he couldn't make himself stop. "And after you're angry...after you're angry you...I don't really know. Guess I never got to the part where you stop being angry...or when you stop being sad. Figures I'd be sad for eternity. It fucking figures." Orin sighed, rubbing the back of his back of his neck, feeling the dried blood beneath his fingertips. "Sorry...I don't got any sorta satisfying story to tell. Most people's lives aren't satisfying...I just had sorta hoped after everything mine would be. That success and distance would be enough to make me happy, but I guess I didn't get far enough."

[the-scandalorian]

Tempered Glass: Chapter 7

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader Rating: M (will become explicit) Word Count: 5.5k Warnings: slow burn, canon-typical violence, cursing, pining, Din in suspenders, fluff Summary: Din takes a job with his old crew, and you and the kid wait for him on Arvala-7. Notes: Sorry this took me forever!

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Image from The Art of Star Wars: The Mandalorian

After you left the atmosphere of Tatooine and jumped into hyperspace, Din swiveled his chair around to face you in the copilot’s seat.

“I should take a job. Everything we made went to Peli, and I don’t like being low on credits. There’s a crew I used to run with...I can reach out to them...” he hesitated then added, “but you and the kid can’t come with me.”

“What do you mean I can’t come with you?”

He sighed, shoulders dropping. “I mean, I don’t trust them enough for you and the kid to come.”

“If you don’t trust them, wouldn’t it be better to have backup?”

“I just—,” he looked away, “I don’t want them to know either of you exist.”

“If you don’t trust them, should you be taking a job with them?”

“We don’t have a lot of options.”

“I could get work somewhere. We could go somewhere safe enough for a few weeks. There are some places where I have contacts, and non-bounty hunting work is usually less conspicuous.”

“I don’t think we should stay anywhere that long right now.”

“But—”

“I’ll feel better if you and the kid are safe together.”

“I—”

When he bowed his head in a silent appeal, your determination crumbled.

“Ugh, fine.”

He sighed in relief, reaching out to rest his hand on your knee briefly. His touch was reassuring.

“But, just so you know, this is only going to work once, so don’t think that my staying back with the kid is going to be a regular thing.”

He removed his hand and turned back around to face the viewport.

“I am taking your silence as tacit agreement,” you said to the back of his helmet.

He chose to ignore that, fiddling with the controls instead.

***

Now that you’d both admitted you wanted to stay together, abandoning the pretense of strategy and convenience all together, things were a little off between you and Din. Neither of you were used to being vulnerable, so conversations were slightly stunted again. You found yourself being overly polite, and Din was doing the same.

That first night back on the Crest, he offered you his bunk.

“I’m not taking your bed. You need it to take off your helmet.”

Besides the unshakable lingering chill of the hull, sleeping there wasn’t that bad. You usually slept with every sweater you owned on and that kept you warm enough.

“Use it when I’m not. You shouldn't have to sleep on the floor.”

“Sure, thanks,” you agreed, knowing you’d never take him up on that. You didn’t want to be on a different sleep schedule than he and the kid.

You did try to nap with the kid in Din’s bunk the next day because there wasn’t all that much to do in hyperspace. As soon as you lay down, though, you knew it was a mistake. First of all, it was crazy uncomfortable (somehow not better than the literal floor and the close walls made it slightly claustrophobic), and second—and far more importantly—it smelled overwhelmingly like Din. It smelled like his pine-y soap and beskar and blaster residue and leather and whatever else made up his infuriatingly good scent. It conjured images of crackling fires and golden skin and warm embraces and taut muscles.

Shit.

There was no chance you were going to be able to fall sleep when all you could think about was him.

The kid, on the other hand, was snoozing contentedly beside you. When you’d fully given up on napping, you edged your way out the bunk carefully, doing your best not to wake him.

Din was sitting in the hull on a long crate against the wall, cleaning his blaster, the pieces spread out next to him. Usually, when you were in the hull at the same time, you’d find a place across from him. Instead, you purposefully sat next to him, drawing your knees up to your chest and leaning against the wall.

You decided you were going to push through this awkward phase and make things not weird right there, right then. And you were going to do that the best way you knew how.

He tilted his helmet toward you momentarily then refocused on the blaster in his hand.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yes,” he said, running a rag along the barrel.

“How does one develop a catchphrase? Does it happen organically or is there an iterative brainstorming process?”

Din paused, sighing dramatically, set his blaster and the rag down next to him, and pushed himself back until he was also leaning against the metal wall. His helmet clunked slightly as he relaxed it back. “This is the way is not a catchphrase. It’s a tenet of the Creed.”

“And ‘I can bring you in warm or I can bring you in cold’ is also a tenet of the Creed?”

He lolled his helmet to the side, looking down at you. “Okay, fine, that one isn’t,” he conceded.

“So you admit it—you have at least one catchphrase that you regularly use on bounties.” You smirked up at him.

Without missing a beat, Din fixed you with that unreadable visor and quipped: “I’ve been told I have a sexy voice. I’m just giving the people what they want.”

Your jaw dropped, a shocked laugh echoing through the hull. You had planned on teasing him and had not expected him to turn it around on you so smoothly.

“Uh... I was sort of hoping we’d stick to our unspoken agreement to not bring up the stupid things I said when I was drunk.” You looked down at your hands, suddenly unable to meet his gaze.

“Oh, definitely not.”

You looked back up. “Alright, well then in the name of fairness, we’re going to have to get you really drunk the next time the opportunity presents itself, so we can see what embarrassing things you say.”

He paused for a moment, considering, then said, “Does that mean you’ll carry me home?”

You cracked a smile, nodding vigorously. “Of course. That would only be fair.”

A warm laugh rasped through the modulator. You crossed your ankles in front of you, letting your knee rest against the cold beskar on this thigh.

“I feel skeptical of that promise.” He dropped a gloved hand to your knee.

“Okay, okay I can’t promise to carry you home, but I can promise to tie your shoe if needed.”

“My boots don’t have laces.” He lifted a foot off the ground to show you.

You shrugged playfully: “Well, that’s not my fault.”

“This doesn’t sound like a very good deal for me. I tied your shoe and carried you home.”

“To be fair, both were against my will.”

“But necessary.”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Okay, okay, I can’t carry you, and I can’t tie your shoe... so I’ll...,” you bit your lip as you fished around for something else to offer, “...hold your hand? And not let anyone tickle you.”

He huffed and rubbed his thumb over your knee: “I’m not ticklish.”

You pursed your lips. “Right, sure, of course not. My mistake.”

He harrumphed. “Can I ask you something now?”

“I’ll allow it,” you intoned seriously.

“Where are you actually from?”

“Naboo. Most of my back story was true—I just left out the one major detail.”

“Your favorite color?” he deadpanned.

You laughed. “Yes, exactly. What about you? Where are you from?”

“Aq Vetina.”

You waited, hoping he’d elaborate.

“When my parents died there, I was rescued by the Mandalorians and raised in the Fighting Corps.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, placing your hand over his and squeezing gently. “That sounds like a tough life for a child.”

“It was all I knew,” he explained, shifting slightly.

“Still, that can’t have been easy. It makes sense that you couldn’t leave the kid.”

“Yeah,” he said quietly, solemnly. There was a tension in his shoulders that hadn’t been there moments ago.

“Less serious question,” you replied, changing the subject to something lighter.

“Okay.” He relaxed a little.

“Why don’t you ever use a straw to drink with your helmet on?”

“These are the things you think about?” he laughed. His laugh was usually a quiet, muffled sound through the modulator, but it was getting easier to pick up on it. “There’s a seal on the helmet, otherwise the filters wouldn’t work,” he tapped the release on the side of his head. “So a straw isn’t a possibility, unfortunately.”

“Mmm,” you responded, “that is disappointing.”

He gripped your thigh lightly, turning toward you. “I, uh, heard back about the job... while you were asleep. It’s a go.”

“Ah... great. I was kind of hoping you wouldn’t hear back.”

“I know. It will be fine.”

“Okay... So, any ideas for where the kid and I should stay?”

To your surprise, Din explained that he had a trusted friend on Arvala-7. When you agreed to the plan, he disappeared to the cockpit to set the nav—a two-day trip.

***

That same evening, you discovered a new favorite activity on the Crest. Before bed, the kid was being particularly fussy, so you pulled out your data pad and downloaded the first children’s book you could find. It worked liked a charm.

From then on, it became a daily routine: you’d read to him until his eyelids drooped before his nap and before bedtime. Regardless of his mood, listening to you read seemed to soothe him. You’d pull him into your lap and settle onto your stack of blankets against the wall. He’d watch your face, enraptured, as you relayed story after story to him. His favorite—the story that elicited the most chirps and grabby motions and ear wiggles—centered on a family of frogs. You revisited that one at least once a day, sometimes more if he was grouchy.

You weren’t sure how to feel about his hyperfixation on that particular story given his appetite for frogs.

At this rate, your digital library was going to be largely children’s books. You didn’t mind.

You noticed that Din would find something to do in the hull while you read. The first couple times, he sat and cleaned one of his many weapons or sewed a hole in his flight suit. Very quickly, he stopped bothering with an ostensible task and would just sit and listen.

When you were still 15 hours out from Arvala-7, Din was seated on his usual crate in the hull, the one next to the weapons cabinet, as you finished the final page of a particularly thrilling story about a snail. The kid was snoring softly in your arms, so you clicked off your datapad, and got up to settle him in his hammock for his mid-day nap.

“You’re good with him.” Din was leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.

“I guess,” you shrugged, snapping the door to Din’s bunk shut and turning back to him. “I just think about what I liked as a kid. I loved when my parents would read to me.”

He nodded, helmet trained on the floor between his boots.

“I’m sorry—” you started, realizing how that must have sounded to Din.

He looked up and cut you off. “Don’t be. It’s nice for him to have some normal kid experiences.”

“You know what he’d really love?”

“What?”

“If you read to him.”

He dipped his helmet slightly in acknowledgement, rolling his shoulders back at the same time like he was uncomfortable agreeing with that.

Several hours later, you pulled Din down next to you in your normal pre-bedtime story time spot. He had the kid in his arms. You switched on your datapad and toggled through the catalog of books you’d downloaded, all of which had colorful covers and silly, whimsical titles, until you found the frog book.

“Here,” you offered, passing it over to him.

You leaned your head back against the wall and closed your eyes, listening to Din’s serious, even voice narrate the heartwarming hijinks of a family of frogs. The kid cooed and babbled along.

To your (and the kid’s) utter delight, Din’s rendition slowly evolved into a full-on dramatic reading, complete with sound effects and slightly different voices for each character, as he leaned into whatever prompted the most enthusiastic responses from the kid. You kept your eyes closed and said nothing, worried that if you drew attention to this new development, he’d get self-conscious and stop. You couldn’t help from smiling a little though.

When the story came to its conclusion, you opened your eyes. Din was scrolling through the library of options, browsing for the next book. “What do you think? Which one next?” You looked at him, but he wasn’t asking you. The kid let out a string of gibberish, pointing with a teeny finger. Din read out the titles of several options, selecting the one that triggered the most animated trill.

As Din began the story, he shifted until his body was flush with yours. The places where his beskar made contact with you were cold, even through the fabric of your clothes, but you didn’t mind.

By the time Din finished the second book, the kid was displaying the telltale signs—drooping ears and unfocused eyes—that bedtime had arrived.

Din handed you the datapad and stood to tuck the kid into bed.

As he shut the door to his bunk, you said, “I think you just put me out of a job.”

He scoffed, but you could tell he was pleased.

***

As you got more comfortable around each other, Din took to walking around without his armor—beside his helmet—on. Most of the time, he’d even leave his gloves off. He wore either a flight suit that zipped up the middle or a black shirt and pants...with suspenders. The first few times, it was jarring to see him like that, without his armor. He looked wrong. It was like seeing a turtle without its shell... but if turtles were sexy.

The first time he emerged from his bunk with the suspenders hanging loosely by his sides, you stopped dead, mouth hanging open. He tilted his helmet sharply at you: “What?”

“You sometimes wear suspenders under your armor?”

“...Yes?”

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you and the goofy grin that spread across your face.

“What?” he prompted again, shoulders pulling up toward his neck.

“I just really wasn’t expecting that,” you laughed.

“What were you expecting?” The playful note in his voice left you flustered. He took a step closer, much more relaxed now that he was the one doing the teasing. He was getting too good at flipping things on you.

Instead of answering—because you were not about to address the fact that you had absolutely thought about what he wore under his armor—you strode up to him and pulled the suspenders over his shoulders. He stood uncomfortably still, arms hanging awkwardly by his sides.

“What are you doing?” He looked down at his shirt then back up at you.

“I just want to get the full picture.” You looked him up and down.

“Thought about this a lot, have you?” He quirked his helmet down at you suggestively. It was only the second time you’d gotten that particular flavor of head tilt, and you...didn’t hate it. It made your neck feel hot. You disregarded the intense desire to grab him by the suspenders and jerk him toward you.

Instead, you narrowed your eyes at him, enjoying this new bold flirtation. Without looking away from his visor, you hooked a finger through one of the suspenders and pulled it out a couple inches, letting it snap back against him.

“Ow.” He stated it so matter-of-factly that it obviously hadn’t hurt, but for dramatic effect, he rubbed the spot on his chest where it hit him.

“You’ll survive,” you assured him, patting his shoulder and brushing past him to climb the ladder to the cockpit. When you sat down in the pilot’s seat and kicked your feet up to rest on the console, you still had a smile on your face.

***

A few hours later, you were seated in the copilot seat with the child held tightly in your lap as the Razor Crest descended through the atmosphere of Arvala-7. On the way, Din shared how he’d met this friend—he had helped Din when he was originally tracking down the child months ago.

However, when you asked what his friend’s name was, Din said he didn’t know. Honestly, you weren’t even that surprised. Just exasperated.

Din told you the details of when he tracked down the child, including the assassin droid he'd crossed paths with. He explained how he’d teamed up with IG-11, but in the end, he had to destroy the droid to protect the kid. The anger in his voice was raw when he described watching IG-11 point his blaster at the child.

As the dusty, cracked surface of the planet came into view, you asked, “Is that what caused your thing with droids?”

“What thing?”

“Din.”

He was silent for a long moment.

“Droids destroyed my home planet, killed my parents. They’re the reason I was a foundling as a child.”

His words washed over you, and your heart dropped. You leaned forward in your seat to put a hand on his shoulder. He stayed perfectly still, helmet trained on the controls in front of him.

“I’m sorry.”

He nodded stiffly and reached up to squeeze your hand briefly.

“We’re about to land.”

You took that as a cue to drop the subject for now.

***

You and Din, the kid in his arms, approached a small collection of low structures. You swept your eyes across the uniform landscape—all was dry and sienna and flat. The Ugnaught’s homestead was the only sign of habitation in sight. The buildings were brown and domed, and windmills creaked slowly in the warm breeze. Three blurrgs in a large corral watched you balefully.

“Mandalorian!” the Ugnaught greeted, emerging from the door of his low home.

“Ugnaught,” Din replied with a nod.

“I did not think I would see you here again. What business brings you back to Arvala-7?”

“I was hoping that my friends could stay with you for a couple nights—I’ll pay you for the lodging.”

Of course he'd refer to me and a literal infant as his "friends."

You introduced yourself, offering your hand.

The Ugnaught bowed his head slightly as he clasped your hand: “It is nice to make your acquaintance. I am Kuill.”

At least Din knows his name now.

Kuill turned back to Din. “The child remains in your care,” he observed.

“Yes,” said Din, offering no explanation. He set the child down on the ground, and he toddled his way slowly over to Kuill.

Kuill scooped up the baby, and he chirruped happily, reaching toward his whiskery mustache.

“It hasn’t grown much.”

“I think it might be a Strand-Cast.”

You shot Din a skeptical look. He’d never shared this particular theory of his with you.

“I don’t think it was engineered. I’ve worked in the gene farms. This one looks evolved. Too ugly,” mused Kuill.

You raised your eyebrows at the frankness of his statement. He is not ugly.

“Your friends are welcome to stay with me. No payment will be necessary. I have spoken.” Kuill turned and headed back inside without so much as a backward glance.

“I insist,” Din said to his back.

Kuill disappeared into his home.

Din turned to you: “He does that. Just ends a conversation like that.”

“I understand why the two of you get along so well. Men of few words.” You raised an eyebrow at him.

Din nodded, reinforcing your point inadvertently.

You and Din stepped closer to each other at the same time. For the first time, you let the concern you were feeling color your features.

“I’ll be back in three days, if not sooner.”

He was padding his timeline in response to the worry that was etched across your face. You knew Din could defend himself—that wasn’t your fear. It was that, whether he liked to admit it or not, he occasionally let trust blind him. The irony of that wasn’t lost on you, considering how long it had taken for him to trust you. This was the trademark paradox of Din. He was loath to fully let people in, but he had a tendency to take people at face value and assume they would keep their word—because he always kept his word. He had a surprisingly generous worldview for someone with such a violent profession and brutal past.

Din reached down to grab something small that was tucked in his belt—the metal ball from one of the controls in the cockpit that the kid loved to play with. He occasionally pretended to be irritated whenever he wanted to play with it, but you knew he found it endearing.

He handed it to you. “He’ll want that.”

You smiled and nodded, looking at the sphere in your palm. Din raised a hand to your chin and tilted your face back up to his.

Do we... hug? He doesn’t seem like a hugger.

So instead, you offered, “Be careful, okay?”

“I will,” he promised. He stayed there for a moment longer, looking at you and rubbing his thumb along your cheek. Before you could decide if you should also try to hug him, he turned abruptly to walk back to the Crest.

You stayed and watched him as he walked the distance back to the ship and disappeared up the ramp. You stayed and watched as the Razor Crest rumbled to life and took off. You stayed and watched as it ascended through the atmosphere and vanished from view.

***

It was a relief to be off the ship for a few days—even if Arvala-7 wasn’t exactly your ideal planet. It would be a treat to eat real food, instead of shelf-stable ration packs, and to have more than the limited space of the ship to move around in... not to mention an actual bed.

Kuill was a kind and welcoming host. He offered you his spare room, where you placed your things, and you sat down for tea together in his small kitchen.

“How did you come to be in the company of the Mandalorian and the child?”

“I guess he has a soft spot for people who are wanted by the Empire?” you chuckled, and Kuill nodded somberly. “Now, we’re just helping each other out.” You weren’t really sure how else to explain it.

Kuill didn’t press you anymore than that, nodding sagely. Instead, while you sipped your tea with the kid on your lap, he told you about his background—decades of indentured servitude to the Empire before he worked off his debt and bought his freedom—in the solemn, frugal way that was clearly characteristic of the Ugnaught. You understood why Din trusted him: he was forthright, calm, wise.

“What can I help you with while I’m here?” you asked, already anxious to find something to occupy your time.

“You are my guest. You do not need to do any work.”

“I would be happy to,” you insisted. “I would rather be busy. I can help with cleaning or repairs—whatever you need. My formal training was in programming, but I’ve picked up general skills along the way.”

Kuill nodded and said, “Come.”

He turned and walked out of his house. You set down your tea on the table and followed him, the child tucked in the crook of your elbow, happily clutching the silver ball. Kuill stopped in front of the workstation that was a short distance from his doorway. Tools and wiring and various speeder parts were arranged on and around a long workbench and a collection of smaller tables and shelves. The circular backdrop of the workbench was the repurposed window of a TIE fighter.

An assassin droid was laid across the tabletop.

“Is this the droid that Mando shot?”

“I believe so, yes. It was left behind, in the Mandalorian’s wake of destruction. I found it lying where it fell—devoid of all life. I recovered the flotsam and staked it as my own in accordance with the Charter of the New Republic. Little remains of its neural harness. Reconstruction will be quite difficult.”

“What are your plans for it?”

“To convert it from an assassin droid to something more useful: a protocol and nurse droid.”

You nodded. “Handy.”

“I will have to reconstruct the neural harness, and then it will have to relearn every function from scratch. It will be a blank slate on which to program something nurturing instead of destructive. You may help me restore him if you would like.”

“Of course.”

The two of you got to work.

***

That night, when you lay down to sleep, you tossed and turned. The child was snuggled in a makeshift crib next to your bed. You found yourself sitting up periodically to check on him. Every time you checked on him, he was sleeping soundly.

Eventually, you slipped out of your bed, tiptoed quietly through the house, and walked out into the cold, clear night. You walked aimlessly for a while, circling the corral of blurrgs. They were asleep, eyes shut tight, standing in a close clump. Then you turned to head out across the open plain and watch the stars through the thin veil of clouds that dusted the sky.

You were starting to regret that you hadn’t pushed harder to go with Din. He was with a whole team of people who sounded untrustworthy at best, malicious at worst. You couldn’t help but think of all the things you should have said to him before he left. You hadn’t even hugged him.

It was freaking you out a little just how attached you were to a man who you’d known for a couple months.

You walked until the chill of the night air became too much, then turned back.

In the morning, you sat at Kuill’s kitchen table again, feeding the child. Kuill moved around the small food prep area, pulling together breakfast and making tea.

You followed Kuill as he went about his daily jobs, caring for the blurrgs, doing routine maintenance, and continuing the work on IG-11.

You were sweating in the sun, hands covered in grease, concentrating on refitting a damaged arm joint when Kuill’s calm voice brought you out of your train of thought.

“It is curious that the Mandalorian elected to keep the child.”

You looked up at him. “He secretly has a soft heart,” you said, smiling to yourself.

“Yes, that much is clear, but he is also set in his beliefs, and this choice went against the Guild Code. What is curious is that such a small being could inspire a change of heart in such a rigid person.”

You considered his words.

“I... think he was just waiting to find a greater purpose than hunting, to find someone to love, you know? It comes naturally to him, but I don’t think he’d ever had the chance.”

Kuill hummed thoughtfully. “Is that not what we are all doing—looking for a greater purpose?”

“I guess?” You shrugged.

“And have you?”

“Have I what?” you asked, wiping a bead of sweat off your forehead.

“Have you found the greater purpose you were looking for?”

You considered for a moment then said, “Well... I found a purpose a long time ago, when I joined the Alliance, and since then, I’ve been too busy trying to escape the wrath of the Empire to really think about what’s next in the larger sense... Staying alive has been the main priority.”

Kuill hummed again, glancing over at the kid. “You weren’t looking for something greater, but it appears to have found you.”

“I...,” you started. You watched the child, who was siting on the hard ground admiring the silver ball clutched in his hand. “I’m not sure.”

“I have spoken,” said Kuill, bowing his head, and he lapsed back into silence.

You watched the kid as he dropped the ball and staggered to his feet, squealing excitedly as he chased a lizard that darted past him. You wondered where Din was at this exact moment, and your heart squeezed in a familiar way.

***

The second night was much like the first. You walked outside for some time, thinking of all the awful things that could be happening to Din.

What if they turn on him?

What if another hunter finds him?

What if he doesn’t come back?

It wasn't a crazy thought. You were used to people not coming back.

Until that moment, you hadn't considered that you'd be the sole guardian of the kid if Din didn't return. For a split second, you felt the crushing weight of responsibility for the life and safety and happiness of the tiny green child that Din must feel at all times.

Eventually you fell into a fitful sleep, waking early, and the day dawned bright and cold. As the sun climbed, the chill rapidly dissipated, making way for a dry heat that seemed to be the only weather condition on Arvala-7.

You spent the morning helping Kuill continue the repairs on IG-11. You did your best to not count the hours that slipped by. He’d said it could take three days, so there was no reason to be concerned yet.

But... did he mean he would return ON the third day? Or the fourth day?

And for that matter... did the day he left count as day one? Or was yesterday day one?

Did he mean seventy-two hours from the time he left? Or that he’d be back at the start of the third day?

How did I not clarify this before he left??

That evening, you were in deep in discussion about artificial intelligence when Kuill said, “I believe your Mandalorian has returned to you.” He pointed behind you, and you whipped around to see the Crest touching down in a cloud of dust in the distance.

“Will you—?” you asked, turning back to Kuill.

“I will watch the child.” He seemed vaguely amused by your enthusiasm.

You sprang to your feet and walked as fast as you could toward the Crest. You briefly considered running, but that felt dramatic. He’d only been gone a couple days.

Why did he land so fucking far away?

You’d made it about half the distance when the ramp of the Crest finally began to lower with a hiss. Your resolve snapped, and you started to jog. Din descended the ramp, and you were so relieved to see him that you weren’t even embarrassed anymore that you were literally running to him.

Din cocked his head—a curious head tilt—when he saw you sprinting at him across the dusty ground. He paused at the bottom of the ramp.

“Are you—?” he started to say as you crashed into his chest and wrapped your arms around him. He barely budged upon impact.

His shoulders relaxed immediately, and he pulled you tight against him.

Well, if he wasn’t a hugger before, he is now.

“I’m okay,” he reassured you.

“Good,” you said into the fabric bunched around his neck.

After a moment, you released him and stepped back, the steadying weight of his hands remaining on your arms. He looked like he was in one piece, but the slight heaviness in his shoulders told you that the job had taken a toll on him.

“I, uh, missed you too,” he said, a little awkwardly.

You smiled at him and took his gloved hand in yours to walk back towards Kuill’s home. You felt slightly giddy that you were casually holding the Mandalorian’s hand. He seemed taken by it too, his helmet tilted down to where your fingers were intertwined.

“The kid?” he asked, looking up to your face.

“He’s good. Misses you, I think. Ate several frogs. And one lizard. The usual. He is disgusting,” you laughed.

Din made a sound that you would almost swear was a snort. “Yeah, he is,” he agreed fondly.

Kuill was waiting outside his home, the child in his arms. When you and Din were close, Kuill set him down, and the baby tottered over to wrap his tiny arms around Din’s calf.

You watched as Din bent stiffly, slowly to pick up the kid.

“You’re hurt,” you realized.

“I'm fine,” he said.

You felt sure that wasn’t true, but you let it be for the moment.

“Thank you,” Din addressed Kuill. He reached into the pouch of his belt for credits.

“I will not accept payment,” Kuill insisted, shaking his head. “In fact, your friend here helped me make great progress on my current project.” Kuill raised his eyebrows at you.

“Very well,” Din acquiesced.

You gathered your things and said your thank yous and goodbyes, returning to the Crest, which—with a jolt—you realized was already starting to feel like home.

***

Chapter 8

***

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