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lovecolibri · 2 years

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SaL anon here friend back to bitch some more in your inbox if you don't mind (if you're tired of the negativity please ignore). So here's the thing I hate about the whole cheating storyline, which ties in with your disappointment over us losing the satisfying breakup we were hoping for. It's really the deception with TayKay after that got me, whatever I may think of her character. We not too long ago saw Buck give Eddie an impassioned speech at being on the end of relationship where TBC

he was the person more invested, and how heartbreaking that was, a confession that pushed Eddie to breakup with Ana, in part so he wouldn't cause the same hurt (that Buck had gone through). Now, instead of getting Buck doing the same thing (stopping things before people really get hurt and choosing himself) he can only get the reverse. Buck must realize he's not that attached to TayKay, that he's not happy in the relationship if he's kissing someone else, HE'S not invested. Now, after half of season of Buck trying his best, to his detriment, to make things work, of making those sacrifices and us having to watch him being miserable, it's instantly undone by him lying and doubling down how invested he is in the relationship by asking her to move in. HE is now the person causing that pain he so intensely warned Eddie against causing, and it makes no fucking sense why he would do that!!! It's a selfish choice in all the worst ways that Buck as a character is not!! And no, I don't buy the argument "but Buck is spiraling", so was Eddie when he broke things off with Ana (and he continues to) but he still was prompted in part by the idea of hurting someone long term. Buck has been in that position, I just can't comprehend him actively doing it to avoid an awkward confession. Anyway, the whole thing feels like a cheap attempt to garner sympathy for the reporter (who's leaving anyway??) at the expense of Buck's personal growth.

Hello my friend! You are always welcome to air your grievances in my inbox! I was going to do this yesterday, but my niece was in town for a visit and at almost 5, she has more energy than I have ever had across my entire life combined. 🤣 Also I started this one first but VERY quickly lost the thread and became a rambling incoherent mess so I had to simmer down and answer some other things and get my thoughts in order.

Absolutely YES to all of this. Remember back in season 1 when a bunch of girls accused Buck of cheating and everyone shrugged and Buck was so hurt that the people he loved and respected would think he would ever do something like that? Remember nine episodes ago where Buck flat out told Eddie that just "sticking it out" with Ana wasn't enough for Eddie, and wasn't fair to Ana? But please tell me again how his spiraling manages to turn him into a completely different person than the narrative has told us he is for the past 4.5 seasons. 🙄

As with RNM, an argument can always be made for why a character would do something they did. It's a natural response to want to make sense out of the narrative! And for the people who have found their peace with it, good for them, cope however you need to! But given what we know about KR, her attitudes and what she prioritizes, the argument can also be made that this particular moment of cheating isn't some masterclass in storytelling, but a petty showrunner making a play for cheap drama, and also making her pet-project character that everyone hated look sympathetic, while also working in Female Version of Buck 2.0 to throw at him seeing if this one sticks. (Spoiler alert, it won’t. The GA already hate her more than they did tay kay because while she was just mean to their beloved fave, this one made him a cheater. (don’t @ me, I’m not saying she MADE him cheat, but her character’s purpose was to make him into a cheater))

Look. I've said it several times (at least in tags, but probably in some posts too. My brain is still soup, but it's like....furiously boiling soup 🤷‍♀️) that I don't like and probably never will, how this storyline started. Just because the argument can be manipulated to make some kind of sense, doesn't automatically make it good or good storytelling. An argument could be made that when Maddie left, Chim got upset and and then met some new single mom at a mommy and me playdate thing and started a fling with a random woman in his heartbreak before Buck found out where Maddie was and Chim went to look for her. Because he's spiraling right? So he might do something that seems OOC, but it's fine because it's part of the trauma spiral! 🙃 Again, something you would expect to see on any other run-of-the-mill procedural show because that's the max level of *drama* packed into the storyline, but that wouldn't be true to Chim's character, and it wouldn't be good storytelling.

It's the same with this cheating thing with Buck, and I'm soooo angry, because if he had broken up with his gf and THEN kissed the new lady before panic leaving because he doesn't want to be Buck 1.0 again? Only to have her show up as the new replacement that he now has to work with? And Hen knows and spends the whole time teasing him, and it's a little awkward but falls on the fun side of soapy drama? I could have enjoyed that! I mean, I'd still be hardcore 🙄🙄🙄 and side-eyeing the writers for him getting to make out with Eddie's female counterpart because non-gay men and non-lesbian women cannot work together without banging it out at least once 🙄 but in the context of the show I wouldn't mind them sharing scenes and things being a little awkward. How many fics are there where Buck and Eddie meet and hook up and then, surprise! Eddie is the new recruit! And it’s awkward! Again, a little side eye at the writers, but overall a fun trope!

But now? With the cheating AND the lying about the cheating? (which, JAIL for the writers for dragging Hen into that mess without a firm “definitely yes always honesty” policy) All their scenes are going to be gross and cringe and unenjoyable. Plus if KR and AK are to be believed, she's going to pull an Eddie and fit right in with everyone, impressing them, teaming up with Bobby to tease Buck and KR is pushing to have her and her whole cop family brought around for season 6 which....I can't even talk about because my blood pressure is already high enough. The point is, instead of getting Lena 2.0 with some fun scenes (her face during the grocery store fight slays me every time as does her question to Eddie about her cat only to be like "I don't have a cat, you bumbling imbecile."), and her pushing Buck to be more and more reckless until something bad finally happens and Bobby has to intervene, it's apparently per AK going to all be "sexual tension" and her comforting Buck in his time of need and a whole lot of other bullshit we could all do without.

It's absolutely cheap drama by a writer and showrunner who has clear priorities (rando white women hooking up with Buck > literally anything else), and who doesn't see the value in important conversations. Because Tim is the one who wrote and included the Will scene and the scene where Buck goes to talk to Chris after he leaves the hospital, and she’s out here saying the will isn't important and won't come up again (meaning the shooting likely isn't something on her radar to discuss either even though it's like...THEE elephant in the room), and saying Buck and Chim talked it out off screen (though the last we saw was Chim still being pissy and not quite ready to forgive so IDK what the fuck she's talking about), and cutting scenes like Bobby/Chim and Eddie/Chim (but there was only so much of the reporter because they didn't have enough cast and needed someone cheap to fill in don't you know? Don't tell that to all the Ghost Stories footage on the cutting room floor). It’s just....it’s A Lot, and I don’t think it’s fair to hate on people pointing out that while this narrative CAN lead to something interesting, it didn’t have to be this way and it’s not the best choice they could have made, because we know that one of the people in charge right now is Like That.

ANYWAY. I have another ask from someone else that is about the narrative satisfaction of the breakup and the one we DIDN’T get satisfaction out of in RNM so stay tuned for something real salty coming up probably tomorrow.

As always, it is a JOY to have you in my inbox 😘 Come spill the tea any time!

#my sweet nonnie friends #sleeping at last anon #911 #911 spoilers #evan buckley #anti bucklucy #god it really is 🚗 all over again isn't it?#timmy! come collect your og show #it's going off the rails

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carpisuns · 3 years

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do you ever get discouraged by social media? like the fact that a lot of interactions can never go beyond the surface level since you won't get to meet a lot of people irl or the fact that numbers seem to matter so much to how others perceive you? hope this isn't too heavy, just curious to hear your thoughts

hey, sorry it's taken me so long to get back to this! but yes, i definitely know what you mean. social media can be a strange and disheartening space to be in because it's all about perception and not often about truly knowing someone. we all kind of have a version of ourselves that we put out there for the world to see, and it's not necessarily a completely false image, but it's also not the full picture, you know? and in a fandom space like this one, it's mostly built around a single interest or group of interest, which is great for surface-level bonding with people but not necessarily for a deeper relationship. so it can feel hard to build truly meaningful friendships sometimes.

i've been fortunate tho to meet some amazing people online that i now consider some of my dearest friends and closest confidants. it started with bonding over a shared interest, but then we found that we had more in common and started sharing things outside of that one interest and talking about our lives and supporting each other in both our hard times and good times. i feel really blessed and lucky to have these friends in my life, whether we ever get the chance to meet in person or not.

i'm not sure if you're actually looking for advice about this, but if you are, mine would be to just be kind and positive and enjoy interacting with people, and that may naturally lead to deeper friendship. that's how it's worked for me, at least. kinda depends on what your vibe is and how you prefer to interact online but i've made friends by sending asks/messages to people to let them know how much I enjoy their work and by hanging out in discord servers to chat about fandom stuff as well as general-interest stuff. might be a good place to start!

and as for numbers, yeah, that can be frustrating too! i'll be totally honest—i used to care way too much about numbers. at one point it lowkey became an obsession for me 😩 i'd be constantly checking to see how many followers i had and how much attention my posts were getting and i got too invested in watching the numbers go up and too frustrated when they would stagnate and most of all just too focused on comparing my following with other people's. it was especially bad on instagram bc everyone's follower count is on public display and art tends to get a lot more attention there, so i grew way faster and i also watched other people grow at like breakneck speed and leave me in the dust and i would get jealous,,,woof.

but there came a point when i realized that my focus on numbers was not healthy or enjoyable for me and it was making my fandom experience stressful and bitter rather than fun and chill. so i took a little break for a few weeks and really tried to gain some perspective with it all and it helped loads!! i mean i won't say i don't care about numbers at all anymore haha but they definitely don't have the same hold on me. my growth both here and on instagram has slowed down a lot but i honestly don't mind at all and actually may find that preferable haha. idk im just satisfied and comfortable where i am and what i find most fulfilling in fandom is my friendships and my interactions with other fans, not really the individual attention that I get. it's been nice to take the pressure off myself and not worry about performance and instead just kinda vibe lol. like i used to stress when I didn't post new art for a week, but now i just make stuff when i want to and let myself take my time and post when i'm ready instead of rushing out of some self-imposed sense of obligation.

i totally get people's desire to grow a bigger platform, especially creators who have professional ambitions, and it's awesome to celebrate with them when they hit milestones. but i hope that no matter where any of us are, we remember that our worth is not determined by our online following. and also that we are all just regular people with blogs! I think there's a tendency to treat bigger names in the fandom as like pseudo-celebrities or something (i've definitely been guilty of that ), but at the end of the day we're all just big nerds who like talking about a cartoon lol. it's nice when we can all just support each other and share content and discuss ideas and stuff without making people feel unduly pressured bc their following (like putting them on a pedestal, demanding a greater output of content, etc.) or making them feel lesser because of their lack of one. fandom is about community, not competition, and your contributions are valuable even if they get less attention that someone else's!

ok i feel like i've just rambled a lot, sorry lol idk if any of this was actually meaningful/helpful to you but i wish you the best and hope you feel less discouraged about this! 💜

#anon #ask

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bereft-of-frogs · 3 years

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I always find it odd how broadly speaking, MCU things do well with gen audiences, like Loki got the highest critical scores out of the three MCU shows so far but then for each project there seems to be some really passionate hate too from certain internet corners. Like, I heard someone say Black Widow was awful and I'm like... really?... awful?

Presuming this ask is from me talking last night about I wish the Loki series was the worst show I’ve ever seen, because god I’ve watched some bad shows - Black Widow certainly had its flaws and I wouldn’t count it in the top of the MCU by any means, but again, good god I wish it were the worst movie I’d seen this year alone.

I think the reason general audiences rate these things higher is contextual. Most general audiences go in knowing roughly what they’re going to get out of a high budget tentpole film. They’re going in expected to be entertained and not expecting to have to really think so much so they’re largely satisfied because their expectations have generally been met. Good rating. Boom. Done. And then they don’t think about it until they’re looking for the next thing to do on date night.

The two groups of people who hate these films loudly, consistently, vocally tend to be: the people who think Marvel is ruining all of film and culture and is a moral blight on the world because people aren’t watching Citizen Kane anymore or something. That was a pretty extreme generalization of their viewpoint, I’m sorry haha, and they do have half a point - Disney is fast reaching a terrifying monopoly status in the industry, and their distribution model is really hurting smaller cinemas, and it’s hard to get started as a filmmaker nowadays, just to name a few problems with how dominant they’ve become. But also no, you, individual moviegoer who just wants to watch some pretty people fight each other with good special effects, are not responsible for the death of all culture, and also these people are around for every mass popular phenomenon and surely will be to the end of time.

The second group is the diehard fans who are constantly analyzing and building up expectations, sometimes for years, and are disappointed when those expectations aren’t met, even if otherwise the thing is well constructed. These are people with a personal investment and possibly some...unrealistic ideas about what Marvel Studios is actually able to do, and also have sort of lost sight of what general audiences would want, so they’re crushed when the narratives they’ve built up over time aren’t actually done. I mean, I think sometimes that they’ve even lost sight of what other diehard fans would want, and assume that their singular vision is of universal appeal. I just remember a lot of the most dominate ‘the Loki series better do [this]’ stuff had me going ‘oof I kinda hope it doesn’t...’

But yeah, I think the hate comes from passion and...building up unrealistic expectations and losing sight of how and why these movies appeal to other fans or general audiences.

And I can certainly sympathize, because that was definitely Endgame for me. I think the difference is I can recognize that Endgame was a fairly well produced film, even if I was personally really disappointed by the tone and plot decisions, and I got why people liked it. I think we should really make more room for people to be like 'personally, it was really bad for me, but I also understand how others can like it'. I also often cite Kingsman: The Secret Service as a movie that I personally hated. I really hated it. I had a huge problem with it (and similar to Endgame was also going through some personal stuff that may have colored my experience) but I can still recognize why people enjoyed it and it was a ‘good’ movie.

I also think a lot of the really extremely online fandom types that get this upset over Marvel movies/series...don’t watch a lot of TV. And that’s not me just making stuff up, people talk about that! There are so many posts nowadays where people specifically talk about not being able to get into any new things, or only caring about Loki, or only reading fanfiction. And like, do whatever, I don’t care, but I do watch a lot of television. I make time and space to watch a good deal of television, and I feel like people who are watching more have more of a grasp on the highs and lows, shall we say. Aka, there’s a lot of shit to filter through and when you watch a greater breadth of TV (or film...I’m more in a TV phase right now, but same for film) I think it’s easier to recognize quality and be able to sort things into ‘objectively good’ ‘objectively bad’ categories. (And the related ‘good but I didn’t like it for personal reasons’ ‘bad but I did like it for personal reasons’ subcategories.)

And I will say, I can also sympathize with feeling really confused when you really don’t like something and then it gets a bunch of positive reviews. The true worst TV series I watched this year, Amazon’s Dark/Web, has a good blurb from Den of Geek and a few Emmy nominations (though I’m assuming they were technical...I have to assume they’re technical lol). My so-far least favorite film, Pieces of a Woman, has a 7.1 on IMDB and got good reviews. And it does kind of suck when you’re like ‘hey what the fuck, how is everyone not seeing how bad this is?’ but...I think that’s only solved by watching a lot of TV/movies and getting a sense for your own tastes and different levels of quality, and our society opening up more space for people to feel comfortable saying things like ‘I really didn’t like it, but I can see that it’s well-made and I’m glad you enjoyed it!’ or vice versa. (Which, given how we can barely get people to stop looking for moral reasons to hate something when they just don’t vibe with it...I don’t have a lot of hope lol.)

Disclaimer: not everyone, etc etc, and obviously I’m not talking about the people who say things like ‘eh it wasn’t for me’. That’s a perfectly natural response! It’s okay to not like things, obviously. What I’m specifically referring to is the people who say whatever new Marvel thing it’s the worst show/movie they’ve ever seen, which thus far seems to be no more than a handful, but their posts occasionally make it to my dash and I do think of them every time I’m watching an objectively terrible TV show like ‘god I wish that were me’ XD

#long post #the discourse (tm)#loki series discourse #also those are only the worst things i've stuck around to the end of this year lol my dnf list has some gems on it as well lol #but you know sometimes you just have to keep watching....like me with le chalet right now #god it's really bad......but so strangely compelling

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enhypenandpaper · 3 years

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we never go out of style | jake sim

pairing: Jake Sim x gn!reader

genre: fluff

warnings: descriptions of body image (jake basically checks the reader out), mentions of a diet (jake’s, not the reader’s)

word count: 1.3k

summary: in desperate need of some new clothes, you invite your best friends Jay and Jake on a shopping spree for fashion advice. the day is a success, and while you walk out of the mall with a new outfit, Jake has something new of his own that he’s not sure he can afford.

The food court was practically empty.

You and your two best friends were sitting at the cleanest table you had ever seen in a mall; the three of you had last period free, so you were able to get here before the usual mob of high schoolers who left countless straw-wrappers, used napkins, and various unidentifiable foods wherever they went.

The three of you were at the mall because your wardrobe was in desperate need of an update. It was a lot simpler when you were younger, natural growth being an automatic reminder to buy new clothes and change things up. As you got older, it was easier to just throw on the same sweatshirt you wore on your first day of eighth grade and call it a day, which is why you needed some extra motivation in the form of the two boys sitting with you.

“Thanks for coming with me today, guys, I feel like I’ve been cycling through the same three outfits for weeks now.”

“Yeah, I noticed.”

You playfully swatted Jay on the arm. He was the only person you would accept this kind of criticism from, him being the resident fashionista of your friend group after all, but it didn’t mean you always liked to hear what he had to say.

“Like you’re any better! At least I get dressed before my morning classes.”

“Changing into a different pair of sweatpants doesn’t count as ‘getting dressed,'” Jay shot back.

“Neither does tossing a $300 sweatshirt on and walking out the door,” Jake, who was sitting across from you, pointed out.

Jake’s comment made you laugh and even pulled a little smile out of Jay.

“Okay so no sweatshirts and no sweatpants today, that’s the only rule,” you joked, “but everything else is fair game.”

You reached for the bottle of water you had gotten with your meal. No matter how hard you twisted the cap, it wouldn’t budge, even when you pulled your sleeve down over your palm to help.

“Here,” Jake started, “let me-”

Before Jake could finish, Jay plucked the bottle from your hands and opened it with one twist. You and him were unfazed, Jay reaching for a French fry off of Jake’s tray, you taking a sip of your water.

You met Jake’s eyes, noticing his furrowed brows and parted lips; he looked confused.

“What?” You asked, putting the bottle back down on the table.

Jay was staring at him now too, eyebrows raised.

“It’s nothing,” he shook his head. “Where are we off to first?”

“Y/N! Come over here.”

You made your way over to Jay, his height making it easy to see him over the racks of clothes. You had barely stopped walking before he turned you around and started holding up shirts to your back, trying to figure out your size.

Apparently satisfied with his findings, Jay put three shirts, two pairs of jeans, and a thin leather jacket in your arms before turning back around to browse the accessory stand.

“How do you even know Y/N’s jean size?” Jake asked.

Jay just shrugged but you explained, “we’ve gone shopping together before.”

“Oh. I didn’t know that,” Jake said, his voice small.

You frowned, why did he have the same look on his face as he did whenever he was on a diet for soccer and Heeseung ate ramen in front of him?

You were about to ask him what was wrong when Jay was back in front of you, holding various pieces of jewelry up to you and the clothes, trying to figure out what matched best.

“Jay, am I made of money or something? Slow down!”

“I’ll pay for it. Consider it an investment in walking around with better-dressed friends.”

You opened your mouth to argue but your friend had already dashed off, flagging down a store employee to get you a dressing room.

“Do you want me to hold your stuff while you try these on?” Jake offered.

You smiled at the boy, accepting.

He took your bag from around your wrist, underneath the pile of clothes, and made sure not to graze your skin with his fingers lest he start blushing in front of you.

“Can you grab my phone, too? It’s in my back pocket.”

Jake gulped but did as you asked, his fingers reaching around your waist to grab your phone before slipping it into his own pocket.

You flashed him another smile before walking over to the employee Jay had found, giving Jake a chance to breathe and find a way to bring the heat in his cheeks down before you came back out.

The two boys took a seat right in front of your dressing room. Jay immediately went to scroll through something on his phone but Jake stopped him.

“Do you guys, like, do this often?”

The question caught Jay off guard. Why did Jake care how often you two went shopping? Did he…?

Realizing what was going on here, Jay tried to comfort him.

“It’s not really a regular thing, I think they just like my honesty. You don’t have to worry.”

“Worry? I-I…Why would I be worried? I was just… oh.”

Jay moved his head to follow his friend’s gaze.

Jake’s eyes were locked on you as you stepped out of the dressing room. The sight of you was a little too much for him and he needed to remind himself to breathe.

Your shopping trips with Jay obviously paid off because the jeans he picked fit you perfectly, a little too perfectly, hugging your body and making your legs look long, the rips giving Jake a glimpse of your bare skin. The shirt you were wearing emphasized your sharp collarbones, a simple necklace laying between them and disappearing beneath your shirt. The jacket really pulled it all together, the expensive design making you stand with more confidence than usual; it was impossible to look away from you.

Jake wasn’t used to seeing you in clothes like this. Sure, he always thought you looked incredible, but Jay was known for his fashion sense for a reason. He knew exactly what to do to emphasize the parts of your body that had Jake’s jaw practically on the floor.

“How does it look?” You asked tentatively. You thought you looked good but the awestruck look on Jake’s face was making you nervous. Either he really liked the clothes or had never seen something so horrifying in his life, it was hard to tell.

Jay, however, was smirking, obviously satisfied with his work. You looked cool and confident and everything fit you nicely. The necklace he had picked was a little long for the shirt you were wearing, but he decided it was a job well done anyway.

“Great,” Jake squeaked before clearing his throat. “It looks really good.”

Relieved, you turned away from your two friends to inspect the clothes in the floor-length mirror off to the side.

Jay nudged the boy next to him with his elbow.

“Dude, you’re staring.”

Jake snapped out of it and looked down at his shoes to hide the blush that was apparently going nowhere.

Jay had to keep himself from laughing at his friend, he had never seen Jake so flustered before.

After changing back into your original clothes you walked out to join your friends, all of Jay’s findings in your hands.

“Does it all fit?”

“Yeah, that one top is a little low-cut but-”

“Perfect! I’ll go take care of it,” Jay decided, taking everything from you and practically dashing away, leaving you and Jake alone.

“Are you sure everything looked okay? I mean, I trust Jay, but just because an outfit looks good doesn’t mean it will look good on me, you know?”

“Y/N, you looked really good,” his hand went up to rub the back of his neck. “Well, you always do, but especially in that outfit.”

Now it was your turn to blush.

“Honestly, you even looked kind of intimidating in that jacket.”

You nudged him with your elbow. “Are you saying you’re afraid of me, Sim?” You joked.

Jake just laughed at your words, not sure how to explain that while he wasn’t afraid of you, the feelings he had for you were definitely a little terrifying.

A/N: This is obviously a lot shorter than “join me in the sky” but I hope you guys still enjoy it! I feel like Jake would get really shy around his crush lol and when this idea popped into my head I knew it was the perfect opportunity to write about blushy Jake!

#jake sim #enhypen jake #enhypen #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fluff #jake #sim jake #sim jaeyun #jake fanfiction #jake scenarios #jake fluff

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thecitythatdoesntsleep · 3 years

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Vampire Master-Guide

First of all I want to start off by saying I've gathered inspiration from MANY vampire medias. Fictions, games. The biggest influences are Vampire the masquerade (primarily bloodlines) and Vampire Knight (manga). As well as honorable mentions to Vampyr (game), Queen of the Damned (movie) and Van Helsing (movie, anime). So if anything sounds familiar, chances are it is. I highly encourage you to explore them as they are a few of my favorites.

Second of all this is going to be massive, so I'll be putting it under a cut. But it will be a comprehensive guide to my personal vampire lore that I've crafted and worked with through the years. If you like it, feel free to use it! I'd absolutely love to be tagged (so I can shower the creations with praise) but it's not required. I'm just out here making one more version of vampires that hopefully inspires you. There will be a couple different categories that I will touch base on.

History (this part is super short)

Physicality - Medical Information

Physicality - Appearance/Body

Mental Effects

Society

Anything from my vampire lore will be tagged #vlor

Now follow me under the cut, lovelies. But please be Warned: We'll be discussing blood, violence, physical and mental illness. As well as regular vampire related things. If any of this could trigger you, please kindly skip this post because you're far more important to me!

'History'

The original vampire to walk the earth, cursed by the heavens was Caine. After committing the first murder, a blood-soaked punishment was to forever be banished to walk the darkness with a constant reminder of his crimes. Thirst. Craving for the same blood he shed against his own kin. The sin was carried through the years and he came upon another outcast kindred by the name of Lilith, cursed by God in a different way and hexed with powerful disciplines.

They bonded as kine and Lilith taught her chaos to Caine in hopes they'd rule together. In the end his nature stayed true and his now empowered wrath befalls Lilith, committing murder yet again and taking her life.

To feed upon and be fed, was a now animalistic instinct that spoke louder than supposed human nature ever could. And thus the curse spread. To anyone that drinks from the tainted or is bitten by a rabid, is surely to bear it at the final heartbeat. The path to redemption is sealed but survival is nearly infinite. So long as the beast is obeyed and satisfied, there is no constraint on lifespan. They will be damned to an eternity enslaved to thirst.

(Primarily from VTMB but I really like the idea of it being some sort of ancient curse from the gods so I thought I'd include this tiny historical bit. Onto the good stuff.)

Physicality - Medical Information

Vampires are anemic, let's just establish that all vampires are what modern day medicine would consider anemia. But they also have super aggressive red blood cells that function x100 that of human white blood cells. All in one combo of super cells. No illness spreads. No disease can contract, nothing can live in their system. They don't fall ill with colds or flu. STD's aren't feasible. Their systems are far too strong and combative to infections, bacteria.

Their integumentary systems regenerate about x200 - x300 times faster. Within seconds (if there is or has been fresh blood in the system recently) their skin regenerates and goes even beyond that. Mere hours and limbs grow back, bones realign.

Vampires don't have functioning organs. (If they are turned from humans they are there but they don't work and will eventually wither.) Hearts don't beat, lungs have no need for air.

Vampires can't drown. They don't breathe and even if water fills their lungs, they would be weighted down but not die. They also don't float like humans do naturally.

Vampires can go out in the sun but they have hard times with sun poisoning. Think of a sunburn but more like a rash. They can't process the vitamin D very well and almost all of them have trouble with getting severely burnt very rapidly or having a rash from the sun. Prolonged exposure can make them feverish, nauseated and give them body cramps and fatigue. Even longer can make them violently ill and can essentially melt their skin. It can be healed but takes longer.

Staking their hearts immobilizes them but does NOT kill them. They can be detained this way and it is excruciatingly painful. But it doesn't kill you.

Vampires can't eat food. Only few can consume liquids aside from blood. They have no ability to digest it and no longer make acid. They'll usually heave it up along with whatever blood content is left in their gut.

They have perfect eyesight, hearing, hyper senses of taste and smell. Touch is extremely sensitive as well. Their skin isn't fragile, in fact it's a bit thicker than average skin from how fast it regenerates and is constantly maintaining itself.

They are very resistant but not impossible to scar. Scars from human life are erased with first turning.

Vampire blood tastes like flat soda or icky, room temperature tap water. Unpleasant to other vampires but in a desperate pinch, it will sustain but nowhere near as good as foreign blood does. Even animal blood takes better care of a vampires system than another body of recycled blood. (Think of it as they've already taken the good stuff out of it for their own bodies so all that's left is the taste and a few stray nutrients.)

Vampires fangs grow back indefinite. At about x10 the rate of humans losing and replacing their first set. No matter what comes of them, their fangs will always grow back. No other teeth mutate like this.

Fangs lengthen and retract when around blood or not. It's not something that can be helped or even trained out. When blood is present, fangs will lengthen even if there is no intention to feed. Automatic reaction and a painful one at that. They get used to it but it's a sharp pain like having a human tooth extracted but it doesn't have prolonged swelling or discomfort. Only when getting longer or retracting back in.

Whenever they're in bloodlust or a state of starvation, they gain a sense of x-ray vision but instead it's vein mapping. They can see through skin to arteries and if it's severe blood lust, they can even see the smaller, tinier veins in fingers and faces. This is a sight that ever vampire possesses in order to obtain blood easier or figure out a good place to bite. Anything that is living will be seen in a structure of veins. Animals, humans, other vampires.

Severing the brain stem from the body is one of the few sure-fire way to kill a vampire. Alternatively burning them to pure ash and scattering them or holding them in separate vessels. (If ALL ashes are contained somehow and mixed with fresh blood, there is a reanimation process so beheading them is more permanent.) Silver weapons or exposure to silver prior to wound can result in death as well.

Alcohol is SUPER effective when they drink it. Think of one shot making them drunk because it hits their bloodstream almost immediately. A double would have them seeing double and acting like a hot mess. 3+ for even the beefiest of men would have them blacked out and vomiting on the sidewalks.

Drugs effect them but only in extremely high doses and for nothing really over 2 hours or so. Short, short longevity but they have the same crash that humans do. If it's hard detoxing symptoms for humans, it's the same but faster. They can do a hard drug, feel the high for maybe 1 - 2 hours and immediately go into hallucinating and shaking from the aftermath. The same goes for Pharmacia. There's really no medicine that works.

Garlic is a myth. So is wolfsbane.

Silver on the other hand is a very real, very deadly weapon that still rings true. A single pinprick of a silver sewing needle and it can render a vampire powerless. Slow them down to the speed of a human, take away their rapid healing and remove all of their heightened senses. Silver directly into the bloodstream essentially renders them as they were before they turned in physical response and structure. It's the only metal that burns vampires skin and will char it if it sits in one spot for too long. Silver is the only kind of metal that can forge chain that vampires cannot break and can successfully be restrained in. Any wounds inflicted in silver take longer to heal.

They can't reproduce after being turned. Purebloods + Purebloods are the only exception and it's still extremely rare. (Only 9 children born in over 2,500+ years.)

Physicality - Appearance/Body

Whatever color their eyes are, blood-lust accentuates the brightest color. I.e: Brown eyes turn Yellow/Gold, Blue eyes turn White/Purple exct. (Different powers can change this depending on the vampire and their history, sire.) Just think neon, glowing eyes in the dark if they're thirsty or hunting.

They stay frozen in whatever physical appearance they're turned in. Their metabolism is whack so they don't really lose or gain weight, it's down to cosmetic changes or cosmetic surgery. Which at least it heals flawlessly and doesn't ever change. But there aren't many options for personally invested physical change.

Their hair and nails grow super fast.

Vampires usually have the hair color they have when they are turned but around 15% experience graying or whitening of their hair within a few days of turning. Due to a semi-common genetic string in humans.

Vampires don't tan. They burn. No matter what their skin color is. Most are the palest/pasty tone of their natural skin color merely due to anemia and lack of blood circulation.

They don't blush or show physical signs of fever.

Vampires don't sweat or flush when exerting or exercising. They don't have to regulate their body temperatures.

They get dry skin pretty often and it's important to combat it with baths and soaks and lotions/oils whenever possible.

They are usually a lukewarm body temperature. As low as 15°C|59°F to as much as 21°C|69.8°F.

Every vampire has a certain amount of charming allure to them. In whatever form or fashion suits them the best, it's a natural attractant to their human counterparts. A glint to their eyes, a certain smile, the pitch or timbre of their voice. Endearing, seductive, mysterious, whichever shines through in their personality. They are magnetic, attractive to the human eye, no matter what they tend to look like.

They can see themselves in aluminum coated mirrors. Just not silver.

Mental Effects

There is a staggering 95% probability that 'created' vampires will have amnesia unless turned by a pureblood/noble/king/queen/high ranking blood vampire. They remember nothing of their human lives and this is extremely common. It's actually very rare to remember anything prior to your awakening. (That's why there are usually strict laws about siring without consent and proof of consent.)

It is very easy for vampires to be blinded by fits of rage when starving for blood. They can fly into blind anger and attack people they normally wouldn't or even foes they have no chance of winning against. Depending on their remaining strength when this tipping point of starvation happens; it can be extremely dangerous to be around.

Most turned vampires suffer a psychotic break in their early turning years. (Between 6mo and up to 25 years of awakening age. I.e: from the date of being bitten.) The brain is the last thing to be altered in the physical process and because of this, it's believed that their mental state has to crumble to be built better. It's unknown as to exactly why this happens but it's almost guaranteed. It's the vampire equivalent of 'adolescence'.

Over 75% of vampires experience periodic depression and random bouts of sadness. Another 39% live with bouts of mild to moderate psychosis. (This has been suspected to happen because of the physical stasis and improper circulation of chemicals/hormones/exct. Many believe it's because of the guilt of their King, Caine.)

Mental illnesses that aren't born from physical imbalances are in cases of amnesia, cured. Those that are chemically related are usually worsened by the stagnant physical changes of vampirism. It's rare that those with amnesia remember their traumas or emotional upsets after turning.

The "amnesia" of turning is the death of a human psyche. With the staggering rate of permanent amnesia, it is hard to figure out exactly how it happens but it's widely known.

Society

Humans are not fully aware of vampires. This still rings true with the fear of world war and or wiping out the human race given their species.

There is a high society "government" type of monarchy. Each clan or type of vampires has a leader "elder". This is usually the oldest vampire to date of that specific type. Sometimes it's a group or a family of elders. In most modern day they have adapted to a more "presidential" route and have to establish themselves as leader types to be considered for any kind of law making or enforcement. (I.e: Noble bloodline, diligent efforts of servitude such as public service, military or other.)

There is a strict law against turning humans. Vampires are required to have clearly given consent and the process is to be looked over by an elder or enforcer. They must show strenuous documentation of that persons preservation in the name of probable amnesia. They must have a comprehensive processing of that persons interests, personality traits, societal standing, proof of occupational termination, familial status and situational agreement. (Basically they don't want humans forgetting their lives entirely and they want to make sure that they are able to move somewhere or hide from their families until they're well trained enough to be around them again. It's a very long to legally accomplish it.

Every city handles turning differently. Some require the sire to pay the death penalty and others are strictly against killing the one person responsible of their turned kindred.

Vampires are in every day jobs, doing anything and everything that humans do. From trash collecting, to law and doctors. Fame, fortune, poor, criminal; they all live as many walks of life as humans do.

Anti-vampire establishments are alive and well. Most are run by other vampires. Some humans share their beliefs but most typically it's a resounding amount of vampire extremists. This is legal due to the fact that they try to adhere and coexist for their sanctions ordinance. Helping enforce justice for their regions and implore an opposing force for rampaging vampires or other law breaking kindred.

Most human killings are covered up, tampered with or has someone on the inside working on doing both. It's a constant job but a needed one to keep their existence safe from being proven.

There is a massive shortage on vampire doctors serving other vampires or studying from what little information there is on vampirism. The ratio looking like 1 to 300. 1 doctor for every 300 vampires.

The most vampire dominated and lucrative occupations are generally law, publishing and sex working. There are 3 vampires with these jobs to every human worker.

Here is an additional post about how vampire blood would effect humans.

So that was everything I could think of for the time being. I may continue to edit and update this as I have time or I think of something that I haven't touched base on yet. But this is just the general lore I work with when I do write about vampires or when I think about them in general. Feel free to skip certain parts or like.. adapt it however you'd like. I made this to more so inspire people not to show a list of HOW things should go. Take of it what you like and ignore what you don't! Add more if you think of something!

Some of it gets a bit random but it's still things that I've either incorporated in some unpublished fics or talked about with some friends or just fantasized about in general. There's bits and pieces in all media for vampires that I really enjoy and I think every new style spins something different and makes for wonderful content!

#whump prompt #vampires #vampire prompt #whump list #character development #character reference #character sheet #vampire reference #character guide #vampire #vampire list #tw blood #tw violence #tw vampires #vlor

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jonsa101 · 3 years

Text

Yes, There’s Only 14 Episodes in Season 3 But Sharpwin is On Track and Progressing How They’re Supposed To.

There has been so much talk about this season’s writing and the lack of Sharpwin scenes that I thought I would just address everything in this post.

First, the writing this season is NOT BAD! In my honest opinion I actually think this season has some of the best writing in the series. Compared to season two, the writing is head and shoulders above what we got last year. More than ever before we are diving into these characters stories, seeing friendships form, getting a better look into their home life and seeing secondary characters shine! This is a good thing! These were the things that were so desperately needed in season 2 but we didn’t see this play out. I’ve said this before in my infamous season 2 rant and I’ll say it again, a show can’t solely depend on a ship! It has to have great storytelling and good character development for all of it’s main characters. This is what New Amsterdam failed to do in season two and they’re now making it up for it in season 3. The only area I would say the storyline suffered was the Cassian, Helen and Max “love triangle.” There was definitely more intent with that plot before the pandemic. Cassian was not only supposed to be a catalyst for Jealous Max and Sharpwin but he was also supposed to come in and challenge the way Max did things. Cassian’s whole thing was self care first=great patient care which was the complete opposite of Max and the two of them were supposed to clash. Obviously this completely changed due to the pandemic. You can’t have a storyline about a doctor prioritizing himself first for “better patient care”in the midst of thousands of doctors globally throwing themselves on the frontlines and even loosing their lives to COVID-19. It would have been a terrible look to have that storyline so they clearly scrapped it! What we saw was probably them trying to salvage whatever was left from the original plot while they still had Daniel Dae Kim in the limited amount of episodes for season 3.

Apart from that, I think the writers are doing a fantastic job in terms of character development this season. Arguably I would say that Iggy probably has the best storyline so far and that’s incredible for his character. Tyler Labine is acting his ass off and Iggy’s scenes with Lauren, Vijay and Martin were top tier!!! We are finally getting a Max and Reynolds bromance that was teased in season one but literally know where to be found in season two! It’s great seeing them bond on screen and I hope we get more moments with these two. We’re also seeing Reynold’s “life plan” blow up in his face and we finally have some closure with Bloom. They kept us in limbo for so long! We didn’t know if him and Bloom were truly over but now we finally know. Also, it seems like he and Evie are officially done as well and he might have a new love interest on the horizon. For Lauren, she’s clearly seems to be having a coming out story which is something I didn’t see coming at all. I’m really curious how they’re going to play this out for her and can’t wait to see it unfold. Last but not least, for Max and Helen they are both going through massive character development phases which leads me to my second point.

I love a good Max and Helen scene as much as the next person. To me they’re the ultimate ship and I want to see them thrive and flourish but just because we don’t see Max and Helen interact doesn’t mean that the show isn’t properly developing or investing in their relationship!!!!!!!!The relationship between Max and Helen is so nuanced that their relationship doesn’t hang in the balance because they don’t have more witty, flirtatious, or emotional dialogue. Don’t get me wrong, I adore those moments. Those scenes between them make us the passionate sharwpin shippers we are. At the same time though, we have to truly take a look at why the state of their relationship is where its at now and why from a narrative perspective their current interactions make sense. In order to do this, we have to take a look at where Max and Helen left off last year.

At the end of season 2, Max made a move on Helen and almost kissed her in her office. After this moment occurred he never addressed it and at the time he was still dating Alice. There’s no doubt in my mind that this was the catalyst for why Helen started dating Cassian in the first place. She had practically laid her feelings out there and told Max he was the reason she gave up half of her department. After this revelation and the massive, intimate moment he initiated in her office, he didn’t even have the decency to address it. He swept it under the rug and wanted to keep the same relationship that he had with her like nothing ever happened. Even though Helen was aware about Alice, we now know from season 3 that Helen felt a type away that Max never “officially” told Helen that he was dating her. This is IMPORTANT!!! Max and Helen did not end on a high note in season 2. In fact, the very last scenes we see of season 2 is Helen blowing off Max to go on a date with Cassian and Max breaking off things with Alice. I know this wasn’t intentional due to the season being cut short but it definitely contributes to where they are now.

Fast forward a year later, and not only do we still have a massive almost kissed elephant in the room between Max and Helen but also the trauma of being on the frontlines of a pandemic and going through the biggest social justice movement the world has seen. This is something I’ve said many times over but I’m not sure the fandom recognizes how much these events have permanently altered these characters and changed the dynamics of this show. COVID-19 changed everything. The Black Live Matter Movement for the first time grabbed the attention of the world and changed everything too! Max and Helen are in the process of trying to heal and rebuild their lives the best they can as individuals after such a tumultuous year. At the same time, they are acutely aware of the feelings they have for each other and the UST between them and are carrying the weight of that as well. Naturally guys, the combination of all this is going to change most dynamics in a relationship. Things are awkward and distant because Max and Helen are awkward and distant!! They have a lot of shit that they’re going through as individuals and subconsciously as a “couple.” They are clearly not in a healthy place to be as vulnerable as they once were to each other. And how can they be when their feelings have literally been eating at them for over year?! It’s hard to ignore that and try to force yourself to go back to the way things were. Especially when their feelings have “technically” been out in the open since the end of season 2. They both know what it is! They were steps away from unleashing years of built up sexual tension between them and they went on with their lives like it never even happened. Max walking in on her and Cassian kissing in HER OFFICE and subsequently having that convo with Helen was not for shits and giggles. It triggered the BEAST of his feelings that he had fought so hard to suppress. There is no doubt in my mind that when he saw them in her office kissing, he was having some serious dejavu to their almost kissing affair last year. He‘s in love with her and she’s in love with him but this what happens when you continuously try and run away from those feelings and let it fester instead of trying to deal with it head on. The dynamic were seeing between them now is a result of their unresolved issues and it absolutely plays into Sharpwin’s story. It doesn’t take away from it. It makes sense for where they are NOW!

If we look at season three holistically, you’ll realize that a momentum for something significant happening for Sharpwin has been set through the acting and writing. I got to give it to Ryan Eggold. He has that fire and desire, Mr. Darcy type level acting down to a tee so far. It is so satisfying seeing Max so overcome with his feelings that you can tangibly see it in his body language and hear it in his voice. We have seen Max taken aback by Helen before but we have NEVER seen him like this. I keep on saying it but this is different guys. Something has shifted and it seems like Max is on the verge of exploding. His feeling are burning hot right underneath the surface and it’s a beautiful thing to behold. Last night’s episode was ripe with this type of content and Ryan was in his acting bag! It wasn’t an overtly “Sharpwin” episode but the writing and the acting is so clever and methodical, it will have you thinking otherwise. At the beginning of season 3 Max told Helen that he wants to build something better for Luna and something better for her. Was last night not a beautiful reflection of that? One question asking Max if he has ever loved a black woman put him in the shoes of his patient’s husband and had Max advocating for his wife like he would advocate for Helen if it was her! If that’s not fucking romantic I don’t know what it is and if the alarm bells aren’t going off that there is something deeper at play here with a huge payoff around the corner I don’t know what to tell you! Another moment that sticks out to me like a sore thumb is when Helen was telling Cassian that her brother died. I wrote about this in a previous meta of mind but Helen at her most vulnerable telling Cassian that she feels like she’s running out of time is SO SIGNIFICANT guys!!! It’s not only tell us that she fears that she’s missing out on the windows of opportunities for the wants and needs in her life but it literally sets the pacing of how quickly Sharpwin is going to progress. It is the beautiful freudian slip that tells us exactly where things are headed for these two. To me this is equivalent to Max telling Helen “I love my doctor” and “what if I want you?” in season 1. This episode had no interaction between Max and Helen but it was a MASSIVE Sharpwin indicator through and through! These are just a couple of examples but even their respective journeys in parenting is so Sharpwin driven. So in all I’m not mad in the direction the show has taken to showcase their relationship this season because Sharpwin is deeply interwoven in the storyline this year even if it’s not overtly obvious through emotional dialogue/ interactions.

Also, one thing you have to realize is this, season three is wrapping up a lot of loose ends from season 2 and when it comes to Max and Helen these two points will be/ have to be addressed in the next six episodes.

The Almost Kiss

Whether or Not They Want To Be Together

The showrunners know without a shadow of doubt that the resolution for these two points is owed! If Sharpwin is talking about their almost kiss, there is no way that they aren’t talking about what they mean to each other and what their future looks like together. Both solutions literally go hand in hand and I promise you they are not delaying the resolution for that till season 4. It’s not happening fam. We will see this play out within the next six episodes. So in hindsight, more Sharpwin interaction are on the horizon.

When I was making predictions about this season I wasn’t aware that this season would only be 14 episodes. I’m sad that season 3 is so short but that still doesn’t change my mind for where I think the story is going. Call me crazy but I’m sticking to my guns. There is something about how Ryan is portraying Max that is signaling something huge. Also I just trust the context clues that i believe the show is giving. I trust it! Anyway y’all! If you have any sharpwin question just DM here or message me on Twitter! my username is @oyindaodewale.

Love you guys! ❤️

#sharpwin #new amsterdam #max goodwin #helen sharpe #max x helen #sharpwin meta #new amsterdam meta

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emersonfreepress · 3 years

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ok ok in the spirit of community, how would the ros fair in a paintball war?

(referring to this ask! like the zombie au post this ended up making me think a lot 😅)

ohh... interesting, interesting... p sure the only paintball wars i’ve really seen were the ones featured in The League, Peep Show, and Community... but let me wrack my lil head...

ok, i ended up coming at this from multiple angles like the zombie au post 😅 always so much to consider in battle environments! and in the spirit of community, I'll stick with the individual player elimination style paintball match. in the woods with other e prep seniors. last one standing wins bragging rights

Gabe

Shooting skill | 6/10 - Experience with shooting and practice with Kile ofc

Stealthiness | 8/10 - He's done a fair amount of sneaking around during his after school activities, is super observant (or just paranoid lol), and naturally light on his feet. Good luck ambushing him.

Strategy | 8/10 - Strike deals. Do favors. Form alliances. Shoot 'em in the back once they’ve outlived their usefulness. ...What? It’s just paintball.

How does he win? | Graciously. Gabe likes winning, and especially via strategic manipulation, so it puts a smile on his face. And he's in a good mood so he treats a bunch of you to ice cream or smth 👀

How does he lose? | Slumps in frustration at being outwitted or taken off-guard, sulks about it for a little while. He's not that sore of a loser but needs time to lick his wounds and stop thinking of the different choices he could have made.

Kile

Shooting | 9 - The most accurate shooter of the cast and easily one of the best shots at E Prep. Lots of practice + talent

Stealth | 10 - They're stupid good at climbing trees and 100% consider that a valid method of ambushing their classmates. People start having flashbacks to 3rd and 4th grade recess and P.E. Scanning the trees. They just start taking people out with such efficiency it quickly starts ruining the game 😂

Strategy | 0? 10?? - “...Strategy? You just stay out of sight and kill 'em all, right?” (immediately scolded by Gabe for word choice 🙄) They really do mainly stay out of sight and pick people off with max stealth, like 😆 they'd be such a terror, people would need to take them out early for anyone else to stand a chance! They spend a lot of the game staking out the most frequented paths in the area and taking out groups quickly, all at once. Then they'll get around to stalking and picking people off one by one. The real fun...

Winner type | Stoic. Likes winning combat but the stakes were non-existent, so... the win is meaningless! this just infuriates the losers more 😅 such disrespect

Loser type | Sucks their teeth and tosses their paintball gun to the ground. "Y'all suck." (they're over it five mins later tho lol)

Jack

Shooting | 3 - This is nothing like shooting light guns... ☹️

Stealth | 5 - Not just due to his size making him an easier target, but homeboy is liable to get distracted by a cute squirrel or some pretty flowers 😂 He's not great at keeping his voice down either so good conversation would make him easy to seek out. He's just out here enjoying a beautiful day 😅

Strategy | 7 - All that movie-watching (and DMing) make him a valuable creative mind for problem-solving, but he needs a cooperative team to be effective. Rescued and recruited by Rupan/Rohan early on in the game ^ ^

Winner type | Disbelief! And everyone’s content and satisfied with him winning. Except Vivian/Vincent, that jealous fool

Loser type | Doesn't mind losing at all! He just hopes he was a good teammate and was glad to have fun ☺️

Jessie

Shooting | 7 - Comes from a family of hunters, girly knows how to shoot.

Stealth | 6 - Familiar enough with woods and stalking prey to be capable of sneaking around. Having too much fun to not giggle and get overly invested in the developing plot of the game. Even more easily distracted by critters and flora than Jack 😅

Strategy | 5 - Oh, she's just here to have fun. She'll go with whatever the person she's teaming up with decides, but can adapt easily enough.

Winner type | Surprised... then elated! Bouncing and happy and it's completely contagious. No hard feelings about a single thing. Convinces Heidi to invite people to the Emerson Estate—it's a hot day and they have a nice pool

Loser type | Same as Jack! Congratulates the winner with a hug because she's sweet like that 🧁

Rain

Shooting | 2 - This... thing is so cumbersome. And ugly. At least it shoots pretty colors.

Stealth | 7 - Small and used to sneaking around different environments and seeking out hiding spots. Their height and frame makes them harder to spot too.

Strategy | 4 - Hide!!! They’re not getting assaulted with paint and pellets!! Especially not after managing to make this ugly jumpsuit look cute?? Waiting it out is perfectly legitimate. Might share snacks if you decide to join them in hiding 😆

Winner type | Falls asleep in an unexpectedly cozy hiding spot and emerges as everyone thought they’d declared the winner. I imagine R and others yelling at them to get their gun while the original winner scrambles to get theirs, just for Rain to win by pure luck of the draw. Won’t stop them bragging about it, though! (I want this spurned runner-up to be Vi bc ofc)

Loser type | "So I can stop holding this thing?" Yawn. "I'm so hungry and bored, we've been at this for hours..."

Rupan/Rohan

Shooting | 4 - Ah, shit. These don't shoot anything like light guns.

Stealth | 7 - They sneak out and around town a lot 😂 They just force themself to be careful about how loud grass and bushes are.

Strategy | 7 - They’re treating this shit like an action movie and banding together a ragtag team of misfits to take down the strongest alliances and players. Savvy enough to reject Gabe’s and Curt’s offers to join, not opposed to strategic backstabs. They're very clearly just as focused on having fun as they are on winning—and playing Predator, which honestly works with Kile runnin around. They even brought war paint and borrowed a tactical vest. Is it mostly packed with snacks and weed? Maybe. Does it prove useful for negotiations? Hell yeah.

Winner type | Raucous celebration, just pure joy and adrenaline ☺️ Celebrates with their team, brags a bit, rubs it into Vi's face, makes fun of Curt, the usual. Then invites allies out to get pizza because it's the obvious next step

Loser type | Mostly disappointed they can't keep playing. They're a little sore about being left out of the action, but soon just start chatting with other marked players about how the game went for them. Plenty entertaining on its own, they want all the details

Vivian/Vincent

Shooting | 5 - They've got a little bit of shooting experience.

Stealth | 4 - They're overly sensitive and hate being in nature. Their skin is sticky, they keep feeling bugs everywhere, they've gotten dirt all over their pants, it's so hot, they keep WALKING into SPIDERWEBS, [flails about, screaming furiously]

Strategy | 8 - They have good ideas, they're just difficult to execute alone, especially since they're getting sunburnt and getting crankier and can't stop swatting at insects 😅 they're one of the first people to figure out that someone's taking out groups from the trees, so they stay solo and try to find a single person to team up with. Really what they need is someone who's a better shot but easy to boss around. They can probably just owe them for an in-school favor...

Winner type | Barely suppressed gloating. Vi somehow finds a way to be an obnoxious winner almost entirely by the look on their face. Once they're in a smaller group, they're passionately discussing the details of the game and happily boasting about their triumphs (while glossing over all of the whining and and slip-ups lol)

Loser type | Booo, such a sore loser. (Especially in the scenario where Rain wins 🤣) If they're outsmarted or outgunned in a clear, transparent way they'll growl and stomp off, then quietly glower and sulk for way too long. If they're double-crossed or beaten in an underhanded way oh lord —they're fighting it to the end. R can't help but get involved either way, reminding them it was a damn game with literally no prize. "C'mon, Vi, chill. You want ice cream? Let's get you ice cream."

Heidi

Shooting | 6 - Some shooting experience.

Stealth | 8 - She's very aware of her surroundings and her body. Perceptive yet quiet. Tactical. All residual traits picked up from her many activities over the years.

Strategy | 9 - Most likely to outsmart everyone. The first one to figure out groups are being targeted from the trees. Goes it alone and only open to trading (unless she sees Curt with Jess in which case she puts a quick pin in her plans to rescue her 😂). She also immediately figures out it's Kile, because ofc it is. Keeps close tabs on what groups are doing, knowing that eventually Kile will come down to ground level to pick off individuals and couples. Predator becomes prey 👀

Winner type | Proud but not boasting. She doesn't need to be. Victory looks good on her, natural and fitting. Thanks everyone for a good game then takes the girls for a long ride in the Cadillac 😎 top down on a bright day, baby

Loser type | Damn. She should have won this. Maybe if she'd... She probably could have... Then she snaps out of it, roped in by the celebratory mood of congratulating the winner. She's over any feelings of frustration or regret after getting to discuss the match with the person that took her out/the winner and there's no hard feelings. If anything this was fun as hell, it should be an annual thing. ☺️

Curt

Shooting | 8 - Some shooting experience and a natural knack for it. Good reflexes.

Stealth | 8 - Curt likes to say he gets along with the woods around these parts. Sneaking around is second nature to him. Really good hearing too. He's an easy target if you manage to seduce him though, having no issue leaving himself vulnerable if it means that kind of fun 😂

Strategy | 7 - Honestly, he's most interested in seeing how long he can get away with using charm and seduction for both protection and double-crossing 😂 Eventually becomes persona non grata and gets all of his ammo stolen by a vengeful mark, barely getting away in the process. Since that jig is up, he finally starts thinking a win might be nice... and so he teams up with the only competent player who would never betray him and also inspires the least vitriol in others: Jessie. What? Is his back-up plan using her as a human shield? No! 😚 Of course not! 👉👈

Winner type | Insufferable and gloating. Rubs it in a lot of people's faces, specifically Heidi, Rupan/Rohan, and any participants who genuinely don't like him. Brags to Gabe (who is completely disinterested in gassing him up 😂), then promises he'll make things up to Jessie (who didn't mind and had fun lol). Then celebrates by asking whoever he's flirting with these days for a quick date—and a ride in the Ferrari. Makes a scene pulling out of the parking lot. Ass.

Loser type | Doesn't care one bit as long as he had fun! And he always finds a way to have fun, it's why he's so carefree 😅

#lovely anon #answered #ROs #scenarios #someone pls confirm that kile is using paint pellets thx #I can totally see myself writing this out as a an actual short story 😂#maybe as a kofi reward whenever I get that set up 🤞🏾#I don't think any of these are incomplete...

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spookysmujer · 4 years

Text

Cherry, O.Diaz

Summary: Oscar and Y/N have been casually hooking up for sometime now and when feelings get too involved, true colors come to show.

warnings: mentions of sex, angst

word count: 2.9k

A/N: sorry for the delay of content! Twin and I have been really cracking on an upcoming project she is working on. Y’all don’t even know the investment we have into it 🤣 This idea came to me, I’m emo for this angst shit + Spooky, strayed from my original plan but oh well. I notice y’all like the cute fluff fic with him, would you like to see more fluff with Oscar? Let me know! I’ll be getting to the Sad Eyes request soon 😘

If someone had told you you would be doing hook-ups with Spooky, you’d laugh at them. The two of you had known each other growing up in Freeridge, not close but also not strangers. He definitely flirted with you a lot. But nothing ever ensued, especially not after he was sent to Corcoran for 4 years.

It wasn’t until a few months after he got out that the two of you bumped into each other at the little corner liquor store. The devilishly handsome look he had on his face began the little thing you two have going on. No strings, just sex. And it’s gotten you two awfully close.

The clock on the nightstand blares 5:32am as you try to rub the sleep from your eyes, not that you got much anyways with recent activities. “Always running away before the sun comes up.” You hear the deep voice of the tattooed man next to you. A smirk creeps on your face as you stand to get dressed. You only get your undergarments on when he pulls you back down and lazily climbs on top of you.

“Com’n I’ve gotta go, I open today.”

You tell him as he kisses your neck, which always makes you weak. He ignores you for a bit but eventually rolls off of you, licking his lips with satisfaction.

He lays back and watches you put on your clothes, bummed that the weekend came and went by so quickly. Oscar likes having this little ruse between the two of you. It allows him to be satisfied and not have to deal with all the relationship shit, hynas be trippin’ and clingy as fuck with him.

“Come back tonight.” He calls out to you as you pull your hair into the bun and walk out of his room. You shake your head and laugh to yourself.

Friday and Saturday nights are usually designated for the tootin’ and bootin’ as Oscar likes to put it. It was good for you too. The stress of trying to keep up with bills and student loans has you working doubles almost 3 times a week. You definitely needed some kind of hobby, turns out sex is a great one.

“Fun night?” Your co-worker tells you as you two go through a 10 hour shift. You roll your eyes which are focused on the screen in front of you. But she doesn’t stop staring at you, waiting for an answer. After only being about to take so much daggers, you twist your chair to her and pull down your top a bit to show the hickies that scatter over your chest. Her cheeks tighten with a large smile. “Oh yeah, fun night.”

It wasn’t a secret that you and Oscar are sleeping together. Like everyone else’s business in Freeridge, people were aware the two of you shacking it up. “Man can’t keep his hands off ya!”

“He definitely likes to mark his territory for sure.” You reply as she has a giddy moment.

The work day goes by quickly thanks to working with your favorite co-worker. It’s open to close day for you and when the familiar red impala pulls into the parking lot, your body had a natural reaction to tingle. “Look what the cat dragged in and you telling me that y’all aren’t a thing? I don’t know what booty call comes to his booty calls work place to pick her up, I know I wouldn’t be doing all that just to get some.”

Oscar showing up definitely makes it look like it’s more than just casual sex, he says it’s because he’s a gentlemen at the very least. The same guy who will spank your ass raw and tell you keep your mouth shut.

After closing and walking your co-worker to her car and waving her by, you get into the car where a tank-top dressed Santo drags on a blunt. He puffs out the smoke before flicking it out of the window. You set your things at your feet, “Wasn’t expecting you to show up.”

“It’s how I know you’d come back tonight.” He puts his arm on the seat behind you. The look he gives you, a look with absolutely no effort, makes you shift in your seat. “What?”

He shakes his head, licking his lips and tilting his head for you to move closer. With a sigh, you scoot over right next to him. His other arm leans across him and settles his hand on your thigh. Oscar tilts his head down and plants an open mouth kiss on your neck, instinctively your head moves to the side. With his hand caressing your thigh, you totally forget you are in a public area. And you’re getting aroused quickly. When his hand starts to creep closer to your heat, you grab it and scoot away slightly. He looks up at you with a bothered face.

“We really gonna do it here?”

Oscar only shrugs and pushes you back to him with his arm draped on the seat. It’s like your body has no control to his touch. His lips press against yours, slow at first then more needy soon after. His free hand pulls your farther thigh to get you pressed more against him. And at this point, you’re horny and well, no one is around.

You release from the kiss to straddle his lap and pull off your top. He bites his lips seeing all the marks he had left on you from the weekend. A low moan sounds from him as he pushes his face into your chest, pressing hot kisses to the bruised skin. His teeth scrapes against your covered breast, while you unhook your bra.

“Hmmm, fine ass hyna. Nothin’ new.”

After the scandalous public car sex Oscar tells you he hopes to hear from you soon. With your flustered state, you drive home in a haze. Once you get home, you lean against your front door, still feeling the numbness on your lips from all the kissing. You didn’t know how you got to this point. The careless sex and the amount of it you’re having. You didn’t think how much further it could go.

“I’m telling you. He has claimed you and soon enough, without even knowing it? You’re his girlfriend and living in the Santo Trap house!”

Your younger sister tells you as the two of eat breakfast the next morning. She is constantly getting at you about how your friends with benefits situation will evolve to something more. More serious and more dangerous.

“For the last time, we agreed on just sex. Nothing more, nothing less.” You explain her to which she only rolls her eyes at you. “He leads the Santos. You think I wanna date someone like that?”

She scoffs, “But you fucking him? Spends the night? Picks you up? What about that time he dropped off your glasses? Hm? He knew you were going back to his place yet he drove and took his personal time to bring them to you. Keep lying to yourself but at this point, one of you is feeling something.”

She stands from the table and leaves you to finish up. You play around with your food and try to shake any ‘whatifs’ from your mind. Oscar didn’t seem like the type to care about the relationship part, just the sex.

As another work week had gone by, and multiple texts from Oscar asking if you were free to stop by but you kindly denied because of how tired you were. It’s Friday night and you’re contemplating whether to go over to his place or take the time to recuperate. You didn’t have much time to thoroughly think when your phone rings and Oscars name pops up.

“Well well well the devil himself.”

He chuckles into the speaker, “Hola Mami, whatchu doing?”

“Hm, trying to think if I have enough stamina to come over.” You roll over on your bed, “I could use some convincing.”

You can practically hear the smile in his voice, “The temptation mamas. How about we get some 40s and drive around for a bit?”

“Sure, I’ll be ready in 10.”

You didn’t think much of it, but some free drinks convinced you enough to go with.

Oscar picks you up soon after you change. You weren’t paying enough attention to notice the warmth of his cheeks along with his signature side smile as you get in. A brown paper bag sitting between you that carry the 40s and you’re off out of Freeridge. You have no idea where you’re headed but the scenery is nice as the dark night passes by.

Soon enough, you pull into a parking lot that sits in front of a beach. The moon shines against the water that looks like its out of a movie, he pulls out the drinks and hands one to you.

“How was work this week?”

“Long as hell.”

He wipes his chin, trying to loosen the restrain of his smile, “Had to be, dodged me all week long.” You look over to him, your smile forming as your shake your head at his comment.

“Well, I did say I could be convinced to go over you your place tonight but you wanted to come out here like we’re 18 or something.” Taking a long gulp from the bottle, you lick your lips.

He doesn’t say anything for a minute before striking up another conversation. To which leads you two talking for a while not even noticing the time go by. When you finally become aware at how much you’ve been talking, you look at the time on his stereo, 3AM blinks. You sigh as you set the empty bottle by your feet.

Oscar leads against the car door, watching you as you stretch and look out at the water.

You finally look over at him,“What?”

He looks away and smiles to himself, “I’m just trying to figure it out, that’s all.” You look at him confused considering there was no prior conversation.

“How you got me to take you here. I don’t take anyone here, I only brought mi hermano out here once. Y’know, deep convos and shit. Special place and all. So I’m tryna figure it out.”

As you pay attention to how he tells you this, your mind instantly goes back to the conversation you had with your sister that morning. How you told her that this thing is nothing but an itch to scratch. But now? You hear your sister saying, one of you is feeling something.

You clear your throat, sitting up straighter in your seat. “Um, maybe it’s on your bucketlist to get a hyna to have sex on the beach?” A chuckle escaping you but Oscar doesn’t react much to the joke.

He didn’t know where he was going with this. Hell, he never had a problem with the ladies, ever. Not in high school before he became the leader of the Santos and certainly not after. But most of the hynas he been with truly were a ‘toot it and boot it’ situation. And for the last few weeks, that’s all it had been with you. But as the week had passed by and you weren’t there, he started to think. To think about the what if’s: you not needing to sneak out for work or having real conversations about things like hopes and shit. Oscar realized that maybe he wanted more than just sex with you.

“Nah, sand gets everywhere. Y/N... this thing we got. I’ve been here before, sorry to say but a lot times and usually, they come and go but nena.. you really got me thinking about shit other than just sex.”

Usually, the confession of love for you would give you butterflies. But because of the life he led, it terrified you, “Oscar.. the thing we have, it’s good. It works for us both, I mean granted we lead two different lives... it fits in well. You were the one who dominantly established this was going to be no strings. Sounds like you are saying that’s what you want... strings?”

“What could be so wrong with that? Is it hard to believe a man like me could want that?”

You let of a breath, turning your body to him, “You lead a gang. A group of people who try to rid the streets of violence... with violence. Do you see how that’s fighting fire with fire?”

Oscar kisses his teeth and his body language changes in a snap. He is constantly being looked at like a big bad guy, when really he truly did care for his community. His way of life is a tricky one, sure. But people always looked at how he handled things rather than the fact that he handled them. And now with you using that as a reason for how a guy like him could want something like a real relationship, Spooky is peaking.

“Anyone ever tell you not to judge a book by its cover?” His voice snappy and dripping with venom. Your eyebrows furrow, head tilting like he just dissed you at prom or something.

“I usually don’t, but when the cover got bullet holes? I know it’s not the Bible I’m reading.” You snap back, not liking how he suddenly changed his demeanor. How he went from sappy to snappy in an moment. Typical Spooky, you thought.

Oscar only wipes his face, straightening in his seat and turning the key in the ignition. The impala roars to life and he switches the gear to reverse. Much like the ride to the beach, it’s quiet going back to the familiar hood. The atmosphere is cold and chilling. You have your arms crossed over your chest. This definitely not how you foresaw this night going.

As he pulls in front of your house, he still doesn’t say anything. You sit there for a moment and watch him, he grows impatient, waiting for you to get out, “Need me to open the door for you or something?”

The snap in his voice makes you scoff, “A gentlemen at the least would do it. You really gonna be like this? Because I don’t feel comfortable to make it more than what it is.”

Again no answer. With that NOT being said, you fly the door open and close it. You weren’t even given another second before he speeds off and away from your residence. With an audible groan, you march back into your house, cursing to yourself for getting involved with him.

The next couple of days went by as normal. You worked your shifts, went to the gym, spent a night out with your sister to whom you didn’t mention anything about the blow up between you and Oscar, dinner and repeat. But in the back of your mind, it gnawed. When you lay in bed getting ready to sleep and the little doors begin to open. What will I eat for lunch tomorrow? When is the electric bill due again? What is Oscar doing? That one comes up more than your usual wonders. There were a few times where you stare at your phone, finger hovering over his contact name but nothing.

As another weekend approached you thought about it again, you even made the effort to see him but when you drove by his place, seeing that his car wasn’t, you kept on driving.

“The fuck are you doing, Y/N?” You tell yourself as you sit in the parking lot of the beach you were at with him nearly a week ago. It’s a sad attempt to go crawling back, really. But when those thoughts crept up to you, you replayed the words you said to him. You spoke to him with such judgement, something you hate about others doing to yourself. Because you weren’t some random hyna. You do know him and truthfully he isn’t a bad person even labeled the elicit Spooky, gang leader of the Santos.

A sigh escapes you, the ring in your ear as you wait for him to pick up. Maybe after your failed attempts to make contact, he’d answer. But to avail.

“Hey, it’s Y/N. It’s been a week and we haven’t really talked or seen each other. I, uh, drove pass your place and you weren’t home and I wanted to call but figured you might have been busy,” You roll your eyes at yourself. “Anyways, I’m sorry for how I said things. Though I stand by what I said I could have been kinder with my words. I don’t like when people use my image to assume who I am. You aren’t the big bad wolf who blows the houses down, matter of fact you’re probably the one who picks up the houses after... um, so I’m sorry. With how I look at you, I thought being with him would be a mistake waiting to happen but if you think there could be something worth trying... maybe you can convince me. Call me back.”

Oscar listens to the voicemail as soon as he gets notified of it. He sits at the edge of the bed, elbows resting on his knees. The cold air hitting his bare back, he sighs.

He feels hands rub over his shoulders and onto his chest, a hot breath on his neck. “What’s the point of being in Sin City, if we aren’t constantly sinning?” Leti’s voice in his ear as she reaches to take his phone, tossing it aside. She scoots off the bed and pushes him back, climbing to straddle him.

Oscar begins to regret making this trip to Vegas as a means to get over you.

#on my block #on my block imagine #spooky #spooky x reader #oscar diaz #oscar diaz imagine #oscar diaz x y/n #oscar diaz x reader

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bladehorror · 3 years

Text

Gently addressing concerns about the update

(I posted this to FRD, but I want people here to see it as well)

Hi, I am one of the random users who are in the majority that is extremely happy about this update. I am here to give those who aren't, for many reasons, words of understanding and a different perspective on the most common complaints I've seen around here. Hopefully this post doesn't come across as condescending, that isn't my intention at all. I understand that this is a drastic change from the way things have been since the 5th year anniversary, and it'll take some getting used to. Your emotions are valid, you have the right to not like it. That being said, I hope to at least alleviate some concerns here.

On to the issues I've seen brought up:

All the time and effort I put into my dragons now feels wasted.

This is understandable. With the first eye update, there was a huge shift in most users' opinions about what makes a dragon impressive, and special eyes became sort of a big priority. Breeding/scattering for one was extremely time-consuming/expensive, and the RNG-based nature of it made it really frustrating; which is why for those who invested all that time and effort and eventually got what they wanted it was very satisfying to share their work with the rest of us in Dragon Share and say, "I raised this one myself", and I can see why you'd think the change is unfair.

Here's what I think: you can still be proud of your work! You can still share with us how long you tried to breed/scatter your dragon(s) for the perfect eye type. I know I'd be impressed if you told me "it took me two years to breed for this dragon but eventually I got it". You did that! Be proud!

I spent a lot of money on scattersights to get the right eyes for this dragon, and now that I can just use a specific item for it I feel cheated.

This is also frustrating as hell. Although a lot of people asked for the vials to be available, there was no way to predict that they would actually be released. The Staff was clear that Scattersights were permanently retired and that created an environment where people who wanted to customize their dragons' eyes only had that option for almost 4 years.

The truth is, what this update brought is what I believe should've been there from the beginning. The pure RNG-based nature of eye types, as it was, is antithetical to Flight Rising as a site where you can work for and customize your dragons with as much control as you can. The mistake wasn't making eye types available for purchase, it was not doing that from the get go.

I had dragons/vials I bought for their monetary value, and now I can't get my invested money back.

People have many different ways to earn money in this site. I flip gen1s on occasion myself. I don't think it's unfair or unethical to want to earn some money for something in high demand.

That being said, spending money in order to get more money later is, to put it a bit bluntly, a gamble. The nature of every economy, real or simulated, is fickle. What is valuable one day can lose all its worth the next. You took a risk, I'm willing to say a very reasonable one at that (seeing that staff gave us all the impression that the way eye types work wouldn't change), and unfortunately it didn't pay off.

It happens. It happened with Eliminate, and now it happened again. And it sucks that it happened to you. I'm sorry.

In conclusion: no update is going to please every one, and I think staff could've been more gracious in how they first implemented the eye update so we wouldn't be going through this. But in the long term, I think it's a good thing.

The RNG-based mechanic is still there for people who enjoy the challenge of breeding for special eyes. Eggs will still hatch multigaze and primal gen1s without anyone needing to buy vials for them. But now they're more accessible to everyone else, and that's good! I'm all for people getting the dragons they want the way they want them. And I hope my post has, at least, given you some consolation.

Have a good day.

#flight rising #fr #fr update #eye update

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opbackgrounds · 4 years

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Oooh can you do a post on the tenryubito?

So I feel like this is going to be an unpopular opinion, but I pity the Celestial Dragons.

That isn’t to say that they aren’t all (mostly) abhorrently evil megalomaniacs with an institutionally enforced god complex who treat the torture of human(oids) with the same blasé disregard as a kid pulling the wings off of a fly, but there’s a part of me that just finds them pathetic. The Celesital Dragons are a group of people who have the world as their silver platter, yet are so small-minded and infantile they literally trap themselves in a tiny bubbles because they’re too scared to breathe the same air as the so-called lesser races.

There was a time when I didn’t think much of the Celestial Dragons because I thought that Oda’s exaggerated storytelling had gone one step too far. They were too cartoonishly evil to be believable—nothing but a bunch of mustache-twirling villains too ridiculous to be taken seriously—and though I found Luffy punching one in the face very cathartic I wasn’t terribly invested in the World Nobility as a worldbuilding element.

But if there’s something I’ve realized as I’ve gotten older, it’s that there is a depressingly-large number of cartoonishly evil people who through no merit of their own find themselves wielding enormous amounts of power, and the Celestial Dragons are more realistic than I ever thought possible.

The Dragons are One Piece’s exploration of the idea that power corrupts, and absolute power corrupts absolutely. Eight hundred years is a ridiculously long time to be in control of a single territory, let alone an organization as massive as the World Government. To put it in perspective a little, eight hundred years ago was when the Magna Carta was signed. Even real-world dynasties tend to have major fluctuations in power over the course of generations, but It seems that the World Government—and by extension the Celestial Dragons—have for eight centuries kept an iron hold over what they consider theirs.

Which just happens to be everything.

The actual origins of the CD tie into series lore and will probably play a big part in Robin learning about the True History, but I fall in the camp that believes that they originated on the moon because 1) they’re the Celestial Dragons 2) there’s gotta be some significance to Enel’s cover story, and 3) Oda clearly modeled their hairstyles and clothing off of the King and Queen of the Moon from the movie The Adventures of Baron Muchausen

Which, if true, makes them a foreign imperialistic force that used military might and a totalitarian regime that specializes in censorship and terror in order to turn the One Piece world into a giant colony while presenting itself as an egalitarian, unifying coalition where no single ruler is fit to sit on the Empty Throne.

And to think, there are some people who don’t think One Piece is political.

What’s really fascinating is that most of the rank and file Celestial Dragons don’t seem to realize their own history. Their traditional enemy has become a bedtime story used to scare children, and they’re too preoccupied in their petty games and pleasures to even notice that they’re not really the most powerful people in the world. It’s like their freedom to commit atrocities is the world’s worst example of bread and circuses, because as long as their attention is held by the shiny new slave or fixated on bringing in another tribute then they can’t use their immense power to actually do anything, and for the most part they’re too stupid to realize they’re being used.

Granted, I’m doing a lot of guesswork here, but we don’t really know where Im and his giant pointy crown fits into all this, or how aware the average Celestial Dragon is of his existence. Is he a world noble? Are the Elder Stars? I personally don’t think the latter are, but is it possible that there’s an even more secret and exclusive group within one of the most secretive and exclusive groups on the planet? And what in the world does the straw hat locked in a freezer have to do with any of it? Was that the treasure Doflamingo used to blackmail the Celestial Dragons into submission, and if so, who did he parlay with during his negotiations? Because I can’t see idiots like Saint Charlos or Mysogard before his character development giving two shits about any of it. Was it CP0, and if so, how much do they understand about the man who sits on the Empty Throne?

What I’m trying to say here, is that there’s a whole lot we don’t know.

What isn’t guesswork is how little the Celestial Dragons understand about the real world, and this is where I go back to feeling sorry for them. Even the best-intentioned noble we’ve seen so far (Homing) has no idea of what it is to be “human”.

This mansion is just...comfortable. It’s a downgrade. It’s how Homing thinks normal people live, and he thinks he can just plop his family out in the real world and live a quiet, normal life without blowback from a population that has suffered terribly at the Celestial Dragons hands. His ignorance and naivety, while well-intentioned, is staggering.

Because remember, slavery is technically illegal within the World Government. Only criminals and people from nations not affiliated can be taken to auction. What initially seems like a kindness turns out to be sending pigs to the slaughter, because what nation wouldn’t react the way this one did once they found out the truth?

Because what the WG (and by extension the CD) have done is punish nations who don’t kowtow to their power in order to fulfill the demand for slaves. Even the bit about criminals is terrifying when this is a world where for some it’s a crime to even be born, to say nothing about the Celestial Dragon’s refusal to obey their own laws if it means they can get what they want, when they want it.

The whole Homing situation puts a different spin on Doflamingo’s speech during the Marineford War. People who have only known peace can’t understand those who have only known war, and that lack of understanding is what ultimately led to his undoing.

That’s not to say that the Celestial Dragons are incapable of change on an individual level. One Piece is, ultimately, a very optimistic series, so while I was initially surprised that Saint Mysogard returned during the Reverie chapters as a good guy, upon later reflection it made sense with the points Oda was trying to make during the Fishman Island arc—that if different groups can try to understand one another, they can get along.

But it took an extraordinary event in almost being killed by his own former slaves and an extraordinary diplomat in Queen Otohime to change the mind of one (1) Celestial Dragon, and it doesn’t look like Saint Mysogard has been able to bring anyone else around to his point of view in the 10 years since he realized he was, in fact, human. And when feel like you’re due everything because you’re a god, why would you want to lower yourself to the position of a lessor being?

The Celestial Dragons are trained from birth to think of other human(oid) beings as less than animals, where sadism and torture aren’t only encouraged, but celebrated. The system has corrupted to the point where there’s no incentive to change and no oversight to prevent the abuse of power, and with the ability to call the admirals on anyone who pisses them off the average person has no hope of fighting back. It’s difficult to guess how noble the progenitors of the current Celestial Dragons were, but judging by what we know of the Void Century we can guess not very. At the same time, it’s hard to imagine them starting out as the mustache-twirling villains as we see in the current day. The only difference between the Nefertitis and the other kings was one man’s choice to stay with his people. In an alternate universe Vivi could have been a Celestial Dragon.

Now there’s an AU idea.

At the end of the day, the Celestial Dragons play an important role within the One Piece universe, but they are not, by themselves, important to Luffy. He hates their guts and enjoys punching them in the face, but he’s a pirate, not a Revolutionary. The future for One Piece is delightfully opaque, and it’s hard for me to see how the Natural Enemy of God ends up tearing the system to the ground. Will the Straw Hats end up going to space? I don’t know, but there are a lot of people who think it’s at least a possibility.

I personally find them at their most interesting when they’re playing the part of the outside influencer. The Celestial Dragons have only been the direct opponents to the Straw Hats a handful of times, but they’ve played a direct role in the lives of so many other characters—both heroic and villainous—that without them the series could not exist as it currently does.

And that’s the power of good worldbuilding. I don’t need Luffy to face off against Im to be satisfied with the series. In fact, he was brought in so late that I’ll be a little disappointed if he ends up as the final boss fight. I’m okay with the Revolutionary Army storming Mariejois off-screen, because while those are important players and major chess pieces, that’s never been where Luffy’s focus has been. He’s the man who’s going to become the Pirate King, and until the Celestial Dragons somehow get in the way of that dream he’s not going to bother with them. This lack of focus allows the inherent darkness of the Celestial Dragons not to overshadow the more lighthearted, whimsical aspects of the series. They explore certain themes that are important to One Piece, but the story doesn’t dwell in the mire, and I think it’s all the stronger for it. .

#long post #celetial dragons #world building #sarc talks

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curiosity-killed · 3 years

Note

Hi....If you don't mind me asking, who are your favorite MXTX characters (top 5 from each novel)? And why? I'm sorry if you've answered this question before.

Aw of course I don’t mind! Though I feel like my answer is going to be a disaster bc I love these casts so so much aha let’s see:

✨ SPOILERS AHEAD ✨

MDZS/CQL

1. Wei Wuxian

Ah so I feel like this is obvious based on the sheer quantity of things I produce and the effort I put into hurting him 😅 but yeah! I love how much of a classical tragic hero he is and I love how much love he has and how that gets twisted around and shaped into a collar of spikes around his own neck. I saw gif sets of wwx before I ever knew about CQL and my reaction was “fuck. I’m going to love him” and I do! And I love that he does learn from his past and I love most of all that he learns to accept the love he is given and is able to make a happy ending in a place of being loved and held in respect and appreciation

2. Wen Qing

On the other hand, I did not expect to be like “mine now” with Wen Qing. Don’t get me wrong, the sexy immortal look got me but it wasn’t really till I started writing fic that I was like ohhhhh Oh Boy. Wen Qing is brilliant and ruthless, fiercely loving and aloof and cold. I love that she gets the lose-lose challenge of balancing what is right for her family vs what is right in the world, what she owes to her sect and what she owes to individuals. The golden core transfer is my favorite dubious science experiment in p much all media I’ve consumed. She gets to be so human—prickly and tough and also achingly gentle and afraid and putting on a tough face and sometimes still crying. “I’m sorry and thank you” ! Im!!

3. Jiang Yanli

The first fic I wrote for this fandom was literally “Jiang Yanli died no she didn’t” lmao I do feel like I underserve Jiang Yanli in that I often fall prey to using her to further the complexity that the male characters are permitted while denying her the chance to be given the same space for development and breath — something to work on! But in that, I really genuinely love how tightly she binds herself to her family and how she tries so hard to be what others need her to be—and then she does make a choice for herself and for a single moment at least, she gets to be loved and to be happy and to have this, a husband and a son and a place, for herself. And terribly I love how much she permeates the story still after death. She is the unspoken voice, the face turned from the camera but always still present, carried in the hearts and names and memories of the ones left behind

She deserved better but—I am weak for the tragedy of it all

4. Jiang Cheng

Another surprise (tho hardly surprising in hindsight): Jiang Cheng is just...horribly understandable. He makes terrible choices and his greatest heroism is undone by a choice made for him or, in the case of “killing the Yiling Laozu” is a lie. He is such a youngest sibling who doesn’t want to be the youngest until all at once, he’s the one in charge and he doesn’t want it at all. He is full of anger and hurt and so much love he doesn’t know what to do with it, doesn’t want it anymore, has no place to put all of its terrible, overwhelming flood.

5. Lan Wangji

I almost didn’t put Lan Wangji or Jiang Cheng on here and then I realized that this is sort of a list of characters I’m pickiest about in fic and...yeah. I think what I love best about Lan Wangji is his journey of grief and healing and through that, his decision to step into world. Where Wei Wuxian’s decision to travel and be removed from the cultivation world (in varying degrees depending on your headcanon preference lol) is really, really important to me, Lan Wangji’s decision to go from being an isolated lone agent working apart from the systems of the world to being involved and invested in changing those systems and working to make them better is also really important to me. I’ve talked before about how relatable Lan Wangji is to me (esp with regards to our interaction with the outer world) and there is something deeply hopeful and comforting about post-timeskip Lan Wangji being in his like mid-/late-30s and still making decisions and growing and changing and choosing to invest himself in the world and the future

yeah. i have thoughts here that I don’t really have the maturity, life experience, or articulation to put into words but Lan Zhan Good basically

TGCF

1. Xie Lian

suuuurpriiiiise!! Yeah honestly mxtx’s mains in TGCF and MDZS really just hit all my buttons basically. What appeals to me most of all about Xie Lian is, fittingly, how he is humanity taken to extremes. His capacity for incredible kindness and compassion is equaled with his capacity for cruelness and ruthlessness. His heaven-shaking highs are matched with calamitous lows. He is the hyperbolic of what it is to be human—and he is also the small moments, the wildflowers and the maple leaves and the mundane chores and the comfort of whispered conversations late into the night. I could quite literally go on for pages about what I love about Xie Lian but I am not Hua Cheng and can restrain myself LMAO

2. Hua Cheng

of all the characters on these lists, Hua Cheng is the one I’m pickiest about tbh! When I say I love him for similar reasons as Xie Lian I don’t actually mean this as being similarities between the two but the fact that both of them so richly convey mxtx’s points about the nature of humanity and what it is to be human. Hua Cheng is both the boldest and most arrogant of all and also the most vulnerable, the one who shies away from the truth because he’s braced for it to hurt and isn’t sure he can take it. He is gory blood rain and an umbrella to shelter a fragile bloom; he is a blade whose wounds only heal if he permits it and he is a sacrifice that he brushes aside as a fit of madness. *pats his head* this boy can fit SO MUCH inside him that he refuses to acknowledge

3. Jun Wu

Definitely my favorite antagonist in recent reading. I was doubtful of him from the start (something something issues with authority something something probably should talk to my theoretical future therapist shhh) but the unfolding of his reveal was so delightfully painful and exquisite that I was like “YES!!!” reading all of it. About the epitome of a satisfying plot twist imo. But about the character himself, I love how he parallels so many — Xie Lian in his rise and fall, his glory and disgrace; Hua Cheng in his fixation and ruthlessness; He Xuan in losing himself to the plot and not knowing how to move forward. I love that he feels beyond human in a way the others don’t—he’s so old and has gone through so much and he doesn’t feel things the way humans do anymore, doesn’t remember right how love squeezes the heart or how hate can exist without acting on it. I love that he thinks he knows how to control everyone and that it’s such mundane things that fool him: Xie Lian’s absurd stubbornness, Hua Cheng’s foolish faith, Yin Yu’s...emotional maturity??? Not Sure how to verbalize that one. But in the end, he is defeated by both the humanity of others and by his own—he’s so tired. He’s exhausted in a way that gods and ghosts aren’t meant to be. He is, under the armor and the masks, the curses and the power, human—benevolent and cruel, evil and good.

4. He Xuan

I love my fish man! No but really I love how He Xuan is so fixed on his one goal that he refuses to acknowledge anything else in his (after)life—which doesn’t make it go away. I love that he is left unmoored, purposeless through the very act of completing that which gives him purpose. I love his long con and the ways he clings to himself but loses himself not in the act but in the telling himself it’s an act. I love that he tries to be a moral man and then becomes a ghost king, a calamity. His reveal is also terribly badass and I do love his bone fish wholly unironically. Like I’m not going to get a He Xuan tattoo (for one thing I’ve been meaning to get a tattoo for 5 years and still haven’t gotten around to it) but also. B o n e f i s h

5. Mu Qing

Of course! The Jiang Cheng of tgcf lol Mu Qing (which my phone desperately wants to autocorrect to my Qing) is so...gah he’s such a mess! And he so fully commits to the belief that no one will ever see and understand him as he is but will always view them through their own convictions about him and his actions — which is simultaneously heartbreakingly lonely and also. Sir You Are a Clown. I genuinely think he’s owed apologies from both Feng Xin and Xie Lian for their treatment and assumptions of him and think that he would be HORRIBLY offended at the thought (while secretly touched? But like secretly even to himself). He will never explain himself and will just clam up tighter the more people accuse him and it’s such a self-sabotaging behavior and also so horribly relatable. I love u sir, you’re a disaster

SVSS I have not read but I do really like the moshang art 😂

#long post #asked & answered #lol sorry this is so long and incoherent #the truth is that I really love these stories and their casts #and I think it’s v hard to extricate the characters from the cast #because they are so deftly and beautifully interwoven #but here are the characters I think are my favorites lol #loosely in order #tgcf spoilers #also this is why I prefer tgcf to mdzs tbh?#jgy is intellectually interesting to me and a good antagonist #but not personally compelling in the way jw is

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iamanartichoke · 3 years

Note

☕️ loki series

I have been and will remain cautiously optimistic, leaning toward just-this-side of hopeful.

I have wanted a Loki tv show pretty much since I first got into Loki, many moons ago back in early 2018. At that time, I had absolutely devoured Jessica Jones and Luke Cage, Agents of SHIELD, and thoroughly enjoyed the Defenders series as well as some of Daredevil.

Considering the narrative arcs of these characters vs Loki’s narrative arc in the movies, it’s long been my opinion that Loki would be better served in a tv series. The movies simply don’t allow room for that; they’re at a disadvantage right off the bat due to the constrained space in which the story must be told, but additionally, they’re action/comic movies and Loki’s a supporting character, so he was never going to be given a ton of room for exploration.

Anyway, after the trainwreck that was IW, my hopes of ever seeing a thorough Loki arc were dashed, so when the series was announced, my immediate reaction was fuck yes! And it still remains my reaction in the sense that I am glad that Loki has been recognized as a popular enough character to get a tv show and that there’s lots of potential for story-telling and seeing more of what Loki is capable of and possibly even allowing him to make some friends of his own.

I think that the nature of this fandom on tumblr can color things, though; I do have a lot of doubts and worries based on conversations I have had here and possible directions the show might take, in which I don’t particularly want to see Loki go. And I’ll fully admit that I am emotionally invested in the character enough that if he gets a shitty storyline or is otherwise not portrayed well, I will be upset.

It is not about only wanting to see the story I want to see and being salty if I don’t get that. I already know some people won’t like the show and I already know that others will dismiss those opinions as just being mad that the writers did not give the stans what they want, and that drives me nuts because it’s so fucking lazy.

So just, like, let me dissuade anyone of that notion in advance, bc that’s never been the issue. Cause, I mean - right off the bat, the premise isn’t really my cup of tea. I’m not particularly interested in seeing Loki bouncing around throughout time, influencing historical events. I’m not super interested in the TVA. I wouldn’t personally choose a storyline where Loki has lost his memories (which is a theory but probable). I’m not thrilled that Thor isn’t there.

I wouldn’t have chosen to go in any of those directions, and there are a lot of plot elements from comics that I wouldn’t choose to explore, either. But I am and would be absolutely fine with seeing them in the show. The caveat is that it has to be done objectively well, by which I mean that the plot needs to be solid and tight, the tone has to be balanced, and there shouldn’t be plot holes large enough for the Ever Given to pass through effortlessly.

I am open to the potential of the series and these shows are two for two right now, insofar as good writing/plot/character exploration goes. Things look good for Loki considering WandaVision and TFatWS. So that’s what it all boils down to, for me: they can do anything they want with the plot, and they can do anything they want with Loki, but they need to make it make sense, both in a story-telling context and in an in-character context. If I don’t get that, then yeah, I will be upset. And I realize that my definition of in-character may differ from others’, which is fine, but like ... if they at least get it in the general ball park, I’ll be satisfied.

The other aspect of the show is that I am not looking forward to the inevitable discourse that’s about to tear through the fandom, but at least, if nothing else, we’ll have lots of new material for gifsets and music videos. And I think I need to cut myself off now before I ramble for another 3000 words. (It’d be great if I could apply this tendency to ramble to my fic, just sayin.)

Thank you for the ask!

Send me a ☕️ and a topic and I’ll talk about how I feel about it lol.

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imaginedhaven · 4 years

Text

Rules of Engagement: Chapter Eleven

Link to Masterpost

Holy crap, we’ve cleared 50,000 words of this. Things are really starting to pick up now, so if I had to guess this will probably wind up being... maybe around 75k-80k in total? It still has to be WRITTEN, though, so... lol.

Also, we’re going to start earning that warning in the masterpost for canon-typical violence from here on out. Just so you’re aware.

Enjoy!

~*~*~

“So, let me make certain I have this absolutely clear,” Aedion drawled in a way that immediately set Rowan on edge.

Rather than reply and risk growling rather than speaking, he nodded, the movement tighter and less smooth than he would’ve liked.

“Aelin came here to Rifthold fully intending not only to continue her relationship with the prince, but to apprehend a criminal—not just any criminal, but an assassin—who was originally from Terrasen and moved to Rifthold.”

Rowan gritted his teeth and gave another silent nod.

“She elected to do this for reasons you are aware of, but that she has not told me and that you refuse to tell me.”

Another nod and another clenching of his jaw.

“And so the two of you have been sneaking out at night, which Captain Westfall”—the name came from Aedion’s lips as though it were a curse in and of itself—“condoned, if not outright allowed.”

The captain spoke up then. “Given the information presented to me, I had little other choice.”

“I’m not finished,” Aedion snarled, and the captain fell silent. “While you were sneaking around the slums of Rifthold, you got into more than one brawl, and you destroyed at least one business, which as of now still has yet to recover, if it ever will.”

This time it was harder to stifle the growl, but as Aedion’s expression didn’t change he must have managed it with at least some success.

“And then last night, it all finally comes to a head when Aelin allows herself to be abducted by said assassin. And you allowed all of this to happen.”

Rowan’s grip on his temper, already tenuous due to the nature of the situation, finally slipped enough for him to snarl at the other warrior. “Do not presume to think I made my decisions lightly,” he growled, “or that I have not spent a single moment wishing it could have been myself in her place.”

The shifter—Lysandra—delicately cleared her throat, and Aedion immediately turned his attention toward her. “If we’re done yelling at each other about whose fault it is,” she said pointedly, “then perhaps we can come up with a plan for how to handle the fact that our princess is missing?”

Rowan nodded shortly, and unfurled a roughly-sketched map of the city over his desk. He watched as the captain’s brow furrowed, likely at the idea that a foreign soldier had been able to acquire this much information about his city, but Rowan chose instead to focus on the plan he had been given. “Aelin’s request was that she be given twenty-four hours as a head start,” he began, “and I see the merit in that. If she’s not able to get the information she requires now, this assassin will go to ground and it could be years before we hear of him again.”

“It likely won’t be years,” the captain interrupted, ignoring Rowan’s scowl. “I did some research on my own into the man she’s hunting. He’s too proud to go completely unnoticed for that long.”

“Be that as it may, this is our best opportunity.” Rowan tapped on a building on his map. “She was taken here. Her captors didn’t notice me following them. It appears to be a stronghold of some sort, almost a guild hall for cutthroats and killers. I think it’s unlikely that they would move her from this place.”

“Unlikely but not impossible,” Aedion retorted. “We should keep an eye on the place.”

“Once you’re satisfied with my explanations, I intend to go there myself. If you can promise to adhere to the plan, you may join me.” He had long since given up on keeping the frosty bite from his tone, but he fisted his hand at his side to keep it away from his blades.

“And how can I trust that this is actually her plan?”

It was the mark of a good soldier and guard, to be skeptical of his statements. If this were any other situation, Rowan would even be grateful that Aelin had someone such as this as family and protector. But this was not any other situation, and Rowan carefully called up a hint of the ice that swirled within him in the hope that it would cool his temper before he killed Aedion. “Whatever Aelin did or did not tell you is between you and her, and I refuse to be pulled into that fight. The only thing that matters right now is making certain that she exits that building safely. Are you going to help with that or not?”

Aedion growled, eyes glinting in a way that strongly reminded him that this male was indeed related to Aelin of the Wildfire, but nodded. “When do we leave?”

“As soon as we’re finished here. Captain? Lysandra? Anything to add?”

Captain Westfall cleared his throat. “If I may, I can’t keep Dorian from noticing she’s missing all day long. Do we have a plan for that?”

Rowan frowned thoughtfully, and Aedion and Lysandra glanced at each other. “That’s a terrible idea,” the shifter said as if in response to some unspoken question.

“It’s the best one we have,” Aedion replied. “This entire plan, such as it is, hinges on secrecy. And you had best believe I’ll be having words with Aelin about coming up with better plans later, but right now we’re stuck with the mess she left us in.”

“Have we considered just telling Dorian?”

“No, he’s right,” the captain interjected. “The less Dorian knows about this for now, the better. He’s terrible at keeping secrets like that from his expression; if we tell him everyone will suspect something is amiss.”

Rowan quickly turned his attention to the guardsman, frown deepening. He very much suspected that this was not actually true, and that the prince was far better at keeping secrets than he wanted anyone else to believe. Perhaps the raw magic that lived in his core was less well-controlled than he had believed?

Ah, of course. The magic. It wasn’t public knowledge that the crown prince of Adarlan was burdened with such a strong gift of magic. It was likely the captain was aware of the secret, and didn’t want any upset to risk a flare-up of the young man’s power at an inconvenient time.

Rowan carefully set aside the thought that Aelin’s disappearance would possibly cause an emotional disturbance in the young prince that was severe enough to unleash his magic. Better to think his control was simply a work in progress like Aelin’s rather than wonder how close they could’ve possibly gotten in a few short weeks.

Lysandra sighed, interrupting his thoughts, and when he looked up at her he froze for a moment as Aelin’s face looked back at him.

It wasn’t truly Aelin’s face, though. Lysandra was trying to adopt her usual confident smirk, but the gesture looked stiff and unpracticed. If he looked more closely the color of her eyes was ever so slightly darker as well, and the scattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose was in the wrong pattern. It was deeply unsettling to be looking at this face that both was and was not his carranam, and Rowan quickly looked away. “It should be close enough to fool the prince, for a short time,” he managed.

“So we’re decided, then,” Aedion declared.

“I still hate this plan,” the shifter cautioned.

Captain Westfall scowled as he stood. “It’s the only plan we have. I’ll do what I can to limit your interaction with the prince. I’m assuming you don’t want a guard sent to the building?”

Rowan nodded. “Best not to call attention to our movements. But be ready, in the event that we do not return.” He suspected all would be well, but it never hurt to have a backup plan.

The captain nodded, the motion tight and precise as he would expect from a soldier of the man’s status, and quickly left. “You can get there on your own?” Rowan asked Aedion.

The younger male stared at the map carefully, then nodded. “I can get there.”

“Good,” Rowan said. And then he flew from the room in a flurry of wings and frosty air.

~*~*~

“You take me to such nice places,” Aelin purred as Arobynn led her into another chamber, slightly larger than the previous one. Her arms and legs remained chained, but with slightly more freedom of movement she could carefully roll her shoulders and her ankles in preparation for moving quickly should an opportunity arise.

“Such a valuable player in the game should be treated with exactly the respect she commands,” Arobynn replied smoothly, though Aelin carefully suppressed a shudder at the bite beneath his words. She needed him to keep talking, to give her time to find the truth beneath the layer of lies she knew he would present.

“Well, I do believe the next move is yours. I await it eagerly,” she smirked.

She glanced at his face, focusing on the way his eyes didn’t move at all when he smiled. “I have a proposition for you, my dear.”

Oh, how she wished she could free a single arm. It was all she would need to make him regret the way he was speaking to her, as well as the bargain she believed he was about to suggest. Instead, though, she relaxed into one of the chairs as he sat in the other. “I’m listening.”

“See, we each have something the other wants,” he continued. “I have information I know you seek, and I would very much like you to stop being a pain in my ass.” Again, that undercurrent of rage slipped through his ironclad control, and Aelin hid another smirk. Riling people who claimed to have excellent self-control was a talent she had developed from the moment Aedion had come to their home from across the sea. It seemed this man was no exception.

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you mean,” she replied.

“Ah, so you weren’t aware when you and your… companion… trashed the Vaults that I had a significant investment in the business?”

“One of your hulking brutes didn’t like that I beat him fair and square. I could hardly control what happened next.”

“And the safe being cracked open before you left?”

“Complete coincidence, I assure you.” She was well aware that he would have no proof it had been her who had broken open the safe, and she knew that refusing to admit to what he suspected would only make him more angry. That was good. She needed him angry enough to let information slip.

“I see. Then I presume you don’t want to know how your parents died?” Another biting remark overlaid with false sincerity, velvety smoothness underlaid with sharp fangs and claws.

Aelin went cold, sensation fading from her limbs as she stared at him. “I was there. My parents died of an illness.”

“Ah, yes,” he drawled, kicking his legs up and over the arm of his chair. “An illness no healer could cure, or so I heard. I had left Terrasen by then, of course, but word spreads quickly when rulers fall.”

Aelin bit her tongue to hold in a sharp reply before glancing back over at him, expression carefully uninterested. “And assuming I can believe you’re telling the truth,” she said, “what would you ask in exchange for this information?”

“Why, what could any man want from a lovely princess such as yourself?” he asked, and Aelin once more carefully mastered her own expression to hide any disgust. “You have power, and yet you cannot access it without aid. I have that information and more, and yet I lack the power that would ensure my own safety. I’m certain we can come to some kind of… arrangement.”

“That’s a high price you ask,” she replied. “And you haven’t done nearly enough to prove you’re worth such an arrangement. After all, it is I who would need to convince the lords of Terrasen to accept you. If you can’t convince me…” Aelin deliberately yawned, and cheered internally as Arobynn gritted his teeth, silver eyes alight with anger.

“If knowledge regarding your own parents isn’t enough to convince you,” he snapped, “then what about information regarding your former lover?”

“It’s quite bold of you to assume I did no investigating when I discovered his body,” she retorted.

“Ah, but I would wager you have yet to learn who bid me send him to Orynth in the first place, and who gave the command to cut his life so tragically short.”

The callous admission that he had passed that command along lit a fire in her veins, and she reached for it before recalling that she was bound in iron. The wildfire fizzled, mere sparks that slipped from her fingers. “And what assurance could you give me, that you would tell me and that you have proof?”

Arobynn stood, and Aelin did finally cringe as he slid two fingers under her jaw to tilt her head up. “My dear, do I look like a man who leaves anything to chance? You’ll have your proof once I have our agreement.”

Aelin jerked her head back, freeing herself from his grip. “That’s a shame, for there will be no agreement until you’ve presented your proof.”

Almost immediately, Arobynn’s casual expression melted into steely anger. “What a shame indeed,” he murmured. “Perhaps you would care to enjoy some more of my… hospitality… first.”

As the man stepped away and opened the door, someone else entered the room. Aelin carefully stood as well, but even with a single glance she knew this wasn’t a fight she would win. Not with her limbs and power both bound by the iron chains clamped around her ankles and wrists.

At Arobynn’s nod, the newest arrival to the room gave her a predatory grin and dragged her toward the wall. Her face made contact with the wall as he shoved her against it with a hand between her shoulders, and while she was stunned by the impact he attached her chains to hooks affixed to the wall. “Do let me know if you decide to change your mind,” Arobynn called, and then the door closed behind him as he left.

Aelin heard the sound of a whip cracking, and as if from a distance she heard herself screaming as fire spread along her back.

~*~*~

Lysandra finally relaxed into her role as she sat beside the prince for the evening meal. True to his word, the captain of the guard had kept him busy for most of the day, giving her time to overcome her nerves at having to pretend to be someone like Aelin. Oh, she had acted before. She had played roles for clients and courtiers alike, and she had certainly changed her face many times.

None of them had felt nearly as important as this. Everything was on the line, completely dependent on Dorian believing her performance as his potential future wife.

It’s only for one day, she reminded herself as her fingers twisted around each other. She had complete faith in Aelin’s ability to execute a plan, as well as Aedion and Rowan’s ability to keep her safe. It was up to her, now, to give them the time they needed.

Dorian’s parents seemed to be completely unaware of the swap, and Lysandra had spent enough time listening to Aelin’s tutors to be able to follow the light political conversation that was taking place. Even Dorian was engaging with her just as he would with Aelin, and when he grinned at an offhand remark she awarded herself another point for her acting.

As the meal came to an end, Dorian looked over at her again. “So tell me, did you want me to do something terribly predictable and show you the gardens? Or can we skip that part?”

Lysandra laughed in reply as Dorian grinned. “Perhaps another time. I still have to read several of the books you’ve loaned to me, if I hope to finish them during this visit.”

Dorian stood, then, and turned to face her with an ostentatious bow. “Then I hope you will grant me the honor of allowing me to escort you back to your rooms, Your Highness.”

Lysandra chuckled and shook her head in what she hoped came across as a fond gesture. “You’re impossible,” she accused.

The prince laughed in reply. “I assure you that I am not,” he said. “I am here, after all. Unless you’d care to discuss the philosophy of such a statement, of course.”

“I rather suspect we would be here all night,” Lysandra grinned back as she stood, allowing him to take her arm and lead her away.

It was easy enough to allow Dorian to escort her back to Aelin’s room after the evening meal, though she couldn’t help a moment of surprise when he followed her into the main seating area. He glanced at the book Aelin had left open on her desk, humming thoughtfully as he read a few sentences. “Ah. I thought so,” he muttered.

“What are you talking about?” she asked, mimicking Aelin’s easy grin as she relaxed into a chair halfway across the room.

He turned to her then, and a chill in the air matched the frost in his eyes. “If I invited you to share my bed tonight, shifter, would you demur like the princess you claim to be? Or would you say yes, believing she’s already given into my charms?”

~*~*~

In another situation, or if he were simply an observer and not a participant in this conversation, Dorian might have been amused at the nearly-comical widening of not-Aelin’s eyes. Instead, though, he only felt a cold rage at the deception.

To the shifter’s credit, she immediately dropped the guise of Aelin and returned to her usual appearance. “I told them this was a terrible idea and we should just tell you,” she grumbled. “What tipped you off?”

“A few things,” he replied, “though the most suspicious to me was that this book is open to where Aelin left off last night when I left. She hasn’t read it today.”

The shifter—Lysandra, if he was remembering correctly—nodded. “I didn’t think you would come back here,” she confessed.

Dorian sighed. “Why don’t you start by telling me exactly what it is you’ve all been keeping from me today, and why the captain of my guard appears to be working with you.”

That was the part that was the most shocking to him, if he were being truly honest with himself. He had never once had cause to question Chaol’s loyalty, and he didn’t want to begin now. He only hoped there was a reasonable explanation for why he had been so eager to ensure he spent as much time as possible embroiled in his training and studies.

As he thought about the possibility that his captain and friend was conspiring with these people, as good as he believed Aelin’s intentions to be, he had to take several deep breaths to stop a layer of frost from forming on his hands. His control over his magic was much better than it had been when it had first manifested, but strong emotional responses still riled the power that slept within him. Unless he wanted to entrust his deepest secret to agents of Terrasen, he needed to keep his feelings in check.

The frost finally ebbed, and the shifter began to speak. “Your captain is only involved insofar as to keep you removed from all of this,” she said quietly. “We provided him with enough information to ensure your safety, nothing more.”

“That still leaves a foreign princess, her most loyal soldier, and a blood-sworn of Doranelle in my capital city, with a purpose of which I am not aware, causing an unknown amount of chaos.” Dorian fought back a sigh at the thought of the headache this would no doubt cause for him, and that was if he was fortunate enough to avoid worse fates.

“They’re… dealing with a threat that could bode ill for you and Aelin both.” The woman was clearly trying to decide how much to reveal and how much to hide, and if he wasn’t the person she was trying to deceive in this manner he would have respected it far more.

“What is the nature of the threat?” he asked.

She sighed. “A former crime lord of Terrasen, who left a few short years before her parents died. He’s created a new home for himself in Rifthold, styling himself the King of the Assassins. She’s been attempting to find him for years, to bring an end to a career that’s gone on for far too long already.”

Dorian sighed. “And I presume if I ask you’ll have absolutely no idea why a crown princess of Terrasen is involved in hunting an assassin, and didn’t simply leave it to her warrior cousin.”

“It isn’t my story to tell,” she replied, looking away.

“Of course it’s not,” he grumbled. “Apologies. I believe you when you imply that this wasn’t your idea and that you’re only involved out of necessity. But this puts me in a… delicate situation.” That was an understatement; if word of Aelin’s actions got out it could be disastrous.

“I understand,” she sighed. “Which is why I wanted to tell you what I could.”

Finally, he nodded. “And when do we expect her to return?”

“By morning,” she answered.

“Very well. I will do what I can to keep this quiet and out of the public eye. But I will be asking Aelin about this later.” It was the best he could offer, and by the look on her face she understood completely.

Without another word, Dorian turned on his heel and returned to his office, asking a guard on the way to send Chaol to him. It appeared they had much to discuss.

~*~*~

“I detest this plan,” Aedion hissed in the direction of the hawk on the nearby roof as the sun began to set. “We should be going after her.”

The hawk took flight, circling the square before landing behind a box and turning into Whitethorn in a soft flash of concealed light. “We have to trust that Aelin can get herself free,” the warrior said. “We’re foreign actors in Adarlan’s capital city. If we break into that building without cause, it puts Aelin and her prince both in a difficult situation.”

It was interesting, how a subtle difference in Whitethorn’s tone was able to so clearly indicate that he wouldn’t mind causing a little trouble for the Adarlanian prince. “You don’t like Dorian,” he realized.

The statement earned him a scowl from his Fae companion. “I have no feelings one way or the other about the prince.”

“You realize my senses are better than a human’s, right? I could hear that you don’t like him.”

Whitethorn’s response was the carefully crafted words of someone used to diplomacy. “I have no reason to dislike him. And we’re not talking about this. It’s almost time.”

Finally. He’d hated sitting in this alley waiting for something to happen. “Time for what?”

“If Aelin is going to keep to her schedule, she’s about to make her next move.”

“You think she can get out of there without us?” It wasn’t that Aedion didn’t trust his cousin’s abilities. No, he knew she was a capable fighter and a powerful magic user. But he knew that she would be unlikely to use her magic unless absolutely needed, given the possibility of a tense political situation if she were recognized.

When he turned to face Whitethorn, the other male wore a small but ferocious grin, eyes positively glowing. “It’s not her I’m worried about,” he responded. “Anyone who crosses her on her way out will deserve exactly what she gives them.” And judging from the look on his face, Whitethorn would revel in their suffering.

The house they watched over was quiet, its occupants likely asleep given that their profession meant being out at all hours of the night. Aedion sighed. “I still don’t like this,” he admitted several minutes later.

“Given that I don’t like it either, I could hardly expect you to.” For all his posturing, and for all the strange glee that had come over him when he had spoke of what Aelin would do to those who crossed her, now the warrior was tense, eyes dark with what Aedion suspected was worry.

Even though the Fae beside him was sworn to a queen that was not his own, Aedion realized he wouldn’t rather have anyone else at his side for this particular mission. He had watched Whitethorn and Aelin grow close over the previous weeks, closer than anyone would’ve suspected. He didn’t know much about magic, but he suspected that sharing it as they could was a rare gift. If he could trust anyone to feel the same urgency he did to ensure she got out of this alive and as unharmed as possible, it would be this warrior.

Suddenly Whitethorn’s head tilted and his eyes narrowed, much like Aedion would have expected in the male’s other form. “What is it?” Aedion asked, only for the other male to gesture for his silence.

Soon enough, Aedion could hear it as well. There was shouting coming from inside the house, at least two masculine voices. He couldn’t make out the words, and based on Whitethorn’s expression he couldn’t either, but something had changed. As he watched, the warrior pulled two knives from his boots and twirled them gracefully around his fingers. It was a good choice, and Aedion went for his own knife as well, knowing his sword would be nearly useless in these cramped alleys. “We stay here,” Whitethorn was saying. “Those are male voices. I haven’t heard Aelin yet, which means they haven’t discovered her. We only go in if it’s absolutely necessary. When she leaves, she’ll come this way. If anyone else makes it this far…” The grim smile on his face indicated their fate clearly enough.

Three men burst through the door of the building, exchanging panicked instructions before departing in different directions, and Aedion and Whitethorn crouched behind a cart to conceal their presence. One man ran for the alley they had chosen for their hiding place, and before Aedion could do anything the Fae warrior was already in motion, clutching the man to him in a twisted parody of a lover’s embrace before drawing a blade across his throat. “They’ll notice when this one doesn’t come back,” he whispered as he dragged the man behind their cart. “We don’t have much longer.”

A slim figure stumbled out of the door next, and Aedion grinned. “We don’t need much longer. That’s Aelin.”

She was almost unrecognizable, golden hair turned red with blood and darkened with ash, but there was no mistaking the eyes that met his, pained but determined. Then those eyes shifted away and he knew she had seen Whitethorn standing beside him. From the sharp intake of breath at his left he knew the warrior had seen her as well, and soon he had abandoned all talk of secrecy to cross the small crossing in several quick strides.

Aelin moved, trying to meet him halfway, but her motions were fumbling and clumsy. She said something to the warrior that Aedion couldn’t quite hear, smiling up at him…

And then as he watched, she collapsed into the male’s arms.

Whitethorn quickly lifted her, carrying her into the alley and out of sight. By the time they reached Aedion she was already unconscious, either from pain or from exhaustion. Judging by her face, Aedion suspected it was a combination of both. “Get her out of here and back to the palace,” he said quietly, adjusting his grip on his knife. “I’ll stay here and make sure you’re not followed.”

Green eyes met his, clearly searching for something. Aedion didn’t know what the warrior was looking for, but finally he nodded and adjusted his grip on Aelin.

Before he could get far, though, Aedion called to him again. “Oh, and Whitethorn?”

“Yes?” he replied, expression tight with concern.

“Take care of her.” And then Aedion turned his attention back to the house with a grim smile. He didn’t know what its inhabitants may have done to his cousin, but he had absolutely no problems with delivering justice to any of them foolish enough to come his way.

~*~*~

Tagging:

@ireallyshouldsleeprn @queen-of-glass @fangirlprincess09 @sassys-world @morganofthewildfire @superspiritfestival @perseusannabeth @sis-it-dont-add-up @jlinez @julemmaes @emilyoftheshadows

#haven writes #rules of engagement #rowaelin

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molluskwritesfic · 4 years

Text

Where the Roses Grow ~ Chapter Five

The compound on Arvala-7 didn’t house one bounty, but two. Elsi Nokk is an enslaved nanny with more than a few tricks up her sleeve. She’ll do anything to protect her charge, even if it means standing against - and then with - a certain Mandalorian. Rated M.

@kyjoraven @killtherandomness

Chapter Warnings: Death, poisoning, strangulation, mild sexual assault

Masterlist - Fanfiction.net - Ao3

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Chapter Five

Elsi and Kuiil didn’t speak again until the Mandalorian returned. It wasn’t a tense silence, simply pensive. Side by side they waited, listening to the increasingly impatient babbling of the Jawa.

When the Jawa finally decided to leave, Elsi bit her lip. Kuiil scoffed and tried to make them stay, but she knew they were probably right; it had been a long time, and the chances of the hunter and child coming back under their own power were getting smaller by the minute.

The crawler’s massive door groaned its way shut. Elsi had just drawn breath to ask Kuiil how much longer they should wait before going to look for the baby, when a dark shape rounded the top of the hill.

Kuiil jumped up straight, waving his arms excitedly. “Mando!”

The Mandalorian was certainly worse for wear; caked head to toe in chunky, drying mud. The rusted cuirass was mangled and bent out of shape, curling half-off of his chest like a dried leaf and rattling loosely with every step. Under one arm, he carried one of his thigh guards and a pauldron, and a large, furry egg the size of a melon under the other. He moved slowly, taking small, stiff steps down the hill and favoring his right leg.

With cacophonous shrieks of approval, the Jawa tumbled back out down the crawler ramp and swarmed over to the bounty hunter, who passed the egg off into the greedy hands of the first one to reach him.

Kuiil waddled to greet the Mandalorian, but Elsi made a beeline for the bassinet. A wave of panic washed over her when she saw him. He was laid out flat on his back, completely still. His normally vibrant green skin was waxy and pale; when she brushed her hand across his forehead, she found him clammy.

The baby snuffled a little, but didn’t otherwise respond.

The Mandalorian’s heavy presence loomed behind her as she checked the child over. “Is he alright?”

“He should be,” she said slowly. She understood what was wrong, of course, but she was still having to fight to keep her voice steady. “What did he do?”

“He lifted the mudhorn.” The Mandalorian’s mud-crusted helmet tipped towards the bassinet. “But I don’t understand how.”

“No wonder he’s tired,” she mused, mostly to herself. Elsi brushed the baby’s hand delicately with one finger, tracing the edges of one of his claws. “He’ll be okay. He just… needs rest.”

The Mandalorian dipped his head in acknowledgment. “What…” he started slowly, like he didn’t actually want to ask the question, but also couldn’t not. “What is he?”

She didn’t have an answer.

~0~0~0~ . . ~0~0~0~

The Jawa loaded the parts. The Mandalorian and Kuiil directed them. Elsi waited.

The baby slept.

And slept.

She’d known him to sleep like this before, but never so deeply. But then again, he’d never lifted a mudhorn, either, at least as far as she was aware.

On the ride back to the Mandalorian’s ship, Elsi took the child out of the bassinet to lay him against her chest, tucking his head under her chin in the way he liked to be held when he wasn’t feeling well. He snuffled a little at the transition, curling his tiny fists into her scarf and clinging to her in his sleep. Elsi counted it as progress.

They arrived back at the ship just as the last of the sun’s rays faded below the horizon.

“There’s no way we’re gonna get this to work without a full maintenance facility,” the Mandalorian groused. “This is gonna take days to fix.”

Kuiil scoffed in disapproval, righting the workshop light he’d brought along and lighting it; Elsi blinked at the spots it left in her vision.

“Maybe if you’d care to help, it might go faster.”

. ~0~0~0~

Elsi was eavesdropping again.

There was more to the art of eavesdropping than simply listening when you weren’t supposed to be. Not only did you have to know HOW to listen without being seen; you had to know WHO to listen to and WHEN.

Elsi was very good at it.

There were times where being a slave worked in her favor. Not only were you allowed to move through a household and be overlooked, but masters had a nasty habit of forgetting the slave was in the room - no matter the discussion. Why should you watch your tongue around the furniture? It’s not like the sofa can THINK, or anything.

This wasn’t the first time Elsi had used this oversight to her advantage, and it certainly wasn’t the last. It only took a day - during the three of the child’s naps, to be precise - for her to learn what she wanted to know.

Vice Admiral Viln’s payment was coming by courier in two days.

He was taking a risk with this investment. He had superiors that thought it was a waste of time.

Kue Fusa, the warlord, was still staying at Lord Burkisn’s manor. He was still hoping to usurp the Vice Admiral’s agreement via under the table deals.

Lord Burkisn was nervous. He agreed to hand the deal over to Fusa, should the Vice Admiral not be able to hold up his end of the deal.

Elsi could work with that.

~0~0~0~ .

As it turned out, Kuiil was a mechanical genius. If a part was broken, he fixed it. If they were missing a needed tool, he made one. The Mandalorian was pretty adept himself, but even with their combined skill and determination - the Mandalorian had been right - it took three days. Which was much faster than Elsi had figured; having fully expected to be stranded for at least another full week.

With the baby asleep, there wasn’t much for her to do. At first she resigned herself to fetching tools, preparing meals, and sweeping the dirt their boots tracked into the cargo hold. When Kuiil discovered that she knew a little about mechanics - not much, just enough to maintain small household devices - he set her to reinstalling some of the minor systems, i.e. the sonic shower, the conservator, the nanowave, etc. Elsi knew that they were relatively menial tasks - things that the Mandalorian probably would’ve been fine with fixing on his own time when the job was over and he’d been paid - but they both knew that Kuiil wouldn’t be satisfied until there was nothing left to be fixed.

So with the baby strapped to her chest in the cloth wrap she’d saved from their time at Lord Burkisn’s manor, Elsi worked dutifully on each new assignment, resigned to letting the Mandalorian check over her work every half hour or so. He still didn’t trust her, obviously. Though what she could possibly achieve by sabotaging his nanowave was beyond her.

Although he was right to be concerned by her taking advantage of the situation and turning it against him, in this case, there was no need. She wanted offworld almost as badly as he did.

More than that, she would never be so careless as to scheme in the manner she was expected to.

No. She had other ideas. They weren’t good ideas, but several months of being trapped in a compound in the desert with no resources and no access to the black market had left her rather low on options.

Elsi focused hard on the wires she held, tracing each of them back to their respective sources and trying to determine what was missing. She absently fiddled with her faulty bracelet as she worked. The beads clinked rhythmically against each other, the sound so quiet and regular that it faded naturally into the ambient sounds of the hold.

Click. Clickclick. Click. Click. Clickclick.

As expected, the clasp gave away. A few beads scattered across the hold, pinging off the metal grating. Elsi cursed and gave chase, supporting the child strapped to her chest with one hand while the other sought out the runaway beads.

The Mandalorian crouched a short distance away, bolting a metal sheet back into place along the wall. He only paused for a moment, visor casting the barest glance in her direction before turning back to the job at hand.

Elsi pressed a kiss to the sleeping baby’s head before shuffling back to her corner to restring the beads.

~0~0~0~ . . ~0~0~0~

At the end of the third day of repairs, the Razor Crest was deemed space-worthy and given Kuiil’s seal of approval. The Mandalorian stalked the length of the hold from cockpit to landing struts, inspecting every bolt and clearly itching to get underway. But he did pause long enough to offer the Ugnaut a job working on his ship. When Kuiil respectfully declined, neither the bounty hunter nor Elsi were surprised.

The Mandalorian tipped his head in acknowledgement, then retreated to a polite distance, loitering near the ladder to the cockpit so Kuiil could have a word with Elsi.

The Ugnaught turned his wizened face on the nanny, his sunken eyes solemn and heavy with sorrow.

“The child still sleeps?” Kuiil observed, nodding to the child still strapped to her chest.

Elsi touched her thumb to the tip of a fuzzy green ear poking out of the cloth. “Yes.”

“Do you expect him to recover?”

Elsi had considered the possibility that he wouldn’t - she was far too pragmatic not to - but the notion of him simply keeling over from simple overexertion didn’t seem to fit.

“I do,” she said. “I’ve seen him worse. He’s strong.”

Kuiil grunted, lowering his voice further. “And you will not reconsider my offer?”

“You are very kind, and I’m grateful for all you have done for me.” She shook her head slightly. “But no.”

He gave another grunt, bowing his head with acceptance. The Ugnaught extended his hands and took both of hers in his.

“Then I will bid you and your charge a safe journey. Should you pass this system again, know that you will always find welcome in my valley. May you find the freedom and peace that you deserve.” He gave her hands a final squeeze. “I have spoken.”

“Goodbye, my friend,” Elsi murmured, somewhat remorseful as the Ugnaught released her hands and began shuffling down the ramp.

The Mandalorian, seeing that the moment had passed, strode back across the hold. With a final nod to the Ugnaught, who had mounted his blurrg, the bounty hunter pressed the button on the wall to the ramp. The hydraulics hissed and groaned in response. The door closed, sealing Elsi and the baby in with the Mandalorian bounty hunter.

There was a heartbeat after the hatch closed where nothing happened. The only sound was the baby’s soft breaths against Elsi’s chest.

The Mandalorian tilted his head down to look at her.

“Come on,” he rasped. “You’ll need to strap in - at least until we make the jump into hyperspace.”

Without another word, the Mandalorian turned, cape swishing in the now-still air, and scaled the ladder. Elsi took a moment to scratch at the baby’s head before following.

The view of the outside world offered by the cockpit helped Elsi to feel a little less confined. The sun was setting, washing the dull grey chamber in orange and gold, serving to make it seem less like a tomb.

With the baby still tucked against her, she strapped herself into the copilot’s seat to the Mandalorian’s right. The Mandalorian flicked switches and pressed buttons. Elsi watched out of the corner of her eye, committing the sequence to memory in case it became relevant.

The engines roared to life. The Mandalorian took them up quickly but smoothly; soon the desert of Arvala-7 had fallen away, and all Elsi could see out of the viewport were stars.

The Mandalorian plotted their course into hyperspace. Elsi settled back into her seat to wait.

“How long will we be in hyperspace?” She dared to ask.

She wasn’t entirely sure that he would answer. In the short time they’d been acquainted, he had never seemed particularly interested in speaking with her; a sentiment that their brief intimacy had seemed to increase tenfold.

A sigh only just caught on his modulator. “Four days.”

That long? She knew better than to ask where they were going.

The ship lurched and the stars blurred, going from distant pinpricks, to smears, then to a vibrant, swirling vortex. Elsi’s ears popped. She worked her jaw to relieve the pressure, stopping when the bundle on her chest shifted. Elsi looked down to see a set of large, dark eyes blinking up at her sleepily.

The baby squeaked a greeting.

“Did you sleep good?” Elsi asked, surprised but pleased. The baby purred contentedly, then yawned. “Yeah?”

He chirped, his chubby fist reaching up to pat at his chin - another one of the signals she’d taught him. Hungry.

“I’ll bet,” Elsi agreed. She glanced up to see the Mandalorian had turned around in his seat. His head was canted at a curious angle as he watched the two interact. “May I take him back to feed him?”

The Mandalorian turned back stiffly to the controls, as if embarrassed that he’d been caught staring. His voice was tight and resigned, hardly more than a wisp of static. “Fine.”

Elsi unbuckled and left the cockpit. She’d become rather familiar with the Razor Crest’s layout over the last few days, and knew exactly where to go in her search for food. Behind the cockpit, on the other side of the landing with the ladder, was a tiny room. In it was the conservator, nanowave, and a compact stove, as well as a small booth half-built into the wall for space.

As the person who had been largely responsible for repairing and reinstalling the equipment, she felt more than comfortable fiddling around the tiny kitchen to prepare a meal. She’d also been the one to restock it with the supplies Kuiil had been more than generous to provide them - not much, but enough to keep the trio fed for the next four days - and so knew where everything was.

Elsi freed the baby from the wrap and sat him down on the table so he could stretch his stubby little legs. She rehydrated and heated up a decent sized portion of meat stew. The baby sniffed at it skeptically when she placed it before him, not a huge fan of rehydrated meat, but was far too hungry to be picky beyond blowing a raspberry when Elsi handed him his spoon. Objection voiced, he attacked the bowl with gusto.

“Slow down, lovely,” Elsi chided, tracing a finger fondly down the length of his ear. “You’ll make yourself sick.”

The baby blew another raspberry.

~0~0~0~ . . ~0~0~0~

Their first night on the Crest, Elsi and the baby didn’t see much of the Mandalorian. After eating, Elsi returned to the cockpit to offer to fix him a portion of the stew they’d eaten. He declined, not bothering to turn away from controls.

Elsi left it at that. Then she and the baby went down into the cargo hold in search of the child’s toys.

They spent the next few hours playing quietly in the hold. The baby seemed content to be on the move, even if he had no real concept of their destination or space travel. He was especially pleased to be free to toddle around and not be confined to his bassinet, as he preferred activity over sitting patiently and waiting for everything to be over.

When he finally tired, Elsi took advantage of the ‘fresher to clean him properly, bathing him in the sink with the body wash she’d found in the shower. It was stiff smelling and masculine, obviously belonging to the Mandalorian; plain and utilitarian, she recognized it from when she’d had her face buried in his neck, muffled though it was by the smell of sweat and desert.

As she squeezed some into her palm and massaged it into the child’s skin, she couldn’t help but breathe it in, and absently imagined the bounty hunter, fresh from a shower, smelling the same.

After his bath, Elsi finally took the time to clean the little creature’s teeth. Armed with a tiny brush from her small bag of toiletries, she set to work.

Elsi pulled back her lips, exposing her teeth. The baby copied the expression and held it patiently, allowing her to clean his little teeth with the soft bristles. When she opened her mouth wide, he did the same. And again when she stuck out her tongue.

If she had to be stuck caring for a being that would remain a baby for an untold number of years, she was glad it was him. If he had been a human baby, she would’ve lost her mind. He didn’t cry unless there was a genuine reason and then would usually stop when he knew that someone had noticed the problem. He didn’t produce much in the way of waste, and what did end up in his reusable diapers didn’t smell half as bad as that in human diapers and was significantly easier to clean. While he was intelligent enough to be a nuisance, it came in handy during stressful situations when she needed him to stay quiet or hide.

And in this case, it was quite nice to not have to fight tooth and nail to complete a task as mundane as brushing teeth.

It wasn’t until she was almost done that she glanced up enough to catch a glimpse of the dark shape looming behind her in the mirror. The Mandalorian stood in the doorway behind her, still as a statue and quiet as the grave.

Elsi ducked her head, startled and a little embarrassed at not noticing that he’d been standing there, watching them, for Maker knows how long.

“Apologies,” she said formally. “Are we in your way?”

The Mandalorian didn’t respond immediately. He just stood there for a few moments, like he wasn’t processing the question or even that she’d spoken to him at all. His body language betrayed nothing; he was just sort of… there. She didn’t think he was angry, so was this… surprise?

“No,” he said finally, his voice flat and emotionless. He turned and vanished.

The baby cocked his head, pursing his lips at the minty taste still in his mouth. “Bah?”

Elsi heard the hunter’s boots on the ladder, and only then did she let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding.

He had no right to be that sneaky.

Maybe she was losing her touch.

She seriously hoped not. Awareness kept her alive.

Even though he had said that they weren’t in his way, Elsi hurried to finish just in case. The baby was tired, anyway, so the sooner he got back to sleep - a proper sleep, not a coma - the better. She was tired too, having been unable to rest easy while her charge was unwell.

So as soon as she’d crawled into the alcove that she’d taken to sleeping in over the last few days and closed the metal shield separating the metal cot from the rest of the hold, she and the baby were quick to fall into peaceful slumber.

~0~0~0~ . . ~0~0~0~

One day passed. Then two. They’d be arriving wherever the Mandalorian was taking them in less than a day and a half, and Elsi was running out of time. There were things she needed to do, and once started, there would be no turning back.

Elsi sat at the end of one of the cots built into an alcove in the cargo hold, her legs dangling out into the hold while the baby played tiredly around her feet. It was ‘morning’ on the Razor Crest; she’d intentionally kept him up all night, hoping he would soon want a nice, long nap. This meant she was tired too, and while under normal circumstances she’d be more than happy to join him in a mid morning snooze, adrenaline coursed through her system like the most potent spice; she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep if she tried.

The baby dropped the wooden ball he’d been playing with and yawned, almost falling over with the force of it. He looked up at his caregiver with bleary eyes, reached up with both arms to be picked up.

Elsi obliged, but instead of bundling him up to sleep, she sat him on her lap facing her. The baby’s ears perked up - still sleepy, but curious - when Elsi looked deep into his dark eyes, searching for the right words to say.

The baby blinked patiently.

Elsi swallowed. When she finally spoke, her throat was so tight that her voice croaked. “We’ve come a long way, you and I. Haven’t we?”

The baby cooed. Elsi cleared her throat.

“I’m not going to lie to you. I’m running out of tricks,” she admitted, “and my luck won’t last forever.”

The baby smiled, reaching up to pat her cheek fondly. She’d never given him a reason to doubt her.

Elsi fell silent for a few moments, gathering strength to say what needed to be said. “I… uh… I don’t know what’s going to happen next, you know? And I hope with every fiber of my being that we… that we will be able to stay together… or at least… or at least that you won’t be alone again. Not like you were before. But in case we don’t… in case… in case I have to leave you…”

The child’s ears twitched.

Elsi took a deep breath. “Know that I care for you deeply, and I’ve done my best to care for you as you deserve to be. Yeah? And you’ll find someone else, won’t you? You cute little bastard.”

Elsi chucked wetly, pressing their foreheads together and closing her eyes. She felt the baby’s claws wander up to curl into the hair covering her temples. He pulled a little too hard, but Elsi didn’t mind.

“Someday you’ll find people who love you so much that you forget all about me,” she murmured at last. The baby tugged her hair sharply. Her soft grey eyes snapped open once more, fixing deeply on his. “And that’s okay. You got that? That’s a good thing.”

The baby twirled a lock of dirty blonde hair around his fingers, chuckling quietly to himself. Elsi smiled sadly, partially glad that he hadn’t been able to grasp the meaning of her words, partially disappointed. There were times where he could be so perceptive, but maybe it was a good thing that this wasn’t one of them.

Or, hell, maybe he DID understand, but thought that her words were unnecessary, that this wasn’t goodbye.

Elsi hoped he was right.

Blinking the moisture from her eyes, Elsi pressed a kiss to the top of the baby’s head and stood. Walking across the hold to the ladder felt a lot like walking to the gallows, but she was able to keep the dread from showing in her steps.

The Mandalorian was sitting in the pilot seat, a spot that he’d hardly left at all over the past two days. Elsi had seen the carbonite freezer in the back of the hold, and deduced that he wasn’t used to having bounties loose on his ship.

She was sure he’d considered it, and was grateful that he hadn’t. She didn’t peg him as an unfeeling man, and so imagined that he found the concept of putting a baby in carbonite unsavory. Elsi was another story - and she was sure that he wouldn’t hesitate to if she’d given him a reason - but with her frozen, the job of caring for the baby would default to the bounty hunter. He would probably avoid that contingency at all costs.

In lieu of the freezer, if Elsi wasn’t actively sleeping, eating, or caring for the baby, she was expected to be in the cockpit where the hunter could keep an eye on her.

Because of this, it wasn’t at all strange for Elsi to bring the dozy baby up the ladder to put him down for a nap. His bassinet had been left up here for that very purpose, strapped into the left-hand seat while Elsi would then settle into the right to wait in silence for him to wake.

The Mandalorian barely turned to look when she entered. Elsi gave a polite nod before sidling over to tuck the baby into the bassinet. The child mumbled softly when she tucked his blankets around him and placed Froggy within his grasp.

Elsi stood over the baby, quietly humming and trailing the top of her pinky finger over the bridge of his nose while she waited for him to drift off.

When he finally did, Elsi closed the shutters and went to sit in her own seat. She settled back into the worn leather, wrapping the cloak Kuiil had given her more snuggly around her to ward off the chill of hyperspace.

All the while, she twiddled the beads of her bracelet.

Click.

Clickclick.

Click.

. ~0~0~0~

It wasn’t nearly as hard as it should’ve been.

But, to be honest, it never was.

Men like the Vice Admiral, big and important and powerful men, never saw it coming. To them, death always came at the end of a blaster, carried out by a mercenary or soldier. Always an assassination. Never a simple murder, for there were always politics involved.

Never by a house slave. Never at the end of a sewing needle.

She told one of the maids, the one who had been assigned to care for the Vice Admiral, to take the evening off. The maid was happy to do so as it were, but it helped that she also owed Elsi a favor.

Dressed in their uniform, she looked no different than the other maids. Slaves were faceless creatures, interchangeable. When she brought the Vice Admiral his night cap, the finest from Lord Burkisn’s cellar, he didn’t once notice that the pretty young woman that usually brought his drink and dressed him for bed had been replaced by another.

She gave him his drink. He drank it.

She waited, her hands folded in front of her demurely. When his eyes raked over her body hungrily, she didn’t react. When he ordered her to undress him, she obeyed.

She waited.

He wanted her to touch him. He was a high born snob; he’d never stoop so low as to have sex with a lowly house maid - an average looking one, at that. That’s what the gorgeous sex-slaves were for. But it didn’t stop his hands from wandering. Palming her breast when she unbuttoned the front of his uniform. Making sure she got a good look when he stepped out of his trousers and underwear. Squeezing her ass when she walked past to fetch his robe and rubbing her thigh absently when she came back.

And so when she lingered while placing his robe on him, taking a moment to fiddle with the way the collar folded, he was nothing short of smug. Self-obsessed, unable to imagine a situation where a woman WOULDN’T want him, as aged and unpleasant as he was.

So caught up in the feather-light touch of her hands, he didn’t even notice the sewing needle prick his skin. It was quick. Painless. Right into the meat on his neck and out again, then tucked away back into her sleeve. She was careful, oh so careful, not to prick herself.

A poisoned needle was every bit as effective as a blaster.

The next morning, they would find him cold in his bed. Some would suspect foul play, but none would care enough to investigate, especially since there wasn’t a mark on him. He wasn’t a young man, and it looked an awful lot like heart failure. Lord Burkisn would inform the Imperial remnants that he’d died of natural causes, and determined the matter closed.

Hetta was outraged at losing her nanny. She stomped and wailed and cried.

The baby, though, was perfectly happy.

~0~0~0~ .

Hyperspace was quiet. Beyond the constant drone of the engines was a deafening, oppressive nothing. No matter how many times Elsi traveled through space, a part of her always expected the swirling vortex to make a sound - like a whirlpool, maybe, or a windstorm - and was then surprised when it didn’t.

It put her on edge. It was hard to blend into silence.

Twenty minutes or so had passed, and Elsi still sat in the seat, playing with her bracelet. The Mandalorian had gone back to ignoring her, which suited her just fine. Every so often the baby would mumble in his sleep, alerting Elsi to the fact that he would probably only sleep for another hour or so.

She twisted the leather braid around a finger and tugged. As before, beads scattered spectacularly across the floor, shattering the silence as effectively as glass. She grimaced at the sound, then looked to the Mandalorian for a reaction.

The bounty hunter’s shoulders rose and fell as he heaved a sigh. He flipped a switch, but didn’t bother turning around to look.

“Sorry,” Elsi mumbled, standing and stooping to chase after the beads.

Elsi knelt down behind the Mandalorian’s seat, fishing a few of the smaller beads from the ridge created by the juncture of the base of the pilot’s seat and the floor.

The headrest would pose an issue. But she thought she could turn it in her favor.

She stood, rolling the small handful of beads around in her hand, letting them clink together a bit before tucking them soundlessly into her pocket. Minus clasp and beads, the uncoiled bracelet dangled from her palm, reduced to a roughly two foot length of braided leather...

With a steel cord running through the center.

Elsi was practical. Even if she wasn’t sure of a decision, she knew better than to dwell on it. Now was no exception.

In one smooth motion, she wrapped the ends of the bracelet thrice around her hands, turned, and snapped the garrote twice around the Mandalorian’s neck.

And pulled.

With a grunt of surprise, his hands flew to his throat, clawing at the twisted leather in a vain attempt to get his fingers beneath it and prevent it from getting any tighter. The bounty hunter’s helmet banged back against the headrest, a strangled gasp bubbling out of the modulator.

Elsi wedged herself behind the chair, snaking the ends of the cord around the headrest edges in an attempt to keep him in the chair. The garrote bit painfully into her fingers, but she would never let go.

If she did, he would kill her.

Suddenly, the Mandalorian stood, ripping the headrest clean off the chair and yanking Elsi up with him.

She still didn’t let go. Instead, she used the momentum of being jerked off her feet to lock her knees into his waist so that he carried her on his back. Like this, most of her weight was on his throat.

He managed to draw his blaster and was able to squeeze off a wild shot behind him, narrowly missing Elsi’s head, before she was able to kick it out of his hand.

She knew he had a knife in his boot, but also knew that if he bent down to grab it, it would be easy for her to knock him off balance. If she got him to the ground, it would be over. He knew that, too.

The Mandalorian sobbed for air. One of his gloved hands groped behind him and managed to snag a fistful of her hair.

Elsi cried out in pain as he tried to yank her off of him. She was just able to turn her head and sink her teeth into his wrist between the glove and vambrace. She tasted blood. A strangled, airless groan ripped from his throat and he let go.

He was weakening rapidly. Staggering, he threw his weight backwards, slamming Elsi against the door to the cockpit.

A sharp pain radiated out from the center of her back. Still, she hung on.

Somewhere in the struggle, one of them hit the button to open the door. It slid open and they tumbled out.

The hunter’s movements had become clumsy. Out on the landing next to the ladder, he sluggishly threw himself sideways into one of the walls, his shiny new pauldron clanging metallically as they scraped past.

His legs gave out on him. The Mandalorian fell.

He landed on his knees, but Elsi’s weight on his back forced him the rest of the way down. The face of his helmet clattered against the metal floor.

For a few desperate moments, he continued to struggle. Elsi adjusted so she knelt in the center of his back, pinning him down for good.

His leather gloves squeaked as he scrabbled helplessly. The same gloves he’d removed for her only a little over a week ago.

He shuddered. All the life drained out of him, and he fell limp beneath her.

Elsi kept her hold, not trusting the stillness that had fallen over them. Her breathing was loud and harsh in the sudden quiet as she struggled to catch her breath.

She waited.

Elsi finally let herself believe that it was over and had started to feel a bit guilty. She didn’t think that the Mandalorian was a bad man. Whether or not he deserved death was beyond her realm of knowledge, but he’d generally been kind to her.

But what choice did she have?

Suddenly, the bounty hunter surged to life. With one last, desperate burst of strength, he flipped them over, rolling on top of Elsi and taking them both straight over the landing edge. Together, they fell down the ladder and into the cargo hold.

Elsi hit the ground first. All of the air was forced out of her lungs, both by the impact and by the weight of the fully armored man that landed on top of her. Mercifully, she managed to keep her head from splattering on the cargo bay floor, but could do nothing to prevent the back of the Mandalorian’s helmet from smashing into the side of her face.

Stunned, she gapped up at the ceiling, fading in and out of consciousness while she tried to remember how to breathe. Her vision swam with dark spots, but she was able to hear the desperate, ragged breath the Mandalorian drew when her grip on the garrote slackened.

The only thing she was aware of was pain. Even in her foggy brain, she knew she was hurt bad. Concussion, no doubt. Broken ribs, definitely, maybe even a fractured spine. She didn’t think she would be paralyzed, though - she knew she could feel everything because everything hurt.

There was no telling how long they laid there. Time was immaterial to Elsi, but she spent every second of it fighting. She fought to breathe, she fought to remain conscious, and she fought to regain control of her own body.

Even so, the Mandalorian recovered first.

She was completely powerless to stop him when he grabbed her by the throat and heaved her to her feet with the animalistic strength that came from pure adrenaline. Elsi tried to get her legs underneath her, but they wouldn’t obey, floundering helplessly as he dragged her deeper into the hold.

As she clawed at the hand closed like a vice around her throat, Elsi knew she was about to die. She saw her own reflection in the Mandalorian’s visor - saw the terror, saw the weak, pathetic little creature she was - and wondered if the last thing she ever saw would be a reminder of her failure.

All the thoughts were dashed from her head when her back slammed against something hard. For a split second, she was looking out at the Mandalorian from a kind of rectangular harness.

The air around her filled with freezing smoke, and all she knew was darkness.

~0~0~0~ . . ~0~0~0~

Darkness ate at the edges of Din Djarin’s vision, but he forced himself to stay standing until fog cleared and he saw the twisted, frozen face of the slave-woman.

Finally safe, he sank to the ground beside the carbonite freezer, and the last thing he was aware of before he lost consciousness was the distant sound of the baby crying in the cockpit.

~0~0~0~ .

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