#yeah ok people die. she may have killed one of them. whatever

[miseria-fortes-viros]

blue sargent for the unhinged ask game?

LOOOOVE HER. funniest thing abt her is she doesn’t have a lot of the issues that other blorbos tend to have so while they’re getting psychologically tortured and having the Worst time she is just vibing. love that for her. NOT saying she doesn’t have problems OBVIOUSLY. but she’s just living her life….she has 3 moms 4 besties and a hot boyfriend with broad shoulders AND she’s the coolest bitch u’ve ever met also.

[desiccatedwithering]

we live in troubled days (oh, my friend, we have the strangest ways) — ch 3/6?

(4k || read on ao3) (ch1 || ch2 || ch4)

“Ahoy,” Eddie says upon his return to the kitchen, compelled to keep pushing this button until it kills him. This is why he prefers to be the DM instead of a player.

Harrington just sighs and asks, “Everyone good?”

“Who?”

“Your bandmates? Are they good?”

Eddie freezes. Is this a trick question? Was Harrington eavesdropping on his phone call? No, he’s probably just trying to pretend to be a normal, friendly person who doesn’t kill people every year. Eddie forces his shoulders to relax and lets out a high pitched, awkward chuckle.

Harrington stares at him, eyebrows steadily climbing. Fuck. Right. He asked Eddie a question, didn’t he? Those usually require answers.

“Uh, kinda?”

Harrington’s eyebrows furrow, which is fair, because what the hell does that mean?

“I mean, I didn’t get through to everyone,” Eddie says, finally remembering how to string words into coherent sentences, thank god. He shrugs a little. “I’ll have to make some more calls later. If you don’t mind.”

Harrington waves a hand, turning back to the counter. “Yeah, no worries.”

Great. Time for another awkward silence.

He should’ve spent more time investigating Harrington’s room, done more than a cursory search of his desk. He’d been worried about spending a suspicious amount of time upstairs, but if he’d known that this was the alternative—

Eddie jumps a good foot in the air when someone behind him mumbles, “Cookies?”

He whirls around to find Robin Buckley standing right behind him, in a Hawkins High swim team hoodie and reindeer-patterned pajama pants, hair mussed, blinking at him with bleary confusion. “Jesus Christ,” he gasps, clutching at his racing heart. “Where the fuck did you come from?”

“I’ve always been here?” Robin says, frowning. Which is an extremely unsettling sentence.

“She took a nap after her shift this morning, so she’s been conked out upstairs for the last few hours,” Harrington explains, reaching out to grab her hand. She lets herself be reeled in, tucking herself into his side and accepting a mug of coffee with a pleased hum.

“Oh.” Eddie jams a hand into his back pocket, crossing his fingers. “I didn’t wake you up with my phone call, did I?”

Robin obnoxiously slurps her coffee, eyeing him with what Eddie feels like is an unwarranted amount of suspicion, given the fact that he was invited to this dinner.

“Don’t worry; she sleeps like the dead.”

“Except the nightmares,” Robin mutters.

Harrington rolls his eyes. “Well, yeah, obviously, but it’s pretty clear when you have those, ‘cause you wake up screaming.”

Jesus Christ. Was she a witness or (unwilling?) accomplice to Harrington’s summer rampage?

Wait, has Eddie been thinking about this all wrong? Is it possible that he managed to earn himself the freshmen’s seal of approval, and now he’s going to be inducted into the cult by participating in Robin’s murder?

No, she doesn’t fit the pattern (which does exist; fuck you, Gareth). She may be weird and nerdy in her own way, but everyone knows that she and Harrington are connected; the whole school was abuzz with gossip when the fallen king dropped her off on the first day. The most believable rumor Eddie’s heard is that Buckley is a succubus who learned how to control her powers over the summer and now has Harrington under her thrall. (Ok, yes, he was the one to suggest that, and no one else is talking about it. But the girls who’d “overheard” him had only rolled their eyes and not even bothered to call him a freak, so who knows. It might just be getting off to a slow start.)

There isn’t as much gossip circulating about them these days, but pretty much everyone who doesn’t live under a rock knows that they’re an item or whatever. Way harder to buck suspicion if everyone knows that you’re the victim’s best friend slash coworker slash boyfriend.

Eddie squashes the tiny spark of hope—not that he wants Robin to die; he’d just really rather not be murdered himself. Plus, it’d be easier to rescue someone else from being sacrificed, especially if he’s expected to participate and therefore has a knife; he doesn’t really think he’s athletic enough to save himself when he’s strapped down to an altar.

Harrington steals her mug to take a sip, then says, “Robin always wakes up on the second to last tray of cookies.”

“That’s how long it takes the smell to fill your stupidly big house. Also, I notice that you’ve failed to provide me with said cookies.” She holds her hand up expectantly.

Harrington rolls his eyes but dutifully reaches past her to grab a cookie and move it the whole five inches from the cooling rack to her hand. God, straight people are insane, Harrington especially.

Eddie heaves himself back up onto the island, and Robin perks up and asks, “Ooh, are we sitting on Steve’s counters today?”

“No,” Harrington says.

“Yes,” Eddie retorts, swinging his legs.

Robin grins at him and hops up beside him, fully ignoring Harrington’s aggrieved sigh.

“Fuck, there’s two of you now,” he grumbles. He glares at them for a second then inexplicably hands Eddie a glass.

Eddie accepts it cautiously, squinting at the contents. It looks like perfectly normal water, but honestly, who knows? There could be some sort of poison in there. Cyanide is water soluble.

“I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you,” Robin declares, “so there’d be no reason to complain if there were two of me.”

Harrington smirks at her. “Wanna try repeating that in front of Dustin?”

Eddie sniffs his glass surreptitiously. He doesn’t smell almonds, but with his luck, he probably doesn’t have the gene that allows you to smell cyanide, so he’d have no idea it was there until it was too late. The safest option is to not drink it. After all, it’s way easier to poison a person with a glass of water handed to them than with a batch of cookies that anyone might eat.

“Uh, no. I value my hearing, thanks.” She rolls her eyes, then tilts her head, looking towards the counter. “Hey, why’s your murder knife out?”

Ha! Eddie hasn’t been overreacting; that insane cleaver is a murder weapon. …Oh no, it’s a murder weapon. Should he be running now? No, he still needs evidence. Which means finding a way to get back into Harrington’s room and actually snooping around, rather than getting caught up in giving Gareth an extremely important status update.

“Eddie asked to see my favorite knife.”

Robin furrows her brow, glancing from Harrington to Eddie and back again. “Steve.”

“What?” Harrington turns to meet her eyes, and his brows shoot up. “Oh. You think?”

Robin nods, hands fluttering.

Eddie stares at her blankly, waiting for her to say actual words, but Harrington just hums thoughtfully and says, “Huh, I totally missed that.”

“What?” Eddie asks, but he’s completely ignored as Robin huffs a laugh and makes another indecipherable series of movements. Cool. Eddie will just listen to half an incomprehensible conversation, then. Like a game of charades but infinitely worse.

“Hey! Not yet, at least,” Harrington says. “And I mean, yeah, obviously.”

Robin raises her eyebrows and bites her lip, drumming her fingers on her thighs. Harrington tilts his head, sets his hands on his hips, and says—

Nothing.

Fantastic.

Alright. Theory one: Harrington and Buckley are cyborgs, sent back to the past to ensure their successful overthrow of the human race. Admittedly unlikely, given the fact that he’s been in school with them for long enough to know that they definitely age like normal people—unless they were recently replaced with cyborgs or their design is so advanced that they can convincingly mimic human growth. Not to mention the number of times Harrington’s wandered into class with his face all bruised and bloody, not a hint of metal in sight. And Eddie seriously doubts he’s some sort of Sarah Conner; there’s no way he’ll ever be a vital part of fighting an apocalypse.

Theory two: Telepathic powers. Telepathy doesn’t really strike him as the sort of power that’d lead to a person becoming a murderer—though maybe he’s just biased from reading X-Men. ‘Cause, like, what if you heard something awful, like someone thinking about the best place to plant their bomb? Then it’d be your moral obligation to stop them, right? Kill one person to save many.

Though Eddie’s not really sure how Harrington’s probable victims fit into this scenario. Sure, Eddie’s thought some nasty things about the jocks at school, but he’d never actually hurt anyone. Just thinking about something doesn’t mean you’ll actually do it. There’s no way Barbara Holland or Bob Newby would’ve gone around setting buildings on fire just because they were bored and wondered how easy it would be to get away with. (Which is a question that Eddie’s never had, for any mind readers listening in right now.) And Hargrove’s thoughts were probably just as terrible as his actions, but the fact that he would beat people up for fun is what really matters, not whatever was going on inside his head.

Surely the first rule of telepathy is judging someone on their actions rather than their thoughts, right? Because most people have enough self restraint to not give in to their worst impulses.

Maybe instead of wanting to kill him for some sort of thoughtcrime, Harrington wants to kill him because his thoughts are inherently a crime. Like, maybe Eddie’s brain is just too loud and chaotic, and Harrington can’t tune it out, so murder is the only option if he wants to ever have peace again. He’s heard the kids mention Harrington’s headaches in hushed, secretive voices. And if they’re Eddie-induced headaches, then obviously they’d want to help Harrington kill him. He doesn’t have any illusions about where their loyalties lie first and foremost.

Can you hear me? Eddie thinks as loudly as possible, imagining the sound traveling straight from his head to Harrington’s like a phaser beam.

Harrington scratches just behind his ear, which isn’t very conclusive.

Hey, Harrington. Harrington. Harrington. Are you listening?

Harrington jolts and snaps his fingers. Is that a yes? He pulls something out of his pocket—probably a switchblade—and says, “Oh, hey, Rob, I got you an ornament for the tree.” He tosses it over to her, and she lets out a delighted gasp.

“Holy shit, Steve,” she says with actual human words, “he’s beautiful. Where did you find him?”

“At the thrift store,” he says, pleased as punch. “The woman who owns it gave him to me for free.”

“God, who would put a treasure like this at the thrift store?”

Harrington shrugs. “Some people have no taste.”

“What is it?” Eddie asks, leaning closer.

Robin hold it up so he can see better, and Eddie is confronted with the most fucked up Rudolph he’s ever seen. Honestly, it probably wouldn’t be recognizable as any sort of animal, let alone a reindeer, if not for the bright red nose on its sorry excuse for a head.

“Fuck, that’s incredible,” he breathes, reaching for it without thinking.

Harrington preens.

“Don’t even think about stealing him, Munson,” Robin growls, clutching melty Rudolph to her chest protectively and hopping off the counter to put some distance between them. “I’d fight to the death for him.”

He holds his hands up placatingly. “I wouldn’t dare, Buckley.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” Harrington starts, glancing at Eddie. “I didn’t want the kids to see this, so—” Harrington turns away, rooting through one of the cabinets for his sacrificial blade.

Does Eddie have time to make a run for it? He takes a surreptitious glance towards the doorway, only to find Robin oh-so-coincidentally in between him and his path to freedom.

So this is how it ends. Stabbed to death, throat slit in Steve Harrington’s kitchen at the tender age of nineteen.

He’s had a good run of it. Sure, he’s failed to graduate from high school twice, and he’s about to die a virgin, murdered by his crush, but— Yeah, he doesn’t have an end to that sentence. This whole thing absolutely blows.

“Here you go!” Harrington says brightly, spinning around with all the enthusiasm of a hyper puppy.

It’s genuinely unfair that he still looks this unfathomably hot when he’s literally stretching his arms forward to stab Eddie in the gut with—

Eddie frowns. Unusual weapon choice.

“What is that?”

Harrington rolls his eyes, propping one hand on his hip. The other gives the thing he’s holding a little jiggle. “Maybe you’ve never gotten a gift before, but the whole point is that you don’t know what it is until you unwrap it.” Then a second later, he winces. “Shit, that was— Sorry.”

“I thought we weren’t exchanging presents,” Eddie says warily.

Harrington shrugs. “I wasn’t going to invite you over and then force you to get me something, dude. That’d be a dick move.”

Dumbfounded, Eddie takes the present. He shakes it automatically; Harrington snorts but doesn’t protest the investigation. Nothing rattles, and it feels solid. Eddie’s fairly certain that it’s a book rather than something deadly. He still holds his breath as he breaks the seal of the tape, slowly peeling the paper away.

“Oh,” he breathes, blinking rapidly like that might change what he’s looking at.

“Do you like it?” Harrington asks, anxiety clear in his voice. Eddie’s fairly certain that he’s wringing his hands right now, though he can’t manage to actually look at him to check. “Will said it was published this year, but if you already bought it for yourself, I have the receipt, so you could get something else. Sorry, I don’t really know what you like other than Dungeons and—”

“Uh, no,” he croaks. “I mean, this is— I don’t have it yet. Didn’t. I—” Jesus, he feels like he’s going to vomit. He makes the mistake of glancing up, catching sight of Harrington, yes, wringing his hands, brow furrowed, putting on an Oscar worthy show of concern, and—

“I have to go call Gareth bye,” Eddie blurts, words probably unintelligible with how fast he spits them out. He darts for the stairs before Harrington has a chance to react.

“Gareth, he bought me Unearthed Arcana,” Eddie hisses the second the line connects.

“Um. Gareth, it’s for you,” a woman who is very much not Gareth says hesitantly. She hasn’t even bothered to cover the receiver, which is rude, frankly. “Some weirdo talking about digging? Dirt? I don’t know.”

There’s a muffled, “Oh, Jesus Christ,” and then Gareth says, “Yes?”

“Gareth, it’s me, your friend Eddie who is not a ghost yet but will be soon.”

He sighs, like dealing with Eddie in mortal peril is the greatest hardship of his life. “Yeah, I figured. It’s been, like, fifteen minutes; what could you possibly be having an issue about already? You freaked out my cousin.”

“Unearthed Arcana,” Eddie repeats. “Harrington bought a D&D book. Dungeons and Dragons.”

“Yes, I am aware of what ‘D&D’ stands for,” Gareth says drily.

“He bought a D&D book for me.”

Gareth lets out a low whistle. “Shit, now I kinda wish I was invited. Seems like a better party than my family’s having right now. Do you think I could’ve gotten a new drum out of him?”

“You are not helpful,” Eddie says, gritting his teeth.

“Oh, sorry. It’s so tragic that a cute boy bought you the book you’ve been whining about for months. Do you think you’ll manage to survive this ordeal?”

“Do you have memory issues? Obviously not because he’s planning to murder me.”

“Why would he buy you a present before killing you?”

“It’s actually for the kids, and he just gave it to me to lull me into a false sense of security? Or maybe his deity requires happy sacrifices. I don’t know! I’m not in his head!”

Gareth sighs again and asks, “Why am I the one who keeps having to deal with you?”

“Because you’re my nearest and dearest friend,” Eddie replies, voice saccharine.

Gareth scoffs.

“And because I didn’t want to piss off Jeff's mom, and Frank would just get me even more riled up. I need to keep a level head if I want to make it out of here alive.”

“This is you keeping a level head?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?!” Eddie shrieks.

“God, I hate being one of the only sensible people you know,” Gareth groans.

Eddie rolls his eyes. Like he’s not sensible. What does Gareth even know? He— Holy shit what is that?

“Hold that thought,” Eddie says, though he honestly doesn’t know what Gareth was just saying, so it might not have been a thought that merits holding. Much more important at the moment: “I’m being stared at by some sort of demon.”

“What.”

“It’s like some sort of fucked up cat?”

“Fucked up how?”

“I don’t know, it’s just creepy? And it’s staring directly into my soul. Like, you know that awful lemur that you had to do a project on? The one you complained about for weeks because you said it was giving you nightmares?”

“You said you would never bring it up again!”

“Well, anyway, picture that in cat form and then increase its evilness by approximately a thousand percent, and you might have a decent idea of what I’m looking at right now.”

“Christ, and this lives in his house?”

“Apparently. Unless it crawled in through whatever portal to hell he’s planning to shove me through.”

The sudden knock on the door would’ve given him a heart attack if it hadn’t been the familiar tap-tap-tap-tap, tap-tap pattern that the freshmen are always using. God, they’ve conditioned him, like one of Pavlov’s dogs salivating when it hears a bell. Have they trained him in other ways that he just hasn’t noticed yet?

“Uh, hey,” Robin says, hovering awkwardly just outside the room.

“Gare, I gotta go. I’ll call you later.” He just barely catches himself before saying hopefully.

“You really don’t have to. I—”

Eddie sets the phone down, then turns just enough so that he can face Robin while keeping the demon in his peripheral vision.

“Are you ok?” Robin asks and then gives him exactly zero seconds to answer. “Listen, I told the dingus down there that he shouldn’t buy you a present because it would make things awkward, but he’s, like, infuriatingly stubborn when he gets an idea in his head. So I get it. Or, I think I do. I don’t actually know what upset you, exactly. Is he coming on too strong? Or is buying books for a DM after they hit high school some sort of, like, nerd faux pas?”

“What? No, it’s not. Why would—?”

“Look, I don’t know what Steve did to you in high school, but I can promise that he’s not trying to buy your forgiveness or, like, flaunt his wealth or anything like that. He really does just genuinely enjoy getting people gifts. And I think it makes him feel better to use his Pawn Fund to make other people happy. Otherwise it just sits around, collecting dust and making him miserable.”

“Pawn Fund?”

“My name for it, not his. His asshole dad cut him off as soon as he graduated high school. But his mom and dad have… issues, so whenever his mom wants to piss his dad off, she sends Steve money. It’s fucked up and manipulative, but at least it means that Steve can spoil the kids at holidays.”

“Right,” Eddie says faintly.

“If it helps, you can just think of it like a gift he’s giving the kids, with you as his middle man or puppet or something.” She winces. “Ok, phrasing it like that makes it sound bad, but you get what I mean!”

Eddie honestly isn’t sure that he does. “I— Sorry, I can’t focus. Are you aware there’s some sort of hellcat in here?

Robin follows his line of sight, then lets out a horrified gasp. “Oh, Steve’s gonna kill you for insulting his baby.”

Fuck, what Eddie wouldn’t give for the ability to summon his DM poker face in times of crisis.

Whatever expression he makes sends Robin backpedaling furiously: “Kidding! Steve doesn’t have a violent bone in his body. Unless you threaten to hurt the kids, and then he’ll hit you with a car. But there were extenuating circumstances there, and he didn’t, like, enjoy it. Honestly, I think it sucked for him because getting into a car crash when you already have a concussion can’t be fun. But if he hadn’t, the kids and Nancy would be, like, definitely dead, so—” She finally stops for a breath and seems to take note of the fact that whatever that was didn’t help the situation even remotely.

“Okaaay,” she says, eyes darting around the room. She claps once. “Forget literally everything I just said! The point is that whatever you think you know about Steve, you’re wrong. I know what he and his friends used to be like in school, and I know what all the nerds and outcasts thought of him. But he’s nothing like that, ok? He’s honestly the best person I’ve ever met, so if all this—” She gestures at all of him “—is because of your preconceived notions about Steve? Knock it the fuck off. I’ll kill you before I let you hurt my soulmate.”

“Um. Noted,” Eddie says, because that honestly feels like the only safe response he could give.

“Ok, great!” Robin claps again and grins at him. “Now that that’s sorted, you should come back to the party. Steve just heard through the walkie chain that Mike is finally off his phone date, so the kids are actually on their way now. Come on. You, too, Keys.”

Eddie watches as the hellcat jumps down from the bed and trots over to Robin. “Harrington’s cat is named Keys.”

“Her legal name is Carmilla—”

“Like the vampire?”

“Yep.” Robin scoops the cat up, and she immediately perches on her shoulder like some sort of bizarre gargoyle. “But Steve has a friend in Indianapolis named Camilla—without the r—and he thought it’d be weird for her. Which she thought was weird, since she’s never been to his house and never plans to, so why would it matter, right? But Steve thought it’d be an issue or whatever, so we usually call her nicknames. I like Keys—or Car Keys—because I think it’s hilarious that she always tries to steal Steve’s keys to stop him from going to work.”

“Right,” Eddie says again. “Why not just name her something else?”

“Because she was pretty feral when he first got her and kept biting him hard enough to draw blood.”

“Ah.”

Robin frowns at him. “You still seem weird.”

“I’m not being weird!”

She gives him an unimpressed look. “I watched you pour an entire glass of water into a plant.”

“It looked dry!” It did not. It was probably the most vibrant and colorful thing in this awful house.

“A fake plant.”

Ah. Well, that would explain why the water just conspicuously pooled on top of the soil. He curls his shoulders in, tugging some hair across his face in a futile attempt to hide his blush. “Oh.”

“So, again, why are you being weird?”

“I’m always weird?” Eddie gestures to himself. “Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson, remember?”

She rolls her eyes. “Yes, yes, you’re bizarre and off-putting; we get it. What’s actually up, though?”

“Nothing.”

She tries to set him on fire with her mind.

“Fine! I just— Has Harrington been replaced by a pod person or something?”

“Ugh, is he doing that thing where he doesn’t want to seem like a bully, but he overcorrects and is way too agreeable and it’s creepy?” Once again, she doesn’t wait for an answer. “I’ll deal with it. Now come back downstairs.”

Eddie casts one last forlorn look around the room, then trudges after Robin. Next time he’s in here, he will actually investigate. No more panicked phone calls to Gareth. But for now, he has to try to act normal around Harrington to assuage Robin’s suspicions. So once more unto the breach. He can do this.

*

(ch4 on ao3 or tumblr)

If you haven't read Do You Mind? (will you mind?) by GreenQueenofClubs (the fic where Steve is a telepath and Eddie's brain is too loud for him to tune it out), I'd highly recommend it!!

[bokipop]

the maka ramble i mentioned because im still autistic

ok so im rewatching as i speak and like skipping through to find the evidence for my claims so claims will be in order of when they come to me

lesbian maka is canon because near the end of the first episode she's literally screaming about how she hates men and wishes they all would just die. i can literally never see maka in a relationship with a man other than MAYBE soul (DISCLAIMER i DO NOT ship soma i will die on the hill of qpp soul and maka) but thats only because she literally says as she's screaming about killing men that soul was the only man she ever decided to trust (this is a whole other segment that i may or may not discuss in this rant)

can we talk about the skill maka demonstrates when she's fighting with soul. she's what. 14? and she fights with aura of years of experience. like soul's pretty much just along for the ride it's maka who's doing all of the actual fighting 90% of the time (10% when soul's being a self sacrificing dipshit and jumps in front of a hit meant for her)

can we talk about how in uhhh episode 4 when they're fighting sid and sid like attacks maka with his gravestone and she says "people need fear to survive, we experience it so we can grow stronger" LORD DEATH IS SO RIGHT WITH THE COMMENT "if she wasn't afraid in this situation id call that reckless, but maka has the courage to fight in spite of her fear"

i saw a tumblr post about it but unrelated why does dtk say "my father's school is exactly like i expected" as if he hasn't been there before

also unrelated but BLAIR IS MY BIGGEST OPP SHE'S LITERALLY A PEDO I HATE HERRRRR

anyways can we also talk about how maka and soul did soul resonance without any warmup or discussion before hand it was just "hey lets do it" "ok" i mean yeah they missed the hit but they still did the skill

jumping wayy forward to the crona vs maka underground fight in ep20 can we talk about even just maka's intuition alone. like she had the vaguest hint of whatever she detected in crona's soul and decided to go full blast with it. adding onto that can we talk about her compassion and empathy? like it takes a truly good person to do what she did for crona and she did it without the expectation of anything in return she simply wanted to help them. she has such a strong and admirable moral compass i think i said this before but she's literally one of my biggest inspirations ever

i'd talk about the last episodes where maka goes inside soul's. soul. and saves him from the black blood but i dont feel like rewatching that entire episode right now and i've only seen that specific episode like twice so i cant do it from memory

but on the topic of soul and maka can we talk about their incredibly intricate bond. their trust in eachother is out of this fucking world liek if you asked either one of them "if x asked you to jump off of a bridge with them would you do it" they'd say yes without hesitation or second thought. they care so much for one another and i love how the writers of soul eater portrayed it without it being inherently romantic. i love male female duos who ARENT in love. have i mentioned how i'd die on the hill of qpp soma. THEY'RE QPPS YOUR HONOR. i had something very specific to say about this and then forgot. it'll probably come back to me later. its later as i type this specific sentence and it still hasn't come back to me so i'll probably end this post here. stay tuned for more i think i have more in me

[mable-stitchpunk]

So hi, big fan of your work. Too few fics touch on like the whole possession aspect of FNAF, imo. Seriously I swear I’ve seen more time travel fix it fics than like ones that actually attempt to cover the whole ghost aspects of FNAF, which admittedly cannon is not helping.

Anyway, tangent aside, I wanna ask an odd question, both in fic(s) and or generally.

Remember how in like sister location where there was like those two technicians that were hung for no good reason? You know those very important characters that uhhh… got an all of an ‘ok’ from the fandom. Thoughts?

seriously can’t believe how much death matters so little in this franchise, where the main villain is like a mad scientist two kills people over remnant or whatever and yet we get absolutely nothing about his crimes. not even like a concrete number??? like c’mon? it’s like William someone Saturday morning cartoon villian and not an actual horror game villain, thou I suppose that would require Scott to you know write a character that isn’t like rambling about at this point arguably ‘supernatural’ gloop. Like c’mon, can we get more than like ‘I am so evil and smart’ out of William, please.

Sorry about the ramble I have thoughts

Oh, thank you so much! And glad to hear it! 8D I can get it though. Possession can be a whole lot to get into. I got lucky enough making a really insanely long fic, but if I would've stuck to only twelve chapters it would've been much harder to handle it.

Though I do LOVE handling it. My favorite part being able to deconstruct where characters end and where the person they used to be starts. There's just so many layers to it! Not to mention the supernatural aspect of how far you can push it.

I will... admit that I haven't thought much about those technicians, but largely because they weren't really given much to think on. XD SL was a pretty short game, but if it HAD been longer, it might've been cool to have more moments where you could overhear the technicians talking. It could've added more context to the situation in the facility and shown the distance and dissonance between Michael and his other workers- I.E. contextually show he's a loner or showing that he is purposefully distancing himself from his co-workers. Or just showing how poorly the whole thing is being managed.

Heck, there could've been a segment where Michael has a conversation over the radio with one of them- a one-sided conversation or recording- that could've also added story context.

I suppose that wasn't required, but it could've given then a little more.

However, I definitely feel there should've been at least one line from Baby that explained why they couldn't use their bodies. Because I've seen people questioning this, and while it could be as simple as 'they wouldn't fit' or more likely 'Baby was targeting who she thought was Afton', the game doesn't specify either.

Really a line such as "It can only be you" or "You are the only one who fits" could've gone a long way.

As for in Home, at least, I actually played around with the idea of bringing the technicians back as animatronics in the future... but then I thought it would be too much of a reach. So instead, we must settle on Michael Afton and that Body we found in the Vent.

...

...

...

And yeah, the death thing bothers me too. >.< BUT the death thing bothers me a lot more with the addition of Remnant not just being metal infused with souls, but also a God material that reanimates and replaces flesh and brings back the dead.

Death willy-nilly causes it to lose impact (Walking Dead lol), but introducing something that ERASES death is hands down the biggest way to lose all stakes in a story. It is a crime against writing, lol.

This might seem weird to say because of how death is treated in Home- where someone may die and become an animatronic- but there's both an absolute death, where one cannot return, AND when someone 'dies' and becomes an animatronic they still have to deal with very serious consequences. Their life is now completely changed; in a way, they have still lost that old life.

But with remnant, there is no drawbacks. There isn't a Death Becomes Her twist where the body still breaks down. As long as you're not made of scrap metal- in which case you just have to carry remnant (a material without a shelf life) around with you- it basically fixes you up like brand-new.

And the fact that it also erases the need for death to explain animatronic creation makes the whole system very wibbly-wobbly. Though I suppose we can take consolation in the fact that so far, remnants application in the games isn't nearly as severe.

...Err, sorry about the length of that. XD

[vole-mon-amour]

2x03, part 1.

Oh wow. OH WOW???? I'M— That's is soooo uncharacteristic for Kaz. And for once, it fits.

She's the only one who can beat his ass and stay untouchable. Get his ass!!

Damn it. I think they nailed it. Even the memory of that in the book gets me all riled up. I'm so mad at Rollins and what he did to those kids. I'd say "Damn it, Jordie", but really, it wasn't his fault. They were just orphans against the entire world, and Jordie wanted the best for him and Kaz. He could he could trust this man. The question of rolling robbing them and leaving them to die, though? How can somebody to that is another topic.

And that's why I disliked you even in the books. :) Funny, though, and very convenient to turn back into the prince when the situation needs that. "My Tsarevich."

For once, I agree with Alina. Show him who's the boss.

I have an ao3 tab open since 2x01. And I am definitely reading that after finishing the season. :) This is a good moment.

Honestly, the way they mixed up the books and something that didn't exist in it.

Wait, WHAT??????? Somebody explain pls. Surely they're not hinting at Jesper and Wylan having sex before????? Surely it's something else???

Jesper is precious.

A Merchant's son. The one whose father hired people to kill him. My good, their stories! The book is sucking me back in.

Yeah, Jesper, you're a goner. :') Just like you were with Kaz. I'm still convinced that if Kaz was more... available, maybe? Then something would have happened. Bc there's no wonder in my mind that Jesper has a crush on Kaz in the books.

I mean, technically, she may be right. But she constantly demands of him. I mean, yeah, she's loyal, but so are other crows? And they don't ask anything in return because they know who they are dealing with and what comes with it, pros AND cons? Sorry if I stick with Jesper that will follow Kaz to Hell and accept that maybe not blindly, but quietly. He'll be ok with Kaz scolding him or whatever. Doesn't mean it should be that way forever, but Jesper knows what comes with it. He trusts him. He loves him. So why's Inej special, huh? The fact that she pushes Kaz into telling her = pushes him away. Let him have this at his own pace. "Oooh, I don't care about your trauma, oooh, tell me immediately." Piss off. Perfect couple, my ass.

Like here. Jesper ACCEPTS it. Jesper will follow him. Kaz means so much to him. He doesn't entirely understand Kaz, but he TRUSTS him & waits for him when Kaz needs him to.

And before anyone says anything, K*nej is my absolute notp. Choose the reason that suits you, but I will never ship Kaz and Inej. Kaz can stay with Jesper and Inej can stay with Nina.

Gorgeous. Stunning. Breathtaking.

No fucking way? Wait, did Kaz tell her in the books? I believe he didn't, and definitely not at that moment? HELLLOOOOOO??? I'm not really sure. A re-read is a must now.

That is a beautiful gesture. *sigh* His hands are shaking, and yet.

It was Kaz's trauma that pulled him back from Inej in the books. Not Nina. I don't need this implication that they would've kissed if it wasn't for Nina. Yeah, I'm having a hard time watching those scenes, just like I knew I would.

Now THIS I ship. "She missed Nina." Girlfriends. <3

He. Him.

A badass!!

Not Genya :( Get fucked, Sasha. Get fucked.

Are they... holding hands? I'm so confused about how they portray Wesper. It's out of nowhere!! C'mon, they hold hands the entire time & I'm so disappointed??? Jesper doesn't know him at all. He calls him a stranger. It's so logical in CK, what happens here????

Kaz прикладывается к бутылке? Like, yeah, he drinks when he stressed out, but to carry a drink with himself, everywhere? Is this the Kaz we know?

[danganronpasurvivoraskblog]

HELLO.

FUCK YEAH! The Monokubs are back with a vengeance! Hold your applause!

Um...I don’t think they’re applauding...

...Ok...Everyone’s going to need to take two steps back for a second.

...

*Monotaro literally takes two steps backwards.

It’s a figure o’ speech, moron! She doesn’t mean actually do it! And why’re you listenin’ to ‘er anyways!?

...Just trying to be polite...Yeesh.

Demands aside...ain’t she kinda cute? That long silvery hair’s givin’ me a ROCK HARD RAAGEEERR!

...Lovely...Care to introduce me, Shuichi?

Why me...?

Because you clearly know these creatures.

“Know” is puttin’ it lightly! Last time we saw this bastard, he got us all blown up by pops!

Don’t make me out to be the problem! You made me watch all my friends die, then had the AUDACITY to beg for your life when it was put into question!

There’s no Killing Game rules to protect you, so if I wasn’t tied up, I’d rip you all apart myself!

Yikers! Where’d this savage come from!? This is way ouuta character!

They’re from your world then?

They’re the Monokubs. I think I told you about them before. They were umpires of the V3 Killing Game and Monokuma’s children/assistants during it’s duration.

They all got destroyed after Tsumugi was exposed as the Mastermind. She must have rebuilt them somehow.

Heck yeah she did! We’re back, and we’re better than ever!

Shirogane’s gonna make the world BURN! And we’re gonna be there to see it! Count on that!

*Monokid strikes a riff on his guitar excitedly.

Yes, yes. Now, with introductions out of the way...here, may I ask what the 5 of you are doing here? I was under the impression I had assigned you all your own tasks.

Oh yeah! Well, I WOULD tell you why we’re here...but I actually kinda forgot.

Ugh! Montaro never changes...Monodam, YOU do it.

*Monodam approaches Dr Ando, carrying a weird ball-shaped object.

THIS-IS-THE-LAST-OF-THE-BOMBS, DOCTOR. MOST-OF-THE-BATCHES-HAVE-BEEN-COMPLETED. THERE-SHOULD-ONLY-BE-ONE-MORE.

Excellent work, all of you.

Bombs...!? What for?

For the parasites of course! Organization Zetsubou plan to contain the parasites in special test tubes, then insert them into a large amount of bombs.

Once all the bombs are loaded, they’ll drop them on multiple countries around the world, and then-

They’ll mind control thousands...!?

!!?

MONOPHANIE! They ain’t supposed to know that, you fucking dumbass!

Oops!

No, don’t worry. It’s quite alright. No doubt they would have come to that conclusion sooner or later.

*Ando does basically what Monophanie just describes. He takes the parasite from before, places it into the test tube, and slots it into the bomb. He then hands the bomb back to Monodam.

Take this away, and make sure it gets back with the others. And tell the clones of your father to come down here for security reasons.

Okie-dokie doc! No promises I’ll remember, but promise that the others will!

All: So long, bear well!

*The Monokubs begin to leave.

You won’t get away with this! Mark my words, you’ll never get to take away people’s free will like that! We’ll do whatever it takes to stop you.

...

*Monodam, carrying the bomb, turns around to stare at Shuichi.

Wh-What?

FREE-WILL-IS-NOT-IDEAL. THE-FREE-WILL-OF-HUMANITY-IS-WHAT-PREVENTS-PEOPLE-FROM-GETTING-ALONG.

ACTING-IN-FREE-WILL-AND-TO-YOUR-DIFFERING-GOALS-AND-IDEALS-IS-THE-VERY-REASON-FUTURE-FOUNDATION-AND-ORGANIZATION-ZETSUBOU-ARE-FIGHTING-IN-THE-FIRST-PLACE.

WITH-THAT-IN-MIND, ARE-HUMANS-NOT-BETTER-WITHOUT-IT?

...!

...

*Monodam says nothing more and leaves with the bomb.

[mlobsters]

supernatural s14e9 the spear (w. robert berens)

this recap is so long and covering so much plot bs from this season, never a good sign :p

more extremely unfortunate monster teeth, sheesh

all right, garth is back. like a lot of side characters i see passing chatter about in fandom, i thought he was in more episodes

CASTIEL Jack. If you can't sleep, that's understandable, given recent events. JACK You mean dying and coming back to life. CASTIEL Yeah, we've all been through it. It's something of a rite of passage around here

ignoring sam's supposed comments about the cookie crisp knockoff. but this made me snort

JACK Cas. The deal you made -- why can't Sam and Dean know? CASTIEL They can. I -- I just don't I don't want them to. They don't need that burden. You don't need that burden. JACK Of course I do. You did that for me. CASTIEL You know, the Empty said that it wouldn't come for me until I had finally given myself permission to be happy, but with everything we have going on, with -- with Michael still out there, I don't see that happening anytime soon. This life may be a lot of things, but it's rarely happy.

LOL well. he's not wrong

KETCH Look, I improvised. It's not as if I have access to the top-shelf clandestine courier networks I did during my British Men of Letters days. And really, so, whose fault is that, hmm? SAM Okay, K-Ketch, we're -- we're not mad, - W-We appreciate the effort. DEAN Do we?

they didn't really do the work of convincing me i should come around on ketch but whatever. this made me laugh

looks like he's using a zoom background

DEAN Okay, well, getting the spear is literally a trip to the Carter Lake recycling facilities. I say we get both. Me and Cas -- we'll go deal with Michael's monsters and get the spear. You and Jack -- you do your mail run and get the egg. We'll meet back at Hitomi Plaza with both weapons, and we'll hit him from both sides.

i'm sure this will go off without a hitch! totally did a double take, thought hitomi plaza was nakatomi plaza (from die hard lol)

CASTIEL You seem good lately. Happy, even. You -- We have a broken tape deck, we drove this whole way without music, and you did not complain once. DEAN You know, I guess I'm just fired up. I mean, look. We got -- We got Jack back. When was the last time we had a big, no-strings-attached win like that? CASTIEL But now we have Michael. DEAN I know. CASTIEL And, Dean we're taking a big risk going after the spear like this. DEAN I know we are. Listen to me. Michael conned me. Kept me trapped and drowning inside my own body. Now, when you and Sam were possessed by Lucifer, I -- I thought I understood, but I didn't, not really. So, yeah, if we get a chance to trap him, I'll take that, but I won't be truly happy until he is dead and I kill him. And now I have a chance to do that, so, yeah, I'm good. Let's go.

all right then. another rite of passage, forcibly possessed by an archangel

least she gets to look badass with her spear, even if she has to go by goofy dark kaia name

DEAN Well, then, you should just kill me. There are people that I care about -- my family -- and they're in danger. Michael, the one who tortured me, the one who tortured you -- he's gonna hurt them and kill them. And then, worse. Thousands will die. And the only thing in this world that will stop him is the spear in your hands. So if you're not gonna give it to me, kill me.

they're always pulling the family card. but, their family is perpetually in mortal danger.

DARK KAIA The boy. The special boy. The one that used Kaia to open up the door? He can do it again, for me. DEAN Yes, he can.

LOL at cas's side eye

this whole speech (which i admittedly am partially tuning out) from michael to jack reminds me of amara trying to convince dean of how great it'll be together for eternity. without the god-whammy assist

sammy, i thought you agreed to not go in alone, what are you doing

ok well that was mostly repercussion-free, for once. also i like the effect of the bland instrumental christmas music quietly echoing through the parking garage, sets a very particular vibe

this is all actually a die hard reference isn't it? lol. slow on the uptake. it's been a while since i've seen it. but the music it just switched to. ode to joy, finally clued me in (i've played that on the clarinet [badly] and violin [slightly less badly], look at me). annoyed how they chopped it :p

should have at least tried to enlist kaia to wield the spear against michael, she's clearly better at it

MICHAEL!DEAN Yeah. When I gave up Dean, you didn't think to question it, to ask why? Dean was resisting me. He was too attached to you, to all of you. He wouldn't stop squirming -- to get out, to get back. So I left but not without leaving the door open just a crack.

was wondering if we were ever going to get back to that. too attached to sam first, and right, all of you too

MICHAEL!DEAN To break him, to crush and disappoint him so completely that, this time, he'll be nice and quiet for a change -- buried. And he is. He's gone. And now I have a whole army out there, waiting, ready for my command, ready for this.

so what do we need now, an archangel to wield the archangel blade to stab dean? and man, now kaia doesn't get her spear back? she's gonna be pissed. i imagine shadow guy or lucifer or somebody gets all up in this too at some point

[i3utterflyeffect]

I know absolutely nothing abt Wandersong so I can't ask any specific questions (;;-o-) BUT!!!!!!! take this ask as blanket permission to talk about any thoughts u have on the game that u want to, canon or AU

if u want some prompting, I saw ur MRD crossover and went 👀👀 I'm curious what ur AU changes from the game(s)!

oh!! okay so basically im going to split this into parts hang on

BUT. YOU ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO PLAY WANDERSONG ITS SUCH A GOOD GAME. ITS SO FUN AND YOU WOULD LOVE MIRIAM AND BARD THEY'RE SO LOVABLE

ANYWAY!!!!!!! godbard au will be under the cut in case its not way too horribly late for you to not be spoilered sfdgklgslg

Mad Rat Miriam

ok aside from this post basically. the combo means that miriam has a much longer time period that mad rat and instead of the entire world ending it's just her. audrey is basically herding her towards a cat and i feel like she's actually pretty violent before bard is like 'NOOO STOP IT'

bard may have been a cat but they're very nice and would not kill anyone. because that is mean and they are NOT mean. they may have been a stray but they'd always just beg for scraps from humans instead and give them the wettest eyes if they try to feed them a mouse.

mim is also still very distant from other people bc yeah she's still a lab rat and she's learned to not be too attached to other ppl and beside she's already alienated bc she's Weird. so bard is really the first time she's been friends with someone and the fact that she's going to die upsets her deeply. but she's glad she got to meet this stupidly nice little heart because god they're too nice but also they're so friendly and kind to her despite everything.

audrey is very much a beastie of instinct and instead of describing herself as a 'rat god' she more describes about as miriam's 'hero', 'guardian angel', whatever fits the bill for that sort of thing. even tho she very much is not and is scaring miriam into going where she wants since mim is not really a huge fan of the wish thing

a lot of the cities of wandersong is just a bunch of stray rats living and Fucking Chilling. and rat god is still a sort of legend thing but it's kind of a horror story where people go wandering into nowhere and never return.

ALSO. the heart battle is so fucking insane i bet. like bard HATES the idea of fighting miriam but they have to do SOMETHING because clearly mim isn't in her right mind. a lot of the fight is a test of patience i bet bc of this

also also! another counterpart of jack is dream king but he DOESN'T CARE about eating mim at all. lazy guy. audrey is not happy about this.

king of hearts is the main one tho since he starts drowning in place of jack and mim decides to save him!!!!!!!!

most of the monsters in general are just hallucinations

anyway miriam and bard have just this strangely similar dynamic to mad rat and heart. violence and 'be nice to people please :)' + Provider Of Beats

plus it's interesting to explore something where the person with their head on straight is bard bc you don't really equate someone happy-go-lucky like that to be the most realistic between the two! usually it's the pessimist but nah its bard this time <3

godbard au

anyway so basically i want to talk about audrey here bc she's been accused of killing bard and since she's basically forced to come along with miriam and bard she's very upset.

BUT. something very important: i feel like she believes in thought crimes.

she's always prided herself on heroism and she never really thought about it before but after some time around Normal People as a Normal Person she starts to get fucked up over her new thought patterns that she developed by being a hero

this gets even worse when bard and miriam start treating her with genuine concern and kindness because she hates them, and she's certainly thought about killing them

as people start talking abt her she becomes more self conscious and it eventually comes to a climax as she is found out and people go on a full-on witch hunt over her

she's very very prone to violence and as she realizes how fucked up her destiny to end the world is she goes into a downwards spiral as she begins to think about awful things more and more and about if she HAD killed them and watched the life drain from their eyes (and she wouldn't have even felt bad)

and if she finds her sword she only gets worse as the intrusive thoughts get worse and more within reach of being completed and she can't take it

and. um

basically i gave her ocd hours. and i feel like i'm correct <3

[james-fun-in-the-sunderland]

pt 2 . still vicky. 31, 35, 40, 51, 67, 69. 🙄

NO need for all of these rolling eyes SMH... u didnt evven have to send these sirrrr

ANYWAY link back to the 69 ttrpg asks i GUESS

31. do they respond well to praise? how about criticism?

as said in the last ask he does respond well to praise however it all depends on WHO is praising and how OVERT and how OFTEN... praise him too much and he'll get MAD but praise him too little and he will also get mad, he doesnt respond well to criticism. if you criticise him too much he may actually completely hate ur ass, but thats if he thinks it isnt deserved and EVEN THEN he will still get annoyed like whatever man >:/

35. when did they feel loneliest?

i feel like this ones a LITTLE obvious but while his mom was in the hospital probably! his childhood home would be all empty he'd have no one to come home to and he would only come home after doing jobs and visiting her so he had no time for literally anyone or anything else, not that he really had the energy for anything else anyway, at least after she died he would go out and just talk to anyone off the street but while she was still alive it was just him and a dying woman while he pushed away anyone else bc he felt extremely vulnerable during this time too (he was also like. 25 so he was also just dealing w being a young adult and all the angst there so . he was NOT doing well)

40. if you had to remake this character right now, how would you change them?

GOOD QUESTION id probably make his hair different, change his backstory a lil and quite a few scars ! alot of stuff w him is either in active development or straightened out so id probably change more of the actually established stuff ... maybe give him a different clothing style, make him more outward with some traits like his musical ability... hmmm this is such an interesting q

51. what element of their backstory are you proudest of?

ALOT OF IT im always very proud of my lil characters backstories hehe... i try to make them all make sense for the person a character has developed into and i feel like vickys especially really reflects that, if i really had to choose one aspect it would be how death just follows him all throughout his backstory, people dying annd leaving him left and right making him really feel surrounded by it ya kno... not even just with the obvious stuff like ALOT of his childhood friends end up dying lmao its just fun themes ...

67. do they consider themselves to be special?

NO absolutely not, hes literally described himself as just another average joe DESPITE COMPLETELY NOT BEING ONE . this man cannot die and works for like 5 different mobs and yet hes like nah im just a normal single father man, idk why ur saying im so weird. he also just gets weirded out by the idea of someone finding him so special... ofc he really would love to be special in a way he can control, i suppose thats really it huh, he really loves control and if people find him special for his deathlessness or anything its like... ok but he doesnt CONTROL that... he can control his talents though so if someone found him special for that hed be like YEAH literally im so cool

69. what’s one secret they don’t want getting out?

the classic. lets go through the obvious ones, his deathlessness, even though its an open secret he really doesnt like people talking about it, his crime too of course but he doesnt even care that much about that either, like even less, his daughter even knows and has talked abt how he kills people for money so... his whole past is a secret even to his daughter bc hes just a private person... i suppose also the main one would be his real name (for people who dont know his real legal name isnt actully vicky love, its louis cox! ( louis pronounced louey bc hes french lol)) he started fully going by vicky when his mom died so he just doesnt like to be called louis bc it reminds him of his 'past life' ... hes got alot of secrets huh... these are really the only things he DOESNT want to get out tho, most other things hes private about he doesnt really care if people learn it

[crumbledcastle28]

Chapter 1: a tug

Warnings: PTSD, sadness, depression, panic attack, mentions of violence

Author’s note: this is part one of my series called “Burning Red.” This is kind of boring because it is a set up for the main storyline, but I hope you enjoy it! Any constructive criticism and support is greatly appreciated. And if I missed a warning, please let me know!!

After everything you’ve seen, everything you’ve done, everyone you’ve hurt, it felt good to just lay low.

A mechanic on tatooine was not what you imagined, but it did the trick.

No one saw you for who you truly were, and that made you happy.

Well, except for Peli.

You came to her sick and angry and alone, and she nursed you back to health. You would be rotting in the desert if it wasn’t for her, and you felt you owed her a little something.

So, you used your “uncommon” set of abilities to help her with her mechanics in any way she needed.

This included: cooking, cleaning, repairing, negotiating, and most importantly, defending.

Peli was no dummy. She knew you had more experience in that field than she did. So she recruited you, and paid you back with whatever she had laying around. A new outfit once and a while, a warm bed, a hot dinner, and a couple of credits so you could go shopping and get out of her hair.

You couldn’t blame her. You were a hell of a lot of trouble to be around.

Constant nightmares, paranoia, and regret surrounded your aura like a fog. Any normal person wouldn’t notice, but someone like Peli could. And it pissed her off a good majority of the time.

“Stop moping and help me clean this oil off my droid,” and sentences like this one, were said pretty frequently around your place.

Was it even your place? All you did was survive. Is that enough to say you lived there instead of just survived there?

You really liked Peli. She gave you a base. A “home” of sorts, and for that you were forever indebted.

But something in you always called you back to your real home, and that scared you more than Peli’s tough love. More than you could even describe.

~~*~~

It was a pretty normal day on Tatooine. The wind howled, the sand covered everything in its wake, and the heat. You would never get used to it.

You were eating your breakfast when a ship landed on the landing pad, and you could already tell it was a doosey just by the way the left engine was sputtering.

If this ship explodes, we better get a damn good pay, you think to yourself.

The ramp starts to open and you take that as your queue to start the walk to your makeshift room. It was really a storage room, but you didn’t mind.

When you get there, you squat down to the ground behind your door and grab your apron and set of tools. You knew Peli would need some help with this ship.

You hear the ship’s ramp hit he ground and you feel it.

A tug.

Not even a tug, a lurch. It felt like a rope had been tied to your soul and pulled you back into your old self.

This was a tug you hadn’t felt in so long. So long, it almost knocks you off your feet.

I closed myself off from this, you think. I shouldn’t feel this. I don’t want to feel this.

You already feel a headache coming on from the shock and ache in your bones, so you start walking back to the landing pad to tell Peli you aren’t feeling too well.

If I get recognized, we are both dead.

You’d rather get a scolding from Peli than a scolding hot gun wound in your chest.

“Hey,” you hear Peli shout at the client, and you pick up your pace. Your heart is hammering in your chest and you feel the panic ooz through your body.

It’s been so long since you’ve felt this, but you hate how it makes you feel alive.

You finally make it to Peli and you see her speaking very loudly (she doesn’t like to use the word “yelling”) at what seems to be your client.

But this is no ordinary client. This is a Mandalorian.

A very broad Mandalorian who, no offense to Peli, could knock her out in his sleep.

You had heard legends of their kind. But worst of all, you had fought them. And damn were they good.

You hadn’t seen any since the purge. You had heard rumors of them hiding under ground, but they had always been peaceful people. You hated how they got dragged into a war.

“You damage one of my droids, you’ll pay for it,” Peli says, and you really wish she would use a more peaceful tone.

The last thing you want to do right now is fight a very impressive looking Mandalorian covered entirely in beskar while your entire body is tingling.

Is he the one who is force sensitive?

“Just keep them away from my ship” he says, and you are surprised at how well he is taking Peli’s annoyance.

“Yeah? You think that’s a good idea?” Peli responds in a tone dripping with sarcasm and you take this as your moment to try to sneak away.

This however, was unsuccessful.

“Come on y/n. Let’s take a look at his ship,” she says and the Mandalorian turns his helmet towards you.

You probably look like an absolute mess. Your chest is heaving, you are sweating, and you are not at all prepared to do any sort of repairs. You are basically in your pajamas. The Mandalorian’s gaze has you nervous enough, but this familiar feeling in your stomach has you dizzy and nauseous.

Just hold on......

You start to follow Peli to the ship while still looking at the Mandalorian. You learned very early on in your life to never take your eyes off a predator. He follows your form and you try your best to mask his incredibly strong force connection gripping your chest.

This man isn’t even trying to hide it? It’s almost as if he is reaching for me?

You make it to Peli where you finally take your eyes off of him. You can see why Peli was so mad now.

“Oof! Look at that,” she says as she scans the ship with her eyes. “You’ve got a lot of cabron scoring up top. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were in a shoot out.”

Oh my God, he was in a shoot out.

This is really not good. This man could have been followed and you could be surrounded at this very moment. You were a skilled fighter, but those kinds of odds were almost unbeatable. Especially when you were still trying to hide your identity.

You are so tense you feel like you could snap. You still feel his eyes on you, and you are praying to whatever is out there that you can just stay alive. That’s the only thing you’re good at.

“Name’s Peli Motto. That’s y/n,” she says as she points to you with her wrench.

She did not just tell him your NAME.

“This is my operation. You’re not gonna find a better mechanic on the planet,” she says as she leaned in closer to the engine.

“Yeah, I’m gonna have to rotate that. You’ve got a fuel leak. Look at this, this is a mess. How did you even land?”

All you wanted to do was scream.

He is a MANDALORIAN who was just in a SHOOT OUT. He is probably being FOLLOWED and we could be dead because of ME.

“That’s gonna set you back,” she says.

She is concerned about MONEY right now?

Peli is a smart woman, but she was walking you into a trap. You didn’t want her blood on your hands. You didn’t need any more of that.

All of this is happening while you are still on the verge of a panic attack.

This Mandalorian is strong with the force. It is squeezing your lungs and your feet and your hands and your brain. All rational thinking is out the window. You had to get out of here before he manages to suffocate you.

God you hate this feeling. A few years ago you lived with this constantly. It became a part of you. Something you enjoyed. But now...

“I’ve got five hundred imperial credits,” the Mandalorian says.

Imperial credits. Great. How did he get his hands on those?

“That’s all you got? Well..” she says and looks back at you.

“What do you think,” she asks in a teasing tone.

You try to plead to her with your eyes. You are sweating beyond belief and your brain is about to explode.

She tightens her brows in confusion at your state, but continues to bargain.

“That should at least cover the hanger,” she says and you feel your jaw almost drop to the floor.

How can she not see it?

“I’ll get you your money,” the Mandalorian mumbles and you try to take a deep breath. Passing out in front of one of the fiercest warriors in the galaxy who may be here to kill you would rip off the last bit of pride you had left. If you are going down, you are going down with a fight.

“I’ve heard that before,” Peli responds and looks at you in a joking way. Like she was trying to coax you into laughing with her.

You try to chuckle back, but it just comes out in a low breath.

You sound insane.

“Just remember—,” the Mandalorian starts

“No droids. I heard ya,” Peli finishes.

“Why do you think I keep this girl around,” she says chuckling with a pat on your back.

You muster up the strength to smile and feel holes burning in your head from the Mandalorian’s gaze.

He really knows how to stare.

The Mandalorian leaves the hanger, and it takes everything in you not to pass out right there.

You thought with him leaving it would die down, but it’s only getting worse.

“Are you ok,” Peli asks and helps you lower yourself to the ground.

You are breathing frantically now and your hands are clutched to your chest.

“He has it,” you say and you know Peli knows what you mean.

She looks at you with wide eyes and you see the realization on her face.

“Oh my god.... he was in a shootout,” she says.

“Uh huh,” you breathe out. The desperate force connection is starting to fade and you feel your lungs fill up with air once more.

“He could have been followed! Or he could be here to—“

“Kill us,” you say. Peli hates when you finish her sentences, but there was no point in caring right now.

“Ok. Get inside. If I need you I will call for you,” she says and you nod, slowly getting to your feet.

You start to walk back to your room, with Peli’s arms guiding you, while taking deep breaths, but you freeze when you sense something else coming out of the ship and you snap your head to the ramp.

“What,” Peli says as she follows your gaze.

Your heart flutters. The force is slowly starting to ease its nasty grip on you.

If you didn’t sense the creature, you would miss it.

A little green baby, wrapped in what looked like a potato sack, was strolling down the ramp, looking directly at you.

“It’s him,” you say.

“He has it.”

[cappymightwrite]

What draws you to incest ?

*sighs* Ok, here we go. I'm a real card carrying Jonsa now aren't I?

Anon, listen. I know this is an anti question that gets bandied about a lot, aimed at provoking, etc, when we all know no Jonsa is out here being all you know what, it really is the incest, and the incest alone, that draws me in. I mean, come on now. Grow up.

If I was "drawn" to incest I'd be a fan of Cersei x Jaime, Lucrezia x Cesare, hell Oedipus x Jocasta etc... but I haven't displayed any interest in them now, have I? So, huh, it can't be that.

Frankly, it's a derivitive question that is really missing the mark. I'm not "drawn" to it, though yeah, it is an unavoidable element of Jonsa. The real question you should be asking though, is what draws GRRM to it? Because he obviously is drawn to it, specifically what is termed the "incest motif" in academic and literary scholarship. That is a far more worthwhile avenue of thinking and questioning, compared with asking me. Luckily for you though anon, I sort of anticipated getting this kind of question so had something in my drafts on standby...

You really don't have to look far, or that deeply, to be hit over the head by the connection between GRRM's literary influences and the incest motif. I mean, let's start with the big cheese himself, Tolkein:

Tolkein + Quenta Silmarillion

We know for definite that GRRM has been influenced by Tolkein, and in The Silmarillion you notably have a case of unintentional incest in Quenta Silmarillion, where Túrin Turambar, under the power of a curse, unwittingly murders his friend, as well as marries and impregnates his sister, Nienor Níniel, who herself had lost her memory due to an enchantment.

Mr Tolkein, "what draws you to incest?"

Old Norse + Völsunga saga

Tolkein, as a professor of Anglo-Saxon, was hugely influenced by Old English and Old Norse literature. The story of the ring Andvaranaut, told in Völsunga saga, is strongly thought to have been a key influence behind The Lord of the Rings. Also featured within this legendary saga is the relationship between the twins Signy and Sigmund — at one point in the saga, Signy tricks her brother into sleeping with her, which produces a son, Sinfjotli, of pure Völsung blood, raised with the singular purpose of enacting vengence.

Anonymous Norse saga writer, "what draws you to incest?"

Medieval Literature as a whole

A lot is made of how "true" to the storied past ASOIAF is, how reflective it is of medieval society (and earlier), its power structures, its ideals and martial values etc. ASOIAF, however, is not attempting historical accuracy, and should not be read as such. Yet it is clearly drawing from a version of the past, as depicted in medieval romances and pre-Christian mythology for instance, as well as dusty tomes on warfare strategy. As noted by Elizabeth Archibald in her article Incest in Medieval Literature and Society (1989):

Of course the Middle Ages inherited and retold a number of incest stories from the classical world. Through Statius they knew Oedipus, through Ovid they knew the stories of Canace, Byblis, Myrrha and Phaedra. All these stories end more or less tragically: the main characters either die or suffer metamorphosis. Medieval readers also knew the classical tradition of incest as a polemical accusation,* for instance the charges against Caligula and Nero. – p. 2

The word "polemic" is connected to controversy, to debate and dispute, therefore these classical texts were exploring the incest motif in order to create discussion on a controversial topic. In a way, your question of "what draws you to incest?" has a whiff of polemical accusation to it, but as I stated, you're missing the bigger question.

Moving back to the Middle Ages, however, it is interesting that we do see a trend of more incest stories appearing within new narratives between the 11th and 13th centuries, according to Archibald:

The texts I am thinking of include the legend of Judas, which makes him commit patricide and then incest before betraying Christ; the legend of Gregorius, product of sibling incest who marries his own mother, but after years of rigorous penance finally becomes a much respected pope; the legend of St Albanus, product of father-daughter incest, who marries his mother, does penance with both his parents but kills them when they relapse into sin, and after further penance dies a holy man; the exemplary stories about women who sleep with their sons, and bear children (whom they sometimes kill), but refuse to confess until the Virgin intervenes to save them; the legends of the incestuous begetting of Roland by Charlemagne and of Mordred by Arthur; and finally the Incestuous Father romances about calumniated wives, which resemble Chaucer's Man of Law's Tale except that the heroine's adventures begin when she runs away from home to escape her father's unwelcome advances. – p. 2

I mean... that last bit sounds eerily quite close to what we have going on with Petyr Baelish and Sansa Stark. But I digress. What I'm trying to say is that from a medieval and classical standpoint... GRRM is not unique in his exploration of the incest motif, far from it.

Sophocles, Ovid, Hartmann von Aue, Thomas Malory, etc., "what draws you to incest?"

Faulkner + The Sound and the Fury, and more!

Moving on to more modern influences though, when talking about the writing ethos at the heart of his work, GRRM has famously quoted William Faulker:

His mantra has always been William Faulkner’s comment in his Nobel prize acceptance speech, that only the “human heart in conflict with itself… is worth writing about”. [source]

I’ve never read any Faulker, so I did just a quick search on “Faulkner and incest” and I pulled up this article on JSTOR, called Faulkner and the Politics of Incest (1998). Apparently, Faulkner explores the incest motif in at least five novels, therefore it was enough of a distinctive theme in his work to warrant academic analysis. In this journal article, Karl F. Zender notes that:

[...] incest for Faulkner always remains tragic [...] – p. 746

Ah, we can see a bit of running theme here, can't we? But obviously, GRRM (one would hope) doesn’t just appreciate Faulkner’s writing for his extensive exploration of incest. This quote possibly sums up the potential artistic crossover between the two:

Beyond each level of achieved empathy in Faulkner's fiction stands a further level of exclusion and marginalization. – pp. 759–60

To me, the above parallels somewhat GRRM’s own interest in outcasts, in personal struggle (which incest also fits into):

I am attracted to bastards, cripples and broken things as is reflected in the book. Outcasts, second-class citizens for whatever reason. There’s more drama in characters like that, more to struggle with. [source]

Interestingly, however, this essay on Faulkner also connects his interest in the incest motif with the romantic poets, such as Percy Bysshe Shelley and Lord Byron:

As Peter Thorslev says in an important study of romantic representations of incest, " [p]arent-child incest is universally condemned in Romantic literature...; sibling incest, on the other hand, is invariably made sympathetic, is sometimes exonerated, and, in Byron's and Shelley's works, is definitely idealized.” – p. 741

Faulkner, "what draws you to incest?" ... I mean, that article gives some good explanations, actually.

Lord Byron, Manfred + The Bride of Abydos

Which brings us onto GRRM interest in the Romantics:

I was always intensely Romantic, even when I was too young to understand what that meant. But Romanticism has its dark side, as any Romantic soon discovers... which is where the melancholy comes in, I suppose. I don't know if this is a matter of artistic influences so much as it is of temperament. But there's always been something in a twilight that moves me, and a sunset speaks to me in a way that no sunrise ever has. [source]

I'm already in the process of writing a long meta about the influence of Lord Byron in ASOIAF, specifically examining this quote by GRRM:

The character I’m probably most like in real life is Samwell Tarly. Good old Sam. And the character I’d want to be? Well who wouldn’t want to be Jon Snow — the brooding, Byronic, romantic hero whom all the girls love. Theon [Greyjoy] is the one I’d fear becoming. Theon wants to be Jon Snow, but he can’t do it. He keeps making the wrong decisions. He keeps giving into his own selfish, worst impulses. [source]

Lord Byron, "what draws you to—", oh, um, right. Nevermind.

I'm not going to repeat myself here, but it's worth noting that there is a clear through line between GRRM and the Romantic writers, besides perhaps melancholic "temperament"... and it's incest.

But look, is choosing to explore the incest motif...well, a choice? Yeah, and an uncomfortable one at that, but it’s obvious that that is what GRRM is doing. I think it’s frankly a bit naive of some people to argue that GRRM would never do Jonsa because it’s pseudo-incest and therefore morally repugnant, no ifs, no buts. I’m sorry, as icky as it may be to our modern eyes, GRRM has set the president for it in his writing with the Targaryens and the Lannister twins.

The difference with them is that they knowingly commit incest, basing it in their own sense of exceptionalism, and there are/will be bad consequences — this arguably parallels the medieval narratives in which incest always ends badly, unless some kind of real penance is involved. For Jon and Sansa, however, the Jonsa argument is that they will choose not to commit incest, despite a confused attraction, and then will be rewarded in the narrative through the parentage reveal, a la Byron’s The Bride of Abydos. The Targaryens and Lannisters, in several ways excluding the incest (geez the amount of times I’ve written incest in this post), are foils for the Starks, and in particular, Jon and Sansa. Exploring the incest motif has been on the cards since the very beginning — just look at that infamous "original" outline — regardless of whether we personally consider that an interesting writing choice, or a morally inexcusable one.

Word of advice, or rather, warning... don't think you can catch me out with these kinds of questions. I have access to a university database, so if I feel like procrastinating my real academic work, I can and will pull out highly researched articles to school you, lmao.

But you know, thanks for the ask anyway, I guess.

[fruitcoops]

Ok so what sbout remus/sirius being too sick to go to an away game so the other one has to go alone, and then tons of facetime conversations and "get well soon" videos from the team?

This is related to this fic about Remus and Finn bonding over terrible reporters--hope you enjoy! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove, and the Loops/ Talker bonding is for @lee-1012!

TW for illness

“You don’t look so good.” Remus frowned as he held the inside of his wrist against Sirius’ forehead. “And you definitely have a fever.”

“Non.” Sirius sat up on his elbows with a groan, then almost immediately flopped back down.

“Yes.” He leaned back on his heels and checked the clock—they had two hours before they had to be at the airport. “Baby, I don’t think you should—”

“ ‘m going.”

“It’s not a good—”

“Gotta go. Games.” Sirius cracked one glassy eye open. “Two weeks away. I’ll take the first couple days off.”

Remus sighed through his nose and brushed his sweaty hair out of his eyes. “You shouldn’t go on the plane if you’re sick. Not just for your sake, but for the rest of us. We don’t need everyone to come down with this.”

He received a halfhearted glare in response, but Sirius finally huffed and curled on his side to nuzzle against his thigh. “I’m gonna miss you.”

“I’ll miss you, too, baby,” Remus said quietly, bending to kiss his temple. They hadn’t been apart for that long since before he was a player, nearly a year prior. Hell, he had never played a game without Sirius, let alone two weeks’ worth. “Lily will check on you, okay?”

Sirius mumbled an incoherent response and cuddled closer when he began combing his fingers through his hair. The second alarm beeped, loud against the quiet of their bedroom; time to go, he thought ruefully. Sirius touched his knee as he started to stand. “Love you. Be safe.”

“Love you more.”

“Love you most.”

“Go back to sleep,” Remus said as his heart clenched. “I’ll let Coach know what happened, but you’ve got to rest and take care of yourself. Hydrate or die-drate, yeah?”

“Yeah. Love you.”

“Sleep,” he repeated, kissing his forehead once more before hauling himself out of bed and tucking the covers around Sirius’ shoulders. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

------------------------

The clouds were a soft, pastel pink around them as the sun rose—Sirius’ favorite. If his phone was correct, Lily would be there soon to let Hattie out and make sure Sirius wasn’t pushing himself too hard. The thought brought Remus a bit of relief, but not enough to quell his concern.

Talker poked his forearm, snapping him from his reverie. “What’s going on?”

“Just worrying.”

“About Cap?”

Remus waved a hand vaguely. “And Hattie, and Lily, and whether he’s got a cold or something worse. Feels weird being here without him.”

Talker hummed his agreement and offered one of his earbuds. “Want to listen to half of Bohemian Rhapsody with me? It’ll give you five minutes and 55 seconds of relative peace.”

“It’s too quiet,” James groaned just before he pressed ‘play’.

Across the aisle, Remus saw Kasey roll his eyes. “Your husband is sick, dude, not dead. He doesn’t talk to you on planes anyway.”

“It’s the principle of the thing, Bliz.”

“Oh my god,” Kasey muttered under his breath, securing his headphones tightly over his ears.

James let his head flop to the side with a baleful look. “Loops, you’re on my side, right?”

“I’ve got you, buddy,” he assured him. Talker stifled a laugh, and the opening chords began as more clouds rolled past. Remus let himself drift with them, taking deep breaths to soothe his worries; Sirius would be fine. He had the sniffles, or at worst the flu, and he would be join them for the second week in top form. There was nothing to worry about.

---------------------------------

“He’s got pneumonia,” Lily sighed.

“He what?”

“A mild case, but the doctor said it would take a week of antibiotics and rest before he’s close to a hundred percent. No hockey for about a month, too.”

Remus stared at the wall of his empty hotel room, lost for words. “Well, fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“Fuck.”

“Pretty m—absolutely not, go lay down.” There was a rustling noise and two grumbling voices. “Sorry about that.”

“Will you put me on speaker real quick?” Remus asked, pinching the bridge of his nose until he heard a faint click. “Sirius? You there?”

“Yes! I miss you, and I was just going to tell you that it’s really not that—”

“Please sit your ass down. Lily, if he tries to fuck around and find out exactly how nasty pneumonia is, you have full permission to sit on him. I miss you too, love,” he added after a short pause.

“He’s blowing you a kiss,” Lily informed him. “Oh, and he’s giving me the puppy eyes.”

“Resist if you can. Love you both. Give Hattie lots of cuddles from me.”

“We will,” she promised.

The second the call ended, Remus groaned aloud and thumped his head against the wall before padding down the hall. Just my fucking luck. The door swung open after the second knock; Arthur’s face fell. “How bad is it?”

“Mild pneumonia.”

“Fuck.”

“Yep. Doctor said he’d be out for a month.”

Arthur rubbed his eyes and nodded, motioning Remus back towards his own room. “Get some rest, then. I’ll let everyone know in the morning. Any idea how he got it?”

“Not a clue.”

“Thanks for the update, Loops. Sleep tight.”

“I will,” Remus lied as he headed back for a sleepless night between cold sheets.

----------------------------

Lily sent updates every few hours; most reported that Sirius was sleeping well and looking better with each passing day, but Remus couldn’t help but feel overwhelmingly guilty. If something happened while he was hundreds of miles away, he would never forgive himself. He had sworn in front of their closest friends and family to be there in sickness and in health—what kind of husband ditches their partner for one of a million roadies?

This one. He stabbed a piece of broccoli and shoved it in his mouth. And then he goes and makes an idiot of himself for the world to see.

The interview was supposed to be easy, but he couldn’t let it roll off anymore. Not when he couldn’t answer their questions even when he wanted to, not when he was states away from the love of his life while he was sick, not when he felt helpless and shoved aside in every current aspect of his life.

“So.” The chair next to him creaked as Talker planted his full weight in it and set his plate decisively on the table.

“What.”

“Oh, pissy Loops. Haven’t seen you in a while. Talked to Cap yet?”

“Yeah.” Another piece of broccoli fell victim to his frustration.

“How’s he sound?”

“Better.”

“Sweet.” Talker continued to munch away on his dinner. “Anyone ever told you that you have the general disposition of a wet cat when you’re upset?”

Remus tried and failed to keep down a smile. “I seem to recall you bringing it up on occasion, yes.”

His dark eyes softened and he bumped their elbows together. “He’ll be okay.”

“I know.”

“Really, Loops. Cap’s going to be just fine. Lily doesn’t sugar-coat this kind of stuff, and he’s a tough guy. Mild pneumonia doesn’t stand a chance. Besides, we’ve only got four days left and we need you to kick some ass out there.”

If Remus was a little more emotionally vulnerable, he would’ve burst into tears. Instead, he settled for leaning his temple against Talker’s with a quiet ‘thanks’ and allowed himself to be pulled into a side hug. Across the dining hall, Finn shot him a thumbs-up and a wink. “Love you, man.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” Talker teased. “The internet is already coming to your aid, you know.”

“About…?”

“Not only have those asshole reporters become a new meme, you’ve also got a shit ton of people bringing up past mistreatment of athletes in the press room. You’re the face of a revolution, Loops.”

“I’ve been the face of too many revolutions for one person,” he groused, not even bothering to duck out of the way when Talker ruffled his hair.

“Well, one more won’t kill you.”

---------------------------------------

Remus’ heart raced as he stepped off the plane. The logical part of him knew that Sirius would be waiting outside the security gate, but everything else screamed to see him now, now, right now so he could be sure he was alright. At least he had sounded healthier on the phone the night before—Remus wasn’t sure what he would do otherwise.

“Deep breaths,” James reminded him as they walked toward the baggage claim. “I’m sure he’s—”

An excited shout broke through the thick crowds. Remus’ heart skipped a beat, and then he was running, racing through the people that parted for him as his vision tunneled. His carry-on hit the ground with a low thud that he hardly heard as Sirius lifted him straight off the ground and held him tight.

“I love you,” Remus said immediately, locking his ankles around Sirius’ lower back and squeezing his eyes shut. “Are you okay?”

In lieu of a response, Sirius pulled back and kissed him, cradling one side of his face in his warm, warm hand. Two weeks may as well have been an eternity. He broke away after a moment, searching his face for any signs of illness or pain. “I’m fine,” Sirius said softly, as if he could read his mind. “I promise. A little tired and sore, but there’s no lasting damage.”

“Don’t do that again,” Remus said into the side of his neck as he hugged him close. He smelled like home. “Not when I have to leave.”

Sirius’ arms were steady around his back. “I won’t.”

“I’m going to grill you on everything as soon as we get home.”

“I know.”

“But right now, I’m just going to hug you because I missed you and I worried myself into a hole, like, every night.”

He could feel Sirius’ smile against his shoulder. “I know.”

[ironasss]

NO WAY HOME SPOILERS

Saw no way home on the 23rd, sent my friend this email:

AHHHHHH OH MY GOD I JUST SAW SPIDER-MAN HOLY MOTHER*language*ING *language* OH MY GOD LIKE I KNEW TOBEY AND ANDREW WERE IN IT BUT OH MY GOD I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE LIKE A CAMEO(which is interesting, because i thought Charlie Cox would have a bigger role) AND I KNEW EITHER AUNT MAY OR HAPPY WOULD DIE BUT WHYYYYYYY????????? LITERALLY AS SOON AS SHE SAID "with great power there must also come a great responsibility" I KNEW IT WAS HER JESUS JAMIE FOXX OH MY GOD HIS HAIR OK BUT VENOM????? See, would this have been explained if I had watched Venom: Let There be Carnage? GET h*ward STARK'S MOTHER*language*ING FACE OF THAT MIT WALL WTF PUT TONY ON THERE NO ONE KILLS ABOUT JOHN SLATTERY Is marvel just like, really reaaaaallllllyyyyyyyyy team cap? because, a) like all of team Iron Man is dead(except Peter, but hey, he doesn't exist!) b) the statue of liberty has a shield. why. GIVE IT A WIDOW BITE OR AN ARC REACTOR Also: DUM-E? I also knew he was in it but GAH IT WAS SO SAD And then at the end, oh my god, at the cemetery, I GUESS SPIDER-MAN ISN'T COMPLETE WITHOUT AT LEAST TWO FUNERALS HUH EXCEPT NOT A FUNERAL, BECAUSE NO ONE KNOWS Happy. Why. LOOK MAN I KNOW YOU WERE FRIENDS WITH TONY STARK. b ut d i d yo u h a ve t o ru b h i s de a th i n m y fa c e l i ke th a t I had a close friend die recently. this feels like that. OR WHATEVER IT IS HE SAID, IDC IT WAS SAD And ok, hold on. You know that set photo, Andrew Garfield said was photoshopped? Ima be honest, I thought it was. I had full confidence he was in it, but liKE I SAID I THOUGHT IT WAS A CAMEO But then, I saw the exact moment that was, and i SWEAR I COULD JUST SEE THE PURPLE SCREEN BEHIND HIM OH MY GOD And the movie theater we went to *language*ing SUCKED like you know how usually they play something related to the movie, cast interviews, moments with the character(s) in past movies if they're a returning character, a comics history if they're new? (like there was comics history when I saw Shang Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings(2021) and Eternals(2021), and a feature thing with Nataliahashalie's past movies before Black Widow(2021), and all of them had cast interviews.) Question: why do people deny Agents of SHIELD being canon, when Maria Hill exists? (like obviously Coulson exists, but people are like: hE's sTIlL dEaD! aGeNTs oF ShiElD iSn'T rEaL!) OK BUT A MILLION YEARS ON INSTAGRAM I SAW THIS POST, AND I DONT REMEMBER IF IT WAS ORIGINALLY INSTAGRAM OR ORIGINALLY TUMBLR OR TWITTER BUT Someone was like, what if when MJ falls, Andrew Garfield Spider-Man catches her? AND THEN HE DID JHEJDGEWUIDG:UDHLKUQ *dies* ANYWAY SINCE IM SEEING IT AGAIN ON THE 28TH AFTER I SEE VENOM AT THE ALAMO ILL GET THE FULL EXPERIENCE!!!!!!!!! Also: i hate my brother hes an idiot and hes arguing marvel with me. HJJHGHJDG DIDNT SEE IT THE FIRST TIME BUT I SAW IT IN LIKE IMAX AT THE THEATER THE DOCTOR STRANGE 2 TRAILER THATS AMERICA CHAVEZ WITH THE STAR JACKET ITS GOTTA BE IDK IF YOU KNOW WHO THAT IS, BUT SHES ONE OF THE YOUNG AVENGERS SHES FRIENDS WITH KATE BISHOP(I ship them actually) AND SHE CAN OPEN LIKE, MULTIVERSAL SPACE PORTALS IN THE SHAPE OF A STAR SHES SO COOL IF SHES MCU, THEN THEY HAVE MOST OF THE YOUNG AVENGERS theres David(prodigy), Billy(Wiccan), Tommy(Speed), Teddy(Hulkling), Kate(Hawkeye), America(Ms America), Patriot(FORGOT HIS NAME HE WAS IN TFATWS), Noh-varr(Marvel-boy) and SOMETIMES Nate(Iron lad, but if the MCU was gonna do it they would probably make it Harley Keener) and..... I feel like im missing one? lemme think, i got wiccan and speed and their bfs, hawkeye and her bf, america and patriot... OH YEAH LOKI!!!!!!! o h m y g o d WHAT IF THEY DO KID LOKI Anyway. all the mcu is really missing is David and Teddy now, SO (guess theres the dillema of Billy and Tommy not existing....) OH MY GOD IM SO EXCITED FOR JARED LETO AND JARED HARRIS

[barbatos-devotee]

I Like You, Idiot!

Genshin x Oblivious!Reader

Character: Xiao

Gender: Female

A/N: Ok but imagine,,,, Tsundere Xiao,,,,,, and that is basically the summary of this one. Kind of. You’re a part of the Traveler’s Party in this one! Imagine you have whatever Vision you wanna have, and whatever weapon!

You sat on a stool in Liyue Harbor, happily taking a sip of your tea. Xiao sat next to you, the two of you waiting for Traveller to return from doing their commission. They were currently running around the city, doing whatever non-fighting commissions they had to take care of while the party was here. They also took QiQi with them, because the little zombie child clung to the Traveller like an older sibling. So that just left you and Xiao. You took another sip of your tea and sighed, before placing the cup down on the table in front of you.

“This is nice. So, Xiao, what do you think we’ll get to do next? I mean, after that whole fight with Osial (The big water snake thing in Act 3, I looked up the name guys don’t worry I gotchu) and Zhongli.. I’m sort of curious as to what crazy adventures they have next for us!” You giggled, twirling a strand of hair around your finger. (I want you guys to pretend you have long hair; at least in terms of side bangs at least. If you want your hair to be shorter or longer in the back, that’s fine, but in the front you have two long strands of hair, any texture you please) Xiao turned to stare at you, the usual uncaring expression on his face.

“I’m just hoping it’s not as dangerous as this one. I can hold myself in a battle pretty well, but the Traveller is still just getting a hang of their powers, and one slip-up could easily be their downfall. And you... you need to be more careful, if you were to get hurt that would be a liability to the team.” The adeptus snapped out, and you laughed to yourself, completely missing his underlying point. It sounded like a straightforward message to you, and you smiled at Xiao.

“Yeah yeah, I understand. Don’t worry! I’ll try my best not to get in you guys’ way, I may not be the best with my (weapon) and (element) Vision, but I was good enough to get on the team, yeah?” Xiao huffed, before turning back around and crossing his arms. He knew that you had missed his point entirely, and he grumbled about it to himself. Now he was going to have to try a different tactic.

The trip to Guili Plains from Liyue took about half a week, since it was a very long way. Traveller helped halve the trip to the time it was by taking the party through various shortcuts they knew of. During the trip, Traveller talked with Xiao a lot, and the adeptus responded in his own usual way. Somehow, you took this as them flirting, and your eyes would sparkle with excitement at the prospect. You decided that you would do your best to support them however you could, completely unaware of their true plans. On the trip, Traveller and Xiao had actually been discussing how best to help him confess to you, because Traveller had figured it out a while ago. How they did that, Xiao didn’t know, but he wouldn’t pass up on an opportunity to get you to notice. Unfortunately, they did not know that this was having an opposite effect on you.

After a harrowing fight with a ruin guard, one that Xiao managed to almost kill immediately, he rushed over to you, who had just barely escaped getting clipped by an aimed rocket. Traveller brought QiQi over, who immediately began her healing process for you. Xiao, however, was upset. And that visibly showed, but as anger.

“You idiot! You need to be more careful, why did you think it was a good idea to use (elemental skill)?! You know that one takes too long to charge, and the guard was already aiming for you!” You looked down, a frown on your face.

“I’m sorry! I thought I could-”

“You thought you could, but you didn’t! What if it hit closer to you?! You could have died-!” Everyone went silent at Xiao’s outburst, all shocked at the way his voice cracked. You looked up to him, eyes wide, but he turned around before you could see his face, and he huffed, disappearing into green Anemo particles. (Yknow, like Venti did at the beginning of the game! I have no idea if he can actually do this but it’d be cool if he could) The rest of you looked at each other, before Traveller stood.

“I’ll go check on him, QiQi, you stay here and make sure she’s healed.” They stated, before taking off in the direction that Xiao disappeared in. Now it was just you and the little zombie girl. The both of you were silent, until the child spoke up.

“You’re all healed now... please be more careful next time... Xiao would hate to see you hurt like this again...” You frowned, crossing your arms and looking away from QiQi.

“Why would he even care? He likes the traveller, not me.” QiQi stared at you, silent. After a couple of moments, she slowly shook her head. You blinked, before tilting your head in confusion.

“He.. doesn’t like the Traveller?” Another head shake, “no”. Your eyes widened, and you put a hand to your chin. Then you reached over and hugged the zombie child.

“I have to think about this one, thanks QiQi. For the healing too.”

With the traveller, they’d found Xiao, about a mile away from where they fought the Ruin Guard, sitting on top of a broken pillar.

“Xiao...”

“She doesn’t understand.., why doesn’t she understand? You’re at least as strong as me, so you won’t get hurt as easily, QiQi is a zombie so she can’t die a second time... why can’t she understand that she’s just a mortal? Why... why won’t she understand that I can’t lose her?!” The adeptus exclaimed, slamming his fist into the pillar he sat upon. It cracked slightly, and small pieces of debris fell from it. The traveller moved closer, worry in their eyes.

“I’m sure she knows this as well as we do Xiao. But she’s trying her best, so she can be as good as us. I’m sure she must feel inferior...”

“But she shouldn’t-!”

“But what if she does?!” Traveller interrupted Xiao’s shout with one of their own. The two now locked eyes, burning emotions visible in both of their orbs. Traveller continued to speak.

“You said it yourself, she’s not as strong as we are. But I’m sure she wants to be. She wants to keep up with us or she’ll feel left behind.” The blonde smiled sadly, seeming to remember something.

“I know how that feels, my sibling was always the better one of us. I always felt as though I wouldn’t be as good as them, even if we were practically equal in power. And I’m always worried for them. If I lost my power when I first came here, did they? Are they in danger? Are they dead? I don’t know, and I intend to find out, whatever it takes. But I do know how she feels, Xiao. So.. go talk to her.” Xiao blinked, and moved a hand up to his face, to scrub away the redness and tears from earlier.

“Thanks..” He muttered, before vanishing again. Traveller sighed, their mood immediately shifting from one of sadness to one of annoyance. They wished that they could teleport as easily as this adeptus bastard, now they had to walk-

~~~~~

Back with QiQi, you sat in the grass, picking flowers with her as you waited for Xiao and the traveller to return. It had been a while, and you hoped that they were both okay. You got your answer when Xiao materialised in front of you, startling you and causing you to drop the flowers you’d been collecting.

“Woah! Where’d you-?”

“QiQi, can you go meet traveller? They’re about a mile that way.” The little zombie child nodded, before taking off towards the direction of her sibling-figure. Now that left just you and Xiao, and the two of you sat in silence for a couple moments. Then, the adeptus spoke up.

“I am....sorry for yelling at you like that. You got hurt because I couldn’t protect you, and that upset me, and I... I lost my temper. So... I apologise.” Xiao didn’t meet your eyes as he said this, instead pointedly looking at the ground near your leg, since you still sat in the grass. You looked up at him, searching his face for... you didn’t know what you were looking for.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry too, I should’ve been more careful. I know I’m not as strong as you, or the traveller. I got ahead of myself..” Xiao shook his head, going over to you and kneeling down. His hands grasped yours, holding them close to him. He held you tightly, afraid to let go, like he would lose you if he let go.

“No, no.. it’s.. you may not be as strong as us, but you’re strong enough! And you can get even stronger! You’ve.... you’re strong enough already to be on this adventure with us, and I.. I’m glad you are. I wouldn’t know what to do without you here. I just.... ugh, this is so dumb..” Xiao cursed under his breath, looking away before looking you dead in your eyes.

“I really like you, you idiot. So, please, stop being such a dummy and go out with me? I swear I’ll protect you even better this time.” Your eyes widened, and your mouth stood agape. What? Xiao liked... you??? Not Traveller? I mean, QiQi had hinted towards as much, but you didn’t actually think.... You could feel your face heating up as you blushed, and the only sounds that came from your mouth were stutters. Xiao shook his head, chuckling to himself.

“You don’t have to answer right now. I just.. I needed to tell you.” He the stood up, pulling you with him. By then, QiQi and Traveller had returned, and you were still at a loss for words.

“Okay guys! Let’s keep going! I know a Fatui skirmisher that needs to be beaten into a pulp!” Traveller exclaimed, and then the four of you were off. You were left to think about Xiao’s words, your face flushing every time you did. You were still in shock that the adeptus liked you, of all people. How do you process this?

How would you respond?

A/N: Omg this one was unnecessarily hard to write, and I got caught up in holiday stuff... anyways, happy 2021 everybody!

[gncrevan]

alright, i'm bringing back my "nor says some shit about every ESC entry" tradition, sorry or you're welcome, whichever you prefer.

ukraine: i wanna bring goodwill here but the rap is very bad and using black people as set dressing is arguably worse. i like the singing tho

austria: choice quote from this literal girlboss anthem — "we can be CEO / yeah you already know / we can be the boss / fly higher than the gods" cringe

netherlands: boring as usual but it's nice they're singing in dutch for a change

albania: potential to be really funny, the song sucks ass but the music video is game of thrones meets stolen visuals from, like, florence and the machine's king mv and kiki rockwell's same old energy mv it's hilarious

uk: oh my god it's white jesus! he's here! honestly it's not horrible so germany has good chances of being in last place again and that's a reason to celebrate in and of itself, thank you white jesus

sweden: this song has such a weird fucking structure, first it just starts without any real intro which is uncommon for a ballad, then it suddenly drops a synth bass in the second verse, i have no idea what's going on? like i don't hate it but what

france: finally, some good fucking trash! and from france no less, that's so unexpected

serbia: i wish it was a little more unhinged but this is genuinely a good song i would listen to in my free time. i hope she washes her hands on stage.

armenia: walmart mumford & sons

spain: sounds like something they would play in 365 days. also extreme y2k vibes in the video for some reason?

romania: the juxtaposition of a dance beat, really involved choreography, and a singer who just has no energy is honestly. it's a lot. i kinda love it. i love this weird twink

italy: ok so i really like mahmood and i have massive respect for him for showing himself in tender embrace with a man in this video, but the song is kinda. meh. that's sad

cyprus: what's with all the history-themed videos this year? lol anyway this sucks toes

greece: props for singing acapella with only some vocoder backing on this for over a minute. i mean it's still bad but that's kinda impressive

belgium: this one's probably gonna be made or broken by the choreography cause what little they showed of that in the vid was really good and really improved the song

azerbaijan: there was the chance for this to be a really melodramatic power ballad and they didn't take it. the video was a little bit hilarious tho, the rain effects killed me

lithuania: very, uh. lynchian idk

portugal: tfw your back-up singers all have better technique than you

israel: what in the rupaul's drag race contestant's original song

australia: terrible lyrics aside this could have been so fucking operatic and y'all just didn't do it? you just didn't? why???

montenegro: "the air is what they need / the air is what they breathe / they'll die without it / it's unforgivable" so true bestie

san marino: jared leto joker

bulgaria: y'all ever heard wolfgang petry make "rock" cause that's kinda this hook

poland: if more of it was like the bridge it would be pretty great, hoping for good staging

moldova: polka!!!!! fuck yeah polka!!!

norway: it's so fucking stupid i love it

north macedonia: ........ i like the rings in her hair. song's boring.

switzerland: yeah unsurprisingly this is absolutely terrible

malta: what is with these gay/trans pandering songs, why are there so many of them, why are they all so disingenuous and why do they all sound like shit

ireland: this sounds like every other song and also not like a song at all

finland: ok listen. i was a the rasmus stan in my early teens, and i stopped listening cause they got worse. in the shadows was their prime. whatever this is is embarrassing and kinda gross. please hike up your pants, lauri, and don't act weird with your new female band member, and don't write fetishistic shit like "a girl who looks like she's a boy". please stop. you're in your 40s and this is sad.

czech republic: i will probably forget this song in 5 minutes

iceland: country abba. abba but country.

estonia: the only good part was the western horse gallop beat

germany: they really couldn't do a second take on that third line, huh? anyway, germany zero points <3

denmark: i think it's so funny when obvious pop artists act like they're playing hard rock or punk or riot grrl or some shit

latvia: LET! THEM! SAY! FUCK! AND! PUSSY!!!!!

georgia: somehow three songs in one and all of them feel like overly long interludes, idk what's going on

slovenia: anime opening sang by a decently ok guy at karaoke. also the video is just a slide show of the storyboard which is funny

croatia: how many times do we have to teach you this lesson, old man? nobody likes acoustic singer/songwriter bullshit at eurovision

[generallynerdy]

Uncalled they come to me, and told, they still won’t leave me (Din Djarin/Soulmate!Reader)

Spoilers for Chapter 9 (S2E1) of the Mandalorian

Summary: After the ambitious Toro Calican turns on you, his hired mechanic, in hopes of winning favour with the Guild, the mysterious Mandalorian saves your life. Now that you owe him a life debt, he’s stuck with you until you can save him back. It’s not so bad, having a free mechanic and babysitter for the kid, but things take a turn for the worse when both of you realise you might be catching feelings. For someone that might not even be your Soulmate.

Requested by Anon: Hello! How’re you doing? May I please request a Din x reader soulmate au? The one where you don’t see color until you touch your soulmate? It would be very difficult for Din to find his soulmate and I’ve always wanted to see how it played out. If not that’s ok! Thank you and have a wonderful day ❤️

Key: (Y/N) - your name, (h/c) - hair colour, (e/c) - eye colour Translations: vode - siblings, Ret’urcye mhi - goodbye (literally: may we meet again), mirshmure’cya - brain-kiss (Basic term, is Keldabe kiss. This is the soft one as opposed to the literal headbutt term) Asked to be tagged in this disaster: @pearlll09 Word Count: remember when i said this would be 4k? Yeah. It’s 6,478 words. What. The. Fuck.

Author’s Note: this is way longer than I intended it to be but I think u deserve it since u were the only one who saw my post begging for mando requests and actually sent one hksjlfdkj tysm!! I’m so happy I got to write a Soulmate AU for him tbh. Btw, I have it in my head that Yodito would’ve given him the ability to see green, as a familial Soulmate bond, but it wouldn’t work for this if your eyes are green so I just left it out. (Also wtf is up with the Cobb/Din shit, Cobb is clearly in a dedicated relationship with the bartender Weequay. I named them Sala :D) The title is from The Teller of Tales by Gabriela Mistral.

Read On AO3

*

“Do you wear those gloves all the time?”

The Mando gives you a look—one that you can’t read, obviously, but you get the idea that it’s drier than the desert you’re in.

Calican snorts, but you shoot him a glare and he shuts up. You’re only here because he’s paying well for your mechanical skills, enough that his request of an extra hand on his first bounty seemed reasonable. Finding out that he’s hunting Fennec Shand was...less than pleasing, but now that the Mando is onboard, you’re not quite so worried about the outcome. They’re supposed to be fearsome warriors, after all. And he was smart enough to figure out how to wait out Shand, which is what the three of you have been doing for hours.

“I’m just saying,” you continue, “between the armour and the gloves, it must be damn near impossible to find your Soulmate.”

He shrugs. Sort of. It’s kind of hard to tell, to be honest.

“Haven’t you heard the stories?” Calican asks, flopping back onto the sand. “Mandalorians don’t have Soulmates. They start seeing colour after their first battle; war is their only destiny.”

You roll your eyes. They’re folk tales, really, and ridiculous ones at that. Every sentient has at least one Soulmate, romantic, platonic, familial, or otherwise, and there’s no reason for Mandalorians to be any different. Still, the stories make their rounds. There are specific ones, too, like the one about the Mandalorian Jedi who made the Darksaber; he was said to see colour when he lit his weapon for the first time. Fett, too, was said to have seen a new colour with every clone that was decanted—which is mildly ridiculous.

“Maybe the Mandalorians of old,” Mando comments with a scoff. “Not many of us see battle these days.”

“Well, if you’re looking for it, I know a krayt dragon a few hundred klicks away,” you suggest lightly.

He snorts. “No thanks. I’ll take the assassin.”

“Speaking of,” you said, “you guys know I’m just a mechanic, right?”

There’s a pause. Calican nods, but the Mando is still.

“What?” he asks, displeasure in his voice.

“I mean, I’m pretty good with a blaster, but I’m gonna be useless against Fennec Shand.”

Mando whirls on Calican. “You paid a mechanic to be your back-up? Are you insane?”

He shrugs. “(Y/N) has a mean right hook.”

“That’s not reassuring,” Mando huffs. He looks over at you and you can almost feel him glaring through the visor. “Are you crazy?”

“I’m broke,” you scoff. “Same thing. Oh, hey, do you need repairs on that hunk of junk you pilot? I’ll be more thorough than that lady at the hangar.”

He hesitates. “We’ll see.”

You grin. That’s not a no.

*

“You’re a prick, did I mention that?” you hiss over your shoulder.

Calican shoves the blaster into your side. “Shut up and keep walking.”

The Mandalorian stands on the other side of the hangar, waiting for Calican to make his move. Seriously, this day could not be going any worse. After killing Shand, Toro Calican, certified dumbass, decided that kidnapping you and the Mandalorian’s—pet? Child?—passenger was the best way to go. Whatever the little weird thing that’s in your arms is, it’s pretty cute, and you’d rather he shoot you than the baby holding tightly onto your shirt. In fact, he probably will, because the kid is his ticket into the Guild—you’re just dead weight.

“Looks like I’m calling the shots now. Huh, partner?” Calican asks the Mando. “Drop your blaster and raise ‘em.”

The Mandalorian puts his hands behind his head. Next to you, Calican pushes Peli forward and instructs her to cuff him. With a huff, she moves behind the Mandalorian with the intent to follow orders.

“You’re a Guild traitor, Mando,” Calican begins. You consider sighing. This sounds like the start of a villain monologue. “And I’m willing to bet that this here is the target you helped escape. Fennec was right. Bringing you in won’t just make me a member of the Guild, it’ll make me legendary.”

In a burst of light, the Mandalorian sets off a flash grenade.

You yelp and tuck the little thing into your arms before tucking yourself over into a roll down the ramp of the ship. You fall into the sand just in front of the Mandalorian, who’s moved to fire a shot at Calican, sending him flying off the other side, smouldering.

Breathing heavily, you sit up, the child still in your arms.

“Are you okay? Is the child?”

You look up. The Mandalorian has his gloved hand held out, offering to help you up. Hesitantly, you take it and pull yourself off the ground.

“We’re both okay—I think,” you say hesitantly, holding the baby out to him. “Is he—?”

“Dead,” the Mando confirms, taking the child from you.

You frown. “Good riddance. Thank you,” you tell him hesitantly, though your tone is genuine.

“It’s nothing,” he murmurs.

He distracts himself by checking on the child, who coos up at him contentedly. You smile a little at the interaction, but put yourself back into focus.

“It’s not nothing,” you say firmly. “I owe you a life debt.”

He freezes. “What?”

“Where I come from, if someone saves your life, you owe it to them. Until I can save your life, I owe you,” you explain.

“That’s—you don’t need to do that,” he says quickly.

You cross your arms. “It’s like your Way. It’s my culture, my honour on the line. You’re stuck with me, Mando.”

“What? No. Can’t you...pay me, or something?”

“I’m broke, remember?”

“You saved the child’s life, doesn’t that count?”

Your eyebrows shoot up. “I rolled with him. You did the work, so, no, it doesn’t count, even though he’s your…” You hesitate, remembering the word. “...foundling.”

“You know, you’re kind of getting the better end of the deal here,” Peli pipes up, directing the thought at the Mandalorian. “A free mechanic, babysitter, and an extra blaster? That’s a bargain.”

“Uh...pre-warning, I don’t know much about child care,” you warn immediately.

He snorts. “Neither do I.” After a moment, he sighs deeply. “Fine. But we’re going to work on those blaster skills before you become a liability.”

“Fair enough.”

*

Sticking with the Mandalorian is probably the worst decision of your life.

Almost immediately after Tatooine, in need of more funds, he drags you into trouble with another group of bounty hunters and the New Republic, of all groups.

“Who is this?” someone asks, her voice sing-song as she enters the Mandalorian’s ship.

You don’t bother turning around, continuing your repairs on a hull panel. “The mechanic. Don’t touch anything.”

“You have a personal mechanic?”

A few people enter the ship, making you finally turn around. The first speaker is a Twi’lek woman and the second a Human, who squints disdainfully. From behind him, Mando pushes past their little crew—including a protocol droid and a massive Devaronian—to approach you, deciding to stand next to you rather than them, which brings you immense pleasure for some reason.

“No. (Y/N) owes me a life debt and, apparently, credits don’t cut it,” he explains shortly, sounding frustrated and exhausted.

You nudge him companionably—it’s an argument you’ve had a few times, the paying of your debt. He doesn’t want to be free of you, per se, but he doesn’t want you to be in his debt. Having that kind of power or hold over you makes him uncomfortable, you can tell, as every time it comes up he gets twitchy.

“Kinky,” the Twi’lek snickers.

You grimace. That would explain why Mando sounds like he wants to die. “Fun group. What’s the job?”

“One of theirs got caught. We’re getting him out,” he says. “And we’re using our ship.”

Our ship. Maybe it’s a slip of the tongue or maybe he’s making it clear that you’re with him, but either way, it brings a smirk to your face. The Twi’lek looks disgusted.

“Well, at least my hard work won’t be going to waste,” you huff.

“Mando,” the Twi’lek interrupts, “you haven’t introduced us.”

You can feel him rolling his eyes. “(Y/N), meet Mayfeld, Burg, Xi’an. Mayfeld is running point, the droid is flying, and the target is a New Republic transport ship.”

“Ugh. You guys better be good; I’m not getting arrested.”

“Mayfeld’s former Imperial,” Mando says before any of them can answer.

You scoff. “A stormtrooper? My shitty blaster skills would be better than his.”

“I wasn’t a stormtrooper,” Mayfeld spits, annoyed enough that he must’ve said it once already. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

All but the droid stay, scattered around the hull. Mando follows soon after the jump to hyperspace, having hovered over the droid while it set their course. He stops Burg from getting into the weapons cache right after he hops down the ladder and the two look like they want to kill each other.

“Someone tell me why we even need a Mandalorian,” the Devaronian grunts.

Mayfeld huffs. “Well, apparently, they’re the greatest warriors in the galaxy. So they say.”

“Then why are they all dead?”

They all laugh at that—Xi’an with a particularly nasal one, which is irritating beyond belief. You frown deeply, but try not to show how pissed their laughter makes you. That sort of shit isn’t to be made fun of; a dying race. It’s all too familiar these days, what with the death of Alderaan and the crater on Scarif.

When you come back into focus, Xi’an is talking in low tones.

“See, I know who you really are,” she says to the Mando.

You roll your eyes. Unlikely.

(Something in your brain goes: I do, which is stupid. You don’t know who he is, under that helmet, sure, but you’ve seen a lot of him through his actions. He’s reckless, terrifying, and a badass, but he’s also patient and...kind, in his own way. The way he treats the child is like nothing you’ve seen in another bounty hunter. It’s gentle, caring. The kid has really grown on him, you think. And the way he treats you is just straight up polite, even though you’re practically his servant in terms of a life debt. Still, he treats you like a person and doesn’t ask you to do unreasonable favours just because he saved your life. He doesn’t hold it over your head.)

And then they start goading him about the helmet.

Burg actually goes for it, which Mando beats him back for. You jump forward, but just as you do, the door to the sleeping cot flies open, revealing the child.

Instead, you rush to the child, pulling him into your arms.

“What is that?” Mayfeld asks, approaching.

“Back off,” you hiss.

He looks between you and Mando. “Wait, did you two make that?” When you scoff, he frowns. “What is it, like a pet or somethin’?”

“Yeah. Something like that,” Mando says quickly.

Xi’an frowns. “Didn’t take you for the type. Maybe that code of yours has made you soft.”

You snort. Soft. That isn’t a word you’d use to describe him, ever. You haven’t seen very much action since Tatooine, but you saw enough there.

Mayfeld reaches for the child and, without hesitation, you lift your blaster. The way he’s looking at the little guy makes you uneasy.

“Fuck off,” you warn instantly.

“Aw, c’mon, I just wanna hold him,” he teases.

Over the comms, the droid’s voice echoes. “Dropping out of hyperspace. Now.”

The entire ship shudders and shakes, sending everyone flying off their feet. You happen to ram into beskar, your face slamming into the metal, which makes you yelp. The baby wails in your arms as gravity makes to tug you away again. Before it can, Mando grabs your arms and holds you in place against him until the ship is steady once more.

“You okay?” he asks, helping you to your feet—again, you think miserably.

“Ugh, no,” you groan, putting a hand on the left side of your face. “That’s gonna bruise.”

Mando takes the child from you. “Sorry. We’ll deal with it after.”

You wave him off. “I’ve had worse. You worry about the job, I’ll watch the kid,” you say, taking the child back. You can’t help but smile when he coos happily.

“Right,” Mando mutters. For a moment, he watches you both, considering.

“Mando!” calls Mayfeld. “Let’s go!”

Before he goes, he puts a hand on your shoulder. “Be careful. I have a bad feeling about this.” You nod, which seems to appease him, and watch him leave.

Petting the child’s floppy ears, you wonder if he meant that to be as comforting as it was.

*

I should’ve known, Din thinks when Qin walks out of that cell.

I definitely should’ve known, he decides, returning to the Razor Crest to find a sparking droid corpse and a shaking child in your arms.

He tosses the cuffed Twi’lek to the side and rushes to yours, stepping over Zero’s limp form. You look relatively unfazed, for someone who’s just ripped a droid’s head off with their bare hands, but the child is rather distressed. The kid squeaks at the sight of Din and, much to his surprise, lifts your hand to show him.

It’s bleeding.

“What did you do?” Din questions, crossing the hull for his medical kit.

“I...may have tried to punch the droid,” you admit hesitantly. “It didn’t work.”

He scoffs, returning to kneel in front of you with bacta patches in his hands. “No karking shit.”

Your face falls as he reaches for your hand, pulling it toward him so he can patch it up. “It was gonna hurt the kid.”

“You did good,” he murmurs. “Stupid, but good.”

It never occurred to him that you might save the child again. You’re here out of necessity, after all, because you owe him, because your honour depends on paying that debt. The child is just another being in the vicinity, but you still saved him. Again. You’re either very stupid or very kind and he can’t decide which one is more concerning.

“Maybe you should teach me a bit of hand to hand, too,” you suggest warmly, wincing at the bacta’s sting.

Din makes a noise that’s sort of a laugh. “I’ll add it to the list.”

He moves to put bacta on the bruise his beskar gave you—He feels ridiculously guilty for that; here you are, paying off a life debt to him, and he still manages to hurt you—but with a hand, you stop him.

“Don’t waste it,” you say immediately. “I’ve had worse bruises, seriously.”

He frowns. “It’s not a waste.” Before you can protest, he puts the patch on top of the bruise.

You huff. “You’re a worrier, aren’t you, Mando?”

“Apparently,” he replies dryly. He hadn’t realised it, either.

“Will you stop flirting and get us out of here!?” Qin shouts from the other side of the hull. “The New Republic will be on our asses!”

You roll your eyes. “I hate to say it, but he has a point. Where are the others?”

“Dealt with,” he says simply. “It was a double-cross.”

“Well, I figured,” you shoot back with a knowing look. “Let’s get the hell out of here.”

The drop is easy enough, especially since Din knows that New Republic signal is beeping steadily from Qin’s pocket. He escapes quickly, dipping back into the Razor Crest, where you wait at the top of the ramp, the child hanging onto your boot.

“Let’s go,” he declares, the ramp shutting behind him as he enters.

“Already?” you question with a raised eyebrow. “There are a few repairs I could make out of hyperspace that might be useful.”

He waves you toward the cockpit. “Later. We need to leave.”

“Oookay.” You frown but do as he says, plucking the child from off your foot. “C’mon, little guy,” you mutter to him.

Din waves away all your questions as he starts the take-off. Finally, when the Razor Crest is a safe distance away from the space station and X-Wings appear out of hyperspace, he glances back at you.

“Holy shit!” you cry as they open fire. You look back at him with a slack jaw, which makes him smile underneath the helmet. “That was you, wasn’t it?”

He shrugs half-heartedly, but it’s enough of an answer.

“You’re a maniac, Mando,” you laugh, watching the scene through the transparisteel.

Din thinks over it, staring at you for a long moment. There’s light in your eyes—maybe it’s the reflection of the explosion, but it’s captivating.

“Din,” he says.

You look over. “Hm?���

He clears his throat, trying to shove aside nerves. “My name. It’s Din.”

“Oh. Oh,” you repeat, eyes wide. Then, you smile, more genuine than he’s ever seen from you, he thinks. “You’re crazy, Din. You know that, right?”

He laughs—and that’s the first time you’ve heard a proper one from him. “Yeah. Yeah, I know.”

*

When Din drops a pair of gloves in front of you, you laugh.

“You’re telling me the gloves are out of convenience?” you ask him disbelievingly.

“The more skin you cover, the less likely you are to get cut up by a vibroblade,” he replies dryly. “Put them on.”

You raise your hands in surrender and take them, slipping them over your fingers. “Surprisingly comfy.”

It occurs to you that this is...sort of a big deal. You’ve kept your hands bare for as long as you can remember, mostly because you’re a romantic and finding your Soulmate has been at the forefront of your mind for a long time. But now, you think, it’s not such a big deal. You have a debt to pay and, besides that, you’re pretty happy with how things are now.

Life isn’t exactly nice with Din and the kid, so to say, but you’re content. You love the child and he adores you. The Razor Crest feels more like home than any planet ever has. And Din is...well, he’s something. Being around him is mildly addicting and whenever he’s gone, something feels incomplete.

“Better?” you ask, lifting your gloved hands.

“Much,” he says. Then, he holds out his own hand. “C’mon, up.”

You take the hand without thought, but before you know it, he’s swinging you around and shoving you to the ground.

“Ow!” you cry. “What the hell, Din?”

He huffs. “Lesson 1: Never take anything for granted.”

“Rude.” You hit his arm meaningfully, but he just rolls his eyes; just because you can’t see it doesn’t mean you can’t tell it’s happening.

“You’ll thank me someday.”

“But not today.”

“Nope. Today, you’re gonna hate my guts.”

*

He’s dying.

It feels unreal, what with everything you’ve watched him survive so far. A newbie bounty hunter, a group of pissed off bounty hunters, lots of bounty hunters, and the New Republic but a group of stormtroopers is what gets him?

Moff Gideon is what really gets him, though. The bastard that helped destroy his people is going to destroy Din Djarin. Hearing him speak Din’s name makes you nauseous, furious, even. He gave you that name in confidence, trusted it to you, the only one of his handful of friends to even use it, and Gideon decides to declare it to Nevaroo in its entirety. It makes your blood boil, enough that you get out of the initial firefight mostly unscathed.

But Din doesn’t. And now he’s dying in your arms and you feel like you failed.

“Go with them,” he tells you, all croaky and half-assed.

“No. No, I’m not leaving you here,” you declare, carefully leaning him against the rubble.

Flames flicker all around the room and the child is crying. It’s not loud or consistent, but it’s enough to break your heart.

“You have to go,” Din says again. “You’ll die.”

You laugh ruefully. “That’s kind of the point. A life debt means I save your life or I die trying.”

A pause.

“You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he hisses through the pain.

“Afraid not, dumbass. You’re stuck with me, remember?”

He grasps your arm, his hands still gloved. If you’re going to die here, maybe you should ask him to take off the gloves. A part of you has wondered…

“C’mon, tell me it’s transferable—some ‘dying wish’ shit like that.”

You nod, though the action sinks uncomfortably into your chest. Leaving him here...that doesn’t sit well with you. But if he asks, then you’ll do it. “Yeah, you name it, but it’d better be a big one, something equivalent.”

The breath he lets out is one of relief. “Take care of the kid. Go find his people and return him to them. Protect him.”

“With my dying breath,” you swear, the words holding an air of ceremony.

Din grasps your arm tighter and pulls you down, your forehead meeting his helmet. You’re not sure what it means, but it must mean something because he mutters words in his own language, which you’ve never heard him do before.

“Ret’urcye mhi.”

May we meet again.

Din does what little he can in saying goodbye to you, as deeply as that cuts. You’ve grown on him, a little too much maybe, and it kills him to think that you’ll be without him now. You still can’t hit a headshot, he realises, suddenly worried for how you’ll fare.

And so he gives you what he can: a Keldabe kiss and a goodbye, instead of the action he wants to take. He wants to take off his gloves and see if he can figure out the colour of your eyes. On the other hand, though, he doesn’t want to leave you with that, of all things, to leave you seeing the red of his blood and the blue-tinged orange of the flames before any other colours.

You take the child in your arms and, with one last glance at Din, leave the room for the covert’s tunnels underground.

The child whimpers up at you.

You look down, sniffling, and pet his ears gently. “I know, little one. I’m so sorry.” You place a gentle kiss to his forehead.

Cara appears, tugging on your wrist. “C’mon,” she says gently. “We need to get out of here.”

It occurs to you, as the three of you and Greef move on, that Cara might help you with the child. For Din, obviously. She’s a good person and, frankly, she and Din seem pretty friendly. The second she saw you, she’d offered her bare hand and bemoaned the fact that her vision was still black and white, much to your amusement. It was all in good fun, but Din had looked a little uncomfortable, for reasons you didn’t know.

“(Y/N),” Cara says quietly, calling your attention back.

You shake yourself from your thoughts. “Sorry.”

She smiles sadly. “It’s okay. Just keep up.”

The small group turns a few corners before footsteps sound from behind. You immediately place the child in the bag hanging from Cara’s shoulder and draw your blaster, watching her and Greef do the same.

From the distant hall, two figures approach: IG-11 and—

“Din!” you half-cry, half-breathe out. Holstering your blaster, you meet them halfway to take more of Din’s weight from IG. “How—?”

“No living thing can see me without my helmet. IG isn’t alive,” Din says dryly.

You laugh, a partly manic sound. “Thank kark. You’re not getting out of this that easy.”

The noise he makes is both amused and resigned. “Wouldn’t dream of it. Where’s the—?”

“He’s with Cara,” you say, finishing the thought before even he can, in his groggy state.

It’s safe to say that when the Armourer gives him his sigil, Din almost considers correcting the Clan of two to a Clan of three. He doesn’t, reminding himself that you’re here because of a debt and nothing else, but the thought is there.

*

The months after Nevarro are more peaceful than the first week of your time with Din. 

You finally get to pull a proper sleeping space together for yourself. Well, it’s a hammock in the hull, but it’s better than the seats in the cockpit. The child gets his own hammock, too, though it’s in the cot space with Din. He loves it, so much so that he squeals when he sees it. That’s your proudest moment, for sure.

Most days, you tend to forget that you still owe a life debt. To be honest, it just feels like the three of you are normal. Din takes bounties, you take short mechanic jobs on different planets, and the two of you trade off on child-duty. It’s pretty regular, more than what your life used to be, anyway.

Din is still training you in hand-to-hand and blasters, of course. You’re getting better with the latter, but the first is difficult. On the way to Tatooine, where there’s supposedly another Mandalorian, he decides to have another training session.

“Fists higher, do it again.”

Huffing, you wipe your wrist across your sweaty forehead. It’s easy enough to obey the order—the first part, anyway. Getting into his guard is difficult, though.

One hit, two blocks—there. You slip under his guard and make an abrupt drop to the ground, sweeping his legs out under him with a fierce movement. He goes down in a tumble of beskar, joining you on the floor. As soon as he’s down, you flip over and straddle his hips, an arm over his neck in false threat.

He barks out a laugh. “Much better.”

“I’m not entirely hopeless!” you declare joyfully before bursting into snickers.

Leaning down, you thunk your forehead against his helmet. The gesture is fond, you’ve learned, something shared between close companions—or at least you think. Din told you that it’s called a mirshmure’cya in Mando’a, that it doesn’t have an equivalent word in Basic.

(Which is technically true. Literally, it means brain-kiss, but the outsider term for it is Keldabe kiss. It can be used for close companions—vode in arms, family—but it’s also used for romantic partners, so he’s mildly horrified at the idea of explaining its cultural significance to you and having to face his feelings for someone that may or may not be his Soulmate. He hasn’t gotten up the courage to ask if he can check. Or try to do it discreetly.)

A distant beeping starts up, coming from the cockpit. It’s the approach warning, which means the training session is over.

“I’ll get the kid,” you say, climbing off Din and offering a hand.

He takes it without hesitation, dragging himself up and making a beeline for the cockpit.

Tatooine is about what you remember. That is, it’s dry, sandy, and the worst planet you’ve ever been on. Stepping out of the ship and into the hangar makes you smile, though, at the not-so-distant memory of Din saving your life. It hasn’t been that long, but it feels like it’s been years.

“Oh, hey!” says Peli, after greeting the child—which is fair, he’s adorable. “You’re still with him! Haven’t repaid that debt yet, huh?”

Your face falls. “Uh, no, not really.”

On the way to Mos Pelgo, your thoughts linger on the life debt. One of these days, you’re going to save Din’s life—then where will you be? Will he want you to leave? What will you do if you have to leave? Your old life was nowhere near as interesting as this, nor did you have anyone close to what Din and the child are to you.

The dreary grey slopes of sand only make it easier to think of the worst possible outcomes. Now you remember why you hated Tatooine so much.

You don’t even realise the speeder is approaching the small town until Din taps your arm, which is wrapped around his waist. Jumping at the touch, you loosen your grip sheepishly and glance at the child, who looks like he’s enjoying himself immensely.

After the speeder comes to a stop, you take the kid while Din enters the cantina.

When you enter yourself, you find that he’s about to shoot someone, while the Weequay behind the bar looks rather distressed.

“Perfect timing, as always,” Din remarks without a glance.

You raise your free hand. “You’re the bad luck charm, I’m just here for the ride,” you retort teasingly.

“You brought a kid to a gunfight?” his opponent asks, raising an eyebrow.

Finally, you glance over at him and see why Din looks ready to kill him. He’s in Mandalorian armour but his helmet is off—clearly, he’s not Mandalorian. “You’re wearing beskar and you’re not a Mandalorian, buddy. I think you’re in more trouble than the kid is.”

“He is,” Din gets out, a twinge of viciousness in his voice.

Before they can even reach for their blasters, though, the ground starts to shake.

You grab onto the doorway for support, eyes wide as you grip the child. Din and the Mandalorian poser move toward the door, joining you and staring out at the street outside.

The entire planet feels like it rumbles and chaos reigns outside.

Something is moving the sand—coming toward the town.

“Holy fuck,” you whisper as it goes by, shifting the sand like it’s an ocean rather than earth. It flies out of the ground, sharp teeth the only thing you see as it consumes a bantha whole.

When it’s gone, the poser huffs. “Maybe we can work something out.” He turns to you, offering a hand, which is covered by fingerless gloves. “Cobb Vanth. I’m the Marshal here.”

You take it hesitantly, glad that things are still black and white when you make contact. “(Y/N).”

He notices your hesitation and chuckles. “The Weequay in there is Sala, my Soulmate. I’ll see if they can’t whip up something for the kid; I’m sure he’s starving.”

“Very,” you say, just before he goes to leave.

When it’s just you and Din, you look over at your companion. “Krayt dragon, huh?”

“Yep,” he sighs, already sounding tired.

You laugh. “I know I said I could bring you to one when we met, but I was totally kidding.”

He looks over at you and you can feel the low-level glare behind the visor, but it only makes you snicker. “I hate you.”

“You’re so full of shit,” you retort immediately.

*

You finally get to repay your debt.

It’s not what you’re thinking about when you shove Din out of the way of the krayt’s projectile venom, but it’s repaid nonetheless.

Din doesn’t think of it immediately, either, as he’s rather more concerned with the fact that you’re sent flying across the desert into a pile of debris and sharp rocks.

“(Y/N)!”

Before he can run to you, Cobb grabs his arm. “The dragon!”

To be honest, killing the dragon feels like a bonus when he pulls himself together and figures out a plan. When the great beast explodes, the Tuskens and the villagers cheer, but Din races back to the place he saw you last. He pushes aside the remains of one of those massive weapons they built to find you, laying on the ground. For a moment, panic clutches his heart, but then you groan.

“Am I dead?” you ask.

Din lets out a breath, hardly managing it, as he kneels next to you. “Dumbass.”

“Because it feels like I’m dead.”

“Dumbass,” he repeats, ripping your shirt away to find a deep cut in your side, just above your hip. “Of all the ways to pay your debt—”

You sit up, wincing. “Oh,” you say, as if you hadn’t realised it, “I guess I did that, too.”

Din’s heart is still beating a million klicks a second at how close you were to being dead, but for a second, it flips, realising that you hadn’t saved him just to pay the debt. And then, as he’s helping you off the ground and bringing you toward the others, who have bacta patches ready, his heart sinks.

Your debt is paid. You don’t have any reason to stay with him and the kid. As soon as you get back to the city, he’s going to have to watch you leave.

Shit. He didn’t think this through.

Meanwhile, you’re on the same train of thought. Does he really think you saved him for the debt? Does he want you gone that bad? It makes sense. You’re a pain in the ass, with all the training you need. But...well, you thought he might’ve—

“I’ve changed my mind,” you declare.

Din, terrified, attempts to sound neutral. “About?”

“The worst job we’ve ever taken. This is definitely it,” you huff as he helps you down onto a smoother boulder, taking patches from a Tusken.

He goes to use them, but you raise a hand.

“If you even think about getting near my wound with those nasty gloves, I’m going to skin you,” you threaten.

Frankly, Din is too shaken to even laugh. The silence lays there, stilted, as he removes his gloves and sits somewhat behind you, on another close stone. You’ve taken yours off, too, seeing as one is ripped all the way through.

He’s careful with the bacta patch and his bare hands, making sure not to touch your skin.

Now, of all moments, would be the worst time to find out that you really don’t have a reason to stay.

While he works, he thinks, briefly, that he should say something. “(Y/N),” he starts to say. “I—”

But that happens to be the moment he’s putting the bacta patch on. You suck in a sharp breath through your teeth, wincing. Your hand flies out, reaching for something to ground you. Of course, because something out there has it out for you, you grab his hand, forgetting that his gloves are, for once in his life, not there.

You realise, ridiculously, that his hand is warm.

And then the world around you explodes into colour.

The faded yellow of the surrounding desert is overwhelming with how it burns into your eyes alongside the brilliant blue of the sky. The surrounding Tuskens are in browns and greys, simple things, but so, so beautiful to your new sight. You breathe out, a shaky action.

Behind you, Din comes to see the same, but his gaze is stuck on the back of your head—the (h/c) of your hair and how the light catches in it, despite it being a complete mess.

You barely have the breath to gasp, but you do, whirling around to face him.

His beskar is beyond what you’d pictured: a shining, sparkling silver that could stand out on a star. No wonder rooms fall silent at the sight of him.

Din has the same thought about your eyes. On death’s door, all he’d wanted was to know what colour they are and now he knows, but it feels so useless now. He doesn’t even know what to call them. Sure, (e/c) would work, however weakly. You are...something else. You always have been, but now it’s like he can see it, the beauty of who you are so plainly painted into your features.

Din doesn’t even have the time to be afraid of your reaction before the words are slipping out. “I don’t want you to go.”

You just stare at him for a long moment, words processing.

It...kind of freaks him out.

He jumps when you fling yourself at him, arms wrapped around his shoulders in the tightest hug he’s ever gotten. Immediately, he responds, clutching the back of your shirt like it’ll save his life.

“Thank the Force,” you breathe out, just beside where his ear is under the helmet. “I don’t wanna leave.”

Din lets out a breath of relief and tugs you closer so you’re practically sitting on his lap. It can’t be comfortable, but you don’t seem to mind. When you do finally pull away, it’s to press your forehead against his helmet. It sends a swell of affection through him again, your constant Keldabe kisses. He taught you something important to his culture, to him, and here you are, using it without thought.

“Is it too late to tell you that this is the Mandalorian equivalent of a kiss?” he murmurs, more than a little embarrassed.

You laugh softly, arms reaching to rest around his neck. “And I thought you were so cool.”

“I just blew up a krayt dragon,” he argues.

“Oh, you’re plenty badass, Din,” you tease back, “just...not smooth.”

He huffs. “I’m gonna kick your ass next training session.”

A grin comes over your face and, for a second, he can’t comprehend why that would make you smile—until he realises that he just promised a next time. You’d genuinely believed he wanted you gone and Din thought you wanted to leave, but neither of you were right. 

A whine from below catches both your attention.

The child reaches up from the ground, making grabby hands.

You laugh, a noise Din echoes quietly, and pluck him from the ground, holding him in your careful hands. “Hey, buddy. Feeling left out?”

He squeaks a confirmation, his little hands—green hands, you realise, deeply amused—reaching for Din’s helmet. Once he has a comfortable hand, he bashes his head against the helmet.

Din yelps, not out of pain, but concern, grabbing for the kid, who wobbles dizzily.

“Oh, shit—” Din says.

“Woah, woah,” you get out between wheezing laughs. “Don’t do that! His head is much harder than yours.”

The kid makes a weak huff and curls against Din’s chest stubbornly.

“I think that was an attempted kiss,” you suggest to Din.

Underneath his helmet, he grins. Petting the child’s head with a gentle finger, he looks back up at you. “It was cute.”

“Very,” you agree.

Without prompting, Din reaches for your hand again, a little hesitant. You take his gladly, running your thumb across his knuckles, which makes him shiver.

“Clan of three,” he whispers.

You lift your gaze. “Hm?”

“The Armourer, she said, ‘Clan of two’ when she gave me my sigil,” he explains. “I wanted to correct her then.”

The smile on your face is beyond words. “Clan of three has a ring to it. You’re stuck with me for good now, Din Djarin.”

He snorts and raises your hand to his helmet, touching it briefly to the metal in lieu of kissing it.

Tatooine might be the worst place in the universe, Din thinks that it doesn’t matter so much where he is. Sitting here, with you and the kid, he thinks that this might be home.

*

River’s Tags: @hahaboop & @mystoragehatesme

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