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dindjarindiaries · 2 months

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For the prompts request could you please do “I don’t think I can walk that far… or at all”, “stay where you are, I’m coming to get you”, and “I’m sorry, I know it hurts” with Hunter pretty please???? I need some Hunter comfort before tbb s3 ruins us all ❤️🙃😶

character: Hunter (The Bad Batch)

prompts: “I don’t think I can walk that far… or at all”, “Stay where you are, I’m coming to get you”, and “I’m sorry, I know it hurts”

warnings: blood & injuries

main masterlist • hunter masterlist

Your breaths came in panicked gasps as you helped yourself to sit up against the nearest wall. You squeezed your eyes shut for a moment, replaying the last few moments over again in your mind.

You were laying down cover for Wrecker when they started to close in on you. There was barely anywhere to go, but you tried your best to stick to the shadows and shoot. You were convinced you had them all no problem—you always did—but just when you started to lower your blaster, a final one jumped out, and you had no time to hide from their blaster bolt.

They were dead, now, but that didn't hide the damage. Your leg was hit with a clean shot, and as you reopened your eyes, you gained the faith to look at it. Charred skin around the wound still glowed a fiery orange, and blood was just starting to seep from it.

The sight of it made you dizzy for a moment, as did the shock, but you pushed through and reached for the comm on your belt. You forced your breathing to even out before you activated it. "Hunter." You paused, swallowing down a groan of pain as you looked up to the open sky of the planet above you. "I'm hit."

"You're what?!" Hunter's comm went quiet for a moment, and you had no doubt he was cursing to himself. "How bad?"

You glanced down at your wound again. The color was fading, but the bleeding was quickly getting worse. "Direct. On the leg."

"Are you okay?" Hunter's voice was breathless. When you didn't respond, his words only sounded more panicked. "Can you make it back to the ship?"

You shook your head to yourself. "I don’t think I can walk that far… or at all." You forgot to lift your hand from the comm's activator as you released a tight groan of pain. "It's bad, Hunt. I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize, Sunny." Hunter's command was gentle, despite the way his voice shook. "Stay where you are, I’m coming to get you."

You set the comm back on your belt and closed your eyes, focusing on your breathing once again. The shock was starting to wear off, which meant the pain of your wound was getting worse. You had nothing on you to stop the bleeding, and even if you did, there was no telling that you could actually do anything to help it.

Hunter called out your real name in panic as he approached. You opened your eyes to look at him, watching as he knelt at your side and looked at your wound. His body froze at its severity, and though his helmet hid his face from you for now, you could picture the handsome features of his face contorted in horror.

Hunter cursed under his breath and lifted a hand to your face. "You're losing a lot of blood." He tugged the scarf off his neck and began to wrap it around your leg. You cried out before you could stop it, holding his wrists as his visor glanced at you. "I’m sorry, I know it hurts." He exhaled a deep, troubled breath and shook his helmet. "I should've been here."

"It's not your fault." You spoke through your gritted teeth, desperate to comfort him. "You had a more important role to—." You cut yourself off with a whimper as Hunter tied off the scarf tight.

"Still." Hunter put his arms under your back and your knees and nodded at you. "Just hold on. Okay?"

You returned his nod, closing your eyes and cradling your head against him as he lifted you. You bit your cheek to keep yourself from protesting in pain when his running caused your wound to bounce uncomfortably. Hunter would only free a hand from you to shoot his blaster as he made his way back to the ship, where Wrecker was hopefully awaiting you.

"Hunter!" Wrecker's voice exclaimed in hardly concealed relief. "Why do you have Sun..."

Wrecker stopped himself as you raised your head to look at him. His helmet was off, and his expression instantly dropped in worry.

"Wha-What happened?"

"Direct hit, to the leg." Hunter stepped closer to Wrecker. "I need to get us out of here first."

Wrecker nodded in understanding. "I've got Sunny." He took you from Hunter with ease, and when you let out a groan of protest at the movement, Wrecker shifted the way he was holding you.

"Start treating it if you can!" Hunter called the words out over his shoulder on his way to the cockpit. You were stuck with a different kind of pain at his actions; if Tech were still around, he wouldn't have had to worry about handing you off to Wrecker. Tech would've already had you out of this damn wretched system.

"Hey, Sunny." Wrecker began to distract you as he smiled at you and set you down in the nearest chair. You whimpered, but still offered the best smile you could in return. Wrecker's smile grew more before it started to falter. "This wasn't because you were covering me, was it?"

You shook your head. "It wasn't your fault, Wrecker." You hissed when Wrecker untied the scarf around your wound. "I let down my guard too fast."

Hunter managed to pilot the Marauder off the planet as Wrecker started attending to your wound. When the ship was in hyperspace, Hunter raced out to join you again, and Wrecker instantly moved aside to let Hunter take over. As Wrecker attended to the cargo he'd brought on board, Hunter removed his helmet and focused on the task at hand.

But you couldn't stand the worry in his eyes as he began the bacta treatments.

"Hunter." Your voice was gentle, almost hushed, as you called for him. He didn't look up at you, his focus too sharp on your wound. "Hunt."

The nickname finally earned his gaze. You brushed the wisps of hair back from his forehead for a moment and nodded with as much reassurance as you could muster.

"I know it looks bad, but I'm okay." You nodded again. "I promise."

Hunter searched your gaze for a lie and found none. He exhaled in relief, his eyes closing as he leaned his forehead against your knee. You kept your hand on the top of his head, running your knuckles over his hair to soothe him. One of his hands gave your calf a gentle squeeze.

"I'm here."

Hunter lifted his head and reopened his eyes, and your heart shattered at the vulnerability he didn't bother to hide from you—because he knew he didn't have to. "So many losses." He was choked up, causing you to cup his cheek for comfort. "And I almost thought you..."

He didn't have to finish the thought. You shook your head at him. "It's gonna take more than a blaster shot to get rid of me." You leaned forward, biting back the protest your wound gave at the movement, and left a lingering kiss on his forehead. "We're all right."

Hunter began to smile and nodded, his hand taking yours from his face and giving it a squeeze before he dropped it to start tending to your wound again. You sat in silence, but the tension was gone, exchanged for the breathless relief of your safety.

A lot of things had changed for the worst over the past few months, but one thing would always be for certain: you and Hunter.

#i need to give this man a hug actually #tbb hunter #sergeant hunter #sergeant hunter x reader #tbb hunter x reader #the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #prompts #dindjarindiaries

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onceuponapuffin · 3 months

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My Good Omens Season 3 Predictions

Based on the Amazon Playlist and Established Patterns in S1 and S2

I’ve been listening to the songs on the official playlist that Amazon released in December, and I’ve been thinking about it non-stop. It’s been long enough, and now I feel like I have a solid enough footing to have ideas about season 3 based on the information given to us by the playlist (especially the songs Neil provided). Keep in mind that this is my speculation only. I may be entirely wrong, this post may age poorly, but I am okay with that. At the end of the day, I know for absolute fact that I will be THRILLED with whatever season 3 actually brings (But please – for my sanity – let there be a happy ending for Crowley and Aziraphale).

First of all, we know the season was outlined back in 2005, and I would assume (for the sake of this post if nothing else) that by the time the s3 announcement came, Prime had the general outline. And so, in the spirit of how this show does things, the playlist is full of Clues.

GIF by fuckyeahgoodomens

I’ll put the songs in parenthesis as I go.

Between “Before the Beginning” and “In the Beginning,” i.e. Flashback 1:

We’re going to start the season with Crowley’s Fall (Midnight Rain). Neil has said that he’s not going to ever tell us Starmaker’s name, so I’m not expecting that. But we know that each season starts with a prologue, and we also know that these flashback mirror the current events. Crowley’s Fall makes a lot of sense to start with because it is the first thing that pulls him and Aziraphale apart. And where are we starting from in present day? The Divorce.

How Are Crowley and Aziraphale Doing?

Bad (I’m a Mess). Crowley presents fine to the world, but we, who know him, can see he is struggling. I don’t know if he’ll actually go to therapy, but I would adore it if we got a glimpse of Crowley trying it and being like “NOPE” when it got too hard. He keeps expecting Aziraphale to walk around every corner, and keeps replaying the divorce in his mind (Just My Imagination).

Aziraphale isn’t doing well either. The Kiss, and by extension his last conversation with Crowley plays on his mind all the time (Could’ve Been).

Very soon after the playlist was released, one of my Good Omens friends on Discord (I forget who it was, I am so sorry), suggested that maybe Aziraphale is communicating with Crowley through his dreams. Honestly, I am so on board with this. With the number of songs that mention dreams and daydreams in this playlist, there is no way that Crowley’s dreams and/or imagination won’t play some kind of role in this season (In Dreams, Just My Imagination).

Minisodes

The Titanic

I think the most interesting thing is that we’re going to have at least one minisode about them alone through time. It’s something that we haven’t seen before, and it parallels their current journey.

That being said, I think one of these will be the Titanic (My Heart Will Go On). Here’s how I see it happening:

Crowley is the one on the ship. He’s not there to sink it, he’s just there to enjoy himself. Maybe he plays around with the kids a bit, maybe he makes friends. Point is, the humans have built this supposedly-unsinkable ship of dreams and he just has to see it. He’s there when it sinks. Maybe he even tries to save people or get the other ships to come faster, but he can’t save everyone.

Heartbroken, he returns home to his dark flat. He doesn’t turn on any lights. There are two envelopes waiting for him. He sits at the table to read them in the dark. The first is a commendation from Hell:

“Great job sinking the Titanic! Downstairs are Very Impressed with your work, as always!” He scoffs and tosses it aside. The second one is from Aziraphale.

Oh great, he thinks, Just what I need, a little ‘oh how dare you drown all those people you evil demon you.’ when I’m already feeling like shit. He opens it anyway. The first lines read:

“My Dear Crowley,

I heard that you were aboard the Titanic when it sank. Are you alright?”

Crowley breaks down and cries. ~End Scene~

1941

The playlist has Heart and Soul on it, but not a recent version – it’s specifically one that was recorded in 1939. So we’re almost definitely getting 1941 Part 3.

GIF by mimisempai

We’re going to find out what happened to cause their huge shift in dynamics from Date Night to 1967, and I think it’s a kiss. Maybe a kiss on the cheek? I’m not entirely sure. I do hope they get to slow dance to A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square though.

The Reunion

My friends, it will not go well. This is one of the songs that Neil chose – Cry Me a River. It just reeks of Aziraphale coming back and Crowley being (understandably, and rightly) being bitter towards him. Aziraphale will, eventually, I’m sure, get back in his good books, but he’s gonna need more than an I Was Wrong Dance to do it.

(Actually?) Saving the World

Okay so being perfectly honest, the only reason either of them are the lead characters in this series is because they’re so freaking loveable. They are very bad at their jobs. Anathema, Newt, and Adam saved the world in S1, and although the Husbands gave Adam a little pep-talk, I think he’s smart enough that he could have managed it on his own if he had to.

So, this time they actually need to save the world and have an actual plan. This is where I think a second body swap will happen – hear me out! First of all, remember that no one aside from Gabriel (who is Someone Knows Where), none of the angels or demons have figured out their trick from the first time. So I don’t think it is the plan, but I do think it will be part of the plan. Where am I pulling this idea from? The Show Must Go On, another one of Neil’s choices. It sounds like it’s from Aziraphale’s perspective, but Queen songs are usually associated with Crowley. Seems odd, right? Maybe because it is. Maybe because they swap.

The Book of Life

I think we’re going to see The Book of Life, and I think it’s going to basically be The Book of Love. I think this is where we’re going to get the Main Thesis. The Answer to Life, the Universe, and Everything, if you will. Love. It’s supposed to be Love.

The Book of Love – another of Neil’s choices.

Epilogue

I predict they get their South Downs cottage (Neil said “not yet,” which implies it’s coming). And there’s also a wedding, though I’m not sure whose it will be (The Book of Love). I REALLY hope that it’s Crowley and Aziraphale, because they deserve that kind of happy ending, and Neil is too much of an Ally not to realize how important it is that they get to Live Happily Ever After.

One Last Thought

I still have no idea what to make of I’d Rather Go Blind. That’s it. That’s the last thought I wanted to share that doesn’t really fit in anywhere else.

Thanks for going on this journey with me. Let’s make our Bingo cards and see if I managed to get anything right in 3-4 years.

#good omens #good omens meta #crowley #aziraphale #ineffable husbands #aziracrow #good omens 2 #good omens season 3 #season 3 predictions #season 3 speculation #aziraphale x crowley #good omens fandom #i'll be fine as long as they get their south downs cottage ending #season 3 playlist #playlist analysis

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thesherrinfordfacility · 10 months

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Longwinded anon again. It's very easy to see where Aziraphale needs to get his act together/get therapy in regards to his belief in Heaven's essential goodness (and it was always very odd to see fans believing that four years would have been sufficient, narrative-wise, for that to happen--four years is nothing to characters who are immortal). Crowley, though, is still doing one of the most toxic things on his side of the relationship: he's being over-protective. In S1, the "damsel in distress" bits, which I know some fans like to romanticize, are harmful to both characters, because they make Crowley feel like he's doing something heroic when he isn't (every rescue in S1 is unnecessary) and encourage Aziraphale to abandon his agency. In the narrative arc, Aziraphale's discorporation, which Crowley fails to stop, is liberating. He does his conscientious objector bit, chucks himself out of Heaven, kicks Crowley out of his depression in the bar, vanishes the soldier, and then has to forcibly remind Crowley at the airfield that /now/, in fact, Crowley needs to do something or there will be irreversible consequences. And then they rescue each other through the body swap.

S2 doesn't have the big swoopy rescue scenes, aside from the 1941 replay, but what it does have is Crowley withholding key information that might well have altered Aziraphale's behavior. He clearly hasn't been forthright about what Gabriel really said at the execution, and he never gets around to mentioning that Aziraphale has put himself in danger of being zapped out of existence by Heaven. (This is very PRIDE & PREJUDICE: Lydia elopes with Wickham in part because her older sisters don't publicize his bad behavior.) Again, he thinks of himself as Aziraphale's protector, and while Aziraphale knows that Crowley likes to protect him--he even says so--in S2 he doesn't fully understand what Crowley is protecting him from. Nina asks Aziraphale why he doesn't stick up for himself, and he shows once again that he can, but in S2 Crowley thinks it's his job to keep Aziraphale safe from any real Heaven-sent nastiness that might puncture his innocence. Which prevents Aziraphale from evaluating his choices once the Metatron shows up.

(As for S3: Gaiman does appear committed to getting them together in their cottage, so I don't think a permanent breakup is on the horizons. I do think something drastic has to happen, whether becoming mortal, becoming a "new" sort of immortal being tied to Earth rather than Heaven and Hell, Aziraphale delivering a full-bore public rejection of Heaven with attendant consequences, etc.)

Longwinded Anon✨, light of my life, you are officially driving me insane with these asks (screenshots of others under the cut); there is so much fascinating insight to talk about. first of all, though, welcome back and i hope you are also Surviving following s2!✨

these two characters are two of the most fun to dissect and examine. they are hugely multifaceted, and every time i watch s2 and ruminate on them, there is more and more to find. the below is the result of those ruminations, and i feel the obligation to warn anyone reading that it is going to be a very, very long one, so ✨buckle tf up✨

further messages from Longwinded Anon✨, my beloved:

aziraphale: insecurity

to me, one of the key tenets of aziraphale's character is a deep-seated and complete sense of insecurity and lack of self-esteem. and it's not unfathomable to think that he's had a lack of self-worth for some time, carrying all the way through to the Feral Domestic™ (FD). bear in mind that all of the below is without reference to the pre-fall scene, which ill cover separately later on.

there is however the fairly obvious element that heaven and the archangels completely disregard aziraphale, and are condescending and reductive in how they perceive and interact with him. aziraphale, i think, adopted this mindset pretty heavily in s1 - one such example being the "I'm soft" line - and it is further explored in s2, but specifically at the later end.

aziraphale in s2 seems much more self-possessed and 'together', and a key element of that shift is not only his liberation from heaven, but also that he somewhat starts to see himself through crowley's eyes as possibly being worthy of being loved. i think that he starts to think of himself as, in fact, having intrinsic value.

this is shown, in particular, in s2 by the contrast between ep2's rock scene (where he starts to question the depth of his angelic allegiance, and that he might have actually done the right thing by following his own personal conviction and helping save job's children), and the majority of ep5 (ie. his absolutely astounding - by aziraphale standards - amount of confidence in himself to get him and the ball attendees out of demonic danger).

this is brought to a head though by shax's comments in ep5, where she really drives a stake into the core of aziraphale's insecurity. she remarks on his propensity for indulgence (sushi/meals), his tendency to be overtrusting and naive ("softest touch"), his lack of traditional angelic quality ("went native"), and the question of what exactly crowley feels for him ("emotional support angel").

setting aside Michael's acting - which was truly mesmerising in this one little scene, probably one of his set-pieces in the show, honestly - that tells us that this really got to him, we know from everything we have seen of aziraphale in GO that these are likely thoughts that he has repressed, or pretends are not conceivable when they absolutely are.

my final interpretation of aziraphale's insecurity, however, is not necessarily that he thinks he is without value or merit whatsoever, but that he is not enough.

he's good enough to guard the eastern gate, but not good enough to keep adam and eve from temptation. he's good enough to guard and monitor the antichrist, but not enough to be truly accepted as part of the heaven hive (his physical sentry post on earth notwithstanding). he's good enough for crowley to run away with to alpha centauri, but not enough to convince crowley to choose to stay and fight with him to prevent the apocalypse.

this starts to wane in s2, and he's noticeably more happy and confident... right up until ep6 when he's good enough to be loved by crowley enough to spend eternity with, but not enough for crowley to sacrifice his hang-ups with heaven and help him rebuild it as a team so noone else ever has to suffer what they both did.

the lines however in ep6 that particularly broke my heart, because aziraphale literally conveys this whole painful, bleeding part of his psyche to crowley, are the following:

a: "if im in charge, i can make a difference."

a: "i don't think you understand what im offering you."

whatever the motive behind metatron's offer to aziraphale (and therefore calling into question the sincerity of his compliments to aziraphale), aziraphale has literally just been told that not only does someone who - whichever way you slice it - is the highest being in heaven that he has the ability to run it, but he has the ability to completely gut and rebuild it for the better.

harking back to ep1 with crowley's statement that aziraphale only calls him for three reasons, one of which is telling crowley something clever ie. his own achievements, it does make me wonder how often this scenario truly happens. maybe it does happen often, but what does aziraphale actually consider to be an achievement? something to be proud of himself for, that is purely reflective of his ability and - by extension - worth?

when aziraphale tells crowley that he might be misunderstanding what aziraphale is offering him, i don't interpret it as anything to do with restoring crowley; instead, i just see aziraphale telling crowley that he is offering up absolutely everything that he is, every single atom and aspect of him, and all crowley has to do is trust him enough to take it. he is saying that he will love crowley, and crowley can be free to love him, but only, in aziraphale's eyes, if crowley can accept aziraphale as he is; that he is enough.

during this whole part of the scene, crowley won't even look at him. won't even face him, sunglasses or not, and acknowledge what aziraphale is saying, right up until this line. you can visibly see that aziraphale starts to get angry that the one person who made him feel any self-worth might in fact have never seen him as good enough in the first place, that crowley didn't in fact love every part of him, and was choosing to cherrypick the aspects of aziraphale that suited crowley, rather than the whole.

this snippet of the scene is compounded by being sandwiched by these two crowley lines which, in my eyes, really highlighted that crowley is in fact only choosing to accept aziraphale in small measures, and that other elements of him are not enough:

c: "...you're better than that, angel!"

c: "you idiot, we could have been us."

aziraphale is enough exactly as he is; he's not perfect and certainly not wholly complete, but for crowley to dig at aziraphale by intimating that he is not reaching the bar that crowley has set for him - potentially subconsciously - is likely be the true end for how much stock aziraphale put in crowley's perception of him, and by extension the worth that he thought he had in crowley's mind. instead, aziraphale is now left to find a way of building his sense of self-worth all by himself - and does so by stepping into that lift.

crowley: salvation

im not going to necessarily talk about all the times that crowley demonstrates an almost pathological need to be aziraphale's saviour, because frankly Longwinded Anon✨ has that covered. but as with all things GO-related, i think it's important to try to understand why.

i truly think that a cornerstone of crowley's romanticism is deeply rooted in the concept of salvation. now, we know that he doesn't appear to give a flying fuck about salvation from heaven, but he certainly seems to put a great deal of import on being aziraphale's hero, and later he seems to question a great deal when aziraphale essentially finds a hero elsewhere.

as LW Anon✨ said, aziraphale is very cognizant that crowley likes to play hero where he's concerned, and seems simultaneously resigned and excited by the matter; resigned because actually, sometimes, aziraphale is smart or powerful enough to keep himself safe, but excited because this is possibly the epitome of how crowley expresses his love for him.

aziraphale shows that he is fully aware of this characteristic of crowley's, and whilst he does play into it (which we saw throughout all of s1e3) to 'make crowley happy' (and, dare i say, also because at this point it is the supernatural, sex-less interpretation of centuries-long foreplay) in s2 it almost starts to become neglectful, overbearing, and dismissive of - as LWA✨ says - any true agency that aziraphale has built since breaking from heaven. this, incidentally, is highlighted in the following exchange:

c: "im gonna get the humans out of here and then im coming back, i won't leave you on your own."

a: "i know, but i have a suggestion-"

c: [interrupts] "ive got this."

whether crowley feels like he is missing any genuine overture from heaven to apologise for making him fall for a minor infraction, or he feels guilty about something that he did (ie possibly what made him fall) and is making his own reparations in the outlet of constantly being aziraphale's saviour, the one that is certain is that crowley has to feel needed, and by extension - loved.

he does have a nasty habit of putting aziraphale down (which ill talk about next), however much in jest, and placing aziraphale constantly under his metaphorical wing. aziraphale going so far in s1 to actually work out the apocalypse and proceed to take what he believes is the right action to prevent it on his own must have, by extension, sent crowley reeling - if aziraphale can in fact look after himself, where does that leave crowley? what else, in crowley's eyes, could he possibly bring to the table that would make aziraphale want to keep him? love him?

i think that this is crowley's own brand of insecurity; that unless he is performatively saving aziraphale and protecting him from harm, and actively dismissing aziraphale's ability to protect himself sufficiently enough, he has no discernible quality that aziraphale would want. so instead he tries to make himself so integral to aziraphale's survival so that aziraphale has no choice but to keep him.

the fact that aziraphale saves himself in s1, and they then reflectively save each other, did wonders for aziraphale in progressing as a character. however, in crowley, i feel that this frightened him so emotionally that it regressed his character somewhat. all coming to the climax of when aziraphale, in good faith, offers crowley the chance at salvation for himself, crowley vehemently refuses it and takes it to insult. there are many other valid and understandable reasons why crowley rejects the prospect, but one of them to me is that it would leave crowley's fundamental role in aziraphale's existence as completely redundant.

both: demonstrating love

essentially what i put in an ask recently, but needed referencing here too.

leading on from crowley and his hero/saviour complex: the thing is that these are two diametrically opposing people in all but a handful of aspects. crowley by large is usually the more obviously demonstrative in his affection, borne out of many different reasons, and he is the ultimate Acts of Service (ft. Quality Time) dude. aziraphale tends to be more subtle, with Looks and Words, in how he displays his, so let's give him the Words of Affirmation (ft. QT) crown.

in s2, it seems to me that this hasn't really changed, but they are starting to cross over into speaking the language that the other understands. and to me, this comes to a head by the time of the ep5, and the ep6 FD. so obviously crowley has finally bridged into verbally demonstrating to aziraphale how he feels. aziraphale did the same action but mirrored by - however misguided - offering crowley the chance to be restored.

but neither want what the other is giving; they want what the other usually does to show their affection. aziraphale wants crowley to demonstrate his willingness to be with aziraphale by coming with him to heaven, and crowley wants aziraphale to acknowledge what he is telling aziraphale and respond in kind. neither are at fault for wanting that; they have simply demonstrated their devotion to each other in different ways, but those ways have been quite damaging.

crowley does do a lot for aziraphale, that can't be denied, but AoS is way more demonstrative, and yet it's easy to miss what those acts are actually saying. WoA can be more casual but the words you choose speak volumes... "our car/bookshop", "id love for you to help me", "my friend crowley", etc.

whilst i don't necessarily subscribe to the psychology of love languages, they're useful for this sort of analysis. aziraphale does even branch out in other languages; he is constantly touching crowley this season; the pub, the ball, the bookshop in early ep6. quality time is a given, and has always been their common ground. giving gifts im not so sure on, but i think the significance of readily offering crowley the bookshop as being his - something that was wholly aziraphale's, not heaven's, and is aziraphale's own sanctuary - spoke volumes.

specifically in ep5 however, aziraphale really goes ham in demonstrating to crowley how he sees love, defines it, and that he could give this to crowley - the pinnacle of this being the dance and the evident romantic implications of it... it summarises all of aziraphale's own romantic idealistic make-up; touching, intimate conversation, choosing crowley as his partner, romantic literature, classical music, etc.

and whilst comedic and obviously reflective of crowley being otherwise preoccupied re: demon incursion, i also thought that the physical imagery of aziraphale literally dragging him to the dancefloor, and crowley questioning when they've ever danced in the past, was particularly telling about crowley's reaction to how aziraphale is trying to convey to him, without saying the words, that he loves him.

aziraphale in s2 truly does give crowley everything that he can. his love is quiet, and gentle, and romantic, and whilst not as high stakes as saving aziraphale's life, it is still valid. however, it seems that where aziraphale seems to have recognised his feelings quite early on and acknowledged them early on, having time to settle them into his soul (even if he couldn't act for fear of heaven), s2 seems to indicate that crowley refused to acknowledge his until the eleventh hour.

but crowley's love has been there all along, ticking away. ignoring his tendency to stick his oar in where it isn't needed (saving aziraphale and treating him as if he were made of glass), he shows his love in his own ways - following aziraphale around soho, silently supportive, admires him for calming down the bookshop and handling the IB situation, tidies the bookshop for him (which also possibly indicates that he's now finally accepting the bookshop as his home), etc.

both of them take a swan dive in the declaring-love endgame in ep6, but neither of them are responsive to the love language that they usually give. aziraphale is given words but wants actions, and crowley is given actions but wants words. the chronic lack of communication between the two of them throughout the show is the main contributing factor to this disconnect, and leads to serious ramifications in their ability to possibly mend it going into s3.

aziraphale: pre-fall

at the risk of daring to contradict LWA✨ in their assessment of aziraphale's feelings towards the angel-who-crowley-was (AWCW) in the pre-fall scene, upon reflection i don't get the sense that aziraphale falls in love with AWCW in this moment. and exactly as pointed out by @assiraphales, we don't have any of the gaps filled in between this scene and The Wall, so it's arguably unknown when exactly those feelings deepened.

there is definitely attraction of some kind (can angels experience physical attraction? presumably they do, if aziraphale thought the "gorgeous" comment was directed at him), an admiration of AWCW's abilities, and an immediate concern for AWCW's wellbeing if he were to question god. but i don't get the sense that he falls in love; more that he's bumped into a cool, attractive kid outside his locker and immediately starts spouting angelic heart eyes, and at the least develops an immediate fascination.

AWCW is presented as being rather classist in this scene, and whilst not outright maliciously rude, he definitely seems to look down on aziraphale, or consider him relatively inconsequential. which is odd, because i think if he actually listened to what aziraphale was telling him, aziraphale actually comes across as having his own brand of status. i can't imagine that any bog-standard angel would be entrusted with helping god with building Her ultimate creation, building humans, and being allowed to see the Great Plan. whilst maybe not the same level as AWCW, i think the fandom is underplaying aziraphale's own significance in this part of the story.

the fact remains however that the aziraphale we see in this scene is still the fundamental foundation of the aziraphale we see later on in the story. AWCW calls for him as he's wandering (rocketing) past, and aziraphale doesn't hesitate to come to AWCW's aid. he's presumably going somewhere, but prioritises helping someone who needs him, and does so out of kindness and then, it seems later on, out of attraction.

he recognises the achievement of AWCW's nebula, asks questions to learn more (and thus demonstrating his interest) of the construction and purpose of AWCW's craft, and outright compliments it for its brilliance and wonder. all behaviours that id say is rooted in wanting to establish a friendship, and meanwhile developing an arguably shallow crush.

i think that these are also general admirations that aziraphale brings forward as he gets to know crowley as a demon, but has to adjust his world-view that he may admire the principle if not the act; he thinks crowley is clever and fun and talented, even if he doesn't condone the new ways in which crowley displays this.

there are definitely times where aziraphale is still caught up in crowley being a good person and concluding that crowley must still be an angel in all but name, but i do not necessarily think that he thinks lesser of crowley as a demon out of maliciousness. i think it's hard for aziraphale to conflate the two ideas that a) crowley has moments of being a good person regardless of hellish or heavenly identity, and that b) crowley doesn't want to be an angel. aziraphale still parallels good with angelicness, holds being good (and therefore being an angel) as the epitome of character, and can't as a result understand that if they were given the opportunity to change and improve the bad bits of heaven, why crowley wouldn't want to help him.

as LWA✨ says, the further we see their story progress, it becomes clear that aziraphale then begins to hold himself above crowley morally, and this is largely lynch-pinned on their separate identities as an angel and demon respectively. aziraphale constantly bats crowley down and puts him back in his place throughout s1, but less so in s2; in this, id refer back to aziraphale's insecurity around his being a good enough angel, but now that we have the context of AWCW having been aziraphale's technical superior, doing this possibly helps him to feel better about himself. this is abhorrent behaviour and is not at all kind, that can't be denied, but i think it is however possible to empathise with it.

aziraphale has spent a long time having an endless reserve of love and not having a lot of places where he can meaningfully channel it. he's got humanity and earth, but whilst he certainly cares for it, it doesn't mean that he candidly loves it. he still feels kinship to heaven and the other angels, but he certainly doesn't love them. in fact the only person he's ever had to fully pour out his love has been into crowley, but faced with the prospect that crowley may still be like his angelic self in that regard (ie not love him back), i think that love has been repressed so much that it's almost atrophied and turned self-destructive and self-sabotaging. in that context, whilst awful and generally inexcusable, aziraphale's behaviour starts to make sense.

crowley: Lucifer theory

i will preface this by saying that despite initial excitement, i don't necessarily think that crowley was lucifer in the colloquialised sense that we regard lucifer in general culture, but perhaps more represents lucifer in the wider sense of having a story that mirrors the one we can somewhat attribute to lucifer. whether or not he will actually be named as lucifer i think is up for debate, but in any case let's take a look at what lucifer's story actually entailed.

now i realise that i am absolutely not an expert on the matter, but there are indeed a wealth of misinterpretations where lucifer as a biblical figure is concerned. i am very behind on this discussion, angelology (shudder) is not in my limited repertoire of specialist subjects, and i welcome anyone else adding in their thoughts on the matter.

but if anyone else has zero knowledge on lucifer, like me, we'll start with the basics as i see them. name coming from the Latin for light- or dawn-bringer, lucifer has been linked to the planet venus in various tellings in roman mythology. given the occasional bright illumination of the planet as seen from earth, this is in part where we coming to the moniker Morningstar when also historically referring to lucifer. so on this base level, we have the link between lucifer and crowley by way of celestial context.

now down to a potential mistranslation, the hebrew for the name of satan, helel, has become synonymous with the name lucifer, down to their respective translations akin to the Latin for 'light-bringer'/'morningstar' as above, but that does not necessarily indicate that lucifer and satan are the same being. so this is where im fairly confident in that whoever crowley was, which is possibly lucifer, his story ran parallel to that of the former relatively unknown being and not the latter more infamous one.

crowley has referenced lucifer in s1, which has led to the debunk that the two are the same being, but when rewatching it, i think it can be completely reinterpreted:

c: "i never asked to be a demon. i was just minding my own business one day and then... "oh lookie here, it's lucifer and the guys!"... ah, hey - the food hadn't been that good lately, i didn't have anything on for the rest of the afternoon..."

this doesn't need to mean that AWCW was the one who came across lucifer and cohort, but possibly that someone else did, or just exclaiming it in the general sense. getting whimsical in the headcanon space, AWCW may well have been enjoying his afternoon, chatting with friends that he thought he could trust, and thought he could share his thoughts on challenging how things are run (same as he did with aziraphale). evidently, whatever happened completely bit him on the arse, and at minimum partially resulted in his fall.

there are multiple references to crowley being at least an angel of import, almost too many to count. however a common theme in many references to venus in various religious and mythological texts is the concept of reaching for higher power, but to be cast down and punished for it. given the indication (iirc) from interviews and also the pre-fall scene that crowley was up for collaborating with god on how to improve things in heaven, it could stand to reason that in a moment of anger or frustration he voices the thought that he could do a better job running the place.

and if other angels were behind him in this, equally dissatisfied with their lot in heaven, and being set aside by god in favour of humanity, it similarly wouldnt be a huge leap to think that this one sentence, this singular half-baked thought, might have precipitated the war. following said war, as LWA✨ suggests, it would make sense that in an effort to lick his wounds and keep a low profile, crowley would take or accept a middling rank in hell, and possibly even volunteer for the assignment of original sin; all the more opportunity to remove himself completely from the narrative between heaven and hell.

which then, now that i think about it, completely recontextualises crowley's aversion to being a part in helping aziraphale rebuild heaven. why would he want to, why wouldn't he be petrified of it, when the last time went so badly? there must be a sense of resentment towards aziraphale in this regard - what makes aziraphale, a potentially lower angel, so special that he would be invited to completely revolutionise heaven, when all AWCW did was make suggestions, and end up being villified for it? if he did join aziraphale, and challenged him, would aziraphale then be forced to cast crowley out again? what would crowley stand to lose this time?

so this is where i think the concept of crowley having a huge secret that he's keeping from aziraphale comes into play, and i agree must come out in s3. it would completely derail any faith that aziraphale had in crowley, for him to have kept such vital information from him, his potential part in the fall. i could imagine aziraphale interpreting the reveal of this secret as being that crowley fooled and hoodwinked him, however false or unintentional that might have been, and it representing the last vestige of aziraphale's innocence and naivety being swept away.

edit, because @baggvinshield has put this theory so eloquently and with far more comprehension and education than i could hope for: Lucifer theory

there are so many more topics that i have sat in various documents and in my notes as concerns these two characters; aziraphale's obsession with control and 'playing god', their shared inability to communicate effectively and meaningfully, crowley and his propensity for unintentional temptation, whether the love between them truly equates to any semblance of trust, etc etc. some of these topics have been alluded to in the above, but i felt that the above essay might be sufficient reading for now. im adoring (if a little bemused by it) the amount of discussion this silly little blog is generating, and im always more than happy to share my thoughts on anything GO-related where people want it!!!

and now - back to answering the hundreds of asks that have accumulated whilst i've hyperfixated on the above. ta-rah!✨💓

#good omens #good omens season two #good omens spoilers #good omens 2 spoilers #good omens meta #good omens analysis #good omens speculation #not a shitpost but its good omens babyyyy #ask #the great go angelology debate of july 2023 #aka 'was crowley an archangel and was he raphael? answer: fuck knows'#the legend of the longwinded anon✨#🚨 lucifer theory🚨

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single-malt-scotch · 4 months

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Given we are two episodes in to bdubs this HC seasons I will ramble a tad about his format this season and the timeline/comparisons to past ones!

Let's talk in parts for a second. For thumbnails. I didn't really know what to expect tbh. He's been going more minimalist in thumbnails for a while now- HC S9 and Create have very simple thumbnails very focus on the builds (if they occur in the HC video). Go from season 7 HC to now and they've changed a Lot. S8 was simple too if you take away the color overlay. But S10 is mega simple. There isn't even a title on the thumbnails!

Then intros. S7 and S8 would randomly have an intro of "welcome to hermitcraft!" And sometimes none at all. S9 started "welcome to hoymicraf" (how do we spell this) consistently. Additionally all those seasons had some intros beginning with some third person camera to start a scene (more consistent as time went), or without that intro in season 7, 8 and 10 we'd also just start in first pov while bdubs is already in action. Additionally intro music was always very energetic, and so far what we heard in his first s10 intro (and based off the time lapses) we are getting something way more chill. Ep2's intro is one of those exceptions for the specific scenarios that happen sometimes. The choice of situational music.

General editing? Kinda crossed over with intros here because intros have very blatant editing with music and camera etc. Tbh the biggest thing to any season is music choice, which changes how things feel entirely. Past seasons had faster paced songs in intros and many building segments had orchestral, so on. The way those building segments play out has slowly turned into bdubs cutting it up to fit the beat of music, which is most apparent now in S10 and bwb S3. For S10 I feel like this enunciates the calm music even more as it puts emphasis on what is the louder/more striking note of the song. Through S10 episodes right now we have seen more use of replay mod in more than just the intro. Usually wide shots with music. Thought out compositions and wide shots often showing scale of things around him. Even purposefully taking moments to stop and pause and linger on the shot. Definitely more cinematic, and completely different with his it slows down.

It is interesting to see what some people might feel is a total 180! Considering I have seen the flow of his format for so long "slow" is not unfamiliar but because he has grown so much as a commentator he handles this very well. It's not "old inexperienced commentator" slow. Because you can tell if you pay attention he isn't different from who he has been in recent years. He's always the same and going this direction is done w the same level of development and experience. Hes still silly, he's still got energy. It's just presentation! It feels different a lot by how he's editing.

Even so it makes me wonder Why. Was his previous loud style and high energy more aimed at when his kids were just born and very little, and he had an obvious shift to making his videos possibly more appealing to children and be child appropriate? Has he 'mellowed out' for any particular reason? If you watch him a lot, especially his Livestreams (the member ones rly) bdubs thinks hard about his building skills. He is genuinely an artist aiming to improve every day and I think he's gotten a lot back into really expressing his thoughts and feelings regarding the art. It's been a gradual focus returning I have seen. Perhaps he has decided to lean into this more on purpose, and in doing so that shifts his focus away from what people felt was "childish" acting. But it's important to remember, as a bdubs lover, the analysis here isn't actually one to say he's "changed" because he hasn't. As a content creator he knows what he's going for and to some level has consciously made these changes. We still got bdubs, he's just doing it different. And honestly if you were turned off by the energy of S9, I highly recommend giving this season a watch if you want something more artistic, and good discussion about building process.

#hermitcraft #bdoubleo100 #bdubs #hermitblr

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joeymerenset · 2 days

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Void’s Romance Club blog Introduction

You can call me Joey, online I use the nickname Void, I use any pronouns but tend to prefer she/they (I’m still figuring that out,) I’m pan and polyamorous

I’m from Palestine and that is not up for your personal interpretation. It is a fact, and if you do not support Palestine, block me.

I’m obsessed with Romance club, my other interests include writing, analyzing literature and media, learning theology and culture, and making art, mostly by drawing but I do other things as well.

I speak Arabic, English and despite having learned French in school all my life, I only know the basics. Trying to learn it on my own time now.

Romance club facts:

I play Romance Club on three accounts because I cannot decide on love interests to save my life. 🥲

My first story on RC was The Flower from Tiamat’s Fire. My favorites are PSI and Song of the Crimson Nile.

I’d love to make friends/ find Romance Club mutuals, you can ask for my discord.

What Romance Club stories I’ve played, in order of my first to latest:

The Flower From Tiamat’s Fire

Status: on my 6th playthrough

Love Interest: Kingu

Path: Fire

Kali: Call of Darkness

Status: on my 3rd playthrough

Love Interest: Ratan

Path: Loyalty, Kindness of the Goddess. Now playing on Independence path

Heaven’s Secret

Status: Completed

Love Interest: Malbonte

Path: Harmony Bearer, Path of Malbonte

Heaven’s Secret 2

Status: Completed

Love Interest: Malbonte (plan to play on other account for Hunger)

Path: Composure

Rage of the Titans

Status: Completed

Love Interest: Murphy

Path: Divinity

The Desert Rose

Status: Season 3, Ep 6

Love Interest: Adil

Path: Rebellion, The Desert Flower

Song of the Crimson Nile

First account:

Status: Season 2, Ep 5 (caught up to latest update)

Love Interest: Undecided, waiting for Anubis

Path: Honesty, Necromancy

Second account:

Status: Season 2, Ep 5 (caught up to latest update)

Love Interest: Set

Path: Cunning, Oneiromancy

Kali Flame of Samsara:

First account:

Status: Season 1, Ep 11 (Caught up to latest update)

Love Interest: Ram

Path: Pride, Legacy

Second account:

Status: Season 1, Ep 5

Love Interest: Saraswati

Path: Passion, Freedom

PSI

First account:

Status: Completed, on my 7th playthrough (Replaying S3 for a bad ending)

Love Interest: Ivo

Path: Control, Form

Second account:

Status: Season 2, Ep 6

Love Interest: Kay

Path: Impulse, Form

Third account:

Status: Completed, on my 2nd playthrough (Replaying for middle ending)

Love Interest: Jonas

Path: Control, Form

Arcanum

Status: Previously reached the end of season 2 before making a second account, panicked when I couldn’t choose a love interest, and replayed the whole thing. Currently on Season 1, Ep 7

Love Interest: Liam (will play on other accounts for Bert and Rob)

Path: Emperor

Astrea’s Broken Heart

Status: Season 1, Episode 5 (caught up to latest update)

Love Interest: Undecided (will probably play on multiple accounts for Mikael, Raphael and Felonia)

Path: Faith

W: Time Catcher

Status: Season 1, Ep 4

Love Interest: Shen

Path: Moon Heiress

Legend of the Willow

Status: Was previously about to end season 2, forgot too many plot points. Now just began replaying

Love Interest: Kazu (Will probably play on other accounts for other love interests)

Path: Coldness, The Pearl Fox

Soulless

Status: Just started, Season 1 Ep 2

Love Interest: Threxia

Path: Pride

I will continue to update this list as I keep going.

#introduction #romance club

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bubblyani · 2 years

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Never Going Anywhere

(Kendall Roy x Reader)

A Kendall Roy (Succession) One Shot

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 1.1k+

Author’s Note: That pool incident in S3 made me come up with this scenario one fine day a while back but couldn’t write it then. Finally did. Make sure to enter this with some feels cause its full of em. Enjoy y’all!

My Kendall Roy Masterlist

What on earth, did you expect yourself to do? when that dreaded news reached your ears? A news so dreaded, that a breakup seemed almost relieving in comparison.

It would, wouldn’t it? When you heard the love of your life almost died.  Or seemed to have attempted to take his own life.

Yes, a breakup would have been better. Kinder even.

That phone call from Roman Roy replayed in your head in continuation. “Hey…look, don’t fuckin’ freak out ,okay? But it’s about Kendall…”

Not just anyone. But Kendall Roy.

Was your face turning pale as a ghost too dramatic? Was it sheer exaggeration when life almost left your own body in the process? Or was it nothing in comparison to you heading to the airport to fly to Italy at once?

That Roman. Was HE exaggerating? Was this his version of a cruel prank on you and his brother? Not by the tone of his voice, though. To his credit, he always approved of your relationship with Ken. A sigh left your lips as your foot kept tapping away throughout the entire 8 hour and 30 minute flight. At least until exhaustion and sleep took you over in between.

The disheveled expression felt sufficient to render you an uninvited guest at Lady Caroline’s Wedding. Not to mention your rushed pacing under the Tuscan sun with one question posed at any waiter around:   Scusami, Excuse me

dov'è il Signor Kendall? Where is Mr Kendall?

Signor Kendall…sì. Dov’è? per favore Mr Kendall…yes. Where? Please

“Hey, what are you doing here?” Shiv’s soft, concerned query broke your incessant and broken Italian.

“I -uh!” you panted, holding her hand on your shoulder as you looked around frantic “Here for Ken-I” “Okay, WHAT the fuck?” Roman’s hushed tone and appearance made you jump. “Right? for a minute I thought I was seeing things.” Shiv said, “I thought you had a deal making thing today” “It’s done already” blunt and straight was your reply, for your eyes were busy scanning around.

“Look, I called you… to let you know what happened to your lover boy, and that everything was OKAY. Not for you to make a grand fucking romantic gesture and come all the way here and make a scene.” Roman went on, “Like-is she even invited?” he looked at Shiv, point at you for certain. Yet that did not matter to you.   “I won’t ruin anyone’s wedding Rome, I-”

You froze.

Life suddenly returned to your body by the mere sight of Kendall Roy even a few feet away. Hands on his waist, his eyes squinted in disbelief and widened upon realization. The pacing of your heart increased as the pacing of his footsteps towards you did the very same. At last, the Tuscan heat was made aware. At last the sound of the beautiful music in the background found clarity in your ears. Kendall was safe and sound.

If everyone began to murmur and notice your presence even more, you would not blame them. Especially when your eyes began to well up with tears that your vision blurred. You felt your cheeks grow hot as you were overcome with emotion. Overcome with thoughts of what if. What if you never had that chance to see him again alive and well? What if you were too late? What if they were too late? What if the last time you ever saw him was when he left your apartment to go pack for Italy? Why was your embrace not tight enough? long enough? Why did you not kiss him long enough?

Your spiral dissipated when you felt Kendall gently pull you by the hand. Looking down you followed him in the midst of Shiv and Roman’s queries joined by Tom and Greg’s voices. The two pairs of footsteps traveled over green grass and stone rubble until your heels finally clicked inside the villa.

Silence has been your chaperone until Kendall finally shut the bedroom door behind him and released his hand from yours. He paced around.

It took 3 seconds. Until, “It wasn’t an OD, I swear”

Until He spoke. Finally.

No Hello, Hey, or even What are you doing here. For he knew what the biggest question you possibly could have had. And you will not lie, even after months of familiarizing it in your ears, heart and mind, his deep voice never failed to resonate through your soul.

“I uh-I was in the pool…” he began, “…and just fell out of the floaty. I-I was drunk” anxiety rife in his tone, Kendall looked up to face you with remorse.

Eyes watery and full, you said nothing. How surprising to see you managed to create more tears after all that you shed a few hours ago. After all the inaudible bawling and weeping your heart out at the window seat.

When your silence exceeded 2 seconds, it worried Ken. It seemed from the manner in which his brows furrowed.

“It-It wasn’t a suicide attempt either. Babe you gotta trus-”

“Ken”

Until you spoke. Finally.

And it was a herculean task, when there was a knot in your throat.

“Whenever-” clearing your throat, you continued “Whenever I see you, I see you...growing old.”

Despite Kendall’s shocked expression, you went ahead:

“I see you at the Hamptons , watching your grandkids play in the garden. While you feel the sun on your face, feeling so content”

The mere image of a smiling Kendall, did not fail to bring your own smile out. And you swore you could sense your heart bloom a little when Kendall himself let out a soft smile. On that beautiful face of his. A tear trickled down your cheek at last.

A deep breath later, you spoke once more, “And after all that you went through and learnt, I see you being free. Feeling free. Completely free”

Free. A word worth more than a billion dollars. A word that caused Ken’s smile to grow bigger, to the point your tears broke free from the invisible constraints around your eyes. And you broke in to a sob: “Ken, Y-Your life, your soul. It’s not meant to disappear so fast” you sobbed, feeling the shortness of your breath in between, “Not this fast, Ken. And I-I won’t know what I will do if it does. I honestly don’t know how I'll cope if it does. I can’t see it happen, Ken. I just can’t-”

“Hey-hey…” Ken’s soothing voice engulfed your soul, as his physical frame engulfed your own in the form of a complete embrace.

“Please! Don’t go. Don’t leave me like that. Don’t do that to me-“ Like a child, you bawled, staining his white, cotton linen shirt with your tears.

“Hey…Shhh” He continued to soothe, while his embrace grew tighter. As if he needed this.

“I’m so sorry-I just-“ you said, struggling for air, “I just love you so much-I-”

“I know-i know” He replied, holding you even tighter, following up with the words you longed to hear:

“I’m not going anywhere. I won't leave you like that. Never”

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

My Kendall Roy Masterlist

Tagged: @tammykelly @loveandthings11 Lemme know if you wanna get tagged.

#succession #kendall roy #kendall roy/reader #kendall x reader #kendall roy x reader #succession imagines #succession fanfiction #succession fanfic #jeremy strong #season 3 #s3 #succession season 3

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punchdrunkdoc · 1 year

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Part 2, Chapter 9

Summary: After the events of S3, Matt Murdock is trying to once again balance life as a lawyer and a vigilante. But he’s been scarred by loss and betrayal - will a mysterious new neighbour help him heal? Or will her secrets drag him back into the darkness?

Notes: This is a slow burn romance with an original female character, told in 3 parts. There is mystery, intrigue, action/violence and angst - all the good stuff!

Also available on AO3 and Wattpad

Masterlist

Reference pics

————–

PART 2

Chapter 9

Matt tried to hold on to his positivity over the next 24 hours. But it became increasingly difficult as the doubts started to multiply inside him.

It all started with a text message.

Or rather, with an ignored text message.

I’m sorry I wasn’t here when you left. Can you let me know you arrived okay? I’ll be safe out there, if you promise to do the same. Matt.

He sent it straight after he listened to Calina’s voicemail. But he didn’t get a reply.

He figured she must be tired from her journey to…wherever it was the Widows called home. He figured she would respond in a few of hours when she’d gotten some rest. But by mid morning, there was still nothing. So he sent another message.

Hey, please text when you get the chance, to let me know you got there okay. I’m in the office all day, so I’ll have my phone with me.

Nothing.

And after several more hours of compulsively checking his messages, unease started to grow. Was she safe? Had she made it back to the Widow’s base? Had gotten in trouble en route?

Or was something else going on?

He replayed her voicemail again, hunting for any clues that might explain the doubts he was now experiencing. Doubts about whether she was telling the truth when she said she’d be home soon.

But her voice sounded…fine. Completely normal. There was no hint of anger, or evidence that she was upset or hurt.

She sounded fine.

But she’d been trained her whole life to pretend, hadn’t she? She’d been trained to lie. To create a false persona, and manipulate people with words. And he’d seen first hand how easily she was able to deceive him...

So maybe he couldn’t trust her words, or the calm tone of voice she spoke them in.

He listened again, even more carefully.

“I’m sorry to leave like this, but Yelena called. The Widows found something - about what happened to me - and they need my help with it. So I’m headed back to the base for a few days.

I’ll keep in touch - as much as I can.

I…um… ….

Nevermind.

Take care, Matt. Be safe out there.”

That pause…She'd brushed it away with a murmured ‘Nevermind’, but there'd been a distinct pause. And the more he listened, the more he convinced himself that that pause was in fact filled with everything she wanted to say, but couldn’t.

Or wouldn’t.

That pause was the real message. The rest was fake. She was just pretending that her sudden departure was all about Widows' stuff and had nothing to do with his rejection of her.

Just like he pretended last night that he hadn’t rejected her at all.

Shit!

He needed to drop his pretence, so that she’d drop hers. He needed to be honest, so that she would be honest in return.

He still didn’t know what to say about what happened between them. But it was starting to feel imperative that he say something. So after getting home from work, he dialled her number.

But it just rang and rang and rang.

His nerves taut with unease, he hung up and typed out another message:

I’m sorry for last night. At the gym. And I’m sorry for afterwards, for pretending it didn’t happen. Please call me when you get the chance, Calina. We need to talk. I want to fix this between us. Please.

After another few hours of silence, he sent a final message before heading out for the night as Daredevil.

Please call. I miss you.

It was the truth. But that fucking wall around his heart fought him on even that measly amount of honesty. His gloved finger hovered over the send button for a long time before he finally found the courage to push it.

Then he switched off his phone, unable to bear the silence emanating from it any longer.

When he turned it back on in the morning - after a brutal night on the streets and a restless night alone in their bed - he was greeted with more of that damning silence. And by the time he got to work, his unease had turned into full blown panic. He paced his office, his phone pressed against his ear as he listened to Calina’s phone ring out.

The moment Foggy and Karen arrived, he marched into the front office and ambushed them. “Did Calina say anything the other night?”

“Good morning to you too, Matt,” Foggy teased as he shrugged out of his coat.

“This is important, Fog. Did she say anything?”

Karen answered instead. “She said she had a headache, so she left early. We never really got a chance to talk to her.”

“I offered to walk her home, but she said she was fine by herself,” Foggy added. “Why? What’s going on?”

“She left," Matt replied. "She left me."

“What? What do you mean?”

“She wasn’t there when I got home. She left me a voicemail saying the Widows had a lead on what happened to her so she needed to go back to them for a few days. But I haven’t heard from her since and I’ve been calling and texting…”

He waited for their reassurances. For an ‘I’m sure she’s okay’ or ‘its probably nothing’. But there was just a heavy silence. And he sensed the two of them looking at each other, concern radiating from them.

As well as…guilt?

“What is it?” he asked. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“When she came back from the bathroom that night, she looked upset,” Karen said. “And just before that, Foggy and I had been talking about…We were worried that she might have overheard us, because she left straight after.”

Matt got a sinking feeling in his gut. “What were you talking about?”

Karen twisted her clasped hands and Foggy shifted on his feet.

“What the hell were you talking about?” Matt repeated, his voice louder now.

“We were talking about you and Elektra,” Karen replied, her voice unsteady.

“I was talking about you and Elektra,” Foggy clarified, stepping in front of her. “Karen was just listening to my theory.”

“Your theory?” Matt bit out. “What exactly is your theory?”

“That because you’re still in love with Elektra, you’re maybe - subconsciously - using Calina as a way to make up for not saving her.”

“Jesus, Foggy! What the fuck?” Matt turned on his heel and raced back into his office.

“She might not have heard!” Foggy called from behind him.

But Matt knew the truth.

She heard.

It explained why she’d suddenly left and why she wasn’t taking his calls.

Fuck!

This was a nightmare.

He grabbed his phone off his desk and mashed the redial button. He needed to speak with her. He needed to tell her that Foggy’s theory was complete and total bullshit. He needed to beg her forgiveness and plead with her to come home.

He needed to hear her voice and know that he hadn’t lost her forever.

He listened to her phone ring and ring, but this time he didn't hang up.

He wouldn't.

He would keep calling until she finally answered.

———

“Will you answer that thing, or fucking chuck it out the window or something?” Yelena growled.

Calina had already muted the ringtone, but the sound of the phone vibrating in her pocket was audible in the room. It had been ringing on and off for what felt like hours - and every time she declined the call, another one would come through minutes later.

Matt wasn’t taking the hint.

He’d texted her again a couple of hours ago, so at least she knew why he was being so insistent.

I know you heard what Foggy said at the bar. It’s not true, Calina. Please answer the phone so I can explain. Please.

She’d read that message a million times, but couldn’t bring herself to believe his words. He was just feeling guilty, that was all. He was a good man - a good, Catholic man - it was natural for him to feel guilty about hurting her.

“You know I can’t answer it,” Calina sighed. “And I can’t turn it off or ‘chuck it out the window’ - I’m still waiting to hear back from Melina.”

Yelena typed a quick message on her own phone then held it up. “Problem solved. Melina will text me with the dosage, so can you please do something about that phone?”

Calina nodded and powered off the device. Everyone in the room groaned in relief, causing Calina to duck her head in embarrassment.

Inessa, one of the youngest members of the group raised her hand. “I must have missed something - why exactly are you ignoring Matt?”

To Calina’s surprise - and consternation - every single Widow now knew about Matt.

Anya couldn’t keep her mouth shut about him being Daredevil - which they all thought was pretty cool - and then Yelena told them all Calina was living with him - which they found even cooler.

She was the first of them to try to make a life for herself. The first to get a job. The first to get her own apartment.

And the first to live with a man.

They were all fascinated.

And it completely unnerved Calina. It was as if they were all looking to her to set an example. To show them the way. To show them it was possible to leave the life of a Widow behind. It was a big responsibility - with a hell of a lot of pressure attached.

And she felt like she was failing.

“Yeah,” Sofia chimed in. She was another Widow from Calina’s cohort, but they’d never spoken much growing up. Sofia came across as very…intense. “What happened between you two?

Calina looked around the room. The Widows were camped out in the main living space as they waited to hear back from Melina. The older Widow had developed her own version of a truth serum and they were going to try it out on the man downstairs. But she needed to calibrate the dosage first - apparently there was a fine line between getting answers and causing a cardiac arrest.

The mission was going smoothly so far. Calina had ridden her motorcycle through the night and had arrived at the Widow’s temporary operational base outside Washington just before sunrise. She’d managed to grab five hours of - restless - sleep on one of the empty cots, then she’d joined the other Widows for the strategy session.

That night, she’d suited up, and joined the team to infiltrate Volkov’s residence.

And it had been easy as hell. Almost too easy.

Volkov was either supremely arrogant or extremely stupid, because he was living alone, with no bodyguards or security personnel. Which meant the eight-strong Widow strike team that extracted him seemed like massive overkill.

They’d transported him blindfolded and sedated to the mansion in South Carolina, and now he was tied up in a fortified room in the basement, guarded by Anya and another Widow named Alyona. The rest of them were taking a break while they waited for the next step in the plan.

They made a strange sight, lounging around the cream-coloured mansion in their Black Widow suits. Combat boots were resting on the antique oak coffee table in the centre of the room, and various guns and weapons were stowed on the mantle over the ornate fireplace, battling for space with chintzy knicknacks and floral-scented candles.

It was a stark juxtaposition - one the other Widows didn’t seem to find as jarring as Calina did. But she’d had the benefit of living in the ‘real’ world for the past few months, where people didn’t dress in black neoprene jumpsuits while relaxing around the house.

She looked down at her own jumpsuit, and grimaced. She’d reverted right back to the Widow’s mindset the moment she’d left New York. She even had her hair in braids.

A lifetime of habit was hard to break.

“Calina?” Inessa said, interrupting her thoughts. “Do you not want to talk about it?”

Inessa was a relatively shy girl, and so petite and slender. She must have had skills - there was no way she’d have gotten through the Red Room otherwise - but she always looked so fragile and delicate to Calina. She brought out all of Calina’s protective instincts.

And, unfortunately, Calina could never resist indulging her questions. Maybe that was Inessa’s hidden skill.

“There’s not much to tell,” Calina replied, trying to downplay the hurt and humiliation she was feeling. “I misunderstood what was between us, that’s all.”

It was the same line she’d given Yelena and Anya when they’d met her in Washington yesterday. They’d accepted it with a nod, but Inessa wasn't put off so easily. “What do you mean?”

“I…,” Calina was spared from answering when Yelena’s phone pinged and everyone sprang back into action-mode.

“It’s from Melina.” Yelena confirmed, reading the message. “Sofia and Kira, you take this and start prepping the drug, we’ll follow you down.” She handed them her phone, and they took off running for the basement. The rest of the team filtered out of the room, leaving Calina alone with Yelena and Katya.

Yelena marched ahead, intent on starting the interrogation, but Katya stopped Calina with a gentle hand on her arm. “I know there something more going on between you and Matt than a mere misunderstanding,” Katya said softly. “You can talk to me if you want.”

She took Calina’s hand and gave it a supportive squeeze. The move took Calina by surprise - the Widows weren’t demonstrative people and usually only touched each other during sparring sessions. But she was learning that - away from the Red Room, and out from under the control of the serum - Katya was a very caring and empathetic person. The simple, kind touch made her feel like they were becoming true friends.

And it made her want to open up. She just wasn’t sure where to start. “I…we…,” she faltered.

“What is it? What happened?”

“I…I fell in love,” she whispered. “And he didn’t. He barely even saw me as a friend.” Saying the words aloud hurt. They wrenched something deep in her chest, and caused tears to gather at the back of her eyes.

“Oh, Calina. Are you sure?”

She let out a bitter laugh. “That I love him? Yes, unfortunately.”

“No, I meant that he doesn’t love you back. We saw the two of you together, remember? It was clear that he cared about you very much.”

“No offence, but what do you know about reading other people’s feelings? What do any of us know? We never grew up seeing love and care and affection. We don’t know what it looks like. I know what it feels like, but I don’t know what it looks like. And I made the mistake with Matt of misinterpreting his basic sense of compassion and responsibility for something much more. I was a fool, Katya.”

“Don’t say that.”

Calina pulled away from the other Widow. “I know you guys want me to trail-blaze some path for you all, but I’m floundering out there. It’s so hard. Nothing in our training prepared us for it. I can play a role and pretend to be someone else in my sleep, but I have no idea how to be me. I have no idea how to deal with all these…feelings…I keep having.”

Katya frowned. “I’m so sorry. We all just assumed you were happy out there. That you were thriving away from all…this.”

“I was happy. For a while.” She crossed her arms over her chest and kicked at the ground. “You know that proverb, ‘After a storm comes fair weather; after sorrow comes joy’? I think it should be the other way around, ‘After joy comes sorrow’.”

“I’m sorry,” Katya said again. She shrugged, and gave Calina a sad smile. “I don’t know what else to say.”

“That’s okay. Thanks for listening.”

“That’s what sisters are for.” Katya hooked an arm through Calina’s and the two of them started walking towards the basement. After a few moments of silence, Katya spoke again. “What is it like?” she asked shyly.

“What?”

“Being in love?”

Calina thought back to that moment in the gym - the moment of realisation, before she’d leaned towards Matt and ruined everything - when her feelings had finally crystallised. Then she tried to put it into words.. “It’s…its like that sensation you get when you jump out of an airplane - that weightless, exhilarating, heart-pumping thrill. You feel like you’re on top of the world and can do anything. But when its unrequited love, its like your parachute never opened and you collided with the ground at a million miles an hour.”

“Oh,” Katya said quietly. “So it’s wonderful, but it also kind of sucks.”

“Yeah. It really, really sucks.”

———

Never had a man suited his name better than Maxim Volkov.

In English, it translated to Great Wolf, and he embodied that moniker completely. He was a big man, with a wild, predatory look to his eyes. Even strapped to a chair, with several guns trained on him, he looked calm and in control as he sized up the Widows surrounding him.

He barely spared a glance as Sofia prepped his arm and administered the truth serum. She was the medic of the group - trained from a young age in combat surgery to assist in missions. She had a terrible bed-side manner, but a steady pair of hands and an encyclopaedic knowledge of medicine.

“How long until it takes affect?” Yelena asked. She was sitting cross-legged on the counter that ran along the wall directly in front of Volkov. The basement had originally been used as a laundry room, but the Widows had removed all the washers and dryers, and embedded hooks for restraints in the ceiling and the tiled floor. It looked exactly like what it was - an interrogation chamber.

No, a torture chamber.

Because that’s what they were about to do - torture this man. Not using violence, but by cracking open his mind against his will. And no one knew how torturous that was than the Widows in this room.

Yelena relished the idea - she was dying to turn the tables on the men of the Red Room - but Calina felt uncomfortable.

She kept wondering what Matt would think of all this.

She knew he wasn’t averse to using brutal tactics to get answers - she’d seen him beat people for information on the streets. But there was something…honest about that method. This felt too underhanded. Too close to the Red Room tactics.

And she wanted to be better than that.

But at heart, she was a pragmatist, and she knew that taking the high road had never gotten anyone, anywhere. The Widows needed answers. They needed to know how much of a threat they faced - their survival depended on it - and this was the best method available to them. A member of the Red Room would be able to withstand threats of violence and physical pain. But no one could withstand this serum - at least, according to its creator.

“Melina said it would be fairly instantaneous,” Sofia answered.

“Melina Vostokoff?" Volkov asked, his Russian accent thick with distain. "That traitorous bitch? I used to jerk off when I thought about her back in the day - she filled out her suit like no other Widow. Now I just want to put a bullet through her conniving brain.”

The Widows looked at each other, surprised by the candid revelation.

“I guess its working,” Katya remarked.

“Good,” Yelena said. “Let’s see what he knows.”

It turned out, he knew a lot. And none of it was good.

“How many Red Room personnel are still alive?” Yelena asked at one point.

Volkov smiled. “Enough.”

“Be more specific,” Yelena bit out.

“Dreykov had a secret faction of Red Room operatives that worked just for him - off the books and away from the prying eyes of the Kremlin. They survived your little purge after Dreykov’s fall because you had no idea they existed - very few did.”

“But you did.”

“Yes. I’ve always been privy to Dreykov’s secrets. He treated me like a younger brother. And now that he’s gone, I intend to continue the family business.”

“But you were just a handler. You weren’t upper management.”

“Just a handler? Or a man of many talents who went where Dreykov needed, and did what needed to be done?”

“So what was the plan in South Korea? Why was that mission important enough to need your oversight?”

“The Japanese Ambassador was embezzling billions of won from the South Koreans. Dreykov wanted me to steal it from him. After the Red Room fell, I continued the mission, in an attempt to get the money for myself and my faction.” He leered at Katya as he continued answering Yelena's question. “But you stole my little Widow from me, and I had to come up with a Plan B.”

“You had to come up with the plan? So you’re the man in charge of this new faction?”

“Yes. Congratulation, ladies. You won the jackpot.” He leaned back in his chair and stretched his legs out as far as his restraints would allow. He looked like he was relaxing in front of the television after a hard day at work, and it started to give Calina a bad feeling. He was too at ease. He didn’t seem to care that he was revealing all this information. He didn’t seem bothered by their questions or the fact that he was answering them against his will. She wondered if there was a sedative effect to the truth serum…but even before it had been administered, he’d been eerily calm.

What did he know that made him so confident?

Yelena continued with her questioning. If she was unnerved by Volkov’s manner, she didn’t show it. “Did that ‘Plan B’ have something to do with what happened to Calina?”

Volkov sighed. “No. Aminev went rogue with that. He was nothing but a common thief. He stole some serum and some tech and decided to go it alone. He betrayed the ideology.”

“How did Aminev find her?”

Volkov’s smile turned feral. “We never lost her. We never lost any of you.”

Calina’s bad feeling exploded into outright panic. And she could feel it rippling through the other Widows in the room.

Even Yelena sounded shaken. “What do you mean?”

“Did you think those chips you dug out of your thighs was our only way of tracking you?” He shook his head, as if disappointed. “You little fools. You’ve been on the grid this entire time. You only had the illusion of freedom. And once we finish manufacturing enough serum to get you all back under control, we’re going to round you up and shatter that illusion.”

He shrugged, and spread his hands. “Or maybe it’ll happen sooner. They’ll be coming for me, you know. Once I miss my check in, the rest of my team will figure out what happened. Then they’ll come for me. And all they’ll have to do is follow the little dots on their screens…all the way to the South Carolina coast.”

———

CHAPTER 10

These next couple of chapters are for all of you who enjoy the ‘Unofficial Black Widow Sequel’ aspect of this fic...

@hollandorks @yanna-banana @stilldreaming666 @tearoseart-blog @chezagnes @freckledbabyyy @acharliecoxedfan

#Daredevil #daredevil fic #daredevil fanfic #daredevil fanfiction #marvel's daredevil #daredevil x original female character #matt murdock fanfic #Matt Murdock #matt murdock x oc #tabula rasa #black widow

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astralisbelle · 1 year

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Silk For Armor 1 - The Crime Lord and the Dancer

Silk For Armor Masterlist tags: dancer!reader, singer!reader, reader has backstory, s3 not canon, diverges around TBOBF, half fix-it fic, half super self-indulgence, original locations and lore, eventual reveal of reader backstory, angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, eventual smut

chapter summary: In search of a replacement for his beloved ship, the Mandalorian ends up on an Outer Rim planet. WARNINGS: language, sex work, drug mentions

note: Hi y'all! I'm having a teeny bit of Writer's Block for Snow White atm so I thought I'd upload the first chapter of this one. I hope to get back to the other one soon, but in the meantime, please enjoy the first installment of this fic!

Once again, Din Djarin finds himself all alone in the galaxy.

Then you are no longer a Mandalorian.

He replays the words in his head over and over, unable to protect himself from the sting against his chest and head. What a fool he was for thinking that he could come back and pretend that nothing happened, that he wasn’t automatically an apostate for removing his helmet.

But he did it for Grogu. He did it for his foundling, for the one most precious to him in the entire galaxy, and in that, he cannot say he regrets it.

As he stumbles away from the covert, underneath the darkness of the night sky, he hears a beep from his belt signaling an incoming transmission. Din hesitates in answering, unsure if he is in the right head-space for anything of the sort, but he decides that he could use the distraction; it beats spiraling into despair when he thinks too hard about what he wants to do next. He retrieves the device from his belt and holds it in his palm, clicking a button. From the small screen, a hologram of Peli sits on his hand, her hands on her hips and a grin on her face.

“Hey, Mando!” she calls, waving. “I’m so glad you picked up! Boy, I’ve got great news for you.”

He doubts it. “What is it?”

“Remember how you asked me about finding you a replacement for the Razor Crest? Well, I found one!”

“You did?” This could be good — finding a new ship might just be the perfect distraction right now. If he dwells on the looming realization of his solitude, he might descend down the wrong path. Yes, this can work. “Should I come to Tatooine?”

“No, no.” Peli waves her hand. “No need. I just received word from a contact on the planet Tebin Ramm.” Din’s fist clenches. Tebin Ramm is a wretched hive that made the old Nevarro seem like Coruscant. “Told me his boss-man would be willing to negotiate with you on a fair price for a Razor Crest.”

“I doubt I’d get anywhere near a fair price on Tebin Ramm. They’re more likely to rob me than speak to me.”

“Yeah, I knew you’d say that. Well, that’s the price of a Razor Crest.” She points back with her thumb. “Of course, if you just need a ship, I do have something right here that I can fix up for you. She’ll make any dusty old Razor Crest look like a bantha cart!”

Din sighs, taking a moment to think. “You trust this contact?”

“Never steered me wrong in the past. But hey, I get it, no one likes to go to Tebin Ramm. Which is why, if you want a guaranteed deal, I can fix that baby I’ve got–”

“I’ll go meet this contact.” Peli slumps over. “Where can I find them?”

“Really? That didn’t work? Pssh.” She rolls her eyes. “You and your Razor Crest. Okay, fine, I’ll send you the information and let him know you’re on your way.”

“Thanks.” The transmission ends and he pockets his device, standing in place to think. Tebin Ramm is the last place he wants to go, but since he doesn’t have to worry about escorting anyone else, he should be fine. As long as he keeps to himself and spends the least amount of time there as possible, he can walk — or fly, rather — away from this with a Razor Crest.

Finding passage to Tebin Ramm is something of a challenge for him. No commercial flights dare venture close to that section of the Outer Rim, meaning he has to bargain with some smugglers to let him hitch a ride back to their base there.

It is a lawless planet if he’s ever seen one, and he has seen plenty. Nearly every hunter in the guild refuses to take jobs in Tebin Ramm and the ones that do are rarely ever seen again. All he knows is that the planet is a hive for gangsters and criminals, with different dons and lords running their sectors how they please. As soon as he steps off the smugglers’ ship, a chill runs up his spine.

The streets are dimly lit only by the gaudy neon signs of the tall buildings and a sort of fog permeates throughout the area. Rough-looking people of all races and genders walk around with blasters openly placed on their hips. They yell at each other from across the street, harass others that pass them by, and overall cause ruckus. He sees people spilling drinks from bottles underneath the hazy signs. Bracing himself and adopting his usual intimidating walk, the Mandalorian ventures forth into the streets.

He gets looks and stares, which is to be expected. Many of the thugs he passes give him a once-over, as if sizing up how many credits they can swim in if they took his beskar. Others turn alluring eyes towards him, one woman even licking her bottom lip in plain view. Just keep going, he tells himself. Unfortunately, he knows it’s about to get worse. Peli’s information tells him he has to turn the corner and step into the sleazy alleys of a red-light district. Women leaning against the buildings instantly turn their attention towards him, bending over to show off their cleavages, pulling up their dresses to tempt him with their thighs. They call him, beg him, reach for him but never make contact. On the balconies of the buildings he walks in between, even more half-naked women dance and beckon the patrons on the street.

In one instance, he can clearly see one of them pressing her hands against the window while a customer uses her from the back while she keeps her lips firmly shut. Din shivers, keeping his face forward. Now, he almost wishes that there is no Razor Crest.

Tucked away in the red-light district is a small theater, marked only by the neon. From the outside, it doesn’t seem impressive, but Din clocks the two bouncers at the front that suggest otherwise. Din approaches them, keeping his hands clear.

“I’m here to see Kaslur Vandor.”

The two bouncers exchange glances before they nod and step aside, granting him entrance. Din braces himself once more and crosses the threshold. The theater isn’t as grand as some of the other ones he knows are in this place, having only a few round tables around the stage. It’s more intimate that way, he supposes. One of the bouncers points him towards the table right at the end of the stage’s catwalk, the one surrounded by thugs with a very prominent man sitting at its center. A thin layer of sweat forms on Din’s brow — Peli’s contact was a big shot? He supposes it has to make sense, considering who is likely to have Razor Crests in this day and age. Steeling himself, he saunters over. Immediately, every man at that table stands up and forms a wall between him and Kaslur, staring him down.

Without looking at Din, the large man still sitting waves his hand, his fat fingers sporting multiple rings. “Let him sit.” The man closest to Din shoves him in a rickety chair next to Kaslur, who ignores him for now in favor of scooping clams and sucking on their meat. “So, you’re the Mandalorian? I gotta say, it takes a lot of balls to walk in here wearing as much beskar as you do.”

Din lets silence fill the air for a few uncomfortable seconds. “I hear you have a Razor Crest.”

Kaslur laughs. “Business already?” He turns to Din, letting him get a good look at his greasy over-comb and scarred face. “You need to slow down, Mando. The show’s about to start.”

“I’m not interested.”

“Ohoho.” Kaslur’s grin is anything but welcoming. “You don’t gotta be. But I’m warning you: you keep quiet during her performance.” He points a dinner knife towards him. “If you talk to me or even dare to clear your throat, you’ll leave here without one, got it?”

Din glares at him, his eye twitching but thankfully masked by the helmet. “...Got it.” The lights dim and the spotlight shines against the red curtains. Immediately, the rest of the audience, including Kaslur, applaud until the sounds of a single drum quiets them down. Din crosses his arms and expects some ill-dressed girl to come out and disrobe even more… not his idea of a great performance.

The curtain parts and the first thing he sees is a foot coming forward. A woman steps forward in time with the drum, golden jewelry adorning her ankles and wrists. Her legs peek through a slit-skirt with coins around her hips that jingle with each step. The small top that wraps around her bosom exposes her midriff. And finally, her face is covered with a veil, showing only her piercing, hypnotic eyes.

She lifts her hands and assumes a dancing position, feet pointed, wrists crossed. Then, when an exotic sounding horn and more percussion begin, she sings. Din’s eyes widen when he hears her voice, so pure and strong. The woman is mystifying as she dances, twirling around and removing pieces of scarf and tulle from her skirt. She uses them in her routine, her moves sensual, but not raunchy. His vision tunnels as he focuses on her, hearing her beautiful voice, watching her take off pieces until her legs are completely bare. Strutting down the catwalk, she baits the men that sit near her feet, blowing kisses and swiping herself away from their reaching hands. When she reaches the end where they sit, she falls to her knees.

Din stares right in her eyes as she focuses entirely on Kaslur, singing right to him. She reaches for him, cupping his cheek as a giddy and hungry look overtakes him. It’s in this moment that she briefly breaks eye contact with Kaslur and her striking eyes meet the dark T of the Mandalorian’s visor.

And time stands still. He cannot see her mouth, but her eye makeup betrays how wide they go. She stares for a moment as she holds her note, and Din cannot help but keep her gaze.

Then it ends. She turns back to Kaslur and slides back, her touch fleeting. Standing back up, she twirls again during the music’s swelling finale. As the horns and drums play together, she falls to her knees again with a dramatic flourish, the song ending with a large strike from the instruments. The theater is dead quiet for just a second before it erupts into a standing ovation. The men whistle and rave, pounding their tables and spilling their drinks.

She elegantly stands back up and turns on her heel to walk back down towards the curtain. Before she disappears behind it, she glances over her shoulder and Din swears she looks right at him. As soon as she is gone Kaslur sits back down with a thud and chuckles.

“Isn’t she a beauty?” he asks Din. “That’s my girl.”

“Your…?” Normally, Din doesn’t give a womp rat’s ass about anyone personal relationships, but something about this one strikes him as odd. Though he could not see her face, he knows that she has to be beautiful, especially from her eyes. A singer and dancer as talented as she is somehow with this mobster? It would make sense if she were a common escort or dancer, but she is neither of those things.

“That’s right. So don’t go making googly-eyes at her, got it?”

“I wasn’t planning to,” he says. “Now, about the Razor Crest.”

“Alright, alright.” Kaslur sighs. “Yeah, I’ve got a Razor Crest.”

“When can I see it?”

“You can see it when you’ve paid up.” Din tilts his head in a way that shows his disapproval. “Trust me, Mando. I wouldn’t drag you to this shithole if it wasn’t legit. Besides, scamming is a poor con man’s job.” He leans back in his chair.

“So… credits?”

“Didn’t you hear me? I’m not a poor man. While I would appreciate your credits, you’ve got something more valuable.” Din’s ready to hear him ask for the beskar. “You’re a Mandalorian. I wouldn’t need five fucking bodyguards if I had a Mandalorian.”

“...You want me to work for you?”

Kaslur waves his hand. “I want you to do one job for me. One measly little job and the Razor Crest is yours.”

Din knows better than anyone that one measly little job is never as temporary as it seems. One job lead him to Grogu. One job upended his life and catapulted it into a completely different trajectory. But, to get a Razor Crest for doing one errand is a bargain; he knows it and Kaslur knows it too. “What’s the job?”

“Need you to find a guy for me.” Kaslur takes out a puck and slides it over. “You can bring him in dead or alive, doesn’t matter to me. What does matter is this.” He leans in. “He stole something from me. A precious necklace made of the finest jewels money can buy.”

“A… necklace?”

“I know.” Kaslur puts a hand over his heart. “I’m a sentimental guy. What can I say?” Somehow, Din doubts that. “That little weasel has it. Or, maybe he sold it already. Bring me him and the necklace and the Razor Crest is all yours.”

The Mandalorian taps his finger on the table, weighing the options in his head. Guy would be easy to find. Necklace less so. If the guy was smart, he would have separated it and sold the jewels, so Din has to pray that he’s stupid.

Finally, he nods and takes the puck. “Deal.”

Din leaves the theater, his footsteps slower and his eyes heavy. He needs to find someplace to rest for the night… that isn’t one of these regular hotels. In this planet, he may be better off sleeping in his armor wherever he chooses to stay. He keeps his eyes forward, not inviting any of the escorts on the boulevard to call him.

Just before he turns the corner, a woman’s voice yanks his attention. “Congratulations!” A Twi’lek woman with purple skin jumps in front of him. “You’ve won a free night with one of our most popular girls. C’mon!” She pulls on his hand, but he doesn’t move, his feet planted firmly in the ground.

“Not interested,” he says, pulling his hand back. When he takes a step forward, she blocks him again.

“Uh. Please, sir? W-We’d really appreciate it—”

“No thank you.”

Her jubilant expression falls into one of worry. “Please, wait.” Her voice drops low. “Sir, she really, really needs to talk to you. And this is the only way.”

“Who does?”

“I…” She glances around. “I can’t say it here. He has eyes everywhere.” The Twi’lek pleads with her eyes. After dropping the act, Din has a hard time saying no to her. Something is strange and though he knows that he should move on and focus on his job, he caves.

“Fine,” he sighs. “This better be just a conversation.”

Instantly, the Twi’lek smiles. “Of course.” When she pulls his hand again, her voice is louder. “Oooh, we’ve got ourselves a lucky, lucky man!” Stars, he hopes that this is just a cover. If it’s not, then he’s leaving immediately.

She leads him into a den with lighting even worse than the theater. People around him wore exotic clothes, some bound in leather, other hidden behind feathered masks. The smell of drugs wafts through the air, accompanied by light chatter in the dark corners. They stare at him as the Twi’lek weaves him through the crowd towards the back where there are various rooms. Din hears screams and moans, he hears whips and slaps. What the hell has he gotten himself into?

He follows her up a few flights of stairs that are considerably quieter. Some of the doors are open, showing parlor rooms where patrons and escorts talk and flirt. Finally, in the back, she gestures for him to enter. Din gives her a lengthy pause before he steels himself and opens the door.

The room is small, having only a plush, purple love seat and a decorative chandelier above. There is someone there: a woman, but she isn’t dressed in the way he would expect the women here to dress. She wears a cloak over her shoulders and plain clothes of earthy tones underneath it, her hair tied back. The door closes behind him.

“You came!” she says. “Oh, thank the Stars. Please, sit.”

“I’ll stand.”

“O...kay.” She nods, taking a step back.

“Who are you?”

“Who… oh, you don’t recognize me?” She smiles at him. “We… well, we didn’t meet, but you saw me dance earlier.” Din’s brows lift. This was the dancer? When he looks further into her eyes, he recognizes them now without the makeup. He sees the rest of her face and his chest tightens. What a transformation between the sensual dancer — and amazing singer — he witnessed earlier and the humble woman that stands before him. She bows her head and tells him her name, just her given one. “I apologize for the choice of venue, but I had little options.” She crosses her arms and turns her head. “Kaslur has eyes and ears nearly everywhere.”

Din steps back towards the wall, leaning against it with one shoulder. “You don’t want to be seen talking to me?”

“He’s rather… possessive, let’s say.”

“Sounds like you need a new boyfriend.”

The dancer laughs. “Boyfriend? Is that what he told you?” She sighs. “Trust me when I say that I would rather have my throat slit than even kiss that man.” Her brows furrow together in disgust. “Why are you here on this awful planet, Mandalorian?”

He crosses his arms. “I could ask the same thing of you.”

She chuckles and takes a seat on the couch. “You could. But unfortunately, we only have so much time.”

Din purses his lips. “I’m going to do a job for Kaslur. In exchange, he’s going to give me the Razor Crest.”

“The Razor Crest? Oh, that old thing. I haven’t the faintest clue why you’d want it, but to his their own.” To Din, it’s extraordinary that her voice is melodic, even as she talks. At least he can confirm that there is a ship to begin with. “But in any case, that’s good. Great, even.” She stands and takes a step towards him. “And then I assume that you’d be planning to leave, correct?”

“I would.” Where is this going?

She stops in front of him, a hopeful glimmer in her eyes. Biting on her bottom lip, she holds her hands and twiddles her fingers. “If that’s the case, then I… I must ask you of something. When you get the Razor Crest...” She drops her hands on his arms and he flinches, pushing himself off the wall. “Please.” The desperation from her voice gives him pause. The dancer squeezes his forearms and locks in on the darkness of his visor, as if she can see past the black and right into his dark eyes. “Kidnap me.”

#the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x reader #din djarin #the mandalorian fanfic #work: silk for armor

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nerdalmighty · 1 month

Note

Make me choose between two things:

Ok if you insist. 😈

Only one of these can exist, which do you choose? Good Omens season 2 or Baldur's Gate 3?

-anntickwittee

What an absolutely vile question (affectionate).

To be honest? I know I'm currently obsessed with BG3 so I'm probably biased, but I think I'd rather keep BG3 over GO2. AND I HATE SAYING THAT!!!

My reason being: We were all super content with GO S1. It followed the book pretty closely and added elements that I think made it even more enjoyable than the book (In my opinion! I know it's beloved in its book form and I love it too, I just love how the show expanded on things). I truly didn't know what to expect from S2 because S1 was so well self contained and that's all fans thought we were ever going to get. I am THRILLED we got an S2. It's gorgeous and perfect and I'm beyond excited for S3 (which starts filming in January!!!!)

With BG3, it's really gotten me out of my comfort zone in terms of gaming and storytelling. In the past, I steered clear of big open world games because I was way too overwhelmed and prefer straightforward paths in games like Pokemon and Deltarune (I know there are multiple endings and ways to play, but for the most part there's an order in which to do things). With BG3, there are truly so many options that each gaming experience can feel brand new and pan out incredibly differently from a previous game. I love that there's replayability and that I'll be able to keep replaying it for years to come.

It's also helped push me in terms of playing and understanding dnd. I've been playing for a little over a year now and watching actual plays for longer, but I understand even more now having played this game. There's always a little feeling of excitement when the DM or people I'm watching play mention something that I learned because I've played BG3.

Additionally, something I've been struggling with recently is feeling motivated to be creative. I love my job and the people I work with, but there can be a monotony that creeps in since I work from home and have a fairly regimented schedule (animation production is NO JOKE! And it RULES!). Baldur's Gate has consistently inspired me to create (mainly write, which is what I've always wanted to do) and I'm so grateful for that after feeling lost for a long time.

Granted, I'm still feeling lost and unsure of my abilities, but getting to practice storytelling with characters I love and settings and elements I find interesting is really amazing. Yes, Good Omens 2 could have inspired something like this in me, but for whatever reason, it was BG3 that did. I read (and continue to read) a good amount of GO fics, but I was never inspired enough to create my own (though it DID inspire me to make some fun gifsets which I loved making). With BG3, not only have other fics inspired me, but there are moments between cutscenes and story beats that I've wanted to write and expand on since the game is so huge and the writers and developers could only expand on so much themselves. Ultimately, I want to be able to create those fantastical worlds and lovable characters and I'm really thankful BG3 reminded me of that.

Do I have any big ideas currently? No. But the intent is there and that's huge! So I'll keep persisting :)

POINT IS: I love both pieces of media and they're both deeply special to me, but since BG3 has helped reawaken a part of myself that's been snoozing for a long time, I'll pick that FOR NOW.

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callmelinamfsnow · 2 years

Text

The Beginning of The Date

Ch. 1: “How Old Are You?" Ch. 2: Four Days Later

Warnings: None except Five being a cutie and both of them smiling like idiots. There’s not really any mentions of S3 spoilers in this specific chapter

I really didn’t want this to go up on my birthday but wtv

Word Count; 1,500+ Five Hargreeves x Reader

Summary: It’s finally time for your date with Five, and you’re both nervous to say the least.

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10:54 A.M

Five had shown up early, of course, since he didn’t know what else to do with himself. He was excited and, obviously, never got to go on dates with girls. It also didn’t help that he really liked this one. He doesn’t know how talking to you these past days has got him so head over heels for you but he’s enjoying it.

The butterflies. The staring at pictures of you. The replaying of your voice memos. It was basically what he was using to get through the craziness that had been surrounding him in the past month. Especially with how genuinely concerned and caring you seemed. Before he knew it you slipped into his subconscious and started all those sweet dreams he hated waking up from. All of them ranged from you running your fingers through his hair while encouraging him that he’d figure everything out soon enough to simply just kissing and holding you in his lap.

The soft sound of shoes approaching interrupted his thoughts, but finally this time it was you. Your eyes nervously scan the ground and your surroundings before meeting his’. A smile tugged at his lips and soon a matching one graced yours.

“Hi”

“Hello. You look” he paused as he took you in again, “breathtaking”. “Thank you” you chuckled and did the same, “you don’t look too bad yourself”. “Ready to go in?” He asked and moved to open the door for you when you nodded. You let out a small thank you as you walked past him. “Have you ever been here before?” You asked him as you two got in line. “No I haven’t. It looks nice though. Peaceful.” He hummed as he looked the place over.

There was a bit of a line right now but most people seemed to just be ordering to go. The two employees behind the counter working in tangent to get everyone’s food ready and out. “So how did you find this place?” Five asked after he scanned the place. “I found it a few months ago when I was walking around the city. It didn’t look that nice from outside because that thing there used to be broken” you explained and pointed at the front, “I had actually came to use the restroom and when I walked in I was very surprised”.

When it came time for you to order you had Five go first while you fully decided what to get. However, Five being the gentleman that he is, was of course going to pay for you. “No, Five you don’t have to” you objected, promptly being interrupted by Five. “I’m not giving you an option. Now go ahead and order whatever you want” he smiled and nodded his head at the cashier. You returned the smile, shaking your head before telling the cashier your order and letting Five pay. “Thank you” you hummed as you two waited for the first part of your order and scouted out somewhere to sit. “Well I did owe you from the Diner, but anytime” he replied with a shrug.

You took your items and headed to a secluded corner booth by a window you two settled on. “This corner feels so cozy and nice. The decoration is cute in here too” you smiled as you looked around some more. “Yeah. It sure is pretty here” Five replied but never took his eyes off of you. In Five’s opinion, you probably make every place you walk into 10x more beautiful.

You managed to catch him staring at you and can’t help but blush and avert your eyes. They soon returned to inspect Five and the clothes he wore. He had on a simple black button-up shirt tucked into his khakis and simple pair of dress shoes but damn he looked good. “You look nice” you smiled at him and meet his eyes. Now it was his turn to blush. “Thank you” he hummed and opened his mouth to say more, but was cut off by the barista calling your names for the order.

“Here, I’ll get it.” Five said before you could even offer. “You don’t need help?” You asked him as he pulled himself out from the booth. “I think I’ll be fine dear” he chuckled and walked off to get your drinks.

‘Dear’

There’s that little pet name again, accompanied by the butterflies. It was such a simple name. A common word you use to start letters. So why did it make you want to either explode or grab and kiss him until you were passed out from the lack of oxygen? Fuck, you wanted to kiss him. You wanted to do a lot more than kiss him- especially with how he talks and looks at you- but you’d gladly settle for kissing. You’d wondered if he’d been thinking about you as much as you had about him.

Was he also waking up from dreams about them that left him feeling warm and fuzzy? Did he smile and roll over immediately after, trying to chase the sweet vision he was having? The way he’d been acting these past days would make you think yes, but that doesn’t always mean anything. You’d been trying not to let those negative thoughts start to plague your mind, but it was hard not to spiral sometimes.

Luckily, Five returned.

“Everything alright?” He asked as he sat down, noticing how tense you had gotten. “Yeah, just overthinking about some stuff” you shrugged and drank some of your drink. “But now that you’re back you can help me forget about it” you added and gave him a reassuring smile. He chuckled before taking a sip of his coffee, and to his surprise, it was above decent. Maybe it was the stress and mania of the last weeks that had worn him down, but this shit. This shit was low-key hitting.

“Damn, is it good?” You teased when you noticed him taking longer and longer sips. The satisfied look on his face replaced by one of amusement and mock offense at your words. “What? It’s the closest thing to decent coffee I’ve had in a while” he defended and took another long sip, causing you to let out a quick “ha” followed by quiet giggles. Five wish he could’ve saved this moment somehow. He wanted to replay it over and over again whenever he wanted. To get to bask in your laugh and smile and the fact that he’s the reason behind it. Hell, he wanted that to be the last thing he heard as the lights go out of his eyes.

“I’m sorry I had to” youfinish up your laughs and clear your throat, your eyes finally meeting Five’s again. “ t’s fine” was all he replied, continuing to admire you. “Glad you like the coffee” you hummed, unable to resist letting out another grin. “Me too. Hard to find anything above halfway decent” he sighed, finally placing his cup down. “It’s just black coffee. How different can it be?” You asked with furrowed brows, causing Five's to shoot up in genuine shock. “What did you just- of course, there’s a difference!” He snaps playfully.

A moment of panic hit him after the words left his mouth, afraid that he still might’ve been too harsh. Again, he didn’t exactly have any experience with dates or girls. Your amused chuckle and return of a playful eye roll quickly got rid of any negative feelings, replacing them with… joy? excitement? lov-? “Sorry I’m no black coffee sommelier” you sassed back and took a drink of yours, “I honestly don’t even drink black coffee unless it’s filled with sugar”. Now it was Five’s turn to laugh. Something he hasn’t been able to genuinely do in so long.

“No wonder you got that” he nodded toward your drink and you shrugged shamelessly, “I like what I like”. “Makes sense” Five smiled softly, causing you to furrow your brows in confusion. “What do you mean?” You asked, unsure if you should feel offended yet. “Well, considering how our first encounter went, it’s no surprise that your taste preference matches your personality,'' he said, making himself comfortable in his chair. You, of course, let out yet another wide grin at his words before following his lead and making yourself comfortable. “I guess you’re right” you replied and took a long sip of your drink, nervously scanning the room to avoid his stare.

A beat of silence passed while you did so, Five taking the opportunity to shamelessly look at you more. “Do you have a favorite or preferred coffee?” You finally asked when you turned to look back at him. “I, uh,” he started, needing to take a moment to snap back to reality. “No. No, I don’t think I do, haven’t quite found one yet at least” he finished, smiling softly when you caught him looking at you.

“Sounds like you’re just picky or don’t actually like black coffee” you teased. “I take offense to that” he joked and this time you both laughed together. “Well, soooo sorry to offend you” you shrugged nonchalantly, keeping the playful tone you’ve both set.

“Have you tried cold brew, yet? I have a strong feeling you’d like it”

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Next Chapter Release: TBD

A/N: My Borderline has been acting up a lot and my family/home life has also been shit which is why it’s taken me so long to update. I’ve also felt very burned out and I kind of fell off of The Umbrella Academy. [ I stay thirsting over Aidan though. I’m ngl ] I’m still trying my best to write, but I also don’t want to half ass anything/I don’t think I’d be able to get myself to post something that I’m not really proud of. (Ryan Bergara voice): That being said I didn’t want to keep hoarding all of this, and I also didn’t want to feel bad about not posting on my birthday, so I last minute edited and formatted it to post the fucking day before (Ryan Bergara voice again): because I have adhd and had to use all of my energy to survive life and my family. (Any questions… big boyz?)