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misspearly1 · 1 year

Text

Ner Cyar'ika Baar'ur

Secret Santa Event by @pedrostories

My giftee: @taro-666

Pairing: Din D'jarin x F!Medic!Reader (use of Y/N).

Summary: Working for the Mandalorian as his personal medic, it has become apart of the daily routine to battle against people who threaten his safety, or yours. You're apart of the chaos that comes with the bounty hunting life, but how does one particular quarry change everything between you and Din D'jarin?

WC: 8k

Warnings: 18+ Content. Minors DNI. Fic is set in season one, between episode one to three. Slight changes in the storyline from the TV show. Cursing. Use of Mando'a (with translations). Friends to Lovers. Mutual Pining. Violence and Injury. Angst with a happy ending. Smut. Mentions of wet dreams. Unprotected PIV. Praise kink. Fluff.

AN: Taro! Omg, I've been so excited to share this story with you and to finally come off anon. Hey friend! 👋 I hope you enjoy the read, my love ❤️.

@supernaturalgirl20 Thank you so much for the beta, beautiful! You're a star 🥰.

There aren’t a lot of things that surprise you these days as a trained medic; you’ve been through a lot and have seen nearly twice as much. Having said that, it’s almost as if you’ve grown used to the mayhem that comes with treating the sick and the wounded because of your line of work.

For instance, it doesn’t surprise you anymore when your boss requires your medical assistance considering he is actually in need of your assistance quite often, and it’s the very reason he hired you in the first place.

The Mandalorian is your boss, or Mando as he is known to some, and his involvement in the bounty hunting business was never in your interest at first - your a healer, not a fighter - but where there is a fight, there is almost always a need for someone to be patched up afterwards.

There’s never a dull moment working with the Mandalorian, his daily life is mayhem, more so in the last several weeks since his workload has been busier than usual and seeing that you’ve already adapted to the chaos around treating the sick and wounded, especially on war-torn planets, you quickly adopted his chaotic lifestyle as well.

There wasn’t much difference truthfully, only that you were treating one patient instead of several a day, and rather than coming to you for medical treatment, Mando offered you to move into his ship as an alternative. You didn’t oppose the idea and accepted his offer, not only because the pay is better, but the company is welcome too.

As well as this, you didn’t mind moving into Mando’s ship because he used to visit you regularly for medical attention back on Nevarro. That's where The Bounty Hunter’s Guild is situated, it’s their home base, and although you only stayed in the city for seven months, you didn’t particularly enjoy your time on the volcanic planet. It’s a world of black sand, rocky terrain, and rivers flowing with lava instead of water.

While it was beautiful to gaze upon at night, it was also deadly as the Reptavion's used the darkness to their advantage, hunting anything it could carry before taking flight. Nevarro provided work opportunities and credits, but it wasn’t a place to call home.

However, the volcanic planet is where you met Mando for the very first time. During the months you were staying in the city, you were working in a small medical clinic, and there were plenty more suitable facilities for the man to visit, but he chose your place of work instead.

At first, you assumed it was for discretion as the clinic's unspoken rule was ‘ask no question, hear no lies’, but sometimes he would come to see you with minor injuries that could be treated by his own hands, thus leading you to believe that he was interested in more than just your help. Besides, you enjoyed the man's company when he would come to visit you. He wasn’t much of a talker back then, but as time passed, he gradually opened up.

Moving into the man's ship brought you closer to each other. You became his partner more than his employee, and you love your job because it simply doesn’t feel like a job. It feels like you're working with a trusted friend, sharing the riches and helping each other out.

Whether or not he was actually in need of your service back on Nevarro doesn’t matter. What matters is that he saw an opportunity with your skills and presented a deal to make your working life better - which it has.

Ever since you moved in with him, your life has become better in so many ways; you now have a place to call home, and you have a friend you can rely on without the niggling doubt of betrayal in the back of your mind.

Since you were always on the move before, you adopted a cautious nature with everyone regarding every little detail in your life. You never did fully trust people, but you do with Mando. Things are different with him, and one of the many reasons why it's different with him is because you know the man underneath the beskar.

Many people have heard of Mando. They’ve heard the stories about his reputation in the Bounty Hunters Guild, about how he is the best in the parsec, but his past and identity remain a mystery. Even to you, to some extent, but you’ve heard the stories too, heard ‘warrior’ in the whispers and it’s true. He is a fine warrior, one that fights with grace and loyalty to the cause. His cause; his culture and his religion - the way of Mandalore.

While many call him Mando, or the Mandalorian in the Guild, you know him as Din D’jarin. You have not yet had the pleasure to see his identity, but hopefully one day you will have that pleasure and the honour. These are just some of the many reasons why you love your job, but to put it simply; it’s because of Din.

Since there aren’t a lot of things that surprise you anymore in your line of work and partnership with the man, that doesn’t mean there’s nothing that surprises you. Take these last few days for example, it started off with the same regular chaos, but eventually became something you’re not familiar with.

The loading bay of the Razor Crest is almost packed full of quarries, frozen solid in the carbonite blocks with one more space remaining for the Mythrol. You helped Din as far as your abilities could, and since the tracking fob for the Mythrol led him to a public house on the icy planet, Pagadon, you stayed back on the ship and waited for his return.

And of course, it came as no shock when Din returned with the Mythrol, thankfully without any injuries, but the blue-skinned man tried to pull a fast one. However, it wasn’t fast enough as the Mandalorian was two steps ahead of the trickery. He always is.

Still, just like the normalities in the bounty hunting life, you made your way back to Nevarro and met with Greef Karga in the cantina to offload the carbonite blocks, receive your payments and gather more tracking fobs leading to more quarries.

The surprise began when the words ‘off the books’ were uttered by Greef himself and from the moment Din took his next job, you had mixed feelings. There was no chain code on the quarry, all you had was their age. Then, Din wouldn’t allow you to accompany him when meeting the client and the very fact he was protective of you in that sense, made you worry about their business.

In the Guild, it’s common knowledge that you don’t ask questions about the criminals you hunt. You just get the job done and let the proper authorities serve justice, but something was gnawing at your gut. As the day went on and the chaos continued, the doubts slowly began to fade as you settled back into normality.

The tracking fob led you to a desert planet, Arvala-7, where you met with a kind man named Kuiil working on a moisture farm. It was especially fun watching Din trying to mount the Blurrg and learn to ride them, but you, too, had to learn in order to join his travels to the Nikto Hideout - where the quarry was.

By the afternoon, you and Din had mastered the art of riding the creatures and you set off to capture the quarry. Just like any other day in the bounty hunting life, there was nothing surprising or out of the ordinary. You worked together like you always do and after leaving you at a safe distance away from the hideout, Din moved forward on his own.

As battle ensued, you watched from afar and used comms to help the man out. He fought magnificently. More often than not, his skills leave you awestruck. Mesmerized. You prepared yourself and stocked up on the medical supplies before leaving the moisture farm earlier, but remained hopeful that there wasn’t a need for them.

When the fight was over, the enemy threats were eliminated and Din was unharmed, you made your way to him and entered the hideout together to find the quarry, but when you first laid your eyes on the target, that unsettled feeling returned to your gut. It was an infant baby, a little green baby with big ears and the cutest eyes you’ve ever seen.

Although you remembered that you don’t ask questions in the Guild about the quarries, you couldn’t help wondering, and worrying, about what the client wants with the child. It couldn’t be anything good if Din didn’t want you present in the meeting with them on Nevarro.

You had many doubts and suspicions, so many that you couldn’t find a single rational explanation as to why a baby had a bounty on its head. Naturally, you asked Din all of the questions you had, but he didn’t have any answers.

Now, as you both make your way back to the Razor Crest with the baby through the mountainous canyons of Arvala-7, you still can’t shake off the nerves around this whole ordeal. Din is many things; a fine warrior in battle, a man of few words, emotionally shielded and well guarded, cold and merciless to those who threaten his safety, or yours, but careless? No, never.

The man isn’t careless. He cares greatly, and deeply, and he, too, knows that something is off about this job. You’ve known Din D’jarin for the last two years and you can sense when the man is nervous. He’s quiet, too quiet, and you don’t like when his mind is on overdrive because if he is worried about this job, then you should be fearful.

“Alright. What is it?” You finally break the silence to ask, eager to make sense of his sudden edgy state of mind. Halting your walk and turning to face him, you perch both hands to your hips and tilt your head to the side in question, adding emphasis to your desire for answers.

The baby situated in his floating pod remains close by, right between you and Din as a matter of fact, and he looks up at you both with curiosity. You fight the urge to look at him, to avoid his influence on you as a woman with maternal instincts. The little guy's presence has undoubtedly caused a heavy bout of uncertainty over your heads, a little rift between you and Mando. Not something of the bad kind, but something unfamiliar and foreign. He’s a child, just an innocent baby, so it’s a confusing and an extremely foreign feeling for you both to be transporting him like he’s just another quarry when he isn’t like any other quarry you’ve ever transported before.

“Din, talk to me,” You shake your head now, frustration evident in your tone, “What is it? What’s got you nervous?” You ask again, although the answer is obvious. It’s because of the baby and all the questions he has for the client, but you want to hear him say it.

To hear Din himself say that something isn’t right will validate your reasons to be worried, but you were met with silence yet again. The man wasn’t even paying attention to you, he was too focused on the little lizards scurrying across the sand. “Mando.” Stepping forward and calling him the name that everyone else uses, that usually gets his attention, you open your mouth to speak but the words didn’t even make it past your lips as he shoved you back.

You fell down and watched as he turned swiftly, gun in hand at the ready to shoot, but a blade whacked it out of his grasp, a blade wielded by a Trandoshan. You and Din both lock onto the tracking fob on his hip, the flashing red dot and audible beep familiar, before he then shoves the floating pod away, keeping the baby out of harm's reach. There’s more than one tracking fob, therefore there’s more bounty hunters looking for the child. Bounty Hunters who are careless and don’t ask questions.

Neither one of you can allow the baby to leave your sight or allow him to fall into the wrong hands, thus causing your legs to act before your mind can think. You quickly rise from the floor and move in to help Din wherever you can. He smites the Trandoshan and they tumble to the floor. Then, he takes the blade from him, before turning around to throw it toward you.

“Stay with the baby.” He orders firmly, and you listen to his instructions. Trusting his fighting skills better than your own, you take a few steps back and give him the space he needs to wield his weapons without hurting you.

However, another Trandoshan jumps out of cover. “Behind you!” You yell, giving Din a heads up just in time to evade the direction of a blade coming down in his path. The fight continues, and you take a few more steps back to look up, checking the surroundings to ensure there aren’t any more hunters hiding in the shadows. But there was. “Another one, on your left.” You call out. Again just in time as another Trandoshan jumps down from a ledge.

With one enemy on the floor, but recovering quickly, the odds weren’t in Din’s favour. It wasn’t a fair fight, even though you’re pretty sure he can handle himself, you worry for his safety nonetheless. And although you're not a fighter, you’ll be damned if you don’t try to help even out the odds against him.

After checking that the baby was safe in his pod, you move toward the closest Trandoshan and raise your weapon. His back was turned, giving you the upper hand to land a blow without deadly consequence. Using the blunt side of the blade, you struck the back of his legs, causing him to stumble forward just at the right time for Din to throw his arms out and punch him in the face, knocking him unconscious as he fell to the floor.

Now that the odds were evened out, you watched Din’s movements with laser-like focus and only intervened when you saw the right moment. You were sure he could handle himself, and you were right, but the element of surprise was the only advantage the Trandoshans had over him in the beginning. He fought the remaining two easily, eventually leaving all three unconscious and regretful for ever trying to take on a skilled Mandalorian.

He turns to you, nodding appreciatively. “Good moves there, mesh’la - thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” You shake your head, “You did all the heavy lifting. I was just lending a hand.” You mumble with a sheepish grin on your lips.

“But I know how you don’t like to fight,” He argues gently with a slight chuckle in his modulated voice. “You fought with me. Accept my gratitude, sweet girl.”

“Ok, ok - you’re welcome, Din.” Your smile deepens with flattery as he stands before you with what you can only describe as pride. It was the way he looked at you; his helmet slightly tilted to the side, displaying the reflection of your own face, and his hands resting on his hips with a puffed out chest.

Since you can’t see the man's facial expression, all you’re left with his body language and tone of voice to understand how he feels. And right now, you not only feel a sense of pride from him, but a flicker of attraction too. It’s in the air. The chemistry, the spark, it’s surrounding you both, and it’s something you feel quite often, but never have the courage to act on.

You’re almost certain that the friendship between you and Din means something more, or at least, it’s heading towards something more. But the intimate moments you share with each other, brief moments like this, make you wonder why he doesn’t make a move.

You don’t even have to see the man's face to know that he’s eyeing you up and down. Upon feeling him lean in, something you’ve felt him do many times before, you muster up the courage to lean in as well.

However, the confidence escapes him at the last second and he pulls back, clearing his throat awkwardly. “We should leave now, mesh’la,” He says, breaking the silence and just like that, the moment is over. “ We need to get back on track and complete the job.”

What? You ask yourself as your mouth falls open and your eyes widen, exhibiting your shock and disbelief. After everything that has happened today, especially after a brawl against three Trandoshans, you're shocked that he is still going to hand the baby over to the client. Din picked up on your reaction instantly and straightened his back, as if preparing himself for a dispute.

“Excuse me?” You scoff, your cheeks burning up again for an entirely different reason now. It wasn’t flattery, or attraction, it was anger. “Din, you can’t be serious. We can’t hand the baby over to the client. Especially now that we know other hunters are after him too-” You walk over to one of the Trandoshans laying on the ground and retrieve their tracking fob before presenting it to him, “-The client gave you the job, but handed out more fobs? It doesn't feel right and you know it.”

“Cyar’ika, please don’t do this.” He sighs while running his gloved hand over the scruff of his neck, the pleadings in his voice for you to not argue about this falling on deaf ears. You are most certainly going to argue about this with him. You cross your arms and shake your head, like you had already settled the argument without even uttering another word. But, the dispute was nowhere near settled. “Need I remind you of the code in the Guild?” He asks with a bite to his tone of voice, “If you don’t like this job, I’ll finish this one on my own.”

“On your own?” You laugh humourlessly while waving the tracking fob. “Good luck with that when the whole Guild could have these! What happens if you get hurt? What then?” Biting back with your own set of questions, you watch as the man huffs a short breath and turns away from you, evidently maddened with your bickering. “Don’t turn away. Answer me -” You give him a second to answer, but grow impatient as you're met with a lengthy silence once again. “- What happens if you get hurt, Mando? You can’t do this alone.”

Din turns to you now and stands close, his voice raised to a level that hurts. “I was doing just fine on my own two years ago, Y/N.” Turning away again, as if he couldn’t stand another second looking at you or spend any more time arguing, it didn’t matter anyways as you had ultimately lost the dispute. You give him another second, another chance to make things right and take back what he said, but he doesn’t turn around or mutter a single word.

“Okay then,” You mumble, lowering your head, “Am I just the medic? Is that all I am to you?” You ask, and still, the man doesn’t turn to face you or answer your question. The silence spoke for him and that was all you needed to know before turning around to walk away. You gave him plenty of chances to fix his mistake, but only until your back was turned did he try.

“Cyar'ika.” He calls out for you, finally coming to his senses, but it wasn’t quick enough as you didn’t respond to him. You made your way towards the baby and the sound of your muffled cries made his head hang low with shame. No matter how quiet you tried to be, your cries were audible to his ears, enhanced by the mechanics in his helmet.

Although you were quite visibly sad, he watched you put on a fake smile and talk to the baby like nothing was wrong. The warmness of your soul shone through the misery, causing the little guy to beam and babble baby nonsense. It was a sight so beautiful to witness, so beautiful that it was distracting.

Din can’t allow himself to get too wrapped up in the emotions that the child brings. It’s conflicting, confusing and… foreign. He’s never felt this way before. Never felt this way before with any woman around a child, but it’s different with you and it clouds his mind, throws him off balance and disrupts his focus so much that he doesn’t pay attention to what’s most important right now. Like the danger lingering in the immediate surroundings.

“Y/N!” The man calls to you again, his voice was laden with urgency. “Behind you! Y/N - behind you.” Sprinting toward your position while swinging the strap of his amban rifle around his chest, Din takes aim at another Trandoshan and fires, obliterating the reptilian humanoid to a thousand dust particles.

You fall down, your knees hitting the sandy terrain below as your pained cries penetrate the sound of his beating heart deafening his ears. You took a hit from the Trandoshan, his blade had cut through your clothes and marked your skin before he was blasted into organic matter.

“Mesh’la.” He choked. Rushing over and kneeling on the ground behind you, he reaches out to hold your arms. The injury you sustained was across your back, diagonally, at least three inches long and almost half an inch deep. A clean cut, but angry red and weeping with blood. “Easy now, sweet girl. You’re bleeding, just take it easy.” He reassures you with a slight tremble in his tone, his worry for your well-being perceivable.

“The disinfectant,” You hissed in reply whilst shaking your head, “Get the disinfectant. It’s in my satchel, Mando.” Gently removing your satchel over your shoulder, he places the bag onto the floor and opens it up to search through your medical supplies. Supplies that are normally used for him. There’s irony in the fact you became a medic to treat others, not yourself, and the man despises that his involvement in the bounty hunting business has caused you harm.

And although he is helping to the best of his knowledge, you’re directing him on what to do. “Open the cap and pour a generous amount over the wound.” You explain, then grab his hand on your hip to hold onto for comfort. He begins to ask if you’re sure, but couldn’t even finish his sentence as your sobbing plea cut him off. “Yes-yes! Just get it over with. Please, Din.”

Listening to your instructions, he held his breath and prepared himself as he began dousing your back with disinfectant. You bawled with agony, your back arching away from him naturally with the instinct to stop the pain, but to his regret, he pulled you towards him and continued to pour. He clenches his jaw as you cry, his fingers almost turning blue from the force of your grip on his hand. “I’m sorry.” He apologizes, to which you don’t accept and stutter in reply. “This isn’t y-your fault.”

Releasing your hand to place his thumb and forefinger on your chin, he tilts your head to look at him before leaning in. “I’m sorry, Y/N - for this, for yelling at you, for saying that I was doing just fine two years ago and… and you’re not just a medic.” He rests his helmet against your head and whispers, though his voice breaks with remorse. “You’re so much more than that, mesh’la. You mean so much to me.”

“Din, I-” You open your mouth to object, but he cuts you off by holding his thumb over your lips while shushing you. “Don’t speak and conserve your energy, we’ll talk about it later. Just let me take care of you first.” He says.

“No, Din…” You sigh, eyes blinking slowly while slurring your words. “I was going… going to say that I… I can’t keep my eyes… I don't feel good…” Your body becomes limp as you fall into his arms. Your vision darkens quickly, and the last thing you saw before everything went black was the baby's eyes looking at you as he peaks over the pod.

The next time you awoke, it was a brief moment of consciousness. The familiar sound of Din’s amban rifle could be heard as he fired off multiple rounds and your eyes glimmered open to see his legs, the bandolier of cartridges wrapped around his calf. You saw his gloved hand reaching for ammunition to load into his weapon and worried as to why he needed them.

“It’s ok. Everything is ok,” he says upon noticing you were awake and were fighting to keep your eyes open. “We’re safe here. Go back to sleep, cyar’ika.”

Eyes closing once again, you couldn’t keep them open no matter how hard you tried to, and his voice soon faded as you slipped into a deep slumber. The silence took over and, oddly, it felt comforting. Although it only felt like minutes had passed, you knew it must have been longer as your surroundings were different.

There was no longer a warm breeze, but the cold presence of steel pressing into your side, and beneath you, it felt spongy and soft, thus indicating you were laying on a bed. The unmistakable sound of Kuiil’s voice could be heard in the distance as he makes the baby laugh and you open your eyes to confirm your assumptions on your whereabouts, but are met with locks of brown hair instead.

It’s Din. He’s the cold presence of steel pressing into your side as he sat on the edge of the bed and it’s his hair that you were currently staring at with wide eyes. His back was turned, but you could still see the back of his head and instantly shut your eyes, fearing that if you spent one more second looking, you wouldn’t be able to turn away.

“Mando,” You whisper immediately, panicking, then feel him moving around. “Mando, why don’t you have your helmet on? Stars! I could have seen your face.”

You begin to shift your position to turn away from him, but are reminded of the wound on your back. The pain struck you suddenly and harshly, causing Din’s hands to dart out to cover your eyes just in time as you opened them with instinct. He was gentle but quick. “It’s ok, mesh’la. You can’t see, it’s ok.” He reassures you through the strained whimpers slipping past your lips.

“Where is your helmet?” You ask, getting your teeth. You close your eyes again once the surge of pain passes over and the soothing properties of bacta gel takes over. You can feel the substance on your back, feel the stuff working to heal your injury. “My eyes are closed now. It’s safe but… Shit, Din. I saw your hair.” You say apologetically.

“It’s fine, sweet girl.” He chuckles softly, the sound making your mouth fall open with shock as you retort. “It’s not funny. I’m not allowed to see you - or your hair! What… W-what happens now?” You ask, to which he laughs again and startles you unintentionally when reaching out to cup your cheek. You weren’t expecting to feel his gloved fingers on your skin, but you quickly leaned into his touch as his gesture brought consolation.

“Look at me,” He requests, “It's safe to look, I promise.”

Rolling your eyes behind closed lids, you make a surprised sound when he caresses your cheek with his thumb. Again, you weren’t expecting the comforting gesture, but deeply appreciated it. And whether or not it was the bacta gel or Din easing the discomfort in your back, you chose to believe it was the latter.

A short moment passes before you finally open your eyes and find relief in the T shape of his helmet. Although you would love nothing more than to see his identity, the face of his helmet is what you know, it’s home. Your face softens as you relax into the palm of his hand, but the importance and worry around your question still lingers, thus causing you to ask again. “What happens now? I thought I wasn’t allowed to see you without the helmet, doesn’t that also mean I can’t see your hair?”

“You didn’t see my face, nor did you remove my helmet, mesh’la,” He shakes his head, his voice soft like honey, “It’s okay and besides-” He turns his head, displaying the brown locks of his hair at the base of his neck, “-You can see my hair with the helmet on.”

“Oh,” You whisper with intrigue, “Surprised I didn’t notice sooner, but your hair is…” Lifting your hand with a desire to touch his hair, you back out at the last second and retract your arm, but Din felt your movements and quickly assured. “Go ahead. I trust you.”

You reach out again and caress the base of his neck, your fingertips massaging his scalp which draws out the heaviest sounding exhale you’ve ever heard from him; a sigh of relief, filled with endearment and relaxation. It was a gratifying feeling, seeing and hearing the man lean into your touch without fear of betrayal in this moment of vulnerability. Din is vulnerable at this moment, his guard is down and just the mere thought of removing his helmet sickens you. It never crosses your mind.

“Your hair is beautiful, Din.” You murmur sweetly, a smile on your lips displaying your satisfaction and joy from something so simple. The action of touching his hair which you’d love to do again, to feel him melt in your arms like soft putty and feel a sense of home from your touch, like you feel a sense of home when looking into the T-shape of his visor.

You gently squeeze the base of his neck, a way of reassuring him, before pulling your hand back, however, it was apparent that he wanted more as he sharply held your wrist and directed your hand back to his hair. “Please?” He asks in a whispered breath, hopeful and optimistic, desperate. “Keep playing with my hair, ner cyar’ika.”

You laugh, a mixture of surprise and confusion obvious in your tone. The difference in his pet name for you was confusing, and his request for you to continue playing with his hair was surprising. Though, you granted his request gladly and began playing with his hair. “What does cyar’ika mean anyway?” You ask, tilting your head with interest while wondering what faces he was making under the helmet from your massaging movements. “Is there a difference when you say ner cyar’ika?”

“Yes.” He groans in reply, the sound drawing out another laugh from your lips as your smile deepens. You open your mouth to ask another question, until he turns his head to face you and leans across your body. The pause in his manoeuvre speaks of hesitancy, unsure on whether or not you were comfortable with what was about to do.

The question you had vanishes from your mind as you nod to the man, nodding with confirmation for him to lay down and rest his head in your arms. The bed in which you lay on didn’t feel small until Mando lay on it with you. Not that you minded anyway, but it really detailed the size and stature of the man, especially the broad expanse of his chest and back.

He raised both hands to his helmet, and before he could even ask, you closed your eyes with baited breath as he removed it to optimize the comfiest position. The position he chose however, was burying his face between your neck and shoulder. You didn't release the breath you were holding, it was snatched from your lungs.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you thought this day would come, but doubt is what kept it at the back of your mind. You never entertained the idea of laying in bed with Mando too much as it felt like a pipe dream to have the man in your arms like this, and now that you do, it feels better than you ever could have imagined.

The pain in your back is practically non-existent now, almost as if you never even sustained an injury, and that’s because of his presence, his proximity and his comfort. It wasn’t a struggle to keep your eyes closed as you basked in the sensation of him carefully laying his weight over you like this.

Something else you’ve also thought about in the past, but tried not to think about too much, is Din laying over you for an entirely different reason. And perhaps it’s because of the level of intimacy in this position that brings those thoughts back to the surface, or maybe it was the electrifying feeling of his lips pressed against your skin.

The man wasn’t exactly kissing you per se, but the bare contact of his lips placed against your neck like this felt like a kiss. Besides, the vest shirt that you wore left a lot of skin on your chest on display, thus providing Din, and yourself, to relish in skin-to-skin contact.

You could feel his beard, it was a light amount of hair, grazing against you with every little movement of his head. Soon, though, all of those little movements from Din became obvious that he was uncomfortable, as if he kept moving slightly to adjust his comfort.

“Want me to stop?” You ask, wondering if he has had enough of you playing with his hair, but to your delight, he shook his head as he inhaled deeply. He smiles against your skin, thus piquing your interest. “What? What is it?” You laugh bashfully.

“You smell good, ner cyar’ika.” He replies, nestling his nose into your neck to inhale the natural scent of you. The smile on your face is yet to fade, his actions are what keeps your lips turned upwards, that was until you felt something wet dart onto your skin. It was brief, too brief, but you felt it nonetheless.

It was Din’s tongue, and your smile disappears as you bite your lip, leaving a hankering desire to feel it again. Your skin heats up beneath him as you entertain those thoughts about him lying over you like this for a different reason. You think about how you’ve yearned for his gloved fingers to touch other areas of your body, and as well as wondering about his identity, you’ve also wondered what he looks like nude. A mind is an imaginative place, and you’ve imagined him naked more than once. You sigh softly with the ache between your legs, wishing Din to be the one who eases it.

“Mesh’la,” He mumbles, grabbing your attention, and when you hum in reply to him, he asks: “Is everything ok? Your heart is racing -” Your eyes spring open with worry, feeling like he could see your dirty thoughts, thus causing your heart to pound harder, “- Hey, hey, relax. I can move, am I making you uncomfortable?” He asks, blaming himself for your panic. Although he is to blame, it’s not for the reason he thinks.

“No, it’s just…” You falter with finding the right words, but the patience to wait for him any longer escapes you. “It’s just that I felt your tongue on my neck and if… Stars, this is going to be embarrassing if I’m wrong… and if you did it purposely, then I want to feel it again, but…” You gulp, gathering your courage to admit your feelings, “...But if it was just a mistake, then I think that we should maybe stop what we’re doing because I’m attracted to you Din.”

“You are?” He asks, to which you reply firmly. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

“So…” He smiles, “You like this?” He asks before placing an open mouthed kiss to your neck, his tongue darting out onto your skin again, thus eliciting you to sigh breathily. “Y-yes. Yes, I like that.” Your eyes close naturally as he plants another kiss on your skin, still with a smile on his lips, as he begins to pant. “I’m attracted to you too. Have been for a long time, ner cyar’ika.”��

“Oh, Din.” You moan. With arousal and relief, his admission makes you moan, the sound acting as a catalyst as he moves down your body, his head disappearing under the covers eagerly to hear you moan again. “Are you able to lay on your back?” You hear him ask, though his voice was muffled, you heard him clearly and nod frantically with excitement.

Shifting your position to accommodate him, you couldn’t feel the pain in your back anymore and slipped your hands beneath the covers, your fingers finding his hair with ease. “It’s ok, I’m comfortable lying like this.” You say while focusing on his every move with anticipation. You could feel his breath fanning across your lower stomach, his fingers hooked inside the waistband of your pants as he leans in to place another kiss on your skin.

You lift your hips up with a silent request, one that he understood without a need for words, and begins pulling your pants down, along with your underwear. He leans in and presses his lips to your inner thigh, nipping a path toward your sex. You unintentionally begin gripping his hair by the handfuls, evidently desperate to feel his tongue delve into your slick folds. The man doesn’t waste time and gives in to his own desperation.

“Din!” You whine upon feeling the tip of his tongue meet your clit. He teases you at first, moving his tongue in a circular motion with a feather-light touch, the action making your hips lift off the bed to search for more. You feel him smiling against your inner thigh, clearly satisfied with your reactions, before he closes his lips around your sensitive bud and sucks gently.

You let go of his hair to hold the back of your palm over your mouth, quieting your mewls of pleasure to a respectable level. Considering all the noises Din himself is making was driving you feral, it was a struggle to try and keep quiet. He sounded hungry, like a man starved for a taste of your sweetness right from the source, as if he had dreamed of this moment and was making the most of it now that it’s a reality.

Your hands abandoned his hair to grip handfuls of the bed sheets instead, your back arching as you tilt your head to the side and bury your face into the pillow. Your orgasm crept up on you, started off with a happy cramp in your stomach but quickly became bliss as he eased a finger inside your entrance, soothing the ache in your velvety walls. Din grunted heavily, needily, as he drank your desire.

He continued to flick his tongue against your clit while angling his finger into a come hither motion, caressing that sweet spot deep inside. The stars behind your eyes and the goosebumps rippling across your body never felt so good before, especially from the simple act of receiving oral. It’s been a while, a long while, since you’ve last felt the pleasurable touch of your own hands, let alone a man's pair of hands.

You needed this, needed to release all your pent up sexual energy, though it only made you insatiable for more. “Din,” You call to him, calling on his help to your frustrations, “Din, I need you.”

Suddenly, his hand emerges from the quilt, “Here,” he says, handing you a blindfold. “Put this on for me, sweet girl.” He asks, to which you oblige and pull the item over your eyes hastily. “Ready - now get up here, I need to feel you.”

Moving up your body without having to tell him twice, he travels slowly and plants kisses on your skin along the way, his smile never fading as he takes in the sight of you beneath him. “Gar’re bid mesh’la… (you’re so beautiful).” He growls wantonly, “...Bid, bid mesh’la (so, so beautiful).”

“I’m not sure what that means,” You giggle, the smile on your lips as wide as ever, “But I like the way you say it.” You reach out carefully in search of his face, to which he helps by directing your hands, and once you feel him, you gasp. “Stars! You’re so beautiful,” you whisper in awe as you trace the outline of his facial features, “Your lips… your cheekbones… nose… jawline… everything about you is beautiful, Din.”

“Thank you, sweet girl.” He breathes, eyes closing to relish in the soft touch of your palms cupping his cheeks. “I’ll teach you Mando’a and soon you will understand everything I say, but I said you were beautiful too. So beautiful.” He explains, causing your cheeks to burn once again with flattery as you pull him closer. His lips press against yours with a bruising kiss, and you couldn’t help but moan because of the raw passion and loving desire to finally feel what you’ve yearned for.

Although there was a hint of desperation in his bid to remove your clothes, Din was gentle with his movements, gentle and respectful. You helped remove his clothes too, and with each inch of skin revealed, you marvelled at the bare touch of him pressing against you. You’ve seen areas of the man's skin before when taking care of his injuries, but never fully seen him naked.

Using your sense of touch to see, you feel his body and drag your fingers along his chest, feeling the brute strength that he holds. The strength of a warrior. Between your legs, you feel his member pressing against your cunt and it was an impressive size. Aching to be buried in your warm. His breath bellowing across your face, hot and heavy, laden with the same sound of relief from earlier when you played with his hair as you admire his body now.

“Cyar’ika.” He groans. Placing his hands beside your head, you feel his body shudder with need, his hips rolling forward ever so slightly to ease the throb that burdens his cock. You slip your hands around the base of his neck, pulling him in to close the gap and kissing his lips whilst parting your legs. As he lines himself up at your entrance, your hands fall to his biceps, holding him tightly as you prepare from the breach.

“Nngh,” you break off to moan, deeply and satisfyingly, “Fuck, Din! Keep going.” You lift your head off the pillow to kiss him again, letting him swallow all the little pretty noises you were making as he carefully buried himself to the hilt. Your walls opened up with ease, stretching to accommodate his size. “It’s ok,” You say, pleading for him to move. “I’m ok.”

“Are you sure, mesh’la?” He asks, to which you nod in reply. “Waited so long for this,” pulling his hips back slowly, he grabs onto your thigh for leverage before burying himself into your cunt again. “Dank Farrik!” He grunts across your face, “So warm and tight. Better than I imagined, sweet girl.”

The sound of his filthy words made you mewl, having never heard the man speak this way before, you were surprised, yet growing more aroused and confident to be honest with him. “I used to think… Shit!” You stutter as he grinds into you, drawing out a moan from your lips, “...I used to think about this. In the night, while you were sleeping in your bunk, I’d think about you making love to me.” You admit.

“Oh fuck.” Din gasps. Picking up his pace while resting his forehead against yours, his moans broken and breathless, his cock reaches a new depth inside your cunt, hitting that sweet spot inside over and over again. “I’m so relieved to hear you say that,” he says, “I took myself in hand many nights thinking about you."

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” You quickly warn upon feeling the peak of your climax racing toward you. “I’m close. Stars! I’m so close. Keep talking to me.” You cry, feeling yourself on the verge of tearing up from the intensity of your pleasure, but the sound of his voice keeps you tethered to the moment, preventing you from floating up to cloud nine.

“I would dream about you often,” He groans while holding the base of your neck, his thumbs dragging across your skin reassuringly, “Wet dreams, mesh’la. I felt so ashamed, but… Fuck, they felt so good. Dreaming about you in my sleep felt so good.”

“More… Tell me more.” You hiss. Wrapping your legs around his back and locking your ankles together, you feel his hips falter as he moans through gritted teeth. “Your pussy, nngh! I’d dream about your pussy wrapped around me, taking my load, mesh’la. Again and again until you couldn’t hold any more and it dripped out of you. Fuck! I’m gonna… Shit, Y/N, I’m coming-” He cuts himself off with a needy whine, throwing his head back with bliss as he feels you clenching around him.

“I-Inside,” You begged him, “Please, Din. Come inside of me.” The man couldn’t stop himself even if he tried to. You felt him reach climax, the warmth of his release spreading inside of you, coating your velvety walls as they pulsed around him, as if milking him of everything he could give. “Mando. Fuuck, Mando!” You mewled directly into his ear, your eyes screwed shut behind the blindfold as his orgasm pushed you over the edge.

White static casted over your eyes as your ears ring loudly, your heart thrums in your chest as nothing but pleasure courses through your veins. You unintentionally dig your nails into his back, clawing at his skin as he reverts to a slow grind into your cunt, the movements pleasuring your clit and prolonging the ecstasy of your high. “That’s it, sweet girl. There you go.” He praises you through it as he comes down from his orgasm, the sound of his voice overstimulating.

Resting your head back against the pillow as you come down, breathing heavily, he plants loving kisses along your jawline and neck. “So pretty like this.” He whispers sweetly, his voice heavy with satisfaction as your hands find his face again. “Are you okay?” He asks.

“How…” Your voice croaks, “How do you say happy in Mando’a?”

“Briikase,” He chuckles, to which you reply with a smile. “Well, I’m briikase right now. Really briikase.”

“Me too, cyar’ika-” He pauses to brush the hair away from your face, correcting himself. “Ner cyar’ika baar’ur.” You open your mouth to ask another question, to ask what difference in his pet names mean, but he leans in to catch your lips in a fervent kiss instead.

Din pulls back, looking to where your eyes would be behind the blindfold while caressing your cheek. “Ner cyar’ika baar’ur... my darling medic. Ni’m ori briikase as pirusti bal ni kar'taylir darasuum gar, mesh’la... I’m very happy as well and I love you, beautiful.”

You make a surprised sound when hearing some familiar words in his language and learning what they mean, that he has said them before in the past. “I love you too, Din.” You say earnestly, the tears staining the fabric of his blindfold, which you now just realized that he’s kept in his pocket in hopes to use with you one day, like today. You not only became Din D’jarin’s medic, but you became his - his darling medic.

There aren’t a lot of things that surprise you these days as a trained medic, but that doesn’t mean nothing surprises you anymore. These last few days have been adventurous and emotional, foreign and unfamiliar, life-threatening and dangerous. It’s been life-changing for you and the Mandalorian, and it’s all because of a baby. The little guys presence not only sparked your maternal instincts, but the protective fatherly instincts within Din too.

And, although neither of you know it now, the baby is only just the beginning of your treacherous journey across the stars in search of reuniting him with his people.

Tagging:

Perma Taglist (Everything): @marydjarin @kirsteng42 @supernaturalgirl @supernaturalgirl20 @harriedandharassed @joelmillerscoffee @joelsrifle @swtaura @alexxavicry @boliv-jenta @dragonsondragons @practicalghost @janebby @faceache111 @sleepylunarwolf @tusk89 @anismaria-blog @graciexmarvel @munsonownsmyass

All Mandalorian Content: @pale-gingerale @mandalorian-dindjarin @michele131 @chxpsi @burninggracesandbridges @wordsfromshona @lavenderbxnny @margofiore

All Pedro Pascal Character Content: @joelsflannel @mswarriorbabe80 @readsalot73 @allthe-ships @avengersftspn @hb8301 @scorpio-marionette @squidwell @sunnshineeexoxo @trickstersp8 @graciexmarvel @tanzthompson @bbyanarchist @oogaboogasphincter @emiemiemiii

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commandershepardvasfuckit · 2 months

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How Halsin’s “once you get to my age” conversation not long after he finally recruited as a party member SHOULD have gone if you were an elf and could call him out on not being old.

Because as a drow my Tav should be allowed to call him out and tease him over it

(My Tav, but written pretty generically and without any gender indicators for Tav so knock yourself out)

————————

“You didn’t answer the part about lovers” you say as you fold your arms. Halsin held a certain level of fascination to you. Maybe it was his sheer size, maybe it was his confidence, or his willingness to just listen. Maybe it was because you truly could not get a read on him.

He had been frustratingly dodging most questions about himself until now, softly smiling and telling you ‘there will be time for questions later. I must keep my focus on the task at hand’ and now somehow managed to tell you an incredible amount and nothing at all at the same time.

“I’m 350 years old. Of course there have been lovers. Just because I love nature doesn’t mean I’m betrothed to it. Though sometimes, nature needs reminding…” he trailed off.

Another redirection, talks of the past while not acknowledging that the question was about the current and offering an interesting tidbit instead. You recognized what he was trying to do, but unfortunately his smirk while speaking about nature alluded to an all too good to pass up story.

“Hold on- nature needs reminding of what exactly?” you ask.

“Well, I didn’t pick this scar up in battle. I was in wildshape, only I forgot it was the season when bears are particularly social. A she-bear claimed me as her own- and did not appreciate being spurned” he said.

Less riveting than you hoped, but still interesting. And certainly not enough to convince you to drop the question.

“Don’t leave me hanging- is there someone in your life right now?” Simple. Direct. Surely no way to dodge it again.

“Right now? I bed down alone, I’m afraid” he answers. There’s a small drop in his voice, not sorrow, but, disappointment?“Perhaps once I talk less of curses and parasites, my fortunes will improve”.

It was not quite the answer you were expecting. A clear answer this time, but something in the way his words hung in the air felt off.

You look over his face, searching for some glimmer of information but are met with the same relaxed but stoic expression he used when he was done talking about a subject.

“Tell me something about yourself that I wouldn’t even think to ask” you change the subject, hoping to find any bit of interesting information from him.

“Hmm, I suppose you wouldn’t be shocked to learn I love animals and nature? I know, I know; well-trodden territory. Well, let’s see… I whittle in my spare time, and I’ve something of a sweet tooth- though everyone’s very amused when I say I like honey”.

A smile plays on your lips, you genuinely could not tell if he was avoiding saying much and choosing to give you obvious answers purposefully or not.

“Whittling? What do you make?” you ask, fishing for anything you could.

“Ornaments, utensils- and ducks. I like ducks”.

New information gained and yet nothing new truly learned.

“So you turn into a bear and you like honey?” you repeat back to him, “A little on the nose”.

“I like what I like. Once you get to my age you realize there’s little point in denying yourself, so long as other’s aren’t affected” Halsin replies.

“Your age?” you laugh, in the grand scheme of elven lives Halsin was young still, only a few decades older than yourself despite speaking as if he was at least 800. “And how old do you think I am?”

Halsin flashed a quick smile, brief but betraying a lot of emotion. The sort guilty smile you offer when you’re caught.

“My apologies. I don’t encounter too many full elves these days” his face relaxes, not his usual careful composure, but a true relaxation. “No, I supposed 350 is young still, and sometimes I need reminding of that too. You get used to seeing life on the scale that the others see. People treat you as old and you start to believe it, or at least you let them make their assumptions about you”.

“So ‘old, wise Halsin’ is an act?” you tease.

“I am wise!” he laughs, a truly deep laugh that rumbled from his chest. A laugh that spreads into a sense of warmth within you. “If I wasn’t then you wouldn’t have come to my grove seeking my knowledge and skills!”

“I was told to seek out the old, wise archdruid of the the grove and imagine my surprise seeing an elf, only decades older than myself acting as if he was as least twice his age!” You laughed back, unable to keep his laughter from spreading to you. “Though I suppose I can keep quiet and let you continue this front, if you can keep up with me, old man, because I very much so am still young” you tease.

“You’ll find I’m more than able to keep up with anything you’ve got, don’t let me fool you into thinking my size is just for show. I think you’ll find I’m more than capable of going all day and night” the tone that crept into his voice let you know that he very much knew why you were asking if he currently had a lover earlier.

#bg3 #bg3 halsin #halsin #halsin silverbough #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 tav

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mncxbe · 11 months

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𝙏𝙬𝙤 𝙡𝙞𝙫𝙚𝙨 // 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚

𝑻𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒊𝒉𝒂𝒓𝒂 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

"You like me, babydoll" he'd often tease. And he was right.

𝑮𝒆𝒏𝒓𝒆: smut/fluff

𝑾𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔: season 4 spoilers / mentions of blood

His hips were rocking back and forth at a relentless speed, fingers digging into my thighs.

"Mmm so good baby. I missed this so much" he moaned lowly.

I was laying on my back, legs wrapped around Tachihara's waist, gazing at this pretty features. His eyes were shut tight, his mouth slightly agape as he was whispering sweet nonsense. Strands of his rusty red hair were drenched in sweat.

'That's quite a sight' I thought to myself.

We first met when I joined the Black Lizard as a division commander ten months ago. My arrival was met with reluctance, but after a few weeks everyone was fond of me. Well, almost everyone. Tachihara Michizō, the angry redhead, always kept his distance. This was mostly due to the fact that I got along quite well with Gin.

There was also my ability, which allows me to manipulate my enemy's heartbeat provided I touch their blood. Naturally, people tended to avoid training with me and Tachihara was no different. Gin sometimes sparred with me but her skills in battle were way above mine so she was in no real danger.

The first three months were packed with missions and operations. But as soon as summer started it seemed that even the criminals went on vacations. Weeks passed without one single mission. I was bored beyond belief. It was on one of these days that I ended up using my ability on Tachihara.

When I walked into the empty warehouse I saw the redhead cleaning his guns.

"Hey there. Wanna spar with me?" I enquired.

My colleague didn't bother to lift his eyes from his pistols as he replied in a flat voice.

"No. Leave me alone."

"I need to blow off some steam, Tachihara. Please." I whined

The man rose to his feet, drawing a knife from his jacket.

"Okay then. Bring it on" he said as he ran towards me.

I was so taken aback by his sudden actions that I barely managed to dodge his attack. Taking my own knife, I put some distance between us, trying to form a plan.

"What? That's all you got?" he mocked with a wild grin on his lips.

We fought for a couple of good minutes. At first Tachihara went easy on me, but when he realized I wasn't an easy match, his attacks got more violent. His eyes had a feral glimmer as he gritted his teeth, desperately swinging his knife.

Eventually, his attacks got sloppier and I managed to find an opening. The blade of my short knife sliced through the fabric of his jacket, cutting his arm right above his elbow.

The redhead ceased his chaotic movement, an astonished look on his face. Blood ran down his arm staining his clothes.

"Oh shit I'm so sorry." I apologized.

I dropped my knife to the floor, running to him. "That's a lot of blood please let me-"

"No no don't~" interrupted the man but it was too late. My hands wrapped around his bleeding arm, sqeezing tightly.

He froze, his eyes shooting open. A familiar feeling took over me as I felt his rushing heartbeat in every cell of my body. Tachihara yanked his arm from my grip, taking a few steps backwards. None of us uttered a word until the rhythm of his heart returned to normal.

"Aren't you going to kill me or something?" he asked

"Why would I kill you?"

"You literally have my heart in your hands. Don't tell me that you don't want some payback for how badly I treated you"

"I actually don't" I replied confidently "All I want right now is to help you stop the bleeding. Will you let me?"

After that we met up regularly to spar after stressful days. Soon though fighting wasn't enough to release the tention so we did other stuff too. I often found myself wrapped around him, nails digging and scratching at his back like there was no tomorrow as I moaned his name in the night.

"You like me, babydoll" he'd often tease.

And he was right. Before I knew it I had fallen in love with the redhead. And the feelings were shared. Although Tachihara seems like a cold, distant person, he is the sweetest partner one could ask for. He would always look out for me and even his short temper was quite adorable. Two months and a half after we started dating he moved in.

Nothing on earth could do us apart. We decided to overcome any hardship we ever came across. That's why when he confessed to me that he was working for the Hunting Dogs, I was totally unfazed.

"Poor choice but ok." I replied, taking his hand in mine. "I guess I'll just have to quit the Mafia."

And so I left the organization, switching over to voluntary work at the ER. My ability was quite useful when it came to helping patients with heart problems.

Up to this day we continue living together at my place, going about our days as usual.

I ran my fingers over the scar on his arm, fragments of the time spent together coming to me in flashes. His thrusts grew sloppier, signaling how close he was to his release, each of his grunts and low, desperate moans only adding to the fuel.

"I'm so close Hara" I uttered between whimpers. He brought one of his hands to my belly, pressing down with his palm.

"You feel how deep I am, pretty?" His thumb drew circles on my clit. "Cum for me, dear" he added in a ragged voice.

I felt the knot in my stomach snap, my back arching as I jolted in pleasure. Tachihara's eyelids gently fluttered as he felt me tighten around his cock. After a few more thrusts he came, his warm seed filling me.

The man rested his forehead against mine. He took his time to catch his breath and then opened his eyes, his amber gaze locked with mine.

I pulled him into a deep kiss and he snaked his arms around my waist. As soon as he pulled away from the kiss, he flopped to the side.

"I love you, baby" was all he uttered before drifting into a dreamless sleep.

I watched his figure, sprawled on my bed. My fingertips made their way to his back, tracing shapes all over his skin. Then I leaned in and kissed his shoulder.

"I love you too, Hara" I whispered into his ear before falling asleep next to him.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #bsd smut #port mafia #tachihara michizou #bsd tachihara #bsd x reader #tachihara smut

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jakesuit0 · 4 months

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What Was Missing Review

Finn is revealed to regularly have alone time with the wad of Princess Bubblegum’s hair she gave him in “To Cut a Woman’s Hair”. It’s essentially a PG version of a guy still holding on to their ex’s underwear for personal use. The allegory is pushed forward with Finn checking to make sure he is alone. Don’t get me wrong, this isn’t exactly shocking behavior for a thirteen year old boy, but it’s the first big sign that Finn’s crush is getting unhealthy after “Too Young”. It’s time to move on! Unlike “Wizard Battle”, I like the incorporation of Finn’s feelings, despite the arc feeling like there’s nowhere to go after “Too Young”. It’s not the main conflict in the episode, and serves to build to a climax in the season finale.

The Door Lord steals Finn’s gum, Jake’s blanket, and BMO’s controller. It’s hilarious that he only speaks in loud mumbles. He’s supposed to be related to Key-per from “The Enchiridion!”. The Door Lord steals a toy from a candy person and Finn reassures him “I’ll get your kid back, toy!”. The episode wasn’t originally written this way. Adam Muto misspoke when he was pitching the episode and they thought it was funny to keep it like that. Door Lord steals something from Bubblegum and attempts to steal Marceline’s bass axe. With Maja being in possession of Hambo, it makes sense for her bass axe to be her most important item. Finn, Jake, Princess Bubblegum, Marceline, and BMO have to team up to solve the riddle of the door. It’s great getting to see this group of characters together for the first time. It’s the entire main cast minus Ice King, and they get so few opportunities to all be together before Stakes. Their group dynamic is so fun too. The episode is set in Red Rock Pass, which is a really pretty setting to choose for a (mostly) bottle episode.

Marceline chastises Bubblegum for not executing the door lords, as they kept breaking out of jail. I’m not sure if PB is really above just killing them, considering all the fucked up stuff she’s done in the past. But, killing might be a bridge too far for her. I know she committed robot genocide, but I argue she didn’t see them as sentient beings. Jake decides to pretend to be the jerk in the band. Since Jake doesn’t have a grand emotional arc, this is a funny role to put him in. Marceline starts singing “Just Your Problem”:

-“I’m gonna drink the red from your pretty pink face”. This pretty much gives the game away about PB and Marcy not being platonic. She’s singing about kissing and biting PB.

-PB calls it “distasteful”, causing Marceline to accuse her of just not liking her. This ties into PB not liking Marceline’s behavior when she got more and more consumed with her princess duties. Marceline became well aware of this by their first mission to the Glass Kingdom (“Oh c’mon, you love it.”).

-“Sorry I don’t treat you like a goddess. Is that what you want me to do?” She’s calling out PB’s god complex. Marceline assumes Bonnie thinks she’s better than her, like how she sings “you’re self-obsessed and all the rest” in Distant Lands.

-“Sorry I don’t treat you like you’re perfect, like all your little loyal subjects do. Sorry I’m not made of sugar. Am I not sweet enough for you?”. Marceline thinks Bubblegum demands absolute loyalty from everyone as she does with her citizens. She thinks PB would prefer Marceline to be a dum dum juiced moron that never questions her. We don’t know if Marceline is aware of the dum dum juice, but I like to think that she’s partially referring to that. It also relates to Marcy viewing PB as a dictator as she sings in “Woke Up”. She thinks PB wants her to turn down her edginess and be sweeter, like when she wasn’t taking the situation in the Glass Kingdom seriously, something I’m sure wasn’t an isolated incident.

-I’ll lump together “Is that why you always avoid me?” with the later line “I forgot what landed me on your blacklist.” Some people question why Marceline wonders this considering her singing “Woke Up” is the obvious answer. I think she’s partially referring to PB’s actions before their breakup. Bubblegum grew more distant as her responsibilities grew, something that confused and hurt Marceline. PB talks about this in “Varmints”. She’s also referring to PB being cold to Marceline for centuries after their breakup. Even when they were around each other in “Power Animal” and “Video Makers”, we don’t see them talking. Bubblegum was very dismissive of Marcy in “Go With Me”. This is partially Marceline’s fault, as she can be really rude and mean to Bonnie, as seen in this episode.

-“I shouldn’t have to justify what I do.” Marceline doubles down on acting the way she thinks people perceive her. If people think she’s a monster, it's less painful for her to embrace it. This is something she picked up on from thinking she scared her mother away.

-“I shouldn’t have to be the one who makes up with you so why do I want to…” Marceline thinks that since PB is the one who pushed her away, PB is the one who should take the initiative of making things right. There is some truth to this, but as we see in “Obsidian”, they are both more at fault than Marcy is willing to admit. The faces on the door glow brighter and Marceline gets closer to the truth. The truth is she wants to at least be friends with Princess Bubblegum again. That’s the real reason she joined the group here. Reconnecting to PB is something we’ll see her try to do in episodes like “Sky Witch”, “Princess Day”, and “Varmints”.

The song itself slaps. “Just Your Problem” is super popular, so much so that tons of non-fans know the song. A big reason being that it’s probably the most relatable Adventure Time song ever. A lot of people have friends and lovers that drifted away from them or became downright cold to them due to their differences. Rebecca Sugar even based the song off of her experience with a roommate. Princess Bubblegum’s face during this is also pretty telling. She was definitely having flashbacks to the last time Marceline humiliated her with a song. PB’s face turns to shock when Marceline is on the verge of revealing she wants to make up with her. I don’t blame Bonnie for not realizing this. Marceline’s general nastiness towards her, and of course what she said about her while singing “Woke Up”, would give PB the opposite impression.

Finn doesn’t fully grasp the tension between PB and Marcy, but is able to diffuse the awkwardness and get everyone (besides Jake) to have fun together. I also like how sweet Marceline is to BMO, gently calling him “baby”. I like PB’s quirky attempt at a science based song, which is more fitting for her than singing her heart out like Marceline and Finn. Her song fails and Marceline uses it to antagonize PB. She fixates on Bonnie’s failures as she feels insecure in her presence. The words “monster trash” are definitely echoing in her mind here. Marceline is still really nasty to PB. A lot of it feels like unwarranted bullying without the context of future episodes, but even with the context, it still feels that way to an extent. Spitting on PB is pretty inexcusable and Bubblegum is totally right to walk away after it. Their conflict boils down to Princess Bubblegum’s ego and Marceline’s insecurity clashing. I also like the detail of Shelby slithering back into Jake’s smashed viola.

As a final effort, Finn sings “My Best Friends in the World” after realizing the key to the door is the truth:

-“Am I a joke…?” Finn worries that Marceline doesn’t respect Finn, and perhaps only hangs around him because she enjoys messing with him. This is an understandable fear with episodes like “Henchman”. It’s still fundamentally untrue, squashed by the end of “Henchman” and in “Heat Signature”. There is no denying, however, that she loves trolling Finn. She likes messing with everyone, Finn’s young mind just makes him an easier target.

-“...your knight…?” This could be taken to mean Finn wonders if PB only keeps him around, and entertains his advancements, just to use his service to the kingdom. It’s true that Bubblegum employs Finn a lot, and isn’t above manipulating him for her benefit (“The Other Tarts”, “Too Old”, “James”), but she still genuinely enjoys his company whether they are working or just hanging out. He might also just be referring to this positively, as her knight in shining armor.

-“Do you look down on me because I’m younger?” All of Finn’s closest companions are older than him, and it makes sense that this weighs on him. Even Jake, who is often close to Finn’s level and acts as a best friend, also often acts as his parental guardian. This line applies most of all to Bubblegum, given how recent “Too Young” is. The events of that episode are still raw for Finn, and PB’s behavior to him after her age was restored came across as condescending and dismissive.

-“I just wanted us together and to play as a band. Last night was the most fun I’ve ever had.” Finn loves getting to finally hang out with everyone he loves together and feeling like part of a family.

-“Even liked it when the two of you would get mad at each other.” Finn prefers honesty between friends, and appreciates seeing their more vulnerable side as they are usually more closed off from their true emotions in front of him.

-“You are my best friends in the world. And that’s right, I’m talking about the two of you girls. And you Jake.” With his parents dead, the three of them are by far his closest companions. He’s even grown very close to Marceline in recent times. It’s kinda mean to exclude BMO, who’s right there, but BMO becomes more of a part of Finn’s family over time than he is here.

-“I’ll forget that I lost a piece of your hair. I’ll remember the pasta that we shared over there”. Very sweet line about how the wad of hair doesn’t really matter, the time he spends with PB and getting to be her friend is what’s meaningful to him. I like how the pasta has a double meaning. He obviously just shared pasta with her, but he also had a pasta dinner with Bubblegum when she gave him the hair.

Finn’s song is my favorite moment of the series so far, and one of the best scenes ever in the series. I thought “Just Your Problem” was Adventure Time’s best song up to now but it’s then immediately topped. I love everyone participating in the song, especially Marceline singing along with Finn for parts of it. Finn’s song causing even PB and Marcy to harmonize together is great symbolism for Finn helping to bring them back together. Even Jake finally breaks character, he’s too caught up in the moment! Rebecca Sugar drew on her feelings of being a young newcomer when she joined the Adventure Time staff to write this song. Worrying about how your friends see you and if they respect you is another very ubiquitous concern.

The group realizes that the Door Lord showed them that the real treasure is friendship. It’s very cheesy but the contents of the episode does enough to justify it. It’s cool how well the episode ties two themes into this episode: friendship and honesty. The quick cut from the Door Lord happily seeing they got the message to him being bruised and tied up is hilarious. They get their items back, including the famous rock shirt. It’s not at all PB’s style, going to show how much its pure sentimentality means to Bubblegum. The reveal that PB kept the shirt comes as a shock to Marceline. She realizes that Bonnie doesn’t see her as just her problem. Marceline blushing and PB revealing she wears the shirt all the time as pajamas are heavy hints to their romantic pairing. Their interactions in this episode are very queer-coded, even though they aren’t hitting us over the head with it like they do in season 7 onwards. The episode itself gives enough to figure out the broad strokes of Marceline and Bubblegum having a past and a falling out without giving the details, and it’ll be a long time until they are willing to explore it more at all. It’s revealed that Marceline only joined to hang out with them. Beyond reinforcing the theme of friendship, Marceline and PB now know that the other is interested in reforming a connection again, even if Marceline will have to be the one that ends up instigating it.

“What Was Missing” is a fan favorite for good reason. The two musical numbers are the biggest draw and they are incredible. Rebecca Sugar using her own personal experiences to write them makes them feel so raw and personal. It’s some of the most direct the series ever is about Marceline and especially Finn’s thoughts and feelings, with them explicitly singing them. It’s refreshing to get some clear cut insight as the show is usually much more guarded. I wouldn’t want the series to always be this direct, but it's nice to have moments like these every once in a while to help provide insight into their other appearances. The episode is essentially a precursor for Steven Universe. You could slot in Steven for Finn, Pearl for Bubblegum, and Amethyst for Marceline quite easily. I also really like PB in this one! Despite “What Was Missing” having not one, but two characters that are in love with Princess Bubblegum, she gets to shine. It’s definitely more Marceline-heavy, but I like PB standing up for herself, getting to see her side of the conflict, and the return of her quirks with her scientific song. PB and Marceline also have pretty great outfits here, and it’s definitely their most iconic looks besides their default outfits.

Rebecca Sugar has since stated that she wrote PB and Marcy as exes in this episode. She felt their interaction in “Go With Me” read that way. The episode does a great job extrapolating from that brief interaction. According to Rebecca Sugar, she pitched this idea to Adam Muto, who she boarded the episode with, and he approved. They ran this by Pen who also liked it. Cartoon Network forbade the crew from being explicit with it. They still did a good job making it as clear as they could with the restrictions and the fandom picked up on it. Rebecca Sugar wanted to include LGBTQ representation and felt that exploring it through the lens of two exes with a past was the best path to getting it in. Despite it only being subtextual, it was a big deal for 2011.

This episode stirred up quite the firestorm. It’s possibly not a coincidence that it would take almost two years for PB and Marcy to interact again. The Fredator associated Youtube channel Mathematical! posted recaps after the airing of Adventure Time episodes. After the airing of “What Was Missing”, their recap speculated on the possible romantic pairing between Princess Bubblegum and Marceline, interlaced with overtly romantic drawings of Marceline and Bubblegum from character designer and storyboard revisionist Natasha Allegri. As a result, Fredator fired Mathematical! producer Dan Rickmers, deleted the video, and cancelled the Youtube series. Times were different then, but that’s no excuse for such an overreaction. Fred Seibert offered the following explanation:

“Well, I completely screwed up. There’s been chatter on the internet recently about our latest Adventure Time “Mathematical!” video recap that we created, posted, and removed here at Federator. I figure it’s time to clear up the matter. In trying to get the show’s audience involved we got wrapped up by both fan conjecture and spicy fanart and went a little too far. Neither Cartoon Network nor the Adventure Time crew had anything to do with putting up or taking down our latest re-cap. The episode ”What was Missing” remains a terrific short and will be shown again and again just like any other Adventure Time episode. I let us goof in a staggering way and I’m deeply sorry it’s become such a distraction for so many people.” It’s a really weak reasoning as Mathematical! had always been a fan oriented show and that’s what the entire fandom was talking about. Still, I’d expect this from an executive. What was unexpected were Adam Muto’s comments:

“If it was just a fan video there would be no problem at all. The problem was that it was made by a production company actively involved with the show. The video took something that was a possible subtext and declared it, in effect, text and made it seem like the production was actively seeking out input on plot development. That's all there is to it.” Considering Sugar said that Adam Muto agreed with that interpretation, it would have been for the best if he just stayed out of the situation. That’s what Pen Ward did ("It’s hard to comment on that, because there were so many extreme positions taken on it all over the Internet, and it happened so quickly. I don’t really want to comment on it because of that, because there were so many extreme sides taken. It was a big hullaballoo.")

Now that we know Bubbline was in fact the crew’s intention, and it’s since been explicitly canonized, the situation is just even dumber. Dan Rickmer is definitely owed an apology. But what’s really important is the series no longer having to keep their relationship a big secret.

Grade: A+

#adventuretime #adventure time #what was missing #finn and jake #jake the dog #finn the human #princess bubblegum #marceline #bubbline #rebecca sugar

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tokoyamisstuff · 1 month

Text

Breaking Bonds Ch. 6

Synopsis: Rabban and you have a long-due honeymoon on Lankiveil.

Warnings: Masturbation, unprotected sex A/N: I'm not good at writing smut but enjoy this lil' treat either way! 💌

"No man chooses evil for the sake of evil; he only mistakes it for happiness, the good he seeks."

- Mary Wollstonecraft

[Previous Chapter]

There was no going back now - you've long since passed the point of no return. And still, no matter how much time passed, you couldn't shake this nagging conscience off...

...after all, you had selfishly become enamored with a man that had - and still causes - so much misery in the entire Empire and especially your home planet.

To be fair, while the Baron alone decided about the tax height, your husband has at least greatly lifted the burden on his colonies lately, concentrating on gathering ressources instead of harassing the populace. His men were advised to tone it down, and shall a village not be able to provide the demanded amount, they'll have two more chances before there'll be consequences.

That was his way of expressing what he could otherwise never put into words.

Rabban was snoring softly besides your insomniac self, shuffling close enough to wrap his arms around you. He pressed your body against his chest from behind, a content sigh escaping his throat at the feeling of your skin against his.

"Good morning, my Countess" he purrs, nose nuzzling against your neck before tracing kisses across your collarbone. You return the favour, nails tenderly raking across his scalp. "Good morning, my Count."

Your husband's touch soon becomes more eager, groaning shamelessly as his hands wander upwards to massage your breasts, who betray you and stiffen under the touch. "Glossu, you're insatiable."

"To my defense, I've waited more than long enough" he teases, nibbling on your earlobe. His hand rested under your navel just for a brief moment before wanderin downwards. "And besides, we still have an obligation to fulfill."

Your laughter soon turned into pleased moans as well, music in your husband's ears as he slid under the covers, head settling between your spread legs with an almost predatory glint in his eyes.

"Let me wake you up properly, dear."

This whole situation still felt like a bizarre daydream - one your past self would refuse to believe to ever become reality.

A short while back you loathed this wicked man with a passion, were nothing but repulsed and petrified whenever he was near you - but right now you were yearning for his touch at every opportunity.

After that first fateful night spent together marked the beginning of something more intimate, it was also new terrain for both of you.

While you expected a cruel joke, revealing itself just when he'd gain your trust, your husband feared his feelings being used to control him for your own benefit.

Needless to say, neither of it occured.

Maybe you had completely lost your mind, but at this point you couldn't care less - at least that was what you told yourself on this important day.

Since Harkonnen troops had now completely retreated from Arrakis, until your husband would be called to battle he decided to grant you this heartfelt wish of reuniting with your family.

The image of your planet in space was a sight to behold, never ceasing to amaze you. An ice world where seasons would last for years instead of months, known among the galaxy for it's precious whale fur.

From afar, it looked almost as sacred as your father had always described it in his tales.

He was a man of unbreakable faith - at least until the death of your eldest brother on the frontlines of the resistance. Your whole family stopped practicing the religion entirely since then, except for occasional prayers in time of distraught.

After his loss, your father said that god has left this planet the moment House Harkonnen set foot on it.

Whereas you still miss him painfully, the grief strickening to this day, you were also relieved that he did not have to see you like this - his beloved daughter, giving her heart and body up to the enemy.

"Welcome home" Rabban declared as you prepared for the spaceship to land, already preparing to descend towards the planet's surface.

You seemed both aloof and apprehensive at once, so it wasn't long until Rabban offered you his hand as means to placate. "It'll be fine."

Will it be, though?

Since birth you had been among them, attended this farce of a welcome committee alongsides the other natives. It was not a voluntary decision, presence was mandatory.

You remember very well how much you wished to have the courage and throw a rock at your oppressor - but knew what deadly consequences it'd bring for you and everyone else.

Yet right now you were on the other side of the coin, and taking a good look down on yourself - skin bleached through the lack of sunlight and dressed matching to your spouse - you wondered if they'd even differ, or simply see you with the same burning hatred that you felt back then.

"Now arriving: Your beloved rulers, Count and Countess Rabban!"

Eventually you felt nauseous as the shuttle opened and you were greeted with exagerrated fake applause from the capitol, retracting your intertwined hands before anyone could see.

With the planet being currently in spring, bright sunlight hit your face, eyes needing some time to adapt after the eternity you had spent on Giedi Prime.

The Beast looked at you with a mixture of worry and irritation, brushing his fingers over your back yet again you winced away. The current situation made it impossible to bid it any more concern, but your behavior left a bitter aftertaste.

Of course he understood. While in private you could act like lovestruck fools all you want, however it was dangerous to do so in front of witnesses.

Ironic, considering you're officially a married couple.

For that very same reason he was also unable to go too easy on your - otherwise the other Harkonnen's were to notice, and such weakness would not remain unpunished.

However this tiny act of affection might also be interpretated as courtesy among two weds...

...so why did you insist to tear yourself away from him?

As the two of you strutted through the tremulous crowd, accompanied by his best soldiers, he reminisced back to easier times.

Rabban vaguely remembered that at every arrival of his you stood out ouf the crowd - at least to his eye - even long before your ways would actually cross.

Oh, how drunk he got on your fear back then, excited by the defiance he detected in your eyes nonetheless. It was as if your emotions were written right on your forehead and damn, what a feisty little quim, weren't you?

He secretly prayed that one day you'd put those thoughts into practice, commit something so imprudent that he'd have an excuse to drag you into his chambers despite your status. Implementing his own means of punishment, without ever allowing you to escape....

...in hindsight, this might've been a precursor of this strange infatuation after all. Better keep this to himself though - even he knows this isn't exactly considered romantic.

In the midst of the formation your family awaited you - or rather what's left of it. Scatters of a once great bloodline.

Rabban looks over to you, only a silken dress cascading down your body in the shivering breeze. The cold did not seem to bother you at all, in fact the soft glow bestowed you an even more divine beauty.

The serenity you were radiating was slowly crumbling however, as you came to a halt far away from your kneeling loved ones. Seeing them like this felt horribly wrong, a perfect symbolfor the harsh reality of this marriage which you desperately tried to shove back into your head.

You were hesitating, eyes darting helplessly between your husband and relatives. "What are you waiting for?" Rabban speaks in this low, authorative voice of his. "You may leave."

His approval was enough for you to drop the composure together with your remaining dignity, running towards them as you broke out into irrepressible sobbing.

A sinister look decorated Rabban's face as you collapsed into your mother's arms, a dangerous mixture of jealousy and obsession stirring in his mind. He tries to ignore it, internally fights to contain himself for your sake.

You are the stunning image of your mother, he thinks, trying to distract himself with trivial annotations. The children however - your younger siblings, as it seems - he doesn't warm up to that easily. Not really his area in general, but he'll figure out once he has brats of his own. Better not think about it too much, the pending responsibility leaves him with an odd unease.

A girl around five years of age he overhears asking why you were accompanying the 'behemoth', timidly peeking over your shoulder as you had lifted her up. "You know, I can understand every word" he retorts flatly and in perfect Lankiveili. It catched you by surprise, since the Harkonnens on your planet kept mostly to themselves. Of course, as a leader it made perfect sense to at least know the common global language.

Sometimes you forgot that your husband was in fact a sophisticated man, just wildly - intentionally - underestemated.

"Leave my sisters alone!" your younger brother, barely eleven years old, leaped in front of you, a shakily pointing a wooden toy sword at the Beast.

"I thought we got rid of all the males in the Årud bloodline..." Rabban spoke in sadistic amusement, crossing his arms as he assessed the boy. Well, your mother was pregnant back at the time and the Count was not really paying attention the following years. But you wouldn't deliberately make things worse by pointing out his disinterest for politics, knowing he already felt inadequate.

"Please, dear husband" you try to appease him, hands clasping together in a begging manner. "He's just a child. No one's questioning your rule. It's not worth it."

"When I was his age, I already partook in huntings" the Beast harrumphed, face contorting into an almost-snarl. "Killed my grandfather a few years after." He reached out for your brother, who was rooted on spot, cowering in fear...

...and just when you were about to intervene, he put his hand on the boy's head, slightly ruffling his hair. "You have a brave heart. Become a good warrior and make your family proud."

Rabban then turned to you, looking at him absolutely flabbergasted. "Just leave" he spat, waving his men over. "Got important business to take care of. You'd be no help either way."

You crack a smile, tiptoeing to peck a quick kiss on his cheek before turning around, this unexpected public affection left this mountain of a man - and frankly everyone around you - completely baffled.

"What are you looking at, you dogs?!" he shouted at his squad and their chatters ebbed out with his command. "Get. To. Work! Anyone I consider useless, I'll kill on sight."

It wasn't until Rabban and his men were actually gone to run errands for his uncle that your folk was able to breathe freely again, now truly cheering and celebrating your arrival.

You were almost considered a national hero, your marriage being considered the most noble sacrifice, ensuring the prosperity of Lankiveil.

No one dared interacting with you more than necessary, though. It was simply not worth the risk of earning the wrath of the infamous Beast.

"This detestable waste of a mother's love! Threatening a child like that. Did you see how scared your brother was?!"

"Lower your voice" you interrupted your own mother, who felt comfortable enough to verbally lash out at the Beast now that you were in your own four walls. "My husband has eyes and ears everywhere. Just- just be glad he didn't actually do anything."

"Don't tell me what to do, young lady" she scolded you harshly. "You may be our Countess now, but you must never forget-" The words die in her throat, her soft caress of your cheek having pulled your hair far enough back over our shoulder to reveal the choke mark on your neck.

A mere lovebite of some sort - he had a bruising grip, and holding back was never his forte. This is nothing compared to what he's normally capable of, but a sadist remains a sadist.

You want to back away, but your mother got a hold of your wrist, pulling up one of the sleeves only to find more bruises scattered across your arm.

During the act you rarely ever notice - in fact it was rather enjoyable - but how should you tell your mother that the most hated person on this forsaken planet kissed those minor injuries afterwards, mumbling sweet affirmations as his hands draw circles on the sore skin?

She seemed desolate, on the verge of tears and yet may have realized at this moment to better not speak against a man that was capable of practically anything.

"Mother" you assure her, breaking the uncomfortable silence that had settled between you licke a thick haze. "You needn't worry, I promise."

"...if we had been informed of your visit, we would've prepared festives" she croakes as she changes the topic, needs to do so in order to keep her grace. "We'll make up something right away."

Guilt was eating her alive and you knew it - the day when the Baron proposed this alliance, she had to pick between loss and loss.

As a leader, she absolutely chose correctly.

As a mother? Not so much.

All logic asides, it pained you to be reminded that she put the fate of strangers over your own. If your father was still alive, he would've rather let this planet fall into chaos than willingly lose another one of his children to the Harkonnens - if only metaphorically.

To a certain extend you sympathized with Rabban's rage- the feelings of a child abandoned by their own mother.

But then again, what's one ruined life compared to so many others, an entire civilization even?

...and do you truly consider your life to be ruined?

"Sure..." You swallow harshly, try to suppress your emotions to enjoy the scarce time you had with your loved ones. "That sounds wonderful."

Meanwhile Rabban was in the greatest hall of his mansion, slumped on the throne of your ancient monarchs - which he stole it for his private collection long ago.

He tries soothing himself through meaningless pastimes, yet materialistic luxury and fleeting pleasures did not hold the appeal they once had...

...they could not substitute your presence, at last - and without it his thoughts spiraled back to the only coping mechanism he knew: Violence, or worse.

This cannot be love, the feeling he had heard so much about yet never experienced in all his decades of life.

Why would anyone want to feel this way, being so desperate for someone else?

Sadly the attempt to drown his violent urges in expensive beverage only intensified his intrusive thoughts, dampening the little self-control he still possessed. Luckily sober him had all servants informed that he was under no context to be disturbed - otherwise not all of them would make it to sunrise alive.

Wait a second...why did he even fucking care what you'd think of him?

This was his planet, his servants, his everything! And you were his wife! Your whole purpose was to endure and obey each and every of your husband's whims, no matter how depraved!

Shit, this is the exact reason you'll always shy away from him in the end. He just can't get out if his skin - and right now it was itching for blood...

...all just because you were currently not at his side, enjoying yourself with people that were what he could never be for you.

He loathed this godamn ice block of a planet, it's people and rites and especially the fact that he could never replace or even imitate the home your heart has on here.

Now that he saw how you acted with people that you truly loved, it was all obvious to him: You had merely arranged yourself with the circumstances - but would never willingly choose him.

Rabban's frustration wandered right down to his pants, sent an even more pulsing desire straight to his cock as he remembered the ethereal way you walked besides him in that delicate sin of a dress.

Fuck, it's been an eternity singe he's done the work himself - after all, he he had countless women to pick from to tend to this need...

...but he knew damn well that unless it's you, he'd only be left unsatisfied and eventually kill them.

Your husband spread his legs on the throne, pulling back one leathern glove with his teeth while the other squeezed the hardened member swelling beneath his belt.

Growling moans he had bit back until now fell casually from his lips as he pulled his dick from it's confines, gripping the angry shaft fiercely. Swiping across the slid already leaking precum, he intended to make a quick end of it.

His eyes fell shut, head rolling back as he tried dwelling in pleasant memories of your naked form beneath him, the way you moaned his name like a sacred prayer each time you came undone.

"Shit, Y/N..." he rambled out, grunts and groans mixing with incoherent Harkonnen swear words as he eagerly stroked himself.

"Yes, my Count?"

The sudden appearance of your voice made his blood run cold, eyes snapping open only to catch your silhouette in the doorframe, calmly watching the scene unfolding before you.

His face instanty dropped into stern hostility, peering at you like he was considering murder as nerest solution to escape this humiliation.

"What the hell are you doing here?!" he barks, not yet bothering to cover himself as to not admit his embarassment. "Enjoying the view, I guess."

"Bitch" he thought, contemplating to shove his cock down your throat just to make you shut up. Albeit you strode towards him keenly, a smug smile playing on your lips when his manhood twitches at your approach.

"You seem stressed, my love..." you chant oh so alluring in his ear as you lean over him, the nickname pulling at his heartstrings. "I can change that."

There was something so fundamentally wrong with doing it right here, giving yourself to an oppressor right on the throne of your people...

...maybe Rabban had already corrupted you, because that fact was exactly why it aroused you enough to discard all morality in exchange for temporary carnal pleasure.

All you knew was that right now you were in charge - and the very man that had done so much wrong was literally wax in your hands.

Irony of fate, one would say.

Your fingers teasingly ghost across his shaft and Rabban lets out a noise of both disapproval and desperation, hips bucking against your palm to find some release. "I missed you" you speak, invitingly batting your lashes.

"Stop lying" this utter wretch spat weak, tentatively, the lust in your scent feeling like being stabbed. You smile down on him in return, unimpressed by his vocal attempts to push you away.

His defense falters as you straddle his waist, kissing him with an affection like he was something precious and not in fact the most despicable person you've ever met. "I'm not lying, Glossu."

He wants to say something, anything, but his throat closes, a torn-out sob being all he manages to wring out.

Primal need takes the wheel again when you push your panties aside, folds sliding across his member in preparation and god you were so wet already, just for him.

Both of you sighed in relishment as you lowered yourself on his cock, meekly clawing into his shoulder as you adjusted to his size. Meanwhile Rabban's hands busied themselves on your ass, back, thighs, every damn inch of skin he can get while his hips chase yours.

The Beast kisses your pulse point as he pulls you impossibly close, face hidden in the crook of your neck so you won't see how he falls apart right in front of you. Yet your name keeps erupting from his lips as you ride him, not yet a plea but certainly endearing.

He holds you in an almost bonecrushing hug as you ride him, your tits spilling so scrumptiously out of your cleavage that he can't help but sink his teeth into the thin fabric, earning an ecstatic yelp in return. Soon his tongue dives into your mouth in exasperation, only ever breaking the kiss when the lack of oxygen became too hard to bear.

As the pace speeds up your husband finally brings himself to watch you grind on his crotch, the view enough to drive him over the edge. Both awe and passion wash over him in the tidal wave that was his orgasm, so much pulsing inside of you it borders on obscene.

Even long after overstimulation followed his peak, he couldn't stop the jackknife-like thrusts into your sensitive cunt as your high chased right after his.

Who wouldve thought that sex filled with laughter instead of cries could be this...enjoyable?

An odd tranquility sets above the two of you, remaining in the position for a while before either of you dared to move.

"Convinced now?" you ask between short, ragged breaths, heart fluttering while his practically beat like a drum.

"Dunno" he hums playfully, sweaty foreheads stuck together as he mirrowed your smile. "We might have to repeat this a few times, just to be sure."

Both of you broke our in boisterous laughter and you nudge his side, chuckling some sweet nonsense about him being insufferable.

"SERVANT" You almost fell down from the seat by surprise, and Rabban yelled for no one in particular once again. Panicking, you wanted to pop off his softening member and hide - yet your husband had other plans, still holding you tight.

"Nah -ah -ah" he gurred with a shiteating grin on his face as he felt his pride returning. "We don't want you to waste a single drop of my precious seed, don't we?"

Asshole. He really was incorrigible at times...

Gladly your dress had fallen down to your hips, far enough to cover your priavtes yet not enough to hide the peculiar embrace the two of you still shared.

"A partnership is no fight for dominance, you know?" you whisper as a maidservant entered - an elderly Lankiveilan woman looking down in unease. You wanted to be swallowed by the earth right then, being seen defiled by the enemy in front of one of your own people.

Oh, you just knew he was enjoying showing off what was rightfully his, didn't he?

"Just playful banter" he promised, hands still lazily roaming your body. "Run us a bath" he orders, "Then get lost. And leave some new attire at the door."

The servant nods and commits her work in silence, shooting you one last, pitying look before she disappeared as fast as she came. Rabban insisted on carrying you to the magnificent bathroom, sinking into the relaxing scented water and pulling you to his chest once again as he began to ponder.

For once he got what he wanted without taking it by force - you returned to him out of your own free will...

...and what an amazing feeling that was.

By Harkonnen logic, he should be terrified of the effect you have on him, put a stop to it immediately - all of what happened was considered pathetic weakness in his culture, nothing more than a flaw.

But damn it, he wouldn't trade it for the world.

"What are you brooding about?" you ask, fingertips tracing the several scars on his chest. "Why are you really here? Surely you did not just come for...this."

You snort in amusement, joking "I thought I'd look after my husband, before he gets bored and blows something up."

The Beast grinned at your words, allowing himself some sort of vulnerability as he seeks your reassurance. "I thought you'd seek the comfort of your old home."

His words made you furrow your brows in confusion, almost offended by his assumption. "This is my home now" you answer firmly, pressing a wet kiss to his knuckles. "You are."

The answer pleases him as it seems, pulling you in for another kiss, limbs tangled with each other in an inescapable embrace.

"Perhaps you want to accompany me tonight?" Your husband had helped you out of the now cold water, having stayed there until your discomfort became greater than the joy of closeness. "The people of the capitol will hold a small festival."

Rabban seemed bewildered, insulted even at the suggestion. "Why should I bother with those savages? This is beneath me." You roll your eyes at the man, not wanting to hear that belittlement for your culture coming from people who hunt others for sports.

Quickly towel-drying your hair before slipping into traditional clothes rather than the one he had picked out for you, he swallows the frustration of this separation through your different styles.

"Maybe because your wife is one of those 'savages', and so are you. You're half Lankiveili, hell, you even carry one of our names!" you correct him, pointing an index finger directly at his face just for him to gently slap it away. "You've been born and raised here, not on Giedi Prime."

"So?" he retorts matter-of-factly, glaring at you. "A dog born in a stable still doesn't nicker." You almost facepalmed, unnerved by his blatant stubbornness. "But you can't deny your blood. Your mother-"

"Was a Bene Gesserit, first and foremost." Rabban interrupted you, tired with the discussion already though he elaborates. "Their children are nothing more to them than means to an end."

There was a subtle hint of disappointment in his voice, one you could very well resonate with. "But- I mean, you weren't useful to her, right? Hence the younger brother."

Wow. That sounded way less insulting in your head - and you were sure had anyone else but you pointed this out, they'd been six foot under already.

"Thanks for the reminder that I'm inferior to my brother in every way" he gritted, not seeing the point of this useless conversation. You looked at him sympathically, cupping his face with both hands but he turned away in anger. "N-No, I didn't mean it like that. I-"

Well, things can't get any worse than this. Might as well speak your mind. "Bene Gesserit are ordered to kill genetically undesirable children immediately after birth..."

You see him clench and unclench his fists, but take his hand and intertwine your fingers with his. "...and yet you're here. What do you think that means? She loved you dearly, I'm sure of it."

He twirls you into his arms, effectively shutting you up with a breathtaking kiss. Your lips searched his again as soon as he pulled away, yet he already went for the door.

"Alright alright, I'm feeling generous today. We'll go. Just don't complain if I ruin the mood."

That very same evening, your husband participated in the festival with you - well, more or less. He mainly remained on the sidelines, following you like a shadow and eyes shooting daggers at everyone looking at you for too long.

His soldiers he had warded off to another place, so they'd leave your people alone for tonight - and als that there wouldn't be any witnesses to his tameness.

This whole parade reminded him of a rather unpleasant part of his childhood, what it means to be born in between two worlds and fully belonging to neither.

Many years ago his mother, Emmi Rabban, had dragged him to such an event in an attempt to make her son embrace his heritage.

People would look at him with revulsion and hostility - a natural reaction, considering his Harkonen outerior, even though he was a mere child back then. He used to tell himself the mantra that being feared something to be proud of, more reliable than some feeble goodwill.

Ultimatively, when one of the other children started throwing rocks at young Rabban, he saw red...

...and like so often, only when his anger subsided and he returned to his senses, the adults were able to pull him away from the bloody heap he had beaten the other into.

It was not the first time his mother had looked at him that way: Shame, disappointment, fear of her child and what he was capable of. Regret of having kept him alive, if your theory was true.

This core memory only strenghtened his taunting disconnection and self-loathing.

After that day, Rabban's mother had stopped bringing him anywhere public at all. Kept him trapped at home as often as possible, like a feral animal restrained by a cage.

And yet here he was again, watching you enjoy yourself as you sang and danced in the streets, never breaking eye-contact and gifting him the sweetest of smiles. Whenever you returned to his side, you clung to his arm and babbled about whatever, not minding what your precious subjects or even your own family might think of you...

...kissing him so openly, so deeply, as if you were proud to be his wife, despite everything.

Maybe this planet wasn't that bad, all things considered.

"You know, you could stay here. Until I secured Arrakis for your arrival, I mean" he promised solemny later that night, as you warmed each other under the sheets. "And I'll take you to Lankiveil as often as I can."

Rabban's offer made you stirr in your almost-slumber, witnessing his pale face glow more lively under the chimney's embers. "Why would you do that for me?"

The question caught him off guard, fumbling with his words. "Don't mock me, woman. This is the first time I felt something like this. Its...difficult for me, to say the least."

"Well, I'm grateful for the offer" you mumble sleepily, guiding his hands to rest on your hip. "But my place is at my husband's side."

After this long and eventful day it was no wonder you couldn't stay up for much longer, the security your husband's hug provided guiding you into a sweet slumber.

Rabban lets out a shaky breath, unable to fathom how he deserved feeling such bliss. He covers you with the blanket, waits until your breathing pattern indicates you're fast asleep until he dares speaking his mind.

"I love you, Y/N" he whispers, feeling a profound sense of happiness encase him after confessing this - mostly to himself.

#dune #dune part two #glossu rabban #beast rabban #glossu rabban / reader #beast rabban / reader #self insert #writing #rape tw

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slippery-domjot-balls · 10 months

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Our Man Bashir S4 E10

Saw this episode for the first time this week. There were so many little touches that made the episode a perfect parody of the Bond aesthetic. It payed tribute to classic James Bond (Sean Connery and it even teased the silly nature of Roger Moore's Bond).

The opening sequence of a villain crashing through glass with a follow up KO by the champagne cork was a lovely campy tribute. It had a Our Man Flint with James Coburn vibe! Try those if you like Bond parodies.

The Bondesque portrayal of Bashir works well. It both fits the desire he has to be heroic, to be more alluring and charismatic, and to take confidence in life outside the holosuite. Julian already is those things though. He just needs help realizing that sometimes. He was heroic in Hippocratic Oath when he stood for the lost Jem'Hadar. In his medical domain he is charismatic and in charge. All of his interactions with Garak show his subtle and alluring personality. He is on his journey of gaining confidence and with each passing episode he gains more self-esteem.

We all were admiring Julian just like Garak is. Look at that sweet face. Garak recognizes Julian's chance at character growth as his spy persona. By taking him under his wing, Garak can help him develop as a man of mystery!

The clothing is also perfect. Fashion was nailed for a Bond film parody. The high class tuxedos and the casual sweaters! We only missed out on the incredibly short-short-short-swim-shorts that Sean Connery seemed to love.

Miles as the main evil henchman was an excellent choice. Silly falcon eyepatch was just a bonus. It was nice to see a little spy gadget used by Bashir as well. Gotta have those!

I will make of gif of it later, but Worf blew a genuine smoke ring at one point. The white tux also looked amazing. More Klingons should wear white! It would be great for battle too. Showcases all the blood of their enemies.

Another A+ costume designed by the fabulous Trek Costume designers. The flair, the jewelry, all just works with that stunning Bajoran. She also played the Russian accent really well (not that I am an accent expert). Underneath this holosuite persona though we still enjoy Nana Visitor's warm smile. Nothing can stop her from making all our hearts melt!

Dr. Honey Bare....of course there would be a silly name like that. I wish Dax's character was treated less as plot device, but as a parody of older Bond movies I see the placement and and ridiculousness of it. It did feel like the cast enjoyed making fun of it.

This gem....I cannot even begin to state my delight over this single high pitched chort....giggle...laugh? What even is it? I knew of this gif out of context but now having seen the episode I see that Sisko was the deranged villain set out to destroy the world so he could create his human 2.0 sex island.

Above all of this, we must give the spotlight to the REAL hero. Rom. He is an absolute genius!!!! I love that he is so intelligent. Sure, Lt. Mr. Little Boy Eddington was there too, Odo helped a bunch, and Quark wanted to show off his jacket, but Rom saved the day. Rom singlehandedly saved the entire main cast. On the fly he rigged up an engineering masterpiece in a Frankenstein's monster way. Under incredible pressure with try or die high stakes, he pioneered a solution. I sure hope that Rom can be the star of the show more often in the coming seasons. He is a brilliantly written Ferengi and a well acted character. A loving and supportive father, caring brother, talented engineer, and an all around good friend to everyone.

For me, this episode surprisingly became a "wow, I love Rom" episode. Of course, I enjoyed and can see how iconic and quintessentially Star Trek the entire Bond tribute plot was, but this episode is about Rom for me as much as it is about Bashir and anything else.

I am glad that I can share my first watch of DS9 with all you lovely people. Thank you for sharing all your insights and passion for DS9 and Star Trek as a franchise with me.

Here is to many more shared laughs and warm moments together!

#our man bashir #star trek ds9 #deep space nine #julian bashir #garak #worf #benjamin sisko #jadzia dax #kira nerys #rom #quark #miles o'brien #michael eddington #pictures courtesy of trekcore.com #thank you all you lovely trek fans

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coinandcandle · 2 years

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Samhain

Crisp air like a freshly picked apple and leaves the colors of sunset indicating the ending of a season; here comes Autumn and with it a very popular pagan holiday: Samhain!

This is a remake of my original Samhain post. This one is going to be a long one so buckle up!~

While us those in the northern hemisphere are celebrating Samhain, our friends in the southern hemisphere will be celebrating Beltane!

Historical Samhain

The name “Samhain” (pronounced Sah-when) comes from the Old Irish samain which literally means “Summer’s end” as it was created using Old Irish sam ”Summer” and fuin ”end” (etymonline.com).

By now I’m sure you’ve guessed Samhain’s origin, it’s a Celtic* festival, one of four major holidays.

**In this post when I refer to “Celts” or “Celtic people” I am referring only to the Insular Celts, more specifically the Gaelic-speaking Celts. To learn the difference between Celtic and Gaelic please read this article

For these Celts, Samhain was the beginning of the new year. Due to the oral nature of the culture, not much is known about the traditions of Samhain, though we have some documentation from other cultures as well as some ideas from historians as to what they may have done.

Traditions

The traditions of Samhain may vary by group or even by family, but one common tradition was to have a large, public sacred bonfire. (Fun fact, the term “Bonfire” comes from the English “bonefire” meaning literally “a fire of bones”). During these bonfires, the Celts would sacrifice livestock and crops as offerings to their deities.

Households would extinguish their hearth fires earlier that day and would take the flame from the public bonfire to reignite their hearths. This was likely to represent renewal or new beginnings as they transitioned to the new year as well as a representation of community.

The veil between this world and other worlds is thought to be very thin on Samhain, making it easier not only for us to reach out to spirits, deities, and the like, but for them to reach out to us. These otherworldly beings are thought to be able to influence our world more powerfully during Samhain.

In some places, like Britanny, they believed that the dead would visit their living friends and relatives during this time.

In Welsh tradition, people would leave out food, leave doors unlocked, and prepare the house for the spirits of relatives that may come to visit.

Large turnips were hollowed out and would have faces carved into them and then place on window sills to ward off evil spirits.

In other places, like Scotland, Samhain was a time for mischief. Young men would dress up as spirits, donning masks, painting their faces, or wearing costumes.

Divination was very popular during this time, especially marriage divination. This wasn’t just done by druids but by the common folk as well.

In some places, it was considered taboo to forage for fruit or grain during and after Samhain, it was thought that the fae or spirits would have passed over and tainted them. There were even laws against doing so.

Notes

Samhain is the Irish name for the month of November.

Samhain is one of the four main holidays of the ancient Celts, the other three are Beltane, Lughnasadh, and Imbolc.

Pigs were the choice of sacrificial animal for Samhain.

Samhain was a sacred time that often welcomed assemblies and would be used to settle important business matters like the inauguration of new kings, debts being paid, and trials.

In Celtic mythology, the Second Battle of Mag Tuired begins on Samhain.

Trick-or-treating is a modern-day tradition but could have derived from the many different traditions of old.

The Cailleach is a seasonal goddess said to rule the “dark” side of the year (fall and winter) and would rule between Samhain and Beltane. Likewise, the goddess Brigid would rule the “light” side of the year between Beltane and Samhain.

While Wiccans may celebrate Samhain as part of their Wheel of the Year, it is not a Wiccan-specific holiday and has ties to much older traditions.

Modern Halloween is an amalgamation of Samhain and the Christian All Hallows’ Eve or All Saints’ Day and All Souls’ day. Halloween found its popularity after many Celts immigrated to North America.

Similar to these holidays is Día de los Muertos (Day of the Dead) which originated in Mexico. This holiday reunites the living and the dead, allowing the spirits of loved ones to cross back over to our world for a short period of time. Families will make altars and give offerings to those who have passed. Festivities and celebrations are held during this time. It is traditionally held on November 1st or 2nd but is celebrated on October 31st or November 6th depending on the location.

Modern Samhain

As long as you’re aware of and honor the history of Samhain and are being respectful you can celebrate this holiday however you choose!

Here is a list of correspondences and the like that I found throughout my research for Samhain, some have historical backing and others don’t. Take what speaks to you and leave what doesn’t.

Food

Mead, beer, and mulled wine

Meat

Bread, soul cakes, pies, and other such pastries.

Apples, squash, and potatoes.

Colcannon

Soul cakes

Barmbrack

Colors

Warm colors such as red, orange, brown, and yellow.

Black

Dark green

Rocks & Metals

Onyx

Obsidian

Citrine

Hematite

Carnelian

Smoky quartz

Tiger’s eye

Ruby

Copper

Jet

Plants

Rosemary

Thyme

Vervain

St. John’s Wort

Mugwort

Dragon’s blood

Saffron

Deities

The Morrigan

The Dagda

The Morrigan and The Dagda seem to be the main deities for Samhain as per Celtic mythology but you could also choose to honor any Celtic deity or even other deities on this day, especially those involving liminality and death such as:

Cerunnos

Diana

Anubis

Hecate

Heimdall

Here are more liminal deities and here are more death deities.

Magic & Spellwork

Spirit work: honoring or communicating with spirits

Banishing and cleansing (out with the old and in with the new!)

Honoring ancestors

Activities

Bonfire

Fest

Baking

Decorating or creating an altar for Samhain

Other Correspondences

Tarot: Death, The World

Death in the Tarot often means “the end of something with the promise of something new on the horizon”, and represents transition the perfect card for a holiday of similar sentiment.

The World tarot card indicates cycles, closure, and completion.

Zodiac: Scorpio

It’s Scorpio season!

Runes: Fehu, Eihwaz

Fehu can represent new beginnings.

Eihwaz represents transformation, out with the old and in with the new, which pairs well with the ancient Celtic new year.

Androgyny

In Samhain's past, it wasn’t uncommon for men to dress in traditionally women’s clothes and women to dress in traditionally men’s clothes. While the social idea of gender is shifting and we don’t gender clothes as often in some modern societies, we can still use this as a way of celebration. Androgyny is like the liminal version of gender, neither male nor female. So trans witches or gender non-conforming witches of all flavors: show yourself some extra love this coming Samhain holiday!

References and Further Reading

The Ancient Origins of Halloween - History.com

Samhain - Worldhistory.com

Halloween Customs in the Celtic World - by Bettina Arnold

Samhain - Wikipedia

Samhain - Flying the hedge

Secular Celebrations - Samhain - @breelandwalker

#samhain #witchcraft #witchy holidays #pagan holidays #halloween #spooky season #pagan #grimoire #witchblr #celtic paganism #celtic #celtic witchcraft

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toilandtroubled · 2 months

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Hi Grace! Your latest gifset was so beautiful! What can you tell us about the story?

Thank you so much for asking!

The fic is titled “Vagabonds” and while it has seven different POV characters, it follows three distinct storylines. Let’s start with Florys as she is who I would call the main main character.

Florys Daulton was raised on the Stony Shore in the North by her uncle Branston Daulton and his family, as her parents both died at different points in the rebellion. Despite being raised with her father’s family, Florys is the heir to her mother’s family lands and titles once her aunt who currently rules passes away. Being raised by family, but still as something of an outlier, she never felt like she truly belonged anywhere. Always lonely, and haunted by the circumstances of her birth, Florys was notoriously prone to melancholy and isolation. The story starts in season one shortly before Robb calls his banners and Florys travels to Winterfell and then south with her uncle and his hosts, planning to foster with her aunt throughout the War. However, for various reasons Florys’s plans go awry and she is sent away from her aunt’s on something of a quest to reach her cousin Gareth Daulton who is a brother of the Night’s Watch. However, this means having to venture through the war-torn Riverlands and through the bitter North which is at that point being ravaged by the ironborn. When she eventually reaches the Wall and reunites with her cousin, she also reunites with Jon Snow, who she had known for a year in her youth when she fostered with two of her cousins at Winterfell. And that’s only the beginning of her story.

Next we have Maric Snow, raised alongside Florys on the Stony Shore, but sharing no bloodlines. Maric is a unique case of being a bastard born of a married noblewoman who was allowed to remain in her husband’s castle as part of the family unit. Maric’s relationship with his step-father Lord Branston is constantly strained and deeply complex as he feels equal parts resentful and grateful to him. He is the Golden Boy of the family, despite his birth, and is the most accomplished rider, swordsman, and jouster, not to mention his calm and charming wit. When the Starks march south, Maric runs from the fight in the first battle of the war (the whispering wood) and takes up with a marauding pirate crew. He goes on a long and inconsistent arc as he tries to content with his mistakes, make amends, face his fears, only to constantly fall back into cowardice and vice just when it might matter most that he grows. If he ever does…well that’s the question, isn’t it?

Now we have Yvaine Sand, a Dornish bastard of House Dayne, she was the illegitimate daughter of the famed Sword of the Morning. Yvaine was never treated poorly by her family, or as less than, and was encouraged to pursue all the education and experiences of a noble dornishwoman. This suited her, as she was graceful, intelligent, and as clever with her words as her silences. As she grew, she also learned to fight, and became a remarkable swordswoman, hoping she might one day hold the title that was all she ever knew of her father. Until one day when her dreams are crushed and she’s asked to deliver that legendary sword Dawn to a boy on the Wall, a quest that nearly claimed her life as she and her merchant fiancé set off north, only to be swept East by a storm that lands them in numerous perilous circumstances. And once she finally makes it to the Wall, she finds much more than she bargained for.

If you want to know more about the story or individual characters, please ask!

#original character #game of thrones fanfiction #a song of ice and fire fanfiction #asoiaf #my ocs #fic title: vagabonds

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paladin-of-nerd-fandom65 · 4 months

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Pretty good answers, happy new year! 🥳 here’s the first questions of 2024! :D

1: since Jake & mar’i are descendants of a feline race, would it make sense to have a fear of dogs or at least the bigger ones?

2: what does the duo do on New Year’s Eve?

3: does the duo do anything special on New Year’s Day or is that day treated like any other day?

4: what’s one secret does the duo have, besides the obvious stuff like secret identities? Like Chris saw Kon scratching his butt and sniffing it & Kon tells Chris don’t tell the others for example.

5: what’s their sense of humor like? Besides the silver age puns they like to do?

6: here’s season 3 of Superman & Lois rewrite: after the battle with Zod, mysterious purple kryptonite came into the world from the phantom zone; which gave regular people powers, Bruno mainhuim, the crime boss of metropolis, mange to grab a hold of it & turn it into a drug (which is X-kryptnite, in the series) & sold it like how normal drugs are sold. A group of bullies at Jons & Chris’s school mange to get some (because of plot lol) & either bully Chris & Jon at school or become a group of small super villains that robs bank & pick on anybody weaker than them. Of course Superman, Nightwing, & superboy stop them, with Chris & Jon doing bullying tatics as a sort of karma & irony like wedgies & diping their heads in puddles of water. The season ends with Bruno being stop and put in jail & all the purple kryptnite being destroyed or lock in the fortress.

And now, about four days after the first day lol, here’s the first answers of 2024 @pin-crusher2000 ;-)

1) While it’s a common thought among many who take note of that genetic lineage, since Jake has Haley aka Bitewing as his canine companion and gets along well enough with both Krypto and Ranger whenever The Kents bring them up, it’s more dependent on how used to the dogs in question Mar’i and Jake are. Basically, like with real cats and dogs living together, it depends on how long they know each other and how used to each other’s company they are.

2) It’s a massive gathering at Titans Tower where both Graysons and Kents visit, along with all the other Titans International, the Batfamily, even some Justice Leaguers and JSA members. The Duo usually stick next to their fellow StarKnights, hanging out in Dick’s own room and talking about their plans for the year ahead of them. Once it comes time for the Big Countdown, every single person there is gathered at the Ops Room to watch. Once Midnight hits, Chris and Jake take the karaoke set and do an impromptu show of their favorite songs for the crowds. The Duo themselves stay up at least until around 2 am since the day after was still in Winter Break for them

3) As for the following New Year’s Day, I can see the Duo take it relatively slow. First after helping with clean up efforts from last night, they’d be at the Grayson apartment, in Jake’s room making a small New Year live stream and play through of some old games, mainly the Pipeworks Godzilla Trilogy (Destroy All Monsters Melee, Save the Earth and Unleashed). They would of course invite Meredith and Thara for the chat. Finally for the night, they’d go on a quick patrol across Bludhaven, taking down any smaller crime activity and pulling over drunk drivers before wrapping it all up and getting rest for tomorrow.

4) I say Chris once confessed to Jake of one time he let a little piglet from the barnyard into his room after it got spooked by a passing thunderstorm despite usually animals not being allowed in besides the dogs. Clark was the only one who found out about it and allowed Chris to keep that pig with him for the night, later making small renovations to the barn so the sounds of thunder would be muffled and not scare animals like said piglet as much anymore.

On a more funny note, Jake in turn tells his best friend one time attempts watching R Rated horror flick on Halloween at Midnight. Like so R Rated and horrifying, even grown adults were reported to faint when it first came out in theaters. Needless to say, Jake shutting down the tv and making a run for his bed all happens within less then five minutes. Just how for once Dick wasn’t able to deduce who put that movie in the dvd player that night is nothing short of astonishing as far as Jake’s concerned.

5) Besides from the intentional puns in the battlefield and the unintentional slapstick they do to themselves, the Duo primarily like the art of riffing and snarking. This especially shows itself when on some nights they hang out, sometimes with some of their friends, they’d watch some old cheesy 1950s-1970s B movies, having a good laugh at the hokey performances, bizarre plots, and just plain bad special effects. It’s a tradition Jake inherited from Dick who would do the same some nights with his own birth father John. For reference of that act, look up Mystery Science Theater 3000 and that’ll clarify things a bit.

6) Ah something simple and yet can involve all three main Supers. Maybe for a subplot that eventually congeals naturally into the main plot has Lois be the first to notice the change in some people on the streets who received their newfound superpowers, putting her journalism skills to use. If anything, elevating her status with in the Daily Planet as a successor to Perry White

I like it A Lot

#chris kent #jake grayson #starburst duo #new year #Meredith Robinson #thara ak var #dick grayson #superman and lois #clark kent #jonathan samuel kent #lois lane

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firstagent · 1 year

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Digimon Ghost Game #67 Review

When you’re piecing together what the ideal Ghost Game ending would look like, there’s quite a bit to cover. More than can fit into one episode for sure. The finale solves this in two ways. One is limiting the climactic battle to only its key spots, throwing out bombastic traditions like super-final evolutions that look amazing but cover ground that can be accomplished more efficiently. The second is to speedrun through all the explanations as fast as possible to conserve time for the good stuff. That part of it is as rushed and confusing and absolutely wild as you would expect, especially since there’s way more to everything than we could have anticipated. But when the result of these time-saving measures is a first act with so much heart and a second act featuring Hiro finally acting on the dream he’d been idealizing all series, why let a little thing like a surprise alien conspiracy ruin our fun?

After the Siriusmon vs. Regulusmon showdown last episode, it was appropriate to do a reset and make the fight what it really has been all along: a psychological conflict for control. Gammamon’s trying to preserve his world, Regulusmon is destroying it, and Hiro jumps in to lead his little brother to the light. This has been a mind game between Gammamon and GulusGammamon the entire time, and rather than escalate the physical conflict, treating it as a fight within their headspaces works. Even when Gammamon frees himself and we’re back to duking it out, it’s he and Hiro winning through all of his forms rather than some massive power. GulusGammamon is allowed to live—the show’s just pacifist like that—and Gammamon passing along Hiro’s rule-setting is a lovely payoff.

Fast forwarding through all the alien doomsday prophecies and weak closure on the dark Digimon surrounding Gulus (this is why some shows just don’t bother explaining things) and we end up with string-puller Quantumon declaring that research on human-Digimon interactions (courtesy BlackTailmon) shows that the two mingling is hopelessly toxic, fated for disaster, and the two worlds must be severed immediately. Hiro and friends do what they’ve been doing all season: they use words and reason. Rather than live in fear of a far-off disaster, they want to spend time with their Digimon and work to create a world where the two can co-exist peacefully. Of all the things repeated through the show that needed to pay off here, none was more important than Hiro pondering what such a world would look like. And as annoying as it was that he never worked towards that before, he and the others defiantly demand it here. Then they follow through by actively putting in the work, making noise, and turning this into everyone’s problem. Without saying as much, this world is what every major character had been striving for this entire time, and embracing the immense challenge of creating it is as well suited an ending as Ghost Game could have received.

Initial Grade: A-

Want to support my site and/or my work? Buy me a coffee!

#digimon #digimon ghost game #quick reaction

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yennasun · 1 year

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A battle of wills

Summary: second, against all odds, had coaxed the retired MT out of his searing hate for the USFC. He'd finally gotten the ex-champion in his corner as his mentor and trainer, passing down all of his wisdom to the young contender. Second had garnered a reputation as an explosive knockout artist but many had doubted his stamina, a power puncher never lasts into the late rounds, right?

Thwack

The sound rumbled through the air as the top contender's body had went limp and collapsed, the knockout had been highlight-reel worthy.

The two had traded right hands and stepped in, but second had stepped off at an angle while he threw his left hook, the other man threw his at the same time but seconds superior speed and advantageous angle ensured he caught him clean.

The ref didn't even count. He simply took one look at his fallen foe and waved the fight off.

He walked back to his corner, worried for his opponent but satisfied with the win, MT said that the worry was a part of "the game."

"There'll come a point where you'll realize that they sighed up for this, same way you did. Whatever happens to them, they know it's always a possibility just as you do."

"And what about the slaves, the ones who DIDNT sign up for this?"

MT Drew upon his own experience, all those crippling knockouts he'd committed out of fear of what would happen if he didn't

"Then you'd better be ready to fight to the death, in their eyes it's their life or yours. Spare them no mercy, I promise they wouldn't do the same for you."

Like a prophecy, MTs words had come true. The champ was one such person.

MT lectured him as second trained.

"This guy is serious business, he's not some cookie-cutter paper champ waiting for a fresh young up-and-comer like you to take him out."

As he trained, second took in the words. He would never make the mistake of being overconfident, no matter how much hype was around him, which was alot to say the least.

He was the new big draw, They'd began to call him the next mango, the next legend ever since the terror's mysterious disappearance...if only they knew who was training him.

"You can't ever tell anyone who I am, should you make a public appearance."

"Why not?"

"..."

"I can't tell you that just...just do as I ask, please."

He'd used his uncanny power to bruise his way to an 88-0 record, none of his fights had gone the distance, 88 perfect knockouts. Even still, he had his doubts...

The words played through his head, the past drowning out the present while he trained on autopilot.

After some time, he came back to reality and caught MT mid-sentence.

"-is a down-in-the-trenches, rough and tough S.O.B, who's been seasoned by fire. I want you to treat this like a match between gladiators, be ready to dig deep within yourself to find the mental and physical fortitude to finish this fight."

"Yes coach." Second continued punching before MT stopped him.

"Alright, it's been 2 hours. Let's go for a run." MT got his gear on and the two left the gym him and green designed, they stepped outside and the crisp air and surrounding bright green forest nearly alleviated seconds worries.

The two started at a brisk jog, and MT continued. Seconds nerves came back in waves, more like one bid tsunami.

"This man is dangerous, he's one of the most well-conditioned fighters I've seen in recent years, he can go and go and keep going..." seconds worries were starting to mount more, he didn't need this right now.

He picked up his pace, running from his doubts more than he was MT.

"-he'll keep going even when you can't, he'll try and break you mentally, make you lose your will to fight!" MT caught up to him, his voice hardening with intensity.

Now second had taken off in a sprint.

Second had kept sprinting for minutes, sure he'd lost mt. Until...

"He hits hard, very hard! And his body attack is brutal, tailor-made to sap your energy! And he won't take you out in one punch, he'll beat you slowly over the course of the fight! Not only that, but he's tough as a boulder. I've seen his tapes, and he shrugs off blows that would level a building!" Second snapped

"Then what do you want me to do about it!?" He yelled, more of an accusation than a question.

"That's what I'm trying to teach you. Even when your body and mind can take no more, to March on off of sheer force of will." Second knew what mango was talking about, not from personal experience, but rather, from mangos experience.

Mango didn't know, but second knew his secret. Searching through the fight records of the best fighters of the early 2000s, almost all of them had one little blemish on their records, all to mango.

So he dug up the decrepit and forgotten corpse of mangos career that he never told second and sat slack-jawed.

He then looked for any footage of his fights and found a highlight reel as big as a feature-length film.

He knew what mango was talking about. He just didn't understand how he did it, taking such horrible maulings but still coming out on top in the end. He nearly pissed himself just watching the beatings mango would take.

But he always thrashed back, always came back somehow. He simply out-willed his opponents.

Shutting his laptop, he promised himself he'd never tell anyone. He was naive, but not stupid. He must have had a reason to not tell anyone.

Now he dug MTs fights up once again, trying to study whatever he could off of his mentor. The footwork, angles, defense and punch selection were nothing new, much less what second was looking for. He was searching for all the moments mango had to "dig deep" to pull a win out his ass, searching for anything that connected each instance together.

And then he found it, when mango had to go through the trenches, when he was dead tired...his opponent was tired too, it was less of a battle between a tired man and a fresh one, and more of a battle of wills from two exhausted fighters who want nothing more than to win.

He knew he'd have to do something different, this guy wasn't gonna go down like the rest.

In the following weeks, mango had second training at a psychotically high rate that would earn a wink and a smile from his creator. He took all the necessary steps so that second could accomplish his dreams, but he also had second working defense to lessen the damage he'd take.

He had second training in clinch-fighting, the art of tying someone's arms up at close range, smothering and stifling their punches while putting yourself into a position to slip tight punches through.

"The best positions to be in against a volume puncher like this, is either too far for him to catch you, or too close to get you with anything worthwhile." Mango had to him

Mango still had alot to prove, with everything he did and all the secrets he kept, second and the others were right to not fully trust him.

That said, second trusted his intuition to fighting as though he were a scholar in it.

But he needed more than tactics to stifle his opponents unending barrage of punches, he need to prepare to get hit.

Luckily, The medicine balls were also made very useful. This person was a body puncher, so he had to get second prepared for the agony he'd surely have to endure.

Whenever second would get tired, not exhausted, tired, he'd be there to push him that last little bit. Eventually he even stopped doing that.

I won't be there to push him while he's fighting...

Sure, he'd be in his corner to inspire him, but that's different. That's during the resting period, it's much harder to stay in good spirits during the fight.

The two also studied his fights, looking for tendencies and habits.

"When he throws the right hand from a crouched position, he shuffles his feet and lunges forwards." MT pointed out.

"His favorite and most effective punch is the left hook to the body. He trained himself to throw the perfect liver shot, and a body shot like that can be the deciding factor of how a fight goes." He went on.

"If you feel a light tap on the right side of your guard or head, be prepared for him to bury that left to you body. It's very quick, made perfect by hours, days-MONTHS of obsessive repetition."

The two continued to study the films and second also noticed something.

"This guys not much of a mover...it looks like he plods forwards, very flat-footed." Mango gave him an approving grunt.

"Spot on, and he never makes attempts to cut off his opponents. Just drives at them in a straight line. Keep him in front of you but don't let him get too close, that's where he likes to be. Get him from a bunch of different angles." MT advised.

The training continued, MT had second doing planks and push ups on his fingers or fists, dumbell twirls, footwork training, and even more.

MT made sure to take special emphasis on seconds stamina, the little hollowhead had incredible power, and MTs knowledge and coaching ensured second always had an efficient way to deliver that power, but when a big puncher hits a man as hard as he can and the other fighter doesn't go down, it can take alot out of you.

Before long, second was in his dressing room, wraps tight around his hands and orange trunks adorning his waist with a silence that never seemed so loud.

He looked to MT for reassurance, then asked the million dollar question.

"How do..." he hesitated

"What's on your mind?" MT asked

"This is gonna sound like a stupid question but...how do I make another fighter tired?" He finished

MT took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying his best to put this in layman's terms.

Finally, he came up with an answer.

"You make him work harder than he's ever worked before." Second rose a perplexed eyebrow

"What do you mean?"

"Well, there's many ways to do this. You can tire someone out by making them move away from you or towards you. You can drain their strength by body punching, you can make them miss and counter punch..." mt etopped for a second, finally giving second a clear-cut answer hed been hoping for

"A fighter doesn't get tired because he's exhausted. A fighter gets tired because he no longer thinks he can win."

Second took those words in, and began to form a gameplan.

It wasn't much right now. So far, it was to keep him away and lead him into punches. But he'd refine it during the fight.

"You ready to go?" MT asked

Second nodded his head, and MT grabbed seconds shoulder and clicked the link.

The two were surrounded by darkness for a few seconds, before loading into the arena.

The massive pillars amidst the dessert wasteland shined like lighthouses in a desert storm, the heat was unbearable.

...

The heat was perfect.

He'd already learned the other fighters name, Earle "smoke" Stevens. Coincidentally the same name as his manager...

The crowd roared in applause as the two fighters entered the arena.

The walk to the center seemed felt like a marathon, but second couldn't lose sight of the gameplan no matter what.

Now the two stood face to face, Earle was a bit shorter than second but bulkier.

"Ladies and gentlesticks, we now move on to our main event. For the undisputed, welterweight championship of the world."

The announcer awaited even a little bit of reprieve in the crowds cheers.

"In the red corner, standing at 5'8 even, weighing in at 149 and-a-half pounds. With a record of 209 wins, 3 losses and 183 big wins by way of knockout. Introducing the welterweight champion of the world, Earle "Smoke" Stevens!"

The crowd once again boomed in its satisfaction, Earle was definitely a crowd-pleaser.

"And in the blue corner, standing at 5'11 even, weighing in a 147 pounds even. With a record of 88 wins, 0 losses with all wins by way of knockout. The challenger, Orange "The second Coming" becker!"

There were many cheers, but a few boos were mixed in the cacophony. A few people didn't want second as champ, today was the only day he'd be happy to disappoint.

The two fighters eyed eachother, as did their coaches.

"Alright boys, you are to listen to my instructions and obey my commands at all times. Touch up and let's get started."

The two backed up and the buzzer sounded for the first round.

Second began to follow his gameplan and was fairly successful, staying at range to strike from different angles.

As expected, Earle drove forwards in a straight line and a steady pace.

Second had to make sure not to over commit to taking him out early. It may seem easy now, but Earle was too tough for that. Second would be putting himself exactly where Earle wanted him.

That didn't mean he didn't coast until Earle got going, as Earle tried to drive his head into his chest to open up his midsection, second would use his strength and longer arms to hold him away.

Earle began to swing for seconds body, but he remembered the tactics MT taught him, framing off Earle's shoulders to throw the punches off course.

The first went to second easily, but he knew it wouldn't be like that the whole fight.

In the second round, he continued with his tactics in keeping the fight slow paced. If Earle wasn't countering, then there wasn't much use in changing things up until he did.

The second and third rounds went much the same way, nothing of note happened otherwise.

Then he came up with a new strategy.

He was planning on turning up the heat in the 5th, and then slow down in the last second. Then continue to slow in the next, he wanted Earle to start turning up as well.

That's what he planned, anyways.

In the 4th, Earle came out faster.

He proved he had underrated defense. It wasn't pretty, but it was effective.

His lower center of gravity and crouched position made it easier to get under second's busy jab, he found his way in soon enough.

Earle had managed to sneak in some tight body shots before second tied his arms up and snuck in some of his own. They weren't particularly heavy punches. After all, second had longer arms that tended to work against him at close range.

But he could tie Earles' arms up easily and smother any follow-up attacks.

In the last 10 seconds of the 4th, second tied Earles arms up again, but Earle threw a tight left hook-nearly throwing over his own head to catch second.

He went back to his corner, and MT fretted over him uncharacteristically.

"Look at me second, just for a bit." MT lightly grabbed seconds face and turned his head to inspect his eyes.

He took a deep breath.

"Alright, how you feeling?" He asked

"Well...huh...I think I'm starting to work out a plan, I'm gonna go out on fire next round and try to get him started sooner."

"Bait him into thinking you wore yourself out, good plan. But I have an idea to add onto that..." second perked up slightly.

"I'm all ears, because I have a feeling that this guy's gonna wisen up eventually."

"Don't show him your power until late, make him think you're all hype. Make him think you got nothing left. then when you're both tired late in rhe fight, his punch output will slow, his defense will be non-existant and you'll have the power advantage." Second nodded his head, slowly wrapping it around this new strategy.

The buzzer for the 5th started and second came out fast, taking care to not show Earle the explosive power that made him so feared.

His footwork was much more active, constantly hunting for angles like a jackal and capitalizing on them with the reflexes of a cheetah.

They may not have been hard punches, but they definitely got Earles attention. He hoped he didn't catch on.

He still needed a few rounds to map out Earles' tendencies, and this was the perfect way to do it.

When second was out of range, he probed at Earles defense with jabs and feints, trying to get consistent reactions to capitalize on.

When he was in range, he tagged Earle like a backalley wall in gang territory.

He didn't have the speed Earle did, but he could connect his shots at a very high rate because of MTs wisdom.

He began to slow down later on, and as if on cue, Earle began to pick up the pace.

He grabbed Earle in a simple collar-tie clinch, letting Earle land a few body shots to really sell his act. Earle wasn't a fighter known for the power behind his punches, he was a fighter known for throwing alot of them.

"When you go out for the 6th, use your defense. It'll really help to convince him that you've spent yourself." MT advised.

Second did as told, but when he wasn't throwing punches, Earle was barreling in and swarming him with body punches, and now they were really starting to add up.

Bide your time, bide your time just hold on...

He kept reminding himself that this was all part of the plan, but just his defense wasn't enough. A cagey veteran like Earle knew all kinds of tricks to keep up with the young bucks.

At the end of the round, Earle began to land on seconds head.

The round couldn't end soon enough.

MT came to second, seeming slightly nervous.

"You alright...? Can you see fine?"

"Yeah, I can see fine...why the concern so suddenly."

"No reason, just trying to look out for you." He admitted

"He's getting rough with you. Don't be afraid to do it back. You can still throw punches, just throw them sparingly." MT didn't need to spell it out, second knew exactly what he meant.

That didn't mean it would work flawlessly.

Earle began to steam forwards, closing the distance quick and continuing to hammer shots to his body.

Earle pressed up against second and leaned his weight on him, using his lower center of gravity to control seconds upper body.

Second would now shove him back, throw occasional punches to try and keep him off.

But soon enough, second found himself really throwing more than he intended.

What else was he supposed to do? He couldn't keep Earle away otherwise... but it felt like whenever second opened up to attack, Earle was already waiting with a punch.

At the end of the 7th, second felt a light tap on his right side and brought his elbow down more, even when he blocked it the left body hook still hurt...

At least it didn't connect clean.

Mango was very antsy when he got to his corner.

"He get you bad with that left?" He asked

Second shook his head, taking a deep breath

"Alright, stay away from that left at all costs, fucks sake I heard it all the way from here. That left'll kill ya." MT rubbed a damp cloth on seconds face as he spoke.

"Same plan, but turn it up to 11. Rough-house with him, foul him if you have just for the love of everything don't take as many punches as you just did." MT sputtered.

The buzzer went off and mango watched second, already bruised and hurt, March back into the fire to repeat it all again.

It reminded him of...of him...

He couldn't let second fall victim to the same siren song he did, nothing was worth permanent damage. He'd trade all the glory and fame in the world just to be able to see out of his right eye properly, to not have to put makeup on everytime he left the house...

It wasn't worth it, so MT would look out for the hollowhead.

Second went back out 8th, exhausted but determined to take this fight into deep waters.

Earle trudged forwards in his couch, always coming forwards like a slasher film villain, stalking and walking second down like a bulldog.

Second began to use his jab, peppering away at Earles face, even going as far as to use throwaway punches just to keep Earle on the defensive.

Second glided in and put of range, goading Earle to overextend, but every time Earle did, he was too quick for second to capitalize on it.

He'd lunge in, and right as second wad throwing a right over his left arm, he'd duck under or cross his right hand over his face to block the punch.

Second was now playing a game of inches, using every bit of reach he had to his advantage, timing his jab to catch Earle as he was coming in or coming up.

Earle landed his share as well, but due to seconds more active clinch-fighting, even going as far as to use some wrestling tactics, his offense was stifled.

"You're doing good. You're doing great, actually!" MT praised him

"Just don't get too careless. The last thing you want is for him to catch you and have your legs go. That's how he puts people away. He tires them so they can't run from him anymore..."

Midway through the 9th, Earle had adjusted to seconds clinching, now opting to lean straight into him and even planting his head on seconds chest.

It was downhill from there, Earle kept working seconds mid section, and he found himself working way harder than intended to keep Earle off of him.

The 10th wasn't much different. In an act of desperation, second decided to give Earle a small sample of the firepower he was packing.

Second landed his own left, usually the shorter fighter isn't used to being hit in the body by a taller fighter since their elbows already act as an extra layer of armor.

But Earle had gotten careless, and as Earle backed up and reset, second feinted a jab and stepped into a hard left to the body and that sounded like thunder but struck like lightning.

Earle winced and backed off ever so slightly, trying not to show that he was hurt.

Once Earle had gotten his bearings, he began to alternate his body punches to go to seconds head. The relentless combinations were like hail raining down on him, his sides began to feel sore and it hurt to breath.

MT went back to second in the corner, sweating. The young stick had taken a ferocious beating in the final seconds of that last round, and he wasn't about to sit by while his student got years beaten off his life.

He was faced with a tough decision. He hated watching second get hurt, but he also knew the hollow head had what it took to come out of this on top.

He let the fight go. It was still a bit early to stop it.

In the 11th, second once again tried to slow the fight down and goad Earle into turning the heat up. And turn the heat up, Earle did.

The pace he was at was unbearable and the desert heat began to take its toll, all the conditioning training in the world couldn't prepare anyone for this...

Just bide your time, push through and keep going...you can do this!

MT winced at the punishment second was taking, a certain...instinct...told him to throw the towel in, to save the boy from the harsh punishment he was voluntarily enduring, he'd live to fight another day and go home intact.

But second had yet to fully execute hid gameplan, in fact in seconds mind, everything was going according to plan.

In the 12th, Earle had finally shown himself to be anything less than a machine. He'd finally slowed down, and instead of getting into close range to angle his body shots, he instead rested on the inside.

He was still throwing punches, but his work rate had slowed down.

Second finally turned up the heat, finally exposing his power to Earle.

He landed thudding, vicious punches that jerked Earles head around and had him stumbling like a belligerent drunkard.

Second hit Earles with deadly rights and punishing lefts, forcing the freight train pressure fighter on the back foot.

Now, second was on the attack. patiently stalking after Earle, using his footwork to cut off any escape he could make.

But at the end of the round, he'd gotten over eager.

I can finish the fight now, I can do this! I can be a champion! He thought to himself

But he let his ambition cloud his better judgement. He aired it out, throwing everything he had.

MT watched the spectacle in horror.

"Slow down, dammit! Stick to the plan, stick to it!" He shouted loudly.

At the end of the round, second was breathing out of his mouth heavily.

"Why'd you do that, orange? Why!" He grabbed seconds shoulders and desperately shook him.

"I thought that...maybe if...if I...I got him now that..." second said through deep breaths.

"I don't care what you thought... you better have some steam left in you. Otherwise, this guys gonna tear you apart!" Mango shouted, his voice breaking with fear.

Second did not, in fact, have any steam left in him. The 13th was a horrible spectacle of violence and brutality, a homage to bloodsport and savagery but an insult to anything civilized.

Earle threw all the water including the sink at second, a tsunami of punches crashed into the challenger and began to erode his will...or so everyone thought, especially after second had been knocked down for the first time in his career.

He'd been caught off balance by a right hand as he was exiting close range, his foot went out under him and he fell on a knee.

The ref counted.

"1"

"2"

"3"

"4"

"5"

"6"

"7"

"8"

Second stood up, using the seconds to take a few deep breaths.

"Can you continue?" The ref asked

Second nodded

"Alright, show me somethin'." The ref demanded.

Second put his guard up and the ref allowed the fight to go.

And miraculously, Earle had stopped punching.

He came forwards, wheezing with his hands dropping ever so slightly.

In the last bit of the round, second gave him a brutal right to remember him by.

Earle began inexplicably stumbing over his own feet and needed assistance going back to his own corner.

Meanwhile, second sat in his corner.

MT ran up to him, shaking, on the verge of tears.

"I don't know what's going on with you orange, but...b-but yo-u can't keep taking punches like this." Looking upon seconds bloody face was like talons ripping at an old wound, the wound in question would've almost looked as bloody as second did.

Second looked to MTs hand, and in it he saw a white Towel.

No, no no no! Not after all this!

Then mango said the words second had been dreading.

"I'm gonna stop the fight..." second grabbed at MTs arm and laughed.

It wasn't the laugh of someone who'd lost hope. It was the laughter of someone who'd won l.

Then MTs mind wandered to a similar situation, with a similar orange stick.

MT had taken such a vicious beating, he'd taken punches that would've killed another fighter. He'd kept up with his reputation of being "too tough for his own good."

Rooney had ran to him in the corner, tears spilling down his eyes, white towel in hand. It'd been like watching his own son get beaten and there was nothing he could do about it...

Except that there was...

"I can't watch this anymore, kid! You...you look like you're gonna die out there...it looks like that's the only way you're gonna lose is if someone kills you and that's what I'm afraid of...it's over kid, live to fight another day, r-right?" MT stood up and kissed the top of Rooneys head.

"Don't cry...I'm gonna do it."

Second had snapped MT out of his momentary flashback.

"It's alright mango...I...I've won...just you watch..." mango fought himself fiercely, what if second really could pull this off.

Mango himself was confident in his ability to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat, but that's an easy assumption to make when he was the one getting hurt...

Now he has to worry about someone else's health, someone who has people who love him...

He held up 2 fingers.

"Two rounds...if you can come back then I'll let it go, but if I keep seeing this" he gestured to second

"Then I'm stopping it. Now get out there and knock that fucker on his ass!" He yelled

As it turned out, second wouldn't even need 2 rounds to do just that.

Earles pace and slowed to a crawl, second had gotten him to punch himself out of juice and now he was ripe for the picking.

Second now let his hands fly, wrecking balls crashed into Earles steel-jaw.

Earle was once again on the back foot, but this time second kept the pressure on, forcing Earle into mid range exchanges he had no chance of winning.

Now it was Earle trying to keep second off of him.

Earle threw sloppy, desperate punches to try and keep up with the young upstart but it was in vain.

Earle dipped down and shuffled his feet forwards, lunging into a right hand, desperate to end the fight with one punch...but this time he'd been too sloppy, and he wasn't a one-punch knockout artist like second.

He was ready, he'd already started throwing his own right and caught Earle flush on the chin, with both earle's feet of the ground AND turning his head into seconds punch.

The right handed bomb second detonated on Earles chin sounded like a bolt-action rifle going off and the crowd sat in stunned silence as Earles entire body went in the direction seconds punch was going, landing clumsily in the sand that matted both their bloody faces.

The crowd went quiet, the refs count was never more clearly heard than it was now.

Earle lie there, eyes half lidded and dazed. His body was immobile as he tried to pick his head up off the ground.

"1"

"2"

"3"

...

The ref didn't even finish the count. He waved the fight off as even IF Earle had gotten up from the punch that nearly took his head off, he wouldn't have been fit to continue regardless.

The crowd roared back to life, showering the new champ in cheers and baptizing him with praise.

Second threw his arms up and screamed an exhausted bellow of victory and relief.

Mango ran up to him, ecstatic that second had really pulled it off.

They'd gone home and celebrated, the rest of the gang nearly asphyxiating him with hugs.

After 13 consecutive title defense, all by knockout, he decided to retire for good.

The decision had come partially from the advice of mango, but also from the worries of his colleagues...

What really did it for him, was watching mangos fights when he'd already been fighting for over 25 years.

This time, mango walked in on him.

"Oh ahh...I'm sorry MT I just...I was curious." Instead of answering, mango stared at the still-playing video with sadness and regret in his eyes.

He watched the several batterings he'd taken and could remember as though they'd happened just the other day, and even though he'd won many of them or went the full 20 rounds without hitting the deck, that didn't mean it was a good thing.

"This is what out-staying your welcome gets you in the fight world...I'd much rather have gone out on top and missed out on a few big wins than having to go through...that." Second turned back to the video, replaying it and watching closely.

He's never been knocked out but...is it much better to take multiple punches standing than to take one and go down?

He made his official announcement.

"I'd like to announce my retirement from the usfc. I have accomplished everything I wanted to here in this organization, but now I have friends and family who love me and I them. I don't want to stick around too long and get hurt trying to make a big comeback. If mango couldn't do it then...well, I'm not gonna try."

Not long after, he was invited onto a talk show to reflect on his career.

He lamented on how it felt to not only he the first undefeated champion but also to have a perfect knockout rate. Simple questions.

"It feels nice, to have set the bar. I just hope someone can surpass my record someday."

"Yes, i doubt that'll happen anytime soon though...anyways, where does your punching power come from? Is it natural or is it trained?" The host asked.

"Well, some of it is natural. Every power puncher has that natural power. Whenever I hit a bag or catch someone clean, I can feel it all the way up to my shoulder." He stopped for a second, looking at mango in the live audience, inconspicuous but oblivious to what second was about to do.

"But just having power isn't enough to conquer a fight, much less an entire division. You have to be trained to efficiently deliver that power and have a plan at all times...and I'd like to speak about the person who's responsible for teach me that...the person who taught me everything I know..."

"No, no no don't do it kid." Mango mumbled to himself through clenched teeth.

"The one person who's solely responsible for every accomplishment I made, with the real mango "terror" tango please make his way to the stage!"

Everyone turned to him, suddenly he felt like he was under a microscope.

Guess I have to now...

He stood up and began walking to the stage to a round of applause.

Sitting down on the vacant chair next to second, in slight embarrassment, he continued.

"The great champion and..." he turned to meet eyes with MT.

"Great man, who has graciously passed his wisdom down to me, who has worked with me for countless months, who has allowed me to accomplish my dreams, who has always insisted that his identity be kept secret because he didn't want me living in his shadow, deserves just as much credit for my accomplishments as I do."

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

Oohhh boy, been awhile since I wrote something for this au. Sorry about that, I do have plans to continue, but I just moved a few months ago.

I ended up doing a poll on this before going into work, and I was gonna go with whatever style was leading after I got out of work, which happened to be an intelligent power puncher.

I began writing this not long after, but I checked it again, and once the poll finished, aggressive counter puncher was leading. Sorry about that, lol.

I wasn't sure whether to make his power punching slower but heavy-handed like George foreman or heavy-handed and explosive like Julian Jackson, so I did both, lol.

#alan becker #animation vs minecraft #avm #animator vs animation #avm king orange #au #ava #usfc #avm the second coming #Drabbles

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