#i am BEGGING we get an instance like that again
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thinking about how the Sumeru Archon Quest can be read as a metaphor for Alhaitham and Kaveh's relationship and their progression and going crazy
Alhaitham is present during the quest, whereas Kaveh is not, and this causes Alhaitham to question why Kaveh was not present in saving Sumeru. Relating this to their thesis, although it made many bounds for Sumeru’s understanding of ancient languages and architecture which held promise for betterment of the future, it was abandoned before completion due to their clashing of views and personal attacks of each other. Alhaitham repeatedly questioning why Kaveh was missing hints that Kaveh should have been a part of the Archon-saving plan, in that, Kaveh was missing from the betterment of Sumeru. Once again, an opportunity passed by for them uniting for a mutually agreed cause. This is due to the dissonance between them and their lack of successful communication.
In the Archon Quest, Alhaitham is present, ready for reconciliation, to work together, whereas Kaveh is missing, unaware of the chance of reconciliation. Kaveh believes that Alhaitham deliberately stirred trouble in Sumeru, rather than saving it, due to his flawed perception of Alhaitham – just as he believes that Alhaitham wants something in return for allowing Kaveh to live in his house, rather than it being an invitation for reconciliation, due to his flawed perception of Alhaitham.
This, in turn, creates a space in the narrative for the two to join together of their own accord, however, the two need to be in the same mindset for reconciliation. As established in Kaveh's Hangout and A Parade of Providence, this can be brought about by the mutual understanding that their clashes do not stem from overall differences in thinking, but their way of communication. Rather than their relationship being based on the opposition of their thinking, it should be based upon the potential that can be borne from identifying good in the balancing of viewpoints – which their thesis had achieved.
Their development as individuals ultimately lies within the other as they possess what the other lacks in order to fully complete their understanding of each other, and themselves. Alhaitham is the grounding for Kaveh’s ideals and the push for him to prioritise himself in his pursuit for happiness for “all” (as established within a parade of providence), whereas Kaveh is the breach in Alhaitham’s rationality and allows him to understand the sensibility of others around him, enabling Alhaitham to possess an enhanced version of his truth.
(Update: For more analyses like this, the essay this is taken from is now uploaded! It can be accessed here and here as as a pdf <3)
#alhaitham#kaveh#haikaveh#kavetham#haikaveh meta#i love overthinking so much#but really kaveh being missing from the archon quest but being the Main Character of a parade of providence is so poignant#the first thing alhaitham does when kaveh returns is ask and then demand to know where kaveh was and what he was doing#and kaveh is convinced that alhaitham has done something nefarious in sumeru#and then in the cutscene afterwards alhaitham asks about kaveh’s whereabouts AGAIN#like what was all that about#if not to show that alhaitham believed that kaveh should have been a part of the narrative#but they are not on the same page!!!#their history shows what they can achieve when their views are aligned and balanced#i am BEGGING we get an instance like that again
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My experience with Luke (Punz)
CW: toxic relationship, racism, dubious consent
I know in the past i said that i would no longer speak about him publicly, and when talking about my experiences with abuse and emotional mistreatment i begged to keep it anonymous but after reflecting on this for a week and seeing so many incredibly smart and strong women tell their stories. they have given me the strength to say his name.
this is really scary to talk about because of the copious levels of harassment i have received from his fans in the past so if this spreads or gets out of hand i will simply log off.
If you read my last post, i nicknamed him 1.
So aside from everything i said there, there were a lot of things i didn’t include because they would’ve made it obvious that it was him and it could potentially backfire on me so, i’m very afraid to post this. but i’m going to do it scared anyway, because it’s not fair that he gets to just go and live his life worry-free as if he didn’t practically ruin mine.
Because I already made a very lengthy post about him, i won’t include everything i said last time to avoid being redundant but if i repeat myself, please bear with me.
In our year long relationship i had to endure emotional neglect, gaslighting, verbal abuse, one instance where there was dubious consent, and much more.
Starting off at the beginning of our relationship, that’s when i was getting copious amounts of hate and harassment from his fan base (warranted or not), he decided that our relationship must be kept private. he said it was to “protect” me from his fanbase when in reality it was to protect himself. it was so he wouldn’t get all the backlash i was getting. this is funny because one of the things i got called out for was saying the B slur (derogatory term used against mexicans/latinos). I won’t get into the nuances of if i could say it or not as a puertorican because that’s discourse that does not pertain to this specific situation. But you know who definitely can’t say it? A white boy from Massachusetts. When i was getting cancelled for this and getting thousands of tweets calling me names, he decided that was the perfect time to say “I mean you are a b***** aren’t you? my little b*****.” Now, he said this completely unprompted. I was in the process of writing my apology and he just said that. I tell you this because i immediately shut him down and told him that there was no universe in which it was okay for him to say that word and especially not one where he could just call me that. While i was reprimanding him, he was smiling and laughing. he apparently found it amusing to call me a slur. regardless, he gave me a half-assed apology and said he wouldn’t do it again. and he didn’t. but this wasn’t the only time he was weirdly racist to me. this was my first time being in an interracial relationship so i was led to believe that this was normal by all the white people around me at the time. But, sometimes my spanish accent would come out and he would make fun of me and the way i pronounced some words. He also refused to visit me in Puerto Rico when i lived there or come meet my family when i really wanted him to because he “didn’t like the heat” or “it’s dangerous there isn’t it?”. Once, while we were watching season 2 of Bridgerton, he implied that the Sharma sisters were “too dark” for him to be attracted to them. This hurt me because they are brown skinned girls. I am a brown skinned girl. Then this, combined with the fact that he told me once he wasn’t attracted to me made me feel like my skin color was unattractive. These are only a few examples i can think of at the moment, but i’m sure there were more. Our relationship ended in 2022 so some of my memory is a bit hazy. But, I do remember feeling inferior to him throughout the relationship because he was white and I was not. I chalk that up to all the micro aggressions i had to deal with because i had never felt that way around white people before.
Another thing i had to endure was him constantly making me feel like he was embarrassed to be with me. Because i was cancelled, he didn’t want to associate with me too much. He did defend me on multiple occasions, I’ll give him that. But, he only did it because his name was getting dragged in the mud along with mine. Excusing my actions made him look better for being around me. In reality he didn’t really care. Because he was such a big content creator and someone i looked up to professionally, I took his advice as law. He told me to tone down my personality, to keep a low profile, to change things about myself to be more palatable to his audience. The same audience that spoke about me like “The pussy can’t be that good punz please stop defending her”. So i changed a lot of things about myself and my content to better suit what his audience liked. He made me feel like if his audience liked me, he would be public about our relationship and stop hiding it. He told me the reason why he wanted to keep our relationship a secret was because he didn’t want to get hate for it. But this wasn’t true. On my 20th birthday he went to Las Vegas for a twitch rivals event. That night i asked to facetime him to say goodnight and he refused because he was at a hotel room with his friends and he didn’t want them to know that we were together. It was as if my mere presence or the utterance of my name was a source of embarrassment for him. And he didn’t let me forget it. It wasn’t just a public thing at that point. He didn’t want people to know we were together, period. This was devastating to me because I would talk to all my friends about him. I was so proud to be with him and I was just one more problem to him. He made me feel so small and insignificant just because his fans didn’t like me.
He would berate me a lot. Not just due to getting heat online, although he did do that a lot. But in general whenever we would get into an argument or a disagreement he would always call me names like annoying or weird or stupid. He would raise his voice at me if i did something he didn’t like and call me an idiot. And that really hurt, i felt like i couldn’t bring up anything or do anything without getting insulted. If I hadn’t seen him in a few days because he was too busy streaming and i asked to hang out he would call me needy, clingy, and annoying. Granted, he might not have been wrong, but that is not something you say to someone you claim to love. He also insulted me when i was in depressive episodes. I have BPD and at the time i was not being treated properly for it. So, I was all over the place emotionally and he was what i clung to for validation, reassurance, and love. I talked to him when we first started dating about my disorder and told him that if it seemed like something he couldn’t handle that he could opt out of the relationship. I guess he didn’t think it was that bad or something idk because whenever i had really bad depressive episodes, he would tell me I was too sad to hang out with. He said that my sadness was a burden to him. Which would be fair. But, once my mother had a conversation with him about me. She told him that i am someone who needs a lot of love and caring. She said that if he wasn’t willing to put in that kind of effort into a relationship to just leave me alone. He reassured her that he would be there for me no matter what. He told my mother that he would protect me and my heart. He did not. He took all the warnings I gave him and ignored them and then made me feel like I was the problem. And even worse, he would say that i was pretending to be sad to get his attention when he would neglect for days at a time.
There were also some smaller things like the fact that he made me feel really guilty whenever he would spend money on me. Also, he would be really mean about my eating habits. For context, i used to suffer from an eating disorder. I was anorexic and had a really unhealthy relationship with food during high school and my first year of uni. This relationship began when i was recovering from my ED. For me, eating was really hard. So i had certain comfort foods that, while sometimes unhealthy, at least it was something to eat when i didn’t feel like eating anything. He knew this. Yet, whenever i would crave some of these foods he would call me fat. Constantly told me I’d gain weight from eating all that junk food. Saying that to someone with an eating disorder is crazy. Other smaller things were that whenever I would post tiktoks where i was lip syncing or just looking good he would yell at me and say i was looking for attention. Same with Instagram or Twitter whenever i would post photos where I looked hot. He never planned out a single date for us. I would beg him to get me flowers and he did maybe once but i’ll get into that in a bit. He would make fun of me in front of his friends to make himself look better. He let his friends say really degrading things about me in his presence. For example, once when i was showering, i overheard him on a discord call with George and Sapnap and i heard George say “if you don’t go in the shower and have sex with Andi, i will”. Once, when i was really struggling with my legs (for those of you who don’t know, i have arthritis and it’s very painful. at the time i wasn’t diagnosed but i was in a lot of pain) I literally could not walk. I had to beg him to take me to the ER because i didn’t know what was wrong with me. He didn’t want to take me but eventually i convinced him, and while we were there all he did was complain about how long it was taking and that he would have rather been at home streaming. Whenever I would talk about my interests that i was excited about like shows or books he would be incredibly uninterested and say that those things were stupid and he didn’t want to hear about them. I know all of these seem very silly or superficial but cumulatively it was awful.
Now for arguably the most serious thing i’m going to talk about. I want to preface this by saying i am just telling my side of what happened. You can come to your own conclusions about this.
On April 25, 2022 it was our one year anniversary, and i had made a dinner reservation for us. I expected him to plan something throughout the day for us to do. He told me he was going to spend the whole day playing Valorant so I got upset and cancelled the reservation. After a very heated argument, we calmed down and i asked him to come over. He came over about an hour later with flowers and drinks (I was 20 at the time so I couldn’t buy the drinks myself). He brought Smirnoffs and Trulys. For context, I am a lightweight. I always have been. I literally get tipsy on half a cocktail. And that day, I hadn’t eaten anything because i was in distress over our argument. So we get to talking and drinking. I blacked out after my second Smirnoff. Apparently I drank 3 but I genuinely cannot remember anything after finishing the second one. The next morning i woke up naked in my bed. I woke him up and asked him “Luke, why am I naked?” and he said “Because you didn’t want to put your clothes back on.” When I clarified to him that that was not what I meant, he got defensive and said that he didn’t realize how drunk I was. He proceeded to tell me that I initiated sex with him and that i was very enthusiastic about it. He said he didn’t know i could black out on three smirnoffs. He made fun of me for being a lightweight and continued to make light of the situation. Then he mentioned that i fell off the bed at some point in the night and that it was funny how drunk I was. I then questioned him. Because if he thought that me tripping and falling off the bed because i was so drunk was funny, how did he not know that i was too drunk? He responded by saying that i fell off the bed only after we were done. That day I broke up with him. I’m still really confused about what happened that night. I don’t remember anything and all I have to go on is what he said to me. We were in a relationship at the time and he says he didn’t know how drunk I was so I’m not sure what to call what happened. A while after that day, his friend that hmu while we were broken up and I started talking again and i confided in him about that night. He told me to be careful saying things like that because they could get me into trouble. I spoke to some of our other friends about it and they told me it was no big deal and that it wasn’t his fault that he didn’t know how drunk I really was. Because I don’t remember, I have been led to believe that this is not a serious matter. You can think what you want, come to whatever conclusions you want. That is just my side of the story.
I want to add that I’m not proud of how I acted after the relationship ended. I felt really angry at all the shit he put me through and I guess a part of me wanted him to hurt even a quarter of how I did. So I started talking to his friend and got involved with him. This backfired on me because his friend ended up really hurting me too so ig i got my karma. But the thing that hurt the most is that because of what I did, some of our friends took his side in the break up. I was told that I did something terrible by getting involved with his friend that he was already insecure about and that he didn’t deserve that. These are the same friends who were witness to the dumpster fire of a relationship we had and all the things he did to me. They turned their backs on me because of this one thing I did. But stood by and watched as he treated me like garbage for over a year.
I will conclude this by saying that while this relationship has been “over and done with” for almost two years now, I carry a lot of trauma from it still. I still talk about him in therapy and have had to put in a lot of work to heal from what he did and i still cannot say that i am okay. I am very blessed to now have a patient and understanding partner who has helped me heal from that trauma and i just want to quickly thank him for that. Nobody deserves to go through what I did. While yes, it was a toxic relationship, and I had a part in that, it does not excuse all the awful things he said and did to me. This is my truth, thank you for taking the time to read it.
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𝐈 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐊 𝐈'𝐌 𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐌𝐘 𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐃
summary: in which they get to see you as a drunk, giggly mess.
includes: isagi, sae, rin, kaiser, yukimiya, bachira, nagi, karasu, aiku, kunigami, reo.
note: the whole gang is here! i had so much fun writing this, it had me giggling the whole way through.
❥ SUCH A BABE! patiently holds onto your hand wherever you go and definitely guards your drink whenever you need to use the bathroom. he tries to stay sober, quietly sits on the bar talking with an acquaintance, sipping on orange juice whilst keeping his eyes on you. he honestly thinks it's a bad idea to get drunk on a sunday night, mostly because you're in a house full of intoxicated people, and definitely because you have a test that is worth 40% of your grades the next day.
but hey, when you looked at him with such pretty eyes, begging to come to the party, how was he supposed to say no?
"it's okay," he mumbles, his hands rubbing gentle circles on your back as you wretch into the toilet bowl. "that's it, let it all out."
his other hand is holding your hair in a makeshift ponytail and he grimaces when you lurch out for the umpteenth time, quietly making a list of all the things he'll need to get for your hangover tomorrow.
"i am never drinking again," you groan, slapping a hand onto your forehead to wipe off the sweat, muttering a thank you as he dabs a cold cloth across you face and lips. "please remind me to never drink alcohol again. i am banning it from my life starting from this instance."
"we both know you don't mean that." you tilt your head, squinting against the light that's illuminating your boyfriend's figure. "it'll only happen if you have better self-restraint."
rolling your eyes at the teasing smile he has on his lips, you raise your hands in grabby movements before squeaking as he lifts you in one motion.
"woah," you gasp, swaying on your feet, "handsome and strong? how did i manage to get such a catch?"
you eye the red spreading from his ears to the tip of his nose, grinning when he coughs before sheepishly rubbing the nape of his neck.
"i take it back. you're super cute too."
"shut up." he groans before tugging you into his embrace, hands snaking around your waist. "let's get you home, yeah?"
"mhmm." you mumble before puffing your cheeks and pouting your lips to imitate a kiss, "kiss me first before you go, or however that line is supposed to go."
"no offense," he mumbles as he tries to evade you, pushing his palms onto your lips when you lean in too close. "but i'm not kissing you when your breath smells like vomit."
"meanie."
your pout disintegrates when you feel his lips press against your temple, the familiar scent of his cologne engulfing you as he wraps his sweater around your form.
he feels you tug at the shirt on his back as he leads you out of the club, his eyes meeting your drowsy gaze as you blink slowly. "can we buy some mushroom soup before going home?"
"yeah," he chuckles, hand coming up to ruffle your hair whilst the other intertwines your fingers. "we can stop for some mushroom soup first."
definitely cooks you said mushroom soup + buys you bread and porridge to help with your hangover! also emailed your professor first thing in the morning so he could cuddle and lay with you in bed the whole day <333
ISAGI, yukimiya, nagi, bachira, sae (i honestly think sae would be the type to do this, especially when he's down hard).
❥ CENTER OF ATTENTION. is the textbook definition of flirty; charming smile with lidded eyes, ruffled hair, and the top two buttons of his shirt undone. he's got a drink in one hand, rolled up sleeves on both, and you on his lap. feels the prying eyes on his figure and it makes him smirk, hand tightening on your waist as he whispers into your neck.
"hi, sweet thing." his muffled drawl is met with your giggles and he reaches down to take your hands in his, pressing a soft kiss on the skin. "have we met before? i feel like i know you."
"i don't think we have."
he watches you roll your eyes, a smile threatening to break out on your lips. his eyes trace your tongue as it darts out to wet the muscle, gaze breaking contact when he hears you clear your throat.
"you're right," he smiles, lifting a finger to trace along the apples of your cheek. "i would definitely remember an angel like you."
"such a charmer." you lift a hand to encircle his neck, your hands playfully tugging at the ends of his hair. you eye the way he bites his lip, smiling innocently when a shiver runs through his body. "bet you say that to all the girls."
"hmm?" he's adjusting his stance, pulling you higher on his lap before nudging your nose with his. "what other girls? i'm only here for you, pretty."
"only for me, huh?" you mutter against him, breath mixing with one another. you press a short kiss onto his lips, smirking when you lean back and he follows. "i like the sound of that."
he hums when you press back into him, lips following a path down the side of his neck to his exposed collarbone. you press a last peck to his lips, mouths deepening in a kiss when he holds you tighter against him.
"try to keep up, handsome."
he's blinking his eyes the moment you slide down from his lap, whining when you leave him with a wink and a wave of your hand before disappearing into the sea of people and lights.
"what have you done to me, sweet thing?" there's a smirk on his lips as he runs a hand through his hair, ruffling the strands even more than you did. "feels like i'm losing my mind."
he plops down from the chair, placing a tip at the bar before going off to look for you. he raises an eyebrow at the number of people looking his way, shrugging off the attention. it's only when he goes into the bathroom, wide eyes looking at the lipstick marks you've left on him, that he realizes what they meant.
"fuck that's hot," he chuckles before tapping at his phone, sending you a voice-note.
"i got your present, pretty," he rasps, "now be a good girl and let me return the favor."
karasu, kaiser, aiku (yeah bolding all three because i screamed through writing this one).
❥ WATCH DOG PRIVELEGE is what he calls it. there's no other reason for him to be undressing you with his eyes, stare lingering on the exposed skin of your neck. he promised to drive you home and keep you out of trouble, and that's exactly what he's going to do the moment he sees you stumbling from the dance floor.
"alright, that's enough. let's go home."
he grumbles at the sound of your whine, gently tugging you until your back hits the front of his chest. a small flicker of a smile appears on his face when you let out a small 'oof,' followed by a chuckle as you spin yourself to meet his gaze.
"hey, let go! i have a boyfriend and he's a big famous soccer player!" you're squinting against the shade of the club, quietly cursing the darkness obstructing your vision before you recognize his face. "oh, hi baby! i didn't see you there."
he shakes his head at your intoxicated state, reaching down to place a hand on your wrist to stop you from straying away. "hello," he mumbles into the crown of your head, pressing a soft kiss that has you giggling. "had fun?"
"yeah. but it would've been better if i was with you."
he eyes the way you practically vibrate with excitement, gently stroking a hand through you strands in hopes of calming you down. he watches you snuggle into his chest, feels the way your hands snake around his middle.
"i've been with you all night, though?"
"no," you pout, "you were watching me. watching from 2000 feet away and being with me are two totally different things!"
"well i'm here with you now, aren't i?" he notices the way your eyes slowly flutter, a drowsy yawn escaping your lips. "i'll be with you at home too, how's that sound?"
he waits for the nod of your head before gently picking you up into his arms. he feels you place your head on his chest, your arms looped around his neck.
"don't fall asleep on me just yet," he grumbles as he walks out into the night air, "we still need to change your clothes and do your routine."
"i don't care about skincare!" you whine, snuggling further into his hold, "i'll wake up as a bloated hippo tomorrow. fuck skincare! just wanna go to bed."
he gets you into your pajamas when he arrives home, removes your makeup, and pulls you in for cuddles as he lays on the bed. he presses a kiss on your nose when he hears you start to snore the moment your head hits the pillows.
definitely rolls his eyes when you wake up hungover and bloated the next day, exaggeratedly sighing when you pull him into the bathroom to do your skincare routine together.
"oh come on, i know you like wearing the matcha mask i bought!"
he tries to keep the lovesick expression off his expression but when you press a kiss on the tip of his nose with a sly smile on your face, he knows you've caught on to him straight away.
kunigami, reo, rin.
#blue lock x reader#blue lock imagines#blue lock fluff#isagi yoichi x reader#itoshi sae x reader#itoshi rin x reader#michael kaiser x reader#nagi seishiro x reader#bachira x reader#kunigami x reader#aiku oliver x reader#reo x reader#karasu x reader#yukimiya x reader#isagi yoichi imagines#itoshi sae imagines#itoshi rin imagines#michael kaiser imagines#nagi seishiro imagines#bachira imagines#kunigami imagines#oliver aiku imagines#reo imagines#karasu imagines#yukimiya imagines
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Yandere Killing!! ~When I told my obsessive childhood friend, "I love you too," she shifted to the romantic comedy route~(Manga)
Created by: Toyama Monaka/Kazuichi
Genre: Smut
The continual descent into translating yandere stuff continues. This one only has one chapter out for me to translate so far, so really the only last maybe 10 pages have any semblance of smut. Still though, the artwork for this one is very pretty and I am so happy with the way that I typefaced this one like you will not believe how clean it is compared to other ones I've translated.
The story starts out with a man named Isogi begging in front of Miyoshi to take him back after he cheated on her with another girl. Miyoshi of course bluntly rejects him, stating that the one thing he cannot forgive is cheating to which Isogi is dragged away. After that, her coworkers get worried about her and she continues her work at the coffee shop, only to meet up with another man named Ohara who asks if the two of them will be eating dinner tonight. Ohara and Miyoshi are childhood friends and have a tendency to eat together with her sister Ryoka. Outside, Isogi stalks Miyoshi until Ohara comes to "have a talk with him". At night, it seems Ohara is late and Miyoshi and Ryoka eat together instead, before Ryoka turns in for the night warning Miyoshi to be more careful when it comes to Ohara. Ohara comes over to eat and we see that Miyoshi has had a long time crush on him, however, feels that he has no interest in him because of an event that happened when she was in high school. At work, Tayaka ends up proposing to Miyoshi after she laments about her ex for a bit promising that he will be loyal, however, is interrupted by Ohara. Ohara seems pretty pissed which leads to Miyoshi feeling depressed about this fact as she still has a crush on him. Not wanting this to eat her, she tries to call Ohara so that she can confess to him, even if she feels he won't reciprocate. However, while attempting to do so, her sister ends up calling her instead, warning that Ohara is right behind her before Ohara takes her phone. Ohara is extremely jealous and starts to touch her. talking about how Isogi and Tayaka don't deserve her before basically mating pressing her at the end.
Basically I think that the plot of this smut (I mean most smuts barely have a plot, fair enough) was pretty intriguing until the very end of this chapter where everything escalates way too fast. I guess considering the title states it goes into a comedic route that might be the reason why? Hard to tell with just the first chapter though. Also because we know that the male lead is a yandere at all times, the misunderstanding of her not realizing that Ohara does have a huge crush on him is pretty like...well, the dramatic irony is not lost on me, I suppose. Still, I did think that the entire thing with Sayuki's drive to not try to get back together with someone who cheated is pretty good, although I'm not sure why she feels like that since we don't know if she's actually had problems with cheaters in the past (before Isogi) and I feel (?) like it's pretty standard for people to not get back with someone who has cheated on them if there is not reason to (like having kids or being financially dependent on them for instance). Like I said though, the ending of that is pretty confusing- how did Sayuki's sister Ryoka know that Ohara was right behind her and why did she call in the first place? I mean, I know Ryoka was pretty much the only person who knew the two liked each other, but how did she know he was coming for her? And like. I don't understand why Ohara didn't just try to confess to her in the first place if he likes her so dang much anways, especially since it did seem like the two of them were close. Again though, this is a smut so it's not like the plot is the most important part of this story, there's just a lot of things going on that don't really have an explanation now.
That being said, this artwork is very pretty and it does a good job with the yandere expressions that we did get. Hopefully as more chapters come out that I can translate we can figure out what is going on in this story.
#Yandere Killing!! ~When I told my obsessive childhood friend “I love you too” she shifted to the romantic comedy route~#male yandere#yandere#yandere boy#recommendations#manga#ongoing
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WELL I WAS PLANNING ON PLAYING CELESTE THIS EVENING BUT INSTEAD I WILL NOW DEVOTE IT ENTIRELY TO INDULGING MY HYPERFIXATION
IT'S FINALLY TIME FOR A PORKY POST
Are Ness and Porky Friends...?
Let's talk about that 😏
First things first, I think this single moment from the beginning of the game is by FAR the most important thing to consider when thinking about how Ness and Porky's relationship is presented to us
Right at the start, when you make your way up to the meteorite, you will encounter the cops and their blockade
This also serves as our first introduction to our wonderful neighbor, Porky Minch, who is currently making a nuisance of himself trying to get up to the meteorite, much to the cops' chagrin
One of the cops asks if we could help deal with Porky, and asks this vital question:
What's Ness's answer?
Yes!
...or no.
I cannot understate how obsessed with this I am.
Ness can't say whether or not Porky is really his friend. This is something he's unable to answer on his own. I really think this is a fantastic way to introduce Porky to the player. If he is Ness's friend... it doesn't seem like he's a very good one.
Now shortly after this, Porky begs for Ness's help in finding Picky. We get a pretty good look at Porky's character here. He's obnoxious, rude, doesn't take responsibility for his actions, and above all is pretty meek and cowardly.
Now, I think some people go a little far in interpreting him as "bad" here. Porky's undeniably a jerk even now, but he's still just a kid, and a pretty pathetic one at that. If you look on the Earthbound wiki, you'll see that his age is listed as 14. As far as I'm aware, this only has one source, being Saori Kumi's Earthbound novelization. If you know even the slightest thing about this book, you will understand how ludicrous it is to use this as a source.
Porky's age is never specified ingame, but I think his overall presentation implies that he should be the same age as Ness. It's fairly well-known that Ness's age is given as 13 in the American guide, but 12 in Japanese. 12 is also the age given in, again, Saori Kumi's novelization, unfortunately I don't know if this is stated elsewhere. It can also be noted that Shigesato Itoi has actually said he never thought of a specific age for Ness, just that he had his daughter in mind who at this time was in grade 4 or 5. So this gives us a range that could be as old as 13 or as young as 9. Personally, I skew toward 11-12 for how I envision the characters.
In any case, Porky's clearly very young, so you really have to keep that in mind when considering... kinda everything about him, actually. But in this instance, it really contextualizes the stuff he says.
For example, if you say no to him when he asks for your help, he threatens to "say something that'll cut you like a knife." I think it's silly to take this seriously (i've even heard someone describe it as Porky blackmailing Ness). He's clearly just gonna call Ness some mean name or something.
...Except he doesn't. Say no to him again, and he'll immediately deflate.
Porky is in no way a bully. He's annoying, but he's pretty lousy at being intimidating. Instead, his favorite way of getting what he wants is to appeal to others' sympathy. He's relying on Ness to help him by virtue of being "his bestest friend." Or think of his actions in battle: smiling insincerely, apologizing profusely, pretending to cry. He plays up being a sweet innocent kid whenever he's in trouble.
So, I think the picture we've painted is of a kid who's sort of a jerk, and tricks others to get what he wants. It becomes pretty clear why Ness isn't sure if he can really call Porky his friend.
...But what about Porky's side?
Is he really only pretending to like Ness for his own gain, or are his own feelings much more complicated?
First off, just some minor things. While Porky leaves a pretty bad, if not altogether inaccurate first impression, there's a few things in his dialogue that speak to him thinking of Ness as more than just 'that loser who thinks we're friends.'
He promises that he'll tell Ness all about the meteorite in the morning. Probably this'd be in his typically boastful Porky-fashion, but even so, this shows that he wants to share things with Ness.
It's easy to miss because most people playing Earthbound have played A Video Game's before, and also tend not to ignore directions the game is clearly telegraphing, but Porky will actually give you advice if you're not properly prepared.
If you don't grab the Cracked Bat:
You're not taking anything on our big adventure?
Why don't you look around for your Cracked bat or something?
Taking the bat but not equipping it:
Sorry about giving you this game-type advice, but you should equip your weapon!
Do you know what "equip" means?
Yes:
Okay, that's good. Be sure to pay attention to details like that.
No:
It means "use" or "wear."
You must equip items in order to use or wear them.
"Equip" is used a lot in games like this,
but you already knew that...
Finally, not answering your dad:
The phone is ringing! Answer it!
At my house, my dad gets bent if I don't get the phone...
within the first three rings!
These aren't anything groundbreaking, but they do show how Porky acts with Ness in casual contexts, plus how the game presents Porky surprisingly neutrally in the beginning, rather than just immediately telegraphing him as the villain. Also, nobody's seen these so hey, some obscure trivia for you.
Finally, Porky's reaction to hearing the prophecy is pretty telling of the kind of character Porky is pre-Giygas. He just talks about how much trouble Ness is in now, how he hopes he doesn't have to come, and how freaked out he is. I think this sums him up pretty well. He's the meek comic-relief friend character. Sniff from Moomin, for example. Or go watch Monster House, because Chowder is literally exactly Porky.
But none of that is super juicy. Let's dive into something juicy.
This little bit murdered my brother when we got to it in our playthrough.
A quick detour to Magicant...
Ness... I envy you.
You have all the luck. I have no luck.
Ness... well, okay...
Let's be friends forever, alright?
still hurts
Yeah so first off, I think this totally clears up Ness's feelings towards Porky.
He can't say if they're really friends...
But he WANTS them to be.
This is Ness's vision of Porky, the Porky he used to know before Giygas corrupted him, and the one he wishes was still around.
But even if this is just a manifestation of Ness's consciousness, I think it also gives us a look into Porky's inner self. This is what Ness sees in Porky, the confession that Porky is too insecure to say out loud. He hides it behind all his boasting and rudeness, but he really, really wants to keep his friendship with Ness.
Well.
If only.
Let's get to MOTHER 3.
This game gives us SO much more of Porky's character, and it's all sooooo deep. I cannot understate how much I hate seeing Porky reduced to 'that Eric Cartman kid who is an absolutely irredeemable suchnsuch.' King P is the culmination of a lot of aspects of Porky's character arc (you think this post is long, it's only the first of many more...), but one of the most prominent aspects is his unbelievably, painful, PATHETIC loneliness. This kid... man... is so desperate for a friend after he left the only person who ever wanted to connect with him that he literally brainwashes a whole city's worth of people into loving him.
And of course that's not enough, because all he wants is his next-door neighbor, his good buddy, his bestest friend Ness.
In closing, are Ness and Porky friends? It's complicated. Both clearly, desperately want to be. They have a history, they know each other intimately, by Itoi's own words they literally grew up playing together. But, for a number of reasons (that I've thought all too much about...), Porky just can't help but make it difficult. I'd sum it up by listening to the song that plays during Earthbound's cast credits. In the end, there are good friends, and...
#earthbound#mother 3#mother series#porky minch#pokey minch#ness earthbound#emilyramblings#and holy fudge do i ramble#i just cannot shut up when it comes to porky minch#and there's so much i still need to talk about...
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of beskar and kyber {chapter 17}
Pairing: Din Djarin x Force Sensitive! Reader (the Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader)
Summary: Din Djarin is not a remorseful man. Everything he's done, he's done for a reason. But he finds himself in an internal struggle as he tears through the galaxy for traces of you.
Word Count: 10.3k
Warnings: canon typical violence, canon typical fighting, use of narcotics, use of drugs, reader gets drugged, reader gets kidnapped, reader gets tied up, kidnapping, controlling parent, toxic parent / child relationship, toxic parent / child dynamic, din has a lot of feelings, din reflects on his time spent with reader, death, minor character death, infectious thoughts, negative feelings, feelings of inadequacy, issues with intimacy, religious guilt, feelings of religious obligation, religious contemplation, so much guilt for our tin man, violence, derogative language, insinuations of sexual favors, a few instances of shouting, din loses his hold on reality (1) time, references to past instances of self-harm, references to past instances of suicidal ideations, let me know if i missed anything please!
A/N: an all din pov chapter, baby! who's ready for ten thousand words on how this man feels? this was a fun different way to approach the story and i rather liked it even if i am afraid to post it. there are so many different interpretations of din that are all so great, and while this is my personal one for the character in my fic, i'm still worried about how it'll be received
ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi
“Mother, please.” You begged, voice absolutely wrecked. Desperation settled in your gut, making you dizzy and nauseous. The illness of it was debilitating even through the hum of drugs waning in your system. Sobs were wracking your body, exploding from your ribcage in painful bursts. You struggled against the cuffs on your wrists, the cuffs around your ankles, rotating them in hopes of finding weakness but they were strong. But they were made of beskar, strong and programmed to shock you should you jostle them too much. Using the culture of the very people who had meant salvation now for damnation. She had made sure they would hold you this time.
She just sat there, watching you from the chair by the door. Long hair pulled up into a knot atop her head, blue tunic and black trousers flowing and clean. Her hands clasped in front of her, resting her chin against them as her eyes took in the slump of your form across the small room. You were on the ground, legs numb from the hard, unforgiving stone underneath you. Boots removed and down to nothing but your simple clothing. She had taken the pendant from you, the one Din had gifted you in the wake of your confession to losing the one from Akiz. It glinted over her own chest, visible where she allowed it to drape over the front of her collar.
“Please. I don’t want to be here. I want to go back to the ship. I want to go home.”
“Oh no, my darling, you won’t be going anywhere near that disgusting ship again. That Mandalorian has caused enough damage, stealing you away after taking your fob. I still had to pay the Guild fee for your bounty. Credits you know we didn’t have in the first place.” She paused, her hands clasped together, elbows on her knees, and she leaned forward to rest her hand atop them. A wicked smile overtook her as she eyed you across the room.
“Luckily, I found someone who was willing to cover the cost and offer to take you as their wife. They’ve put a lot of energy and credits into helping locate you. They will be here in two days’ time to collect you.”
She looked almost mournful at the idea of you leaving so soon after reuniting. Of sharing you with another after claiming to do everything she had ever done to you out of protection.
“But he swore to protect you from any threats, from the Mandalorians that seem to be obsessed with owning you, harnessing your power to help them crawl from the cracks of the universe they ran to hide in when their planet was destroyed. This man, he’s from a very important royal line that is deeply rooted in the New Republic.”
“The New Republic is a joke, they can’t even keep their own soldiers happy, let alone protect anyone.”
“Hush now, darling.” She got up and the black tin she kept in her pocket flashed in her hand. You began thrashing even more so, tears cascading down your cheeks as she approached you. The click of the tin opening sent you back to every other time you had heard that sound in your life, eyes going wide and your breath left you as if you had been hit square in the chest. “The time will fly by with this dose and then we’ll be off to our new home.”
He’d been searching the city for days.
Despite the thrumming of pain through his head, his vision blurring, and the helmet resting too heavy on the now soft, new skin that was his injury. Tender fingers carefully spraying bacta and skin itching as the tissue tried to heal with its aid. He wished for your smaller hands to be the one caring for him, but he was alone. Alone with a fussing child that was beginning to use his powers to get his feelings across since he was still learning how to talk and use his little voice.
Not taking any time to rest, instincts telling him something was wrong, that something had happened. You wouldn’t just run off, even with what had occurred. At least…not for this long. He hoped. He…hoped.
Stalking through the various casinos and cantina’s, searching for any traces of you to be found. Even in the hectic atmospheres of the racetracks and brothels, of seedier bars and establishments you may have ducked into or been taken to by the force of whoever had stolen you away. Snatched you from whatever you had sought out to calm yourself.
He sat in front of the tracking fob given to him when he first took the job to return you to your mother for hours. Set it atop the control panels in the cockpit, helmet removed and head in his hands as he contemplated turning the device back on. He had scoured the hotels and seedier hostels with it in his grip, to no avail.
It was as if you had simply vanished.
Your smiles and laughter, soft sighs and teasing quips a figment of his imagination.
Made up in the loneliness that accompanied the type of life he led. Missions, jobs, hunting, tracking, trading in criminals and runaways for next to nothing, refueling the ship and hitting the ground running again, taking to the air and space again. And again, and again. He didn’t realize how tired and monotonous it had all become, despite the thrill of his skills proofing to be elite time and time again. He didn’t realize how much he had been missing out on until you threw it all off track. Deliver the goods and credits to the covert, ensure they were safe and protected, collect another job, hunt, track, kill, injure, collect. Broke the routine he had been so accustomed to with an utterance of his dying language. Rolling off your tongue with precision.
It had been striking. You had been striking and he had torn you down in a way he never wanted to, unintentionally with a fumbling lack of words. It was maddening, to search for days to find no trace of you anywhere.
There was no indication you ever existed aside from those left behind on his ship. The mug of caf sweetened with sugar and powdered milk at the table, the pack of your cigarras you always insisted on smoking outside while it was docked, the crate with your tools and materials used to make armor, the neat and organized labels you had applied to everything within the panels. The room he had set up for you….though you often split your time between his own and the hammock still hung up in the hold space.
He had left it all untouched, too afraid to erase the pieces of evidence that you were real. That you had been aboard his ship. That you had been trying to connect with him and he stumbled over his words so badly he made you feel unwanted on such a level that made you run.
Like the acts between you two had just been him seeking out pleasure with no real intent other than that behind them. The thought that you must’ve felt like he was just like every other person who had ever used you made his stomach turn and bile burn in his throat. Only his ploys had been steeped in honey and saccharine promises. He had frozen, the words he wanted to whisper to you lost in the panic of the moment, of wanting exactly what you were asking for. It had all been so overwhelming. It had been so real, felt so real, and it had been a jarring realization.
That he had wanted to remove his helmet and give into your request.
Despite the Creed he swore his life to. Despite the commitment he had made to you that would allow for him to do so in time.
But now it was too little too late.
After the third day, he was beginning to think you weren’t merely taking some time to yourself…
Maybe he was foolish to think he hadn’t messed up so monumentally that you had found a way off world and run even further from him. But he knew you weren’t the type of person to do that. To him, to ad’ika.
Burc’ya. Friend.
Ner kar’ta. My heart.
Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum. I love you.
Vencuyot riduur. Future husband.
You wouldn’t have run from him to that degree, loyal and devoted. Loving and caring, kind hearted at the very core of who you were. Even despite the tragedies and ill-natured things you had been subjected to in your life. Good. Too good, for someone like him.
He was beginning to think something had happened.
But without the aid of your communication, vambraces still set atop the makeshift table along with your main bag and armor, he had no way of knowing for sure. Just the niggling feeling in his gut that was burrowing deeper by the second.
He sent a transmission to Karga, asking if there was any news of your arrest before deeming the planet a lost cause and raising the ramp. He took the Crest up up up and into the air, helmet scouring the shrinking planet all the while, feeling an ache in his heart that he didn’t think he would ever get used to.
He had to push through, he had to focus. You needed someone to help you, wherever you had gone or been taken. You needed him to find you. He needed to find you.
Ad’ika had been in a constant flux from eerily silent to wailing as loud as his little lungs would allow, wide eyes brimming with tears the longer you were gone. Din had taken to wrapping the child up in the cloak he had bought you, securing it with the metallic flower latches and laying him down in the cot alongside him. Never sleeping, only laying down intermittently to pass the time. Rest evading him as his mind began to think of the things that could’ve happened to you.
Tatooine was his first stop, no response from Karga when he docked and secured the ship in Pelli’s hangar. Much to his disappointment, the travel through hyperspace hadn’t been too long, so a response was wishful thinking on his part. Spurred on by the endless possibilities of what happened consuming him.
He was silent as he handed her the credits from your bag, loathing that he needed to use them as he lacked his own. Even now, gone from him and hurt, you were still offering him help. Providing for him the way he should be for you, the way that he wanted to. The reality of having asked you to travel with him weighing heavily on his mind. Once ad’ika is settled with those who could train him, Din would need to take up working with the Guild full time again to provide for the covert. A life steeped in danger and endless threats, a life you already had far too much experience with. Perhaps…perhaps he could secure a tract of land somewhere, a place to return to after jobs. A nice cabin surrounded by trees and an endless supply of anything you may need. Or perhaps a shop front on Nevarro, for you to sell you wares. He would take extra jobs to provide that for you, work his hands to the bone and until he could barely move for how exhausted he was.
Because you deserved it. You deserved to be happy and he was beginning to think that may not be with him. Not if he was constantly away or you were left on the ship for days, weeks, months at a time while he tracked down his quarries. Constantly traveling through space and left to handle the ship alone.
Would…would you even want that type of life?
Wouldn’t it be another type of imprisonment, no reward but a tired and aching man in the bed beside you only a handful of nights? Half of him given to you, half devoted to his Creed.
I’d rather be dead than be someone’s captive again. Even if it’s as one to you, jatne vod.
Thoughts consuming him, there was no argument from him as he left ad’ika with her to look through the city.
The lack of your figure emerging from the ship didn’t prompt any questions from her, though he could sense them on the tip of her tongue and the front of her mind.
He set out, looking for the woman who you made friends with the last time he had landed the Crest on the sandy planet.
He found her, in the middle of a scuffle in the marketplace over a stolen loaf of bread. A child whose stomach was caved in and bruises over their arms visible when the sleeves of their tunic rose up. The vendor wanted the child to be taken in, punished for the attempted theft. But he could see how conflicted Sioban was with following that heated demand.
Diffusing the situation, seeing the form he had first encountered you in mirrored in the small child, he stepped forward and offered a handful of credits to the vendor.
“To cover the bread for the child, two loaves and that chunk of cured meat.”
“Sir, this has nothing to do with you. You don’t need to put yourself out for that ungrateful litte-“
“Take it.” Din’s head throbbed, exhausted and anxious, just trying to do something good. Something you would do. They were your credits, and he wanted to do this. At the fixed stare of his visor, the vendor released the child from her tight grip, nearly throwing the small frame to the ground as she did. Roughly, she gathered the loaf that had started the whole ordeal, a second one, and the wrapped meat. Holding it out for him to take.
Sioban ushered everyone who had stopped in their tracks to go about their business. Once the small crowd cleared and attention was diverted, Din turned to the child and crouched down.
“Here, for you.” He kept his voice a hush, not wanting the modulator to manipulate his voice into a threatening or menacing tone it tended to do, taking the emotion from his words more often than not.
“T-thank you, sir.”
“Now go and stay out of trouble.”
An enthusiastic nod and they were running off, disappearing down the street.
“Well, well, well. Mando is a softie afterall.” Sioban’s voice lightly teased. “Where’s Sarad and the baby? Or is this a solo trip this time around?”
“I would like to speak with you, if you have the time.”
“Something happened.” The woman’s features hardened, a slant to her brow as her eyes looked him over before settling on the visor. She didn’t look or feel like a threat, something proven further by your willingness to share a table with the woman. But Din was fighting his instincts, the ones telling him to chase chase chase, even with no actual leads as to where you had gone. And this woman might hold some clues or at least be able to offer Din a higher chance if he had someone on the ground of the planet you had run to once already.
“Yes.”
The conversation with Sioban hadn’t yielded any answers. If anything, it solidified that Din had absolutely no idea what to do. With no other leads, he fell back on his tracking tactics, searching for your last place of known residence.
Once back to the ship, he silently takes ad’ika from Pelli. Not responding to the looks or faint questioning he knew was on the woman’s mind. A nod, a formal shaking of the woman’s hand and he was guiding the Crest back into the air to comb over the planet as best he could. You had said you thought you were here when he took you from that compound, a home you had hidden away on this world after running from your mother years ago.
It took him nearly a week’s worth of days of flying low to the land before he caught sight of a structure.
Mind working overdrive as he strained his eyes through the visor with aided mechanics for any sign of life amid the vast stretch of the desert landscape. Sectors outlined and crossed out when they didn’t yield anything. Errant skeletons of a bantha, the Jawa’s traveling across the land, and Tusken settlements the only markers of time passing and the ship moving moderately along.
And then, suddenly.
There were two tall spires beside a moderate looking abode. Moisture farming equipment, the same you had told him about replacing shortly before your capture. Was all he had to go off of, a small conversation that you hadn’t expanded on in your time with him.
The structure was like most far out into the desert, mostly underground with a rounded and smooth stone roof, a door with a protected entrance to prevent sand from building up right up against it. It was modest, big enough for one person to have plenty of room. Abandoned, by his guess, the stone of the building chipped in places from sand and the spare storm weathering it down.
It had to be yours, it had to be, please let it be yours were his thoughts as he broke the lock still activated, ensuring the structure was protected even out in the middle of nowhere. Mos Eisley was an entire day’s travel away. Even more so in any other direction to another of the planets handful of moderate settlements. A good place to hide. Visibility on your side. A lonely place to hide.
I’ve always loved the forest.
The memory how your tired and injured features had lit up at the sight of Sorgan visible through the glass of the cockpit, the breathy gasp that had fallen from your lips sprung to his mind. You had been so calm, despite the precarious circumstances, stealing away moments to brush your bare fingers along the leaves reaching out from low branches.
You must’ve been miserable here. The land so dry and empty, the closest mountain ridges barely visible on the horizon. Even those were spotty with tangled roots that held little to no greenery. Sentencing yourself to the wasteland to live out your life in fear and comfortability, hoping the environment you weren’t fond of would throw those searching for you off your trail.
Glancing behind him, Din watched as ad’ika slowly made his way down the ramp. Little sounds falling from his lips as he took in the sight of his guardian in front of a new place he didn’t recognize. Raising his hands as he got to the bottom of it, Din retreated to it and lifted up the small child, holding him tight in the crook of his elbow as he descended down the few steps and through the open door.
It was dark inside, no lights on or power source even charged, no doubt. But definitely abandoned. Sparingly decorated, though he could feel that it was once your space. The kitchen equipped with a fancy caf maker, ample kitchen wares, potted plants and herbs that had long died and dried in the sunlight coming in through the windows. There was an impressively organized wall of shelving right above a desk in the large main room, presumably where you would work on crafting armor. The only way to support yourself in such an environment. Most likely making trips into town in order to sell or trade.
There were three interior doors at the back of the structure. A heavy duty one off to the side of the kitchen. That one contained a greenhouse set up, or as close to one as you could imitate underground and on so hot a planet. There was a large panel of controls beside the door on the inside, telling Din of the way you controlled the pressure and moisture of the room One to a storage room, more evidence of your time spent here. Full of large bins and crates, evidence of grains and dried food. Of the pieces of armor you lovingly and intricately crafted.
One to a fresher, the last to what was once your bedroom.
Underneath the bed is where he found it, with the aid of his helmet. The massive rug that took up most of the bedroom floor hiding it in plain sight. The trap door exposed when he moved the bed and folded the rug up.
It wasn’t secured with anything that he could see, even with the aid of his helmet. It looked just like score marks dug into the stone ground. And he recalled the way you could effortlessly wield the Force, the power you shared with the child. Perhaps you hadn’t wanted a way for anyone else to access what lay hidden beneath, using it to manipulate the hideaway you felt you needed even this deep in the desert alone. Forever paranoid and fearful of being tracked down and found out.
Sighing, Din tried to think of a way to break the barrier, knowing he needed to search the entire home.
“Ad’ika,” He called, turning to see the child had situated himself on the couch in the main room. Eyes wide as he toyed with a broken collar. He wondered if it had belonged to a creature you had cared for, run away or long since passed now. “Ad’ika, can you help me?”
Leaning down to pick up the occupied child, Din pointed a gloved finger to the marks in the stone ground.
“Ad’ika, see these lines?” A gurgle of acknowledgement, the tilting of his head. “There’s a door here, that leads underground. Mesh’la put it there, do you think you can open it?”
Din set him down in front of it, crouching down to hold his hand out in front of them both and mimic the way you would twist your hand in concentration to harness your powers.
“Just like Mesh’la, like how you take the handle from the lever in the control room?”
Wide eyes looked up at him, curiosity in them at the man’s words.
If this didn’t work…he could always resort to using the charges fastened to his belt. Force a way through the entrance, but he didn’t want to damage the space or the room below.
But the crackling of stone was sharp as it sounded in the air. The child’s small face scrunched up in concentration, his eyes clenched shut as he harnessed his powers. Quiet grunts falling from his mouth as he struggled to move the stone.
But it was working. It was opening, the telltale sounds of stone grinding on stone as the thick slab that acted as an entrance was pried open.
“Good job, ad’ika! It’s working!” He couldn’t contain the pride in his voice nor the rapid beating of his heart. Positive that any answers he was in search of would dwell below. He moved forward to help lift the heavy slab, shoving it along the floor and revealing a dark space into the lower level of the house.
Turning on the flashlight of his helmet, Din descended into the bowels of your hideaway. Dust enveloped him as he waved at ad’ika to stay put on the higher level until he cleared the space.
It was a large room, the same size as the whole top floor of the structure. Though it was only two rooms, a living room and a bedroom with a second fresher. The living room held floor to ceiling bookcases, filled to the brim with physical books. A holo net in front of the couch, signs that you spent just as much time down here as you did in the rest of the structure if not more. He hated the realization that you felt the need to hide away even this far out in the desert, this far out in the galaxy. Forever paranoid and holding the fear that you would be tracked down. And he had been a part of that fear, he had been one of the many who had sought you out.
The crate in the bedroom caught his eye, beckoning him forward. Not only because of the hefty locks sealing it shut but because there was energy around it that made the tips of his fingers tingle. Much like his blood when he felt your body pressed up to his own, the sacrament of your trust in him personified.
Walking toward it, the small baby curls of his recently trimmed hair prickled on the back of his neck.
Snapping the thick locks, he kneeled on the ground in front of it and slowly lifted the lid.
His breath left him as the visor set into a midnight blue, almost black Mandalorian helmet peered back up at him. It was in pristine condition, as if it had merely been taken off for the man who he suspected wore it to partake in a quick meal and not the reality that it had been stored here for who knows how many years untouched. He hadn’t asked if you had kept it, after the man’s death, but he was felt the question bubble on his tongue more than once. But the answer was sitting obvious and blaring right in front of him.
Lifting it revealed the very same pendant he had gifted to you, attached to a thinly crafted beskar chain.
The one you had said you intended to show him in order to garner his help, to let him know of your connection to his way of life. Lost in the scuffle of being taken off guard and whisked away, but it was here, awaiting your return. He wondered why you hadn’t worn it that day, the day that set your paths up to cross. With slow movements, he began to remove the cowl about his neck, laying it down beside him.
With a held breath, he reached for the pendant and fastened it around his neck, tucking it beneath his shirt and layers of protective ware fronted by his cuirass. The cowl going back in place.
Beside the helmet…beside it was a neatly arranged line of metal hilts similar to the one you carried with you at all times. Similar to the one you had tried to buy your freedom from him with when first meeting.
Similar but not identical.
There were four of them. Lightsabers, you had told him they were called. That he now knew were an integral part of the creed you had been trained in. But the fact remained that he didn’t know the why of how many you had in your possession.
You had said each person similar in skill and training crafted their own, each unique and personal to an individual much like the helmets and armor Mandalorian’s adorned. Carefully picking one up, tingling traveling further up his arms and settling down his back, he tilted it to see that it did indeed house a crystal like your own. Each one had a different hue.
He decided to stay in the place that you once called home that night, locking up the ship after checking to see if he had received word from Karga. But when there were transmissions waiting to be heard, he secured the ship. His head hurting and his mind overwhelmed at finding pieces of you, proof that you existed outside of his memories.
Settling into the bed, he knew it was a lost cause as he tried to feel close to you. Reality reminding him you hadn’t slept in either of the cots aboard the ship in nearly two weeks now, years for the bed he now lay atop, cover bunched underneath his arms as he curled on his side and regarded the journal you left behind in your haste to run. Ad’ika resting atop the pillow beside his own, wrapped in your cloak as if it was the softest blanket in the universe. The child trying to feel close to you as well, missing you and growing more concerned each day.
Sleep evaded him, your voice loud in his head, the way you had sounded so devoid of emotion when he had failed to communicate with you. Tipping into different memories, the most prominent of the events back on Nevarro.
It rang in his ears, over and over, layering itself until it was a buzz he couldn’t rid himself of.
Ner kar’ta.
The desperation in your voice, the tears in your eyes, the way your hands shook as they reached out for him, how gentle they were when they cradled his helmet. The soft press of your forehead to his chest, to his helmet, to his hands grasped in your own as he lay bloodied and injured, barely conscious and so tired. So ready for death after a life that had only allowed him a glimpse of you. To ensure you could escape and continue to live, to be safe.
You had told him, as well as you could, what you meant to him.
Had shown him, with trusting him to press his skin to yours, body tangled with his own. Nervous giggles sounding into the air and seizing his heart as he wanted for more of them. Of the breathy sighs and sounds that fell from your lips as you let him caress your skin, the soft give of your chest, the plush give of your thighs, the velvet smooth apex between them.
Trusted him with the most intimate parts of you, parts of human connection. Even in the face of all that you had endured.
And then you has whispered it, half asleep and safe underneath him.
I love you. Future husband.
And he shattered it. With a foolish blunder of words he hadn’t been able to reign in, to explain himself and his own desires in a more coherent way. That he wanted you just as you wanted him.
Jatne vod.
Contradicted with the emotion bleeding from your expressive eyes, the firm line of your lips as you closed your mouth, resigned to a notion that you gathered from his stupid, ill thought-out words. From his lack of words. The way your hands shook for an entirely different reason, the way you shrunk into yourself, away from him.
And then you had been gone.
And it hurt.
He left ad’ika in the room, fast asleep atop the pillows.
Removing his helmet and hanging his head in his hands, he settled on the couch. For the first time in a long time, the Mandalorian known for being so ruthless, for being so focused and emotionless behind his helmet, cried.
“Mando, I’ve received word. But it is best relayed in person. I will be awaiting your arrival.”
Ad’ika was not having a good day, he didn’t want to leave the house he could feel your presence in. He had already wailed and shook his tiny fists as Din tried to pick up him. Causing the migraine addled man to lose his grip at the sharp pierce of his cries to his head. That had only resulted in the thump of ad’ika’s bottom on the stone floor and more crying.
Din already felt bad enough, but he felt like the worst guardian in the galaxy for dropping his foundling, for not being able to manage his own pain and discomfort to care for another’s. A pang of fear floods him, igniting his instincts in a way it rarely did. And he froze in his crouched position, having been about to scoop ad’ika up.
The child must’ve shared in his foreboding, a shriek sprouting from him and causing Din to cradle his head as best he could with the helmet, knees kissing the floor harshly as he fell to them.
Something was wrong. Low in his gut, unease bubbled and stuck to his insides.
He felt like he was going to be sick, his head throbbing, pain prickling from the healing scar at the back.
And then his body felt numb, like all sense of command was not his to control and his vision blacked out.
Nevarro loomed in the distance, approaching fast. The ship rattled at the harsh landing, Din’s steps hard and fast as he disembarked, the ramp closing behind him as he crossed the new archway that had been erected in the time he had been away. Months had gone by, one with you and one without. Having to spend another week resting in the place you once called home. He had fallen ill, though of what he didn’t have an answer. Only that his head felt like he had been electrocuted and his limbs had been hard to control. Adi’ka too, had been lethargic, crying out long into the night every time the suns had set and darkness took over the planet. The search for you stretching far too long, anxiety thrumming over his skin.
Karga was in the reconstructed city hall, reading over something laid out on the table when the door boomed open, revealing the determined figure of Din, a secretary behind him frantically trying to warn the man in charge of his arrival.
“Where?”
“Sir, please, you need to check in-“
“It’s alright, he’s got clearance.” With a nod the woman was closing the door behind her, knowing it was serious if all protocol was being ignored.
Din repeated his question, forgoing a formal greeting.
“Well, I wish these were better circumstances.” The man stood up, coming around the table and leaned against it, his arms crossed over his chest as he took in the still form of Din across the room. The wide eyes of the child peeking out from the bag at his hip, small hands allowing him to climb from within it and jump from the moderate height. He cooed, walking the distance to Karga and lifting his hands toward the man.
“I’m still trying to get intel on that. But I do know that it was her mother, who struck a deal with someone of the Guild. He…was here still when we took back the city. He had taken the transaction separate from the Guild, not wanting word of it to get back to me. To you.” He relayed the information as he bent down to pick up the small being.
“I’ve got him locked up, but he’s not speaking.”
“He will.”
“Mando-“
He was gone in a blink, stalking out the door and toward the prison cells kept on the lowest floor of the building.
The stone steps opened up to a line of cells on both sides of the long room, Din stopped in front of the only occupied one. Body buzzing with anger that the inhabitant had not only hunted you down and captured you but did so on the orders of someone who’s voice triggered you through a transmission. He couldn’t begin to imagine the visceral reaction you’d have upon seeing her for the first time in years, having entertained the thought of killing yourself in order to not have to deal with her again.
And he feared, heat catching in his throat as he felt the prickle of tears.
I’d rather be dead than be shackled for one more second of my life!
You…you wouldn’t, right? Now that you had him to return to, someone to rescue you from being stolen away from the life you had carved out for yourself. It had been so long since you had been taken, days, weeks, and entire month. And he still had no clue as to where you had been crated off to. It would be more days, more weeks, maybe another month before he could figure it out. Did you already seize an unknown opportunity, try to escape? Or had you given up, too loaded up with whatever drugs your mother and intended pumped into your system to make you compliant? Would you have taken the endless out of harming yourself, seeing it as the only option as he failed to come to your aid thus far?
Would you be able to sense the desperation and endless efforts he was putting forth to find you? That he was trying, despite the way he was still healing, despite the sense of dread that he would be too late?
Would you be able to sense his worry and fear over you having to deal with something you never wished for? A forced reunion with your mother, back in her clutches and control. A forced marriage to a man you didn’t know, the obligations that came along with that notion…the very same acts that had caused you to turn to self-harm in the past, the scars of which were displayed on the skin of your thighs, the same ones that he had run his fingers over not too long ago…
A man bound in cuffs was slumped against the floor, back leaning on the wall behind him. He appeared to be alive, though if his answers didn’t aid Din in his search for you he wouldn’t be for long. Giving into the urge to startle the unaware man, Din banged a fist on the bars of the cell. Jerking awake, the man’s eyes flew open and his chest heaved.
The second he recognized the armor, his eyes narrowed and he frowned.
“It was just a job, nothing personal, Mando.”
“Is that why you went out of your way to hide it from the Guild records?”
“You’re too self-righteous, knew you’d come after me for hunting the girl.”
The snapping of metal was loud, sickening as Din’s shoulders forced the control panel to bend and spark.
The whine of the door swinging open deafening as the man pressed himself back into the wall, trying to get up on his feet. But he was too slow, Din’s hands hauling the man up by the front of his jumpsuit and slamming him into the wall. A crack sounded as the back of the man’s head connected with the stone of the wall. A wail punched from his chest as he lost the air in his lungs.
“It’s too late, her mother married her off to some high lord. She’s probably already knocked up with his heir by now. Living a cush life in some nice palace far away from here.” He spoke unprompted by a direct question. Knowing that it was useless to try and lie to the Mandalorian.
The mere thought of someone touching you had anger swirling in his chest and stomach, igniting him in a dangerous way. You didn’t like people touching you, you didn’t like anyone who wasn’t him touching you in any way let alone intimately. His voice was low when he breathed out his next question, an edge to it that commanded the truth.
“Where?”
“Don’t know, I told her mother you were probably going to find out, track me down and kill me for the information. Don’t know why.” The man flipped the stray hairs flopping over his forehead away, teeth clenching as he recalled the way you had slammed him harshly into the side of the alley. “The bitch has a pretty face, sure, but she was a handful. Took a lot to take her out, but once I did, she begged so sweet for me to let her go.”
“Drugging someone isn’t something to boast about, it’s a last-ditch effort for those who don’t have the skill for the job.” Din’s words were a guttural sound, echoing across the floor. Blood dripped from the man’s nose, a vambrace knocked into it the longer the man talked. He didn’t know anything, but that wouldn’t stop Din from beating what he could out of the man.
“So what? It took her down and that’s what mattered. I saw her take down those Storm Troopers that overran the city, there was no way I was going to be able to without the hint from her mother. You’ll find another body to warm your bed. No need to fret over-“
Din’s hand was around the man’s throat in a flash, knuckles popping with the force. An ugly gurgle deep in his chest, body desperate for air, but he would never take another breath again. Windpipe crushing under his palm, Din took some comfort in the final, choked sound the man made before his body went limp.
Before it could even crumple to the ground, Din was walking out of the room and going straight toward the stairs.
“Mando, I sent communication to Cara, she’s-“
“I’ve got what I need.” Din was careful as he lifted the child from atop the desk where Karga had set him with a snack. Exchanging adoring coos with the tired little being. Making sure to offer the rest of the pack of dried fruit to the claws reaching out for it, a whine falling from his mouth at the idea of leaving it behind.
“Not so fast-“
“I don’t have time. I need to find her.” Din snapped, fists clenching and ad’ika ducking down into the bag at the boom of his voice. “She’s been sold like a slave by her mother.”
“I’m going with you,” Cara was firm in her decision, not wanting to take any chances of your distance becoming permanent. Of it leading to the demise of the person who you had begun to develop into that she had glimpsed.
“No, I have to handle this myself. I was the one who failed to protect her.” He moved to continue through the room, toward the door. But Cara was suddenly in front of him, her arms crossed over her chest and her lips a firm line.
“Mando, you’re gonna need help. And she’s important to me too.”
It was a quiet trek back to the entrance of the city, more ships having landed around his own. He was about to engage the ramp when two of the attending guards approached him. But they spoke with Cara at the sharp gaze of the visor on them. Another ship was offered for them to use, curtesy of the city and of Karga. Something a little smaller, a little faster, nondescript and wouldn’t give away the presence of an enraged and desperate Mandalorian searching for his partner.
When the argument for a different ship didn’t take, Karga approached through the archway.
Cara was hesitant to point out that the ship was as obvious as Din’s armor. A sign to tip off those keeping an eye out for threats. She had been quiet, sitting in the office with the magistrate and the child while the body of the now deceased Guild member who had hunted you down was taken care of. Waiting for Din to emerge from the containment level. But now she stood beside him, urging him to see the benefits to changing ships, just for the time being.
“Do we risk docking the ship in a hangar?”
“Yes, we lie about the model.” Din insisted, not wanting to leave the Crest behind.
“What if someone knows?”
“It’s an old ship, pre-Empire, no one will know.”
“They’ll run it through the system.” Karga spoke up, wanting to be a voice of reason for his friend determined to rush, to not take a beat and think things through. “Mando, you owe it to her to be as stealthy as possible. If they know you’re coming, once you track down where, they may hurt her. Take it out on her.”
Din closed his eyes, hand coming to the front of his helmet and over the visor. He didn’t want to part ways with his ship, even temporarily. It would mean he wasn’t surrounded by the things you left behind, the proof that you were real, had been with him, shared in a life with him even for a moment.
With his words more of a grunt than anything, he conceded, knowing the two beside him were just trying to help.
“What did you do Mando?” She asked quietly, the book from your crate in her hands and pages flipping as she looked through it. Hoping to find some light on how to connect with you. Din had gathered supplies from the Crest, things you may want once he managed to find you and rescue you.Your armor and more of your clothing, the first things he packed into your bag. An insistence for you to never leave the ship without the pauldrons again that he would plead with you until you conceded. People would be less likely to confront you with the tell-tale signet of a clan and the Mandalorian armor. But then again, he never planned to stray far from you outside of the ship. He knew you were capable, more than capable, but he…he wouldn’t be able to handle loosing you again if he was able to get you back.
When he got you back, he argued against the self-depreciating and negative thoughts that were attempting to consume him.
The ship was in hyperspace, a three-day trip ahead of them to make it to the mid rim coordinates of your home world. Neither had been there but knew of the inhabitants being an uneven mix of humans and a reptilian race. Oceans and sprawling fields of tall grass making up most of the environment. It was a moderately size planet, had seen bases for both the Resistance and the Empire in it’s time. Though the more recent had been the former. Most likely spurred on by your suspected return to what you knew in the wake of the Temple’s attack. An event in your life that you had yet to open up completely about, allowing him small glimpses before it became to much to talk about. But it was easy to connect the fall of Mandalore and the fall of your Temple being equally devastating, an attempt to take out entire cultures.
“I…I made a mistake.”
“…how big of a mistake?” Cara didn’t look up from the journal in her hands, not wanting to make the armored man feel cornered. Allowing him the privacy and space to turn away from the question should he want to, feel the need to.
“She fled the ship, to get some space. She must’ve been distracted, too worked up to keep her head up and on alert. It…I’m the reason she was taken.”
“Mando, you know that’s not true.” Cara tried to placate him, knowing he carried a lot of guilt over what had happened, whatever it had been to cause all of this. “She didn’t have her saber?”
“She does- did. She.. they drugged her. Like you said, it’s the only way to take her down.”
“Wait, this looks like Basic. They’re the only characters written differently…”
Din was hovering, making out the words on his own.
“Betrothed.”
He recalled the same words falling from your lips, the reason that prompted you to make an escape. You hadn’t wanted to be someone’s wife, someone’s property. The name was in Basic as well, something you didn’t want to forget lest they come after you themselves. A shadow of your past hovering over you and hidden in the back of your mind as you set out on your own, determined to hide yourself away to prevent anyone from having power over you. Of belonging to someone, anyone ever again.
And yet…you had so readily agreed in his commitment to you, knowing that was the only way Din would be able to share in your affections and wants. Mandalorian religion and culture strictly forbade the removal of one’s helmet unless it was with family, with a spouse, with children of the same clan. To do so outside of those conditions would result in the label of an apostate. Striped of their involvement in the lifestyle and Creed. It was a serious thing you should hold reservations about, with your past.
And while he hadn’t pushed the parameters of it….he had wanted to. For you, for himself, to share himself with you in the way that you had felt safe enough to voice. The realization that you had agreed to such an all-encompassing thing, being with him made him reflect. Why were you willing to do so with him, for him? He was just a bounty hunter, one who had actively sought you out and intended to turn you into the very person who had stolen you away. Sold you like an object to someone for their wants and needs, to fill a space in their life whichever way they commanded it. He had been of the same mind when first encountering you, seeking you out for a trade of currency.
Din was not a good man, though he tried to be for his people. But being a good man to his people, being the sole provider for his covert allowed him to be fast and loose with what it meant to be good in order to do so. What did it matter if the person whose puck he had was truly guilty of the accusations calling for their surrender if it allowed him to delivery credits and supplies to his people? What did it matter if the job warranted for the person he was tracking to be delivered dead or alive and he chose to kill them based on the simple notion of them running and it allowed him to bring a ration of meals to his people?
What had he ever done to deserve someone such as yourself willing to let down your walls and allow him entrance? He had been at internal war, whether or not to turn you in the second you spoke Mando’a to him, healed him, saved him from that second raging Mudhorn even when you had to reason to do so. You easily could’ve let the cut on his arm fester, let the rampaging creature take out his already spent form.
But…it wouldn’t have been easy, he knows now. How you cared for those around you: from friendly vendors to women you seemed to see yourself in, to children who are simply hungry and have no choice but to steal, to ad’ika in bounds and waves, to him. The constant swivel of your head while out in crowds and among people, sousing out threats and people who may be on the lookout for you. The swiftness with which you turn into a fighter when threatened and your freedom is at stake.
The thoughts swirled around and around in Din’s mind as the ship traveled toward your home world. The last known location of your mother and potentially holding clues as to who she struck a deal with. The now dead bounty hunter not having gotten a name, only concerned with the exchange of credits for your capture. No questions, no concerns. The quarry’s capture the only thing that mattered. The man had taken the job and completed it. Had died as a result of it.
Din had been like that too, not that long ago.
Could have easily been the one being imprisoned while someone who cared about a quarry sought answers and revenge. But he was the one realizing how fragile things where, had been since taking two fobs from Karga and altering the very meaning of his life.
Something about the wide, beseeching eyes of the child had activated his heart. Opened it up and made room for the small being to fit into. The uncertainty he had sensed from the child once its eyes had looked into his own, spurring a sense of concern from the armored man over its life well beyond the need to deliver it to the client healthy and alive.
“She asked for something, for a…kiss.”
“But…your helmet.” Cara weakly argued, knowing how strongly he adhered to his Creed. Not even removing it in the face of grave injury and offered aid. Not even removing it in the threat of death.
“I know,” His words were carried on a heavy sigh. He sat heavily in the seat beside her, the hull holding a small set up for longer travels. Ad’ika crawled from her lap and over the table, situating himself in Din’s arms, claws reaching for the helmet to try and sooth the man. “She- she called me ‘jatne vod’ before she fled from the ship.”
The cracking of his voice was not lost through the modulator.
“She must’ve felt so rejected, so unwanted. And I- I just stumbled over my words so badly she ran.”
“She knows you care about her, Din.”
The sound of his name from her lips, so different from when you spoke it, whispered it, breathed it, was too much for him.
“I really messed up, Cara.” He admitted with shaky words.
“We’ll fix it, I’ll help you fix it.”
K’ath was a beautiful planet. All endlessly sprawling ocean, sandy beaches, and small clustered villages.
Simple. Life here was simple. Crops being tended to, the oceans being fished in, no signs of the war other than an abandoned base on the edge of the largest cluster.
Din hadn’t ever wanted to enter the planet’s atmosphere, to step foot on the sandy land. It was a place that held painful memories for you, the crumbling of a life you had been hopeful to return to in the wake of losing everything that ever meant anything to you. A hopeful refuge after a life of hardships, but it had only provided you with more. The stripping of your freedom and the control over your own body.
It was simple enough to find your home, your mother’s home. Asking after the armorer, claiming he was in need of repairs. A Kath woman had been kind enough to try and use her broken Basic to tell them where he could find the store front, but that no one had been tended to it for some time now. That the woman who was known to run it could be approached at her personal residence. That she was kind and could be persuaded to help even though she’d long retired from working.
It was empty, signs of disuse obvious from the outside. Tall reeds of grass sprouting up at the foundation, the windows thick with grime. It was humble, despite the ways in which Din had seen you return from a shop front, a bag heavy with credits in your possession. A skill that you learned from your mother lending you a way to support yourself and indulge in all the things you had to go without for so long.
There was only one transmission on the communication radio set up in the corner that Cara had rushed to once the door had creaked open. Sand was collected in the corners, another sign that no one had occupied the residence for some time now.
“She’s on Maldovan.” Cara shuffled into the bedroom from the main one, aware that the man was focused on something she couldn’t see. He was as still as a statue, peering into the darkness of the doorway in front of him.
The visor allowing him to take in the room you had been held captive in. There was bedding on the ground, no frame for it to sit upon. A chair on the opposite side, close to the door. No windows, no other entrance or exit. A small room that was bathed in darkness lest someone bring a lantern into the room with them.
“I don’t know that planet.” Din admitted, shifting from where he was standing at the doorway of what had been the locked room hidden behind a large wardrobe to look over his shoulder at her. The shifting of it had popped a drawer open, revealing needles and syringes, vials that had been long emptied. All signs that this was truly the home you had been kept in.
“Is that-?”
“Where San was kept locked up, yeah.” He was surging forward, hands reaching for the chains secured to the walls above the bedding and he pulled. Using all the strength he had to rip them from where they were bolted, the wall cracking and splintering as he did so. The heavy chains fell to the floor with a clang, metal that sounded eerily familiar as it collapsed on itself. Kneeling down, Din reached for one of them, the cuff in his hand heavy and he sucked in a breath as he realized why such a simple contraption had been able to hold you: the chains were made of pure beskar.
Far too heavy for your drug addled body to fight against.
Programmed to shock you should you move too much, the sensors lining the inside of the cuffs telling him as much. With a shout he tore the second, lower set of chains from the wall, throwing them across the room in his rage.
The image of you shackled to the wall of this dark room, consumed with thoughts of ending your life kept him on his knees, forced his arms to support him as he crumpled to the ground completely. His modulator crackling with the heavy breaths.
Surging up, he activated bright flames to flow from his vambrace. Intent on tearing down the entire house to the last stud and beam. Cara was quick to retreat back outside, letting the man do what he felt was necessary. She stood behind him as he made his way outside, the structure entirely lit up and beginning to collapse in on itself.
Dark smoke whipped around in the breeze coming off of the nearby shoreline, doing nothing to quell the licking flames. Cara was doing her best to sooth an equally agitated child in the bad slung across her shoulders. Though she knew it would take time for them both to come back from seeing the evidence of your heavy past.
They watched as it turned from burning wood, the outer stone walls crumbling from the heat that had been trapped inside, to a pile of rubble and ash.
He knew it was against the Creed, that it was a sin to leave behind something of his people. But the beskar that had contained you glowed hot amongst the ash, left behind as he walked away from the plot of land and back to the ship.
“The holonet has little information on Maldovan. Citing that it’s a desert planet with white sands, crystalline oceans that bring in a lot of visitors.” Din announced as he exited the control room, the ship constructed of only that and one other room off the hold space. One level, but enough for them to be comfortable traveling. Cara had tried to get Din to retire to the room once they returned to the ship and left K’ath behind, but he had insisted he was fine. Though the door to the cockpit had been closed and locked for hours now, well into the trip since the ship had been jumped into hyperspace.
“And their walled city.” Cara added, as she brought up a hologram of the planet to life from her cuff. She had reached out to Karga, asking him for any aid he had to provide them on the place they were traveling to.
“Yes… and if her mother knows about you then it will be hard to make a plan. Your armor isn’t exactly common and I’m sure she’s told the royal guard to keep an eye out for you.”
“Haran.” He cursed, knowing Cara’s words were true.
Shit.
It was entirely possible, and he wouldn’t put it past the woman he personally knew nothing about, going off of the words of her that you had shared with him. But surely the only city on the planet wouldn’t go out of their way to screen the many tourists that sought out the picturesque world.
Time seemed to be moving slowly and far too fast all at the same time. Thoughts continued to consume Din, all the possibilities of what could occur, what had already occurred making him feel like he was a child once again who knew nothing of the world or how it worked. The ship’s system beeping before it shifted smoothly from traveling through hyperspace and back to sublight settings.
The planet in view was covered in vast expanses of white sand and bright blue. An ocean planet as much as a desert one. It was small, a moon to a larger planet visible in the sky even within the atmosphere as the ship descended. The only city was surrounded by a large wall, protection from the two outcroppings that looked to be a racetrack and the well-established tourist destination on either side.
Maldovan was known as a resort destination, an entire smaller sector off set from the main city. The sector looked to be abundant with hotels, spas, shopping, anything and everything to keep individuals occupied and a steady supply of credits flowing into the local economy.
Cara had suggested she be the one to guide the ship through the planet’s atmosphere, handle the communication with the intake group, and land the smaller ship into the hangar. She suggested he stay behind on the ship while she registered the ship, paying the station fee for several days. And when she returned, there was a frown on her face and a worried furrow to her brow.
The woman was frustrated, that much was obvious. Din merely watched her as she closed the ramp, turning to him and explaining what information she had gathered during the short interaction.
There were two glaringly obvious problems:
Everyone wore light, flowing coverings and outfits in order to gain access into the main part of the city.
And there were wanted posters depicting Din’s armored form.
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dividers: by the lovely @cafekitsune
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What makes a very mature and educated woman confuse the charisma of Jamie and Claire and fall behind the illusion of Sam and Cait?
Look at this picture and many others, look at Cait's smile and the happiness in her eyes
Look at the color of Tony's lips, I don't need to continue
Below this picture are many pictures of them from many years ago
This man has been a reality since 2015, so let us accept reality even if we do not like it
Note: I would love to read everything you write aside from Outlander and S&C
Dear (b)Itchy Anon,
Ah, yes. You folks are definitely a very predictable bunch, because you simply cannot help yourself and just have to do it. Every. Single. Christmas. Eve. For reasons transparent enough to make you & your kin instantly unlikeable.
I was just thinking, the other day, believe it or not. I was thinking of the disingenuous way you - or someone like you - engaged with @cb4tb on another Christmas Eve and told myself: 'I bet the farm this year it's going to be me'. And here we are, with a rather long - and also, rather curious- comment. What am I going to do with you, Anon? Just write a rather long and ironic answer to your delirious rant, what else?
Calling me 'very mature' made me spit my Pepsi - always better in Romania than the eternal Coca-Cola - and I have to dubiously and cheaply congratulate myself, too. In about six months, you were forced to transition from 'Christ, shippers are stupid' to 'Golly, some -if not most - of them really are educated people'. An apparent paradox that never made you question your surroundings.
For instance, I do not need to wear a turban, sport a cigarette holder, rent a garish tent and call myself Miss Cleo, in order to tell with eerie precision English is not your mother tongue, either. You still do have a big problem with phrasal verbs, because you couldn't have possibly meant I 'fell behind the S&C illusion', but rather that 'I fell for that illusion'. You see, falling behind is 'failing to do something in time' or 'being late with a due payment' or 'being unable to make the same progress as one's peers'. We, shippers, naturally have this kind of superpowers. And seasoned bullshit-o-meters, too.
For your information, I haven't. I explained it at length. There is no possible way to do it if one uses common sense and street smarts only. What I did see, along with thousands of other people, mind you, had absolutely -forgive me, Father, for I am about to sin again - fucking nothing to do with Seamus and Sorcha. I mean, d'oh - is this your best argument, Anon? That sad, wilted talking point? Wow. Just wow.
Then, you totally lose control and take The Scarecrow out of the closet (yes, pun totally intended), in the hope you'll make me screech with dread & horror, I suppose. Exactly which one of the five to ten max Tait pics am I supposed to look at? The one at the marathon, where he checks her pulse? The one in Australia, when he pitifully dangles that stick on a beach? The one with the flute? The fist-in-hand one? The one at this year's IFTA, where she looks through him and he begs for a smile? I shall never know, because you do not add any picture and since I am not Miss Cleo, there's no way I could ever guess. Instead, you describe Neverland in Technicolor, lips included (so help me God, I never looked at McIdiot's lips: I take pride in being mentally sound). Indeed, there is no need to continue, Anon, lest you would insist to ridicule yourself.
This man has been a (questionably) useful prop since 2016, in order to give credence to a narrative. You all know it. You all deny it. You live in a parallel reality, currently embraced by PR. Amen. That does not give you the right to police this fandom and no, your derailed zeal will not get you any Brownie points from C.
Speaking only for myself, I will tell you one last time: I will never blindly accept a convenient compromise fiction just because TPTB and/or PR tell me so.
Note: I doubt my writing interests you. I really do, because I don't deal in fanfic. And even if I am an Oriental, know flattery never worked with me. In fact, I can't stand it.
It's Christmas. Take a break from all this pathetic hatred, Anon: if you have but a cell left of humanity in yourself, you can't possibly be proud of this message and there are far more interesting and meaningful ways to spend this special day. He came for you, too. And that is the most important thing in the world, right now.
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Some angry couch warrior posting unconfirmed claim about Israel/Palestine: *10,897 reblogs*
Images and videos of daily attacks and destruction of Ukrainian cities and people: *60 reposts and mostly from Ukrainians*
I am honestly so disheartened by this world and so angry at every western leftist, and the flood of Palestinian or Israeli flags when there is no much silence now about Ukraine.
You told us we had enough support that's why you needed to focus elsewhere, so when do enough if us die for you to think us worthy of attention again?
I don't mean this to be an what about. This is just an expression of personal hurt and disappointment at the so called progressives.
And at the so called allies who defend the skies of one ally, finger wagging at them at most over what they do with their offensive weapons they give them while Ukraine begs and pleads for help, told not to hit the enemy here or there, told to watch itself or be left alone and even as Ukraine did everything it was asked for, fighting this war with hands tied and blindfolded, while it was dragged through every possible mud imaginable, belittled, and told to know it's place, it is now left alone anyway, while allies can't even manage sanctions worth a damn, while allies show concern over their oil prices, while allies debate and hand wring about Ukraine isn't NATO and escalation, another ally of theirs erases entire cities and with their weapons.
When so called progressives and allies of the oppressed spent years telling Ukrainians why the mere presence of bad elements in their country, and any mistake among any of their people in history means they should all be left to a hungry empire, don't deserve to live free, now call a terrorist organization who kidnap, rape, murder and oppress "freedom" fighters. The same people who dehumanized Ukrainians for years, called Ukraine a puppet, a proxy, a nation without a will of its own, now do the same to Palestinians, ignoring internal voices and needs. The same people told Ukraine over and over to accept its fate and give up, not to drag the world down with it, to take what they get and be fucking grateful, now demand the most useless and outlandishly impossible, uncompromising victory, who cry genocide at any suggestion of giving up, who have refused to see what life is like for Ukrainians under occupation, are now eagle eyed about why Palestinians or Israel's can't give in based on a history of abuses.
When every tragedy and massive loss of life by Ukraine was called into question, was doubted, lied about, debates, and turned over on every side to diminish the suffering, every report of every tragedy and accusations in I/P conflict is treated as gospel by thousands and then these same people turn around and mock Ukrainians for being so privileged, even as Ukraine stands increasingly alone apart from words and promises.
The hypocrisy is so blatant, so painful. Funny even when these same people point out petty instances of "bias" and "hypocrisy" of this state or that or the media.
This is not a special or unique anger and despair. This must be how many feel as the western "activists" move on to their next hip cause, presiding over tremendous suffering and deciding which one actually matters, completely blind to their own arrogance, and the colonialism of that thinking.
Then the dare, dare to use Ukraine to claim and compare to illustrate the bigger scope of the tragedy as if the losses aren't ongoing, as if soldiers aren't people, as if entire generation isn't being wiped out defending their country, as if lives can be weighted like grain. It does a disservice to all of the people involved and is moreover unnecessary. No one who doesn't yet support your cause is going to be convinced by these comparisons. It serves no benefit to raise support for one, merely feeds the self righteousness of current supporters. It only paints the other as less worthy of attention, as less important. It is a cruel and self serving act by people with no teeth in either game.
And I'm so angry.
I have no trust.
#war in ukraine#russian invasion of ukraine#stand with ukraine#russian imperialism#russia is a terrorist state
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Scar - Chapter Two
30 Days of Bad Omens @signs-of-ill-portent bingo card here
PAIRING: Jolly Karlsson x Sam (ofc)
What if your teenage daughter's fantasy became your reality?
Summary: Samantha surprises her daughter, Lyric, with tickets to see her favorite band for her sixteenth birthday. What's supposed to be one the best days of her daughter's life, also becomes hers.
CW: updated per chapter
This is a work of fiction, based on real people in fictitious situations. Please don't yuck someone else's yum; scroll on.//**
👑Royal Readers👑
@badhedonist @strawberryruffilo @crimson-calligraphyx @signs-of-ill-portent @throwingmetothelions @the-way-of-words @kingdomof-omens @thebadchic @cowpokeomens @nerdraging4point0 @deathblacksmoke @naniolimpo @sacredthefran
leave a comment if you would like to be added to the tag list
[PART ONE] [PART TWO] [PART THREE]
It’s the night of the concert and Sam finds herself at the front door yelling for her daughter, again. Sam fidgets with the hem of her worn and slightly stained Red Hot Chili Peppers shirt that she bought when she was in college umpteen years ago. That was her first concert after she and James went their separate ways.
Tonight would be another concert without him.
“If you don’t get down here, this instance you’re going to miss meeting the band.”
“Really? You’re going to pull that card?” Lyric turns the corner of the steps. “Dad essentially trained you to be early, so I know we couldn’t possibly be late for anything, like ever.” Sam just shakes her head and sighs.
“Yeah, I guess old habits die hard. You ready?”
“Hell yeah!” Lyric shouts as she pulls open the door. Sam shoots her a warning look but shakes her head as she locks the front door.
Nerves bubble in her stomach as Sam waits in the VIP line with Lyric. Memories of spontaneous gigs she and James would go to and the tours she went on before giving up the band life flash through her mind. Tears prick at the corners of her eyes as she stares at the setting sun shading the cityscape in grey.
Sam glances over to find her daughter scrolling away on her phone. She chuckles to herself and absentmindedly asks, so how did you find out about this band? Which warrants a long explanation of what TikTok and virality are. Sam counters with a “back in my day” tale of how you actually listened to the radio and watched music videos on the TV and before they know it, it’s their turn to meet the band.
He’s a lot taller than I expected, is the first thought that comes to Sam’s mind as Lyric approaches the band members. Sam starts to take a video of Lyric getting a hug from each member. A smile tugs at her lips as Noah crouches down to pull her into a small embrace.
The tears surface again when she catches Lyric's wide grin as she positions herself in the middle. In the blink of an eye, their smiling faces turn comical as Nick pulls himself up on his tiptoes to give Jolly bunny ears and Noah sticks out his tongue. Lyric laughs having the time of her life and Sam can’t help but join in the laughter.
“Come on mom” Lyric gestures over to her.
“Yeah, come on mom,” Jolly and Noah beg in unison, stepping to the side to give her room.
“No, it’s fine. It’s my daughter’s day, it's her birthday,” Sam trails off.
“Please?”
Jolly’s soft accent makes the back of Sam’s neck tingle. Heat warms her cheeks as a smile tugs at the corners of her lips.
“Fine,” she says reluctantly, shallowing down the frenzied butterflies in her stomach. She takes a deep breath to calm down whatever this is before handing her phone to one of the staff.
These guys are practically children so why I am so nervous, Sam berates herself. This is their job, their livelihood. It’s just another day for them. Nothing special right?
Sam walks over to Nicholas and shakes his hand. He has a soft smile and yet a firm grip. Noah is next, moving to the side to grasp her one hand in both of his large hands. Something in his eyes shines like he’s grateful she is here with her daughter, an extra appreciation for parents. He thanked her for coming to the show before releasing her hand.
From the corner of her vision, she watches her daughter grin. Sam remembers that Jolly is Lyric’s favorite. Seeing him in person, she can understand why. Jolly greets Sam with his native name but quickly adds that ‘she can call him Jolly’.
With their hands still entwined, Sam looks down at his rings and compliments them. When Sam looks back up at him a small blush creeps over his cheeks and he mutters a thank you. Sam smiles back at him, noticing for the first time his mystical hazel eyes; a forest she could get lost in. For a heartbeat longer they remain until Sam starts to feel eyes on her so she gently pulls away flashing him an apologetic smile.
Maybe it's a Swedish thing, Sam dismisses. When Sam approaches Nick she extends her hand and instead of shaking it, he pulls her into a bear hug. He squeezes her slightly before pulling from the embrace.
“Sorry, I’m a hugger,” Nick apologizes flashing a dazzling smile.
“It’s fine,” Sam rushes out quickly, turning to make her way back to the group. Keep your cool. Remember you are the cool mom.
Jolly mutters something incoherently behind her back and in the corner of her vision catches Nick grin wider. Sam slots herself between Jolly and her daughter. Jolly’s hand on her back is warm and comforting, instantly calming the anxiety sparking in her veins.
Sam plasters on her best smile when the countdown for the photo starts… just as Jolly whispers a joke into her ear. Her perfect smile shatters instantly and can’t stop herself from laughing hysterically, Jolly joining in, and soon the rest of the guys.
Lyric shoots her death daggers after the picture has been taken. When Sam gets her phone back she looks at the picture. Despite the chaos, Lyric has a big smile on her face as does Nicholas beside her. Nick is howling while Jolly makes a funny face as Noah struggles to keep his composure. They all looked like they were having a great time.
“Here Lyric, see? It’s not so bad.” Sam hands Lyric her phone. “Sure it might not match your Instagram aesthetic or whatever you kids are doing, but you had fun right?”
“Yeah, I guess,” handing the phone back and shuffling back in line with her mom.
“Thank you again,” Sam calls to the band from over her shoulder as they get back in line to the main entrance.
As soon as they cross the threshold, Lyric grabs her mom’s hand and drags her through the crowd of people to the barricade on the right of the stage. By some force, there is just enough space for them to stand comfortably.
“What’s-”
“Jolly is going to stand right here in all of his glory,” Lyric sighs, staring at the stage.
Rolling her eyes, Sam takes her place by her daughter as teens nearby start to bicker. Just like old times; crowd surfers, moshing, and fighting, but the best thing of all; the crowd singing every word back to the singer.
Sam tenses her shoulders and plants her feet firmly on the ground as more people shuffle around them. She imagines they will experience all of that tonight.
The first strike on the snare is all it takes to teleport Sam back to the long nights running across stage in the crowd for the perfect shot to the sweat dripping down her back as the sea of bodies ebb and flow against her with James trying his best to cage her from the crowd. Although it's just the opening band, the crowd is energized and Sam gets lost in it. She sways to the beat, her body moves in muscle memory.
“Just like old times,” the whispered memory of her late husband jolts Sam’s eyes apart. It’s then she realizes Lyric is screaming beside her, not in horror but in absolute awe as a tall man dressed head to toe in black and a ski mask approaches them.
The distorted sound emanating from his guitar strings is like a call to the wild and the crowd erupts. In this brief moment, he controls the crowd, but to Sam, it feels like an eternity.
She swears he winks at her before taking a step back allowing another man dressed in a black coat and ski mask to jaunt across the stage. His height alone gives way to disguise, the one everyone wants to see. Everyone but Sam, as her gaze remains fixed on a pair of hazel eyes staring back at her.
By the end of the set, Sam is breathless from jumping and singing along with the crowd. When she peers over at her daughter, she finds Lyric's face to be flush and the biggest grin on her face. Sam’s heart tightens at the sight. It has been so long since Lyric has had something to look forward to, something to be excited about since her father’s passing.
Guilt grips Sam’s stomach for a brief moment until she notices the sign Lyric holds proudly above her head. She turns her attention back to the now empty stage, as the lights come on, signaling the end of the show.
The crowd around them scatters as people exit the venue, but Sam and Lyric remain planted firm. Suddenly, cheering and loud applause fill Sam’s ears and in the corner of her vision, she spots bodies shuffling in the dark. Both of the Nicholas’ saunter in from stage right clapping and cheering with the crowd. Sam clocks Nicholas’ long hair wrapped in a tight bun like at the beginning of the show.
Lyric’s shrill pulls Sam’s attention from the Nicks as she follows her daughter’s gaze to Jolly whose usually passive face cracks into a wide grin when he tracks her poster ‘GUITARISTS DO IT BETTER! IT’S MY BIRTHDAY!!!’ Sam inwardly groans because she forgot Lyric packed the sign in her bag, as she silently shakes her head she catches Jolly tossing Lyric his guitar pick. Sam’s brows knit together as she watches Jolly crouch down to the security guard in front of them and whisper something in his ear.
“You two come with me,” the security guard says swiftly. Sam looks at the security and then back at Jolly who simply winks at her before turning away.
“Mom, what does this mean?” Lyric looks over her shoulder at her mother as the security guard gestures for them to follow him.
“I have no idea, Lyric.” With all of her experience in the music scene, nothing could prepare Sam for what happens next.
#jolly karlsson fic#jolly karlsson fanfic#jolly karlsson smut#jolly karlsson fanfiction#bad omens fanfiction#bad omens fic#bad omens smut#bad omens rpf#jolly karlsson x ofc#jolly x ofc#ofc fic#band rpf#single mom trope#dad omens#30 days of bad omens#fic: scar#ladyveronikawrites
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Hi Makenzie
It's the anon with the partner with the 4 hour plateau period again (this seems to be the quickest way to clue you in about who this is again) and I'm glad to say I've taken your advice to heart and slept on it. Yesterday my partner and me had a "fight" (between "" because we just talked openly about what bothered us and there was no shouting, threatening or physical violence, which I am extremely happy about but also makes it hard for my brain to catalogue it as a fight- let's just say it's good this is my first relationship, huh?) about a situation they pushed me into despite my earlier protests and how I shut down afterwards -we're good!- and I brought up how the sexual stuff has been weighing on me. I told them what you told me re: sexual incompatibility and breaking up and they basically immediately apologised, told me sex isn't that big of a deal to them after all and that they don't think we have to break up over it.
I've been fearing our first fight since we started dating, but I'm glad to be able to report that it actually helped strenghten our relationship: I now know I have to work on being more assertive around my boundaries instead of pussyfooting around them and they promised they will do their utmost to listen when I say I don't feel up for stuff.
As for the comments on that original post who expressed their concern about me: please don't worry! I'm good! My partner is one of the sweetest people I know, even if they can be hard-headed (and of hearing) sometimes. They did not willingly pressure me into anything, and the one time they did disregard my 'no' (about a social thing, don't worry!) they really regret and we will both work to ensure that won't happen again.
Thanks for everything!
hi anon,
oh boy! I'm certainly glad to hear you and your partner were able to have a disagreement without physical violence (although unspeakably concerned that you feel the need to specify that and sound so relieved about it), and it's good that you were able to express your needs about sex. like I said in my last answer, the two of you not having sex with each other anymore was like... the bare minimum of what needed to change here.
now, having said that, I'm going to be so real with you: for eight years now I've tried to keep it pretty neutral in my responses and meet my anons where they're at instead of passing judgment, but based on everything you've told me in your two asks I do not like this relationship at all and your partner sounds like they kind of suck.
here's literally all the info I have based on the two asks you have sent me: you met your partner a month ago and, in your own words, they "upended my understanding of myself by somehow making it so we're in a relationship together." in the month you've been together, your partner has
told you (their transmasculine partner) that they wished your body looked more like actresses in porn
told you "on the very first day" that they need to get off only to do a switcheroo when you brought up the idea of breaking up
made you feel wildly insecure in your relationship for your lack of interest in sex
pushed you into a situation that you were actively protesting, re: your fight from this ask, with a possible SECOND instance of this based on your last paragraph
straight up if you were one of my friends talking about your relationship this way I would be BEGGING you to break up with them. this is an insane amount of emotional distress for a MONTH
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Hi! I've been going through your blog (bc its so good?!?! Thank you so much for writing so much Bakugou content!!!!) and just got really inspired by your Dragon King Bakugou universe to write about something urging reader to leave. I hope it's okay but I wanted to share what came out of it:
---
You had to leave.
Rumours of a vengeful vagabond out for Dragon King Bakugou's blood had spread. Although this is not the first and certainly would not be the last person seeking revenge, this particular instance caught your attention. Every descriptor about him was deeply familiar to you and, beyond your wildest hopes, reminds you of your brother. And so, you had to leave.
It was simple really, almost laughingly so. All you had to do was request for some extra furs here, a larger bag there, and oh, you were fancying some cured meats lately! No matter what you asked for, they were brought to you immediately, for you were the woman cherished by the dragon king himself. His greatest prize. You had packed all the necessities as well as some of the jewels and gold Bakugou insisted on lavishing you with.
Just take it, woman. You know we dragons love to have shiny things and you're mine so of course my woman is going to have the best jewels.
Your heart squeezes at the memory of his brash words paired with his gentle hands as he adorned you with his spools. Physically leaving was easy, yes; steeling your resolve was the hard part.
---
Taking one last look behind you at the castle you had called home for so many moons, you take a breath.
"So you're gonna leave just like that?" You freeze, heart stopping at the sound of his voice. You had been so careful.
And you were, spacing your requests out between other mundane ones to not let anyone draw connections. But this was Bakugou, how could he not have known when he memorizes every breath you take. When he commits all your favourite things to heart so he can bring you more to make up for everything he has taken. When he is so painfully aware that he fell for a woman who could never love him with all that she is.
"I'm sorry...my King"
He scoffs "Am I still your king even when you are leaving?"
And though you cannot bear to look into his eyes, swirling with hurt, betrayal, and anger, you must because he deserves at least that much. "You will always have a piece of me."
"But never the entirety, right" his distain masking what he really wants to say stay, please. But how could he ask you to choose him over your family, to take yet another important thing away from you again, to ask you to choose him when you never had a choice in coming here in the first place.
Your lips set into a thin line, holding back the lump in your throat and the comforting words you wanted to give him. Because at the end of the day he was right, he could never have you entirely, not when your brother might be out there. Your brother, who helped raise you, cherish you, and mourned you and everyone he knew when he came back to a pile of rubble. You had to go back to him, you had to let him know that he is not alone in the world and maybe you can distract him enough to stop his quest for vengeance.
Seeing the resolve in your eyes strengthen spurns Bakugou to try even though he knows he is fighting a losing battle "Is there nothing I can do to make you stay? I would get on my knees to beg if you so wishes it, just say the word."
"Bakugou if you really loved me then let me leave. If you do not, then you can command me to stay." And that is what seals it. Dragon King Bakugou who has never lost a fight in his life, for the first time cannot fight back. Because no matter what may come to pass, if there is one truth in the world it is surely that he loves you.
And so he turns around, tears in his eyes and heart in his throat, no matter how hard he tried, it was never be enough to change how you two started. "Go," he chokes out, "before I regret it"
"Thank you," you whisper, the wind carrying your voice over "Katsuki." And you're off, running into the distance, free. The complete opposite of how you arrived, strapped to the saddle of a dragon.
That was the first time, Katsuki thinks, and the last. That you've ever called him by his name.
#and then months later when katsuki is starting to become numb to the pain #only because he keeps fighting and fighting and fighting to the point of exhaustion so he has no more energy to think about you #but he always has energy when it comes to you #especially when he fists his cock at night to the memory of his name on your lips #anyways months later you're at the doorsteps of his castle #this time of your own free will #his heart nearly stops at the sight of you #at the scent of you #he thinks its a hallucinations #until you step forward and say his name #somehow its so much sweeter than his memory of it and thats when he starts to realize that this is real #and you stay for good #and maybe that was the first time katsuki was given instead of him taking #i love reading your tags but i don't think that really works in an ask but this is me trying to emulate
Ahhh thank you so much!
I love the angst of this. Like it pains you to leave, but you’re doing it because you know what your brother is capable of and what might happen if you stay.
And I can imagine that moment where Bakugou catches you, and you want him to tell you to stay because it’s gonna physically hurt you to leave him, but you know deep down it’s what you have to do.
And you spend all the time away from him longing for him? And he’s doing the exact same— but maybe he becomes more ruthless, more cold? Because he’s lost the only thing in his life worth having. No amount of riches or kingdoms can compare— and you find out that he’s planning an attack on your brother so you have to stop it? To explain to him the real reason why you left😭
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Hold Me: Shuri x Black! Fem! Reader
tw// spoilers, grief, crying, implied nsfw…ig?, panic attack….kinda
this one is angsty with some hurt + comfort
a/n: i ain’t edit this cuz it’s midnight n im tired as hell so sorry for spelling or grammar errors. i’ll clean it up in the morning. and pls lmk if you all liked this cuz comments or messages motivate me and also help me know if my work sucks 😋🫶🏽
A rush of cold air hit your torso just to be replaced by your warm sheets and comforter seconds later. However the feeling of your girlfriend’s body against yours was no longer there. The other side of the bed remain empty for minutes as you stirred in and out of sleep repeatedly. Eventually you came to the conclusion that you wouldn’t be falling back asleep until your girlfriend was back in your bed.
You shuffled your slipper clad feet against the palace floors until you reached Shuri’s lab. The sound of your feet dragging against the floor got her attention along with a “Pick up your feet” in your direction. However all you heard were hushed mutters and clinking if different tools in her workspace.
So not to scare her you softly called out, “Shuri?” The queen didn’t reply the first, second, or third time you called her name. You approached her from behind and slipped your arms around her waist, resting your head against her shoulder blade. The sudden touch startled her attention for a split second, but she immediately went back to tinkering with whatever she had in front of her.
Exhaustion was evident in your voice as you hummed, “Come back to bed, baby.” Shuri answered in a monotone, “You can go. I will be back soon.” Your hands fell from her body and you stood beside her, “Shuri.” The queen didn’t reply once again but the tears welling in her eyes and the way she bit her lip were telling enough of what was going through her head. You placed a hand on her wrist and your other lifted her head so her gaze could meet yours. Her eyes flickered back to her hands but you lightly lowered them, letting her put down her things.
Many things could go unsaid between the two of you and your eyes were enough to convey your feelings. Shuri gave you a subtle nod and lowered her head as she let you guide her from her lab and back to her chamber. You closed the bedroom door then turned to walk back to bed but Shuri stopped you before you could take a step. Her hand pushed you lightly back until you hit the door, and she placed a heated kiss to your lips.
For a moment you let her, allowing yourself to get wrapped up in what she was offering. Until you felt her pull at your pajama shirt and you came to your senses. Her actions were more frantic and rushed than usual as she fumbled with the hem of your top. Immediately you pulled away and pushed her lightly, “No. We aren’t doing this right now.” Shuri’s eyes brimmed over with tears and she shook her head, “No please- Y/N I need this.” In another instance you’d easily do whatever she wanted at those words. However you knew her intentions differed greatly from that.
Shaking fingers grasped your top and you held them down, pulling her hands from your clothes and into your own. Your girlfriend anxiously rambled as she started sobbing, somewhere along the way all you managed to understand was “I need you.” Your heart shattered at the sight, hearing the desperation in her voice as she begged you over and over. But you knew this wasn’t the right way to help her because this wasn’t what she actually needed.
You held Shuri’s hands firmly and pushed her against the wall this time. She choked on her sobs as you looked her in the eye, “You’re not in the right state of mind for this Shuri.” The queen refused and insisted, “I am- please I need you.” You told her firmly, “You have me. I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere.” The resistance in her hands slowly decreased and you let them go. You pulled her into your arms cautiously and she sobbed as you held her closer.
Tears soaked through the sleeve of top as you carried Shuri back to bed. Her fingers curled around the fabric of your shirt as she held into you for dear life. You let your hand rub her back soothingly as she cried out for her deceased family members. She begged you, “Hold me- please just don’t let me go.”
You sucked in a deep breath to swallow back the tears that threatened to fall, “I got you, my love. I promise I’m never letting go.”
#black panther fanfiction#black panther wakanda forever#black wlw#shuri fanfiction#shuri x black!reader#shuri x reader#shuri x y/n#shuri udaku#shuri fic#princess shuri#queen shuri#shuri imagine#shuri angst#mcu shuri#shuri hurt comfort#shuri fluff
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Deadlock (Go Child!)
Every instance of inspiration in my weary heart is running dry/And every melody is swiftly wearing thin/But even though I can't push past this mental trap no matter what I try/A voice inside me beckons me to try again
"it's about how sometimes you can't get inspiration and you just feel DOWN because of it! I love this song and I feel it almost everyday"
No Place In Heaven (Mika)
For every love I had to hide/And every tear I ever cried/I'm down on my knees/I'm begging You, please-/There's no place in Heaven for someone like me/Won't You open the door and try me once more?/Cause there's no place in Heaven for someone like me./There's no place in Heaven.
"Ugh horrible I am literally crying while typing those lyrics how embarrassing. My Diocese voted five years ago to acknowledge the status of and bless same-sex marriages. I've been a Christian my whole life and am heavily involved in service roles in the church, and our vicar at the time was a colossal homophobe. He was so ghastly about the whole thing that even congregants who were uncomfortable with same-sex marriage thought he handled it poorly. I'm very queer, but unintentionally very stealth about it, and I got engaged to my partner during all this: despite him also being queer we're a straight passing relationship, and I had to sit with the discomfort of the fact that people were ~thrilled~ for us... because we looked right. But by everything we were being lectured on at the time (and said vicar's rhetoric was honestly that of an aspiring cult leader) our relationship was wrong even as it stood, let alone if we'd been the same gender (which is something we've discussed a lot both because of my own loose relationship with gender and because his prenatal scans were misinterpreted and his parents were told he was girl). And knowing that people weren't happy for *us*, they were happy for what they thought we represented made us gag. But we couldn't say anything openly because the vicar was stomping on open dissent to his views (despite the fact that the WIDER church DID disagree with him). I heard this song for the first time during that. I don't even remember where. But it was SO cathartic to sing along to, and I actually don't cry easily but this song let me get so many of those ugly tears out. The story has a relatively happy ending btw: same-sex marriages CAN be blessed, that vicar threw a tantrum, left and DID set up his own cult, and we now have a priest who is a lot more compassionate and accepting and is actively working to heal the pain and mistrust the first guy caused."
Poll Runner: So many of you have left beautiful, personal descriptions of these songs and how much they mean to you, and honestly I love them all, but this one is honest to god my favourite. It's just so raw and real and made me feel so many feelings (I'm queer and grew up in a fairly homophobic community). The submitter didn't want their url on the poll post for privacy reasons, but they told me that if anyone reading this wants to reach out to them over being a queer Christian, then they can message me (the poll runner) to get their url.
Deadlock submitted by @rook-reaper
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I'm sure you've seen this post:(https://stillasunbeam.tumblr.com/post/722408222997315584)
I just saw it today, after seeing the fic from spirallingstarcases and have many thoughts. First, 'cornflower blue, I miss missing you' I love that. But also this is on an AB/AP era setlist when Miss Missing You is long since written....so like are these alternate lyrics? Or....reinterpreted lyrics? Why are they writing on the setlist? Cornflower blue obviously also gives us a much more direct linkage to Patrick. Second, hello Grudge lyrics in 2015! Another instance of Patrick squirreling lyrics away for later.
I am absolutely FASCINATED by this. Like, first of all, I love the evidence, that we hear Pete mention here and there, that he gets hit by turns of phrase that he wants to write down at all random times. He says that when he's driving he has whoever he's with (he often implies recently that this is poor Bronx lol) jot down like three words for him so he can remember the thought when he gets home. So, these seem complete, but maybe they're also reminders to himself of even more stuff, in which case "sometimes I miss missing you" could be a reference to the song to remind himself of something else he means to do.
But also, I've always theorized that Patrick is the one who wrote the "I miss missing you" line, in answer to Pete's original line, which was "I miss you missing me." If that is indeed the case, this isn't so much Pete reusing his old lyrics as it is him taking one of Patrick's and fully enfolding it into his words, making it his own.
Either way, whether the original line was Pete's or Patrick's, it doesn't surprise me that Pete might write them down again, might not even in the moment remember that they've already been used. That might sound ridiculous, but let me tell you how many things I have forgotten writing, because it is a LOT, so it wouldn't surprise me if sometimes Pete literally forgets that he's used a turn of phrase already. And if a writer liked a turn of phrase the first time they came up with it, they tend to like it again the second time it occurs to them.
I tend to believe that, even though Patrick forgets lyrics in the heat of the moment at concerts sometimes, he has a decent memory for the lyrics of Pete that he's already used, because, as you note, he seems to keep records of them and go back to them later, so he seems to have a pretty good idea of the universe he's working in. And we know that he deliberately reuses them sometimes. But it could also be that Pete sometimes gives him the same lyric more than once and that puts the idea in Patrick's head.
The "Grudge" lyric showing up there is interesting because they've said "Grudge" was the last song written for the album and that Pete had sent Patrick a bunch of new lyrics because he had decided he wasn't satisfied with the lyrics they already had for the album, and he apparently was like, "Can we use some of these instead?" and instead of using any of them to replace the lyrics they already had (I get the impression Pete wants to change the lyrics FOREVER, he's never happy with them, and Patrick just ignores him), he read them and immediately heard a whole new song and begged Neal to let him add one more song to the album. So that means that either most of the lyrics of "Grudge" were from that new set and Patrick supplemented with some old ones, or the "demand you have no fun" line was in the lyrics Pete sent Patrick and he as the one who recycled it.
I suppose part of me wonders how Patrick would ever even have gotten these lyrics. Like, does Pete just constantly hand across scribbled scraps of paper to Patrick, like, "here you go. some lyrics"???? I love this, I am endlessly charmed by this, I really hope that's exactly how it happens and Patrick's got this messy pile of scraps of paper that he tries to organize and make sense of. I know they've referenced them coming by email in the modern era, but I blame the pandemic for that lol.
Finally, just my last point on this, I read this differently than the transcript on the post says. First, I know the transcript says "Let me know you say," but I originally read it as "Let me know you stay," and then realized that's not what it seems to say, but it looks a lot "Let me know you shy," which also makes no sense. It could very well be "say," that fits and makes some sense but also seems incomplete, so I'm not sure that's the whole line. (And I still like my original misreading of "Let me know you stay" the best.)
Finally, the transcript reads it as:
you'd be no one without me
but it feels too dark
cornflower blue
sometimes I miss missing you
I actually read it as:
you'd be no one without me
cornflower blue
but it feels too dark
sometimes I miss missing you
It's so squeezed in there, I'm not entirely sure which is right, I think it's ambiguous.
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What was your favourite tickling experience?
💀💀💀💀 I already know the ler behind this is smirking and gonna get even more gassed tf up 🙄🙄 and in advance for that fuck you 🖕🖕
Anyway... 🙈
My favourite would have to be when I met up with a ler I've been wanting to meet for a very very long time. 🩷 It wasn't an ideal circumstance and we didn't have much time at all buuuut I feel like I was the most excited to see him because of how long we have been chatting as well which 🙈 is also why I think it's my favourite
Buuuut he just kept wrecking me like how he said he would and already knows which spot I love and attacked that predominantly which 💀 not to mention he pinned me a little too well (despite him saying "that wasn't even his best" 🙄🙄)
Aaaaaand there were just some other cutesy shit that happened which I am too shy to post in public but 💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀 it was just v cute and he made me completely melted andbwhfjshfsjf I can't wait to hopefully meet him again soon 🩷
He also kept teasing that spot while asking me to beg him for twords and proceeding to wreck me which ???????? Tf even is that 😤🙄 honestly I think it was just a combo of him going after my favourite spot predominantly and making me 🤡 beg 🤡 and the cutesy shit that made it my "favourite"
That being said I've genuinely loved every instance I've been tworded and just loved all of my sessions as well and each one was unique and amazing and I love them all ❤️
I also now need to somehow get swole so his stupid eye rolling cute ass can't just fuckin overpower me in 2 seconds and then fkin roast me about being weak 😤
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