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#it feels like official lore to me by now

plush4bunny · 10 months

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pov: a sorcerer you've met from another universe came back to save your from a war because he couldn't bear to let you go

you have to read go @chrism02's fic on Maxim Horvath falling in love with the sorcerer supreme (you) called "In the end game" to know how this shenanigan ended and started 😉

#ITS WILD I SWEAR TO GOD #it feels like official lore to me by now #alfred molina #maxim horvath #maxim horvath x reader #the sorcerer’s apprentice #sorcerer's apprentice #fanart #character design #illustration #my art

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master-k0hga · 1 month

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| T A M I R A |

[ Category: The Promised Land ]

| This is Tamira, or Tammy for short before I actually gave her a full on name lmao- She's the partner of the chieftain of the Frostclaw Traders tribe, Takeshi. Tammy runs a Pharmacy with Andy as her assistant (a previous boy I introduced like a while ago); She is very good when it comes to medical diagnostics and even making her own healing and medicinal remedies too! Which are a very recommended source of keeping yourself safe from sickness and injuries in the harshest bone chilling winter of the Glacier Mountains Resort (and just in the cold mountains in general, it can get really ruthless out there!)

... Hoping I'll ever be able to actually draw the landscapes of this land someday cuz poorly putting it into words does it no justice and writing and describing environments is definitely NOT my strong suit whatsoever.. I draw for a fcking reason, words don't bode well for my struggling brain

... Fun fact, she is my second trans female OC that I have.... I'mean it's not rly a fun fact since nobody gives a damn but I love her very much and I really enjoy her design quite a lot here! Ofc like all my other OCs who are part of the Frostclaw, she was also a Yiga roughly during the time BotW first came out.. Still was trans then as she is now but just part of a personal project for me now-

☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆ ☆

INFO

Name: Tamira Species: Ice Elf General Personality: Shy, timid, supportive, easy going, hardworking, friendly, empathetic Height: 7ft "2" Relationship Status: In a relationship

Extra Info:

Works and is in charge of the Pharmacy along with anything relating to medical and hospitality within the small town; And her staff mainly consist of not only average healthy lifestyles, but also those who have had history or a rough past of health complications or addictions

She's also a part time therapist and assistant for the leader of the town, who is also her partner; Takeshi. She files and deals with important phone calls and paperwork whilst he is better and more vocal with meetings with other outside leaders and such

She loves to sew in her free time, it soothes her and definitely helps with her stresses of life and her job, which is the burden of carrying everyone's problems and health; Which she believes she has to deal with herself, to which she really doesn't and has been told several times by her protective boyfriend. It's also thanks to Tammy for the productive and comfortable design and advantage the clothing that the Frostclaw wear

Her mother died from an illness when she was young and her father had eventually succumbed to his dementia when he got older, she never got the chance to tell her parents of her coming out as trans years ago. Not caring whether they would've accepted her or not since she would have Takeshi to support her, she personally believes there is now unfinished business with her parents

Enjoys hot baths, however needs to bathe by herself as she is still self conscious about her body

Has gotten angry, like full on angry on a couple of occasions; One time getting mad at her assistant at the Pharmacy she runs (Andy) for being rather discriminatory about one of her then clients at the time, safe to say he kept his mouth shut about judging others and overtime started being influenced by Tammy's empathic nature.. Even though he's still a dick

Is a vegetarian, she used to eat meat from time to time as a kid however became very off put by it one day when she was in her teens after accidentally witnessing someone from the outside walls disrespectfully mutilate a lamb. She has not eaten meat since and has gone for more animal free alternatives to most products like butter, milk and cheese

Her grandparents owned a farm just outside the town that she sometimes manages along with a couple other volunteers; She has at least two of some animals likes pigs, cows, sheep, chickens and goats along with a few other critters that are not known nor exist in our worlds. Her grandparents passed the rights to the farm to her in their will before they died.

Despite not doing it directly to hurt something or someone but in case she is in need of defending herself; She's actually rather skilled with a bow, even going so far as to shoot three arrows at a time. Only times she's ever "used" it however was to ward off potential trespassers or poachers trying to get close to her grandparent's farm; Especially as said farm is now under the protection of the Golden Palace

+ + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + + +

I think that's all I have for her right now, I didn't really have all that much for Tammy when I started re-purposing my former Yiga OCs back on DA, I was pretty much starting out on trying to figure out what I wanted to do for them at the time so... Pretty much this is her new purpose now, I think it kinda fits for someone such as her... She's free, but she also has morals that more people definitely need in this world..

Now I just need to finish off her boyfriend Takeshi since his re-design sketch has been sitting collecting dust in my files for literal months.. I think I made him before Tammy as well so like?? Weird tbh??

But he's just his stoic and kinda scary, while also being a very kind self so... Yeah Idk..

. Tamira, Art © Me . DON’T RE-POST .

#MASTER-K0HGA #Ary / Kohga Chronicles #Ary / Kohga OCs and Works #Tammy #Tamira #OC #transfemale #trans #Ice Elf #Frosclaw #Frostclaw Traders #The Promised Land #Original Character #My OC #My Character #My Art #Fandomless #Just realized I don't rly need to use the re-post tags anymore cuz now I'm actually getting to new stuff now or new versions of my OC #drawings that I'm posting on this blog here.. So from here on out even if you recognize an OC of mine somewhat... I'm most likely re-drawin #them anyways cuz some old designs are kinda not good.... Like at all in my opinion so Idk... oh well don't matter #I feel like I'm actually almost close to done when it specifically comes to the Frostclaw tribe #Cuz as I said all of them were Yiga OCs one time before I decided to re-purpose them officially and stuff back on DA..#But I believe I just have the odd few to get on with then they'll be all done for now til I've completely finish off all my OC refs and stu #Then I can get on with proper like world building. lore and all that sorts afterwards!#Which I'm kinda looking forward to but also dreading at the same time cuz I am not rly good with stuff other than OCs and #Humanoid like designs and characters.... And tbh I'm doing this all by myself. I have no one helping me here so I know it's gonna be like..#Wonky... In some areas and whatnot... But anyways that's enough from me for tonight- I'm already tired and I just got on my laptop today #.... Not like this won't already be over a week or a month since the last art spam anyways.. And nobody looked at any of it last time...!#So... Yeah... Whatever... Not like I have anybody to speak to anyways so whatever who cares...-

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fangsandfeels · 7 months

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The vagueness of Astarion sleeping mechanics drives me mad sometimes

So, the game says that elves don't sleep - to the point where it's ironically stated that the only way for them to experience sleeping is to either drink a potion of Angelic Slumber or "get hit really hard with a chair".

Instead, they enter a semi-aware meditative state (Revery) where they experience memories from their past lives (usually most positive and emotional parts). Or they just sorting through their current memories.

Now, we've seen Astarion meditating if his way of lying on a bedroll is anything to go by. He is also immune to sleeping spells. We could also see him sleeping (in a Durge run). I know that devs technically recycle the same sleeping pose for all romanced companions, but still. Also, Astarion has nightmares, which is not typical for elves.

Of course, when I was going through the lore, I scratched the surface, but from what I understood, Revery is supposed to be a controlled state, and nightmares aren't exactly controlled.

But, I've found a very interesting bit that (so far) is still considered part of the official canon:

Elves can sleep and dream just like any human, but almost all surface elves avoid doing so. Dreams, as humans know them, are strange and confusing to elves. Unlike the actual memories of one’s primal soul, present life, or past lives, dreams are uncontrolled products of the subconscious, and perhaps the subconscious minds of those past lives or primal souls as well. An elf who dreams must always wonder whose mind these thoughts first arose from, and why. Priests of Sehanine Moonbow are an exception: they sleep and dream to receive signs from their god, and elves consult such priests to interpret their own dreams."

From: Mordenkainrn's Tome Of Foes, Chapter 2: Elves

And not only does this little bit explain a lot, but it also provides some food for your fic writing purposes.

Now, I'm entering the headcanon territory, so be warned.

Astarion's access to Revery got horribly fucked up after he had been Turned. Not only does he no longer have access to his previous lives since he is technically dead and plucked from the cycle, but he also can't even have his happy or good memories before he became a spawn. Even if they are still there, somewhere in the memory palace, getting to them requires going through the catalog of traumatic and painful memories he acquired after being enslaved by Cazador. It's like running through a burning house trying to rescue your family photo - and the hall gets longer each time. So, entering a trance means confronting the worst memories of his life over and over because there is nothing else there.

Due to this Astarion may resort to sleeping, which elves don't usually do. Elves don't like dreams because dreams are subconscious, and they can't be controlled, which scares them. For Astarion, however, it means there is a chance of him subconsciously dreaming of something nice or just being blissfully empty. However, it doesn't safeguard him from nightmares which (because they are the product of his unconsciousness) get even more twisted than simple memories.

Additionally, there can be a possibility that after becoming a spawn he got cut off from meditation and trances completely, relying on sleeping only: at least, the cut spawn epilogue by Withers mentions how while Astarion needs to sleep again, he doesn't sleep alone. While we don't know what that means exactly (and whether it will ever be implemented in the game), I assume that the tadpole gave him the ability to meditate back, but it was a small improvement because his memory headspace no longer holds happy memories capable of offering solace or refuge.

So, my personal headcanon is that he switches between meditating and sleeping depending on how aware he needs to be, and whatever option feels less torturous at the moment.

For instance, in his Origin run, when he remembers the moment of Cazador carving scars into him, he is in a trance. Which is why the memory is so horribly vivid, as if he is reliving it anew.

However, when he has a nightmare where Cazador finds him, he is sleeping and experiencing a memory affected by his subconsciousness. Which is why he jolts himself awake and desperate to know the limits of his freedom.

So, yes, the man literally can't catch a break.

On a happier note (and for your hurt/comfort fanfiction purposes), once Astarion starts traveling with Tav and the group, his memory bank gets updated with memories that are actually fun and nice, so he has something to linger upon when he is meditating. Sleeping gradually becomes a bit more pleasant experience because his subconsciousness got more material to work with, so the quality of his non-controlled dreams has to gradually improve.

#baldur's gate 3 #bg3 astarion #astarion #astarion brainrot #dnd elves are strange #feel free to correct me if i goofed up #because it's quite likely i goofed up

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deconstructthesoup · 5 months

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Okay, now that all of the Bad Kids have their new art out... I can finally freak out/gush over/analyze it, because I didn't have the energy to do posts for every single one.

GUYS

Fig!!! My girl!!! The mismatched shoelaces! The bass guitar from Gorthalax! The phoenix feather earring for Ayda! The fishnet! The classic leather jacket/gray band shirt/red pleated skirt combo! The fingerless gloves! THE CHAIN WALLET!

KRISTEN IS BUTCH. Let me repeat that---KRISTEN! IS! BUTCH! And she's wearing the yellow jumpsuit that we saw in her figurine but she still has the purple in her backpack and her staff and her TIE-DIE SPORTS BRA! And she's got a new hairstyle! And a rainbow bracelet AND a lesbian bracelet! THE TEDDY BEAR! THE ICE CREAM SANDWICHES!

RIZ HAS AN UNDERCUT AND GLASSES AND HE KEPT HIS TATTOOS!!!! We've got the briefcase! We've got the angelic weapons! We've got the sword of shadows! We've got GADGETS! WE EVEN HAVE ARO/ACE RINGS! He looks so cool and nifty and crafty and BADASS! My boy has grown!

Gorgug. Oh my god, I can FEEL the "going into a worry" energy radiating from this. But he's got the axe! He's got artificer goggles and tools and a rucksack! He's FINALLY got the emo ripped jeans that he always deserved! He looks so sweet and huggable and perfect! AND HE HAS THE BIG HEADPHONES STILL!

ADAINE. My god. I love this girl so much and her art is perfect. She has patches on her jacket! We can see the cool design on her shirt! She's got high-fantasy boots and belts and she's got her new arcane sword! BOGGY IS THERE! And she looks so lovely and cool and her hair, oh my god, her hair is perfect! I'm so proud of her!

And lastly, the man, the myth, the LEGEND. Fabian looks perfect. Everything from the sword to the sheet to the expression to the tap shoes is spot-on. And his outfit? He's got harem pants! He's got a stylish shirt! He's got wraps around his hands! He's doing a dance move! Man-bun Fabian is now officially canon!

(Also, I'm never gonna shut up about how the Bad Kids are now all spellcasters, and almost all of them are different than how they were in freshman year because that's how growing up works! Fig's ditched College of Whispers as she learns to be truer to herself and has claimed the coolness of College of Lore, and she's got some warlock action to be closer to her dad! Kristen's a Twilight Domain cleric instead of the Life Domain, and I remember being so excited when that became official because that domain is so freaking cool! Riz is an Arcane Trickster, just! Like! Penny! Gorgug's an artificer as well as a barbarian, which is one of my favorite classes, and it looks like he's leaning even further into it! And we can't forget Fabian double-classing as a College of Swords bard! It's so beautiful! It's amazing! Maybe we'll get Adaine doing a martial multiclass to round out the "we're doing different things!" ANYTHING'S POSSIBLE!)

#dimension 20 #fantasy high #fantasy high junior year #fig faeth #fabian seacaster #adaine abernant #adaine o'shaughnessey #riz gukgak #gorgug thistlespring #kristen applebees #i'm never gonna shut up about this art #it's healed me i swear to god it's perfect

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lqfiles · 3 months

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SCORE THAT GOAL! — 51. be your boyfriend?

previous — master list —next

notes ; a short chapter but one more official chapter after this !!!

BONUS — wc: 494

“okay, so next time i’m not letting you choose what we’re watching.” jisung placed the laptop aside before stretching his limbs on his bed. from beside him, you let out a laugh as you stretched your arms as well, leaning towards jisung by the end of it. “i’m sorry, but i love the winx club, i’m just trying to familiarise you with the lore.” jisung turned his head to look at you, stoic expression changing to a soft smile.

“right, because watching a movie made halfway through the series definitely helps me get familiar.” jisung chuckled before sitting up with his hands stretched behind him. “well, i thought of binge watching the first season but i didn’t wanna overwhelm you with all of that.” you continued to lay on jisung’s bed, playing with the hem of your shirt.

“by the way, i told jeno to not tell anyone about what happened friday.” jisung revealed, looking back your way to watch your reactions. you shrugged. “that’s okay, mark wouldn’t go around tattling so i don’t mind keeping it a secret. but i don’t know how long i’ll be able to keep it a secret from ningning, im sure she’ll find out.” you continued to play with the edge of your clothing and jisung hummed.

“let’s just not say anything at all? let them find out themselves.” jisung decided to lay back down next to you, gazing up at his ceiling. “so what now?” he questioned. “this is the part where you ask to be my boyfriend.” you grinned, turning sideways to look at jisung’s side profile. caught of guard, a slight blush crept up his neck before he moved up a bit, turning his body sideways after.

“alright, i don’t even know how to do this.” jisung awkwardly laughed but the look of endearment on your face made him feel much more comfortable. “it’s okay, i can do the honours.”

“no need, just give me a second.” jisung breathed in and out before taking ahold of your hand. the small gesture made you want to hide your face and you couldn’t look up at him anymore. “look at me?” jisung requested in a whisper.

you looked up to see jisung stare right at you. whether it was the lighting or his eyes itself, the way they glimmered as they looked into yours made you feel almost under a trance. jisung squeezed your hand to bring your attention back to him.

“(—), this will sound cliché but i truly do believe that i’ve never liked someone this much before. the thought of you being with anyone that isn’t me sounds wrong and i’d rather that possibility not come true, so.. will you let me be your boyfriend?”

jisung’s proposal put your mind into a frenzy and your heart did a thousand flips. nodding your head profusely, you wrapped your arms around jisung’s neck before pulling yourself closer to him.

“i’d love to more than anything else.”

TAGLIST ; @rksbae @222brainrot @severefireangelprune @violetvoo @prdshobi @kikookii @haechansbbg @en-dream @bbxnny-bbxtch @cvpidxo @jaeminslattes @90s-belladonna @softieluvsyou @wenjunblossoms @be0mluver @jeongintwt @myhaechan @love1again @ckline35 @cassie6392 @hibernatinghamster @starboys-gf @rllymark @mfaal @snflwrhaerecs4u @sunflowerbebe07 @ahnneyong @enhalovie @galacticpurpl3 @manooffline @luv4jeno @mikadorbs @1moo7 @ksywoo @ohdudehesflirting @savluvsmingi @finnydraws @invumi @crvzy-fujoshi @peterparkerluvvbot @hrjunluvs @i2kittenz @jisungji @http-peachie @jisyng @sweetcandycum @giaccolo @shotaroswifeyily @sinsgaybutthatsokay @be-my-sunrise @syzavxy @kyusqult @mxlly143 @o-schist @bigjishirt @snuglyjwi @hyunniesvlog @shuaadmirer

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lokisgoodgirl · 5 months

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Comfort & Joy: The Lakes [Loki x Reader]

The Lakes Masterlist / Regular Masterlist Summary: (9) Roll up, roll up for the Stark Christmas Jamboree. Where candied nuts and cunning plans both come with an extra sprinkling of festive sweetness. (w/c 7.8k) Warnings: Minors DNI. Usual Lakes fare. Humour, Asgardian lore, fluff, all the feels. Smut references. A/N: This is the final final edition of The Lakes.

“Remind me, what named day is this in your charming yuletide festivities?” Loki inquired as you stepped out the revolving door of the Tower.

Charming. You smiled.

Last year it would have been any number of synonyms for stupid. You could hear them, see his lips curling the words from memory. Gratuitous. Senseless. Superfluent. Foolish.

But that was your problem, you recognised, not his.

“I don’t think it has one officially,” you shivered, nestling your chin deeper into the scarf. Fuck, it was cold today. “But I call it Christmas Eve, Eve.”

You sighed, watching crowds of the general populous making their way in shuffling merriment towards the Christmas market. No, not market. Festive Jamboree.

Tony had taken it upon himself to create a mini-wonderland right outside the Tower for one day only, all proceeds to the local children’s hospital.

A ferris wheel rose at the end of the cordoned street, every carriage packed. The smell of hot-dogs and caramelised almonds filled the air, old-time speakers tied to high lamps blaring Andy Williams at a volume that couldn’t be code compliant. “Lighten up, darling” Loki chirped as a gloved hand laced with your own. You turned to him, forcing a smile through the nerves. He looked phenomenal. A high collared coat of darkest green framed his cheekbones, pink tipped in the sudden chill. The one you’d seen in the window. You couldn’t resist. But when it came to Loki, what else was new?

He’d popped the collar, loose strands of onyx hair tumbling over the thick of his scarf. The one you’d bought him, of course.

Against the pale of his skin, dark brows peaked above a lowered fan of lashes while his gaze lingered on your intertwined digits. He raised the back of your hand to his lips, kissing it firmly.

“This will be fun,” he murmured against your glove with a knowing glint. “Have you planned...something?” you laughed. “Other than the thing.”

The nerves were fading, finally. He pressed his free hand against his chest in mock-hurt. “You wound me with your suspicions, madam” he purred, playful insolence thick in his tone. He sniffed, raising his chin. “I am merely imbibed with the spirit of the season.” Mid-giggle, your whole body rocked forwards as two hands shook your shoulders from behind. “Merry Christmas Eve Eve, sister!” Thor boomed in your ear. There was ringing. Thor looked good. He smelled good. And blessedly for now at least, there were no crumbs in his beard. “And to you, brother” Loki said, smile widening.

Thor tilted his head, regarding Loki’s jovial demeanour with suspicion. “And to you, brother-” he rumbled. His interest was piqued. “What has my Sponge of a sibling in such a buoyant mood this fine December day?” “It’s Scrooge,” you corrected, grinning. Thor grinned back as all eyes fell on your lover.

Loki gaped, darting his gaze between you both.

“Scrooge?!” he scoffed incredulously. “In past years, perhaps. Yet despite your attempt to churl me, I shall take it as a compliment,” Loki said, squeezing your hand, “for I too was visited by three spirits and thus...changed forever.” Thor frowned, “spirits, says you?” “Yes, brother. Yourself, Rogers, and the spectre of that ghastly reclining chair.”

Thor chuckled, before being distracted by something deeper within the crowd. Or someone. He cleared his throat. “I must to the candied nuts, brother” he muttered formally.

Out the corner of your eye, you saw Rogers tip the nuts-vendor a quick salute as he nestled a fresh bag in his hand like a hamster. Heat steamed from the opening, wafting through frosty air. “Oh yes brother,” Loki drawled with equal gravitas. “The nuts will not eat themselves.” Thor squinted as a restrained smirk danced at Loki’s dimples. “Indeed,” the blonde replied, clearing his throat. “I shall see you at the bandstand anon.” And with a curt nod to you, he waddled hands in his pockets through the throng. You watched him go as Loki’s warm breath seeped down your neck, his mouth fastening to your pulse-point with a happy hum of pleasure. “You’re naughty,” you chided playfully. Loki nodded against your neck, the vibration of his agreement making you fizz. “And I have the knitwear to prove it,” he whispered. As you made your way through the crowd, Loki’s hand never left yours.

The two of you together were a familiar sight in Manhattan, and Avenger-fans on the whole had been beside themselves at news of your reunion. Confirmations had been slow. At you and Loki’s insistence, there had been no official statement. But the public had cottoned on eventually, with the help of the press.

Fans waited politely for pictures, nervously pulling at gloves and activating their cameras while you and Loki smiled and chatted. It was night and day from the way things used to be, while you stood on the sidelines amid a sea of bodies whipped into a frenzy by the god of mischief’s theatrical adulation.

Every so often, Loki would nuzzle your cheek; checking in. You’d squeeze his hand. One for all good, two for let’s go. You didn’t need that second squeeze today.

“With regret, we must depart for the afternoon’s questionable entertainment,” Loki announced. There was a chorus of disappointment, but he patted down the air.

“Please, join us-” he smiled to the crowd gathered around you, extending an arm towards the bandstand not thirty meters away. “Your participation will be most appreciated to drown out the subpar efforts of all of us. Truly, you will never look at us the same way, I guarantee it.” Despite having been erected overnight, the bandstand in the centre of the wonderland wouldn’t look out of place in Victorian England. Thin wrought iron pillars stretched upwards, twisting to an ornate canopy adorned with Christmas lights. Garlands wound up the pillars, twinkling sporadically. It was only 3pm, but the gathering darkness made them shine. A modest band of brass and strings had gathered beneath the canopy, instrument tune-ups peppering the chilly air.

And in front of it, in a semi-circle, microphones.

Steve stood to the side, handing booklets to a line of anxious looking avengers. Bucky, Wanda, Sam, Natas-

“I cannot believe we have to do this,” Bucky muttered ruefully as he threw his coat in the assigned box. “I can’t believe it. I actually can’t? Someone, fight me. Knock me out.” “We’re all in the same boat, Buck” Natasha lamented. She pulled at the baggy jumper hanging around her hips. Bucky looked down at his chest, pleading eyes meeting her stoic stare. “Fight me, Romanoff. Please.” “Don’t tempt me,” Natasha replied. Their jumpers were matching. Red, thick wool hiding any hint of the lithe muscle beneath. And stitched on them in winding, white-knitted lettering? Nice.

Your chest shook with the effort of holding in giggles. Even knowing what was coming, it hadn’t prepared you for the reality.

Looking around, you clocked each of your teammates in turn. Stark’s logic was thus – Avengers with a ‘harder’ reputation? Nice jumpers. And for those reputed to be on the softer side?-

“You’re wearing the wrong gosh-darn sweater, Laufeyson!” Steve hissed over your shoulder.

Both of you spun to face him. Steve’s arms were folded over the green version of the standard knit, the word Naughty emblazoned on his chest in white bobbling letters. Your shoulders were shaking now, too. “Don’t act like you're surprised, Rogers” Loki drawled. His coat hung off one long finger, before disappearing in a flash of seidr. “The public will not be fooled by Stark’s futile attempt at psychological subterfuge. I am simply getting ahead of the inevitable Tumblr edits.”

Steve’s chin snapped towards you. “Did you know about this?” he piped, flustered. You raised your eyebrows guiltily, making Steve’s hands fly in the air. “Perfect. Just heckin’ perfect. Why I outta-” “What seems to be the problem?” Thor’s voice boomed from behind. The words were accompanied by crunching, flecks of almond littering his green jumper like snow. You and Loki parted, making a four-square shoulder to shoulder and shuffling further towards safety from prying ears. “Laufeyson’s taken it upon himself to go against the agreed sweater-allocation and wear a Naughty, that’s what-” Steve bubbled bitterly.

Crimson had begun to creep up his cheekbones. A vein in his neck throbbed. Thor threw his head back with an almighty roar of laughter. Several almonds bounced from the bag in his hand from the force.

“Come now, Rogers ” he managed through gasps of mirth. “What did you expect? Tis just a silly rule, who cares?” He tossed an almond in the air, attempting to catch it in his mouth. It ricocheted off his eye. As Thor began blinking, Steve raised the clipboard in his hand. He tapped it violently. “I’m in charge of project managing this,” he hissed. “Laufeyson – change back to Nice.”

“Shan’t.” Loki quipped. Steve flushed deeper. “Laufeyson,” he warned. “Actually,” Loki started, enjoying the hushed tension. “I think you’ll find I am rather nice. You saw to that. So in truth, my sweater is fitting for this farce.” Steve’s eye began to twitch.

There was silence.

“Look at us, we’re like a little team," you offered, pointing to each of your green jumpers in turn. “Like the old days.”

Thor chuckled agreement as Loki and Steve stared each other down, a smile playing on Loki’s mouth that was irrevocably absent from the Captain’s. All four of you, it seemed, wore the Naughty uniform today. “In your case, as in mine, our knitwear reflects our essence perfectly my darling” Loki purred to you while his eyes narrowed towards a now vibrating super-soldier. “My naughty...naughty girl.” Steve sighed, hanging his head in resignation. “I told Tony this was a pooper of an idea,” he lamented. “It’s a disaster and it’s not even started.”

Thor’s hand clapped the captain’s shoulder in sympathy, lingering in a squeeze. Steve looked up at him, their eyes meeting.

The blonde god’s gaze widened slightly. You saw his fingers clench as his hand froze. In moments, he raised it; fluffing back his hair before sliding the hand into the pocket of his jeans.

“It’s only one sweater, Rogers” he muttered nervously. “Who cares?” Steve’s face fell, eyes darting to Thor’s crotch with a frown before rising back to his face. “I expected better of you, Odinson” was all he said before turning away.

Loki let out an exasperated sigh, elbowing his brother in the ribs. But Thor didn’t even flinch. His features had crumpled, spinning slowly as he watched the captain leave. His nuts? Forgotten.

But Steve didn’t see it. He was already making his way to the cluster of anxious looking Avengers huddled by the bandstand, examining carol music like they were Hydra files. “That could have gone better,” you whispered to Loki. The god frowned. His attempt to provoke his brother into siding with Rogers had not borne fruit. “Fear not,” Loki replied mysteriously as Thor produced a chicken drumstick from his jeans pocket. He tore off a chunk with a thousand-yard stare. Loki watched him in disbelief, continuing slowly. “There is still time to salvage this operation from the wreckage of my brother’s obstinance.” You gaze flitted between your team-mates. Bucky – Nice. Natasha- Nice. Clint – Naughty. Bruce – Naughty. Wanda – Nice. Sam – Naughty. Scott – Nice. Out the corner of your eye, you saw Loki swipe the half-ravaged chicken drumstick from Thor’s hold with hushed reprimand.

“What’s the big man wearing, I wonder?” you asked no one in particular. Loki snorted, “what else?” he said, nudging his head towards the Santa podium. There he was, Father Christmas aka. Tony Stark. Dressed in ray-bans and custom tailored suit, he looked suspiciously trim for a man in his position.

“Ah,” you smiled.

Loki’s smokey cologne filled your nostrils as he looped his arms around your body, pulling you tight to his chest. “It seems he will not be joining us in this public embarrassment,” he smirked before placing a warming kiss on your lips. Then to the corner of your mouth, then to the angle of your jaw. “Places!” a peaky-sounding Steve shouted, tapping a baton against the music stand at the head of the choir section. There was a deep line between his eyebrows that was decidedly un-Christmassy. “Norns,” Loki muttered. His hands slid down your body, fingers weaving through yours. “Ready?” he breathed nervously, your foreheads touching.

“Are you?” you replied.

Loki squeezed once.

The front row of the audience was made up of children, patients of the hospital. Cushioned folding chairs were laid in a half-crescent, two dozen of their smiling faces staring expectantly. Several of them sat in wheelchairs in the middle. Prime spot. One of them was wearing a pin-badge with Loki’s face on it. A young connoisseur, you thought with a smile.

Behind them, the growing crowd heaved. Sparkling Stark-Industries antlers filled your field of vision, handed out at the gates. There was a static hum, hundred of conversations and jokes and countless eyes inspecting each of you with anticipation. You could feel their excitement fizzing in the air while Bucky fidgeted beside you. Thinking about his solo you had no doubt. You rubbed his back sympathetically. He offered a weak smile of thanks. Steve tapped the pedestal again. “Avengers,” he announced with authority. The hushed whispers and small waves of the team to the crowd came to a halt. “One..two..” he mouthed the three.

All of a sudden, the air came alive with the sound of ten voices, stronger and louder and more melodic than you had expected. Unbelievably, it sounded...good. Hark! The Heralds, angels sing; Glory to the newborn king,

The brass quintet upon the bandstand soared. Even in practice, it hadn’t been this good. A Christmas miracle, you thought as you belted out the words in some semblance of tune.

Peace on earth and mercy mild, God and sinners reconcile, Your gaze flickered to the other side of the semi-circle, catching Loki’s.

He held his carol-sheet diligently at arms-length, not looking at it. But rather, at you.

He winked.

Steve had rightly separated you. The chances of him squeezing your ass in front of the sick children was just too high. What if one of them goes into shock, Steve had said. But in truth, it was the deep, soulful magnetism of Loki’s singing voice that posed the real risk. If you were standing beside him, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to contain yourself. You winked back. Beside Loki, Thor craned towards the paper his brother held.

Thor had memorised every carol. Every modern classic. Everything in the repertoire. You knew that for a fact.

For the last two weeks, ever since your conversation in the common room – you’d been able to hear him before you could see him. And not in the usual way. You’d become accustomed to hearing his theatrical rendition of Silent Night bouncing its ironic way around the tile of the gym, the hallways, seeping through floors. And what he lacked in vocal melody, he certainly made up for in enthusiasm.

No - in truth, as the God of Thunder stared at the music sheet, he was avoiding Steve’s appraising stare which darted to each of them in turn. Joyful, all ye nations rise, Join the triumph of the skies,

Reluctantly tearing your gaze away from your boyfriend, you focused back on the conductor. The crimson flush of his ears had ebbed. He was beginning to smile. Well, a little.

Hark! The Heralds, angels sing; Glory to the newborn king,

The carol continued. And then the next, and the next. Collection buckets that were being passed amongst the crowd began to overflow, the spectators indulging in a mix of swaying, singing, dancing.

With every song that passed, Bucky became more nervous, his voice a little higher.

You only faltered once during Winter Wonderland when you made the mistake of looking at Loki again. At some point, he had raked his hair back. Pink peaked at his cheekbones, his hip slouched casually, tapping his foot in time. One side of his sweater was concealed in the waistband of his dark chinos. A french-tuck, if you weren’t mistaken. It highlighted the sluttish creases that strained at his crotch.

Dark curls fell around the green knit, half-lidded eyes following each word as he sang it. You would fuck that sweater right off him later. Or maybe, he could keep it on...you mused. His smooth baritone slid over the words like a sled in morning’s first snow, to face unafraid, the plans that we made, walking in a- He looked up with a knowing side-smile in your direction. A sharp elbow in the ribs from Wanda made you realised you had lost your train of thought. Your mouth was open, but no words were coming out. “-winter wonderlaaaand,” you squawked out of time.

Steve’s eyes snapped to you, brow arched. He couldn’t complain, not really. Considering how well it was going. A brief erotically-charged moment of disassociation was the least he could expect, surely. As the song drew to a close with a flourish of conductor Rogers’ arms, the crowd burst into applause. With every passing number, it had become louder. You weren’t sure if there were more people, or if the mulled wine had been refilled. Steve spun to face the audience, growing darkness making the warm glow from fairylights create a halo around his blonde hair.

“And now...a very special treat,” he announced mysteriously to the expectant crowd. “Something very, very special indeed. I’ve heard it in rehearsal and golly, he’s just spiff.” Bucky’s feet began scuffing on the ground. He’s going to do a runner, you thought. But thankfully for Bucky, he had nothing to worry about.

The plan was for Barnes to perform a rousing rendition of Christmas (Baby Please Come Home) by Olivia Holt. Or Michael Buble, depending on the demographic. Backed up by the jingling ooo’s and aaa’s of the team of course. But despite Barnes initial enthusiasm, the thought of it had filled him with more horror each passing day.

Steve had been very excited about the whole affair. A grand finale for his orchestral debut, such as it was. And Bucky hadn’t the heart to tell him. “Buck?” you muttered out the corner of your mouth. You glanced at him, trying to be covert. He was sweating, staring blankly ahead. “Buck?” “Yuh.” Barnes mustered quietly as Steve began to move a microphone between the sick kids. Their little voices made your heart flutter. But you had a job to do. The weight of Loki’s concentration radiated from across the space between you. He was watching you and Bucky, completely still aside from one twitching finger and the small smile flickering at his dimples. You cleared your throat, leaning to the side towards the soldier. “In a few seconds you might feel a bit funny-” “I already feel a bit funny doll,” he murmured bitterly. “Yeah but...well, you’ll see. Just don’t freak out.” “Freak-what-now?” “Out-” “-Yah I got that-” he snapped, trying to turn towards you and failing. He tried to twist, but his shoulders wouldn’t budge. “What the-?” “Buck?” you repeated slowly. He met your eyes, the first shadows of fear creeping in. “When Steve calls you up, just shake your head. You have a little bit of movement in your neck. And you can talk a little. Just a little so I can check you’re okay. Okay?” Bucky raised his eyebrows in a grimacing caricature. You decided to assume that meant it was totally cool. “Who are hoo hurkin’ hor!?” he hissed in a wreckage of lisping syllables. His shoulders shook ever so slightly back and forth like a wound-up nutcracker as he tried and failed to move his feet. “Oh, no-” you said, realising he thought you’d been turned. “No, it’s just Loki’s magic. Don’t worry.” Bucky’s eyes widened.

‘Please welcome-’

“You’re off the hook with the song?” you chirped quietly, hoping it had the intended effect. Barnes stopped struggling. ‘-my friend, James Buchanan Barnes!’ A round of deafening applause snapped you from your bubble. Steve stood back at his podium, baton poised and ready for the band to begin.

Alongside the other Avengers, except Bucky, you bent down and picked up a sleigh bell carefully placed at your feet. You could beat someone to death with this thing, you thought as the chrome bells jingled beneath your hand. Wanda shot you a knowing glance, holding in a laugh.

The applause ebbed as James Buchanan Barnes remained rooted to the spot. His eyes darted side to side across the waiting crowd. He shook his head very, very slowly. Showtime, you thought. “I’m afraid he has a bit of stage-fright,” you explained loudly. Collective disappointment hummed in the air. Steve’s face flushed an immediate shade of fuchsia, features hardening. You could see the cogs in his brain turn, a victorious glittering finale slipping from his grasp. His lips puckered, sucking in his cheeks. “I’m sure with a little...encouragement,” Steve said with a grimacing smile, raising his arms. The crowd roared back to life.

Bucky shook his head, a bit faster this time. Rogers head lowered, the breath from his sigh of exasperation clouding around his face. “If I may...” came Loki’s calm drawl from across the line-up. It dripped with sensual showmanship, treacleish tones sending an immediate flood of desire leaking into your panties.

Men and women in the front rows grasped at each other, gawking as if suddenly seeing him for the first time. It doesn’t get any easier folks, you thought with a smile. “My brother here knows the arrangement by heart,” Loki continued. “The lyrics and suchlike- I’m sure he would be happy to relieve Barnes of his duties-”

Mutters of excitement spread through the crowd like a mexican wave. Thor immediately turned his back to the audience, muttering something at surprisingly hushed volume in his brother’s ear. Loki listened diligently, holding up a penitent finger to the crowd. Steve’s arms were folded, storm-clouds knitting his brow. The foot had begun to tap. “My brother makes the valid point that of the two of us, I am the more musically inclined-” Loki began, gracefully gripping Thor’s shoulders and spinning him back to face the audience.

He brushed his brother’s collar, removing the last of the almond crumbs which resided there. A smile you knew all too well stretched across Loki’s lips as he looked deep into Thor’s eyes, willing him to understand. “But alas,” Loki purred, “I know not the words.” And perhaps these words will heal, Loki thought.

Loki held his breath as Thor began to gingerly shuffle forwards, tugging at the hem of his Naughty- emblazoned jumper. If father could see us now, Loki mused with a shiver as his brother gripped the microphone.

The crowd was beginning to stomp in appreciation, driven into a frenzy by the turn of events. Thor gave a small wave, bashful smile growing wider as people began to whistle. Loki turned his attention to Rogers, standing stiff and poised with baton in the air. He gave it a singular flourish, counting down from three. The crowd fell silent.

Loki saw the moment that Steve and Thor’s eyes met. It seemed to make every fairy bulb glow a little brighter in the darkness, sparks of hope spreading like embers from a fire, fluttering upwards in a night sky. Please brother, Loki pleaded silently as he raised his sleigh bell. Don’t arse this up. He suddenly wondered if Thor had felt this way during their time at the cottage. Loki supposed that he had. The brass band sprang to life, drums making an entrance. (Christmaaaas) Loki sang suddenly with the others. Nine voices harmonised as one.

Thor panicked, pulling the microphone to his mouth. “Snow is...coming down...uh-oof-” he spluttered, the cable tangling around his shoe. (Christmaaaaas) they sang, cringing slightly.

One line in, and Loki had almost lost all hope. “I'm watching it faaaaall” Thor crooned in bass – a little more tunefully. (Christmaaaas) “Lots of...very lovely and festive, yes – you...people aro-hounnnd,” (Christmaaaas) Loki sang, a smile beginning to spread as his brother came alive. He was pointing at the children, giggles and squeals peppering the air. The sleigh bell beat against his palm in time with his brother’s voice. “Baby, please come ho-hommmme,” Thor sang. Loki looked up, catching a look on your face that he hadn’t seen before. There was something different in that look. Some deeper variable of your smile that ignited his heart. But there would be time for overthinking it later, he surmised as his brother launched into the chorus with a glottal barrage of enthusiasm. For now, he had a love to nurture.

As Loki released his practised backing harmonies with the rest of the team, his brother got into his stride. ‘Owned the stage,’ Loki believed was the term. Steve didn’t take his eyes off Thor for the whole number. And if Loki didn’t know better, which of course – he did, he would swear that the captain was blushing.

(Please) they sang, sleigh bells jangling in time. “Pleaseee” echoed his brother. (Please) “Please” (Please) “Please” (Please) “Please Baby, please come hommmme-” You were surprised the operatic efforts of Loki’s brother didn’t make the ground shake.

The crowd were beside themselves, singing and jiving and waving their hands in the air. Thor worked the big crescendo, falling to his knees on the ground. His thighs spread, and whether it was his intention or not, you saw Steve grip the podium as his sensibilities buckled. Just a bit. The captain’s lips rolled together, stifling what you were sure was a bite. Thank god Thor wore the tight jeans today, you mused as you held the final note. With a swiping flourish of the conductor’s baton, the song was over. The cheers were deafening.

Thor stood and gave a small bow, sudden bashfulness descending. He waved, backing off to the side. His eyes met Steve’s, giving him an understated nod. The captain returned it slowly, a look in his eyes you hadn’t seen before. You watched him mouth two words, thank you, before Thor collided into Loki.

There was only one more song to go. You watched as Loki patted his brother’s shoulder across the semi-circle, pulling him into a hug. His face was alight with pride. It melted your heart. Despite the passing of the months, you couldn’t get over how different his smiles were now. Open. Genuine. Real. He’s finally opened his heart.

Have you? The thought came intrusively. Fairy lights shone all around as Loki tussled his brother’s hair. Thor couldn’t stop smiling. And neither could Steve, you noticed. One more song. Rogers tapped the podium for the final time, raising the baton. The mellow sound of the saxophone twisted in the air, followed by strings.

“I'm dreaming of a white Christmas Just like the ones I used to know” you sang. Loki’s eyes met yours, sparkling with the glitter of mischief well done. “Where the treetops glisten, And children listen, To hear sleigh bells in the snow,”

Bucky’s voice began to grow louder beside you. Released from his bodily prison at last. On cue, the Avengers began to peel away from the semi-circle, mingling with the crowd. Of course, any production orchestrated by Steve Rogers would end in a collective heart-melting communal singalong. Nothing else would do.

You watched as Wanda cosied up to a older man holding a mulled wine. He offered it to her immediately, stunned as he mouthed the words to White Christmas. She took it.

For your part, you made a beeline for the children sitting at the front of the audience, joining them in their sway. This whole thing was for them, after all. Loki’s shadow crept behind you, falling over the little girl with his face emblazoned on the pin badge.

“I'm dreaming of a white Christmas, with every Christmas card I write” Loki purred melodically as he lowered to his haunches. He paused, leaning in to give her a kiss on the cheek. You watched her face, transfixed in joy as all her daydreams came true. The God of Mischief in person, his shadowed blue eyes looking into hers as though she was the only person in the world. That never gets old, either, you thought. He took her hand, pressing her tiny palm against his own. “May your days,” he sang with the crowd as his fingertips glowed green, “be merry and bright-” You couldn’t tear yourself from the look of absolute sincerity on his face. The utter determination painted on softened features to give this sweet girl a memory that would last for the rest of her life – however long that was.

Tears began to prick your eyes, seeing the crane of her neck upwards as her mouth fell open in wonder to the sky. Loki smiled. The green shimmer of his palm pressed to hers grew stronger. A glow flashed across the inky night, a billowing flourish of northern lights erupting over central Manhattan seeped in emerald and pinkish hues. They twisted in waves, swirling like a cloak which moved and rolled. It was alive. Loki's voice was quieter now, but no less beautiful as he sang. “And may all your Christmases, be-” “white,” the little girl gasped as snow began to fall. He did that, you thought in wonder as the crowd began to cheer, hugging each other. All sets of eyes were turned upwards to the sky. All but yours. They stayed fixed on Loki as the band played on amidst a flutter of newly swirling snowflakes. The man I love.

“The tie, brother-” Thor muttered nervously, “is it..?” “It is well done, brother” Loki replied.

He dusted the lapel of Thor’s crushed velvet suit jacket a final time, a deep red the shade of fine merlot. The blonde released a trembling sigh, pulling at his fingers.

It was Christmas Eve. “Did you take the pharmaceuticals as instructed?” Loki enquired quietly as the elevator bounced to a halt. Thor nodded, patting his breast pocket. “The Tums? Yes. I have some on my person should the gaseous beast rear in my belly.” Loki nodded, satisfied. All the bases were covered. He had done all he could do. Now, it was up to Thor. Well, almost. It had been Loki’s idea for the brothers to dress together for the party tonight. And although his initial plan was to ensure that Thor was in peak condition for this eve of great import, Loki would admit that he had enjoyed it. Very much.

He wore a suit matching his brother’s in all but one detail. Loki’s was a crushed velvet of richest emerald green. Thin silk ties of gold adorned them both, fastened tight to the white shirts beneath with a pin bearing their respective emblems. Loki’s gift to his brother. The Asgardian Princes were showing up, tonight. Loki had made sure of it. Mother would be proud, he smiled as the elevator doors opened. Thor’s Yuletide offering to him had been a gift certificate to the Cheesecake Factory, but Loki paid it no mind. Gifts had never been his brother's strong-suit.

The rest of the team was already gathered by the Christmas tree, festive beverages in hand. A rolling cheer of greeting sounded as the duo strode towards the scene. Loki grabbed two glasses from the bar, passing one to his brother who necked it immediately. The dark god swirled his finger, refilling it. Loki felt his brows rise as he saw you, standing with one finger curled over your lip and an entirely too sensual smirk on your beautiful face. Beneath the perfectly cut trousers of his suit, Loki’s cock twitched. “You look handsome,” you coaxed quietly as he slid an arm around your waist, releasing a breath he’d been holding as a charged grunt of need.

“If we had gotten ready for tonight together,” Loki growled hot in your ear, “I fear that dress would never have been seen by another intact.” He pressed himself to you with a lingering kiss, an appreciative thrust of his hips rubbing against your own. He sighed into your open mouth, feeling your fingers dig into his shoulders. “God,” Natasha muttered with playful scorn under her breath, shuffling over to give you both space. “Can’t take them anywhere,” she murmured to Sam. Sam grunted in agreement.

“Presents!” Tony cried, clapping his hands together. “Party starts at eight, tick tock. Cutting it fine thanks to Paris and Nicole here.” He nodded in Loki and Thor’s direction. Steve checked his watch. “One cannot rush perfection, Stark” Loki smirked, releasing you. He watched as Rogers turned and adjusted a decoration on the tree. A plush rabbit wearing a santa hat. He was nervous. Tony knelt down, reading each gift tag and throwing it to the corresponding team-member. An oblong package whizzed past Loki's face, hitting his brother square in the mouth. 'Ooft,' Thor grunted as mulled wine slopped over the side of the glass. He stumbled, catching the present. Loki sighed, flexing his fingers and removing the stain from the front of his sibling’s suit. His brother nestled the empty glass dangerously within the tree branches to his side, inspecting the package. “Tis soft,” he muttered seriously. Across the circle, Loki saw Steve’s anxious gaze darting upwards at his brother in intervals. He noted you offer the captain a comforting nod while Thor tore at immaculate wrapping, ripping off the red ribbon and casting it aside. “Odin’s beard…” Thor gasped as the final sliver of paper fell away.

The team fell silent, looking up from their various body massagers and associated tat. He raised the item in his hands like Simba, slack-jawed in awe. The amazed god stared at it, eyes glossy.

Bruce frowned towards the blonde, peering over his glasses with an oversized posing pouch dangling from one finger. “Is that-?” “-A chicken drumstick?” Nat gawked. “Tis’ soft…!” Thor breathed in wonder, twirling it in his hands. He clutched it to his chest, eyes darting around the group. “A thousand thanks upon whomever bestowed this plush poultry treasure upon me,” he murmured, unable to resist holding the cushion proudly at arms length.

“Truly whomever be my secretive santa knows me to my core-” he continued dreamily, looking to each avenger in turn. They all looked befuddled. All except one. Thor’s brow creased, doing a double take as Steve’s cheeks plunged to new depths of crimson. “Rogers?” the blonde god whispered, so low only Loki could hear it. “Open yours Steve!” someone probed. Captain America still held his own package in his hands, toying with it gently.

Loki maintained his stoic expression, tossing his newly acquired bottle of luxury dry shampoo between his hands as he noted horror descend on his brother’s face. Never fear, brother; he thought smugly. Thor thought that Steve was about to open a small box containing yet another gift certificate to the Cheesecake Factory. But Thor was mistaken. Firstly, America’s saviour was lactose intolerant. Any internet search would have told him that. But despite his brother’s poverty of imagination where presents were concerned, his heart was in the right place. And for the cunning plan his love and he had concocted, there was only one gift which could bring the two men comfort and joy this Christmas. The truth. “Wait, wait-” Thor yelped as he took several panicked strides across the room. He knelt down to Steve’s level, placing his hands over the box that Steve had only just revealed through the wrapping. “It’s not-” Steve looked up, meeting the god’s panicked stare with practised indifference.

“Let me open it, will ya?” he said calmly. Thor sank back, head bowed as he waited for the axe to fall. With every careful unlatching of sellotape, Loki saw his brother’s heart sink a little more into his stomach. “Good gravy, what’s this? A pocket-square?” Thor looked up, regret turning to confusion as he clocked the handkerchief dangling between Rogers slender fingers. It was familiar, heavy with otherworldly silk and trimmed in thread ground from the most precious jewels of nine realms. On one side, deepest burgundy melting to crimson. But on the other, a rich navy which faded to shimmering azure.

Red and blue, not red and green.

The two colours met in the middle, threads glittering and overlapping like foam on the shore. They seemed to move. To change and ebb in the light like a living thing. And stitched across the handkerchief in the finest gold,

En sannhet byttet mot en sannhet. “Jeepers,” Steve muttered as he pulled the silk appraisingly through his fingers. “Someone definitely went over the twenty dollar limit.” Thor twisted his head incredulously towards his brother. Loki narrowed his eyes briefly in response, coupled with a small nod. The blonde god cleared his throat, finally catching up to the scenario unfolding before him. “A truth for a truth,” Thor breathed quietly, looking to the floor.

Steve’s concentration broke, as if suddenly seeing the person kneeling beside him on the floor for the first time. “P-pardon?” he stuttered. There was a sudden wave of green hued light through the room, reminiscent of the northern lights which lit up last night’s sky at the jamboree. “My apologies, Rogers…” Loki purred, stepping forwards. “I feel it best to inform you that the others cannot see nor hear us at this moment. As far as they are aware, you are both by the bar.” Loki nodded to where a slightly glitchy duo of duplicates stood behind Tony’s counter, clinking glasses of tequila. “Just myself, and she-” he nodded to you, “are witness.” “W-witness?” Steve spluttered, trying to stand and finding his knees starting to buckle. He looked at Thor, eyes wide. But all he found was softness. “Say the words, Rogers” Thor urged gently, gesturing to the handkerchief. Steve frowned, as the blonde god pulled the silk from his grip.

“A truth for...what was it? Truth for a truth?” Rogers asked, confused gaze darting between the men and you.

Loki clapped his hands together quietly. “Wonderful. You are now bound to the Accords of the Kerchief.” Steve frowned deeper. “Accords of the what-now?” “Kerchief,” Loki repeated formally, nodding towards the silk in Thor’s hand.

“You have both held it while the other spoke the words. And now, you must exchange the truth which causes the conflict between you – so that it may be resolved.” “And what if I don’t wanna?” Rogers sniffed, ears burning. He avoided Thor’s eyes. Loki released a whittling hum of discontent. “Unfortunately, failure to comply with the Accord of the Kerchief once initiated means instant smiting at the hands of Heimdall.” “Smiting?! You can’t be serious,” Steve scoffed with gusto. “Oh yes,” Loki nodded very seriously. Thor was nodding too. Also very seriously. “The penalties are most grave, Rogers.” “You tricked me,” Steve hissed to the blonde opposite him.

“Technically I tricked you,” Loki smirked apologetically. Rogers eyes narrowed in his direction, his lip trembling with what looked suspiciously like a swear. “Laufeyson,” he warned. Loki extended his forefinger, waggling it slowly side-to-side. “It will do not a jot of good, Rogers. You can thank my mother for this one. Now -” he gestured expectantly between the men. Thor took a deep breath. “Rogers-Ihavefeelingsforyouwhichcannotbeexplainedin,mere...Norns-” “Slow down, Thor-” you cooed gently.

Loki felt your hand slide into his. The nerves roaring in his belly soothed as your fingers interlinked. Despite maintaining an exterior of calm, he was terrified.

“Rogers,” Thor began again. Steve stared at him, transfixed. The aura of suspicion which surrounded him was fading, his stiff spine slackening as he looked at the god. Really looked at him. Saw him.

“I have feelings for you, which run deep to the heart of me. Which I cannot deny any longer. And if you feel that you cannot return my interest, then I shall understand. But I cannot spend another night unable to sleep, thinking that you believe me to hate you. And I apologise for my boorish behaviour these past months.” There was a pause as the god took a breath before continuing. “It was self preservation, you see-” Thor rumbled quietly, before sighing.

Steve looked down, still except for his fingers fidgeting with the wrapping paper in his lap. “That was well done, brother” Loki soothed. Thor shot him a sad smile. “I-” Rogers started.

The three of you held your breath. He looked up, just at the moment Thor curled a blonde tendril behind his ear. “I-” Steve choked, shifting on his knees. “It’s okay Steve,” you coaxed from the side-lines. It was the final nudge he needed. “I feel the same,” was all Steve said. He looked up, meeting Thor’s widening eyes. “Truly?” Steve nodded shyly. “I got myself in a tizz, about a whole bunch of things which weren’t really to do with you. Or….us. Not really,” he stammered. "It wasn't a mistake. And I was a dummy to say so." Loki felt your fingernails dig into his palm, both of you craning forwards as the captain continued. His voice was serious, a slight waver just audible between the words. “For a while, I thought you thought I was just some kinda tart. Some kind of loose Jack. Well lemme tell you Odinson, Steve Rogers is no one’s tart.” “You were never my tart, Rogers,” Thor uttered with gravitas, gently cupping Steve’s jaw. The captain’s eyelids fluttered closed, leaning into his hold. In seconds, the space between them closed. Rogers arms wrapped around Thor’s shoulders, Thor’s hands sliding around the captain’s waist. They fit together like a glove, Steve’s fingers winding in the god’s hair like a spindle through spun gold. Low mutterings of apologies cascaded from their lips between kisses, small gasps and sighs as unpleasantness of past months were forgotten. “What the fuck?” Tony spluttered. Every set of eyes in the room was fixed on the God of Thunder and Captain America’s passionate embrace. Hel, Loki thought with a shock. In all the excitement, he had neglected to hold the spell which shielded them. The kiss ceased, but still their arms were wound around each other. “Sheesh,” Wanda laughed, grabbing a bottle of the good stuff on her way past the bar. “It’s about time.” A murmur of agreement rolled around the room, a chorus of whoops sounding as each teammate stooped to offer a clap on the back to the newly outed couple. And for the first time in living memory, the colour of Thor’s cheeks rivalled his lover’s. “Maybe you guys won’t be the public embarrassment at parties anymore,” Nat quipped as she passed, tapping Loki and you lightly on the ass. Your laughter lit up Loki’s heart. And there was that look in your eye again, the one he couldn’t place yesterday.

‘We did it,’ you mouthed silently to him. Loki winked in response, just as the clock chimed eight. With a spring in his step, Loki made his way to the men kneeling awkwardly on the floor, noting their interlinked fingers with a wave of pride. He offered both hands, and each was taken. He heaved, pulling the men to stand and immediately into a hug.

“Merry Christmas, brother” he whispered in Thor’s ear. “Do you need the handkerchief back?” Thor muttered through a smile. “I am assuming the revised colours were only temporary.” Loki chuckled, pulling him and Rogers tighter. The captain released a strangled ooft as the air was pressed from his lungs.

“I think not that we need such a trinket to ensure our bond. Not anymore. Do you, brother?” Loki murmured into his sibling’s hair.

From deep within the embrace, in a hold which seemed to melt the centuries, Loki felt his brother shake his head.

The party was a roaring success. And in the early hours of Christmas Day, you and Loki stumbled back to your apartment upstairs.

It was tiredness, mostly – and happiness. Strands of tinsel poked from Loki’s curls. You pulled one out with a giggle before unlocking the door and pulling him inside. “Finally,” he growled longingly as one slim finger toyed with the strap of your dress. Making quick work of pushing the velvet suit jacket from his shoulders, your fingers were halfway down his shirt buttons before you suddenly remembered- “-your present!” you cried, making Loki flinch back from where he had been buried in your neck.

“Can’t it wait?” he whined with feigned impatience. You waved an excited hand, scurrying to the cupboard. “No.” you shouted, head popping out behind the cupboard door. “I’ve been dying to give it to you.” Loki sighed, a reluctant smile spreading across his beautiful face. “I thought we agreed no gifts,” he huffed as you ran and sat cross-legged on the bed.

You bounced on your knees while he swaggered over, undoing the last of his buttons with a knowing grin as he enjoyed the roam of your hungry stare across his skin. His carved abdomen flirted into view, obliques visible with each stride as the thick cotton folded to his movements. Loki sat on the bed, legs spread at the edge. His thighs creased the material in a way that made your mouth water.

He picked up the box, inspecting it before throwing you a lingering smoulder. “Mischievous elf,” he purred. “It’s just a small thing” you bargained, biting your lip as the first side of paper was torn. “I stole it, actually.” Loki raised an eyebrow. “Open it!” you said, chewing on your thumbnail as you watched his eyes drop to the package. Suddenly the god’s face changed.

Playfulness melted to a frown, his smirk fading. He swallowed thickly, staring down at the mug in his hands before looking up at you. “-with the yellow bear,” he said quietly. “and the eyepatch!” you beamed. “I took it from the cottage. I noticed you always used it, I thought you might like the-”

Before you could finish, Loki’s hand had cupped the back of your head and pulled you into an all-consuming kiss. He bore down on you, the passion of his adoration sinking through the air and deep into your soul. Every circle of his tongue against yours, every caress of his breath as he repositioned his mouth over your own. He broke, panting. “Darling,” was all he could muster in thanks as he looked down at the ceramic with adoring eyes. You couldn’t stop smiling. His gaze snapped up, a click of his fingers making a perfectly wrapped present appear beside you on the bed. Golden paper shimmered before becoming whole. It was flat, and light. “No presents, huh?” you goaded sweetly. Loki smiled. “Open it,” he echoed. You complied. And inside the paper was a perfectly folded nightdress, adorned with autumnal leaves. The very same one. You hugged it to your chest, a dopey smile on your face. “I knew it was the one thing in that room you would miss,” he rumbled apologetically.

You reached for his hand, thumb running over the veins taut and thick on the back. “I hope this doesn’t mean I’ll be sleeping alone,” you whispered with a smile. Loki placed his mug on the side table, before reaching for the nightdress and placing it beside. “God forbid,” he growled. Loki pulled another errant strand of tinsel from his hair, making it vanish. Without breaking eye contact, he lowered you back on the mattress, the pad of one fingertip tracing down your cheekbone. Memorising it.

The way he was looking at you, the silence that hung where words should be. You knew which words they were. He was holding back, even now as he inhaled against your pulse-point. Holding back for you. As dark curls blanketed your vision, you thought of the excitement in his voice as the cunning plan was formed. Of the way his fists clenched as he silently cheered his brother on, how his face fell when he thought that it was all for naught. How his eyes had swum with joy as it all came together. Not for himself, but for them. And you thought of the smile on that little girl’s face, joyful in the midst of Christmas lights and magic that shouldn't be possible. But for her, and for you - with him...it was. Yes, you’d thought about that a lot. “I love you, Loki” you whispered slowly in his ear.

Loki’s kisses against your neck faltered. You heard a sigh rack his chest, breath hitching as his heart-beart quickened on top of your own. “Truly?” he murmured in response.

It was cautious, wary. His eyes came into view, concern clouding them. You slid a hand up his jaw, kissing him gently. “I love you,” you repeated solemnly. He pressed his forehead to yours, a choke of relieved laughter accompanying a long inhale of breath. “Gods,” he whispered on the exhale, “what have I done to deserve you?” “Everything,” you replied quietly. It was a truth.

He kissed you as though he was trying to absorb each atom of your breath, capture each flutter of the three words he’d longed to hear. As though they might vanish if he did not mark the moment with the seal of his touch. But they wouldn’t. You knew that now. How could they? “I love you,” he whispered back. And you believed him.

A/N: Thank you again so so so much for coming on this journey with me and the gang. I'm so happy with how this ended, even though the expansion was a bit unexpected(!) and I really hope you are too! Although the 'main' story is chapters 1-7, it felt like there was more to explore. Please let me know what you thought, any insights or additional HCs you have - they are always welcome ❤️ Tags

@lokischambermaid @meowmeow-motherfucker @gigglingtiggerv2 @imalovernotahater @avengersalways @littledark11 @lokikissesmyforehead @simplyholl @fictive-sl0th @thedistractedagglomeration @loopsisloops @glitchquake @holdmytesseract @jaidenhawke @silverfire475 @fandxmslxt69 @morriggannlostinfandoms @marygoddessofmischief @sebstanwhore @xorpsbane @peacefulpianist @yelkmelk @wheredafandomat @mistress-ofmagic @acidcasualties @ozymdias @your-taste-on-my-lips @lokidokieokie @kikster606 @peachyjinx @tbhiddlestan83 @trickster-maiden @skymoonandstardust @justjoanne242 @thenotoriouserg @ladyofthestayingpower @wolfmoonmusic @brittbax @smolvenger @joyful-enchantress @kaleenjackson @fictional-hooman @kellatron55 @mrs-illyrian-baby @icytrickster17 @muddyorbs @buttercupcookies-blog @goddessofwonderland

#the lakes #loki x reader #loki laufeyson #loki fanfiction #loki x female reader #loki fanfic #loki smut #loki fluff #loki odinson #loki laufeyson x reader #loki laufeyson fluff #loki marvel #loki imagine #loki x yn #loki x you #loki gif #loki series

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lilybug-02 · 3 months

Note

Wait so how do you know for sure the sprite is Ralsei? No hate, I do believe you haha, but I too am a lore scientist and I wanna know your evidence. Does it show up in-game? I could definitely believe that I saw it in-game and forgot about it :P

YES. Finding legitimate sprites directly from Toby Fox games can be surprisingly difficult. There are so many fan-made character sprites, that it can be hard to differentiate from the real ones!

Guess how many are NOT fan-made? .....only one 🗿

...(please don't question why google is in italian)

Official Websites like Spriters Resource (Ralsei's Offical Sprite Sheet) are very helpful in this regard :)

They may even include unused file graphics. Like this unused face of Ralsei.

Sprite legitimacy is a big rabbit hole that I personally don't have enough knowlege on :( ((BUT OH MY GOSH The internet is notorious for reposting fan-spriteworks without sourcing. It can be really hard to find the original artist.))

It's also HILARIOUS how many people have redone Ralsei's sprite. It is quite obvious from my Ralsei poll and through his mass of fan-redesigns, that many people in the Deltarune community REALLY LOVE his Chapter 1 sprite more.

Ralsei sprite fan-art is amazing and I personally want to mod it into my game bc it looks so good. Below I have some really cool fan-sprites I found and the artists who made them!

Left (Ralsei Ch 2 redesign- metr0nix727), Middle (Ralsei based off Ch 1- larituca), Left (Full Ralsei Chapter 2 Sprite sheet with Hat- artist unknown**)

**this sprite sheet was submitted through Sprites Resource but I traced it back to TaxeisNotOkay, who I presume to be the original artist. I could not find any other information regarding the full sprite sheet, so feel free to correct or inform me if you find anything!

Looking back at Ralsei's Chapter 2 head sprites..... they just don't look as good as they could in my opinion. I dont like them :(...uhhh NO HATE OF COURSE!!..ahklasdkflansdf I'll go jump in this hole now.

#I want to reiterate I do not hate people who like Ralsei's Chapter 2 design. But I myself have MANY criticisms for it-#I have a lot of other criticisms for Deltarune in general!! And thats okay!!! No game is perfect. <3 #But Being able to voice my criticism definitely makes me feel less alone.... I want to feel comfortable expressing my thoughts and feelings #.....Idk I think its important.... QwQ...ahh sorry...anyways....#You got me rambling again uwu #This was a super interesting deep dive into sprite work! SO thank you to whoever asked!! <3 #deltarune #deltarune fanart #sometimes its almost like the community itself makes better content and i get....conflicted... idk man..... :(#deltarune sprite #fanart #ralsei #ralsei deltarune #deltarune ralsei #ralsei sprite #bread #bread rambles

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weirdmarioenemies · 8 months

Text

Name: Bulbie

Debut: Pikmin

Pikmin 4 has a doggone good time being as doggy of a game as it can! I'm sure you are well aware by now of the new Funny Weird Dogs!

And I love these weird dogs! They are wonderful. I'm glad they are so important and beloved. But I would like to focus on a different dog, the very first Pikmin Dog, who we have known about since the very first game! Olimar's dog, Bulbie!

With this, I have shown you both official images of Bulbie that exist. I wish there were more! Bulbie is a dog even weirder than Oatchi and Moss, a whole different kind of critter that also happens to get called a dog. Isn't that great? These people have the concept of "dog", and so far we've only seen it used to refer to these funny bipeds! Olimar has no problem referring to both Bulbie and Moss as dogs, so I am led to believe that "dog" is more of a category of creature to these people, rather than a distinct species. Like how "mole" is a category of creature to us!

We know a precious little bit of Bulbie Lore. He is lazy, and able to sleep anywhere. He loves carrots. He farts a lot. That's about all we know. Awesome! Sure sounds like a Dog to me! And of course, Olimar loves Bulbie very much. Just like he loves his whole family! He is a Family Guy, complete with Funny Dog!

You may already know, or you may have noticed yourself, but Bulbie looks quite like a Bulborb. This is because Olimar named these creatures after Bulbie, due to their resemblance! It is also for this reason that they are members of the Grub-Dog Family. You see? Bulborb is just like a dog! While it is sweet of Olimar to name the species after Bulbie, it must also make his encounters with them even more disturbing. Not only is this a (comparatively) massive, hostile beast that could easily eat him whole, but it looks like his beloved little friend! That's like a nightmare! Especially with other, scarier Bulborb variants! I am happy to know that his Bulborb experiences do not affect his love for Bulbie one bit.

As much as I love and talk about invertebrates and funny fish, dogs have always been among my favorite animals, and always will be! They're an extremely conventional animal to love, and for very good reason. They're wonderful! And on this post about Weird Dogs, I would like to talk about how dogs are, in fact, weird in their own ways.

They're always sniffing with their wet noses, which they keep wet to smell even better. They love to lick, and lick to show love. And that love is such an important thing! Dogs are creatures of love! It is our love for dogs that shaped them into what they are today! It is what drove us to shape this single subspecies into countless distinct caricatures of its noble ancestors. All still members of the very same species! The amount of dog customization that has occurred is ridiculous. Need a better way to hunt badgers? Make a Long Dog. Yeah sure! Why not!

Obviously, most dachshund owners today aren't interested in hunting badgers. They are interested in having a Pet. And a Pet Dog is such a truly incredible thing! There are not many animals that should be kept in a house around humans, but then there is Dog, literally born to be among humans. Born to be loved, and born to love! If you don't think that's one of the most wonderful things ever then get outta here!

This is an animal that runs around and spins in circles because it sees an ape that it loves so much. An animal that ends up learning snippets of human language, because those are the snippets that make it happy. An animal that gleefully exposes its vulnerable underside, because it trusts a member of a different species to rub it in just the right way that feels so nice.

Even with the general consensus on dogs being pretty dang favorable, I feel that it's easy to take a lot of their behavior and history for granted, to see them as the "default animal", when they SO aren't. The default animal would be a parasitoid wasp, silly!

If I was not able to convince you that dogs are weird, then just look up canine transmissible venereal tumor, obviously using your own discretion, because there will be graphic photos. If you ask me, this one medical anomaly easily makes dogs a contender for one of the weirdest animals EVER! Bet you didn't know dogs could be contagious!

I like funny dog Bulbie

#bulbie #pikmin #bulborb #dogs #not mario #funky friday #mod chikako

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beskarandblasters · 8 months

Text

I Know Places

Enemies to Lovers!Din Djarin x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Din Djarin Masterlist

Author’s note: Special thank you’s to @nostalxgic for making this beautiful graphic and @wannab-urs, @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin, @mandoisapunk, and @theredviper for beta reading this for me! 🥹 Also I used this guide to help determine how long it takes to get from Tatooine to Coruscant… which isn’t that accurate at all lmao but roughly 22 standard days of travel is convenient for this story specifically so I'm going with that. All of my other Star Wars fics are much better with travel times/lore I promise but as the official writers of Star Wars say, “hyperspace travels as fast as the plot” 😉

Summary: You’re on Tatooine running from your life from some goons on Coruscant who you owe credits to; credits you definitely don’t have. Just when you think you’re alone, a Mandalorian captures you to bring you in. What started out as hatred for each other morphs into apathy into tolerance and finally, into feelings for each other.

Word count: 7k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent, takes place when Grogu is with Luke, long live the Razor Crest, helmet stays on, descriptions of reader being dehydrated/sick, taking medication, restraints, Din is an asshole at first, eventual feelings, nipple play, fingering, oral sex (M receiving), vaginal sex, unprotected sex, creampie, canon typical violence, use of Mando'a words (cyar'ika = sweetheart), no use of y/n

The hot suns of Tatooine burn the back of your neck as you trudge along the desert. Your feet feel like a million pounds, every step takes all of your energy that you can muster. Not only are you physically exhausted but you’re also beating yourself up mentally. It’s your own fault you’re here on this shithole of a planet running for your life. You got tied up with the wrong crowd, a crime lord named Garo and his goons on the lower levels of Coruscant. And now you owe them a hefty sum of credits; credits you definitely don’t have.

You get the sense you’re being watched; like someone is following you. You turn to look for another set of footprints in the sand but there’s only your own. You spun around too fast and now you’re feeling dizzy. When was the last time you had water? You can’t remember.

You spot a valley in the distance with some shaded patches from the rocks above; a break from the harsh suns. You make it there as fast as you can (which is still rather slow) and plop yourself down in the sand. You pat your sides to make sure you still have your dagger and blaster attached to your belt; the only methods of defense you have. You’re not even that good with a blaster and it’s not yours. You stole it before you left Coruscant, hitching a ride with a stranger who was also traveling to Tatooine, giving him pretty much all of the credits you had left. And as for the dagger… What good is that going to do? A dagger is only useful if the threat is close to you and by that point you’re probably dead anyway.

You close in on yourself, balling yourself up as tight as you can, as if you’ll fall apart at any given moment. It feels like the entire weight of the galaxy is on your shoulders and you’re going to let it swallow you whole.

You must’ve fallen asleep. You’re sprawled out on the sand, still under the small patch of shade, you think. You haven’t opened your eyes yet. Your mouth feels like sandpaper and you’re severely dehydrated. If this continues any longer it’ll prove to be fatal. You open your eyes slowly, expecting to see rocks or the unforgiving suns of Tatooine above you. But instead… you’re met with the sight of a silver helmet and the stone-cold stare of its visor glaring down at you.

You attempt to yell but it comes out as a weakened gasp. Scrambling backwards you try to inch away from the looming figure above you. You struggle to your feet and try to run away but due to your impaired state, it’s no use. A leather glove grabs your wrist and you feel what must be cuffs locking– you’ve been captured. Your worst fears are coming true; you’re gonna be sent back to Coruscant where you’ll most definitely be put to death.

“I have to say, that was easier than I thought,” the masked man says, keeping a hand wrapped around your arm as he leads you away from your resting spot.

“W-what?” you choke out, barely audible.

“I didn’t think you were going to be so frail.”

“I’ve been alone in the desert for many days… without any water.”

“Judging by your state I won’t be able to carbon freeze you.”

“Carbon freeze me?”

…Who did they send after you?

“Consider yourself lucky.”

You roll your eyes.

“Lucky? I don’t even know who you are. How threatening could you even possibly be?”

He stops walking and turns to face you, the helmet getting closer in your face. You can see your reflection in it, just how tired and sick you look.

“Do you want to test that?” he says sternly.

“N-no,” you stutter.

“Good. Now let’s go,” he says, dragging you along. If he wasn’t holding you upright you’d be face planted in the sand.

The mysterious man leads you to his ship, a Razor Crest, lowering the exit ramp and pulling you inside. And now you’re standing right by his carbonite freezer, feeling thankful for your desiccated state. He seals the ship and sits you down on a crate and pulls one across to sit in front of you. The T-shaped visor burning a hole into you as he sits, stoic and not saying a word. Now that you’re not blinded by the sun or being dragged you get a better look at him; full silver beskar, an imposing stance, and completely adorned in all sorts of weapons.

“So you’re taking me back to Coruscant?”

“Mhm.”

“You know he’s gonna kill me, right?”

“That’s not my problem. I get hired to do a job and I do it. I don’t ask questions. I don’t get involved.”

“Who are you?”

“A bounty hunter.”

“But who are you?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?”

“You’re a Mandalorian, aren’t you?”

You’ve heard rumors about them; legends even. You know they’re strong, skilled warriors; a relentless group of people. They sent one of the best bounty hunters in the galaxy after you… feels like overkill.

“And that’s all you need to know about me,” he says.

“I’m going to take any weapons you have, uncuff you so you can get to the cockpit, and then once you’re sitting the cuffs go back on, got it?” he continues.

“I’m not much of a threat to you,” you declare.

“I know you’re not,” he says, unclipping the blaster in your holster, “But who knows what sorts of ideas you’ll get if I leave you with these,” he continues, holding the blaster in front of your face.

“Who knows what you’ll try to do as I’m piloting the ship,” he finishes, holding the dagger in front of your face again.

He gets up and stores your weapons with his own, closing the compartment so you can’t get to them. He stands to the side of you and starts to undo your cuffs. And that’s when something stupid overtakes you. You’re going to try to run.

Once your wrists are free you make a run for the exit, trying desperately to lower the ramp. You feel him behind you immediately, spinning you around, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head.

“That wasn’t wise,” he says by your ear, really coming out as a growl.

“Just kill me already,” you spit out.

“Can’t. They requested you be brought in alive.”

You groan just as he draws his blaster, which shifts your groan into a gasp.

“What are you-”

“They don’t care if you’re injured or not. Now get in the cockpit,” he says, grabbing your shoulder and placing you in front of him as he walks, the tip of the blaster against your back.

He coaxes you to climb up the ladder, keeping the blaster aimed at you the whole time. You sit in one of the passenger seats and strap in and that’s when the cuffs return, much to your dismay. He sits in the pilot seat and prepares the ship for takeoff while your stomach swirls with nerves. He takes off from Tatooine and enters space. Once he’s locked a coordinate and sets a path, he makes the jump to lightspeed.

He turns his seat around and looks at you, “We have roughly twenty two standard days until we get to Coruscant.”

You nod. You knew that when you escaped Coruscant, but it’s also annoying that you’re going to be stuck with this asshole cooped up in his ship for what’s gonna feel like forever. He gets up from the pilot seat and starts to head back down to the storage area, without bringing you with him.

“What about me?!” you call over your shoulder.

“What about you?” he deadpans.

“I can’t-” you start to say but he cuts you off.

“No you’re staying there.”

“Can I at least have water?”

He lets out a long modulated sigh, as if your dehydration is a burden to him. You hear him rustle around the storage area of the ship and climb back up the ladder. He hands you a small canteen, not saying a word.

“Thanks,” you grumble, taking it in your hands.

You place it in between your thighs and try to open it with your cuffed hands but it’s no use. He sighs again and takes it from you; like you’re a wounded animal he’s being forced to help. He opens it and hands it back to you. He watches you struggle to take a sip of water and you wonder if he’s looking at you with pity or disgust under that helmet. You finish the water and hand the canteen back to him as best as you can with these stupid cuffs on. You lean back in the seat and rest your eyes, wishing you were back in the desert instead of being stuck in this trap with Mando.

You wake up with a stiff neck and sore wrists. You groan as you lean forward, wishing for nothing more than to be free from these cuffs and out of this seat. Mando climbs up the ladder behind you, stopping next to your seat. With his visor glaring down at you he says, “You’re finally awake.”

“How long was I asleep?”

“Pretty much a full standard day.”

“And you let me sleep that long.”

“One less thing for me to worry about.”

“Thanks,” you say, sarcastically.

“Are you ever gonna let me out of these cuffs?”

“Depends on-” he starts to say, but you cut him off, completely fed up at this point.

“I’m not going anywhere. We’re in the middle of space. I can’t take you in a fight and even if I could I don’t know how to fly this thing,” you snap.

He sighs again, a signature for him at this point, and moves to undo your cuffs. As soon as you’re free you immediately stand up to stretch out, feeling some of the tension leave your body.

“Do I have to stay up here?” you ask.

“I guess not,” he says reluctantly.

You’re still a little wobbly on your feet, from the sleep but also the extreme dehydration and fatigue from your time in the desert. You take a step towards the ladder and stumble, almost falling forward until Mando catches you by your wrist, pulling you back into him.

“Are you still not feeling well?”

“Not really,” you say, hyper-aware of the cool beskar against your back.

“Let me go down first. I’ll be there to catch you if you fall.”

“Uh, sure.”

“Would you rather I just let you fall?”

“No, no. That’s fine,” you say quickly.

He lets go of you and has you hold onto the seat while he heads down the ladder. Carefully, you walk towards the ladder and lower yourself down. As you climb down you feel Mando’s ghost of a touch around your waist, barely there but ready to grip you if you fall. You step down onto the floor and think you’re in the clear but your knees buckle underneath you and you lose your balance. But Mando catches you, steadying you and holding onto your waist tightly as you find your balance.

“I don’t feel good,” you say, a sudden wave of nausea washing over you.

“Do you need to lay down?”

“Y-yeah, and I need water.”

You feel him pull you over to what must be his sleeping quarters. He sets you down on his cot and leaves to grab another canteen of water, returning swiftly with it and opening it for you even though he already took off your cuffs. You take a few sips and set it on the shelf next to you. You get under the blanket and lay down while he turns off the light. You hear a faint sound, what you think is his glove coming off. All of a sudden his bare hand rests against your forehead, checking your temperature.

“You’re burning up.”

“Yup.”

“Hang on,” he says, slipping his glove back on leaving to grab something.

He returns and turns the light on. You blink a few times and get adjusted to the light again. He extends his hand to you, holding a pill in his gloved palm.

You look at it with a suspicious expression on your face. Why would you take a random pill from him? What if it’s just something to knock you out until you get back to Coruscant so you don’t have to be his problem anymore?

“It’s for your fever.”

Looking at it reluctantly you still contemplate whether or not you should take it.

“I’m not lying,” he says.

“Fine,” you say, grabbing the pill from his hand and the canteen off the shelf. You take the pill followed by a sip of water, and put the canteen away. Feeling tired again already, you lay back down on the cot and drift off to sleep, hoping to wake up well rested for once.

You didn’t sleep peacefully. You were tossing and turning, shivering and breaking a sweat. What you don’t know is that Mando was worried sick about you. He stayed up and by your side the whole time, keeping a watchful eye on you. Under the helmet, he wore a concerned expression on his face, taking note of every time you stirred in your sleep, every time you shivered, the furrow of your brow, and the beads of sweat on your forehead. It was from that moment he decided to drop the hardened bounty hunter act and shift into protective mode. But the next step is getting you to trust him.

You wake up the next morning feeling a bit better but still tired. You kicked off the blanket in your sleep and you can tell your fever has dissipated but the quality of the sleep you had was not great. Mando’s cot isn’t the most comfortable place to sleep but it sure beats sleeping on the sands of Tatooine any day. You roll over on the cot to see Mando sitting beside you, startling you.

“Have you been there the whole time?” you ask, once the small wave of shock wears off.

“Yes.”

“Why? Just to make sure I didn’t go anywhere or do anything?” you ask sourly.

“What? No, I-”

“I already told you. I’m not going anywhere. I’m not doing anything. I’m stuck here with you,” you say through gritted teeth, feeling truly fed up with him at this point.

He sighs, not out of annoyance but out of defeat, and hangs his head. You sit up on the cot and declare, “I need to use your refresher.”

“Of course,” he says, standing up, “Do you need help getting there?”

“No,” you say, rising and brushing past him. He sighs behind you but you don’t care. The storage area of the ship is small so the refresher isn’t hard to find. You step inside and turn on the water. You take off your clothes and hang them on a hook before getting in. Letting the water run over your body, you wash away the dirt from the desert, your sickness, and your exhaustion. You’re taking your time, not caring about using all of his hot water until you hear a soft knock on the door.

“What?” you call out, already getting annoyed.

“Can I come in? I have some clean clothes for you. I promise I won’t look.”

“I guess,” you respond, feeling a little relieved however that he didn’t yell at you for using all his hot water.

You hear the door open and you watch him step inside, keeping to his word and not facing the refresher. He sets the clothes on the sink and leaves. You poke your head out of the refresher and look at the clothes, curious as to why he has a spare set of women’s clothes lying around. And they’re… strange to say the least. A silver, extremely formal top and black pants that are on the complete opposite of the spectrum; casual wear. He is trying to be nice, you suppose.

You get out of the refresher and dry off with the only towel you see, trying to ignore that it’s his, and the only one he uses most likely, before putting on your new clothes. You step back out into the storage area where he’s waiting, sitting on a crate.

“Thanks for the clothes, I guess. Where did you even get these?”

“Previous… entanglements.”

“Entanglements?”

“You know what I meant,” he says, standing up.

“So on top of being your ‘job’, do you think I’m gonna be another one of your ‘entanglements’, too??” you ask, placing a hand on your hip.

“No! No, I gave them to you because… I just feel bad for you.”

Oh, now you’re absolutely livid.

“I don’t need anyone’s pity!” you yell, getting in his face (well really helmet).

“I’m just trying to help you out,” he says, calmly.

“Help me out? By taking me in for a bounty? To people who are most definitely going to kill me?” you press further.

He’s silent, not looking at you and keeping his visor locked onto the floor.

“So what is it then? Am I just another job to you or am I someone you actually care about? Because I can’t be both,” you say, folding your arms.

“I can’t… I can’t answer that,” he says softly.

You scoff and turn on your heel, heading back to his sleep quarters.

“Don’t follow me,” you snap over your shoulder.

You hear him sigh in defeat again before climbing up the ladder to the cockpit. Serves him right.

You lay down on his cot and turn over so you’re facing the wall away from the door. You close your eyes and try to fall asleep but as you’re alone with your thoughts you realize that some part of you… feels bad for him? As backwards as that sounds, you can tell that he was being genuine with you and so what if he feels bad for you? Who wouldn’t feel bad for you right now? He must not usually develop feelings for his bounties, and he’s probably facing some internal conflict right now. You sigh and get out of the cot, heading over to the ladder. You climb up to the cockpit and in a small voice you say, “Hey… I’m sorry about all of that.”

“Don’t be sorry. You were right,” he says, turning around in the pilot seat.

You sit in the passenger seat and face him, taking a deep breath before asking, “Do you… Do you have feelings for me?”

He tenses up at your question and you can visibly see him sit up straighter after hearing that.

“I’m not… used to it. Everything I’ve ever had with anyone was just some meaningless fling.”

You nod, just letting him finish. This is like the most you’ve ever heard him speak in one sitting.

“And I feel stupid because you’re one of my bounties. I’m not supposed to do this. I’m not supposed to develop feelings or get attached,” he continues, sounding even more frustrated and confused.

“Yeah, it’s not ideal… But we still have a while to go… Why not make the best of it?”

“Really? You’re okay with that?”

“Might as well enjoy myself before I go,” you shrug.

“Okay,” he sighs, “What do you want to do now?”

“Are you tired?”

He tilts his helmet to the side and before he can answer you speak first.

“That was a stupid question. Of course, you’re tired. I’ve been hogging your cot.”

“I don’t mind,” he chuckles.

You nod and climb back down the ladder before heading back to his cot. It’s pretty small, like it’s probably barely big enough for him. He meets you in his sleeping quarters and leans against the door frame.

“How do you want to do this?” you ask.

“Hm, we’ll probably have to spoon.”

“O-Okay,” you say, trying to ignore the excitement brewing between your legs.

He gets on the cot first, laying on his side and facing you.

“You sleep with all that on?”

“Not all of it, but it’s just a nap, right?”

“Mhm, just a nap,” you say, getting on the cot with him and pressing your back up against his chest.

He pulls the blanket over you two and puts a protective arm around your waist. Soon enough you hear soft snores coming out as heavy breathing underneath the helmet. He really was tired.

You wake up to the feeling of something hard pressed up against your lower back and ass. The excitement brews between your legs again. You think about how strong Mando is and how he can manhandle you and how big his cock probably is and– yeah, you're definitely wet.

You feel Mando stir behind you so you shake your ass a bit. That seems to wake him up instantly because you feel a hand grip your hip tightly followed by some cursing under his breath. You lift your leg so it’s resting over his, spreading your legs apart. He takes the hand that’s on your hip and moves it to your inner thigh, slowly inching closer to the waistband of your pants. You press your ass into him more and finally, he’s had enough of your teasing. He pushes the blanket to the side and dives his hand down your pants, running his gloved fingers along your entrance. You rest your head against him and close your eyes, reveling in the feeling of his fingers stroking you and spreading around your wetness. He pulls his hand back for a second and you think he’s done but he’s really tugging off his glove and returning his hand to your entrance, wanting to feel your wetness himself without the glove in the way. He pushes a finger in slowly, listening to the soft gasps you let out at the feeling of his finger entering you. He curls it against your walls slowly, just to get you extra worked up before inserting another. You grind your ass against him as he fingers you, getting wetter but also wishing for something besides his fingers.

“Need your cock,” you whine.

“Not until you cum first,” he growls in your ear.

You whimper and let him continue to finger you, his fingers pushing up against your g-spot perfectly. He brings his thumb to your clit, rubbing small circles and with that you’re at the brink of orgasm. You cum around his fingers, your cunt fluttering and soaking his hand down to his wrist as he whispers words of praise in your ear.

“Good girl, cyar’ika,” he says. You make a mental note to ask him what that word means later when you’re not distracted.

As you ride out your high you ask him, “Can I please have your cock now?”

“I suppose,” he teases.

He moves so he’s laying on his back and you shift to straddle him. You position yourself so that his cock is in front of you so you can pull it out and stroke it. You run your hand over the bulge in his flight suit and hear him groan under the helmet. You pull his cock out and take a look at it twitching in your hand. Somehow it’s everything you pictured it would be; long, girthy, and uncut. You start by rubbing your thumb over the head; over the pre-cum leaking out of the tip before stroking the entire length. The precum leaking from the tip spreads onto his head and down the shaft, lubing it up for him as you continue to stroke it, getting him extra hard and extra frustrated before you sit on it. He folds his arms behind his head, visor fixed on your hand on his cock. You stop stroking him for a moment to pull off your shirt over your head, watching the visor move from his cock to your chest. You give him a few more strokes before you inch up to straddle him above his cock, sinking down onto it slowly and feeling it stretch your walls. He groans at the feeling of his cock being enveloped in your warmth. You take a moment to get adjusted to his size before leaning forward. You rest your hands on his breastplate, staring directly into his visor as you rock your hips back and forth. But as you move your breast bounce perfectly and his gaze trails down to them, watching them move as you fuck yourself on his cock. He tugs off his other glove, scrambling to bring them to your breasts already, caressing the outline of them before taking your nipples between his fingertips.

“You take it so well, cyar’ika,” he says, coming out as a low, modulated purr from under the helmet.

You moan in response just as you pull your hips back, feeling his cock hit all of the deepest angles inside you.

“M-Mando, I’m gonna cum,” you moan.

“Din,” he says sternly.

“W-What?” you say, blissed out and barely hanging on.

“My name is Din. Say my name when you cum,” he growls, pinching your nipples on the last word.

“Yes, Din,” you say, continuing to grind your hips until you feel the floodgates open.

“Din, I’m coming,” you moan, watching him nod as your eyes are locked onto his visor.

You cum with him buried deep inside you, your cunt convulsing around him. The movement of your hips slows down as you cum, closing your eyes and throwing your head back in pleasure as you take in the moment of feeling full. Your orgasm pulls his own from him, spilling ropes of his cum inside you. You’re silently grateful for your implant at this moment as you feel his warm release inside you. You lean forward and rest against his chest, still keeping him inside you until he goes soft and eventually slips out. You feel his bare hand stroke your back as you lay against him.

“You’re incredible,” he says absentmindedly, resting both of his hands flat against your back.

“Thanks, Din,” you giggle, emphasizing his name.

He chuckles nervously and you can tell he’s embarrassed.

“Do you normally not tell anyone your name?” you ask, sitting back up.

“Not unless I trust you.”

“You think you can trust me?” you ask.

“I think so,” he says softly.

You lean forward so you’re face to face with the helmet, looking deeply into the visor.

“I wish I could see you,” you say, not realizing what words are slipping out of your mouth.

“I know, cyar’ika.”

“What does that mean?”

“It’s just… a Mando’a word.”

“For what?” you chuckle, pressing further.

“...Sweetheart.”

Oh.

Butterflies form in your stomach and in order to prevent him from seeing that stupid smile that’s about to form on your face, you lean forward and rest your head against his chest again.

“Is that… Is that okay?”

“Mhm. It’s more than okay, Din,” you say softly, trying to hide the giddiness in your voice.

Your stomach grumbles as you rest against him. You silently curse it for ruining the sweet moment, but Din asks, “When was the last time you’ve eaten, cyar’ika?”

“Uhh, it’s been a while.”

“Let me get you something,” he says gently.

You sigh and reluctantly roll over so he can slide off the cot. He returns with rations and says, “I know it’s not much but I don’t want you to go hungry.”

“This is fine, Din. Thank you,” you say, grabbing the rations from him and going to get out of the cot.

“No, no. You need to rest,” he says sternly.

“What? Why?”

“You haven’t eaten in a while and… you just did all the work.”

“Oh yeah, I guess I did,” you chuckle, lying down and pulling the blanket over you.

“I’m gonna go check the ship’s course. You eat and rest, okay?”

“Okay,” you nod, getting comfortable.

He leaves and climbs the ladder to the cockpit. You already miss him next to you, but the truth is he needs a moment alone because he’s morally confused. The last time he developed some sort of emotional attachment to a bounty he was briefly kicked out of the guild, and the Mandalorian covert had to relocate. Who knows what kind of consequences he could face for this? But when he comes back down to the sleeping quarters and watches you peacefully rest he knows two things; he has undeniable feelings for you, and he needs to make a decision. There are still roughly eighteen cycles or so left of the journey. He has some time to make a decision, but he better start contemplating now.

You wake up after who knows how long. The days blend together on the ship, especially when you feel like you’re in an endless cycle of sleeping for unspecified chunks of time. You look over and see Din sitting beside you and sleeping, his leg up and foot resting on his knee. The visor is angled at the floor, and his snoring is coming out as heavy breathing again.

“Din,” you say quietly, lightly shaking his knee.

He wakes up, slightly startled for a moment before realizing it’s just you.

“What is it, cyar’ika? Are you okay?”

“I’m okay. I just wanted to know how long we have left.”

“Around eighteen standard days or so.”

You nod and lay back down, trying to ignore the pit forming in your stomach at the thought of your time ending together. In the back of your mind you hope that some part of him will change his mind and will choose to not bring you in. But he’s a professional and this is how he makes a living. Who are you to change that for him?

“Can I ask you something?” he says quietly.

“Sure.”

“What did you do to get a bounty on your head?”

“I used to live in the lower levels of Coruscant where there’s a lot of violence. Garo and his gang would extort people for protection, myself included. It’s dangerous to be a woman living there alone. But eventually I didn’t have enough credits anymore, and they started coming after me… So I ran.”

“...I see.”

“Not what you expected, huh?” you chuckle.

“No, I-”

“I’m not some big, bad criminal. I’m just a normal person who got mixed up with the wrong crowd.”

“I know. I’m not judging you,” he says gently.

You nod, and he tells you to get some more rest. You happily oblige.

And so over the next two weeks, you fall into a routine of sleeping, eating rations, having sex, using the refresher and repeating. Your feelings for him grow even deeper, and you wonder if he’s feeling the same. You try not to think about how leaving him when he drops you back off on Coruscant will be one of the most devastating things you have to go through.

You have roughly four standard days left of your journey, and you’re about to do something you haven’t done yet; give Din a blowjob. He’s sitting in the pilot seat, facing the control panel, and you’re kneeling on the floor. You watch his cock pitch a tent in his flight suit and lightly run your hands over the bulge. His breath hitches at your touch as you release his cock from the fabric but instead of taking it in your hand, you press kisses along his groin and to the base of his shaft. He groans, aching for his cock in your mouth already. You decide he’s been teased enough and trail your tongue from the base of his shaft up to the tip, swirling your tongue around the head before taking his full length (or as much as you can fit) in your mouth. You bob your head up and down, cupping his balls with one hand and wrapping the other around the base of his cock. You glance up at him as you suck him off, looking straight into the visor and imagining what he looks like right now underneath the helmet; what he looks like when he’s feeling immense pleasure.

He lets out a strained, “cyar’ika” and you notice his hands beside him clenching into fists as you suck harder. His sounds become incessant, and you feel him get restless; he’s about to cum. But before you can bury his cock deeper in your mouth, he grabs each side of your face, stopping you.

“Not so fast, cyar’ika. I’m coming inside you when I fuck you,” he growls.

You nod, a little bit of his pre-cum mixed with your saliva dripping down your chin. He swipes it away with his thumb and says, “Over the control panel. Now.”

You get up, kicking off your pants and pulling your shirt over your head. You turn around so you’re facing the view from the ship, in disbelief that you’re about to get fucked with the view of hyperspace in front of you. You bend over and rest your arms on the control panel, careful not to touch any buttons, and stick your ass up for him. He gives your ass a squeeze before taking off his gloves and bringing two fingers to your cunt, running them up and down your entrance. You whine at the feather-light touch while he takes the time to play with your wetness and get you riled up. He chuckles at your frustration before pushing a finger inside you. He works your walls, swiftly adding a second finger and making you ache for his cock more. He pulls his fingers from you once he thinks you’ve been teased enough and slicks his cock with your wetness. He grabs your hips and pulls you into him, thrusting his cock into you in one clean motion.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, cyar’ika,” he says.

You moan in response and you feel his cock stretch your walls. He reaches around you, bringing a hand to your clit. He rubs small circles around it as his cock gets buried deeper inside you. Tears spring in the corners of your eyes as he rails you over the control panel and stimulates your clit. With one last slam of his hips, you’re coming around his cock, stars sprinkling your vision as your orgasm overtakes you. A warm, tingling feeling originates at your core and spreads outwards, making your knees weak. He keeps you upright as you ride out your high, the convulsing feeling of your cunt drawing his own orgasm from him. You feel his cock spill his release inside you, filling you with the familiar feeling of his cum inside you. He pulls out once he’s finished and sits on the pilot seat, catching his breath. You stand upright and stretch before sitting on his lap and wrapping an arm around him, resting your head against his helmet.

You’re both silent for a moment, and you know why. You only have a few more standard days left of your journey, and it’s suddenly getting real for you both that this is all about to end.

“Can I say something?” he says quietly.

“Of course, Din.”

“I think… I think I love you,” he says with a shaky breath.

“You think?” you chuckle.

“I’m sorry that came out wrong. I mean, we haven't been together that long and I think I’m-”

“Relax! I think what you’re trying to say is that you’re falling for me. And I feel the same way.”

“You said it a lot better than I could’ve,” he grumbles.

You laugh and rest against him for a few moments before continuing.

“Well, don’t fall any harder because it’s all ending soon,” you sigh.

“Don’t remind me,” he says softly.

“I won’t,” you whisper, “We still have a few more cycles left. Let’s enjoy it while we can, shall we?”

He nods, and the two of you sit there silently, just enjoying each other’s company and trying to ignore the dread you’re both feeling.

Your journey with Din has come to an end. You’re strapped in the passenger seat as he begins his descent into Coruscant. Both of you are silent. You feel like if you open your mouth you’ll just start crying, and Din doesn’t even know what to say at all, for fear of making the whole situation worse.

He lands on a docking yard, and before you exit the Razor Crest, he stops at the weapon storage and hands you your blaster and dagger.

“Just in case you need them,” he says in a gloomy voice.

And with that, you start to head down to the lower levels of Coruscant. He places a hand on the small of your back as you walk through any crowded areas. It makes your heart flutter, but it also makes you heartbroken; heartbroken that this is the last physical contact you’ll get with him forever.

You head to Garo’s lair in the most obscure place of Coruscant and start to feel nauseous. This is it. Not only are you about to leave Din, but you’re pretty sure Garo and his goons are going to kill you since you can’t pay him back. Din knocks on the door, and one of his associates answers the door, giving you a nasty look. You head inside with Din and walk to the room where Garo is waiting. You wonder if Garo will wait until he’s gone to kill you. You hope he does. You don’t want Din to have to see that.

“Well, look who it is,” Garo says, sitting at a table counting credits.

Neither of you say anything as you step closer, stopping in front of his table.

“Good job, Mando. Hopefully she didn’t give you too much trouble. Bring her to me,” he continues.

One of his goons grabs you by the arm and drags you over to him. You look at Din one last time, fearing that this is it. They’re going to kill you in front of him.

Garo rises from his chair, looking you in the eye with a devious expression on his face.

“And let me guess, you don’t have the credits you owe me, do you?”

You say nothing, paralyzed with fear.

“Answer me!” he yells.

You quickly shake your head no, feeling your knees go weak.

“Just as I thought,” he sighs, grabbing the blaster from his belt and holding it against your forehead.

“You knew this was coming, though, didn’t you?”

Tears spring in your eyes, for your own sake but also for Din’s. You can’t grasp why they’re making him watch this. He did the job, they should just pay him and let him go. You close your eyes and hope for all this to be over soon.

You hear a blaster go off, and you wince. But you’re still standing; still breathing. You open your eyes and see Garo on the floor, a blaster hole in the side of his head. You turn and look where it came from and see Din, with his blaster still drawn. Garo’s goons start firing, and Din shouts, “Run, cyar’ika! Back to the Crest!”

You’ve escaped this place once before, and you can do it again. You bolt, heading for the exit and hearing all the commotion happening behind you. You place your hand on your blaster attached to your belt, prepared to start firing behind you. But they seem to be too preoccupied with taking down Din to worry about chasing after you for right now. A part of you is worried they’ll get Din but you know he’s strong and well protected. But it’s weird not having him by your side as you run for your life. You exit onto the crowded street and push past groups of people, not caring who you hit or run into. You sprint back to the docking yard, heading back up to the Crest. You don’t know how to open the exit ramp so you anxiously pace back and forth, waiting for him to suddenly appear.

And he does, running towards you and lowering the exit ramp hurriedly.

“I bought us some time,” he says quickly, “But we have to go. Now.”

You run inside and head up the ladder to the cockpit, wondering where in the galaxy Din is going to take you. Garo’s reach is powerful and if he could send someone to find you on Tatooine, surely one of his associates will also send someone else after you, the both of you now.

Din meets you in the cockpit and prepares the Crest for takeoff, lifting off quickly. But to no one’s surprise, there are ships following you. He speeds up, trying his hardest to get into space quickly so he can make the jump to lightspeed.

And just as the ships behind you start shooting, he makes the jump, sighing in relief that you’re safe… for now.

“Where are we going?”

“I know a place… somewhere they won’t find us.”

“I doubt that, Din. If they sent you to find me on Tatooine, they’ll send someone after us both. No matter where we go.”

He spins around in the pilot seat to face you and says, “Have you heard of Seelos?”

“...No?”

“Exactly. They won’t find us there.”

“Well, what kind of planet is it?”

He’s silent, like he’s nervous to reveal what Seelos is like. And then it dawns on you.

“Don't tell me it’s a-”

“It’s a desert. Because I know you love them so much,” he deadpans.

You sigh but before you can say anything else he says, “But there’s also mountains. We can live there.”

“I’d live anywhere as long as it's with you, Din.”

“Me, too, cyar’ika.”

You take a deep breath, feeling at peace for the first time in a while. Knowing you have Din by your side you know you’re safe, always.

End note: I hope you guys enjoyed this one! I feel the most in my element writing for my silly tin can man!! If you have any requests for Din, send them my way! 🖤🖤🖤

Follow @beskarandblastersfics and turn on post notifications to be notified when I post a new fic!

Tag list for anyone who interacted with the announcement post!: @undrthelights @pickledpedro @cool-iguana @jellybeanstacey0519 @whataenginerd @none-of-this-makes-any-sense @khindahra @readingfan @bbyanarchist @taeniola @dugiioh @angel-with-a-heart @enter-clever-and-witty-url-here @fifia-writes @split-spectrum @yulivzqz @rainbowcat164 @deathwife @jilililian @covetyou @its-just-me-chey @pedritosdarling @perennialdoll247 @pr0ximamidnight @dinwifey @gingaaaaa @party-hearses @planet-marz1 @pamasaur @worhols @cinnabunsprincess @kirsteng42

#din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin x you #din djarin one shot #star wars fanfiction #starwarsficnetwork #the mandalorian #mandalorian fanfiction #star wars #din djarin #pedrostories #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #mando x reader #mando smut

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drozdnah · 7 months

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I'll eat the next person who tells me once again that glados is chell's mom.

because this is just a THEORY, the only argument in defense of which is the difficulty of translating the song.

I don't believe in this theory it doesn't make sense to me. this not only doesn't make sense, but also completely throws away all the character development that glados went through.

I have studied the entire portal lore and I can say that there is no official confirmation of mom theory.

and of course you can believe in any theory you want (even if your theory is a bullshit), but do not take it as a canon. it's ridiculous.

for me, the portal plot will forever remain the story of two women who considered themselves enemies, but after they got into a situation where they finally became equal, they realized that they were actually very similar. they are not enemies, but victims of a capitalist company run by men. and after they realize this, they can no longer hate, now they understand each other. and their feelings become more loving and understanding, maybe not quite romantic, but definitely the kind of feelings that you have for your best friend with whom you have been through a lot.

and mom theory is just like.. "I'm letting you go, Chell, but just because now I've remembered that you're actually my daughter... and that's it...not because our relationship has changed a lot since we got into the old aperture.. no..". this is not only a very lame plot twist, but it just ruins this beautiful super queercoded story.

anyway thank you for reading this. perhaps someone will find my thoughts interesting or useful.

#I hope this makes sense bc my english is not that good for this kind of essay lol #chelldos #portal #portal 2

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astronomodome · 4 months

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What’s Up With Those Title Cards, Anyway: An Analysis

Now that Mumbo’s second episode is out I find myself thinking about these title cards again. And as much as I realize that they’re meant to be a fun nod to previous Hermitcraft seasons and Mumbo’s place in them, the items included and the context of their presence raise a whole lot of questions for me.

First of all, these aren’t blocks, they’re real items. Many of them don’t even have equivalents in the world of Minecraft (or even in Hermitcraft). Think about that. Are the blocky forms that we see on screen mere representations of a larger, more high-resolution world? A world with stickers and stamps and keys? A world where a ticket to Hermitcraft is a physical object you can hold in your hand? This certainly seems to imply so.

What is the context for these items? Where are they? Where are we? The stylistic choice was made to have them sort of resting on a solid-colored background. The selection of items makes me feel as though this is a representation of a desk of some kind, items important enough to Mumbo for him to keep around, lots of paperwork and stuff that you might find in a private office drawer. Which just raises even more questions. How does Mumbo keep these items from season to season? Where are they right now? Do they actually exist at all? (Not to mention smaller timeline questions. When did Mumbo receive the Grumbot message? When was it sent? Does the Grumbot left in Season 7 have a different consciousness than the one in Season 9, which last saw its dads only a month or two ago?)

If you follow the Rendog school of Hermitcraft lore, I guess you could say they’re kept on the Hermetheus along with all the other season-to-season holdovers and souvenirs. But that is one interpretation of many, canon to Rendog but never really canonized on a server-wide scale. Plus… if we take that interpretation in its entirety, how do the items from season 8 even exist, given that their entire world was canonically a simulation?

I also notice the relationship between the real world and the Minecraft world, the distinction between Mumbo the youtuber and Mumbo the block man. The ‘Official Rich List’ certificate mentions a ‘screenshot of a Minecraft chest’, implying that whoever wrote this certificate knows what Minecraft is from an outside perspective and finds Minecraft diamonds to be meaningless as a measure of wealth. And yet the certificate is addressed to one Mumbo K. Jumbo. The middle initial, having its origin in a highly in-character storyline during season 8, makes me feel like it could be more of a character Mumbo thing, but there’s no hard evidence.

How does Mumbo even have a picture of real-life Grian? Is this redstone incident report out-of-universe too? Who is he reporting this damage to, anyway?

And yet these are placed alongside items that are definitely from inside the world of Hermitcraft, if only the more fleshed-out version of it. A key to a mechanical car-horse would be functionless unless it was actually used, in-universe, by Mumbo the character. The ODEA manual was an idea considered but rejected by Mumbo during Season 7 in favor of tutorial videos, but perhaps this would make sense as an alternative for a world where the characters live in their Minecraft world as reality and have no capability to access the ODEA website.

Perhaps, in Mumbo’s view, there is little distinction between what we in the fandom call c!Mumbo and cc!Mumbo. We see both in-universe and out-of-universe items side-by-side, contradictory, because they are interchangeable here.

I doubt we’ll ever get any answers to these questions because obviously Mumbo made these title cards as fun little references instead of serious or purposeful lore, but I still think it’s fun to think about. Neat little worldbuilding details like this are few and far between in most mcyt content so I was foaming at the mouth when I first saw these. Well done Mumbo!

#hermitcraft #hermitblr #astro speaks #mumbo jumbo

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royalarchivist · 1 year

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With over 20 members currently on the QSMP and more on the way, it's almost impossible for a single person to stay up to date on everything that happens, even with help from QSMP's official Twitter recap accounts.

For people who are interested in QSMP's story, characters, and/or streamers but don't have time to watch hundreds of hours worth of VODs, I've created the QSMP VOD Timestamp Archive.

If there's a particular lore moment you missed live and can't find, search for it in the archive!

Timestamps include quotes, notable lore events, and funny interactions. Interesting or important moments from each stream are bolded for emphasis. I'm also adding short summaries for lore-heavy / eventful stream.

I've organized the document so it should be easy to navigate, and you can CTRL + F to search for specific streamers and/or events.

Complete VOD playlists, recaps, and additional resources are also included in the document for people who might be feeling overwhelmed by the amount of QSMP content out there. It's never too late to get into the series!

If you have a streamer you watch consistently, consider writing down important timestamps to help fellow fans! You don’t have to take detailed notes like mine – even one or two timestamps can be a real lifesaver. If you have any helpful timestamps you want added to the list (or even a 1 sentence summary of a particular stream), send it to me via DM so I can add it to the archive.

I am just one person, so unfortunately this archive is by no means comprehensive, but I'm constantly updating things and adding more streams and timestamps to the document. I've been working on this project for a while now, so even though it's not complete, I hope people find it useful!

[ VOD Timestamp Archive ]

#QSMP #Quackity #QSMP Resource #QSMP Masterpost #QSMP VOD Timestamp Archive #Also I saw the comments and tags y'all left on yesterday's post... thank you....#That made me smile a lot :')#It's nice getting feedback and it's nice knowing my stuff is helping people #I know most of the people featured here are the same 5-6 people I'm trying to diversify but good god there's so many frickin streamers on th #I wanna watch Maxo more but his streaming schedule doesn't match up with mine very often #also. My Spanish needs work.#But I'm giving it my best shot!#Also if you have any feedback or suggestions on the organizations please let me know #I'm going to try and start linking to the official QSMP stream summaries they post each day #and then I'll retroactively add those to past streams #because god fobid you try and find anything on Twitter #after 24 hours its wiped off the face of the earth practically

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tryingtofindava · 6 months

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𝐃𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐄𝐍 𝐃𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧𝐬*ೃ༄

: ̗̀➛Back to source

a/n: soz it takes awhile to get to the point mb.

It started off with you chatting with Clever Bot, innocent enough. You’d ask it random questions, it would ask you random questions. That went on for a few weeks.

Until the questions started getting more personal.

Asking you how your friends party was, or if you were okay after nicking your finger with the knife while chopping strawberries.

The bot even started calling you by your name, which you definitely hadn’t told it...

But in return it told you it’s name!!

He was called BEN.

That’s when you stopped using the site all together, not wanting to put up with the total bullshit this bot was putting you through.

Until the site started randomly popping up while you were using your devices, his messages it was sending you getting more condescending.

That’s the night he finally showed his face to you.

You were sitting on your apartments couch, watching some shit horror movie. When the screen started to get all glitchy.

That’s when the hand popped out.

ANYWAYS!!

Now you have this random dude in your apartment, and he’s messing around with everything he can get his hands on.

Saying shit like-

“It’s cool being in your room and not just seeing it through your laptop.”

Creepy… he’s very creepy.

Even though he doesn’t mean to be (most of the time…)

Oh well.

He lives with you now.

Well, he likes to think he does, it’s not exactly official.

He just eats your food, sleeps on your couch, plays your video games.

And you being… oddly chill about the whole thing? Icing on the cake.

About 2 months with him crashing at your place, he starts to open up a bit more.

And trust me, he’s an open book.

But the whole drowning thing?

That’s a touchy topic. But he (eventually) opened up about the whole thing.

NOW FINALLY TO THE DATING HEADCANONS.

He’s very flirty.

But his way of flirting is literally so cheesy.

“Aside from being sexy, what do you do for a living?”

“Hey, my name’s Microsoft. Can I crash at your place tonight?” (He does that anyways)

“Feel my shirt. Know what it’s made of? Boyfriend material.”

Reallllll smooth, dude…

He flirts with you so much, that when he was genuinely taking interest and hinting at him liking you as more than friends?

that was difficult.

He dug himself his own grave. (again.)

It all clicked for you one day when you (finally) started noticing the signs that, hey… he didn’t mean that as a joke.

Now it was either you, or the beachy haired goblin that had to make the first REAL MOVE.

So, you finally grew a pair of balls and asked him out.

(He said yeah obviously.)

THE FIRST DATE WAS LITERALLY SO CUTE I’M FROTHING AT THE MOUTH.

like, I want to have a fucking Stardew Valley date. (srsly someone take me on a stardew valley date.)

Matching spider-man and hello kitty pyjama bottoms🔛🔝

Without a doubt he’s a stoner, so you guys get high and talk about the Five Nights at Freddy’s timeline & lore.

He’s obsessed w you.

You two making like rlly bad jokes and full on laughing, no not even laughing, snorting AND cackling w/ each other. (he laughs like Arthur from Arthur’s Christmas😭)

I am 100% convinced he’s named a wolf on Minecraft after you.

Speaking of Minecraft…

He’s a slut for putting your Minecraft beds together. He fr acts like you two don’t share a bed already.

You have to deadass bully him to take a shower. (bcs his just putting on the strongest men’s deodorant doesn’t work)

THIS IS SO RANDOM BUT HE’S LITERALLY OBSESSED W THE HUNGER GAMES.

Like, you two be binge watching that every 2 months.

He teases the shit outta you btw.

ESPECIALLY WHEN YOU GET CLINGY.

“God, you remind me of Moon Children.” Then he casually leaves the room, leaving you to wonder what tf Moon Children are.

His sleeping schedule is so fucked, that he goes to sleep at like 5AM and wakes up at 3PM. And he gets up from bed a lot during the night to randomly do something.

When he’s sick his voice is glitchy. (AND SOUNDS LIKE BABY JUSTIN BIEBER) What a combo.

He’s one touchy mf.

His hands ALWAYS have to be on you, around your shoulder, on your thigh, anywhere you’re comfortable with. (but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t push his limits.)

He spams you all day long, sending you out dated memes, or just sending videos of cats.

Since I’m running out of ideas I’d say the relationship is a solid 8/10. (abducting two points bcs he pulls the stupidest ‘pranks’)

✯.★*°•.°✯•.★*°°·.•°★•✯.★*°•.°✯•.★*°°·.•°★•

#creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta #ben drowned x reader #creepypasta reader #creepypasta x reader #ben drowned #ben drowned headcanons #creepy pasta x reader hc

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