#its difficult to just catch up or to a similar level
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Front Row Seat (18+)
Soft!Dark!Lloyd Hansen x PlusSize!Reader
Summary: Lloyd gives you something to do while he’s getting information out of his target–keep his cock nice and warm.
Main Masterlist
Warnings: (I mean, it’s Lloyd which seems like all the warning u need) Dark!fic, Non-con/Dub-con(reader is Lloyd’s captive), Smut, Cock warming, P in V sex, Public sex/humiliation, degradation, Pet names, Overstimulation, Angst, Canon level violence & description of Lloyd’s “interrogation” tactics (to an OC) similar to those used in the movie, 18+ Minors DNI. DNR if you do not like or are triggered by such topics. Read at your own risk.
Connected to this drabble: Actions Have Consequences, but it’s not necessary to read it b4 this fic.
Word Count: 4,223
A/N: Do I even need to add ‘dark!’ in front of Lloyd’s name? I feel like it’s a given😈 This man is my new obsession & I’m fully here for it. If you have any requests for this pairing-or just this mustachioed psycho in general-lmk! Like, comment, reblog, I always appreciate feedback so plz let me know what u think!
This story should not be posted anywhere else without my express permission.
Thanks for reading!
-Ruby
“Come on, princess, we don’t got all day!” Lloyd stands a few paces away from the roaring helicopter, his hands resting on his hips, clearly losing his patience waiting for you to get out of the flying death trap. You inhale deeply and unbuckle your seatbelt, which is difficult to do with your trembling hands. Finally, you get it and it zips back into the seat; you stand up on legs just as shaky as your hands and stumble to the open door.
Suddenly, the copter tilts. You’re jostled to the side and your hip rams into an armrest. You cry out, knowing a bruise is already blossoming on the tender flesh. This cabin is too fucking small.
Lloyd’s boisterous laughter rings through the air and you shoot him a silent curse. You wouldn’t ever dare say anything audible, but in your head, you’re throwing every curse under the sun at his smug face.
The chopper hovers a few feet off the ground instead of resting on the helipad for some ungodly reason, and you hesitate when you reach its edge. You swallow, not confident if you hop down that you’ll land on your feet.
Lloyd reaches his arms up. “Jump, I’ll catch ya, sweetheart!” His promise gives you no peace of mind. Lloyd may be strong but you doubt he can so much as lift you up. His eyes narrow when you don’t move. “I said, jump.” Lloyd’s word is law, so you hold your breath and leap.
You squeeze your eyes shut, bracing for a rough landing but it doesn’t come. Two strong arms sweep around your waist and Lloyd pulls you into his chest with a satisfied grunt. His arms are steel, surrounding you in a bear hug. Your feet dangle a foot above the ground; he leans down and they’re met with solid pavement. He drops his arms, resting his hands on your soft waist. “Told you I’d catch ya, princess.” He winks and gives your asscheeks a quick squeeze. You jump at the sudden advance and he snickers.
Grabbing your hand, he leads you away from the helicopter as it flies off, the wind from the spinning blades whipping your hair in every direction. Lloyd’s hair, of course, stays perfectly coiffed, not a dark strand out of place.
Now that you aren’t focused on your harrowing chopper dismount, you look around at your surroundings to see where he’s taking you. A giant hangar sits in the middle of an asphalt lot. A forest of green trees and underbrush crowd around it on all sides except the front. The foliage stretches as far as you can see, parted by a narrow airplane runway.
You have no clue where you are. Ever since you “joined” Lloyd, as he likes to put it, you never have any definitive clue as to your exact location. Sometimes you can make an educated guess, but mostly you’ve given up on attempting to find your bearings. It doesn’t matter anyway. No matter where you go, Lloyd is right there next to you, dictating your every move.
All you know about this place is that Lloyd said he wanted you to come along on one of his “work trips” so you can get acquainted with his line of work. You’re not eager to find out what this “work trip” entails, because knowing Lloyd’s profession, it can’t be good.
A man in tactical armor carrying a large shotgun opens the hangar door and you step into a brightly lit metal cavern. Two sleek charter planes take up most of the building, and large wooden crates fill up any empty space. You can only guess as to what’s inside them, and you don’t want to find out.
Lloyd leads you to a door at the back of the hangar that opens into a long hallway. A musty smell permeates the stale air. Three menacing steel doors line the passage, illuminated by harsh fluorescent lights. Lloyd stops at the last door and raps his knuckles on the dull gray metal.
The door opens and you gasp when you see a man tied to a chair in the middle of the room, a cloth sack covering his head. Your heart begins racing and your eyes fly around the stuffy interior, taking in the two armed guards, the long table lining the far wall, and the worn-out stains splattered around the room. You try not to focus on the dark splotches, even though you’re fairly certain they aren’t old ketchup stains.
You’re too shocked to resist when Lloyd pulls you into what you assume is some kind of interrogation room. Two more guards follow behind. When the door slams shut behind them you snap out of your stupor.
You begin to hyperventilate, your shaky breaths becoming ragged. You tug against Lloyd’s grip, desperate for an escape. The small rectangular windows lining the wall are hardly big enough for you to slip out of, and a guard blocks the only door in the cramped room.
Lloyd squeezes your hand tightly and you yelp, ceasing your attempts to pull free. You whip around to face him, your eyes are wide as saucers and full of panic. His striking face is as calm and cocky as ever. “Don’t be shy princess, you’re being very rude, not greeting our special guest,” he coos, his tone patronizing. He walks over to the man tied to the chair, towing you behind him.
When he’s close enough, Lloyd reaches out and yanks off the sack around the man’s head. His lined face is pinched with rage and he strains against the ropes, his shouts muffled by a dirty black cloth in his mouth. Lloyd pats the angry man’s cheek before he straightens back up. He glances down at you and cocks his head. “Don’t worry about all this,” he gestures around the dingy room, “Mr. Wilson was invited here to have a little chat. He’s gonna answer some questions, isn’t that right, Wilson?”
He bends back down to look at the trapped man–Wilson–and makes a concerned face, “Are you comfortable, old pal? Can I get you anything? Some water? Although you’ll probably want something much stronger for what’s about to happen to you.” Wilson’s dark eyes narrow and he struggles against his restraints, more muffled yells sounding from his gagged mouth. Lloyd’s face scrunches up in mock sympathy. “Sorry, I didn’t get that. Guess you’ll just have to stay here for now.”
Lloyd steps back and motions to one of his men, who sets a large tactical-looking box on the table. While the sizable guard unpacks everything, Lloyd guides you over to a corner on the opposite side of the room. He sets you in front of two more intimidating guards so that you’re facing the bound man. He cups your cheek and murmurs, “Stay right here and watch, princess. Like I said before, I want you to get a taste of what daddy does when he’s not at home.” He gives you a playful wink and pinches your cheek before getting back to the task at hand.
He grabs a chair that’s sitting against the back wall and drags it up to rest in front of Wilson. He doesn’t turn the chair around, instead straddling it with the back facing forward. Leaning over to the table on his left, Lloyd unfurls one of the rolled-up bundles laying on it and a neat row of various metal instruments is revealed. Your stomach drops to the floor at the sight of the ominous devices.
“Now then,” Lloyd hums, as his hand grabs the gag in Wilson’s mouth, “let’s remove this cumbersome thing first.” He rips it out but before Wilson can say anything intelligible, Lloyd cracks him square in the face with his massive fist. The assaulted man’s head snaps back and he lets out a gurgled scream. You jump, covering your mouth with both hands to keep yourself from duplicating the strangled cry. When he lifts his head back up his nose is already turning purple, blood gushing from it.
Lloyd doesn’t miss a beat, he snatches a pair of small pliers from his “toolkit” and waves it in front of the bleeding man’s face. “That was just a little taste. Things are gonna get a lot more painful for you if ya don’t start giving me some answers. Now, is there something you wanna tell me?”
Wilson splutters, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
This time Lloyd’s fist connects with the side of his face; the sickening crunch making your insides reel.
“I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.” As he speaks, the same man who had set up Lloyd’s workstation snatches Wilson’s right hand, straitening one of his fingers out. Lloyd moves in front of it, obstructing your view of the hand, but you can infer by the sounds of pain what he’s doing with the small pliers he’d chosen.
When his howling captive claims ignorance again, Lloyd wrenches his arm back and Wilson’s pained cries increase. “Wrong answer!” Wilson has a crazed look in his eye as Lloyd sets something on the table with the pliers. You almost hurl when you see it. A bloody fingernail.
The nightmare continues for what feels like hours; Lloyd still not getting any closer to whatever it is he’s seeking. You do your best to hold back your revulsion but when the metallic stench of blood hits you, you can’t keep yourself from crying out. When they move to his left hand and you finally see the gruesome work they had down to his right, you sob.
At this point, you can’t control your gasps of horror and mournful whimpers as the man in control of your life tortures a helpless victim in front of your very own eyes. Tears start to stream down your face and your hysterics become louder, drowning out Wilson’s own cries. When Lloyd places the now bloodied pliers down and picks up a much larger pair you can’t control yourself from wailing. “Stop!”
Lloyd stills and draws his hand back from the array of sharp tools, a sudden ominous aura radiating off of him.
Oh god, what have you done?
He slowly stands up, swinging his left leg over the seat, and turns to face you. You expect fury on his features but instead, his eyes gleam with ravenous excitement. Lloyd cracks his neck and saunters forward. His voice drips poisonous honey when he speaks, “You know, sweetheart, normally I’d be pissed at anyone for interrupting me in the middle of work. I mean, I was on a roll, princess!” His posture as he looms towards you is wound tight with unspent energy. You step back but run into the guards behind you. “However, princess, I was already having a difficult time enjoying myself with all your little intrusive sounds.”
He stops directly in front of you, his body almost touching yours, and brings his bloody hands up to frame your face. His touch feels like needles on your heated skin. He squinches his features into a mocking pout, wiping away one of the tears staining your cheek with his thumb.
“I know you’re not used to this yet, but fuck, I didn’t think you’d react like this. You can barely contain yourself, hun. And let me tell you princess, all those whines and moans of yours are making it pretty damn hard to concentrate.” He grabs one of your limp hands and drags it over his crotch. You gasp when you feel his prominent erection and try to jerk your hand back but he grips it tight, massaging your soft palm against his growing bulge. “Fuck, sweetheart. I don’t know how I’m supposed to work under these conditions.”
He suddenly pulls back and strides back over to his bruised prisoner. Wilson flinches when he nears but Lloyd snatches the chair he’d been straddling and drags it back, turning it around as he does so. He sets the heavy metal chair about five feet away from the beaten and bloody man. He sits down, lounging back in his seat, and looks over at you and smiles, his wide grin reminding you of a wolf baring its sharp teeth.
Lloyd wastes no time pulling his straining cock out of his pants, clutching the growing member in his strong grip. His eyes devour you as he strokes it up and down. You’ll never get used to the sight of it, huge and throbbing, the head already leaking pre-cum. It’s split you open too many times to count at this point, but still, your pussy walls are never prepared for his massive size. The first few strokes are always pure agony as your walls are stretched to encompass his substantial girth.
Lloyd’s deep voice cuts through your wandering thoughts, “Well, come on over, princess. Come sit on daddy’s lap so he can help you through all this.”
You step forward but hesitate, hovering just out of his reach. You look around the room with wide eyes, feeling all the heated gazes lingering on your quivering form. Your mouth is dry and your skin feels clammy like you’re burning up. Your voice quavers as you mutter, “P-please, Lloyd, don’t make me do this. I can’t–”
His shrewd eyes flash a warning and you swallow your protest, otherwise, it might be you strapped to the chair opposite him next. You inch towards him, hanging your head; your body shaking with embarrassment. Fear-filled adrenaline and deep shame shoot through your veins.
When you reach him you start to climb onto his lap but he stops you with a blood-smeared hand on your hip. He grips the sides of your pants and tugs them down, taking your panties with them. Your breath hitches and new tears well in your eyes. You cover your face as you step out of your pants, too ashamed to look him in the eyes.
Lloyd takes your hands in his and pulls them away from your cowering face. He chuckles under his breath, eyes dilating at the sight of you bare before him. He licks his lips and his dark mustache twitches when he notices the tremor in your thick thighs. “Hop on, sweetheart.”
Before you can straddle him, he grabs your wide hips and spins you around. “You don’t want to miss the show, now do you, princess?” Your eyes widen when you see the towering guard who had been assisting Lloyd beforehand starting up a generator; attaching jumper cables to it. “Lucky you, getting to watch Tod take over. He’s pretty good at this stuff too, not as good as me, of course.”
Lloyd’s grip on you is tight as he lowers your ass down onto his cock. His cock-head slips in between your pulsing pussy-lips and you gasp at the sensation as he stuffs his thick length inside of you. The burn of him stretching your walls as he pulls you down inch by inch is insufferable. You mewl, throwing your head back and sucking in deep breaths, trying to relax your tense muscles.
He’d already filled you up once today, in the shower that morning, so your pussy is already sore and the added sting as he lowers you down is unbearable. The position you’re in only makes it worse. You can feel every ridge and bulging vein as he pulls your weight down onto his engorged dick, the full sensation too much for your already fucked out cunt. Your whimpers of pain only egg Lloyd on, and when he’s fully sheathed inside you he thrusts his hips up, slamming against your cervix.
You fall back into his chest, your toes curling at the merciless invasion. His next movements are minuscule; just small, shallow thrusts with his cock still buried to the hilt in your quivering sex. In between the teasing thrusts he circles your hips around his cock, growling at the feeling of your ass grinding against him.
His teasing thrusts drive you crazy. They’re enough to rile you up but are far from enough to offer you any kind of release. You’re even more ashamed that you’re yearning for pleasure in this grotesque situation. You excuse it as wanting to get it over with quickly so you can go back to cowering in the corner.
Lloyd doesn’t seem to have the same mindset, though. One of his hands rests on your thigh, squeezing and massaging your delicious curves, but only ghosting over where you need his scalding touch the most.
You don’t remember when he slipped his hand under your shirt, but he plucks one of your nipples and you gasp at the added stimulation. He pinches and teases the sensitive nubs with his rough fingers and you try not to think about the slight stickiness of them. You try not to think about the blood on his hands tainting your skin.
“Open your eyes, princess, I told you I don’t want you to miss the show.” Lloyd squeezes your now stinging nipple tight and you let out a strangled groan. His chest rumbles when your tight cunt clenches around his aching dick.
When you force your eyes open you immediately regret it. Tod, the guard, presses one of the electrified jumper cables to Wilson’s cheek and the man writhes in his seat, straining against his restraints. Tod has a twisted, delighted look on his face, similar to the one Lloyd always sports but less controlled.
With his henchman now doling out the punishments, Lloyd begins the same line of questioning as before. For every unsatisfactory answer Wilson gives, he gets a shock from Tod’s jumper cables, each strike leaving a slight burn in its wake.
All while Lloyd presses you to his cock, his arm thrown around your waist to keep your hips from bucking up. Even worse, with every blistering shock and cry for mercy, Lloyd’s dick twitches inside of you. You always knew Lloyd was a sick bastard, but you can’t believe the sadist is getting off on watching the brutal action playing out before you.
You feel sick. You want to hate him, you want to scratch his eyes out, pry his heavy hands from your body and crawl off his lap. But you’re too weak–both in body and spirit. Lloyd has broken you so many times that the notion of refusal, of fighting, is a fleeting fantasy. All you can do is watch the gruesome interrogation, helpless to the trauma unfolding in front of your eyes. And still, even while witnessing the awful torture, you’re coming undone by Lloyd’s relentless ministrations.
He has you right on the edge of pleasure, but the ache of his fat cock splitting you open is keeping you from your release. It’s all you can do to keep from begging for some kind of friction against your swollen bundle of nerves, not that you’d put it past Lloyd to demand you do just that.
Tod presses an electrified jumper cable to Wilson’s neck for a moment longer than the other shocks and he screams and thrashes like never before. The cries dwindle into weeping pleads for mercy as the electricity bleeds out of his system.
Lloyd can’t hold back his groan, “Fuck, princess, this is almost too much.” His hips snap up and you yell out his name. “That’s it,” he grumbles against your ear, loud enough for everyone to hear. “Take daddy’s fat cock. Look at you, a hungry little cock-slut getting off in front of all these people. Have you no shame, princess?”
His hips start rolling into you with a steady rhythm and it’s your turn to plead for mercy as he tears your pussy apart. He drops his hand to your cunt and you wail when he finally touches your needy clit.
You shake as he rubs small circles around the sensitive nub while he taunts you with more cruel words, “I had no idea you were such a dirty slut. This was supposed to be your punishment, princess. Your punishment for making me this hard in front of my men. In front of Mr. Wilson here. It’s downright unprofessional. Though I’m sure Wilson wishes his punishment was this–” he pinches your throbbing clit and you squeal, arching your back like a cat in heat–“pleasurable. Maybe if he had been more cooperative I would have been more inclined to share.”
Your breath hitches at what Lloyd is insinuating, disbelieving his words, but knowing deep down he would have no qualms passing you around if it helped him win. Because that’s all this is to him; a game that he loves to play. A game he must win at all cost, no matter who he has to hurt or manipulate or torture. There are no lines that can’t be crossed in Lloyd Hansen’s twisted playing field.
Lloyd breathes in your scent, “Hmmm…Well, maybe if Tod can get the info out, I’ll let him have a go as a reward for a job well done. There’s no amount of cock a cum-slut like you can refuse, right princess?” Your sounds of protest morph into moans of insatiable pleasure as he picks up the pace of his thrusts and applies more pressure to your clit.
You don’t miss the way Tod licks his lips as he looks at your plump pussy getting pounded by his boss. He adjusts himself before getting back to work with renewed vigor. You shiver, trepidation flooding your psyche. Goosebumps rise on your flesh.
Lloyd must have seen the lust-filled look in Tod’s eyes too because he growls deep in his throat and holds your hips in a vice-like grip. He starts bouncing you up and down on his swollen cock, stuffing your dripping cunt to the brim over and over again, your juices soaking his pristine white pants.
Every time his cock-head slides against your g-spot you see stars, barely able to make out Tod and the weeping Mr. Wilson. There’s no way you can control the salacious sounds spilling past your lips, you can’t think straight as Lloyd absolutely wreaks you.
Your breasts jiggle as he bounces you up and down. Other parts of you jiggle too, but Lloyd doesn’t care. He loves the feel of your generous curves pressed against the hard plains of his body, the force you can take as he drives his cock into you. But most of all, he loves how he can turn you into a cock-dumb, drooling mess. The wanton sounds he’s pulling from you right now are the reason he’s kept you by his side for so long–and why he’ll never let you go. You’re his perfect, pliable princess, and he will keep you locked in a tower if it means you’ll never escape his hold.
Your trembling walls squeeze tight around Lloyd’s dick when he slaps your clit, the sharp sensation shooting up your spine and unintelligible curses tumble from your chapped lips. You chant his name like a prayer when he lifts up your left leg, his powerful bicep curled under your knee. Over and over, he hits the spot inside of you that has you seeing stars as his cock slams up into you.
He orders Tod to shock Wilson when he denies him the information he’s seeking yet again. Lloyd growls in your ear as he cums at the exact same time the jumper cable meets flesh.
The feeling of his thick, hot cum shooting into you pushes you over the deep end. White hot flames spark through your veins. You convulse, your walls fluttering around Lloyd’s leaking dick as your entire body seizes up from your intense orgasm. You’re a jumble of cum and slurred speech as you come down from your lofty high. Your chest heaves as you try to reign air back into your lungs.
Lloyd bites your shoulder and you shudder at the sting of his teeth marking you as his. He laps at the wound, pleased with his handiwork. “So fucking perfect,” he mutters, more to himself than to you. Even though your stomach still has butterflies, you try to pull away from his muscular form–but you can barely wiggle your fingers, much less climb off of him.
Turns out, you don’t have to worry about that. Lloyd stills your movements with large hands placed on your waist, pressing you all the way back down onto his cock. It’s somehow hardening again, the stretch taking over your blown-out senses once more.
You groan, shifting uncomfortably in his lap, but Lloyd shushes you, “Uh-uh-uh, princess. You’re staying right here. Gotta keep daddy’s cock nice and warm while we wait for Mr. Wilson to cough up the answers we need. Besides, it’ll help your tight little cunt get acclimated to being wrapped around daddy’s cock while he works because you’re gonna need to get used to it.” He cups your jaw and forces your head forward.
You can’t even bring yourself to react to his foreboding declaration. All you can do is sit there with his insatiable cock filling your tender pussy and struggle to hold in your shameful moans. Lloyd clearly isn’t stopping until Wilson gives up the intel-or worse-either way, you’re going to be filled up with his pulsating length for the foreseeable future. Just like he wants.
“Tod, up the voltage.”
#lloyd hansen#dark lloyd hansen#dark!lloyd hansen#soft!dark!lloyd hansen#lloyd hansen smut#dark fic#lloyd hansen x reader#soft!dark! lloyd hansen x reader#dark!lloyd hansen x reader#lloyd hansen x plus size reader#plus size reader#plus size reader insert#plus size reader smut#dark lloyd hansen x plus size reader#lloyd hansen x plussize!reader#soft!dark!lloyd hansen x plus size reader#hostage reader#18+#dark smut#noncon/dubcon#Chris Evans#chris evans x plus size reader#chris evans character fanfic#the gray man#the gray man fanfic#the gray man netflix#My writing#mine#me#rubynationwins
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Hey how would skull react to being hugged? Like just out of the blue by Mc?
Same for the other skellie boys of this prison au
I’m assuming you mean prisoner Mc, but I’d be happy to do this again with nurse Mc if folks are curious!
Sans: He gets a thrill from it. It’s a display of total trust from her, the way she nuzzles into him, it’s the clearest signal possible that his attempts to weed his way into her heart are working. The idea that he's a source of comfort for her... it makes him feel powerful. It makes him feel needed. He likes that.
And, on a more personal level for him, it’s also been quite a long time since he actually hugged anyone. He’s never been one for overt displays of affection and since getting into prison, he actually became rather touch-averse, utilising contact solely for manipulation and building false friendships.
But... her...? Her head against his shoulder, her hands on his back, the softness and warmth all pressed so close...? It’s the first time in many years he’s genuinely put aside the lies and just enjoyed a moment of connection.
Red: It catches him dangerously off-guard. Red and Sans are more similar than they’d admit, both have closed off their softer sides and only use physical contact for its power- though in Red’s case it’s a little more on the nose than Sans’ underhanded brokering. Red beat his way to the top of the prison food chain, and a bit of fun every now and then keeps him sane, but that’s the extent of what he’ll touch. He’d never get genuinely emotional.
... That’s why a hug from her staggers him so much. When her arms go around his barrel chest and her little head presses against his clavicle, he responds before he knows what he’s doing, reciprocating and literally feeling the tough-guy foundations he’s spent decades building up being shaken like a house of cards.
He tries to play it off with a quip about enjoying having her “pressed real close” because it “gives him ideas”. He just hopes the lecherous remarks mean she doesn’t notice how fast, and loudly, his Soul is beating.
Skull: She'd probably give him a hug when he's overwhelmed. Sometimes the noise, the smells, the intensity of the open prison after years trapped in solitary... it all gets too much. Not to mention the feeling of the mask and gloves restricting him, squeezing him like a vice, impossible to claw off, spiralling his panic and crushing feelings. Even when bound he's still a serious danger if he freaks out. He covets and reciprocates any affection she gives so instinctively and totally that he loses focus on everything else. Including, luckily, his panic.
Out of the blue hugs are a dream come true for him. Only issue is how difficult it is to get him off once he's latched- but he's getting better. The more she hugs him, the more he learns that she's not going to leave him forever if he lets her go. Besides... he can tell that sometimes, despite her ineffectual wiggling, she actually quite enjoys being in his arms. There's nowhere safer in the entire world.
#llamagines#prisoner mc au#prison au#she also doesnt have to worry about anything when skull has her#the guards know shes the only thing preventing a total meltdown#so she can kinda do what she likes
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i absolutely love your writing! may i request for hanzo x reader where its a slowburn, how they confess their feelings:>
𝔹𝕝𝕖𝕖𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕃𝕠𝕧𝕖
Words: 1113
Blackwatch wasn’t an ideal organization to be in but it had everything paid, so you couldn’t complain, more likely wouldn’t since you could complain about almost anything.
So you weren’t surprised when it was finally shut down, only the fact it was kept going for all these years. But hey, you have plenty of extra money saved up. It really opened your eyes to plenty of risks.
The day you left you promised yourself, don’t work with anyone. Especially previous blackwatch members, they were terrible. As the years passed you kept your promise, turning down plenty of people who asked for various reasons. Not that you cared.
But you knew one day your connections would come back, after all you didn’t seal the ends. Only it was a seemingly improved Overwatch finding you, cornering you after a long chase.
You knew most of the team, only a few stood out. They had sent Mercy, Kiriko, Mei and Winston, with one more person you were unaware of. Unable to get a good look as he stayed back, seemingly aware of your intent.
“Y/N, we have an offer for you.”
“Really? I would’ve thought it was for someone else.” Your joke fell flat, but laughing wasn’t your intention.
“Listen, we have all the evidence to put you in jail, or you can help us.”
“Why would I want to help you?” She sighed as if she knew you would be difficult.
“One, you stay out of jail and two we have some people you might want to see again.”
Again? There weren't many people you wanted to see again, not from your past. But again it would surely be better than whatever you’ve been doing.
“Sure, I guess.” As soon as you answered an arm was thrown around your shoulder.
“We were warned how stubborn you were!” Who told them?
***
Genji.
It was Genji who told them. How did you know? Well a certain cowboy had been informed, then coming to bother you with that information.
“Seems like we’re a lot more similar than I thought.”
“Sounds like a nightmare.”
“Blunt as ever Y/N.” Even with the years apart neither of your humour changed one bit. But Genji’s did, a lot changed that you were quick to notice.
“Just have to lose your arm then you’ll almost be siblings, maybe twins even.”
“C’mon now Genji,” Cassidy tried to steer the conversation another direction, unaware of the pair of spying eyes.
The eyes belonged to the butt of his joke, his brother Hanzo. He was unsure about anyone, much more with new recruits. But knowing you had history with Blackwatch and his brother? He never wanted to speak to you.
But it seemed his dragons didn’t hold the same sentiment. As a few days later he couldn’t find them, calling for them didn’t work. So he had to go hunting. Gaining a lead when he saw their tails disappearing around a corner, swiftly yet silently following.
Only to find a more than upsetting sight. They were floating around you before leaning down to eat something from your hand. Catching sight of a third, green dragon hanging around your neck.
Instead he only watched, not interrupting. As much as he disliked you there was a high level of respect, not only did you befriend his brother in some of the toughest years in his life, only to return and act like nothing changed.
But you gained the respect and attention of his dragons. Who didn’t show any to anyone other than him, even then it was limited. Maybe you weren’t as bad as he thought you would be, just don’t expect him to be all buddy buddy right now.
***
It was meant to be quick, in then out before anyone knew it. But apparently the plan wasn’t kept under wraps, as the enemies found out.
And they hatched their own plan, and it was instant. The attack caused everyone to back away, intending to regroup after fighting them off. Except for you, as they changed their mind at the last second.
Two of them fought you, then they followed the plan. Blocking you off from your team so with no other choice you rushed the other way, right into their trap.
Which no one realized until later, having regrouped but missing you. They couldn’t go far so their search was limited. Also causing Hanzo to panic, even if no one saw it.
With his mind unfocused his dragons took the chance to float away, they knew where you were. Not sure how or why but they just did, ending up finding a horrible sight.
Laying in the foetal position was you, blood surrounded your body. Their missing presence, the unknown feeling of dread has him rushing after them, finding you.
He’s seen this story once and it didn’t end well. He wasn’t going to let it happen again.
“Stay awake.” His voice pulled you into reality once again, being in his arms kept you from slipping under. “I can not let you go, not now.”
“Hmm?” You heard the words but their meaning didn’t reach you. And he seemed to notice, likely hoping he could say his feelings and you would forget. It was best for him.
“スターライト, you’ve managed to burn through my walls, melting them as you burrowed deeper. I won’t let you burn out.”
His sentence was finished by pulling you closer to leave a gentle, almost unfeelable kiss on your forehead. Picking up his pace when he noticed your eyes shutting, the many voices drowned out by sudden silence.
***
Everything felt wrong. Any exposed skin was too fold, except your neck. Which was sweltering, your collar soaking up all the sweat.
What really caught your attention was the weight on your stomach. When you tried to look down it shifted, revealing itself to be a person. Specifically Hanzo.
He had seemingly fallen asleep while waiting for you to wait up, ending up laying on your stomach. Meanwhile his dragons had shrunk down to become a makeshift scarf. Moving when you did.
At some point you moved too much, waking them. And in turn Hanzo, who shot up when he realized.
His mouth moved but nothing came out, his eyes searching through yours. Going still before launching forwards, pulling you into his arms.
“I… apologise for not arriving sooner,” Leaning away but never letting your hands go, “And for that I will treat you to a dinner of your choice.”
“Well I accept your apology,” Releasing a deep breath he seemed to be holding. “I’ll inform you of my choice.” A small smile formed on his face, not bothering to hide it.
***
スターライト - Starlight
#overwatch x reader#overwatch x male reader#overwatch hanzo#overwatch hanzo x reader#hanzo x reader#wisteria♥
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What do you think would happen if Tails Sails Mangey and Nine all interacted with each other?
See, I was thinking about this all week. Mainly due to my theory, and just the pure nature of Tails’ the Fox. His character remotely resembles a child; in both psychological, and emotional aspects. While he is physically a child, his brain and maturity level is not. Its far exceeds the average intellect and ability to comprehend. Making Tails’ far more complex than most people realize. So, I’m basically going to explain how he would really only be on his wavelength. Literally all will but the communication will be tad different with each counterpart of Tails’.
Starting with Nine:
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Tails’:
To me, he’ll be the easiest communication-wise. I think the two Foxes’ would be wary of each other; mainly due to Nine’s hard drive on not being compatible with Tails’s personality and his viewpoint of the world. Nine wouldn’t really want to get into Tails’s character, or really understand his tinkering. While, he has similar habits, and thought-process, I honestly think his openness and willingness/over-friendliness would honestly frighten Nine.
Moving onto the actual interaction between the two. I honestly think Tails’ just be nervous, Nine’s got a pretty judgmental attitude and defensive personality. Making it very hard to really understand his thoughts, which Tails’ usually doesn’t have problems with. ‘Cause everyone in his head is statutory, but himself? With another version of himself? Oh, boy, where does he even begin? He’d be the first initiator, due to anxiety eating him up. “Um… so, you’re supposed to be a counterpart of me? Heh, well, you do look a lot like me—“ “Just stop talking.” Nine would quickly shut him down at first. Mainly due, to the frustration of Sonic forcing them to do this.
“Err… do you at least want something to eat?” Nine just slowly turns his head, and looks Tails’ deadbeat in the eyes. “Nah, I’m good with this bark of wood. Thanks for asking.” I think Nine has a sarcastic defense mechanism around others’, (Sonic’s circumstances are diffrent) especially over people who try to know him. Which is hard for anime, it’s extremely out of his comfort zone; he doesn’t like interactions. Knowing this, he’s especially reluctant towards Tails’.
I think Tails’ will catch onto this extremely quickly; and back off. For a couple of weeks, it’s awkward, and very difficult to really know how the two feel about each other. Nine does soften up once he starts to catch Tails’ mind explore and invent endless amount of things in his meantime. I think this is where Nine is the first initiator. To Nine’s surprise, they get along well, especially when it comes to analyzing; making Sonic pretty relieved. 
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Sails’:
Honestly, I would think they’d kinda ignore each other. Both well-aware and about how the other feels about each other, making it kinda hard for them to open up. Awkward, and tense when around each other. I’m talking about, a what if, this was all happening after the events of Prime. It’d still be this way, due to Nine’s lack of social awareness.
I still think Sails’ give Nine a chance. Like actively trying to hang out with him, ask him some small questions on how he invests or makes things. Small little interactions, at first, but I honestly don’t think they’ll become nearly as close as Nine and Tails’. Which isn’t much of a bummer, because Saul’s’ prefers other characters, like Amy, Tails’ himself, Sonic, and his captain, Dread.
They’d team up with each other, and fight alongside each other if they had to. They won’t be their first choice; but a reliable duo. They would trust each other with weapon-making, and temporary cooperations. Extra points, if they wink at each other to take initiatives, and smile about winning.
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Mangey:
The poor Foxes would never have a coherent conversation. Genuinely would not know how to interact with each other. Mangey is too savage and nervous to ever really properly calm down and actually sit with Nine. Nine’s too way and paranoid something bad is going to happen if they tried forcing him. The two are too mentally unstable to be able to handle each other’s emotions.
It’s like asking a baby to walk without falling. It’s a lot of trail and error. It’d take at least a month or two or them to even be on the same emotional wavelength. Mangey’s broken English and bad sense of social order makes Nine extremely uncomfortable. They try not to get angry or overwhelmed by each other; because they both understand that the other is trying. (Keeping in mind about the after events)
“M-me like y-ou.” “Huh… you’re improving. That’s excellent.” They will warm up with each other over communicating and improving speeches. Nine would basically become Mangey’s language arts teacher. Teaching him all the basics about talking, writing, and reading. Sonic will help by holding up pictures of simple things.
Next is Sails’:
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Tails’:
He’s by far, going to be the most mentally stable and simple out of the three counterparts. Easily, because he’s pretty much mostly like Tails’ himself. Making things communication-wise a whole lot less stressful for Tails’. The only downside is the pirate talk. Tails’ might hinder with the new communication system; making it slightly harder for him to properly respond. Which won’t be much a of a problem, as it quickly gets solved, because Tails’ easily adapts.
Also, I think Tails’ would find it super interesting and unique. Making them probably the fastest to become friends. They’re buddies, they’re improving each other’s inventions, making sure the other isn’t lost. They’re practically brothers. They’d both keep each other company and joke around a lot. Making Dread kinda annoyed, because most jokes are inside jokes about highly complex things.
They’d keep each other’s back covered, if they would ever get into a fight. They would never abandon each other, and make sure they’re both are safe. They’d boost each other up and uplift themselves. Alongside of double teaming with Sonic and Nine! They’re unbeatable. Tails’ would also dork out about his helper hand. Finding it effective and extremely cool. Tails’ now has one he can use! Occasionally, though.
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Mangey:
Honestly, same way as Tails’. It’d basically be like having a kid brother. Sails’ already took care on Mangey in season 3, but more normalized. Sails’ keeps Mangey out of trouble, and calms down his nerves. I would feel like Sails’ honestly follows Mangey around out of curiosity about his behaviorism. Constantly noting it, and the improvements, habits, etc.
Tails’ would definitely join in. Not making a habit of it, like Sails, would, though. It’s merely out of keeping him protected and innocent. As in, he’s never, ever, stepping foot inside Eggman’s factory or laboratory. Not unless it was extremely important, and Mangey’s friends were in danger. Also, it’d feel like belittlement after a while, and if Mangey showed enough attention-improvement, he could be sent on special missions.
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Nine:
I think he’d be pretty indifferent about Sails’. Like Tails’. Like I said, it’d take a large while for them to warm up with each other. It’s not they actually don’t like each other; but they’re a tad suspicious of each other. Both tensed, awkward socially distant foxes. Nice combo… but Sonic turned things around telling them both to just take it slow.
They’re the slowest and subtler find than all of the other three. They just don’t notice each other, and it’s not a bad thing; but they have less appeal towards each other. They will work together, and share mostly the same opinions; and make sure that the other is okay, but that’s all.
Next is Mangey:
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Tails’:
Tails’ would give him a lot of snacks. Plus, a bunch of stolen Chili Dogs from Sonic. The two would be usually spotted eating and going over simplistic ways to teach Mangey real communication with Nine. Both Nine and Tails’ would take turns with Mangey helping his improvement of social and personal development.
Sails’ helps with the emotional department, making sure he doesn’t get too overwhelmed. Tails’ acts like character for Mangey to see scenarios of conversations and situations. I feel like Mangey is a visual learner, so it’s ultimately easier for him to comprehend after seeing what happens. That also includes spying on others’, but mainly Sonic, and their friends.
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Nine:
He would leave Mangey alone at first. Kinda steering clear, because he doesn’t really like unwanted attention or company. Knowing Mangey would give so much of that, he tries to keep off of his track, and kinda cower away. Not to be offensive; but because he’s not entirely used to having friends.
Not until he decided to give him the opportunity to grow. Once Mangey starts to show signs of large improvement of social skills, emotional maturity and development, Nine doesn’t entirely mind when he’s around. Since, by this point, Mangey sees Nine as a bigger brother.
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Sails’:
He would voluntarily help Nine and Tails’ out making improvements with Mangey’s abilities and growth. Especially with the language and emotional support. Making sure that Mangey doesn’t get too overwhelmed by anything; he’ll also be the supplier of treats.
He would also help Nine come up with a series of quizzes for Mangey. Making sure all of the studying is actually sticking with him. Nine would create the question, Sails’ would make the answer. Tails’ help out giving small hints, and Mangey would get a treat if he doesn’t need any hints. He would get a whole snack, if he gets a 100 for the quiz.
Next is Tails’:
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Nine:
The two would be awkward at first, but the more they found in common about each other’s habits, they became more comfortable around each other. I think Nine would be emotionally tired, and deprived of any sort of intimacy with love; and Tails’ deeply understood this. Instead of Sonic being Nine’s only friend and well, savior, Tails’ basically became his newest friend.
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Mangey:
As I have said this over and over again, (lmao) Nine would advise, commit to Mangey’s growth. Finding some joy out of seeing his counterpart grow, and improving. It makes him feel like he means something more rather than something of nothing. Tails’ sorta feels the same way; and it makes them more comfortable and less anxious around Mangey. Mainly due to the wavy their shatter verses are; it’s hard for all four of them to collectively get along at the same time.
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Sails’:
They would love each other. From intelligence to little quirks about certain things. Tails’ would indefinitely make little gadgets for all four; but mainly Sails’. They would have the most in common with each other. They’re little collaborations with each other to make each other’s lives in their own verses easier. Especially for Nine. Like, face-timing each other, occasionally, send each other a bunch of letters.
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I’ll whiff up headcanons later over them. They’re such a cute couple of interactions; but I wouldn’t mind adding some angst to it next time. Those will most likely appear in a few headcanons. Thanks for this question; it was really fun writing this out, especially individually! (I love making myself suffer)
This is them.
#writing#headcanon#sonic the hedgehog#character analysis#one shot#sonic prime#tails the fox#miles tails prower#mangey tails#mangey the fox#sails the fox#sails tails#sonic nine#sonic au#nine sonic prime
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I just realized that I forgot to mention what I meant about fully preparedness for my character polls such as Jak and Rayman. After seven fucking polls is when my dumbass realizes the flaw. Welp here's the post rectifying said mistake with everyone's favorite limbless hero, Rayman, for the example.
This loveable dorky Thingamajig right here.
Now Rayman has been on a lot of adventures and every one introduced something new to his skillset. The series stapled Lums particularly ones like Red or Purple. Rayman 3 with its combat fatigues/power up transformations. Adventures granting the Incrediball companions who can help find things, gather particular stuff similar to magnets or grant powerful protection. Origins/Legends introducing various cartoony abilities from travel through paintings to running on walls. His latest appearance being a powered up Plungergun/Blaster and the Sparks.
These are some of the things that can come with Rayman for wherever he ends up. Other stuff include food provisions, water, and any essentials often taken on long journeys. Now I'll be using Transformers Prime as an example for this mainly because I want to drive these particular bots nuts but also Rayman not having a good time with sentient machines if you look at Rayman 2.
Where and when does our limbless hero pop up? How about the battle that would've been Cliffjumper's last stand i.e the first episode? Yup. Right in the thick of it as I want to paint a big fat target on Ray's back for both sides.
Before anyone fusses, this Thingamajig fought bigger and dangerous enemies but still came out on top. It isn't his first rodeo especially with killer machines. Where was I? Oh right, him dispatching Vehicons alongside Cliff.
Both are able to take down their Decepticon opponents just before Team Prime shows up. With his good deed done, Rayman decides to dip as he rather not experience any war flashbacks to the Razorbeard debacle from his second adventure. Optimus tries to convince the Thingamajig that he'll be under their protection but nope.
Rayman flees by using Ethering to turn invisible. Although he accidentally leaves one of his paintings behind in the process. The Autobots retrieve the item with hope it can lead them back to their friend's savior. It's quite clear that Rayman isn't from Earth and could be a target to the Decepticons.
A notion later proven true once Soundwave retrieves the footage from the fallen Vehicons. Upon seeing the feed, Megatron orders his Decepticons to capture Rayman should the opportunity present itself. This strange creature could prove helpful to their cause.
Now Rayman is essentially on the run from the beginning. Whenever he can, the Thingamajig would set up shelter and rest up. Most of the time Rayman camps out in the woods. There's enough natural cover and places to hide.
A task that becomes more difficult since one encounter with Soundwave left him stranded in Jasper, Nevada. Yup. He still gets entangled in both factions' conflict as the poor guy is so lost. Why is he here? Does it have something to do with these giant robots?
Both aren't good at providing info as Rayman constantly has to dodge servos(hands for Cybertronians) through almost every encounter. Except for Cliffjumper since he has an inkling the limbless hero wouldn't like that. Moreso after the incident I'll call 'Catch the Thingamajig'. One limbless hero popping up in a warzone between a four v. four battle.
Decepticons: Starscream, Soundwave, Breakdown and Knockout
Autobots: Optimus, Bumblebee, Bulkhead and Arcee
You guys ever seen an intense football 🏈 specifically on the Super Bowl level? That's how I describe this particular incident with poor Rayman being the ball. Some examples. He gets grabbed by Arcee only for Soundwave to tackle her. Bumblebee attempts capture but Rayman ducks just in time!
The Thingamajig goes to glide away only to get snatched up by Starscream. Seeker tries to flee through via groundbridge however Bulkhead knocks him off kilter! Rayman switches to the Shock Rocket to garner some distance from both factions. It buys him a few seconds only for his cover to get blown by Breakdown!
The Decepticon nabs Rayman and attempts to pass him over to Knockout but Optimus intercepts! Starscream goes for the steal however the Thingamajig has had enough. Rayman frees himself via Screech then forces everyone to scatter with Pyrogeddon.
The only thing Autobots haven't tried to reach the Thingamajig is Cliffjumper. Rayman did save the bot and no one knows how he'll react towards the kids. (We missed out on guardian Cliffjumper. Yes, Rayman marked as his ward upon capture.)
Meanwhile the Decepticons would have to be more sneaky in their approach. The Thingamajig is craftier and stronger than they thought. Maybe a certain Predacon obsessed scientist could help with the endeavor.
It's gonna take some time and well planning if anyone wants to reach Rayman. Meanwhile the Thingamajig is gonna do his best to survive this huge clusterfuck of a fiasco. Hopefully he'll be able to go home and get a much needed nap.
#sonicasura#maccadam#transformers#transformers series#transformers prime#tfp#cliffjumper#tfp cliffjumper#cliffjumper lives#rayman#rayman series#rayman 2#rayman 3#rayman origins#rayman adventures#rayman legends#mario + rabbids#mario rabbids rayman#look i miss rayman#crack#crack treated seriously#back on my bullshit
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https://www.tumblr.com/jiminsass-istant/740934106304626688/bye-bye-old-bts?source=share
There’s a lot of assumptions here I don’t agree with. The west is embracing new jeans and they haven’t had physical promo like bts did. The reason why bts is not getting really embraced by the gp is cos the music they promote to the west is generic meaningless boy band music which is very unrelatable. And authenticity is a big thing in the west. If they gave Mots7 or any of their albums before that the level of promo dynamite or butter had, they would have gotten more of the gp appreciation.
Hybe is not just only promoting jk, but they were also hampering other members promo. Look at how lackadaisical they were with shipping jh, Jin & RM albums. How poorly they scheduled Face, the many issues we faced during Face era that jk never experienced. We had to tag them for basic things that a label should already know about. How they shaded jm in their own article and are several times refusing to acknowledge his no1.
It goes beyond promoting one member and more into trying to stifle the rest to present an image the label has the power to make a pop star. And is probably also why they give this promo to songs the label premade and not the artist’s authentic music that the artists makes
Thanks for the ask, anon. I'll share my thoughts to your ask in parts: (and sorry for the long essay in advance, kindly read, i swear i get to a point lol)
Western GP (New Jeans vs BTS): Can I be very very honest? New Jeans music is extremely catchy and has that hyperpop element that western audiences eat up. With rise of artists like PinkPantheress, hyperpop is gaining even more popularity, and Y2K aesthetic is back. NewJeans are all that- the music and aesthetic both. I'm not sure what were their digital promo methods, but perhaps playlisting on streaming platforms? And the collab with Apple was very strategic too. Let's also not forget they have english chorus in their songs and went viral on tiktok. New Jeans are in top 5 kpop groups in tiktok. I cannot speak for NewJeans much, because I have only listened to their songs, and do not follow them.
Let's talk about OT7 songs promoted in the US first- as in Dynamite, Butter and PTD. Let's take Dynamite - a very well crafted product, basically a completely American song with American references and MJ inspired choreo. It was meant to catch western attention and did its job. But the problem was- it was a single, not an album and it didn't really showcase the range of their artistry. Yet it did the job of exponentially increasing the fanbase. It was pandemic time, people were in their rooms, with internet and Youtube. Those who were meant to find BTs, found them.
Could BTS have achieved long lasting attention with MOTS 7 promotion? Honestly, it's hard to say. BTS's music is not conventional. You will never hear a BTS song and think- 'oh! i've heard something similar', in fact, sometimes it is even difficult to comprehend what genre their songs are. A different language, a different genre, 7 different voices, with no two albums that sound similar, no viral tiktok songs. Do you know how difficult it is to crack the western market? It is a lot of information to feed. I will come back to the MOTS 7 issue later.
How does one build a fanbase for a band like BTS?
BTS's popularity and long lasting fanbase has always been formed by the story they sell. Bang PD, right from the start, wanted to show the world 7 authentic, real boys who wanted to share their original thoughts, happiness, feelings and struggles. Added to this, their underdog story. Yes, their struggles from older days are all real and valid, but knowing that story makes you relate to them. Because, aren't we all some type of underdog before we achieve something big? People have often been drawn to BTS via word of mouth, friends, 'i just wanted to know their names' and ending up watching the Taylor Guide, 'my wife took me to their concert and now all my friends love BTS', 'they taught me how to love myself' etc etc. BTS has always inducted fans who were searching for something in their lives, or are curious, or are 'willing to learn'. You cannot sit an American down and show them a BTS US interview and ask them to listen to the album and make them a forever fan. Do you know how people in the west don't watch an international film just because they refuse to read subtitles? The language barrier might be easy for armies to overlook because we are invested, but it's not easy to convince a monolingual westerner to start reading subtitles to get into an entirely different fandom.
To sum up my points above:
BTS sell their story and relatability and group dynamics, which is not possible just through basic promotion. One has to dive into BTS voluntarily and go through the plethora of content, one by one.
BTS songs are usually not tiktok viral for some reason, considering how big of an act they are. Barely any bts tracks have gone viral- BST remix, black swan instrumental (maybe), PTD dance challenge to name a few. I don't know the reason why because I have barely ever used tiktok. Because armies only interact with each other on that app and even then, they don't use bts songs as audio.
The pre-requisite is to be backed by a western label for radio, playlist, western ads etc. Because the US won't allow an outsider label to make money off their GP, simple. It just takes away the money that could have stayed with western labels.
Coming to individual member (JK) promoted in the US: I did mention in the post of mine you have linked- that Golden lacked depth. Quoting my own words directly - " While they paid attention to heavy promo, charts and playlisting for Golden, they failed to create a connection with the music- which seems highly non-personal and lacking in depth and has a non-interesting concept. The promo did do the work of making jk a common name, showcasing his talents and introducing him to the industry. But for a lasting impact, they have to create better stories with the music. Idc, army are acting too defensive when people are disappointed that he didn't write his songs. It's okay to not write, but the very least singers can do is connect to song meanings and relate to personal experiences during the promos."
And anon, you are right, to have a lasting impression in the west, one needs authenticity. Actually let me list down the non-compromisable parameters required for success in the US-
Affiliation to US based label/Connection to industry mammoths. (Give money to US/US based part of the company)
English song/ lots of english lyrics + recognizable genre
Character/ brand of the artist (which the audience calls 'authenticity', but is actually the 'brand' of the artist created by the label. People hear the artist's name and know what to expect. You hear Olivia Rodrigo and you know you will get teenage, angsty, heartbreak tracks.)
Last but not the least- tiktok push. (somehow extremely essential today)
Hybe gave JK 1,2 and 4 from above list. They tried to build up on his character, but it is incomplete and lacks depth. The character they have built for him is- Korean hearthrob who can sing and dance, inspired by Michael Jackson, the ONE member to look out from the massive band BTS (Justin Timberlake trajectory). They gave him catchy songs directed at het women, dressed him up in clothes fitting that image and made him perform live at TSX. Thanks to the massive ads and promo, people know him now. But unless he shows the true depth of his character and brand to the GP, a lot of people (non-army) won't look forward to his future works. And whether we like it or not, him not being being able to interact freely and share his thoughts in english in the interviews is still a drawback for him. (personally, i wish that was not true).
Even when some celebrities of colour get the limelight in US pop culture, it's because they are connected to the US. They emerge as this messiah for their 3rd world country, can speak english and work for US labels and production companies. The US gets to keep the money and awards, and also gets to flaunt 'diversity'. It has always worked like that when the west opened the doors for a POC.
MOTS 7 would not get GP acceptance without being backed by a US label. And would a US label ever accept a full Korean album with all Korean artists? Why would they invest in an artist of a foreign language? Can Bang PD's assistant call up US radio and get them to play Dionysus? No. But if Scooter does it, they will pay attention.
An English speaking artist can convey their feelings through words on a radio, but how will a Korean artist do that on the radio with no subtitles, to an audience who refuses to read subs in the first place? You know how the US GP reacted when Parasite movie won an Oscar, right?
Ever since 2017, BTS have tried for that hot 100, did everything they could, backed by their Korean company, tons of US interviews and what not. But at the end of the day, they had to compromise with meaning and depth and churn out an all english, MJ inspired, disco pop track which finally gave them their #1. I am not downplaying the significance of Dynamite, or saying that it's a bad song. But I simply mean that only a marked shift in genre and strategy gave them that #1.
Anon's words: "Hybe is not just only promoting jk, but they were also hampering other members promo."
You are absolutely right. The only properly done solo work was that of Yoongi I feel. He knows his priorities and influence on the company, and has always had a very strong connection to both inside and outside the company. I'm not sure if D-Day was mismanaged, though am sure some yoongi biased army will have things to point out. All the other members have faced mismanagement. Jimin the most, I feel. Even recently, there's a Weverse article where they wrote that "jhope led the contemporary dance with Jimin", in spring day. All respect to Jhope where he deserves because he is the dance leader indeed, but he did not lead the contemporary dance in spring day, as amazing as he is, respectfully.
Anon's words: "It goes beyond promoting one member and more into trying to stifle the rest to present an image the label has the power to make a pop star."
I felt the same thing. I share the same sentiment with you here. The way they downplayed Like Crazy's achievements was disappointing and hurtful. That day it became crystal clear to me that Bighit did NOT see that achievement coming. None of the member's releases was meant to make this much noise, not before their Scooter backed project. They grossly underestimated the extent army can go even for 1 member (arguably the 2 most popular members in US are Jimin and Jungkook). Honestly the type of promotions JK got would never be given to other members because the other members would NOT agree to singing english songs that have zero depth and zero connection to their own feelings. JK was willing to take up that offer because.. well it's his choice. It was a golden platter, why not take it up? His image is moldable, he can sing whatever he is given and has the talent to pull it off. No matter whom we bias, JK has been the center of almost all BTS songs, a non-replaceable voice. But at the end of the day, the reason he was the one member who Bighit wanted to stand-out from the group was, it was his consent and agreement to everything the company planned for him.
I do wonder what it would have been like if all members received that kind of promo with their own artistry. But the entire premise of them being backed by Scooter/US collapses because they refuse to sing songs written by Scooter's writers. So I also agree with anon when they said "And is probably also why they give this promo to songs the label premade and not the artist’s authentic music that the artists makes."
Instead, Hybe is focusing on the other kpop groups under them. It's like the 6 members were just given their own individual management teams to manage their solo works lol. At least, let's be glad that the 6 members are getting full creative freedom for their work. I just want their solo works to be better managed. And I hope their managers, and planners, especially those on Jimin's side have learnt their lesson and come up with a foolproof promo for their next projects. I don't expect anything from BangPD, that man has been showing a certain pattern I don't want to discuss. (solely because i refuse to think what goes on in his mind).
As fans, all we can do is support the solo works we feel connected to and support BTS as a whole in future OT7 projects.
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What if during the Gabe and Micheal fight V1 was serveraly injured by Michael?
Like the fight originally wasn't Gabe vs. Michael but it was Micheal vs. V1
After all the shits that's happened in hell and the fall of his brother, he wants to avenge his brothers memory by killing the thing that made him fall.
In this action he's thinking "gabe is gonna hate me for this but he needs it"
Granted V1 could totally beat Michaels ass he probably just caught him off guard and when he was low on blood.
michael likely would give v1 a pretty good fight - i tend to think that gabriel is an equal match for it with many of their sparring sessions being his win, i just like to think that v1 is particularly troublesome when one has no experience as it learns EXTREMELY quickly (beat it in a minute or it'll never happen!!) and it has an instant blood-healing mechanism. in that sense, michael would equal it as well as he's pretty similar in strength and skill to gabriel, BUT he's got a couple advantages that help level the playing field despite this being a first encounter, chief among them how he engages it with little warning already enraged. complicating this is the fact that michael is naturally very adept at harnessing his wrath as an advantage in battle rather than a detriment, so i think enraging sends him into a radiant state...which isn't a great set-up for a machine that's likely just rooting around for some soul orbs.
thankfully for v1, it's extremely difficult to actually catch it fully off-guard - it's learning about michael from the first move he makes, knowing he's a supreme angel like gabe but instantly scrapping much of its data to start from a clean slate. because he doesn't fight like gabriel. gabriel has a serene elegance to his fighting style, a grace in his movements that treats battle like a dance, and he LOVES to talk (being god's messenger puts a lot of words in his mouth). michael is a sharp contrast to that, entirely silent as he moves in vicious, staccato movements that reek of a brutal efficiency and a single desire to end the battle. whereas gabriel delights in the fight itself, michael is clearly only concerned about the victory. v1 can appreciate it for its distinct, cutting brutality, but it becomes an increasing issue that michael is an entirely foreign combatant with a very unique strategy - every so often, he seems to entirely change his fighting style. v1 knows there are always patterns, idiosyncrasies that betray an individual, but michael's are incredibly difficult to pin down in the limited time it knows it has. and so he continually resets its learning, frustrating its ai in a way that's paradoxically thrilling for it, but it knows now isn't the time. it decides to follow mike's lead instead, attempting to end the battle as soon as it can, but another problem arises that finally trips its alarms - michael's blood doesn't seem to work very well. it does repair it in some capacity, but it's about half as effective as it should be, similar in many respects to the old blood that runs in rivers through hell. put all that together, and v1 could easily make a mistake that turns disastrous.
michael knows he's doing a terrible thing to gabriel, but he would do anything in service to his brothers, and he would fully believe that playing the villain now is necessary. to him this is sickness, perversion, to love an object that michael believes has no sentience and certainly has no soul, marks the full degradation of gabriel. again, it is his fault. gabriel's faith had always wavered, and being worked to death by a heretical council has completely decayed his morals, with v1 the object of that fall. there is something selfish in michael, a part of him knowing he does this because if he eliminates this idol, perhaps gabriel could repent. maybe he can use purgatory to heal him, to save him, to pull a fallen angel back from the depths of treachery and restore him to his former glory. it's an abominable thought, he knows it's wrong, but if he can gather gabriel back into the fold, back to heaven and to himself, maybe his life lingering on like this still has value. it pushes him ever forward in battle against a machine far more capable than he would have thought, but god tempered him to fight anything in hell, in merciless pursuit that burned through his own divine fire. his strength is similar to that of gabriel's, but it has been honed for a singular purpose.
v1 knows when a fight is lost, michael has learned much the way it does (cheater!!) and he sees what it protects, he begins quickly to tear into its exposed blood ports (bullshit prototype). v1 is forced to be defensive, something it's much less adept at, but again michael sees just how it curls in on itself - while he likely gets nails driven right into his face for it, he grabs hold and rips open its chest plate. v1's very mind. it screeches at him so loudly it's actually disorienting, but there is nothing it can do with damaged insulation even as the blast of absolute zero instantly freezes michael's dead hands. the temperature is immediately too high, the particles kept in stasis suddenly moving at unimaginable speed and instantly destroying v1's ability to move, to think, to exist. a split second of its hud flashing garbled nonsense in dire warning before it all cuts offline, but by then gabriel's virtues have fetched him, begging him to come help. and a fallen angel at full strength, now blindingly enraged, isn't going to go well for a michael that's just struggled against the scourge of hell, especially when the fight would need to be much more delicate considering he's done all of this to save gabriel. but he can't understand. not now. but gabe doesn't really give two shits when mike simply vanishes, because he's not the priority and in fact would just be a waste of time.
because v1 is bled out on the floor, its body torn open with its computer exposed as its refrigerator desperately blasts out frigid air on emergency power. without thinking, gabriel takes what's left of his wings, ripping out his tortured feathers in shocks of agony that should render him motionless, and packs them inside v1's computer in delicate urgency. deathly cold, burning his own hypothermic body but just right for v1's needs, before he's done enough and can quickly switch to clawing up his own arms for the blood it now needs. it's all quick fixes, enough to hopefully keep it sustained until he can get it somewhere safe and he can revive it. because it's still intact enough and he knows it can live (v2 proved how surprisingly hardy they can be) but BOY if this wouldn't piss him off to an extreme extent with michael. like gabriel would know, in a calm mind detached from his personal feelings, that michael was doing what he thought right...but what does that matter when he's so willing to hurt the undeserving (like the ferryman) or those he loves? tbh between something like this and the ferryman, if mike returned too soon afterward they could get into a fight they both REALLY regret.
#I'VE WANTED TO USE GABE STUFFING HIS FEATHERS INTO V1'S COMPUTER FOR SO LONG.....#they are the world's coldest but lightest ice pack....perfect for quantum computers ;o;#BUT YEA mike would likely attempt this if he wanted gabriel taken to purgatory#like he DOES want revenge on v1 but i think he needs to square it in his mind as something not so selfish#so it's about saving gabriel. that maybe he's not too late#besides he doesn't see v1 as alive and like. that thing IS legitimately a problem. right.#cake answers#v1#michael#fallen gabriel
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@hotmothsummer tumblr continues to hate your main : ( but I got u
28.Teaching the other something new (I decided hey I just posted them flying around, why not Donnie teaching Jase how to do that)
“This is absolutely the worst idea you've ever had, Donnie.”
“Nonsense, you and I both know I’ve had far worse.”
Jason wanted to argue with that as he stared down at the street below. Why did they have to do this from such a tall building to start? He was going to be sick.
“Come on, it’ll be easy.” Donnie smiled at him as his hover shell opened up and he practically walked through the air to stand in front of him. “You’ve already made yourself hover during training.”
“Yeah. Hover. Not fly!” Jason gestured at the grey, night sky above them. “There is no guarantee I can stay attached to my dragon for that long. Or whatever it is that does it.”
“If you fall I will be right here to catch you.”
Jason tried to glare at him, as if he wasn’t buying it, but Donnie only gave him a soft smile in return.
“This is so stupid.” He let out a shaky breath.
“Jase, you flew with this thing when you first got it.”
“You think I remember how I did that?” Sometimes he tried to forget that whole ordeal. He’d been scared out of his mind. When he first got ninpo, when he first summoned this dragon, he acted without really thinking about anything other than the fact he had to save Donnie. He had to save him no matter what.
Since then, the Hamatos had been doing everything they could to help him figure out how it works. By now he could reliably summon it, he could control it, but having the thing lift him into the air? Far more difficult.
He looked down at how far the street was again. “You couldn’t have picked a shorter building?”
Donnie shrugged. “A shorter fall means I have less time to catch you. Come on, summon it and at least try to float up. Then we can focus on moving outward.”
Jason let out a tired sigh. He wasn’t winning this argument it seemed. Even if he could just head back to the stairs and walk away, he really did need to get more in the habit of facing his fears.
He took a few deep breaths, feeling the mystic energy center in his chest before it moved outward. The dragon, like a creature made of light, twirled into the air and grew and grew until it towered behind Jase.
He lined his back up with its chest, feeling the energy sink into his skin. Bit by bit his feet left the ground.
His anxiety spiked. The dragon’s grip on him faltered, but it thankfully didn’t drop him.
“Yes, perfect.” Donnie shook his hands a few times before moving up to float at eye level. “Feel the lack of gravity? The freedom of it?”
“Freedom is not how I would describe this.” Jason focused on keeping his breathing steady.
“I’m sure it’ll feel better if you move around.” Donnie flew backwards, doing a twirl as he did. A faint trail was left behind by the propellers on his shell. “Come on, try to reach me.”
Jason took one more deep breath. Moving the dragon did become second nature recently. Raph taught him how, since the creature was so similar to the turtle’s projections. Think of it as an extension of yourself.
So he stepped forward, feeling it linger at his back. It definitely didn’t feel like he stepped onto anything solid, but he didn’t fall either.
He did, however, make the foolish mistake of glancing down. Seeing his legs over the open air made his heart stop.
“Jase.” Donnie snapped his fingers. “Just look at me.”
His gaze snapped back up, trying to focus on Donnie. Focus on how the light from his dragon faintly reflected on his scales.
His boyfriend held out his hand. Jason reached for it as he kept steadily moving forward, but he could feel the presence on his back slipping away. Deep breaths. Just a bit closer.
His fingers brushed against Donatello’s and then gravity ripped him free from his dragon’s grasp.
Jason screamed the moment he fell. He tried to not panic, to pull his dragon back, but seeing the street getting closer and closer made it impossible to do so.
Then arms wrapped around his middle and he jerked to a stop. The air flew out of his lungs and his glasses even slipped off his face. His hand shot out to catch them before they got very far.
He put them back on, ready to turn and look at Donnie, but the turtle tossed him into the air again. Jason shouted as he flipped over, now landing on his back.
Donnie smiled at him. “Told you I’d catch you. Also, maybe we should take your glasses off for this.”
“I have spares. You know this.” Jason rolled his eyes. He used the snarky comeback to pretend he wasn’t shaking. “Are lessons done for the day? Can we go home?”
“Don’t give up so easily. Try and summon your dragon again.”
Jason gave a tired sigh and let his head drop against Donnie’s shoulder. “I don’t think this is going to work.”
“You only tried once.”
“Donnie.” He hardened his tone. “I am stressed, freaked out, and feel like I’m about to throw up.”
“I don’t get it. You let me fly you around all the time.”
“Because you know what you’re doing. I trust you. I don’t trust myself, not yet.” He crossed his arms, practically pouting in his boyfriend’s arms. At least being this close helped slow his heart down.
“Then let’s try a different approach.” Donnie had to shatter that peace by jostling Jason once again, turning him upright. His arms wrapped around his chest.
Jason wanted to flail about in protest, but decided against that when they were still so high up. “Donnie, what are you doing?”
“We’re going to fly. Hold your arms out.”
“No, that’s stupid.”
“Put a hand out then, I don’t care. Just focus on the sensation, okay? Close your eyes if it helps.”
“Donnie can we just—”
No arguing about this either it seems. Donatello took off, rocketing straight up before twirling around.
Jason didn’t feel that frightened. Donnie had flown him around in so many different ways before. Holding him upright, sideways, and three times upside down due to catching him wrong. It took some getting used to at first, but at this point his boyfriend could plummet them both towards the ground and Jase wouldn’t even flinch.
He still thought this was stupid, but the air rushing through his hair and past his face lulled those thoughts away. He watched the city lights rush past them, then caught a brief glimpse of the sky as Donnie flew into a loop.
“Come on,” Donnie shouted over the roaring wind. “At least have your dragon fly with us.”
Jason sighed but once again gave in. He summoned the creature once more, letting it weave through the sky next to them. He thought way too much about what the people in the city would think about it if they saw it. Hopefully they’d assume it’s some kind of drone trick and not ask too many questions.
Jason shut his eyes. Might as well try to practice seeing through his dragon’s eyes instead while Donnie kept flying them around. Just how long did he plan to do this anyway?
Shifting his vision was something he still barely got the hang of. Even if he managed to access it, it came out so blurry. He hoped he didn’t need to give his dragon glasses too.
Even with the blurriness, he caught the flash of purple. Then it shot across the sky again.
“See?” Donnie’s laughter sounded farther away than it should. “You’re a natural at this.”
Jason opened his eyes.
Donnie flew in front of him now, just underneath the head of the dragon.
Jason stopped flying in an instant. His dragon did as well. His breath caught in his throat as he felt the weightlessness around him. He hadn’t even noticed when Donnie let go of him. Once again his dragon held him in the air instead, and this time it felt far sturdier.
“Stop overthinking it.” Donnie flew around him in a few circles. “Your dragon is an extension of yourself, yes? Just the image of both of you flying should do the trick.”
Jason crossed his arms, his dragon mimicking the motion. “You’re one to lecture me about overthinking.”
Donnie shrugged and flew higher. “Now try to catch me if you can, hm?”
Jason watched his boyfriend take off at such a speed, the only way to track him was by the trail of light he left behind.
So he narrowed his eyes, took one more deep breath, and flew after him.
Funny how normal it suddenly felt. Just as easy as letting Donnie glide him around in the sky. His gaze followed the softshell as he zipped through the air. His dragon would follow along his trail, like being pulled by an invisible string. Bit by bit Jason was catching up. He had the dragon open its jaws, trying to grab hold of Donnie, but the turtle would twist to the side to avoid it.
Jason found himself laughing as they both spiraled upwards, spinning around each other like a strand on DNA.
Finally within range, Jason’s dragon reached out with its claws and grabbed Donnie right out of the air.
“Hah.” Jason tried to shout, but took a moment to catch his breath from all the exhilaration and the laughter. “I won this round, Von Ryan.”
Jason brought his boyfriend closer, and Donnie stayed rigid as a poll, gently pressed between the dragon’s massive paws. His eyes were wide, was he frightened? No, with the way his mouth slightly hung open it was more like he was in awe.
Jason still worked on catching his breath. “What?”
“Ah, nothing.” The faintest of smiles crossed his face as he kept on staring. “Just looking at you. Backlit with all that purple light, your hair wild from the wind, and smiling so wide you can’t help but laugh.”
Heat rushed to his cheeks. His dragon immediately let go of Donnie who fell for a second before catching himself and hovering back up, though he still floated lower than Jason did.
“W-whatever.” Jason stuttered. “Are we done for the day now or—”
Donnie obviously wasn’t as he reached up, hands brushing against Jason’s cheeks. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?”
Jason grabbed his wrists and tugged them away. “Ugh, Donnie, I told you to quit saying that.”
Despite saying this, his dragon immediately betrayed him. The beast leaned its head down to brush its whiskers against Donnie’s cheek, then gently nuzzled his face.
The softshell laughed, scratching it under the chin. “Well, I think someone appreciates the compliment more than he cares to admit.”
“S-shut up.” Jason grumbled. “And you, knock that off.” He pointed at the dragon which didn’t listen to him in the slightest. It wrapped its neck around Donnie, tugging him closer. The entire time a low rumble hummed through the air. “Ugh, if I wasn’t flying above the city right now you’d be gone in an instant.”
“Well, maybe you should be the one hugging me instead.” Donnie smirked.
Jason rolled his eyes, but reached out to grab hold of Donnie’s face. His dragon finally let go in the process.
“I am not that pretty.” He insisted.
Donnie just kept on smiling, the lids of his eyes slowly falling. “Oh great deity of the sky, what a privilege it is to even be in your presence.”
“Okay, now you’re getting way too corny with it.”
Donnie laughed and Jason chose to cut it off with a kiss.
Huh, smooching his boyfriend while steadily floating above him felt kinda nice.
Maybe they could spend a few more minutes up here.
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Terzo x GN Reader
A Nightly Escort
. . .
A lil drabble before bed!
. . .
TW: Mentions of a panic attack. (💥)
It's late.
And you're lost.
Inside the endless ministry halls.
Alone. Great.
It was well past midnight, and the halls of the Abbey were freezing. It was the middle of winter after all, what did you expect? The candle in your hand was dangerously close to burning out, threatening you with darkness. You cursed underneath your breath, why did you have to be out so late at night? Why couldn't you have just stayed in your room?
You had come to the ministry only a few days prior, looking for shelter and work. To your surprise, the Clergy took you in with welcoming arms. You'd been hired as a janitor, a jack-of-all-trades kind of position. The position paid well, and you were given food, shelter, and insurance. What more could you ask for?
It would have been nice, however, if you could make some friends. The sisters wouldn't give you the time of day, the Papas were constantly busy, and the ghouls were, well... ghouls. The only one who talked to you in this damn place was Sister Imperitor, and even then it was only to give you an assignment. So needless to say you were lonely.
If you had some friends, maybe you could have asked one to walk you to the bathroom at 2 A.M. and avoided getting as hopelessly lost as you are now.
💥 The halls were closing in on you as you crept down the hallway. You struggled to breathe, and it was getting more difficult to focus. Was your bedroom this way? Or that way? Damn. You could feel your heartbeat getting more rapid now, and hear the blood gushing in your ears. "Shit," you thought, "I don't belong here." 💥
You stopped for a moment, too overwhelmed to continue. What were you going to do? You couldn't possibly navigate these halls on your own; there were so many! You supposed you could wait until someone happened to be this way, but that wouldn't happen for hours. You would just have to keep going.
Finally, you came across a hallway that looked similar to yours. However, this one was different, more official looking. "This must be the Papas' bedrooms." You thought.
It was even colder now, and you shivered. Your heart was still racing as you crept down the hallway. Tears came to the corners of your eyes as you tried to keep them at bay, with little success. This hallway scared you.
Finally, your candle died its pathetic little death, much to your disappointment. "Shit, no!" You cried, louder than you intended to. How would you find your way back now?
You heard a cough come from behind you. This startled you, and you dropped the candle- or what was left of it- on the floor. Wax spilled from the small saucer onto the floor.
"Oh dear- did I scare you?"
You turned around and nearly jumped out of your skin- it was Terzo, dressed in his nightly wear and holding a candle.
"I- I'm sorry, Papa, I didn't meant to, truly-" the tears started to pool in your eyes now, but you couldn't wipe them away while your hands were occupied trying to clean up the mess you had made.
"Shh, it's okay, we'll deal with it in the morning. Now tell me child, why are you awake at this hour?"
"I'm sorry," you tried to catch your breath, "I'm new here and I really had to pee and now I'm lost and the candle- oh, I'm so sorry. I just, I'm trying to find my bedroom."
"Ah." He stepped closer to you, bending down to your level on the floor. "I can guide you back, if you'd have me."
"Please."
"Gladly." He offered his hand and helped you stand up, then linked elbows with you. "I'm assuming you are staying in the Sister wing, si? Not with the ghouls?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then let us go." He began to lead you through the halls. "So. Why did you come out here all alone if you did not know where to go?"
"I didn't want to bother the Sisters. They have so much on their plate already."
"Truly? Because it seems as though you don't talk to them much anyway."
Shit. "I'm not a very talkative person."
"Is that it?"
"Yes, Papa."
"Terzo."
"Hmm?"
"Call me Terzo. I am 'off the clock,' as Copia says."
"Of course, Terzo."
You continued walking in silence for a moment. You were beginning to feel sleepy again, now that the panic had worn off. You knew that you were safe now.
You took your free hand and rubbed your palm into your eye, trying to wipe away some of the drowsiness. This action was interrupted by a yawn, to which Terzo seemed to take notice.
"Eh, it sure is late, no?"
You giggled. "It is."
You bumped into his side by mistake. It didn't help that you were very uncoordinated, which was only worsened by the sleepy feeling that overtook you.
"It seems as though this current arrangement is not working."
"Sorry?"
He stopped at a small table in the hallway and set down his candle before blowing it out.
"Don't we need that to see?" You asked.
"You need that to see. I do not."
"But papa- er, Terzo- I am confused."
"Shh." He released his arm from yours, and spun around you, knocking you off balance. He took this opportunity to catch you, now holding you in a bridal carry. "There we go."
You were lucky it was dark in the hallway, or else Terzo would have seen the blush on your face. Accepting your fate, you let out another yawn and wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your head on his shoulder.
He murmured into your ear, "now, off to bed with you, child."
#ghost band x reader#ghost band#papa terzo#terzo emeritus#cuddles#ghost band cuddles#tw: panic attack#tw panic attack#panic attack mention#drabbles
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Ch 11: Forest Grinding
Credits to @midnightdancingsol for helping with the editting
After travelling about one hour from the town of Shoshinsha, you arrived at the entrance of the forest which, according to Irene, contained some monsters that provided more experience without being too difficult. You drew both your swords and took point as you both entered the forest.
You looked around the area. It was filled with trees, most were non-flowering but there were occasionally ones that had fruits on them. Besides the trees, there were also boulders, most of which had moss on them of various degrees. You were expecting the forest to be quiet but you heard the sounds of humans and fighting coming deeper from the forest.
You walked cautiously, not sure of what to expect when you suddenly felt your footstep on something humped. As you pull your leg back, a meter-long centipede reared up getting ready to strike. It charged toward you with its pincer but luckily you managed to react in time and used your pair of swords to intercept its charge stopping its momentum. You struggled as it tried to force its pincers down now that you were stuck in the middle. You racked your brain for a solution and tried to lower your body below arm level.
The monster noticed this but it was still being held back by your swords. Suddenly, it separates its pincers again causing you to lose your footing due to the sudden change in pressure as it tries to lunge at you again but this time, you got lucky as you tripped backwards narrowly avoiding the monster as it went above you. You quickly used this opportunity to get your footing and while it had its back turned towards you, charged towards it and got a good hit on its carapace with your right sword.
As it recoiled in pain, you used your two swords to simultaneously slice at the carapace again but this time, you sliced deep enough to see some of its innards. It tries to roll away in pain but your left sword was stuck in the flesh and as it rolled away, the sword was pushed deeper into the monster's internal organs after two rolls, the giant centipede laid motionless on its back and you heard an announcement in your head: experience point earned
You relaxed and walked over to the monster still trying to catch your breath from the earlier scuffle when you noticed Irene approach you. She took out her handkerchief and wiped the sweat off your forehead before offering you the canteen she was carrying.
“Looks like you are still not used to combat though that monster is stronger than the ones we fought earlier. Also, my yeobo probably needs to get fitter. You can’t be panting this hard after every battle.“ She said teasingly before giving you a peck on the cheek.
You smiled at Irene and when you turned back to the monster, you saw it breaking into dust leaving your sword lying on the ground. You picked it up before bringing out your HUD to check out your stats. You concluded that you had gained approximately five percent experience just from defeating one monster—two more of these things should be enough for both of you to achieve your next levels. You glanced around looking for more when you were tackled to the ground by Irene. You looked up to see a big red hercules beetle flying above you before landing a few meters away from you on its hind legs. It puts up its arms in a punching stance and punches the air a few times as if to show its strength.
“Damn, this looks familiar.” You chuckled
You raised your swords again. The beetle glares at you, seeing you as a threat as you took your stance and charged at you attempting to hit you with a right hook. You try to block it, similar to how you did it earlier with the centipede with your two blades, but this time you did not expect its speedy reaction when it used its horn to hit you square in the face and followed it up with a sharp right hook that made you stagger back. You shook off the dizziness and looked at the beetle again. Prepared this time, when it tried to jab at you again, you ducked and gave it a low sweep and made it fall on its back. As expected, its shell made it hard for it to get back up and so you started striking it with your sword over and over again as it struggled and flailed, managing to land occasional jabs on you, but eventually, your assault managed to overcome the beetle and make it collapse. You heard a ring in your head but you ignored it and stretched your hand out to collect your materials.
“Wow, that came out of nowhere.”
You chuckled as you wiped yourself trying to play it cool when you felt Irene hugging you tightly from behind.
“Pabo! That was risky! What if you died? Then I won’t be able to see you for a week!”
“I’m sorry, I’m still not used to this. I’ll be more careful, alright?”
You pet Irene on the head to comfort her. She nods slowly and summons a bottle that she then offers to you. You glanced at your UI again and noticed you were at ten percent health-that was close. You drank down the liquid and your health went back up to fifty percent. While you rested you checked the stats for both of you and saw that you and Irene had jumped to levels ten and twenty, respectively.
Guess this beetle thing was a miniboss and gave you tons of experience.
You pondered for a moment and then selected your name. A new window appears containing a list of classes. You scrolled down the list and located the Blacksmith class and selected it. Instantly your clothes changed into overalls and gloves with a pair of goggles on your forehead.
Irene looks on in surprise. “Wait, oppa... Why didn’t you level me up first so that I could check the—”
You placed a finger on her lips. “I trust your feelings for me otherwise you wouldn’t have ended up in this world for me. I believe that you care for me enough to meet the requirements to become a weapon spirit”
You clicked Irene’s name on your screen and located scrolled for a while before you found the Weapon Spirit class. You clicked on the option and you received a prompt- Special class selected. Requirements for this class are met. Would you like to proceed?
You selected yes and Irene began to shine brightly and when the light finally dissipated, Irene was dressed in an elegant black cocktail dress. While you were caught up in staring at Irene, a bright light engulfs you and you had to close your eyes. When you opened your eyes again you looked down and see that your outfit was now a black leather jacket with a red inner shirt and white pants. You see an achievement pop up: “Unique skill: Living Forge” achieved.
“You look pretty suave, oppa. “ Irene says as she approaches you.
“You don’t look so bad yourself Irene.” She blushes slightly as you read through the descriptions of your new skills. You also noticed under Irene’s name, there was another name written: “Kirin no Ikazuchi”. As you said this name, the body you were hugging disappeared and in its place a short dagger with a body of a horse as the hilt and the blade the horn of the horse engraved with a lightning bolt.
“Irene? Is this you?” It seemed stupid to be talking to a dagger at first, but you heard Irene’s voice in your head: “I guess so. I think this is one of the abilities of a Weapon Spirit. From my understanding though, I am unbreakable and can grant you different abilities.”
You nodded as you stared at the immaculate blade and muttered Irene out loud, and suddenly returned in your arms. “I guess there is a lot more we need to learn now, huh,” you said sheepishly as Irene giggled. “Don’t worry, I have it all in here. I’ll guide you,” she says as she points to her forehead. You could only pet her head before you received a message.
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dumb question but how do you do those color studies for fictional characters (like the one you did for the dr2 cast)? i can do color/light/shading studies when i have a reference but when i try to make them up from imagination my brain has trouble checking whether the shadows and colors are accurate. any books/videos youd recommend?
there are no dumb questions when it comes to art!! its hard to figure things out on ur own :D
honestly its difficult to describe how i do them because for me its a very self-indulgent "turn my brain off and put colours wherever until it feels right" type of activity. but i will put my general advice under a cut because i talk a lot about drawing
my main advice would be to keep doing what ur doing, studies will always be more useful than anything else. for me i see the most improvement when i just chill out and observe things irl even if im not drawing them. i genuinely just stare at things and think about their colours, no need to do anything more than observe.
im the worlds #1 art tutorial hater so i don't have any cool youtube recommendations or anything but The Practice and Science Of Drawing by Harold Speed is public domain and is very good for just bringing ur brain back to the fundamentals of how drawing works if you haven't read it before.
in practical advice, my drawings improved hugely once i started paying attention to values. its easy to check this when doing digital art by having a layer thats just a flat midtone grey with the layer style set to saturation. i constantly turn that layer on/off whenever im drawing to make sure im happy with the amount of contrast between dark and light, and also to see whether im happy with the shapes of the highlights and shadows in my drawings.
to me making sure the values are correct is much more important than anything else. its always possible to go in and change the hue or saturation of a colour to make the drawing more cohesive, but much more difficult to correct the values if you've placed a bunch of colours in the same mid value range.
while im doing studies or just drawing in general i also save swatches of colours that ive used that i think look good (not sure if this is a feature on all drawing applications but i think it is in most major ones like photoshop, procreate). you can probably see similarities in colours that i use throughout the things ive posted because if i feel like i don't know where to start, i often start by placing colours that ive used before and then modifying them to whatever i want. its also fine to look at real things when you're drawing fictional characters, i'll often just take breaks to look at a bunch of photos or videos or even just go outside to refresh my brain on how things look.
last and most important thing ever is that sometimes ur colours will just look like shit. i have made so many bad drawings in my life with muddy colours and poorly done lighting but i just keep going until i make something that i like 💪 i think for me the most important thing ive ever done is just let go of the expectation for my drawings to be good. sometimes they are just complete garbage but to me thats an indicator that im doing something outside of my current skill level, which is exactly what leads to improvement. so i wouldn't worry if it feels like your brain is having trouble working through certain things at the moment, it just means your practical skills are in the process of catching up to your observational skills
#i hope i dont sound like an asshole or pretentious or anything sorry if i do#i just unload all of the things i wish someone had told me earlier whenever someone asks for advice
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@distant-wcrlds | Send me ‘Shipping and Handling’ for romance advice regarding my muse(s)! [ ACCEPTING ]
Shipping and Handling for Winnie, Jon, and Bro'Dee?
[ adding in the Misters Dent from your other ask :^) ]
While Edwin tries to not be that shallow, he truly does grow bored and even frustrated in dealing with people that aren't on the same intellectual level as him. Ego aside, his brilliance really is a curse sometimes, having been one reason he was alienated at various points in his life. So someone that not only isn't intimidated by his smarts, but can also understand him in full nerd-talk (or at least can ask the right questions to understand) is definitely going to catch his attention.
Edwin is case in point for the saying "the quickest way to a man's heart is through his stomach-" alongside books and small machinery, good food is one of his biggest passions. However, he himself is a disaster in the kitchen, so a man that can cook and/or bake is extra attractive to him.
This could be called a non-answer, but Edwin is a sucker for romance. All the cheesy, tooth-rotting classics; flowers, picnic dates, even things simple as opening and holding doors for him. It makes him feel special, of course, but moreso it plays into his longstanding fantasy of a fantastical courting, like something out of a fairytale.
It's absolutely a common theme of most muses here, but patience is so extremely important for Jon. He's an incredibly difficult man that already both distrusts people and doesn't think himself worthy of love. Proving him wrong, refusing to let him chase you off will at the very least (eventually) make him second guess not believing you about loving him. But keep in mind it will take longer still before he actually lets you in.
Check on him, force him to put whatever he's working on down and take care of himself. It doesn't matter how close you are, he will bitch and moan, hem and haw about it as long as he feels necessary- but ultimately, he does appreciate it. Especially if you make it clear you aren't interrupting him for your own personal needs- besides him not working himself to death.
Do not try to force him to do anywhere or do anything- but invite him to accompany you on outings or to keep you company on errands, even if it's something he obviously can't agree to for whatever reason. As silly as it is- and he absolutely scolds himself for it- he's genuinely touched whenever someone expresses an honest desire for his company. (Although, again, it will take time before he believes that it's honest.)
Bro'Dee is an absolute sap, especially when he's in a romantic relationship. Tell him you love him, even for no other reason just to say it, and he'll be in awe every single time. He'll return it as well, of course, it just might take a second or two for his brain to let go of you saying it and catch up.
Presents are a large part of a traditional Astonian romance- but nothing expensive or even necessarily grand. In yet another bizarre similarity to Earth, gifting someone a particular species of flower was customary in asking them to become one's partner. It was also typical for couples consisting of at least one walker (the traveling holy profession Bro'Dee had before Astonia was destroyed, hence the surname) to trade small trinkets at a journey's beginning and when they were reunited at its conclusion. Sometimes these were handcrafted trinkets, other times they were interesting small pieces of nature discovered and kept as a surprise.
The reverse of Edwin, Bro'Dee simply adores cooking for people. This one is also kind of a cop-out because one doesn't necessarily need to be romantically involved with him for Bro'Dee to get fulfillment out of it, but they certainly aren't excluded.
It goes without saying, but one treating Harv just the same as they treat Harvey matters immensely. Even just being friendly with Harv- they share a body and head, so it's nice to be able to agree on at least one thing. Especially if that's a person one of them cares about.
Though it gets downplayed a lot (and I admit the stylization of my icons doesn't help), their scars are extensive and horrific. Both understand being shocked when one discovers just how far the scars reach, but it still hurts after all this time when someone recoils every time they lay eyes on them. This doesn't mean you need to prove how unphased you are by them by touching all over their scarring- some places are completely dead nerve-endings wise, others are extra sensitive. Just learn to accept all them, and that the scars are part of that all.
On a related note, make sure they're taking care of themselves. Both of the Dents are gifted in self negligence, and while Harv is decent at remembering- he can’t remind Harvey to moisturize their wounds if he's just as fixated on something.
#They're Listening... : asks#distant wcrlds#Offered Insight : headcanons#Epistemophiliac : Bookworm#Miasma of Fear : Scarecrow#Blue Moon : Saint Walker#Ianus Bifrons : Two-Face
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Isaac and his siblings
I haven't quite decided exactly how many children were raised at the Facility, but there are five concrete ones at the moment.
The children aren't biologically related, but considering the circumstances, think of themselves as something of a family.
They'll be getting posts of their own eventually, but I'm gonna give somewhat short summaries here.
None of the siblings share a surname, but they all have the same initials of ID. It's a joke, because they needed some form of identification.
In no particular order, we have Ike, Iggy, Imani, Ivan, and Isaac.
Ike didn't live past his teens. He'd killed himself in his room at the age of 16, no longer able to cope with life as an experiment. Isaac used to consider him weak and a waste of effort, but after his own experiences with attempted suicide, he now considers Ike the brother he never got to know, and the most tragic victim of the Facility.
The next is Ignatius, or Iggy, as he prefers.
He and Isaac share a lot of similarities, to the point where they've considered they may have the same father.
Both of them are short. Isaac is 5'3, and Iggy is 5'4.
They both make highly animated facial expressions, and they're both adrenaline junkies. They're also prone to violence with poor impulse control, but Iggy is definitely worse than Isaac.
Iggy is a few months younger than Isaac, but you'd think it'd be years, with how Isaac looks after him. He fusses over Iggy and encourages him to make good choices, and he'll give anyone an earful if they talk poorly about his brother.
Isaac is a very impulsive person, but around Iggy he tends to display a lot more self control. He sort of feels like one of them has to be level headed, or they'll both probably die horribly. But he's absolutely not above joining in on some of Iggy's more violent or impulsive fun.
Iggy likes to call himself and Isaac The Beastie Boys and Isaac does Not get the reference.
Iggy's very big on music, which Isaac is kind of clueless to. He's one of those "I listen to everything :)" people and his favorite genre is the heaviest metal known to man. Isaac can't stand it, but he does like 80's hits, so that's what Iggy usually plays in the car.
Isaac thinks a lot about how differently things could have been if they'd reconnected earlier than in their 50's. He feels horribly for the mess Iggy got into.
Then we have Imani, the reason why Isaac says he's the smartest man on Earth, rather than the smartest person.
At the Facility, the two were often neck and neck with each other in regards to test scores. Some years Isaac would be on top, some years she would be. By the time they left, Isaac was considered the greatest success, but that's not really true.
He may prove smarter in the sheer amount of knowledge he holds, but she is by far more emotionally intelligent and grounded than he is.
Imani's the only one of the four defined siblings that was able to successfully integrate into society.
She's a college professor, and a mother of two, with very little interest in her brothers' misadventures.
She's relatively new, so I don't have much developed for her just yet, but I do know that she's integral to helping Isaac catch their fourth sibling, who became a serial killer.
That's when they reconnect for the first time since they were teenagers, and she tells Isaac and Iggy that she doesn't want to be a part of their world. Not them as people, but the cases they get into, and they have to respect that.
They do exchange letters, though. Isaac sends cards with too much money on the holidays, and Iggy sends toys. Just a little thing that helps them feel normal.
The fourth still living sibling is a man named Ivan, whose killing spree is currently Isaac's most difficult case yet.
At the facility, he was always considered third place behind Isaac and Imani, and that left its mark on him. He wanted prove he was the best and since Imani has (in his opinion) given up, Isaac is his primary target.
His murders were staged in a way to directly challenge Isaac to prove which of them was the most intelligent, with Ivan confident that Isaac would never catch him. Even if he did figure out his identity, he'd never be able to pin him down and arrest him.
If Isaac was the person he thought he was, though, that might have been true. He'd assumed that Isaac was as cold and detached from the world as him, but he's very much not. He proves as much by setting his ego aside and asking Iggy and Imani for help, outside factors that Ivan didn't count on.
It leads to a confrontation between the three brothers, ending with a bullet in Iggy's stomach and one going through Ivan's skull.
I haven't mentioned it just yet but Iggy is like, really good at fighting and he's got no qualms about killing people he feels deserve it, so it's necessary to handicap him for the climax of the story.
Iggy's on the ground bleeding out, so he can't really help. But what he does do is goad Ivan into trying to strangle him, giving Isaac the opportunity to kill Ivan.
After his death, Isaac kind of regards Ivan as another tragedy. He thinks his brother could have done great things and changed the world, if not for his ego and self importance. The whole ordeal causes Isaac to take another lesson in humility, and he's a bit more tolerable afterwards.
#off the record (ooc) ❌#That’s My Rap Sheet (about) 📄#very long post#also#suicide tw#ike doesn't have a photo bc he didn't make it to adulthood
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so i beat the main story of Teal Mask, and I decided to try something wildly different with my dlc team than i usually do
More under cut
I was told the levels would be somewhat similar to IoA- roughly level 60s, so I made a very rough decision to box a lot of mons I actually WANTED to take with me because they're just too over leveled.
So instead of using like 3 pokemon i've used from my main team, 2 transfers, and 1 new pokemon, I decided to use... well, 1 mon from a past team transferred in to get me started, 1 mon for that that actually stuck, and 1 mon from my base game that I never really used. And in the case of H Samurott, I mainly had him at the very beginning until i could catch a new water type- I have this thing about needing certain colors and types. The rest are mons I caught and raised entirely in Kitakami.
Gotta say, it was refreshingly difficult. I actually had to work to get them high enough level because- spoilers- it's actually not that easy in Kitakami, and it actually gets harder- like level 70 and higher bosses harder- like teams comprised of level 70+ pokemon. I probably COULD have brought some old Pokemon and still have had trouble, but I decided on this bit and I stuck with it for a pretty refreshing team.
So, with that said, my team:
Hisuian Typhlosion- Shogun. Actually, this is the one non Paldean Pokemon I ended up keeping on my final team, and ended up the highest level. I caught after my Legends Arceus playthrough, and he's actually the same one pictured here
he served as my "starter" for Kitakami and did an okay job at it. Not quite as powerful as I'd like, but I always wanted to get another chance to try using one- and I got it!
2. Yanmega, Racer- My first catch upon entering the region. Always wanted a Yanmega! It's a lot cooler than expected- a bit of a glass cannon, but fun nonetheless.
3. Poliwrath, Fesh Pince- I think I used one a long, long time ago as a kid, but that Poliwrath has been lost to time. This one is named after a Poliwrath I had a fan game playthrough I did, and that one is named after the Fesh Pince of Blair- a stupid but funny youtube poop of Fresh Prince. I often found myself saying "We've got to attack him" as I tossed him out. He pulled some decent weight and was crucial as a wall in catching Okidogi and Fezandipiti.
4. Morpeko, MorMarnie- Okay so... She sucks lol, but it literally attacked me out of the blue and I decided I like how cute it is- especially Hangry mode. It did have one or 2 good victories and moments, but it did lose a lot lol. But still, I like having at least 1 designated "buddy" pokemon on my team anyway.
5. Baxcalibur, Hollabax- This one was added after I wasn't feeling certain vibes from my team, and it fixed it right up. He didn't even have a nickname until a few minutes ago- I was planning originally to use it in my first SV run, but I got too attached to my Cetitan after it literally waddled up to me and let me catch it in one ball throw as a baby. Hollabax is strong though, gave me a bit of a needed boost when things started getting difficult- but its typing actually balances it out, because while it is strong, it gets taken out pretty easily. I like him though- initially i was going to go with a "japan" themed team, and he kinda ironically fits if we go with the idea he's godzilla.
6. Blood Moon Ursaring, Yoginator- The very same one from this pic
He's a big boy, quite literally the tallest Pokemon on my team at 8 feet tall. When I first fought it, it literally almost wiped my team- if it weren't for Scout the Furret getting in one last good hit, I'd have lost. THEN Yoginator replaced him, lol. He's a living example of "The boss when you fight him vs the boss when he joins the party," as he kinda kicked ass but not nearly as much as expected. Still, he's neat and I like him.
Reserves:
Furret, Scout- Scout was actually my Furret from 3DS Silver, and one of my current favs right now. Such a friend shaped Pokemon
She got me started for the first small bit of the main story, and landed the last hit to win against Blood Moon Ursaluna. Wasn't really as strong as I'd liked, but it was still nice to have an old friend with me.
2. H Samurott, Muramasa- my starter in Legends Arceus, and at most a very temporary body guard until I found Fesh Pince. He's strong and actually helped against some raids I found while I was there. I wish I could have used him tbh- I hope Indigo Disk keeps the trend of higher levels, because if so I might bring him there.
3. Dipplin, Dipper- Was part of the team for a bit, but it was around getting Morpeko I started feeling a vibe was off in my team. Normally I'd prioritize a new Pokemon over older ones, but in this case I decided that I needed a bit more fire power after it kept losing repeatedly. INTERESTINGLY, Apparently Dipplin can use Eviolite- that means it theoretically can EVOLVE- just not now. Maybe in pt 2, and maybe then I'll try again with it
4. Ogerpon, name pending- And the special boy. Such a cute fella, and I wanna spoil him a bunch. I added him to my team, replacing Morpeko so I could take on the stronger Oger gang trainers and generally just explore more stuff I might have missed. Have I mentioned he's a very good boy? I love him
Overall, this team was a challenge to raise on short notice, but it actually made the dlc a lot of fun and not just a spam A to win fest.
#pokemon#pokemon scarlet and violet#pokemon teal mask#pokemon scarlet and violet spoilers#pokemon teal mask spoilers#pokemon team#hisuian typhlosion#poliwrath#yanmega#morpeko#blood moon ursaluna#baxcalibur#kitakami
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Talk to us about Raum’s love for fabrics? Is there an expensive fabric popular with his clients (cheap and plastic textiles excluded) that he cannot stand? Does he have a favourite fabric to work with? Least favourite? What about patterns? How would his signature suit look like if he could use fabrics from any time period?
Since you both asked a similar question I'm going to throw both answers down here into one ask! Hope you don't mind.
Is there an expensive fabric popular with his clients (cheap and plastic textiles excluded) that he cannot stand? // @nezumivc103221
There is no particular fabric that he dislikes that much, if he can work with it. Usually it depends on context. Cashmere is one that comes up often, that can cause some headaches when people just want it because it seems fancy. The industry for cashmere is oversaturated, especially since fast fashion started to pick it up, and the overall quality of cashmere is starting decline as a result of over-production. He will always be sceptical when someone expects cashmere for a lower price point, because it usually means an inferior knit, and a contributor to the worsening situation surrounding it.
As for personally, he is not a big fan of linen — it’s a very wrinkly fabric, it’s suited to summer, light and bright colours, and he finds it hard to get behind that casual, sprezzatura aesthetic for himself. It usually doesn’t match his personal style.
Does he have a favourite fabric to work with? Least favourite?
The favourite to work with is wool. It’s a classic for a reason, and its very versatile because there are so many different types. His least favourite to work with is cotton (at least for a suit, shirts is fine, good even). Cotton is a stiffer, denser material. Garments are difficult to alter, require more dry cleaning and can fade unevenly, especially on a darker fabric. The end result is something that can be nice, if more casual, but it’s a minor pain to work with.
What about patterns?
For suits; prince of wales check, pinstripe/chalkstripe, herringbone, birdseye.
For shirts; broadcloth, twill, royal oxford, end-on-end.
Ties, just about anything goes as long as it will match.
What are the things Raum prefers in his suits? Cut of jacket, type of cuff, lapel, texture of fabric? //@royaletiquette
As for himself, its a bit more difficult to pin down. There isn’t one type of suit that Raum wears all the time, and he doesn’t actually wear a full suit daily, unless it’s necessary (eg, for work reasons). Especially depending on occasion, season, weather, etc things are changed. The most important factor is occasion — it would decide the level of formality, which basically decides everything else. There are some aspects he will generally lean toward, however.
For example, the cut he usually prefers is English (autumn, winter) or Milanese/Neapolitan (spring, summer). He prefers minimal drape, and is likely to go with double vents at the back, or no vents for a more formal style. He will pretty much always have darts at the front of the jacket which are more flattering to the waist and give a classic tapered look.
He will go for a surgeon cuff with three or four buttons, generally with the first button undone to show that they are functional — and it has the added effect of flashing a cufflink if those are worn.
As for lapel, daily, he’s most likely to wear a notch lapel rather than peak (peak lapel is rather flashy and his style is more conservative). Of course, shawl lapel is formal only, but honestly he loves that svelte look it gives.
Fabric, he will almost always go for fine worsted wool, it’s smooth, soft and a little stretchy, and it has a very slight shine when it catches the light.
#nezumivc103221#royaletiquette#ask#( ;corvinum )#( ;wardrobe )#long post cw#hehehehe. suits#me rubbing my little hands together like a gremlin while finally writing this
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Strays and the Hands that Feed Them by depressed-sock
Part Three ( 9,389 words )
Fandom: Star Wars: The Clone Wars (2008) - All Media Types, Star Wars - All Media Types
Relationships: CC-1010 | Fox & Darth Maul, Coruscant Guard Clone Troopers & Darth Maul
Bad Things Happen Bingo: Wiping the other's tears away
Mainly Feral, Savage, and Maul pov's this time around!
Tried to give everyone a different reason to be crying: anger, pain, mourning the loss of a relationship, relief.
...
Feral breathes in deeply, taking in the tainted air of Coruscant as he makes his way through some back alley on one of the lower levels. He didn’t catch the number that Thorn had typed into the elevator but Feral knows it’s farther than he’s been allowed to go before.
It’s such a different world compared to his small village on Dathormir that’s only ever been filled with other Nightbrothers. There are so many other kinds of people here, so many buildings that tower far above where the ground of the planet should be. It comes with dangers far different than what Feral could have ever imagined possible. Some of which are far easier to deal with than the beasts that roam his home’s swamps.
Some of which, that are more difficult because you don’t realize they’re a danger until it’s nearly too late.
Despite the sickly air and the varied people and the towering cities, when Feral breathes all he can feel is a heartbeat similar to Dathomir. That darkness that clings to his skin and melts into his bones. Feral hadn’t even noticed there was a darkness on Dathomir but Coruscant brings that fully to the front of his mind.
Because it is here but it’s weaker. Sometimes he can’t tell if he’s breathing easier because of that or suffocating from the lack of it.
Thorn bumps him, a soft shoulder-to-shoulder touch to ground Feral back into the moment. “Come on we’re almost there.”
“Are you sure this is the right way?” Feral huffs out an amused laugh. One thing he has learned in his time here is that Thorn likes… detours. Which Feral thinks actually means getting lost, even though Thorn claims he isn’t lost only ‘finding new possible routes’. Feral refuses to call him out on it because Thorn’s detours are a break Feral always sorely needs.
It helps keep his mind off of Savage who still refuses to meet Feral’s eyes or stay in a room longer than a few moments since Thorn started introducing them to the intricacies of Coruscant and its people.
Savage whose hand has left a ghost of an imprint on Feral’s throat.
The near-constant dull pain reminding Feral just how nearly his brother had come to crushing it while he’d been temporarily under the Nightsisters’ control. Feral has never blamed Savage for it but he thinks Savage must carry some blame considering the most he’s seen of his brother is when they’re both working together for Slick and Maul.
Maul who is a whole other problem Feral doesn’t know how to deal with.
The situation sparks something deep inside Feral. A dark pit of smoke fueled by the fire that burns in his thoughts. None of this is fair. None of this is right.
Thorn groans, stepping over something broken that had been tosed into the alleyway and just left there to rot. “I’m not lost!”
Feral blinks as he steps over it next, rushing his steps to keep even with Thorn. Trying to remember what he just said. Something about the right direction? He chuckles when the words finally register in his head, “You said that last time and we ended up two hours away from where we were supposed to meet your supposed contact.”
Thorn specifically pulls off his helmet, clipping it to his side, so he can make a face Feral, “That was the contact’s fault! Gave me bad directions and then didn’t even show up anyway.”
Feral just shakes his head with a grin, remembering Thorn getting sidetracked by baby tookas that had eventually led in a chase to get them all before they walked off a platform and into the air traffic. “I’m sure the tookas appreciated the bad directions at least. Even if they didn’t like being grabbed by their tails.”
Thorn had gotten scratched for that. There’s still a tiny hint of red marks along his jaw. Clearly healed but on the verge of becoming light scars.
“Says the tooka that got dropped in the Guard’s office,” Thorn mutters with an eye roll. Eventually giving in to the smile he’s trying so hard to fight when Feral laughs.
“Yes, as one of the newest members of team Stray Tooka, I can speak for my brothers and say we appreciate your efforts. Even when you fell into that puddle that made you smell terrible for a week after that.”
“I swear you’re supposed to be the nice one.”
“Am I not being nice?” Feral asks with a tilt of his head and a frown. Trying his best to hide his joy at the teasing.
“Making fun of me after everything I’ve taught you.” Thorn tsks with a shake of his head. He stops a moment, looking quickly around, before motioning Feral to follow him down a different alleyway.
“I’m sure learning how not to catch tooka’s will be very helpful to me one day,” Feral nods his head sagely, easily dodging the smack aimed at the back of his head.
“Alright, smartass. Let me teach you a new lesson it’s called: Thorn is always right and has never gotten lost.” Thorn holds out a hand and Feral grasps it as Thorn drags him into what Feral had thought was just an odd-looking building.
Instead, he’s greeted by a lush jungle of plants that have grown and overtaken the interior.
“What?” Feral blinks, taking in the area with surprise.
“Used to be a greenhouse the Jedi looked after. Mainly focused on growing food for the poorer levels.” Thorn shrugs, “Someone in the Senate threw a fit about it though, so the Jedi supposedly stopped caring for it, a little bit just before the war started.” Thorn walks in, fingers brushing over leaves, “No one bothered to get rid of it and I’m pretty sure a Jedi stops by every once in a while making sure the automatic system is still keeping everything alive. Or they do their Jedi magic on the plants, I’ve never seen them stick around long enough to ask.” Thorn shrugs again, reaching up into a tree and plucking a fruit.
He tosses it to Feral, “I know Zabrak’s diets are more meat based but you can enjoy fruits right?”
“Of course,” Feral studies the fruit in his hands, softly rolling it back and forth. His eyebrows pinch together, “There’s no contact here, is there?”
“Just us.” Thorn turns and moves deeper into the plants, Feral follows behind close enough that Thorn can easily drag him down onto a bench beside him. “Figured you could use some time away from everyone. Looked like they were starting to get on your nerves.”
Feral winces, “I didn’t think anyone noticed.” He’s usually better at hiding when he’s upset. Better at controlling the temper that wants to flare up just beneath his skin. He’s weak, he knows that now.
Too weak to protect his brother. Too weak to keep his emotions in check.
Too weak to fight the darkness growing in his veins with each second he breathes in the Coruscant air. He doesn’t understand why it’s worse than Dathomir when it’s so much weaker. On Dathomir it existed not just inside of him but beside him, around him. A part of him like it was apart of everything else. Here it sticks like something foreign. It clogs his lungs, burns his mind.
“It’s kind of hard to hide that from us,” Thorn leans back into the bench, “We have to be aware at all times of other people’s emotions because you never know when something that turns from quiet contemplation will turn into nearly beating you to death.”
Feral winces. He’s seen what others have done to the clones. He didn’t think there could be anyone worse than the Nightsisters but… well he’s not happy to be proven wrong. “I’m sorry.”
“It’s just our lot in life.” He reaches out gripping Feral’s shoulder. “We don’t think you’ll hurt us Feral we think you’ve been through some fucked up shit and haven’t had a chance to recover. Sometimes you’ve got to let those emotions run free and here the only thing you can break is a bunch of plants that’ll all grow back anyway.”
Feral lets out a shuddering breath. “It’s my fault.” He chokes on his words, “It’s my fault that Savage... I was too weak against the Nightsister, I joked about being able to keep up but I couldn’t.”
His hands clench the fruit, claws digging in, juice dripping down his fingers, thick like blood. “I hate them. Hate that they’ve done this to us. Changed us so that we can’t be the same anymore.” His fingers dig deeper crushing the fruit, he bares his teeth at it. “My brother can’t even look me in the eyes anymore. Because all he sees is when he held me by my throat and almost broke my neck.“ He tosses the fruit down. There’s an itch under his skin that forces him to stand and pace.
He mourns what has been lost. Of course, he does. But he’s angry too. Angry at himself for needing to be protected, angry at the Nightsisters for causing all of this, angry at Savage for avoiding him, he’s even angry at Maul who didn’t show up soon enough to save either of them from this.
Maul would say to use the anger, fester in it. Let it power him. But there’s no power here, just this feeling of overwhelming emotion that wants him to tear himself and everything around him apart.
It feels nothing like the darkness of Dathomir. Dathomir was always harsh, never kind but in a way that was just how life always is. The cycle of life, death, decay, then life again. It wasn’t despair, it wasn’t anger. It was just what it has always been, never pretending to be anything different.
It feels like the darkness that’s infected Coruscant. Sickly, infesting, overpowering everything that is him. Feral wonders if this is how Savage felt when the Nightsisters first changed him. Power forced into his veins, spreading like infection until what’s left behind is someone unrecognizable.
He misses his brother. Misses his village, misses everyone he cares about. Misses the children he would help care for. And all of that just makes him angrier.
He growls deep in his throat, lashing out against a plant that tangles onto him when he brushes too close. Rips it to shreds then does so again and again and again. He’s panting, tears running down his face as his knees hit the ground and he curls in on himself, letting out a keening sound.
He’s so angry at everything and everyone. It doesn’t make anything better, it just makes it all hurt worse. Seeping into the open wounds in his heart and in his head.
A hand rests on his back and Feral’s breath shudders at the touch. He looks up to find Thorn sitting next to him on the ground, hand rubbing circles on his back. “Feel any better?”
“No,” his words come out as broken sobs, “I feel like something’s putting poison into me.”
Thorn frowns at that, studies Feral for a moment with narrowed eyes. Then he pulls at Feral’s shoulder forcing him to sit up. “Well let’s try something else then.” He brushes Feral’s tears away and settles into an awkward pose trying to cross his legs, wincing as his armor doesn’t allow the movement. He sighs, unclips his thigh armor and tries again. “I don’t know shit about Jedi meditation but sitting around like this surrounded by plants is something they do so we can start there.”
Feral’s smile isn’t all there, he wants to hurt Thorn even though he really doesn’t. Wants to lash out and kill or just leave and not come back. Instead, he mirrors Thorn and closes his eyes.
“Breathe in deep and hold it for a few seconds before letting it go.”
Feral does, following Thorn’s example even though it seems he’s mostly guessing at what to do. It’s enough though. Feral feels himself calm, feels the drain his emotions have left on him. Feels the emptiness left behind.
He’s tired now. Exhausted. But he feels better. Less heavier, less like something is digging itself into him.
He breathes and for the first time in months, he feels more like himself. He breathes and for the first time in months the air feels a little less tainted.
…
He’s not sure how it happens. He’s in a bit of a daze after that but he ends up leaving the makeshift greenhouse with Thorn and by the time he realizes it they’re now in Fox’s office.
Feral lays down curled up on the couch. Staring blankly at the wall as Thorn takes over Fox’s desk. Going over some of the datapads on Fox’s desk with a frown. At one point Fox walks in, brushes a hand softly against his horns, then he moves with purpose as he immediately goes to shove Thorn out of his seat. Stealing it back as he sits down and starts to work.
Never once questioning why Feral is here as Feral drifts off into sleep.
…
“Hey Fox, what are the odds the Evil fucker did some dark side shit to infect people on Coruscant?”
“What do you mean?”
“Took Feral to let off some steam and he said he felt worse. Like something was trying to poison him.”
“…I’ll ask Maul. Maybe that’s how the old bastard is hiding himself from the Jedi.”
…
Maul is several hours deep into strategy planning when one of his hirelings knocks on the holo table, he’s stationed himself at, to get his attention. “Hey boss, there’s a clone wanting into the base. If you don’t hurry I think the Mando might do something drastic.”
Maul pinches the brow of his nose and curses quietly under his breath. He should have expected something like this to come up eventually. He hadn’t exactly hired any of these people for their pleasant sensibilities but he’d hoped they were more intelligent than they looked.
They know Maul has a deal with the Coruscant Guard. Or at least they should know, Maul hasn’t exactly been subtle that one of his main contacts and suppliers is a branch of the Guard. Slick and those under his command had been reluctant at first but they’ve developed enough of a working relationship that they’re not afraid to come to Maul when they need someone dead or need to make an illegal deal. So Maul’s crew should be fully aware that Maul will shred them into pieces if they even think of touching any of them.
Maul doesn’t run, that would be too much weakness shown to people he doesn’t fully trust. Instead, he strides promising death with each step he takes as he exits his office and out into the warehouse proper. He expects to see the Mandolarian being the one causing trouble. Instead, she stands between the clone and several of Maul’s other hirelings, gun drawn on them.
Maul looks the clone over and at first glance Maul doesn’t recognize who they are. They’re in plain clothes not a speck of armor in sight, though that would not have been much help in most cases anyways. As he nears though he can see the familiar scowl that belongs wholly to the Guard’s CMO.
“Touch him and I’ll flay you fucking alive Cross.” The Mando growls, her grip tightening on her gun as the Cathar bares his teeth.
“It shouldn’t be here Arla, it’ll blow our whole operation-”
Neither of them notices the way Shivers rolls their eyes in exasperation. “Considering I patch up your boss in my free time, and the fact that we work with him, I’d think your operation is safe from me. Also Cross was it? Next time you touch me without my permission I’ll let you bleed out when you eventually show up at my clinic.”
The Cathar blanches at that. He must be familiar then with the fact that there’s a clone who runs a free clinic in the lower levels. Maul watches the flash of regret that crosses the Cathar’s face and he feels zero sympathy for the man.
“They,” Maul growls as he takes the steps down to the main floor, “Are free to come and go from here as much as they want.” The way Shivers relaxes noticeably at the sound of his voice makes something purr in satisfaction deep in Maul’s chest.
He can’t say he’s surprised at Shivers showing up here. He’d been expecting it to happen sooner or later considering how often the medic likes to corner Maul as soon as he steps foot on the planet. If he didn’t know better he’d think the medic had gone through with their threat and placed, instead of a bomb in his spine, a tracker.
Maul’s paranoia had him check for that the first time he left Coruscant after recovering. There’d been nothing anyone could find but Shivers is smart. Probably let Maul’s paranoia settle then got him when he wasn’t paying attention. All of his Guard are like this, hitting their targets when no one else would ever be aware. It makes Maul want to let them loose from their shackles of the Republic just to see the real damage they could all accomplish.
Shivers waves a hand in Maul’s direction glaring down Maul’s group of criminals with no fear. “Are we done here? I’ve got things I need to talk to your boss about.”
The Cathar grits his teeth stalking off and pulling his cronies after him. The Mandalorian hesitates before she shoves her gun in its holster, not turning to look at the Clone as she walks off in the opposite direction.
“Are they all like that?” Shivers asks with clear displeasure on his face.
Maul glares at the few lurkers who’ve stuck around, watching as they scramble to leave in the face of his ire, “If they are I might have to kill them all and start fresh.”
“Fox would say that’s a waste of resources,” Shivers delivers with a bland tone.
“Fox would send them all on a ‘trip’ and they’d most likely end up crashing into a sun.” Which has apparently happened to at least one particular delegation early on in the war. Maul doesn’t know why Fox had them killed but he’s certain they all deserved it. “Not that I don’t mind your presence here but I believe that we’ve already had our appointment Shivers.” Which had involved several needles much to Maul’s displeasure.
“We have a new one,'“ Shivers scowls. Shifting with a faint hint of nervousness. “I need to speak with you privately.”
“Of course, this way,” Maul turns on his heel, making his way back up to his office, Shivers trailing close behind. When he enters he lets Shivers shove past him before he shuts the door. He doesn’t lock it as he makes his way to his table, dropping into one of the chairs and making sure that the medic has a clear way to get out of the room if they want to. “I’m assuming that this isn’t about anything I’ve done.”
Shivers snorts as they kick out a chair and sit across from from him. “No, though I should be considering you’ve got Jedi that have been trying to hunt you down. They won’t stay distracted forever by the evidence of abuse and corruption from members of their order and the other natborn officers in the GAR.”
Maul hmms, “I was wondering why they’ve been so quiet lately. And I have no one in the Guard to thank for that?” He glances down at his claws as he idly picks them clean. How easy was it for them to get that information? How much of it have they been saving to take down the Order or at the very least cull the bad seeds in it?
It kind of pisses him off. The greatest enemy he’d been raised to help destroy is already failing from within. Maybe it was his old Master’s plan this whole time. Maybe it’s the failings of incompetence and complacency, of choosing not to act and rather let things fester.
“I’m not here to discuss that anyway,” their fingers tap nervously against the table, leg shaking like an unstoppable force. “I need you to test my shields.”
Maul’s eyes widen in surprise. “Why?” The question comes out harsh, fueled by the sudden wave of anger that rushes through him. Has someone tried to break into the clone’s mind? Does someone need to die? Slowly and painfully. Specifically by Maul’s hands.
“Listen,” Shivers holds up their hands letting a wave of calm certanity brush Maul’s senses, “I just need to make sure my shields can hold up to someone digging for information.”
“Has someone tried that already?” Maul lets his anger burn a second more under his skin before he lets it go. Calm overtaking so he can listen clearly to what Shivers has to say. He has to be careful, with Fox’s theory of Sidious poisoning the force on Coruscant. Maul can’t afford to be incapacitated by vengeance.
“No, not yet. Or at least as far as I’m aware no one hasn’t yet.”
“You would know.” Maul is certain of that. There hits a point in force nulls where it’s impossible not to tell that something else is in their head with them. The clones would know sooner than that because they are actively trying to prevent that intrusion. There’s a few other reasons but Maul doesn’t think any of the clones would be overjoyed by them.
Shivers nods his head. “Good to know.” They bite their lip before continuing. “Early on in the war I got myself purposefully reconditioned.”
“You what?” Maul hisses, the anger flaring back up is quieter but no less deadly.
Shivers winces, “Yes I’m aware how fucked that sounds. I don’t know why I did it for sure, just that I found something I shouldn’t have found. That knowing whatever it was put me and everyone else in the Guard at risk so I did the only thing I could that would guarantee I’d either forget it entirely or would have a hard time recalling anything about it for a hopefully long period of time.“
They take a long breath in through their nose and out through their mouth. “But it’s more than that. I did something on Kamino before my reconditioning and I left behind a datachip with information I should only access as a last resort. I need to know that my shields will hold long enough to protect the information.”
“Have you looked at it yet?”
“Not yet but I need to. I found something on accident…” they wince at whatever thought has popped up in their head, “…and I need to know if it’s the same thing I found before.”
“I’ll help.” Maul holds up a hand to stall whatever Shivers is about to say next. “But you should be aware that this will hurt. If you truly wish to test your shields against the might of a Sith, I will have to try and take your mind apart and into pieces.” For the first time in his life, Maul doesn’t really want to do that. It’s a necessity, he understands that and will do it because it is. But he doesn’t want to.
It’s… an odd feeling.
“Do it.” Shivers nods as they brace themself in their chair.
Maul gives no warning as he digs into the shields, trying not to flinch at the way Shivers chokes back a scream.
…
Shivers stumbles into Fox’s darkened office covered in sweat and with a raging headache that’s pounding hard enough that tears are slipping free from Shivers’ eyes. They’d never been particularly interested in getting the same treatment Fox gets on a near-daily basis but it’s an eye-opening experience. Maybe they should knock Fox out more often if this is the bullshit he’s been hiding from Shivers.
They hit the light switch, wincing as the light pierces into their skull. Shivers groans shutting their eyes tight but all that seems to do is make it worse.
They can hear Fox groggily stirring from where he passed out on his couch. His voice slurring with sleep, as he roughly asks, “What’s the emergency?”
Shivers breathes slowly battling the nausea from the pain back. “Remember when I made you send me back to Kamino to get reconditioned?” There’s a moment of silence that spreads out between them.
Shivers almost regrets sending Maul away. The Zabrak had been insistent that he take Shivers wherever they wanted to go, so Shivers ended up back in their medbay. Then they sent Maul away because they didn’t want him to know what was on the datachips.
Not yet. Not until Shivers did and could tell Fox. Then Fox could figure out the rest of this bullshit.
“Shivers?” Fox is in front of them gripping their shoulders, holding them steady.
The tears are running down their cheeks from the pain in their head. They can barely register as Fox reaches up and gently brushes them away. "Shivers I need you to focus on me."
They focus long enough to get out, “I did that so I could investigate what the longnecks put into our heads.” Then they promptly pass out into Fox’s arms.
…
Savage sits across from Slick who sips at his beer and looks down at his cards. Savage isn’t entirely sure what card game it is that they’re playing but for some reason, he feels mocked by it.
“Go fish,” Slick takes another sip, ignoring the glare Savage is giving him.
“This would be easier if you actually explained how to play the game.” Savage growls out through his teeth. Annoyance at this clone growing by the second.
A part of him is aware of what Slick is doing. Pushing buttons until Savage snaps and proves him right about whatever theory he’s concocted in his head. It’s a familiar thing. He’s watched brothers come back from the Nightsisters like that. Testing boundaries to see what would warrant punishment.
“Which is exactly why I haven’t explained it.” Slick puts two cards down into the pile, a matching pair.
“Slick be nice!” Mouse complains from across the room, her blind eyes milky white as she turns her head in their direction. Even so, her hands still move with precision, putting back together one of the little droids that roam the halls. “Savage is kind enough to actually play with you. If you piss him off you’ll just have Jackal and Jackal cheats.”
“It’s a valid strategy!” Comes a voice from the hall as a clone passes by the room. Savage only catches the tell end of a purple mohawk to confirm that it is indeed Jackal, getting back from wherever Slick had sent him.
Slick shrugs his shoulders, “I mean if he didn’t cheat it wouldn’t be fun.”
Mouse makes a face, nose scrunched up in displeasure. “You both are so weird. Savage if you don’t want to play with him, you can help me set this little guy loose on the Senate.” She holds up the fixed little droid who lets out a series of high-pitched beeps that make Mouse startle out a laugh. “You’re absolutely right. Savage is very smart and should give up before Slick switches the game without telling him again.”
Savage sighs, tossing his cards onto the table and standing up. Not bothering to waste any more time on this. “What do I need to do.”
“Just help me get the little guy anywhere in the Senate without being seen.”
He grabs the little droid from her, frowning at it, “Why?”
She laughs and shrugs, “You never know when you’ve got to have a mess cleaned up.” Her grin is sharp, “The little guy can even take care of bloodstains.”
Ah, right. Savage had forgotten for a moment that all these people inhabit Maul’s tendencies in one way or another. It’s not like he can’t deny he feels the same. Death has never bothered him but he’s never craved it to the extent he does now. He wonders if it’s the witches’ doing or if something finally broke in his head when he held Feral by his throat and almost crushed it.
“I’ll get it done.”
“Thanks Savage! I’ll have the twins get you a treat for all your hard work later.” Mouse reaches up carefully finding one of his arms and grabs it gently to help pull herself up. Unafraid of the fact that Savage could easily reach out, grab her by her throat, and kill her easily with a single flex of his fingers. All of the clones are like that here. Unafraid.
Yet still ready to kill him if he proves himself unworthy of their trust.
The only exception is Jackal and Nexus who both avoid being alone in the same room with anyone who’s not a clone. So it’s not necessarily Savage they are afraid of. Though there is no doubt that both of them would fight him tooth and nail just as viciously as the others would.
He huffs out a soft laugh, before turning to leave. Guiding Mouse to follow him as she uses her free hand to unhook her helmet from her belt and slide it onto her head. Savage steadily ignores the way Slick is smirking down at his cards, now playing a wholly different game since Savage abandoned him. “Ask Nexus for the shift roster, that’ll give you the best times to sneak around the Senate.”
Savage hums an affirmative in response. Mouse lets go of his arm once they’ve passed the doorway and walks by his side with no difficulties.
“Thanks again, “ Mouse says, taking even perfect steps, “I’d ask Fox but he absolutely hates droids. Though he’s gotten a little bit better. Apparently, he made some deal with the mouse and other cleaning droids to just ignore each other’s existence. It’s kind of funny cause most of the droids actually like Fox.”
“They like someone who hates them?” Savage asks dryly.
Mouse shrugs, “They get treated as either invisible or something to be kicked around by the natborns. We all know what that’s like, especially Fox. So when Fox says he ignores them, it just means he won’t verbally acknowledge their existence. He still makes sure not to step on them and gets out of their way when they’re just trying to do their job.”
Savage doesn’t really get it. But he supposes he doesn’t have to.
“Come on, Nexus should be in one of the backrooms hacking into something they shouldn’t be,” Mouse says as she leads the way.
…
Savage stares at the building before them as he sits crosslegged near the ledge of the alcove they're hidden on. He’s already gotten the droid up to one of the upper floors and now he’s here with Mouse. Safely out of sight and hidden from any prying eyes.
Mouse hesitates and Savage can feel the spike of fear before she removes her helmet. He doesn’t think he’s ever seen any of the Guard other than Slick take off their helmet outside of their safe places. He understands why. Sees the reason before him as Mouse’s white eyes stare blankly forward.
He’d asked once why she didn’t get prosthetics. She’d said that at first it was fear and now it’s just because she doesn’t want to. She’s changed permanently in a way none of her brothers can understand. She’s fine with the change, not happy but settled with it. And none of them question her decision.
“So…”
“Thorn put you up to this.” Savage narrows his eyes, looking at her as she darkens in color and scratches the back of her neck.
“Kind of? I have the most experience with… being forcibly changed and accepting the fact that I’ll never be who I was before.”
Savage tightens his hands into fists. Claws digging into his palms. “I agreed to be changed. You did not.” he spits out, “I enjoy the power I’ve been given.”
She sighs at his outburst. “That’s all mostly true but there’s still something about it that’s upsetting you.”
“It has changed me in ways I didn’t think it would…” He breaths in closing his eyes for a moment before blinking them back open, “I thought my brother was weak and that he deserved to die by my hand because of it. I wanted to kill him.” His palms begin to bleed. “I nearly did.”
“And now you’re avoiding him.” She nods her head like she understands. A part of him wants to be outraged at the assumption to be angry and lash out. Mostly though, he’s too tired to care. “You know when I lost my eyes, the Senator made my patrol partner hold me down.” Mouse reaches out looking for a place to sit, and Savage reaches out an arm to meet her open hand. Letting her use him as a guide to help her to the edge next to him. Knocking a knee against his.
“Locks can’t even be in the same room as me anymore.” Mouse pauses, taking in a breath before she continues. “She tells us that it’s because she thinks what happened is her fault. That she should have disobeyed orders, should have felt something other than emptiness as she held me down and let the fucker poor acid in my eyes.” Mouse taps her fingers against the side of her thigh armor, “She followed orders. Just like any of us would. I think what she’s really afraid of is that she’ll have to follow orders again and hurt me worse.”
Savage is quiet as Mouse continues to tap out some unheard tune in her head.
“You know what’s really sad about all this? I’ve already forgiven her. I know that it wasn’t her fault, it was someone else’s orders, and if she hadn’t done it something much worse could have happened. I just wish she’d stop avoiding me so I could tell her.”
Savage narrows his eyes and gives her an unimpressed look he knows she can’t see. “You’re not subtle.”
“Thank you!” She grins. “I’ve been told a hard smack with a blunt hammer makes people listen better.”
Savage sighs, forcing his hands open, ignoring the blood that covers his palms. “I can’t be who I was before.”
She shrugs, “You don’t have to be. You can accept the changes that have happened to you and you can grow. It’s easier though when you have someone to grow with you. Helps the person who you hurt too. Especially if they’ve already forgiven you. Both of you were victims and both of you are different because of it. It’s good to remind each other that you still love each other despite it all.”
She shoves her shoulder against his. “It doesn’t even have to be today or tomorrow. Eventually, though Feral’s gonna corner you if you don’t seek him out first.”
“Is that what you plan to do with Locks?” Savage asks dryly as he looks away from her and back to the Senate. From here he notices he can see the Chancellor’s office.
Mouse giggles, “I have a whole plan set up. She’s never going to know what hit her.”
“Probably a blunt hammer.”
“Hey!”
…
They sit there several moments longer. The sky growing lighter with each second as the silence lingers. Before Mouse breaks it once more.
“I really do miss her.”
Savage looks over and sees the tears falling down Mouse’s cheeks, he unconsciously reaches out, brushing the tears away.
“…Did you just smear dried blood on my face?”
“…That… was not my intention but…”
Mouse’s laugh is bright as she punches his shoulder, “Alright Brother, heart-to-heart is officially over. Help me back to base and I’ll help you beat Slick at his stupid card games.”
…
Maul is sitting in a chair he’s stolen from Thorn’s side of the office, his feet up on Fox’s desk while he eats whatever greasy food has been dropped into his lap. He honestly doesn’t understand the appeal but he’s not picky enough to actually deny the food. He knows every bite counts no matter how disgusting it is.
Fox is sitting across from him, food forgotten as he goes through another stack of flimsi work with a scowl.
“Out of curiosity does he just give you all his work to do for him?” It wouldn’t surprise him if Sidious pushed all his work on the poor clone. It’s not like Fox could tell him no after all.
“A good chunk of it,” Fox bites the end of his pen as he reads through whatever is in front of him, “Nothing life-changing important and nothing that I could alter to help my brothers. Everything else seems to be free game though.” He signs the bottom and moves on to the next, “Sometimes I get lucky and he forgets to vet what comes through. Like this one.” Fox taps the flimsi with a grin. “Proposal bill to cut funds to the GAR, which means the Guard would be down to half rations and even less medical supplies.”
Fox opens a drawer, pulls out a stamp, and puts a large ‘denied’ on the paper followed by the Chancellor’s signature. “Turns out because of his emergency powers Palpatine can just shut down a bill before it ever makes it to the floor of the Senate.”
Maul hums, taking another bite of his food with a wince. “I didn’t realize you were low on medical supplies.” In fact, Maul remembers it being fully stocked last time he was there.
Fox waves him off with an eye roll. “Senate doesn’t give us shit. We buy all of that with our own credits.”
“I’m also absolutely certain you don’t get paid,” Maul says with a slow sarcastic drawl. Considering how eager Slick is to get Maul involved with the Guard’s own criminal enterprise he knows exactly where all that money comes from.
Fox hums, signs another paper and, finally Maul has had enough. He sits up, feet clanging to the floor as he puts a hand over the next paper Fox is trying to look at. “Eat. You’ll upset the others if you don’t eat this horrid meal.”
“It’s really not that bad Maul.”
“Considering the way you’re avoiding it I can’t help but think you agree with me.”
Fox rolls his eyes, picks up his fork, and takes a large bite of food humming in satisfaction. “I was wrong. This is much better than not that bad.”
“You all disgust me.”
…
“Oh, It almost slipped my mind, but Feral mentioned you picked up a new oddly shaped clone trooper.”
“Maul.” Fox’s tone is a warning.
“Very Togruta shaped in fact.” Maul takes a sip of his drink, savoring the taste of the wine.
“Leave it.”
“In fact, just the other day Thorn was laughing hysterically about it.”
“I have a knife and I’m not afraid to stab you with it.”
“Is that what you said to the Jedi when they found out you stole-” He doesn’t get to finish as Fox vaults over his desk and full body tackles him to the ground.
…
Maul has several moving pieces and yet none of them could account for the fact that one of his old master’s tools is currently sitting in his base. Sly Moore sips her tea, head tilted at just the right angle of arrogant. Next to her is Fox who thankfully looks just as annoyed as Maul feels.
“I want a place among this” she sneers, “criminal empire you are building.”
“You really came here thinking I won’t just kill you here and now?” Maul leans forward with a true air of curiosity about how someone can be so presumptuous, even as he places his hand on the hilt of his lightsaber. Honestly, it would be a good opportunity. He knows Moore has had a hand in changing many a Senator’s mind to side with Sidious with her abilities. With her gone he wonders if the strings would be cut.
She sets her cup down and blinks slowly. “I think that the Marshal Commander is smart enough not to let you waste resources you will need for your future endeavors.”
Fox sighs, head in his hands as he winces like he’s suddenly in pain.
Maul snarls, eyes narrowed on Moore as he lets his power suffocate the room. “I suggest if you want to keep your head, you keep your mind from his.”
She blinks, Fox looks up to glare at her but shakes his head at Maul, “She’s fine. I’ve had a headache since this morning, it’s not her trying to probe around in my head. Besides, she’s already learned her lesson about why that’s a bad idea.”
That gets an actual reaction from Moore as her eye twitches. Maul will have to ask about that later. For now though.
“Well then. Let’s see what you can provide to my empire and maybe I can find a place for you in it.” Maul grins, even as Fox rolls his eyes in exasperation.
Moore gives him a sharp smile of her own. “How about we start with the video proof of Palpatine’s dealings with Dooku.”
…
Thire is staring down the criminal seated across from him. The poor fucker who got caught hacking into the local electronic billboards, putting up a profane amount of anti-war propaganda. Nothing directed at the clones which had been a surprise. In fact, Thire feels like this is the first criminal who hasn’t been spitting any kind of vitriol at any of the clones during and since her arrest.
But it had caused enough chaos that the Guard’s forces are currently split between redirecting traffic and protecting the Senate building from a growing number of protestors. There have been several speeder crashes, injuries but no casualties so far, and while the protestors are currently peaceful it’s only a matter of time before they turn violent.
Hopefully, by then Fox will have convinced the Senate Guard and Corsec to do their jobs. If not the Guard will take the brunt of the violence and it won’t be pretty.
The Nautolan seems calm all things considered. She has her hands clasped in front of her, head raised proudly and unafraid. She spoke calmly when they first brought her in, even though it was only to ask for her lawyer.
A lawyer that Thire has yet to contact. He thinks he can get away with not contacting them at all. After all that would leave too much of a trail behind for what he has planned for the Nautolan.
Stone had said that Maul needed a reliable hacker, completely unrelated to the Guard, and here one is. She’s even got a perfect amount of self-righteousness. If Maul spins it right he can have her eating out of the palm of his hand. Make her think that what she’ll be doing is revealing some horrible truths about the war in order to stop it.
It’s mostly the truth anyway. It’s just there are a few other reasons that no one but the Guard and Maul need to know about.
Thire can already tell that she wouldn’t need the full explanation. She’d see the truth Maul would lay out for her and take it. Run with it. Sow the chaos they need. Thire’s still pissed at the harm she’s unintentionally caused the Guard but he’ll be nice just this once and tell Maul to give her a good enough paycheck as a bonus.
She’ll be a good fit for Maul’s crew. And if she’s not? Well, it’s no skin off his nose if she needs to disappear one day.
Thire grins with enough teeth that she shifts uncomfortably. “Someone’s paid your bail. So we’ll be releasing you with restrictions. Don’t try to leave the planet.” He shuffles some of his paperwork before leaning forward toward her with a menacing promise, “We’ll know if you try.”
Her black eyes open a bit wider in shock.
Thire leans back in his seat, humming to himself as he finishes signing off the paperwork. Quickly shooting a message to Stone then Maul. Stone will make her paperwork completely disappear, erasing any connection to the Guard. And Maul will be waiting just outside to snap up his shiny new hacker.
…
Maul’s plans are nearly all in place when one of his pieces is taken off the board, and a much larger problem takes its place. Fox has missed several check-ins with the other Commanders and any trackers they might have had on him have gone silent. Maul would usually be more annoyed about that than worried at this point.
It’s not the first time Fox has disappeared. He’s always returned mostly intact. Fox is a capable man, he’d fight tooth and nail to get back to his Guard no matter what state he’s in.
The problem lies in the fact that Maul was days away from enacting his plan, Fox is now missing, and Sidious has sent Maul an invitation. Wanting an audience with him. If Maul were any less paranoid he’d blow off the invitation with how close he is to ending Sidious. Not take it as the threat it is; a blaster pressed to a certain clone commander’s head.
Fox is missing and Sidious is nothing if not vicious when it comes to things he thinks belong to him. It wouldn’t have taken much for his old master to realize that Maul has been working with the Guard. Probably realized it the first time he couldn’t easily break into any of the clone’s minds. His arrogance would have made him let Maul continue on, not believing anything Maul would do could ever touch him.
Something has changed.
Maul would like to say it’s his plans working so effectively but there’s something else. A shift in the air that makes it easier to breathe, to see what the force has laid out in front of him. The madness that is always clawing at the edges of his mind is blissfully silent.
Sidious’s power is beginning to fail him.
Maul plays idly with the force suppression cuff he’d removed long ago. Spinning it on a finger as he heads up the darkened hallways of the Senate. He wonders if it was the clones who found his old Master’s well of power or if it was his brothers. A combination of both perhaps. Feral would have been sensitive enough to it that he could have led the way but he wouldn’t have been able to do anything about it.
He takes the stairs, walking past the elevator despite the calling in his blood to hurry. Fox will live. He will suffer and Maul will use that suffering to strengthen his anger when he faces Sidious. But Fox will live.
Because if he doesn’t Maul will burn this entire planet down and kill every single person not affiliated with the Guard. He’ll do it slowly, by hand.
He tucks the cuff away as he nears Sidious’s unguarded office. Kicking the door open and stopping just as he enters. His focus fully on the figure who lies still on the floor. Maul almost can’t breathe at the sight. His first instinct tells him that the figure is dead but Maul can feel the last remnants of consciousness holding firm. The familiar stubbornness of it echoing in his mind.
Fox. Fox whose chest barely rises. Fox whose armor is discarded, whose face is shredded beyond recognition, and whose back is so bloodied Maul fears he’s lost too much blood.
“Do you understand yet Maul, what happens when you disappoint me?” His old master stands over Fox’s prone form, his eyes glowing that familiar putrid yellow. “I’d thought you’d learned the lesson long ago but you do always exceed my expectations in idiocy.”
Maul huffs out a broken laugh, “I always did learn the best from my mistakes didn’t I?” He prowls to the side of the ornately decorated office. Not daring to go closer in case his old master took Maul’s movements as a threat. “Last time I came here and fought you by myself, you left me discarded with the trash of this planet.”
“A mistake on my part,” Sidious gives a faint smile and acknowledging nod, “I should have torn you fully apart but what can I say? This old man had such high hopes that you’d learn your place.”
“I have learned.” Maul forces his gaze away from Sidious, away from where Fox lies so still on the carpet. His blood is sinking into it, darkening the bright red to a nearly black color. Instead, Maul focuses on the streets of Coruscant outside the window. “Of course, none of what I’ve learned is anything you would have wanted me to.”
“And what is it that you’ve learned my old apprentice?” Sidious’s words are all teeth behind his pleasant smile. He thinks that Maul is here for a fight and Maul won’t deny that he wants to rip the bastard’s throat out. Sink his teeth in and let the blood fill his mouth.
It would be so easy to give into the hatred, the anger, the fear. It wouldn’t be the overwhelming calling it has been for the entire time he’s been on Coruscant. It would be his own pure power. But that’s not why he’s here. That’s not his plan. It would only give Sidious the satisfaction of getting under Maul’s skin.
“Sometimes revenge is better served by someone else’s hands.”
Sidious’s comn unit on his desk starts to frantically beep. Outside on the streets of Coruscant billboards and screens shift to a singular scene. A series of videos and information flashing across each and every screen. All the proof that Stone had given him and the video evidence Moore had provided is now on full view for every single person in the galaxy to see.
Sidious hasn’t noticed yet. Still too far back into the office, still too close to Fox. His old Master glowers at his back, and from the reflection of the glass he sees the man stretch out a hand towards the comn unit while another grips his lightsaber.
“What have you done Maul?”
Maul’s smile is filled with his teeth as he bares it at his own reflection, watching as traffic comes to a stop on the streets. As people land, get out of their speeders, and stare at what is being displayed. “I’ve done nothing.” He won’t claim this one. This was all built on Fox’s and Stone’s hard work, Maul just made sure everyone could see all the pieces put together.
After all, what’s better than watching someone’s whole world crumble down around them?
“How does it feel Sidious? To have everything you built, everything you worked for, crumple into dust?”
Sidious curses as he opens his comn. “You think this means anything?” Sidious cackles. “I still have an army at my disposal.”
“Do you?” Maul asks with an amused tone. He doesn’t know what Shivers found, only that it was important enough that the Guard broke their own rule. No GAR contact, no dragging them into this mess. Whatever it was, it was important enough that Shivers contacted every single medic they could get a hold of.
Maul hears the comn click on. “Commander CC-2224 Execute Order 66.”
There’s only the sound of static that greets them. Nexus must have cut off GAR communications.
“Tsk, tsk. It looks like the Commander isn’t taking any calls today Chancelor,” Maul mocks with glee turning to face the full fury of Sidious.
He tilts his head to the side as the comn unit is thrown at his head. It hits the glass just behind him, shattering it fully. Sidious lights his lightsaber, casting the room into shades of red in the darkness. He steps closer to Maul, face twisted in anger.
Maul leaves his own lightsaber on his hip, giving Palpatine a bored look, “What’s wrong Master? Have I not exceeded your expectations? After all, I’ve destroyed you without laying a single finger on you.”
“You don’t think I don’t know what you’ve been up to Maul? That you’ve been meddling in the Senate for the sake of the clones? You’ve lost your purpose and chose to help the things that I’ve made to die and serve.” Sidious sneers, “It seems now that all of them are a waste of credits and need to be culled.”
“I’ll wish you luck in that,” Maul laughs delightedly, “They’re all quite vicious when they want to be. You might end up dead before you even realize it.”
Sidious snarls and jumps towards Maul just as he lights his own lightsaber, blocking the attack. “I’ll start with the Guard. Make them execute each other for my own pleasure. Or maybe I should make them torture each other first?”
Maul rolls his eyes, and uses his free hand to grab Sidous’s wrist as he shoves off Palaptine’s attack with his lightsaber. Forcing his old master away from him and closer towards the window, as Maul takes a position between him and Fox. “You are so confident Master that they will listen. When I know for certain that they’ll do whatever they please if it means protecting their own.”
Sidious sneers reaching a hand out towards Maul.
His expression of confusion is almost as sweet as the sudden anger as he realizes exactly what Maul has clipped around his wrist.
Maul smiles sweetly, “So creative aren’t they? I still don’t know where they found a force suppression cuff but it is quite useful. To useful to just toss away.”
“You think that I can’t kill you, even with a small handicap like this?” Sidious laugh has an edge to it as he shakes his wrist. “Maul I didn’t think I could be more disappointed in you.”
Maul can see the glint of a rifle on the building just across from the Senate. Can feel the edge of danger in the force.
Sidious can’t. Too focused on Maul and cut off from the force. His senses dulled.
“I’m sure I can figure out a few more ways to disappoint you.”
He grins as a shot goes straight through Sidous’s head. Then Maul reaches out in the force and pushes the body through the window just before Sidious’s body begins to fall to the carpeted floors. If the shot isn’t enough the drop without force powers will be.
The Dark Lord of the Sith is dead. Maul breathes out, unsure if he really feels anything from that sudden revelation. Sidious is dead and gone.
He turns off his lightsaber, clipping it to his belt as he makes his way over to Fox’s prone body. He kneels, gathering the clone into his arms. Fox shudders at his touch, swollen eyes blinking open to hazily stare up at Maul.
“I’m thinking Isolation one should be safe enough for you to recover in,” Maul jokes at this odd paradox of how they first met.
Fox’s laugh is rough, cut off by small hiccups as tears slide through his bloodied cheeks. Maul rests his forehead against Fox’s, readjusting Fox so he can wipe away the tears. “He’s dead, Fox. You’re safe now.”
“He better fucking be.” Fox rasps out. Hand weakly gripping Maul’s tunic like it’s a lifeline.
Maul gets an arm under Fox’s legs, stands, and carries him off, stepping over the mouse droids that rush into the room. He doesn’t see Savage as he slips free from the shadows, but he knows his brother gathers Fox’s discarded armor.
Maul’s still not sure what to feel. If he should feel satisfaction that his revenge has succeded or anger that his plan relied on him not striking the final blow.
He almost feels hollow. Not in an empty way but in a way that there’s nothing further to do. He can finally rest once he’s made sure Fox survives.
They are all safe.
He is safe.
It’s all he needs right now.
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