#anyway it also bugs me that in season 3 he could give less of a shot about romance but suddenly now Will has been pinning after Mike for

[drunkengodsofslaughter]

So we all know that Will helped Mike to give that monologue. And how that Will said in the car what he said to Mike was the way that he felt instead of El. However, me head-cannoning Will as ace actually takes this whole van scene and Mike giving that monologue to a new light. A lot of people complain that Mike didn’t say anything about El’s personality and instead reduce her to her powers and tells her that she can fly. Thinking about it Will never actually tells Mike what he really loved about him (even if it was a disguise). It’s in a skewed perceptive in more ways than one. And with my experiences, I’ve been realizing that a lot of the people I had crushes on, I never actually knew them. I had this whole different version of them in my head and I loved the idea of them. And it seems like that’s something interesting in Will’s case too as he seems to do the same thing. We all know that Will says that Mike is the heart of the party however a lot of the fandom has been saying that that isn’t Mike. Even saying that it’s Will or Lucas or Dustin. And another interesting thing is that Will says how Mike makes him feel. Mike makes him feel like he’s not a mistake. However, present Mike’s actions seem to have the opposite effect. Despite Mike not reciprocating and being oblivious his actions as a friend are pretty shitty to Will. Mike’s behavior in present and cannon is to ignore Will in favor of El and blame Will for El being upset or not telling the truth about her bullying until it was too late. It honestly seems like Will has latched into that Mike of years ago. The one who was at his side and understands his pain. The one who didn’t completely ignore him. Now Mike isn’t there at all so Will is latching onto the Mike that he knew. Not the one that is hurting him now. Will can’t even acknowledge that a person who is his best friend and crush is hurting him. Idk Will’s speech seems so similar to how I viewed my crushes and years later realizing I latched into the idea of love or how I wanted them to love me. And before y’all say anything I am not a guy and gay so I don’t know the full extent that Will is going through. And before y’all say another thing I had a crush on someone who I was friends with for years so yeah I know the pinning shit.

#stranger things #will byers #idk just thinking about it makes me ache with how familiar it is #I’m not erasing Will’s crush on Mike! #it just seems so similar to the way I viewed my crushes #and with everyone wanting Will’s character to revolve around his feelings for Mike it really seems like y’all want Will to be obsessed #with Mike which was how I reacted whenever I had my crushes which DAMAGES relationships #it honestly may be the reason why I lost my friend as I was so fucking obvious! #this is why I want Will to be able to find happiness away from Mike #and why y’all’s obsession with Will’s crush on Mike drives me nuts #i may touch this up tomorrow but I really want to post this sooo!!! #also I’m not erasing Will as gay someone can be gay and ace!!! #thinking about it it has more to do with my experiences as a questioning person instead of a full ace person soooo maybe I’m an unreliable #narrator #anyway it also bugs me that in season 3 he could give less of a shot about romance but suddenly now Will has been pinning after Mike for #years #idk it just don’t make sense to me!

[storiesofsung]

Obey Me Rewrite - the Passion Project

Note: spoilers below the cut

I’ve always been in love with the game obey me and been super passionate about it as a long time fan however the game itself is kind of lacking.

Obviously it does what it does well, it’s a dating simulator about demons from hell but what I mean is it lacks potential.

I love the characters and their relationships with each other and the overall concept, that is what made me fall in love with it in the first place however I do have my own issues with the game not as a dating simulation but as a story.

To give you more context:

Characterization

- characters are given great potential with interesting backstories and fun personalities however the direction the game takes them completely wastes any sort of progression as interesting 3 dimensional characters

Example: Satan - he is shown to show personal struggle with a sort of inferiority complex with the way he was brought into this world (or hell) by people only viewing him as an extension of Lucifer and only as wrath, not as an individual living being. He works hard to create a name for himself and he prides himself on wisdom. He has a strong character and one of the best self restraint in terms of anger I dare say (he did attack mc but honestly from the way he was acting in Nightbringer it is progression) plus he is calm and collected and obviously by now a respected demon. Though he knowledgeable in itself, he still has issues to work with, one being working out his difficulties with Lucifer, (maybe) coming to terms with the way he was born and the trauma he went through when Lilith fell (he technically felt Lucifer’s pain). Instead as the series progressed we only saw him a soft cat boy, cmon 😀.

There are much more examples of this in fact all of them have such wasted potential, I’m not going to go in depth (unless someone asks me to hehe) but a very notable mention I would also like to make is

Example 2: MC - I’m not going to comment on how they are dull or has no personality because actually they can be very sassy depending on which options you choose. Also the mc is supposed to just be a self insert so I understand that enough. Anyways what I would like to give note to is the fact that mc forgave belphie right away after he I don’t know KILLED US? Or should I say, more accurately, the game forced us to forgive him so we would have the belphie lovey dovey options (no hate to belphie stans I’m just saying). What I mean to say is that we shouldn’t have not forgiven him you know, honestly it’s more of pacing. We COULD have forgiven him and actually that would be interesting development and a look into their backstory as angels, however there was no real progression towards forgiveness or us even being remotely scared of him (I may be wrong on this but I remember belphie and mc becoming besties real quick with no hard feelings) like the snappy mc incorrect quotes I think would actually fit well into the story as well as proper talk and real progression towards forgiveness.

2. Concepts and storylines

This is slightly less of an issue but I do take slight to the way the game handles storylines. Season 1 was the best (in my opinion) because it was less of “uwu mc marry me” content and more of demons being demons.

Alright so this really bugged me but I don’t like how MC is a a descendant of Lilith, like I know the brothers and Lilith are not blood related and are honestly more found family and that MC and Lilith and so far related (in terms of how many generations were between them) that they barely share dna I believe (in terms of physical dna and all that good stuff not the angelic powers) but I’ve always found it kind of gross but I guess that’s just a me problem…

I’m going to take the next part of my issues with concepts and storyline as general as possible but it’s really long but… hell doesn’t feel like hell, or should I say devildom doesn’t sound like hell

There is technology in other depictions of hell (like Hazbin hotel) but that’s done better because it’s not so emphasized (I know DDD is part of the game but I think they drive the technology bit overboard) it’s a lot less subtle and hell just feels like an abridged human world with slight magic involved.

The demons don’t even act like demons or look like demons, as hot as their demon forms are they look like emo teenagers that just discovered hot topic like girl bye 😭. They don’t act remotely demonic like sometimes, and everything just seems like a cosplay is the best way I can describe it. I know it’s 12+ and not 18+ but I really enjoy the more gorey fanfic versions of obey me concepts because that feels like hell, it brings out emotions in me of shocked scared and surprised which is what Dre me into the game in the first place, not a bunch of boys going to play dress up and harass the MC.

I have much more problems with the game( I still love so obviously I’m gonna play it) but this is more of a rant and I just played Nightbringer so I hope there is more lore that resolves some of my issues but yeah!

I’m not that skilled of a writer or anything but I would really like to try and rewrite obey me as a kind of “real hell” as a passion project, obviouslt no characters, or anything trademarked belong to me this is more of for fun. Again I’m not that experienced so if anyone would like to give me tips on how to write or would lousy like to chat about obey me, about this rant and other issues or just obey me in general feel free to dm me I’m always looking for more obey me stuff hehe but yeah, or actually honestly I just want your opinion on this.

I know it’s not that deep it’s a game about horny demons but it still means a lot to me and I hope you guys understand where I’m coming from. Thank you.

#obey me #obey me one master to rule them all #obey me fandom #obey me fanfic #obey me mammon #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me brothers #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie #rant post #obey me rant #obey me undateables #obey me nightbringer

[maryonaccross]

Hello, love your blog. I was wondering what are the things you would like to see in the next season(s) of HotD? Honestly, I'm not really hopeful and was quite disappointed how they handled some important characters and storylines in season 1, but I'll give a chance to season 2. If it disappoints me, well, at least I tried. The thing that worries me the most is the fact that it will only have 8 episodes because I think that could only harm the pacing. Anyway, here are some of the things I would like to see:

1. First of all, I want Alicent to stop being so apologetic and finally show some teeth. Team blank already hates her with passion and I want to see her acting for real like they were pretending she was acting in season 1. Let her be decisive, resentful of Rhaenyra, unconditionally supporting and protective of her children. I don't want to see any of "my old childhood friend" bullshit anymore. It was a good idea to start the story, but that is also something that should have been dead and buried long ago, especially after Driftmark. How could she actually approach Rhaenyra after the dinner and act all apologetic and humble again, even after that same "friend" asked for her maimed son to be "sharply questioned". No mother should get over it and I don't want to see "Rhaenyra is actually the most important to Alicent" narrative again. It would also be interesting to see the development of her relationship with Criston, not necessarily in a romantic way.

2. More Helaena screentime and her dreams/visions. I would like them to give her more importance and agency than she had in the book, especially after B&C. Explore her relationship with her family, make her an actual character, not just a "weird bug girl," "an innocent victim",...Same goes for Aemond and Aegon. I want to see Aegon as a complex character struggling with his new position, but also learning how to be more responsible and perceptive. Give me some intense scene between him and Aemond where they actually confront each other and finally express the way they see their place in the Targaryen family, how they cope(d) with their father's neglect, maybe discussion about Helaena and her abilities. I would really like to see some scenes between the green kids like the ones the Lannisters had in GoT, especially in the early seasons. This show needs something like that because it lacks depth when it comes to certain relationships. And yes, they better finally give Dreamfyre and Sunfyre the attention they deserve.

3. As for Aemond, I must say I'm not looking forward to his Harrenhal storyline, I prefer him in KL and interacting with his family. Furthermore, I'm not an Alys fan, when it comes to Aemond ships I'm more Rhaemond (will never become canon, I know) and Helaemond (might become canon, but not very likely) so I believe this Alysmond relationship will probably be something like Daemyra, deeply problematic and toxic, but quite popular among the fans. I just hope they won't make it some great love story because it won't make much sense imho. And of course, more scenes between him and Vhagar to show their bond and similarities. I'll never forgive them not including her roar when he lost an eye.

4. Give Baela and Rhaena more agency. Maybe some confrontation with their father and/or stepmother wouldn't hurt. If they really intend to depict Baela as Daemon no2 I'll probably hate her lol, but three is still hope for Rhaena. I've always imagined that she would be disgusted with B&C.

5. Include Sara Snow storyline. Regardless of what some people say, there are no romantic feelings between Jace and Baela imo and she will probably have another romantic interest, so why not give something to Jace to make his story more interesting? I don't believe in Cregan xJace and the way some TB fans defend that relationship as more acceptable and less harmful to his betrothal to Baela is ridiculous. Cheating is cheating, so why Sara isn't acceptable, but Cregan is? And anyway, that betrothal was forced upon them to cover for Rhaenyra's mistakes, so let Jace be rebellious for once, not just meek and dutiful. We've seen his darker side so they could explore that a bit more.

6. Please, don't make Nettles Daemon's daughter. Honestly, this is a tough one since their relationship was strange in the book too, but whatever they do, I hope they won't make her his daughter.

7. Don't make B&C a botched kidnapping or something. That would be too much and could actually make me stop watching

8. Show more cases of the dragons acting on their own, like Vhagar and Arax at Shipbreaker's Bay. Explore more "the idea that we control the dragons is an illusion". I want to see that on both sides, it would especially be interesting with the more experienced riders.

9. A good Rhaenyra vs Alicent confrontation scene. At least one.

10. No more Larys/Alicent scenes like the one in episode 9. Please.

Hey, thanks so much for the ask!

To be honest, you perfectly summarized everything I’d like to see in season two although my hopes are extremely low. The first season was a complete disaster with characters changing personalities every five seconds I don’t even want to know what they’ll turn season two into.

I think the only things I have to add are that I don’t want them giving all of Aegon’s storylines to Aemond. The writers have really gone out of their way to make Aegon as unlikable as possible and if it wasn’t for TGC’s efforts the character would be entirely unlikable. Aegon’s main redeeming quality in the books was his love for his family and his siblings so I’ll probably stop watching if they show him being in a brothel while blood and cheese happens, or if they’ll have Aemond executing them instead of Aegon.

Also, concerning blood and cheese, I have heard rumors/theories about how Dyana is supposedly going to be involved in it which I find absolutely atrocious. What are you trying to achieve at this point?? First you have to make him a rapist for some reason, and now you want to make his rape victim look like a terrible person by making her an accomplice to child murder.

I hate what they did to Beala in Rhaela, their inheritance was stolen and apparently they’re completely thrilled being the cupbearers of the woman their father married days after their mothers death and who is rumored to have killed their uncle. I hate how they took away all their agency and made them happy being married to Rhaenyra sons.

Most of all, I want the show to stop picking sides and nitpicking what they want to present as abuse and what they’re going to ignore (you can’t say anyone who supports Aegon is a rape apologist, while giving pedo wifekiller Daemon a free pass)

The only way to make the next season interesting is by depicting both sides as nuanced and morally Grey instead of making it into a good vs evil shit show 

#pro team green #anti team black #anti team black stans #anti rhaenyra targaryen #anti daemon targaryen #pro alicent hightower #anti viserys i targaryen #anti jace x helaena #anti rhaenyra stans

[thegeminisage]

QUICK update on the end of tng season 1 since i didn't have time last night. yesterday i watched "we'll always have paris" and then last night we also caught "conspiracy" and "the neutral zone."

we'll always have paris: NOT as bad as i feared. i did think picard making eyes at his ex for 20 minutes while her husband was dying in sickbay was kind of shitty of both of them but i REALLY liked the time distortion. it was soooo spooky and cool the elevator thing genuinely wigged me the fuck out

EVERY time picard tells data to stop talking i want to kill him <3

i'm surprised beverly didn't have a moment at the end where picard like offered her a kind word or something to help her with her Problems this episode but actually all she did was tell deanna she didn't want to talk about it and that was the end. ik it's doing her dirty but i actually respect her for that. none of anybody's business. i wish she'd stop crushing on picard though i feel like she could do better

anyway data's big moment at the end was very cool. i trust him so much he's my best friend

conspiracy: bugs bad. ohhh my god i can't believe none of you warned me

anyway it's weird because this should have been the season finale, given that it was brought up multiple times previously. or maybe only one time?

also love and light captain picard is the DUMBEST bitch on the face of this earth or galaxy or whatever. what part of KEEP IT A SECRET did he not understand...first he told deanna dnt hen will and then his ENTIRE bridge crew and then he went to confront the bad guys directly! yes it worked out for him but sir what the fucj

i did like that starfleet guys were basically getting hullened. killjoys i miss you. liked it less that there were BUGS.

i LOVED the riker fakeout but unfortunately i was hiding my eyes during that part because again, bugs

were walker and wesley's dad and picard like the three musketeers of tos...was this the implication...man that sucks. i would have actually been interested in that relationship if they had bothered to comment on it at all

VERY exciting to see a vulcan again!! so unfortunate that he was hullened.

anyway, for the buildup it got the actual resolution felt anticlimactic and very easily solved and it WASN'T EVEN. the season finale. whatever, tng

the neutral zone: WE'RE SO BACK. i like how this whole episode was an excuse for the romulans to be like lol we're back. that's an extremely bad and dumb premise but good for them

love that worf is anti-romulan. sorry about your parents king

those frozen bitches made me so mad. well just that one guy. i wanted picard to give him the business so bad. like when mike threw that fork in the bear. i don't even like picard and i would have been cheering him on. unfortunately he did not yell at the capitalist. even when the capitalist SNUCK ONTO THE BRIDGE.

guy with a southern accent did a good job. too good. don't like that

i felt the worst for the blonde woman bc she didn't ask for this but picard to will was like i need you to keep these people under control and he didn't and then he said to deanna i need to to keep these people undercontrol and then love and light she just hung out with this lady all episode. then when he was like (to security) gyet this man off the bridge they just stopped and stared at the romulans. what are we fucking doing on this ship

anyway even for all that data was right to revive them i can't believe so many people were incredulous that he wanted to do the compassionate thing and rescue a derelict vessel with human beings aboard. i thought starfleet was all about that shit?? jesus christ

anyway we are about to do "the child" and the summary looks bad so pray. pray.

#personal #star trek blogging #tng lb

[limelade]

 /gonna asssign every song on good news for people who like bad news sorry for being cringe </3

horn intro is literally just a horn intro it goes on for like 8 seconds and then ends its not a song. ill give it to uh box ig lol

world at large is suitcasecore. sorry. i like the lyrics

i know that starting over’s not what life’s about / my thoughts were so loud i couldnt hear my mouth

and also the uh. lots of bugs and stuff and sillys. and the tone of the whole thing. it is a nice song <3 the most mellow one on the list

float on is lightbulbcore its the most popular modest mouse song by far and its just very lightbulb core

it is funny silly. bout how bad things will happen and you cannot stop them but you all float on alright <3 and it is the prequel to lampshades on fire which is on another album but also lightbulb coded.. but for angstier reasons yum

OCEAN BREATHES salty is like my second favorite song on this album. and it is so marshmallow coded

your body may be gone im gonna carry it in / in my head, in my heart, in my soul

. then it goes onto nihilism. and the uh line “you get away from me” has two meanings in which one of the meanings is the singer pushing the dead person away from them and the other meaning is the singer not understanding why they did those things and. yipee marshcoded sorry. 

dig your grave is like a guitar and then 4 lines whispered 

. its a little bit mephone4 . its a precursor to the next song and that one is so mephone4

bury me with it is mephone4 coded. hehe . his themes in season 3 of refusing to let go

well the suit got tight and it split at the seams / but i kept it out of habit and i kept it real clean / but if its getting faded if its running out of thread / could you do this for me my friend? then it goes onto the chorus which is the title of the song <3. and its a fun song . mid song but its stil l got the

Dance hall

half the lyrics are im gonna dance all dance all every day and the other half are illusions to unhealthy coping mechanisms so i think i can give this one to lightbulb safely <3

bukowski <3 is my favorite song on this album and its about comparing the struggles over everyday people to god/authorities nd basically saying that authority figures  gotta be just as shitty as everyone else if theyre all created in his image. and its 

if god controls the land and disease / and keeps a watchful eye on me / if hes even so high and mighty / then my problems that i cant see / god, who'd wanna be such a control freak

religious and father symbolism in a lot of it. mephone4 again

anyways thats the last mephone4 song. the next song is That Devil's workday and its about NIHILISM but in the opposite direction of ocean breathes salty! if the shitty things you do barely matter then you keep on doing em! and thats taco! singer thinks they are beyond redeption and therefore doubles down on the shit they do! tacocore

The view is next and its pickle.

:) and i adore this song for its reoccurring theme of betrayal and hoping the Worst for the person who did . despite missing them and yipee

satin in a coffin is fun.

same theme of revenge but angrier and far less forlorn and. thumbs up emoji sorry. cant describe it this album has too many songs

Interlude (Milo) has no words. moving on

blame it on the tetons is softer and its also about blaming your personal apathy and emotional disengagement because all your attempts seem fruitless and i think thats </3 blueberry season 3 episode 10 sorrryyyy. she does blame it on the tetons.

black cadillacs is SO SUITCASE actually sorryy

alliance breakup arc core.

. actualky hold on im gonna obsess over this song all week i think dammit give me a bit to actually

One Chance

feels very paintbrushcoded :)

they care so much but they dont know how to go about Fixing things without hurting others in the process and they are fucking up. soo much and they decide its best to quit and. :)

The Good times are killing me

is aboht unhealthy coping mechanisms again and also the upbeat tune and the nihilism hidden under the bouncy guitar is just lightbulb coded. and also the lyrics is quite literally the Good Times are killing me. lightbulb song

#sorry. #for the

[stellocchia]

So, I once made a post about c!Tommy and c!Dream’s relationship throughout season 1 (which you can find here), but today I was thinking, why not do the same for the Exile Arc?

There are some people that still don’t seem to have a comprehensive idea of what actually went down during that time (either because they joined the fandom afterwards or haven’t watched it at the time) so I’ll try to do that here. I’ll cover the first 2 streams here, and then continue in the next part because this is gonna be way too damn long otherwise...

As always I’ll be talking only about the characters and the roleplay from here on out and also I’ll be touching on some very heavy topics under the cut (such as gaslighting and abuse). Also this is gonna be another one of my Overly Long Analysis, so... you know... be warned of that.

I’ll be going through this vod by vod, so It will be so long... God why do I always do this to myself?

Let’s start with TommyInnit Is Exiled From The Dream SMP... which is the vod when Tommy actually get’s exiled.

So, the exile scene per se has been covered a 100 times over, but, right after Tubbo asking Dream to “please detain and excort Tommy out of my country” Dream yeets Tommy off the walls and then he immediately establishes the general idea of how it’ll be in exile: “I don’t think you wanna die Tommy. You need to- to listen to me”.

Also it is to be noted that in this “exile” time and time again Dream establishes arbitrary rules that were most certanly not meant in the initial sentence (which is why it’s much more of a kidnapping then an actual exile). Starting from before they even leave L’Manburg completely. In fact when they are still in the vc with the others and still just down from the obsidian walls, Tommy and Dream have this exchange:

“Do I have any time to speak words? What can...” “NO. NO. NO. NO!” “what the...” 

And then right after (just after leaving the vc):

“Do you have food?” “Yeah...” “Good, we’ll be going a long while still” “Am I not allowed- well surely- surely I’m only exiled from L’Manburg-” “Oh, no no no. You’re exiled from everywhere that’s been touched”

The sentence was only for him to be exiled from L’Manburg. Dream theoretically only had authority over the Greater Dream smp in any case, so how come immediately Tommy’s “sentence” becomes being exiled from “everywhere that has been touched”? What authority did Dream have to exile him from the Badlands? Or the Holy Grounds (considering those are widely considered neutral)?

This is from right after Ghostbur joins them:

“Well, I don’t- I don’t have to come with you” “Well, I mean, I’ll kill you” (...) "I don’t have to follow you! I don’t-” “Tommy! Then I’ll just kill you. What happens if I kill you?” “I die...”

Again, technically Tubbo only asked Dream to escort Tommy out of his country, not all the way to his place of exile. Tommy here is right, he is exiled, he is not supposed to have a jailor going with him, he is not supposed to be imprisoned. All he supposedly had to do was get off the lands he wasn’t allowed into and then he’d be good. Of course Dream’s plans were different there.

Also the trend of constantly undermining anything Tommy is feeling at any given moment sure doesn’t stop with the Exile Arc! 

“No, no! I don’t want to head anywhere! I wanna to go back! I wanna go back!” “Fine fine, we’ll head this way then. It’s fine, this is fine” “I don’t wanna go!” “Tommy come on...”

Honorable mention to Dream talking about the first time he exiled Tommy:

“Do you remember- this is actually funny! Do you remember the first time you ever joined the server? And uhm... you got exiled? By me?” “Yeah?” “It’s kinda like that, except now if you don’t listen you die”

And the conditioning begins all the way here, with Dream trying to decide Tommy’s emotions for him:

“Oh... I hate you” “*laughs* Okay Tommy, you don’t hate me” “No, no I definitely do” “Noooo, you don’t hate me”

Cue Dream just blowing up Tommy’s second Summer Home after he explained that it was supposed to be a safe haven for him and Tubbo. Also note that Dream is already getting rid of any mob attacking Tommy even if at this point he still had armour and weapons to defend himself. I talked about this before, but Dream does seem to want Tommy to be as dependent on him as he is on Tommy, which is why during exile he made him dependent on him for protection/safety and company and in prison for food. Also Ghostbur going: “I don’t think this man is very nice...”, thank you Ghostbur, I wish you could remember that, but you’re trying your best and I appreciate it...

“How long is- how long am I exiled for? When can I just go back?” “You can’t (...) if you go back you die”

Again, not Dream’s decision to make. Tubbo was the one exiling Tommy meaning that, if Tubbo actually had the decision power in that istance, Tubbo was the one who should have decided when he could come back. Also, again reiterating the point from before:

“I thought I was only banished from L’Manburg, that was the deal, not the entirety of the smp-” “Oh no. No you’re banished far enough where they don’t see you”

Also, a little look into Tommy’s mentality here:

“Tubbo said he wasn’t thinking with emotion, but with reason, but: what the fuck is the point if there isn’t any- any emotion?!”

This is honestly why he is Dream’s exact opposite and probably why he finds him fun, while Tubbo is irrelevant to him. Tommy thinks emotions should always be taken into account when making decisions and he values sentimentality over everything. Dream is the opposite, to him emotions are irrelevant and sentimentality is a weakness. Tubbo is a bit of both, which makes his clash of ideologies with Dream a lot less evident. 

Anyway, they get to the island and Dream builds Tommy a dirt shack for him to set his spawn into. And then there is the first istance of Dream taking all of Tommy’s stuff (building blocks and food included) and blowing it up. Which, again, is in no way an actual exile condition. Tommy is in jail basically. He got kidnapped and now he is in jail. Also right after that Dream gives them food and obsidian (of course acting like he is doing them a big favour, when he actually just created that need), which Tommy bromptly refuses, later burning the obsidian.

Also Dream’s parting words here are: “I’ll see you never”. Which couldn’t be less true! There is quite a bit more after that, of Tommy and Ghostbur settling in, finding a ruined portal with some armour and the village nearby and Techno visiting, but this is about c!Dream and c!Tommy and it’s already incredibly long as is, so maybe I’ll talk about everything else another time...

Onto the next one: Tommy Is Alone in Exile with Dream...

This stream starts off with Bad visiting Tommy to give him a few presents (which consist of Chirp, 2 diamonds, an enderchest, and almost dead diamond pick with silk touch, some coocked chicken some bones and a few stacks of oak wood logs). Also Tommy sees Logsteshire for the first time. Then Dream arrives and he is not happy about the present (something something, having other people giving Tommy useful stuff would make him less reliant on Dream). Also Bad seems to be slightly scared of Dream since he immediately tells Tommy that he should not say that any of the stuff he gave him was from him. Anyway, Dream destroys everything, but Tommy, with Bad’s help, manages to save Chirp. Here’s their exchange in this scene of course:

“Tommy?” “Yes! Yes?!” “Do you have uh... something you wanna put on the floor here?” “Yes *throws in 3 red concrete blocks*” “Anything else Tommy?” “No! You’re evil by the way, you’re an evil man-” “Come on... I know there is something else you wanna drop down here...” “No there-... *gives disk to Bad* I don’t reckon there is!” “Okay are you sure...?” “Yes!” “Alright... how about uh- how about your armour Tommy?” “No this is- I actually earned this myself” “I know you did! Just drop it in the hole Tommy” “No, no! You can’t just come and demand things from me! I’ve been exiled, I’ve done your shit! What- what do you mean-” “Tommy~” “What?” *Dream hits Tommy with an enchanted netherite axe* “Drop them down~” “Hooooo okay okay okay!”

So, in case anyone was wondering, physical abuse is there as well. And this is fully depicted as physical abuse. Like, normally, with this being Minecraft, it is implied that violence is generally inconsequential, here though c!Tommy reacts to it clearly in pain and shock. There is no doubt there. 

Sapnap arrives at this point as well. After that Dream makes it a point that Tommy cannot have the enderchast that Bad gave him because you can never have enough random arbitrary rules when kidnapping someone apparently! 

“Why are you here? Why are you here? What- what could you- what could you possibly want more from me? You’ve tortured me-” “I’m just! I’m just... keeping an eye on you Tommy” 

I’ve highlighted this because, considering the last time Dream was there he said he would never see Tommy again, Tommy’s confusion here is more then understandable. But of course Dream acts like it’s obvious that he would be there and that it’s necessary to make sure that Tommy is not “up to no good”. Also, another extremely important exchange: 

“You’ve exiled me you stupid manipulative green bastard!” “Yeah I know! I know! And you know why I did that” “Yes? Yes?” “No, you know why” “Why?” “Because you don’t listen to me ever. You’re the only person who doesn’t ever listen to me (...) listen, you are like a little annoying bug in my room and it pisses me off so I take you and I put you outside and that’s what I did. And now I’m just making sure that you stay outside”

So... the bullshit about this being about George’s house is out of the window by the first proper exile stream. Also Dream goes in the ever increasing list of villains who, if annoyed enough, will reveal all their evil plans to the protagonist. Like Tommy screaches enough and Dream will immediately go in evil monologuing mode...

“So what do you actually want from me then?” “Well nothing, I’m just here to talk to you. Tommy, we’re still friends ok? Just because I exiled you doesn’t mean we’re not friends-” “Just because I killed your friends and family doesn’t mean we can’t be bros...” “Well, it’s true!”

Ok so, it’s confirmed that Dream would still go on with this “friendship” facade even if he killed Tubbo or Wilbur then. Also:

*Tommy sees a creeper* then in the most monotone tone ever: “Help me” Dream sprinting from the other side of the cave: “TOMMY!”. I love this scene and I love this two dumbasses (and I mean the cc’s here). Also, to go back to the serious stuff: once again Dream is the one killing every single mob around Tommy because he blew up all his means for defence. Also Bad and Sapnap are still there as well, but Dream is always the on interveening (mostly because he is the one following Tommy around more closely). I’ll have a few of the more interesting quotes here afterwards until the next interesting scene:

“If I had 8 legs I would fuck you all up” “Oooh, no you wouldn’t” (Dream de-valuing Tommy’s anger once again)

“Stop following me” “NO” “Well okay then...” (honestly this was just funny...)

“Can I call you Wilbur? Or is it Ghostbur...?” “You can call me whatever you like” (for those saying that Ghostbur not correcting Tommy was weird)

“Alright Wilbur, what do you need an enderchest for? I might make an exception but-” “We- we need it so that we can access our stuff from the old world, the old world” “But not to go back” “How would we be able to go back with an enderchest?” “Well I don’t know maybe there is stuff in there that’s... better” “Tommy do you have anything that could get you to go back? In the enderchest?” “A boat? What’d you mean?” “Yeah to be honest we just need wood to get back, it’s not really-” 

Here we have Ghostbur poking holes in one of the new rules that Dream added that day. As a matter of fact, why would an enderchest be dangerous? Tommy mostly keeps sentimental stuff in there and a bit of iron. Still that’s the whole point: Dream is trying to get Tommy under his control so he needs to bring him to a point where he’ll listen to his orders even when they don’t make any actual sense. Also, btw, Dream doesn’t actually give them an enderchest after this exchange.

“Do you want to come with me Tommy? Do you want to come with me and visit the old library?” “No no no” “Yes! Yes please!” “No he wants to stay here with me” “I don’t. I definitely don’t” “He does! He’s just trying to be nice to you Wilbur. He’s trying to be nice to you” “I’m not Wilbur, I want to come with you” (way to gaslight an amnesiac ghost...)

“So how long is Tommy supposed to be here?” “Like a week?” “Oh, a week is not bad!” “*laughing* No he’s here forever” (Like goddamn, imagine if every minor griefing was punished with permanent exile!)

“M-maybe like- does Tommy gets like visitations? Like once every month he get’s to go to L’Manburg-” “No! No no no” “No visitation, huh?” “No visitation” (well, let’s thank Sapnap for trying...)

So, after this Tommy gets his plan to go through the Nether and find a quick way to and from L’Manburg to, perhaps, sneak in unnoticed at some points. Dream “allows” him here to go to the Nether (even though technically there is no reason why the exile would extend to there as well), so they get to work on fixing a ruined portal. “Did you know, I apparently blew up a nation and killed everyone” (thank God we have Ghostbur, he makes everything better). One thing I want to note though: at this point Tommy still kills the mobs attacking him when Dream is not stalking him and doing it for him, which is kind of nice. We are still at the first exile stream though...

“Can I go back for like an hour and see all my friends?” “No, they can come here though. I-I mean Tommy, I think- I think that someone could come here and visit you, but you can’t ever go back. Like I-I don’t have anything against people coming here and visiting you if they want to. They don’t HAVE to, but they can if they really want to” “Tommy think of it this way: whenever you’re in prison you can’t just go and visit your friends, but they can come and visit you” “They can come and visit you, yeah, that’s actually a very- that’s a perfect analogy”

I wonder why the best analogy for Tommy’s situation is not a f*cking exile analogy, but actual prison. Maybe because he is confined to one place, not allowed to keep any personal items and never allowed to go back? Also they actually get to Nether hub at this point and there is the famous scene with Tommy looking at the lava: 

A curious thing about this scene (aside from being a clear indication of the beginning of Tommy’s depressive spiral) is both that Dream didn’t seem to particularly care about Tommy dying up until now (and in the future as well) as long as he is the one to kill him. Meaning that he seemed fine with it as long as he had control over it. And yet at the end there he agrees with Tommy’s statement of “it’s never my time to die” which kinda makes me think that Dream by this point was already entirely set on his idea of Tommy needing to be alive for Dream to control the whole server. Tommy and Dream head back to Logstedshire after this scene.

*Tommy looks at the lava while standing very close to the edge* “I’ll go back through just to... check and see” *Dream hits Tommy away from the edge* “Come on” *Tommy goes back to the edge and Dream pushes him away again, this time covering the hole* “It’s not your time to die yet Tommy” “It’s never my time to die” “That’s true” 

“Home sweet home...” “Home sweet home. I think it’ll be good! People might visit you all the time, I mean, I can visit you! It’s- it’s actually fun to come here! It’s a little bit- it’s a change of scenery, you know?” “It’s not fun to be stuck here” “Well... you’re not ’stuck’ it’s your vacation home!” “Can I go back? I’m ready...” “No but you can leave this area, you can go somewhere else. This is just- like, I took you far away, you can go further if you want”

So, if anyone is wondering, this is not, in fact, Dream giving Tommy more freedom. Especially considering that when Tommy does leave Logstedshire later on Dream literally hunts him down, so no, that was never an option. What Dream is doing here is make himself sound benevolent by comparison by telling Tommy that the only other options he has are worse since they are even further away.

“I’m here for a good time, not for a long time” (more hints towards Tommy’s depressive spiral)

“Guys how do you know when it’s too much?” (and again)

“Can I go and see the tree?” “Tommy, you can’t go and see the tree” “Dream why don’t you let him just- it’s not in L’Manburg! Why don’t you let him just see the tree and then escort him back?” 

Ghostbur my beloved, pointing out holes in Dream’s rules all the time. Something tells me that’s the reason why Dream tried to kill him later on...

Anyway! This concludes this first post because it’s... Oh fuck this is REALLY long.... welp! I’ll make the others in the next few days! 

#dreamwastaken #tommyinnit #ghostbur #dream smp #exile arc #tw abuse #tw manipulation #c!dream critical #character analysis #relationship analysis #this was supposed to be just all the quotes of c!dream being an asshole during the exile arc #then I went 'how about I write a couple of my thoughts in as well?' #and mistakes were made... #long post #my post

[jiminrings]

umm maybe this is me projecting bc i am messaging you during my break but for a drabble request, yoongi in a retail setting???? 😐😐😐😐 oc could either be a co-worker or a regular customer who asks too many questions 😔😌

retail-type beat

drabble week: day three

drabble week masterlist

pairing: customer!yoongi x retail worker!reader

wordcount: 3k

glimpse: "hi! almost thought you were hiding from me for a second. anyways, is this sweater wool or cotton?"

feedback + support mean the world to me!!

the last time you checked, work doesn’t start until nine

you kNEW it doesn’t start until 9 in the morning, so clearly that’s why you’re just wearing slides instead of your sneakers

the company uniform is either black or purple (it has to be from what the store is selling though so you can get to choose) with of course!!!! a lanyard!!!!

and you know this, because you’re still wearing your slides from home because it isn’t opening time yet

“goddamn it, i forgot to bring my slippers,” jin moans the moment he walks to see you, looking down on your feet that only reminds him he’d be stuck in his cool yet painfully uncomfy sneakers

he’s probably the only co-worker that you’re truly close with, not feeling the urge to sell him just to get a free day

“i told you to get the sneakers that nurses use!!”

hands-down one of the best purchases you’ve ever made

retail’s hard and it’s not exactly the best-paying job!!! thankfully the franchise owner is a bit more generous so that’s why you get slightly-higher hourly pay

“i would if they looked a little more seasoned,” jin snorts and stubbornly crosses his arms, “i might sacrifice my pride and buy some compression socks.”

OOOOOH THOSE ARE GOOD TOO

makes you feel like ur walking on air

but lol no seokjin isn’t ready to buy those just yet

he’ll settle on some blisters and putting salonpas patches because they look cooler that way, thank u very much <3

jin yawns, talking about finding a steam iron somewhere to replace a blowdryer so he could break in his shoes

“you wipe the glass this time.”

oh right he absolutely hates wiping down the glass — even before opening!!! even when there aren’t any grubby kids that would soil it instantly with their equally as grubby hands

you don’t mind it honestly

you might honestly like it

you prefer wiping the glass a hundred times over than steaming clothes

there is nOT a single thought in your head when you spray on the solution to the glass, rag and squeegee tucked between your fingers when-

maybe you should’ve hOLY FUCKING SHIT

it’s not opening!!!! it is nOT nine o’clock in the morning!!!!

you know that the shop you’re working in is pretty fucking famous and it’s located on one of the most populated streets ever BUT THERE’S ALREADY SOMEONE

although the bucket hat seems familiar from a distance and-

oh it’s just yoongi

yoongi?

yoongi’s already here????

:O

yoongi, the guy in question, is an always customer!!

no, not a regular customer — an always customer

he comes every week and maybe even twice within that period

he’s a nice talkative customer who likes asking questions and even occasionally guides the other customers on what to buy and where to find it

he’s yoongi!!! of course that’s expected of him

he’s been going here long since you ever started working here, and jin keeps iNSISTING that he’s been here more frequently since you started like a year ago

but doesn’t he come at eleven in the morning?

“woah, yoongi’s already here? — doesn’t he come at eleven in the morning?”

?!!?!!

“i was just thinking the exact same thing.”

jin bangs the glass with his fist and you automatically wince and frown

you dO like cleaning the glass panes!! you didn’t say you liked cleaning them a second time :(

“YOONGI!”

“YES??”

you push jin’s fist away to wipe at the smudge his hand left

“IT’S NOT OPENING YET!”

“I KNOW!!”

wow they’re uh

they’re really loud

sometimes you forget how seokjin could be since it’s been awhile since you heard him yell

lol no one’s been shoplifting recently so you haven’t been hearing him

a mind-blowing idea is for jin to come outside and talk to him in a normal talking voice, so your ears would stop ringing

“HEY! WHAT IF YOU JUST ENTER EARLY IN?”

“REALLY? IS THAT EVEN ALLOWED??”

"YOONGI, EVERYONE ON THE FLOOR KNOWS YOUR NAME. NAMJOON EVEN GAVE YOU A CUSTOMARY BIRTHDAY GIFT, AND WE DON'T GIVE CUSTOMARY BIRTHDAY GIFTS TO ANY OTHER CUSTOMER!!"

namjoon, who technically should be called mr. kim because no one really thinks to call the franchise owner with their government first name, is actually pretty cool

but he's too busy these days and haven't been visiting because he's too busy tending to his newly-opened coffee shop

as if the money he earns from opening his franchise in a day alone isn’t enough :0

"IF YOU SAY SO?"

you’re the one who hikes up the roll-up door in the slightest, enough for only yoongi to enter and not encourage anyone else to nOT enter when it’s still not opening time!!!!

he only has to crouch a little but he still has to dust his thousand-dollar pants as if he crawled through mud

his cream-colored slacks with a large black hoodie that has a giant bear embroidered on the middle of it and mules

... you don't hate his outfits

pretty cute, actually

it's yoongi!!

you'd never catch him lacking!!!

you don't even have to envision him rocking the shit out a paper bag

one time, he came in the store wearing the WRINKLIEST brown linen jumpsuit that no iron could possibly fix and he still pulled it off

toon-teen-ten!

oh god that’s the sound of the intercom

and the sound of the intercom equates to jungkook

... as in jeon jungkook who’s the floor manager and his constant top one goal for every month is to endearingly annoy seokjin

he’s young and mischievous!! but if you were to ask him, only you and jungkook are the people in this floor he’d actually get drinks with outside the shop

“seokjin come to the lingerie department right now, please.”

you see the thing is :D

“now this is just funny

there’s walkie-talkies for everyone here!! jungkook likes intercoms, and seokjin like yelling!!

“WHY ME AGAIN?? I’VE ALREADY FOLDED-“

“there’s a literal rat and i need yOU to catch it!! you know that i hate rodents!!”

him and jungkook are forever gonna be on this eldest-youngest brother dynamic and while jungkook pouts and shared the extras that he gets, jin is the one who kills the bugs :D

10/10 totally fair

fine then!! he’ll catch that goddamn rat

that leaves you and yoongi. alone.

“why did you come so early this time?”

you ask out of courtesy, genuinely baffled too because you know that yoongi’s a creature of habit

yoongi’s eyes pop out, head fervently shaking no

“i’m typically not the type to do that, no.”

???

is he-

are you-

are you both talking about the same thing

yoongi’s face flushes in embarrassment, his mind just then registering what you were actually saying

“o-oh! it’s because last night, i dreamt of the sweater i saw here last week!!"

oh right

typical :D

"need me to find it for you or do you already know the aisle?"

you align the folded shirts by the corners as you pass, looking at yoongi briefly while he trails behind yoh

“not unless you pulled it out already."

he's hoping that dear god you haven't

the black sweater with the moon aND buildings on it and when you turn on the flash, the windows of said building reflect it right back???

he SHUDDERS just by thinking about it

it’s gonna go with everything!!! an instant boost of serotonin every time he sees it

"for you, yoongi?" you shake your head, a small smile on your face that he only sees every once in a while, "i'd comb through the entire stock room."

wait

that’s sweet :((

“i’ll hold you to that.”

you know what??? you're less cranky when it's only him, and a couple of hundred people less

your smiles aren't for customer-service and you don't have misplaced clothes hanging from your shoulders and your walkie-talkie isn't talking in latin

or when no one’s asking you to reach something from the top shelf

or when you’re on the way to the intercom because a kid got separated from their mother

or when someone’s approaching for a refund for a shirt who has a stain that’s 100% no doubt customer error

his feet immediately move on its own because he’s memorized the outline of this too many times

there it is!!!

the sweater he’s dreamt about is already on his hands, only a handful few left

the piece is considerably more expensive than majority of the items here, so that’s why they’re all spaced-out instead of being clustered altogether

yoongi rarely goes to the dressing room, regardless if it's a full-house or not!!

he could just look at an item and immediately tell that it’s made for him ta know

he's beyond sure that this sweater fits him perfectly, but he may want to be here a little longer

yoongi may have say inside one of the fitting rooms and spent a little time in it just to sit on the chair inside, not fitting the sweater at all

he's gotten his item SO quick and he wished he could've just walked slower or pretended to not know where it was!!!

he wants to spend a little more time here

you don't hate yoongi!!! but sometimes he could just be... yoongi

he's quite talkative and strikes it whenever, making you unguarded

he could be overbearing but like an overbearing kind of nice

yoongi’s nice!! he’s the type to ask a lot of questions sure, but he’s also the type that would point the other customers what to buy and where to find it

he’s the type to find an obvious faulty stitch on a shirt, but he’d just quietly exchange it instead of asking for the manager

he’s the type you wouldn’t want to stand behind in line because it would take a long time for him to finish, but he’s also the same one who buys giftcards with generous amounts for family and friends

yoongi’s kind of cool and that’s cemented on your mind

"what do you got for me?"

he materializes out of nowhere, spooked because you thought he already ringed up and was out of the store already

it just happens to be ten minutes before opening and you’re doing last-minute arrangements on a new spread

well, yoongi most certainly is still here and his attention’s piqued

“we have... a new collection."

you clear your theory, awkwardly gesturing because you’re more than aware that yoongi hasn’t seen this either

“yeah, i know that. but like, what's going on??" he gestures to the displays and racks, squinting his eyes, "what's the theme? what's the material?"

:O

uhm you haven't read the brief about this

you aren't even sURE if there is one!!

doesn't everyone make up something on the spot in retail

or atleast that’s what seokjin tells you

“the theme," you clear your throat, scratching your temple before gesturing towards the full rack, "is everything."

“everything?

yoongi’s eyebrow is raised, not expecting that answer at all

you look back to the new feature, and nOW that you think about it,, there's no cohesion at all

“y-yes. the shop was going for the theme of uhm, everything... all at once — yeah, that's it. everything all at once."

it’s a nice way to put it when not one bit of the new collection goes together

“hmmmm. i like it,” yoongi nods solemnly and tilts his head, “and the material?"

"the material?"

you repeat, eyesight not the best so you can’t really tell anything off the bat or uh aNYTHING really

"t-the material is shirt."

they're all shirts!!! that’s it

yoongi grimaces in disgust, the first time you’ve seen of it

“what?? you can't say that.”

he outsretches his hand to the nearest article, holding it up by the hanger

"this, right here, is satin. see how it shines like silk, but doesn't feel like silk?"

uhm yes

you have a gist of what he’s saying but yes

yoongi picks up a pink button shirt this time, flipping it inside out

"this, is silk charmeuse. look at the inside, is it smooth?"

okay where is he going with this

he urges you to put your hand on the fabric and uhhh you didn't sign up for this???

it looks smooth, sure!! end of discussion

"yea-..."

“it's not. it's rough. it is smooth, but it's dull. silk charmeuse is still silk, but the backing it has is different from the lustrous part."

okay yoongi

you’re starting to feel uncomfortable and it has to do something with the tone he’s using on you

“can't believe you didn't know that!! how about this," he plucks out a shirt with a tiny print at the middle of it, "cotton or polyester and rayon?"

"i don't-"

there’s an itch in your neck that you want to scratch, a tell-tale sign that you just wANT to remove yourself from this situation

“come on!! it's a dead giveaway!!"

:((

why is he being like this?

toon-teen-ten!

“y/n, panty section please. jin almost got bit by a mouse and he needs comforting. two minutes until opening, people!!"

jungkook speaks at the right moment, and jin’s little incident is enough of a reason for you to bolt

yoongi's still looking at you but you can't afford to embarrass yourself further

“bye. happy shopping."

huh?

yoongi’s face falls when you leave as cold as that!! typically when you were going to show him out (when it’s regular shop hours), there’d be a smile :((

there's not even a customer service smile :(((

yoongi goes to the only cashier that's open so far and it happens to be far away from you and a teary seokjin

seokjin's fine he didn't even get bit!! that much he could say

but are you okay? uhhh you kinda went cold on him by the end and he thought he started on a good note

yoongi doesn't visit for another week and you don't find yourself counting the days until you meet him again

you did not have a devil wears prada moment where anne hathaway has an epiphany for fashion knowledge

you just felt belittled at a job that isn’t exactly what you wanted anyways

needed, yes. but wanted? not exactly

you know that basic knowledge about clothes is required in a retail job like this and you have it!! you do!!!!

you’d know more if only there were actual available resources for employees to know!!! nobody besides yoongi asks anyways

you’d know if you have time to yourself and aren’t working two jobs trying to make ends meet and tHEN you could pull up a book or something!!!

you’d know if your life is as lax as yoongi’s and could have the budget to buy new things for yourself every single week

“jin, i need to ask you something.”

he hums as called, looking at you briefly until you get on with it

“do you know the difference between silk and silk charmeuse?"

he shrugs casually while you're sitting inside one of the closed-off fitting rooms to catch a break, sharing a burger because the store’s packed-packed

why did you ask him? it’s too easy

“one's made by worms, and the other's a pokémon."

that,.,., could not possibly be righti* it brings you a laugh and you honestly don’t even try to correct him

it’s 11:15 and you kNOW it’s time to resume your shift, straightening your shirt because atleast one (1) person would hound you when they see a familiar red lanyard

oh you’re hounded alright

“hi! almost thought you were hiding from me for a second.”

yoongi????

oh

you haven’t seen him for a week and you don’t know what to feel in all honesty

"anyways, is this sweater wool or cotton?"

wow

you're quite speechless as he holds up the item

really?

this thing all over again???

why are you even surprised

the only thing that yoongi gets your customer service smile, fishing your hand from inside the sweater to show him

“70% wool."

that's it???

NO GOOD MORNING????

you're mad at him, aren't you?

he knew it :((

he knew something was wrong but he just didn’t know what

he’s gonna fix this!! he will

which is why the very next day, he takes the day off from his work and comes to the store at a time he knows you’d surely be there

you're on cashier duty and you like it actually :D

you have an option to sit and the way you’re just gonna scan pricetags (and occasionally enter the code if it doesn’t work) is really appealing

“good morning!"

you’re about to grab the items from the basket laid on the counter and your eyes could only see the very familiar hand

the same one you’ve seen go through racks and racks

yoongi??

he sets his items one by one, buying himself more time

the first one is the same exact sweater he came to wait for before opening

“you already bought this."

you tell him even before you could hold it back, looking back at him briefly before you scan the tag

“i know. i just wanted to see you."

oh

oh

yoongi threw a bunch of other items (individually) so it would be a longer talk, but you scan each item quickly that he’s grabbing things from the counter

hand sanitizer!!! hair ties!!! keychains!!!! yeah he needs them

“i'm sorry that i tend to spring shit on you most of the time. you don't need to know the difference between silk and silk charmeuse."

you only chuckle then, a meek smile on your face

"it's okay, yoongi.”

“it's not."

... it’s not?

yoongi fidgets, opening and closing his mouth like he’s nervous!!! he’s never had his credit card cancelled but he could only feel that this type of jitterness is more than the former

“can i make it up to you? no lanyards, no baskets, no customer service?? i don't wanna fuck things up with you."

“don't feel obligated-"

“i know i could be a condescending ass who expects people to automatically know fabric and whatnot, but i wanna make it up to you."

alright yoongi’s a really good apology-maker

you mIGHT be even flustered a little

“you're holding the line, yoongi.”

“i cleared my schedule."

“i haven’t!!!!!” - guy in the back

“dinner at my place at 8. i-i promise to make your hard-earned break after your shift worthwhile!!!"

hmmm

maybe that wouldn’t hurt

“okay. just because you're holding the line."

“fine by me."

:))

yoongi transfers all the items he bought, all but one, to his tote bag

he hands back the paper bag to you, scribbling his address on the back of the receipt before he does

he lingers a little while at the counter, the people behind him ALREADY switching lanes to the one seokjin’s just opened beside you

it's the sweater that he has too

yoongi scratches the back of his head, this time being the meek one

“what? m-matching sweaters for our first date. s'cute."

#drabble week #yoongi imagine #yoongi imagines #min yoongi imagines #yoongi oneshots #yoongi oneshot #yoongi drabble #yoongi drabbles #yoongi au #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi fanfiction #min yoongi fanfiction #yoongi fanfic #min yoongi oneshot #min yoongi scenarios #yoongi headcanon #yoongi fluff #yoongi angst

[ghost-wonder]

Why Oliver March is My Current Top Suspect for the Leader (Even though I love him)

Buckle your seatbelts kids and get ready for my hot mess of a PH theory. I wasn’t sure where to put this and I just wanted to get my thoughts out. I’m in the last year of my media studies and production degree so I’m putting my 3 years of tears to use and have been brewing this theory since reading 85. Now let me clarify: I adore March, but the more we see, the more suspicious I become (especially with ep. 82 & 85), and while many think this may mean death or something tragic, I’ve been thinking of the possibility it’s something much bigger (Note: lots of speculation here so prepare for a lot of what if’s and I’m only using content up to ep. 85).

My thought process regarding the leader:

The leader is a rather dehumanized villainous entity. With them being anonymous and the reader not having a face to place with the actions, it’s easier for us to take the leader’s actions at face value. We are provided no means of sympathizing or empathizing with their actions and instead, our story follows characters who have been traumatized by said actions.

Therefore, to provide readers with the greatest impact, the leader would likely be a character who up until the discovery of them being the leader, the reader viewed them positively. A character already humanized. Already trusted. And this would be both in terms of how the reader views that character, as well as other characters in the story. It would leave the reader reeling, trying to figure out why such a character would be the leader.

And keep in mind: PH has used this approach with Harvey; the audience liked him for the short time he appeared before being caprisunned and we were shocked to discover his involvement in the PS. Additionally, we’ve had characters dehumanizing and humanizing with Kieran. He’s introduced as this deadly assassin who kills brutally, with the greatest death toll in the PS. But he becomes humanized through his interactions with Lauren, so much so that both the reader and Lauren forget his occupation and are provided a chilling reminder in ep. 43. However, even after those horrible events, as we learn more regarding his character in season 2, we begin to empathize with his actions and reactions (though we don’t condone them). It demonstrates a duality, a mix of light and dark, seemingly contradicting one another. Because people are complicated.

This is also why I can’t buy into the idea that Tristan or Stefan is the leader, in fact, I don’t think either one is even involved with the PS. For Tristan I think he comes off suspicious because A) he’s meant to be a red herring but B) LAUREN’S PARENTS WERE APOSTLES AND YOU CANNOT TELL ME HE DID NOT KNOW. THEY LEFT AT ODD HOURS OF THE NIGHT ALL THE TIME AND LIKELY GAVE LAUREN TO TRISTAN TO PROTECT HER FROM THAT LIFE. HE PROBABLY THINKS LAUREN IS PS. But anywho. As for Stefan, he’s already been villainized through his treatment of William. The audience doesn’t like him for this reason and is then inherently suspicious of him because they dislike him. So for me, it feels too obvious. (I have an additional theory that he was involved with the print shop shooting, assisting Lizbeth (from what’s alluded in 64 with Lauren’s parents and 68) as chief of police but that’s for another place another time.)

What we know about the leader:

- It’s a he

- Has to be part of the older generation (would have needed to be an adult about 15 years ago)

- Was a member of SD

- Knew Lauren’s parents

- According to Hecate, he is closer and more similar to Lauren than she thinks

So why March? (It’s not just the villain scar)

- His speech to Kym and Will in 60 had me SUS. It felt very contradicting (he acknowledges the flaws in the system while saying they must continue their jobs, which is valid, but his phrasing was still off to me) and generally in any mystery drama if I see a character go on a moral rant of sorts, my sus radar is dialed up to 11. Unfortunately, we don’t know how much of it was true and lies because Lauren wasn’t around but if he is the leader I’d find it so fascinating if everything he said is the truth. The idea that this terrorist does have sound morals would be SO INTERESTING and kind of fitting? The leader having a strong sense of justice or strong morals would make him more similar to Lauren as Hecate said. But more on Hecate later.

- As confirmed by 85, he knew Lauren’s parents. He even says they worked together on cases. Through their work together, did they start to realize the flaws in their system? Was there a case that was just too much? SD formed?

- The death of his daughter does kind of fit the SD timeline. (She died in xx11 the pamphlets are dated xx14 but SD was likely formed slightly before the release of the pamphlets but that's not yet really confirmed). We don’t know how her illness killed her (could be class-related. Like because of their class status perhaps they didn’t have access to the resources that could have saved his daughter? Who knows. He said they did all they could. March is likely middle class similar to Kym but we don’t know for sure. And even if he is middle class we don’t know if this was always the case, like if he was middle class at the time of his daughter’s death.)

- Additionally the death of his wife. The date is blocked and as others have theorized I find it very possible it could have been SD related. But this sentence is chilling: “She fell into the bloody hands of criminals that have been plaguing Ardhalis for too long.” March doesn’t specify these criminals as the PS. So could he mean the royals? (Literally everything he says to Lauren in ep. 85 could have a double meaning and it bugs me so much like he never specifies the criminals he’s referring to. And everything he says sounds like the monologue of a villain who sees themselves as a hero because they haven’t realized how far gone they are. But that’s just me. ) If she died in the print shop shooting could this have been the catalyst to drive March to become the leader and start the PS? Losing your daughter and wife is a lot to take and could drive anyone over the edge. Point is: if any of this speculation is true, it would give March motive for becoming the leader.

- Also March mentioned how Lauren reminds him of his daughter which could then explain why Lauren hasn’t been touched by the PS cause at this point the girl should have been caprisunned a while ago if she wasn’t being protected from the inside.

- To build on that as well, if March is the leader then he has kept an eye on Lauren since she joined the force aka since she would have become problematic for the PS (cause you can argue being the daughter of apostles may not automatically make her a threat since she was a child at the time. But being the daughter of apostles and joining the police force to take down the PS? Now that’s an issue). March says in ep. 60 that Lauren was one of his recruits meaning the leader could have had his eye on her the entirety of her time in the APD. Just something to consider.

- And going back to Hecate's words, he’s more similar to you than you think. March and Lauren share (seemingly) similar morals and additionally he is close to her just as Hecate claimed. Also if any of my speculation regarding the deaths of his wife and daughter are correct it would have put him in a similar position to Lauren, the difference being her enemy is PS and his being the royals (but also as we’re starting to see with Lauren learning more information, I think the royals are starting to become an enemy in her eyes the same way PS is. Again if any of this is correct it just furthers similarities between the two).

- This could then also be the betrayal alluded to in the cards; one of Lauren's mentors has been the leader this whole time. The betrayal is either past or future but March being the leader could count as both. He betrayed her in the past by ordering the death of her parents and may betray her again in the future as he continues to play the role of leader

- Plus this would also mean the leader has been present in the story FROM THE VERY BEGINNING MARCH WAS IN EP 2 HOW WILD WOULD IT BE IF WE’VE KNOWN THE LEADER THIS WHOLE TIME

- AND IMPORTANT NOTE: WHY IS MARCH NOT ONE OF THE PEOPLE LAUREN SUSPECTS DURING EP. 82 YET HE HAS HER BACK SIMILAR TO WILL AND KYM. "LAUREN OPEN YOUR EYES" BLINDEST OF THEM ALL TYPE STUFF. (Also with Lauren being the blindest of all, it led me to believe anyone Lauren is suspicious of, is not the one to betray her. I feel like it would have to be someone so unsuspicious, Lauren doesn’t even think of them. Which can be said of March; we literally have a whole scene in ep. 82 demonstrating how close they are and how a level of trust exists. Yet panels later, it doesn’t even cross her mind that he could betray her).

Now possible flaws in this theory (there are more I’m sure but here’s a few):

-Why voice support for lune and their actions: Lune’s actions have yet to affect the leader (at least to our knowledge) and have technically been helping the leader. The leader views Apostle 7 as an issue so obviously whoever the leader is, they won’t take issue with Lune taking down this problem for them. When first telling Lauren about McTrevor, Kieran said he was surprised he hadn’t been sent by the leader to kill him off yet. And when the 11th precinct received that first Lune letter about him, March was the one to voice that they should follow Lune’s orders. If he’s the leader, this could explain why he wanted to follow Lune’s orders and dispose of McTrevor without PS means. This is a possible explanation anyway.

- Why send moles into the 11th precinct if the leader himself is already there: I boil this down to a matter of seeming less suspicious. Like why possibly risk the exposure of your identity if your organization consists of hundreds of potential puppets who are easily disposable?

-Why place the PH in the 11th precinct if the leader is there: Okay this plays into another theory I have regarding Kieran. We know there are boatloads of parallels between Lauren and Kieran which left me thinking Kieran has had a similar Tim Sake type incident. What I mean by this is that Lauren’s whole deal with Tim Sake was heavily guided by her personal anger and resulted in distrust from her superior, Hermann. I think Kieran had a similar incident with killing that one person without orders, in which his actions were guided by his personal anger and resulted in distrust from his superior, the Leader. So we know from 83 Kierans been overseas for a while (Why? Was there a mission or did the leader need Kieran out of Ardhalis? Both?) and his comment in 64 (“I wonder how much longer his patience will last”), as well as the comments made by Bella and the messenger at various points regarding Kieran following and not following orders (ep 5 and 72-73?), further my thinking that the leader may be SUS of his best player. So what do you do with someone you’re suspicious of: you keep them right where you can see them.

- The one flaw I have yet to work out an explanation for is why order the death of lune? Regardless of who the leader is, this is a question I’ve mulled over since the end of season 1. J’en sais rien mes amis mais on verra.

Closing Thoughts:

Hopefully, this didn’t sound like the ramblings of a sleep-deprived senior (even though that’s exactly what this is haha) and hopefully, it gave you some stuff to consider. Up until this point, I never spent much time contemplating the leader, partly because I didn’t feel like we were far enough in the story to have enough evidence against one person. While much of this is speculation, I still think it’s the soundest case I have for any PH character we’ve met thus far being the leader.

#purple hyacinth #ph webtoon #lauren sinclair #oliver march #kieran white #webtoon #purple hyacinth webtoon #this is a lot #dont hate me i just cant accept nice things

[rodneymckays]

stargate episodes that should have been, part 20: an alternate reality episode where cam went to atlantis and sheppard joined sg-1. in this universe cam wasn’t injured in antarctica and i think that he is the kind of guy who would go to another galaxy for fun and also because he has to do the Best thing he can possibly do and that’s going to another galaxy. sheppard for whatever reason didn’t sit in the chair but did still fly jack down to antarctica so when they’re looking for sg-1’s fourth jack is like “well there’s this guy i met who kinda reminds me of me except he likes antarctica for some reason” so he becomes sg-1’s fourth under sam’s command. i think at first that would cause issues because of his problems with following orders + sam is new to her command and feeling somewhat insecure about it BUT these issues aren’t with sheppard disobeying sam’s orders they’re just sam worrying that he will. because sheppard only disobeys orders that he sees as bad and from what i remember of s4 + his personality in general he really respects sam. anyways this is actually a 3-parter because you have the sg-1 episode where our sg-1 meets the other sg-1, the atlantis episode where our atlantis people meet the other atlantis people, and then the crossover where they all meet one another because you can’t have the sheppards and the cams not meet themselves. i have no idea where in the timeline it is beyond “not season 4” because there are inconsistencies, but whatever. it’s also very long so i am using paragraph breaks for once!! also i will be putting a 1 after the duplicates from the show universe and a 2 after the duplicates from the au for clarity. (everyone without a number is the only one of themselves present and is from the au). also i definitely got carried away and this is too much plot and not enough character interaction even though i originally thought this one up for the character interactions, oops.

EPISODE 1: SG-1. somehow, our sg-1(1) is pulled through to this other reality. something to do with ba’al messing with some ancient tech in the other reality. the sg-1(2) of that reality, led by sam2 and featuring a major sheppard2, has snuck onto the ha’tak ba’al is using as his base of operations. they run into our sg-1(1) and there’s some spider-man pointing meme and then sam1 and sam2 start discussing how this could have happened while the valas compliment each other’s hair and cam1 and sheppard2 go “wait but you’re supposed to be in atlantis” “no, YOU’RE supposed to be in atlantis.” eventually we find out that ba’al is using ancient tech to develop a hyperdrive capable of traveling between galaxies, which the goa’uld don’t have. his test destination is the pegasus galaxy because he figures that if it works for one jump but then fails, then he can just turn up at atlantis and ask the tau’ri for help again after threatening them lightly to save face. obviously the humans don’t want ba’al going to pegasus, because we like our villains to stay confined to just one galaxy, and also if his hyperdrive works then he could destroy atlantis or ally himself with the wraith or be defeated by the wraith and have his ship captured and now the wraith have an intergalactic hyperdrive or—well, there’s lots of ways it could go wrong, and sg-1(1) gets the point that they need to help sg-1(2) stop ba’al. they spend much of the episode tracking ba’al and sneaking around the ship, until they finally corner ba’al in the engine room and teal’c2 shoots him. unfortunately, they enter hyperspace almost immediately after this, and are captured by… another ba’al. END.

EPISODE 2: ATLANTIS. somehow, our atlantis team1 is pulled through to this other reality. something to do with mckay2 and zelenka messing with some ancient tech in the other reality. our atlantis team1 is quickly locked in interrogation rooms because who are they and why is major sheppard with them instead of colonel mitchell? this tips off mckay1 to the fact that they’re now in an alternate reality. fortunately mckay2 and zelenka have already reached this conclusion and they’re let out of the interrogation rooms just in time for news to reach atlantis that a ha’tak has arrived in pegasus. (and also before ronon1 and ronon2 start fighting instead of just glaring menacingly at one another, because who thought it was a good idea to have ronon2 interrogate ronon1. he didn’t even ask any questions.) alternate weir decides to send the atlantis team2 in to investigate but mckay2 is like “i’ll need someone to help me with the goa’uld tech, we’ll take zelenka” but zelenka is immediately like “no?? there’s another you here. take him. i don’t like leaving the city” so it’s decided that both mckays will go, and you can’t send mckay1 without the rest of his team so EVERYONE is going. they take two jumpers because mitchell2 and sheppard1 both want to fly the jumper. when they arrive through the space gate that the ha’tak is near, they see a badly damaged wraith hive with no life signs. the ha’tak has also taken some damage, but much less, and they’re able to fly through a hole in the hull to board. they detect minimal life signs: two on the bridge, eleven in the cells, and a few others scattered around that must be ba’al’s jaffa. the group decides to split up; they toss a coin and mitchell’s team2 goes to the bridge while sheppard’s team1 goes to the cells. when sheppard’s team1 arrives at the cells, they find them unguarded but locked. mckay1 cracks the lock and we see the cell doors slide open. cut to the bridge. when mitchell’s team2 arrives, they see one of the dots on the life signs detector begin to fade. mckay2 gets the door open just in time to see ba’al collapse to the floor, having been fed on by a wraith. END.

EPISODE 3: CROSSOVER. what the hell, ba’al is in a wraith now. (i’ve always wondered about what would happen if the goa’uld met the wraith; would they fight and if so who would win? or would a goa’uld take a wraith as a host? is that even possible? i say yes because it’s Fun.) the symbiote entered the wraith and then promptly fed on his former host because he was hungry. this is obviously Terrible News because the wraith are bad enough but tbh they’re not very smart. ba’al is. mitchell’s atlantis team2 all point their weapons at him and radio sheppard’s atlantis team1 to let them know there’s now a goa’uld with a wraith host. sheppard1 responds and says “ok, we’ll we’ve got two sg-1s here. and also todd” to which mitchell2 replies “who the hell is todd?” (“pale skin, long hair, likes to suck your soul out with his hand but makes it weird by returning your soul ten minutes later?” “oh you mean casper.” “what the hell kind of a name is casper?” “what the hell kind of a name is todd?!”) we find out that “casper”, who is of course alternate todd but was named casper by mitchell2, was on the hive ba’al disabled. he and one other wraith were taken aboard the ha’tak, and he was put in the cell for later in case the first implantation of a wraith didn’t work. he’s willing to help everyone defeat wraith ba’al, because goa’ulds taking wraith as hosts is bad for the wraith too. so they do some stuff, and with much difficulty, kill wraith ba’al. it’s harder than killing a normal wraith because he has the goa’uld regenerative ability, and also he keeps feeding on his jaffa to recover after being shot. eventually they manage to trick him into a set of rings and space him. then they have to decide what to do with the ha’tak. casper wants it for himself because of the intergalactic hyperdrive and turns on them. they manage to activate the self destruct and flee back to the jumpers. they believe that casper is destroyed in the self destruct, but he survives somehow. the rest of the episode is the sams, mckays, and zelenka trying to figure out how to send sg-1(1) and the atlantis team1 home. we also get a few character moments between everyone and their counterparts: cam2 and both sheppards discuss puddlejumpers while cam1 is sad because he doesn’t have the gene and never received gene therapy so he can’t fly a puddlejumper. they break into medical to convince beckett to give cam1 the gene therapy; they’re pretty sure it’ll work on him since it worked on cam2. it does, and the cams and the sheppards immediately have a race to the mainland and back. (the sheppards win, but it’s close, and the cams try to blame it on the fact that cam1 has never flown a jumper before while everyone else has.) the daniels go to the library together and share their knowledge about the ancients and the ori; mostly they know the same stuff but they do both learn a few new things. the ronons fight one another. it’s a draw. the teylas and the teal’cs watch the ronons fight, and then meditate. the valas flit between each of the groups and compare their versions of everyone. vala1 ends up in weir’s office and bugs her with a bunch of questions until weir actually puts down her work and just Hangs Out. vala2 ends up with the cams and the sheppards because she’s absolutely best buds with sheppard2 and desperately wants to meet sheppard1. anyways after everyone hangs out for awhile they go home and it’s a very :) ending, which is what they need after All That.

i like this character swap idea a lot because after watching the pegasus project i was kinda chomping at the bit for more character interaction between sheppard and the rest of sg-1. particularly vala. more after the cut cause i wanna yell about all the other stuff i love about this!!

i also like the idea of sheppard not being in the team leader position. it makes me wonder what him following orders offworld, particularly sam’s, would look like. i don’t remember him and sam butting heads over command decisions in quite the same way him and elizabeth did at the start (sheppard wanting to go go go, make slapdash decisions, usually in an effort to help people, altho sometimes misguided, particularly in hot zone, vs elizabeth who was often looking towards a less militaristic approach, i.e not trading explosives to the genii, not torturing a POW etc. and who took her time making decisions). but then again, both sam and john are military. so, it’d be interesting to see how sam manages him along with the rest of the team. also, since hes not in a leadership position (no ones counting on him to keep the team together), would he be even more gungho about the self-sacrifice play? or just the same as ever? anyway, enough about john (once i start, i can’t stop, it seems), let’s get into the episodes!!

Episode 1:

“if it works for one jump but then fails, then he can just turn up at atlantis and ask the tau’ri for help again after threatening them lightly to save face.” LMAO truly ba’al’s modus operandi.

and the wraith potentially stealing hyperdrive technology is DEFINITELY something sg teams of all universes and galaxies should team up to put a stop to. a whole new galaxy to feed on?? not to mention earth??? NOT GREAT. the situation definitely calls for earth’s mightiest heroes squared.

also i appreciate a good sneak on an alien ship. especially times 2. and who would partner with who?? so many fun character combos!

Episode 2:

LMFAO OKAY. ronon vs ronon is such a ronon thing that i laughed out loud. both of them would definitely wanna know which one was tougher. also. also. i would love for zelenka and mckay1 to have a science twin moment and mckay2 to get all proprietary and be like “get ur own!”

i can’t imagine rodney would get along all that well with himself so its a good thing the rest of the teams will be there to run interference. and be separated on the ride there bahaha. cam and sheppard would totally fight over who gets to fly the cool spaceship (the teylas look at each other with raised eyebrows of sympathy and respect. both teams require them to pull on their reserves of infinite patience).

OOOO and ending on a CLIFFHANGER and INTRIGUE, QUICKLY, to the next episode!

Episode 3:

u kno, i was thinking earlier, after reading the first episode, what would an interaction between goa’uld and wraith look like? my immediate thought was, they are either gonna join forces to crush the stupid humans or fight because the goa’uld kinda need those humans for indentured servitude and, u kno, living. or, u kno, they would fight just because their ginormous egos clashed. but NEVER did the thought occur to me that a goa’uld might take a wraith as its host for its superior genetic makeup over humans (super strength, jedi mind tricks, telepathy etc.) and this is why ur brain is amazing. and a smart, conniving creature in control of a wraith body…spells trouble. and i didn’t even consider the double healing factor which would make any wraith on par with an uber wraith (that i dont remember ever seeing after the defiant one lol).

also cam naming his todd casper means everything to me. his ability to drop movie/pop culture references no one gets/appreciates is extremely endearing.

another amazing thing about this; sam actually gets to science with mckay and zelenka FOR ONCE. i’m really sad we were deprived this in season 4, like i get sam was the leader of the expedition in that season, and it wasn’t her job to be doing science/where is the time, but u can’t take the science out of the girl, no sir. i just wanted the beautiful mind children to be techno babbling it up, all with a begrudging respect for one another, as everyone stares in awe and confusion.

and cam gets to fly cool spaceships!!!! for leisure! with no one threatening his life! he did not get to do enough flying imo. and the teyla’s definitely deserve meditation time after dealing with double of their rambunctious team. and YES elizabeth deserves to have fUN. vala is the best person to help her with that. and vala and sheppard!!!! being buds!!! ALL I HAVE EVERY WANTED FROM STARGATE! what a fantastic ending to a wonderful series of episodes.

#dunno why i want them to hang out so badly? #maybe its because we never really saw it on the show? #because i think they would really hit it off? #or maybe its all of auburn’s fic imprinting on my brain in the most wonderful way (she always wrote their interactions so lovely). #anyway what an awesome series of episodes!! #this is everything i love about science fiction #it has no limitations #except the ones in our own imagination #the alternate universes #character interactions #use of aliens #absolutely inspired #thanks so much for this one #sg1 #sga #asks

[howlingday]

About Jaune ships...

I have opinions. You may not agree, but they are mine. They may change in time, but not now.

LANCASTER ( RUBY X JAUNE )

The old tried and true. I mean, what's not to like? Cute girl falls for first guy she meets at Beacon? Classic romance trope, and after reading how much Ruby loves romance stories (I consider certain parts in the manga canon), it makes sense. In fact, after Arkos sank (A moment of silence, please . . . Thank you), many moved to Lancaster, which isn't bad. Happens all the time in fandoms. Sad thing, though, is far I think she'll last. If we're talking Volume 5 or earlier, then maybe. However, I feel if Ruby were to have an endgame in romance, it would be RoseGarden (I have opinions on that as well, but today isn't the day to discuss that), mostly because Oscar bumped Jaune's role from male lead to male side. Not to mention that while Jaune is becoming a beast in his own right, Ruby is a different creature altogether and evolving her character more rapidly and chaotically than anyone else (Must be all that screentime).

TLDR: I want it to be canon, but I might just be hoping.

WHITE KNIGHT ( WEISS X JAUNE)

Doofus in tin foil meets princess who hates daddy (Am I in the romance section of the library? You know, the corner for adults only?) No, but I do like this ship. I'm always a sucker for the fantasy genre, and using a zero to hero male makes it relatable. I also kind of ship it because the same reason I ship NaruSaku in the Naruto fandom: he likes her and he's willing to go the distance. But enough about that; instead let's talk about canon. Will they hook up? It's a soft maybe for me, for two reasons. 1. Rosegarden is most likely to be endgame, and after Ruby and Pyrrha, I'd say Weiss is Jaune's next to be his love interest. 2. Weiss has warmed up to Jaune. Sure, not lover or crush level (Yet), but she's definitely changed her opinion on him. In Volume 1, Jaune was bugging her, like all the time, which I could see as him getting mixed signals on (Exhibit A: Tall, blonde, and scraggly). When Volume 5 came around, everyone jumped onboard because he saved her life (Don't lie, because I'll admit that I did it, too). Not the best reason, but still reason enough, I'd say. Then in Volume 7, she hangs out with him and Oscar to the movies (It was either that or awkward Bumbleby all night. I feel ya, sister). Nothing romantic happens, but it does show how much their relationship has developed. If Weiss is Jaune's endgame, then they have set the pieces up perfectly to do so.

TLDR: High likelihood to be canon and I'm a sucker for Knight/Princess ships.

KNIGHTSHADE ( BLAKE X JAUNE)

This is the part where I say definitely not. Not in a million years, but I'll explain why I like the ship, though. As for why it won't work, the answer is Bumbleby. They haven't kissed yet, but you know they're going to eventually (Because if they don't, the fans will attack like a swarm of hornets). But here's the question you might be asking now: why do I ship this? Well, it's part of the allure of "opposites attract" ('Cause I'm dressed like a cat!). Blake is an intelligent, outspoken, and agile ninja with a criminal history of terrorism who spends her free time reading novels. Jaune is a B at best on his tests, soft-hearted, and ground-based knight who's worst crime is fraud (Still a crime, but peanuts compared to literal terrorism) and spends his free time hanging out with his team. Day and night. But they also tried that with Sun for a season and a half and it didn't last (BECAUSE BEES).

TLDR: Not even a snowball's chance in the summer sun, but so much story potential if you do (Which I do)!

DRAGONSLAYER ( YANG X JAUNE )

This, I would say, is the opposite of Knightshade, where Jaune is the day and Blake is night, here Yang is the Sun and Jaune is the Moon (Like their crests! Remember those? Y'know, when they were relevant?) Will it work? Even less so than Knightshade. However, it does open up some interesting paths considering how... provocative Yang can be, and Jaune, compared to the other guys, is the nerdiest, geekiest dude at Beacon. It's like the cheerleader/nerd romance, except the cheerleader is the captain of every sports team... and rides a motorcycle. The Volume 8 preview introduced us to Yang and Jaune riding motorcycles and we went nuts over it. Yang was back in her element, roaring down the street, riding on walls, popping off tricks with Oscar riding- Back to what I was saying, people were asking, "How did he know how to ride a motorcycle?" and the elementary answer is "He didn't." He almost fell off his bike from a small box in the road. True, anyone would, but look at how he reacts: he stiffens, he refocuses on the road. This kid literally started riding at breakfast, and I DARE you to prove me wrong. But hey, great fic material right there, though, eh?

TLDR: Never gonna happen, but I don't care. All I care about is writing that they love each other. And they also fu-!

ARKOS ( PYRRHA X JAUNE )

I'm sorry, I need a moment. . . . Alright. Do it for her. This ship... was perfect. Probably the best ship out them all. I legit almost cry every time I think about Volume 3. Pyrrha was everyone's favorite. Her background, her interactions, her choreography, everything! But, of course, like everything in our lives, she was too good to be true. But let's honor her memory by talking about her ship, Arkos. Pyrrha was the champion of the world, the Brothers' and Oums' gift to Remnant. She could do no wrong and she HATED it. Her plight was with how she was seen. Everybody knew her! Everybody, except Jaune. And he only figured out she was "a big deal" was because Weiss had to spell it out for him! As time went on, they became the best of friends, two peas in a pod, the perfect odd couple! They worked together and trusted each other, they cared for and supported each other, they lo- No. No, I can't say it. It's been years, and it still hurts. So, I'll explain something else: the reason why Jaune SHOULD NOT be shipped right now. That reason is Pyrrha. Jaune was helpless to save her. He's suffering from survivor's guilt and he's still grieving. In Volume 4, he would sneak away and train until late at night to scroll recording of her. In Volume 5, he confronted Cinder and got Weiss almost killed because he let his grief for Pyrrha take control of him and let his emotions run wild. In Volume 6, he finds the Pyrrha statue and he... I don't know how to say this, but he let's go. He accepts that Pyrrha is gone and he's starting the healing process. He's finally ready to move forward.

TLDR: T.T I never felt that it was wise to wish too much~

MARTIAL ARCS ( REN X JAUNE)

I'll be honest, I don't really ship it. Yeah, it's cute, and it falls perfectly into the "if I had to pick a guy" part of me, but to be honest, I don't ship it. 10% because Renora and 90% it just doesn't click with me. They both just seem too soft, too quiet, too introverted. Best friends? Yes, definitely! But lovers? Eeeeeh, not really.

TLDR: I will only ship as neccessary.

NORA'S ARC ( NORA X JAUNE )

I've only just got in this deep with the fandom only recently, so I don't know if a lot of you know me. Heck, I'm probably just some RWBY fan you happen to spot as you move through your dash. However, old or new, I want to be made absolutely positively clear on this. Of all the ships here, this has got to be my-

O T FUDGIN' P

Wow! Never thought I'd feel so strongly about a crack ship like this. And yes, as sad it is to say, this is a crack ship. Renora was planned from day one, so it can't be helped. At least it didn't blast me in the face all of the sudden (OH NO, NOT THE BEES! AAAAARGH! THEY'RE IN MY EYES!). But why this ship? Well, for one thing, it's that whole opposites attract thing with Nora as the bubbly, outspoken, airhead powerhouse and Jaune as the soft spoken, introverted, nerd tactician. But wait, there's more to this trope, because it can go deeper: Order VS Chaos! Who makes all the messes? Who cleans up those messes? Who follows all the rules? Who makes their own doors? It's just. So. Damn! GOOD! One sad thing about this ship though is that it's not only not canon because of Renora, it's anti-canon because Renora. Every fan fic of Nora's Arc requires an explanation for Ren and Nora to not be together-together, like you have to write a formal apology to the FNDM for liking something that's different from what is canon or commonly accepted. If that's the case, then I'll be the anarchist here!

TLDR: I LOVE IT! What's that? Not canon? Who gives a damn?! I just explained why Jaune won't be shipped anyways! Now, if you'll excuse, I have some fan fics to find.

ARCFALL ( CINDER X JAUNE )

Oh, here it goes! Now, if we're talking ships that'll never happen, this is where we find better reasons than "it's not canon" and "character development". No, this... This is a declaration of war. Allow me to explain. Cinder Fall is evil. Like, down to her core. She wants power and she'll cut through anyone to get to it. Including Pyrrha. This woman sank Arkos by means other than "X and Y kissed, so..." She killed X, leaving Y alone. And her interactions with Jaune tell me she wouldn't even be worth a hate-bang. But, as Momma always, there's a thin line between love and hate. This is where the appeal comes in. Cinder is evil with no past, which leaves the previous chapter's of her life story blank to be filled in. Jaune is good with a troublesome, albeit easy past, but untapped potential for more. It's another opposites attract, but different from INTRO VS EXTRO and CHAOS VS ORDER; this is GOOD VS EVIL. Who will win this battle of wills; will our hero purify the tainted heart, or will he slip deeper into darkness, never to return to the light?

TLDR: Should be a NOTP, and yet the allure pulls me in.

What do y'all think? Do you agree? Let me know!

#rwby #jaune arc #my thoughts #jaune arc ships #ruby rose #ruby rose x jaune arc #weiss schnee #weiss schnee x jaune arc #whiteknight #white knight #knightshade #dragonslayer #bumbleby #blake belladonna #blake belladonna x jaune arc #yang xiao long #yang xiao long x jaune arc #yang xiao long x blake belladonna #pyrrha nikos #arkos #Pyrrha nikos x jaune arc #nora valkryie #nora's arc #nora valkyrie x lie ren #renora #nora valkyrie x jaune arc #arcfall #cinder fall #cinder fall x jaune arc

[jq37]

The Case File – Mice and Murder Ep 3

The Case of the Curious Clues

Before we start, a quick plea to Grant O’Brien: Please stop finding clues. I can only take notes so fast. You’re killing me Grant. Moving on...

We start off this episode with yet another flashback, this time to the final confrontation of Sly and his supposedly dead arch nemesis Fletcher Cottonbottom at Reichenbunny Falls (...Brennan please). Fletcher was using a local castle as a storage center for munitions but Sly tipped off the cops before they could be moved. They do some repartee back and forth before Fletcher, the madman, handcuffs them together and jumps off the edge. They hit the water but Sly is able to lockpick himself out and escape while Fletcher disappears beneath the waves. 

You know what I got from that story? No body.

Anyway, we jump back to the present where there *is* a body, Squire Badger’s specifically. Everyone in the room who isn’t a PC thinks that this must either be the work of ghosts or Mrs. M who was the only person in the room when it happened (allegedly). 

This is a crucial time for clue gathering and Brennan keeps everyone in initiative for investigative purposes. Now, *so much* stuff happens here that I’m not going to recap every single detail--just the major clues and the things that seem relevant. I’m serious, this is like the volume of info we usually get in the once per season later game lore dump ep but it’s episode THREE.

Daisy tries to find a secret door but critically fails. She clocks Gangie, a fellow criminal, and in the moment Rekha and Katie decide that they prob have worked together in the past even though they are very different kinds of criminals. 

Buck, who is outside listening to what’s going on in the room notices that his ankle knife is missing which is Concerning considering a man was just knifed to death. 

Sly has Lars guard the door (he opens it and Buck is discovered, whoops) and then rolls a NATURAL 20 plus NINE to investigate so Brennan just has to tell him literally everything. RIP to him and me. Anyway, here’s the rundown (along with some of the stuff other ppl got):

Mrs. M’s hands are covered in blood but she couldn’t have done it. Based on her personality for one and for other reasons we’ll get to.

The wound is much messier than it would be if a person stabbed themselves typically.

There is a note in Squire Badger’s handwriting that says “Sylvester Cross I am afraid” No indication of if that was the whole message or if he got interrupted (maybe Buck could figure it out with his handwriting checking skills). Daisy from across the room clocks that Sly’s name is written on the paper but can’t read the rest.

The knife is a hunting knife with a pronghorn handle--an animal not common in England but very common in Texas (and Buck is sweating obv).

There is a slight layer of charcoal type dust on everything on the big resolute desk in the room (which makes sense, ash from the fireplace) but there is parchment type dust on the bust of Barkus Aurelius (OK, that one’s good) on the table and that’s the only place that dust is. Ian later notices that the date on the bust is wrong. 

Speaking of, the desk (which we learn later was put in and taken out of storage once Loan Hall was modernized) is bolted to the ground and a lot of stuff has been thrown off it as if by a powerful force but Sly notices that it’s just the metal stuff like things made of silver or with screws. Stone things like the bust and other non-metal things have stayed put. Plus he smells ozone. This was the work of magnets, not ghosts, he concludes. And, for the record, Grant figured this out himself!

Mrs. M’s eyes are rapidly dilating. She is questioned about what happened and she says that she was told she was fired and would receive a small pension. 

(Not a part of Sly’s clue dump but Buck rolls a 24 with disadvantage to persuade everyone he didn’t do it but then 2 nat 1s in a row to see if Harding--who said he was standing outside the door--is suspect. Buck thinks he’s at most a stooge but he did roll a nat 1 so who knows?)

Anyway, back to Mrs. M. Gangie fully believes Mrs. M is innocent and scared. She doesn’t quite remember what happened for a couple of seconds in there and it’s clear this is not the first time she’s had missing time. Sly calls Longfoot (the bunny photographer) over to take a picture of Mrs. M which everyone is a little appalled at until they realize he’s making a point. When the flash goes off, she bugs out like she did in episode 1 and forgets that the picture was ever taken. Sly then has Dr. Magpie list the symptoms of epilepsy. It seems that Mrs. M had an episode triggered by the flash she mentioned seeing and then lost time. It’s possible that what she thought she saw after that she didn’t actually see.

[While Sly is monologuing this Rekha texts Brennan and gets a 17 to swipe the “I am afraid” note. Sly doesn’t notice.]

So if it wasn’t her, then who was it? There’s only one door into the study and anyone who walked in would have to have walked past Mr. Harding, Shellcrest, Calliope, and Tabitha (who is having a marvelous time being in the midst of so much drama). Ah, but who said there was only one door? Sly has Harding pull a sconce and a SECRET DOOR OPENS! Woo! Finally! It’s a classic bookshelf one that opens into the hallway and there is some extremely fine crushed glass under the door. Hmm.

Sly clocks that there is something under the desk but we don’t know what it is because Brennan texts it to him and it’s redacted. There are actually a couple of redacted texts that go around this ep so we are def missing information. 

OK, that’s more or less everything. 

Sly notices that the page is missing and Grant gasps while Rekha does an excellent job of pretending like she doesn’t even remember what paper is being talked about. Constance asks if it’s possible that Mrs. M totally made up the memory because of her epilepsy and between Dr. Magpie and Sly they determine that that’s uncommon but possible. Dr. Magpie says that everyone should leave so he and Sly can examine the body and Sly says that someone should watch Gangie at all times. 

At this point, Harding and Gilfoyle (the butler) say they should establish where everyone was at the time of the murder. A lot of the staff and guests have solid alibis cause they were in big groups/cleaning up together. But the PCs were off alone (or with each other) and had reasons to want to guy dead so they’re prime suspects. Sly even admits that he’s one too. Also everyone dogpiles Ian because Raph makes it so fun. 

Harding mentions the letter that was given to Buck (the one selling his shares in BB and giving voting writes to his rival Josiah) and asks him to read it. Buck reads it and gives a streamlined version of the truth, saying everything except for the part with the proxy vote. With a 26 he is able to allay everyone’s suspicions for now, but now he’s purposefully hidden the truth in a way that can be readily called out if anyone sees the letter or the contract which he resolves to find. 

Buster distracts the group so Daisy can “check the body for a pulse” aka: check the body for the contract. She doesn’t find a it but does find a key attached to a piece of red silk--something that would be weird for him to be carrying around instead of his valet. She figures this must open whatever locked drawer the contract is in and swipes it but Sly clocks her stealing it (his perception ties her sleathiness but an earlier Bless from Ian tips him over the edge--poetic).  

Calliope says that everyone is kinds suspect, including Sly, but *someone* has to solve this and Sly’s their best bet so everyone should just stay put and they can guard the exits. The butler says that, besides the front door, there are some towers that poke up above ground and a servant's exit/entrance by the elevator in the kitchen wing but they can lock down both and have someone guard the front doors. 

The butler is like, lmao yeah Sly I know you didn’t do it and I’m not gonna stand guard here but you know, everyone is keeping an eye on y’all. And then he leaves the PCs, Mrs. M, Constance, and Dr. Magpie in the room with the body. 

Lars is about to go watch the kitchen staff but, before he goes, Sly says to him that he saw Cottonbottom and is obviously quite scared. Gangie, who used to work for the guy, overhears and asks what’s going on. Sly assumes Gangie is playing coy but rolls high enough to know that he isn’t. He saw a starkly white Cottonbottom and one of his known conspirators doesn’t know he’s back? Perhaps it was a ghost after all. 

Case Notes

My 2 fave bits of this episode were “bad to bad bad bad” (and the further riffing) and Daisy throwing increasingly bigger books at Sly.

Even with a Nat 1, Sly gets a 16 on Investigation. Wild. 

I don’t think Rekha got enough props for her “Cross examination” line so I’m mentioning it here.

Brennan said the ozone question was still open--but I assumed it was like the electricity smell from an electromagnet. That would make sense, right? Maybe he meant they hadn’t found the source of it specifically yet?

Brennan says Buck’s knife is a pronghorn knife. I assume they’re made from the animal’s horns? Even if they’re the kind that fall off every season, is that weird? Or is it just like human hair wigs? Also, does this world have leather?

I love that the dice keep supporting the narrative that Daisy simply cannot get her shit together when she’s with Sly because he distracts her too much. Delicious. Their whole relationship is delicious. 

OK, I am a tiny bit suspicious of Calliope. It’s partially the way she took control of the situation near the end and partially the fact that she doesn’t seem like the kind of person who would be involved in this which would make her heel turn delicious. No hard evidence and obv she couldn’t be the person who actually stabbed a guy but idk. Just spitballing. I’m very curious about whether we’ve met everyone we’re going to meet more or less or if there are still outside people/hidden inside people. Because, in real life, a murderer could be literally anyone but in a story, you can’t just introduce a new villain all of a sudden at the end. Bad storytelling. Weak payoff. We’ll see how things start to pan out. 

#dimension 20 #dimension 20 spoilers #mice and murder #mice and murder spoilers #the case file

[landonkirbyappreciation]

Hi so I'm back with more thoughts/theories about Landon Kirby.

So this kinda bugged me a little bit idk if it bugged anyone else or not. But you know how we got a tiny bit of a backstory for Finch and a whole backstory for Cleo. Yet we still don't know anything about any other character in show(excluding Hope and the twins). We don't know how Jeb actived his wolf side. We don't know how Kaleb and MG became vampires. I mean they teased us about finding out how Kaleb became a vampire. But what bugged me a bit is the fact that we know more about Cleos past(a character who just showed up) than we do about Landons past(a main character who's been there since s1). The only things we know about his past is that he was in terrible foster homes and we only know two things that happened to him, that he was locked in a closet, probably more than once. And that he was burned with cigarettes. And that he was bullied. Other than that we know nothing about his past. We don't know where he was born, hell we don't even know when his birthday is. We don't know how he got his last name. Was it the last name of whoever found him? Was it just a random last name the government pick for him? We don't know how he got into music and sy/fy etc. I mean we're almost on s4 and still don't know anything about Landons past. And I think now would be the perfect time to give us more info on his past.

Which lead me to this theory/wish they'll do something like this. So you know how in s4 of TO when Hayley went into Elijahs mind. I'm think(and wish) they'll do something like that with Hope and Landon. Like Hope does a head dive into Landons mind to make sure he's still in there or maybe to see if he's in pain or something like that. Anyways she goes into his mind and she ends up in hallway filled with doors. Each door leads to a different memory. And that's how we'll learn more about his past and we can also see what Landon went through in s3.

But I also thought it would be fun if they did a twist on that. Like when Hope dives into Landons mind, she also ends up in malivores as well. Like one side of the hallway is Landons memories and the other side is malivores memories. So not only will we be learning more about Landon, we can also learn a little bit more about malivore as well.

Any thoughts???

Hi! Yeah, that bugs me as well. Like it’s great that we got to learn about Finch’s and Cleo’s backstories and see flashbacks of them, but why on earth have they not done anything for the rest of the characters??

Exactly, Finch and Cleo just got here and yet we know more about their pasts than we do about the main male characters after 3 seasons! They’ve had that long to show their backstories, so many opportunities, and they’ve done nothing. To the point that if they get into it now, at least with MG and Kaleb and Jed, it’s gonna be awkward because why did it take so long to find out? Although yeah, they did tease about it this last season, but still didn’t do anything. They literally had perfect opportunities too. Ethan and MG were talking about vampire stuff, and I seriously thought we were about to finally have MG explain how he became a vampire, and then they cut off the scene. It’s like a joke at this point. Same with Kaleb saying whatever vague thing he said (can’t exactly remember) about whoever turned him. Again, perfect opportunity to explain that, but no. And Jed is just there, with even less of a storyline than MG and Kaleb, despite also being a main, and of course we still know nothing about his past either or who he killed and how he triggered his werewolf curse. And so true, we still barely know anything about Landon’s past, just the basics, as well as Raf (I know he’s not on the show anymore, but still). All they’ve done for them is mention some stuff, just general ideas about how they were treated and abused. We got like a 5 second flashback of Landon in a closet, and we briefly saw Raf having that dream about his abusive foster parent. That’s it. And yet we didn’t have to wait long at all for an episode focusing on Finch’s backstory and another episode focusing on Cleo’s backstory, flashbacks included. I just... why?? I really don’t understand. I feel like season 1 should’ve been more about exploring and developing the characters and their backstories when they were first being introduced. But they got into all the monsters and the Malivore plotline so quickly and that became the priority, and it still is after all this time. They’ll put more effort into a monster that’ll be dead by the end of an episode than they have with characters that have been here for years. And that’s one of the reasons why the writing feels so weak at times imo.

And sorry to go off about that, but anyways, yes, there’s seriously so much about Landon we still don’t know! I wanna know the details of what his life was like growing up, and the extent of the abuse he went through because they’ve never gone into that much, like you said, besides him being locked in closets and burned with cigarettes. But ugh, yeah they can’t even tell us his birthday or where he was born. That was one of the questions Hope asked him in 1x05 and we still never found out, not even in the episode with Seylah. And I’ve wondered about his last name as well, though I’m guessing it was just random, but I still wanna know. And yes! I’ve thought about those things too! How did Landon get into all the movies and things that he loves while in foster care? How did he learn to play the guitar? And ikr! Like he’s the male lead! And we still know hardly anything about his past.

And I completely agree about now being the best time to show more about Landon’s past. They now have the perfect reason to go into his mind and show his memories. Oh yes, that same hallway of doors idea was talked about in a Handon Weekly episode too, and it’s crossed my mind as well, I’d love to see that. I’ve always thought that was such a cool way to show someone’s mind and all the different memories, so if they did that with Landon it would be so good! Though I do wonder if that was more specific to Elijah’s mind. And if Esther creating the red door maybe led to other doors within his mind being created to hold other memories? Idk, but either way, I’d absolutely love something like that with Landon. And for Hope to be going through his different memories, from his childhood, and also seeing what happened to him in the prison world, how he got possessed, what all has been happening since he got possessed, etc. But ooh that’s a cool idea about Hope being able to reach part of Malivore’s mind as well, it would make sense if she could. And yes, it would be a great way to learn more about Malivore, so that would be really interesting. Hopefully they do something like this, because Hope going into Landon’s mind to make sure he’s still there and to see what state he’s in and try to help him would be the obvious next step that she would take. And it would be such a natural way for them to show Landon’s memories, it would all make so much sense for the story at this point. But I can just see them wasting this opportunity tbh. It’s one of the things I’m most worried about in the coming episodes. And what also sucks is that it’s already been done, and we’ve still gotta wait like 2 more months to find out.

#answered #landon kirby

[hibisha]

Hello, a friend of yours said you might be able to recommend some radiodust fanfics, and it can be anything im not picky

RadioDust fanfics you say? Alright *cracks knuckles* here we go.

1.) The Charismatic Cannibal’s Guide to Self Care

Rating: E

Summary: Alastor chuckled around a hand. Angel would never get over how shark-like he could look. Fangs were the norm here, but Alastor’s had a certain animal quality that fit strangely in a humanoid face. Too big and too many. And right now they were tinged with a hint of red from his choice of drink.

“So what,” he said, “would liven up the place for you, sport?”

You might assume that Angel Dust is the bad influence in every situation. You would be wrong.

The Radio Demon has plans for Hell, and plans for Angel. And they aren't pretty.

Will contain gore/cannibalism/murder and plenty of fun, bad people. Please read the tags and content warning. Plot now, smut to follow.

Personal thoughts: It only one chapter so far but I really like the premise.

2.) Their Arrangement

Rating: E

Summary: Alastor and Angel Dust have come to an agreement after Angel pushes the Radio Demon's buttons a little too far and inadvertently awakens the long forgotten urges buried under decades of bloodlust.

Personal thoughts: One of my literal favorites. Alastor and Angel’s evolving relationship from sex friends to ‘oh shit I have feelings’ *chef’s kiss*.

3.) Absolute Territory

Rating: E

Summary: Angel Dust is an absolute terror for Absolute Territory.

Alastor never knew he had a thing for stockings until Angel decides to flaunt a pair, matched with a pleated skirt and an oversized sweatshirt.

Personal thoughts: Have some good ol’ smut.

4.) Heart Between His Teeth

Rating: E

Summary: So maybe there are better things to life than being drugged and fucked so hard you can't even think for yourself.

Personal thoughts: OMFG. I CAN NOT STRESS ENOUGH HOW MUCH I LOVE THIS FIC.

5.) Angel Dust’s Not So Illustrious Life

Rating: T

Summary: Alastor isn’t sure why he’s become Angel’s primary target, but the more he attempts to dissuade Angel’s advances, the more fervent they seem to become.

And maybe Alastor likes that...maybe...Yet it seems there’s more to Angel than innuendos and a quick romp.

Personal thoughts: I kinda love this fic a lot where Angel and Alastor respect each other’s boundaries.

6.) Caught In His Own Web

Rated:E

Summary: "So when the devil wants to dance with you, you better say never. Because the dance with the devil might last you forever."

Redemption is hard when you don't want to do it. Redemption is even harder when a certain Radio Demon keeps enabling your sinful behavior.

Personal thoughts: My favourite trope, bad people being worse together.

7.) I Thought I Knew You 

Rated: M

Summary: Angel Dust can't ruin the hotel's reputation if he can't go outside. Or, at least, that's what Alastor says. Of course, it's all a ploy to torture Alastor's least favorite spider demon, but maybe he doesn't know Angel Dust as well as he thinks he does.

Personal thoughts: I really like this one especially since it feeds into my “Alastor is a dick in all AUs.”

8.) Sex, drugs and radio host

Rating: E

Summary: For some ungodly reason, Alastor decides to keep Angel safe and sound - meaning no sex, prostitution and certainly no drugs. Of course, this wild idea is met with more than a little resistance. But... no one ever cared if Angel was safe. And sometimes, all he would like is a hug. Sex sure is nice, but he is more than willing to explore the possibilities.

The trouble is, it doesn't seem like Alastor is offering anything specific. Keeping things strange and vague is not helping, especially when a new guest catches Alastor's attention.

Personal thoughts: Its cute and theres feelings involved is all I’m saying.

9.) Gentleman's Wager 

Rating: None

Summary: Sick of listening to Angel Dust's crass and vulgar language, Alastor makes a bet with him. If Angel Dust can remain absolutely silent for one whole week, he'll give in and kiss him.

Personal thoughts: *inhales* JVKJGCHJCHJCVJHVJHGCJHCJHCGFD I LOVE THIS SO MUCH PLEASE READ IT.

10.) Triggered 

Rating: None

Summary: Angel Dust had never really thought too much about the static hum surrounding Alastor wherever he went... until now anyway.

Personal thoughts: It's a very good fic about ANgel dealing with PTSD. Def check it out.

11.) Dinner and Drinks 

Rating: None

Summary: Alastor and Angel Dust can barely tolerate each other and Charlie seeks to fix that.

Personal thoughts: Again, a slow development of Angel and Alastor’s relationship.

12.) You Do Something to Me 

Rating: T

Summary: Alastor's radio signals go both ways, and for the past few decades he's tuned into the most beautiful voice. What a surprise to find the source in the Happy Hotel right under his nose.

A relationship that grows through music.

Personal thoughts: AGAIN, PLEASE READ THIS IT IS CUTE HECK AND WILL CLEAR YOUR SKIN. Also, its part 2: No One Knows Anything But Us 

13.) 1932

Rating: M

Summary: The 1930s are the for perfect time to nurture any up-and-coming radio host or serial killer alike. Alastor is no exception.

Set in New Orleans in 1932, Alastor is living his best life. Broadcaster by day and home chef by night, he's learned that Jumbalaya is best served with a side of human liver and a still beating heart. That is until he brings the wrong meal to his table, a member of the Italian mafia, and ends up biting off more than he can chew.

With his latest meal escaping the table and his identity running the risk of being found out, Alastor faces his biggest hunt yet. The streets of New Orleans are his forest and this time, it's his head on the platter.

AKA Alastor screws up and now has to fix his mess in Dixieland while balancing his day job, cannibalistic hunger, and learn how to be a decent human being for once along the way. Should be fun.

Personal thoughts: I absolutely adore this fic. Please give it a shot.

14.) Contracts and Deals Series

Rating: E

Summary: Angel Dust, Hell's number one porn actor.

Alastor, Hell's most renowned overlord.

The two cross paths.

Angel makes a deal with Alastor to get out of his contract with Valentino. One thing leads to another.

Personal thoughts: It’s a good series that eventually gets really fluffy.

15.) Good Management

Rating: M

Summary: Alastor thought he had Angel Dust filed away into his niche box in the Hotel. He was wrong. But he's a good enough manager to fix his responsibilities.

Personal thoughts: Its AngeliaDark. You know it’s good.

16.) Anything for you

Rating: M

Summary: Valentino faces the consequences of hurting someone that Alastor deeply favors

i.e. Val fucking dies

Personal thoughts: Any fic where Val dies is a good fic.

17.) Predator and Prey

Rating: M

Summary: Every couple of years, Angel Dust goes through a change that makes him a lot less tolerable to be around, for many more reasons than one. The staff of the Hotel are about to learn that the hard way, none more so than Alastor.

Personal thoughts: Okay so, slight dubcon, would recommend checking the tags before going into it. Though I love how it tackles on the story of Alastor being a deer which is technically a prey animal and Angel being the predator for once. Absolutely love it.

18.) Good Tidings 

Rating: T

Summary: A Christmas party in Hell isn't the big selling point for the Happy Hotel (For Hazbins), but Charlie feels that the holiday season is just what her friends need to open up to and help one another.

So what better way to do it than with a Secret Santa?

When Angel Dust draws none other than his crush, the Radio Demon, he knows he has one shot to not eff it up.

Personal thoughts: Really fluffy, a good read. Highly recommend it.

19.) Vanilla Bean

Rating: T

Summary: Alastor decides to try his hand at pet names and inadvertently offends Angel Dust. Rated T for swearing and there's suggestive content if you close one eye, tilt your head, and squint.

Personal thoughts: Okay so i loved this one because of how badly these two handle communication.

20.) For Auld Lang Syne, My Dear

Rating: M

Summary: Alastor's solitude is interrupted by Angel Dust who has just escaped a rough client and the two spend the last moments of 2019 together.

Personal thoughts: Love love love this. I just love Angel and Alastor dancing together okay.

21.) I Like It Better When I'm With You 

 Rating: M

Summary: Angel deals with feelings. Alastor deals with feelings. Just a whole lot of pining.

Personal thoughts: Summary says it all.

22.) Technical Difficulties

Rating: M

Summary: The hotel is running relatively well. Relationships between Alastor and the rest of the staff are budding surprisingly smoothly. And then the rainfall starts up, threatening all of it.

Alastor's out of tune.

Personal thoughts: I love how this is written. Slowburn but worth it.

23.) Lurking in the Shadows 

Rated M

Summary: 5 instances where a curious and head-over-heels shadow follows Angel Dust around and 1 time where Angel decides to follow it instead.

Personal thoughts: It’s very cute how Alastor’s shadow pines after Angel.

24.) Crossroads

Rating: M

Summary: A mafioso’s and a murderous radio star’s paths collide in New Orleans in the winter of 1933.

Personal thoughts: OKAY SO I REALLY LOVE THIS BECAUSE HUMAN AUS ARE MY JAM AND THEN ALASTOR AND ANGEL BEING TERRIBLE HUMANS TOGETHER IS EVEN BETTER.

25.) Needle Through a Bug

Rating: E

Summary: Angel wakes up in a hospital after a party. His doctor is very strange, worryingly so. Still, he can't help but be intrigued.

Personal thoughts: Doctor AU. Alastor is insane. I love it because Alastor manages to be as creepy as possible while saving lives.

26.) My Roommate's a Demonic Deer 

 Rating: M

Summary: Don't you hate it when you "accidentally" summon a demon to fix a problem within your home, only to find out that they don't do that, so now you're stuck with a cannibalistic demon that constantly tracks blood onto the floor, brings other unholy beings into your apartment, and makes amazing jambalaya? It's amazing insanity!

Personal thoughts: Lmao I love demon summoning gone wrong so this was really an amazing read. Angel being a true himbo is always the best.

27.) Human Hazbin Roommates AU series

Rating: E, M

Summary: A series of porny RadioDust one-shots depicting modern human AU roommate life.

Notes:

Glimpses into the human lives of insufferable roommates.

(AKA This was supposed to be a practice at writing present tense smut and it devolved into sex and feelings)

Personal thoughts: Dive in for the smut, come out with the feels.

28: Darker Side of Hell series

Rating: E

Summary: Follow Charlie and later Alastor as part of my Story for the Hazbin hotel... It ain't pretty, so enjoy!

Personal thoughts: Not everyone’s cup of tea so i suggest reading the tags but I really love this series a lot. Angel being awkward and in love is the best shit ever. Its an amazing series.

29.) Scorched, Uninhabited, Rejected

Rating: M

Summary: When Hell suddenly loses all working functions, and angels start dropping from their overhead perches to attack the underworlds population, Charlie has no idea what to do before she's suddenly face to face with a Archangel. Though something, clearly, isn't right about the air the angel assures her to keep those who are dear tucked tightly by her side as the disaster struggles to fix itself.

But nothing is as it seems, Overlords' powers are dwindling and even her own is becoming strained as she struggles to protect her beloved hotel and friends from the Exterminators outside.

Personal thoughts: *vibrates* Can’t say much without spoilers so I’m just gonna beg ya all to read this.

30.) The Thin Line

Rating: None

Summary: Studies say it takes fifty hours of interaction before you consider someone a casual friend and two hundred to be a close friend. Alastor and Angel Dust manage to skip right past close friends to something more without either even noticing they've crossed the line.

31.) La Vie En Rose

Rating: G

Summary: Alastor learns that Angel is afraid of thunderstorms, and Angel in turn learns about the Radio Demon.

32.) falling 

Rating: M

Summary: "You're hot as fuck, be my boyfriend."

That was perhaps the worst thing he could've possibly said from that standpoint.

A college setting where Angel gets suddenly awful at flirting when it comes to the face of his crush, a cute library assistant that goes by Alastor.

Personal thoughts: COLLEGE AU COLLEGE AU. 

33.) Old Habits Die Hard

Rating: G

Summary: Angel decides to bring back a little habit of his after having a rough time.

Personal thoughts: Hella soft, please read.

34.) Handwritten 

Rating: None

Summary: Alastor imagines Angel must be lonely in heaven, he writes to keep him company.

 A series of letters addressed to Angel.

Personal thoughts: Hi, do you like crying into your pillow at 2 AM? You do? The look no further, this is the fic for you! Now, with extra heart wrenching feels!

35.) Relapse and Recovery

Rating: T

Summary: Going clean was never going to be easy, but easy was something Angel Dust never expected going into this anyway. At least he has a good support system to help him along the way.

Personal thoughts: I just really like AngeliaDark’s fics okay.

36.) Catalyst

Rating: T

Summary: All couples have their downfalls, and an event that should have been celebrated only drives Alastor and Angel Dust apart.

Personal thoughts: Love love love this. It’s very well written, reads easy and you’ll feel fluffy for days.

37.) Dinner Date: A RadioDust Tale

Rating: E

Summary: Angel Dust finally finds a way to get Alastor to agree to a 'date'. After all, the way to a man's heart is through his stomach.

Sometimes literally.

Personal thoughts: One of my favourite stories about RadioDust.

38.) This One's Dedicated to [static interruption]

Rating: M

Summary: A couple of years since the hotel's opening, the residents have settled down into a fairly tolerable routine. Recently, some of them have begun experiencing peculiar symptoms which become more noticeable as time passes. To his dismay, the Radio Demon finds that he is not immune.

A chance encounter with Angel Dust propels the two demons together as they attempt to answer what's behind the unusual phenomena, while rediscovering all the things they thought dead and buried along the way.

Personal thoughts: Slowburn but definitely worth it. I love the story and how it’s progressing with a certain mystery surrounding the whole plot.

Also slight self plug I guess:

39.) 14 ways to say “I Love You”

Rating: T

Summary: Just a collection of small drabbles I’m writing on based on single word prompts.

Please check it out if you’re a fan of odd AUs.

Wowee, that’s a lot. I’m gonna call it a night and say that’s all for today. I hope you enjoy these! 

#hazbin hotel #radiodust #alastor #angel dust #fic rec #ask

[the-wild-wolves-around-you]

Carry Me Home (A Din Djarin/Reader Fic)

Summary: Din and Reader find themselves on a jungle planet hunting a bounty, but nothing goes as planned, and secrets are shared.

***Based off this line from a previous fic in this series: "Then the mysterious bounty hunter told you his name one day when you were trying to hold his femoral artery together with nothing but bacta gel and hope."

No spoilers. Set in Season 1 between Episode 6 (The Prisoner) & Episode 7 (The Reckoning)

Pairings: Din Djarin/Reader; Din Djarin/You

Rating: M(ature)

Warnings: Blood, gore, & violence. Brief mentions of past slavery. 

A/N: In true Star Wars fashion, I'm just writing shit out of order lol. But the idea for this fic kept bugging me, so i just had to get it out on the page. 

You don't need to read the previous fics to understand this one, though (since the others are set in s2.) I have some more ideas for out of order stories, too, so I'll most likely be continuing this series.But let me know if you'd be interested in a fic from Din's POV! I think that could be fun, but if y'all are digging Reader POV, I'll stick to that.

And in case anyone cares, the title is taken from the lyrics of Arcade by Duncan Lawrence, which I was listening to on repeat as I wrote this. 

As always, I’ve posted this piece on Ao3, but I’ll paste the text below. 

Ao3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28763814

I’ll also include the links to the other two fics here: 

The Sea Like Glass Ch 1: Here

The Sea Like Glass Ch 2 (includes smut): Here

“Dank farrik!” you hissed as the wire in front of you sparked and sent a jolt of electricity through your already singed fingers. Not for the first time, you wished you could wear your gloves, but some of the pieces that needed repairing were too small to feel through the bulky material, so you could do nothing more than sacrifice your flesh for the cause.

Didn’t make it hurt less, though. You sucked the smarting tips into your mouth, glaring at the trashed circuit board in front of you, but the ruined hardware only crackled in response.

If you were back in Hanger 3-5 in Mos Eisley, you would have probably trashed the whole part and dug through Peli’s stock for a replacement, or gone down to the market and haggled for something newer, but you weren’t on Tatooine. You were smack dab in the middle of a jungle planetoid you couldn’t remember the name of, and it was up to you to get the Razor Crest running again on what you had available.

Which, admittedly, wasn’t a lot.

You sighed as you sat back on your haunches, using the back of your wrist to swipe at the sweat trailing down your temple. The pre-Empire ship towered over you as you dug into her innards, having pried off one of the semi-melted lower side panels to access the appropriate circuits. Your thin tank top was already drenched, and the hair sticking to the back of your neck kept giving you phantom itches. You wanted nothing more than to tie it up completely, but you always felt naked when your nape was exposed. You weren’t necessarily ashamed of the scar there, or the past connected to it, since it wasn’t your fault you were born into shackles, but… still. It was a… personal story to tell, and you weren’t sure you were ready to share it with your new boss.

Well, “new” was relative. You’d been employed on the Razor Crest for several months now, but you didn’t know much more about the Mandalorian than you did when you’d first set foot onto his ship. You knew he was a bounty hunter, from a race of legendary warriors. You knew he had a partially sordid, and dangerous, past if your encounter with Ran and his crew of mercenaries was any indication. You knew the green baby was his ward, or foundling as he called it, and Mando was tasked with returning the little guy to his people. And you knew his Creed forbid him from removing his helmet.

That was about it. The Mandalorian didn’t talk much, but it didn’t particularly bother you. You’d always been a quieter person, and after years of Peli’s constant chattering, you were kind of relieved for the silence.

Most of the time, anyway.

“How’s it looking?”

You gasped in alarm, jolting yourself off balance and falling back onto your ass in the dirt.

“Maker, Mando,” you panted as you craned your neck back to stare up at the bounty hunter. “What have I told you about sneaking up on me when I’m working on electrics?”

The impervious mask of the Mandalorian stared down at you silently, blotting out the sweltering sun and providing you a modicum of relief. A moment passed, then two, and you shifted uneasily under his unblinking gaze.

“I thought you heard me approach,” he said finally, his modulated voice flat and unaffected, but he didn’t move from where he was looming over you.

“Well, I didn’t,” you grumbled as you flopped your head forward and popped your neck, stretching your legs out in the dirt.

The tight leggings you wore ended not too far past your knees, so your shins were streaked with the red soil of this planetoid. The dirt didn’t bother you, but the heat sure did. It was different than Tatooine’s dry desert. This heat was oppressive, stifling, almost cloying, and every time you took a deep breath, a small part of your brain panicked, images of drowning flashing through your mind even though you knew it was irrational. You were just grateful your clothes didn’t look a fraction as hot as the Mandalorian’s all black get-up and what had to be twenty-five kilos of armor.

“So,” the bounty hunter said after a few more moments of silence, interrupted only by the call of exotic birds in the canopy, “how are things looking?”

“Honestly?” you sighed as you pushed yourself off the ground, dusting the red dirt off your hands but not even bothering with your pants. “Not good. The bounty’s guns must have grazed us when we were still outside orbit, and entering the atmosphere certainly didn’t help matters. Some of the side paneling has been melted beyond repair, and a lot of the wiring is fried, too.”

“Can you get it flying?” Mando asked, crossing his arms over his chest and making his silhouette all the more imposing. The sun glinted off his silver beskar, and you squinted in the glare.

“Maybe.” You pursed your lips and averted your gaze, turning back to stare at the charred panels and sparking wires. Sweat trickled down your neck, and you reached back to cup your nape, feeling the bounty hunter’s eyes on you.

“Didn’t know I was paying you for maybes.”

“You’re not paying me at all if you can’t even catch that quarry,” you snorted before your brain could catch up to your mouth.

You froze when the words finally registered, nails digging into the back of your neck. Stupid. Your mouth always did get the better of you. You used to mouth-off to your former owner until he backhanded you into silence, and now you’re starting shit with a bounty hunter you’d seen kill half a dozen men in just as many seconds.

Stupid.

You waited for Mando to say something, staring at the Razor Crest without even seeing it, and even if you didn’t really believe he’d hurt you for a simple off-handed comment, your body didn’t get the message. Muscle memory was a hard thing to forget, and every fiber in you braced for the blow.

The birds chittered in the towering blue-green canopy above your head as sweat poured from every single one of your pores, and you were just about to come out of your skin when the Mandalorian finally spoke.

“Well, to catch the quarry, I need my ship to fly,” he said, and when you chanced a glance over your shoulder, you discovered he’d somehow moved further away from you, like he took several steps back.

Was he… giving you space?

His tone was still flat, but after several months spent in close proximity with the bounty hunter, you were now able to parse out several different minor inflections in his modulated voice. You were by no means an expert, but you knew for a fact he didn’t sound angry in this moment. When he was angry, his voice took on a softer, menacing quality. The few times you’d heard it—thankfully never directed at you—every hair on your body stood on end, and the lizard part of your brain had screamed to run and not stop running until you were in a completely different star system.

This wasn’t anger. This was… something else. You almost wanted to say… amusement, but that would have been crazy.

Still, the tension bled out of your shoulders like sand through a sieve, and you dropped your arms as you turned to face the Mandalorian fully again.

“Alright, this is the best I can do,” you said. “I can get her flying again, I think I can even get her shielded enough to withstand leaving the atmosphere when we’re done here, but it’s gonna take some time.”

“How much time?” he asked.

You glanced over your shoulder again at the damage, did some calculations in your head, and added some padding to give yourself a margin for error. Then you turned back to the bounty hunter.

“At least two days,” you replied, confident in your abilities. “Anything less, and we risk blowing ourselves to the Inner Core and back when I go to start her up.”

“Hmm.” Mando stared at you for a moment and then shifted to gaze into the jungle. “The bounty will most likely be off planet by then.”

“I don’t think so,” you contradicted him, and your heart actually skipped a beat when the T of his visor turned to look at you. There was something nerve-wracking about staring into the dark, reflective glass, but then you noticed your red-streaked appearance, and you cringed self-consciously as you looked away.

“Why do you say that?” he asked.

“Because,” you started, stooping down to pick up the tablet beside your tool bag, “when I first came out here and saw the damage, I was afraid we’d end up in this situation. But then I remembered that the quarry’s ship took more damage than we did in our little space battle. I know for a fact we landed at least one solid hit, I saw it myself.”

“And?”

“Well,” you said as you tapped at the screen, “given the make and model of his vessel, and the location of where we struck the ship, I was able to deduce that we most likely damaged his engines. If his engines are damaged, then there is a maximum distance he could have gone before he would have been forced to land, or even crash landed. With all this information, plus the fact that I knew the general location of where we lost visual of him when we entered the atmosphere, I’ve estimated the quarry can’t be farther than five klicks from our current coordinates. And with his entry trajectory, he’s most likely in this triangulated area three and a half klicks to the west, which should be easily reachable on foot.”

You turned the map on the tablet to face the Mandalorian, and he stepped forward to take the device from you. His gloved fingers brushed across your singed ones, remnant electricity shooting through your veins, and you stifled a flinch as you dropped your arm.

Mando studied the map for a long moment, cocking his head and zooming in to get a better look. You shifted uneasily in the silence, scuffing the tip of your boot into the red soil, but then the bounty hunter finally looked back up at you.

“When did you have time to do this?” he asked, and he actually sounded… impressed. “You were out here for less than ten minutes after we landed.”

“It wasn’t that hard.” You shrugged as your cheeks flushed with heat, but you blamed the sweltering sun overhead and the soup-like air.

“I didn’t realize you were so good with numbers,” he said, his helmet staring directly at you.

“Numbers are easy,” you replied, shrugging again as you raised your hand to chew nervously on your nails, but you stopped yourself when you saw the crimson dirt still caked on your skin. “They don’t lie, once you understand the rules.”

“Did Peli teach you how to do this?” he inquired, and you were surprised by all these questions. Most of the time, the bounty hunter asked you one-or-two-word questions and expected one-or-two-word answers. You couldn’t figure out why this situation was any different, but you found yourself responding anyway.

“Partially,” you explained, and you wondered how you could phrase your answer to be vague but satisfactory. “She… taught me a lot of the specifics for bigger jobs like ships and larger machines, but I’ve always been good at numbers and tinkering.”

That seemed good enough. You didn’t think it was relevant that you first started tinkering because your former owner used to lock you in his shop’s basement with broken droids when you misbehaved, and putting the discarded machines back together kept you from going crazy when your punishments lasted days. You also didn’t think it relevant that when your former owner found out and realized he could profit off your skills, you fine-tuned your abilities to become indispensable. The bastard still hit you occasionally, and his other slaves weren’t treated any better, but you had to admit, him locking you in the basement all those years had saved your life. If you hadn’t cultivated the skills you had, Peli wouldn’t have bought you at auction when the bastard bit the sand, and she wouldn’t have dug out your transmitter chip and effectively freed you the moment you walked into Hanger 3-5. The tiny woman had said she needed an apprentice, not a slave, and so that was what you became. Now, you were a mechanic in your own right, and a damn good one if you did say so yourself. Mando just didn’t need to know how you’d gotten there.

The bounty hunter seemed to think the same thing, too, because he nodded once before he looked back at the tablet.

“This is good work,” he said, and something in your chest preened at his words before you squashed it down. “If these calculations are correct—”

“They are,” you interjected before you could stop yourself.

“Then I think I can set out on foot, find the quarry, and bring him back tomorrow just as you’re finishing the repairs,” Mando went on, and he glanced up at you again. “Does that time frame sound right to you?”

“Maybe.” You shrugged. “Should work for me, but it could take you a little longer. I’m unfamiliar with this terrain, and there are too many other variables, like jungle beasts or indigenous species, for me to be sure.”

“The terrain won’t be a problem,” the Mandalorian said as he handed you the tablet back. “And neither will any beasts or natives.”

You cocked an eyebrow at the bounty hunter but didn’t contradict his confidence. “Alright. Then, yes, I should have the ship up and running by the time you get back. Are you leaving now?”

“Once I grab some supplies,” Mando replied before he paused and seemed to consider you. “Will you be… okay until I return?”

It was a familiar question, albeit still surprising. The Mandalorian was a stoic, usually silent warrior, literally a wall of beskar steel. You’d seen him kill men as easy as breathing, and he threw each bounty into carbonite without an ounce of remorse.

And yet, every time he had to leave the ship alone, he asked you if you would be alright until he got back. The question and concern would have made no sense… if you hadn’t seen the bounty hunter interact with his foundling. He tried to hide it, but he treated the little green baby so gently you knew there had to be a warm, beating heart beneath all that beskar. You just never expected any tenderness to be aimed at you, so it drew you up short every time.

“Yeah.” You smiled. “I’ll be fine. Besides—”

You trailed off as you felt something touch your lower leg, and when you looked down, big brown eyes set in a little green face blinked back up at you. Then little green hands lifted in your direction, and you laughed as you swooped down, picked him up, and set him on your hip.

“Besides,” you continued, still chuckling as you booped the child on the nose and left a smudge of red dirt behind, “I’ll have this little guy to keep me company. Right, kid?”

The baby cooed and reached out, his three tiny fingers settling on the bridge of your nose as he tried to boop you back. When he withdrew his hand, though, his skin was dyed black.

“Huh?” You frowned at the slick ooze on his fingers, your eyes crossing as you tried to bring his hand into focus. “What’s on your hand there, bud?”

“It’s grease,” Mando supplied.

“What?” you asked as you turned your head to the bounty hunter.

“Grease,” he repeated, and he touched the intersection on the glass T of his visor, right over where the bridge of his nose would sit. “You’ve got some just there.”

“Oh.” You blushed, your hand flying up to cover your face. Not only were you covered in dirt and sweat, but grease now, too. Typical. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I thought you knew,” the Mandalorian said, but there was that faint undercurrent in his voice that you were sure was amusement now. “Don’t you have any rags?”

“I did,” you muttered as you tried to rub at your face with your shoulder, “but I had to throw most of them out after that oil leak we had on the moon we left about a week ago. It’s fine. I’m already a mess anyhow, and I’m just going to get dirtier as I fix up the ship.”

Mando seemed to stare at you intensely for a moment, and you had the feeling he was taking in just how filthy your clothes were. You could read nothing from his body language, though, and since he wasn’t speaking, there was nothing to infer from his voice, either. Embarrassed heat crawled up your neck, and you suddenly felt naked in your tank top and leggings. You shifted the child in your arms a little to bring him more in front of you and block more of you from view, but the effort was useless because Mando was abruptly spinning on heel and marching toward the ship’s ramp.

“I’m going to gather supplies,” he said gruffly over his shoulder. “Don’t let the kid touch any of the wires.”

And then he was gone, his cape flapping behind him as he disappeared into the bowels of the Razor Crest.

“Okay, bye,” you muttered, and you frowned after him before looking down at the kid and lowering your voice. “Your dad’s a little weird, you know that?”

The child blinked up at you and then seemed to nod his head in solemn agreement.

You laughed and kissed the top of his head even though you knew you were toeing a dangerous line here. You knew you were just the ship mechanic, the hired help, but you and the foundling had spent a lot of time together when the Mandalorian was out hunting bounties, and you couldn’t help loving the adorable baby like he was your own. He was mischievous and always looking to put things in his mouth that he shouldn’t, but something about his presence was calming, soothing. Plus, those big brown eyes were to die for. You weren’t even that surprised the kid had managed to wiggle his way under Mando’s beskar. It had only been a few months, but you knew without a shadow of a doubt that if it came down to it, you would give your life to save this child.

Which was wildly inappropriate, but you chose to ignore that fact.

“It’s just gonna be the two of us again for a bit, little man,” you told the foundling, turning back to face the Razor Crest. “But we’re gonna have some fun, yeah? Do you want to help me fix up the ship?”

The child gurgled into your ear and patted your cheek, which you took as an affirmative.

“Alright,” you laughed as you set him on a large root right next to your tool bag. You dug around until you found a tool you would need eventually, and then you handed it to the kid. “Here, hold this until I need it, okay? But don’t put it in your mouth.”

The foundling seemed to pout at that last bit, but he dutifully wrapped his three little fingers around the tool and held it firmly.

“Thank you.” You smiled. Then you turned back to the ship, put your hands on your hips, and furrowed your brow. “Now, where to start?”

You spent the next ten minutes assessing what was completely ruined, what was salvageable, and what you had on hand that wasn’t necessary and could possibly be retrofitted to fix the damage. The skeletal beginnings of a plan were already forming in your mind by the time the Mandalorian was clomping down the ramp again. You set down the tablet you’d been tapping away at and picked up the child once more, and the foundling babbled as he waved around the tool he was still holding.

“Be careful with that,” you chuckled, and you craned your head back to avoid getting smacked in the temple. “I’ll need it soon, so keep holding onto it.”

The child cooed and then shifted to wave the tool at the bounty hunter as he approached.

“Putting the kid to work now?” Mando asked as he stopped a few feet away. The crescent-shaped hilt of his favored Amban rifle jutted out over his left shoulder, and a small bag was slung over his right, probably filled with spare ammo, cuffs for the bounty, and possibly some food. You’d never personally seen the Mandalorian eat, though, and a part of you was convinced he didn’t, even if you rationally knew that wasn’t possible.

“Nah, I’m just teaching him a thing or two,” you said as you settled the foundling more soundly on your hip. “You’re never too young to learn something new, and on the plus side, being my little helper keeps him out of trouble. For the most part, anyway.”

“Thank you for watching him,” the bounty hunter said, tilting his visor down minutely to stare at the child, who grinned a gummy grin and waved the silver tool again. “I know it isn’t exactly what I hired you for—”

“I don’t mind,” you cut him off, and you glanced down to smile at the kid. “He’s pretty good company, and some of Peli’s droids have given me more trouble than he does. It’s really no problem.”

“Well, regardless,” Mando replied as his visor returned to studying you. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” You nodded, flushing again under his scrutiny. Then you cleared your throat and gestured at the bag on his back. “All ready?”

“Yes,” the bounty hunter said. “Days are longer here, but the sun will set eventually, and I want to try and find the quarry before moonrise. If all goes well, I should be back tomorrow before sunset.”

“Good luck, then,” you told him, and you lifted your chin with confidence. “I should have the ship ready when you return.”

“Thank you.” He inclined his helmet.

The baby suddenly burst out babbling something, and you glanced down to see him reaching out with his free hand toward the Mandalorian. His three little fingers made grabby motions, and the bounty hunter sighed.

“Listen to her while I’m gone, okay?” Mando murmured as he stepped closer into your personal bubble and held out his finger for the foundling to latch on to.

The child cooed, swinging the Mandalorian’s finger from side to side, and the breath stilled in your lungs as the bounty hunter’s glove brushed the edge of your mouth. You smelled something like leather and smoke, probably blaster residue, but then Mando was stepping back again, and the baby was forced to drop his finger.

“Keep alert,” he addressed you as he adjusted the pack on his shoulder. “We’re pretty far from any civilization out here, so I don’t think you should encounter anyone, but don’t assume you’re safe. And get inside the ship once the sun sets. The jungle will be more dangerous at night. I’ll have my comlink on me, but it’s affected by proximity, so you most likely won’t be able to contact me until I’m on my way back.”

“Don’t worry, Mando,” you said, and you patted the blaster he’d given you that was almost permanently attached to your hip. “I can defend myself if need be, and I have no desire to be caught outside after dark. We’ll be fine.”

“I know,” he replied, but you weren’t sure if he was trying to convince you or himself. Either way, he seemed to compose himself because he nodded once. “I’ll be back soon.”

“We’ll keep a weather eye on the horizon.” You smiled. “Try not to die of heat stroke.”

“I’ll try my best,” he said dryly, but after one more moment of staring at you and the foundling, he turned on heel and marched off into the jungle without another word. The multi-colored trees swallowed him almost instantly, and suddenly you were alone.

The child cooed sadly as he stared after the Mandalorian, and he turned his big brown eyes on you as if to say, Where’d he go?

“Don’t worry, bud,” you said, turning back to the ship. “He’ll be fine and back before you know it. Now, let’s take a look at those power converters, shall we?”

You set the foundling down beside your tool bag again, but you couldn’t help glancing over your shoulder in the direction the bounty hunter had disappeared in.

He’ll be fine and back before you know it, you repeated silently to yourself.

~~~~~

Two days later, you were starting to doubt the validity of your statements.

The sun had set and risen twice, and there was still no sign of Mando. Now, the celestial orb was steadily making its way across the horizon for the third time, and you sat on the ramp of the ship and glared up at the chattering canopy.

The child was down for a nap in the hammock the Mandalorian had set up in his own bunk, and your eyes burned with a similar exhaustion, but the anxiety slowly mounting in you made it impossible to sleep. The past two days had passed uneventfully. You’d spent every hour of sunlight you had at your disposal patching together the ship, and since days were longer on this planetoid, you estimated you’d spent over seventy-two hours getting the Razor Crest in working order again.

And you’d done it. It wasn’t perfect, but the ship could fly, and you were ninety-eight percent certain it would withstand leaving the atmosphere.

Now, all that was missing was the Mandalorian and his bounty.

“Dank farrik, Mando,” you grumbled under your breath as you dragged your singed, cut-up, and bandaged fingers through your hair. “Where the Maker are you?”

The chittering birds and critters in the underbrush didn’t have an answer for you, and you huffed out an aggravated breath as another bead of sweat dripped into your eyes.

By your estimate, there were about six hours left before the sun set again. Part of you, the illogical, irrational part, wanted to charge into the jungle in search of the Mandalorian. You had a general direction and location he should be in. Maybe you could find him.

But the rational side of your brain thankfully pointed out all the problems with that plan. For one, leaving the ship unattended was dangerous. You hadn’t seen anyone in the past two days, but that didn’t mean you were alone in the jungle, and now that the ship could fly again, someone could potentially walk right in and steal the vessel if you weren’t here to stop them.

Then there was the issue of the foundling. Sometimes, Mando took you and the kid along with him when he was hunting a bounty in a more populated area, but he was always there to protect the two of you if something went wrong. What happened if you brought the child with you into the jungle and you couldn’t protect him? And you couldn’t exactly leave him behind. Someone could steal both the child and the Razor Crest in that scenario.

The most compelling reason to stay with the ship, though, was Mando himself. Before he left, he’d confidently declared that neither the jungle itself nor the beasts or peoples therein would pose any problem for him. If he was wrong, and these things had posed a problem for the bounty hunter, what luck did you have of doing something he could not?

Anddddd that’s where the irrational side of you chimed in again with, Well, if he did run into an issue, he could need your help, so you should go look for him.

It was a vicious cycle, and your head was pounding with how fast it was running in circles.

You groaned as you dropped your face into your hands, digging the heels of your palms into your eye sockets.

“Fine,” you sighed into the darkness. “I’ll give him until morning.”

If the Mandalorian hadn’t returned by then, you’d start up the ship and fly over the area you’d triangulated for him. If you couldn’t find him from the air… well, you’d cross that bridge when you came to it.

~~~~~

You huffed in irritation as you tossed and turned in Mando’s bunk that night. You turned one way, rolled another, but then you found yourself with your nose buried in his pillow, and you instantly flipped back over, face hot with embarrassment even though it was dark and you were practically alone. You weren’t sure if he slept with his helmet on when he was alone in the closed confines of the bunk, but either way, the small space smelled of him intensely. You tried not to put words to his scent, told yourself it was inappropriate and he was your boss, a Mandalorian to boot, and you had no room or right to think of him in any way other than strictly professional… but that apparently didn’t work because you knew he smelled like the cheap soap from the fresher, and the rest was a blend of smoke, leather, and metal, the degrees of which varied by the day and yet was still always uniquely him.

You knew you were playing a losing game even just having these thoughts, but you somehow couldn’t help yourself, couldn’t stop yourself. Ever since Mando stepped between you and Ran’s crew all those months ago, blocking you with his body, a startling, protective rage in every inch of his armored silhouette, this little voice had come to life in the back of your head and wouldn’t shut the kriff up.

What if? the little voice whispered. What if it’s not just you having these thoughts? What if you could have him in more than just your dreams and fantasies in the darkness of this bunk?

Usually, you shoved the voice into the deep, dark recesses of your thoughts and recited equations until it grew quiet. You knew that was nothing but wishful thinking at best and delusion at worst. The Mandalorian was just that: a warrior closed off from the world by a shell of silver beskar. He cared for the foundling, yes, but that was entirely different and bore no correlation to the bounty hunter’s relationship with you. There was little he could possibly want from a former slave turned mechanic, aside from your skills, of course, so you clenched your eyes closed and tried to take shallow breaths through your mouth, but nothing you did could get his scent out of your nose, your memory.

You sighed for the umpteenth time and rolled to face the wall of the bunk.

When the bounty hunter was on the ship, the two of you usually slept in shifts so you could share the bunk, though sometimes the Mandalorian slept upright in the cockpit. It had been his idea originally. You’d been fine with a thin sleeping mat on the floor of the cargo bay, but he’d insisted in his strange, stoic, nonchalant way. So, you shared, and when it was just you and the kid on the ship, the two of you had the run of the place.

The child was currently in the hammock above your head, but you were pretty sure he wasn’t asleep, either. Every so often, he’d gurgle or make some other noise, and more than once you peeked up to find big brown eyes staring down at you in the dimness. You wondered if he could sense your anxiety, and you shifted so you could glare past your feet, out of the bunk, and at the closed ramp door.

You wanted to be angry with Mando, but by the time the sun set a few hours ago, you’d moved past that anger and straight into worry. The bounty hunter had never been gone this long before without contact, and your gut told you something was wrong and wouldn’t let you sleep. You wished you could blame your insomnia completely on your concern, but sadly, that wasn’t the case.

As if on cue, a sudden, piercing shriek echoed through the ship, and all the muscles in your body locked up on reflex.

The child gasped and made a worried noise as he poked his head over the edge of his hammock and stared down at you, and you tried to plaster on a fake, reassuring smile.

“It’s alright,” you murmured, reaching up to gently rock the foundling. “The ship’s closed and locked up. They can’t get us in here.”

The baby made an unconvinced sound, but he settled back into his bed without any further argument.

You sighed as you continued to rock the child, and you did your best not to flinch when another high-pitched screech sounded outside the ship.

You weren’t entirely sure what “they” were, but you knew they were nocturnal and carnivorous. And hungry. The past two mornings, you’d found bloody animal remains torn to bits and strewn along the edges of the clearing the Razor Crest was parked in like gory, crimson confetti. You’d kept the child practically glued to your side during the days because of this, but nothing ever attacked you during the day. They just circled the ship incessantly at night, howling and screeching and keeping you from finding a moment’s peace or rest. They hadn’t outright attacked the ship yet, but you were ready for it, your borrowed blaster a cold and heavy weight tucked under your pillow.

Reaching for it now, you curled your fingers around the familiar hilt and tried to block out the crescendoing, bloodthirsty shrieks of the mysterious jungle beasts.

You didn’t know how or when, but you must have dozed off at some point because all of the sudden, you jolted awake with a panicked gasp.

The bunk was dark and close around you, but since you’d left the door open at your feet, it wasn’t claustrophobic. Your vision was still blurry with sleep, so you swiped at your eyes with the back of your left wrist as you scrambled into a seated position. In your right hand you grasped the blaster, and you pointed it blindly in front of you, toward the rear of the ship.

You couldn’t remember what had woken you up, but it had been something. Your heart pounded a frantic tattoo into the underside of your ribcage, your arm shaking minutely with adrenaline. The ramp was still closed in front of you, so it hadn’t been Mando opening the door and returning. You squinted in the darkness but couldn’t see anything beyond shadows and vague shapes in pale, muted moonlight. It must have still been night, then.

You strained your ears, listening for the howling, but it was quiet. Suspiciously quiet. The jungle beasts usually didn’t go silent until right before dawn, but it was dark enough in the ship that you estimated it was still the middle of the night.

Where had they gone?

Your heart rose up into your throat, sweat beading at every one of your pores, and your mouth was so dry that your throat clicked when you swallowed.

The child made a noise of inquiry above you, barely louder than a breath, but it still made you jump all the same. Your gaze darted upward to find brown eyes staring down at you, but they were wide in an alarmed sort of way. One three-fingered hand poked over the edge of the hammock, making grabby motions at you, and the noise he made this time was more urgent, louder.

Had he heard something, too?

“What is it, little guy?” you whispered, reaching up with your free hand and awkwardly grappling him from his sling-bed.

He tumbled gently into your lap with a soft “oof,” but almost immediately he was standing up, turning around, and frantically patting at your cheek.

“What?” you asked with a frown.

He babbled and continued to tap the side of your face, and his noises grew increasingly distressed until he was grunting with frustration.

Then his tiny palm actually slapped down right across your ear canal so hard that both of your ears rang, and you hissed as you jerked your head back.

“Kriff, what was that fo—” you started to ask, but another hiss cut you off, and this one wasn’t from you.

Your heart stuttered, eyes skipping over the child’s head and out into the cargo bay, and your right hand tightened around the blaster you’d lowered to your side.

But there was nothing there. Nothing moved in the shadowy ship beyond you, and you frowned, thinking your mind was playing tricks on your startled and sleep-addled mind, but then the hiss came again.

And this time, you recognized it.

“Oh, pfassk!” you cursed as you craned around and shoved your hand under the pillow. Your fingers scrambled wildly across the sheet but encountered nothing, and you growled in aggravation, shifting the child off your lap and coming onto your hands and knees. You tossed the pillow over your shoulder in a fit of frustration, and your right hand slapped at the wall around your head until the bunk light came on.

You squinted in the flood of harsh light, the child gurgling behind you, but when your vision cleared, you spotted the thumb-sized comlink off the edge of the cot, shoved up into the far corner of the bunk. You lunged forward and wrapped your fingers around the small device, and the words were falling out of your mouth before you were even sure you had hit the button.

“Mando?” you called into the comlink, cringing when your loud voice echoed back to you in the close confines of the bunk. “Mando, can you hear me?”

Mild static crackled back for a moment as you huddled around the tiny communicator, but then a louder burst of static—the hiss from earlier—exploded to life.

And you were sure you heard Mando’s voice in there.

“Mando!” you shouted as you heart did its best imitation of a speeder, and you cupped both hands around the comlink like that would help him hear you better. “Mando, it’s me! I’m here. Can you hear me?”

Another burst of static. Then…

Mando yelled your name, clear as day, followed by a scream of what sounded like “help” and a chorus of familiar howling, and your stomach bottomed out inside of you.

“Mando!” You were gripping the communicator so hard you were afraid you were going to break it. “Mando, where are you? What’s wrong?”

He didn’t respond. You sat there frozen for a full minute, ears straining to the point of ringing, but only quiet static crackled back at you.

“Dank farrik!” you cursed, punching the side of your fist into the bunk wall.

The child cooed at you, brown eyes big with concern, and he put his tiny hand on your knee as you raked a shaking hand through your hair.

Your chest heaved up and down as you fought for breath, your mind spinning off into a million directions at once.

Mando was in trouble. Mando needed your help. He was fighting jungle beasts, and he was far enough away that you couldn’t hear the shrieking with your own ears, but close enough that he could partially reach you over the comlink. You had to do something. You had to go help him.

But what about the child? What about the ship? You couldn’t take the Razor Crest. It was pitch black outside, and you wouldn’t be able to see Mando below the thick, dark canopy. You had to go on foot.

And you had to take the kid with you.

“Come on,” you said as you tucked the communicator into your pocket, grabbed the foundling and blaster, and scooted to the edge of the bunk. Your boots were on the ground below you, and you shoved your feet in them blindly, tying the laces in three deft movements.

Then you were on your feet, turning on the cargo lights, and jogging the child over to his floating silver carrier. You grabbed the spare remote on top of it, pressing the button and watching the top slide open with a hiss. Then you set the foundling down inside of it, and in the same motion you were tucking the remote into your pocket, turning on heel, and striding for the armory.

Another button press, followed by the hiss of hydraulics, and you were left staring at several walls of guns and weaponry. Some of them you knew. Mando had even taught you how to shoot a few, but those were typically smaller blasters.

And based on those howling screeches, you needed something with more of a kick.

Your eyes skipped over the blaster pistols since you already had the one on your hip, and after a moment’s indecision, your gaze settled on a midsized rifle you’d shot once before. You hadn’t been very good at it, only hit four of the ten targets Mando set out, and you remember it being very heavy.

But it was better than nothing, and you needed something to fight back against the dark jungle.

So, you took the rifle down and looped it around your shoulder, pursing your lips as the strap dug into your skin. You spent a moment checking the power cell and gas canister, and even though both were full, you still stuck a few spares into a belt that you wrapped around your hips. You also added a few grenades to your arsenal, both explosive and ones set to stun, plus a pair of Mando’s vibroknives, as a last defense measure. If you were being honest, if the rifle and grenades failed you, you probably wouldn’t live long enough to use the knives, but it made you feel better to clip their sheaths unto your belt.

The rifle and belt weighed you down with an extra five to six kilos, but you had lugged far heavier burdens through Tatooine’s desert, so you knew you could handle it.

The last two things you grabbed were the head lamp you typically wore when working under or inside ships and the cuff you’d programmed to work the twin lights—along with a variety of other tasks aboard the Razor Crest—resting at each of your temples. The cuff was a haphazard creation of yours made of old leather, metal, and glass, but it worked and was comfortable, which was all that mattered. It also had a small magnetic slot that was specifically meant for the remote of the foundling’s floating carrier, so you fished that out of your pocket and felt it snap into place with a satisfying click.

You were armed and ready now. All you had to do was move.

“Mando,” you said as you stuck the comlink in your ear and synced it to your cuff, which had a built-in frequency booster. You were already moving toward the ramp, tapping at your wrist and listening to the foundling’s carrier humming after you. The rifle felt heavy as you maneuvered it into your slick palms, and your heart hammered a war song in your ears. “Mando, I’m coming for you. Just hold on, okay?”

Static crackled in your ear, and your chest began to heave up and down as adrenaline flooded through you.

“Okay, little man, you’re going to take a nap, alright?” you said as you looked down at the child in his pod, your voice shaking even though you tried to stop it. “And when you wake up, your dad will be back with us.”

He cooed up at you with a fearful expression on his face, but you only spared a moment to press a kiss to his head before you were tapping at your wrist again. The lid of the pod started to hiss close as the ramp of the ship began to clank open, and you slid your finger onto the rifle’s trigger as the door slowly lowered before you.

The ramp finally thudded to the jungle floor, and you took a moment to stare out into the foreboding darkness. The moon was pale and wan in the purple-tinted sky, and all you could see were shadows along the edges of the clearing. Your eyes darted back and forth, every muscle in your body locked and braced for an attack, but nothing happened. Nothing moved save the indigo clouds over head, and the only sound you heard was the muted chirps and hums of insects.

“Okay, come on, quit stalling,” you muttered to yourself even though your heart felt like it was about to roll off your tongue. “Mando doesn’t have time for this.”

At the sound of his name—or at least, the only name you had ever known the bounty hunter by—some of the fear inside you vanished, and you were suddenly jogging down the ramp without further thought. The child’s carrier trailed after you quietly, and you jabbed at your wrist to close and lock up the Razor Crest.

You spared half a glance over your shoulder to make sure the ramp was secured, and then you looked down at your cuff. Mando’s comlink had a built in GPS transmitter, but its range was limited. However, if he was close enough to briefly contact you…

A dot flickered in and out on the grungy screen on your wrist, and you spun in a circle to figure out which direction had the strongest connection. The dot flared brightly when you angled toward the west, and you started running before you even had a plan.

You crashed through the underbrush with the child’s pod hot on your heels, and the thick, humid air sawed in and out of your heaving lungs as you gasped for breath. The lights at your temples provided enough illumination to see several steps ahead of you but not much else, and you tripped and careened over root and vine as you tried not to lose your grip on the rifle.

The good news was the dot on your read-out was no longer flickering, and it was now a strong red point about a kilometer ahead of you.

The bad news?

The jungle was no longer quiet around you.

As your feet pounded into the red soil and carried you forward, static crackled loudly in your ear, and the howling returned, faint at first but growing closer. Shivers wracked your sweat-slicked spine, and every fiber of your being was screaming to run the other way.

But you couldn’t. Because now you could hear Mando grunting and shouting over the comlink, clearer and clearer with each step, and as you vaulted over a protruding root in your path, you distinctly heard a roar of rage directly ahead of you.

You would have shouted his name if there was any breath left in your lungs, but instead you just lowered your head and sprinted as fast as you could.

The howling was nearly deafening now, echoing all around you, seeming to come from every shadow in the jungle. Your ears rang with the soul-piercing shrieks, and the cacophony was so disorienting, you tripped over your own feet and crashed into the dirt.

“Kriff!” you gasped, your knees and palms stinging as you skidded to a halt. Dots danced in front of your eyes as you panted harshly, and the rifle knocked painfully against your sternum.

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw the child’s pod come to a stop several feet away, the silver orb glinting in the pale moonlight barely filtering through the canopy.

Then you saw something else shift in the shadows behind the floating carrier.

At first, you thought it was your swimming vision, but then the weak lights of your headlamp reflected off several glinting eyes, and the breath stalled in your lungs.

A guttural, wet growl echoed out of the bushes beyond the foundling’s pod, and in the next instant the beast was lunging forward, vaulting over the carrier in one bound.

You yelped as you scrambled backward, fumbling for the rifle’s trigger, and you got the barrel up just in time to block a bifurcated jaw of gnashing fangs. The beast let out a piercing shriek as it snapped at your face, and the familiar sound nearly popped your eardrum at this proximity, but the pain barely even registered as you wedged your legs up under the creature’s chest and heaved it off you.

The beast let out a high-pitched yip as it smacked into a tree trunk, but you didn’t give it the chance to regain its feet. In one swift movement, you brought the rifle up, sighted down the barrel, and pulled the trigger.

The blaster must have been set on full-auto because a continuous stream of energy screamed out of the weapon, and the barrel jerked upward with the recoil. Bolts of energy shredded through the vines and branches overhead, and some kind of bat-bird creature screeched as it dove out of the canopy and swooped over you. It thankfully wasn’t trying to attack, merely flee, and the avian-beast cawed angrily as it disappeared into the jungle.

“P-Pfassk,” you panted, your voice as jittery as your racing pulse. Still, you scrambled to your feet, with the smoking rifle held tight in your shaking grasp, and you stared wide-eyed at the corpse of the beast that had attacked you.

The thing was almost two meters long, and six disjointed looking limbs jutted out from underneath it. Your would-be-killer looked vaguely canine yet also insect-like, with its long snout and what looked like scaled plates along its spine. The combination made your stomach churn. The blaster had carved smoldering holes into most of the creature’s flesh, but the uncharred remains were blackish-purple, mottled with spots of blue and green that matched the jungle’s underbrush. The beast was entirely hairless and slick-looking like an oil spill, and its bifurcated maw hung open to reveal rows of rotted black fangs. Two pairs of pale white eyes stared blindly up at the dark sky, and purplish blood seeped out around the carcass to stain the jungle floor.

Bile rose in your throat, but before you could even process your fear, terror, and revulsion, a very human sounding scream echoed through the dark night, and you whipped your head in the direction it had come from.

“Mando,” you breathed, and you spared the dead beast one last glance before you took off running again, every sense on high alert.

You didn’t dare blink as you crashed through the underbrush, and you pushed your aching limbs as fast as they would go. The din of snarling and howling was so loud now it was rattling your teeth, and all of the sudden you were stumbling out of the thick tree line and into a small clearing.

A clearing riddled with bodies, both living and dead.

Your brain stuttered as it tried to assess the scene before you. The canopy overhead was broken in a perfect circle, so the moonlight here was strong and bright after the deep shadows of the jungle, and it illuminated everything perfectly. The Mandalorian stood in the center of the carnage, half collapsed against a rotten log twice as tall as he was. Carcasses of the canine-like beasts were piled up in mounds around the clearing, some shot but some charred into blackened skeletons, and the stench of burnt flesh invaded your nose and sat heavy on the back of your tongue.

For every dead beast, though, there were two more still snarling, and boy, were they pissed.

The pack of creatures prowled in a semi-circle before the bounty hunter, all their attention centered on him, and they growled and snapped their bifurcated jaws in his direction. They didn’t seem to want to attack him head on, and a moment later you saw why.

One of the beasts must have reached its breaking point, because with the same piercing shriek that had kept you up the past two nights, it lunged for the Mandalorian, the moonlight glinting off the armored plates along its spine.

The poor bastard never made it.

While the creature was still in mid-air, Mando jerked his wrist up, and a blast of flames roared out of his vambrace. The beast screeched as it was swallowed by the inferno, and its charred corpse crashed to the ground at Mando’s feet a moment later. The remainder of the pack snarled in fury as they paced in front of the bounty hunter, but you felt your throat tighten with fear.

The flamethrower was obviously a great weapon at repelling these creatures, but judging by the radius on that last spurt of fire, you estimated Mando had enough fuel for one, maybe two more attacks.

And there were dozens of the beasts left.

What were you going to do?

You heaved for breath as your eyes darted around the clearing, trying to look for a solution, but you knew the answer was obvious: you were going to have to fight.

You blindly tapped at your wrist, and a moment later the child’s carrier rose up above your head and nestled against the lowest branch of the tree you were standing under. You didn’t know if the beasts could climb, but the pod was made of a strong, reinforced metal, so as long as the creatures didn’t notice the kid, he should be fine.

The same couldn’t be said for you.

Maker, you were going to regret this, weren’t you?

You didn’t give yourself the chance to change your mind.

“Hey!” you shouted as you stepped further into the clearing, one of your hands dropping to the belt on your waist.

The chorus of snarls and growls tapered off for a moment as the pack whipped around in unison to face you, and the saliva evaporated in your mouth as you stared at the dozens of glowing white eyes.

At the sound of your voice, you could see Mando jerk upright in your peripherals, but you didn’t dare tear your eyes off the pack as they started to stalk toward you. Sweat dripped down your face and trickled along your spine as you palmed a cold, heavy orb in your right hand, and you watched the distance between you and the creatures shrink bit by bit.

Mando shouted your name, but you ignored him.

“Yeah, that’s right!” you yelled at the beasts instead. “You guys hungry? Why don’t you come and get me?”

“What are you doing?” Mando roared, but you still didn’t pay him any mind as you tracked the pack. There were maybe three dozen left alive, and they bared their black fangs at you as they drew closer and closer.

Twenty meters… fifteen… ten…

Now.

“Take this!” You heaved your arm back, aimed at the beast in the center of the pack’s line, and threw with all your might, and the creature yelped as the stun grenade struck him in the skull.

A moment later, a web of electricity exploded out of the orb and arced through half of the pack, and the poor bastards screeched and screamed as they fell spasming to the jungle floor. The beasts on the edges snarled as they jumped away from their sparking brethren, and you saw some of the canine-monsters retreat into the shadows of the clearing.

This was your chance.

You darted forward the moment you had a clear path to take, and you vaulted over the pack’s twitching bodies in three swift strides. When you landed on the other side of them, you spun around and faced the fallen creatures as they whined and spasmed on the ground. Then you lifted your rifle, aimed haphazardly, and pulled the trigger. You swept the barrel from side to side for a moment, energy bolts tearing and searing through flesh, but then you whirled back around and sprinted toward the Mandalorian’s prone form.

He was propped up against the log with his legs splayed out in front of him, and you inhaled sharply when you saw the dark stain of blood on the ground beneath his right thigh. His Amban rifle lay beside him, but since he wasn’t using it, you assumed he was out of ammo. The bounty hunter listed heavily onto what you first thought was a rock of some kind, but as you skidded to a stop in front of him, you realized the lump was the body of another humanoid, except it didn’t look to be breathing.

“Mando!” you gasped as you crouched down in front of him. “Maker, w-what happened—”

“What are you doing here?” he cut you off with a snarl, and the absolute rage in his voice drew you up short.

You gaped at his visor, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. “W-What… you called—”

“I didn’t call you, he did, right before they tore out his throat,” Mando growled and shoved the prone form beside him.

The body flopped over with a thud, and you stifled a gag when you realized the poor bastard had been eviscerated. He was torn open from gut to gullet, intestines and innards gleaming wetly in the dark, and his bulging black eyes stared up unseeingly at the moon.

“Dank farrik, Mando,” you breathed in horror. “What happened?”

The Mandalorian tilted his helmet up to look at you, but then his gaze seemed to shift over your shoulder, and he was suddenly latching onto your wrist with an iron grip and tugging you forward.

“Watch out!” he shouted as you tripped over his legs and landed on the other side of him, and a moment later you heard and felt the roar of flames at your back as another beast met a smoldering end.

You scrambled up onto your knees and whirled around, rifle held at the ready, but there were only the two new dead creatures sprawled at Mando’s feet. Their corpses smoked as their blackened flesh crackled, and this time you weren’t successful in stifling your gag. You dry-heaved off to the side, tears blurring your vision, but when the chorus of bone-chilling howls started up again, you blinked away the tears and clenched your rifle in a white-knuckled grip.

“We gotta get out of here,” you panted, your eyes darting from place to place as you tried to track the beasts slithering through the shadows.

“Can’t,” Mando grunted, and all of the sudden, you realized his voice sounded off, slurred.

You whipped back around to face the bounty hunter, and your gaze immediately fell to the dark stain under his leg. It had grown since you’d first seen it, and then you realized a haphazard tourniquet was lashed around the top of his leg, right above the metal plate that covered the front of his thigh.

“You’re hurt,” you breathed. It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah.” Mando’s head jerked up and down in an unsteady nod. “Just… happened. One of them got me… when I was trying to save the bounty. Pretty sure they nicked my femoral.”

His words were softer and definitely slurred now, and panic rose up in your throat like a burning coal.

“Then we need to get back to the Razor Crest now,” you said as you reached for his shoulders, but the Mandalorian sluggishly shoved you away.

“I’ll… only slow you down,” he grunted. “The bounty and I… are easy meals. The pack should stay to finish us off while you make a break for the sh—”

“No,” you cut him off, and the snarl in your voice surprised even you. “No, Mando. I’m not leaving you to die. We’re only a kilometer away from the Razor Crest. I have extra power cells and grenades. We can make it.”

Mando’s head thunked back against the log he leaned on as he stared up at you, and even if you couldn’t see the face underneath the visor, you could see the resignation in every inch of him.

And it ignited a fury in you unlike anything you had ever known.

“So, what?” you growled, bending down to bare your teeth in his face. “You’re just gonna sit here and die? What about the kid? You just gonna abandon him?”

You’re just going to abandon me? you didn’t say, but the words rattled against the backs of your clenched teeth.

“He’ll… have you,” Mando said, and suddenly his gloved hand reached up as if to touch your face, but he didn’t seem to have the strength, and the tip of his index finger barely grazed the edge of your jaw. His touch left behind a warm streak on your skin, and you didn’t have to look to know it was blood.

“That’s not good enough,” you snarled before you stooped down and grabbed the ends of his makeshift tourniquet, yanking tightly on both ends until Mando groaned in pain and latched onto your shoulders.

He murmured your name, his modulator crackling in your ear, but you ignored him as you looped his spent Amban rifle over his shoulder and shifted to slide your left arm behind his back, throwing his right arm over your shoulders. You took two deep breaths to brace yourself, and then you dug your fingers into his waist as you tried to leverage the both of you onto your feet.

It was nearly impossible. The Mandalorian had to weigh nearly ninety kilos in his beskar, and with the added weight of the weapons and grenades you carried, you could feel the muscles in your legs, core, and back scream at the strain.

“Dank… farrik,” you hissed out between clenched teeth, but you managed to get the two of you upright, even if Mando was practically limp against you. Still, you had to leverage your back against the log behind you to keep from collapsing.

“We’ll never make it… back to the ship like this,” Mando panted, his cold helmet brushing against the shell of your ear.

“Shut up,” you gritted out, listening to the howling beasts closing in again like they could sense your weakness. “I refuse to leave you behind. So, unless you want to kill us both, you need to get your ass in gear, Mando. I can keep them off our backs as we go, but you need to walk with me. Understand?”

“Cyare,” he slurred, and the unfamiliar word sounded pained as his helmet thunked into your temple. “I… don’t want you to die.”

“Then walk,” you grunted as you tightened your grip on his waist and lurched forward a step.

Mando staggered behind you, half draped over your back, but you widened your stance and refused to go down.

“Please… Mando,” you panted, shoving the barrel of your rifle into the loamy red soil to act as a crutch. “Help me save us. Just… just put one foot in front of the other.”

“Wait,” the Mandalorian said, and he actually lifted his head off your shoulder. “The bounty…”

“The bounty’s dead,” you grunted as your eyes darted to the trees again. You could see the sinuous shapes of the pack weaving between the towering trunks, but they kept their distance for the moment. They’d lost more than half of their numbers by your estimate, and you prayed to the Maker they would just give up, but you knew that would be way too convenient for your life.

“The puck… said dead or alive,” Mando sighed, his arm weighing down on the nape of your neck like a yoke, and it reminded you of the slave’s collar you once wore.

“I can’t carry both of you back, Mando,” you growled in frustration. “I can barely drag you.”

“Don’t need the whole body,” he clarified. “Just… the head. It’s… a big bounty.”

You groaned as you glanced down at the quarry’s corpse, and then you tilted your head back to try and look at Mando.

“Can you stand by yourself for a minute?” you asked.

“Maybe,” Mando grunted, but he shifted his weight off you bit by bit and leaned up against the tall log at your backs. His boots slid a few inches in the blood-soaked dirt as he almost collapsed, but he dug his gloved fingers into the rigid bark and stood there shaking.

“Didn’t know I was paying you for maybes,” you parroted his words from days ago back at him in an attempt to take his mind off the pain, and it seemed to work because he actually huffed out a strained-sounding chuckle.

“Hurry,” he panted, and you nodded as you quickly stepped away from him, stood over the bounty’s corpse, and shoved the barrel of your rifle between his shoulder and neck.

It was so dark, and you were running on so much adrenaline you couldn’t even be sure of what species the man used to be, but you pushed the thought away as you took a deep breath and held down the trigger.

The rifle screeched as it tore through flesh like a hot knife through butter, and you tried to ignore the feeling of lukewarm blood splattering across your lower legs. Moments later, the jittery, rapid-fire motions of the gun ceased, and the bounty’s head rolled away from the smoldering stump of his neck.

Bile rose up in your throat again, but you swallowed it down as you picked up the decapitated head and started punching buttons on your cuff.

Instantly, you heard the familiar hum of the child’s pod drone closer and closer, and behind you Mando inhaled sharply as the jungle dogs yipped in curiosity from the shadows.

“You brought the kid?” he growled.

“Well, it wasn’t like you left me much kriffing choice, but you can fire me later for child endangerment,” you snapped as the carrier floated down to stop in front of you. Then you turned to the Mandalorian and held out your bloodied hand. “I need your fibercord whip. Eject it.”

Mando didn’t even question you, he just did as he was bid. Within moments, you had the thin but strong wire wound up in your palm, and then you started the gory process of wrapping it securely around the bounty’s bloody head. Your stomach churned at the slick warm goo covering your skin, but you swallowed the saliva pooling in your mouth as you tapped at your wrist again.

The child’s pod opened with a hiss, and you made sure to lower the decapitated head so it was below the carrier and out of the foundling’s line of sight.

“Hey there, bud,” you said as you leaned down and tucked the end of the fibercord into the interior of the pod near the hinges. “Look who I found.”

The foundling cooed and gurgled happily when he caught sight of the Mandalorian, and he lifted his arms and made grabby motions at the bounty hunter.

“Not yet,” you said as you stepped forward and blocked Mando from view. “First, we need to get back to the ship, so I need to close you up again. Don’t worry about anything you hear, though, okay? I promise we’ll be fine.”

The child murmured a soft sound as you bent down and kissed his wrinkled brow, but then you tapped at your wrist, and the pod closed with another hiss, locking the wire with the dangling head in place. You keyed in a few more commands, and the carrier rose up high above you, hovering at least six meters off the ground. Blood dripped from the severed stump of the quarry’s neck as it dangled from the pod, and you flinched when a speck of it landed on your cheek. It might be disgusting, but this way, the child and the remainder of the bounty would hopefully be out of reach of any of the beasts, and you could focus all your energy on getting you and Mando back to the Razor Crest.

“Alright.” You tore your gaze away from the silver pod and shifted your grasp on the rifle, wedging the stock against your right shoulder as tight as you could. You knew your aim would be abysmal since you were going have to shoot one handed while dragging Mando, but you hoped the full-auto setting would grant you some leeway. “Let’s go.”

“You really should—” the Mandalorian started, but you clicked your tongue to cut him off.

“That wasn’t a request,” you said as you sidled up against the bounty hunter and double checked that his tourniquet was secure.

“Fine.” He reluctantly draped his right arm over your shoulder, and you wrapped your left one around his waist. Then the two of you pushed off the log at your backs, and you staggered forward several steps, trying not to trip on any dead jungle dogs.

Mando’s cold beskar felt like it was burning you wherever it brushed against your bare, hot flesh, and he groaned in your ear as he practically dragged his injured leg behind him. The agony of his voice made you want to stop and sprint forward all at the same time, but you settled for stumbling several more steps.

“That’s it,” you panted in encouragement. “One step at a time.”

The pack howled and shrieked as you painstakingly shuffled your way across the clearing, but you haphazardly aimed your rifle into the jungle and held down the trigger. Rapid-fire bolts of energy careened into the darkness, illuminating white eyes and flashes of twining vines and snarling beasts, but several yowls echoed through the night, so you knew you’d hit at least some of them.

“Mando,” you gritted out as you neared the tree line. “I need you to hit my cuff. There’s a button on the side that will turn up my headlamp. I want it at maximum. Since these bastards are nocturnal, I’m guessing they don’t like the light.”

The Mandalorian grunted something that sounded like an affirmative, and then his left hand was swatting blindly at your cuff. After fumbling for a moment, his thick, gloved fingers encircled your wrist, his thumb brushing faintly over your thudding pulse point.

Your feet nearly tangled beneath you, but then Mando found the button on your cuff, and he pressed on it until the lights at your temple were bright enough to blind. The beams of white light cut through the oppressive darkness of the jungle, and the canine creatures yelped in pain as they darted back into the shadows. You swung your gaze back and forth, your lamp dragging over the scenery like a burning laser, and the beasts whimpered as their tails disappeared into the bushes.

“Come on,” you groaned as you dragged Mando forward, and the two of you finally stumbled into the thick of the trees.

You didn’t know how much time passed as you and the Mandalorian struggled back to the ship. Seconds seemed like minutes, minutes hours. The moon appeared frozen in the sky above your head, and more than once you had the thought that you were already dead, and this was some messed up version of an afterlife where you were tortured for eternity.

In the end, though, you knew you were alive.

If you weren’t, it wouldn’t hurt so much.

“Left,” Mando slurred in your ear, half draped over your back, and your feet stuttered as you swung both of you around to the left.

The rifle screeched as it fired off into the darkness, followed by the yelps of dying dogs, and you hissed as the stock dug into your already sore shoulder. The pack snarled and gurgled as they encircled you, but they were hesitant now that you’d killed a majority of them. You wondered why they just didn’t give up, but you realized they could most likely sense you weakening, slowing.

Sweat ran in rivers down your face and spine, and every tendon in your body felt like it was on the edge of snapping. You could tell Mando was trying to take some of his weight off you, but he was becoming more and more unsteady with each step, his breath jagged and uneven as it rasped out of his helmet. He probably wouldn’t remain conscious for much longer, and if he passed out before you reached the ship, you were both dead. You couldn’t fully carry him, and you would not even entertain the idea of leaving him, so it was all or nothing.

Either you both reached the ship together, or neither of you did.

But, as you glanced up at the child’s pod hovering high over your head, you knew the second choice wasn’t really an option. The kid needed you. Needed both of you.

So, you were going to kriffing live, even if you had to break your body down to achieve your goal.

“Come on,” you encouraged as you stumbled over a tree root. “Come on, Mando. We’re almost there. Stay with me, okay?”

You had no idea if you were almost there or not. The homing beacon on your cuff was beeping steadily, but with all the howling, and the blood pounding through your ears, you couldn’t approximate how close you were to the Razor Crest.

“I’m… trying,” Mando mumbled, lifting his head just slightly. “B-Behind us.”

You cursed under your breath, letting the rifle dangle against your chest as you fumbled at your waist. Your fingers curled around a cold, metal orb, and you clicked the button in its center before you lobbed the grenade over your shoulder with all the strength you had left, which wasn’t much.

Then you staggered forward a little faster, dragging the bounty hunter behind you, and five seconds later, you heard the stun grenade go off, followed by the crackling of static and the yelping of beasts.

“That’s my last… stun grenade,” you panted, and the hair on your arms stood on end with all the electricity in the moist air. “I have some explosive ones… but…”

“But we’re not fast enough to get out of range in time,” Mando finished for you, his helmet bumping into the crown of your head as he sagged a little more.

“Yeah,” you huffed, but then a crunch to your right had you whirling and firing in one motion.

The canine yipped and screeched as the energy bolts tore through its chest mid-lunge, and it crashed into the ground at your feet as you staggered into a tree. The bark scraped painfully across your bare shoulder blades, and Mando groaned as you almost lost your grip on him.

“No,” you growled, tightening your arm around the bounty hunter and tugging you both upright. “Dank… farrik!”

The muscles in your arm burned hotly from the strain of keeping the Mandalorian on his feet, and you bit through your tongue to keep from crying out, the metallic taste of blood coating your teeth and whetting your parched mouth.

You stumbled forward blindly as you tried to work through the pain, but all the sudden, the claustrophobic darkness caused by the towering trees lessened a few degrees. You thought you were hallucinating it at first, but then you lifted your head a fraction and realized the trees were thinning out ahead of you.

And the beacon in your cuff was beeping like mad.

You were almost there. The Razor Crest was so close.

Of course, that’s when the snarling behind you reached new frantic heights, and you knew the pack was gearing up for one final assault.

“Mando, listen to me,” you gasped as you shifted to shove him against a tree, using your palm to keep him rooted at the sternum and on his feet.

He groaned as he listed there, mumbling something that didn’t sound like it was in Basic, but he remained upright, so you seized the opportunity to jab at the screen on your wrist. A moment later, the child’s pod swooped down from where it had been hovering near the canopy, and the bounty’s head dragged against the jungle floor with a dull crunch. You tweaked the carrier’s settings half blind, one eye on the encroaching darkness and the beasts therein, and then you grabbed the floating orb and shoved it against Mando’s gut.

“Ugh,” the bounty hunter grunted, his feet starting to slide out from under him.

“No, lean forward,” you rushed out, grabbing one of his shoulders and tugging him toward you.

Mando moaned as he collapsed onto the child’s pod, but since you’d cranked up the carrier’s power output to the max, the bounty hunter didn’t crash to the ground. Instead, he hung there half suspended, the pod whirling angrily from his added weight, his feet limp and dragging behind him.

“Mando,” you said as you tapped the side of his helmet, eyes still on the shadowy trees. “Mando, I need you to hold onto that pod as tight as you can, okay? Can you hear me?”

“Hear… you,” the Mandalorian just barely breathed, and you saw his arms wrap around the bottom of the silver carrier.

“Hold on like your life depends on it,” you instructed as you tapped at your wrist again. “Because it does.”

“What—” he started to ask, but he didn’t get to finish the question because the pod was suddenly surging forward, in the direction of the ship. The bounty’s head and Mando’s feet dragged loudly against the ground, but with one last jolt of power, the pod lifted away from the jungle floor and began to float away.

The pod would probably have just enough power to get Mando back to the ship before it died, but that was fine. That was just what you needed.

The jungle dogs howled and shrieked as they watched the Mandalorian drifting away through the trees, but as you listened to them start to skirt around you in his direction, you finally gripped the rifle with two hands and aimed into the dark.

Then you pulled the trigger, full-auto, and the shrieking of the energy bolts collided with the screeching of the canines and crescendoed into a deafening cacophony. You sprayed the jungle in wide sweeps as you slowly started to walk backward toward the Razor Crest, the rifle stock jolting into your shoulder in time with your racing heart. You just needed to give Mando time to reach the ship. You had programmed the pod to open the ramp at a certain distance, so they would just fly on into the cargo bay, and it would close behind them. Once they were safe, you could make a break for it and—

Suddenly, one of the shadows broke away from the trunk directly to your right, and you turned too late to see it was a slavering beast, its bifurcated jaw wide open and aimed for your throat.

“Ahh!” You stumbled back, trying to crane away from those jagged black fangs, but your feet got tangled up beneath you, and you came crashing down. A root slammed into one of your rear ribs so hard you heard and felt the snap as the bone gave, but you didn’t even have time to register that pain before the jungle dog smashed into your chest.

You instinctively shoved your arms outward, wedging the rifle between those deadly, snapping jaws. One of the beast’s jagged fangs scraped down your forearm as you tried to keep the bastard from swallowing you whole, and you screamed in fury and pain as blood spilled from your rending flesh.

Then you brought your knee up and smashed it as hard as you could into the jungle dog’s ribcage, and this time you felt its rib snap, and grim satisfaction burned like a wildfire through your blood. The warmth filled your limbs until you thought you would burst into flame, and you kicked the beast again and again as it yipped.

You were just starting to think you had the upper hand when the creature’s jaw started to close with a creaking sound of bone on metal, and your eyes widened in horror as the canine jerked its head back, taking your rifle with it. Then its bifurcated jaw snapped close with a horrible crunch, and the rifle shattered into shards of metal and sparks.

The beast roared in pain and rage as it tossed the remains of your rifle aside, but now you were acting on pure survival instinct, not thought, not logic, and you were already wrenching two grenades and a vibroknife off your belt when the nightmare dog finally settled its four milky white eyes on your face.

“Eat this, you bastard,” you snarled as its terrible jaws, rowed with serrated teeth, descended on you.

Then with one hand you stabbed the vibroknife into its neck just above the shoulder, and with the other you activated the grenades and shoved both of them down the jungle dog’s throat.

Warm blood sprayed down on you like humid rainfall, and you twisted the blade in to the hilt, feeling as it tore through flesh in a jittery fashion. The creature gagged and gurgled as its throat muscles convulsed around your other wrist for just an instant, but then you yanked your arms back with all your might, teeth catching on your elbow again, before you crashed into the dirt.

You were scrambling up in the next instant, barely listening to the creature heaving and choking behind you as you staggered forward into a clumsy sprint.

The rest of the pack howled at your back, but you were flat out running now, and you could see the Razor Crest through the trees. The pounding of paws on dirt sounded at your heels, and you couldn’t tell if you were gasping for breath or sobbing as you tore the final grenades off your belt, activated them, and let them fall through your numb fingers.

In the next instant, you broke through the tree line, and you could see the ramp of the Razor Crest, closing. You slapped at your wrist blindly as you sprinted as fast as you could, lungs heaving to the point of seizures, legs at the point of collapse. You didn’t know if the dogs were still right behind you, but the grenades…

You must have finally hit the right command because the ramp suddenly shuddered before it started to lower again, and you were ten meters away when the grenades went off like dominoes falling.

The first two explosions—of the grenades you shoved into the jungle dog—only shook the ground hard enough to make you stumble forward, but then the rest of them detonated much closer, and the combined shockwave hit you moments later and catapulted you into the air.

Thankfully, the ramp was just low enough that you scraped over it and crashed into the ship, smashing into a bulkhead with a dull crunch. The howling shrieks of dying dogs reached you through the ringing in your ears, and you felt a wave of heat hit you as the grenades engulfed the jungle trees. You curled into a ball on the cargo bay floor, your back to the ramp, and you just barely had the presence of mind to tap at your wrist one last time. A moment later, you heard the whirling of the ramp closing, and when it clanked shut a moment later, you rolled over onto your back and stared blindly above you.

You could just barely hear the roar of the building wildfire outside the ship, and the screeching of the jungle dogs died down within seconds. Your entire body—your lungs, your heart—heaved up and down as adrenaline pulsed through you like a bad hit of spice, and your ears ached in the relative silence.

Then the child cooed, and Mando groaned weakly, and you jolted upright like you had just been struck by lightning.

“Mando,” you rasped, flipping over onto your raw hands and bruised knees.

The bounty hunter half-sat, half-sprawled on the floor at the foot of his bunk. The foundling’s pod lay askew on the ground in front of the fresher like it had crash landed there when it finally died, but the child stood unharmed beside the Mandalorian.

Who was currently bleeding out on the floor of the cargo bay.

“Kriff!” You scrambled forward when you saw the spreading stain of blood below his leg, and as you drew closer, you realized his tourniquet must have been loosened when he collapsed.        

The Mandalorian barely even seemed conscious at this point. His chest stirred only slightly beneath his beskar chest plate, and if it weren’t for the soft groans he was exhaling, you would have thought him dead.

“Mando!” you shouted as you shakily rose onto your feet and staggered the rest of the way to the fresher. Your hands were shaking as you tore one of the storage compartments open in search of a med kit, and your voice cracked when you said his name again. “Mando! Stay with me. We made it back. We’re on the ship. Just stay with me for a few more moments. Please.”

You crashed down onto your knees beside the bounty hunter, tearing the med kit open with bloody hands and broken nails. His helmeted head lolled onto the edge of the bunk behind him, and you could barely hear his raspy breaths through the modulator.

The child stood between Mando’s splayed boots, eyes large and frightened, but you couldn’t pay him any mind right now. Your frantic gaze darted between the bacta gel patch in your hand and Mando’s bleeding leg, and even though it felt crazy, you set the patch down for a moment and reached for the last vibroknife on your belt.

Suddenly, Mando jerked awake with a gasp, and you reached out without thinking, pressing your left palm over his heart and feeling his faint, fluttering pulse.

“Mando, I’m right here,” you murmured soothingly. “Keep breathing for me.”

The Mandalorian muttered your name as his head lolled toward you.

“Yes, that’s me, I’m here,” you said, rising up on your knees and leaning over him. The vibroknife glimmered in your hand, looking like a real-life glitch, but you shook off the unsettling feeling and fixed your eyes on Mando’s visor.

“Mesh’la,” the Mandalorian slurred. The word was soft and elongated to the point of sounding like gibberish, but his hand settled firmly on the wrist you still had pressed to his heart, like he was talking directly to you.

In any other situation, your own heart would be fluttering with a feeling you didn’t want to name, but as the bounty hunter’s blood started to soak into the knees of your pants, all you could feel was dread.

“I need you to stay still, okay?” you said as you dropped your hand from his chest to grip the top of his injured thigh. “I need to cut your pants away from the wound.”

“O… kay,” he muttered, and his hand fell to settle over yours again on his leg like he was grounding himself by touching you.

“Nice and easy,” you cooed, trying to blink the tears out of your eyes so you could see to cut through his pants and not his flesh. “I’ll have that bacta patch on in just a moment. Why don’t you talk to me, huh? Mando, talk to me. Tell me something. J-Just stay awake.”

“Aw…ake,” he whispered, but it sounded like he was just repeating you now, barely clinging to consciousness.

Your hand shook as you slowly sawed through the blood-soaked fabric, and an aborted sob rose in your throat. But you shoved your hysteria down, down, down, you had no time for it, you had to stay level-headed, steady-handed, Mando was counting on you, Mando was dying.

“Mando,” you choked as you finally pulled the cloth away from his wound. Three parallel gashes, each nearly five centimeters deep, ran from his hip crease and nearly all the way to his knee, and blood pulsed sluggishly from the wounds in crimson gobs. “Oh, Maker, Mando.”

You dropped the vibroknife with a loud clang as you lunged for the bacta patch, and out of your peripherals you could see the child waddling closer, standing in between the Mandalorian’s knees, the hem of his little robe slowly staining scarlet. You didn’t have the heart or the strength to shove the child away now, so instead you focused on settling the bacta patch over the bounty hunter’s grisly injuries.

Mando twitched and inhaled sharply as the bacta adhered to his skin, and you sent up a million prayers to the Maker that you had administered aid in time.

“There y-you go,” you sniffled, unable to stop the tears from coursing down your cheeks now. “I got the patch on, Mando. You’re going t-to be okay. You… you have to be okay. Do you hear me, Mando?”

You felt like a glitching holotape repeating his name over and over, but you couldn’t stop yourself. You wanted, no needed, him to stay awake, and every time you said his name, he seemed to jerk a little, like he’d been recalled from a long distance at the sound of your voice.

For a moment, there was only the faint, raspy wheeze of the Mandalorian’s breath through his helmet, but then he suddenly mumbled something.

“What?” You shuffled closer, slipping in blood. You practically had your ear pressed against his visor. “What was that, Mando? Say it again. Come on, talk to me, Mando.”

“Not… Mando.”

The words were stilted, sluggish, and you frowned in confusion. “Huh? I-I don’t understand.”

“My… name isn’t… Mando,” the bounty hunter struggled out, and his helmet tilted forward a fraction like he had lifted his head and was looking right at you. “It’s… Din. Din Djarin.”

The shock you felt was muted, distant and removed, like a crack that formed deep in the heart of a glacier, buried beneath the adrenaline, horror, and helplessness warring within you.

“Din,” you breathed, and the word somehow tasted like the exact moment Peli dug out your transmitter chip. It tasted like freedom, like infinite possibility, and you didn’t understand why.

Mando—no, Din, Din Djarin—exhaled heavily as his head thunked back against the bunk, and even if you couldn’t see it, you could tell his eyes were slipping closed. “I… wanted at least someone to know before I—”

“No,” you cut him off vehemently, reaching out to cradle the sides of his helmet like you were cupping his face. “No, you’re not going to die. Not now. Not when… no, do you hear me, Din Djarin? I will not allow you to die. Not when I worked my ass off to fix this ship and drag you back onto it by the skin of my kriffing teeth.”

“Mmmm.” Din’s head lolled in your grasp, the weight of him growing heavier and heavier. “I knew I would like the way… you say my name.”

Oh, Maker. He was nonsensical now, and terror gripped you by the throat and squeezed.

“Then stay awake, Din,” you begged, and your heart felt like it was on the edge of a great precipice. “Stay awake for me.”

“’m so… tired,” he sighed.

“I know,” you breathed as you guided his head back to rest against the bunk, and you couldn’t speak above a whisper because your voice was thick with tears. “I know, but just listen to my voice, Din. Just—”

You trailed off as the child suddenly waddled into your line of sight, and you dropped your gaze slightly to find him standing between the Mandalorian’s thighs, right next to the bacta covered wounds. The foundling stared up at the bounty hunter with a furrowed, seemingly determined expression, and then he closed his big brown eyes as he reached for Din’s leg.

“Oh, buddy, don’t,” you started, reaching out to stop him, but Din—Maker, his name felt delicious and forbidden even in your mind—weakly placed his hand on your wrist to stop you.

“It’s… okay,” he panted. “He can help.”

“Help?” You frowned down at the child. How could he help? Was this one of the “powers” the bounty hunter had vaguely mentioned before? You thought the foundling’s ability dealt with physically moving things, not healing, but honestly you could do for a miracle right about now.

The child gurgled a small noise as his three fingers settled over Din’s wound, and the Mandalorian inhaled sharply at the same time that you felt… something. You weren’t sure what it was, but it was like the very air shifted, became magnetic, charged somehow. The air stilled in your lungs as you feared even the barest breath would fracture this fragile spell you were bearing witness to, and you watched with wide eyes as the gashes on the bounty hunter’s legs began to close right in front of you.

Bacta worked fast… but not that fast.

Several still, endless seconds passed as the foundling healed the Mandalorian, but then just as soon as it began, the moment ended. The atmosphere snapped almost tangibly, time jolted back into motion, and the child suddenly started to pitch backward.

“Oh!” you gasped as you lunged forward, your hands cupping the baby and bringing him close to your body. The foundling’s eyes were closed, his face slack, but his little chest still moved up and down with breath.

“He’s okay.”

You snapped your head up, more tears spilling down your cheeks with the motion.

Din was sitting up a little straighter, and his helmet looked squarely at you. His voice sounded stronger, too, and you gaped at him in bewilderment.

“He’s okay,” the Mandalorian repeated when you continued to blink at him. “He usually… tires himself out when he uses his powers.”

“I d-didn’t know he could do that,” you breathed, and your tongue felt like a disembodied lump of flesh in your mouth. “I… wait, how do you feel? A-Are you okay?”

You suddenly realized how close you still were to the bounty hunter, practically kneeling in his lap, but you ignored this as your eyes darted back to his leg. It was a little hard to tell through the dried blood and blue bacta, but it looked like the three gashes had closed altogether, leaving behind faint pink lines.

“I’ll survive,” the bounty hunter sighed, thunking his head back against the bunk again, but he tilted it to the side to regard you still. “Thanks to you.”

“I-I’m not the one who just healed you with magic,” you stuttered incredulously as your cheeks flared hot, and you cuddled the child against your chest even though you realized you knew almost nothing about the apparently powerful foundling.

“No,” Mando said evenly, “but you did charge out into a dark, unknown, dangerous jungle, fight off a pack of wild dogs, and drag both me and the bounty back safely.”

“Well,” you snorted with an edge of hysteria in your voice, and you gestured to the discarded head that lay sprawled against the corner of the fresher. “I don’t know if I’d say he got here safely.”

Maker, you felt a little crazy, hollowed out and wrung dry by the sheer amount of emotions you’d just experienced in a span of a few minutes.

“I’m serious,” the Mandalorian replied. “You… saved my life. I am in your debt.”

“I-I’m not one for debts.” You shook your head to try and clear it, dropping your gaze to the foundling’s face, nuzzled against your sternum. “I don’t like to owe anyone or be owed. You’ve stuck your neck out for me before, so let’s just call it even… Din.”

You saw the bounty hunter freeze out of the corner of your eye, and you bit your cheek until you tasted blood.

You should have known that was too much to ask for.

“Sorry,” you muttered, peeking up at the Mandalorian through your lashes. “You… mentioned your name when you were—”

“I remember,” Mando said, cutting you off, but you couldn’t tell what he was thinking, his expression hidden as always and his voice pitched in a way you didn’t recognize, couldn’t identify.

“Right.” You cleared your throat, feeling the adrenaline starting to drain out of you and be replaced by every ache and pain you had ignored in lieu of survival. “Of course, I can just forget about it. You weren’t exactly in your right mind, after all. I’ll just… using ‘Mando’ is fine for me.”

The Mandalorian’s visor stared you down unflinchingly for what felt like an eternity. Then…

“You can… use my name, if you like,” he said haltingly, then quickly amended himself. “But only when we’re alone, on the ship. I… my name could be a dangerous thing in the hands of my enemies.”

You blinked in shock at the bounty hunter.

“A-Are you sure?” you asked, and you tried to keep the hope out of your voice, but you knew you failed miserably. “O-Only if you’re sure. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You’d thought giving up his name had just been a delusional, dying declaration, and you didn’t want him to regret it. What you said had been true enough. You were fine using “Mando,” even if the traitorous feelings buried deep in your chest said otherwise.

“I’m sure.” The bounty hunter nodded minutely. “I… trust you.”

The admission flooded your whole body with warmth, and goosebumps broke out across your skin. You’d known the Mandalorian trusted you, he wouldn’t have left his ship or his foundling in your care otherwise, but hearing him say the words felt like something out of a dream.

“Okay, then.” You smiled, heart thudding against where the child was pressed into your chest. “Din.”

At the sound of his name, the tension in the Mandalorian’s worn body seemed to bleed out of him entirely, and he sighed as his helmet fell back again.

“Let’s get off this Maker-forsaken planet,” he grumbled.

“I second that,” you chuckled dryly before you slowly clambered to your feet, careful not to slip in Din’s tacky blood or jostle the sleeping baby in your arms. You very gingerly leaned over the prone Mandalorian to set the foundling in his hammock, but you hissed when the movement jarred the bruised or fractured rib in your back.

“What’s wrong?” Din asked below you, and he was so close you could feel the rumble of his modulated voice against the bare skin of your stomach, your tank top having lifted up a fraction.

“Nothing.” You took a quick step backward, trying to put distance between you and the bounty hunter, but now that he was no longer actively dying, you were starting to realize you were a little more beat up then you’d previously thought.

The moment you stepped back on your right leg, your hamstring seized up, and when you went to grab at it, you realized your fingers were a little numb. You glanced down and saw fresh blood dripping down your forearm—your blood, not Mando’s—and the sight of the wound seemed to flip a switch in your brain because a moment later, pain crashed over you like a wave.

“Dank farrik,” Mando cursed lowly as he tried to shove himself up.

“No, no, no, no,” you babbled, holding out your less injured left hand in a gesture to stop him. “Don’t get up so fast.”

“You’re hurt,” he grunted, and you could practically hear the scowl in his voice as he tilted his helmet back to stare at you. “You’re bleeding.”

“I’m fine,” you stressed, even though you could still taste blood on the back of your tongue. “Also, you seriously have no room to talk. You were literally just bleeding out less than five minutes ago.”

“How much bacta do we have left?” he asked, completely ignoring your statement. “We should take care of your injuries before they get any worse.”

“Maker, you’re not even listening to me, are you?” You rolled your eyes as you leaned your shoulder against the bulkhead, but when the Mandalorian started to get up again, you held your hand out once more. “Alright! Alright. Let me at least set the coordinates to meet up with the client and get the ship in the air. I’m pretty sure the jungle is burning down around us as we speak anyway, so the sooner we lift off, the better.”

Din stared up at you silently for a moment like he wanted to argue.

“It will take me two minutes, max,” you reasoned with him. “I won’t pass out or die in that time frame, okay?”

“Fine,” he finally sighed and dropped his chin to his chest. “Just… be careful climbing up there.”

“I’ll try my best,” you snorted, wincing when pain flared through your body, but you still slowly made your way to the ladder.

It took you way longer to climb five rungs than it should have, but you thought not falling back into the cargo bay was a feat in itself, given how every muscle in your arms and legs twitched in pain. The blood pouring down your arm also did nothing to help your grip, nor did your scraped up palms, but you still made it into the cockpit relatively unscathed.

Dawn was just breaking beyond the windows, but you could barely see it through the black smoke that hung thick in the air. Guilt sat heavy in your chest as you saw the charred trees and the birds fleeing the flames overhead, but you told yourself you did what you had to in order to survive.

And it wasn’t like you were walking away scot-free, either. Your arm pounded painfully in time with your slowing pulse, and every time you took a deep breath, you became a little surer that the rib in your back was, in fact, broken.

You punched in the client’s rendezvous coordinates without sitting in the pilot’s chair since you knew if you sat down now there was no way you were getting back up. While you waited for the Razor Crest to power up, you cringed at the blood you were dripping all over the floor, but there was nothing for it at this point. The whole ship would need a thorough scrub down the next time you made a pit stop, but that was a future-you problem. Right now, you were mainly focused on getting off this planetoid and out into orbit without crashing and burning.

You held your breath as the pre-Empire ship rose up above the now smoldering jungle, but no warning alarms or messages sounded. The Razor Crest glided steadily upward, and you leaned heavily on the control panel as you breeched first the clouds and then the atmosphere. Entering orbit rattled the ship and you more than you cared for, but nothing broke off or burst into flame, and before you knew it, you were drifting through the familiar black void of space.

“Thank the kriffing Maker,” you sighed as the autopilot took over, and then you turned and shuffled back to the ladder, exhaustion starting to make the edges of your vision go fuzzy.

Or maybe that was blood loss?

You were a little less graceful with the descent than you were with the ascent, but you at least landed on your feet before you nearly collapsed into the fresher.

“Careful,” Mando’s modulated voice murmured, and suddenly his bare hand was on your left, uninjured elbow, skin against warm skin.

“What are… you doing up?” You frowned as you studied the Mandalorian, trying to make sense of what you were seeing as he led you to sit in the open mouth of his bunk.

“I told you,” he said, reaching over and grabbing another med kit from the fresher. “We need to take care of your injuries before they get any worse.”

“You should be resting,” you grumbled, but you were too tired to put any real heat behind your voice.

“I’m fine,” Din parroted your earlier proclamation back at you. “The kid did a thorough job.”

Then the bounty hunter sat on a crate before you, a crate that hadn’t been there before, and you realized he was no longer wearing a majority of his beskar, save the ever-present helmet, of course. Instead, a faded but clean pair of duraweave clothes covered his body, and the bloodied outfit you’d basically sliced off him was piled up between his feet. It also looked like he had haphazardly tried to mop up some of his blood with the dirty clothes, and you wondered if you’d been up in the cockpit longer than you thought.

“Hey,” you chuckled suddenly, and you distantly noted that your voice was a little slurred with exhaustion. “Looks like I’ll have some new rags after all.”

You giggled a little loopily as you gestured to the Mandalorian’s blood-soaked clothes and then to the blood and dirt your outfit was also currently coated in, but Mando didn’t seem as amused as you were.

“Let me see your arm,” he said as his helmet stared at you impassively, but then he paused and added, “Please.”

“It’s really not that bad,” you tried to argue as you held out your injured limb, but since it was still actively dripping blood, your words didn’t carry much weight. Then the bounty hunter gingerly gripped your wrist with tentative fingers, and you hissed through your teeth as pain lanced up your arm.

“Osik,” Din cursed in a language you didn’t recognize, slowly rotating your arm to take in the extent of the damage. “Did one of those dogs get you? The bastard almost flayed you to the bone in some spots.”

“Yeah, well I shoved two grenades down his throat, so I think we’re even,” you gritted out.

Din froze and lifted his head, your blood, sweat, and dirt-streaked face reflecting back at you from his visor. “You what?” 

He must have really been on death’s door if he didn’t notice or remember you literally blowing the jungle dogs to Tatooine and back, but you just shook your head.

“Story time later,” you huffed, narrowing your eyes as you tried to breathe through the pain. “Bacta time now, please.”

“Right.” Mando jerked back into action, and in the next moment he was shifting into medic-droid mode.

Few words were shared between you two as the Mandalorian tended to your bumps and scrapes. Beside the deep lacerations on your forearm, your palms and knees were scraped bloody from tripping your way through a dangerous jungle in the dead of night. Your upper back was in the same condition since you’d been wearing a tank top when you decided to grapple with blood-thirsty hounds, and when Din accidentally brushed against your lower back, a small whimper squeezed out between your clenched teeth.

“This rib is probably broken,” the bounty hunter said, and there was a heavy quality to his quiet voice.

“Thought as much,” you grunted, trying to sit up straight without breathing too deeply. “Too bad we don’t have a full bacta tank to soak in.”

“I could always… drop you back off on Tatooine,” Mando muttered. “With the payment that I owe you, of course. Should be enough to pay for a full treatment and then some.”

You froze sitting there in the doorway of his bunk. The Mandalorian wasn’t looking at you, too busy double checking the bandage he’d wrapped over the bacta on your forearm, but you could see how rigid his body was as he awaited your answer.

“Do you… want to drop me back off on Tatooine?” you asked hesitantly, the breath shallow in your lungs. You could hear the child snoring softly in the hammock directly behind your head, and the thought of leaving him opened a dark pit inside you.

And that was nothing to say of the thought of leaving the Mandalorian. Of leaving… Din.

Now that you knew his name, the feelings you had done your best to ignore came surging up to the surface, that little voice whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

He told you his name. He trusts you. He wants you here. Maybe he wants you for more than just your skills.

You shoved the thoughts away as quickly as they cropped up, but that didn’t stop something small and fragile from unfurling in your chest. You almost wanted to call it hope.

“I—” Mando started, stopped, fidgeted on his crate, and then sighed as he scooted back a little to stretch out his injured leg. “No, I don’t want to do that. You’re a talented mechanic and… good company. I’ve… enjoyed having you on my crew.”

“Oh.” You blushed as the breath whooshed out of your lungs, leaving you feeling lightheaded and buoyant. “T-Thank you. Current circumstances notwithstanding, I’ve enjoyed being on your crew, too. A-And not just for the payment. Seeing new worlds, as dangerous as they are, was something I never thought I’d get to experience. So, even if the price to pay is a few bumps and scrapes, I think that’s a fair deal.”

“You have a skewed idea of ‘fair,’” the Mandalorian chuckled dryly as he reached down beside him, picked up a pair of his gloves, and slipped them back on.

“No kriff,” you snorted, the scar on the nape of your neck tingling. “But it works out in your favor, so I wouldn’t question it too much.”

“Fine.” Din held up his hands, but then he lowered them to his knees and cocked his head at you.

“What?” you asked when he didn’t say anything for a full minute. His gaze made your skin prickle even if you couldn’t see his eyes, and with each passing moment, you grew acutely more and more aware of how dirty and disheveled you looked and felt.

“Nothing,” he said, fingers flexing against his knees. “Just… thank you. Again. For saving me, the kid, the bounty, and the ship.” 

You fidgeted in discomfort. You didn’t know what to do with praise and compliments, having never really received them before, so you shrugged your shoulders as you picked at the bandage on your arm.

“I told you, we’re even,” you muttered.

“It doesn’t feel that way to me,” he argued, and something about his tone told you he wasn’t going to let this go. “So, how about this: after we drop off this bounty with the client, you can pick the next planet we stop on.”

“Really?” Your eyes flicked up to the bounty hunter and widened. He’d never let you pick a destination before. You’d always just been along for the ride.

Mando nodded. “And make a list of parts and stuff you need to keep the ship running. We’ll stock up wherever we stop off next.”

“Okay.” You grinned as your heart did a little jig in your chest, and you stuck out your bacta-wrapped hand to shake on it. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Din Djarin.”

His name rolled off your tongue like a grain of sand spiraling down a dune, picking up momentum as it went, and it sent a shiver of pleasure straight down your spine. You knew you were playing a losing game with your own heart here, but as you stared into Mando’s visor, you also knew there was no stopping yourself now. You would just have to deal with the future heartbreak.  

The Mandalorian tentatively reached out and grasped your fingers in his gloved ones.

“Deal,” he rumbled back.

“Good.” You nodded as a yawn cracked open your jaw, and you reached up to cover your gaping mouth and scratch your nose. “Now, given the client’s rendezvous coordinates, we should have a few days of rest before we reach our destination, and if you don’t mind, I think I’m going to start right now by taking a well-deserved nap.”

You made to stand up, but Din gently placed his hand on your shoulder to keep you seated on the edge of the bunk.

“Take the cot,” he said as he nodded behind you. “I’m going up to the cockpit to send a message to the client anyway.”

“Are you sure?” you murmured around another yawn.

“I’m sure,” he said, but then his gloved fingers were suddenly ghosting over the bridge of your nose. “By the way, you’ve got a little grease right here. Just thought you should know.”

You went cross-eyed as you tried to draw his finger into focus, but when he stepped back, you noticed the fingertips of his glove were shiny, and glancing down at the hand you used to shake his revealed that your palm bore the same black sheen.

“Hey, this is your grease,” you muttered indignantly, but then Din was pressing gently on your shoulder, guiding you to lay back on the cot, and you went willingly.

“Get some rest,” he said, turning off the bunk lights. “We’ll worry about cleaning up later.”

You tried to grumble something, but exhaustion was starting to tug at your limbs and eyelids, and your body unwound bit by bit as you buried your face in the bounty hunter’s pillow with no remorse.

A moment later, Mando’s boots were clomping up the ladder to the cockpit, but he left some of the cargo bay lights on and the door to the bunk open, like he somehow knew you were afraid of the dark.

The beginnings of a smile tugged at your lips, but you spiraled into sleep before you could fully process the thought.

#din djarin #din djarin/reader #din djarin/you #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian/you #the mandalorian/reader #pedro pascal #star wars #fanfiction #fanfic #my writings

[lapzoli]

the promises of the future

very much based on this piece from @edorazzi‘s mentor au! takes place directly after season 3! just wondering how Bridgette and Marinette’s talk would go!

“Here, my dear, drink this.”

Marinette blinks, looking up at the young woman as she places a cup of tea in front of her. The scent of it is warm and familiar, and she feels the corners of her eyes sting from tears, not an uncommon feeling. 

The woman gives her a sympathetic smile as she takes the seat across from her, folding her hands across the table. Soft music plays in the background of the quaint tea shop they are in, and Marinette is all too aware of how empty it is. 

She bites her lip, digging her nails into the skin of her palms as she stares down at the cup of tea, and the woman bums softly. 

“Take your time,” she assures, reaching for her own drink. “I understand it’s a lot to take in.”

“Will…” Marinette swallows, hating how shaky her voice sounds. She’s supposed to be stronger than this, but she’s not ready. She didn’t think she would ever have to be. “Will you say it again? I can’t...I don’t…”

“Of course, sweetheart.” The woman takes a sip of her drink, and then places it back on the table. “You’ve been through a lot, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, haven’t you?”

She squeezes her eyes shut, willing herself not to burst into tears. She’s Ladybug; she’s meant to be strong and self-reliant. But she’s also only fifteen. 

The woman hums, watching her for a moment. 

“My name,” she begins, “is Bridgette Cheng. I knew Fu as a Guardian and mentor, just like you did. When I heard what had happened in Paris, I had to come see you immediately. He might have believed you’re strong enough to handle this alone, and perhaps you are, but you don’t have to be, Marinette. Ladybugs aren’t meant to hold so much weight.”

Her head snaps up, and her one working brain cell kicks in.

“How do you know who - why would you think - I’m not…” She sputters, shaking her head furiously. “I mean, that’s a weird comparison but-“

The woman, Bridgette, chuckles lightly. 

“Come now, you can trust me,” she assures, “though I understand your reluctance. I would be wary too, but perhaps there is someone who you trust that can vouch for me. If she is willing to break the rules a little.”

Marinette furrows her eyebrows together in confusion, watching as the woman pulls out a little tin of cookies from her purse. 

“You can come out now, you know. I don’t think it will help her anyway if you follow the rules of someone who’s not even here.” 

The young heroine gasps in a mix of horror and surprise as Tikki floats out into the air, and before she can even attempt to scream and grab the kwami and start rambling excuses for the giant bug-creature, Bridgette holds out her hand and the little god of creation gently lays on top of it. 

“Hello, Tikki,” she says softly, voice full of fondness and a bit of sorrow. “It’s been a while.”

Tikki’s smile matches the woman’s tone, and she nuzzles against her cheek as she’s pulled in closer. 

“Hello again, Bridgette,” she murmurs sweetly, looking back at the baffled teenager. “Marinette, it’s alright. I know this is against the rules and I normally wouldn’t encourage this, but under these circumstances, I think it’s okay. You can trust her. She’s my - She was the Ladybug before you.” 

Marinette gawks, looking between the two of them for a good minute, before she shakily reaches out to her cup of tea and brings the now lukewarm drink to her lips. 

“Oh. Okay,” she manages to say. “But how did you-“

“I knew what to look for,” interrupts Bridgette kindly. “I promise you no one else would have realized your identity. Also, I’m a little less affected by the kwamis’ magic thanks to my time as Ladybug.” 

“Right.” Marinette stares down at her cup. “So. You’re here.”

“I am.” Bridgette opens the tin and offers a cookie to their kwami, who had settled on the table comfortably between them. “Fu was your mentor, and I’m sure he did his best in nudging you in the right direction. Or rather, what he believed to be the right direction.” She hums. “He is a good man at heart, Marinette, don’t get me wrong, but he has his flaws. And he certainly saw something in you, and I like to say I see it too. One bug to another.”

Tikki makes a little noise of protest, and Bridgette gently pokes her forehead in response. 

“You met him far before my partner and I did when we were your age. I must admit, I’m a little jealous you got such helpful transformations and upgrades when we weren’t so fortunate. But Fu was learning, just like we all were.” She glances down at the kwami. “But a yoyo, really, Tikki? I would have killed for that.” 

Tikki fixes her with a flat stare as she goes, “More like killed with it. You weren’t exactly the most clear-headed person back then, you know!”

“So I would have bopped Chat’s head a little more often, oh well!” Bridgette remarks. She huffs as if she’s annoyed but by the amused look in her eyes, Marinette can tell it’s all just a jest. “This is overwhelming, I’m sure, so allow me to be clear with you. I want to be here for you in a way Fu couldn’t. He had to keep his secrets, knowing Hawkmoth would be after him and the miraculous. Because of that, he also had to keep his distance. You and me, we don’t have to be like that. I know what you’re going through a little better than Fu does, in regards to being Ladybug. It’s a lot of responsibility for a teenager. At your age, you should be worrying about homework and crushes, not the state of the world. Let me be your shoulder to lean on, Marinette, someone to ask questions when Tikki wants to keep her mouth shut, for good or bad, or when you just need someone to talk to in general. I’ll be here for you, I swear.”

It’s that, that simple line that promises so much, that finally makes Marinette break, and her shoulders shake as she bursts into tears, covering her face with her hands. 

Bridgette lets her cry, knowing this has been a long time coming, perhaps since the very first day, and takes a sip of her tea, glancing down at the kwami on the table as she does. 

Tikki stares back, and they have a silent conversation, much like they did years ago, and Bridgette lets herself wonder if she is doing the right thing or if she is putting them all at risk even more. 

.

“Where are we?” Marinette asks, now that she’s settled down a bit, finally taking the time to look around in the empty shop. “How long has it been since you’ve been Ladybug? How come I never heard of any recent miraculous activity before? Who did you fight against?”

“Breathe, Marinette,” interrupts Tikki, putting her paws on her charge’s hands. “One thing at a time.”

“It’s fine, Tikki,” assures Bridgette, chuckling. “Well, first, we’re in my mother’s tea shop. I never told her I was Ladybug, but in a way, I think she always knew. Moms can be scary like that sometimes. But this is a safe place, Marinette. It’s no old man’s secret massage parlor, but it’s comfortable.”

She hums. 

“Mm. As for your second question, I want to say ten, fifteen years? Since I became Ladybug, at least. I was around your age, I believe. My goodness, how time goes by, doesn’t it? It’s been a year already for you, and you’ve been through a lot. There should have been more time to prepare you for this, and I’m sorry there wasn’t, sweetheart.”

Marinette nods, trying not to cry again. She needs to be stronger than that. Bursting into tears every five minutes won’t help her.

“As for your last two questions…” Bridgette sighs, glancing down at their kwami. “Well, Fu was always good at covering up what he wanted to keep secret, for the most part. But also, our villain - a man we knew as Papillion - was less of a showman than your Hawkmoth. He preferred striking fear more subtly than direct attacks in the day. My partner and I preferred it that way, keeping the people of Paris oblivious in a way. Anyone who really saw us chalked us down to late night dreams or rumors. People knew of us, but we were never public figures like you and your partner are.�� 

Marinette takes a moment to let that information sink in, and one thing sticks out to her.

“You said your villain’s name was Papillion?” She asks, eyes widening. “That’s literally...oh my god, did he have the same miraculous?” Bridgette meets her gaze, and that’s answer enough. “How?”

“Papillion was smart and always refused to admit defeat, even until the end,” says Bridgette, sighing heavily. “He had time to hide his miraculous somewhere Chat Noir and I couldn’t find it, and refused to tell us where he had hid it even after we took him in. We considered it a hollow victory, one we could live with, until last year and Hawkmoth introduced himself to Paris. If we had tried a bit harder..”

“You can’t blame yourself,” says Tikki, flying up to her former bearer’s face. “You said it yourself; he was always smarter than he admitted and hated losing. Even if he aimed for victory, he wasn’t so naive he wouldn’t have a backup plan! Plus, he was a grown man and you were still teenagers! He may have outsmarted you in some ways, but you still beat him in the end!”

“Thank you, Tikki,” says Bridgette softly, stroking the top of her kwami’s head. “I appreciate you saying that.”

“What was it like? Defeating him?” Marinette tries to look as determined as she wants to feel. “Was it hard?”

Bridgette is silent for a moment, considering what to say without revealing too much.

“It was...a whirlwind,” she says finally. “We were filled with relief and joy, of course, but we were also exhausted and…” She thinks of when the smoke cleared and they saw just who was the man behind the mask, of her partner’s sharp inhale. “We were overwhelmed, I suppose, is the best way to say it. Happy we finally finished our mission, but saddened that this meant Chat and I had to say goodbye.”

“Oh.” Marinette deflates, biting her lip. “You...You and your partner…?”

“Oh, no! I meant, say goodbye to us as Ladybug and Chat Noir, since we had to give back our miraculous to Fu,” explains Bridgette, shaking her head frantically. “Chat and I...we already knew our identities by that time. We didn’t always, but things happened, and we were sort of left with no choice after a point. We still...We still talk, in case you’re wondering.”

“Good. I’m glad.” Marinette lifts her teacup to her lips, only to see that it’s empty, and she reaches for one of Bridgette’s cookies instead. “I can’t imagine saying goodbye. I did that once, and I regretted it almost right away.”

Tikki flies up and buries herself in the crook of Marinette’s shoulder, nuzzling her cheek in some sort of comfort. The early days had been rough, that was no secret, to them or any of Paris. Even so, the kwami keeps her eyes on her former bug, watching her with something akin to regret.

“Like I said, it was a whirlwind.” Bridgette’s smile is almost sad as she looks past Marinette’s shoulder, at nothing in particular. “I’ll be honest with you, Marinette. Even if Chat and I hadn’t known our identities yet, I would have taken my earrings then and there to tell him who I was before we lost each other forever. If I didn’t, I think I would always regret it.”

She meets Tikki’s gaze, unnerving.

“We were told how important it was to keep our identities a secret, and that’s true, but it’s not fair to try and carry so many burdens by yourself when there is someone right there who can help you,” she says. “You don’t have to share your identity with anyone, of course, especially since you had Fu, and Tikki, and now hopefully me. But there are only so many things you can share with someone clearly older than you, right?”

Bridgette finally looks at the current heroine, listening intently.

“You are partners for a reason, Marinette. Don’t ever forget that.” She glances at her watch and hums, reaching for her purse. “It’s time for me to go, but I will be here whenever you need me.”

She presses a business card to the table, sliding it close to the teenager, who looks up at her in panic.

“Don’t worry, this isn’t goodbye,” she promises, voice kind. “But you’ve been through a lot the last few days. The last thing we want is to overwhelm you even more. You can reach out to me whenever you need. And whenever you’re ready to talk about everything, whatever that may be for you, I will be here. And if you can’t reach me, you can come to this shop. Tikki can show you the way.”

“...alright,” says Marinette, barely above a whisper as she clutches the card in her hands so tightly it nearly crumples. “I….thank you, Bridgette.”

The bell on the door rings sweetly as the young woman leaves, and Marinette stares at nothing in particular for a moment, her kwami waiting patiently on her shoulder.

“Marinette?” She finally calls, tentatively. “Are you alright?”

It’s a stupid question. It’s always been, always will be.

“No,” answers the heroine, voice shaking. She won’t cry. Not again, not yet. “But I will be.”

Marinette looks down at the card, trying to smooth out the wrinkles she caused. 

This woman - Bridgette - is different from Fu. Both have their secrets and inside jokes with their kwamis, but whereas Fu was evasive and cunning, Bridgette is direct and warm, like an older cousin finding you alone in the guest bedroom at a family party. A stranger, but familiar at the same time. 

“I’ll be alright, I think.”

She’s in good hands, she knows it.

#miraculous ladybug #edorazzi #mentor au #marinette dupain cheng #bridgette cheng #myupload #my fanfiction #i was in such a bad headspace all night and i kinda went overboard in writing a lot to distract myself lmao rip

[flyonthewallmedstudent]

Watching House as a Physician.  Season 2 Episode 3. Infectious diseases & Respiratory.

Welcome to another episode of medicine done badly.  I’ve been watching House on Amazon prime.  Got the subscription during the pandemic, as like everyone else, I’ve garnered an online shopping habit now. 

Alright. In the opening scene a young roof worker falls off the roof presumably due to acute shortness of breath. i.e. trouble breathing. (why do we use the term shortness of breath? it’s the english version of the greek term dyspnoea - the actual preferred language of Western doctors. Fuck do I know why we like Greek and Latin so much. Moving on.) Then cut to Dr. Cuddy examining him in the back of the ambulance. 

This would never happen in real life. Yes you can be on the scene and handover to the paramedics or EMT when they arrive as a doctor. But they would take over. I personally wouldn’t have the balls to look after a patient in a different environment, different resources and field I’m not familiar with. You can have field Emergency docs - but requires different training. 

Also, ethically, you’re not meant to treat family or friends. Dr. Cuddy later in the episode gets a bit emotionally involved - this is why we don’t treat people close to us. We lose objectivity. We make mistakes. And you see later see Cuddy do some pretty bad ones. 

I feel like much of this episode is not really IM. THere’s less differential diagnoses being made. More side tracks into trauma, emergency, intensive care or vascular surgery. 

Anyhoo. Trauma and emergency would manage the fall and post fall traumatic injuries. And the trauma protocol was either not shown or completely off in this episode. Surgeons don’t seem to exist in House, at least not very much. Similarly, no other doctors exist except surgeons in Grey’s anatomy.  Also you can’t clear a C Spine clinically, which is what Dr. Cuddy does in the back of the ambulance. You’d need a CT first and clearance both radiological (by a radiologist) and a clinician. 

Aaaanddd, you can’t just listen to the chest and go no pneumothorax (air in lung or collapsed lung) - yes it’s reassuring, but again you’d need imaging to confirm this, given how serious a condition this is. It is realistic to consider in the setting of a fall, particularly if there are rib fractures that can puncture the lung.

Once the more critical injuries are managed, we would look after the IM side to things. 

So. Finally.. differential diagnoses.

Takes what seems and feels like days before they finally sit down and go through differentials. Really not much on that white board. Dark fingers, broken ribs, fever and lung infiltrates. Time line’s not clear on when he developed the fever.

Presenting complaint isn’t really addressed. It could be: - Dyspnoea, leading to the fall, he’s requiring O2 via nasal prongs, which suggests that he’s hypoxic (this is definitely odd in a young guy who’s normally very physical fit if he works as labourer). so much to unpack here, but they never get into this well.  Post fall, Cuddy notices his ring and pinky finger becoming dusky, which becomes very central in this episode. Very few things would cause this. pains me that they do no differentials on a white board for this alone. 

Then a lot of throwing around medical terms. 

PTT prolonged and Fibrinogen off. These are markers of your coagulation pathway and signs that you’re not forming the clots the way you should if you have an injury.  DIC is also thrown around. What is DIC? Disseminated intravascular coagulopathy. Certainly severe sepsis and trauma can cause this and lead to severe bleeding. It will throw off your coagulation pathways (things that stop bleeding). It’s not common. I’ve treated it once, while I was rotating in ICU, it is not standard ward medicine practice. Standard therapy is fresh frozen plasma (FFP) and even large metropolitan hospitals only have a limited supply. It’s a huge concern for surgery and post-op (as you patient will just not stop bleeding after you cut them open, and if not treated, potentially bleed to death). Cuddy mentions ARDS. Acute respiratory distress syndrome, it could be a complication, but it’s not a cause. Again, falls more into the realm of critical care (a la ICU). However, patient had SOB prior to the fall. Finally HOuse makes the observation. of “what if he was sick before he had his run in with gravity...” Everyone jumps to Pneumonia. And this is where it gets confusing.  If he was unwell, the minute he entered the emergency department with a fever and hypoxia, they would have worked him up for any garden variety pneumonia, bacterial or viral. Cultures would have been sent and imaging. Any young hypoxic patient would prompt a closer look at the chest. And no one waits that long to start antibiotics - “sepsis kills” is a slogan often used around hospitals. You have to initiate empirical therapy within 30 mins, to reduce mortality and morbiditiy. 

Ordering an Echocardiogram (USS of the Heart) also makes no sense in the context of a lung infection. I would order one, but not to look at the lungs.

Then there’s the most unrealistic thing about this series. Doctors breaking into patient homes.

It is however, a good way to showcase social history. It’d be boring to watch a doctor ask the patient outright about their living situation etc, but it’s far more interesting to see exactly how they live. We try as much as possible to illustrate to each other and ourselves what the living environment and working environment of our patients are like. 

In the context of infection, a good social history can point out exposure. As they exemplify by showing dead rodents and mould. This leads to 2 further differentials: Rat bite fever (caused by streptobacillus, something you’d see in the US, but probably not anywhere else), it’s an unrealistic differential in general. And the 2nd is aspergillosis.  Okay..  So aspergillus is a mould commonly found in our environment. In fact it’s everywhere around us. 

THere’s few times when it’s an issue.  It is a concern in respiratory syndromes like asthma or bronchiectasis. And also as an opportunistic infection in immunocompromised individuals. in the context of asthma, it’s not so much the aspergillus itself that causes issue, it’s our body’s over reaction. It’s a hypersensitivity issue that causes inflammation in the lungs or a pneumonitis. We even gave it a name. Allergic bronchopulmonary aspergillosis. It’s still badness, but it doesn’t happen that quickly. We also have specific tests for this, which were obviously not considered in this episode of medicine done badly. In the immunocompromised host (steroid therapy in transplant patients or those on chemo, etc.), you can get the invasive mould as an opportunistic infection.  I don’t really understand why they think it would be the case here. Also, killing the bug with heavy duty anti fungals will only give more issues rather than do anything. They start him on amphotericin. this is not standard practice.  And now it flips to why amphotericin is not standard practice or first line treatment for invasive aspergillosis. The patient has now become anuric (not making any urine). (First line drug by the way is voraconazole, superior efficacy in trials with a lower mortality rate and ADRs) Also, note that they have just jumped straight to dire renal failure from the amphotericin. No work up. That said, heavy drugs like amphotericin are often a cause, but  It’s often temporary with the appropriate supportive measures (stop insulting agents, give hydration, monitor fluid balance), reversible, even if you require temporary dialysis or haemofiltration. Anyways, would get into AKI another day, that’s a whole other post in and of itself.  Then his hand is apparently “dying.” There’s pain on light touch, but it’s not a cold, pulseless limb. Or discoloured. doesn’t add up. This now enters vascular surgeon territory. Again. It’s interesting that there’s never any referrals to any other teams. If he has good circulation, I would imagine they would try to save the hand and consider other differentials. 

The only time I can think of an emergency amputation in this situation is necrotising fascitiis. That’s the only thing that would occur that rapidly  AND necessitate losing tissue or limb.  With a young person who’s this ill, there’s often multiple subspecialties involved by this point. I’m also surprised he’s not in ICU.

Then there’s a buncha filler scenes of the cast of house getting emotional. Ho my god, they’ve taken the hand of a young 20 something physical labourer. Indeed, this is badness. Unlike House, we actually are trained to always consider how a patient’s illness impacts their activities of daily living and livelihood. 

I find the general population assumes that we practice medicine in a vacuum, we merely treat the clinical illness and ignore everything else. They imagine that we all must be like house. 

Actually we try to put things in perspective as much as possible and knowing our limitations in this area, we often enlist the help of friends - physiotherapists, occupational therapists and social workers. They never exist on TV or on the movies. Ever. Unless it’s to portray how terrible it is to be a social worker.  From time to time in this episode, Cuddy laments that being chief of medicine is too administrative and she hasn’t been a doctor in years. That also doesn’t happen in real life. If you’re chief you’re still a doctor. You have admin shit to do deal with yes, but you still practice. It’s like being chief resident, in all the TV shows with one of these, you still seem them working as residents, be it scrubs or grey’s anatomy. 

Back to the differential. They finally get to endocarditis. Culture negative to be precise. That indeed would explain the bilateral dusky fingers that led to unnecessary amputation. Septic emboli. 

Going to stop here, more out of exhaustion now. I’ve created quite a lengthy post. Happy to reblog thoughts on culture negative endocarditis on request later. This is a worthy topic to study up on for students or residents. At least review Duke���s criteria and think about your clinical features like Roth Spots and Janeway lesions or Ouch Osler’s nodes. 

The ending is also a far fetched connection to make, but is one that we would consider. In fact, we would ask in detail every time from day one - have you had any exposure to animals. It’s very rare to see someone so young be that sick out of the blue when you’re immunocompetent and have no underlying predisposing conditions. If there’s no focal source, then we would even ask about injectable recreational drugs, exotic travels, sexual health. 

Most of the time, patients that sick are honest to their doctors. 

But what about..

Frankly, much as we lie as humans, when our lives our on the line, we’re generally pretty honest (sometimes too honest) with the people we want to save us. 

Any patient who is young and comes to hospital requiring inpatient admission, they’d be investigated by subspecialties with expertise in certain areas such as infectious disease. The dept of infectious disease would either be home team, or all over this patient as they special in the realm of both common and rare infectious diseases, culture negative endocarditis would have been considered before a hand amputation.

The term, “department of diagnostic medicine is laughable,” particularly when they consider it the only department in the world in the show. 

In actuality, it’s a department that is universal and exists everywhere. it’s Internal medicine. Dr. Vivek Murthy, the next surgeon general (and also the last one under Obama) is an internal medicine physician. Ken Jeong of Community and the Hangover fame is also a physician of internal medicine. 

Beginning to get the sense that most episodes are going to end with a diagnosis that is either infectious disease, rheumatology or haematology. But generally those tend to be most interesting and give the most plot twists or meaty differentials V.s. a stroke or acute myocardial infarction is fairly straightforward to diagnose. 

This is a very twisty episode in all the wrong directions. 

Dyspnoea is a very common presenting complaint. There’s a properly done approach to this in the podcast by the Curbsiders by the way. 

#medblrs #medblr