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#i hate feeling so exhausted all the time. its so much worse since i also feel so depressed always too

hijackalx · 7 months

Text

*SOME DURGE QUEST SPOILERS*

***NONCON AND DRUG USE MENTIONS***

GORTASH SFW HEADCANONS:

ok to start i think when he was a prisoner his hair got rlly long and unkept and he hateddd it so the minute he escaped he chopped that shit off himself and thats why its so unruly lol (*EDIT he always cuts his own hair is what im sayin)

this man is such a taurus like everything about him screams taurus. has a taurus stellium fosho

would listen to superheaven

hes also sooo jenny by studio killers, disco man by remi wolf, happiness by the 1975 coded with Durge 😩😩

with durge hes also giving bf that ur dad hates but like thats canon. i think he likes that hes able to influence durge to the point that they rebel lol. the type of boy u run away with when ur younger

probably BLASTED jet black heart by 5SOS on repeat when Durge disappeared LMFAOO

also i kind of feel like the fearless buff to his clothing is more an insight to his character rather than him needing magic to not be fearful bcz he literally got the shit beat out of him everyday and lived in HELL how can he not be desensitized to everything at that point 😭😭😭 it does not get much worse than that my boy

hes so thique like hes just a big boned dude. tiddies SO fat too EUGH + thick shoulders/arms. he feels so warm and safe i just know it i just KNOW it gurl

also idk if it was supposed to happen but in my latest playthrough during the fight with him he dropped his bow and just started beating the shit out of us 😭😭😭😭 all hands baby like WHAT 😭😭 so i like to think thats his preferred method of fighting idk if thats canon tho i feel like i seen somebody talking abt that before but mightve just been another hc

occasionally does drugs. likes the ones that make him feel really elated (idk what theyre called in bg3 its some kind of dust or something) ALSO HC THAT HE WAS ON SOMETHING WHEN HE WROTE RHAT FUCKED UP NOTE TO FRANC (WAS THAG HIS NAME U GUYS KNOW THE NOTE) HE WAS OBVIOJSLY TRIPPING BALLSSSSS

lots of body hair…… everywhere……. straight and black body hair. that is so sexy to me let me smell the pheromones in your armpits king LMFAO (i think theres something wrong with me)

going off of rhat yes i think he smells good (DIVINE, even) as a woman that is feral and in heat all the time. but to normal ppl he may smell kind of weird. not STINKY stinky but like when u dont shower and ur natural scent starts to mix with the perfume/cologne ur wearing SORRY 😭😭😭 im trying to be realistic here. or maybe like when u wake up and didnt shower the night before and u can still smell the perfume/cologne u put on yesterday. basically what im saying is he might need to shower

hes just so masculine it drives me crazy I LOVE MEN !!!!!!!!!! I LOVE EEENERM. ME E WN

love language:

giving = lowkey getting acts of service vibes here but u didnt hear it from me 🤫🤐 gift giving too. tav is just his widdle babie and he wants to make sure theyre the happiest they can be 🥺😩

receiving = acts of service LMAO give and get back type of shit

relationship wise i think he is the most doting and sweetest person. like tav will never have to worry abt anything ever again bcz he will handle everything. takes care of them cuz they are his king/queen 😌

GORTASH NSFW HEADCANONS:

yeah going off that last hc he is sweet outside the bedroom but a menace in it. its just the way he is. its probably exhausting too 😩 like if u ask him to be gentler/less intense he will try for a while but probably wont enjoy it as much. he doesnt like to hold back.

i WILL say tho ☝🏻🤨 i think when he gets close to finishing he gets a little more soft/loving. he just has to get his badness out first yall its fine

HIGH libido wants to smash all the time. he also (POSSIBLE NONCON MENTION !!!!!!!) thinks that since ur his u should be willing to give it up whenever he wants it. (NONCON MENTION OVER) i think in the bedroom he sees u as a servant even if ur considered his equal normally. like hes a chosen of bane he has to feel like he has control over u in SOME way

can be selfish depending on his mood. sometimes he doesnt see u as anything other than a toy (lowkey hard for me to admit but i NEVA LIE GIRLS !!!!! 🙅🙅🙅) like can be such a fucking asshole about it too

BUT !!! when he is feeling generous he is soooo generous. EUGH like he will make sure u enjoy urself!!!! probably multiple times !!!!!!!!!!!!

dont know why nobody else has said he has a daddy kink. so obvious like call him daddy ms thing he will nut so hard. oh corruption kink too. like can u imagine Durge being so innocent when they first met cuz they were never allowed to get close to anybody and hes just sooo into it HELLO i got to write that fic NEOW

omg breeding kink too give him heirs. will fuck the shitttt out of u in a mating press. probably comes a lot too almost impossible not to get pregnant with him LMAO

likes to pick u up and fuck u. manhandling king. also will do the faerun equivalent to coke and wants u to do it w him then fuck nasty afterwards

i feel like he doesnt last an extremely long time. 15-20 mins is THE MOST youre getting out of him lol he just gets very excited (which is lowkey kind of cute??)

do i even have to say that this man is packing schmeat. heavy dick. heavy balls. allow me to bear some of that weight for u my liege 🤲🏻🧎

ORIN BONUS ????:

mostly nsfw

ok i didnt originally plan to add orin but listen….. gortash is a charismatic guy….. imagine orin was into him too LISTEN ! like shes jealous asf of Durge in that sense too not just bcz of them being bhaal’s fav. like when i think abt them i just am getting a vibe okay. this trio……..

every time she sees gortash and Durge acting close and doing all their yucky lovesick shit she just gets soooo mad. now imagine she shifts into Durge to get gortash to fuck her. yeah… yall seeing the vision? would he ever find out ?? imagine that was why he hates orin so much?? he doesnt want to tell Durge (cuz thats cheating hes not a cheater duh 🙄 plus hes scared theyll be mad at him) and thats why his explanations as to why he hates orin are so vague

#bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate #enver gortash #x reader #gortash #gortash x durge #gortash x tav #gortash x reader #headcanons #bg3 headcanons #my headcanons #dark urge x gortash

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asimpwithfreetime · 1 year

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So what if you made Jake, Neytiri, Lo ‘ak, Tsireya, Spider, Kiri, Tonowari, Tuk, and Aonug try human food?

When I read this I said: I NEED to do this request. So here I go.

Quick note: this is the longest headcanon post I have ever made, it took me three days to write it and the worst part is that I am not even exhausted, I am a fanfic-writer-monster that feeds off of y’all energy 🤠

Avatar characters trying human food

Jake Sully

He had tried human food in his human form, but he never had tried it in his avatar. And obviously Norm hadn’t told him that human food doesn’t taste the same and it affects differently to Na’vi. Sometimes it doesn’t have an effect, other times they throw up or worse.

He tried a sandwich for the first time, a simple ham, mayonnaise and cheese sandwich. When he first tasted it, he didn’t think it was the same taste he remembers.

Luckily, this sandwich didn’t make him throw up or have diarrhea or anything. But the taste is something he won’t forget. It felt so different that he almost shed a tear thinking that he would never eat anything human with the same taste again.

He is obviously the one that introduces human foods, or ideas of cooking to the Omatikaya, not in a offensive or forceful way. He just shows them the things he did, some people find it funny, others interesting and also some want to try it.

Neytiri

At first, she doesn’t like the idea and eyes Jake carefully. She isn’t fond of humans and she doesn’t want to try their food. What if it’s poisonous?

After Jake insists, she tries a cheeseburger. She forces Jake to explain the whole process of how it is made, that way she will decide if she is going to bite into it.

After Jake has explained the bread with its sesame seeds, the burger and the cheese, Neytiri feels pleased enough to eat it. She doesn’t like where cheese comes from.

Anyways, she gives the smallest bite she can muster, even though it is halfway down the cheeseburger since it is to a human scale. She things the flavor is odd and may gag a little bit, but she doesn’t hate it so much.

Lo’ak

Lo’ak is quite eager to try human food. He wants to see the good part of sky people, just like his father was once. Maybe, subconsciously, he wants to be like him. Following his footsteps.

He would try some spaghetti, easy recipe that Jake could follow on a human-sized kitchen without making the biggest mess to ever exists. With the help of Norm and other scientists, the spaghetti bowl is ready to be eaten.

Lo’ak doesn’t wait for it to cook down, nor he is interested in what has been used to make it. He burns his mouth, cursing under his breath as he takes a sip of his drink. “Darn thing!” He says.

Once it has cool down a little bit, he will try to take the spaghetti with his hand and he begins eating. It might be one of the flavors that gets better and not worse. He continues eating, not seeing the huge mess he is making.

Tsireya

She finds human food quite funny and as Lo’ak asks her to try it, she is curious about how it will taste. She is never the one to pass on an opportunity to try new things.

They made her try something sweet, just like her. She tried pancakes. She though the idea of a dough so soft was cute. She toyed the pancakes with a fork, mixing up the chocolate syrup and the whipped cream.

Once it is time to eat it, she takes a spoonful in her mouth, eager to taste something that smelt so good. To her luck, the taste is almost she same. Not used to such a sugary treat, she is a little bit overwhelmed but so much sugar.

But after all, she finds it tasty, but she doesn’t like how sweet it is. She thinks it way to sweet. (Don’t throw the pancakes away, she will munch on them even after saying so).

Spider

He is human, so he has tried tons of human foods. So this time he will try something new, ramen. It took Norm ages to make it, but there it was. And it smelt perfectly.

Spider isn’t really up for the idea, he has grown used to Na’vi flavors more than human now. When he first tries it he doesn’t like it. He also doesn’t know how to eat ramen properly and his noodles splash all the time against the soup, making a huge mess around him.

He isn’t happy about it, he knows it tastes delicious but he isn’t happy with the way he is making a mess. He feels a little bit ashamed and pretends like he doesn’t like the food so he can get up, clean it and nobody can see it.

He has a secret stash of pre-cooked ramen just to try it again.

Kiri

Kiri is the one to try all kinds of new things and food is one of them. As she saw Spider eating ramen, she wanted to try it too.

The smell made her smile sweetly and she tasted it with a soft smile on her face. Sadly the mixture of textures and flavors wasn’t something that Na’vi took well. She threw up.

She knew it was delicious and she was willing to try more “simple” foods and not ones that mixed so many flavors at the same time.

She was sad that she could try complex foods, but she isn’t going to give up in her journey of trying.

Tonowari

He isn’t a big fan of sky people or their food, but he is a mighty warrior that doesn’t say no to a challenge, specially when the former Toruk Makto challenges him personally.

Deep down, Tonowari is excited to try fried chicken, whatever could that be. The smell doesn’t actually appeal to him, making him gag and furrow his brows.

The fried chicken piece looks like a toy on Tonowari’s hand, so small that he eats it all in one bite. At first he is overwhelmed with the taste and gets close to throwing up, the oily sensation on his tongue almost unbearable.

But then he started chewing, taking his time to taste it and when he shallows he is smiling. He likes it, it is a little bit to oily to be considered one of his favorites but he does like it.

Tuk

Tuk saw Kiri try sky people food and she is interested in trying some. Norm though of an age appropriate dish to make her and he made dinosaur nuggets for her. Or as he said “this nutritious dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets”.

She was happy, playing around with her food a little bit before taking the first bite. She liked it, biting off the stegosaurus head and then whaling about biting off his head. She was sad about the poor dinosaur she just ate.

Ketchup was a sauce she wanted to try dipping her nuggets in, she didn’t like the taste nor the way that her nuggets looked like they were injured.

She is willing to try new foods but she doesn’t want to torture more dino nuggies.

Ao’nung

He HATES human food from the start. Won’t eat it, won’t smell it and won’t look that way. But oh…. Lo’ak called him a coward. Nobody calls Ao’nung a coward.

With his pride hurt, he makes the attempt to eat some sky people’s food. He is trying some grilled pork with fries and he absolutely devours it. He loves it. But as soon as Lo’ak looks at him he pretends to be gaging.

He is going to try so many more flavors. Until he finds those foods that don’t sit right with Na’vi and he ends up throwing up. Then he’ll stop.

Never trying it again ig. Well, maybe, just maybe, he’ll sneak around with Tuk to get more food. Just maybe.

Avatar Taglist: @amerieee @simp-erformarvelwomen

#avatar x reader #avatar james cameron #avatar #avatar 2 #avatar ( james cameron )#jake sully #avatar neytiri #avatar headcanons #ao’nung #neteyam sully #lo’ak headcannons #avatar tsireya #tuktirey #avatar tonowari #kiri sully #spider socorro

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insertsomthinawesome · 4 months

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I'M BAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAACK!!! Okay so honestly I have been very very inconsistent over the years with just disappearing for periods of time due to various things 😂 So it probably seemed pretty normal to most people.

But it felt different on my side, so I'm excited to be back in business. I took a month long hiatus! 31 days of not drawing digital art. Its not something I talk about on here? But I've been suffering from some serious long term Art Burnout for.... a really really long time. Long enough that I should've taken a break probably years ago. It finally got so bad that I could barely draw. I was scared to do it (cause it always looked "bad" in my eyes [i'll come back to that]) and doing it was exhausting and disheartening.

I talked it over with somebody and realized that the fear and anger and frustration I felt towards my own artwork was uh. Not Normal or Healthy. And I finally committed to taking a real break for once.

I still drew a little bit by hand? Traditional art has always felt like it has lower stakes for me (i don't often share it online, and sometimes I don't even share it with friends) so I did some of that when I felt like it. But Digital art was completely off the table.

I had put such an immense pressure on myself to make my digital art perfect, to make as much of it as quickly as possible to satisfy something. It wasn't fun anymore. I'm proud of what i've made over the years! But for a long time now the stuff I've been making was made while hating every second of making it. With some rare exceptions.

I hated my art! It was a combination of Perfectionism, taking in too many external expectations, and the burnout. If you hate doing something its kinda hard to love it even when you want too lol. It wasn't "Bad" in the sense that the quality was low and it was ugly! It was "Bad" in the sense that it was unhealthy for me to keep doing it at that point in time.

I'm glad to report though, that with my hiatus officially over as of Wednesday last week: I am once again. In Love. With doing art, and being an artist :)

I put off taking a break for years cause I was scared that taking a break would mean that I would never achieve all the things I wanted to do with art. I was scared it was a stupid and lazy thing to do that would mean I'd never achieve my dreams. And Also even though I kinda hated drawing, I also loved making art. Its a weird duality that I can't even really explain??? I hated it but I also loved it. I wanted it but I also wanted to run from it. It wasn't until I was more mature and had more clarity and insight (and unfortunately also until the problems got worse) that I was finally able to let go of those fears and just do it.

And I'm really really glad I did. It was everything I needed. And I hope to strike a better balance in the future with art. Taking more breaks when I need them, or just when other things have my attention like reading or Video games (Some star rail got played during this time xD)

From the outside things probably aren't going to be that different?? At this point I don't really have any sure plans to post anything I've been drawing since my Hiatus ended. I might or I might not xD I'm still a hobbyist artist taking things at her own pace, but I hope that it shows how much happier I am :)

Whumptober 2023 is being officially put to rest by this post btw! I was in major burnout when that event started, and I'm ready to just, move on from all the past expectations I'd shoved on my shoulders. If I feel like filling any of the prompts or going back to any of the ideas I'd come up for it I will! But I'm not going to worry about doing it unless the desire sets in. Thanks to everybody who's been so kind to me throughout my time on here as an artist! Ya'lls tags and screaming and kind words, the fanfic, the asks and the responses? Its been fantastic :) You guys have made me laugh, smile, and cry tears of joy. I hope from here that things only get better and sweeter! And if I have bad days again, that's okay too.

Here's to 2024 and whatever it may bring ya'll :D 🎉🎉✨✨🧡💜

#isa screams #long post #gif #flashing #i think? Lemme know if I'm incorrect on that one alksdjfLKSJDJDSG #I don't normally talk this much so its kinda strange?#its kinda nice to be more honest about this stuff though #I'm a bit more of a private person so its hard to find the balance between wanting to discuss things openly and honestly #but with the fact that I don't owe the entire world an explanation for everything I do #its a tricky thing #but today I felt like doing this and I think that's okay #if i regret it I just won't do it again alsdjLSDJLFJSGSDG #thanks if you read this! I appreciate it!#I'm a pretty smalltime artist relatively. So sometimes it feels as though it doesn't mater what i say or express.#But hm. I doubt its really that simple or bleak #And if I don't respect myself then well. Who will right?#And I want to learn how to be happy with how little or how much I get #part of the reason I've done so poorly mentally as an artist is chasing numbers and outside praise instead of asking the harder questions #am i happy with what i do? what I make? Who I am #I'm going to probably be working on those questions and problems for the rest of my life.#But thats okay. Thats not a bad thing :)

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red-riding-wood · 1 year

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Hi! :) first of all, I love your blog and your writing is amazing!

I'm obsessed with peaky blinders for years now and i would love to request a fic about arthur shelby (cause he's my comfort character :') is it possible that you write a fic/imagine about him and a younger female reader (in her early 20s) that had a traumatic past and as a result resorted to unhealthy coping mechanisms (hurting herself, drinking,.etc.). Arthur and her are dating, he gets more and more protective over her cause he wants to keep her safe and as they get more intimate with each other (smut) and he notices her scars etc., he tries to make her feel more comfortable by praising her. So a mix of feelings, smut and a slight power dynamic (arthur is more dominant/caring and the reader is a little insecure). I hope that makes sense!

Also, if the topics make you uncomfortable/you don't like to write about said things, i can totally understand that you turn my request down. :)

~sending you positive vibes ! ♡

Ruined

moodboard by @shelbydelrey

Arthur Shelby x F!Reader I Peaky Blinders

Warnings: smut, mentions of self harm and scars, allusions to past sexual assault, angst, reader has body issues

WC: 2415

AN: Thank you so much for the request and the support, anon! It means so much to me and I'm SO sorry it's taken me so long to get this written. You've been in my thoughts a lot and I hope you're doing well! Actually was holding onto this one for a little while, too, because I didn't think the smut was very good, but I'll give myself a break because it's been a while since I've written anything spicy. Also, apologies for cutting it short; it was getting to be quite a long oneshot. I hope you like it!

---

“He wasn’t even looking at me, Arthur.”

“Nah, Y/N, you didn’t see him. I’ve seen enough bad men in my life to know he was up to no good,” Arthur disputed, aggressively hanging his overcoat on the rack.

You sighed, and closed the gap between the two of you; your hands went to the stubble of his cheek, and you sought his gaze with your own.

“Arthur,” you said, softer this time. “Just because I…” Your words hitched in your throat, your tongue bound from speaking of the assault as if admitting it would make it real. “… just because I’ve been hurt in the past doesn’t mean it’s going to happen again.”

Under your touch, he settled, if only slightly; it had been proven, time and time again, to tame the beast inside him. But his chest still heaved, and with a gentle finger you wiped a bead of sweat from his brow.

“Arthur,” you said again to ground him, as his gaze began to wander anywhere but your face. “I hate seeing you like this, picking fights everywhere you go.”

Sometimes you wondered if you had made him worse. Ever since you’d started dating the eldest Shelby brother, he’d found more and more excuses to punch or bludgeon whoever looked at you the wrong way. Though your touch may have soothed him, your existence only stoked the fire that burned bright in his damaged soul.

“What am I supposed to do, then, eh?” he said, exhaustion working its way past the thorns of his tone, and his forehead brushed yours, unruly locks of brown hair tickling your lashes.

You inhaled his scent – the sharp spice of his aftershave, the sweat of his ire, the musk that was so uniquely him that you couldn’t help but feel at home each time you breathed it. Your heart fluttered in your chest, and you cocked your head at him slightly as an idea formed in your head.

“Maybe some kind of…” You drew a finger from his jaw down the bare of his chest before it disappeared beneath his shirt, and you swallowed as your heart beat faster against your ribs. “… physical therapy?”

Winter-blue eyes clouded in lust, and his Adam’s apple bobbed along his throat. Despite seeing him for a while, the two of you hadn’t gone all the way yet, but it wasn’t that you didn’t want him, or didn’t trust him. You had always been afraid that, when he saw the scars on your flesh, he would discard you for another young woman who didn’t ruin her body.

Ruined, indeed, you thought, with a bitter jolt in your chest. Your eyes lowered from his winter blues so that he wouldn’t see the self-hatred in your eyes.

“Now, don’t tempt me with that, love.” His breath fanned the hair from the side of your face as his hand slid from your shoulder down to your hip. “That somethin’ you want?”

Repressing your anxiety and your sullenness, you drew closer to him, pressing yourself against the heat of his body as you tried to formulate a verbal response.

“Hm?” His fingers tipped your chin back up to look him in his eye.

You nodded, biting your lip as your hips connected and you felt him hard beneath his trousers.

“Yes,” you breathed.

“C’mere, then,” he growled playfully, his hands scooping your legs up. You wrapped your thighs around his waist for balance, and you chimed out a giggle as he carried you to his bedroom.

Though you knew he tried to be gentle, he practically threw you down on the bed, but you didn’t mind. A puff of air escaped your lungs and you sank into the mattress, your head spinning and heat pooling between your legs. Your pointed toe ran down his waist, not wanting to part from him even for the seconds it took for him to shed his shirt. You tried to prop yourself on your elbows to get a better look, biting your lip. A grin stretched apart his lips as he looked down at you, undoing his belt. And he said, with that gravel in his tone that you’d come to adore,

“Going somewhere, love?”

You shook your head, but you managed to sit up, your breaths cast across his navel as you looked up at him from bright, playful eyes. “Not without you.”

Your fingers ghosted over his, knuckles rough against the softness of your palms. They stilled, and you pried them from his belt, your index slipping between the hem of his trousers and the heat of his flesh, your heart skipping a beat when you felt the coarseness of his hair.

Arthur’s breath hitched in his chest as you rose, on your knees, to place kisses along the ridge of his collarbone, tasting his sweat on the tongue you dragged down his clavicle to the center of his chest. An animalistic groan rumbled beneath your lips as you cast his belt aside and tugged the buttons from his trousers.

“Seems I’m not the only eager one,” he rasped as his fingers wove through your hair, seeming to light a trail of fire from the nape of your neck to your scalp and sending a shudder through every nerve of your body. For a brief moment, you stiffened, the sensation of his fingers tightening around your hair familiar to you in a way that had once been most vile but, in this moment, you were most ashamed to find thrilling. You reminded yourself that he wasn’t pulling as hard, and that at any moment if you asked him to stop he would. You reminded yourself that this time it was Arthur. And it was okay for it to feel good.

Heat suffused your cheeks at his words, and you cast a small moan just above the hem of his trousers, having worked your way down in loving kisses. His hand loosed from your hair, and his other came around to tilt your chin back up to look at him, hair flopping in front of those lustful eyes and the light of the chandelier framing his head in a halo, like he was some kind of fallen angel.

“As I much as I want you to continue…” he said, voice coming out ragged. “… I want to see what we’re dealing with.” His fingers ran along the outline of your breasts beneath your shirt, another shiver passing through you as his thumb brushed a pert nipple.

“I want to see you, love,” he said, thumb dragging down to the lip of your breast, your heart rate increasing the further he explored. You wanted to sit still, and be a good girl for him, but the pounding in your ears and the clamminess of your palms just wouldn’t subside.

You shuddered this time out of fear, that jolted through your veins, intense and cold and criminally contrast to the heat that inundated every other fibre of your being. But you hid it well. How could he had known he’d just traced over a scar you’d never shown him?

Your stomach twisted as you wondered what he would think when he saw them… all of them. And while you wanted nothing more than to be laid bare before the man who owned your heart and your soul and who deserved your body, and you wanted to give him it, you also couldn’t help but wonder, what if he thought you were ugly? What if he thought you were ruined?

And in that moment you scorned yourself for ever laying a blade to your thighs, or your stomach. You hated yourself for ruining something you could never have back, something that would’ve been beautiful had you not squandered it, time and time again.

“Arthur.” Your lip trembled, and your hands were shaking as they left the hem of his trousers. You panted out your breaths, your head even lighter than it had been before. And on your lips you could taste the words you yearned to say, to tell him why you ached so badly to do this but feared so cruelly unveiling a gruesome body that he did not deserve.

But all that came out was, “I’m scared.”

Something in his eyes softened at that, and any trace of his grin vanished as his weight sank into the mattress beside you. His hands were on you, but not in a frightening way; one ran across your trembling back and the other rested reassuringly on your thigh. You felt yourself leaning into his touch, as if it would vanquish any trace of fear or doubt that made your body tremble with such pitifulness. As if it would cleanse your impurities and make you whole again.

Arthur’s words seemed to catch on his tongue, and a flicker of his own uncertainty darted through those winter blues. “You’re not… scared of me, are you?”

“No, Arthur.” You cupped his cheek in your hand now, forcing his gaze to yours, even if yours was brimming with unshed tears. “I want you. And I trust you. I just…”

I’m ruined.

The words froze before they could even reach the back of your tongue, instead strangling your throat, your eyes bugging wide as you swallowed against them. All the while, Arthur’s gaze dragged solicitously across your face, and this time, he was the one to press his forehead to yours, his fingers tangling gently in your hair and rubbing soothingly along your back.

“Y/N,” he said, his heavy breath tangling with your short, frenzied ones. “So long as you ain’t scared of me, you don’t have to be scared of anything. I’m going to take care of you.” His lips dragged to your neck, placing a gentle yet firm kiss along your clavicle. “You don’t have to worry about a thing, love. Just let me take care of you.”

A soft moan stirred from your lips as you felt the heat of his lips on your neck, and your heart pounded in your core. Physically, you had never felt so conflicted, but his words, they were all you needed to hear. You trusted him, and that was what was important. Whether or not you deserved to be taken care of, that was a whole other demon, but Arthur Shelby had a way of making you want to submit to his every whim, to let him do with you as he pleased. This was how you would take care of him.

“Is that a ‘yes’?” he said.

You licked your lips, and said, “Yes.”

“Good girl.”

His hands lowered you to the bed, his stronger, sinewy frame looming over you and making your heart pound wilder in your chest. You licked your lips again, mouth dry, and swallowed back your fear as you felt his fingers begin to undo your blouse, revealing more of you until you were certain he could see what you had so desperately tried to hide. But his kisses were trailing between your breasts, and you helped shrug the garment off as he was absorbed in his work. Had your heart not been beating so fast and had your stomach not been turning so much in fear of what he would soon discover, you would’ve enjoyed the attention a lot more.

And there it was. He hesitated, the bristle of his moustache lifting from your skin and a hot breath exhaling across the scar, still fresh, still burning from the other night.

Your heart practically stopped.

“Y/N…” he breathed, the stubble of his chin brushing your skin to indicate that those blue eyes were on you. You peered back at him reluctantly, expecting horror in those eyes.

And they were filled with adoration.

“Is this what you were scared about, love?” he murmured against your stomach.

“Yes.” Your breath came shattered from your chest, still not quite able to believe your eyes.

For a moment longer, he held your gaze, with a pity you weren’t sure you wanted, but a love that eased your frenzied heart. And then, saying nothing, his lips brushed the scar ever-so-gently, as if to pay it reverence, and though the wound stung, you didn’t care in the slightest.

He still wanted you.

Once he had spent time on the first scar, he let his lips trail all across your stomach, with a surprising tenderness, his fingers gripping your hips tightly but in such a way that felt as if you were safe within his touch. He laid kisses across older scars, that had been slashed across your stomach, and as his lips grazed the lowest, you rocked your hips against the bulge in his trousers, drawing a moan from him and casting it hot against your belly.

“Don’t stop,” you murmured. “Please don’t stop.”

“Y/N, you’re fucking perfect. Have I ever told you that?”

“No,” you laughed, a tear pricking your eye but your anxiety and your tension all dissipating in wake of the sensations that the heat of his lips and the firmness of his hands and the tickle of his moustache sent racing along your skin.

“Well, you’re fucking perfect,” he said, as he pulled your skirt from your waist, and you helped kick it off, your legs instinctively crossing over to shield the scars along your thighs.

He seemed to notice this, and cast you a reassuring look before prying your knees open with strong fingers, and saying, “I’m going to have my way with every bit of you, love. Gonna kiss you everywhere because you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever had in my bed.”

Your head rolled back into the sheets as he began kissing and running his hands along your inner thighs. Chapped only slightly, his lips were hot as hellfire but soft as heaven as they explored each scar in a way you never had. In a way that was loving rather than shameful.

“Arthur,” you moaned, bucking your hips impatiently as his lips fell in the crook of your thigh.

“What’s the matter, love?” he asked, coming up between your legs and cupping your cheek in his hand.

A streak of a playful grin pulled at your lips, and you whispered, “Fuck me.”

That devilish grin that you knew so well plastered itself across a handsome face, and as you felt him shift his trousers down, he murmured into your ear,

“Told you wouldn’t have to worry, love. Because if that wasn’t the plan for even a goddamn second…”

---

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gffa · 1 year

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Hi! I'm not sure how much help I'm going to be because my view of the sequel trilogy lives in kind of a nebulous space, where I really like the characters and I actually like a lot of the potential of the storyline, but I dislike TFA, greatly dislike TLJ, and was actually pretty okay with TROS all things considered. I don't want to dig too deep into the negativity of my feelings but they're basically - TFA was too much of a repainting of ANH for me, the initial shine of it was through its potential, but when that didn't pay off in the other movies, the shine came off TFA, too. - TLJ was set too close to TFA, Finn's character should have been tied into the Canto Bight plot (which was exhausting as it was), as a stolen child soldier he has the most reason to hate the rich, but absolutely nothing was done with him, Luke being on that island for that long was out of character for him, Rey's entire story became wrapped up in Kylo Ren, neither of those characters had nearly enough connections with others despite having very good reasons to, like why do we not spend more time on Luke & Kylo?? and it played at being subversive but it absolutely was not, it's all been done before (and I really hated the way Force abilities worked in the movie) and killing off your main villain in the second act was a baffling decision - TROS' biggest problem is that it should have been two movies instead of one, it was a series of trailers rather than a story with breathing room, and it suffered the most from the lack of planning + the main villain being killed off in the second movie But here's why I still like The Rise of Skywalker the best: The bones of what's there are a pretty good Star Wars story! Yes, Rey Palpatine came out of nowhere and was very silly, but if you can't handle silly, I don't know how you can make it as a Star Wars fan, it's such a silly franchise! I'm not afraid to love a scene I laugh out loud at--and, yeah, I laughed RIGHT OUT LOUD the first time Kylo dramatically said, "You're a Palpatine." I laughed so hard I had tears in my eyes and let me tell you, I fucking LOVE that scene now. Or how the last words of any Skywalker, the last word Ben Solo/Kylo Ren ever says in the movies' franchise is, "Ow." I am laughing RIGHT NOW, please, p l e a s e, that is so on-brand, I can't handle it, it's too funny. But I also like the basic storyline because Rey's story in TROS is her struggling with her own inner darkness, that she feels there's something dark in her soul because she's Palpatine's granddaughter. The movie isn't saying that's true, but that Rey struggles with thinking it's true, and she has to wrestle with her dark side, just like every Jedi before her has as they're coming into their power. Anakin wrestled with his dark side and lost in Attack of the Clones and even worse in Revenge of the Sith. Luke wrestled with his dark side in the vision he sees of himself in Vader's helmet in the cave in ESB and in the climactic scene of ROTJ, where he nearly hacks his father's arm off in rage after his sister and friends are threatened. He has to claw his way back out of that. Ezra Bridger struggles with the dark side in Rebels as he comes into his power and he has to claw his way out of it as well. Rey has to struggle with her own lure towards the dark side as she comes into her power--she rips a ship apart in the sky because she was so determined that Chewie was hers, she was so angry at Kylo that Force lightning burst out of her. She's seeing Sith visions of herself on the wreckage of the Death Star. This is a theme that has been there since the very beginning, that Jedi have to struggle through a temptation to the dark, and her relation to Palpatine preys on that. That's kind of why I wound up loving Ben's scene with Han as well, because that was an entirely imagined scene, but it represents that the way the Force works, you have to dig yourself out of the hole you're in, that Ben using the memory of his father, the last moments of connection he had with his mother, to pull himself out of the dark, really worked for me. And I'm okay with his death, because this is Star Wars, people die before they should all the time. I even liked the political message of the final movie, yes, Rey vs Palpatine was the big Jedi vs Sith showdown, but the main galactic battle? Had people showing up. Just... people. One of the themes I've talked a lot about, especially because The Clone Wars kind of has it as a running theme is that the average galactic citizen doesn't do jack shit about the state of the galaxy they live in. The Rebellion had people starting to stand up, but it was an organized effort, it recruited people. TROS had just people showing up, that Leia and the Resistance had been trying to rally the cause, but ultimately it was the galactic public finally, finally saying, "We have to stand up and fight for ourselves, not depend on other people to do it." Was it ham-fisted and not nearly as polished as it should have been? Oh, no doubt. But the message. Just people showing up to fight against the First Order that was trying to bring back the Empire. That meant a lot to me. And I loved Luke's character here, that he admitted when he was wrong, and gave us that banger line that's spot on: "Confronting fear is the destiny of a Jedi." Yes. Yes. FUCKING YES. LUKE SKYWALKER AND JEDI PHILOSOPHY. MY HEART. Nailed it. Does this movie hang together as well as it should? Absolutely not. It needed a stronger writer, it needed more time than it got, and it needed better build-up. But the bones of what was there were actually pretty good and, man, any movie that has Daisy Ridley in that white outfit with the hood where she looked practically ethereal cannot be all bad, in my opinion.

#rey #the rise of skywalker #meta

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kitty-thinks-stuff · 21 days

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uhh little vent ig bc i feel like crap :P ‼️tw-emetophobia, mental health talk, homophobia, hatecrimes‼️

im going through a bad mental health low right now and it fucking suckkks. sometimes i forget that i have kinda shitty mental health until i go through a bad episode and this rn is a bad episode

im tired *all* the time, mentally and physically. i cant find joy in my usual interests, like genshin and hsr, which sucks bc i usually go to them for comfort?

when i play them i feel bored, or almost annoyed? like its just extra work. its fucking awful tbh, going to something you're usually excited for and just feeling. terrible

i also feel nauseous whenever im anxious, and usually im pretty used to it but its happened a lot today and i fucking hate it. and i feel anxious about EVERYTHING, bc im not. normal dude. being neurodivergent in the real world is fucking hard.

i have to mask all the time, i can only act the way that i do on the internet, or with my closeclose friends. basically all the people at my work are straight cis neurotypical people and its worse than i thought it would be. dont get me wrong, theyre great! but its so hard having to be a completely different person.

this guy asked me for my number today, this very cute, very funny guy. and i gave it to him! it was nice, i was flattered. but i know its never gonna go anywhere. im never gonna have this relationship, bc i dont feel love and attraction like a normal fucking person, and i dont feel comfortable around straight cis neurotypical people.

he didnt do anything wrong. none of them did. but i cant be myself around them, any of them, and its just exhausting.

i want to have relationships, i want to have a partner, i want to have friends. but its hard to make friends when you're constantly worried about getting fucking hatecrimed.

im always worried about getting called weird. i only feel safe on the internet, on my tumblr, where i can be myself and not feel like im gonna fucking vomit everytime i talk to someone.

i get so anxious talking to new people. and i hate it. i cant just. be like everyone else. i see all these nt people making tons of friends, and i just cant

ever since i started my job its been slammed into my face that im weird. ive been inside for so long (homeschool since about a year ago) that i forgot that not everyone is like my circle on the internet.

im not just "funny and silly" outside. im just weird. and its such a scary wake up call that i actually do have to be worried about who i talk to. what i do. what i say.

because what will happen if i slip up and mention being neurodivergent? being queer? not being cis?

im sure ill get used to it someday. i know it wont be bad forever. but fucking hell dude. im glad to get out of the house and to be making money but shit. its so hard being the weird kid again. its so much like highschool its awful.

anyways. im sure ill be fine. its been kinda icky for a while but today it really hit.

i love u guys :) ur really super fucking awesome, thank you for letting me be myself.

#kitty thinks #mental health #neurodivergent #audhd #adhd #autism

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kaysfanficcorner · 1 year

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Out of This World Chapter 5:

Rest and Rejuvenation

Author’s Note: Hey everyone! I’m pumped to share this one with you all so without further ado, let’s get this going! I did a lot of research into Mandalorian culture for this chapter, so anything that doesn’t fit into cannon lore is from my brain.

Summary: Din, the child, and the Earthling take some time to rest on Nevarro after the events on Smuggler’s Moon.

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Earthling Reader

Warnings: cursing, light angst, FLUFF, explicit sexual themes. This work of fiction is strictly 18+.

AO3

*****

Din Djarin feels like its up to him to hold things together for the next couple of days around the Razor Crest. In the aftermath of Nar Shaddaa, your moods have become somewhat erratic and he’s never quite sure what he's going to get next from you. It’s got him on edge, having been used to the general mood and routine being fairly regular with you up until his point. Now the sense of comfort he once felt is gone, and he hopes to Maker that this is merely a temporary occurrence.

As selfish as it is, he just wants you back. You don’t feel like you’ve been entirely present, and its not that he’s holding it against you but rather that he doesn’t want you to have to go through this at all. It’s killing him that he can’t take back his actions, that he can’t change the fact that you’re hurting inside and there isn’t anything he can do to make it stop. Din feels helpless. The only thing he has the power to do is continue to be your friend and hope for the best while wrestling with his own confusing feelings.

If one were to squint very very hard, the trio on board the Razor Crest could pass for a small family. Self destructive as the thought continues to be, Din just wants that feeling to return to him. He wants it more than he’s wanted anything in recent memory, but he also genuinely fears it. He fears losing it. He fears becoming cold again. To be alone again. Numb to the world around him again.

Din’s fear of losing what could possibly be a very good thing in his life is why he was ready to drop you off on Nevarro and attempt to forget about you all together. In his mind perhaps ripping the ties now and feeling the pain of it would be easier than becoming more attached, just to have the pain be that much worse at a later juncture.

On top of this frustrating inner turmoil, Din is also dealing with the lingering after effects of having had his mind taken over by Ranik.

Din’s hackles are at a constant state of raised, and it’s exhausting to be on so guard. It reminds him of how it felt to be alone with the kid, before you boarded his ship and unwittingly altered his perception of the world. He’s barely been able to sleep, but when he does sleep his dreams are incredibly vivid, more vivid than anything he’s experienced before. So vivid that when he wakes from them, it feels like he hasn’t been asleep at all. Rest will not find him, and he hates it. He hasn’t been able to relax once since it happened.

“Are you okay, Din?” You had asked him after the second day post-incident.

“My head is still having trouble,” He had admitted to you.

“So your brain is all wonky?” You had replied, and even though the word is completely foreign to him he can’t help but feel like its the perfect description of what he’s going through.

Din Djarin feels wonky.

Which is why, even in your own state of unease, you’d forced him to sleep in the cot. To get comfortable and try his best to relax in spite of the fact that relaxing seems utterly impossible right now.

So when Din hears a sound that rips him from one of the more terrifying of his vivid dreams, he’s instantly on high alert. Without thinking twice, he’s out of the cot with a blaster in his hand in less than ten seconds. For some reason he can’t shake the feeling that Ranik is still alive and somehow no longer frozen in the carbonite below decks. That the ones he cares for are in danger again. He sees a figure standing in the darkness of the ship, and raises the blaster.

“Move, and you’ll die a second time,” his voice is hoarse and gravely from sleep, but he gets the point across.

The figure raises their hands in a surrender motion, their back to the Mandalorian.

Then he hears your voice, “Din! It’s me!”

Din’s system is flooded with so much all at once. Relief that you are okay, anger at himself for scaring you, and something else that overcomes him entirely.

The blaster drops from his hand with a loud clink on the floor, and in three great strides he’s crossing the room. Din’s arms wrap around you from behind as he shoves you up against the ship’s wall, still facing away from him. His heart is pounding in his chest. He has no idea where this is coming from but it’s happening regardless.

“Din, what are you-” you try to squirm and spin around to face him but his grip is firm and his hard body has you pressed so tightly to the wall that you can’t budge.

“Don’t turn around,” Din growls in your ear.

And then his lips are on your neck, kissing up and down the crook of soft flesh. A breathy gasp escapes your lips followed by a soft moan, which urges him on. Din’s movements are feverish, the need to touch your body taking over. The need he’s been actively trying to suppress for nearly eighty straight days.

How could he have been so reckless? Leaving the cot without his helmet? Without his armor? You could have turned around and his entire way of life could have been ripped away from him in a single second. But you didn’t, so he doesn’t care that he’d been reckless. All he cares about is touching you.

“Oh, fuck,” you breathe, pushing your body back up against him as his teeth dig into you, dragging across the perfect terrain of skin. You look down and see that his arms are completely bare, that his torso pressing into you is equally naked. “Din,” your voice is so full of lust. His name sounds even more exquisite on your lips when you’re like this. It drives him mad.

“My girl, ner cyar’ika, ner cyare,” his voice doesn’t even sound like him anymore. It’s more carnal and raw than he’s ever heard himself. Feeling your body quiver against him makes him feel like a different man.

Din rips the shirt from your body, hearing fabric tear but not giving a single shit about it. Shirts are replaceable. His hands move up and down your torso, moving up to cup your breasts as the damp, naked flesh of your back presses into his warm chest. His body is on fire, feeling as if he’s been struck by a proton torpedo. So much of your skin is against him, his own tingling at the sensation. So much touching. More touching than he’s done in over ten years, the flame of desire within him burning brighter than any star in the galaxy.

And then he curses in Mando’a and pulls back. Leaning his sweaty forehead onto your bare shoulder, Din takes a few deep breaths and attempts to calm himself down. What came over him? This has already gone way too far.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-”

“You shouldn’t have stopped,” you say, one hand blindly reaching up behind you to slide your fingers into his hair and pull his head back to your neck. “Please, Din,” you plead, voice dripping with need.

He whispers in your ear, voice lusty, “Please what, cyare?”

“Please, I know we can’t but I-I want to kiss you.”

For a moment a wild thought crosses Din’s mind. To hell with the rules. But clarity takes hold of him when he thinks of his creed, of his vow. The words that have driven his entire adult life. He knows damn well that you would be unhappy with him if he made himself an apostate just for a single kiss.

Then Din spots an old cloak is hanging up on the wall just a few feet away, and he’s moving before his brain can even process his actions. He takes the thing down and rips off a strip of it, noticing that the sound makes you jump. To your credit, you never turn around.

Delicately folding the fabric in half to make sure it’s thick enough, he comes to stand behind you again and slowly lowers it in front of your face. You seem to hesitate for a moment, before nodding your head.

“Do it.”

Din gently covers your eyes with the makeshift blindfold and ties it behind your head. Tight enough to stay on but not enough to cause you discomfort. He guides you with his hands on your shoulders, turning you to face forward.

His lips crash down upon yours, a frenzy of hands grabbing and pulling and scratching. Your hands are in his hair again, pulling almost painfully. His are on your back, nails digging into the delicate skin.

You’re finally his, it’s not just some fantasy anymore.

… And then he wakes with start, heart pounding and cock pressing uncomfortably into his pants. He’s drenched in sweat.

You’re shaking his shoulder and your voice is filtering into his beskar covered ears, “Din? Din, wake up. You told me to wake you when we reached Nevarro and we’re here. I don’t know how to land the ship yet, otherwise I would have just tired to do it myself and let you sleep.”

Din’s never been more disappointed to wake up in his entire life.

*****

Being back on Nevarro after the incident on Nar Shaddaa carries with it an oddly pleasant sensation. The familiarity you have with this planet, your first home after getting transported to a galaxy far, far away from your own, lends itself to the tiny sense of comfort you feel. Walking through it’s streets is something you know well enough despite the fact that the planet seems to be a little different every time you come back. It’s not a random city on a random planet where you know nothing about it’s people or culture. You’d spent a good month learning what life is like on Nevarro prior to joining the Mandalorian and his foundling out in the depths of space.

Even after shit hitting the fan on Smuggler’s Moon, you still feel incredibly reluctant in regards to going back to Earth anytime soon. It feels like an impossible feat, something that could hypothetically waste years of your life to achieve. What if you go back and realize that so much time had gone by, and the life you had been actually living was in this galaxy after all. Who knows what will have changed back on Earth by then. The familiarity you miss could be no where to be found for all you know.

So, the familiarity of Nevarro is enough for you right now.

The queasy unease that fills your stomach hasn’t subsided since you killed the Anzat, even after days have passed. When you close your eyes the upsetting scene plays out before you, and so you’ve tried to keep your mind busy for the duration of the trip back to avoid thinking about it. Din and the new level of closeness you feel towards him has been a nice distraction, but he cannot pay attention to you at all times. The kid serves as a distraction as well, but just like his father he cannot give you his attention constantly.

The distraction you’ve been focusing on most, you haven’t been able to get over the fact that Mando shared his true name with you. It’s been a struggle not to say it every single time you speak to him, and now that you’re on the planet’s surface you have to remind yourself not to use the name at all. His beautiful, stupidly perfect name.

Din Djarin. It’s as if the image of him that you have in your head is now complete, thinking of him as more of his own person rather than just the Mandalorian. Even without a face to put to the name, it changes everything. Your knowledge of him is growing more intimate by the day, and you only crave to know more. You crave him. So much so that acting like you are not craving him is becoming problematic.

Even now as you walk beside him and the floating pram, you itch to reach out and take hold of his gloved hand. It’s one thing to touch each other freely in the privacy of the Razor Crest. It’s entirely another to do so in a very public place where his reputation proceeds him. When the citizens of Nevarro see the Mandalorian coming, the trepidation in the air is tangible. It’s important to you that you do not alter this perception of your cosmic companion to others. You don’t want them to see the man you know privately, who laughs at your stupid jokes and lets his guard down when you’re flying through space together. You want that version of him to be for you. For Din to be yours, and for Mando to be everyone else’s.

The fact that his presence causes such a strong reaction from the public doesn’t help your ongoing problem, though. It’s frankly a turn on. You haven’t seen him fight very much, as he usually has the bounties subdued by the time you get a chance to see them. But damn would you like to see just what about him is so intimidating to these people. You want to see the warrior side of him.

Suddenly his voice is breaking through to your wandering mind, saying your name, “Did you hear anything I just said?”

Shaking your head, you realize that you’ve already made it to the inn. “No, sorry. My head’s in a million places right now.”

Mando nods, showing you with his body language that he understands. You’ve been scatter brained like this for days, and he’s been very understanding through all of it. “I said that I’m going to leave you and the kid here while I go get the payout from Karga. I’ll be back as soon as possible.”

“Sounds like a plan,” you reply with a lack of enthusiasm, feeling incredibly anxious about being separated from your cosmic companion for too long. Last time he’d left you alone things didn’t go so well.

You know he must see the emotion on your face, because he asks, “What’s wrong?”

“This just sucks, Mando. I don’t want to feel nervous like this. I didn’t have this problem before, you know, I murdered someone. It makes me feel weak.”

He shakes his helmeted head at you, “You are not weak. It will pass. Once you spend a few days resting hopefully the worst of it will be behind you.”

“I hope you’re right,” you agree with a sigh.

*****

After receiving his payout from Karga and filling him in on why the Anzat is dead with as little detail as possible, Din heads out into the streets of Nevarro with no real destination in mind. He knows he’s not ready to go back to the inn yet. He’s not ready to be near you. After the dream from the night before, the idea of being around you in close proximity is actively stressing him out. He’s not sure how much longer he can keep his desire at bay, and a tiny part of him isn’t sure he even wants to.

Tired feet carry him through the small city, until suddenly he’s standing at one of the entrances to the abandoned Mandalorian covert he once found solace in. Despite the fact that this place now carries with it memories of destruction and bloodshed, Din finds himself entering the underground caverns without much forethought.

He wanders through the haunted place, feeling an ache for his fellow Mandalorians who’d fallen in battle when Moff Gideon had massacred most of Din’s people. He will never forget that they had given their lives to help him save the child, and for that he will always be grateful.

But now, with the darkness and desolation before him, Din’s own personal conflicts are at the forefront of his mind. His religion still means so much to him, but the two people in his life he cares for the most are not a part of that religion. They mean a lot to him too, and it feels as if two halves of him are at war with one another.

Din continues walking, trying to ignore the coldness he feels in a place that was once full of life. He misses seeing the young Mandalorians playing their games, the slightly older ones training. He misses hearing the crackling of roaring fires and smelling the familiar scent of meat being roasted. Now the fire pits are long extinguished and the remnants of the Tribe have moved on to a new covert. One he has yet to visit.

Then a loud clanking noise startles him, a faint light up ahead catching his eye. It’s emitting from the Armorer’s old workshop. Pulling his blaster from it’s holster, he holds it up and begins carefully and silently approaching the sound. Perhaps a squatter has uncovered the cavern and made themselves at home, perhaps its something more dangerous than that. Either way, he plans to uncover the mystery of it well prepared.

As he makes his way to entranceway, he stops at the edge of the wall with his body braced against it. Just as he’s about to make his presence known, a spear flys past his head and lodges itself into the adjacent wall.

“Step further and that step will be your last, outsider,” a voice that Din knows all too well speaks from inside the room.

“It is Din Djarin,” he says, projecting loud enough for the owner of the voice to hear.

“Din Djarin? You may enter.”

Din moves to pull the beat up old spear out of the wall and bring it forward into the dimly lit room. The Armorer herself is standing there waiting for him to hand it to her, dim light glinting off of her golden helmet a welcomed sight of familiarity that Din had not realized he needed until now.

“I thought that you had salvaged everything there was to save,” Din says, handing the weapon over. She replaces it beside her, propped up on a stone, turning to face him and give him a once over.

“I thought you were returning the foundling to his own kind. Have you succeeded in this task?” She inquires, motioning for him to come further into the room.

“I am still attempting to find his people, these Jedi you spoke of. Every planet I have visited has had no leads,” Din explains, “I have returned to Nevarro for a brief period of necessary rest and rejuvenation.”

She nods once, seeming pleased with this answer. “I returned to remove any trace of our existence here. This is The Way.”

Din inclines his head in response, “This is The Way.”

The armorer moves to take a seat and motions for him to join her. “You seem troubled, Din Djarin. What ails you?”

Shocked by her observation of him being so accurate and not sure how to answer, Din takes a seat and spends a moment considering his response. “There is another with us on my ship now. A woman. She has been assisting me with the foundling.”

Her horned helmet tilts to the side in what Din knows to be a questioning glance. “And this is bothersome to you?”

Din struggles to find the right words, eventually settling on, “She has become… important to me.”

“Ah, I see,” The Armorer nods but does not say more. She’s clearly waiting for Din to explain further.

“She is not of this galaxy. Her home world is a strange planet very far away, and she came to be here by some twist of fate. She is lost, and she does not walk The Way.”

“Does she wish to?”

Din shakes his head, “She has not expressed as much, but she is respectful of our way of life. I believe her heart to be similar to that of our kind. Her loyalty was proven when saved the lives of myself and the foundling from an Anzat who wanted to harm the child. She killed him in battle.”

The Armorer considers this for a moment, “If she is brave and strong enough to take on a foe such as an Anzat, this woman could become a warrior yet. Are you considering preforming the ritual of riduurok?”

He nearly chokes at the suggestion. Marriage? Maker, Din hasn’t thought that far ahead. He’s just trying to figure out how he feels and what he wants, let alone that. “No, not at the moment.”

The Armorer ignores his sputtering response, “By creed, you are not required to take a Mandalorian as a riduur. A spouse can learn the ways of our people and become Mandalorian if they so choose. The bond is all that is necessary.”

Din thinks her words over, a new sense of confusion confronting him in regards to the feelings he carries for you. But with that also comes a small sense of relief. It’s almost as if he doesn’t have to feel as guilty as he thought he did, that caring for you does not have to be a crime against his people. He was already well aware of the customs of his people, but hearing it said out loud by a Mandalorian he respects a great deal is meaningful in this particular moment.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, “This is The Way.”

The Armorer stands, holding a hand out to him. When Din also stands and takes her forearm, she takes hold of his in a warrior’s handshake. “This is The Way. When you need to find solace in your people again you may come and find us, Din Djarin.”

And with that she turns, going back to the task at hand. Din nods once, turning on his heels to exit the caverns. The entire walk back is almost relaxing to him, feeling less fraught after the unexpected conversation with the trusted Tribe elder. This is not the first time that a conversation with her has been perception altering for Din, most notably when he’d spoken to her and decided to go back for the child. He can’t help but feel that her wisdom in this current situation is just as significant, or at the very least he hopes it its.

Not long after leaving the caverns, Din finds himself back at the inn. He gives the robotic attendant his room number and the name he’d put the reservation under, and the droid at the front desk allows him entry. He makes his way up to the top floor, finding the room right away. He can very faintly hear some sort of noise that doesn’t sound like you or the child on the other side of the door, and he assumes that you’re playing something on the personal device you love so much.

The bounty hunter listens for a moment, and when your laughter filters through his helmet’s inner speakers, a soft smile spreads across his face. Din knocks on the locked door of the rented room, “It’s me.”

Din hears the faint noise on the other side of the door subside, then the sound of someone making their way across the room before the door unlocks with a click and a swoosh as it slides open.

“Hey Chrome Dome,” you greet him with the nickname he secretly enjoys, smiling with tired eyes before turning your attention to the child perched on your hip, “See? Your dad’s back, kiddo.”

The kid babbles and coos, waving his outstretched arms towards the Mandalorian. Din’s smile beneath the beskar grows even fonder.

Instead of handing the child over to Din, though, you take a few steps back to allow the Mandalorian entry. “Let him get settled, Green Bean. He’ll pay attention to you soon.”

Din moves into the room, letting the door swish shut behind him before re-locking it. When the rest of the world is again closed off from him and the ones he cares for, Din let’s out a small sigh of relief and his tense shoulders ease up a little.

“You okay?” You ask, looking over him with concern as you bounce the kid, “You were gone longer than I expected you to be.“

“Exhausted,” Din replies, “I feel as if I haven’t slept in days. And I went to see an old friend. An unexpected detour, but it turned out to be a useful encounter.”

Seeming to be alright with this response you nod, “Well I’m glad it was useful. The kid got bored so I put on a movie from my iPad. Let it be known that our little dude’s got great taste.”

Din watches as you get situated on the orange-dressed bed, placing the kid down in the center up against a red pillow as you get comfortable to the right of him. The room itself is small and plain, but well decorated. The stone walls are an uninteresting tan, the simple attached fresher being of the same color. A single window is adorned with a fabric curtain the same shade of orange as the bed, red accents embroidered into it. There are three pillows lined up together at the head of the bed, the third being to the left of the kid with an empty spot that is clearly meant for the Mandalorian.

“Come relax,” you offer, “the whole point of renting the room was to rest, right? Rest, Din.”

“I’ll get comfortable over here on the floor,” he says, starting to remove his rifle and jet pack followed by the tattered cloak, placing them on the small decorative desk made of carved volcanic rock over in one corner. Your backpack is nestled in the matching chair of the same material, along with the few belongings you brought with you from the ship. Jupiter was left on board, as the inn has a strict pet policy. You’d argued that the cat was not simply a pet, but Din eventually got you to agree.

You roll your eyes at him, “You can’t be serious.”

“You two will be more comfortable this way,” Din counters.

“This bed is huge. It’s more than big enough for the three of us. And it’s a real bed. When’s the last time you slept in a real bed? You deserve to sleep in this thing just as much as we do.” Patting the mattress with one hand, you motion for him to come join you. “Please?”

Din doesn’t want to admit that you’re right. This bed looks more comfortable than anything he’s slept on in recent memory, and his body is aching for real sleep.

But after dreaming that he was insane enough to risk going against his creed because his desire for you has gotten way too out of control, he’s terrified to be this close to you. Even after speaking with the Armorer, Din doesn’t entirely trust himself anymore. Not where you are concerned.

“Please?” Pleading eyes look up to meet his beneath the beskar, and he’s suddenly unable to refuse. He really can’t trust himself around you anymore, the hold you have on him is far too strong. It doesn’t help that the kid seems to also be pleading up at him with his dark eyes. Din’s powerless against the both of you looking at him like that.

“Fine,” Din begrudgingly agrees with a sigh, stripping himself of his remaining weapons and all the beskar aside from that perched on his head while simultaneously kicking off his boots. Taking his gloves off, he places them down with the rest of his belongings before turning back to glance at you both.

The kid looks so happy when Din comes to the bed and climbs on, situating himself right next to his foster son. Once Din is in a comfortable reclined position, one arm draped around the child, the little guy crawls closer and snuggles himself into Din’s side with a small noise of contentment. Then to each adult’s surprise, the kid looks back over to you with huge eyes and reaches a little arm towards you.

Chuckling, you reach over and let him grab your index and middle fingers with his small hand, running your thumb over his clawed fingers. “Do you want me or him, Green Bean?”

“He wants both of us,” Din whispers, eyes flicking to yours beneath the beskar. Such a realization fills him with so much love for the two of you that he doesn’t even realize that’s what he’s experiencing, and won’t realize it until much later. Right now he just knows that he feels completely full inside and part of him never wants to leave this bed again. The feeling he’s been missing since Nar Shaddaa has returned to him, stronger than it ever was before.

You look as if you want to cry for a moment, but after it passes a smile so sweet it could make someone’s teeth ache crosses your features. Scooting your body so that you’re laying on your side, you curl yourself around the child as he continues to hold your fingers and snuggle into Din. Your other arm rests behind the kid, Din’s bare fingers finding your skin there and latching on.

The three of you lay like that for a long while, holding onto each other like a makeshift little family.

Once an unknown amount of time passes, the kid wiggles out of the hold of his humans and crawls over to the forgotten iPad laying at the foot of the bed. He looks directly at you and points at it.

Din chuckles, “I think he wants to finish the-, how do you say it?” He’s had you explain to him what these visual fiction tales meant to you on your home world, but the concept is still entirely alien.

“Movie,” you say with a laugh. “Alright, Green Bean, we can put it back on but I can’t promise us adults will be able to stay awake for it.”

The kid claps his hands together a bit, pleased. He craws back over to Din and re-adjusts himself in a comfortable position, watching you expectantly.

You set the device up, propped up so that all three of you can see the small screen. Turning it on, you press a triangle shape at the center of the screen and images begin moving as sound emits from the tiny speakers. You find your way back to the head of the bed, sitting up more as you snuggle next to the kid.

A pair of terrified human children, a younger male and an older female, are pinned under something in the rain and mud as a gigantic creature with a huge mouth full of razor sharp teeth tries its best to tear the thing they are under apart. It clearly wants to devour the screaming children.

Din looks at you with a horrified expression under the beskar, “Are you sure he should be watching this?”

An expression of amusement crosses your features, “This classic right here was my all time favorite movie when I was little. I used to watch it all the time and I turned out fine. Besides, it kinda has a happy ending. Remind me to explain dinosaurs to you at a later juncture.”

*****

After having the best night of sleep you’ve had in literal weeks, your eyes are barely willing to pry open upon waking. Limbs stretching out, you then cocoon the large comforter around your body and curl up on the side of the bed where Din and the kid had been when you fell asleep. His side of the mattress is decidedly empty, much to your disappointment. Realizing that he and the kid are not beside you anymore is slightly distressing, so your eyes fly open. Sitting up to look around the room, you find that the child is no where to be found either and it feels as if your world is crashing down for a fraction of a moment.

Then you hear the water running in the fresher attached to the room, and the breath hitches in your throat before you sigh with temporary relief. Din is either taking a shower or bathing the child, and if it’s not the latter of the two that means you’re not sure where the kid is and worry still runs through you.

Hating to leave the warmth of the blanket, you force yourself throw it off of you regardless and climb from the bed to trod on bare feet across the cool floor. A shiver runs through you. Tentatively, you knock on the fresher door. You want to call out his name, but without concrete information as to his whereabouts you instead call out the first name you ever knew him by.

“Mando?”

“Just a minute,” you hear Din’s voice on the other side. He sounds as if he’s worried that you’ll barge in, and so you assume he must be helmet-less.

“Where’s the green bean?” You call through the barrier, noticing that his armor is still piled up from the night before.

“He’s safe. I’ll be out shortly.”

With the knowledge that your nanny child is safe, wherever he may be, you climb back into the bed, still warm to the touch from your leftover body heat. As much as the Razor Crest feels like home to you, this bed is the most wonderful thing you’ve slept on since landing ass first in this galaxy through the black hole. Cara’s couch and Din’s cot are both lacking entirely in comfort. Leaving the luxurious thing behind when it comes time to re-board Space RV is going to be torturous.

Just as you’re starting to doze off again, the fresher door swishes open and your cosmic companion emerges in a cloud of steam. Seeing him this way is so surreal to you. You’re so used to him covered head to toe in beskar and thick clothing, but now the only beskar on his body is the helmet upon his head. On his torso he’s wearing a black undershirt with the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, and on his legs he’s wearing the plain dark brown pants he usually has on with the rest of his accoutrements. His forearms, hands, and feet are all bare, and when you stop to really look down at parts of his body you’ve never seen before, a little giggle bubbles up your throat.

“What?” He asks, watching you with interest.

“You look so casual,” you mumble in a sleepy voice, laughing a little more. “I never get to see you like this. It’s nice.”

“Mm,” he hums, coming to sit on the edge of the bed. One of his hands comes to rest on your blanket covered ankle, fingers pressing into you.

“So where’s the kid?”

“Cara agreed to take him for a few hours. I thought that we could both use the break.”

“Oh,” your eyebrows raise, “you’re not worried?”

“Not if she’s the one watching him. Dune is one of the fiercest warriors I know.”

“Fair,” your reply comes with a yawn, “I know she can protect him, but I meant can she handle the bugger when he’s being a little butthead. Either way, I think not having to be responsible for him for a few hours was a good call on your part.”

“It also gives us the opportunity to be alone,” Din adds. It sounds like there’s something behind his voice and his words, but what you’re not sure.

Crawling out from the blanket again in order to make your way to join him at the foot of the bed, you lay on your side with your head propped up in one hand as you run a finger along the dark hair of Din’s bare forearm. His sleeves rolled up is an attractive look to be sure. You can’t help but think that this would be the perfect time to become more intimate with the Mandalorian, in the way you’ve been day dreaming about since you first met. Seeing yourself in the reflection of his beskar helmet, though, you can’t help but still feel awkward about the prospect. You cast your eyes back down to his tan skin, soaking in the image of it.

“I’m sorry things have been weird, Din. That I’ve been weird.”

He looks down at you, voice stern, “Please do not apologize.”

“I can’t help it. I feel awkward.”

“That does not merit an apology, though.”

You groan, saying nothing. After a few moments pass, you scoot closer to him and nuzzle your nose into his right thigh. The muscle there feels so tight and thick, reminding you that the body beneath his clothes is incredibly strong. The body you could have the opportunity to see if you just force yourself to make a move.

“Fuck this,” you say after a long pause, “I can’t do this anymore.”

His voice sounds mildly alarmed, crackling through the modulator, “You can’t do what anymore?”

Sitting up and placing a hand on each of his shoulders, you slowly swing one of your legs over his and suddenly you’re straddling his lap. Trying your best to ignore your own reflection, you look right into the black visor with your face hovering a few inches in front of his silver head.

“What are you-,” he begins to ask but you place a finger to the area of the helmet where his mouth should be to halt his question.

“Shh,” you coo, moving your hands from his shoulders to cup the sides of his metal covered cheeks, fingers splayed across the beskar. His hands fly up to grab each of your wrists, clearly afraid that you may try to remove his helmet as he intones your name sharply. You shake your head, fixing him with a humorless expression. “Din, I would never try to take this off of you. I respect you and I respect your religion. Please relax. I told you, I don’t care about seeing your face. This is you to me.”

His hands don’t move but his grip looses a little, “Then what is it you can’t do anymore?”

Bravery takes control of your tongue, voice dipping to a more sultry tone as flesh meets beskar when your forehead presses to the metal surface. “I can’t keep pretending that I don’t want you to fuck me senseless on a daily basis. I can’t keep pretending that I don’t want you.”

Din chuckles a little, causing you to worry that you sound foolish, but then he explains himself, “So that’s what ‘fuck’ means? You really do need to stop saying it in front of the kid.”

A small, not so innocent smile plays at your lips, “I try not to, really I do.”

“Mm,” he hums, making one of your favorite sounds. His hands come to grip your waist, modulator hissing as his voice takes on a tone you’ve never heard before, “such a bad girl sometimes.”

“Only sometimes,” you pout, “Most of the time I’m a good girl.”

“My girl,” he breathes, pressing you against him as closely as possible and you suddenly feel a stiffness beneath you that was not present before. Hearing him refer to you possessively while he grows hard is fucking elating.

With your forehead still pressed to his helmet, your hands come to the back of his neck as your hips begin to grind, “My boy. My lovely, touch-starved boy. Everyone else sees you as the Mandalorian, as the warrior. I see a sweet boy who could use a little loving in his life.”

“Right now there’s nothing sweet about how I feel,” he growls, his own hips bucking up to press into your warmth.

Sharp pangs of need cause you to twitch on top of him, whining his name, “Din.”

“Say my name again. It sounds so damn good when you say it like that.”

“Din, please.”

Hands moving to cup your ass, he stands and brings you up with him before spinning you around to place you on the bed. Your own hands stay at the back of his neck, playing with the littlest bit of hair you can feel beneath the helmet’s edge. Your legs wrap around his lean waist, never breaking contact with him as he adjusts you beneath him.

“Tell me what you want, my mesh’la.”

Din’s head is hovering a few inches above yours, so you lift up a little and press your lips to the beskar. “I want you, Din Djarin. Any part of you that you can give.”

Your answer is meant to let him know that you truly never expect the helmet to come off, not even now. You’re not sure if the message comes across, but even so Din continues to touch you. His hands are slowly pushing up your shirt and reaching beneath the fabric, inching up towards your breasts. He’s moving at a snail’s pace, as if he's savoring every little bit of flesh one spot at a time. God, his fingertips are like tiny explosions against your skin.

Then a lighting strike of Ranik’s blood stained, dead eyed visage jolts through your mind.

Gasping, you start to shove Din off of you. “Fuck, stop. Stop.”

Dismayed, Din backs off from touching you as if he’s been burned. “What’s wrong?”

Frustrated, you slam a fist down on the bed before bringing your hands up to cover your eyes. “I saw Ranik’s dead face in my head. Ugh, god dammit I just want to be over this and never think about it again.”

Din looks you over, then he gently lays himself down beside you, careful not to touch you again until you express feeling ready. “It’s not that simple. You’ve got to allow yourself to go through this, to think about it. Avoiding thinking about it is a part of the problem. The first time I killed, I was conflicted over it for weeks. A younger foundling than myself was in danger. I saved his life, but even so I felt guilt over it and tried to purge it from my mind. In the end I learned that once I allowed myself to just feel the guilt, I was then able to make peace with my decision to take a life. It became easier after that and I was eventually able to move on.”

You peek out at him from between your fingers, soaking in his advice for a long moment. “Thanks for being so understanding. I really do want to, you know,” you awkwardly gesture between the two of you.

“I know,” Din says with a nod, “In due time. May I hold you?”

Nodding, you scoot yourself over towards him and his arm wraps around your waist. He pulls you into a little spoon position, his fingers finding yours and interweaving as he curls himself behind you.

Din’s voice softly breaks the silence after a long moment, “I have something for you. I haven’t wanted to give it to you because it never felt like the right time. I didn't want it just to be a reminder of what happened.”

“Well now you have my interest peaked,” you say, turning your head to raise an eyebrow at him. He got you something? That adds a new level to whatever this is.

“Sit up,” he lightly commands, dislodging himself from you to go grab his belt.

“Your belt? Now I’m really intrigued,” you say with a smirk, part of you wanting to find a way to get back to the sexual encounter that had to get cut short.

“Hilarious. Turn around and close your eyes,” he says in that same tone of light command as he snaps open one of the little leather pockets.

Feeling that heat in your core start to fire up again, you follow his instructions with a little grin playing at your lips. “Mm. I kind of like it when you tell me what to do. It’s sexy.”

Din ignores you, coming to sit behind you on the bed again. You can sense his hands on either side of your head, the hairs on your neck standing up at the feeling. When a small cool thing comes to rest just below your neck and you can feel Din fasten it behind your head, you realize that it’s a necklace. Your hand reaches up to feel the chain, then to the tiny pendant nestled between your collarbones.

“No way,” you say, opening your eyes to look down at it. Sure enough, it’s the planet necklace you’d wanted from the old lady’s stand on Nar Shaddaa. “You went back for this?”

“Not exactly. Circumstances led to me acquiring it,” Din explains loosely. “Perhaps this can serve as a reminder of how strong you are.”

“I… fuck, thank you. This means a lot, Din.”

He leans forward to bump the side of your head with the helmet, “You’re welcome, ner burc’ya.”

“I like bumping heads like that, it feels oddly intimate,” you remark, smiling at him.

“In my culture that is our form of sharing a kiss,” he says plainly, causing your heart to burst.

“Oh, well in that case feel free to do that all the time.”

Just as you think that you’ve calmed down enough to try getting frisky with your Mandalorian again, a knock and a voice at the door causes the both of you to jump.

“It’s Cara,” the voice sounds exasperated, “I give up, babysitting is definitely not my thing. You can have your kid back now.”

You and Din look at each other and share a hearty laugh.

*****

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Masterlist

*****

Taglist:

@luc-k-y | @theslytherinwriter | @somewereinthegalaxi | @leithatnight

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noellewrxtes · 1 month

Note

why no more of tupelo blues snippet?

hi anon! thank you for asking! unfortunately, i have very little free time in my personal life at the moment and not a whole lot of spare time left for writing. i also have a bunch of different wips i'm juggling so when i do have time to write i'm not necessarily working on tupelo blues.

all of that said, i'm really happy that you were interested enough to ask and it's been a while since i've posted a snippet anyway so i dug through my drafts and found this flashback scene that i like a lot and i hope you do as well! <3

Itachi crept in just after three o'clock, more than an hour after the funeral had ended and Shisui had locked himself away to be miserable in peace. He cracked the door open and knocked softly on the door frame to announce his presence, eyes watching Shisui warily like he wasn't sure if he was entirely welcome and Shisui kind of hated himself for even making it a question.

He sighed and pushed himself into a sitting position. "Hey, what's up?"

"Should I leave?"

Guilt reared up within Shisui's chest, though he knew that wasn't Itachi's intention. It lingered there nonetheless, tinging his words with weariness as he answered, "No, you don't have to."

"But should I?"

Another wave of guilt crashed over him, this one stronger. "No," Shisui promised, exhaling his exhaustion into the air between them. "No, you shouldn't."

Itachi's brows pulled together just slightly and his gaze watched Shisui in concern, but he stepped inside and pulled the door shut behind him, the handle making a soft click as the door settled into its frame. Itachi leaned back against it, leaving an entire room full of space between them but, god, if it didn't feel like more and, god, if Shisui wouldn't give his right arm to know how to close that gap. He didn't know. He didn't feel like he knew much of anything right then, but he knew he wanted Itachi to stop looking at him like he might bite if he wasn't careful.

Shisui held out a hand for him and looked up with tired eyes. "Come here?"

There was a moment, brief as it was, where Itachi gazed at him with caution in his eyes and Shisui thought he was going to say no and it was going to absolutely fuck him up when he did. But he didn't--he nodded his head and pushed himself up from the door, crossed the room carefully until he was within reach and Shisui could draw him slowly, ever so gently, into a loose embrace. Itachi stood above him, running a hand through his curls, and he didn't ask Shisui where he had been or why he hadn't responded to any of his texts and that kind of made it all worse.

In all honesty, Shisui wasn't really sure he had an explanation to give, anyway. Instead he looked up at Itachi from his seat with sad eyes and said, "I'm sorry."

Itachi, determined to prove yet again that he was a better person than Shisui deserved, hummed and pulled Shisui's head into his stomach comfortingly. "Don't be."

And Shisui buried his face into the fabric of Itachi's shirt and squeezed him tight and didn't cry.

#this is a sad scene though #because it is right after shisui's dad's funeral #noelle chats #noelle writes #tupelo blues #shiita #snippets

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alstroemerian-dragon · 10 months

Text

thinking about the several month period where the survivors (plus the two who are already awake) work to 1) wake up mahiru 2) support her through healing and then 3) wake up peko

and how utterly Miserable that period of time has to be for fuyuhiko

(more under the cut because its another long one babey)

like. okay. heres a couple of disclaimers: this is a repeat, but i have not watched the anime. so if the character dynamics from it are your canon, just know i may not follow that. second, i… dont really think about mahiru that much. shes not really that much of a character to me, given what were given in canon, and the Casual Man Hating Mom Friend Lesbian (and i know she canonically has a crush on hajime so shes definitely bi or pan dont yell at me) trope just does nothing for me im sorry HOWEVER. in contrast to fuyuhiko, and in terms of what, in my brain, she does during the tragedy (which will probably WILDLY contradict literally everyone else’s opinions), there IS something in… her* arc post sim (that * will come back) that DOES interest me. bear with me

fuyuhikos ingrained belief system revolves almost entirely around the phrase ‘There is always a bigger fish.’ there is always going to be someone stronger, bigger, and more dangerous than you, so you have to work to be the strongest, biggest, and most dangerous you can in order to stay alive. along with that, he’s had very strangled views of what it means to be a Man shoved down his throat by most likely his father, so to him, being a man means being Big and Strong and Dangerous. but at the same time… he knows thats all bullshit. hes had other influences in his life, peko, his sister and, in my mind, his mother and other strong women high up in his clan, that have shown him the falsehoods of a lot of those claims. at the same time, he also knows, in the back of his head, that he physically can not meet those expectations for being a man. but… he is one. i think hes Solid in that. so it ends up all conglomerating and fighting in his head in a very confusing mess, which honestly has to be exhausting.

mahiru, by contrast, seems to have this very odd two-part system of beliefs, where being a man means being Confident and Strong and Protective, but at the same time, men are fundamentally Lazy and Stupid and Uncaring. women need to be protected by men, but also men are unnecessary. its… yeah its honestly familiar lmao. and some of this is the writers’ beliefs seeping in and some of it is bad writing but at the end of the day its what weve got.

so, to me, it really feels like the two of them would have absolutely hated each others guts during school. fuyuhiko is neither Big and Strong and Caring, nor is he Lazy and Stupid and Uncaring. he cares a lot, but not openly, or in a way that mahiru would easily recognize. hes an enigma in her eyes. and to fuyuhiko, mahiru is stuck in a frame of mind hes been fighting since he was a child, and as much as he’d try to be sympathetic, his anger has a tendency to get the better of him.

so… sato’s death would only have made this situation worse.

i dont think any of them knew he was responsible for her death. i dont think fuyuhiko told ANYONE aside from peko, especially since this would have been in their second year, after junko had begun sinking her talons into the entire class. how could he trust any of them? and he has to have known about her connection to mahiru, its the only way he could have found out she was involved in natsumi’s death. he kept it from her in particular, knowing she wouldn’t understand, knowing she would blame him, knowing it would just make things worse.

she probably doesnt realize the full extent of everything until… until after she wakes up.

im not gonna go too much into them as despairs, but lets just say that fuyuhiko… is responsible for a lot of bad things, even ones that happened to his fellow limbs. mahiru also did a lot of shit, but hiko i think is one of the only ones who hurt his so-called allies. and her cheery, fake, influencer-like attitude absolutely grated on him like crazy, resulting in a lot of screaming matches and even physical altercations.

so, when mahiru wakes up, her opinion of fuyuhiko is the lowest it could possibly be. hes an enigma, a stick in the gears, a man who hasnt yet shown his true colors and yet is also a violent, cruel dictator, fulfilling every expectation she has for the kind of man she expects the Ultimate Yakuza to be.

except he isnt. because by the time she wakes up, its been over a year and a half since the program shut down, and fuyuhiko is a very, very different person. and he doesnt have a low opinion of her at all. hes incredibly sympathetic to her situation, understands how much pain shes probably in, understands theres definitely a lot more under her surface beliefs that he doesnt see or know yet. thinks it was incredibly brave of her to stand up to him despite knowing he could be violent and dangerous.

and as the days go by, she sees that. sees him interacting with the others, sees him laugh at one of hajimes stupid jokes, sees him smile and roll his eyes at kazuichi’s physical affection, sees him lean on his cane when his leg flares up, sees him rubbing at the scars around his eye when they ache. sees how much respect he treats her with, how much space he gives her while not avoiding confrontations, because hes done running. hes been running for far too long, and hes done with it.

i think it takes a long time. weeks, maybe. months, possibly. but i think it starts to weigh on her mind, that she cant keep treating him like a criminal. like a weapon. cant keep ignoring his humanity in favor of the label of Violent Man that sits in her brain. and, additionally, interacting with the others, with hajime, with sonia, with kazuichi and sagishi. she starts to realize how utterly stupid the rigid gender structures that exist in her heard really are.

basically what im saying is i think mahiru is a he/him butch bi woman because i love to hit characters with the Cool Ass Gender ray. this is where that * comes back by the way thats why thats there because mahirus not a girl but also he is a girl but also hes not. hope this helps <3 also he and fuyuhiko are Worsties. they should eventually get to a point where they can both make jokes about the fact that fuyuhiko tried to kill him and can also have serious conversations about the sato and natsumi shit without devolving into unproductive arguing.

AND THEN PEKO WAKES UP FUCK THIS WAS SUPPOSED TO BE ABOUT—

#personal #meta #danganronpa #fuyuhiko kuzuryu #mahiru koizumi #yeah im character tagging its about them. whatever #sorry to all the mahiru fans out there but his canon shit is just sooooo boring to me #i have to do something interesting with him or ill simply die #and hes too entwined with fuyuhiko and pekos arcs and storylines for me to allow myself to ignore him entirely so. here you go.#this is me trying really really hard to find something to grasp onto in him #i guess the ‘and then peko wakes up’ post is gonna have to be another one #i just think about mahiru waking up and asking coldly if fuyuhiko made it and he from out of her line of sight goes ‘im right here.’#and she just goes RIGID.#the angst i gobble it down out of my hands like a fucking animal

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bluebudgie · 9 months

Text

So I have this long-standing tradition where, after I finish a video game, I sit down and listen to the soundtrack outside of the game's context.

It serves as a sort of "conclusion" to the experience and simultaneously helps me evaluate the game as a whole a little better... After all the soundtrack is often what sticks with us long after we're done actively playing a game. It preserves the memories we've made along the way.

That means: I have finally found the FF Sixteen OST online in its entirety and could finally follow through with this tradition. (Debatable how much it applies considering I didn't actually play the game myself, but it felt necessary.)

The final missing piece to the pissbaby gamer rage essay. Significantly less raging this time, though.

It's okay. I don't love it. There's worse.

I had very unfavourable opinions of the OST during the game itself which might have been due to the overall pacing issues, where large stretches were filled with the same hub music and then everything bombastic all happened at once and either side of the coin was exhausting in its own way.

I still can't believe there are over 200 songs in the OST when I could have sworn I heard like. Maybe 10 or so during gameplay. A lot of it is very same-y. A large part of the OST can be split into "loud choir explosion" or "sad piano". There isn't a whole lot in between. Good for people who like it, not so much for me.

Which means my biggest issue is the very subjective "I just don't like the style". It's not a bad soundtrack, but I'm just really not a fan of the direction the music took. The battle themes are over the top (fair for the equally over the top DBZ kaijū battles, annoying with 3 wolves that show up on the side of the road). The calmer songs don't really hit right for me. No chord progressions or melodies that hook me. Unfortunate. I did however appreciate the electronic influences in the music when the alien baddies were on screen. (in this fantasy game that is based on medieval reality and that's why people of colour cant exi-)

I have also since learned that there isn't one acoustic guitar song that plays for 20 hours straight. There are like 6 or so that all sound the same. I don't know if that makes it better or worse. I hate them all. (I don't hate acoustic guitars. It's these songs in particular.)

That said - I was curious about which ones are people's favourite tracks of the OST and went checking those out in particular. Consistently in people's tops was Ascension and I can't deny that one's been plagueing (semi-endearing) my memory a bunch the past days. Probably the theme that stuck out the most to me while watching the game. If not the entire theme, then at the very least That Violin Part. If you know, you know.

You know what. If you don't know, here:

(footage stolen from here)

Like damn. Good rhythm going on there with the off beats. Also fits the relevant character nicely in terms of mood. And I like that the battle phase before this one has a more low-key version of this song playing before it goes into this full ham version.

I just kinda wish more of the battle music had been a bit more... this. A bit more... subtle. Like yes it slaps hard but this song legitimately feels calm in comparison to the other battle tracks. This drives me nuts.

There's one other song I keep getting stuck in my head which is one that plays fairly close to the end (in the final... "dungeon" (cutscene? sequence? QTE battle?)). I figured out today that I don't actually really enjoy listening to the song on its own but I like it in-game in combination with the voice perfomance. There's an interesting dissonance in it that blends super nicely with the voice acting. (I'm being held hostage by the game's voice acting. It's unfortunately way too good. Voice actors are once again holding too much power over me.)

Other than that... I have one final criticism. The prelude theme. We must. Leave it. Alone. Enough. It's fine playing once as a gimmick somewhere in the game (I do genuinely like the menu (pause screen?) arrangement) but having it woven into what seems like every 5th song feels like someone is smacking a sign into your face that screams "YOU ARE PLAYING A FINAL FANTASY GAME." Seriously it's unbearable. (Also I did take notice of the FF1 overworld theme being rearranged into a battle theme for the final segment of the game. I don't know why, but fine. Not complaining about that one.)

Overall it's a solid "mh" from me. Not the worst OST we've had in the series (thirteen trilogy exis-COUGHAGFNJKN) but definitely on the lower end for me. Not of bad quality, but not my cup of tea at all. Dark Souls III OST executed the epic orchestra choirs better somehow. More interesting composition. Spaced out better throughout the game. Idk.

Welp. Back to getting haunted by voices and violins now o/

#at some point i will have made 122 posts about this game and every single one will be about the exact same battle sequence #like a horse wearing a blinker

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gayspock · 4 months

Text

ok 1 menty b for me

i dont know. i think its just always been so alienating. i think theres something wrong with me and its unfixable. and sometimes, if i cant have anything else, i just want at least the fucking chance to express that without people thinking even less of me. and ik in reality nobody even gaf or sees me. but i also know know that if they did, 9times out fo 10 people would be rolling their eyes. whatever. idk. i feel so lonely and i dont think im ever not going to be lonely and its never going to get better because even when given the resources, the opportunities i just can never manage . i just cant . i swear i try . but every single time. my whole fucking life . i just walk away from everything with even less, it feels like. and its getting so much harderand harder. and i dont know how to express it liek ... i fucking feel myself SEETHE as ppl keep insisting "theres still a chance! there's still hope!" like sure bro. but i dont want to fucking keep living my life along the fucking asymptote of getting consistently closer to dying alone but "haha technically its not a certainty" and . like theres just something so fucking repulsive about me and i just cant seem to fix it no matter what. and im so exhausted all the time. and i genuinely dont think theres any way out of that . i go to work and i come home so burnt out and tired. and people are nice there but i dont think i can really connect with anyone . i just cant seem to get close to people . and i dont have it within me to meet anyone else because im so fucking tired all of the time .

and even if i did and i mustered all the energy and spent all the little time i had left in the world i dont think theyd have time for me. not just bc nobody in their 20s does but also because i dont know . it just never seems to work . and i cant do it again where i try to invest every little piece of me into it when its jsut always left me fucking miserable and pathetic. bro do you know what i mean. not to be 16 and lame as shit still. i feel like im always the idiot ppl take pity on at best . i dont think ive ever been real to anybody. like alwaysssssss...... and even now i feel like every time I HAVE existed within circles of others. its literally 10 times out of 10 just constantly fighting to be included and seen as someone whos not a fucking joke and i just feel like such a fucking . loser for caring so much about it when. REALISTICALLY. pretty much all the people ive met in life will have forgotten i exist. and ok. ok. i just dont think ... like its not like some trait within me right like ... im not As melodramatic to be like oh . oh theres an actual innate trait within me thats activated and stops people liking me. just. the contrary like. i just think theres nothing within me to actually like . or to gravitate towards. so likeyeah sure . that makes sense. why WOULD you want to bother with someone whos just kinda hollow or whatever.. something something or other. and i kind of wish i was more resilient about tht. but i jsut . i guess as is a Guy of that Nature, its just ... im trying to fucking not fucking spiral but i just feel myself fucking filling up with fucking . miserable SHITTY bile or whatever because i just wish i felt normal or whatever. its such a fucking human fucking thing that other people can MANAGE. but i cant . its so so fucking hard and i cant do it and i cant handle it. and i just feel so angry sometimes anyways . bc i hate it . and i keep trying bc i wanna make peace with it because i know theres no out . like ive long since given up on ever thinking its going to work out . because nothing fucking helps but makes it so much worse . anyways. i dont know. but i dont know bro. it drives me fucking insane when people always spout some bs about how "haha everyone has someone! everyone will find someone! like no they dont no they wont . its so .. so much more isolating. or like "EVERYONEEE feels lonely sometimes" like HOW does that help. HOW. and it makes it so MUCH FUCKING WORSEEEE when people tell you about how lonely they are too!!! like cool . i dont have a chance then. sorry i know thats such a bitter bitch thing to say. but idk if it rlly matters like ... at the end of the day idc when ppl have partners. or people they talk to. family who loves them. and youre still lonely. cool. thank you for letting me know, dude. go back to the people who will look out for you and love you whilst i sit in the dark and not speak to anyone for weeks whilst not a single person would even notice im gone .

or like. bro. i dont think a single person has taken me seriously for long enough to ever fucking like me or hold me in enough regard to like... want to talk to me again nevermind like be with me in a certain sense so i jsut. i dont know. sits alone. every fucking day for years maybe. i dont know. i feel so fucking sad and angry knowing deep down that i can know all this and know its true but even then . i cant even have that . people wont even take THAT part of me seriouslyand think im just some fucking idiot whos not even trying. when i really reallyhave but its just so... worthless it feels like . it feels like im never getting anywhere and everyone thinks i just gave up when i didnt. and i dont know. thar makes it sound like people actually see me and really are laughing or something when i dont think its nearly that much. i think its like oh people see me make that as a snap judgement and i fall out of existence again. and i dont know. it shouldnt matter but i feel so fucking strung out and exist between these instances only and idk. idk bro. im trying to be okay with it. but as im getting older i just feel like theres so many more things that are revealing themselves as worse and worse. and im going crazy. im going crazzzzzzyyyy . whatever . insert the mental breakdown gifs . the funny ones where those guys aremoving really fast

#egg.txt

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gremzoff · 8 months

Note

have you ever stopped whining to think that maybe,, just maybe, the hate you receive is true? Without whining and crying about it? That maybe, just maybe you're just not…good enough? Or as good as everyone else? People care about the 'basic' ocs because theyre just? Entertaining? Or maybe the artstyle is good? Have you thought about that? Obviously people will idolize who they think is cool. Also, you're 18? You're an adult now. And youre acting like this? Crying and getting your snot everywhere because you arent getting as much attention as the bigger blogs/creators? Or because your oc isnt that loved? Because the fandom got bigger and so the creators with actually good content are getting more notes? Is this your first fandom experience? I thought you were -12 y/o before seeing the bright "18" (shocked). Every fandom has its flaws, you said it yourself. The bigger the fandom, the bigger the flaws. Hat tipped to you for wanting to keep your peace and no longer interacting with the fandom.

Maybe before going in anon and sending these kinds of threatening/insulting asks calling others immature, you should look in the mirror. Attacking people for their personal decisions and opinions, calling them "12 yo" and immature, this is the real immature act. Why are you doing this, you need to make yourself feel tough? Anyway.

I'm not the only one complaining. If you really cared, you would look around and see I'm far from the only one nor the first complaining about these issues.

This is far from my first fandom experience, I've been in much worse places. I consider that I've grown enough since then to see and point out what's wrong in a community. I see so many new members making posts saying how this fandom feels like a "big family"- but all it takes is actually getting deeper into it to see how rotten the situation is. Idolizing isn't ok. Kissing people's toes isn't ok- and the hypocrisy of some of these people, saying, oh we should support small artists, but then they don't even take time to even look at our stuff- and again, I am not talking only about myself, we are a handful feeling this exact same way, and it's exhausting.

This feeling of anger, sadness, jealousy even maybe, us, small creators can feel towards others is normal. We are human, and we have feelings too, and we shouldn't oppress them. Maybe this is what you fail to realise, the world doesn't revolve around you, others can, too, express feelings. We are allowed to have these feelings and opinions, and real maturity is when you'll accept this fact and scroll past posts that upset you, instead of sending hate.

This has been an exhausting journey. I'm not going to say this fandom has been the worst I've ever joined, like I said, I've been in much darker places. But this is definitely the first time I witnessed such behaviour with my own eyes- sometimes, it almost felt like a cult. And I am not saying this to play around with words and exaggerate my feelings as a shock value, it just takes basic understanding of human behaviour to see what's wrong. This fandom may seem friendly for some, but it isn't the case for everyone, especially if you have experience, and you've been here for a while.

Even if I'm grateful towards this community for some things -like my ocs, my friends, but also the fact I've improved my skills a lot during this journey- , I definitely feel bitter for all the negativity I felt. Between people bashing me for my creations, self doubt and anxiety for not being "good enough", not being able to keep up with posting everyday on my askblogs, or just this uncomfortable feeling of constantly getting thrown under the bus by people who are "more popular". Seriously, nobody would want to meet people who are somewhat known in the community, all that to realise that even in "small" fandoms, people will think they are better than you, and won't hesitate to step on you and almost erase you, but then their fragile ego gets shattered as soon as you dare to speak out about these issues, or worse, express your opinion about not liking their stuff.

I have so many things to say. I hope you get off of your chair and go take a bowl of fresh air outside, because you definitely need it, and probably on the way, look at yourself and reflect on your own behaviour.

#grem stuff #anon #onceler #tw onceler #also you must be determined to send anon hate to me since you went to my alt lmao

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rianafying · 5 months

Text

it’s 4am i have the worst migraine of all time. i’ve had it for four days now. it was okay yesterday so i thought ut was over but it’s back again, and i have to go to work cause i’ve got a huge makeup gig today. i have to do hair and makeup for 10 models, and im just, exhausted emotionally. i was supposed to do some drawings and attach them to the file, and i told my client i would do it many days ago, but i didn’t do it. partly because of my headache and partly because ive been forgetful.

update: it’s 8am, i haven’t slept, took some painkillers, been getting spontaneous bursts of anxiety since yesterday afternoon. i always feel a little anxious before a job, but it’s only part of the reason. i feel terrible rn. i feel bloated and crusty, and my hair looks terrible. a huge part of how i feel is based on how i look, and until im happy w the way i look (hair styled, outfit pressed, makeup done, accessorised) i don’t feel okay. and i just hate the way i look and i hate everything rn. i’m having one of those moments where nothing is okay. it is entirely in my head because on other days everything could go wrong and i’d still feel okay. i hate being at the mercy of my emotions. i need more time to gather myself than i have. work is in two hours, at least it’s only a 10 minute walk from my place so if i forget something or whatever, i can come back and get it. but i feel really anxious. i can physically feel it. and i’ve misplaced everything, and suddenly my room is all messy again. and all i want to do is sleep and complain. i wish i didn’t feel so crusty 99% of the time. and i felt so lonely yesterday, not the kind of loneliness that makes me wanna talk to people. it’s the kind that just is there. i don’t wanna talk to anyone. i hate everyone. and i just wanna be by myself. but that also feels bad. i have a social life, and i love my friends but it’s different. i could even see people if i wanted to but i don’t want to. why do i feel this way. i don’t wanna be with people i don’t wanna be by myself either. at least i don’t feel suicidal lately. i just feel annoyed. frustrated. especially with the migraine i just wanna throw things and break things. i never have and i never will actually throw or break things. but that’s how i feel. just super. irritated. i need time i hate being in a time crunch. none of my thoughts make sense and im simultaneously over and under stimulated. how is it too hot and too cold at the same time??? it’s too hot in my blanket but too cold if i take it off. and i can physically feel my skin, like i can feel a separate layer on my body. and im itchy and im so annoyed. its too loud and too bright. and i hate that the sun is up again, and i hate the sound of my alarm. i hate it. and u hate every terrible thing that has happened to me or to anyone. and my heart breaks for those who are going through so so so much worse. and nothing is right. this is not how it’s supposed to be. and i need my therapist. i’m gonna have a mental breakdown. i am having a mental breakdown. i can’t even cry lately. i don’t even drink water. i suck. of course im gonna feel this way. i dug myself into this hole.

another update: it’s almost 8pm, finally got home from work. it was just the most draining day ever. i’m exhausted but also strangely anxious. extremely anxious. the shoot went well, i think?? i hope!

#personal #journal entry

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non-un-topo · 5 months

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// health complaints / new years thoughts

GERD has made the holidays very challenging this year. I'm trying to take it seriously now, since I'm tired of being in constant pain and discomfort, and now that I know my enamel and my esophagus have sustained some damage. I'm twenty-fucking-six. Also haven't taken any painkillers (OTC) since I was diagnosed, because those are what caused this. So I'm just always in pain in multiple places in my body. That and the exhaustion and weakness.

We're having meatballs with rigatoni tonight, and I am so psyched about it but I can't touch them unless I want my insides to burn all night. I'm already really pushing it by planning to drink tonight.

I'm just excited to graduate so I can finally, finally prioritize my health and start getting strong. Can't do university and health at the same time. Can't do university and anything at the same time, really.

I've been stewing in a deep depression that's bouncing between anger and apathy for a while... I don't know how long. Can't remember. A day of feeling depressed feels like six months. Dysphoria is my prime suspect, since it's decided to become much worse than I ever imagined for myself. I'm just tired and my brain is empty and I feel like I don't care about anything. Wish I could turn these feelings into another stupidly long fic, but I hate everything I create lately.

Wish I had something optimistic to say, but I'm hoping the new year will run its course calmly, and that each of us will stick around on this rock. I'll either be on T by this time next year, or I'll have chickened out again.

Better news? I'm going to a disco tonight.

#no replies pls #im just thinking aloud

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