#the blob ghost is very protective of their new child

[petite-phthora]

Dp x Dc prompt #6

Verda the blob ghost was just casually floating around, enjoying exploring the different cities.

While they’re quite old in ghost terms, Verda has never really gone to the human world before.

So, they got curious and one thing led to another and now they’re here. Floating around from place to place, exploring.

Everything here is so different here from the ghost zone and—

Oh!

Verda stopped dead in their tracks when they feel a call for help coming form another core.

And not just any other ghost core. No, it’s a baby core calling for help!

Well of course Verda has to go check it out and help the poor distressed thing.

And if they end up becoming the new ghostly parent to a recently formed baby ghost?

Well, Verda believes that they’ll be perfectly fine taking care of their new child.

---

Jason doesn’t know what the hell is going on.

All he knows is that he got in a though spot in a fight without back-up and then a glowing green floating blob thing showed up that has refused to leave since.

It somehow got him out of the fight safely and now it keeps following him around. No matter what he tries, he can’t get rid of it.

He even tried shooting it, only for it to happily eat the bullets!

He glances at the blob.

Well… the little guy does look quite cute…

It seems to notice he’s looking and, while it’s hard to read its body language or facial expression, he gets a distinct feeling of happiness-calm-reassuring from it that leaves him slightly rattled.

#dp x dc #dc x dp #dpxdc #dcxdp #dp x dc crossover #dp x dc prompt #i grabbed the jason is a baby ghost and older ghosts can adopt baby ghosts aus and mashed them together #usually i see something about danny ghost adopting jason as ghost parent #or jason normally adopting a de-aged danny #but i thought nah jason gets a little blob ghost as his new parent #congrats jason! youre adopted! again! #and yes i was very uncreative with the blobs name #I couldn’t think of anything so i went with green in Esperanto #so the blobs name can be changed to anything #just didnt wanna leave them nameless in the prompt :p #the blob ghost is very protective of their new child #and also very proud of them #cheering for jason at the sidelines of every fight #in the first meeting the blob saved jason by just- eating the guys he was fighting with #what happened to them??? dont worry about that jason #worry abt your new ghostly parent

[rainybyday]

dc x dp idea where it started with the blob ghost, not the rouges or danny’s ghost rouges or the fentons. 

Just the blob ghost. 

Like, imagine if one of the Bats find these cute adorable little critters that seem to come in packs and mindlessly squeak and cuddle with them whenever they get close. Bats is obvisly pairnord but after a few days of Lazars Pit connections and seeing Jason visibly relax near the critters and saying how he felt calmer than ever the other batkids went crazy over them.

Damian tries to lure them home to keep them as pets and will always ‘protect them’. Jason is a blob ghost magnet and takes pleasure of just dropping in on some gang members who laugh at these seemingly harmless little blobs before he orders them to attack in glee. Dick loves to cuddle with them with Cass loving to play with them from hide-and-seek to simple peek-a-boo games. Tim just let them float around him and likes to poke them to see them giggle at times. Steph makes it her mission to get as many selfies as possible with them in weird random situations while Barbara seems to have little helpers who either nudge food at her or play around her computer set up with each other (Dick made them follow him to her place or op). 

Eventually Bruce just let it happens when he saw Alfred instructing the new “part-time staff” on how to cook shepherd’s pie. (and after a little comformation from Zatanna who said they are completely harmless) Soon after there would be at least one little blob ghost underneath batman’s cape.

Then one day the whole pack of blob ghost seem to be stress and worried, trying to nudge them to a direction as they seem very destressed about something. Eventually they do follow them only to find a corpus of a black haired and blue eye child. 

Everyone thought he was dead. Jason said he is still alive. 

#danny fenton #danny phantom #batman #dc x dp #dp x dc #blob ghosts #batfam

[augustus-rok]

Nebula AU

Maybe I'll write a fic for this, maybe i won't, but here are the basics. Also if this inspires you to write something chuck me a tag cause I wanna see it.

Set during older/later high school rather than freshman year for Danny. However the portal accident still happened at the canon time.

Ghosts are more or less invisible with out tools or certain contamination levels. This also applies to general noise they make, they have to focus extra to be heard by humans. Typically yelling only equates to a whisper when right next to someone if you're a ghost.

As Danny doesn't become a hero immediately and gets to settle into himself first, his ghost form reflects more his track towards being an astronaut. Aesthetic more along the lines of solar flares and start dust. When ghost do actually come through the portal with intent to do harm he gets a helmet and thick gloves and has a sort of jacket layer over top. I imagine that his ghost form suffers from something like what's described in this post, and the helmet and glove and jacket are learned extra thing.

Story stuff. So it turns out when the ONLY ghost to wander through the portal other than little glowing blobs that only hover, is the antithesis of your theories you have to go back to the drawing board. So the Fenton's (kept out of the loop for a couple of months) and GIW are very much good guys and BETTER Scientists. And the militaristic mind set is swiftly put down when all of the subjects (the one) book it at the slightest hint of aggression.

Now Valarie, nicknamed Red Huntress during her internship, interns/volunteers with the GIW as a field watch/interviewer for Nebula. Which is the code name given to a Danny who never introduces himself and as such gets named by vote like a new firetruck by the community.

Hey BTW this is a portal Danny AU in my head.

The basement portal? That is a direct route to his lair, which is an astronomer's dream wrapped in a, you guessed it, nebula. The Wastes (or the area the Fenton Portal spawns in in canon) inhabitants spend a good few months flipping out at the arrival of what looks like a god or something. It's a decidedly "do not fuck with that" thought process.

Danny eventual.y introduces himself and makes friends without the protect the town from day one aspect. They all tussle a bit but the other ghosts go "hey it's a baby" and give him a proper lay of the land.

Cut to 21/2 years later after the Portal Accident, and Vlad decides to be a bastard and go after the adopted mascot.

Now the scientists have all learned that fighting= play/bonding. So they are all wildly caught off guard by the very sudden warpath through the city park.

Vlad doesn't put together Halfa Danny in this AU until well after there's been conflict. And after he managed to expose the active portal to ghosts outside of the immediate area of the portal that are perfectly willing to break into Danny's lair and some have figured out the horror aspect described here: FIC I RECOMMEND

So back to that fight. Ghosts are QUIET, especially Danny who even with the tech, radio/coms that make other ghost audible, has to be boosted to be heard by even other ghosts. (I imagine lots of sign language in this au) So this darling little sky watching ghost screams, a terrified child's noise, as this ghost that looks like a Vampire and a hoard of vultures(?) actively assault the poor thing? God the humans, the humans are scared. Everyone could hear that out side of the coms, and everyone saw it. They got good at televising the ghosts.

Sam and Tucker, decidedly only civilians are terrified for their friend. They know what play fighting looks like, they've been to the lair. Valarie who catches on fast thanks to being the intern bestie to Nebula and maybe future girlfriend to Daniel "Hot space nerd in row 4 of homeroom" Fenton, is forced as fights, proper devastating ones, continue happening to keep her friends away. Especially the first time. Most importantly that first fight.

REMEMBER Danny's portal, not the one in the basement. Well he stretches, upper body desperately crawling away from his lower half trapped by the vultures, keening all the way. Still scarily audible. Then from the gap made of flaring stardust and molten plasma that is the active void that consumes the area his stomach would have been was he human- Comes a raging adult ghost. More than one possibly.

I especially like the idea of Skulker and his missle launcher showing up, being the third ever recorded humanoid ghost, and absolutely steamrolling Plasimus who is not a Halfa as in halfway point like Danny is so loved by the Waste ghosts for being. But rather just half a ghost, a human with a funky little boon.

Now as Skulker has the time of his afterlife chasing Vlad and the Vultures, lets have say Lunch Lady slip out of Danny's portal, maybe one of the more teenagery ghosts too.

Anyways, instant fussing. Danny relaxes enough to stop being a portal to hell and the humans are very careful in approaching them all. What with the older ghost's yelling at the aggressors to leave the baby alone. Skulker is dramatic, and likes embarrassing the whelp.

After this point things beginning to resemble canon more, only the humans have a natural non-guessing gauge of hostility for the ghosts in town.

They figure out pretty fast that the physical portal and Nebula portal only let through friendlies. (Not entirely true but they don't know that.) And the threats, well lets just say Nebula is never caught off guard in his own territory again. He becomes ruthless.

Meanwhile, Danny Fenton has friends both dead and alive helping him fight a guerrilla war against madmen. He sits in class undisturbed even as he tracks the startbursts he knows are his friends protecting him and everyone else untill he's free. He huddles in the attic crawlspace filling out data sheets and pin boards as his girlfriend and best friends scour government documents.

Nebula sits in the portal, toxic light cascading like water around him, watching his parents and GIW agents work in the FentonWorks lab.

He always gives good greetings to those who offer, and when asked he whispers secrets of the universe he's learned from the source over the radio.

The scientists for get to ask for his sources, but when they do they are always both awed and terrified of the sources.

Things go well. And things as always progress.

Link to Doodle I did that actually drove me writing all this.

#my chaos #my stuff #my writing #danny phantom #portal! danny au #nebula au #headcannons #dpxdc #crossover possibilities #i picture like jl involvement and it being like people trying to charging willy nilly and being road blocked by the natives #danny fenton #good parents jack and maddie #good scientists jack and maddie #good scientists GIW

[unadulteratedsoulsweets]

A DC X DP IDEA #11 The Ice Prince

Imagine dis….

 The plot is always Clockwork reversing Danny’s age to a toddler’s or a child’s age to be found in the grimy alley of Gotham City, to fix a broken family, an overdue vacation, or is it because it was meant to be? But what if they found a child who is nothing more than a mere babe?

 …

 War has consequences whether you are on the right side or not, consequences will come up to you. Death, injury, sexual violence, hunger, disease, and disability are some of the most dangerous physical repercussions of war, while PTSD, despair, and anxiety are some of the emotional consequences.

 Danny experienced all, from the physical damages he had taken to protect his citizen to the emotional as well the phycological effects that will haunt his mind throughout his immortal life.

Jack and Maddie Scientists and the GIW had done it, waging war against the Infinite realms.

 Using ectoplasm, the very being that they have despised to use as weapons to aim and maim.

 Humans tend to hate and fear what they don’t understand.

 In this case, fear caused this war.

 Unlike in the history books whose wars started due to greedy politicians or even the thrill or greed to attain new land, this war was caused by fear.

 The fear of the unknown.

 At 16 years of age, Danny is crowned and alongside his trusted friends as well as his former enemy Vlad Masters all gathered their things and went back to the Infinite Realms to prepare for war.

 At 16 Danny witnessed the horrors as well witnessing the lines humans will cross to satisfy their greed.

 Each day that Danny is planning or even fighting alongside his friends, family, and even ex-rogues for their home and the universe’s and multiverse’s balance, he would feel the pain, sorrow, and sadness of each of his citizens who were captured or even used to be the battery to be used against their people.

 At 16 Danny watched his very own parents, Jack and Maddie, cut open their former best friend to better understand ghost biology all in the name of ecto- science.

 Danny saw the betrayal and grief as well Vlad’s vulnerable state on how Maddie, the kind and caring Maddie whom he fell in love with, do such cruel things to innocent blobs of ghosts, do such inhumane things to him. Cutting him open like a frog in a dissection table, using large hooks to keep the two skin that were cut to show his ribcage, apart to keep them from healing.

 At 16 Danny joined the war alongside Frostbite, Pandora, Dora, and many more. Even Dan and Dani had joined him on the front lines to fight their parents to fight their inventions, their creations, the agents...etc, as well as rescuing many, many ghosts who were captured before this war even started.

 The first one to fall was his beloved sister Jasmine No-Name, who captured and was taken to the basement at the household of the Fenton’s. Each scientist kept drawing blood and kept poking her with needles to “cure” their daughter from any form of ectoplasm possession or mind control. Despite being liminal she was still mortal, freeing the innocent ghosts that were cruelly captured and caged by their parents destroying the lab, taking the blueprints, the weapons, and even the portal at the cost of her own life.

 Brother and sister, together as friends, ready to face whatever life sends.

 Next, was Sam Manson, her mentor Undergrowth and her going to the annex side of the building to create a massive distraction for the rest of their allies to destroy this particular lab as the lab that they were about to destroy is a cornerstone of the ongoing battery flow between the agents thus making this mission top priority. Blood Blossoms were involved causing great pain to both ghosts, as the agents were getting closer, they heard the explosion in the direction of the targeted lab, they were successful, and now all that is left is to retreat. But the pain as well as their inability to move is impossible and even more impossible to fight off the remaining agents who were exclaiming and shouting about the destroyed lab. With what little strength Sam had left in her, she stood up and commanded the plants to rescue Undergrowth as without him nature and flora would have died alongside him. As she saw the silhouette of her mentor/ father she made her last stand as one of the few friends of Danny now her King.

 Last to fall is Tucker Foley, his best friend, leading an army made out of entirely Egyptian culture. Being the right hand of the High King as he led another attack towards their government not only did their government bury their heads in the sand, but instead of diplomacy they have chosen to continue this war. As they were fighting by each other side, Tucker noticed an agent creeping closer to his King/ friend whose head was turned and busy due to the number of agents that kept him busy and unguarded. Tucker Foley did what any friend would do in that situation; he took the bullet aimed fatally at his best friend. Danny seeing that his best friend had just turned limp released his ghostly wail that contains his anger, sadness, grief, and horror as he cradles the body of his best friend as he held his last breath in the arms of his King and friend.

 We’re more than friends but less than a couple

 The government was getting desperate as each day the “ghosts” kept pushing them into a corner as their numbers dwindle each second while the other side’s army kept growing each passing day.

 Didn’t you know, A cornered animal is almost as dangerous as a wounded one?

 A Nuke, they have created a nuke. A nuke that has the combination of Blood blossoms as good ectoplasm as fuel and weapon, that was aimed and trajected to the Infinite Realms.

 But, who spoiled their plans?

 Blobs of ghosts gathered at the hidden base of humans and set off the nuke at their base.

 Blobs that were rescued by Princess Jasmine of the Infinite Realms.

 They didn’t expect the aftermath of such a weapon.

 The shockwave didn’t just end their world’s dimension but it reached the Infinite Realms almost wiping them out, it wasn’t for their King, Danny, who took the brunt of the aftermath and shock to protect the Infinite Realms where his remaining family reside.

 As a result, his form and core almost crack at the mere pressure, and result, Clockwork as his last card to protect Danny from disappearing for eternity turned him into a baby whose age could be merely a month old.

 Now that horrid dimension was gone, permanently, it is now up to the ancients and ex-rouges as well the rest of his family to raise Danny to the best of their abilities as he, Danny Nightgale is the bridge as well the very representation between the two worlds.

 The yetis that have lived in Far Frozen went and found a perfect dimension that has ectoplasm for their young King’s ghost half and human needs for his human half.

 Building a small castle made out of ice in the deepest part of the Arctic region, complete with rooms as well as things that will keep their young King’s attention in case he ever be bored.

 …

 Between the time they thought of settling down in the new dimension, in the DC universe, it had been thousands of years since the ascension of the High King Phantom. For those who have participated in the war it has been only a few months while in DC it has been thousands of years, to the point each magician in the JLD and Shazam knew about King Phantom, his benevolence and mercy shows no bounds. King Phantom who was a ward of the Master of Time and defeated the Pariah Dark to end his tyranny.

 …

 Alarms blared throughout the base of the JL and everyone was at the edge of their seats seeing that the alarm originated from the Fortress of Solitude, the base of Superman containing all the knowledge from his planet Krypton.

…

 Superman alongside Batman flew to the Artic to find out who trespassed, Superman fears the knowledge of Krypton falling into the wrong hands.

 As they were searching around the Fortress of Solitude, they came across a castle made entirely out of ice, Superman tried to look through it but received a headache the moment he tried to use it.

 With no choice left, both Batman and Superman went inside the castle to investigate.

 Passing through a large double door greeted them a large spiral-shaped staircase with the finest designs out of ice. Decorations and sculptures that decorate each nook and cranny of the castle are made out of ice that has the finest details to be mistaken as the real things. The largest chandelier hangs above them that seems to sparkle each passing second due to the little sun that bounces off each glass/ice. That creates the illusion of twinkling stars.

 Hearing footsteps from afar made both Batman and Superman hide in the closet that contains the cleaning supplies, looking through the smallest of cracks, they saw ice-shaped people that have sculpted hair and eyes but no mouth or nose wearing maid and butler outfits carrying books, toys and large folded sheets of clothes.

 All going in the opposite direction of which they have hidden.

 After making sure that those footsteps were no longer heard both Batman and Superman got out of their hiding place and went further deep the castle to investigate further.

 As they are walking along the endless hallways, they suddenly heard a small humming of a tune coming from another large double door with designs of space and stars embedded on the door.

 Peeking through a cracked door there they saw two green-skinned humanoid creatures with dragon-like features looking down, cooing, and humming to something. Due to their large size, they couldn’t see what they were looking for but after a few minutes, one of the human-dragon people turned off the lights and revealed their large wings, gave a few flaps and flew out alongside their companion using the large windows made from the most beautiful stained glass as an exit.

 Making the coast clear Batman was the first to go inside the room while Superman looked for the switch to turn on the lights. Through his cowl, Batman tried to guess the room that their two unexpected guests could have.

 The moment Batman’s eyes adjusted due to the sudden light invading his sight they immediately flabbergasted at the room could be.

 A playroom, complete with safety mats and toys that are either made from ice or silk.

 Looking around there they saw at the very center, a crib made out of glaciers with a space-themed mobile that seemed to spin around above the crib while releasing, looking closer there they saw a few months old human children, if the physical appearance of the child could go by.

 Black hair with the faintest of freckles across his face accompanied by his light skin that can be mistaken as dead.

 Warped in the finest silks as blankets while wearing some sort of Greek clothing as a means to cover the child.

 Fearing that the child was dead Batman turned to Superman to silently ask whether the child has a heartbeat or not.

 Superman stated that the child has a heartbeat a bit slow for his life but a heartbeat none less.

 Superman picks up the child with the resolve to return to the JL base to give the child a full check-up as well as to return him to his rightful parents.

 Batman countered that the humanoid-dragon-like people could be his parents but before Superman could even counter his claim flaps of wings were heard from a distance.

 In a panic, both Superman and Batman fled the room unknowingly carrying the infant.

 …

 At the JL base, Batman is scolding Superman for taking what could be a human-like dragon people’s child. Superman may have countered that the child he was carrying has no features from either of the possible parent and could be a kidnapped infant from the earth so that those humanoid dragons could play house.

 The Green Lanterns try to look for any planet that could be the origin of those dragon people, while the rest of the League are split in siding with Superman or Batman.

 With each passing second the volume of their argument kept getting higher and higher thus waking the infant still on Superman’s arm.

 Blue eyes like the sky and ice greeted them as the infant yawned as of saying that they have disturbed his nap time.

 Flash who was vibrating on his skin to coo at the child immediately ran up to Superman to take the infant.

 But the moment Danny saw the faintest amount of electricity that was being emitted from the Flash immediately started to wail.

 Loud but not loud enough to level the JL base, every JL member present with enhanced hearing covered their ears instinctively due to the noise the unbearable noise.

 Batman immediately snatched the child from Superman’s arm and began calming the child.

 After calming down the infant till he is only whimpering a very pale Constantine, Dr. Fate and Zattana burst into the meeting room scanning each nook and cranny till their eyes landed on the child that was still whimpering in Batman’s arms.

 Constantine demanded why on earth they have a child from the Infinite Realms and began to panic.

 As Constantine was out of commission for panicking Dr, Fate explained what the Infinite Realms is.

 As they were about to get back the child to where the ice castle was located another alarm blared at the JL base.

 Cyborg who was immediately typing across the computer for further explanation as see whether they have another world-ending threat made them double take.

 A blue-skinned man whose hair is unbound by gravity and floats upwards as if it was flames accompanied by two more people.

 One who looks like a vampire removing the avoidance of the sun as well adding a blue tone to his skin. Another looks like a female version of the first one aside from the green eyes and dark skin tone.

Zattana stuttering asked herself in a whispering voice why on earth King Phantom is destroying government facilities alongside the Count Masters as well the Princess of the Infinite Realms in the human world.

 Each time they demolish a facility down to the dust and rubbles they began scanning the area for what?

 A clapping and sound removed them from the carnage shown on the screen and saw the infant still in Batman’s arms reaching toward the people on the screen.

 Constantine mumbled something and began looking at the screen and the infant, and started widening his eyes as if he had just connected the dots.

 A union between a human and a ghost are unheard of but the fact that no new life/ afterlife was introduced since Pariah Dark made every life/ ghost in the Realms are now precious.

 But the resemblance between King Phantom and the infant in Batman’s arms is uncanny and so Constantine reached a possible conclusion alongside Dr. Fate.

 Superman just kidnapped the child of King Phantom.

…

PS: If someone out there wanting to continue or make a fic about this you are free to do so don’t forget to tag me though.

#dc #dc x dp prompt #dc x dp #superman #batman #Danny Phantom #ghost king danny #vlad plasmius #clockwork

[certified-dumbass02]

Alright yall, this is my first crack at an xreader or second person ficlet. I never actually felt the desire to read any until I saw Black Widow and fell in love at first sight with Yelena (self-explanatory). I don’t think I ever would have tried this but I was inspired by the lovely @peachbear88 and the song Clouds by Borns.

Let me know what y’all think

~*~

Clouds

Clouds

“Lena! Let’s go watch clouds!” You shout excitedly, bouncing up and down on your toes as you poke at the lump under the covers. A soft groan emanates as a blonde head pops out from her cocoon, blankets clinging to the top of her wild bed head like a nun’s habit.

Bleary green eyes squint at you as her face pinches up in an adorable yawn, and for an instant, you almost feel bad for waking her early on a weekend when she usually sleeps in. Almost.

You know Yelena, when she’s fully alert, has an active imagination that relishes its chances to run wild. Her mind works a mile a minute, and her watchful eyes catch everything with the excitement of a child and the experience of a worldly woman. It’s one of the many things you love about her. This activity is right up her alley, even if she doesn’t know it yet.

“Clouds? Is that a show?” Her accent is thicker and her voice rougher from sleep, so you grin at her and pat her head fondly as you sit on the bed next to her. She grunts, mumbles something about not being a cat, but leans into your hand as you smooth her hair down anyways.

“Not a show. It’s where you lay in the grass, look at the clouds, and try to see if you can interpret any shapes out of them.”

She frowns slightly. “Isn’t it supposed to rain today?”

“No! It’s the perfect day to go to the park. So sunny.”

A delicate blond brow quirks up, and you find yourself wondering how someone with sleep crust still in her eyes can look so devastatingly beautiful. “If it’s sunny, there won’t be clouds to watch, no?”

Yelena’s long eyelashes flutter against the back of your hand as you wipe the crust away adoringly. “Partly cloudy. But still sunny, so no rain.”

She smiles at you, soft in the light streaming through the window, and nods. “Alright, let’s go watch the clouds.”

~*~

The blanket beneath you is soft beneath your back, the sun warm on your face, and the smell of fresh cut grass fills the air as you lie in the park with Yelena, watching clouds.

As predicted, she’s taken to it like a duck to water.

“That one! That one right there!” She points excitedly, hand jutting up in the air in front of you. “It’s clearly a grenade launcher!”

You open your mouth to protest, but no sound comes at as you squint further at the cloud, because hey that actually does kind of look like that grenade launcher Yelena brought home that one time and giddily mounted on the-

“And that one is most definitely a ladybug,” she points at a different one, closer to her side.

Your face breaks into a smile. Yelena’s imagination is stretched so far to accommodate all she is and all she’s learned in her life; the way her mind works has you looking fondly at her in wonder and awe.

You recover yourself and your bearings before she notices you staring. “That one is a swan.”

She cocks her head slightly at you and frowns. “It can’t be a swan. Look at that spot of cloud up near its head - it doesn’t belong.”

“Ahh but my dear,” you tut, bopping her nose lightly as she giggles. “That spot is a trumpet for our dear bird.”

She grins in delight as she understands. “Like the Trumpet and the Swan!”

You nod at her with an answering smile and hum you agreement. Yelena had found that book on one of your bookstore adventures and had, perhaps surprisingly, adored it. Her copy is still proudly on the nightstand beside the bed at home.

After the swan cloud, the two of you continue gazing, with the suggestions becoming progressively more ridiculous as the afternoon wears on.

A juggling clown. An exact imitation of the country of Vietnam. An elephant on a unicycle. A World War 2 tank. A sickle and hammer, as you eye her with a smirk and she shoves you playfully with an exaggerated roll of her eyes.

Maybe, it is that shove that knocks your sense out of you.

Maybe it’s the way the sun glances off her golden hair and lights up her blazing green eyes. Maybe it’s the fact that her smile fills your chest with air at the same time it knocks it out of you. Or maybe, it’s because it’s been on the tip of your tongue for months now and you just don’t see the point in shutting your mouth any longer - was there ever really a point?

Whatever the reason, it comes bubbling out of you, and you open your mouth anxious and eager and praying you don’t stutter or trip over your words because you want it to be right. Yelena deserves right.

“Hmm,” you hum, looking at her from the side of your eye. “I think that one looks like my future.”

She frowns slightly, brow furrowing in confusion as she turns her head to squint at you. “What?”

You grin, feeling more confident now, because of course this is exactly what you want to be doing, who you want to be doing it with. “That one looks like my future.”

“The dark, shapeless blob is your future? Doesn’t seem very promising.” She tuts in that blunt, sarcastic way of hers.

You’re turned fully on you side now, facing her as she turns to face you, and her smart mouth has you burst out in raucous laughter, like it always does.

“You’re not even looking at the clouds! How can you say one looks like your future? What does a future even look like?!” She splutters in indignation as you start sucking in breaths in between cackles. Yelena tries to glare sternly at you, to no avail. She is a deadly, dangerous woman, but she couldn’t intimidate you if she wanted to - and she would never, ever want to.

Deciding to abandon her half-hearted glower, she proceeds to sulk cutely.

It’s this pout finally calms you, and you smile. It’s maybe the softest smile you’ve ever done, and this is definitely the softest you’ve ever been, but somehow it feels like you’ve done this before. It doesn’t feel scary, or overwhelming even if this is new to you, because it feels like you’ve loved Yelena your whole life.

“You’re right. I wasn’t looking at the clouds,” you say, letting it hang suspended in the air for a moment so you can fully relish the second it clicks for her. You see exactly when it does; her green eyes widen and her cheeks bloom a pretty, dusty pink as your smile grows impossibly larger and softer. “You. You look like my future, Yelena Belova.”

For an instant, it seems like she truly believes you - she flushes deeper than you’ve ever seen. The next instant it changes, like she wants to believe you, but a battle rages in her eyes between the faithful and the skeptical. The instant after that, she shakes her head almost imperceptibly, mouth pursing and she scoffs, laughing you off.

You see it for what it is. Her sound is dismissive, not out of apathy, but out of fear. Her eyes roll, but snap back to you, practically begging you to be sincere - to mean it, because for some ungodly reason no one else has. Cagey as she is, she will never ask for it aloud.

Yelena very carefully gives you an out; it’s as much to protect her as it is to protect you. You could join her, laugh it off as a corny joke and avoid this, probably forever, or you could stay and embrace it.

As if you could ever do anything but stay.

You reach out a hand, setting it down in the grass half the distance to her stiff, rigid body. Almost automatically, Yelena reaches out with her own, and as you twine your fingers together, you see the tension melt from her form.

“I mean it, Lena. Anytime I try to think about my future, all I see is your face over and over. It’s like I was sleepwalking before I met you, but then you woke me up,” you whisper gently, because these kinds of soul-bearing words are made for quiet, intimate murmurs, not loud, boisterous declarations. “A life without you would be no life at all.”

The blonde beauty you’ve found yourself enamored with inhales sharply, like you’ve hit her in the gut. The green eyes you associate with warmth, with laughter, with home, flicker with hope, but still, she seems conflicted.

Hoping to finally put her mind at ease, you squeeze her hand and smile again. “I love you, Yelena. I don’t want anything, or anyone, but you. I want to go wherever you go, then come home together to a closet full of pocketed vests and flannel and a whole pack of dogs. Nothing else could compare.”

Immediately, it’s like a damn breaks. She swiftly launches herself at you, burying her face in your neck and nuzzling the pulse there. If you feel wetness on your skin as she mumbles out an “I love you too,” you don’t mention it. Instead, you grip her tighter, warmth from her body and her words seeping into your bones like molasses.

You two lie there for sometime, love admissions pouring from you both like free-flowing wine. Eventually, she settles her head over your heart as you rest your chin on blonde hair.

“So what do you say, Lena? Will you be my future for forever?” You ask, running the pads of your fingers lightly over her knuckles.

She grabs your hand, kisses your palm simply. “Yes.”

You can feel the ghost of her smiling lips still on your palm, so you bring your twined hands up to your own grin and buss her wrist and the knuckles you’d mapped out earlier. “Even if it means being dragged out to watch clouds with me?”

Yelena turns then, humming in faux consideration. “The activity could grow on me in time. Not unlike you,” she pauses for a moment and then smirks devilishly. “Or a rash.”

You bark out a laugh. “Wow, comparing me to a rash? We’re off to a great start.”

You watch as green eyes roll, knowing and happily expecting to see as much for the rest of your life. “Well, you proposed by comparing me to a fat rain cloud,” she shrugs. “I think we’re even.”

“It’s not a rain cloud! It’s a perfectly normal cloud - and hey! I wasn’t even looking at that cloud, remember?”

“It absolutely is a rain cloud. You implied I was large, amorphous, and filled with liquid, liable to ruin outdoor sporting events and the days of small children by pissing all over them.”

“I so did not! And it isn’t going to rain!”

“Yes it is.”

~*~

It rained.

Smiling into your kisses with Yelena’s warm hands on your neck, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

#yelena belova #yelena x reader #yelena belova x reader #yelena x you #yelena my beloved #black widow #i tried i guess #i think I have a thing for chaotic blonde Russian assassins

[beskarberry]

Ghosts of the River Styx

Bargaining with Beskar, Chapter 8

(The Mandalorian x f!reader) (+18)

“The last embers of a fire were still smouldering under a protective lean-to, but the rest of the area had been thrown apart, with tents and bodies littering the trampled grounds, cold as the grave in the torrential downpour. The taste of bile stung at the back of your throat when you saw the size of the tiny corpses, are those… younglings?”

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Rating: Explicit

Word count: 16.4k

Content warnings: SEXY THINGS: More fluff than a bag of marshmallows, food play, power play, orgasm denial, fan favorites fingering/handjobs/p in v/ praise kink/ cream pies etc. UNSEXY THINGS: Bounty hunters doing their thing, blood n guts, near-death experiences, mentions of death, PTSD/ mentions of trauma.

A/N: I put entirely too much into this chapter, its a lot to put it plainly. Lot of backstory for reader, some good (read: terrible) scary moments between the two of them, but overall just some good old fashioned love-conquers-all for this pair of sappy badasses.

 The rain that was coming down on the forest moon of Endor was like nothing you had ever seen, drenching sheets of water flooding from the sky so hard and fast that it felt like an entire ocean had been turned over above you. You were warm and dry on the flight deck of the Razor Crest, watching the downpour through the rounded transparisteel window over a ration tin, though you knew you wouldn’t be comfortable for much longer. Your choice of stars had sent you to the wooded satellite in search of smugglers, and you were a little more excited than you probably should have been at the bounty puck’s instructions to leave no survivors; though you wondered how you would find anything in this weather.

 In your arms the foundling watched the riverettes of water streaming down the window, pointing with his little claws at the fat drops racing by between stealing bites of your dinner. His cosmic eyes blinked up at you expectantly whenever lightning crackled above, and his ears went straight up at the roar of thunder, making you laugh. “What was that, booger? Scary noise?” He chirruped and wiggled closer to your chest, torn between trying to hide from the storm and wanting to watch the light show. You rubbed his ears affectionately, trying to console the little beastie when someone else’s hand came around to join yours. Din pat his son’s fuzzy green head, leaning heavily on your shoulder while he did so, pressing kisses to the side of your face. “Well, what do you think?” you asked your partner, “Are we gonna have to put some rubber boots on and get going?”

 “Unfortunately yes. This rain’s not going to stop, and if we don’t move soon we might lose the trail.” The green terror was lifted from your lap, “You ready to go outside, womp rat?” The baby started to gibber a response, but the flash of lightning outside made him curl in a little ball against his fathers cuirass, frightened of the inevitable boom of thunder. “Sorry kid, you’re going to have to get used to that while we’re here.” Your armored companion offered you his hand to help you from your seat, and your trio got to work on preparing for a few days in the rain.

 Everything that you owned had come from Tatooine, where water had to be collected from dew in underground pits instead of falling from the sky, and nothing you had was waterproof. Your muckboots were at least partially hydrophobic, ensuring that the only thing on you that might be dry after this excursion would be your socks. Mando’s equipment wasn’t any more helpful, he had a large oilskin cloak and a couple of tarps that could be fashioned into a waterproof tent, but nothing else. You tucked the tarps into your bag while Mando tied the cloak around the child’s pram, deciding that if anyone was going be to warm and dry, it should be the foundling. In his many lockers there was a collection of cold weather clothing, heavy fur parkas and long johns, but the rain that was coming down would turn all that into dead weight, and you forwent warmth for dexterity. At the armory you picked out a good selection of blades rather than loading yourself down with extra blasters, which could get finicky in the wet weather, and steel would never let you down, rain or shine.

 Din fussed lovingly with your gear while you tried to dress yourself with the miss-matched collection of blades, lingering over each holster and sheath as if you couldn’t see clear through him. He loved watching you arm yourself to the teeth in his collection of armaments, and you knew as much as he enjoyed watching you put them on, he would have even more fun getting them off of you later. When he caught you snickering at his antics, he pulled you to him by the straps that criss-crossed your body, unable to keep his wandering hands to himself. He drew you close, allowing you to push his helmet up so he could kiss you. His kisses were hungry, as though you hadn’t spent every jump through hyperspace in each other's company on the way to your next target.

  The Mandalorian had spent so long alone, only having the company of other iron-bound warriors and the odd reluctant ally for kinship, but never knowing the feel of another’s skin against his own until you came into his life and knocked down all his walls. The feel of you against him was intoxicating, and he happily let himself get caught up in your affections every chance he got. Your lips were so soft against his, matched only by the softness of your body, and he praised your beauty and strength until your cheeks burned from his lust-laden devotion.        

 He wanted to be a good husband to you, to earn the right to be by your side every day as if that wasn’t what you already knew he would be. Not a single inch of you was spared his affections, kisses that whispered ‘cyare’  whenever his lips reached your ears and warm palms on your hips that rocked yours against his whenever you were in his arms. Though of all his touches, the one that made your heart sing the sweetest was whenever you were just near enough to each other that he could sneak his fingers in between your own, locking your hands together with a gentle squeeze.

 A new hunt was before you now, and you stole one more kiss from his lovely face before the beskar fell back down. The access ramp of the old ship fell open slowly, and the change in pressure sucked cold spray into the cabin, making a chill run through you, of course it has to be cold rain. You pulled your mask down over your eyes and tightened your cloak around yourself before marching out into the storm. The rainfall was blinding, and you jacked with your mask’s settings to get some kind of sight back. Thermal was useless, everything coming back as purples and greens in the chill. Night vision almost worked well enough, and you turned to glance back at your comrades, watching the eerie green figure sauntering up behind you with a large, jellyfish shaped blob floating along behind. Water coursed over his beskar and down his many plates, pooling in the indents of his pauldrons and the ridges of his chest piece; giving him a ghastly, wraith-like appearance. You were thankful that the foundling was up off the ground, you, on the other hand, were sinking into the mud with each laboured step. You yelled to your beloved spectre, but your voice was whisked away by the falling rain, making your heart sink with the realization that you could be cut off from him and the child if you lost visual on your crew.

 The forests of Endor were renowned throughout the galaxy, not for their hurricaine-like rainstorms, but for the colossal trees that grew like living skyscrapers, clustered together so densely that they would have blot out the sun if it was shining. You couldn’t tell if it was day or night under the sprawling branches, between their thick canopies and the harrowing rain, it was darker than a sarlacc’s backside on the forest floor. The sound of water roaring through the tree branches and the sound of your own breathing echoing in your audio processors made the world somehow seem sprawling and also very, very crowded. Your lungs were already becoming strained with the chore of plowing through the mud and climbing over the serpentine roots of the gargantuan foliage, the strain of your muscles becoming your only source of heat.

 Your crew plodded along through the rain and mud, following the slow, lazy blink of the fob on Mando’s belt; and you shivered with the cold that was sinking into your bones. The weight of your drenched clothing was starting to become a burden, and you pulled your cloak around to attempt to wring the water from it, but it was quickly resaturated as the rain bore down on you and soaked you through. You craved the warmth of conversation, or even the heat of your mate’s body, but the storm drowned out any sound you would have made. As if he could feel your loneliness, Din reached for your hand, giving it a reassuring, soggy squeeze that gave you just enough of an ember of warmth to keep you going.

 You hiked for hours, and it wasn’t until you were shaking from the cold damp that you noticed the speed of the fobs blinker, it was quicker; indicating that you were getting close. After another hour or so through the sleeting downpour, the flashes of the fob were speeding as fast as your racing heart, the thrill of the hunt spurring you through the timberlands. Between the mammoth trunks you caught something in your visor, a lighter color against the dark grey-greens of the trees, and you flipped your senors back to thermal detection. Ahead, flicking faintly between the now blue and purple of the ice cold foliage, was a tiny spec of red. Fire. You pulled a blade from your belt and knocked the pommel against your beskar, the high pitched ringing getting Mando’s attention for you to signal what you saw, pointing at your eyes then at the target. He signaled back to you, indicating that you would flank the location on either side, and you nodded before vanishing alone into the dark.

 The rough-barked skyscrapers provided almost too much coverage as you approached the scene, making it difficult to get a visual on the campsite. Between each living obelisk, you slinked your way closer, catching snippets of the area between the wooden walls, trying to piece the scene together in your mind; and an uneasy feeling began to creep it’s way under the cold of your skin. Something was wrong, though you couldn’t be sure why until you were almost on top of the ruined campsite. The last embers of a fire were still smouldering under a protective lean-to, but the rest of the area had been thrown apart, with tents and bodies littering the trampled grounds, cold as the grave in the torrential downpour. The taste of bile stung at the back of your throat when you saw the size of the tiny corpses, are those… younglings?  

 You drew your knives on reflex like a nexu puffs its barbs at the approaching body coming through the mist, sheathing them quickly when you realized it was your Mandalorian. He bent down to inspect the bodies in the mud, turning a child-sized corpse over and revealing its wounds. Up close you you could tell it wasn’t human, it looked like some kind of two-legged bear, wearing a little cloth hood around its furry head. You’d never seen anything like it before, it had a snubbed face and little gapped teeth, and in life it was probably pretty cute. The other bodies nearby all had the same gaping blast holes in their chest, and whatever had made these kills, it had to be big.  

The remains of the campfire cast uneasy shadows around the already oppressive darkness, and in the faded light you could just barely make out the edges of tracks in the mud. Large, rectangular indents sank deep in the waterlogged soil, and your guts flopped grossly when you realized what their source had to be: Imp Walker. Both of your visors locked on the widely spaced tracks, and even through the pouring rain you could see him clench his fists. You started to say something when movement caught the corner of your eye through the sheets of rain, and you snapped on where you thought the threat might be; but there was nothing there. You cycled your sensors, trying to pick anything up on your visor, but the kaleidoscope told you nothing of value; maybe you were imagining things.

 Rustling from the nearby bushes confirmed your sanity, and you lept back towards your crewmates with blades drawn, ready to defend them from the incoming assailants. Your oathsworn pushed you behind him on instinct, doing his human shield routine while you tried to do yours, and if you weren’t in immediate danger the situation would have been hilarious. You raised your vibros, sending fans of spray arching off of your pulsating blades, ready to tackle whatever tried to hurt your foundling or your husband. The surge of adrenaline warmed your insides and stoked your fire until it was burning at your eyes; but the squat creature that wobbled out from the bushes had you almost dropping your weapons with how fucking cute it was. What the actual fuck is that?  

 A living version of the casualties around you emerged from the underbrush wearing an adorable little coat and brandishing the tiniest spear ever, and when it was close enough to you it only came up to your waist. Its scruffy, soggy face made some kind of muffled roar noise while it pointed the stone spearhead at you, but it only made the damn thing look more cute instead of intimidating, and you lowered your blades back to their sheaths to address the beastie. Several more of the delightfully stubby creatures materialized from the sleeting shadows, and as cuddly-looking as they were, you felt sweat break out under your mask with the realization that they had you surrounded.

 You heard something behind you, a rattling and thumping that got your attention, and you turned to see Mando doing something with his hands.      Sign language?    Your BSL was rusty, but you were able to pick up a few words including ‘hunters’ and ‘danger’. The toddler-sized teddy bear threw its furry arms around quickly, throwing water everywhere in its response. ‘Bad men’, ‘friends’, ‘stolen’. Stolen? You glanced over at the ruins of the campsite again, and between the waterlogged bodies you caught the glint of chains sinking in the mud, putting the puzzle together in your mind. Your bounty puck didn’t specify what your target was smuggling, but by the urgent sounds of the ursine creature, you guessed that they had been smuggling live animals, and whatever had decimated the camp had taken their ill-begotten quarries along with them.

 Mando signed at you, but you only shrugged at his flurried hands. He went slower, and you picked the word ‘help’ out of all of his gestures. You nodded, and he signed back at the bears with the same phrase. The mysterious collection of soggy beasts melded back into the darkness of the forest; disappearing from view and leaving you with your packmate. Alone again, you pointed at the machine tracks, signaling your intent to follow them to their source. Mando nodded, taking a moment to check on the foundling that hovered along at his side before joining you at the trail. Cycling your visor again, you looked for the strange bear people you had just met, but your sensors picked nothing up in the pouring rain, where’d they go?  

 Like a pair of mist-wraiths you stalked your prey, following the deep indents of the machine that had ruined the smaller trees and shrubs that it had passed through, leaving a fearsome wake of broken branches and fallen leaves. Torrential rain filled the indents like so many small pools, threatening to wash even the deepest set tracks away, and you hurried to follow them before they were lost to the muck.

 You felt the tremors of lumbering, mechanized steps through the soles of your boots long before you heard the Walker, the thunder of heavy equipment eventually making its way over the sound of the storm. You ran side by side with your Mandalorian through the mud, gliding like ghosts as you zeroed in on the prize, only splitting up to flank the repurposed Walker and its entourage when the blink of the bounty fob went nearly solid. Target acquired.  

  Under the towering robotic biped, a collection of boarish looking poachers trudged along beneath the behemoth, dragging loaded cages behind them on hoverskiffs while they kept pace with the towering tank. Its crisp titanium white had been stained and striped over by years out in the weather, and its rusty joints creaked with every stride. You weren’t sure if you were pleased or      pissed     that the collection of raiders accompanying the hulking machination were very-much not Imps, but that begged the question: where the hell did they find that thing?    

  Even through the drenching rain you could see more of the bear people in the tiny cages, clinging to the bars of their confines; the sad sight making your heart drop and your blood boil. The collection of raiders would be the easy part, but the AT-ST could blast you to smithereens if it caught you in its sights, so it would need to be taken out first; or at least distracted. The best way to do that was from inside, and the only way in was through the eye sockets of the durasteel beast.

 You kept pace with the poachers, slinking silently through the shadows while you formulated a plan. The rain had put a serious damper on your communication abilities, and you wished you had been able to talk with Din      verbally    before taking on such a challenge. A slew of poorly fabricated plans sped through your mind before something plinked off of your mask, like a pebble hitting a window, and you took your eyes off the rag-tag raiders to squint upwards into the pouring rain. Another nut hit you square on your armored nose, and you flipped your sensor settings until a gaggle of warm splotches appeared in the trees above you. There they are! Scurrying through the sprawling branches, the wildlings were traversing bridges and platforms built high in the trees, running over top of you with ease compared to your laboured muck trudging.

 A rope ladder was thrown to you, and you clambered up the narrowly spaced rungs until you were high up on the platform with the wooly creatures, who signed furiously at you, making you shrug. Sorry, I don’t speak munchkin.The smugglers were getting away from you, and you sped along the rickety wooden parapets, pushing the bears aside to get closer. At this height you were above eye level with the Walker, and you scanned ahead along the platforms to where a bridge was going over the iron giant’s path. If you could get to the bridge before the Walker passed underneath, you would be able to get the jump on the monstrosity.

 You flew to make your target, shaking water down with each step that blended right into the still-pouring rain and hid your approach. Down below across the muddy path you caught the glint of beskar between the dark foliage, a quick flash, but unmistakable. Through the wooded underbrush he ghosted like quicksilver, and though he was no stranger to you, you felt a sickening curdle run up your spine at the reminder of his ferocity. The armored bounty hunter was a living weapon, and you felt your heart skip a beat at the sight of him in his natural element. These poor bastards don’t stand a chance.     The blood in your veins burned like acid when you saw him draw his rifle, signaling the start of the attack. Visor contact was made between you and your oathsworn, nodding in succession: Three… two… go!  

 The Mandalorian sprang from the darkness like a phantom, torrents of water streaming off of his silver as he clocked the nearest man with the butt of his rifle. You flew into action high above the vengeful poltergeist, launching yourself off of the bridge and onto the slippery roof of the Walker. With the security detail distracted by vicious beskar below, you were able to swing into the eyehole of the Walker unchallenged, howling like a banshee while you drew your blades. The vibros sang their wicked song as you sliced with abandon, carving a bloody path through the interior of the leviathan. Vorpal blades went snicker-snack through the guts of your first target, then cried steel tears when you blocked a swinging vibro-axe, kicking your mud soaked boots at the shins of your assailant until they keeled over, revealing the soft spot of their neck to your iron bite.

  Twang! Twang twang! Blaster shots ricocheted off your armored face, bouncing around the cabin as you pounced on the last man, knocking his blaster away with one singing blade and sinking into his chest with the other. Surrounded by your kills, you grabbed at the steering controls, veering the durasteel behemoth through the infantrymen still on the ground; cackling like a madwoman at the crunch under your metal feet. Below you, Mando dived to avoid your enormous steps, rolling away into the safety of the underbrush where he wouldn’t get crushed by your bloodthirsty dance. You bore down on the steering trigger, firing the main turret in a wild spray that did more damage to the surrounding woods than to the ants crawling at your feet.

 The Walker responded poorly to you hauling on the controls, teetering around on its big chicken legs like a drunk until the hydraulic pinions became crossed and you were riding the thing to the ground; narrowly avoiding the prisoner skiff as you fell. You were thrown against the wall when the legged tank hit the mud, along with the bloodsoaked bodies of your victims, smothering you with their dead weight. The fallen assault vehicle tilted sideways as it slid face first into a waterlogged ditch, and the cabin began to fill with swampy, silt-laden water. Kicking and thrashing at the corpses, you struggled to get free as water and muck began to seep into the cabin, threatening to drown you in a grave filled with your own kills.

 Outside in the storm, the remaining poachers met a quick death between Mando’s armored fists and the end of his blaster, soaking the already oversaturated soil with their blood. The beskar fiend claimed the last of the smuggler’s souls before he bound over to the fallen Walker that had you trapped inside, and the thud thud thud of his boots kicking at the stubborn hatch bar resonated in the cabin until he loosened it enough to turn the release wheel. Rain drenched your face as the door opened high above your head, just out of reach of the yellow gloves that were grasping for you. You tried to jump, to climb up the overturned floor to get closer, even launching off of the pile of corpses didn’t put you close enough for your companion’s reach. If you waited long enough, you might be able to swim to the door, if the mud didn’t suck you under first.

-fwip!- SNAP! The familiar grapple shot out from his vambrace and tangled around your outstretched arm, hauling you up painfully by your wrist until you were close enough for him to grab, and you let him scoop you out of the sinking tank and into the heavy rain. You both slipped down the wet durasteel and over the twisted legs of the beast until you were up on the muddy path, slogging through the dredged up sediment as best you could until you were at the loaded hoversled. Aboard, the frantic bear creatures whooped and hollered, looking like a pack of excited mops with their rain soaked fur.

 Your vibroblades screeched against the bars of the cage, making your ears ring, and you stuffed the singing daggers back to your belt. Drawing your blaster, you waved the little creature away from the cage door, shooting at the lock until it blew apart. Behind you, Mando did the same, signing at the sentient animal to cover their face before he blasted the confines apart. All the captives were freed in short order, and you helped them down into the mud one at a time. They scuttled away from you into the open arms of their tribemates that were waiting for them beneath the trees.

 Soft, soggy bear paws patted your knees when you reached the welcoming party, and you guessed that was their way of saying ‘thank you’. At your side, your armored companion was signing quickly at the first bear you had met, who signed rapidly back at him between garbled roars. Through your rainstreaked visor you saw him beckon to you, and you cupped your hands around your ears in an attempt to hear him yelling through the unrelenting downpour.

 “Go...camp...shelter!?” You nodded enthusiastically at the few words you caught, the idea of getting out of the ice cold rain was enough for you to agree to, and you ran back over to the battlefield to where you had squashed the poachers beneath the boots of the iron giant. There was no way you would get the ruined corpses into carbonite, so you would have to consign yourself to bringing back a trophy in lieu of bodies to collect your credits with. With a fury you carved away at a busted skull until you were able to pull one of the boarish tusks; hoping that it would have enough of a biosig to register on a code reader. When you rose back up from your butchery, you caught the black hole glare of the Mandalorian’s visor, watching you intently over the heads of the wildings that surrounded him. The two of you must make such a sight, you thought to yourself, an armored ghost and a bloodsoaked banshee.  

  You sauntered through the mud up to your man, letting the rain that fell wash the gore off your gloves. He pulled the fob from his belt, the light flashing rapidly when he touched it to the bloody tusk until it went solid, indicating a successful chain code link. That’ll work! You could tell by the tilt of his helmet that he had watched you take your trophy, and knowing how much he loved your ferocity you guessed he was flashing you those sharp canines of his behind the beskar. Taking a clean blade from your belt, you dragged the tip of the knife up the plate of his chest until you were tapping it against the edge of his helmet, a gentle reminder that you didn’t fuck around. The show of prowess had him grabbing at your waist, groping at your waterlogged sides til you were pressing your body against his frigid armor.

  The pat pat pat of paws on your leg again startled you back to reality, and you cocked your head down at the wildlings that were trying to get you to follow them back to camp. Your riduur pulled away from you to fuss with his buttons, summoning the cloaked jellyfish to float out from behind the trees, and you dashed over to check on the state of your foundling. Inside the hoverpram he sat like a little sultan, still warm and dry, though he was covering his ears to try and save himself from the roar of the rain. Poor little guy! That’s gotta be so loud in there! He squeeked as though he could read your mind, tugging on his sail-like ears with the saddest face you’d ever seen.

 The bear people guided your party through the inky woods, seemingly uninhibited by the slithering roots underfoot as they bound through the dark. Something thundered over the sound of the storm, a low, continuous rumble that got louder as you followed the warm splotches in your thermal sights. You soon came to a furiously raging river, its banks swollen almost to the breaking point with the floodwaters, and the white-capped rapids nipped at the underside of a narrow bridge that ran over top. The short, woolly bipeds scuttled over the swaying bridge, and you waited for the lightweight creatures to cross the sprawling length before you took your first step.

 The soaked boards squeaked underfoot with a threatening creak, making adrenaline surge coldly through your veins at the prospect of being lost to the raging waters below. You could tell that Mando had drawn the same conclusion, and ushered you ahead of him, the foundlings crib floating to your side. You grabbed at the baby buggy, opting to push the floating pram ahead of yourself, determined to make sure the foundling made it to the other side even if you  didn’t.

 You hopped back and forth, trying to sow some courage into your legs without thinking about the raging waters you were about to challenge, locking eyes with the wildings far across from you so you wouldn’t look down. Don’t look down, whatever you do, don’t look down. You took a deep breath, letting your lungs fill with the icy spray of the galewinds before legging it at full speed over the swinging bridge.

 Only when the sound of mud squelched underfoot did you stop, throwing your arms up in a silent victory cheer at your success. Far behind you the faint grey smear of your husband barely contrasted around the grey smears falling from the sky, but the glint of his visor reflected back at you as he started over the bridge. Even over the churning waves you heard the creaking of the boards with his heavily armored steps, and you willed him to hurry up in your mind. The black hole slowly got closer, inching its way to you, then the -crack! of wood breaking and the glint of his helmet falling below eye level made your guts turn over with fear.

  Fuck! He’s broken through! You tore back over the soggy bridge, deaf to the protesting whines of the wet suspensions until you were to him. He was stuck to his chest, the wide ridge of his breastplate having caught on the wood that still supported him while he clawed at the slippery boards. You dove to hook your arms under his shoulders, digging your heels into the flimsy planks in an attempt to lift him from the splintered hole. He latched onto you, trying his best to help with your efforts until you got him up high enough that he was able to get a knee out of the breach, and promptly broke the board under your combined weight, dropping you both into the cascades below.

 Everything went dark as the river swallowed you alive, and the cold of the icy depths made your flesh burn, but not as much as your lungs were burning as you fought for air. You broke the surface, only to be pulled right back down into the inky blackness of the raging river that was carrying you away. Something coiled around your waist, and in your drowning panic you flailed and punched at what you imagined was a serpent, but the muffled clang of ironsong rang wet and ugly in your flooded half-bucket.

  Din! The weight of his armor was pulling him down, and though he was probably at a higher risk of drowning than you were, he was still trying to keep you above the water while he thrashed beside you. Locked together, you spiraled through the swells, the pair of you being thrown through the darkness of the raging river like toy boats in a hurricane, the ravenous waves promising to drown you if you weren’t dashed to pieces by the rapids themselves.

 Sunk below the waves you heard the hiss of the imaginary snake in your ear, and you were jerked against the flow of the tide by something halting your course downstream. Something wrapped around your waist, tight and constricting and threatening to slice you in half like a wire as it coiled under your ribs. You couldn’t see anything out of your visor, and you squinted through the rain streaked glass and crashing waves at the silvery line going up from below the swells into the branches overhead.

 Sputtering and gasping for air, you clawed at the line, wrapping your arms around the armored body that was still under the waves. You coiled around your partner, desperate to keep Din’s body against yours while you waited for the line to pull you to safety, thrashing against the waves like a fish on a hook. The rapids smashed into you again and again until you groped blindly for the winching mechanism on Din’s arm; wondering why he hadn’t hoisted you out of the water yet. His grip on your waist was starting to loosen, held to you only by the grapple’s snare, and you smashed at the button panel of his wrist until the line went taut and you were both pulled against the raging tides toward the branches overhead.

 Hanging over the roaring waters by the line tangled around your body, you could see the brown smear where the river bank should be. Tightening your guts, you started to swing the pair of you over the water like an oversized pendulum until you were launched at the muddy shores, crashing unceremoniously into the muck. Nearly coughing up a lung, you gasped for air on the sodden ground, shaking the water from yourself in a futile act of defiance against the raging storm. Beside you, the dark form of your partner was motionless, and you rolled him over until he was face up. Water drained slowly from the underside of his flooded helmet, and your blood ran cold with the realization that there was nowhere else for it to go except into his lungs.

 “Fucking bucket!” You screamed against the raging gale, grabbing at your waterlogged cloak to throw over the two of you, trying to protect not only his body but also his creed as you dug your fingers under the edge of the armor. You hunted for the latches that kept the damn thing locked to his face until you were able to yank the fucker off; sending a flood of entirely-too-much water gushing out over your hands. It was dark as the void underneath the impromptu cover, and you flipped through your visor options around til you got to thermal, and choked at the cold violet hue of your husband’s face.

  “Oh no you fucking don’t!” Rising to your knees, you locked your palms together and pumped against where his sternum was hidden by his cuirass. “Get… back… here… you… fuckin… ass… hole!” You roared between chest compressions, only stopping your fervent tempo to toss your mask off and pinch his nose closed; tilting his head back to breathe what you hoped was life-giving air into his mouth. “Don’t… make… me… come… in… there… after… you!” You breathed into him again, fighting the urge to break down from the terror of losing him. “You’ve… gotta… take… care… of… me!” Still you pumped, the salt of tears on your lips as you pressed your mouth to his frigid face. “Take… care… of… our… FOUNDLING!”  

  “HuuahAHCH!! ACH! *cough! coUGH COUGH!*” Brackish water spewed violently from his mouth between broken gasps for air, his arms flailing until his hands tangled in the soaked fabric of your clothes. He sputtered in your arms, desperate to fill his lungs with oxygen while you rolled him over on his side, letting the water flow out of him more freely.

 “Din! Oh fuck thank the motherfucking Maker! You’re alright! Just breathe!      Breathe!” Cradling his head in your frozen fingers, you tried to soothe him by brushing the water from his hair, but maybe it was to comfort yourself even more. He heaved in your hands, coughing up lungfuls of water until he could start putting words together.  

 “Cy- *cough!* Cyare?” You nodded, but in the dark of the cloak he probably couldn’t see you, so you bent to kiss his chilled face, hoping that you could usher some warmth into his veins.

 “I’m here! I’m here, my love, It’s ok. You’re ok!”

 “I’m...I’m so- *cough!* I’m so sorry…”

 “You should be, you bigass fuckin’ rustbucket.” You were unable to refrain from giving him hell, trying to use your venomous tongue to hide the tears that choked your words and threatened to leave you weeping at his side. “You swore an oath to me, mister, and you think that going for a little swim is going to get you out of it? I don’t think so.” His heavy head rested on your knee, and you could feel tremors coursing through his body in quick bursts. You rocked with him between your hands, pressing more kisses to his damp face and stroking his wet curls. “You’re stuck with me, bucket boy, no ifs, ands, or buts.”

 “F-foundling? Where?”

  Shit, good question. The last you had seen the child’s pram was when you’d booked it over the rickety bridge, and you had left it with the other alien toddlers before rushing to save your man. “I can only handle one of you boys at a time, we’ll find him as soon as I know you’re good.” The hands that were clinging to you started to push against your chest, and you grabbed him before he could haul himself up. “Oh no you don’t. Not til I say so, damnit!”

“Gotta… g-gotta get...get the child.” He squirmed weakly against you, a far cry from the muscle and sinew you knew he was made out of. “Our...our baby...”

 “He’s probably fine, those bear thingies are probably running for their lives from that little terror, he can handle himself. Believe me, I know.” Din had gotten one arm under himself and was trying to prop himself up, and you wrapped your arms around him to guide him into a seated position, letting him lean heavily against you. “Take it slow. We’ll go get him soon enough, but I gotta make sure you’re good first, alright?” You felt the cloak blanket wiggle with his nod, and you kissed his face in the dark to thank him for following your wishes.

 Over the sound of the pelting rain you caught the slosh of many quick footsteps, followed by chittering and growling noises, and you grabbed at your belt for a dagger to defend yourself with; but Din pushed at your hands until you lowered the humming blade. With strengthless arms he pulled his helmet back over his head, allowing you to lift the shelter’s edge high enough to see the big, curious eyes of one of the bear people staring at you. More appeared behind the first, and many damp paws were reaching into your space, trying to help the two of you up out of the mud.

  You breathed a mighty sigh of relief when a gaggle of them came into view, tugging the floating pram with them. The foundling had managed to push the edge of the oilskin back over the top of his crib, and though he was now sitting in his own private swimming pool, he looked overjoyed to be back with his buir. Since he was already drenched, you lifted him from the bucket and into both your arms, and the tiny beastie chirped away between you.

 “Booger! You’re alright! See, Mando? Told ya so.” Your husband only groaned, pushing his helmet against your unarmored forehead as best he could. You let the foundling out of your arms and into Din’s just long enough so that you could reach down and pull your own beskar out of the muck, giving it a couple of good shakes before setting the dirty thing back on your face. The grit of the riverbank soil felt horrible on your skin, but like hell you were going near that raging torrent to clean it off. With all three of you soaked to the core and covered in mud, you pressed your shoulder up underneath Din’s arm, demanding that he lean his weight on you while you followed the munchkins back to their camp.

 Through the howling rain you heard a new sound, a low, deep blare like a klaxon, but the notes changed in between pitches; and you realized what you were hearing was some kind of music. Firelight peeked out from under the edge of a structure that was in no way naturally formed, the darkness of rusted durasteel absorbing any light that tried to illuminate the surrounding dark. When you got closer you felt your chest clench at the sight: it wasn’t a building, it was a ship, left abandoned to sink into the muck in one of the few clearings between the trees. The star cruiser was now awash with tangled overgrowth, saplings and ferns growing around it as it was slowly being claimed by the forest of Endor.

 The bear people led you into the wreckage, and you breathed a mighty sigh of relief when you were finally out of the rain. Handmade structures littered the interior, built from wood and pelts that were cobbled together into a miniature city inhabited by the cutest creatures the galaxy had to offer; next to your foundling, of course.

 In the center of a ruined mess hall, a massive bonfire had been lit, and the wildlings were spinning and cheering around the pyre to the sound of bone horns; celebrating the return of their captured kin. The folkish music echoed joyously in the open space until it was reverberating in your very core, shaking the icicles from your bones. The rescued creatures ran circles around you, splashing you with their wet fur as they cheered your party on. If you had the energy, you would have laughed at the even tinier wildling cubs that scurried to you, how could these things get any cuter? You set the foundling down, ushering him to go make friends while you dealt with your meat popsicle.

 When you were close enough to the roaring flame, you dropped the two of you onto the loam covered floor, falling on your waterlogged backsides beside the blessed heat. Your stuffed sinuses finally drained, and you could smell something wonderful cooking nearby. You waved at the attending munchkins that had brought you here, rubbing your belly in an attempt to communicate your wishes. Thankfully, they understood your bogus sign language, and a bowl of steaming hot something-or-other was pushed into your outstretched hands. The spicy broth cooked you from the inside out, and you felt your cheeks go rosey at the delightful burn that trickled down your throat. After taking another generous chug of the delicious soup, you turned to Din, trying to push the bowl into his feeble hands; but their tremors threatened to spill it on himself instead of into his mouth.

 “Tilt your helmet back.”

 “I’m fine.”

 “This is not up for debate, tilt your fucking helmet back or I’ll do it for you.” You rolled onto your knees until you were nearly on top of him, blocking any eyes that might catch a glimpse of the secrets that only your clan was privileged to. His hands fumbled at the side of his beskar, and you took it upon yourself to lift it for him, carefully tilting the drink to his lips. He coughed at the peppery tang of it, and you waited patiently until he nodded for more, holding on to the undersides of your hands with his own. When he drank what you determined was his fill, you set the steaming mug at your side and let the armor fall back into place. His iron body was still shaking, the heat of the fireside not strong enough to penetrate his many layers. “Sweetheart, your armor’s gonna have to come off, you gotta get warm.”

 “No.”

 “No? If I don’t get you out of there you’re going to get sick, is that what you want? To get sick?”

 He sighed, letting his heavy bucket fall forward. “No...”

“Good.” You began the arduous labour of stripping him down, shooing away the wildlings that kept trying to help with their soggy bear paws. Diligently you peeled the layers off, disheartened at the water that gushed out from each lifted plate, fuck, no wonder he was so heavy. Beskar at your side, you started on the flack jacket, making sure that it was kept the closest of all his gear with its precious secrets. “Arms up.” Suspenders fell at his side, and you pulled the sopping wet undershirt off of him, tossing it aside with a splat and leaving him sitting in his trousers. His skin was clammy and damp, cold as ice under your fingers that sent fresh chills to your spine. All you had to offer was one of the tarps that were in your bag as coverage, and you threw the crinkly thing over him and crawled underneath to start working off your own soaked layers next to your oathsworn.

 Getting your clothing off was almost more difficult than getting Din’s peeled away, the drenched fabric making it nearly impossible to lift your tired arms. Tangled in the heavy garb, you struggled to pull yourself free when you felt chilly fingers digging in after you, the zesty broth having worked some strength back into the mighty warrior's muscles. You smiled at his glossy visor when you were out of your tunic, wishing you could see his lovely eyes instead, but you were happy enough that he was moving again. You kissed at his armored face, then started to collect the scattered clothing to find somewhere to hang them up to dry. The wildlings gawked at you, but you guessed that they were more concerned with your change in appearance than your actual partial nudity.

 With your gear drying by the fire, you sat back down next to where your man was sipping at the mug on his own, and you squished yourself up against his side, trying to foster some body heat between you. He rumbled at your touch, knocking you almost too hard against the side of your unarmored noggin with his helmet. With the tarp wrapped around the two of you like a blanket, you watched the fuzzy creatures that tropsed past you, giggling at their antics. A couple of the bear people came up to you with baskets of fruit in their paws, pushing them toward you with more trilling growls that you could almost imagine as words.

 You tapped your fingers to the bottom of your chin, then gestured outwards without turning your palm, signing ‘thank you’  to your furry hosts. They chittered at you before going to fetch more baskets of goodies for you to take until you were surrounded by stacks of produce that you would never be able to finish; and you guessed that something had been lost in translation. Laughing, you tried to get them to take some of it back, but they growled at you and bared their teeth, so you sat like a pair of forest deities as the pile of offerings stacked around you grew higher.

 Eventually one of them carried the foundling back to you, the stout creature struggling to hold your tubby buddy, followed by a parade of bear cubs that almost had you in fits. “Heya booger, did you make some friends?” He squeaked and wiggled in the wildlings arms until it let him go, and he tottered toward you on his stubby legs, tripping over the many baskets until you had him in your lap. “There’s my guy. Look, papa’s here too.”

 Battle-scarred arms took the child from you, coiling around the alien baby like a living castle, rocking him softly side to side while he rubbed his child’s ears. The heartwarming moment was somewhat interrupted by a snub nosed cub trying to crawl into your lap, looking up at you expectantly with their wondrous eyes and making grabby paws at you for uppies. You tutted at the creature, “If y’all don’t stop being so cute, we’re going to end up adopting you as well.” Two more clambered onto you, sitting on your knees while they started digging through the many baskets at your sides, and you were more than happy to share with them. Sneaking one of the baskets up over their furry heads, you nudged at Din’s side, trying to offer some to him and his son. He turned the foundling around, and the little devil gleefully dug into the harvest, stuffing his itty bitty mouth full.

 “Mando? You want some?” He shook his head, though he should have learned by now you weren’t actually asking. “You gotta eat, get your strength back.” After some silence, he nodded, and started to dig through the bucket of fruit. Between trying to pick out the berries, holding the foundling, and lifting his helmet up to eat, he was nearly dumping everything all at once, and you swatted at his fumbling hands. “Fucksake, let me help you.” Grabbing a handful, you picked a small berry out and pushed it up under the edge of his helmet; knowing that there was just enough space between the metal and the man for a finger or two.

 He flinched at the intrusion, but you felt the fruit pass over his covered lips and away, and you  waited for him to swallow it before fishing for another. You gently guided another berry up into the cold dark of his armor, brushing past his scruffy chin as you withdrew. "More?" You asked, and he nodded softly. You plucked another treat from the basket, but when you pressed the sweet up to his hidden mouth you jumped at the feel of his tongue flickering over your fingertips, the smooth muscle sending tendrils of heat up your arms. You cocked him a sideways glare, and the tilt of his visor flashed with the reflection of the fire.

 "Can I have another, please?" His voice was groggy with the dampness still settled in his lungs, but the gentleness of his request was too sweet to deny. You went for a juicier fruit this time, and again he lapped at your fingers, a soft hum breezing out of his modulator as he cleaned the nectar from your hand. Once more you fed him, doing your damnedest to keep a straight face when he sucked your digits into his hot mouth, nipping at your tips just enough to make your insides clench around nothing. Stars above.

 "Thank you, mesh'la." He purred when he released you, and you tried to distract yourself by wiping the berry juice from the foundling's face, ignoring the heat pooling in your belly that wasn't from the soup. The baby cooed at you from his father’s knee, then pointed at the cubs that were still clustered around you, gibbering excitedly. Din lifted the baby up in front of himself so that the child would be at eye level with his visor. “What’s that, womp rat? You- *cough!* You want to go see your friends? Alright, but mind your manners.” He set the baby down so that he could scurry away, and the collection of tiny wildlings went galumphing after him. With just the two of you under the tarp now, you watched as your half-naked companion reached for another one of the baskets, this one loaded full of bright purple plums. “Would you like one, cyare?”  

 He selected one with a soft, colorful rind, holding it up for you to taste, and you leaned forward to accept his offering. The succulent treat was pushed to your lips, and you sank your teeth into its flesh, trying, and failing, to keep the juice from running down your chin. The tilted visor watched you with its fiery gaze, and you imagined his soulful eyes tracking the droplets on your face. The pad of his thumb caressed at your mouth, and you let him push the stray juice to your lips, licking at him playfully. Again he brought the fruit up for you to take another bite, and you sucked at the pinkish flesh almost too noisily to be anything other than flirtatious. Din held the plum to you for as long as it took for you to finish it, careful not to let you swallow the stone at its center. When the fruit was finished, he tossed the pit aside and ran his thumbs over your lips with a gentle touch.

 “I want another one.” You said, kissing at his hands, and immediately another plum materialized in front of you. You bit into the fruit, not even bothering to stop the juice that ran down your face and onto your bare breasts, amazed that you were so brazenly flirting with each other in the dead center of the wildling community; but the creatures paid you no mind, busy with their own grooming and eating to care about the strange human activities. Din pulled the plum away from you before you could finish eating it, instead opting to tear off a small chunk. You held your mouth open, sticking your tongue out for him to place the fruit on, but the treat wasn’t the only thing that made its way past your lips. The pad of his thumb brushed over the edges of your teeth while you balanced the piece in your mouth, cupping your chin with his fingers so he could circle your lips. You swallowed the fruit, lapping at his thumb while you sucked it down, and the low rumble he made was heavenly. “Do you wanna try one?”

 “I don’t think that will fit under my helmet, cyare.”  

 “Well then,” You ran your hands over his arms until you were dragging your fingers down his chest, relieved to feel that his skin was warm to the touch. Phew. “Why don’t we go somewhere that you can take that thing off, hmm?” He glanced around the sprawling room, and though there were plenty of wildling homes, none of them would be big enough for a human, let alone two. Noticing the way he scoped the area, you rose to your feet, pulling the edge of the tarp closer around his shoulders. “You stay here, I’ll go find us somewhere private, ok?” He nodded, catching your hand before you got too far away and pulling your knuckles to tap against his brow. I love you, too.  

 You pulled a stick from the blaze to light your way, leaving your visor by the fire to dry, and delved into the darker reaches of the fallen craft. Starships were once your home, long before the Razor Crest there were the Corellian-built cruisers that you had grown up on, and this one was no different. Though its walls were creeping with vines and its power source had long died out, the layout was familiar enough for you to make your way through the ruined hold. Skirting around the many ursine dwellings, you walked down a long corridor, poking your head through the half-open doors.

     Med bay, galley, Walker bay -oh- officers quarters, captains quarters…  

 Towards the bow of the ship was a closed door, and you knew from your history that this had to be the bridge. The other rooms had been messed pretty badly by the bear people, but it looked to you like they hadn’t been able to get through the blast shielding of the flight deck. You set your torch upright and got to work on the panel in the corner, even without power you could get the bulkhead open if you could pop the locking mechanism manually.

 When you were just a scamp, freshly plucked from Corellia's sickly shores, you had tried to make yourself useful by getting into small spaces; though more often than not it just got you into trouble. Bilgerat they had called you, a common nickname for stowaways. Vent and duct work was where you’d cut your teeth, but as you grew and your fingers became more agile you were given tasks around the rest of the ship, gruntwork to keep a teenager busy; but those small odds and ends made you a jack of all trades and an asset to any crew. It wasn’t until your wagging tongue and listless singing caught the ears of your superiors were you given a real job. A title. A name.

Taking a blade from your belt, you carefully unscrewed the durasteel cover and started picking away at the gunk that had built up over time. You could hear the chief of engineering nagging at you in the back of your head, ‘Ya can’t shout a door open, no matter ‘ow much ya point that vile tongue a’yers at it, ya gots’ta use somethin’ sharp.’ Let’s see… move this here, get my blade right under… there! The CLANG of the safety lock echoed ominously down the empty hallway, and you held your breath as you waited for the curious beasties to come investigate.

 No soft footsteps echoed back to you, so you started prying the door open, fighting against the overgrowth until you had a hole big enough to slip through. Holding the fading firelight aloft, you checked your surroundings,and were pleasantly surprised at the state of the wide, triangular space. The years had been kinder to it than the rest of the ship, and though it was cluttered with dried leaves it could still almost be considered clean. You held the firelight aloft as you padded carefully through the once-proud space, the sound your footsteps silent against the roar of the storm.

 Above you the rain pelted against a sloping transparisteel window, though you could hear the weather raging away more than you could actually see it. Something besides the cold air gave you chills, and you squinted into the dark, almost chucking your torch when you caught the glint of white armor. Still seated in the captain's chair was the captain himself, and though his withered husk was no longer a threat, you still fished a blade from your thigh holsters before you got closer. The tarnished white of his duraplast and the flash of his lipless grin made your flesh crawl, and the urge to light him up like a papery firework became almost overwhelming.

 The day had been soaked more thoroughly with death than it had been from rain, but the decaying corpse made you more uneasy than every kill you had made out in the storm. Inching closer, you caught the glint of steel in his teeth, the remnants of a shock capsule still wedged between his molars. You coward, you took the easy way out, didn’t you? How could you expect anything less from the Empire, lily-livered skinks, the lot of them. Enough of you! I’m the captain now! You lifted the human piñata out of his grave, marching to the trash chute and dumping the husk down into the dark. Bye bye, fucko.  

 Alone, truly alone now without the grinning skull of the forgotten captain, you paced the room, checking for more surprises. Dust had settled on almost every surface between the vines that creeped their way over the many consoles and monitors where once entire platoons of engineers and navigators had guided the mighty ship through the stars. As dark as it was, you closed your eyes, imagining the hustle and bustle of crews long past, the bark of captain's orders and the salty rebuke of their officers echoing in your memories. Your legs moved on without you, eyes open or closed mattered not as you wandered through the bridge on muscle memory until you were at the communication officers post.

     How long has it been, you wondered, since you had sat in that chair? A decade? Maybe more? The chair in question was garbage, but the microphone was still jutting out of the dashboard, and you brushed your fingers against the indents of the receiver. If only there was power in this old girl, you could really make those wildings think you were a god.  

 It was only by sheer arrogance that you had been given that chair, your ability to snake your tongue into the mind of any who opposed you was unparalleled. You weren’t qualified by any stretch of the word, but your superior officers had become ensorcelled by your siren songs, and you had been seated at the microphone to relay the bridge’s orders to the other units by day and unleash your starborn melodies by night. Though your captain’s word was law, your voice was what brought your crew solace when they would rest their weary heads. You hummed to yourself in the dark, unable to resist the call of days long gone.

“In a tower of flame as my starship fell, I was there. I know not where they laid my bones, it could be anywhere. But when fire and smoke had faded, the darkness left my sight, And I found my soul in a spaceship's hold, riding home on a trail of light.”  

 Your starsong resonated high and mighty through the bridge, oh those      acoustics! You loved the Iron Mistress that you’d been wed to on the arm of a Mandalorian, but the Crest’s cramped quarters couldn’t compare to the amphitheater that was a cruiser's bridge.

“And my wings are made of tungsten, my flesh of glass and steel. I am the pride of stars gone by for the power that I wield. Once upon a lifetime, I died a pioneer; Now I sing within a spaceship's heart. Does anybody hear?”  

 As if the sky itself heard your pleas, the storm roared and flashed wickedly outside the window, but lost in your reverie the thunderous boom sounded gunfire.

 Repressed memories exploded to life behind your eyes, and clear as day you saw it all come rushing back: the swath of stars above a glowing world, the streaks of cannon shots blasting at your eyes, colliding with the star cruiser’s shielding in vicious cerulean ripples of St Elmo’s fire. Your ship wouldn’t last much longer under the assault, the order had to be given.

  Fire.  

  Forecanons erupted to life, snuffing out the assailants like a reaper's scythe, carving a fiery path through the fray. The strength of the canons rocked your ship to its core, the thud thud thud of ionized plasma decimating the scrambled jets in your line of sight. Another hailing of shots peppered overhead, flickering across the transparisteel and drawing your attention to the radiant green halo that was coming to life on the surface of the mechanical moon your ship had been charged to escort. The corona of hellfire blazed and shot a beam of decimation into the world below.

 And then it was gone.

 Nothing but dust remained of the planet below, wafting away on the solar winds like the seeds of a dandelion. Around you your crewmates cheered, but all you had heard that day was the sound of screams.  

 You never set foot on a star cruiser again, and though you doubted the rebel alliance would take you in, the Guild asked no questions; and the next years of your life were spent hunting down the remnants of the Empire that had raised you.

 “Permission to come aboard, captain?”

 The modulated words behind you tore you violently from your recollections of despair, but you were thankful to be rescued from your tumultuous spiral. In the doorway that you had pried open stood the man you had chosen to walk the stars with, leaning against the sabotaged bulkhead. He had thrown his flack jacket over his shoulders, and under one arm was a basket full of fabric and beskar. A light on the side of his helmet shone like a sunbeam through the dark room, rivaling the torch you had since forgotten.

 “Heya bucket boy, you feeling better?” You asked, happy to leave your nightmares behind on the rusted dashboard as you wandered back to him.

 He nodded. “Thanks to you, mesh’la. I thought I heard your voice and I got worried. I’m glad to see you’re ok.”

 “You’re glad I’m ok? You almost fucking died!” He stiffened at the reminder, shirking away from you.

 “I’m so sorr-”

 “Don’t you dare finish that sentence, rustbucket.” You crossed the last few steps to him and grabbed his helmet by the recess of its cheeks, forcing him to dip his head to yours as you crashed your brow against his, maybe a little too hard for your unarmored skull; but you were determined to connect with him in the most sacred way he knew. The loaded basket under his arm hit the ground with a thwump when he dropped it, clutching at the sides of your jaw to hold you to him.

 “Cyare… please, I want to tell you I’m sorry.”

 “Shush, I don’t want your apology. I want you.” You met his visor, trying not to squint while you pawed at the highbeam on the side of his armor until it was out of your eyes. “I want you here with me, alive and well, and I got you now, so it’s all good, alright?”

 The pads of his thumbs brushed lovingly at your cheeks as he pushed you gently away so that he could see you better. “No, it’s      not    alright. It’s not… I can’t…” Fuck, he was so bad at stringing words together in Basic. Mando’a was so much easier, so much less clunky. He could parse entire lines of poetry to you in the words of the ruined world he had left behind, compare your beauty to the light of the stars, your radiance to the glow of many moons. Mando’a could be so much deeper than Basic, too. He wasn’t lying when he’d told you      cyare was like cyar'ika but with more meaning. It carried the weight of the galaxy with it, and the first time he had spoken it to you was when he had accepted your silent, albeit accidental proposal. Cyare means love, love like no other. A love worth dying for.  

 You couldn’t hear him over the galewinds that threatened to blow you into the river as you flew over the bridge to his rescue, but in that harrowing moment he had been telling you to go back, to leave him, let him go. He would sacrifice himself a hundred times over for you or for the foundling, but the thought of      you dying for him made him as sick as it had when you had laid bleeding out on the cot aboard the Crest. That’s not how this is supposed to work, damnit! I’m supposed to be the one protecting her and the foundling. I’m supposed to be the one who risks their life. Gladly he would have laid down his life, as long as the last thing that he knew was of your safety, but then you had dashed to his side, and plunged into the icy depths along with him.

 He was honorbound to you now, first in body and then in soul by the sacred oath of riddurok. You were the foremost thought in his mind as you were both swallowed by the raging swells, but as the weight of his armor dragged him under and his eyes began to darken when his flooded helmet tried to make its kill, he knew it was all over for him. He’d fired the grapple, making sure that his last act in the waking world would be to save you, even if it meant he would drown.

  Swear to me to protect me with your life was the vow that he had sworn, and he was determined to keep it to the bitter end, as your own oath had entailed. You only knew a few words of his adopted tongue, and maybe in time that would change, but for today the universal language would have to do. He breathed deep, trying valiantly to cobble together what he wanted to say. “Putting you in danger is not something a good husband would do.”

 He hoped that was enough to convey what he was feeling to you, but the way your brows cocked in that crooked way told him that his sentiment might have gotten a little lost.

 “Ok… but getting you out of danger is something that a good wife would do.”

  Oh.

 He hadn’t expected that, just like he hadn’t expected to wake back up on that muddy shore with you tearing him a new asshole, but maybe that's exactly what he should have expected. You were more stubborn and headstrong than a wild blurg, and you would lock horns with death itself to protect the ones you loved.

 And you loved him.

 Your hands had drifted down to his chest, noticing the faint purplish bruise that had begun to creep its way over his sternum from your compressions. He winced when you brushed against it, though you guessed it was more from the reminder of your ordeal than from actual pain. “We’re in this together now, and if that means I have to break a rib or two to keep you kickin’, then so be it.”

 He pulled the jacket off of his shoulders, digging through the breast pocket, the jingling, scraping sound making your heart sink at the memory of what he kept there. What if you had crushed them? The opalescent fossils were pulled into the light, as perfect and steadfast as they had been when you had pushed them onto his helmet and asked him to walk beside you for all your days. The flak was tossed to the basket on the floor while he turned the teeth over in his palm. “I guess these really are good luck.”

“Well obviously, that’s why I gave them to you.” You sassed the mighty warrior. Din pushed the jewels into their recesses with a cocky tilt of his visor, and you kissed at each of the radiant fangs, asking him with your lips for him to finally take that damn helmet off, regardless of how pretty it was now. “Is this private enough? I need to check your face for leeches.” He turned away from you to the bulkhead, sliding it closed before doing as you asked. The beskar was lifted away, taking the light source with it, and you took the helmet from him to use the spotlight for your inspection. “Fuck me sideways.”

 “Well, I mean, if you insist.” His lopsided smile curled upwards under sunken eyes, and you almost dropped the light when you reached up to touch his pale skin, still cold and clammy from keeping the wet armor on for too long. You brushed his matted hair off of his brow, swearing that you could feel ice crystals against your fingertips. Fucksake, he looked like death.  

 “Shit balls of hell, Din, that fucking bucket is gonna be the death of you.” You turned and set the offending beskar down on a low table, pointing the light as best you could towards the pair of you and throwing shadows around the room. The shades that danced over his face gave him the same haunted look as the corpse you had chucked down the garbage chute, and you felt a nasty chill run through your spine at the memory of that lipless grin. Not on my watch.  

 Though your skin was still a little cool, it was leagues warmer than his, and you pulled him in for a world-erasing hug, letting him bury his nose in the crook of your shoulder. His body was warm enough, but the insulated armor had kept the heat of the fire from reaching his head, and you hoped the heat of your heart would be enough to thaw him. Whether it was or not didn’t seem to matter to him, and he sank against you, dragging his hands down your back until they were resting against the span of your hips. You kissed his frigid face, feeling the pricks at the corners of your eyes when you realized his skin was no warmer than it had been on the river’s shore.

 You dug your fingers through his curls, trying to squeegee the water out until it was running down his spine. He groaned against you, and you felt him shiver at the cold drops against his warm back; under better circumstances you would have laughed at the goosebumps that prickeled his skin.

 “Who were you talking to? I know I heard your voice earlier.” He whispered softly against your ear, punctuating his question with more soft kisses.

 “Just singin’ to myself.” That wasn’t a lie, but maybe it wasn’t the whole truth either.

 “Can I hear it?”

 You nodded sheepishly against the side of his head, taking a deep breath that pulled the off-kilter scent of him into your lungs. He smelled like the rain, though it was probably more river water than petrichor. That mixed with the smell of woodfire smoke on top of his persistent warrior musk brought the tranquility of the forest without the storm through your mind. Peaceful. Caught in the cold limelight of the helmets glare, you sang the starsong back to him, lower and slower than you had when you were by yourself for your solo audience. It was just above a whisper, only enough for him alone to hear. A full house was overrated anyway.  

 It wasn’t until you’d gotten a few lines in when you felt it, the gentle sway    between the two of you, not quite dancing, but just as meaningful. You couldn’t dance, and you were willing to bet good credits that neither could he, but that didn’t matter in the slightest. It was just the two of you, arms wrapped around each other while you tried to warm him away from the grave, and him lovingly holding on tight. Din’s hands glided over your bare back and around your shoulders until they were sinking back down again to your waist, rocking you slowly with him back and forth to the ballad of the stars.

 You sauntered through the chorus again, and this time another sound beside the tenor of your own voice met your ears. With his face still pressed to the side of yours, your husband was humming, not in the way he usually did like when he was trying to flirt. No, he was humming along, just a tad off key, but his rich, wavering baritone swelled underneath your own voice until it was carrying your words up to the riveted sky where they could contest with the roar of the rain.

 And it was beautiful.

 Nobody in your years had ever made you cry as much as this man did, and as the last words of your song floated away you wiped the corners of your eyes off on the scruff of his face, hoping that he wouldn’t catch the stars caught in your lashes. His honeydark pools missed nothing, and they fluttered shut as he kissed your tears away, but the feel of warm skin on yours brought more of them anyway.

 “Please don’t cry, Starsong.” He soothed, slowly kissing over the ridges of your cheekbones until he was pressed to your lips. The sound of your new name made you smile against him. Stars above, how many names had you been given? Of all your titles, this one was your probably favorite, especially when it poured out from the mouth of the man you adored. You met his doe-like eyes with your own, watching the way they darted back and forth, still amazed that there was so much expression that was hidden by the beskar. He smiled back, a little bashfully, but nevertheless his sweet face sent warmth to the depths of your heart.

 Unwilling to resist him any longer, you crashed your lips against him, hearing him inhale sharply at your bravado. He still tasted like the fruit you had given him, sweet and succulent as a summer day, the flavor of him vaporizing the sound of storms, both inside and out. Your lips fit so perfectly against his, as if they had been made for each other, and you hummed into him when you felt the faintest touch of his tongue. Deepening your kisses, you went after the smooth muscle with your own, making him groan and dig his hands into your sides.

  Maker save him, he just can’t help himself with you, and the tender moment between you is engulfed in fire as he licks deeper into your mouth, rumbling at the whine you make. The whiskers on his face tickle at the side of your nose, almost making you sneeze when he tilts his head to chase the taste of you further. Sharp teeth catch on your lower lip when he bites at the edge of your mouth, the snag of his canines are soft, but demanding, and you gladly throw him off his attack when you bite him back. He pulls away from you to growl in your ear, but the effect is immediately lost when your chest tears away from his with a -shtiiiiiick-.  

 The fruit juice. You’d thrown your modesty right out the window many moons ago, and had completely ignored the fact that your tunic had been left drying by the fire when you went to go find a space to let Din free himself of his armor without tarnishing his creed. The plum juice from your devious game at the fireside had long since dried, but mixed with the sweat of your bodies it had become sticky again, and your unarmored companion only cocked his head at the strange sensation for a moment before he was diving for the nectar on your chest.

 “Riduur’iiikaaa~”    He crooned against your flesh, dragging his tongue over the swell of your breasts and up the length of your neck until he was nipping at your jaw. “You taste delicious.” You could only giggle at the flip-flopping desires of your man, letting yourself get caught up in the affections of the mighty warrior that loved you so. His lips curled upwards in a wicked grin against your skin at the sound of your laughter, and your mirth was gracelessly snuffed when he sucked at the tender side of your neck, leaving a trail of blooming marks down the side of your throat. Mine.    

 You laced your fingers in his damp hair as he made his way over your collarbone and back down to lap at the ambrosia coating the flesh that bounced so sweetly between his palms. He took a hardened tip between his lips, sucking the tender bud into his hot wet mouth, and though he was already sending you spinning, you couldn’t help but feel the faintest flicker of pride that you had cast all the ice from his veins. The residual worry floated back out from the edges of your mind, and you kissed the top of his head to get his attention, if only briefly.

 “Are you feeling ok though? Is it warm enough here for you? You’ve already been through enough shit today and the last thing we need is for you to get sick.” The half-lidded gaze that hauled itself up to meet your eyes made you feel like a lust-drunk fool. Stupid question.  

 “My wife, my love.” Stars above, the way he just let those words flow so readily made the heat in your chest surge all the way to the fingertips that he held so lightly between his own. He brought your hand up to his lips to kiss at the backs of your knuckles in that slow, deliberate pattern that sent electric shocks through your spine until it couldn’t stand you up straight anymore. The Mandalorian pulled you to him with another round of fervent kisses before leaning away from you, flashing you a devilish grin. “I know exactly where I can get myself warmed up.”

  Hot damn. “Oh yeah? Where’s that?” He chuckled darkly at your feigned ignorance, as if you didn’t know.  

 “Between your legs, cyar’ika” The last of your moxie dissolved like mist against a wildfire, but you knew he liked it when you made it a challenge, and you faked your best bemused face at him while he spooled himself around you.

 “Hmm… I dunno… There’s probably fish swimming around in my chonies after being in the rain for so long.” You snickered, but the look you got from him was decimating. “What? Can’t take a joke?”

 “Your pussy belongs to me, there better not be any damn fish in that sweet cunt of yours.”

 “Din!!” The audacity of this man! His rumbling laugh sent blazes over your skin, and your mouth was swallowed by his again to distract you from his wandering hands. Your startled cry disappeared down his throat when he plunged his hand down the front of your pants,hunting for the offending sea life that vexed you so. Calloused fingertips searched blindly through your folds, and you sank your nails into his shoulders while he pushed the devious digits through your slick heat.

 “Hm, no fish here.”

 “Fuck you.”  

 “Alright.” You floundered against his chest as he sank a finger into your dripping cunt, quickly followed by a second all the way to his knuckles. He had you squirming around his strong hands, but you became determined not to lose a game he didn’t know you were playing, and you stuffed your own mitt down the front of his sodden trousers to grope at his cock.

 “Found one.”

 “It’s cold.” 

“-Snrk-” You snorted an ugly laugh at him, but he ignored you and speared his fingers into you harder, pumping against your insides until your body was quaking in time with his thrusts. Not to be outdone, you palmed at his cool member, dragging nimble fingers along his shaft until you were cupping his balls. A choked, needy whine broke its way out past his teeth, and you gleefully watched his resolve break down across his handsome face. The pace of his pulsing hand fell out of time, the slick digits worming their way out to tease at your clit. His dark eyes flashed with shameless lust at your mewls, no doubt enjoying the same show of dissolution that you were.

 “Why don’t you pop a squat and let me take care of you, eh tinman?” You moaned breathy in his ear, biting at his lobe and making him sink his teeth into the meat of your shoulder while he tried not to crumble from your assault. Another gentle tug on his cock had him twitching at the waist and leaning heavily against you while you stoked his fire.

 “Haven’t… haven’t you t-taken care of me enough f-for one day?” His voice was haggard and broken, wavering over the fine line between spoken words and feral growls that burned against your skin.

 “Never.” You yanked your hips away from him, pulling him free of your sweet spot so you could drag him by his groin over to the captain's chair. Reluctantly you released him just long enough to push him into the seat, forcing him back until he was nice and reclined for you to unzip his pants and free him from the confines of the duraweave. The force of your excavating sprang the flushed member out so quickly that it bounced against his belly, leaving a glistening string of precum that made your mouth water.

 Fucking stars he looked so beautiful like this, the color had come back to his blissed-out face, making his cheeks look all rosey under sex-craved eyes. You knocked his armored thighs apart with your knees to tower over him, and the spectacle of those chocolate depths going wide turned your lips upwards in a devious sneer.

 “M-mesh’la, really, I s-should be t-taking care of… of  you...” So thoughtful of him to offer, but you were dead set on lighting his insides ablaze    .

 “Nah, you might be in the chair, but I’m the captain’a this ship.” You recklessly threw a leg over his thigh to straddle him with your still-clothed crotch and took a generous fistful of his shaft between your hands that nearly knocked the wind out of him. Dragging your thumb over his weeping head, you circled the blunt tip, smearing the slick down and around the length of him and making him shiver. When he’d been lubed to your liking, you wrapped your hands around him and languidly jerked him off just to watch him fall apart.

 The eyes that you had earned the right to see rolled and fluttered under his long lashes, squeezing shut whenever you tightened your grip as though you had a joystick in your hands and not his swollen flesh. You wondered then if you would have the same effect on his steering as you did on the Walker’s, chuckling to yourself at the thought of riding him to the ground. With his leg between yours you started gyrating against him, slotting the ridge of his legplate against where your slit pressed at the fabric of your pants; and his eyes shot open at the new sensation of you riding his thigh.

 “You know I c-can do that for you, right?” He asked with a whine, nearly choking on his own tongue when you palmed at his sack.

 “No touching, that’s an order.” Ohohoho he didn’t like that one bit, his eyebrows nearly dancing off his forehead while he tried to process the thought of not being able to touch the body of the woman he had sworn himself to. His plush lips curled up and bore his teeth at you in a rabid snarl that morphed into a villainous grin.

 “Yes, captain.”

 You ground down on his legplate in time with your fisting, feeling your own warm slick sticking to the inside of your trousers and slipping down the insides of your thighs. Your Mandalorian rocked his hips up against your downward strokes, clawing his hands at the armrests of the iron throne you had sat him in, forbidden to grope at your rolling breasts like he so desperately wanted to. The way you rolled your hips over his thigh had the gorgeous dewdrops swaying right in front of his eyes, nearly hypnotizing him with the way they moved. Just a little closer and he could take the tip of one in his mouth where it belonged, where he could suckle the taste of the plum nectar off of them until just the sweet, delectable taste of you remained.

 The hard beskar grinding against your cunt felt wonderful, but not as marvelous as you knew the feel of his living steel would be. Without releasing him from your grasp you stood up from his hot armor and pushed yourself up between his legs. “Get me out of these.”

 Brown eyes twinkled at you from under sly brows. “I thought I wasn’t allowed to touch you?”

 “Either you take them off of me or I let go of mini mando. Your choice.” You twisted your fist around him to make your point, making him convulse in your grasp and moan right in your face. You heard the sound of your pants hitting the floor before you even felt him digging at your waist, and you couldn’t help but look down at your bare legs in surprise. “Impressive, now hands off, mister.”

 “Vixen.”

“Captain.” Kicking your boots off you clambered up into the chair with him, setting your knees on the bulky armrests so that you hovered just out of reach of his throbbing cock. His hips jutted upwards, trying to reach wondrous warmth, but to no avail. The shit-eating-grin you flashed him made him growl    , he was getting so impatient, but you didn’t give a single fuck. “You want this, hmm?” You ran a hand through your folds, circling your own clit for him to watch while you played with his dick. At his sides his fingers curled and uncurled into fidgety fists, simultaneously loving and hating the order you had given.

 “F- fuck yes please, cyare.”  

 “Is that begging I hear?” You chuckled venomously, clicking your tongue against the roof of your mouth. “For shame, a Mandalorian begging to have his cock fucked.” The muscles that usually bore the weight of beskar twitched on the sides of his neck, making the glare of the visor that usually hid him easy to imagine. “Go ahead then, beg me to take you.” Another flick of your wrist had him arching his back and running his hands up through his disheveled locks until he was grabbing at the headrest for support. You were turning him into such a mess, and the lids of his eyes fought to keep his gaze on where your hand was fanning and spreading your own burning need around for him to see. “Say my name.”  

 A ragged gasp of your birthname sang its way into the dark of the bridge, but the sound of it sounded so strange now, as if it didn’t belong to you any more, and you tutted and shook your head. From between his raised arms he waggled brows at you, surprised that he hadn’t given you what you’d demanded. “No, not that one,” you whispered, letting the heat of your breath collide with the steam of the living locomotive.

“C-c-c- cyare…”His stuttering words punctuated the rock of his hips, and he throbbed hard in your palm. You swapped hands, dragging your own hot slick over his length, but only a single stroke, can’t have him coming undone just yet.

 “Nope. Pick another one.”

 His head rolled back against the headrest under his elbows that were now over his eyes, trying to hide himself from your vicious teasing. You knew words weren’t his strong point, but watching him writhe to meet your demands was a show worth waiting for.

 “S-ss- Star-ssong?” The term of endearment hissed through his clenched teeth, Hmm, closer. You rewarded him with another slide of your soaked hand, swiping a thumb through the weeping slit of his swollen length.

 “Lemme hear that in Mando’a.” 

“Tra’laaar-! Please Tra’laar!” The agonized whine that he barked out practically echoed through the stately chamber, and it was perfection. Through one tightly-screwed eye he saw you flash a smile at him and nod, and you sped your efforts up and down his length, making him almost cry at the sensation.      “Tra’laar, ner Tra’laar, gedet’ye! Gedet’ye ni linibar gar!” The words of his native tongue poured out of him like the river he’d nearly drowned in, and though you only knew the sound of your gifted name, the agonized prayers told you enough.

 Carefully you lifted yourself down from the armrests and into the seat, squeezing your knees in between the durasteel and the side of his hips and letting your molten core swallow him inch by delicious inch. Under you the Mandalorian rutted hard up into your heat, and you caught his hands in yours before he could grapple at your waist. “I said no touching.”  

He fought in your grasp, nearly clawing his way to your feverish flesh, but settled for being able to finally be inside of you. The muscles of his abdomen rolled his hips up into you, trying their damnedest to quench his thirst, and you tossed his arms away from you to drag your fingers through the soft treasure trail of his belly. Beneath your fingertips he twitched and heaved, caught between the need to feel you sliding over his cock and the terror of having his soft underbelly exposed.

 Sparing his vulnerable guts for now, you glided your hands up to his chest, riding him slowly and deliberately while you took your sweet time. Your eyes watched his as you rose higher up on your knees and sank back down again and again, reveling in the way his gorgeous eyes flickered every time he disappeared into you. Though he wasn’t allowed to touch you, that didn’t mean you couldn’t tease him, and you swiped your thumbs under the buds of his chest, almost getting your lights knocked out when he balked at the sensation. In the corners of your eyes you could see his white-knuckled fists still clenching at the sides of the chair, and you gently pinched and rolled the sensitive little nibs between your fingers until he was shaking between your legs.

 “P-p-p please, Tra’laar, I… c-can’t take much m-m-more…” You were supposed to be the minstrel of the two of you, but the way he practically sang like a canary made your blood run hot and your fluttering coils seize around him. “Please, please let me touch you?”  

 “Since you asked so nicely, but only if you keep begging.” Instantly he was on you, holding you by the indents of your neck and back and pulling you down against his chest. With you fixed in place he catapulted up into you, slamming into your slick cunt with a force to be reckoned with. In your ear he spilled long strings of mando’a, though his ragged tempo broke the sweet phrases down into meaningless, lustful jargon. The hot palms on your neck and back broke loose and slapped down on the swell of your ass, giving him complete control to thrust up into you with abandon. The speed and strength of the beskar bronco had you seeing stars in no time, and the shameful squelch of you coming around his length was only drowned out by his own filthy groans.

“Such a good girl, coming around my cock.” He purred in your ear, the sultry words dripping with more malice than your cunt was dripping with cum. “My turn.”

 He threw himself forward, flipping the two of you like a slutty pancake down onto the dirty floor, carefully cradling the back of your head while he did so as not to crack your skull open from the force of impact. You weren’t given a single second to process the change of scenery before he was leaning back to set you at the perfect angle for him to chase his own release. Strong hips thrust against the backs of your thighs, sending the head of his cock bumping against the sensitive patch of nerves over and over until you were clenching around him again. He threw your legs over his shoulders and plowed, giving you a front row ticket to him grinding himself to completion.

 His face was a disaster, brows furrowed and lips pulled back in a snarl that only broke apart with a victorious roar while he spilled everything he had into you until it was nearly frothing out around where you were melted together. He let one of your legs sink off of his shoulder, but coiled his arms around the other, hugging the only part of you he could reach to keep himself steady. For a moment he looked so lovely, almost delicate, as if he was running his hands over a stringed instrument instead of your shaking leg. Whiskered kisses dotted along the side of your leg just moments before he was biting it, hard. With a yelp you fought back in the only way you could by clamping down on his cock that was still buried deep inside, making him falter and release your captive calf. He sank over you, jackknifing you under him while he hunted for your mouth. Through the fiery kisses you could feel the sides of his fuzzy lips turning upwards until his devious grin was making it difficult to kiss him back.

 “You’re such a jerk.”  

 “You started it.”

 “I didn’t do shit.” You giggled and fought against the meat of his shoulder to let your leg go, and when you had your limbs back to yourself you wrapped all of them around him, locking him to you while you both caught your breath. High above you the storm had started to wane, down to a siegeworthy drizzle from a rampant monsoon, though it was still darker than the midnight sea under the frumious cloud cover. There weren’t any stars for you to get lost in outside that sloping transparisteel, but when your lover turned his eyes to meet yours you knew you didn’t need any celestial bodies to navigate the cosmos with.

 Din kissed you again, sweet and slow in his promising way, swearing to love you without a single word. A low, warm rumble of a laugh made its way through his ribs and resonated against your chest, “You’re so beautiful like this,      riduur’ika.    I wish you could see what I see.”

 “I think I can take a guess.” A stray curl had flopped over his sweatstreaked brow, and you gently brushed it back into place with tired fingers. If you looked anything like he did now, blissful and sweaty and exhausted, then you supposed you were probably as beautiful as he said. “Sorry to take away from the festivities, but I gotta ask, where’s our foundling at?”

 Your husband propped himself up on his elbows to address you better, “He’s with the Ewoks, I haven’t heard any screaming so he must be behaving, which is unlike him.”

 “Ewoks?”

 He cocked a brow at you, “Yes, Ewoks, I think you called them ‘bear thingies?’”

 Now it was your turn for crooked glances, “That’s not an ewok, ewoks are some kind of animal, I’ve had ewok and I can assure you it didn’t taste like fur.”

 Din turned away from you with a horrified expression that flattened out the crinkles around his wide eyes. “I shouldn’t have said anything…”

 “The fuck does that mean?!” You ignored the feeling of him slipping out from your soaked core to deal with the sudden bantha in the room. “Din?!”

 “Those poachers we dealt with? Yeah… um. Ewoks are… a… delicacy on s-some planets… ”

  “Your pillow talk needs work you big fucking waffle iron!”  

 Obscenities flew like bullets between the two of you, though as lecherous as you could both be, everything was said with a hefty serving of affection as you both sauntered your way off of the desecrated flight deck. You were glad to leave the pit of memories behind as you spat venom to your husband, who gladly returned fire with more playful jabs. Maybe one day you would tell him of the time you had spent on those mighty star cruisers, though you would just as much rather let bygones be bygones.

After all, you knew how much he hated Imps... 

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#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #bargaining with beskar

[demig00ddess]

Sleeping Beauty

Charlie Weasley x MC

Warning: huge spoilers for Year 6 Chapter 18!

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CHAPTER FOUR

THE CONSEQUENCES OF DEATH

    1989.     Middle of the first semester.     The quill in the hands creaked monotonously, writing words on the paper. Professor Binns’ voice and the stifling atmosphere of the office were slowly putting in the trance. Emma bit her cheek more painfully and continued to take notes on the lecture.     Behind the farthest desk, Binns’ rustling voice was hard to hear, so Emma regularly consulted the textbook. Two seats were empty in the first rows. One of them is next to Penny, there was always Rowan. The second — next to Charlie, he occupied it for Emma every lesson. Today Emma quietly slipped into the office just before the start of the lecture so as not to meet with her classmates.     Penny sat down next to Charlie and whispered something in his ear. For some reason, Emma felt as if she had swallowed the bubotuber pus. She shook her head, for sure it seemed to her because of fatigue. She was satisfied with the back seat, but the fact that someone else was sitting in her place next to Charlie was a little annoying. Charlie listened to Penny and nodded absently. He looked around uneasily, trying to see someone or something. Emma was glad that she was safely hidden from the front desks by the backs of her classmates.

    “… delegated authority to Wizn… Wesegn… to Wizengamot.” Emma stubbornly wrote down the professor’s words, despite the fact that her hands were shaking and big blots remained on the parchment.     She felt sleepy, but she could not afford to fall asleep. There was a bright flash of green light in front of closed eyes. The Dreamless Sleep Potion they had been brewing on Potions had run out. The dose from the hospital wing that Madame Pomfrey had advised not to overuse had ended too. But after such a sleep, she got up even more tired.     A flash of green and Rowan’s body falls right in front of her. The friend’s eyes are wide open in surprise, her mouth is slightly open in a silent scream. “Debt collected.” Emma could not bear it, she woke up with a cry and tears in her eyes. The silencing charms she put on her bed every night kept her from waking an already worried Liz. Whatever Merula said, the same charms were imposed on her bed, she could not afford to be considered weak by anyone, not even Izmelda.     Every time Emma closed her eyes, there was a green flash and the body of her best friend fell in front of her. At first, it was only memories of Rowan, but then a deadly beam hit Ben, and he fell dead in front of Emma. Merula died next, then Charlie, Penny, Barnaby, Bill, Tonks. Her friends threw themselves under a killing spell, and she could only watch their lifeless bodies fall to the ground. Emma tried to revive Jae and Badeya, begged Tulip to get up, but they were all dead.     Charlie turned around again and Emma looked away. There was her own cry in her ears when a green beam hit him when the red head hit the ground and her tears fell on the freckles on his still warm face.

    Emma doubled over to stifle the pulling pain and rumbling in her stomach. After eating, she felt sleepy, but she couldn’t sleep. After lights out, she would sit up in the Slytherin common room with her books and send especially curious juniors to the bedrooms.     Most of the teachers averted their eyes from her as if they didn’t want to disturb her. Snape gave her an incomprehensible look as she submitted an essay on the Draught of Living Death a foot longer than he demanded. And Flitwick freed her from homework, after, because of trembling hands, she conjured not a small fountain of water, but a real tsunami, flooding the office.     During the day, Emma wandered and loitered about the castle, avoiding familiar faces. She shunned talking, trying to hide in a niche or take refuge in some class. She felt that some part of her had died and now she could not exist normally. She wandered half-dead.

    An idea came to the head like lightning. Half-dead! Surely! How the thought didn’t occur to her at once. Emma jotted down hastily Binns’ last words.     “Professor! Professor Binns, please wait!” Emma made her way through classmates.     “Um, Underwood? Do you want anything?”     Emma hesitated a little, she didn’t think what exactly she would ask the teacher. The classroom was empty and she finally found the words.     “Professor, I wanted to know about Rowan, Rowan Khanna. She always said that she wanted to be the youngest professor at Hogwarts. Um — Couldn'tshestayherelikeyou?”     “Excuse me?”     “Couldn’t she become a ghost? I mean, you came back to teach students, she could come back too. She would have come up with everything, finish her studies, and then began to teach. I’m sure Professor Dumbledore would have let her! She could have stayed here! Haven’t you… haven’t you seen her?”     Emma blurted it all out in one breath, afraid that the professor would interrupt her. Binns adjusted his glasses and for the first time looked at Emma like that, with the keen, clear gaze that Emma often saw in Dumbledore.     “Miss Khanna was a gifted witch. And for all her love of teaching, she was drawn to explore and learn something new.” Emma stared at the old professor. “So rest assured, Miss Underwood, she went ahead.”     “Went ahead? Where did she go?”     “Unfortunately, I do not possess these facts. But you should know she’s not coming back. I’m sorry, this is a big loss for Hogwarts.” Binn turned and walked through the board.     “For Hogwarts,” Emma repeated. It seemed to her that Rowan had died a second time, again in front of her eyes. She had already seen her friend, ethereal, pearl-silver, but talking to her and laughing. But Rowan went ahead.     Emma stuffed a quill and blob-strewn lecture notes into her bag. She wanted to hide somewhere, in Moaning Myrtle’s toilet or a dark closet. She had no strength to return to the common room.

    At the exit from the class she was caught by someone’s strong hands, Emma jerked sharply, holding a wand to the attacker's neck. She could feel her heart pounding thumping deep in her head. “I have to defend myself.”     “Emma,” Charlie gently moved the trembling wand away from his neck. Emma freed herself from his grasp and dashed down the hallway.     “Emma! I want to talk! Please!”     “Not now, Charlie,” she wanted to hide quickly. Charlie caught up with her and gently turned her around. He didn’t insist but asked. There was not a drop of pity in his bright eyes, they were full of concern. He examined her carefully as if trying to see if she had done something bad to herself.     “You were right,” Emma turned her gaze into his boots. “You better stay away from me. Everyone should stay away from me.”     She turned and walked away. She had already lost one friend and couldn’t bear to lose someone else. Charlie caught up with her again and grabbed her into his arms.     “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. I should never have said those words to you. You are my — You’re my best friend and I will be by your side. Whenever you need me, I’ll be there for you.”     Emma shook her head, pulling back.     “Your brothers — ”     “My brothers will support me,” Charlie interrupted her, he was confident in his words. His eyes said that he would not let anyone else hurt her. Emma felt her eyes fill with tears. The students scurried along the corridor and Emma again had a keen desire to hide.     “Come with me,” Charlie whispered in her ear.

    They walked and walked until they came to a sprawling tree near the lake, scaring several of the Hufflepuff freshmen out of there. Charlie hit the ground first, rummaged in his bag, pulled out the sandwiches wrapped in a napkin, and handed it to Emma.     “How long have you not eaten?”     “A couple of days, maybe more,” Emma sat down next to him and sniffed at the sandwiches. “How did you know?”     “Couldn’t find you in the Great Hall.”     Emma took a bite of her sandwich and put it aside, feeling nauseous. Charlie looked at her closely but said nothing. They sat in silence for a few minutes, Emma bit by bit on the sandwich to keep from getting sick.     “I spoke to Nearly Headless Nick. Also asked about… this.”     “What did he say?”     “The same as Binns.”     Emma felt a tear roll down her cheek.     “I saw Rowan’s parents yesterday, they came to pick up her things. I visited them every summer. They loved her so much…”     Emma burst out, talking and talking, ignoring the tears. Charlie just sat there and listened. When Emma finished and exhaled helplessly, he leaned her head on his shoulder and began to speak. He told her stories that he had heard from his mother as a child. He talked about the books he had read. Emma lay on his shoulder and listened, inhaling the scent of grass, honeysuckle, and something else very familiar. She didn’t notice as her eyes began to close, and Charlie’s voice seemed to ring out farther and farther.

    She didn’t get much sleep, Emma woke up from her own scream, she was tossing around, not knowing where she was. She was choking on tears and couldn’t breathe, it seemed that someone had sucked all the air out of her lungs.     “Shh. I’m here, everything is fine,” Charlie’s quiet and soft voice rang out over her ear. He put his arm around Emma, stroking her hair soothingly. She sobbed and grabbed his hand, afraid to let go.     “Do you want me to tell a tale about the fountain of Fair Fortune?” asked Charlie a few minutes later, when Emma calmed down. She nodded.     “Jacob used to tell me this story when I couldn’t sleep.”     “Now you need to sleep too. I’m not such a good storyteller, but I hope you like it. High on a hill in an enchanted garden, enclosed by tall walls and protected by strong magic, flowed the Fountain of Fair Fortune…”

    When Emma woke up, the sun was already setting, she was lying on Charlie’s lap, covered by his jacket. Charlie himself was reading a book, only wearing a sweater. Emma jumped awkwardly and blushed.     “Did you get some sleep?” Charlie pulled out a blade of grass tangled in her hair. The tips of his ears turned pink. Emma nodded in surprise, she slept for hours without nightmares. “You smiled in your sleep. I missed it, your smile I mean.”     Emma flushed and hastily turned away, pretending to straighten her clothes. She vaguely remembered what she had dreamed, but Charlie was definitely there. “Well, he’s your friend, the others must have been in the dream too,” she told herself.

    Charlie had already packed his things, got to his feet and gave her a hand. Emma got up, too, and handed him his jacket.     “Don’t,” Charlie threw the jacket over her shoulders. “You can freeze after sleep.”     “Are we going to the castle yet?” Emma tried to hide the disappointment in her voice.     “We’re in time for dinner. Sit down at the Gryffindor table, okay? You need to eat, and you're boycotting food.” Emma’s stomach purred in agreement. Charlie gave her a bribing look, “Penny also wanted to sit with us while we are allowed.”     “Oh,” at the mention of Penny, appetite disappeared.     “Oh?” Charlie asked. “Did you have a fight?”     “No, I didn’t mean that.” Emma said, not understanding why she was angry at Penny. She always supported Emma and wished only the best for her.     They walked in silence for a few minutes, lost in their own thoughts. Finally, Emma broke down.     “You and Penny have become very close, haven’t you?”     “Yes,” Charlie said simply. “Especially recently. We spend a lot of time together.”     “Oh,” Emma said again, and they both fell silent.

    An unpleasant weight filled Emma’s chest, making her difficult to breathe. She noticed this even during their trip to Romania, but then she wasn’t up to it, she was too keen on their adventure. But since… since the moment… Emma couldn’t bring herself to say what had happened even in her thoughts. For the last couple of weeks, Charlie and Penny have hardly ever parted, and for some reason it hurt her.     Emma was happy for her friends, she loved both Penny and Charlie, as friends, of course. And it was great that they got together. Something was still gnawing at her, but Emma brushed the thought away. She didn’t want to be selfish, and even more she didn’t want to interfere with the happiness of her best friends. Especially in these times.

    “Glad for you,” Emma said already at the castle.     “Sorry?” Charlie snapped out of his thoughts.     “I’m glad for you and Penny, that you’re getting close,” she explained, trying to avoid Charlie’s gaze.     “Thank you,” Charlie looked surprised, letting her into the Great Hall.     “I’ll eat at my table,” Emma said sullenly.     “But — ”     “I’ll eat, I promise. I just… want to eat at my usual place. Alone,” she added hastily, noticing that Charlie had something to say. He nodded and gave her a confused smile.     “Then I’ll see you later, right?”     They went in opposite directions, joining their classmates. A few minutes later, Penny entered the Great Hall and went straight to the Gryffindor table. Charlie said something to Penny, who was smiling contentedly. Emma poked at the broccoli with her fork and looked away from the chatting couple.

    After dinner, Emma hurried down to the dungeons, once again avoiding her friends, and began to write an essay on the Orion constellation. It wasn’t until she was getting ready for bed that she realized that she hadn’t given Charlie his jacket back. Already in bed, having applied a silencing charm, Emma picked up the jacket in her hands, pondered for a couple of seconds and wrapped herself in it, curling up on the bed. The familiar smells immediately enveloped her, and she closed her eyes.     “Cinnamon” flashed through her head in the dream. The smell that haunted her for a long time was the light scent of cinnamon. It smelled like that at home when, years ago, her dad made cinnamon rolls, according to grandmother’s recipe. Emma buried her nose in the jacket and fell asleep with a smile on her face.

    It was the second time in two weeks that she had no nightmares.

#sleeping beauty #hogwarts mystery #emma anderson #charlie weasley #penny haywood #hphm #hphm mc #harry potter hogwarts mystery #emma anderson x charlie weasley #hphm charlie #charlie x mc #hphm jacobs sibling #hogwarts #harry potter universe #harry potter #hp

[rpgmgames]

Happy New Year from RPGMGames! Let's take a moment to reflect on 2018 and look back at all of the incredible projects and developers that were featured last year.

January’s Featured Game: HELLO CHARLOTTE

GENRE: Surreal, Horror, Dark Comedy WARNINGS: Gore, Body Horror, Graphic Content SUMMARY: Meet Charlotte - a puppet you will control. Meet her alien friends, maggot cat and a certain Observer. Dive deep into horrors of junk food, TV world, religion and romance novels for middle-age women. Keep your puppet safe at all times. Or don’t. Have fun dying! Check it out here: EP1 | EP2 | EP3 | DELIRIUM

February’s Featured Game: LONE STAR

GENRE: Western, Action, Adventure SUMMARY: Lone Star takes place in the far-flung, sunbaked desert country of Diamondback, where sheriffs struggle to maintain civil order and protect the public from the deserts’ many vicious outlaws. The demand for someone to enforce the law led to independently operated training programs for citizens who want to help keep the peace. Elmer is a student of one such program held in the little mining locale of Bulk Rock City, who ventures into the chaotic wasteland alone in an effort to do his part as a sheriff-in-training. Check out the developer's blog here!

March’s Featured Game: CERESS AND OREA

GENRE: Puzzle, Adventure SUMMARY: Ceress is sentenced to death, because she’s in love with the ‘wrong’ person. But stubborn as she is, she calls out to an old deity, demanding a chance to change this unrighteousness. Can Ceress overcome death to be reunited with the woman she loves, Orea? Play the game here!

April’s Featured Game: FOLKLORIA

GENRE: Adventure, RPG SUMMARY: Folkloria is a lighthearthed turn-based RPG set on a floating island inhabited by mythological creatures. You play as Weaver, a young and unassuming griffin determined to rescue his family from the clutches of Dr. Zeralidius, a shady businessperson from the world below the clouds who plans to modernize the peaceful island. Check out the developer's blog here!

May’s Featured Game: MARE

GENRE: Horror, Adventure, Fantasy, RPG WARNINGS: Listed here SUMMARY: The game follows Naomi, who awakens to find that they cannot remember their name, memories, and where they are. All they know is they can hear a lone voice calling to them, “Naomi, come find me.” Play the demo here!

June’s Featured Game: QUEEN MARY'S SCRIPT RETOLD

GENRE: Adventure SUMMARY: Queen Mary’s Script is a tale of a young girl who finds a happy escape in her own dreams. She lives in a shell closed off from the world and only in her own room can she express her feelings. That is, until she happens upon the doll Clause and all at once, the magic she yearned for in her life is thrust upon her. However, she soon finds that magic isn’t always what it looks like in books and dolls are just as selfish as humans. Play the demo here!

July’s Featured Game: BLACK CRYSTALS

GENRE: Fantasy, RPG WARNINGS: Alcohol Reference, Drug Reference, Use of Alcohol, Use of Drugs, Use of Tobacco, Mild Blood, Fantasy Violence, Sexual Themes SUMMARY: Starsio, a street performer, finds himself in the stickiest of situations. Starsio was kidnapped off the streets of his home town and brought to the brothel Paprika where he is forced to become a performer. One rainy night, Starsio gathers his courage and wits and plans an escape. He convinces Arthur, an apprehensive and fidgety new found friend, to accompany him. Starsio sets his escape plan in motion with one last song… Check out the developer's blog here!

August’s Featured Game: SHROOM SOUP

GENRE: Adventure, RPG, Psychological Horror WARNINGS: Listed here (may contain spoilers) SUMMARY: You play as Arnika, a gloomy teenage girl. Perpetually tired, you live off excessive sleep, lime juice, and instant soup. You look into the vortex forming in your cup of said soup, this time mushroom flavour. Next thing you know, you are in an entirely different world where everything, from buildings to people, is being devoured by fungi. It seems like you have no choice but to walk on… Your journey involves exploration, puzzle-solving and battles. Play the demo here!

September’s Featured Game: GHOST HOSPITAL

GENRE: Adventure, RPG WARNINGS: Anxiety, Body horror, Implied child harm SUMMARY: Ghost Hospital is a game about anxiety, depression, despair, mental rock bottoms, and, of course, ghosts. You play as Robin, a twelve-year-old girl who has an anxiety disorder and is very much alive in this hospital meant for beings that are not alive. Frankly, her anxiety was already bad enough before she landed in a hospital full of dead people, the still-shambling shells of ancient ghosts who try to take her down for a sweet taste of life, and the hospital directors hellbent on keeping her contained, and more importantly, away from the reason she’s REALLY there. Thankfully, you have your new friends Jay and Sarcastic Ghost- Jay is a ghost about your age, and still a very new arrival to the hospital, and Sarcastic Ghost…well, he’s an amorphous blob of a ghost, who talks a lot despite not having a mouth. Play the demo here!

October’s Featured Game: OVERCAST

GENRE: Horror, Supernatural, Action, RPG WARNINGS: Graphic Violence, Body Horror, Drugs and Alcohol, Obscured Nudity, Mild Gore, Suicide Reference, Religous References SUMMARY: Overcast is an Action RPG with two separate protagonists. Violet; the modest yet strict Spirit of the Sun, and Nico; the relaxed yet distant Spirit of Rain. In a world where humans and spirits live alongside each other, Nico is a lonely spirit that resides on Aarat, an obscure city on an island in the middle of the sea shrouded by dark clouds. For some mysterious reason it rains at all times. After a catastrophe forced Nico into hiding; Violet emerges from her home in the heavens; Paradiso, to take the island by storm and bring an end to the rain. Check out the developer's blog here!

November’s Featured Game: SHOOTY AND THE CATFISH

GENRE: Adventure, RPG WARNINGS: Course Language, Gore SUMMARY: Shooty and the Zaat are a dynamic duo solving monstrous mysteries! Play the demo here!

December’s Featured Game: SOMA SPIRITS

GENRE: RPG SUMMARY: Soma Spirits is a choice-driven Role-Playing Game in which players will face heavy dilemmas with a colorful cast of characters. Unlike many games of choice, the decisions you will make in the world of Soma are not so black and white, and characters will undergo different changes depending on how you wish to proceed. The world of Soma is a land divided into two similar, but distinct versions of one another. At certain locations, you will be able to travel back and forth between the World of Joy and the World of Sorrow and find different inhabitants, monsters, and clues on how to proceed. How you decide to help the people you meet along your journey will determine which of the game’s five outcomes Heart and Soul will find themselves in. Play the game here! Check out the extended version here!

We look forward to many more exciting interviews and new projects in the year to come!

#rpg maker #rpgmaker #indie games #free games #rpg horror #game dev #masterpost #game of the month #gotm #gotm 2018 #long post

[thefloatingstone]

Somebody asked me for some anime recs. I asked them what kind of genres they’re into but I’m not getting a reply, so here are just some general recommendations for good stuff to watch.

I assume they meant new anime so I’m only focusing on those.

Made in Abyss (2017) (warning for Body horror, violence and gore)

The Abyss—a gaping chasm stretching down into the depths of the earth, filled with mysterious creatures and relics from a time long past. How did it come to be? What lies at the bottom? Countless brave individuals, known as Divers, have sought to solve these mysteries of the Abyss, fearlessly descending into its darkest realms. The best and bravest of the Divers, the White Whistles, are hailed as legends by those who remain on the surface.

Riko, daughter of the missing White Whistle Lyza the Annihilator, aspires to become like her mother and explore the furthest reaches of the Abyss. However, just a novice Red Whistle herself, she is only permitted to roam its most upper layer. Even so, Riko has a chance encounter with a mysterious robot with the appearance of an ordinary young boy. She comes to name him Reg, and he has no recollection of the events preceding his discovery. Certain that the technology to create Reg must come from deep within the Abyss, the two decide to venture forth into the chasm to recover his memories and see the bottom of the great pit with their own eyes. However, they know not of the harsh reality that is the true existence of the Abyss.

Pros:

Ghibli artists working on the backgrounds and environments

likeable characters

crushing atmosphere

incredible world building

Really compelling mysteries

Very emotional

Cons:

The manga its based on has a lot of lolicon bullshit. But the anime has doneits best to either remove or downplay those elements as childhood innocence rather than the author being a creep

Ends without clear answers as we have to wait for season 2

Not for you if you dislike violence or body horror

That Time I got Reincarnated as a Slime (2018)

Thirty-seven-year-old Satoru Mikami is a typical corporate worker, who is perfectly content with his monotonous lifestyle in Tokyo. In the midst of a casual encounter with his colleague, a knife weilding maniac attacks them. Satoru, in shielding his co-worker and his co-worker’s new girlfriend, is fatally stabbed, and dies.

And then he wakes up again. But now, in the body of a blob of slime. In doing so, he acquires newfound skills—notably, the power to devour anything and mimic its appearance and abilities. He then stumbles upon the sealed Catastrophe-level monster "Storm Dragon" Veldora who had been sealed away for the past 300 years for devastating a town to ashes. Sympathetic to his predicament, Satoru befriends him, promising to assist in destroying the seal. In return, Verudora bestows upon him the name Rimuru Tempest to grant him divine protection.

With a goal now, the newly named Rimuru sets out to explore this fantasy world, stumbling into situations where other people need help, and since finding ways to live peacefully is much less hassle, Rimuru does his best to settle conflicts and help people to get along. Mostly because he’s got nothing better to do.

Pros:

Likeable, chilled out protagonist who acts and behaves like an adult

Not the average wish-fullfilment harem-in-disguise type stuff you expect from the average Isekai show

Characters focusing on trying to help each other and be kind without coming across as cheesy or unrealistic

Fun powers and “how are you gonna fix this mess?” situations

Cons:

occasional anime tiddy

Mob Psycho 100 (2016) (If you’ve seen season 1 already then watch season 2)

An Eighth-grader Shigeo "Mob" Kageyama is possibly the most powerful psychic on earth. Which is the only thing he has going for him which, in his opinion, isn’t much. Due to his powers going crazy if he gets overwhelmed by his emotions, Mob has spent his life suppressing his feelings, both negative and positive. As a result, however, Mob is an extremely socially awkward and shy person who struggles to connect to people.

The story follows Mob as he tries to find ways to better himself as a person, aided by the fake psychic Reigen who both uses Mob’s real psychic powers to exorcise ghosts, but also uses his fake con-man skill of charming people and being a smooth talker to help people fix their problems rather than have them rely on a psychic for help. He also acts as a mentor to Mob, not on how to be a better psychic, but on how to mature into a good, capable person. Because according to Reigen “Having psychic powers is just a skill. Some people can run fast, some people can can sing well, some people are good at studying, some people are funny, and some people have psychic powers.”

Now if only the assortment of Cult leaders, Ghosts, Secret organizations and Powerful psychics trying to take over the world could leave him alone.

Pros:

A subversion of the “I must get stronger!” shounen story where the character is already the strongest and needs to focus on being a better person instead.

Probably the best animated show to come out in years

Good uplifting morals

A wacky off-beat art style and sense of humour

Genuinely complex and 3 dimensional characters who are likeable

Really relatable in many ways

Cons:

I can’t think of any tbh

Then we have anime I have on my “to watch” list and come highly recommended but I haven’t seen yet. But I want to recommend them anyway

A Place Further Than The Universe  (2018)

a “Cute Girls Doing Cute Things” show.

Filled with an overwhelming sense of wonder for the world around her, Mari Tamaki has always dreamt of what lies beyond the reaches of the universe. However, despite harboring such large aspirations on the inside, her fear of the unknown and anxiety over her own possible limitations have always held her back from chasing them. But now, in her second year of high school, Mari is more determined than ever to not let any more of her youth go to waste. Still, her fear continues to prevent her from taking that ambitious step forward—that is, until she has a chance encounter with a girl who has grand dreams of her own. Spurred by her mother's disappearance, Shirase Kobuchizawa has been working hard to fund her trip to Antarctica. Despite facing doubt and ridicule from virtually everyone, Shirase is determined to embark on this expedition to search for her mother in a place further than the universe itself. Inspired by Shirase's resolve, Mari jumps at the chance to join her. Soon, their efforts attract the attention of the bubbly Hinata Miyake, who is eager to stand out, and Yuzuki Shiraishi, a polite girl from a high class background. Together, they set sail toward the frozen south.

The Promised Neverland (2019) (warning for violence and gore)

Surrounded by a forest and a gated entrance, the Grace Field House is inhabited by orphans happily living together as one big family, looked after by their "Mama," Isabella. Although they are required to take tests daily, the children are free to spend their time as they see fit, usually playing outside, as long as they do not venture too far from the orphanage—a rule they are expected to follow no matter what. However, all good times must come to an end, as every few months, a child is adopted and sent to live with their new family... never to be heard from again. However, the three oldest siblings have their suspicions about what is actually happening at the orphanage, and they are about to discover the cruel fate that awaits the children living at Grace Field, including the twisted nature of their beloved Mama.

Zombieland Saga (2018)

There’s a good chance you might have heard or seen this one floating around tumblr as its one of the really big, really popular anime to have come out that features a trans main character written and presented in a positive light.

Zombieland Saga is both a satirical parody of Idol anime, a complete embracing of what makes idol anime enjoyable, and a criticism of how the Idol industry treat women and young girls. A lot of the girls in the idol group are the complete opposite of what is considered a “good Idol” from one girl being trans, one girl having been an Oiran many many years ago (a historic proffession for women where they play instruments, perform tea ceremonies and entertain paying guests. As well as being very high class prostitutes) as well as debating and comparing the ideal of an Idol as they were seen in the 80s versus the modern interpretation.

Zombieland Saga is at both times the complete antithesis of everything an Idol anime should be, while also being one of the best examples of the genre at the same time. It also features really well written characters with emotional depth and arcs to them and boasts a lot of good humour to boot.

Yuru Camp△  (2018)

Another “Cute Girls Doing Cute things” anime

While the perfect getaway for most girls her age might be a fancy vacation with their loved ones, Rin Shima's ideal way of spending her days off is camping alone at the base of Mount Fuji. From pitching her tent to gathering firewood, she has always done everything by herself, and has no plans of leaving her little solitary world. However, what starts off as one of Rin's usual camping sessions somehow ends up as a surprise get-together for two when the lost Nadeshiko Kagamihara is forced to take refuge at her campsite. Originally intending to see the picturesque view of Mount Fuji for herself, Nadeshiko's plans are disrupted when she ends up falling asleep partway to her destination. Alone and with no other choice, she seeks help from the only other person nearby. Despite their hasty introductions, the two girls nevertheless enjoy the chilly night together, eating ramen and conversing while the campfire keeps them warm. And even after Nadeshiko's sister finally picks her up later that night, both girls silently ponder the possibility of another camping trip together.

Rascal Does Not Dream of Bunny Girl Senpai (2018)

You’re gonna look at this gif and that title and think this is some Light-Novel sexy fantasy wish fullfillment bullshit, but I absolutely assure you it’s not.

The rare and inexplicable Puberty Syndrome is thought of as a myth. It is a rare disease which only affects teenagers, and its symptoms are so supernatural that hardly anyone recognizes it as a legitimate occurrence. However, high school student Sakuta Azusagawa knows from personal experience that it is very much real, and happens to be quite prevalent in his school. Mai Sakurajima is a third-year high school student who gained fame in her youth as a child actress, but recently halted her promising career for reasons unknown to the public. With an air of unapproachability, she is well known throughout the school, but none dare interact with her—that is until Sakuta sees her wandering the library in a bunny girl costume. Despite the getup, no one seems to notice her, and after confronting her, he realizes that she is another victim of Puberty Syndrome. Mai’s unapproachability and air of not wanting to interact with people has manifested that it is now borderline impossible for people to physically notice her. Or in some cases see her at all. As Sakuta tries to help Mai through her predicament, his actions bring him into contact with more girls afflicted with the elusive disease.

Bunny Girl Senpai is an anime that deals with Societal pressures, especially as they apply to teenagers, as well as being a criticism of the Japanese mentality of “not rocking the boat” and in dutifully conforming and falling in line with what society dictates is “proper behavior”. It has the running theme that this mentality of just accepting the way things are and not doing anything to change it is unhealthy, and does more harm than good.

Dororo (2019) (warning for violence and Gore)

A samurai lord has bartered away his newborn son's organs to forty-eight demons in exchange for dominance on the battlefield. Yet, the abandoned infant survives thanks to a medicine man who equips him with primitive prosthetics—lethal ones with which the wronged son will use to hunt down the multitude of demons to reclaim his body one piece at a time, before confronting his father. On his journeys the young hero encounters an orphan who claims to be the greatest thief in Japan. 

An anime adaptation of one of Osamu Tezuka’s manga, but deciding to go for an updated, darker art style to match its mature tone.

Dororo is currently still airing but so far reviews are extremely high.

Anyway I hope those are enough to give you at least one new show to check out.

#Anime #recommendations #long post #gif heavy

[illuminating-the-darkness]

Fruit:

Fruit is a vessel by which the seeds of plants attempt to embed themselves into fecal matter through the digestive tract of animals in order to improve the chances of growing in good moist soil and also insuring that the animal spreads the seed far from the parent plant as the animal is likely to excreet at a distance from its food source, to do this fruit has to have a pleasing taste so that animals will want to eat it and as such most fruit is full of natural sugars making most of them sweet to the taste however others are more bitter or juicy enough to provide hydration, interestingly some give off spices in an attempt to defend themselves against being eaten. Fruits tend to be high in vitamins, natural minerals and benefitial chemicals. Fruits usually grow on trees, bushes and vines. The following is a partial list of fruits:

-Some fruits are poisonous, this will be dealt with in later posts.

Apple:

Apples are rounded fruit that can be yellow, green, red or pink or some combination of these colours. Apples are sweet and moist to the taste although some can be slightly bitter. Apples are produced by Apple Tree’s which are members of the rose family. Apples have soft interiors of white-green flesh and a hard central core containing seeds, the leftover cores become the bed for the seeds within when a new tree grows. Apples begin to grow in Spring and mature in Autumn. Apples have a long association with witchcraft from their depictions in fairytales such as the poison Apple in snow white to the theological depictions of Apples as the fruit of knowledge in the garden of Eden, making Apples in turn a symbol of knowledge and curses in fact the Latin word for Apple is “Malus” which has influenced the English language as “Malice” meaning “to do evil”. In the Paganism of ancient Greece, Apples were also depicted as golden immortality bestowing fruits guarded by the Earth Goddess Gaia’s own dragons and one carved with an inscription designed to provoke a fued amongst Goddesses was used by the Goddess of chaos Eris in an event which sparked the Trojan war. Apples are Venus ruled fruits with many associations with the Goddess including love, fertility and pregnancy, a slices Apple also reveals the five pointed star pattern associated with Venus and Apple tree leaves and flowers are also five pointed, staring into the centre of a cut Apples core can be used in divination practices. Apples once fermented produce alcoholic cider. Apples scents are associated with love and fertility in inscence. Apples have a number of medical uses, Apples can clean the teeth, improve blood sugar levels, reduce stomach acidity, neutralise gout, lower cholesterol, help to purify water when mixed, sooth fever and the crushed leaves can prevent infection when applied to fresh wounds as can Apple cider vinegar which can also help sore throats.

Apricot:

Apricot is a fleshy peach-orange coloured round fruit bearing a central pip or stone which is its seed. Apricots grow on Apricot trees and have short seasons of maturing in early Spring. Apricots prefer warm climates. Apricots taste either sweet or tart and are not very juicy. Apricots are associated with Venus for their five pointed flowers and as such Apricots are associated with love, fertility, beauty, art and attraction. Apricots are most specifically associated with pregnancy due to the pip/kernal in their centre representing a baby within the womb they can therefore be used to promote fertility and health in pregnancy or as Curse effigies in attempting to cause miscarriages. The wooden kernal can also be carved for use in amulets or as runestones. Apricots are thought to be able to reduce tumours when refined as an oil salve. Apricots are also used for their juices in cosmetic skin care. Apricots also have antioxidant effects when ingested which is good for heart disease and diabetes treatments.

Avocado:

Avocados are a tropical and Mediterranean fruit that grows on trees. Avocados are pear shaped or spherical and have dark green almost ribbed, hard cortex’s which soften and brown with ripeness. The inner flesh of an Avocado is a soft light green-cream colour. Avocados prefer warm enviroments with little to no wind, lots of water and require well aerated soil. Avocado can cause allergic reactions in people with allergies and is poisonous to some animals however to humans the fruit tastes savoury. Avocados have a central kernal and like all fruit which has this characteristic the Avacado therefore represents pregnancy and is related to fertility and child birth, this means that it can also be used as a curse effigy in attempting to cause miscarriage. The wooden kernal can also be carved for use in amulets or as runestones. Avocados are good for the heart and blood and contain chemicals which are good for the eyes they are also high in benefitial fats.

Banana:

Bananas are long curved yellow, red or purple fruits that grow in clusters on Banana plants often mistaken for trees. Bananas are somewhat crescent shaped and as such have a slightly phallic apperance. Bananas are green before ripening and turn brown or black when over ripe. Bananas are soft and have a creamy yellow-white, red, purple or brown interiors under their peel. Bananas have a sweet moist taste. Bananas grow in tropical climates. Bananas can be fermented to make alcoholic wines and beers. Due to their high levels of potassium Bananas generate minuet amounts of radioactivity. Banana peels can be used to extract heavy metals from contaminated river waters, when powdered and used for filtration by mixing over 45 minuets, up to 65% of heavy metals can be removed from the water this process can also be repeated for further purification. In some cultures such as in Thailand and Indonesia Bananas are believed to be inhabited by certain ghosts and spirits. Banana fibers and bark can be used to make paper and can be boiled and worked into fibres while Banana leaves are waterproof. Due to its crescent and phallic shape Bananas are associated with the moon and with fertility particularly in cures meant to prevent impotence and thus Bananas are sometimes associated with masculine energy. Bananas are also associated with luck and fortune. Bananas can be used as food medicine in the treatments of diabetes, hypertension, cancer, ulcers, diarrhoea, urolithiasis, Alzheimer's and infections. Bananas can also be used for slight pain relief and the leaves or peels can be used to dress wounds.

Bell Pepper:

Bell Peppers are large slightly cubic shaped fruits which come in green, orange, red, yellow, purple and white colours. Although commonly thought of as vegetables Bell Peppers are actually berries. Bell Peppers prefer warm climates and moist soils. Bell Peppers have a slightly sweet but savoury juicy taste and are mostly hollow, Bell Peppers have a central lump of flesh with many small spicy yellow seeds attached to it, the walls of the Pepper are cut into slices or chunks when used in cooking. Bell Peppers contain chemicals which help the eyes and also reduce blood clotting, they also lower cholesterol and help to protect against cancers. Bell Peppers are also good for improving memory and promoting weight loss.

Blackberry:

Blackberries are small round purple-black berries which grow on thorny tangling bramble shrubs. Blackberries appear as though composed of lots of smaller berries as they have a bumpy surface of round juicy blobs in a spherical cluster that make up the berry as a whole. Blackberries contain red-purple juices which can be used as dyes. Blackberries have a sweet taste and can be fermented to produce alcoholic wine and cider, blackberries are also often ground or cooked into jellies and jams. While Blackberries are often harvested in Summer and Autumn but there are folklores that suggests fey and other spirits putrify Blackberries in mid October, this is because colder wet weather promotes molds in the fruit which may be toxic. Because Blackberry brambles are vine like and barbed they can be used in binding spells and curses, bramble thorns are often used in effigy cursing where the effigy is pierced by the thorn in an attempt to cause pain to the victim the effigy represents. Being member of the rose family and having five pointed white or pink flowers Blackberries are associated with Venus all be it with the dark side of the Goddess, this means that Blackberries take on association with love and fertility. Blackberries are effective barriers as their tightly-knit and barbed vines are difficult to pass through this means that smudge stricks made from the twigs are effective at creating spiritual barriers from the belief that as it is physically difficult to pass through so is its essence spiritually hard to pass through, this also means brambles symbolise protection. Blackberries are especially good for the liver and kidneys. The chewed leaves of Blackberries and the shoots brewed into teas can be used to treat mouth ailments such as sores. Tea made from bramble root, bark and leaves is also used in treating coughs. The bramble leaves and root can also be used to treat stomach and intestine problems such as diarrhoea. Bramble leaves also have antibacterial properties and can be used to clean wounds, they also have a cooling effect on burns and skin disorders. Blackberries are also thought to relieve menstrual issues such as period cramps.

Blackcurrant:

Blackcurrants are small spherical black berries that grow on flowering marshland shrubs. Blackcurrants taste sweet and are commonly used to create jams and jellies. Blackcurrants produce deep deep purple juices which can be used to make blue or purple dyes and when fermented produce alcohol cider. Blackcurrants rippen in midsummer and can be harvested through till late Autumn. The Blackcurrant shrub produces strong aromas which can make it useful in producing incenses. The entire Blackcurrant plant can be used to produce teas which are good for promoting blood flow, helping the immune system as well as promoting eye, gut and kidney health and may reduce risk of diabetes. Blackcurrants are full of antioxidants which are good for treating heart and brain diseases and has cosmetic applications in promoting healthy skin for anti-aging treatments. Blackcurrants can also soothe sore throats and treat flu symptoms. Blackcurrant leaves are antimicrobial, anti-inflammatory, antiviral, antitoxin, antiseptic and provide treatment of cancer. Since Blackcurrants have anti-inflammatory properties they can also be used to treat pain, stiffness, soreness and reduce joint and musclar pains. Blackcurrant seed oil can also treat menstrual issues and relieve period cramps. Blackcurrant leaves are diaphoretic and diuretic promoting urination and relief for constipation when made into teas and drunk they are also good for the nerves and nervous system related ailments.

[galfridus1]

Happy Birthday Hexxe!!

Happy Birthday @penumbrcge! It has been so great getting to know and work with you for the past few months. You’re a wonderful person and a truly talented writer. I’m so happy to be able to call you a friend.

@thestarrynightgazer and I collaborated on a present, set in the universe you created in Glitter & Gold (and I am so glad you liked the fic). Kat did this amazing art.

Hope you have an amazing day! This is called Home - thanks for the title Kat!

It is grey: cloudy, drizzly and dank, the day so drab and devoid of sunlight that not even the bright reds and golds of autumn can cheer it up. With a sigh, Moth moves away from the window of the comfortable room she knows she has become too attached to. It is her sanctuary, her place of calm, and she feels her disappointment keenly as her eyes alight on the blobs of blue tac fixed to the wall, the half-empty bookcase and the flimsy, paper calendar sitting on top of the desk, today’s date circled in a warning of red.

She should be glad, excited, thrilled now that she is finally, officially an actual teenager. Most of her peers would no doubt celebrate their thirteenth birthdays in style, with sleepovers, trips to the cinema, maybe even a theme park. But then they had parents, she reminds herself as she accidentally catches sight of her reflection ghosting the window pane and quickly turns away. The plastic bag she is holding rustles with the movement and she resumes her task, her heart sinking as she moves to the wardrobe, pulling clothes from their hangers and stuffing them away in handfuls. She knows she should fold them carefully, that this will make more space, but she just cannot make herself do it.

And pack up she must, for it is not only her thirteenth birthday, it is also eighteen months to the day since she first came to live with Derieri and Monspeet. The kindly foster parents had taken her in, giving her space, leaving her alone, seeming not to mind her sullen, lacklustre replies to any question they put to her. After several weeks she had felt comfortable enough to join Derieri on the couch, the woman quickly changing whatever she had been watching on Netflix with a guilty look. They had spent the rest of the evening plonked in front of the TV, her foster mother making snide remarks about the endless Disney movies they mainlined, her snark enough to bring Moth to giggles.

And now, once more, it is time for the dreaded plastic bags. Every time she changes home, Moth stuffs her possessions into black bin liners, so that now she is an expert in the art. She has learned how to balance the load so the flimsy material does not stretch and snap, how to wrap her books in blankets so their sharp corners do not pierce the sides. This is what she now does, retrieving a jacket which has fallen to the floor and carefully placing it around the few volumes she has not yet stowed away.

As she finishes her task she straightens up, feeling the muscles in her back protest slightly, wondering what she will find when she starts her next placement. It will be her fifth since her parents died, and she flushes slightly, irritation ticking under her skin. How can she not be aware that, on average, children only stay in foster care for three years, and that the longer she remains in it the less likely she will leave? No adoption, no permanency, she will just age out of the system trudging her plastic bags from one house to another.

The memory of her face in the window causes her to grit her teeth. She has no mirror in her room, hating the sight of her own reflection, but she does not need one to see the dark hair which frames her pale face, her smoke grey eyes and thin lips. Perhaps if she looked more sunny, more playful, more girly then she would not now be packing away her worldly possessions, but she point blank refuses to test the hypothesis. She is Moth: she will go through life as her own person, and will not change for anyone.

But her resolution does not make the process easier. With a sigh, she grabs the three bags in her fists and starts to haul them all downstairs, feet tromping as she makes her way to the lounge. The house is eerily quiet and it is then she realises that the television is off, which catches her by surprise. Even when no one is watching it, it is generally left on as background noise.

It is with even more surprise that she hears an unfamiliar voice floating into the room from the kitchen. “I am so pleased to be able to give you this news. Sorry it has taken so long.”

“No problem.” Monspeet sounds suave, calm, his deep voice soothing. “We understand that you have to be careful.”

“I hate it honestly, particularly when have to do it to foster parents who are already looking after the child. But, rules are rules,” the voice continues more cheerfully. “And you passed all the checks. The court hearing is scheduled for next week, but it’s merely a formality at this point.”

“It’s not! She might not want it you… she might not want it,” Derieri mutters and, despite her growing curiosity Moth fights to suppress a giggle. It always is fun listening to her foster parent try not to swear.

“We haven’t mentioned anything to her yet,” Monspeet explains, “in case it fell through. But we’ll talk to her tonight. Thanks very much for coming to tell us in person.”

“No problem!” There is the scraping of chairs as they are pushed back from the table and the chink of china as cups are collected. Moments later, Monspeet emerges from the kitchen ushering before him a young lady Moth has never set eyes on before, an official-looking lanyard swinging round her neck. Instinctively she shrinks back against the wall, but Monspeet smiles at her reassuringly as he sees the woman out.

As the door clicks shut Derieri yells, “What an ass! I oughta…”

“Hello Moth,” Monspeet calls rather loudly, Derieri falling silent in an instant. Before long, the blonde emerges from the kitchen, and Moth has to bite her lip not to bark out a laugh. Derieri is wearing a very smart jacket and skirt, the edges of a frilly blouse poking out from the cuffs, the outfit making her look older than usual and closer to her actual age. The sight is so incongruous that Moth cannot help but stare, a smirk catching the corner of the other’s mouth in response.

“We’ve got some things to discuss with you,” Monspeet declares and Derieri grabs her hand, leading her to the couch. The cushions give as they all sit down, and she registers the warmth of Derieri’s hand as it stays round her own.

Monspeet pauses, his lips pressed together as he stares into the distance. Moth waits, taking short short, shallow breaths, heart thrumming in her chest until finally the man says, “That was someone from the child protection service.” And at once she is angry, eyes burning in her head as she works hard to maintain her composure. Derieri must have noticed the way her whole body goes rigid, and the hand holding hers squeezes her tight.

“S’nothing to worry about,” Derieri says flatly, “she came to tell us we’ve been approved for adoption. So how’s about it?” she adds without ceremony, though Moth can hear a slight tremor to her voice. “You want to stay here? With us?”

“We did not want to tell you until we were sure it would be allowed,” Monspeet continues into the ringing silence and Moth wonders when she has ever heard him talk so much. “You don’t have to say yes of course, but… think about it would you? We’re very fond of you, and we’d love you to make your home here with us.”

Moth stares at him, her eyes flicking to the woman at her side and then back again. Her throat burns uncomfortably as tears pool in her eyes, and she swallows hard, saliva pushing painfully past the lump in her throat. She struggles for words, but her larynx has shut down, so she flings her arms around Monspeet’s neck, hugging him fiercely before doing the same to Derieri.

How much time passes she does not know, but when she breaks apart she sees Monspeet standing over her, black bin liners in hand. “I’ll take these back upstairs, shall I?” he asks, head cocked slightly to one side, moving away as Moth gives a grateful nod. “And we’ll buy you a suitcase,” he adds acerbically as he wrinkles his nose. “Never understood why they don’t give those to children in care.”

“Wait!” Moth calls as he starts to move away. He stops and she springs to her feet and darting towards him, rummaging around in the fullest of the bags. “Here,” she says shyly as she pulls out a carefully wrapped parcel, dark grey ribbon tied around it in a neat bow, thrusting it into his hands. “It was a leaving present…” Without needing to be asked, Derieri is at her side and wraps an arm round her shoulder.

Eyebrows raised, Monspeet begins to unwrap the gift, taking care to remove the sellotape in a way that does not damage the paper as Derieri clicks her tongue impatiently. He removes the box, opening the lid and pulling out an apron. His mouth twists in a smile as he unfolds the cloth to see the words Kick The Cook written on in permanent marker.

“I’d best go make use of this. We’ve got a birthday to celebrate,” he murmurs as he ruffles Moth’s hair before tying the garment around his waist. A rustling sounds and Moth turns to see Derieri now holding the bags.

“Come on, I’ll help you unpack,” she huffs and, without waiting for an answer, she heads up the stairs, Moth grinning from ear to ear as she follows behind.

#nnt #moth #derieri #monspeet #monderi #fanfiction #art by thestarrynightgazer #HAPPY BIRTHDAY HEXXE!! #have a wonderful day!

[linssikeittomies]

The Place Between Here And There - An Excerpt From Ch 8

Masterpost

I disappeared without a single sign of life for a long while, but chapter 8 is underway! I’ve been struggling with writer’s block but it might finally be lifting. @freakyfeline has been helping me out with grammar, sentence structure and such. Ch 8 will have emotions running high! Fights! Fluff! Romance! Here’s some astronomy nerds stargazing.

--

If they weren’t in the city, they could see the stars really well. It was a cloudless night, and the moon was only a crescent, so the snow wouldn’t reflect too much light. It had been a while since he last saw a proper night sky. “Hey, wanna go stargazing?” Vanya put down his notebook and looked surprised. Yeah, Al didn’t come across as the outdoors type, and honestly he mostly wasn’t, but every now and then some wholesome outdoorsy goodness was just what he needed. And stargazing was basically the most romantic thing ever. Never mind that you had to drive out real far from the city to get a good view, and that it got stupid cold in the winter at night, but seeing the Milky Way while cradled in the arms of your lover just couldn’t be topped in the romance department. “Alright. We could try Aster park, it doesn’t have many trees.” “No, no, we gotta drive way out into the boondocks. Trust me, it’s worth it.” “Are you sure you want to? Have you ever even been camping?” “Hell yeah. I lived in the middle of a desert for a year, I know what isolation is. You?” A flash of discomfort crossed Vanya’s face before he answered. Was he really that afraid of spontaneity? Or was this another case of his mind working all backwards? You’d think he’d jump at the chance to get away from civilization, what with his hatred of humanity, but maybe he only liked being alone in a crowd? “We used to play in the woods every now and then when we were little, but it isn’t quite the same as a desert. Being so far away does not sound like a good idea. What if something happens?” “Vanya, baby, nothing’s gonna happen! We just drive out, stay for a while, and then drive back. I’ll keep you safe.” “I will consider it if you can find a pharmacy there that carries an antidote for snake poison”, Vanya claimed, but in reality it seemed like he was warming up to the idea. He was smiling, at least, and the objection was said in a teasing tone. “I promise, it’s gonna be the one of the best nights of your life.” “I will hold you responsible, should either of us die.” “Fine by me! We should get driving right away if we want to get back before morning. Put on your warmest clothes, it’s gonna be freezing.” “What? Now?” “Yeah, now.”

For a few seconds Vanya looked alarmed. He didn’t like surprises, because he liked everything nice and planned beforehand, so his life could be as boring and predictable as possible. But despite his concern, the thought intrigued him, so it didn’t take much more convincing to get him dressed. Al borrowed a coat from him, since his bomber jacket wasn’t meant for prolonged cold. Ivan also offered fur hats for them both, but Al convinced him to leave the ridiculous things home. Why did he even have them? No city in the state had cold enough winters for them. On the way, Vanya got steadily more nervous as they went on. He’d never been far from a city, he said, and he hadn’t realized how dark it got. He had expected it to be more like the city, where streetlights didn’t allow for real darkness. He denied being scared, but from the way he struggled to keep his voice unaffected and how he steadfastly kept his eyes on the road ahead, and most of all how he started leaning more and more towards Al the further they got, Al called bullshit. He wanted to tease Vanya about it, but the Russian could get really touchy at times, so instead Al just took one of Vanya’s hands in his own. It must have helped somewhat, since Vanya started taking more part in Al’s monologuing, and it got halfway to being dialogue. He  even stayed relatively calm when Al took the car off the main road and started navigating whatever tiny dirt roads he found. If he’d been alone, he could’ve spent the whole night just driving along, not caring where he ended up and only worrying about how to get home once he felt like going home. However, with Vanya fretting about finding their way back, he didn’t want to scare the man further and so stopped the car at the first turnout they happened upon. “Isn’t it a great view? Aren’t you glad we came all the way here?” “This is exactly the type of place people get murdered in”, Vanya mumbled in response, but the way his eyes were glued to the skies revealed that the scales were tipped in favor of the stars. Al settled on his back on the ground and beckoned Vanya to join him. Vanya settled his head on Al’s chest, still nervous. Even through the thick layers, he thought he could feel Vanya’s heart thumping. Maybe it was just imagination, but he still soothingly petted Vanya’s back. It felt odd being the one comforting the other, when Vanya was a head taller and about 40 lbs. heavier. It should’ve been Al curling up in Vanya strong arms and being protected. Not that he was the type, there were very few things he was scared of, and murderers weren’t one of those. He could K.O. any bad guy who had the brilliant idea of coming after him. Ghosts were another matter, but they weren’t real, so who cared? “We’re the only people for miles.” “I can’t even see anything. It’s so dark.” “Not even the stars? Babe, I think you’ve gone blind.” Vanya snorted at the stupid joke. It couldn’t be that he found it actually funny, it was just his nerves. Some more reassuring was in order. “Don’t you worry about anything. I’ll keep you safe, darling.” “Thank you.” Vanya was probably blushing. It was too dark to see, but his voice was subdued and embarrassed. “Look, there’s the Big Dipper”, Al said and pointed at the sky. Ursa Major was almost right above them. He had learned to recognize most of the constellations visible in the northern hemisphere a long time ago – his father was a space enthusiast, and Al had picked up on the hobby very early. His dad was a star man, while Al grew up to become more interested in planets. “The stars that make it are called Alkaid, Mizar, Alioth, Megrez, Phecda, Merak and Dubhe”, Vanya informed, not knowing Al knew the names of most stars in the zodiac. “Wow, I didn’t know you were into astronomy!” “I don’t have much time for it these days, but I was always interested in space. I think every child is at some point in their life.” “Have you heard about the giant blob of water just floating around in space?” “The one orbiting a quasar, who hasn’t?” Vanya answered arrogantly. “Do you know about Kepler-452b?” If he was looking to challenge Al, he was up for a serious competition! “Sure, it was huge news! It’s a shame the star it orbits is too dim to see with the naked eye. We could’ve searched for it.” “It would be difficult to find it, there are so many stars”, Vanya said, his voice was full of awe. Al wished he could see his face, it was rare to see Vanya with any other expression than calculated calmness and small smiles. With that kind of voice, he had to be staring up at the sky in absolute wonder. “I can’t even find Cassiopeia, and it’s one of the first I learned.” “You’ll find it eventually, love. Straight down from Dubhe”, Al reminded, and even pointed a helpful finger towards the constellation. It was one of the easiest ones to find, thanks to the stars that made the W-shape being some of the brightest in the sky. There were also a bunch of fainter stars in the constellation, but not a lot of people even knew that. Most thought it was just the five. Vanya probably wasn’t one of those people. “I know that much”, Vanya scoffed, offended that Al thought he was that unfamiliar with the night sky. “I’ve just never seen this many stars, I can’t see the forest for the trees.” Al saw the opportunity for a great joke. It might even help Vanya relax some more. He was already doing great, he’s been so scared to come out in to the middle of nowhere, populated only by tiny-ass dirt roads with no lights anywhere, and yet there he was. Nestled comfortably in Al’s arms, breathing calmly,  not even glancing around frantically. “Wow, the stars are so beautiful”, Al started, snickering. “I’m still certain that we will be leaving this place in bodybags, but I must agree”, Vanya answered, also with a light chuckle. “Know who else is beautiful?” “Many people”, Vanya mumbled darkly, probably thinking along the lines of not me, and possibly I will find them all and eliminate them. “Which one are you thinking of?” “No, no, you’re supposed to say who, and then I say me.” Because Al didn’t dare say anyone else’s name like the meme required, after the reaction Kyle had elicited from Vanya. “Oh, it is a joke of some sort. I see.” Vanya sounded a tiny bit relieved. Next time Al would play it straight, Vanya really needed a boost in self-confidence, despite having the best skin Al had ever seen in real life and wonderful proportions, not to mention his hair was the silkiest thing on Earth. Maybe he could’ve used a little bit of muscle definition, but on the other hand, the soft teddy-bear looked fit him to a T. Al couldn’t have pulled it off, he needed to be lean because his aura was completely different from Vanya’s. “Why the hell do you even have internet? You didn’t even know what does the fox say!” “I don’t have time for memes, Fredya. They are meaningless.” “You can pronounce Megrez but not meme?” “I can also pronounce Arcturus.” Oooooh, the uppity snob! Like he was any better at English than Al was at Latin! Stupid Vanko-sounding walking stereotype. “No wonder, I’ve tried listening to Russian and I’m convinced it’s just people hissing at random.” “Hush, lyubimiy”, Vanya laughed and snuggled up a little closer to Al’s face. So even if the joke had failed, it had reached its goal of relaxing Vanya further. Al kissed the top of his head, glad that Vanya had decided to forgo the stupid fur hat. As funny as it would have been, it wouldn’t have fit the romantic atmosphere. “Vanya, say something in Russian.” “Would you like me to hiss something specific at you?” “Nah. Feel free to profess your undying love to me or whatever. I just like to hear you talking in tongues.” Al only spoke English and a few words of Spanish, thanks to his brother-in-law. Almost all of those words were cusses. “I will call you a little poopy-pants brat”, Vanya snickered. Knowing him, he totally would. “Aww, c’mon”, Al play-whined. Vanya chuckled against his neck and thought for a little while. When he spoke again, it sounded like he was reciting a poem or something. “Sredi mirov, v mertsanii svetil, odnoy zvezdy ya povtoryayu imya… Ne potomu, chtob ya yeyo lyubil, a potomu, chto ya tomlyus' s drugimi. I yesli mne somnen'ye tyazhelo, ya u neyo odnoy ishchu otveta, ne potomu, chto ot neyo svetlo, a potomu, chto s ney ne nado sveta.” Poems under the stars. Vanya really had a knack for romance, he should let it show more often. Intimacy was a little scary for him, so he liked to play it cool and keep his distance. It was nice that he was slowly coming out of his shell, even if Al was getting impatient with how little physical contact there was in their relationship compared to the previous ones he’d had. ”That was nice. Got any more?” ”Mne nuzhno vremya podumat'.” ”I have no idea what you just said, but it was hot.” “Spasibo. Ya sdelayu vse vozmozhnoye, chtoby poradovat' vas.” “I wish I knew foreign languages.” “You have the time to study one”, Vanya lectured, like Al didn’t already have his hands full with his hobbies. It was easy for Vanya to say, he already knew English. He had forgotten how energy-draining learning something new was. “Hey, you were supposed to only talk Russian. I’ll let it slide if you say something romantic.” “Alright. Ya ne zasluzhivayu tebya v svoyey zhizni, no ya rad, chto vstretil tebya. Ya nikogda ne khochu rasstavat'sya s toboy. Ya khotel by vyrazit' svoyu blagodarnost' luchshe.” “Everything sounds so smooth when it comes out of your mouth.” “Vot klassika: Ya vas lyubil - lyubov' yeshche, byt' mozhet, v dushe moyey ugasla ne sovsemyu no pust' ona vas bol'she ne trevozhit - ya ne khochu pechalit' vas nichem. Ya vas lyubil bezmolvno, beznadezhno, to robost'yu, to revnost'yu tomim - ya vas lyubil tak krenno, tak nezhno, kak day vam bog lyubimoy byt' drugim.” “I bet you’d make a good singer.” “I’m afraid I am a better dancer than singer. I can carry a tune but anything more is beyond me.” “Really? We should go dancing some time, tear up the dance floor.” “Not that kind of dancing. I meant ballroom and ballet.” “You? Ballet?” Al asked astonished. Ballroom he didn’t bat an eye at, but a ballerina needs to be able to support his own weight on his toes. Vanya would need to weigh about half his current weight to do that. “I know, I don’t have the body type for it”, Vanya agreed begrudgingly. “The stereotypes just keep piling up”, Al laughed. He pictured Vanya doing pirouettes with those funny little ballet shoes and crashing through the floor. “Don’t ever change, babe.” They spent an hour spotting constellations and talking about all the distant planets and stars they had heard of until Al got too cold. In the car Vanya got started on about nebulas, and how in elementary school he had been so jealous of a classmate who had his bedroom walls covered in posters of them that he had emptied ten elmer’s glue bottles in the boy’s backpack. He hadn’t been caught, so he had repeated the trick the next semester. He had planned a third hit, but then the boy had transferred due to his mother remarrying a man in another city. Who knew, baby Vanya had been a little rascal!

#freakyfeline #hereandthere #wip scene #tease #fan fiction #hetalia #russiaxamerica #RusAme #AmeRus #linssifanfiction #WIPtale

[icespur]

It AU:Look What I Found Ideas

I write stories, not many of my stories are online yet though, cause hardly any of my stories are finished! But I write stories of the current fandoms I’m in, and now I’m obsessed with IT 2017 and Pennywise

And I have some story ideas I’m working on, I’ve bothered and mentioned my ideas in reblog comments but now that I figured out how to post I can actually tell you my ideas here!

So here’s one of my IT AU story ideas

The story is called “Look What I Found” and it’s a alternate timeline of when Pennywise came to earth, in the book he came to earth in a asteroid and crashed years ago and then became active when human civilization was built.

Well in here he still comes to earth the same way, BUT——-

He’s an egg....

The asteroid has the egg inside and when the asteroid crashes on earth it cracks open revealing the unscathed egg.

Years go by, creatures die, new creature born, Humans come in. The egg sits in the background as life goes on until in 1988 October when a little 7 year old child loses his paper boat in a sewer gutter, he’s too small to reach it and his parents would kill him if he were to go down into a dirty old sewer. So he has no choice but to go home and break the news to his older brother that he lost his boat, his brother tells him that he’ll look for it for him tomorrow and not to worry.

The next day Bill and his friends go down into the sewers to look for the missing paper boat, they eventually find it—— along with a mysterious black egg.....

Eddie is hesitant and says that they should ignore it but curiosity gets the better of them, thinking this egg is some “new discovery” or maybe it’s a real life dragon egg! So they take the egg with them

Oh boy was that a bad idea.

It seems the more the egg develops the more creepy sh*t it does

* At first it randomly glowed, but as time goes on it seems sometimes glowing is tied to it’s emotions... sometimes.

* If you are brave enough (stupid enough) to put your face up to the egg or put the egg up to a light, you will see a bunch of glowing lights, that gets brighter and brighter as time goes on. It wasn’t until a very weird incident at the park where the egg came in contact with a pregnant woman’s belly that may or may not have caused the woman to bleed, that now if you look at the embryo you will see a normal human fetus

*Can hear and mimic music and voices

*Whatever is in there has two glowing yellow orbs for eyes and it’s creepy!

*Georgie seems very attached to it, he talks to it as if it’s alive and can hear him, Bill’s starting to worry if letting Georgie get so close to the egg is safe.

*The losers have contemplated destroying the egg many times and have come very close to crushing it to bits with a hammer but usually Georgie begs them not to and talks them out of it, or the egg letting out human infant sounding cries stopping them.

* Especially once it become clear that the egg is draining life and certain movement of other people’s organs and limbs so it can have working body parts.

*Gets a very concerning childish disturbing glee from the losers fighting or any negative energy in general, making the egg glow revealing the silhouette of a fetus clapping.

*Eventully starts being able to make noises, squeals, squeaks, weird chattering gibberish, etc.

*Not even technically born yet and it already keeps them up at night. 11:00 pm on a school night the children are trying to get a good night sleep all of a sudden the egg starts glowing and rocking back and forth and loud carnival music starts playing on full blast

*Parts of the egg start to crack leaving a hole where it’s yellow eyes can peak out. Everyone is creeped out by this, except for Georgie who happily walked around the entire house with the egg giving it a tour of the Denbrough house

(I have a bunch of different versions of how the hatching scene would play out)

*It’s chaos when the egg hatches, once the storm clears and everyone is able to hold their breath a small baby clown is revealed.

Raising baby Pennywise........

*He’s a a**hole

*Baby-mutant-clown or whatever he is exactly, apparently develop differently then human infants. The first few days nothing seems too out of the ordinary, sleeps a lot, (to the point where Richie and the rest sometimes wonder if he’s dead so they poke him to make sure he’s still alive which upsets him causing him to curl into a furry auburn ball) But then eventually he randomly learns to stand up in his crib and stares at them standing up......at one week old—— normally a baby doesn’t stand up on it’s two legs for a couple months! He’s only a week old!

* Stan bought a “baby month development guide” book and that soon proves to be no help*

*Learns to sit and crawl very early (too stubborn to walk though)*

*Tries to eat and put every possible non edible object in sight in his mouth. Even before he starts teething*

*Georgie and him are still close, he’s like the younger sibling that Bill and Georgie never asked for. Georgie and Penny have become partners in crime and like to harass Bill. But at the same time Penny also sometimes sees Georgie as food and gets very interested in his arms..... luckily it will be a long while til Penny gets teeth*

*Pennywise is very attached to Beverly, sees her as his mom, and acts like a angel only for her. But when she’s not around—-his true nature comes out. Beverly thinks the boys are overreacting when they complain about how much of a little monster he is*

*Can shapeshift But not as well, he’s just a baby so he’s still learning. Only parts of him will shapeshift, like instead of turning into a full werewolf only werewolf ears will sprout on his head, instead of a full spider——only spider legs will sprout from his waist. sneezing and hiccuping affect his shapeshifting hiccups will make him rapidly change forms (like Maui in Moana when he first tries shapeshifting with his hook) and sneezing will cause parts of him to shapeshift “ah, ah, ah, ACHOO” (werewolf ears spring out on top of his head)*

*He can float.......Well, the actual wording for it would be levitate but he refers to it as floating. Which as you can imagine makes baby proofing impossible*

*Speaking of floating, instead of sleepwalking he also “sleep floats” meaning in the middle of the night randomly while fast asleep he will levitate/float out of his crib and around the house, making the losers freak out once they find out he’s not in the crib anymore and so they have to get a butterfly net and chase him around the house and catch him without waking anybody in the house or him up*

*Oh boy, changing diapers———Well first off, baby clown poop and pee smells even worse then normal human baby bodily fluids. In the words of Richie “It smells like something died in there” for the actual changing part sometimes Penny won’t want to sit still and will try to roll off of the changing mat, or he’ll float off the mat and in the air. Other things to worry about is——he can shapeshift, he can change his gender in the middle of a change throwing everyone off, will shapeshift different wieners or will shapeshift multiple wieners so you have multiple wieners spraying pee at you meaning by the time you are done you are going to be soaked in urine*

*his throw up is like acid. One time his tummy wasn’t feeling too good and one of the boys were playing around with him and lifted him up in the air and “BLEGH” all over their shirt. Penny is all happy and smiley now cause he feels all better while the loser is screaming that it burns and that it’s burning through his shirt*

*Eddie has unintentionally become——maybe just a, teeny tiny bit overprotective of Penny——-just a little bit..... Richie always jokes he’s become just like his mom. Eddie gears him with a helmet (that’s way to big and heavy for his head) they go swimming and he goes overboard with putting the swimming gear on him to the point where he’s just a blob of protective swimming gear*

*Since the losers all live in different homes with their own family they all take turns taking Pennywise home for the day, leading to interesting outcomes. Even though Penny is a toddler he catches on quite quickly that Alvin marsh isn’t a good person and quickly dispises him and brings it upon himself to f*ck with him every chance he gets, non of the adults can see penny so Alvin is 100% convinced a ghost baby is trying to kill him. Every time it’s Richie’s day to take Penny home with him penny always comes back with a new curse word, and they all know who probably taught it to him..... eventually Richie is banned from watching Pennywise...... Mike lives on a farm, oh those poor poor animals..... Ben is kinda scared of Pennywise since Pennywise sees Ben as food since he’s so chubby. Penny pokes Ben’s skin fat, and calls him things like “Pig” or Yum” But since Ben is into reasearch and history Ben would probably try to show him all the newspapers and stuff he’s collected, and then have to take them away from Pennywise since whatever you hand to him his first instinct is to shove it in his mouth or chew on it. Ben also would try to do research to find out what the heck Pennywise is exactly, Stan would be too busy with studying for his Bar Mitzvah to play with Pennywise. Although one doesn’t simply ignore Pennywise, when Pennywise wants attention you give Pennywise f***ing attention. Penny would listen to Stan read for a while but then get bored and decide that Stan has read enough for the day and start tearing the pages out of the book much to Stan’s panic and anger*

*Pennywise is very mischievous, all toddlers are mischievous usually. But Pennywise does things intentionally just to get a reaction out of you. He knows he’s not supposed to do it, but he’s gonna do it anyway. In fact saying “No” only seems to encourage him. The words “No” and “Spit that out” have never been yelled so many times with little results. He seems to run on reverse logic “No! Don’t touch that!” Pennywise stares at the loser—- frozen in place with his arm reached out in mid touch of said forbidden object. His eyes flicking looking at the loser, to the object, loser——object, loser——object, touch, no touch, touch, no touch, as if contemplating his next move. Still looking at the loser, Penny slowly extended his hand out, before the loser scolded him again making him freeze, Penny looked at the loser again. The loser shook his head, “No, you don’t do that” Penny mimicked his head movement, shaking his head. The loser nodded “yes, that’s right, “no”” Penny slowly nodded along with him.... and extended his hand again “NO!” Penny shook his head again then nodded and finally make contact with the object, knocking it down and smashing it to a thousand pieces. “Spit that out!” Pennywise slowly shoves the object farther and farther down his mouth with every “No” the losers yell.*

*he eventually learns to talk, can’t say a full sentence but can say some words clearly or if he tries to say a sentence it’s not the full sentence, a couple words unintentionally skipped. “Where going?” Instead of “where are you (or we) going” “Wha doing?” (What are you doing?) etc. Can say all the losers names “Bill” Eddie” “Richie” “Stan” “Ben” “Bev” or “mama” “Mike” and calls Georgie “George” can say “float” of course, can say his full name or short name surpriseingly. “Pennywise” or “Penny” (he’s very proud of his name for some reason)

*In the movie there was going to be a “smoke hole scene” where we would’ve got to see Pennywise coming to earth but due to budget we didn’t get that scene cause it would cause to much cgi. Well in here they don’t have to do a special ritual cause they can just ask Pennywise! Who is happy to tell them except he’s a baby and all that comes out is gibberish since his vocabularie is still very limited so instead he tried to show them by drawing! But he’s a baby and his drawing and coloring skills aren’t that——readable.... so it becomes a guessing game trying to figure out what the heck that drawing is supposed to be.*

*his intelligence is very selectable, he chooses when he wants to do something, and some things just don’t make sense. Like he can write his full name in a style that would make any professional artist jealous but his drawing and coloring is that of a toddler (which does make sense cause he’s a toddler) he likes Henry a lot and calls him “Bow Wow” (bowers, bow wow) Why? Nobody knows. And sometimes calls him Henry but yet for some reason he can’t pronounce Patrick Hocksetters last name and the H turns into a C..... for once Richie did not teach him this but is very proud of him. And one day out of the blue penny started responding to the losers in Swedish...... no one knows why, there isn’t anything Swedish that he was exposed to lately but they now have a Swedish translation dictionary to find out what the heck he’s saying...*

*Always maneges to steal Eddie’s inhaler and then Eddie has to chase him to get it back*

*Loves water. So bath time is a lot of fun, that also mean they gotta keep him from trying to eat the bath products and the water etc..... also has a fascination with the sewers and always tries to go there but of course the losers stop him*

*when penny gets mad he pouts, making his pudgy little cheek puff out and he’ll refuse to look at said person that made him angry and maneuver himself so he’s facing the opposite direction of that person*

#IT 2017 #Pennywise imagines #part 2 cause i ran out of room #Babywise #IT AU #Pennywise HC #The losers did not ask for this #ideas for in progress story #don’t know when i’ll finish it #i hope you all like it

[askbittyerror]

Character list

Bitties:

Current Shop Residents

Error- Error Bitty. Likes chocolate and is gay for Jay. May or may not let you pet him. Has essentially adopted Pax. Adoptable. Description More accurate appearance

Jay- Winged Underswap Sans Bitty, otherwise known as a Baby Bird bitty. Is Luke’s brother. Likes meat and is gay for Error. Will let you pet him. Taller than Error. Adoptable. Appearance and description. 

Luke- Bat winged Underswap Papyrus Bitty, otherwise known as a Little Devil. Is Jay’s brother. Like cherries and is dating Zack. Will let you pet him. Appearance

Zack- Underfell Sans Bitty, otherwise known as an Edgy. Likes peppers and is dating Luke. Will let you pet him, but may bite you a bit.

Ink- Ink bitty. Flamboyant Memelord. Loves pets and any kind of affection. Adoptable. Appearance and Description. Bonus. Important information.

Paladin- Dreamswap Dream Bitty. Is confused and angered by most things. Is totally gay for Bard. Adoptable. Appearance and Description and bonus

Magnus- Dreamswap Nightmare Bitty. Salty. Adoptable Appearance and Description

Rogue- Dreamswap Blueberry Bitty. Tiny evil gremlin. Currently crashed so hard his entire personality has been rewritten. Adoptable. Appearance and description

Fresh- Winged Fresh Bitty. Rogue’s buddy. Appearance Parasitic appearance

Nightshade- Corrupted Nightmare Bitty. Generally grumpy. Probably won’t bite unless provoked but will break your fingers if you get too grabby. Appearance

Thistle: Dream Sans Bitty. Less of a beacon of positivity and more of a puddle of indifference. 100% done with everything ever. Brother and partner of Nightshade. Appearance

Gryph: Winged Undertale Sans Bitty. Was once possessed by Fresh. Jay’s father. Has children with Ghost.

Drake: Bat winged Undertale Papyrus Bitty. Gryph’s brother. Appearance and injuries.

Jack: A Blueberror. Not actually a bitty, just a small swap sans that was blueberrored the canon way. Appearance

Bitties owned by Anya

Char: Fireroyal grillbitty. Catlike. Guards the store and Is mated to Anya. Will let you pet him.

Rammy: A Underswap Asgore bitty. Lives in and cares for the garden outside the center.

Ex: A Cross Lust bitty. Suffering from an eating disorder and likes to dress up. Appearance

Marble: Ghost’s daughter. An adult, but rather small for her age. Brought back from the dead by M!A. Feisty, curious and fascinated by new things. Appearance

Void: A unique bitty. Very childish, naive and impressionable. Likes strawberries. Appearance

Argo: A outertale Sans merbitty. Appearance

Bitties Owned by Zo

Pale: Pale bitty. Consumes creative works for emotions. Entirely dead inside. Appearance

Bard- Dreamswap Ink Bitty. Salty Memelord. Gay for Paladin. Appearance

Aria: Error and Jay’s Daughter. Appearance (child, now grown)

Bitties owned by Dame

Piccolo- Underfell Papyrus Merbitty. Likes gardening. Is mated to Viola. Appearance

Viola- Swapfell Sans Merbitty. Loves jewelry and being spoiled. Bites. Is mated to Piccolo. Non-binary, prefers male pronouns. Appearance

Hemlock- Horror Sans Bitty.  May full on bite, may just nibble. Don’t touch his head. Appearance

Zenith- A Crystal-souled Paladin bitty. Appearance

Bitties owned by Durva

Freya: Undertale Toriel Bitty. Oftentimes the only thing keeping Durva from ripping your throat out. A therapy bitty.

Bitties owned by Moose

Bear: Four foot tall Blaster Error from the times of the Aztecs. Skeleton form

Prey: Fresh Parasite with a preference for large Nightmare bitties. Appearance

Storm: About two and a half feet of Corrupted Nightmare. Appearance

Moon: Four inches of Uncorrupted Nightmare. Star’s brother.

Star: Four inches of Dream. Moon’s brother.

Jam: Fresh bitty with a preference for smaller bitties.

BItties “owned” by Huitzi

Dawn/Dusk: A unusual Dream bitty. Dawns Appearance

Finley: A blind Dream. From the Village.

Lucas: A deaf Dream. From the Village.

Oreo- A Magnus. Has a dead brother named Hershey. Appearance From the Village.

Arthur: A Dream bitty. Experiences frequent hallucinations. Appearance FRom the Village.

Temper: A Corrupted NIghtmare. Arthur’s brother.

Bitties owned by miscellaneous people

Group 1

Elisus (Eli)- Dreamswap Cross Bitty. Protective of Pax. Reference

Pax- Dreamswap Error Bitty. Easily spooked. Love pets and cuddles. Appearance

Template: Template Sans Bitty. Excitable boy. Let him know before touching him. Appearance

Group 2

Mercury: A slighty short corrupted Nightmare. Appearance Bonus and size reference (top left, Jabber 7 inches tall for scale)

Domino: A corrupted Nightmare with a blob of white on his cheek. From the Village.

Licorice: A corrupted Nightmare who is more purple than teal. From the Village.

Jabber: Nex’s brother. An uncorrupted Nightmare. Headshot. Full body sans circlet (on bottom left) From the Village.

Gold: Mercury’s brother. A very small Paladin. 

Beryl: A baby blue. Was Gold and Mercury’s caregiver for a long time and is considered a older sibling.

Group 3

(all grown, only child appearances drawn at this time)

Sunset and Starlight: Two headed Snake-Bird bitty. Daughters of Gryph and Ghost. Appearance

Mist: Snake-Bird bitty. Daughter of Gryph and Ghost. Appearance

Jubilee, Catalin and Camelot: Snake-bird triplets. Sons of Gryph and Ghost. Appearance

Tropic: Snake-Bird bitty. Likes to yell. Daughter of Gryph and Ghost. Appearance

Capri and Cameo: Snake-Bird twins. Paladin adores them. Cameo likes to climb. Son and Daughter of Gryph and Ghost. Appearance

Calico: Snake-Bird bitty. Easily startled. Daughter of Gryph and Ghost. Appearance

Opal: Snake-Bird bitty. Loves hugs and protects Calico. Son of Ghost and Gryph. Appearance

Harlequin: Snake-Bird bitty. Like throwing things/being thrown SAFELY. Daughter of Gryph and Ghost. Appearance

Joshua: Old host of Cheddar. A blank bitty tainted by Fresh magic. Ghost cares for him. Appearance

Group ?

Bubble: A bara baby blue. About the size of a teddy bear. Cuddly.

Moira: Undertale Undyne Bitty. Aggressively affectionate.

Bitties Adopted out of the shop by their Asker

Sometimesanartdragon

Lavender: Gaster Blaster Underswap Sans Bitty. Mel’s original brother. Brought back from the dead. Skeleton Appearance Blaster Appearance

Mel- Underswap Papyrus Bitty. Formerly known as Honey. Has a very negative past with Rogue and is a reformed Asshole. Had a horrific head wound and symptoms of a TBI. Relearning many things.  Appearance and Injury

Dusty- Dusttale Sans Lamia Bitty. Likes bitter foods and eating small live animals. Loves being pet. Venomous. Appearance

Ghost- Dusttale Papyrus Lamia Bitty. Likes fruit gummies. Is terrified of touch. Non-venomous. His skull is cracked, he’s missing his left arm and two fingers on his right hand. Is mated to Gryph and has children. Appearance and Bonus

Blake (named Anon)

Nex: A dream bitty. Reanimated. From the Village. Appearance (on bottom right) 

Seven: A mated pair fused into one Blaster bitty. 

Stray Bitties

Sweet: Fresh’s daughter. A young parasite. Emotionless and currently possessing a blank. Appearance

Cheddar: Fresh’s son. A young parasite. Emotionless and currently possessing a blank. Brought back by M!A after being tortured to death by Rogue. Appearance

Mar: A Reaper Sans bitty. Has a passion for necromancy and is just a little bit demented. Don’t ask where he gets his supplies. Appearance

Atemba: Once human, was executed and resurrected into a bitty body. Mar’s previous owner and Momma.

Geno: Geno bitty. Salty, doesn’t trust biggies. Appearance

Periwinkle: Crystal-souled Corrupted Nightmare bitty. Zenith’s brother. Appearance

Bitties from Dame’s Rehabilitation Center

Aimi: A Frisk bitty. They/them. Appearance

Roo: A Horrortale Papyrus Bitty. Appearance

Darling: An Asriel bitty. Very sweet unless someone tries to leave his side. Appearance

Meatball: A Sansy. An alcoholic and generally apathetic. Appearance

Gil: A Dust Lust Sans. Kind of an ass. A naturally born lust, is on experimental treatments to cure or at least suppress his condition. But as a side effect, instead of getting horny, he just gets angry.

Missy: A very chipper Chara. Speaks dog. (from the Village) Appearance

Min: A very brave Chara. (from the Village)

Blink: A rather tall Chara. (from the Village)

Once bitties

Huitzilopochtli (Huitzi): A ten foot four Paladin who was convinced he was a god reborn. Has since been rehabilitated. From the time of the Aztecs and over five-hundred years old. Has accumulated enough power to be considered something beyond a bitty. Appearance. Proof the mun is thirsty. 

Alternate Multiverse Folk

Flare- Much older Huitzi from another multiverse. Very big (can go from 384ft to 32ft to 7ft) and very powerful. Heavily unstable, functionally immortal with an absurd amount of LOVE and determination. Appearance

Umbra- Human Nightmare, Flare’s adopted son. Very weak

Morris- A big old pile of what the fuck that basically amounts to several million errors shoved into a weird goop sack and shaken around by a batshit Ink for roughly five-hundred years. Bonded to Mo. Eldritch monstrosity. Consists of several groupings of souls working as one cohesive being.

Parts of Morris

Green- 

Biggies (full sized monsters, humans, askers, etc.):

Moose: Dame’s Adopted son. Current owner of the shop. Entirely composed of anxiety.

Anya (Underswap Zoteara): Fluffy dog monster. Owned the adoption center. Appearance

Zo (Undertale Zoteara): Fluffy dog monster. Anya’s Undertale counterpart. Owns Ink, Paladin, Magnus and Template. Was in the royal guard before the barrier fell. Head-shot Appearance, Full body appearance

Dame (Swapfell Zoteara): Fluffy dog monster. Owns Nightshade and Hemlock. Runs a bitty rescue organization, loves children and controls most of the city. Some of her other business practices are… Questionable. Has a fondness for poisons. Appearance

Durva (Underfell Zoteara): Fluffy dog monster. More scruffy than anything. Knows people. Owns Freya.

Ochi: Currently bitty sized deer. Responsible for many, many bitty deaths and is a generally terrible person. Appearance

Gael: Ochi’s brother-in-law. Single father and generally dead inside.

Mēsti: Human, helps out Dame sometimes.

Assorted:

Bitey: Female Pirahna. Viola’s pet. 

Kai: Male ferret. Pax’s buddy.

Kevin: Male chick. Pax’s buddy.

Crayon: Female Leopard Gecko. Pax’s buddy.

K: Male squirrel. Error’s buddy.

If you want to find out more about a specific character, search for their name and ‘info’ on the blog. Example: ‘Rogue Info’ 

#characters #subject to alterations

[pflibteens]

The Cloudman

Thank you to all of the teens that submitted entries into our Teen Short Story Contest. Congratulations to our 1st place winner, Jihan Reyes.

THE CLOUDMAN by Jihan Reyes

The Cloudman did not start out as the Cloudman. He was originally called “the blobfish”, because that’s what he looked like. A big, puffy, pale creature of great disproportion with fins that could sail through the air. His job had been to scare children when he worked for the Man Under The Bed, but he had long since quit, and was now resigned to floating through the vastness of The Subconscious, bedroom to bedroom, child to child. He seldom  made himself seen, for his appearance was (as he had painfully learned), oh, how do I put this? Hideous - - is a fairly accurate word to describe The Cloudman. But I am not here to mock a hero. I am here to tell his tale. The tale began after the Blobfish was kicked out of the room of one Maven Herring by her imaginary friend, Teedums. He decided to go to the house of one of his only friends, Marty the Martian, imaginary friend of Tom Erickson, a young child who was strangely genius, but often failed in social interactions. When the Blobfish arrived in Tom’s room, he noticed that it was oddly quiet. He could usually hear Marty making long strings of alliteration to entertain Tom in his dreams. The Blobfish was grateful for the silence, some time to rest. He sat on the floor and closed his tiny eyes, well squinted was all he could really manage. That was when he noticed the sobbing. He looked to see a lump on the bed, which turned out to be Tom huddled on his pillows, his hands over his ears. The Blobfish looked around expectantly for Marty to arrive, like he always did to soothe Tom. He approached Tom, and asked in a grotesque gurgle, “What's wrong?”. Tom turned to him and the Blobfish remembered too late that unlike Marty, his own appearance would likely scare Tom. But Tom didn’t even flinch when he saw Blobfish. Tom burst out, “He t-took him! He took him! WHY?!” Something was very wrong. “You look like you’re made of clouds. Can you float? Can you float after my friend?” Blobfish was so stunned by this pleasant comparison that he didn’t even answer. Tom continued,“You’re Marty’s friend right? You have to help him! A monster took him! Please Cloudman, save him!”

Cloudman said “How do you see me when I’m here, whether mortals see me is usually my decision.” The boy said “I can see everything, like that ghost floating in the bathroom.”  Cloudman turned to the bathroom, but saw nothing. “You have wings! Fly!”, Tom said pointing to Cloudman’s fins.

“Why should I help you?” Cloudman asked?  Tom stopped crying, wiped his nose, and considered. He said “I’ll be your friend.”, Tom said, “you could use a friend, right? You’re always alone”.

“Really?” Tom nodded and smiled. “Where’d the monster take him?” Cloudman asked.

“In the closet.”

“Why aren’t you afraid of me?”  Tom replied, “Why would I be scared of you, Cloudman? You’re going to save my friend.” At that The Cloudman smiled (or did the closest thing that his malformed mouth could manage), and leaped into closet’s darkness.

As Cloudman soared through the blackness of the closet Subconscious he asked himself  who would kidnap an imaginary friend?  And what monster could have possibly taken down Marty the Martian?  He’d seen Marty slay armies of  dragons to protect his designated child. How could HE, the lowly Blobfish, take down such a beast?  He considered turning back, but . . . a friend!  His very own human friend!  The idea was almost beyond belief.  He caught sight of  the Fortress, and sailed down towards the pitch black castle in the midst of  The Subconscious.

The Cloudman landed at the head of the brimstone Fortress.  A towering splintered door stood in his way. He merely slid his boneless body underneath. There, he was met by Monti the Manticore and Cilos the Cerbereus. Monti’s massive leonine torso was twice the height of the Cloudman. His human face split into a repulsive grin revealing his six rows of  ravenous razor-sharp teeth. He said in a surprisingly friendly voice: “Hey Blobby, how is you?  Been awhile since we seen ya”. Then Cilos chimed in: “I thought youse quit”.  

Cloudman replied evenly “ I did . . .until someone kidnapped my friend”. Cilos growled in a low voice that barely concealed his thuggish diction

“Don’t get involved. It ain’t healthy.”

“Better you should scram” added Monty, spitting out his toothpick.

“Yeah! Swim away, little Blobfish, before youse getcha-self hoit”, chimed in Cilos.

This lit a spark in our hero that could not be put out. “You’ve already hurt me once, but not again. And my name is Cloudman.” he said, propping himself tall on his undermost layer of blob.  “Where’s the martian?” At this, Monty broke out laughing. He tried to speak, and barely managed to choke out: “HA HA HA, you- ha ha- think that youse some kinda HERO?! Haaaaa!” With this he coughed up blood, along with one of his jagged incisors. “Oh, heh heh” he muttered to himself.

This gave Cloudman an idea. He said “That’s right! Answer me now! You know how powerful I am.” He gyrated his giant gelatinous midsection. “Behold my might!” he said.  Now Cilos started laughing - -all but the leftmost pug head of the beast, who merely shook his head, grinning. Monti was on his knees laughing and pounding his paw on the ground. He tried to speak more, but only uttered, “Oh. I’m s-so scared, what’s he gonna do? Eat me? Why he--” Monti never finished his sentence, because right then he flew into a fit of coughing on the floor upon which he knelt . He fell face first, rear in the air,  into a small pool of his own blood and ejected teeth. The manticore was dead; he had choked on his own teeth. That left the cerberus, Cilos, whose faces were blank and stunned. The Cloudman taunted, “Told you I was mighty.”. Cilos leaped forward, digging his jaws into Cloudman's stomach, biting, tearing, and gnawing. He stopped and closed his eyes, expecting a fresh gush of blood on his face, but none came. He looked down to see the Cloudman's stomach completely torn out.  There were no innards. ��No organs. The Cloudman was pure goo. It was like biting a tower of glue, slime, and jello. Then the Cloudman said, “You were the one that gave me that cruel nickname. It’s very fitting. Don’t you know? Blobfish aren’t edible, we’re . . . poisonous”. All six of Cilos’ eyes widened as he collapsed, his left head choking out “You c-can’t save the boy! Let alone his friend.” The Cloudman’s bulging eyes bulged even more as he raced out of the fortress and flew through the Dark.

With a now-lighter body he tore through the air towards Tom’s closet. He arrived and slithered across the floor. There he saw Marty cradling Tom’s sleeping form. Then, Marty turned to The Cloudman, “I love Martian bodies, they’re so easy to live in”. His loving smile mutated into a malicious grin. This wasn’t Marty, but The Man Under The Bed! The Man said “I needed a body that I could use to get close to him with, so that I could cut out his lovely little eyes”. The Cloudman discreetly picked up the closest weapon he could find, a Rubix Cube. If I could just get him into the subconscious, I could imagine it into something.

“And then,” The Man continued, “ his lovely young mind shall be mine!”

The Cloudman said “Why him? What did he do to you?”.

“It’s not what he did, it’s what he could do, he’s very special. Surely you’ve noticed? He can see things that no other can. He could see me and my armies. He could warn the world of my plans. At first I decided to kill him, then I changed my mind. Just imagine what I could do with such power!” Tom woke up. He looked at Marty, unfooled. The Man, enraged with his failure, began to take a swipe at Tom.

“Not this time” The Cloudman said. Then several tragic and heroic things happened: Cloudman jammed the Rubix Cube in his own stomach, then hurled himself at The Man. He wrapped his sticky tendrils around The Man pulling him through the closet door, and they both fell into darkness. Cloudman enveloped The Man in his gel-like body. There would be no escape. Ever.  Clutching the cube, Cloudman imagined a similar sized weapon. He shouted “Grenade!!”, and the Rubix Cube morphed into exactly that. He thought of Tom, his friend, and how and scared he must be. He wished to comfort him.

And then the grenade went off....

The next day Tom’s new imaginary friend arrived. I told him the tale of Cloudman, the monster slayer, the savior of children, the hero.

FIN

#short story #pflugerville library #pflugerville #teen short story contest

[eldritchsurveys]

915.

If you play The Sims, what occupation do you usually choose? >> I don’t have an occupation that I usually choose. I like to try out different ones, especially since you get different aspiration rewards from maxing out different professions. ...Not that I’ve ever gotten any of those, I can’t seem to play Sims consistently enough to actually max anything out.

Do you know any funny acronyms? If so, tell us a few! >> I can’t think of any funny acronyms... what even makes an acronym funny? Is it, like... SPEW from Harry Potter?

Do you always have to listen to music? >> Not always. But often.

What was the last rule you broke? >> I don’t even know what rules I’m supposed to be bound by, aside from, like... the law.

Have you ever apologized to someone, but didn't mean it? >> I don’t think so. I prefer to just not apologise at all, if I don’t actually mean it.

What is the one thing that you can't resist? >> Stories about mortals getting freaky with eldritch abominations.

Have you ever done another persons homework for money? >> No.

Would you rather have the power to heal or to destroy? >> I’m pretty sure I have the power to do either one, considering those are both things humans are capable of doing with the right resources and knowledge. Also, I’m a child of Red and White, so... you know. Choosing one side or the other is never an option.

If you could be any kitchen utensil, which one would you be? >> Why would I want to be a kitchen utensil?

If you were the paparazzi, who would you stalk? >> I would never be a paparazzo.

What would you do if you were literally stuck in a video game? >> It would obviously depend on what video game I was stuck in, wouldn't it...?

If you owned any animal, what gender would you prefer? >> ---

How much would you pay to see what happens after you die while living? >> I wouldn't pay anything. I mean, that's a strange trade, innit? Meaningless human currency given in return for one of the universe's greatest-kept secrets?

Does your pet often jump onto the keyboard? >> ---

Have you ever treated someone like they were nothing? >> I don’t know, maybe.

Do you feel bad when you forget someones birthday? >> Not usually.

Would you ever name two guard dogs Lynyrd and Skynyrd? >> Hell yeah.

Would you name two guard dogs something similar? >> Helter and Skelter would be fun. Or Abbott and Costello. Heh.

If it was the old days, would you challenge your ex to a sword fight? >> No.

Does it frighten you when animals get into fights? >> Not unless I’m somehow in danger.

For guys: Would you give anything to just carry a cute girls books? For girls: Would you do anything to hold a cute boys hand? >> ---

Have you ever witnessed a ghost playing a piano? >> Now that’d be something to see.

Have you ever changed your favorite color? >> I’ve really only had one in recent years.

Have you ever met any kind strangers? >> Yes.

Would you give anything to be in a certain moment in history? >> No.

When you were little did you touch just about everything in the store? >> No. My father was the hitting type, so I tended to keep my hands to myself out of fear if nothing else.

Do you ever leave your drinks out in the open at a party? >> No.

Are you sometimes a bit too nice? >> I’m usually not "nice” enough, by other people’s standards. Which is fine with me, I think too many people conflate being a compassionate and respectful person with being a fucking pushover.

Do you have to be insensitive if you want to survive in the world? >> Actually, I don’t believe this at all. Despite the fact that I was obviously conditioned to be insensitive and emotionally disconnected, myself. I don’t think it’s done me any favours at all. What was supposed to be a protective measure, a defense, just ended up being a millstone around my neck.

Have you ever listened to a song over and over until it got old? >> Yeah. Not often, though.

In magazines, do you like to smell the pages with perfume scents? >> I did when I was younger. I avoid that kind of thing now.

Have you ever ordered anything from a catalog? >> No.

Has there ever been something so beautiful that you wanted to cry? >> Sure.

Would you support a family member if they became an actor/actress? >> ---

Would you hire someone to scare someone? >> No?

It is in the time of the Salem Witch Trials. Would you be a witch? >> My understanding is that most of the people accused of witchcraft weren’t witches in the first place. Also, there’s one very glaring problem with these hypothetical questions: whose body am I in? If I’m in mine, then what I know of my ethnicity suggests that I wouldn’t be anywhere near Salem during this time period.

What if you were falsely accused of being a witch? >> ---

Is your heart all good or are you still picking up the pieces? >> I’m not in cardiac arrest so I guess my heart is fine for now.

Have you ever opened a loud package in a very quiet environment? >> Well, yeah, like I’ve opened packages while at home alone...

Do you add z's at the end of a word that normally ends with an 's'? >> No.

In libraries, do you tend to whisper just because it is quiet? >> No, I have a low-pitched voice so if I speak at my normal volume it’s pretty quiet as it is. Whispering has this sibilant quality that makes it seem even louder to me, actually.

Did you ever dream of getting into Harvard? >> No.

Do you believe you have to be smart to get through a school like that? >> Not necessarily. There are studious and passionate people who get into Harvard, of course... but my understanding of schools like that is most of the student body got in there by the virtue of the Almighty Dollar.

If you got offered a high paying job without a degree, would you accept? >> What...?

Are you uncomfortable when standing close to strangers? >> Yes. Very.

If you were living on the streets, would you become a thief? >> I did a little thievery while I lived on the streets, mostly from places like Duane Reade (convenience/drug store). But I wouldn’t say I “became a thief”.

Ever suffered from Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder? >> Much of the criteria of complex post-traumatic stress disorder are applicable to me. So I’ve come to understand a lot of my responses to the world through that lens.

Are you still trying to decide what you want to do for a living? >> No.

Would you be scared if you lived in an old house from the 18th century? >> Not for that reason.

Have you applied to many jobs but haven't gotten one interview? >> I did when I was young. Which is fine, because I probably wouldn’t have been hired anyway (and if I had, it would have been a horrible experience).

Is your laugh more like a giggle or a roar? >> I don’t know, man. I don’t analyse my laughs.

Don't you wish there was such thing as a teleportation device? >> Sometimes.

Can you eat a lemon or is it just too sour or gross? >> I can eat a lemon. I like sour.

Crayons, markers, charcoal, or colored pencils? >> Markers.

Can you draw with charcoal without the picture looking like a blob? >> I don’t know.

Do you hate it when guests come over and they never want to leave? >> I haven’t had this experience, but also, I’m not afraid to start kicking people out when I’m tired of their presence.

Do you like to try to figure out what is wrong with people physically? >> What???

Do you have a relative that'll talk like there is no tomorrow? >> ---

Currently are you experiencing a lot of doubt? >> Not... really?

Do you think you're a real family person? >> I’m not. I’m averse to everything about the word “family”, and have been since I was young. Guess that’s what happens when you’re abandoned by the parent you’re supposed to bond with, and emotionally neglected by the other one that got stuck with you.

Are you a person that'll draw attention to themselves? >> I mean, not intentionally? I don’t really know what this is asking.

Have you ever eavesdropped on all the wrong parts of a conversation? >> This reminds me of that facebook group, Overheard in New York. I’ve overheard some hilarious snippets of conversation in NYC, just because it’s impossible to avoid.

Ever had a clubhouse? Ah, the good days, right? >> No.

#surveys #survey #random survey