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no-droids · 1 year

Text

Another Rough Day

gif credit @chrishemsworht

Part Twenty of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 13.7K

Warnings: Angst, violence, canon-typical blood and gore, language, hurt/comfort

A/N: i wanna thank yall for sticking around during my hermit era, in the time ive been gone i am now officially a junior at a university majoring in aerospace and it’s a fuckin nightmare and i hate everything and god help us all literally kill me and I will be posting INCREDIBLY slowly because of that (I’m talkin weeks or months in between updates yall, im sorry I can’t dedicate more time to this but I am going to finish this fic within the next handful of chapters idk maybe 5 or 6 so you shouldn’t have to wait too too long). As a heads up there will be hard angst as we enter the final arc, there will be hurt and it’ll get dark but everything is gonna turn out alright so thanks for sticking with me and continuing to stick with me. im sorry if you dont like it or your expectations were subverted or if this isn’t what you’d hoped it would be after following and waiting around for so long but this was planned a long time ago and it took me a good year or two to recognize that I started writing this fic for me and now I’m going to end it writing for me and I hope yall can respect that

ALSO I asked my best BEST FRIEND in the entire world @cptnbvcks to collaborate with me for this after we both took a very long break from creating and she drew some GORGEOUS artwork for this chapter so it will be posted at the end, everyone please go follow her and say hello

ps brittany girl you’re a fuckin menace i had to use my own two ears and listen to ethan literally say the words “the mandalorian cums, hard” what the fuck was that im actually suing

anyways chapter below the cut lets get serious yall

---

You take two of them down before they even realize they’re being attacked.

Your aim is as swift and steady as if Din were behind your shoulder right now, calmly pointing out which stationary tree to hit next in rapid succession. You’re positioned perfectly at the bottom of the ramp to take full advantage of the ambush, the only thing running through your mind is strategy and the constant calculating of angles and ricochets. The other three troopers are trapped inside the open Crest and you’re right next to a large boulder that you can step behind for cover, but it proves unnecessary as the rumors were apparently true.

They’re… awful.

Not a single blaster is even fired in your direction—you think you see maybe one panicked red shot bounce around in the hull, but that’s it. The troopers fumble for their guns and trip over each other at the unexpected attack—a few scream like children through the modulators, but you’re temporarily deaf to anything besides the screech of your weapon hitting its target and the crumpling of armored bodies.

Later on, if someone were to ask you to describe exactly what happened—who died first, who ran for cover, who cried out for help—you don’t think you’d be able to. You don’t even really feel like a person right now. The entire thing is cold, robotic survival instinct, pure ruthlessness rising in your soul for the first time in your life. It feels sick. Wrong in your bones. Born from preemptive defense in fear of your life, but that doesn’t mean you stop. Not until all of them stop moving.

You empty the entire fucking canister for a handful of stormtroopers, firing plasma and char marks across every square inch of the pristine hull even after the last one drops. Your heart is beating too fast, your finger keeps pulling the trigger multiple times even after the blaster clicks uselessly, completely empty and beeping a warning that it must’ve begun emitting ages ago. Being out of ammo scares you—you suddenly feel vulnerable, even though the very far away logical part of your mind reminds you that they have to all be dead at this point and no physical threat was ever able to graze you.

Regardless, you quickly spin behind the boulder and grab another canister from your belt, giving it a spare check for leaks while the empty one slides and drops to the rocky ground. It’s the first time you’ve ever had to reload this weapon instead of just pointing and shooting, but the mechanics are relatively simple and your brain makes up for your lack of coherent thoughts with lightning fast perception. What's difficult is that your hands are starting to shake now that you’re not aiming, you’re not breathing correctly because you’re not really breathing at all. You can’t tell the difference between the adrenaline-fueled dissociative silence that muffles everything around you or if it really is just that quiet now. No more clatter of armor, no modulated voices or terrified screams. No blasters, no footsteps along the ramp, no birds singing.

You quickly pause to lift your elbow and check the enormous eyes blinking up at you, tiny claws still holding tight to the fabric of your tunic and completely unharmed, and then you force yourself to move. The blaster is held out in front of you while you walk forward and your finger rests on the trigger, begging to be pulled again. It’s suspenseful and terrifying in a different way than before—now it’s less about psyching yourself up for confrontation and more about the fact that any sudden movement could mean your very swift end.

Silence. Silence. You’re numb and raw at the same time, walking up the ramp as your eyes fly everywhere, not even registering the blood or gore, just searching for movement. You don’t know if you feel like a predator or prey, you’re that much more brutal and inhuman because of how fucking terrified you are. You count four stormtroopers in the hull laying crumpled and still on the metal floor, but the one in the far corner only has blood on his shoulder. You quickly swing the blaster around to remedy that, but then—

“P-Please don’t kill me!”

His words remind you of something. Reality, maybe. A world outside yourself and the kid’s survival, the living beings behind the bloody armor your enemies wear.

It’s a miracle your finger stays hovering over the trigger, and you watch him throw the blaster at your feet with a clang and scramble to show you his empty hands. “Please don’t kill me, please don’t kill me—I’m not loyal to the Empire, I don’t want to be here, please, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die—”

Behind the mask, your expression furrows. Stormtroopers are loyal to the bitter end, what is he saying? They embrace their expendiality, it’s the only thing that makes them any sort of a real threat. Kuiil told you horror stories about them during your childhood, the cloning facilities and the propaganda they’re force fed since infancy. It’s nearly impossible to find one who hasn’t been raised from birth to serve the Empire, no matter how crumbled and trace its remaining authority may be.

No, this is a trap, it has to be. Your expression twists with dread after hearing him speak, readjusting your aim with the blaster and preparing yourself for the years of nightmares that’ll follow—but then he cries out, “Wait!” and then removes his helmet with trembling hands.

You pause, staring down at him in shock.

It’s him, you recognize him immediately. It’s the same face from a hologram puck you bore into your memory, spent multiple days staring at so you’d be able to spot him under any disguise or circumstances. Oshua Ryler. Your quarry, the fifth puck, the one Din was out Maker knows where searching for before this entire mess happened. A stormtrooper? His puck said nothing about the Empire, this doesn’t make any sense. What is he doing here? Stormtroopers don’t have pucks, they don’t have bounties or relatives or loved ones searching for them. They’re brainwashed, replaceable, faceless soldiers in suits of armor and they don’t even have names.

“Please don’t kill me,” he begs again, staring at you with wide eyes even as he cowers. “I have a family, I-I just want to go home, please—”

“Shut up.” You can’t think straight with him crying like that and you’re wasting so much time just standing here trying to process when your brain had to literally shut itself down to even do the things you’ve already done. You have to kill him and escape, you have to—you can’t trust this complication, not with the tiny claws currently digging into your back and reminding you of your purpose, but it was so much easier when he had on a helmet. You hate looking at his face. It’s going to haunt your dreams now, just like the man you stabbed on Corellia.

“Please don’t kill me—please don’t kill me,” he screws his eyes up and breathes over and over instead, and your stomach wrenches with disgust. His posture and expression are so fucking pitiful, you can barely keep your eyes on him through the overwhelming nausea and aversion that climbs up your throat. He’s with the Empire, and they’re looking for the baby. You know what needs to be done. Pull the trigger, just one small movement from you and it’ll be all over. It would be the easiest thing in the world, it would be so easy.

But then instead, you ask, “Why are you a stormtrooper?”

“I’m n-not—I hate the Empire—”

“The Empire is ashes.” You don’t know if you’re yelling or whispering with how much blood is roaring through your ears. “They hold no power anymore. Why are you with them?”

“Because the one thing they have left is money!” The quarry shrills the words at you, ghostly pale to the point of turning green. “Th-They buy troopers now—they opened up a whole new market for the smugglers, there’s a base nearby that’s used for training and…” He stares wide eyed at you and gulps. “C-Conditioning.”

Your brain is already going a trillion lightyears an hour and it doesn’t have the capacity to empathize or understand anything beyond the child’s survival and the relevant details right now. “Were they expecting the baby?”

“W-What?” He squeaks up at you.

“Was the bounty put out on you a trap set by the Empire?” You ask him, lifting your free arm just enough to flash him the tiny child clinging to your side. “He said they’re coming after the baby, so tell me if this was planned from the beginning.”

“Who is ‘he’?” The stormtrooper asks, furrowing his eyebrows and looking around. “What are you talki—”

“Tell me if the bounty on you was a trap to take this baby!” You roar, your blaster shaking as you aim it down at him. Your mind is acutely focused on the tiny claws hanging onto your tunic, the continued safety of the kid and the life or death situation facing him that you were given absolutely no information about. “Now—”

“If it was I didn’t know!” He quickly cries out, pleading with you and clamping his eyes shut in terror under the barrel sight. “I don’t know anything about a b-baby, or a bounty! They just put blasters in our hands and told us to search for a ship and to bring back anyone we find alive, I swear!”

You’re silent for a moment, biting your lip under the mask and caught halfway between discerning and stalling. You could still kill him. You should still kill him, time is ticking down and more troopers could be heading this way any second.

Shit. “Who put the bounty out on you?” You ask sharply. It might not be a completely fair question, but he can’t exactly blame you for not feeling completely fair right now.

“I—I don’t know,” he gasps, clutching his bleeding shoulder. “Could’ve been anyone—my mother, Cyra, o-or my dad, Obediah, or Thia, or Benja, or S—”

“Thia,” you interrupt his rambling, catching the slurred word and repeating it back to him.

“Yes!” Oshua jerks his head up, tears and hope immediately filling his eyes at the sound of her name, “Yes, Thiadura Celi Ryler, that’s my sister!”

Maker, if he’s lying, then he’s fucking brilliant at it. You look towards the cockpit of the ship, biting your lip under the mask. Get to Nevarro, tell Karga and he’ll… something. Din was cut off before he finished. Help? Know what to do? You’re lost, but you have a clear directive and the precious seconds are sliding by. The controls are right up there, two steps to the ladder and less than a minute until you’re rising into the atmosphere.

But then you think back to the terror in Din’s voice. The blistering panic that made him speak faster and with more urgency than you’ve ever heard from him. Get to Nevarro. Tell Karga. Get to Nevarro. Tell Karga.

You look back at the quarry. “How many of you are there?”

“At the base? Around three hundred,” he immediately spills. “Half of us are in the hole right now getting brainwashed, they do it in shifts, but they can be mobilized in a few hours. There were a lot of bodies outside when we were ordered to split off, maybe a third of our squadron, but the rest were still shooting at whatever was—”

“So around a hundred left,” You finish breathlessly, almost wanting him to speak faster and cut to the chase so you can calculate quicker. “How many were dispatched on the search?”

“Uh, there were eight groups of five sent in each major direction,” he informs you, still trembling on the ground. “Told us not to come back until we covered the entire sector.”

Of which, four you’ve already taken care of. In other circumstances, you’d be nauseated at the thought, but right now, it’s just another number to subtract, just more panicked math in Din’s frightening absence. That leaves at least sixty troopers left wherever the base is, minimum, and likely a couple more hours before they’ve combed the sector. If this wasn’t a preconceived trap purposefully set for the kid, then that means reinforcements haven’t arrived yet but likely will soon. And if this is a base meant for training and conditioning, then that also means there’s a chance not all of them will be loyal yet.

You make the decision immediately.

“Okay,” you announce, clicking the blaster’s safety switch and holstering it, sounding lightyears more certain than you feel. “Then you’re going to help me carry out a rescue mission, and I’ll take you back to your sister.”

“You…” He looks uncertain, blinking at your blaster and slowly lowering his hands. “You want to rescue the men?”

Ideally? Sure. Realistically? You don’t say anything in response. Instead, you kick his regulation firearm at your feet further away from the quarry just in case your judgment is flawed, and then turn around and grab one of the bodies behind you.

Your adrenaline is still blaring so fast that you only just barely note the severity of what you’ve just done and what you’re continuing to do. The corpses aren’t real to you right now, they’re inanimate things that you need out of your ship before you can close the doors to it. They are, however, heavy as fuck, but the only other adult here has a wound in his arm from the gun on your hip. Regardless, you have experience with lifting dead weight without a big, strong, capable man to do it for you.

“Help me out here, kid,” you mutter over your shoulder, and in response, you feel his claws dig in and climb up just a little bit until he can peek out in front of you. Thankfully, the burden is suddenly lifted and you can quickly slide the dead troopers down the ramp with ease. It takes hardly any time at all—you just yank and haul and release and all four of them tumble the rest of the way all by themselves.

When you stand back up, Oshua hasn’t moved and he’s looking at you with a pale, queasy expression. Glancing down, you see that your white robe is now stained with streaks and patches of rusty blood. Instead of swallowing back bile at the sight and bolting to the shower to scrub off every last remaining trace, you breeze past it, noting nothing more than a change of color. Dirtying your white, pristine clothing with the consequences of protecting this baby—you’d rather have blood-soaked fabric with an unharmed kid clinging to you than any other combination of those things.

“Can you make it up to the cockpit?” You ask the quarry, kicking his rifle off the ship before closing the ramp and then gesturing up the ladder. Your voice is calm and steady but your hands are beginning to shake again. “I need as much information as possible about the base.” You know that’s where Din is, judging from the wall of blaster screeches that drowned him out through the comm. Logically, you know you could be headed right into a trap, and every instinct inside you wants to find safety, but… you just cannot imagine flying the ship away from this planet without Din onboard. It isn’t fucking happening, you’ve made your choice.

Without waiting for a response, you climb the ladder and plop down in the pilot’s seat of the Crest. While Oshua finds some way to clamber up the steps behind you in bulky stormtrooper armor with one good arm, you hold the kid closer on your lap and begin flight checking. Din will be fucking furious, but the scolding you’ll be sure to get is the least of your worries right now. Following his instructions and going back to Nevarro is just making shit infinitely more dangerous for him, turning what could be a potential rescue mission into an undeniable suicide mission. Even if Karga somehow decides to send a few guild members along to infiltrate the base, it’ll be a war you want to avoid.

Besides. What did you always tell him about running away from him, even when he instructs you to?

It’s just… not really your thing.

---

They’re everywhere.

They crawl like flies out of the base, and for every single body that falls, three more spill from the open doors. Rapid fire plasma beams launch from the end of Din’s blaster, melting white armor with every twitch of his gloved finger. Their aim is terrible, as is to be expected, but the sheer number of them more than makes up for it, as is by design.

Din’s heart pounds with exertion, his breath comes in ragged huffs through the modulator as his helmet identifies and isolates which body is closest to him, which body he needs to bring down next. His blaster is so hot it nearly burns his hand, even through the thick gloves he wears. When he runs out of ammo, he holsters the pistol and swings his rifle from around his shoulder, spinning to catch a handful of troopers behind him in the obliterating blast.

He’s not thinking much. He can’t think, even though your safety and that of his son is currently dangling by a thread. If he focuses on that, he’ll be dead before he can even picture your faces. He just reacts, he maims and kills without a single thought in his mind. Blood splatters, screams and sirens blare as he becomes surrounded by more and more troopers. Din can hear the sound of plasma colliding and ricocheting off his armor; every single one of them is a potential injury he could currently have but might not even be able to feel right now.

His helmet starts beeping rapidly and he turns just enough to see, highlighted in bright red on the screen, two enormous artillery turrets slowly rising up out of the roof of the imperial base. He feels a fierce flash of anger burn in his chest, it’s like a lightning strike to his veins.

Din needs to go.

And yet… if he was another man. If he wasn’t a father, or a husband, if he had no family and no attachments like the creed declared he should, he would go. With just a twitch of his fingers, he could be launching into the sky and retreating as far away from this battlefield as he could reasonably get. He’s never been the type to run from a threat, but this isn’t just a threat. Dozens of troopers are gaining on him, they’re trampling their own dead to get within range. Plasma pings off his shoulder, another one hits his back as they flank from behind. He can feel the heat through the sizzling beskar, he can see them surrounding him on all sides, and the propulsion trigger for his jetpack is right there under his wrist.

Din holds his ground and continues firing, he plants his feet firmly to the dirt with only one thought in his mind.

Run, sweet girl. Run.

---

You type in commands to scan for Din’s signal, quickly locating it through the Crest’s computer onboard. Not far from here, three minutes or less. The ship rumbles to life beneath you, slowly lifting off the rocky ground and rotating in place as it hovers. It’s not on autopilot but you feel like you are, you can barely feel your hands as they move the yoke forward and the Crest takes off in the direction of Din’s blinking frequency.

“Tell me about defenses,” you instruct Oshua, restlessly bouncing your leg while the baby coos.

“Two plasma turrets on top of the base,” the quarry quickly answers. “There’s usually guards stationed around the perimeter, but everyone who’s capable will be outside right now.”

Your mouth twists downwards under the mask. Blasters don’t scare you much from this high up, but Din’s armor doesn’t cover every inch of his body, he’s not completely invincible. Doubt churns in your stomach, but you have to stay focused on one task at a time so you don’t get overwhelmed. The turrets, then. “Are they automatic?”

“Manual,” he corrects with a shake of his head.

“Radar?”

“Old. Only engages above fifty meters.”

You eye your altitude and dip the Crest considerably, beginning to weave through the rocky canyons and dodging crumbling cliffs while you travel. “What about ships?”

“None,” Oshua says, “except for a passenger shuttle used for transport. TIEs are flown in the Vesta sector, this base is remote and used for basic training only.”

“Anything else?” You ask, stomach twisting with the knowledge that barely four questions is all you’ve got. You’re planning to drop into an imperial base to save the man you love and you can’t think of a single other question?

The quarry shrugs, and your heart slams, does somersaults in your chest at the mere notion that you could fucking die here. Today, in two minutes or less, you could die here. The child in your lap looking over the ship’s front panel with a quiet determination in his eyes could die here. Din could already be dead—that signal broadcasts his location to this computer regardless of whether he’s still breathing or not. He could already be gone and you’d be flying the baby right into a trap without knowing any differently.

Whelp, you think while taking a deep breath, some strangely calm existential acceptance beginning to flood your soul. If he isn’t dead, he will be soon if you don’t make it to him on time.

You immediately lift your wrist and speak into the communicator. “Mando?” You have no idea if he can hear you, but you need to try anyway. Your voice is still firm, there’s a strength to it you don’t feel in your chest, but it certainly sounds convincing. “I’m coming to get you. Less than a minute to your location, do everything you can to get outside. If you can’t, I’ll just… uh. Try to figure something else out.”

That’s it. That’s it, improvise until you don’t have to. Even if you’re lacking confidence, you can at least scrounge up some conviction. Your arms gain feeling again while you veer the Crest through the stony terrain, the familiar reverberations under your feet begin to fill your body with a powerful sense of purpose. Your breaths begin to come steady, every falling rock you see through the transparisteel feels like it drops in slow motion, allowing you to evade them easily. It would normally be stupidly dangerous to fly this low with so many unexpected obstacles and hazards narrowly missing the ship, but considering what you’re flying into, a few boulders seems comical.

“Where’s your helmet?” Oshua asks out of nowhere, and for a second, you don’t think you heard him correctly.

But then it strikes you all at once what he’s attempting to imply, and the sheer lunacy of the thought is enough to make you laugh while you clutch the controls. “I’m not a Mandalorian.”

“You wear the armor of one,” he points out… rather fairly, you have to admit. “You cover your face like one. You have a blaster that fires Philithiorium, a rare and expensive gas native to Mandalore’s stratosphere, and you’re a bounty hunter—”

“I’m not a Mandalorian.” Your words are short and cutting, you have a daunting task to focus on and don’t feel like having small talk right now. “I’m not a bounty hunter, either.”

But then again, Karga made you a member of the Guild, didn’t he? He handed you Oshua’s puck and said this one is for you to find, and you are technically part of a Mandalorian clan. All of this seems like it happened without your knowledge. You may be marrying a Mandalorian, you may wear his armor and mother his child and shoot a blaster with his signet branded into it, but war isn’t in your blood. This robe was a costume when you first made it, this armor was a relic that was restored as a hobby. In a sense, it still feels that way. The mask covering your face lended itself to a temporary surge of bravery earlier, but beyond that, the only thing that’s keeping you moving forward now is your family. The man you love that may or may not be alive right now, the baby holding tight to your leg while the ship sways and weaves through the stony landscape.

Your eyes quickly flick down to the child in your lap, both of his three fingered hands clutching onto the stained fabric of your knee without moving a single inch. He’d know, you tell yourself. If his father is gone, he’d already know somehow. Din is still alive, and he’s counting on you.

---

There’s too many for Din to handle.

They swarmed him, overpowered his endless artillery with massive numbers and there’s nothing he can do anymore. The backs of his knees are kicked from behind and he slams down to the ground with a clatter, his sizzling hot blasters are ripped from him, and Din folds his hands calmly behind his back even as one of the stormtroopers barks out, “Binders,” to another one, who disappears quickly in response. In the meantime, a few of them apparently decide to just attempt holding his arms in place, and their measly combined grip is almost enough to make him roll his eyes under the helmet. These imperial soldiers are even more pitiful than they usually are, but his silent resolve to stall to ensure your escape is enough to keep him stationary and compliant for the time being.

Eventually, a few voices call out from beyond the crowd and there’s some movement from the back. Dozens of troopers with their blasters all pointed at him begin to shuffle to make way, careful to keep their barrels aimed at him while a path slowly forms. The crowd of white parts and a stormtrooper with a singular red pauldron on his right shoulder saunters confidently towards Din as he kneels on the ground.

An officer, he assumes. Conveniently missing from the firefight, the scanner inside his helmet would’ve caught the change in color and Din would’ve made sure to kill him first.

“Well now, what do we have here?” Comes his thin metallic voice through the tinny filter. The officer studies him curiously for a few moments, before slowly looking down by his feet, reaching out one cheap, plastic covered foot to gently nudge the body of a dead trooper on the ground with a sigh. “What a shame.”

Coward, he thinks, his lip curling with disgust under the helmet.

“This is an imperial training base,” he turns his attention back to Din to inform him when he doesn’t immediately respond, rather stupidly he might add. “How were you able to find us?”

Silence. The grip on hands held behind his back is even looser now. He just tilts his chin up slightly in defiance, the scanner inside his helmet locating each weapon strapped to the man’s body and highlighting it red. Small text boxes blink into existence under each one with a manufacturer and classification—a BlasTech E-11 rifle, a Merr-Sonn thermal detonator, a Kolvo vibroblade—and Din is severely unimpressed with the quality. The detonator is the only weapon that even catches his eye, and that’s only because the chamber inside that houses the explosive baradium has a release mechanism that’s completely dead. Useless, then. Good to know.

After a long moment of quiet tension where Din refuses to speak and the officer continues to confidently scrutinize him, in some strange sort of silent battle of egos that only one seems to have a genuine interest in, another stormtrooper makes his way to the front, shoving past his fellow soldiers to address the superior in charge.

“Commander, we’ve sent out an alert for an intruder,” he tells him, slightly out of breath from running through the crowd in the lightweight armor. Din wants to roll his eyes, but what he says next makes him snap to immediate attention. “The fleet informed us that Moff Gideon is currently on route.”

Gideon. The last time someone spoke that name, it was a quarry on Coruscant and you just barely managed to stop Din from suffocating the bastard for even saying it aloud before freezing him in carbonite. It would’ve meant half the return on a hunt that lasted nearly a month but he saw red and his hand was crushing his windpipe before he realized what happened. But he’s dead, Din thinks with a clenched jaw and fists tightening behind his back, he watched that TIE fighter explode and slam into the ground, crushing the man inside it. The wreck was unsurvivable, he can’t be alive.

“For what? This Mandalorian?” The trooper in charge scoffs in response, and Din remains completely mute.

“Yes, sir,” the other one confirms. “Orders were to capture him, alive.”

“Hm.” The officer turns his attention back to him, less analyzing and more musing while he tilts his head. “I see,” he eventually says, and he sounds like he’s grinning, before strolling slightly closer as Din stays completely still on his knees. “He must want the beskar. I’m sure it’s worth more than this entire battalion combined.”

All of a sudden, a gloved hand carelessly catches the rim of his helmet and tugs, and Din’s movement is explosive. He launches off the ground, arms easily slipping from the pathetic grip they were being held in and his fist colliding with the side of the officer’s flimsy white helmet, the plastic making a deafening crack against his face.

Multiple hands immediately rush forward to grab him and yank him back down again while the commanding trooper stumbles backwards in shock, and Din amicably drops to his knees and folds his hands behind his back once more like nothing happened at all.

“Binders!” A trooper behind him roars loudly once more, and a few men surrounding him begin trotting away this time.

The officer in red stands a few feet away from him now, grabbing his helmet and twisting it back to its proper position on his head where it was skewed. There’s a shattered hole near his jaw where the material splintered and busted like the cheap piece of banthashit it is, and while he might normally feel pleased with himself for being able to see his skin peeking through, it just fills him with more righteous fury. It’s such a punchable jaw.

After a few awkward moments of silence, the other one clears his throat and continues. “He… has inquired about the location and status of a child that should be accompanying him.”

Din inhales deeply through his nose and grinds his teeth. He wants to snap their necks one by one for even just mentioning his son, but there are just too many, more than even his whistling birds can neutralize. Still, he gave you as much of a head start as physically possible. You should be rising into the atmosphere right now, making the jump into hyperspace towards safety. Karga will know what to do—he’ll protect his family, separate you and the boy so the threat is evenly dispersed instead of collected all in one place, and arm dozens of trained hunters to keep watch over you both individually. It’s the best Din can do, and it’s the only thing keeping his knees planted on the ground and his body completely motionless while they continue speaking.

“We are combing the sector for a ship with as many men as we can afford to lose,” the trooper in red says, but his voice filter is shattered and now sounds like a puny little droid with a broken voice box, “but our numbers are unimpressive. Assistance may be required.”

It’s too late, Din thinks, mouth twitching under the beskar with a satisfied smirk. They’re wasting their time, looking for a ghost. You’re both long gone by now. They’ve got no idea you even exist—

“He also spoke of a girl.”

And then he feels his heart stop in his chest. Every single cell in his body turns to fire, it’s a fucking miracle he doesn’t move a muscle in response. His sweet girl, the one so far removed from the nightmare of the Empire that she made best friends with the orphans of it. How the fuck did he know? He shouldn’t even be breathing, let alone gathering information about you, how did he know?

But then Din thinks back, remembering your makeshift bed on the floor, your panicked eyes and heaving chest as the quarry taunted him with a sick little smile. Who’s this, Mando? She’s just darling, isn’t she? Does Gideon know your crew has a lovely new addition?

“A girl?”

The trooper nods. “Moff Gideon insisted that if the Mandalorian did not have a child with him, then a girl would likely be protecting him instead.”

He’s going to kill them, Din decides. Every single one of these imperial pigs, every single soldier standing right now is a dead fucking man. The blood pumping through his body suddenly turns to acid, deadly black hate poisoning his soul. His heartbeat morphs into a war drum, the armor strapped to his limbs is the barrel of a gun. He’s going to fucking kill them and leave an imperial base full of bodies to greet his old nemesis upon his return, and he’s going to enjoy every single second of it.

Except, then—

“Mando?” The sweetest voice in existence suddenly crackles through the earpiece under his helmet. “I’m coming to get you. Less than a minute to your location, do everything you can to get outside. If you can’t, I’ll just… uh. Figure something else out.”

And, as Din kneels there in surrender, surrounded by a crowd of enemies he thought he destroyed long ago, all the anger—all the fury and defiance and murder surging through his veins—suddenly morphs to fear.

The emotion is so foreign and old to him, it feels like a face he barely recognizes and a name he can’t remember. He’s panicked before. He’s been in situations where a threat has made him blind with rage, he knows what it’s like to look death straight in the eyes and say that he’s busy and to come back another time. This is different. This is ice cold that freezes over beskar.

He can’t speak out loud to warn you—he can’t move his hands to press the button on the back of his helmet and allow him to talk without detection. There’s plasma turrets on the roof of the base, he can see them right now. The helmet’s scanners say they’re manned and engaged, and though he is outside and this is how you retrieved him before whenever he needed a quick escape, he has fifty fucking imperial blasters trained on him and you know absolutely nothing about this threat. You’re flying right into a war zone and if either you or his son dies, he won’t ever be able to forgive himself.

Behind the helmet, his eyes fly to each and every trooper, wondering which blaster will be the one to do it. Which weapon is going to be the one he can’t block in time when you descend, the one that’ll kill him right in front of you. Which turret will be the one to obliterate the Crest with you and his son inside of it.

“Maker, where are those fucking binders—” he hears someone behind him snarl, but the white noise of pure terror roaring through his ears drowns them out. His chest starts heaving against his will, sheer panic begins to blur his vision. For the first time in his life, his armor feels too heavy, his lungs feel like one of these boulders are sitting on them instead of beskar.

All too soon, his helmet starts making a familiar sound that signals quietly in his ear, alerting him of an incoming ship, and the only thing he can physically do is count down the seconds to prepare himself for what is to come.

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two…

Like lightning, Din breaks the grip of multiple troopers and surges up, tackling the officer in red to the ground. There’s a clatter as they both slam into the rocky floor, but in the ensuing scuffle, he easily snatches the thermal detonator from his side holster and holds it up for everyone to see, before pressing the red button on the front and hearing it begin to beep rapidly.

---

You’re right on time.

The Crest rises up through the rocky cliffs surrounding the base and you spot the turrets you were warned about. Weapons controls are already engaged and you’re too low to be detected by radar—you fire once, twice, and blast both of them to smithereens from behind before they can even rotate around to target you.

Alarms start wailing but the guns are destroyed. It’s not comforting, though; blasters won’t touch you up here, but that doesn’t mean they can’t fire at Din on the ground. Your eyes dart across the sea of white, looking for a flash of silver anywhere, and then you spot him instantly in the chaos.

For some reason, the troopers in his vicinity all seem to be bolting away from him. Their rifles are down, clutched in their hands while they nearly fall over each other to run away as fast as possible, and your heart soars when you spot his jetpack firing up. Din launches into the sky while another trooper is revealed underneath him, seeming to juggle something in his hands and then throw it into the crowd of retreating soldiers, but the sight of the man you love rising into the air while a flurry of blaster shots from the far edges of the imperial structure follow him gives you the confidence to immediately turn the guns down towards the horde of troopers.

“Which ones are in charge?” You ask Oshua breathlessly, who leans forward and points out the transparisteel.

“Red pauldrons—” he barely has time to say it before you aim and fire at one of the troopers wearing red that was closest to Din, the plasma beam launching from the Crest so powerful and devastating that it outright obliterates the surface he’s laying on. Pieces of shattered armor fly and a smoking crater of rubble is all that’s left behind, but your mind is whirling and you’re already onto someone else wearing red at the edges of the complex, and then two more near the doors, and then another—

To their credit, you think the sixty or so soldiers in training seem to figure out that you’re not aiming into the enormous collection of them. If you were, the damage would be catastrophic and spraying everywhere, but you’re precise and meticulous with your shots, and the only ones who are loyal enough to the cause to hold still and raise their blasters at the incoming threat tend to be the ones you need to mow down anyways. The rest of them scatter in all directions, scrambling over each other to escape and then disappearing into the distant boulders surrounding the base—but you notice that not a single one of them runs back inside the safety of its open doors.

The hull dips with the weight of Din dropping in, and relief floods your soul even as you continue raining hell down on the superiors in charge. Any flash of color you see is a target, your eyes lose focus of everything, your vision blurs and turns monochrome as you just search for red.

“Lift up!” You hear Din’s voice roar from the hull. You can hear his rifle unloading through the open door. “Now! We have to go now!”

You press the button to shut the hull door with Din inside and punch it, rising so fast that the shove of gravity makes it difficult to keep your head up. Through the sudden surge of downward force, you just barely manage to raise your incredibly heavy arm to push the button that pressurizes the Crest and ignites the launch boosters, preparing the vessel for space travel. Outside the transparisteel, the gray sky begins darkening as the atmosphere eventually disappears. The ship’s engines roar, burning so much fuel at once that you’re actually accelerating through the climb, you’re boosting through the gradual ease of gravity as the planet’s curvature and glow becomes softer and softer below you.

As soon as the blackness of space begins to fill the windows, the slight subsiding of force allows you to plug in the coordinates for Nevarro with less difficulty, but you’re still moving, still rising, still escaping. You can’t find it within yourself to slow down, but then something catches your attention.

Claws suddenly dig sharp into your thigh, sharp enough to sting and cause you to wince, and you look down to see that the kid has gone incredibly tense. Deadly tense. Your heart is still pounding even though you’re away from danger, you’ve got Din in the hull, everyone is safe, and yet—

It flickers into existence all at once. One second it’s just space, just the endless depths of nothingness spread out for light years in front of you, and within the blink of an eye it’s suddenly there.

A star destroyer.

Your body freezes in horrified awe, having never seen a ship so fucking big in your entire life. It looks like a massive satellite, the size of an enormous asteroid instantly appearing in your vision and dwarfing the vastness of space around it. All the stars you used to dream about are suddenly blotted out within a fraction of a second, terror so immense seizes your soul that you stop thinking. You stop calculating, you stop being yourself for a split second that lasts an entire lifetime.

Before you can move a single muscle, the computer beeps quickly and lurches the Crest into hyperspace.

---

The stars streak across the transparisteel like so many times before. Utter silence nearly deafens you with how abrupt it is after so much noise, but the peace it used to bring does nothing to quell your fear. Everything is the same as it always was, same bursts of light as you hurdle faster than it towards Nevarro, same quiet, same rumbling hum of the ship. But now, everything has changed.

You hear the quarry next to you suddenly inhale and exhale loudly, and it shocks you a little bit, reminds you that there’s a person next to you and another is on your lap. Other people exist outside of the vision of death that just flickered out of existence just as quickly as it appeared. They’re breathing, Oshua is shakily unbuckling his seatbelt, life is continuing on in the quiet cockpit but you can’t seem to move like he is. You can’t seem to breathe like he is. It’s only when the baby slowly maneuvers himself around on your thigh and blinks up at you, placing a tiny hand on your stomach that you finally feel air enter your lungs.

After a moment, you reach down and click open your seatbelt with trembling fingers, scooping the kid up in your arms and slowly attempting to stand. Everything feels wobbly and dreamlike, you have to brace yourself on the headrest to prevent yourself from falling back into the chair again.

“That was…” Ryler mutters, his voice sounding foggy and distant, “uh. A close one.”

You look over at him, recognizing that he’s speaking but not quite able to understand the words right now. Red catches in your vision, and you blink down at the way he’s clutching his left shoulder, the smear of blood darkening the white armor he’s wearing. You blink a few more times at the sight of it, and though it feels like you normally would be sickened at the wound, somehow shocked out of your state of shock, it does nothing to you. When you look back up at his face, his expression seems strangely grateful, even when it’s screwed up in what you know must be excruciating pain. You did that, a quiet voice whispers in your mind, even though the rest of it seems incredibly blank.

Instead of responding, you stumble a few steps over to the ladder, spinning around and hesitating for a moment. You’re severely lacking in coherent thought, but one thing seems to break through. You’re not sure if you have enough coordination to do this safely right now. However, when there’s movement in your peripheral and you look to see Oshua gently offering his right arm to you, seeming to understand you’d like to use both hands for this, you snap back to your senses just the slightest bit and hug the baby tighter to your chest. Carefully, you begin making the slow climb down the ladder with the kid, still trembling with the aftershocks of adrenaline. Your limbs feel extra heavy, but eventually the floor meets your feet.

Din is standing there when you slowly turn around, armor gleaming and still as a statue, but he has his back to you. His helmet is tilted down at the ground, and when you follow his gaze, you’re met with the sight of the bloodstains of dragged bodies that leave dark red streaks all the way up the ramp.

You feel something this time. It’s… cold. A burning, searing cold that creeps into your skin. Like your heart decides to pump nitrogen through your chest instead of warm blood. You did that.

There’s a sudden urge inside of you to speak, to address him and inform him of your presence, tell him everything is okay, everything worked out, but you can’t find it in yourself to say a single word. You can’t find a single word to say. The kid twists as best he can in your clutch, his ears drag against your chest to greet his father, but for some reason, there’s still a strange sense of fear in your bones. It’s enough to wake you up slightly, it’s enough to tell you it’s not over yet. There’s a terror in your heart that hasn’t left since he first called over the comm and begged you to run, a crippling dread that you thought climaxed after seeing that star destroyer appear, but it’s somehow only increased after laying eyes on him like this.

You watch as his helmet turns, slowly meeting the pauldron on his shoulder, and for some reason, you feel yourself harden. Your feet brace against the metal floor like this is another threat you have to face, you let its unyielding metallic strength transfer up through the souls of your boots to your heart in your chest.

But the second you hear cheap white armor clatter as the quarry steps down the ladder behind you, Din bursts into movement. He suddenly spins and storms up to you in one single step while catching your holstered blaster on your hip. It’s out and aimed in the blink of an eye, and it’s a miracle you remember how to speak before he remembers how to kill.

“Mando—” you warn, just in time for the quarry to land on the floor of the hull and turn around to reveal his face.

Din holds there for a second, his helmet locked on Oshua’s features. His gloved fingers twitch wildly on the trigger of your gun held over your shoulder, like he has to remind himself multiple times not to. You hear Oshua’s armor clack while he likely raises one good arm in surrender, but then Din’s helmet moves a fraction of a millimeter to your face and holds there. He just stares down at you, and the air feels heavy, your body feels heavy, the feather light child in your arms feels heavy.

Slowly, he lowers his arm, lets it fall while he continues looking at you from behind the visor. You look back at him, unblinking, unfeeling, and there’s a few seconds that last an utter eternity where nobody moves. Nobody speaks, nothing happens, but then a soft coo comes from your arms before you can finally break eye contact, knowing there are still some things that need to be done.

You eventually turn around and lift your chin to address Oshua.

“You have to go into carbonite,” you inform him quietly. Your voice sounds strange, like it’s coming from outside of yourself. “We’re taking you to Nevarro, and then you’ll be transported to your home planet. When they unfreeze you, your sister will be there to collect you.”

He looks uncertain, one hand still raised while the other hangs uselessly at his side, and you don’t blame him.

But you also don’t feel like saying anymore, not unless he decides he doesn’t want to go in willingly. Normally you might’ve tried to empathize, offer him further reassurance beyond just a couple short sentences, but you don’t. Speaking feels difficult, thinking feels difficult. You’re still in survival mode, not active but reactive. There’s also no reason for you to lie to him about this, and you can see him glance at Din standing silently behind you, who hasn’t moved a muscle.

He eventually nods and you walk him over to the chamber without another word, watch him turn to face you as he backs into the opening while you reach up towards the control panel.

But then there’s a moment. One where you hesitate slightly, one where your vision flashes back to the sight of those bloodstains on the floor, and that burning cold fills you again, so cold it feels completely numb.

“I’m… sorry,” you whisper quietly to him, though your voice sounds so empty. There’s so much emotion that should be there but isn’t, so much regret and pain that should break through but can’t. “I’m sorry I… killed your friends.”

Later, you’ll think about how you felt absolutely nothing saying it. Your heart doesn’t constrict with remorse at the mere words leaving your mouth, guilt doesn’t flood into your soul, pain doesn’t wrack through your bones. You could’ve been saying anything at all and nobody would be able to tell the difference.

He blinks at you, flicking his eyes between yours for a second or two, but then you press the proper button and watch the gas quickly freeze him where he stands. He’ll be conscious the entire time, but Karga will send him to the correct location and you have no doubt that this elemental purgatory is leagues better than where he just escaped from. It’s a benefit being the last quarry to be retrieved—he’ll only have to spend a few days trapped in here before being reunited with his family.

When that’s done and Oshua is a complete statue in front of you, bulky white armor now colored a dull metallic gray and frozen in time, you will yourself to finally turn around to face the enormous mountain of a presence behind you. The baby gently reaches out for him, but Din doesn’t move from where he’s stood. Your blaster is still clutched tightly in his hand, and he isn’t looking at you.

Slowly, you walk over and stop directly in front of him in the middle of the hull, blinking at him while the helmet subtly moves to lock onto your face. The kid begins wiggling in your arms, making soft impatient noises while you both stand in complete silence across from each other.

After a few moments, you hear him flick your blaster’s safety on by his side and then toss it carelessly to the ground. It skids along the floor, light enough to be mostly quiet. Gloves reach out as he carefully takes the kid from you and settles him in the crook of one arm, and then he looks you up and down, still not saying anything.

Your eyes follow his movement, watching his arm slowly reaching out to you, and you think he’s going to cup your jaw, or brush your hair back. Give you some sort of physical reassurance since he hasn’t spoken a single word of it.

Instead, Din suddenly grabs the armor clinging to your chest and starts ripping it off you with one hand. It clangs to the floor so loudly in the silence of hyperspace, the kid’s ears twitch and flutter with each shattering bang. You hold still while he does it, you barely respond except the unavoidable movement your body experiences as the pauldron is yanked from your shoulder and thrown against the ground. The ammo belt is tugged over your head and hurled away, the thigh braces are snatched from your legs and they clang to the floor, and the pearly, opalescent fabric revealed underneath is stained in dead man’s blood, rusty and in such great quantities that it shows up as brown instead of red.

“Are you hurt?”

He sounds… dead. So monotonic that you can’t possibly gauge his emotional state. He doesn’t move. His fists don’t clench, he says every single word like it means the same exact thing as the last. If nothing at all was a person who could speak, they’d use his tone of voice.

“No,” you eventually whisper.

The helmet nods once, and then he spins around and walks away without anything else. Without saying anything, without touching you, or double checking you for injuries in case you were lying. You stand utterly still while Din climbs the ladder with the kid cradled in one arm, and you don’t even flinch when the door to the cockpit slides shut behind him. You have no idea how long you stand there in the splitting silence afterwards, numb and unmoving.

You feel… nothing. Absolutely nothing.

The hard defenses you strapped to yourself today to reconcile the things you had to do are still high and strong, guarding your soul even if he stripped away your physical armor. Self preservation is still animating your body, and your facial expression barely changes. Your first thought, as soon as you remember that you can have one, is that there are things that still need to be done. Tasks to complete.

Alone, you shower the lingering traces of blood off your body, the normally clear and refreshing water running a sickly, toxic brown. Alone, your stomach rolls and suddenly decides to empty itself of the very little that was in it as the scalding drops rain down over you—mostly liquid and bile that easily rinses down the drain. The water is too warm, it beats down on you like blazing hot sand pelting your skin in the desert. You feel like you did those first few months with Din, where the silence was suffocating, where you’d only interact with the baby if he was on a hunt or if you could tell he didn’t know how to calm him when he was fussy. If you were in hyperspace, you usually spent time by yourself in the hull while he lived in the cockpit, and if he decided he needed to be in the hull for whatever reason, then you’d trade places with him. It was… isolating. Lonely by yourself. The quiet used to haunt you before it became your cherished friend, but now it’s a betrayer, a ghost that whispers memories and nightmares in your ears.

When you finally finish rinsing the blood from your skin and get dressed, you see the sheets that used to make up your bed now have fried holes in them from your charred plasma marks, the inside of the hull is covered in them and the trails of dried blood where you dragged the bodies down the ramp. Your armor is still strewn about the hull, the kid’s hovering shield lays dead in the corner. Everything you meticulously cleaned and organized and collected and created, now the scene of a bloodbath. One committed by your hand, your blaster still laying uselessly on the floor forever linked to this atrocity.

You spare a glance towards the ladder, but you don’t want to come face to face with Din yet. You already knew he’d be furious, but… you had hoped that he’d at least…

What? At least what? Comfort you? Coddle you after you deliberately ignored his instructions? What exactly, in the past year or so of learning Din’s inner workings and intricacies, would ever give you the impression that he’d come give you a big hug after you purposefully defied him? You flew the kid directly into an imperial base after being told to protect him, you ignored every order he gave to you in the moments he thought would be his last, and though you did it to save his life, you have a feeling that Din has never valued his life even a fraction of what you do.

The misery stabs at your soul, but your mind is finally beginning to process things logically. He’s alive, the kid is alive, the quarry is secure, and you’re all onboard the safety of this ship hurtling through hyperspace where nobody, not even the Empire, can touch you. You weighed the consequences before making your decision, you did what you had to do. If he wants to be mad, then he can fucking well be mad and you’ll find some way to comfort yourself. At least he’s here being mad, at least he’s alive and safe and breathing and mad, and your rare act of disobedience is to thank for that.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you realize it’s probably easier than it should be to reconcile the punishment. Right now, you welcome the exclusion, the negativity and sorrow beating itself into your soul. Four innocent people died today on this ship, gunned down under your blaster while they panicked and ran for cover. You keep hearing their screams.

So you start to clean up the hull, needing another task to focus your thoughts on. You work to erase every inch of the evidence of your deeds, make it disappear like the pool of blood Din once cleaned up while you were sleeping and never acknowledged again. You only allow the bloodstains to fuck with your head for a single moment, and then you swallow back the nausea until you’re a blank slate again and sink to your knees with a rag in your hand. After that, your vision stops focusing and it just becomes red contrasting against gunmetal gray, and you work tirelessly to get rid of all remaining traces of it.

Then you start on the blaster marks, you need them gone. After a few informed attempts at mixing cleaning chemicals, you find one concoction that allows you to wipe them away like they’re nothing more than dirt that got tracked in. The Crest’s oxygen recycling system works overdrive to constantly purify the air so you don’t get high or pass out, but your nose still stings. It’s fine, it’s sterile, it burns a bit but it smells sharp and metallic and keeps you hyper focused on the task at hand.

After that’s done, you pick up the charred blankets and ball them up to throw into the trash vent. You don’t feel anything as you do it. You don’t think about how long it took you to collect these over months and months of being stuck on this ship, how comfortable they were when everything else was industrial and rigid, how many nights you spent with Din curled up in their softness while he breathed easy and warm. Sheets are just luxuries, they can afford to be lost.

Next, you gather your armor and wipe it down with the rag, put it away along with your blaster. The stained robe goes in the trash, along with the sheets and the blood soaked cloth you used to clean everything. They’re all ruined, you’ll never be able to make them right again.

The hull is sparkling clean when you decide to take another shower. Nothing on you is dirty except your hands, but you feel filthy. Wrong, cold, numb, cold, stained, cold.

After scrubbing your skin raw under the water and changing clothes again, since you don’t really know what to do with yourself anymore, you slowly climb the ladder to the cockpit, keeping perfectly silent. When you reach the upper platform and come face to face with the closed door, you can just barely hear Din’s whispered voice speaking quietly to the baby beyond it.

You raise your hand for a moment, hovering your knuckles over the metal, but then it eventually falls. Instead, you look over and spot the corner, the same corner Din bunched himself into when he snapped at you for even suggesting going on a hunt with him, blew up at you for the mere notion of something happening like what happened today. You back yourself into it in defeat and slowly sink down on the floor, resting your head against the metal and hugging your knees to your chest since you don’t have a tiny baby to take their place.

You can’t sleep. You don’t even try, it’s pointless. The concept feels foreign the longer you sit here by yourself. You don’t hear Din or the baby anymore, but you feel… so fucking awful that it’s fitting that you don’t knock or go looking. You don’t want to hold that sweet child with hands that were covered in blood just a few hours ago. You killed more people than you can count on your fingers today, and of the ones who had done nothing wrong… They screamed like younglings, ducked for cover and were able to fire off one single useless shot in the mayhem before you closed their eyes forever and left their bodies to rot in armor that wasn’t ever their choice to wear.

You didn’t know they were kidnapped and smuggled and forced into that situation. You couldn’t have known, but that isn’t the point. In this case, knowing doesn’t make one bit of difference.

You also can’t face Din yet, not like this. You don’t want him to see you cowering, shattered with guilt over the decisions you made under pressure. How will you ever get him to forgive you for not listening to him when you can’t even forgive yourself for the result of your choices? Din is a hardened man who grew up in blasterfire and bloodshed, just because you love him doesn’t mean he’s going to magically become someone he isn’t. You’re here letting guilt sink sharp claws into your chest over four dead men when he had a good fifty or more corpses scattered on the battlefield around him. You decided to wear that armor, you decided to fly into an imperial base with the kid on your lap, and this is now your penance. You’ll accept it with your back straight and your chin held high.

Figuratively, of course. Physically, you’re smaller than you’ve ever been. Crumpled up into a ball, taking up as little space as possible, curling up as tight as you can like an animal protecting all your vulnerable parts during a brutal attack.

So, since he isn’t here to comfort you himself, you just try to think about what he would tell you. A long time ago, what would he tell you?

Din would tell you… that you killed someone. Multiple people, this time. He’d also tell you that it doesn’t matter what he tells you, what you could have reasonably foreseen or what you should have done. The end result won’t change. You own this now. You’ll carry their deaths with you.

You take a few deep breaths, self-soothing with the undeniable truth that would be murmured matter of factly from his quiet voice. He wouldn’t argue with you. He wouldn’t deny the decisions you made or the consequences of them. It happened, and at the end of the day, you either learn how to handle that, or you don’t.

And, for the four you did shoot, you were responsible for freeing ten times that amount. You’re responsible for reuniting Oshua Ryler with his family, even if your place in yours is momentarily shunned. You’d rather be out here alone than in there with the kid, wondering where his dad is or if he’s even still alive. You rescued Din and now he gets to be here to shut this door on you, hold his son, and whisper calm reassurances to him. If you listen really hard and imagine, you can pretend they’re for you, too.

That’s it. Focus on them both, alive and well together. Focus on the bodies wearing white armor that were moving, the ones that were bolting away from the imperial training base as fast as they could, free from the torture of imprisonment and conditioning.

Finally, you close your eyes and slip into unconsciousness. It’s not a testament to your exhaustion, but rather just how long you’ve been left to sit here by yourself. Hours, maybe. Time is strange in hyperspace.

You dream of a faceless man ringing bells.

---

When you wake up, a small baby has been placed in your arms, and you’re being dragged into a strong, secure beskar hold on the floor.

“Din,” you suddenly lift your head as soon as you’re conscious and nearly bonk it into solid metal, apologies rising in your throat before you even remember where you are. You did what needed to be done to keep your family alive and together and you’d do it a thousand times again if necessary, but that doesn’t mean you won’t apologize anyways. After the deeds you’ve committed today, regret feels as natural on your lips as speaking your own name. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I know you’re mad at me but I—”

“Shh,” he whispers, running his gloves through your hair. He’s still wearing his helmet, he hasn’t taken anything off yet. “Don’t say anything. Just… stay here, stay right here with me.”

“I tried to save you,” you croak, tears instantly flooding your eyes. You did save him. You saved him and the baby and yourself but you’re so physically and emotionally exhausted that all you can recall is your intent. “I tried. Wasn’t gonna leave you there by yourself. I tried to be brave, like you—y-you wouldn’t have left without me.”

His arms tighten around you, cradling you in such a strong embrace that you burrow into him, you find a place for your head on the hard metal strapped to him and bury yourself there, wishing that you had shovels of dirt being piled on you to justify the death you still feel staining your soul. Your heart is starting to pound now that you’re remembering, your body is starting to shake with tremors of shock now that you’re aware of your own skin again.

“I was so sc-scared, Din, I didn’t—didn’t know what was happening,” you lament through watery eyes, gasping it out in hopes that it’ll relieve the slightest bit of the gut wrenching guilt just mercilessly crushing you. It caught you before you could protect yourself against it, that armor you built around yourself isn’t on when you first wake up. “I-I didn’t want to kill them, but they were already on the ship and y-you said—you said they were coming after the kid s-so I had to, I had to—”

“Stop,” Din whispers, voice so quiet that you can barely hear him.

“I-I cleaned up the blood,” you turn your face against the cold beskar to let all the positives you listed for yourself before scrape across your throat. They don’t sound comforting anymore, they just sound like excuses. “It’s gone, it’s like it never happened, everything is okay now, I got the quarry, I protected the baby, I saved a bunch of people, you’re both safe—”

“Stop,” he chokes out. The modulator cuts off before you can hear his next breath, but you feel it shudder under your body. “St-Stop it, please.”

Your eyes clench shut so tightly you feel like the streaking stars outside are behind them, tears drop down against his pauldron and you press your face tighter to it like it’s a wound, like the pressure will somehow ease the bleeding.

“Listen to me,” he says very quietly, and you instantly brace yourself. The walls you just let down shoot right back up, your body physically tightens in preparation for another pain, another trauma, another scar you’ll carry, and you stop shaking. You stop breathing, even when his hand comes up to ease your face away from his armor.

“You,” he whispers, holding your chin so you’re staring right at him, and your eyes flick fearfully in between his behind the visor, “are a sweet girl.” Din’s leather thumb brushes along your skin, dragging over the tears below your puffy eyes. “Not,” his voice catches, “a Mandalorian.”

Your heart goes cold. Again, everything turns numb. It doesn’t matter that you already said this yourself out loud earlier today. It doesn’t matter that you acknowledged this fact, verbally insisted it more than once to hammer home the truth and felt some sense of comfort in it. For some reason, hearing the words from his mouth is a fucking knife to your chest.

“I taught you how to fight, how to shoot a blaster,” he murmurs, thumb catching every single tear that continues to fall as he speaks. “I taught you everything I know, everything that’s been taught to me. I taught you how to defend yourself, how to protect yourself when you’re in danger. I gave you your blaster, I gave you my armor, I gave you everything I could give you to keep you safe. And when I thought you were ready, I let you loose on Sanctuary II. Do you know why I did that?” The helmet tips forward the slightest bit at the question, probing deep into the most shattered part of your heart. “After all those months of fighting, and shooting, and training, do you know why I told you to run?”

You blink silently at him, a shaky breath quaking through you, and your expression wants to crumple under the reprimand. You’re so fragile right now, taking hit after hit after hit to the softest parts inside you, and you want to just give up. Let the guilt and remorse take you, let it wash you away. But then, instead…

There’s a flicker of something inside you. Something strong, endlessly strong, and it makes you want to revolt against what he’s saying. It replaces the hurt and fear and desperation for comfort with a strange sense of insurgence, like it did earlier when you were hiding behind a boulder, cowering and trembling and not wanting to die. You’re filled with a quiet urge to defend yourself in the face of this, stand up for yourself and refuse to be beaten down any longer.

“Because you needed to know how to escape danger,” he answers himself when you don’t. “You needed to know how to disappear, how to outsmart any pursuer and find safety, even the trained ones. Especially the trained ones. Anything else was meant to be your last resort. Not your choice. Not something you chose.”

“I couldn’t leave you,” you admit to him quietly, voice shaky and tears still coming even as you try to speak up for yourself. The regret you carry has nothing to do with this, and you decide right now that you won’t feel bad for saving him. Your hurt comes from the meaningless things, the ones without any need whatsoever, not the necessary ones, and you tried. You repeated his words to yourself over and over again, told yourself to run, told yourself to get to Nevarro, and it wasn’t going to happen. “I couldn’t do it. It wasn’t a choice.”

“It was,” he tells you. He says it softly, whispers it like it’s the gentlest thing in the world, but the power and inherent distance of the armor strapped to his body finds its way into the words. “And it was the wrong one.”

“What was I supposed to do?” You ask, just a hint of that rebellion swimming to the surface now, rising out of the waves of self doubt, the one that feels like a spine growing in your back, an energy coursing through your veins that makes your heart start to beat faster. Din’s hand slowly drops from your cheek but you don’t care. “Was I supposed to run away and just let you die?”

“Yes.” It’s quick and blunt and completely emotionless. Delivered like a punch to the vulnerable parts of yourself he taught you how to protect, and the utter silence following this single word is comparable to the physical pain you learned to defend against. It jabs hard against everything good and sweet and tender inside of you, and you’re left speechless even as he continues impassively. “That’s exactly what you were supposed to do.”

It takes a second, but then that unfamiliar feeling suddenly surges up, breaches with the power of an entire ocean. Your voices may be nothing more than whispers in the dark, you may be clinging to each other, holding each other with the softest, gentlest love in your hearts, but the strength of your conviction on this would rip metal apart.

“No.” The word holds the might of your entire being, and it stands alone and defiant in the face of everything you fear, everything that threatens you, him, and this child. Never. You’ll die before that happens. “I love you, and there’s nothing in this galaxy that would ever make me do that. Not fear, not danger, not the Empire, nothing. Not even you.”

Din stares at you. His visor reflects your hardened expression back to you, the force in your soul and the purpose in your eyes, and you don’t even realize the gravity of what you just said because like your love for him, gravity is a constant. It’s a fundamental truth cemented into the rules that govern your actions and it stays true no matter where you are, no matter what terror you face, or how scared you become. You have him, you have this little boy in your arms, and if that’s all you have, then you have everything.

After an eternity of this, of feeling his eyes pierce deep into you from behind the helmet while you refuse to wither under his stare, you watch him slowly turn and look down, landing on the sleepy child tucked between you both. He holds there for a long time, before finally whispering, so quiet that the modulator barely picks it up, “It was the wrong choice.”

You stay quiet. It happened. What’s done is done, you can’t change the past. He can scold and reprimand you about this as much as he wants, but you did the right thing and that decision is the only reason he’s even here to be able to do so. This exhausted child was reunited with his father because of your choices, and this exhausted father was reunited with his child. You won’t argue anymore, but it’s a certitude that lives deep in your heart now, builds a home there right alongside the both of them. Din eventually looks up, his eyes find yours again behind the visor, and his hand rises once more to gently cup your jaw.

“I… thought I’d enjoy seeing you in my armor,” Din finally whispers. It’s not what you expected, but his voice sounds… weak. Broken. “You wore mine once before, and it was…” He brushes his thumb along your cheek, and then his head shakes slightly, pushing the thought away. “It wasn’t real. It didn’t fit. It dwarfed you, it made you look out of place, it made everything soft and innocent about you stand out. I liked it because it wasn’t real.”

“Was it… really that bad?” You whisper back, partially to ease the tension just slightly but quickly breaking eye contact with him when you realize it doesn’t land correctly, it just sounds self conscious and sad. You try to find that conviction again, that strength and assurance that propped you up so sturdily before, but… Not a Mandalorian, he’d said. Of course not. Of course not.

“It wasn’t the armor.” Din gently tugs up on your face so that you look at him again. “It was you covered in blood. It was you purposefully putting yourself in danger. You killed multiple armed soldiers of the Empire, you dragged their bodies off the ship. And then you flew into an imperial base, where you killed the officers, too. You…” He shakes his head slowly at you while speaking, and although you can’t see his face, you don’t need to in order to hear the horror in his voice. “You… collected a quarry… in the middle of a massacre, sweet girl.”

Not a Mandalorian.

“You don’t chase down bounties,” he tells you. “You don’t fly into war zones. You don’t kill imperials, you don��t collect quarries, you don’t sacrifice yourself, or our son, to save me. You said you tried to be brave… like me.” His fingers tighten against your cheek, he dips his helmet to make sure you understand. “I’ll never ask you to be brave. I’ll ask you to survive.”

“I’m… sorry,” you finally whisper, and his arm drops from your cheek to join the other in wrapping around you and holding tight. They hug you and squeeze, encasing you and the baby in a beskar shield and staying there for a long time. Long enough for you to tuck your head back into its proper place under his helmet, long enough to start to feel okay with the silence again. It brutalized you the last time you were surrounded by it, it made you feel alone and desolate and barren inside. You greet it warily now, settling into it for an unknown amount of time until it’s forgiven once more.

After a while, Din quietly breaks it.

“How many?” He murmurs to you. You already know exactly what he’s asking, there's no more clarification necessary on his behalf.

You slowly close your eyes and think back to the smoldering craters, the blood soaked ramp, the fear in Oshua Ryler’s eyes as he begged you not to kill him.

“That didn’t deserve it?” You ask, clenching your eyes tighter at the memory. “Four.”

And maybe, maybe six or eight months ago, you would’ve begged for some guidance on how to reconcile that. Hell, maybe a few hours ago, you could’ve used his arms around you exactly like this, his low voice repeating the same things he’s already told you before, over and over again, if only for some semblance of stability when everything feels turbulent and uncertain. You’ll never be able to change it, though. This belongs to you now.

This time, all Din says is, “I’m sorry, too.”

And that covers everything.

The silence envelops you both again, but… there’s something else. Something that still sits deep in your worries, an image that isn’t a scar of what’s happened but a dread of what’s to come. You need to tell him. You don’t feel like saying it, you don’t want to speak it aloud for fear of bringing it into existence, but you need to tell him.

“Din?” You breathe out, and he makes a soft noise in his throat while cuddling you on the floor. “I saw…,” you whisper, every word sitting tight and reluctant in your throat. “Right when we made the jump, I was looking through the window and I-I saw…”

“A star destroyer.” He says it like… like it’s the worst thing in the world and also completely expected at the same time. He says it like he already knew, yet can’t even imagine. You lean every bit of your weight against him since you can’t hold him in return, squish him as best you can against the small corner and curl up even tighter in his arms for comfort.

He takes a deep breath, a shuddery sound you don’t think you’ve ever heard him make before. It holds untold anxiety, unsaid conflict, uncertain action, an unknown path forward.

“I don’t know what to do,” Din eventually whispers to himself, to you, to the baby in your arms. His voice is barely a breath through the modulator, his fingers digging into your skin with how many emotions he’s repressing. “What do I do?”

He sounds so distressed that you automatically feel your soul find the floor—instantly, you become steady and calm and you locate all that rationality that kept you going today. All your worries still twist deep down, all the guilt and the turmoil wrestles with your soft, easy nature until you can only find bits and pieces of it in the most vulnerable places inside you, but if he’s struggling this terribly, then the least you can do is offer some good, true, unwavering faith in times of uncertainty. You’re in hyperspace, everything worked out, and it’s going to stay that way for right now. If he doesn’t know how to talk about it yet, then you trust him enough to wait for him.

“It’ll be okay,” you tell him with a newfound confidence and purpose, carefully easing the baby into one arm so that the other can find its way to the other side of his helmet and pull him closer. Din tucks his head and allows you to brush your lips against the metal, whisper the words soft and steady to him. “We’ll figure it out together.”

---

@cptnbvcks thank you so much for the incredible art!

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #mando x reader #mando x you #reader insert #fanfic #star wars #rough day #no-droids

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pumpkinsouppe · 1 year

Text

An Analysis on Ganondorf's Ear Change

This a repost to format it a little better and add images in the sections. It's a bit of a long read but I hope you enjoy!

(Also spoiler warning for the Zelda games, I broke it up into sections so you can skip certain game analyses. However, each theory builds upon and references each previous section so there is spoiler bleed throughout the analysis.)

The first mention of Ganon being human was in A Link to the Past, however, we were only shown his beast form. This is true for all of the games from the “hero perishes” timeline. He is never depicted as human and there is only mentions in certain games of his human form. The Oracle games being another major example where Twinrova tried to resurrect the human version of their surrogate son, but failed and just resurrected the body of the beast who has lost his mind. However, while looking for images, I found scrapped concept art of human Ganondorf for the Oracle Games. He is depicted with round ears but this is no surprise as the Oracle games took a lot of inspiration from Ocarina and Majora's. But as it stands, there is no canonical human depiction of Ganondorf in the perishes timeline.

(Image 1 is official artwork of beast Ganon from A Link to the Past and Image 2 is scrapped concept art of Human Ganondorf with round ears for the Oracle Games.)

Ocarina of Time

The first appearance of Ganondorf as a human was in Ocarina of Time. This game established that not only do all Gerudo have round ears, but Hylians specifically have pointed ears to hear the prayers of Hylia. Also, Gerudo will search around Hyrule to marry Hylian men and the offspring will be full Gerudo.

Ocarina of Time is also where the first discrepancy appears. In the original game, after the 7 year time skip, Ganondorf has changed. Canonically he has grown his hair and gotten older, but the issue is that his ears have grown into a point. There is concept art of Ganondorf becoming half beast-like after the time skip, most notably having hooves, horns, AND longer ears. HOWEVER, the official art of the game (aka the canonical art depictions) show Ganondorf with no ear change at all. This art contradicts the 3D model. Perhaps the modelers wanted to emphasize the change Ganondorf went through, and his ears were a reflection of either his beast nature or that harboring the triforce for so long changed his appearance to represent his connection to Hylia.

There’s a lot I can get into about the Triforce and the end of OOT but I’ll try to keep this simple. At the end of OOT, Link still possesses the triforce of courage when talking to Zelda. He could have returned it before Majora’s Mask, it could’ve been split after this scene, who knows. What’s important is that Link returns with the triforce. This could mean 2 things. There are now two instances of the Triforce of Courage in the past, one with Link and one in the Temple of Time. Or, because the triforce was already split in the story, the triforce is still split when Link returns, even though Link had returned before that event took place previously. The triforce could still be split in this new past without anyone’s knowledge as they never open up the Temple of Time to check. Thus lying dormant in their hosts bodies. I will continue this theory under the Wind Waker and Twilight Princess sections.

This isn’t the end of the Ocarina of Time information, though. Years later, they completely remade the game for the 3DS, including building all of the characters from new. The developers specifically referenced official game art, which means that Ganondorf in the game never had the ear change. His 3DS ears do get as slightly narrower but they are not pointed nor elongated like the N64 models. We can then assume that the ear change is non-canonical in Ocarina of Time and was more just a fluke on the model. BUT, that leaves major questions for Wind Waker and Twilight Princess, where Ganondorf’s ears are canonically pointed, even though they are both the exact same Ganondorf from Ocarina. You’d think his change in the 7 year gap would have been the easiest explanation.

(Image 1 is the past and future comparison of Ganondorf's 3D model from the original game. Image 2 is official artwork of Ganondorf after his appearance change, he has rounded ears)

(Both images are from the remake Ocarina 3D. Image 1 is from the past and image 2 is from the future. Both have round ears although the future's ears are slightly thinner.)

(Image 1 is of a Gerudo thief and Image 2 is of Anju, a Hylian. The Gerudo has rounded ears and only appear slightly pointed due to limited polygon modeling. Anju is used to show how long the ears are supposed to be.)

Wind Waker

Wind Waker is the next canonical human appearance of Ganondorf. And I will admit I have not played all of Wind Waker so I am not completely familiar with his change of personality. However, this change has formed a couple theories. First, Wind Waker takes place on the “Hero stays an adult timeline” which is where the 7 sages sealed Ganon in the spirit realm where Rauru watched over him. Years later Ganon was able to break free and it led to Wind Waker. Every depiction of Ganon has him with pointed ears. The official art, the 3D model, and the concept art. This was a very intentional change, but there’s also no way to compare this change to the Gerudos since they aren’t present. Also to mention, Wind Waker has the biggest stylistic change of any Zelda game, so this choice could have been to keep with the style as the Rito also have pointed ears. In terms of theories, one of the bigger theories for how Ganon was able to escape was that he merged with Rauru in the spirit realm. Ganon’s appearance has had the biggest notable change since Ocarina of Time and his appearance is very similar to Rauru’s. This could be the possible reason why Ganon has pointed ears in Wind Waker.

(Image 1 is the official Gamecube model of Ganon and image 2 is his concept art, both feature pointed ears)

Added note: once again looking through images, there is one single depiction of a Gerudo in Wind Waker. This is a stained glass depiction of Nabooru. She has kept her round ears from Ocarina. This indicates this was not a global change on the Gerudo but rather a specific change towards Ganondorf. Wind Waker is about Ganondorf trying to regain the Triforce of power (which if I understand the summary correctly, it was just sealed from Ganondorf and not actually removed) so the Ocarina dormant Triforce theory does apply. Holding the piece of the triforce dormant for so long has physically changed him to appear like Hylians due to the connection to Hylia. This would align with the WW developers possibly taking inspiration from Ocarina's model change. Or, as I will delve a little more into later, it's purely a stylistic choice to depict corruption. Although we have no Wind Waker era Gerudo to analyze, what we can at least be assured is this change was not a retcon to completely change how Gerudo are depicted. Gerudo in Ocarina of Time are canonically depicted with round ears.

(Image is a stained glass depiction of Nabooru featuring her round ears.)

Twilight Princess

Twilight Princess was the next and last depiction of human Ganondorf up until the reveal of corpse Ganon. (Hyrule Warriors isn’t canon so I won’t be delving into it). Gandorf in Twilight Princess also has pointed ears. Not just after living in the Twilight Realm, but also before his execution. Again, this Ganondorf is the exact same as the one in Ocarina of Time, but from the “Child Timeline.” In this timeline, Ganondorf never became a beast and the kingdom of Hyrule fell into war with the Gerudos against the Hylians (or at least that’s what’s rumored). So even if the Ocarina ear change was canon, that would only affect the Wind Waker Ganon, not Twilight Princess. Here’s the thing about Twilight Princess, you cannot argue that this is purely a stylistic change. We can even see this at the beginning of the game, all of the Ordonian’s have round ears. Link is the only Hylian and the only one with pointed ears in that village. AND if you look at old concept art, most of the art has Ganondorf with round ears!! Y’all T-T I’ve looked at too many pictures of Ganon’s ears my god. There are no Gerudos in Twilight Princess either so again there is no direct comparison we can make. There was clear intention to depict Ganondorf with pointed ears and there was definitely discussion about it among the developers, but their reasoning for this change can only be theorized. Some of the theories about why his ears are pointed stems back to the harboring the triforce theory I mentioned in under Ocarina of Time.

If we were to continue thinking the triforce had permanently split despite going back to the past, perhaps the triforce pieces lie dormant in Zelda and Ganondorf without their knowledge and that’s what leads into Twilight Princess. Maybe the dormant piece inside Ganondorf changed his appearance as he holds a vital connection to Hylia, thus making his ears pointed.

Another theory could even possibly be that after the Hylian-Gerudo war (which again is still a speculative event), the Hylians could’ve forced conversion on the Gerudo. Maybe they felt ashamed of their connection to the Demon King and started to also worship Hylia, thus leading to pointed ears we never get to see (this also is part of the BOTW explanation). But would this change take place instantaneously or over many generations? Even if it were instantaneous, I highly doubt that Ganondorf would also start to worship Hylia. So why would his ears change? Over many generations doesn’t make any sense either because Ganondorf is one man who just lives forever and is constantly resurrected, he has no descendants he is reborn into like Zelda and Link. TP is the one that confuses me the most but perhaps the most logical explanation is that is just a reflection of the change in Wind Waker. Perhaps the ears make him look more devious so they kept the change. And I wouldn’t even be making this essay if this change was CONSISTENT. WHY DID THEY GO BACK TO ROUND EARS. I’m getting ahead of myself.

So I mentioned before that they completely remade Ocarina of Time. They solidified that his round ears are what is canonical. Nintendo also remastered (different than remake) Twilight Princess and Wind Waker. This means they took the old game and improved the graphics and visuals, using the exact same models they did in the past. But if they wanted to retcon the idea of pointed ear Ganon, that would’ve been the time to do so. But they didn’t. And then they made the Gerudo in BOTW have pointed ears. So it seems like they wanted to stick to their guns about this being a canonical change. But again, why are his ears rounded?

(Image 1 is Ganondorf's TP 3D model with pointed ears and Image 2 is early concept art with round ears)

Breath of the Wild

Breath of the Wild definitely brings up more mysteries but also has some of the more satisfying answers. The biggest reason why Ganondorf’s ears are a big mystery is because the Gerudos ears DO change but corpse Ganon’s DO NOT. How did this change come about? This explanation might be the one that makes the most sense but will contradict the designs of Twilight Princess and Wind Waker. So like I mentioned before, every iteration of Ganondorf has been the same Ganondorf. Link and Zelda are NOT the same Link and Zelda from the past. We don’t exactly know how long in between 10k years ago and Ocarina was, all of it is lost to history, but we also don’t know the fate of Ganon between his final appearance in each timeline and 10k years ago. (These games being Zelda II, 4 Sword Adventures, and WW). However, what we can safely assume is corpse Ganon is the same as Ocarina Ganon. We have not seen any prior instance of rebirth, just resurrection, so this is not a new person. We can just assume that perhaps Ganondorf in TP and WW were just stylistic choices and he has always had round ears. Personally, if we go down this path, I am then much more curious about how Ganon was able to return to his human self after multiple failed beast resurrections in the fallen hero timeline. But that’s not what this post is about lmao.

If we go back to the BOTW Gerudos, there are two plausible theories that can work simultaneously. One is that because there has been no male Gerudo in over 10k years and the Gerudo women having to date Hylian men, there’s bound to be evolutionary change. Even though the Gerudo gene will always dominate, maybe 10k years was the amount of time to slowly transform how the Gerudo look. The other theory is that sometime during the 10k year span, the Gerudo worshipped Hylia (similar to the TP theory). The only Gerudo by name who faithfully followed Ganon through the years was Twinrova. Even in Ocarina of Time there were already dissenters such as Nabooru who were punished for going against the king (aka the Iron Knuckle treatment). But maybe this shame that the Gerudos, like Nabooru, felt was what the future Gerudo felt after the first calamity. They pledged their faith to Hylia to show how they weren’t sided with Ganon, and thus their ears grew. And 10k years is a LONG time. We know that if the Gerudo did follow Hylia, it didn’t last forever as there was a huge emphasis on faith involving the unknown 7 heroines. The player knows these represent the 7 sages but the Gerudo all believe they are 7 warrior Gerudo, so this faith from BOTW could have stemmed from Hylia and was lost in history. To add, the hidden Goddess Statue in Gerudo Town could also allude to this former faith conversion. So in this sense it would make sense for the Gerudo to change and not Ganondorf. He’s one man and not the product of 10k years of different generations, thus retaining his appearance from Ocarina of Time.

(Image is of a Gerudo Woman in BOTW. She has very prominent pointed ears.)

Tears of the Kingdom

And this all leads to Tears of the Kingdom. But also we have no idea what happened 10k years ago. That’s for us to discover in the game. I want to start by looking at corpse Ganon’s appearance as a whole. He's not just adorned in Gerudo clothing, but the garments themselves look expensive and regal. You could argue Ganon’s clothes from the previous games also have this description but there is one major difference, he is not wearing armor. He is wearing robes and adorned with golden jewelry, something you’d see a high priest or priestess wear, not a domineering, war-bound king. Ganon is the king of thieves and pirates and soldiers, it is only natural he dons armor and fight. But why is he so unprotected? What changed Ganondorf and what led him to such a terrible fate? The only thing we can possibly connect this to is Link’s long hair and robes, but we are also in the dark about that. Even if you were to compare this style of dress to the chitons and tunics of the ancient Mediterranean, it’s not like the soldiers just didn’t wear armor. What could have possibly happened post Zelda II/4SA/WW that led to such a change in fashion and ornamentation?

But Ganon’s clothing isn’t the only thing to analyze. There’s also the green hand piercing his stomach lol. The particular location of the hand is important because it is the exact spot that that Ganondorf from Twilight Princess was stabbed at during his execution and where Link pierced Ganon with the Master Sword to defeat him. It is very plausible that corpse Ganon is the same as Twilight Princess Ganon as many other theorists have compared the TOTK trailers to the Twili. But if it is Twilight Ganon, why are his ears round omfg T_T I cannot with these discrepancies. Honestly the Wind Waker change doesn’t even bother me it’s all Twilight Princess.

Another feature to note is Ganondorf's long hair. It's interesting to note that the only time Ganon grew out his hair was in Ocarina of Time and Hyrule Warriors. I haven’t played HW and again it isn’t canon so I don’t have much to say about it but it’s curious that that’s the aspect they chose to keep for corpse Ganon. The long hair, at least in Ocarina of Time, represents his physical change to evil. A physical representation of his desire for power. But if you strictly analyze the way corpse Ganon appears combined with his silhouette (so not how his eyes turn red and evil lmao), he doesn’t seem like he’s a demon lord corrupted by power. He would be wearing heavy armor, not precious jewelry and robes. I guess the biggest indicator are his sharp canines, similar to Wind Waker. The silhouette is what really gets me. If you are divorced from any context of who Ganondorf is, that shadow looks like a man, perhaps even a tragic hero, moments before he is defeated. He is strong and proud, sure, but nothing indicates evil. He is just a man screaming in agony.

This is what I believe is the key to keeping Ganon’s ears round. Perhaps like the hair in OOT, his pointed ears were just a physical representation of Ganon’s corruption. And this is where you have to examine Ganon’s design not under a lens of canonical change but stylistic representation. Although pointed ears could represent something benevolent and ethereal such as elves or fairies, they have also been used to denote things that are sinister or corrupted. (And there is a whole history about this rooted in anti-semitism similar to Ganon also possessing a large nose. Considering TLOZ is based on Western Fantasy, it is not surprising to see Western tropes and designs to also be used, good or bad. However, I am not qualified to speak thoroughly on this but I did want to make an important note about how certain body parts are perceived in media). So if we take the design of Ganondorf in Twilight Princess and Wind Waker, we can say that the ear change was to denote Ganon’s corruption post-Ocarina. Despite being defeated and exposed, he did not give up and let that hatred fester. So if we use this to also analyze corpse Ganon, along with my points in the previous paragraph, was Ganon from 10,000 years ago truly evil? Was he really Demise incarnate or someone who was able to, or trying to, divorce himself from this evil? And who knows, this scene could even depict a self sacrifice. A man cursed with an evil spirit, repenting for his sins by sacrificing himself for the good of Hyrule for 10,000 years.

Back during the development of Ocarina of Time, the script director Toru Osawa mentioned that despite being pure evil, Ganon had redeemable traits. Perhaps Tears of the Kingdom is revisiting this. Who would Ganondorf truly have been if he weren't possessed by Demise? Is there anything in Ganondorf even worth saving at this point? All we can do is patiently wait for this answer.

(Both images are of Corpse Ganon from the 2019 TOTK trailer. Image 1 is a close up on Ganondorf's face which shows his rounded ears, pointed teeth, and jewelry. Image 2 is zoomed out showing Ganondorf's hair, robes, and the arm stabbing his chest.)

(The image is also from the 2019 trailer and shows Ganondorf's silhouette moments before the hand grabs his chest. He appears full bodied and possibly around 30-40 years old.)

Skyward Sword (ish)

Personally if there was a canonical change (not just stylistic), I feel like the best explanation would’ve been tied to Demise. The more Ganondorf becomes consumed by his hatred and power, the more he starts to resemble Demise. But this can’t be the case because guess what. DEMISE HAS ROUND EARS FNDJKSFL. I know there was no foresight when making the earlier games, but I’m gonna be honest if there was one time to use pointed ears for any of these designs, it should’ve been for Demise. That would also make it interesting if you also considered that 10k years ago Ganondorf was able to go back to looking like a Gerudo from Ocarina. He was trying to divorce himself from Demise. Or perhaps the return to round ears IS the corruption of Demise. Although I see corpse/silhouette Ganon lacking evil, his appearance could instead be indicative of something very prideful or arrogant. The evil King of the Gerudos, so proud of his abilities that he doesn’t even need armor, just exquisite jewelry to denote rank. I find this theory unlikely but I wanted to hit every target I could think of.

(Image is of Demise with round ears)

Conclusion

A lot of these changes definitely came about from changes in art directions. Who knows if the creators of this franchise ever predicted they would create something as monumental as Breath of the Wild, they sure as hell didn't even plan on a sequel. I know a lot of fans, including myself, are very excited to see more of Ganondorf and what happened 10,000 years ago. Many have already been theorizing about good-natured Ganon since the 2019 trailer. It's very interesting having an analysis among all previous designs that leads to the same conclusion based simply on how his ears are designed. I don't expect any explicit reveal for his design either but I am definitely excited for the creation of TOTK book that details all the concept art of this game!

I also don’t want any of this information about corpse Ganondorf to be revealed in a trailer. I hope each new trailer remains incredibly cryptic and mysterious because finding out for yourself in game which theories are correct and so incredibly wrong is the fun of it all. It’s fun to speculate and do research about niche topics because they could be actually significant or I just spent hours talking about a character’s ears for no reason LMFAO. I am so excited to see what the game has in store for us :)!!

Tysm for reading and now I hope you are just as haunted by Ganon's ears as I am lol

Lastly it’s important to show your sources lmao. The concept art and information of Ganondorf came from Hyrule Historia. I also referenced the “What Ganon’s Ears Hint at in BOTW 2 (Zelda Theory)” by Bandit Games. I also found old threads from Zelda Dungeon from 2008. Images from Zelda Wiki. 3D modeled images from The Models Resources.

2/14/2023

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yukidragon · 1 year

Note

So on Twitter, there's a small au going around featuring Jack as a slasher. From what I've seen it's pretty much same ol' Jack except more feral, not dead (?) and chasing around some unlucky ones.

I was wondering exactly what your take on a Slasher!Jack would be? I've come up with a few concepts myself but I'm curious because you seem to expand better on possibilities concerning AUs and writing.

I’ve seen that. Some of the art is really cool and very chilling. (Also some of it is exceptionally smutty, but that’s to be expected.)

Also thank you for such kind praise! I’m flattered you think so highly of my writing.

In a lot of ways, canon Jack does tick a fair number of the typical slasher killer boxes, at least if he winds up going down the murderous yandere path. Most of the most famous slasher movie characters have some sort of supernatural angle to them. An unstoppable killer makes for a very terrifying antagonist after all, especially if Jack has the same level of immunity to pain and fatal injuries as one of the early pictures Sauce drew of him.

Just as a heads up, there will be bloody violence and potentially smutty stuff behind the cut in this post. Remember, Something’s Wrong with Sunny Day Jack is for Adults Only.

I mean just look at Jack in the lower right there. That’s practically the climax of a horror movie where the “final girl” is desperately trying to survive the killer coming for them.

Credit as always to Sauce for being cool with me using their absolutely lovely publicly posted art in my posts. Remember, please don’t repost anything privately posted over on the SnaccPop Studios Patreon. There’s even more tiers than ever now, with more goodies to discover. Not to mention new incentives including custom artwork, extra content, and you can suggest lines for the Sleepy Time Jack virtual body pillow. Imagine one of your saucy lines being said in Jack’s sexy voice~

And I’m starting to get off topic thinking about Jack being sexy when we’re talking about him being a scary serial killer. Oops! Let’s get back to that, shall we?

One of the key differences between slasher killers and yandere killers is motivation. Yanderes do it for the sake of love, but slashers don’t tend to have that sort of redeeming quality. If they love anything, it’s the joy of murder and being a psychopath. If they’re not evil incarnate, they’re a lost soul so caught up on thoughts of revenge that even innocent people get pulled into the mix. The latter would actually fit Jack’s background disturbingly well considering he was murdered during filming.

It wouldn’t take too much to tweak the canon story in a slasher direction. Heck, you don’t even have to remove the yandere aspect. I mean, let’s face it, Jack wouldn’t quite feel like Jack without his intense love for his sunshine, would he?

Some slasher types are mindless hulking brutes, but some are very smart, even chatty with one liners. Imagine Jack making a bad pun as he hacks some innocent soul in half.

Since a slasher just isn’t a slasher without them committing brutal acts of violence, in this sort of AU, Jack wouldn’t have that hang up with acting perfectly in character as Sunny Day Jack to prevent him from getting his hands dirty.

Imagine if, say, during those 40 years in hell, Jacktor’s mind broke a little differently. Instead of burying himself so deep into the role of Sunny Day Jack to keep his sanity, thoughts of revenge were what he clung to. Brutal, awful, horrible revenge that got more and more twisted as he was stuck in hell, unable to sleep, only able to think and suffer in a place so very, very cold.

Jack is Jack because he reinvented himself as a new identity, sort of like how a lot of slashers are no longer known by their former identities, but by their new monikers. It’s not that Jack believes he is the character of Sunny Day Jack, but that the character is his. He has made it his own, and no one is going to take it away from him.

The studio dares to erase his legacy then replace him and pretend it was always this new replacement? Oh hell no. There’s only one Sunny Day Jack, and no one will ever forget him again...

During the day, Jack is cheerfully loving on MC and being their best friend. At night... he’s picking off his targets, using the persona of Sunny Day Jack in a perversely ironic way to twist the knife - quite literally at times - when getting revenge. Heck, why stick with just a knife? Clowns are far more creative than that, and he’s had 40 years to consider all sorts of lovely ways to enjoy his bloody revenge...

What? An innocent person who had nothing to do with this died? No way - they must have been involved. If they weren’t, that might make revenge a bit less sweet, make Jack potentially question things. He might not be the character he’s playing, but he knows that being happy is a lot more fun than being angry, and he can be pretty jolly when those awful people who crossed him pay the price~!

MC is unnerved by all the deaths being reported, and so gruesome too, but Jack assures them he’ll watch out for them. He won’t let anyone hurt them, he promises.

Still, Jack suggests MC remains vigilant about other people. Don’t talk to strangers except when required at your job. Don’t trust that blind date - what if they’re going to hurt you?

Unlike in the main universe where Jack killing people would be a move of desperation to keep his sunshine, in this AU, killing people would be a source of schadenfreude. He might try to keep things a secret from his sunshine, but sooner or later MC will find out about his dark secret and all the twisted “fun” he’s been having, then they’ll have choices to make...

Jack’s behavior before being discovered as a serial killer would probably be a bit different as well in this AU, mostly due to the variant that he remembers that he’s an actor and isn’t the actual character. He remembers vividly what happened the day he died and all those who may have been involved.

Sticking with the limitation that Jack needs MC to need him in order for him not to be damned back to hell, he would still be sweet and doting. Not to mention MC saved him, and he fell in love with them for being his savior and can feel their emotions. The idea of hurting them is unthinkable and certainly not fun like murdering those who deserve it.

When MC asks Jack questions about who he is and where he comes from... I imagine they would actually be able to pry some real answers out of him, though no doubt with great reluctance and pain. Being empathetic to him, they wouldn’t push too hard to force him to relive it, so to speak, at least not unless they felt pressured by all the suspicious things going on...

So MC believes either they’re hallucinating, or an actor who was tragically murdered is haunting them because they wanted a friend and Jack was lonely like them. With more clues about the incident, they could have a slightly easier time digging into what happened... though I’m sure Jack would rather they not.

After all... if they start looking into LambsWork Productions, they might get caught up in Jack’s revenge, and he doesn’t want to risk losing his sunshine.

Now... a few pictures of the slasher AU have Jack chasing down their sunshine, who is running away in terror. If Jack is dependent on MC needing him around to exist, this wouldn’t be able to happen unless he became powerful enough not to need them as a tether anymore.

Given that in a lot of supernatural slasher movies the slasher is disproportionately powerful, it could be in this AU that Jack doesn’t need MC to need him to stick around, as playing the tape set him free without limits. He just stays with MC because he loves them since they saved him. They could even have this bond between them still.

Really, this makes me think in this AU that MC has nightmares most every night of the killings. It’s not in perfect detail, but they see glimpses of what’s happening. In some dreams they feel the same terror as the victims, as if they were the one in danger. In others, they see more from Jack’s perspective and feel the rush of his emotions, the joy and sadism in killing.

In terms of a visual novel’s routes, there would be a route where MC would have to stop Jack and would wind up being the “final girl” like typical slasher films, culminating in a climax where they’re being hunted down in the studio by Jack who is caught up in a mixture of love and betrayal because they tried to send him back to hell.

The happy ending in this route is succeeding in doing so, though no doubt there’d be a teaser in the epilogue that the threat isn’t over... so MC better watch out since they’ll be the target of revenge next...

In the bad end of this route, MC would fail to stop Jack. Maybe he kills them due to betrayal, or maybe he is willing to forgive them... but he makes sure they’ll never, ever betray him again...

Another route entirely would be getting closer to Jack and understanding his broken mind better. MC learns all about what he’s doing, but isn’t trying to destroy him. Instead, they’re trying to talk him down and stop him peacefully without letting anyone get hurt.

The happy ending to this route of course is breaking through this slasher mentality to reach Jack’s humanity. He is then left to have a breakdown over what kind of monster he became, and MC would help him let go of his hate and finally heal for real. Whether that involves him staying or being put to rest peacefully depends on one’s own personal taste for a happy ending. (I know I like OTPs to stay together to smooch and heal each other’s broken hearts.)

The bad ending to this route is that MC is the one who breaks first. They empathize with Jack too much, get too drawn into his twisted revenge pleasure and join him. It’s still a “happy” ending in so much that the two of them wind up being murder happy psychos together, moving on to wreak havoc elsewhere once business is done with LambsWork Productions. After all, there’s a whole world of fun to be had~

Now... when it comes to my personal interpretation of the canon I use for Sunshine in Hell and how that affects an AU like this... I like to think that MC resonated with Jack in a way, suffering from a similar pain and longing, and that’s why they could summon him from the tape and form that supernatural bond. With this in mind for a slasher AU, Alice’s state of mind is going to be a bit different as well...

With Jack desiring love and bloody revenge, he would resonate with someone who feels similarly, don’t you think? In this AU, Alice is twisted up inside due to the life she’s lived. She was bullied, experienced SA, the person she trusted and loved the most cheated on her, along with other awful things... A part of her wants revenge. She has always suffered with violent thoughts, dreaming of sadistic revenge fantasies where she would paint the walls of her school red with blood, where she would do all sorts of horrible, savage things to the person Ian slept with while he watched before she turned her brutal revenge on him next...

Alice moved out because of heartache, but also because she was afraid that she might murder Ian if she ever saw him again.

Working in food service doesn’t help. Rude customers, long hours, a boss that demands too much work for too little pay... It’s impossible for Alice not to fantasize about putting something toxic into the yogurt she serves so that the Karen who yelled at her dies foaming at the mouth, or maybe her boss Barry can wind up getting chopped up and served up as a new mystery flavor...

It’s sick. Alice knows these are sick thoughts, and she hates how much she indulges in and enjoys these fantasies.

Fortunately, Alice suddenly finds herself with a new friend! Gosh, he’s had such a hard time. All the awful things that happened to Jack remind her of how the world kept crushing her down. They’re kindred spirits in a way.

Jack is also a very bad influence, encouraging Alice to just indulge in these wicked impulses. She jokingly comes up with the idea to do something vicious to someone she hates and wants to see suffer. Jack, being the true friend, asks why shouldn’t she? They deserve to pay for what they’ve done.

Essentially, Jack encourages Alice to indulge in the vice of revenge just like him. He nudges her into doing more, going a little further each time in crossing the line, and she finds that she enjoys it too much. She feels guilty, but thrilled, and he praises her for it, reassures her that what she feels is wonderful. The person she got revenge on deserved it. Why shouldn’t she enjoy seeing those bastards get their just desserts?

Oh, that reminds me, since Jack wouldn’t be stuck in the mindset of the character of Sunny Day Jack he would be free to swear as he pleases. He might be out of costume most of the time and just in costume when committing his murders, though his name is Jack either way.

Basically Alice was someone on the edge of committing violence, fighting it because she knows it’s wrong even if a sick, twisted part of her enjoys seeing others suffer for the awful things they’ve done... and Jack tips her over the edge to join him on the slasher side.

Poor Ian. During all this, he believes that Alice wants to see him to get back together with him. Such a shame that she’s already moved on to love someone else, someone who helped her see that she shouldn’t prioritize other peoples’ feelings over her own. She should be free to indulge in her desires without shame, and not hold back on how she really feels about anyone.

Nick would likely not be Jack’s victim in this AU. Rather, he would be Alice’s first victim. After all the awful teasing, bullying, and entitled customers she’s suffered over the years... what better person to get revenge against than someone who makes her feel cornered and who’s been secretly stalking her for a long time now?

Don’t worry, sunshine. Jack will help guide you through it and show you how much fun getting revenge can be~

In this AU, Shaun would be the “final girl” so to speak, having to end this slasher reign of terror during a bloody climax full of dead bodies and violence. Of course, in true slasher fashion, it only seems as though they’re dead. As a horror director, he would be painfully aware of this trope and constantly worrying about the fact that no one ever found Alice’s body after he was forced to shove her out a window after they both drew blood in the final conflict...

It’s such a shame that Shaun believes that Alice was the serial killer all along and that she was working alone. After all, she was the only one he could see. How could he have ever expected a supernatural lover to catch her and save her from a fatal fall and make sure she wouldn’t bleed out from all the injuries she took during the final fight?

Of course... Jack isn’t going to take kindly to anyone trying to kill Alice. He may have come back from the dead, but that’s no guarantee that she can do the same.

No one will take his sunshine away.

Shaun almost got away, but not all “final girls” live in the end, do they? Such a shame...

No one knows what happened that night in the studio, but the next morning LambsWork Productions was all over the news. It’s impossible to hide murders when anyone with the power to do so is already dead. What’s more, it’s like the murderer wanted everyone to see such a gruesome display of death and carnage. How horrible!

Of course, since sometimes slashers have a motivation to come back to life along with their revenge. Also, it’s a popular trope that rituals to revive the dead tend to wind up with a lot of other people getting slaughtered in the process. Put them both together and, well...

Let’s just say that the epilogue involves a new location, with neighbors who are a bit intimidated by the big fella with the muscles and tattoos who just moved in with his girlfriend.

Fortunately, Jack quickly shows the neighbors just how friendly he is, and he’s so affectionate with Alice, who is adorable in her own right. What a relief it is that the new neighbors moving in are so nice. They could have been someone dangerous. Can you imagine?

@channydraws @earthgirlaesthetic @sai-of-the-7-stars @cheriihoney @illary-kore @okamiliqueur

#Sunny Day Jack #Something's Wrong With Sunny Day Jack #SunnyDayJack #sdj #swwsdj #Headcanon Ramblings #Ask

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hellfire010 · 2 years

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⊰ HEADCANON ⊱ ◦ TATTOOS.

A little trajectory and semi-break down of Eddie’s eventual full-body tattoo. This post doesn’t include his details on his canon tattoos—i.e. the cloud of bats, the demon face, the puppet master, the spider, or the wyvern—even though he does have them before his eventual shift.

BEFORE THE HUNT. ◦ 010. Received from Hawkin’s Laboratory during his nine year stay. After his escape, his PTSD-induced memory loss and the lies he was told by Wayne throughout his life made him question why he had it to begin with. None of what Wayne ever mentioned made any sense. It isn’t until the events of season 1 begin that his memories and nightmares start to worsen that he starts piecing it all together. However, he opts for drugs to reduce said memories / nightmares, and they aren’t fully awakened until Vecna’s powerful resurgence in season 4. Post-S4, the tattoo is slightly altered from scarring inflicted by the demobats. ◦ Sigil of Asmodeus. Keeping up with his freak status, Eddie had dabbled here and there with the occult, even though he’s not fully into it during his school years. He read about the Seven Princes of Hell, and decided that getting Asmodeus’s sigil on the left side of his chest was the most rebellious, as he is the embodiment / representation of the sin Lust. AFTER THE HUNT. Despite clearing his name, there are many who are still suspicious of Eddie, thinking he may have been able to find a loophole in the law, is a Satanist leading a cult, etc. Instead of fighting against it, he leans heavily into the rumors, deciding to transform his body into a work of art for the false deity that placed him on this path in life. As ex-Corroded Coffin / now-Des Cultes takes their hiatus to figure out their re-branding, Eddie is also pouring himself into the occult and designing the layout of his eventual bodysuit of tattoos. Most of the money he makes working for Rick or doing odd jobs goes into removing all of his current tattoos in order to have a blank canvas. Eventually, he decides to use Ars Goetia / The Lesser Keys of Solomon as his muse. ◦ 72 Sigils of the Evil Spirits. King Solomon was said to have made pacts with 72 demons of Hell, and wrote down ways to summon each of them, along with creating their sigils. The entirety of Eddie’s arms and legs are covered in sigils, ranging in size in order to fit every single one. ◦ Devil’s Trap: Placed on the center of his chest. Solomon created this symbol in order to control and immobilize demons he’d summoned. It’s similar to a circle of salt, however, more powerful and persistent due to its permanence. Eddie sees it as a means of protection; not from demons, but from those who wished, and still wish, him harm. ◦ Magical Circle & Triangle. Covers entire back. This collection of symbols was in the evocation of the 72 spirits. In the little story Eddie goes along with (especially in the lore created for Des Cultes), he uses his tattoo as both a summoning circle and a conduit to receive energy from the demons littering his body. ◦ Seal 13: Beneath Devil’s Trap tattoo. Out of the 44 Seals of Solomon, Eddie used this one in combination with the Devil’s Trap, as it’s meant to protect the wielder against harm. I could not find an image of a real person who had the bodysuit I had in mind. All the ones I saw were sigils mixed with unrelated tattoos or scattered willy-nilly all over the place in an aesthetically displeasing way. However, I found this lovely artwork created by Twitter user @ ObAngye that fit with most of what I had in mind, so I’m using this as a reference. Apologies for not using a real-life pic!

FAVORITES; Just an extra little tidbit! I mean, out of 72 different demons, he’s bound to have several favs. Below are the demons, ranks, and a brief explanation of why he likes them.

◦ Asmodeus: King. Primarily nostalgia-based, due to his former tattoo. Aside from its rebellious nature, it’s said Asmodeus grants invincibility to his conjurer and can answer any question they may have. It co-aligns with Eddie feeling invincible after barely escaping the witch-hunt, as well as Des Cultes’ lore that Eddie’s character is a representative of Satan and can grant knowledge and wishes. ◦ Beleth: King. Considered one of the most dangerous of the evil spirits. He grants knowledge to all who summon him, and can make anyone fall in love with his conjurer, even multiple people until they’re satisfied. As related to Des Cultes, Eddie wishes to ❛ seduce ❜ more people into following the band. Side-note: In another grimoire not written by King Solomon, it’s said one must wear a silver ring on their left middle finger in order to speak with Beleth. In keeping to that, Eddie can always be publicly seen with said ring. ◦ Phenix: Marquis. Extremely obedient to those who have the strength to summon him. He expresses a desire to return to Heaven some day, but he’s eventually deceived by those around him. Eddie sees this as being similar to his desire to clear his name, but understanding the events before the Hawkins earthquake will most likely follow him for most of his life, if not all of it. ◦ Stolas: Prince. A teacher of astronomy, history, and all things related to herbs, stones, and poisonous plants. Stolas is considered a pacifist, yet is also one of the most dangerous demons to cross at the same time. He often presents himself as an owl with elongated legs, a raven, or a gaunt young man. It’s said by those who’ve summoned him that he’s extremely talkative, and loves to relay his knowledge and gossip with like-minded individuals. Eddie feels he basically is Stolas, due his penchant for rambling and taking people under his wing.

#▓ ▌ ⊰ HEADCANON ⊱ ◦ this wretched mischief is now coursing through your soul.#[[ under the read-more is just his fav sigils ]]

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cultesdesghoules · 2 years

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『•• headcanon 04 ... eddie ••』 ⤷ tattoo trajectory (not including canon tattoos)

BEFORE THE HUNT. ◦ 010. Received from Hawkin’s Laboratory during his nine year stay. After his escape, his PTSD-induced memory loss and the lies he was told by Wayne throughout his life made him question why he had it to begin with. None of what Wayne ever mentioned made any sense. It isn’t until the events of season 1 begin that his memories and nightmares start to worsen that he starts piecing it all together. However, he opts for drugs to reduce said memories / nightmares, and they aren’t fully awakened until Vecna’s powerful resurgence in season 4. Post-S4, the tattoo is slightly altered from scarring inflicted by the demobats. ◦ SIGIL OF ASMODEUS. Keeping up with his freak status, Eddie had dabbled here and there with the occult, even though he’s not fully into it during his school years. He read about the Seven Princes of Hell, and decided that getting Asmodeus’s sigil on the left side of his chest was the most rebellious, as he is the embodiment / representation of the sin Lust. AFTER THE HUNT. Despite clearing his name, there are many who are still suspicious of Eddie, thinking he may have been able to find a loophole in the law, is a Satanist leading a cult, etc. Instead of fighting against it, he leans heavily into the rumors, deciding to transform his body into a work of art for the false deity that placed him on this path in life. As ex-Corroded Coffin / now-Des Cultes takes their hiatus to figure out their re-branding, Eddie is also pouring himself into the occult and designing the layout of his eventual bodysuit of tattoos. Most of the money he makes working for Rick or doing odd jobs goes into removing all of his current tattoos in order to have a blank canvas. Eventually, he decides to use Ars Goetia / The Lesser Keys of Solomon as his muse. ◦ 72 SIGILS OF THE EVIL SPIRITS. King Solomon was said to have made pacts with 72 demons of Hell, and wrote down ways to summon each of them, along with creating their sigils. The entirety of Eddie’s arms and legs are covered in sigils, ranging in size in order to fit every single one. ◦ DEVIL’S TRAP: Placed on the center of his chest. Solomon created this symbol in order to control and immobilize demons he’d summoned. It’s similar to a circle of salt, however, more powerful and persistent due to its permanence. Eddie sees it as a means of protection; not from demons, but from those who wished, and still wish, him harm. ◦ MAGICAL CIRCLE & TRIANGLE. Covers entire back. This collection of symbols was in the evocation of the 72 spirits. In the little story Eddie goes along with (especially in the lore created for Des Cultes), he uses his tattoo as both a summoning circle and a conduit to receive energy from the demons littering his body. ◦ SEAL 13: Beneath Devil’s Trap tattoo. Out of the 44 Seals of Solomon, Eddie used this one in combination with the Devil’s Trap, as it’s meant to protect the wielder against harm. I could not find an image of a real person who had the bodysuit I had in mind. All the ones I saw were sigils mixed with unrelated tattoos or scattered willy-nilly all over the place in an aesthetically displeasing way. However, I found this lovely artwork created by Twitter user @ ObAngye that fit with most of what I had in mind, so I’m using this as a reference. Apologies for not using a real-life pic! - [CLICK HERE FOR BODYSUIT IMAGE]

FAVORITES; Just an extra little tidbit! I mean, out of 72 different demons, he’s bound to have several favs. Below are the demons, ranks, and a brief explanation of why he likes them.

◦ ASMODEUS: King. Primarily nostalgia-based, due to his former tattoo. Aside from its rebellious nature, it’s said Asmodeus grants invincibility to his conjurer and can answer any question they may have. It co-aligns with Eddie feeling invincible after barely escaping the witch-hunt, as well as Des Cultes’ lore that Eddie’s character is a representative of Satan and can grant knowledge and wishes. ◦ BELETH: King. Considered one of the most dangerous of the evil spirits. He grants knowledge to all who summon him, and can make anyone fall in love with his conjurer, even multiple people until they’re satisfied. As related to Des Cultes, Eddie wishes to ❛ seduce ❜ more people into following the band. Side-note: In another grimoire not written by King Solomon, it’s said one must wear a silver ring on their left middle finger in order to speak with Beleth. In keeping to that, Eddie can always be publicly seen with said ring. ◦ PHENIX: Marquis. Extremely obedient to those who have the strength to summon him. He expresses a desire to return to Heaven some day, but he’s eventually deceived by those around him. Eddie sees this as being similar to his desire to clear his name, but understanding the events before the Hawkins earthquake will most likely follow him for most of his life, if not all of it.

#osculumobscenum • eddie #osculumobscenum • headcanon

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tcmmykinard · 2 years

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Why are the writers trying so hard to make these characters heteronormativity? I’ve never seen two people more in love. How do the writers justify their poor writing? When will they realize that yes we love Tarlos, but we have been watching these two fall in love for years. The actors have made choices that make it clear the their characters are in love on a much deeper level than any of their opposite sex relationship can handle.

The jealousy is real, tang-able, and there is no denying the pure hate for anyone the other is with.

Am I missing something here? Or are the writers just so lost in their initial vision?

Please help me understand.

so i’m going to assume you are talking about buck & eddie.. it is true that the actors have made choices that are very indicative to there being maybe something more; oliver and ryan did give us the ship name, are very supportive of the fans, have been known to share artwork and make little nods in the way they do scenes but you also have to keep in mind that it isn’t just the actors that do these nods to the ship - the writers, directors, creators etc. are all involved in this and just because we have interviews with the writers/directors/creators that say one thing, doesn’t mean they aren’t lying - they’ve done so multiple times now and they aren’t going to just give up secrets on what they have in store for these two characters; they’ve lied for less on character plot lines, for example..

that being said, i do have a few things that i do disagree with you on - comparing tk & carlos to buck & eddie isn’t where you should be thinking in terms of “we have that gay couple, why don’t we have buck & eddie, too?”, they’re entirely different.

i can’t really agree with you about the show having poor writing like.. are we watching the same show at all? if we get buck & eddie as a couple, then this is such a good slow burn where it’s the opposite of tk & carlos (no hate btw, and what you were previously vaguely complaining about not getting to see them fall in love), well.. this could very well be exactly that. we have seen them go through dislike of each other (one could say enemies to friends), becoming friends slowly, getting very close and being there for each other through everything - this could be such a massive and amazing slow burn that would be SO worth it to see to the end, but we can’t just immediately jump into it, especially now when they aren’t ready. do you really want buck & eddie to go canon during a time where neither of them are mentally healthy enough to even be in a good relationship with the partners they’ve been with for nearly a year respectively on both ends? (prev. ana/eddie and now taylor/buck). and while i'm on the topic of their other relationships with women - your mentioning of 'heteronormativity' kind of surprised me a little. i mean, for eddie, we've not seen anything to show that he's ever been interested in anyone but ana and shannon in his past - we don't see him in relationships often at all and both, granted, failed pretty quickly. for buck, he's definitely been in lots of relationships that we've seen with women but they've also kind of made a few (maybe, maybe not so) subtle nods at him being bisexual or at least not against the idea of also dating men, so i guess i'm not on the same page with you on the view that the writers are set in a heteronormative mindset for them.

and saying that the jealousy is 'tangible and there is no denying the pure hate for anyone the other is with’, i see people saying that mostly about eddie at taylor, but.. i don’t see it. like, sure, he doesn’t treat her like they are best friends or even that close but .. i don’t get the impression that he ‘hates’ taylor - we’ve barely seen them in a handful of scenes together. and buck never hated ana at all.. he was very empathetic to her and made a point out of it and never once did we see buck say a bad thing about shannon or even insinuate that he ever disliked her, he has also been empathetic to her in the past as well.

also, i do have to say that even if we do not get buck & eddie as a couple on this show (no, it’s not queerbaiting no matter how you look at it), just look at the relationship they have formed that we get to see between these two.. they are so close, are best friends and trust each other with their lives, eddie trusts buck with his child and has given over parental rights if something where to happen to him like.. they don’t have to be a couple to be something so important to each other in so many ways that we never see on television .. so even if they don’t go canon.. they can’t take away what we already have between the two and i honestly can’t say that i have much to complain about for that alone.

SO with all of that said and if you made it this far, if you are ever looking for ways to feel more validated in what we see with buck & eddie, @matan4il always makes the best metas for buddie and always makes the best points and parallels that just.. blows my mind with how she catches them all!! it's def a good way to feel validated in remembering that we have a great ship and amazing people in this fandom that believe the writers are on to something big! ❤

#asks #anderson-matt81 #buddie #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911 fox #911

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rantrambles · 3 years

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Ever get so upset you make a Tumblr account to vent?

I haven’t even listened to The Penumbra Podcast yet but it’s on my list because it’s insanely popular and the cosplays I’ve seen are hot as hell (A+ to all the cosplayers I’ve seen you’ve done great work). Now, with the recent news surrounding the podcast, I’ll wait till it’s done if I ever do get into it. I’m Asian and part of the LGBT community but I’m not nonbinary so I can’t say much about the trans represention in the art but I wanted to add my two cents on the matter as a person of color and someone examining the situation from the outside. Also, before I get deeply into it, I’m not the only person of color with opinions on this matter so if people have their own frustrations and criticism with the racism in The Penumbra Podcast and/or the new artist they hired, definitely listen to them too. These are my own personal opinions, and I’m sure other people will disagree and that’s fine. We’re all going to have different views on this so bear that in mind. Also, feel free to correct me or add anything if I’ve missed some information. Here’s a great breakdown of the whole situation for those that don’t know what happened. Finally, I was very hesitant to post this, but I felt it was important because I make a statement at the end on how race should be presented in a podcast format so if you are interested in making a podcast and want to have a diverse range of characters, please skip to the end to read those thoughts.

I’ll start off by saying, I’m not even that upset with the new artist that The Penumbra Podcast hired. I know that statement alone is controversial but I don't personally know them, and I’m not going to judge who they are as a person by a few pieces of art they’ve made. They are the least of the problems that I have here. Since the announcement and the backlash, I’ve been scrolling through the artist’s Instagram account and I can tell why people find the designs offensive, but I’m also comparing the designs to the artist’s other work, and I honestly believe that’s just their style. They’ve exaggerated the features of just about every character they’ve made, regardless of race or gender. From what I’ve seen the sharp angles and overly round curves in the anatomy that make some of the character’s features more jarring are how they prefer to draw. I’m sure they’re capable of drawing more realistic proportions but for the most part they’re art aims to call attention, be bold, and create distinguished features. Not inherently a bad thing on its own.

And yeah I’d understand the issue if this were a scenario where the artist heard how these characters acted in the podcast and thought “hey, obviously this character is a black woman because they are super strong and therefore must have big muscles, no other woman could look like that” or “hey, this character has to be Asian because they act super seductive sometimes better draw them as such.” But from my understanding the race was already decided by previous official artists and a general description of the characters were already generated by the audience, similar to how The Magnus Archives leaned towards drawing scrawny Jon with black, greying hair and dark skin. The new artists couldn’t really change those features even if those features aren’t described in canon because a depiction that strayed too far from popular fandom interpretation would make the character’s unrecognizable to the fanbase.

I think the reason this became such a big issue for most people is because the new Penumbra artist used their exaggerated art style when making these characters and people of color and nonbinary folks already see themselves drawn as these exaggerated caricatures all the time (with those images being used to further discriminate against them). I’m sure the artist didn’t mean for their art to be offensive, but that of course doesn’t change how it was received.

According to some, the poses and expressions the artists chose did not fully represent the characters entirely and only served to further perpetuate harmful stereotypes, and I’ll have to take their word for it because I still haven’t listened to the podcast so I have no idea how the characters act. But again much of the criticism is based on the one line-up and doing a deeper dive into the artist’s work I managed to find artwork that was much less offensive. Here some art where Vespa is depicted in a non-violent pose and one where Vespa is in a threatening pose but not an overly violent one. Here is Peter drawn in a non-seductive pose. Hopefully, the artist truly does keep the criticisms in mind as they work on the new official art. I’m just not the type of person that wants to get the pitchforks out and cause this particular person to lose a job they seemed really excited about over their old character line-up, especially when that person is also part of a marginalized group.

Again, that’s just my opinion on that particular artist. Those who are offended by their art are still valid in how they feel, and the artist should absolutely take their criticism to heart to better how they represent the characters.

What I’m more upset about is that I think The Penumbra Podcast should never have released official art for their characters in the first place and that’s their mistake that they refuse to own up about. They have made it clear that the story was never meant to portray characters of colors, a fact emphasized by the fact they hired mostly white actors from the start. They only started releasing art of the characters to get a profit. And the thing is they know what they did was wrong. All I had to do was search Penumbra Podcast racism and there is a note on their website saying that they archived some old official art.

“We have discontinued all Penumbra merchandise that uses the original character designs, and in the meantime, any profits on the sales of that merchandise will go to the For The Gworls project. We also realize that the depiction of these characters as POC, while not appropriate for us to use in our marketing and merchandise, has nonetheless become personally meaningful to many POC listeners. For that reason, and because we do not wish to distance ourselves from our mistake, we are keeping these images on our website for archival purposes. Though we do want to make it clear that many of the main/featured voice actors are white and that we did not write the characters to represent any specific POC experience, you are, as always, free to imagine these characters in any way that you like.”

I went to their shop and they still sell posters and pins with the character’s faces on them, but they are donating it to a good cause so hopefully that stays the same. However, I still find it a little uncomfortable that they are still selling character merch and have plans to continue selling character merch. They have no right to dissuade the fans that already found representation in the characters, but they also have no right to profit off the representation that was built, regardless if they made the story.

Let’s compare this to another piece of popular media. I love Avatar the Last Airbender and, I liked the ATLA voice actors just fine but there should have been more people of color doing voice acting behind the screen too. The voice actors for that show were mainly white too, however, the creators knew that they would be making poc characters. That’s what makes the difference. Did they still choose to go with mostly white voice actors? Yes. Could they have done better and pay more people of color? Also yes. But I’m not as furious at them because they did their research on the cultures they were basing the ATLA world off of and intentionally gave us a show where Asians could see characters that looked like them represented on the screen. The Penumbra Podcast did not do any of that. Again, they openly admitted that it was never their intention to make the character’s people of color when they made the podcast so that goes to show no research was made to properly represent specific cultures. The color of the character’s skin in their official designs therefore became more of aesthetic choice rather than representation, and it wasn’t even their aesthetic choice to begin with!

Race isn’t a color you can just throw onto the character because you feel like it. So I want this to be a lesson to anyone that wants to make a podcast: if you want to include poc characters please do some research into the cultures you plan to represent the way you would with any other form of media. Just because the audience can’t see the characters and just because it’s harder to smoothly introduce the character’s appearance doesn’t mean you’re allowed to be lazy on how you present the characters. Do research before you start writing the first episode and take the time to hire poc actors. Hiring poc actors is actually the least that can be done to show representation. Also, since the audience cannot visually see the race of the characters on a podcast and it can’t typically be described the way you would in a book, you’ll have to be creative. It’s not my job to say how, but my suggestions would be, before the fans come up with their own image of the character, you need to establish race in the first few episodes or release character profiles on a website so that the fans know you canonically intended the characters to be of a certain race even if you aren’t able to mention it in the actual podcast. If you are unwilling to do any of these then the best route is to avoid stating race at all and allow the audience to build their own representation into your form of media. However, once this happens, you are not allowed to profit off popular fan interpretations. You lose all rights to create official art or images of the characters. You cannot use “we have a diverse cast of characters” when you market your story. It doesn’t matter whether you created the content or not, you did not create the representation for those minority groups.

It’s one thing for fans to build their own inclusivity into a form of art like a podcast, but it’s another thing for the creators who never worked to make the representation happen to take advantage of the representation that the listeners built for themselves. Thank you for attending my TedTalk.

#the penumbra podcast #podcast #race #the magnus archives #diversity in podcasts #diversity #tpp #tpp fanart

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firelxdykatara · 3 years

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Please don't reblog SessRin. She was 13 when he got her pregnant. When he first adopted her, she was 8.

Oi vey.

No, she wasn’t.

It’s really funny that somehow I know more about the source material than people who are actually in the fandom, despite being much more of a casual viewer, but like, it’s not that hard to look up??? And realize that Sesshomaru never ‘adopted’ her (fuck, I know that and I’ve only seen like three seasons of the show), because literally all their relationship consisted of was Rin following Sess around for a year (one (1) year), while basically taking care of herself (he didn’t even feed her ffs), occasionally with Jaken’s help. All Sess himself did was keep her alive, which.... man, if that’s what y’all consider a father/daughter relationship, I’m genuinely concerned. Especially since, after that year was over, Sesshomaru dropped her off in a human village so that she could be raised among her own kind and then choose, for herself, where she wanted to be. If that kind of relationship when Rin was young makes their relationship after she grew up off-putting to you, that’s completely valid! What isn’t valid is claiming that your feelings are the only valid ones, and that Sess must have had romantic feelings for her when she was a child, which is never suggested anywhere in canon.

Secondly, there’s no reason to believe she was thirteen when he got her pregnant, what???? Everyone looks weirdly young in Yashahime’s art style, for one thing, (though notably, she just doesn’t look that much younger in the birth scene than Kagome) but I’ve been over the timeline (more for curiosity’s sake than anything else) and, quite apart from the fact that Rin had no canon age in the OG series (idk how the fandom settled on 8, but that was never actually stated, and she could easily have been a few years older--she was small but also uhhhh she’d been living like a feral child and pretty constantly malnourished before Sesshomaru found her so she would have been tiny for her age anyway), at the youngest she’d have been 16 or so. Which you may not think is great, and that’s fine, but it’s not the worst thing to come out of canon pairings in shows, so I fail to see the issue there.

Sess is supposed to be physically/mentally 19, the way Inuyasha is meant to be physically/mentally 15. The show wasn’t great about conveying this, but no one yelled about 150 year-old half-demon Inuyasha falling for a high schooler, so??? (Nevermind that this is a staple in shows with immortal protagonists. Which isn’t everyone’s cuppa, and that’s fine, but I get the appeal. I kinda have to, Bangel being one of my ultimate OTPs.) They are demons. They don’t view human lives and mortality and morality the same way we do. They don’t have to! It’s actually really interesting to think about that juxtaposition, how demons view humans but then some of them fall in love and those views change, and how half-demons bridge the gap between those two worlds... it’s fascinating. And for Sesshomaru, famously disdainful of humankind, to have fallen in love with a human woman and had half-demon kids of his own??? That’s even better.

I really gotta ask, though, who y’all even thought that human might be before the reveal lmao.

The thing is, I’m not even really in this fandom. I have a passing interest, I’ve seen a good chunk of the show and enjoyed it, I don’t really ship anything except inukag and a bit sesskag because I’ve seen some artwork and fanworks that really intrigue me, but I thought that piece of art was cute and reblogged it. I don’t have any real opinions on the ship itself, except that people are losing their minds for no reason, because it’s easy to blacklist tags and block content and also if the show itself disgusts you bc of its canon pairings then don’t watch it??? There are plenty of shows I don’t watch because I hate the things they do in canon (see: why i never got into Game of Thrones) but I’m not about to ask people to not reblog things from those shows just bc I don’t like them. If it bothers me that much, there’s blacklisting and tumblr’s filter system. Also blocking, if it’s really that huge a deal.

But I’ve never had patience with this kind of argument where, like, people who really hate a ship have decided that it MUST be pedophilia, despite their insistence on information that isn’t even canon, like. It happened to me, not long back, when a group of atla blogs decided that Jiang was an adult, despite there being no canon basis for that belief (and a lot of canon basis for her being a teenager, since all her crew were around the gaang’s ages), and so if I shipped her with Katara I must be a pedo. I hated it then, and I hate it now, and if you don’t like my particular stance on this, you don’t have to, but I’m not budging.

For the record, I always tag ship things, and I tagged that post, so if you hate sessrin, I implore you, please blacklist or filter the tag. It’s genuinely not that difficult. And I’m not even in the fandom, but I’m also not gonna go out of my way not to reblog things if I find them cute or the art good or whatever, so I can’t promise I’ll never reblog sessrin again lmao

#sessrin #yashahime #how am i not even in this fandom but getting into discourse #asked #awryen

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 4 years

Text

✨ Writing Requests CLOSED!! ✨

***Artwork above by shimmeryspark***

***Miss Raven reaction art by loliya-art***

***Banner assets by starry-eyes-inc***

✨ You can find my ask box here! ✨

Currently working on writing: Chilling for now, so nothing!

DMs are for business inquiries only!!

Do not copy/claim my writing as your own or use it for your own projects (such as AI generated writing).

Note: I use a mix of Japanese and English terms in my writing. Please refer to this key for equivalents between the terms used in both versions of TWST if you are confused!

Meet the blog’s mascot and muse, Miss Raven! (***Note: you can make fan art of her, but please ask for permission if you want to draw/write her with your own OC(s).***)

Read the writing request rules! There’s separate birthday blog takeover rules.

The masterlist directory has my past works!

Want other ways to support my blog? Check out my commissions! I also have a ko-fi!

For OC content, look at my side blog!

Want to brain rot? Join the Discord server!

Common Tags:

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Commonly Asked Questions:

“Where do you find the manga raws? Can you share them with me?”

Manga raws come from Monthly GFantasy, which publishes a new chapter digitally on the 18th (JST; may be the 17th depending on where you live in the world) each month. If you want access to them, you must may a subscription fee.

I cannot provide full chapters to the public, as this is paid content that I receive from my own friends who subscribe to GFantasy. I only share snippets I find interesting while blotting out the JP text to make my own commentary.

"I'm stuck on this battle! Can you help me build a team?/I need help with my Guest Room! How can I increase the comfort level?”

Please consult a gameplay-oriented blog (I recommend TWST Gameplay) for assistance! (You'll find that I'm pretty useless with battle and Guest Room composition, I just wing it.)

“Can you translate this for me?/Where can I find translations for this vignette or story event?”

This isn’t a translation blog! Please do your own research first by typing what you’re looking for into a search engine. Chances are you’ll be able to find what you’re looking for on a wiki or on another blog. If you still can’t find it then, go ask for it from a TWST translator that is taking requests (I recommend Mystery Shop TLs).

“Where can I find manga/light novel translations?”

If you're looking for just manga scans, here (though please keep in mind that they may not be entirely up-to-date since it takes time to clean and translate): Heartslabyul / Savanaclaw / Octavinelle There is currently no one I know with plans to translate the entire light novel, though there is an official localization planned for release in summer 2024. There is also an official English localization for the manga, which is slowly being released. Right now, they've got 3 volumes of the Heartslabyul manga out.

“I want to buy this merch item! Where and how can I do that?”

TWST releases a LOT of merch, some of which are limited and some of which are collab items hosted on other sites, so there is no singular location where you can purchase any and all TWST merch. Try looking around yourself first using key terms!

Secondly, several merch items are region-locked to Japan. You will need to find a proxy service or reseller to acquire these items.

“Can you give me your headcanons for who would voice the characters in an English dub?”

Sorry 😓 I’m not into the VA scene and I’m not interested in doing the research to find my ideal matches for NRC’s large cast.

“What do you think happens after book 7? What do you want to happen after book 7?”

No particularly strong theories on this. I do, however, want to actually see Yuu going home. It would also be cool to learn more about RSA students after book 7, but I don’t want them to rehash the OB formula.

“Can I translate your writing into my own language?”

Yes, but only if you credit me and my blog (by full name). You must also link back to the original English post and/or my blog.

Do not say, “credit goes to the OP” or “credit goes to the author”. You must explicitly state my blog’s name (“credit goes to Raven-at-the-Writing Desk on Tumblr” + the link to it).

"Can you look at my fic or OC and give me feedback/advice?"

I do not feel comfortable with cold messages from strangers with these types of requests. If you would like proofreading, please consider commissioning me! If you're looking for general writing advice: On Writing Blogs / OCs / Getting Back Into Writing / UMs / Writing In Character

"How many asks are in your inbox right now? When will you get to responding to mine?"

I'm afraid I can't give an exact number for my inbox! Just know that there's usually quite a few asks in there, so it may take me a while to get around to yours. I try to prioritize talking about the most recent content, with more generalized asks or asks covering old topics coming later.

Keep in mind that I do NOT respond to all asks that I receive. In the case that you sent something in and it has been a few months, chances are that I did not feel comfortable replying or didn't have an interest in replying.

"When will your writing requests open again?"

When I feel like it! ^^

#update #announcement #notes from the writing raven

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tigerkirby215 · 3 years

Text

5e Sona, the Maven of the Strings build (League of Legends)

(Artwork by Shilin Huang. Made for Riot Games.)

(Shit meme by yours truly.)

Revealing my Champion Mastery just to say that I play a lot of Sona. Don’t flame me for playing Seraphine and Yuumi I swear to god, and I have no idea why Teemo is in my top 10 highest mastery champs ngl.

Anyways you have no idea how happy I am as a Sona main that my girl is now top tier. I came to League of Legends from Overwatch (yes really) and I used to main Lucio in OW along with some of the more “techy” characters like Symmetra and Torbjorn. (Came to OW from TF2 where I mained Engineer and Medic.) Sona was a natural fit for me as a champion who was both easy to play and very similar to Lucio. It also helps that I joined the Rift during the single most engaging meta to ever grace this game. I was kinda too shit to play Janna but the Ardent Censer meta is also why I have such a high mastery on Lulu tbh.

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But enough about my history with League: Sona! Honestly when I think of an archetypical support Sona pops into my head a lot sooner than Soraka: a champion based on empowering their teammates in as many ways as possible with heals, shields, movement speed, and CC to hold the enemy team down. I’ve always loved playing her because she feels like much more of a macro oriented character than other supports, with team-wide support as opposed to keeping one person alive like Soraka or Yuumi or focusing on CC like Morgana and Nami.

I’m going to build most if not all the champions eventually but man I am happy to tackle Sona now. She’s always been on my mind as my main but it was pretty difficult to think of how to make her. I think this build is good enough though!

Wow that was much longer of an intro than I’m used to. You can really tell which champions I’m excited for lol.

GOALS

Everything in harmony - Sona boosts everyone on her team with her songs as they fill the air.

Triple time! - Sona’s ability to boost her whole team into a good position is always beneficial.

Crescendo! - Fun fact: Sona’s ultimate is canonically extremely painful as she forces you to contort your limbs against your will. Why is Sona needlessly macabre? Well remember that Riot also wrote Volibear as an Eldritch old god.

RACE

Sona is Human but if you want to be cool you can make her a Kalashtar for resistance to Psychic damage and advantage on Wisdom saves. Regardless we’re going to be making what’s known as a dollar store Kalashtar with Variant Human. Increase your Charisma by 1 as well as your Constitution because we kinda don’t need much else. You also get proficiency in one skill of your choice which will of course be Performance, and a language which you can pick as you fancy: you won’t be speaking it anyways lmfao.

That’s because “Only you can hear me summoner; what masterpiece shall we play today?” Grab the Telepathic feat to complete this dollar store Kalashtar package. Increase your Charisma score by 1 and get a 60 foot telepathy to speak while being mute. You also learn the Detect Thoughts spell and can cast it once without using a spell slot. "Did he want... four autographs? I don't understand."

ABILITY SCORES

15; CHARISMA - Charisma is tied to performance and all the other stuff a Demacian noblewoman is expected to be good at.

14; DEXTERITY - Something something medium armor; even if you wear a dress there’s no reason you can’t have some padding beneath it!

13; STRENGTH - Hey this isn’t something something medium armor!

12; CONSTITUTION - Sona may be squishy in League but I value not dying more than good skill checks honestly.

10; WISDOM - Speaking of not dying: Wisdom saves are more common, and Insight is more useful than most Intelligence skills.

8; INTELLIGENCE - We had to dump something so unfortunately Intelligence gets the short end of the stick. You may have studied under the illustrious Buvelle family but most of those lessons were music classes.

If you want a better stat array going 13 / 14 / 12 / 10 / 10 / 14 with Point Buy is perfectly viable, and if your DM is cool enough to let you multiclass without Strength then you’re more than welcome to dump it.

BACKGROUND

There’s two obvious backgrounds that fit Sona: the first is Entertainer for proficiency with Acrobatics and a skill of your choice (since we already took Performance lol.) You also get proficiency with Disguise Kits and your Etwahl! (That’s what Sona’s instrument is called btw.) Your background feature By Popular Demand allows you to play any stage once. "Some, just the once.” You can perform in exchange for a place to stay, and when you do so the local people will remember your wonderful performance!

But making an Entertainer Bard is kinda cliché, no? If you want to lean into Sona’s Demacian heritage go for the Noble background. This gives you proficiency with Persuasion and History as well as a gaming set of your choice: unfortunately Tellstones isn’t an option (unless your DM decides otherwise!) so a Dragonchess Set will do well enough. Oh and you get another language that you won’t speak: fun! Your Position of Privilege makes it easy for you to arrange meetings with other important people, and the commonfolk will be kind and cordial with you.

(Screenshot from the Tellstones: King’s Gambit trailer by Riot Games.)

I personally opted to go for Noble when making this build, but if you want to choose Entertainer go right ahead! Backgrounds don’t affect too much overall and it’s up to you (and your DM) to make your own Sona!

(Artwork from League of Legends Wild Rift. Made for Riot Games. RIOT PLEASE UPDATE MUSE SONA ON PC I’M BEGGING YOU!)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - BARD 1

I mean what else did you expect? Bards get proficiency in three musical instruments of their choice: a Lyre is the closest you’ll get to Sona’s Etwahl, though a Dulcimer is also pretty close. I’d also recommend grabbing a Lute since most magical instruments come in Lute variety.

You also get proficiency in 3 skills of your choice like Perception to watch wards, Insight to watch people, and Athletics for a bit of Tenacity to break out of grapples. (As well as potentially grab some people yourself! Although Acrobatics is also perfectly fine for escaping grapples.)

As a Bard you can boost your ADC with Bardic Inspiration, letting them add a d6 to attack rolls, ability checks, and saving throws. You have a number of these equal to your Charisma modifier and they come back after a Long Rest.

But of course the main reason to play a Bard is to do Demacian-banned Spellcasting! You learn two cantrips from the Bard list like Vicious Mockery for some diminuendo, making it harder for the enemy to hurt your allies while also cutting them down to size. (I don’t know if your DM will let you slap your Etwahl angrily and then point at them judgingly, but you may have to break your vow of silence every now and then.) You can also learn Prestidigitation for all sorts of general magic stuff that you really shouldn’t do in front of anyone important.

You of course also learn 4 Bard spells like Cure Wounds and Healing Word for the atypical healing spells, Dissonant Whispers for some Hymn of Valor damage, and Detect Magic which you’ll likely be expected to cast as the designated support. *Sigh* Always gotta buy wards.

LEVEL 2 - BARD 2

Second level Bards could be called a Jack of All Trades, as you get to add half your proficiency bonus to any skill you aren’t proficient in. This means even if your ability scores are bad the skills you don’t have proficiency in are still good enough! You also get Song of Rest, letting your allies recover an extra d6 of health during Short Rests. And if you have Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything Magical Inspiration will let your allies add their Bardic Inspiration to the damage or healing of a spell they cast!

And finally you can learn another spell: against as the designated support you’re expected to take Identify.

LEVEL 3 - BARD 3

Third level Bards get Expertise in two skills: Performance is an obvious must and Persuasion would probably be good as well.

But more importantly you get to choose your Bardic College and if you want to both shield your allies and speed them up look no further than the College of Glamour! That’s because Mantle of Inspiration grants 5 temporary hitpoints to a number of creatures within 60 feet of you equal to your Charisma modifier (which can include yourself by the way!) Additionally those creatures can move up to their movement speed as a reaction without provoking opportunity attacks, making this a great tool to reposition an ally who’s caught in a dangerous position!

You’re also capable of creating an Enthralling Performance: if you perform for at least 1 minute, you can attempt to inspire wonder in your audience. At the end of the performance you can choose a number of humanoids within 60 feet of you who watched and listened to all of it, up to a maximum equal to your Charisma modifier. Each target must succeed on a Wisdom saving throw or be charmed by you.

While charmed in this way, the target idolizes you, and speaks glowingly of you to anyone who talks to them. They also hinder anyone who opposes you, although they avoid violence unless it was already inclined to fight for you. This effect ends on a target after 1 hour unless they take any damage, you attack it, or it witnesses you attacking or damaging any of its allies. If a target succeeds on its saving throw the target has no hint that you tried to charm it, and you can use this ability once per Short or Long Rest.

Finally you can learn second level spells like Hold Person, for a one-man version of your ultimate.

LEVEL 4 - BARD 4

Ah the first of many Ability Score Improvements. You may have noticed our deliberately uneven Charisma modifier: that’s because I’m going to be taking the Fey Touched feat for +1 to your Charisma, the Misty Step spell (for Flash, of course), and the Gift of Alacrity spell from Explorer’s Guide to Wildemount for a Song of Celerity! Accelerated movement? I concur.

You can also learn another spell as well as another cantrip! For your cantrip take Mage Hand for help warding those hard-to-reach areas, and for your spell take Lesser Restoration, because yeah it’s also your job to buy Mikael’s. *Sigh.*

LEVEL 5 - BARD 5

5th level Bards get a Font of Inspiration that lets their Bardic Inspiration come back after a Short Rest as well as a Long Rest. That’s good because your Bardic Inspiration increases to a d8, which also boosts your Mantle of Inspiration to grant 8 temporary hitpoints!

You can also learn another spell like Hypnotic Pattern: while it won’t do any damage and your allies can’t hit the dancing enemies it’ll still be the best recreation of your ultimate for now.

(Artwork by Katie “TeaTime” De Sousa. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 6 - PALADIN 1

I hope you weren’t expecting this to be a pure Bard build, because then I’d just be building Seraphine again! Grab your something something Medium Armor as well as a shield (well technically you need both hands free to play a musical instrument) it’s Paladin time, master of auras!

Paladins get a Lay on Hands pool equal to 5 times their Paladin level for some more healing. You can touch a creature to give them any amount of health from your Lay on Hands, or use 5 hitpoints from your Lay on Hands pool to neutralize a poison or disease affecting them. You also get Divine Sense to locate any Celestial, Fiend, or Undead as long as they’re within 60 feet of you and not behind total cover. Don’t worry it gets a lot more exciting later.

LEVEL 7 - PALADIN 2

Second level Paladins can choose their Fighting Style and you’re still more of a mage than a warrior, so Blessed Warrior will give you two cantrips from the Cleric list that use your Charisma! Guidance is an obvious must for a support and Toll the Dead is a great option if you want to go full AP.

Should you have options for attacks to target enemies who have high Wisdom? Yeah probably: Sacred Flame might be a good choice.

Of course cantrips also imply more Spellcasting! You can prepare a number of spells equal to your Charisma modifier plus half your Paladin level (rounded down) which is currently a freaking lot of spells. Let’s just go down the list, shall we?

Bless is great to buff your team and make them harder, better, faster, and stronger.

Command is a mostly harmless Enchantment spell that will force your foes to do as you, well, command. I’d argue “dance” is a reasonable Command.

Protection from Evil and Good is never bad to have in your back pocket in case you’re fighting either Kayle or Fiddlesticks.

And Shield of Faith will let you boost your ADC’s survivability with Ardent Censer!

I know you can prepare more spells but there isn’t much I want from first level of Paladin. I am contractually obligated to mention that you can also turn your spell slots into a Divine Smite if you hit an enemy with a melee weapon, but you aren’t really going to be using weapons in this build. That’s right boys hop aboard the caster Paladin train!

LEVEL 8 - PALADIN 3

Third level Paladins get to choose their Sacred Oath and Oath of the Watchers may seem weird but it’s really good at defending your allies. That’s because you get two different Channel Divinity options: Abjure the Extraplanar works similarly to the Cleric’s Turn Undead feature except it affects Aberrations, Celestials, Elementals, Fey, and Fiends.

Watcher’s Will meanwhile lets you choose a number of creatures you can see within 30 feet of you, up to your Charisma modifier. For 1 minute, you and the chosen creatures have advantage on Intelligence, Wisdom, and Charisma saving throws. This means that in a party of 6 this ability can give your whole party advantage on all mental saves, which is huge for keeping everyone alive against nasty casters! See? Demacia can use your magic!

Speaking of magic you get Alarm and Detect Magic as Oath spells. (Might want to swap Detect Magic from your Bard list with Mass Healing Word ty Tasha’s.) You can also use Harness Divine Power to regain a spell slot equal to half your proficiency bonus a number of times per Long Rest. And you get Divine Health, because you don’t take a sick day to stop complaining about Seraphine.

LEVEL 9 - PALADIN 4

4th level Paladins get another Ability Score Improvement: cap off that Charisma for maximum AP scaling!

(Artwork by Kelly Aleshire & Esben Lash Rasmussen. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 10 - PALADIN 5

5th level Paladins can finally prepare second level spells! As a Watchers Paladin you get access to Moonbeam as well as See Invisibility, both of which are very good for dealing with incoming gankers.

You can also prepare spells like Aid to boost your allies’ HP, Prayer of Healing (ty Tasha’s) for some out-of-combat healing, and Warding Bond for a Knight’s Vow.

Oh and you get an Extra Attack, which sure would matter if you were actually using weapons.

LEVEL 11 - PALADIN 6

6th level reasons get the main reason Sona’s a Paladin: Aura of Protection! All your saving throws are increased by an amount equal to your Charisma modifier, which is a full +5 currently! But what’s special about this ability is that it also applies to your allies within 10 feet of you, letting you give out auras a plenty to keep your allies safe!

You can also prepare another spell but again: not much I really want. So we’re going to be waiting a little while longer once again.

LEVEL 12 - PALADIN 7

7th level Watchers Paladins get Aura of the Sentinel, or as I like to call it: Song of Celerity. When you or any creature of your choice within 10 feet of you roll for initiative, they gain a bonus to initiative equal to your proficiency bonus. While this may make positioning a little difficult (everyone’s going to have to huddle around you) this ability guarantees that you can speed up all your important allies to make sure they get their powerful abilities off!

LEVEL 13 - PALADIN 8

8th level Paladins get another Ability Score Improvement or a Feat. You may have noticed your uneven Constitution score: grab good ol’ Resilient Constitution for a boost to your health and even more insurance on your Concentration checks. With your Paladin aura and proficiency you’d have a +12 total to your Constitution checks currently, meaning that if you take 24 damage or less you won’t even have to roll for Concentration!

LEVEL 14 - PALADIN 9

You are probably the only Paladin who cares about spells, so it’s nice that you get 3rd level spells now! Watchers Paladins get two very strong third level spells: Nondetection will help you deward and keep your allies safe from enemies that may try to sneak a peak at you, but Counterspell is the true best choice to stop danger from befalling your allies. What’s very good about Counterspell is that as a Bard you get to add Jack of All Trades to the skill check, meaning it’s far easier for you to deny an incomming spell than any other spellcaster! “Mages have enough problems without you.”

Of course you can prepare some more spells like Aura of Vitality for Aria of Perseverance, and Revivify for an ADC’s Guardian Angel. But having access to spells like Remove Curse, Dispel Magic, Crusader’s Mantle, and even Daylight on the Paladin spell list are all extremely useful to be able to prepare. Remember that you are doing yourself a disservice by not taking time to think about what the best spells to prepare would be for your current quest. "Every note is important."

(Artwork by Kelly Aleshire & Esben Lash Rasmussen. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 15 - BARD 6

Now that we’ve got all our auras it’s time to go back to Bard for Mantle of Majesty! As a bonus action, you cast Command without expending a spell slot as you take on an appearance of unearthly beauty for 1 minute. During that minute you can cast Command as a bonus action on each of your turns without expending a spell slot. Additionally any creature charmed by you automatically fails its saving throw against the command you cast with this feature. You do have to concentrate on this feature (like a spell), and once you use it you can’t do so again until you finish a long rest.

You can also learn another spell but there isn’t much I want from the third level of Bard, really. Oh and you get Countercharm which is awful and I hate it, but since you didn’t take a 10th level in Paladin I suppose you have to use it. Spend an action to give allies advantage on their saving throws against charms and fears, I guess.

LEVEL 16 - BARD 7

7th level Bard; 4th level spells. Freedom of Movement will let you help either yourself or an ally with Mikael’s Crucible, and Dimension Door is great to get into lane fast, or back to base fast!

LEVEL 17 - BARD 8

8th level Bards get another Ability Score Improvement, and if you don’t like the look of something something Medium Armor then the Eldritch Adept feat might be able to help. Take the Mask of Many Faces invocation to be able to cast Disguise Self at will to change your skins as you please.

Could you have taken this earlier? Absolutely. Are there better invocations? Yeah probably, but by level 17 you can make some of your own choices. Build your own Sona: this is merely a guide and you can make your own choices.

Speaking of own choices: take whichever spell you want at this level. There’s plenty of great ones for a 4th level Bard and I can’t recommend anything in particular to you. Every musician has their own style, and it’s up to you to find your own!

(Artwork by Yan Li. Made for Riot Games.)

LEVEL 18 - BARD 9

9th level Bards get to pretend that increasing Song of Rest from a d6 to a d8 by total level 18 is helpful.

You do get access to 5th level spells like Mass Cure Wounds, which is like Mass Healing Word but better! "Harmoniously."

LEVEL 19 - BARD 10

10th level Bards get Expertise in two more skills: Perception is an obvious must to watch over your wards but beyond that? Honestly pick your poison with whatever skill you want since by level 19 you can make your own choices. (Though my personal choice would be Athletics to hopefully give some more safety against grapples.)

But of course the main boon of reaching level 10 in Bard is the Magical Secrets! ...I’m afraid I’m going to have to disappoint you again: there honestly aren’t any spells in particular I want as Magical Secrets. Sure I could recommend spells like Haste or whatever but are they really going to be that great by total level 20? To be honest even the spells on the Bard list like Animate Objects, Greater Restoration, Hold Monster, Rary's Telepathic Bond, Scrying, and Synaptic Static are very good (although I’d sooner replace some of your old spells with them.)

Again I know this is supposed to be a “guide” but most people won’t hit level 19 anyways, so I don’t think it’s that bad for me to recommend you take your own steps to make your own Sona. Hell, build some AP if you want! I know I would!

LEVEL 20 - BARD 11

Our final level is the 11th level of Bard and I’ll be honest: it’s just to add Otto's Irresistible Dance to your spell list. It can only affect one person but it’s still your ultimate by total level 20.

Oh and you were supposed to get a cantrip last level. Uhhhhh I dunno take Mending lol.

FINAL BUILD

PROS

The rhythm connects us all - You have dozens of spells to keep your team alive and active during a fight, not to mention that all your Paladin auras and abilities really help them give 110%. It’s worth mentioning that Gift of Alacrity combined with Aura of the Sentinel is a d8 + 6 to an Initiative roll, which will almost always guarantee that whoever you want to go first will be going first!

A true masterpiece should celebrate living - Despite your somewhat weird level split you maxed out the only stat which matters for you: Charisma. And woah holy shit turns out Paladins are really good with maxed out Charisma! +5 to all saves means even your lowest save is a +4, and the saves your proficient in vary between +13 for Dexterity and Constitution (both very common!) and a whopping +16 save on Charisma!

Curtains up; I'm ready - Jack of All Trades also does quite nicely to help your middling skills. Even though I dumped most of your mental skills you’re still proficient enough that you won’t be completely helpless when caught off guard. And when you’re in the zone with Persuasion or Performance you are easily the best girl around!

CONS

Don't make me get off stage - It was my intention to recreate Sona’s positional gameplay with this build but it does present some gameplay issues when trying to maximize your effectiveness. Where do you position yourself as a character who’s still primarily a squishy caster despite your good saving throws and AC? Can you give everyone in your party support, or are they too spread out to get value out of your 10 foot range auras?

Quiet, please! - You have a damn good concentration check, but what do you concentrate on? Not only do you have a ton of spells but they all scale very good with levels and you have spell slots that go far higher than your maximum level spell. It can be hard to choose what to do with those 7th and 8th level slots.

The world is cruel... Until that changes, I'll never stop playing - One of many “meta” problems with this build was my choice to focus almost entirely on support. Sure Toll the Dead is a great damaging cantrip but your only two damaging spells are Moonbeam and Dissonant Whispers. Again: you don’t have to follow my build point-for-point and while you’ll be flamed in League for building Sona full AP I don’t think your friends will mind if you take some damaging spells.

But if you can’t tell it was really hard for me to come up with those downsides. With the exception of the positional requirements a Bardadin is a very strong build and Sona is a very strong support. Boost your teammates with your own amazing power and make sure everyone’s alive and jamming! Your power may have been forgotten over the years but no one’s ever upset to have a great support at their side. And remember: Seraphine may be in K/DA but you’re in Pentakill, and you have your own label! No one can replace DJ Sona!

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