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theveryworstthing · 3 years

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So over on patreon Trevor asked for my take on the Addams Family and I grew up LOVING the Addams family movies so here we are. Instead of doing a straight up style interpretation, I decided to do a full on design challenge, using the characters as bases to make a black southern gothic Addams au. I actually drew the kids first, using the character bases of Wednesday and Pugsley to create some delightful kiddos I'm calling Sunday and Blanche. I of course then redesigned Gomez and Morticia into Carlisle and Mortesha.

The Addams have a very specific high aristocratic goth aesthetic (they've got a butler and nobody really works among other things) so in this re-imagining I wanted to go with vibes that run a little more middle class/upper middle class. I thought it would be interesting to think about what would be considered weird and off-putting in an entirely different culture, and how being a big ol' goth is way less controversial than it used to be.

I tried to keep this short (HAHAHAHAHAHA) so I didn't spin off into an essay about villain coded families, black people in the horror genre, and normalcy as it pertains to social survival, but just...bits of that are in these designs and lore. Keep that in mind.

Also I made the kids twins because they've flip flopped in age so much in different media and also twins run in my family (i'm the daughter of one). And let's face it, I'm pulling a lot of their southern gothic traits from living as a southern goth so *shrug*.

10 thousand pounds of lore incoming loooooooooool.

The Parents

From the moment he saw her he knew that there was a 50/50 chance of him either never making it out of that swamp alive or marrying the figure that was creeping out from under the distant willow tree in a black cocktail dress. The third time she found him trussed up in one of her traps, he complimented her rope work and asked if she'd like to go out sometime after his head wound stopped bleeding.

Or while it was still bleeding.

If she was into that.

Some kids and a mysteriously burnt down Piggly Wiggly later, their love is still as strong and inescapable as a bear trap in a sink hole.

Carlisle Guillermo (now Addams through marriage but I wanted to give him two first names for a name since Gomez has two last names) makes a vaguely described living practicing ‘law’ around town. A loophole king, people come to him from miles around with contracts signed in blood, fights over chunks of hair buried in their rivals’ yard, dehydrated primate hands, memories that seemed like dreams until the evidence of their happenings became too real, and other regular Legal Items asking for counsel which he is all too happy to give. For a price. Sometimes that price is a homemade pie and sometimes it’s a million dollars, depends on who you are. Whatever you’re asked to pay it’s worth that price, and if you try to scam him out of work or he just plain doesn’t like you? Well. He knows how to twist a contract better than anything at the crossroads.

And he always gets his due.

He doesn’t just serve the local (living)humans though, there are many things that need proper legal representation in this day and age. You wouldn’t believe how many city councils try to build on sacred burial grounds even after he lets them know that his ghostly clients are totally gonna haunt the FUCK out of the ensuing shitty condos and curse their families for all eternity. At least 50% of his energy goes towards dealing with real estate bullshit.

Carl is an excitable and good natured(?) man who loves his family, cigars, dancing, and his many knife-based hobbies. People find him very charming once they get past the feeling that they’re talking to a sultry gator badly disguising itself as a human. I didn’t put a ton of deep thought into designing him, mostly I wanted to make a middle aged dude who looked like he would have been voted ‘most likely to smooch the literal devil’ in high school. Tbh he probably has, but no demonic ex’s can compare to his lovely wife~

Mortesha Addams(her name was already perfect so I just tweaked it)is a woman of many talents. A self proclaimed homemaker, she prides herself on a greenhouse full of Concerning Foliage, a beautiful wasp apiary, and a coop full of what are probably chickens that she keeps for what are probably eggs. She’s also an avid creator of the outsider art that can be seen around the estate. She has taken on the family business of selling her homemade goods in a little stall by the road just outside the swamp with her mom, and makes pretty good money doing so. A surprising amount of poison gets bought in quaint southern towns.

Speaking of poison, people who come out to the edge of the swamp to buy it are usually carrying a lot of secrets around, and Mortesha knows most of them. It’s not like she pries the truth out of people, it just so happens that many nervous hellos eventually turn into the tragic backstory power hour if she’s alone with a client for long enough. She supposes that’s just how people are. Despite the fact that the Addams are very active in the community (whether the community likes it or not) she especially, as a direct descendant of the first Addams matriarch, is seen as…Well not an outsider because the community feels A Certain Way about outsiders and despite it all the Addams are their people, but maybe something like an exception. They feel like whatever weirdness they’re hiding can’t be weirder than any given Addams, so they get a little loose with their words.

This is amusing to her, since Addams’ don’t naturally keep the kind dramatic secrets that their surface level prim and proper neighbors do. It’s much more fun to openly talk about those things.

Do they have a sadly decrepit yet terrifying grandma up in the attic? Yeah, like three. They got a tv, all the creepy porcelain dolls they could want, and they’re close to family. Where do you keep your gram-grams?

Any bodies buried on the property? Yeah some, but most are thrown to the gators.

Any creeping through the balmy summer night with ill intentions? Yeah dude, everyone loves a nice family stroll.

What about dangerous forbidden love? If an adult Addams isn’t incorporeal then they’re either queer or in a torrid romance with some person/thing mysteriously drawn to that awful swamp. Sometimes both at the same time. Most times actually.

Mortesha would know.

The current head of the Addams family is just as outgoing as her husband but a lot quieter and harder to read. She never really seems to get mad about much and always has a genteel smile for everyone whether they deserve it or not. A seven foot tall human shaped “Oh, bless your heart”. A perfectly composed Lady even when she’s, oh I dunno, burning down a Piggly Wiggly. You know. A regular southern mom. Chat her up at the hair salon for 50% off a jar of wasp honey with your next purchase of a mysterious but foreboding packet of herbs.

Designing her was pretty easy because I just drew a lankier Grace Jones and called it a day. I had some problems with her outfit simply because if we were going HARD southern gothic then she’d probably be wearing a white/cream dress with a fuller skirt but I thought keeping the silhouette and the black was more important. She’s supposed to be an anti southern gothic southern gothic character anyway. A woman who looks like she has a million secrets who is actually the most open person you could meet. For better or worse. The red hair came from a coloring error that I really ended up liking (my mom had red hair her whole childhood that only darkened up in high school so I can buy that an Addams can be naturally fire engine red) and the veil was to get more of that classic Morticia silhouette in there.

The Children

Sunday and Blanche are the twin children of Carlisle and Mortesha Addams. Some say the Addams clan got their cursed homestead when a wealthy local businessman made a deal with the devil and lost, leaving his grand mansion to his least favorite maid and cutting his losses once he realized that the swamp would do everything it could to drag the house into the water and take what was owed with its horrible curse. Others say that the family has just always squatted there and no one really cares because man, fuck that particular swamp. Have you been in there? Absolute horror show.

Anyway.

Blanche is the more outgoing sibling and quite the engineer/mad scientist in the making. He started going grey at 2 weeks old but considering he was also rocking some extra fingers, toes, and a tiny tail (he takes after his dad), his parents just put it on the 'not life threatening' pile and decided not to worry about it. He's the kind of smart that teachers find utterly infuriating, less a dog eagerly learning and obeying commands and more a hyena who keeps teaching itself how to pick locks. He has a few friends in his school's robotics club (which they honestly allowed him to make so the school could contain his... creations) but mostly hangs out with his sister exploring the swamp. They find all sorts of neat things in there! wedding rings, suspiciously lumpy garbage bags, cloaked cultists who can't read private property signs, it's an adventure every day!

Blanche is all about experimentation with his creations, his look, and his tether to this mortal coil. Is lipstick a cool thing to try? Let's find out. Can he get out of a strait jacket fast enough after being pushed into the depths of the swamp by his sister? let's find out. He's not dead yet and confused local doctors can attest to the fact that he's rarely attained more than a bad bruise so he's pretty set on continuing to kiss rattlesnakes on their cute little heads and have his sister practice her knife throwing at him until that fact changes.

Blanche is very much a country goth. Cowboy boots (customized by his mom), knife, and lighter are daily accessories. He likes to wear the crusty swamp jewelry they find (the rust adds a splash of color!) and despite appearances he does try to keep himself neat. He's just got natural Grunge Colors and a tendency to wear clothes he likes until they fall apart. Pugsley always seemed the most modernly styled to me (which might just be because little boys clothes have been the same for a long time) so I wanted Blanche to be the most purposely fashionable Addams. Everyone else is goth by nature, but he's the only one truly familiar with goth as an alternative fashion.

I got really into designing Blanche because honestly, I find Pugsley to be the most boring member of the family. And he was hard to design! I had to mess with his vibe a lot to get him looking how I wanted. I know he's supposed to evoke an " 'evil' little boy next door who's parents never reign him in", but that's just goth Dennis The Menace. I's 2020. We can at least go queer goth Calvin.

Sunday was much easier to design. Wednesday was my favorite as a child (of course) and I really wanted to keep the spirit of her look while adding things like billowy sleeves (it gets HOT down here), big poofy twists instead of braids, and a nice tie. She's a professional after all, been running the local pet cemetery since she was 6 and the previous groundskeeper met with an unfortunate accident after telling her that tarantulas don't have souls. Her specialty is creating beautiful naturalistic animal funerals similar to those that Maquenda (https://linktr.ee/artofmaquenda) makes, and she takes pride in creating miniature dioramas of her subjects after each burial which she uses as a kind of 3D catalog for future clients.

She really wants to try out her skills on humans one day. Well. Publicly try out her skills. Lotta random bodies float into the swamp. None of them have turned down her requests for diorama models so far. Most seem downright flattered. Plus, she usually figures out which graveyard/crime scene they floated over from and gets her parents to give them a lift back. She'll even help enact terrifying revenge from beyond the grave on whoever put them there if she's not, y'know, busy.

Besides arts, crafts, and pet based funerary arrangements, Sunday is an avid lover of archery (any ranged weapon really), books where little fantasy adventure animals die dramatic deaths, and history. She is That Kid who eagerly raises her hand when asked who Christopher Columbus was and ends up being sent out of class after 15 minutes for making 'a scene'. Her favorite party trick is just picking an item in the room and talking about how it relates to either some obscure historical figure with a buck wild life or a horrible disaster. At least one charity pancake breakfast ended with children in tears after her vivid description of the Great Molasses Flood of 1919.

Social-wise, while Wednesday is the girl that people ask to smile because they think she'd, "look so pretty", Sunday is rarely asked anything at all. People just kind of assume from her quiet nature (in between horrible history facts) that she's angry all the time and that she hates everyone. This is untrue. She hates some people but she's ambivalent to most everyone else and even downright friendly if you bother to talk to her like a person instead of a terrifying cryptid. Like, she IS a terrifying cryptid but she's also a little girl.

That’s about it for now. One day I might do the other family members but for now I’m happy with the four I’ve redesigned. Making an au! Lurch in a family that doesn’t do butlers could be interesting. Over on patreon I put forth that he could just be Motesha’s mute little brother (similar bone structure) but Amy Crook had the nice idea of quote: “ a mysterious "cousin" that "helps around the house" whose origins are both long in the past and faintly unsettling. He's good for lifting heavy things, like that tank of propane you're about to throw into the burning Piggly Wiggly... “ which i now consider canon. Who's kid is he? How old is he? Not important. Anyone willing to commit arson with you is family.

Annnnyway. This challenge was a lot of fun! I love indulging in AU’s.

#long post #the addams family #Character Design #au #design challenge #i am incapable of doing a design challenge like a normal person #oh god i forgot the cut lol

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undertale-data · 3 years

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[Image Description: An Undertale chat box that has “WHY FANS LOVE UNDERTALE” at its center. Next to it are a line chart and an Egg from the Dating Hub on its left, and a CRIME measurer (also from the Dating Hub) on its right. End I.D.]

[Image Description: a pie chart titled, “LEVEL OF LOVE FOR UNDERTALE.” The textbox on the top right reads, “On a scale of 1 to 10, 1 being the least and 10 being the highest, how much do fans enjoy Undertale?” From the top going clockwise, 12 or 0% chose 5 and below; 23 or 1% chose 6; 98, or 4%, chose 7; 325, or 12%, chose 8; 529, or 20%, chose 9; and 1664, or 63%, chose 10. End I.D.]

It’s clear from all of the data analyzed so far that fans who took the time to answer our survey love Undertale. It is unlikely that they would have taken the time to answer so many questions if they had not, and even less likely that they would have come across our survey in the first place. Naturally, it comes as no surprise that 63% of our responders gave their love for Undertale a score of ten out of ten. 95% gave their love for Undertale a score of eight or higher, and only 12 responders responded with five or below, a number so small that their responses had to be lumped together to be visible on the pie chart. Of those, only 3 responders gave their love for Undertale a score of 1, and based on those responders’ other answers, it is likely that they were only intending to troll. We are very fortunate that the vast majority of responders took the survey seriously, enough so that responses like this are barely a blip in the data.

Now, for our final analysis post of the event, we will delve into the reasons that fans love Undertale so dearly.

(Essay and highlights under the cut.)

There have been countless essays on the impact that Undertale has had on people’s lives. I can hardly add more on the subject than what has already been said, but I hope this summary can provide a brief overview of what stood out among the over two thousand answers given in response to this survey. That said, due to the sheer volume of answers, I could not read every single one in depth—however, I did skim all of them, and some that stood out or were representative of several responses have been highlighted below. If you would like to see what every fan who consented to share their response had to say, you may view the full list of responses here. Note that these responses have not been edited in any way. This document may take a long time to load, as it is over 100 pages long.

(Warnings for mentions of suicidal thoughts in the following essay.)

Several responders loved the theme of choices mattering in Undertale. Whether people played the pacifist, merciless, or neutral routes, they enjoyed how the game reacted to their actions. For some, it even made them consider their own morality. One touching response explained the impact that the theme of mercy made on them. “I realized that Mercy isn't something that's given to those who deserve it. Flowey didn't deserve it. I don't deserve it myself. Shoot, we ALL need Mercy in our lives.” Many fans left similar comments about how the themes of Undertale made them better people.

Undertale changed how its fans treat others, and it also changed how fans treat themselves. The theme of staying determined and the messages of hope in the game were a light to a very large portion of fans. I cannot list all of the fans who said that Undertale helped them out of a dark place, or that they would not be alive if not for Undertale. “DETERMINATION became a metaphor for not killing myself at a really rough time in my life and I’ll always cherish that. Undertale isn’t afraid to go to really dark places but at the same time holds on so tight to its hope.”

Undertale brought fans together in unexpected ways. Some said they met friends or significant others through the fandom. “I wouldn't have met my now husband without Undertale,” one fan said. A different fan who is non-native English speaking mentioned that the game and the fan community helped them to learn English.

It would be impossible to discuss Undertale without mentioning the fan community. Whether for good or bad, many responders mentioned the fandom in their responses. Overall the feelings towards the fandom seem positive, though many made references to “toxic” parts of the fandom without specifying which parts they consider toxic. Others rejected the idea of toxicity in fandom. One response said: “[SLAMS FIST ON DESK] I KNOW MOST PEOPLE SAY THE FANDOM IS TOXIC AND CRINGE OR WHATEVER BUT OH MY GOD. The Undertale fandom, both the UTMV and the actual UT fandom, has been so much fun to be a part of. I've met countless friends because of our shared interest in something related to the game! The art people create can be breathtaking and so inspirational, and the fanfics are so so good!! I've seen people write incredible things for this fandom and it's what made me continue writing!”

One thing that makes the Undertale fandom unique is the way it embraces various AUs. Some fans are tired of AU content, but the majority of responses show a love for the creativity behind AUs. “Roll your eyes at the 50th AU Sans all you want, it's encouraging people to step outside the boundaries of fanart and pushing people to make their own ideas! I mean, hell, it was how I gained the confidence to start making my own original content.” The lack of a judgemental atmosphere seems present in the AU community, according to the responses we saw. There is an interesting balance between AU and canon (sometimes referred to as “classic”) content that another responder pointed out: “The fandom helped keep the game alive all these years, with all of its AUs. Although personally, I always enjoyed AUs that kept characters as close to the classic material as possible (dancetale, outertale) I do appreciate the creativity of the fandom. They almost created entirely new stories with new characters of their own! If it weren't for those people, the Undertale fandom would have probably not been as active as it is now. I do feel like we're getting a resurgence of classic content now too! (In 2021)”

Regardless of the many AUs the fandom has created over the years, the original game of Undertale still feels like home for many fans. They wished they could reclaim the feeling of playing the game again for the first time, but even though we can’t reset time in real life, there is still a special feeling for fans each time they play Undertale. One fan said, “Even the best fics I've read can't capture that feeling of nostalgia/almost-"coming home" that comes with hearing the music and talking to the characters.” This feeling is one that can be cherished time and time again. In the words of another responder: “It always feels welcoming like home or like comfort food that I never grow tired of no matter how many times I go to it.” Others pointed out the strength of the found family trope in Undertale, which likely contributes to this feeling of “home” as well.

As mentioned briefly earlier, the music is part of what makes Undertale feel like home for fans. Even when responses focused on other aspects of the game, many would throw in a comment about the soundtrack at the end. One comment focused on the music said “IT'S SO GOOD like I will literally go through the entire thing over and over and not be bored with it. It makes my monkey brain so happy you have no idea.” Like with the game itself, the music has incredible replay value, an amazing feat considering most of the tracks use the same few motifs. “I think what I like the most about Undertale is how the music attaches you to the story,” another responder said. “They're simple melodies that stick with you throughout the whole game, and they can remind you of both good and bad times.”

If the music sticks with fans in their hearts, then the game’s lore sticks with fans in their minds. Even six years after the release of Undertale, fans are still creating new theories and digging up new secrets. The way the game breaks the fourth wall in particular intrigued many fans and has stuck out through all these years. The awareness that the game shows for the RPG genre makes it memorable. The game plays with the player’s expectations and turns them on their heads, all while reminding the player that they’re in a game. There are few other games that do this on such a large scale, so it’s no surprise that fans cite this as one of their favorite things about Undertale.

Lastly, the LGBT+ representation in Undertale has been a huge draw for fans. Especially in 2015, the sheer volume of non-cishet characters was unprecedented, as one fan pointed out: “It's practically unheard of to see so MANY from just one source, especially during its heyday in 2015-16. Hell, you can't even GET the true pacifist ending without helping two gay couples hook up. It's really nice to see all of them being accepted for who they are and not judged for their sexuality or gender, at least in-canon.” The LGBT+ cast including Frisk, Chara, Napstablook, Monster Kid, Mettaton, Alphys, and Undyne each connected with fans in unique ways. It’s clear how important this is from responses such as: “There are canon nonbinary characters 🥺. i have never seen representation of myself before.” “It made me gay and trans so thanks for that.”

Once again I am overwhelmed with just how much there is to say about Undertale. One responder really understood when they compared Undertale to an iceberg, explaining that there are so many layers to the game that there is something for everyone: “everyone can find something to enjoy in the lore/game regardless of what kind of fan they are! Being able to appeal to various types of fans—from simple happy shipper people to deep dive lorediggers—is the mark of the coolest games!” I would have to agree with them.

It’s been six years, and despite everything, it’s still you. Thank you for reading, participating in this survey, and above all, staying determined.

Highlights:

DETERMINATION became a metaphor for not killing myself at a really rough time in my life and I’ll always cherish that. Undertale isn’t afraid to go to really dark places but at the same time holds on so tight to its hope.

I think the coolest thing was having the opportunity to watch the AU community grow from its bare roots. It's nearly insane how big and complex it's gotten, unlike anything I'd ever seen before. Roll your eyes at the 50th AU Sans all you want, it's encouraging people to step outside the boundaries of fanart and pushing people to make their own ideas! I mean, hell, it was how I gained the confidence to start making my own original content.

i love how the lgbt rep is so naturalized... there are just gay people! and its nobodys business!

The music is my go to answer, but what I really really REALLY love is how the minor characters have so much personality to them when you talk to them. They aren't incredibly important to the overall story, but they're all so likeable and diverse that you just can't help but like them immediately!

I think it was the first videogame I have played that broke the fourth wall that much. Of course there has been other videogames that broke it but just for one or two tongue-in-cheek jokes. The guilt of killing mama goat was also something intense as well that I appreciated as an experience and that I didn't think a videogame could cause on someone.

I love how no character can be seen as completely bad! Everyone builds up Asgore as some horrible villain, but he turns out to be a 'fuzzy pushover' who's broken and just wants his family back by the time you meet him. Then you think Flowey's an irredeemable killer who engineered the suffering of the monsters across many timelines, and he is... but he also used to be the kind and beloved Prince Asriel Dreemurr, traumatized by his death and subsequent rebirth, projecting his best friend onto you.

The fact that choices matter in the game. Your first playthrough and getting the golden ending for the first time. I can never replicate those feelings again, wish I could erase my memories and replay the game from the start.

I wouldn't have met my now husband without Undertale.

(Toxic parts of the fandom aside) The community is possibly one of the kindest I've ever met. Cringe culture is completely dead, and I feel like I can be myself. I felt a very close connection to many of the characters, and I loved consuming content about them when I was in a rough patch in my life.

just everything, the whole game has just impacted my life so much. i know it sounds really lame, but when the game first came out, i would purposely put my hands in my pockets and sway slightly, like sans' idle animation. of course i dont do that anymore haha, but undertale still really impacts me to this day, and i wouldnt have it any other way :)

it made me gay and trans so thanks for that

I realized that Mercy isn't something that's given to those who deserve it. Flowey didn't deserve it. I don't deserve it myself. Shoot, we ALL need Mercy in our lives.

The thing I love most about Undertale is no matter how many times I play or watch a playthrough it always makes me genuinely happy. It always feels welcoming like home or like comfort food that I never grow tired of no matter how many times I go to it. Toriel still makes me feel all warm and cozy in her home, the Skelebros always make me laugh, and I still cry on the inside watching Frisk comforting Asriel. And on the flip side the No Mercy run still invokes the negative emotions in me as well. In short Undertale just feels like a second home to me and I always wish I could stay.

The reader inserts are my favorite way to decompress after a hard day

I think Undertale helped me discover my love for 8-bit games, and made me realize how IMPORTANT music is in video games.

the worldbuilding and character design are my favorite parts of the main game apart from the music! I’m also a huge fan of the random AU music- not for like underswap or underfell i like the stuff where someone makes a megalovania for a random au where gru from despicable me replaces sans as the character. i think its funny

Just... the vibe, honestly? Even the best fics I've read can't capture that feeling of nostalgia/almost-"coming home" that comes with hearing the music and talking to the characters.

there are canon nonbinary characters 🥺. i have never seen representation of myself before.

[SLAMS FIST ON DESK] I KNOW MOST PEOPLE SAY THE FANDOM IS TOXIC AND CRINGE OR WHATEVER BUT OH MY GOD. The Undertale fandom, both the UTMV and the actual UT fandom, has been so much fun to be a part of. I've met countless friends because of our shared interest in something related to the game! The art people create can be breathtaking and so inspirational, and the fanfics are so so good!! I've seen people write incredible things for this fandom and it's what made me continue writing!

There's a scene where Frisk (the player) is going towards what is presumably going to be their death. They will fight Asgore and he will use their human soul to break the barrier and free his people. The music, despite the player's impending doom, is... triumphant. You are not the triumphant one here, and yet, the score invites you to experience the monsters' joy and happiness as they tell you the tale of their subjugation. The monsters are going to be free. This is their victory, but they don't hate you or want you to die. They're just... happy. That scene has always struck me very deeply. I feel it represents the best parts of Undertale.

I loved how well thought out the Geno route was. It really made me feel like I was doing something horrible, and the characters were very obviously reacting to dire circumstances.

I dunno? I like Undertale for it's characters, story, music, secrets and many more. I am not good with Headcanons but I also like the neutral endings and how different they can depending on who you spare and kill

I was very bad at english before, i thought i couldn't progress because i was very shy and not confident. But my sibling and i wanted to have the best experience with this game so we wanted to play it in english. It's this game and the fandom which helped me to make huge progress in english !

THE SOUNDTRACK. IT'S SO GOOD like I will literally go through the entire thing over and over and not be bored with it. It makes my monkey brain so happy you have no idea.

to avoid writing an essay i will say one word. Mettaton

It is like Toby specifically made the games to fit the iceberg meme and it's awesome, everyone can find something to enjoy in the lore/game regardless of what kind of fan they are! Being able to appeal to various types of fans - from simple happy shipper people to deep dive lorediggers is the mark of the coolest games!

I love almost everything about Undertale as a game on its own. The music, the art and especially the characters and how they interact. They made me feel at home. Undertale means a huge amount to me. (I even got a tattoo of the castle when you and MK walk together!) The fandom helped keep the game alive all these years, with all of its AUs. Although personally, I always enjoyed AUs that kept characters as close to the classic material as possible (dancetale, outertale) I do appreciate the creativity of the fandom. They almost created entirely new stories with new characters of their own! If it weren't for those people, the Undertake fandom would have probably not been as active as it is now. I do feel like we're getting a resurgence of classic content now too! (In 2021)

the mystery. toby fox refused to give answers to anything and i think thats very sexy of him.

I just feel guilty for liking it so much when I'm in my 30's. But I recently got diagnosed with ASD, so I guess it explains things a bit. Many ppl consider Papyrus to be neurodivergent, and some adult fans are too, so seeing that makes me feel a bit better.

i think about "Despite everything, it's still you" everyday of my life.

I like how it's just as funny as it can be serious. All routes are this way. I laughed as much as I cried when I played the Pacifist route and then once I opened the game again and Flowey was telling me to let them be happy, I immediately turned off the game. I somehow felt bad.

The Found Family Trope

The True Pacifist Ending is just...man. And the fanworks about saving everyone even when the game doesn't let you? MANNNNNN

I think what I like the most about Undertale is how the music attaches you to the story. They're simple melodies that stick with you throughout the whole game, and they can remind you of both good and bad times.

there's honestly a LOT to love about this game, but i think one of my favorite things about it is just how many lgbt+ characters there are??? i can think of alphys, undyne, frisk, chara, mettaton, napstablook, monster kid, asgore, mad mew mew, the dress lion, the royal guards, and arguably even papyrus off of the top of my head, but im sure i'm forgetting a few from just undertale alone (there's even MORE in deltarune)!! it's practically unheard of to see so MANY from just one source, especially during its heyday in 2015-16. hell, you can't even GET the true pacifist ending without helping two gay couples hook up. it's really nice to see all of them being accepted for who they are and not judged for their sexuality or gender, at least in-canon.

[Image description: A wordcloud in the shape of the capitalized word UNDERTALE. The text is white on a black background, and uses the font found in the game. Some of the most visible words are: Game, Love, Music, Life, AU, Store, Friend, and Feel, which represent the most common words in the essays people wrote about their love for the game. End of ID]

#undertale #analysis #results #undertale fandom census

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rheawritessometimes · 3 years

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A Not-So-Bad Deal

{ Childe x GN!Reader }

{ Summary } Babysitting Childe has its ups and downs. Series Masterlist

{ Warnings } Swearing, Injury, Physical Intimacy, Mild Spice, PDA, Not Beta Read, Barely Proof Read.

{ Notes } Reader is implied to have commitment issues. Accidental flirting, because intentional flirting is awkward and hard. Didn't explicitly state what each breakfast item was, but they're based on popular Russian breakfast foods. Ahah, not me setting myself up for yet another part?? Masterlist

{ Word Count } 2,955

The sentiment of spending Childe's recovery with him being a simple endeavor was quickly thrown into the garbage when you were awakened before the sun had even begun to peek over the horizon to the sound of what you were sure was a break-in. Rolling out of the bed with your sword materializing in your hand was done entirely on instinct, you were still too groggy to have any proper thought. Stealthily exiting the room, you made your way to the source of the noise, the kitchen.

Needless to say, you were more than annoyed to find that the 'break in' was actually a familiar Harbinger making breakfast, tearing apart the kitchen in the process. Your sword dematerialized as you brought a hand up to massage your temples to ward off a headache. Childe was humming cheerily in the middle of the mess of ingredients and cookware, some of which you were certain had not been necessary to whatever it was he was making. There was no way that many bowls were necessary for any recipe.

The Snezhnayan flashed a bright grin when he saw you, but the gesture did nothing to ease the scowl that had settled onto your features. That didn't seem to dampen his mood in the least, he merrily continued preparing what appeared to be enough food to feed a lot more people than were currently occupying his apartment. Was he expecting a lot of company this morning?

"I thought we made a deal that involved you resting and not cooking enough to feed a small army at ass in the morning," you remarked, the sarcasm laid on thick enough to be dripping from each word. Much to your frustration, this only made him laugh as he turned the stove on.

"Well, I usually wake up early but this morning I had nothing to do since someone broke my bones. So, I decided to make a nice breakfast for my guest to enjoy with me," he responded with faux innocence, though there was laughter in his voice that easily gave him away. His words were still effective in making you feel a little guilty, so you wordlessly brought the dishes you were fairly certain he was done with to the sink and began washing them.

The two of you fell into a comfortable quiet after that, you were busy cleaning a mountain of dishes and Childe's focus was on frying a few eggs and cutting up a bowl of strawberries. You were mindful to stay out of the way as Childe cooked and he made an effort to set the cookware he was finished with beside the sink for you. The rhythm you two had quickly settled into felt startlingly domestic, something you reminded yourself not to like, and certainly not to get used to.

"Maybe I did make a little too much," the Harbinger muses somewhat sheepishly as he looks at the table he had just finished setting. It was without a doubt too much food for only two people, the table at risk of collapsing under the weight of it all. You could only nod in agreement.

"Your guard might appreciate a plate," you offered, as though one more person would make much of a difference against the mountain of food. You had to admit, everything did look delicious. The table was laid out with fried eggs, some porridge, a few sandwiches with sausage on them, what appeared to you to be some kind of crêpes, pancakes of some sort, the bowl of cut strawberries, and a kettle of tea. It would be no trouble finding people willing to eat the excess food.

"I suppose my subordinates deserve a nice breakfast," the redhead sighs dramatically, "They're lucky they have such a nice boss."

"Mhm, and if you ever fall out with the Fatui you could certainly find a job as a cook," you reply after sampling a forkful of his work. Living in Liyue had you more accustomed to chopsticks, but it was evident after going through Childe's kitchen that he did not own a pair. As a witness to his attempts at using them, you weren't very surprised by this finding. A fork was easy enough to figure out, anyway.

"I'm glad you like it," the redhead responds with a grin, quickly busying himself with his own plate. As he eats, he begins to talk about having similar breakfasts with his family in Snezhnaya. This turns into him recounting learning how to make these dishes with his mother and you quietly listen along, making the occasional comment and smiling fondly at his memories and the way he became more animated as he spoke about his family.

The sun had emerged by the time each of you had eaten what you could, and you cleared the plates while Childe ordered his guard to distribute the remaining food to his subordinates stationed in Liyue. You were halfway through cleaning the dishes when the Snezhnayan waltzed into the kitchen, leaning against the counter. He contented himself with watching, not bothering to even offer his assistance.

"I was thinking we should do something. I've been cooped up for too long. Maybe a casual hike up Mt. Aozang?" he suggested, causing you to pause in your ministrations and glance back at him with a raised brow. No hike up Mt. Aozang would be a casual one considering the terrain and potential enemies of the area.

"It's been less than a full day," you pointed out, "And, hm, what was it? Oh yeah, and you have a few broken ribs."

"What are a few broken ribs to a Fatui Harbinger?"

"It's a no, Childe," you firmly insisted, causing him to groan and mumble about you being a 'spoil sport'. It was easy enough to ignore him as you finished up with your small chore.

"I'm using your shower," you informed him once you turned away from the sink. He only hummed in response, still pouting against the counter. It was all you could do to not roll your eyes at his childish behavior.

"What am I even supposed to do for six weeks if I can't go out and fight things?" he whined, and this time you did roll your eyes.

"Well, maybe you can still improve your fighting," you mused, "Have you ever tried working on your strategy? Because that could definitely use some improvement."

The Harbinger huffed indignantly at your words, taking the mature route and sticking his tongue out at you as you left the kitchen to take a shower. He could pout to himself in the kitchen while you had a relaxing shower.

The apartment's bathroom was on the smaller side, but it was still easily workable and didn't feel at all cramped. You had brought with you your own toiletries, but that didn't stop you from poking around Childe's well-organized things out of curiosity. There wasn't anything of particular interest so you decided to just get cleaned up and figure out what to do for the day.

Leaving the bathroom wrapped in a towel and feeling refreshed, you made your way to the guest room to pull out something to wear for the day. You decided on something comfortable, it didn't seem like you'd be going out today anyways and if you did you could always change into something more suitable. After getting dressed and taking care of a few more things, you left the guest room in search of Childe.

It was a simple task finding the Harbinger, he was seated at the table flipping through the pages of a book. You were more than surprised to see it was a book on battle strategy, although you noted it was one focused on group tactics to be used in war organization. You supposed it shouldn't have been any great shock to find he had such books, considering his position as a Fatui Harbinger who was known for his knack for combat. But to actually find him taking your advice was not something you had expected.

"Finally done with your shower?" Childe asked, looking up from his reading, "Good, you were stinky."

His tone made it clear he was joking, and you gasped in mock offense. You both laughed at this, his cerulean eyes shining with amusement. You weren't sure you'd ever seen eyes more beautiful than his.

"Anyways, I was thinking we should go for a walk around the harbor and have a late lunch a Wanmin. Then we can just wander looking for stuff to do, or we could go out to that one boat. Or maybe Zhongli will be at the market and invite us for tea," Childe suggested, setting the book down on the table. You raised your brows at his 'plan'.

"It's been a long time since I've had any time off and I don't know what to do," he justified, crossing his arms over his chest. You only shook your head, smiling softly at his pout.

"Alright, I wouldn't mind a walk around the harbor, at least. Lunch at Wanmin sounds good too. We'll see what happens afterward," you conceded, watching his expression immediately brighten. Just a walk shouldn't be too strenuous, so you weren't terribly worried about his bones. Plus, you wouldn't be able to keep him in bed all day and this was a much better alternative to him going out and finding a fight.

"Let me just get changed into something more presentable."

It wasn't long before you were walking along the docks of the harbor with Childe. You were hand in hand with him, the redhead had grabbed your hand early on, intertwining your fingers with a cheeky grin. You didn't resist when he did this, comfortable with showing the small amount of affection even in public.

Looking out across the calm waters of the harbor, you couldn't help but think it matched the blue of the Harbinger's eyes. While he had an excellent poker face when necessary, Childe's eyes were often very expressive, allowing an easy read of his mood at a glance. Smiling fondly at the thought, you squeezed his hand gently before moving on.

The rest of the day progressed just as pleasantly, both you and Childe enjoying the sights of Liyue before getting lunch at Wanmin as he'd planned. After eating, you browsed the various stalls of Liyue's busy market, admiring the vast array of goods on display.

As the Snezhnayan had earlier predicted, you did meet Zhongli at the market and he did invite you two for tea. You wondered if he had planned it with Childe, but the polite man seemed entirely surprised to have encountered the both of you.

Tea with Zhongli turned out to be quite a lengthy endeavor, and you were rather exhausted by the end of it. He had recounted the history of Liyue well into the evening, in a way that reminded you of a professor during a lecture. It was Childe who was finally able to excuse the both of you, after several hours of education on the historic importance of Silk Flowers.

"Well, I did make a promise that I would rest, so I'm afraid we must be going."

"Ah, yes. It is always good to keep your promises," Zhongli agreed sagely, his words carrying a strange gravity. With polite goodbyes, you left with Childe to return to his apartment. The walk back was through darkness thanks to the hour, but the streets of Liyue were lit and there was still plenty of activity.

It was no surprise that both you and Childe were ready for bed by the time you made it through the door. He mumbled out a mostly unintelligible apology for how long tea with Zhongli had lasted before kissing the top of your forehead and disappearing into his room.

You stood in the hallways shocked by the affectionate gesture for a few seconds before deciding it would be best to just go to bed and forget about it. Surely the action was purely the result of exhaustion.

This time when you woke up the sun had already risen. Silently, you thanked Morax for not having to wake up to Childe's noisy breakfast-making. Even if his cooking was really good, without sleep you'd eventually become rather cranky, to put it lightly.

Exiting the spare bedroom, you found the Harbinger sprawled out on the couch looking through a stack of papers. You assumed it was Fatui business, something which you wanted nothing to do with at the moment. Maybe at another time, you would be interested in their secrets, but as of right now, they weren't really your problem.

"How are you feeling? In any pain?" you asked casually, making your way to the kitchen to retrieve some ice. Regardless of his answer, it was still advised to ice his side regularly.

"Mm, I'm fine. Took some of the medication earlier," he replied, most of his focus still on the documents in his hands. You briefly wondered how often it was that the Eleventh Harbinger did paperwork as opposed to fieldwork. You would have assumed he had a secretary or something for this kind of thing, though you supposed it made some sense for him to do it if he wasn't out in the field.

Leaving the kitchen with another makeshift icepack, you noticed he had set the papers down on the coffee table and draped an arm over his eyes. You raised a brow at this but didn't say anything as you placed the icepack on his side and sat on the couch where there was space beside his legs.

"I don't think I can last six weeks like this. I'm already dying of boredom," he confessed, raising his arm to see your response.

"I'm not sure I can last six weeks either," you replied snarkily. It seemed lost on him as he nodded in agreement before furrowing his brows and scowling at you. Realization.

"Hey, wait! What's that supposed to mean?" he asked, sitting up quickly and wincing at the resulting pain. You picked up the icepack that had slid down and pressed it against his side until one of his hands came up to hold it in place.

"It means I think sometimes you're a bit much," you laughed in response, ruffling his hair and causing his scowl to deepen. He swatted your hand away from his hair using his free hand, and you only smiled in amusement.

"I'll have you know I'm a fucking delight and you adore me," he asserted, staring you dead in the eyes with a challenging look. Now that he was closer, your eyes were drawn to the light smattering of freckles that crossed his nose and dusted both cheeks. From a distance, they weren't really visible, but now you could clearly see them.

"Mhm," you agreed absently, bringing a hand up to lightly cradle his jaw, swiping your thumb slowly across his cheek. It was only when he started leaning in that it dawned on you exactly what you were doing and how intimate it seemed. By the time his lips were pressed against yours, heat had risen to your cheeks and you were certain your face was a brilliant shade of scarlet. Luckily his eyes were closed so he couldn't see you in such a state, but you had a feeling he was able to feel the heat radiating off your cheeks.

Despite your flirtations having been unintentional, you didn't push Childe away. Instead, you wrapped your arms loosely around his shoulders and fell into the slow rhythm he had set. You heard the soft thump of something being tossed onto the coffee table, but you were distracted from that when his hands found your sides and he pulled you into his lap.

A soft breath left you when his lips moved down to your neck to place gentle kisses there. The featherlight touch had goosebumps raising across your skin and you were almost embarrassed by your body's reactions.

"Alright, maybe six weeks won't be too bad," Childe murmured against your neck and you could feel his smile. It made your heart flutter, you weren't sure you liked that.

"Oh, what made you change your mind?" you asked innocently, a hint of laughter in your voice.

"Mm, I wonder." His lips began trailing back up your neck and over your jaw until he sealed them over yours again. The drag of his tongue across your bottom lip had you opening your mouth for him without a thought. In response, he pulled you closer to him, one hand reaching up to tangle in your hair.

When he finally pulled away, he smirked at your flushed appearance and the fact you were a bit breathless. The way he looked at you made butterflies flutter in your stomach and when his ocean eyes dropped to gaze at your lips you felt the overwhelming urge to flee.

"I need to go. I want to get you some proper icepacks from Baizhu and I should probably do some grocery shopping for you," you blurted, standing up. His arms fell easily away from you, but he looked up at you with a surprised and what you thought might be a slightly hurt expression.

"Um, okay," was all he could say as you retreated to the guest room to get dressed in something more appropriate for going out in public. Changing didn't take very long and you made sure to bring Mora along as you fled the apartment with barely so much as a 'goodbye'. Childe was still sitting stunned on the couch as you breezed out the door.

Running away was always a good way to deal with your problems.

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sweetest-honeybee · 3 years

Text

Down to Dust

Chapter 5

Fic Summary: Grian will have to keep the dragon egg secure for the Watchers. But, they’re not the only ones who want it. On a completely unrelated note, Mumbo will have to deal with a version of himself that's only amplified by his No Killing mindset.

Chapter Summary: After a semi-sleepless night with a mysterious and insult heavy voice, Mumbo admits to Grian that he wasn’t exactly honest when he said nothing happened to him before he gave back the egg.

TW: Sleep deprivation (just in case), insults/degradation, and similar things (it’s not a bad chapter but to those a wee bit sensitive)

Word Count: 1441

Notes: None I don’t think

Enjoy!

——————

Your idiocy astounds me.

Mumbo turned on his side and pulled his knees to his chest. It was still dusk, the middle of the night most likely. At least, it felt like he’d been up for hours. Just as sleep tugged at his eyelids in an almost successful attempt at letting him drift into a peaceful slumber, a voice, and a strange one at that, jabbed itself into the back of his mind. It did nothing more but insult him.

How’ve you become so gullible.

It wasn’t just any voice, he discovered. It was his voice. Of course, that’s what thoughts were most of the time, especially particularly degrading ones. However, it was different from his usual self deprecation. It was a deep, distorted echo of his voice, but he recognized it all too well.

And it wouldn’t stop talking.

He didn’t see you take it, you daft spoon.

It was likely just buzzing nerves after the egg’s outburst. His heart still raced at the very thought of it, and when the egg came to mind, so did the eerie voice. Weird things happened after he got his hands on the egg in the first place. Thus, the voice was a new addition alongside an aching in his limbs and an uncanny…guilt, for lack of a better word. Almost as if he’d done something wrong. Like a child that’s broken their parents’ favorite vase.

Must’ve been the leftover shame from Grian’s scolding.

He sat up, leaning his head back on the cold wall of the van and rubbing his eyes.

Grian’s lied to you like he’s done several times before. You’re a fool to trust him.

Mumbo didn’t feel like listening to the gravelly voice. He pulled his hand away from his face and held it in front of him. The fatigue left it blurred against the interior of the van. Only a soft golden light emitted from the windows behind it from the bases outside. It was a nice glow. A soft, serene warmth that he could almost…almost doze off to…

That egg holds a power unlike anything you’ve seen. A thousand times more than all the redstone you can imagine.

He lifted his head from its slow descent to his chest. Power? What was power to him if he was too tired to use it because the damned voice wouldn’t let him sleep. Half lidded eyes trailed towards the hand that was now in his lap.

Why don’t I get it for you if you’re so frightened of your little bird friend.

Mumbo was dozing again. In this state, he mumbled to himself.

“Don’t even know who you are,” was all that slurred from his lips. He decided to humor the voice anyway. “Just some thought.”

Who I am hardly concerns you.

“You keep insulting me. Why would I listen to-“

Mumbo, it snapped. If you wish to keep questioning me, it’s a futile attempt. My purpose here is to…make a deal of sorts.

“Deal,” the redstoner echoed with a short nod. “I must be very tired. I’m making deals with myself. Mhm, what kinda deal.”

I need a little bit more power. You retrieve the egg, then we can talk more.

“I can’t…get the egg. Grian has it.” He snorted. “If he hid it well this time. Didn’t you say you could just get it?”

If a vexed businessman with less common sense than a beached squid can find it, I’m sure you can. As for the offer, I unfortunately cannot get it alone.

“I’m not very helpful.” Mumbo yawned. “Just some stupid hermit.”

Believe me, I’ve heard, the voice sounded as if it were to roll its imaginary eyes. But, you’re the only stupid hermit that I have the capability to ask. I’m asking for your assistance. You want the egg, yes?

“I…do want the egg.” It just causes issues though, he added to himself. But, it could revolutionize everything if he could experiment with it. Test its limits.

Good, Mumbo, you can use it for all kinds of farms. You love farms. Farms, vaults, walking…bases. The voice cleared its throat. Many things, of course.

“Mhm. I do.”

Do we have a deal, then?

Mumbo nodded silently, more so to please the voice and get on with ending the conversation. But, he was just talking to himself, it wasn’t exactly easy to simply turn off your thoughts.

He pulled the blanket over himself. As long as he got some rest, things could go back to being as normal as Hermitcraft would let them be. It was already looking up for him. The voice quieted for longer and longer until he was successful at his final attempt to sleep.

The next morning, however, he was up much earlier than he certainly wanted to be, having been awake a mere four hours later to a knock at the van’s door.

He groaned, finally having just gotten comfortable in the small space. He threw his legs over the side of the bed and rubbed at his eyes with a wide yawn. He reached over to the other side of the van, opting to pull the door open from his bed. (Having spider-like limbs came in handy once in a while, he supposed.)

At the door was Grian who looked much more awake- no- alive than Mumbo certainly knew he did. The builder initially greeted him with a smile but before a word even partially escaped his mouth, he grimaced at Mumbo. Though, cringe seemed a better word.

“My god you look awful,” he hissed.

“Good morning to you too,” grumbled the redstoner as he pulled himself out of the van. He stretched, earning a chain of pops down his spine which ended in a satisfied sigh.

“You know, I’d say sorry but I’m not joking, you look like the walking dead. Did you sleep at all last night?”

“A bit,” came a simple answer.

“A bit,” Grian mocked. “When someone says they got a wink of sleep, it’s not a literal statement-”

“Do you need something?” Mumbo turned with a huff.

The avian cleared his throat. “Oh yeah, just wanted to check up on you.” The redstoner only raised a brow. “And you’re out of end crystals.”

Mumbo waved a dismissive hand, only to cover another yawn. “I’ll get those soon.” He began to walk to his potato farm when Grian stopped him with a tug of his arm.

“And I um-“ He sighed. “Sorry again about the whole egg thing. I hope that’s not the reason you look so tired.” Rather than ending in a snort or a giggle, he only looked up at the other with an almost regretful expression. A stark contrast to his mood seconds prior.

Ah, Mumbo guessed that he only came to talk more about the egg. The sentiment was nice though.

Too tired to try to lie, however, he shrugged. “Well, it kinda was but not much to do with you.”

Grian pulled away. “Kind of?”

“Yeah, can’t really explain it. Just nerves I guess.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, trying to choose his next words semi-carefully. “But, I um- I wasn’t all that honest when I said nothing happened when the egg did what it did yesterday.”

This only earned a groan from his friend who accompanied the sound by pinching the bridge of his nose. “Jeez, Mumbo, of course you weren’t. What happened?”

“The egg…I don’t know. When that whole thing happened I was kind of…caught in it. I didn’t run fast enough to avoid this weird wave of energy. Weird stuff’s been happening since.”

“Oh,” was all that left Grian’s mouth.

“Oh?” Mumbo gestured for his friend to continue. “Am I- Is that a good thing? Bad thing?”

“Well did it feel bad?” The avian ran his fingers through his hair. His expression seemed a mix between confused and fearful. Still, wide eyes darted in every direction except the other man.

It only made Mumbo anxious. “What? Is something going to happen to me? Did I screw something up?”

“We’ll that’s the thing, I don’t know! The Watchers don’t know either and-“

The redstoner held up a hand to halt Grian’s answer (or lack of), now mirroring the wide eyed horror on his friend’s face. “Hold on The Watchers don’t know?! Grian you’re a Watcher!”

“Ah, not quite-“

“Not quite?!”

“Mumbo!” snapped the builder. He continued in a hushed voice. “Okay, no, we don’t know. Really, you won’t die but the likelihood is that you might’ve just started a potential dimensional war.”

“I did what.”

#pro tip if you want Mumbo to listen to you just don’t let him sleep lol #pacing is weird which I don’t like but eh #my fic #down to dust fic #hermitcraft #grian #mumbo jumbo #I’ll add a read more here soon don’t worry

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carriagelamp · 3 years

Photo

Art of Aardman

I found myself a cheap copy of the Shaun the Sheep movie, so I was rewatching a bunch of Aardman films earlier this month and decided to hunt down some books too. For anyone that doesn’t know, Aardman is a British stop-motion studio that does fantastic work like Wallace and Gromit, Shaun the Sheep, Chicken Run, Early Man… tons of cool stuff. They’re always quirky and funny and warm-hearted. This was just a very nice art book for anyone that’s a fan of Aardman stop motion and wants to see a bit extra; it shows some cool concept art and blows up the neat details in Aardman work, especially in their intricate stuff like The Pirates! In an Adventure with Scientists!

Asterix and the Picts (Asterix and the Chariot Race, and How Obelix Fell Into The Magic Potion)

I decided to try a couple of the new Asterix comics that were done by the new team, just to see if they stand up to the old ones (that and How Obelix Fell Into The Magic Potion cause I’d never read that one before). They were pretty decent! Asterix and the Picts was my favourite of the two though I wouldn’t say either are going to contest for my favourite Asterix comic... but still! The art looks good and the stories felt like what I would expect, they made for a pleasant couple evenings of reading especially since it’s been so long since I’ve read a new Asterix comic. If you’ve never read Asterix it’s one of the biggest name French comic series in North America, as far as I know and very worth the read. It’s about a single Gaulish village that’s holding out against the invading Romans through sheer force of will, slapstick hijinks, and a magical super-strength potion brewed by their druid. Lots of fantastic visuals and cute wordplay, even in the English translations.

Bear

I found out about this bastion of Canadian literature via tumblr post that was losing its collective mind over the fact that some bizarre bear-based erotica novella somehow won the most prestigious literary prize available in Canada. Since I too found this hilarious and unspeakably bizarre I had to give it a read, obviously. And yes, the flat surface level summary is... a librarian moves out into rural Ontario and falls in love with a literal for-real not-supernatural-not-a-joke bear. And I have to say… it is actually worthy of an award, which I was not expecting given that I was there for a laugh. It has beautiful writing, and the subtextual story is pretty interesting… it kind of makes me think of The Haunting of Hill House actually in terms of themes. (Womanhood, personhood, independence, autonomy partially achieved through escaping the male gaze by claiming non-human lovers... listen if I were still in university I would right a paper comparing the two novels).

I dunno man, it’s fucking weird. Actually a well-written book, but sure is about a woman falling in love with a literal bear. Give it a read if you want something bonkers but like… high-brow bonkers.

Hunger Pangs: True Love Bites

Best book I have read in like… a while. A long while. I am not a fast reader, and I consumed 90% of this book over a weekend. It’s not at all like Terry Pratchett, but at the same time it scratched an itch for me that I haven’t had satisfied since Pratchett’s death. A very clever, hilariously funny poly romance between a disabled werewolf, an anxious vampire lord, and an incredibly powerful woman, with heaps of social satire, political commentary, and sinister undertones. The whole thing reads a bit like fanfiction and I say that in the most flattering way possible -- it is so easy to jump right in and be immediately taken over by the characters and the world and the plot, you never feel like you’re fighting to engage even though the world-building is fascinating and expansive. It welcomes you in right away, it was the book equivalent of a quilt and a hug which is something I sorely needed with all this pandemic bullshit. If you read any of the books on this list, go read that one while I sit here in pain waiting for the sequel.

Kid Paddle

I watched the cartoon of Kid Paddle as a kid and was thinking about it recently, so I decided to hunt down some of the original comics online. They’re fun and weird, with a cute art style and fantastic monsters designs. (My favourites are always about Kid either daydreaming or playing games that involve Midam’s weird warty troll creatures. It’s like a cross between Calvin and Hobbes and Foxtrot with the fun sort of quirks that I love in Belgian comics. Unfortunately, unlike Asterix, I’ve only come across these ones in French, but if you can read French it’s totally worth popping over to The Internet Archive and reading the ones they have available.

The Last Firehawk: The Golden Temple

The lastest Firehawk book. Despite being written for quite young readers, I did enjoy the early books in this series quite a bit. They’re about a young owl and squirrel who found an egg for a magical species that was believed to be extinct. With the newly hatched firehawk, the three of them head off on a mission to find an ancient firehawk magic that could save the entire forest. Very basic adventure story but a good intro to the tropes for children. Unfortunately the quality really feels like it drops with each subsequent book; this will probably be the last one I bother reading.

Lumberjanes: The Moon Is Up

I honestly think I enjoy these Lumberjanes novels even more than the comics just because it really gives time to delve into each story and examine how the camper are really thinking and feeling about everything. (Also I’m always weak for novelizations of anything.) The Moon Is Up is a book that focuses more on Jo, and takes place during the camp’s much anticipated Galaxy Wars, a competition between cabins that goes over several days. While the campers prepare for these challenges though, they also run into a strange little creature with a penchant for cheese and theft. Roanoke cabin needs to keep ahead in Galaxy Wars and somehow deal with the fearsome Moon Pirates that a closing in...

Lumberjanes v4 (Out Of Time)

One of the Lumberjanes comics, a cool, girl-focused, queer comic series. Honestly, this is just a fun series that I never got as into as I should have. My advice is honestly to skip book one because it gets better as it continues, and I’ve really been enjoying the later books now that I’ve given it another go. It follows five campers at Miss Qiunzella Thiskwin Penniquiqul Thistle Crumpet’s Camp for Hardcore Lady Types (Jo, April, Molly, Mal, and Ripley) as they handle all sorts of challenges, from friendship to crushes, camp activities to supernatural horrors, getting badges to not being brutally killed. Great if you liked the vibe of Gravity Falls but want it to be queer-er.

Mooncakes

Another queer graphic novel, but unfortunately not a very good one. It really looked appealing and I had high hopes, but the book itself really didn’t hold up… I actually couldn’t even finish it, the plot was just too… non-existent. The art is fairly mediocre once you actually look at it, especially backgrounds, and it feels very… placid. Not much conflict or excitement or even a very compelling reason to keep reading. If you just want a soft queer supernatural you may get more mileage out of it than me, but it didn’t really do it for me. There’s better queer graphic novels out there.

New Boy In Town

One of the worst books I have ever read. My girlfriend had ordered a very different book online but through a frankly stupendous error was sent this 1980s pulp romance instead. Absolutely nauseating on levels I couldn’t even begin to enumerate here. Naturally we read the whole thing out loud. Probably took us 10 times longer to finish than it warranted because I had to stop every two sentences to lose my mind. If you like bad decisions, baffling hetero courting rituals, built-in cultural Christianity without actually calling it that, and gold panning then boy howdy is this the book for you.

(seriously, you better have patience for gold-panning if you attempt this one, because I sure learn that I don’t)

Piggies

This was a picture book I enjoyed as a kid and had a reason to reread recently. Honestly it’s just very cute and simple, and the art is completely mesmerizing. Wonderful if you know a young child that would enjoy a simple goofy boardbook.

Shaun the Sheep: Tales From Mossy Bottom

Related to my Aardman fascination earlier this month. I tried reading a varieties of Shaun the Sheep books — most of which are mediocre at best — but the Tales From Mossy Bottom Farm series is genuinely good. Just chapter books, of course, but the illustrations match the series’ concept art and each story feels like it could have jumped directly out of an episode. They’re just cute and feel-good! Kinda like Footrot Flats but more for kids, and from the sheep’s perspective moreso than the dog’s.

#aardman animation #shaun the sheep #lumberjanes #kid paddle #asterix #the last firehawk #hunger pangs: true love bites #marian engel #bear #canadian literature #canlit #queer lit #book review #book reviews #chatter

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dykefoosh · 3 years

Text

It's been a year! Transcript: 8/3/21 Here is also a google doc of the transcript if that is easier to read!

*Starts out with happy birthday on a guitar playing*

Happy Birthday to me, Happy Birthday to me. Happy Birthdayyyy to meee, Happy Birthday to me

*Drinks a swig of alcohol*

Ah. Yeah it’s my birthday today, which um seems odd, it doesn't feel like i've been here that long… but I have. Cheers everyone uh. I realise I haven't really done much in a while.

I woke up this morning, rolled out of bed, put out this cake I made three months ago and uh, that's kind of been it, but yeah… I don’t think I’ve left this room in 80 days. About 80 days… How long is 80 days? I- I- that's a lot of months… that's been a long time… Also my vision just went black, I’ve been drinking a lot, um this is that possibly catching up with me um please return vision, I’d really like for it to be back, well I can hear things so at least i'm not deaf ya know? The lord has kept my hearing but I am blind, no um yep there we go.

I decided to get dressed up as well. I figured that would be nice, ya know? I’m pretty sure I was part of them back when I joined, so.. .I don't know if it felt like it made sense to dress up again. Um, fucking hell, I have not cleaned. *sighs* I’ll be honest, in the time I was gone, not very… not very much has happened, uh, it turns out you need customers to support a hotel, and I don’t know about you guys but I haven't seen one on this place for a pretty long while. So uh, basically what I’m saying is… the big jack manifold hasn't been going too hot, god, you don’t provide these guys with food for eighty days and they all go bones and evil.

LEAVE out you bard, you-

The point is, very little has been done here for quite awhile, and um I haven't been outside or seen anyone, and I- I didn't’ finish the pub. Um, you may be asking me, “but jack wasn't that the only thing you were working towards? I know but with the failure of the hotel, I kind of realised that again pubs also rely on customers and the very limited people on this server, as we can all see it really ah um, well it didn’t seem very fruitful. So um, we're kinda just here, living here rent free ever since we claimed this place… I actually don’t know who pays the rent.. Maybe Tommy still does um. I Don't know- anyway since I’ve been here for a year and I haven't really looked around in three months, I thought we would go and look around at everything that we once saw, you know?

I must admit the investment of the alcohol from the pub has been the only thing keeping-.. I shouldn't say that, let's not speak about that part. Yeah it turns out that this place, look I haven't been outside in eighty days and I think maybe since I’ve been here for a year I can go back and have a look around at everything. And um as I said I dressed up for the occasion, so um you know… lets see what's changed hmmm?

Anyway let's walk around shall we? Well this didn’t change, we still got mcpuffys here. Hehe, no one noticed my balls sign hehe, no one noticed, I forgot about this, no one noticed I replaced whatever the original one was with balls in hope they wouldn't notice and they didn't. Ahh that's good, I like that. Anyway, there's the duck and Ponk’s tower that seem pretty much the same.

This looks different, this was a hole.. Who are you? Alright? You know we are the only two people on the server right now? (talking to shroud) This basically means we gotta become friends. So.. tell me about yourself.. Sir? Madam? Shroud, alright. Oh Ohhh I stole some of these! Did I ever give them back? Whoops, oh well. Ahh, it's been quiet without him ya know tommy. I’ll be honest, theres been very little to do, with him gone, um, the fuck did ninjas house go? Why does it look like a very small mcdonalds?

Right, this tower, this seems pretty much the same. Does the sewer still exist? Hm oh wait does it not? What ohh no what happened to the sewers? Aw, there was a whole sewer system out there one time and oh wow. Why is there no longer a sewer there? Wait oH OH it is down here!

One of the first things I remember is me tommy and tubbo and quackity, before he even joined and was still in juvy we, hehe, we did a little heist on everyone and we stole the poo machines and stole everything and then we had a little room, and it was here and we stole the phantom membranes. It was a good time, it was a good time, I liked that and then ah there had only been one war. It's crazy to think there's been more, I thought we’d figure it out the first time, you know? It was fun. And we were called the beatles. Either way yeah.

Why the fuck is half of this place beatroots? Why are half of these beetroots and the other half potatoes? Why is it all farm?? Why? Why is it beats? Wait where did gay target go? Why is there just a beacon here? At least there's huts pizza. Employee of the first two days, of dunderbeatlin… the fuck is dunderbeatlin? What's this? Why are there new things? I know it's been eighty days but why?

This is the L’manburg museum, bearing in mind I'm dressed like this I should go see it.

Oh! It's like different things. This is like the community house, okay that's cool and that's the egg.. This is a replica it won't hurt you… oh it doesn't it won't actually hurt you. I guess they remade that shit. What even happened with that thing? I remember it tried to possess me once and then I bathed in the holy water and I was good again. Oh wow it's like a map of the whole server and there's egg gunk. And then and then and then here.. Where am I? Oh… is that lmanburg? Where is lmanburg? Oh wait oh yeah yeah wait I forgot…. Oh…. yeah….. Um….heh yeah….

OH its the lmanburg walls! I remember tearing them down and rebuilding them a lot and the hotdog van! Does it have the declaration in it? No it doesn't… It is blue. Ohhh…… I joined the day after this (the final control room) God, it's been a whole year since then… What's this? Wait… I feel like there's missing lines here. I don’t know if sorry, you know? Oh, look here, oh it just says i'm sorry. (erets apology book) I’m not all that sure that sorry quite cuts that. What's this? Oh this looks unfinished. Oh here's a map of old lmanburg! OH that's ze house! Before… I burnt it down and decided I wasn't gonna have manifold land anymore.. I miss that, I miss lmanburg.

It was a lot easier to dream when we were friends. Everyone feels so distant now but maybe that's because I haven't seen them, maybe that didn't help I mean no one came to say hi to me. Oh, oh, my main takeaway was that, wait it's not glass anymore, it's like a cavern, it was glass the last time I was there, it's changed since I was here to remember what happened… Why does it look like this? Hmm I don't know. Ah this was my cove, and it was untouched until I burnt it down fuck you.

Oh and theres my secret base that I never finished, FUCK YOU - fuck I hate him, anyway… oh there's the big obsidian bridge, oh isn't this where tommy was exiled? Over this way? I think… That means it was somewhere along here that… wait no it was right here… right? We turned on these stairs, stepped down, and pretty sure it was right here… he dug this.. I don’t think I want to visit this place. I want to go back, this isn't really where I want to be.

Anyway um, I wonder if Snowchester has changed. Lets go visit, okay um, that's weird that's freshly planted. Let's head over to Snowchester its that way. Since when was Tubbos' house back? Didn’t Tommy burnt it down? I swear this got burnt down.. I remember the ruins of it, there was a nether tree farm then in it… anyway…. Let's go check out fundys place. I haven't seen him in FOREVER. The last time I saw him was the last war… the day… the last war… WHY ARE THERE BIG MUSEUM THINGS EVERYWHERE??

Where's fundys house? I built it. I remember building it as a prank and then he liked it and lived in it.. Where's my tower? It was here next to the fox, his little fox hole… my towers were gone, it was definitely here, it was a million percent here and it was right next to it. It was somewhere there was a button it had a button. There was a big sign made out of obsidian…

I don’t know if you can tell, but I’ve been pretty purposeless for the past eight days… what the fuck? That's a HOLE. That's a big ass hole! That wasn't always there?! When did a hole show up?? There's a HOLE in my hotel!! I'm trying not to lose my cool and you know when I go the day that I joined, and the first person that greeted me was tommyinnit and still, I wish, I just wish someone logged in and said “hey jack happy one year” and I try to build them a pub and one of these *drinks a swig of alcohol* I mean at least..

Every time….. Everything here and how come it's all the things I care about that get blown up? Lmanburg… Manifold Land- Well I did manifold land but I was pissed off - Everything I care about on this server gets blown up, or destroyed or taken advantage of or.. Betrays me, that happens a lot. I’m not sure if I wanna be here anymore.

I’m not sure if I want to have anything to do with this… maybe that's it. Maybe that's it. What does this place bring? What does this place bring? Ever since I have been part of the “Dream SMP” Things are given to me that are eventually taken or destroyed, friends leave, DEATH, not everyone has died on the server and come back to life admittedly, I have now but the point is, I AM VERY DEFINITE I DON'T WANT ANYTHING TO DO WITH THIS SERVER ANYMORE… Alright? Almost everyone that has promised me something has turned their back. Almost everyone. The last thing anyone said to me was “Ah when las nevadas comes about, we will have a deal jack.. I’ll make it big” Yeahh.. .he really brought a lot of business. How's Las Nevadas doing?? Because when I HEARD it would be done and bring me customers, surely not another person would give me false hope.

Tubbos was the only one I can trust, Tubbo and Niki. I know Niki has become an anarchist or whatever but at least she's happy, and Tubbo was always kind.

I think Las Nevadas is somewhere over here. Let's go look at how “done it is” and how ready for business they are… Looking PRETTY finished for me. Big sign, big building, nice roads. Looking pretty… done. Pretty ready for a business deal. Isn't that a shocker… Isn't it weird yet again that someone promised me something and it fell through again?

So FUCK IT I don’t wana see Snowchester, I dont want to see anything, My WHOLE TIME on this server has been doing things for other people and fighting peoples wars, right? Keeping up hotels and pubs for people to stay, trying to kill people at worst that wasnt me and fighting for them. I haven't done anything for myself. ANYTHING AT ALL. And I said the hotel was for me and look where it got me- in a room for 80 days and a giant bottle of cider I have yet to finish- so fuck it! I’m not dealing with anyone else anymore. The “DREAM SMP” I’m gonna go out and start my own thing. I’m gonna call it the “Dream SSP” survival single player because I’m not dealing with anyone else anymore. Alright?

The day Tommy died, I said I was done with manifold land because the only thing it ever stood for was trying to get rid of him, and although it was also about getting back at him, it was about other people, but this time, I have something new in mind, something completely different…

NEW Manifold land will not cater to anyone else, not fight for anyone else, to I don’t know be anything for anyone else really. New Manifold land will stick very strictly to the name and persist of purely Jack Manifold, and I might steal Godzilla back from Tubbo (his arctic fox). Because as much as I said Niki was kind and Tubbo was kind, where they been the past 80 days? No one came to the hotel. No one came looking for me to which point, I say I’m gonna find myself my own little place. I’m just gonna live. I’m gonna do what I want, the only thing is, I need to find an area of my own, we need to travel. So let's get moving hmm?

#dsmp transcript #transcript #jack manifold #c!jack #big manifold hotel #c!niki #c!tubbo #c!tommy #dsmp #lmanburg #manifold land

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coldgoldlazarus · 3 years

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So I had a thought just now, and it's understandable that the connection hasn't been directly drawn since one of the people involved has been absent for the past few Volumes, but can we talk about the parallels between Raven and Ironwood? But before I get into that, I also want to talk about Qrow.

So, we know Qrow was raised by the Branwen Tribe. It's been implied that that upbringing was a deeply unpleasant and possibly abusive one, and know that he was shunned for his Bad Luck semblance - however, the latter statement comes directly from Qrow himself, who is somewhat of a biased source as far as discussions of his semblance goes. At any rate, miserable childhood, he sees the tribe for thieves and murderers, and went on to become part of Ozpin's inner circle to do something better with his life. (Actually now that I think about it that's kind of a parallel in its own way with Winter and May, but that's a whole other discussion) The important part I'm getting at here, is that he internalized all the possible abuse and shunning, placing the blame on his semblance to give meaning to why he was treated that way; the problem is with him, he was mistreated because of some aspect of himself that was wrong. Obviously, that's incorrect and harmful to himself, but the slight upside is that for all that he's cynically realist about the world, he's also got a more positive outlook overall, believing it's possible to make a difference, but at the cost of his own self-esteem.

Like I said, Qrow is a biased source when it comes to the ways his semblance has impacted his life, and based on that I feel like it's safe to assume that in this chicken-or-the-egg problem, he was mistreated by the bandits first, regardless of his semblance. And that brings us to Raven.

Same tribe, same upbringing. Most likely? Same abuse too. But her Semblance was completely different, if she even unlocked it yet at that point (I half wonder if it developed in a response to Qrow needing help, or later, in response to STRQ as a whole) so there was no easy scapegoat there. So instead, she externalized her trauma, and decided that life as a whole was just Like That. The world was Hard and Cold no matter what, so you have to become Hard and Cold yourself to survive.

But then she went to Beacon and met Summer and Tai, and slowly warmed up to them, and started to think maybe, just maybe it wasn't all like this. And again, her own semblance is all about her positive bonds with others, which lends credence to the idea that she does have a heart underneath it all. But then things went bad again, or she learned about Salem's immortal, unkillable nature, and it reconfirmed her worst beliefs, and she returned to the tribe with the mindset of Might Makes Right taking over all her choices again.

And well now, doesn't that sound familiar? Even if we don't exactly know all the details of Ironwood's own childhood, there's a fair amount that can be inferred just based on the context of his place of origin. He likely had a reasonably cushy upper-middle-class upbringing in Atlas without much notable happening - which influences how he's nice, but more than a little out of touch, when he's in a positive frame of mind (and don't get me wrong, his treatment of Mantle even before his spiral hit the Event Horizon was uncomfortably dictator-y, but the narrative at that point still framed him as a more-or-less sympathetic, if not entirely trustworthy, person who lacked the perspective of what the lower class was going through - pretty apt for the majority of Atlas citizens seen in V8C7

But also, based on his own semblance, the tattered and half-metal shape his body is in, and stray comments he made during earlier volumes, (like his discussion of battlefield hallucinations in V3C8) once he got to the military, he went through rough times, to say the least, and then on top of that learned about Salem, even if not the full extent of her threat, and externalized that. So while his fundamental approach is more positive overall, he's still basically arrived at a similar conclusion as Raven, with some caveats. The world outside the kingdoms is Hard and Cold, and you have to become Hard and Cold to survive. The difference being, until the end of Volume 7, he still believes he can make a difference, and be a hero and defeat the evil lurking out there. The methodology, though, is definitely the same; Might Makes Right, even if for him it's tempered by his cushier past. So he's in this weird in-between state for most of his career, more kind than Raven to be sure, but in a lot of ways carrying a lot of the same toxic beliefs about strength. Then the Fall of Beacon starts his downward spiral, with all of his militant strength completely invalidated or turned against him, with Cinder's calling-card that he misattributes to Salem as extra salt in the wound. Then in Volume 7, the quadruple-whammy of the revelation of Watts's plan, the reveal of Salem's immortality, Cinder triggering his PTSD with a callback to the Fall, and then Salem herself calling in to say she's on her way. Much like with Raven in the past, it all serves to reinforce his worst beliefs and habits, and with Mettle on top of that, his spiral hits terminal velocity. In essence, a parallel to Raven leaving to become the head of the Tribe. And like Raven, he basically gives up on trying to fight Salem, changing course to planning to save Atlas and Atlas alone ("Which 'we' are you referring to?" From V4C4 comes to mind) and then figuring out what to do afterward once he thinks he's safely out of Salem's reach.

In both cases, they deny their own agency in the belief that the threat is too overwhelming, and the only way to handle it is by denying their own compassionate side and becoming Hard Men Who Make Hard Decisions. So that's how they got here. Next question is, where are they headed?

In different circumstances, could Ironwood be redeemed? I mean, one of the big possible themes that others have pointed out is that redemption isn't something deserved, it's earned by actively choosing to do good, regardless of past actions. So in that sense, I do think that Ironwood isn't beyond saving. (though again, he would have a lot to answer for even aside from what he's done since the V7 finale. Same goes for Raven, though; it tends to get overlooked, but even aside from her shitty parenting and helping Cinder with the attack on Haven, she has entire villages' worth of blood on her hands. In both cases, again, their possible redemption isn't something deserved, but earned.) However, the presence of Mettle actively reinforcing his worst habits, and the huge crisis situation that is the ongoing Fall of Atlas, means that unless he survives the end of the volume somehow, I don't think a change of course is likely to happen, and all signs point to him dying by the time Volume 8 is through. If he does live, though, it would take both a major wake-up call about the consequences of his actions, and a much lower-stakes situation where he can reflect on his actions and realize he was wrong, for further progress to be made, especially with Mettle still there as an internal roadblock.

However, Raven has already had both of those - the massive cathartic callout post from Yang at the end of Volume 5, and if we assume she's stayed in Patch since then, plenty of time to think things over. Of course, the latter part is still uncertain, and she could also have doubled down and gone back to the tribe again, but there's really no sure indication either way. Point is, she's further along in her arc than Ironwood is, and where he may well wind up getting cut down before he has the chance to fix his shit, she's at a prime crossroads to finally start unlearning her skewed worldview and make some Good Decisions™ again.

Also, since I discussed Qrow way earlier, I want to wrap back around to him. Again, for a long time, in contrast to both Raven and Ironwood, he internalized his struggles and blamed his semblance. Ruby's been slowly pushing back against that notion, and Clover, as much as he was a cop and all, did genuinely start to help a little bit as well, until his death. And while it's easy to say that said death has just reset Qrow's development, I think we're already seeing a difference in his brief handful of scenes in V8; particularly the line "We're going to kill the man who put us here." Regardless of whether he's referring to Ironwood or Tyrian or both, the point is, he's finally starting to externalize his trauma. He's blaming himself too, of course, because this is still Qrow, but more for his own misjudgements during the fight than on just his bad luck. It's a start, at least. Like Raven, I hope this means he's coming to a more balanced perspective from the other direction, neither pinning the blame wholly on himself or the world around him, and accepting his own agency as well as the responsibility of outside factors beyond his control. It'll be interesting to see how that progresses given he's also at risk of falling into a completely new flaw, which given RWBY's stance on revenge could also go badly for him, but for now, we'll just have to wait and see what happens.

#not a reblog #rwby #rwby spoilers #rwby analysis #rwby speculation #raven branwen #qrow branwen #james ironwood

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poliel · 3 years

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Adopted Egg

Yo, I wrote a thing based off the Adopted Egg AU!

While Boiling Bay wasn’t as bad as Sizzling Sands or Frosted Peak it was still pretty bad. All the lava made it too hot to be comfortable and the various aggressive and angry bugsnax made it a pain to traverse. But hey at least getting headbutted by a giant angry popsicle or hit point blank by a big scoop of seemingly frozen solid ice cream cooled Buddy off fairly well. And the ocean water was nice lapping around their feet as they wondered back down the beach.

Thankfully though their pack was full of bugsnax though, at long last they’d caught everything single one that could be found here now. Meaning they could finally head back to Snaxburg. … After a quick nap though because they’d been out and about for far too long. And dawn was still a few hours away so almost no would be out and about when they returned to town anyway. So they turned and started for the wreck Floofty had taken shelter in before they’d been convinced to return to town.

As they neared it, they slowed because… was that a skeleton? Shaking off the initial shock, Buddy picked up the pace, jogging the rest of the way over. Yep, it was a skeleton all right, nestled up deep in the shade and protection offered the wreck’s overhang. Its bones were a clean white, indicating it was fresh. The sand underneath it was a dark maroon, probably blood. But most intriguing of all was the egg it was curled around, lying on a little blanket, the edge closer to the skeleton marred with more dried blood.

Far too big to be an eggler even if this was an area they showed up in, the splotches of dark green and magenta on it made it pretty clear that it was a grumpus egg andthat it couldn’t have come from anyone in Snaxburg. Not that there’d been any real question about the latter given the skeleton curled around it. But… none of this really added up.

It wasn’t too terribly long ago that Buddy had been down this way and in this wreck, their sense of time was very off these days but it couldn’t have been much longer than a week or two. While it was perfectly possible a grumpus had washed up here on a raft or something, crawled their way up here and then died, presumably via injuries judging based off the blood, it wasn’t possible for their body to have rotted all the way to bones yet. And even if there was something around that could eat a corpse, the bones looked undisturbed and unchewed on in general. So… where had it come from?

They lifted their camera to take some pictures, being sure to get some from as many different angles as possible just in case they needed to look over the undisturbed scene again later. Then, careful of the weight of their full backpack, Buddy crouched down to get a better look. First, they poked skeleton and then leaned in to sniff it, learning nothing. Next, they pinched up some of the red sand and lifted it to their mouth. Gagging they turned their head to spit because while they’d definitely confirmed it was blood it tasted foul, whether that was because it was several days old or something else, they didn’t know enough to say, either way they regretted decided to taste it.

After shaking off their disgust, they turned back to look at the skeleton and its egg. They needed to investigate more but also… they couldn’t leave the egg out here unattended. It was possible it had already been left out too long and thus it was too late for it but they had no way to know that for sure right now so… with a sigh, Buddy picked it up before straightening. Holding it to their chest with one paw, they pulled Sprout’s buggy ball out of their pouch and then pushed the egg in there instead. While it was about the same size, the oblong shape making it a bit bigger, it was notably heavier, making its presence uncomfortably hard to not be aware of but they’d live.

They pulled their backpack off to shove Sprout inside for now. There was barely enough room for him and he didn’t sound happy as they zipped it up but he’d just have to deal with it for a little while because they had some more investigating to do.

Any evidence about the skeleton or how it had come to be there had long since been obliterated by the wind and sea, leaving the mystery disappointingly unsolvable. Buddy searched high and low all over Boiling Bay and then Shimmering Springs too for good measure and found a whole lot of nothing, not even any shed fur anywhere or more dried blood. There was a notable lack of snakpods that weren’t high up though, indicating it was likely the mysterious grumpus had found and eaten them before succumbing to their wounds and somehow rotting away to nothing but a skeleton.

It was nearing midday by the time Buddy decided to give up and drag themself back to Snaxburg. While they weren’t squeamish about skeletons or dead bodies in general, they’d rather not take a nap next to one if they didn’t have to. Besides they still had the egg and what to do with it to worry about.

The first thing they did upon reaching town was drop their backpack off in Lizbert’s hut. Almost everyone would be expecting food but they’d all have to wait a little bit longer. Next, they went to the research tent.

“There’s a skeleton out in Boiling Bay,” they said as they sidled up to Floofty at their work table. “It’s in the wreck you used to live in. You wouldn’t happen to know anything about that, would you?”

Floofty looked up from the lollive they were dissecting with a sigh. “No. Even if I had any use for a skeleton, why would I leave it out there? And if you’re implying I killed someone, you’d also be incorrect. You can check around town to confirm everyone’s still alive if you don’t believe me.”

“Nah, I didn’t think you had anything do with it. I was just making sure since it’s in your old shelter and not many of the others ever go out to there.” Also if anyone in Snaxburg was responsible for it in one way or another they were near if not right at the top of list of likely candidates.

“Good. Now leave, I’m busy.” They lifted a paw to make a shooing gesture at them before looking back down at their work.

Buddy would’ve gladly left to go take a nap somewhere but they still had the egg sitting heavy in their pouch. Floofty wasn’t a doctor but they clearly knew some stuff and thus might be able to determine if the grumpling inside was still alive or not, thus saving Buddy another long trek up to Frosted Peak to ask Eggabell. So they pulled it out, placing it gently on the table. “I found this next to it. I figure you might be able to figure out if it’s been left out too long or whatever.”

Floofty paused for a moment before putting their tools down and shifting their attention solely to the egg. They carefully picked it up to hold up and turn in their paws, examining it from all angles. “Hmm…” The looked at Buddy again. “You found it next to the skeleton?”

“Yep. It’s really weird. Clearly, they died recently but… only their skeleton and a bit of dried blood are left behind. I looked everywhere for more but… there was nothing.”

“That is odd. Very well, I shall examine the egg. Later I would like to look over the skeleton as well.”

“Awesome. I’m going to go take a nap.”

They were awoken by the sound of raised voices. Their own fault for choosing to sleep in Lizbert’s hut with not only the door ajar but the window open as well. It was still annoying though. They could move and sleep elsewhere or close everything or heck, even just roll over and pull a pillow over their head to cover their ear holes but… what was everyone fighting about?

“…totally can take care of it by myself,” Gramble was saying, his voice two steps away from having a protective growl in it.

“Yeah, right.” Cromdo scoffed. “You’re half-starved and go wondering around and often outof town almost every night, no way you could take proper care of it and the grumpling when it hatches.”

Ah, they were fighting about the egg. Not surprising honestly but… why was it so hard for everyone to get along?

“So I should be the one to have it,” Cromdo continued.

“Hell no,” Beffica came in next. “You just want it for one your schemes.”

“She’s right.” Wambus, the only one not yelling so his voice was hard to make up from in here. “Ain’t no way anyone here would trust you with it.”

“Gramble and I are clearly the best suited to take care of it.” Wiggle. “Having a little grumpling might be the exact thing I need to spark my muse.”

“Uh, no offense Wiggle,” Beffica again, her tone making it clear offense was meant, “but taking responsibility for raising a kid is kind of a huge deal. Doing it because you want to ‘spark your muse’ is the wrong reason. And you know I hate to admit it but Cromdo’s actually right about something for once, Gramble’s barely keeping himself alive. Adding on taking care of an egg and then eventually a grumpling is a bit much.”

“Exactly!” Cromdo again. “Wait what do you…”

Gramble interrupted with a growl. “I can handle it. An egg is exactly what I’ve always wanted and now I finally got a chance and I ain’t letting any of ya’ll take it away from me.”

Wambus’ voice came in next. “Assuming you can somehow keep it alive long enough on your own, you’re going to teach it not to eat bugsnax and then it’s going to starve to death then.”

“Buddy already said after they finish publishing their story they’ll come back with food supplies for me so it’ll be fine.”

“Can I hold it?” Chandlo surprisingly cut in next. “Just for a bit.”

“Sure,” Triffany said, indicating she’d been the one holding it before.

The argument resumed after that but Buddy stopped paying attention as they rolled over and pulled the pillow over their head, muffling the voices to be near inaudible. They were curious about how it was going to play out but not enough to stay awake any longer for now. They’d ask for an update on it whenever they woke up properly.

They woke feeling not well rested – such was never the case these days and thus not worth trying for anymore – but good enough to go about their day and pretend they were fine. After forcing themself out of bed, they weren’t around town, doling out the fruits of their earlier hunting and donating everything left over to Gramble’s barn. They then returned to Filbo who was doing his rounds around town.

“What happened with the egg?” they asked as they fell into step with him.

“Oh uh… Floofty examined it and said it’s okay. And then as soon as word spread about it everyone fought about who should take care of it. No one wanted to trust anyone else with it for one reason or another. Eventually Chandlo suggested everyone could just take turns with it. Which no one was happy about at first but then we talked about it some more and that’s the best way to do it for now since everyone was fighting about who was going to adopt it.”

“Interesting solution. Who’s all taking turns with it?”

“Gramble, Wiggle, Beffica, Triffany, Cromdo, and Chandlo. I wanted a turn too but… Beffica pointed that I tend to be a bit uh… clumsy so maybe I shouldn’t have a turn since I’d probably break it or lose it or… something.” He let out a heavy sigh, sagging a little before perking back up. “She’s right though so… I don’t mind.” He’d never told a more obvious lie. “I can keep updated on it through just doing my normal stuff around town.”

“Hmm… it was great talking to you. I have something I need to go take care of though.”

“Uh… okay. See you later,” he said after them.

Beffica was in Filbo’s hut again, snooping. She jumped and even squeaked a little, as Buddy tapped her on the shoulder. “Oh, hey Bestie,” she said as she turned to face them. “Don’t sneak up on me like that.”

Buddy normally would’ve apologized but they weren’t very happy with her right now so they went straight to business instead. “You need to let Filbo have turns watching the egg too.”

“Uh… why?”

“Because he wants to.”

“But… he’s Filbo.” She gestured with her paws as if her point were the most obvious thing the world.

Crossing their arms as they stared at her, Buddy didn’t respond.

It took her a few seconds but finally she sighed and rolled her eyes. “Fine. If you think he can be trusted with it, I’ll talk to the others about him getting a turn too.”

“Good. Thanks bestie.” They lifted a paw to fist bump her turning to leave. They had tasks and stuff they needed to get back to.

Not even a full two weeks later and everyone in town had been scheduled into have a turn pouching the egg. Even Floofty and Snorpy, the two Buddy would’ve thought the least likely to want anything to do with it. And a few weeks later when they finally convinced Shelda to return to town it wasn’t long before she’d basically taken on a grandma role to the egg, having her own occasional turn with it.

Buddy was the only one who didn’t have a turn taking care of it. They were too busy running around doing stuff and working on their story. They’d hopefully be free of this cursed island soon anyway so there was no need for them to get involved with it much.

But seeing everyone start to get along around the egg was nice. There was still fighting and disagreements but overall everyone was trending towards being nicer to each other. It was more than Buddy could’ve asked or hoped for, hopefully it would continue into raising the grumpling once the egg hatched.

I'm ending it here because a lot of the other ideas proposed for the AU are pretty scattered timewise which would make it hard to cover them in this fic quickly and coherently. But know, post game everyone ends up living in one big house to take care of the egg and there's polyamory stuff and more eggs going on in the group.

#my writing #bugsnax #the journalist

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kyotakumrau · 3 years

Text

2020.12.21 The World You Live In at Zepp Tokyo, 2nd event report

Fujieda again started with greetings, introduced himself and Takabayashi and then asked for applause for the band members.

And we got quite a surprise!

Kaoru and Toshiya came on stage!

Thus making Tokyo the only place where band members changed for each slot/session. As much as I'd love to see Kyo again I was happy as my friend only went to Tokyo and she's Toshiya's fan😊

F: please introduce yourself.

Kaoru: you already did lol. I'm Kaoru.

T: I'm Toshiya.

F: the last video you just watched was different from other sessions. The trailer for the concert film screenings that will start from February. It's something only you know right now. As you can imagine from the title it will be something similar to this, with the band members coming for the talk after.

K talked a bit about the situation as well.

T: it's still difficult to hold concerts, but this is something we can do. So I hope you will look forward to it.

Next F started the 'merch items introduction corner', he passed the items to the members.

K: I was watching the 1st slot and we talked about them in Osaka, too. (he talked more about the items and what members said)

F: yes, everything can fit in the pouch so it's a very useful item. You can buy all merch items and put then in the pouch and take home like that. Let's look at Toshiya's big pick key chains (he pronunced that very carefully😂)

They talked about members signs and company logos when suddenly K requested to have to lights in the venue set brighter so he could see everyone.

After that F announced they wil start with questions from the fans, passed the part of papers to others, but K gave his to F saying it's better if he chooses.

T: ok, I have a good one! 'It was Die's birthday yesterday, did you send him a birthday message? And are there any memorable presents you've received in the past?'

T: I got a bicycle. I was really happy at first, but then it was stolen from the parking area.

F: when was it?

T (I didn't catch it but from the context it must have been quite early on in their career)

F: during the tour?

T: yeah, we were always giving each other something for our birthdays, every year, but as years passed it got more difficult to choose something good and we then just stopped.

F: how about you, K?

K: I got a Mickey Mouse, about this size (he showed us with his hand, about 1m tall).

F: 'how do you deal with feeling tired?'

K: I go for a massage.

F: only during the tour?

K: anytime.

F: when the most? When writing songs?

K (laughing): but we're always writing songs

T: for me it's sauna.

F: do you often go when just staying at home?

T: for example after the gym

Ta: 'what did you eat most often during the stay at home period?'

K: ...what did I eat, what about you, Tooru?

Ta: sausages.

The whole venue kinda rotfled 🤣🤣🤣

F: that's cute😆

Ta: it's something I can usually only eat at home.

K: ...something I was really into...(still thinking)....(thinking)

F: for me it was Jiro-ken ramen.

T: at home?! So you weren't really staying at home?

F: I gained some weight after the overseas tour. I started to diet then, and one day a week, a cheat day, I could eat whatever I wanted. My cheat choice was Jiro, either at the restaurants or to take away.

K: ...what was it for me...

F: maybe nabe you talked about before? (in Osaka)

K wasn't impressed 😆

T: canned mackerel for me.

F: for when you drink etc? No, just like that?

They all laughed here a bit.

Suddenly K jumped in with a new topic.

K: in Osaka you talked about the theme behind Kyo's outfit, you said it was pink but he pointed his green hair as the main point.

F: that was difficult.

K: tbh I also thought the main idea was pink (he also talked about Kyo's use of Kansai dialect)

T: 'what were you able to do after becoming an adult?'

F: there's a lot of food people start eating when they grow up.

T: food topic again? 😆

F: for example for me it was raisins.

T: as I get older I can drink more. When we just debuted I couldn't drink at all.

F: drinking wine?

T: おっさんだから・'cause I'm an old guy.

K started talking about the food he couldn't handle when he was small but the next question kinda made me forget it 😅

' 'wet cat food is actually quite good, have you ever tried?'

F: I have a cat and sometimes when I give my cat wet food some will get on my fingers. I'd just lick it. You know some of it, the mackerel or tuna, it looks so good.

T: please send me a video when you eat cat food next time.

😂

(but to be fair most of canned cat food in Japan is 100% fish🤷‍♀️)

K: 'when you can tour again what local specialities do you want to eat?'

F: motsunabe in Fukuoka

T: miso type?

F: of course (if not Shinya would kill him)

K: what did you eat in Sendai?

F: bento

K: in Nagoya?

F: nothing special

T: we had normal bento, but it was miso katsu (Nagoya's style cutlet)

F: but if it's not in a restaurant it's not the same. Anything you want to eat, T?

T: Beki soba from Niigata.

F: have you tried it before?

T: when we went there on a tour, I really like soba.

They talked but more about food, tare katsu, okonomiyaki from Hiro and Jiro again.

T: is Jiro really that good?

F: 😍

K: I've tried it before, but it's (just) okay.

F: it's all about how the noodles taste (type of flour etc)

(more food talk, choosing between salt and tare options)

K: 'what's your favorite onigiri (rice ball)?'

F: how about you, K?

K: I don't eat onigiri.

T: Me also, but if I have to choose it's sujiko/salted salmon roe.

K (about not eating onigiri much): right, you only eat soba.

T then told us the story how much he loved salmon roe even as a child. When he was quite small he went shopping to the local supermarket with his grandmother. When he saw salmon roe in the shop he just started eating it directly from the shelf/container. Of course when his grandmother and supermarket staff found out it got very noisy, but because he was so young it was forgiven.

(back to onigiri topic)

Ta: salmon for me.

F: oh that is nice, I love the most tamago-kake-gohan rice ball (TKG is a very simple, traditional Japanese breakfast dish - just rice with a raw egg eaten with soy sauce, sometimes other toppings), the Newdays chain is selling them

K: the chain operates only in this area, no?

F explained that there are Newdays in other places too, fe Sendai. He also really got into explaining all pros incl the tasty gooey filling inside of the rice ball.

K (imitating F) oh that's nice 😂

F: 'it got so cold recently, what's your favourite season?'

T: spring or fall, I don't hate winter but I definitely don't like summer.

K: fall. (he said as this year wasn't too cold he could go out a bit during breaks)

F: so 2~3 weeks ago was your fav time.

K: here in Tokyo at least.

F: 'as we're staying home much more now do you have a recommended tv series or a channel?' (not just a movie)

K: Cobra kai.

F: ah, you tweeted about it.

K: it will be on Netflix next month, the 3rd season.

K talked about The Karate Kid (Japanese title 'Best Kid').

F: I don't know it.

Ta: me too.

K (shocked): you're serious???

T: I know, of course.

F: 'Best Kid'? 'Best Fit?'

T: just stop it🙃

F: how about your recommendation, T?

T: The BOYS on Prime.

K: I haven't seen it, but it seems interesting.

T: it is! I also like BOSCH. I'm just watching like after work and so on.

After that K talked about how cinema with the capacity reduced by half was nice because you could put your bag on the seat next to you etc, but recently came back to the full house (Demon Slayer did that...)

F: 'how do you feel being in front of people first time in a while?'

T: I'm sorry it has to be done this way

F: don't say that😆

(missed K's reply)

T: it's tiring to be in front of people.

F: but we do it in an interesting way.

T: yeah.

T: 'what's your favourite game? Even including older ones like famicon?'

K: games?

T: Spelunker on Amicon😆

T/K in agreement: where you die so quickly

K: PS5 is so popular, I didn't win.

F: it seems Kyo won once but the information he submitted had a mistake.

K: I applied for Sony's lottery and Big Camera's.

F: you don't want PS5, T?

T: recently I don't play.

K: what about the... what was it Tsushima?

They all reacted with 'ah'

F: what kind of game is it?

K: don't ask me😅 but it looks interesting.

T: it seems to be very popular abroad.

F: 'what's your favourite way to eat ozoni?'

(A new year soup with rice cakes)

Ta: the soy sauce based soup, with grilled mochi.

F: but what ingredients do you add?

K: isn't that way too detailed??

Ta (tries): spring onion etc

K listed grilled mochi, spinach, carrot etc. Then he told us about his family tradition to properly make rice cakes for New year, pounding was so loud even if you wanted to watch tv, you couldn't. But then they had enough for a month.

T: soy sauce style.

F: with miso or?

T: I said soy sauce.

F: what ingredients?

T: rice cakes, spinach, and what is that... (he started to make circles with his hand) ...?

F: naruto?

T (yeah that/nods)

F: in my family we do soy sauce, rice cakes, carrot, fish cakes etc.

K (ignoring F comment that they should finish now, in a teasing way): what about osechi, which dishes do you like?

F: konbu maki or kurikinton.

K: how about you, T?

T: that egg dish that is kinda like this (he gestured the shape again)?

Ta: tatemaki?

F: datemaki!

T: I think it's datemaki.

K: I like that beef roll with carrot and green beans inside (its 牛肉の八幡巻き)

F (making very dreamy face): Aaaaaaah that😍 green beans are so good.

F: ok, thank you all.

K: what about Tooru (Ta)?

F: it's time, sorry.

Last comments.

Toshiya: thank you all for gathering here despite the COVID situation. It's difficult to do concerts now so we tried doing film screenings. In difficult times like this it's not only about the band members, there's our staff and also the venues. I'd love to play concerts again, please wait for us.

Kaoru: it is a difficult situation to share my personal opinion... if we can't do the concerts in a way everyone can enjoy... enjoy, it will affect our relationship of mutual trust. I think this (COVID) situation will continue for some time still, so I think it's better to go with the film screening events. But we will keep checking the situation. Please stay healthy and I hope all of you will come to watch it.

#dir en grey #the world you live in #kaoru #toshiya #薫 #zepp tokyo #fujieda #takabayashi

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dinosaurtsukki · 4 years

Text

wherefore art thou, romeo? | an osamu x f!reader one-shot

pairing: osamu miya x f!reader

word count: 6.1k words

contains: a boatload of crack, fluff if you squint, high school setting, more bickering than working on the actual play, mutual pining, best friends to lovers, brief mentions of the romeo and juliet with leonardo di caprio in it

summary: being best friends with the miya twins for years has prepared you for all of their shenanigans but even you’re taken by surprise when osamu, the guy you’ve been in love with for years, nominates you to play juliet for the class play and atsumu to play romeo

a/n: *squints at word count* okay this was supposed to be released in three chapters but i ended up writing all of it in one go and i didn’t know exactly where to separate the chapters so here it goes

the day started out fairly normal, if fairly normal meant that your two best friends were using your ruler to divide a candy bar accurately into two during homeroom while waiting for the teacher, could be called ‘fairly normal.’ but when those two friends were the miya twins, that’s how normal things got. the teacher arrived a bit later, announcing some reminders about the cultural festival dates, before the time was handed over to the Class President, a guy with glasses and straight black hair that you and your friends just called ‘Mr. President.’

“for the cultural festival, our class, due to majority votes, has decided to put on the play: ‘Romeo and Juliet,’“ Mr. President announced. judging from his cheeky smile, you could tell that he may have had a hand in those ‘majority votes.’

“aw, yuck. don’t tell me ya voted for that, y/n,” atsumu nudged you from behind your desk.

“why are you assuming its me?” you grumbled, batting his hand away.

“aw, no crepe cafe then,” osamu said sullenly beside you. your gaze was pulled to him, as it always was. now that the spring inter-high was over, osamu was mostly in his school uniform, not that you minded. his silver hair, that he got in trouble with the principal for, was pushed haphazardly to the side and gleamed in the sunlight.

“now,” Mr. President continued. “what we have to decide on right now is who gets which acting roles and who gets to do the technical jobs.”

“painting sets? painting sets?” atsumu poked you and osamu.

“hmm, i’d kind of like to work on the lights,” you hummed, already imagining yourself scrolling through your phone and switching on the spotlight once every few minutes. osamu was quiet and you knew he was probably thinking of painting sets too.

“now, is there anyone who’d like to volunteer for playing romeo?” Mr. President asked, surveying the class. “you can also nominate people and--”

osamu abruptly raised his hand up. your eyes widened, wondering if he was going to volunteer. atsumu had the same concern.

“whoa, whoa. don’t tell me yer thinkin’ of playing romeo?” atsumu laughed incredulously.

but that isn’t what osamu did. in full Dramatic Flair, osamu miya pointed at his twin and announced “i nominate miya atsumu to play romeo.”

the laughter in atsumu’s voice died as quickly as the class erupted into murmurs. based on the snatches of conversation you heard, atsumu was going to be wielding a sword and probably wearing tights.

“okay, that’s one nomination for atsumu to play romeo,” Mr. President nodded, writing atsumu’s name on the board. you stifled a giggle as you heard atsumu stand up in his seat behind you.

“wait! wait! i nominate ‘samu to play romeo!” atsumu exclaimed hurriedly. the reaction wasn’t as loud as before and osamu flashed his twin a smug grin.

“i’ll make sure to get a nice, bright spotlight on you,” you smiled cheekily at him.

“so, we have atsumu-san nominated to play romeo and--”

“i’m not done,” osamu interrupted. “i also nominate y/n to play juliet.”

if atsumu reacted at a snail’s pace, yours was quite similar to how ketchup fell out of a bottle: none at first, before coming out all at once. within that length of time you spent staring into the void, Mr. President already wrote down your name on the blackboard and proceeded with the rest of the nominations (there weren’t any). the class voted, and you just barely felt someone pat you on the back to congratulate you for the role.

it was right when the decision over the roles was over when you turned slowly towards osamu, who had the audacity to flash a peace sign at you, and whisper ‘what have you done?’

...

“I CAN’T BELIEVE YA NOMINATED US TO PLAY ROMEO AND JULIET!” you and atsumu practically screamed at osamu during lunch break and for the rest of the day until you got to the miya twins’ house, where you spent most of your time, and cracked open the script that Mr. President handed out.

“sheesh, that was hours ago. get over it already,” osamu said, not looking up from the book he was reading: Beginner Techniques in Set Design. you didn’t even think he was reading, just mocking you and atsumu about the fact that he got the awesome job of painting sets.

“it was hours ago but atsumu and i are stuck with rehearsals for weeks!” you complained.

“not only that, but we’d have ta read shit and memorize shit,” atsumu seethed. “and we know that y/n sucks at that!”

“hey! i bet i could do better than you!”

“i don’t think ya can!”

osamu watched the battle from the top of his book, smiling to himself as you and atsumu quickly got into one of your fights that distracted you from the main reason behind the fight: osamu himself. ‘they’re still just like kids,’ he thought, watching you proceed to trap atsumu in a headlock.

the three of you had been the best of friends since grade school when you pushed atsumu off a jungle gym and osamu laughed and high-fived you. it was when the three of you were eating breakfast after a sleepover in your first year of high school, when you said that atsumu only had two brain cells and that ‘one was a skater boy, the other said see you later boy’ and osamu laughed so hard he got milk coming out of his house, that he realized he just might be in love with you.

“so, why didn’t you nominate yourself to play romeo?” suna asked him the next day while they were in the middle of stapling felt stars on a piece of dark blue fabric. like osamu, he was also lucky enough to be put in set design. “i mean, if you like her so much.”

“because i don’t want to play romeo,” osamu said as-a-matter-of-factly. “and i think making ‘tsumu do it is hilarious.”

“you really do have a one-track mind,” suna hummed and turned around to where atsumu and y/n were already busy working on the scene where romeo and juliet meet.

“ugh i have to kiss her hand?”

“well, do you want to kiss my foot?”

“i’d rather kick ya in the face!”

“you know, i feel like this on its own would make a great play,” suna said, watching the scene.

“a romeo and juliet where the lovers actually hate each other but their opposing families desperately want to push them into an arranged marriage. sounds pretty neat,” osamu mused.

“okay, why don’t you two take a break, collect yourselves, and then we’ll come back in ten,” Mr. President sighed. at that, you and atsumu quickly stopped quarreling and stalked off in different directions. you headed straight for osamu and suna.

“sometimes i can’t tell who’s the more insufferable one between you two,” you narrowed your eyes at osamu who had the audacity (the only thing he never seemed to run out of) to smile innocently.

“it’s one of life’s greatest mysteries. like, whether the chicken or the egg came first,” suna added.

“just give it a few weeks. atsumu will soon embrace his fate and you’ll be an amazing juliet,” osamu patted the top of your head. if you weren’t so annoyed with him you would have felt the butterflies in your stomach. except now you just wanted to bite his hand off.

“you know what, i’m going to kita’s later,” you muttered, pulling your phone out to text kita shinsuke, aka your adoptive mother.

“hmm? why?” osamu asked.

“because he’s the only sane person i know. plus he’ll help me out with my lines,” you explained, sighing with relief when you got a prompt reply from kita.

“oh, well i was planning to buy some convenience store snacks that i saw on sale for when i do homework later,” osamu said, trying not to sound disappointed.

“maybe next time,” you smiled apologetically. “but in the meantime, maybe get your twin over there to memorize his and not fuck up.” osamu looked up at his brother who was holding the script up a few inches from his face.

“you’re right,” osamu agreed. “but, it would also be funny to edit out a few words here and there.” you returned his cheeky grin.

“you read my mind.”

...

“kitaaa what if it means something that osamu chose to make me and atsumu romeo and juliet,” you groaned, face planted on the coffee table in kita’s living room while he peeled tangerines. “like, what if he realized i actually liked him for this long and this is his way of friend-zoning me?”

“osamu’s the kind of person who’d tell you right away if he doesn’t have the same feelings for you,” kita shook his head.

“that means he’s going to reject me soon!” you sat up, planting your hands on the table.”

“y/n, you’re doing it again,” kita gently reminded. “think of it this way, maybe he nominated you to play juliet because he wants to see you as juliet. but he’s not fully ready for the commitment so he nominated atsumu to be romeo.”

“or he just wants to mess with us, which is probably the case,” you chuckled half-heartedly. “maybe i’ll just believe that.”

“or, think of it this way,” kita placed a peeled tangerine into your hand, like the mom friend that he was. “you could use the opportunity to be the best juliet ever, someone that osamu can barely tear his eyes away from.”

“and i can show up atsumu at the same time!” you grinned at the idea. kita sighed.

“you know, i feel like your sheer desire to just beat atsumu at everything may be a hindrance but go on.”

“yeah, yeah, you lost me at ‘beat atsumu at everything’,” you sang as you cracked open your script. “now help me. i have to memorize all this by tomorrow.”

...

“i think yer all wondering why i’ve gathered ya here today,” atsumu began.

“we’re... in the volleyball clubroom,” aran spoke slowly.

“which is where we always hang out,” suna added. atsumu raised an eyebrow and a hand to silence them, which sometimes worked.

“i’ve gathered ya guys to form the all-important, top-secret team with only one goal in mind!” atsumu paused for dramatic effect, which suna purposely ruined by coughing. “we’re gonna to get myself out of playing romeo for the class play.”

“let me guess, whatever it takes?” aran asked, his arms folded.

“whatever it takes!”

and atsumu took that completely seriously. the next day, he gathered aran and suna to the clubroom again to execute his master plan, version 1: operation casting call.

“get it? cause, ya know, i’m part of a cast, and i’ll be showing up in a cast,” atsumu grinned proudly, showing off the roll of bandages that he bought yesterday at a drugstore.

“okay, first of all: lame pun,” aran sighed. “secondly, that’s not a cast you’re just wrapping your foot in bandages and not encasing it in plaster which i think was what you were originally going for. lastly, do you realize just how many holes your plan has?”

“oh yeah? like what?” atsumu crossed his arms and scoffed.

“like the fact that your twin brother would know whether or not you were injured yesterday,” suna brought up.

“...i’ll jus’ say that i sprained my ankle jus’ now,” atsumu said.

“as if he’s going to believe you,” suna snorted.

“i’m just saying, please ditch this plan before you embarrass yourself,” aran sighed. atsumu felt his face heat up with embarrassment.

“sh-shut up! this plan is gonna work and i’m not gonna play fuckin’ romeo for another day!” atsumu snapped. “now help bind my foot.”

aran and suna looked at each other. “you’re taking a video of what’s happening later,” aran said while suna nodded.

“i hate ya guys,” atsumu crossed his arms.

a few minutes later, his foot was all wrapped up thanks to aran and atsumu was propped up on suna as he hobbled into the classroom. with full dramatic flair that he never seemed to run out of, atsumu slid open the door to the classroom.

“Mr. President! sorry to say this but i sprained my ankle!” he cried. everyone inside turned to look at him with you raising an eyebrow at the dubious looking ‘sprained ankle.’

“you know, if you spoke like that all the time you’d make a great romeo,” his twin quickly piped up from near the door where he was busy painting a tree.

“shut up ‘samu, ya traitor,” atsumu muttered at him. Mr. President had walked closer and inspected the bound foot.

“osamu, is this true?” he asked.

“w-wha? don’t ya believe me?” atsumu splattered. beside him, suna had already brought out his phone. mad, atsumu pushed himself off his ‘friend’ and tapped his ‘sprained’ foot on the ground. ‘it hurts! see! ow!” atsumu lied.

quick as a flash, osamu kicked atsumu’s good foot, causing him to hop on his ‘sprained’ foot.

“fuck! ‘samu!” he yelled.

“well, i guess there’s nothing to worry about,” Mr. President smiled and clapped his hands together. “and atsumu-san, that was a good attempt at acting. i hope you channel that passion into rehearsal today.”

atsumu could do nothing else but mumble. “yeah, fine...”

...

“i can’t believe atsumu even thought that his plan would work,” you laughed, recounting the events of earlier that day. you were sprawled across the wooden floor backstage the theater your class was going to use for the cultural festival. osamu was right beside you, painting one of the backdrops for the play.

“i really do think all the brainpower went to me sometimes,” osamu mused as he carefully painted the sky around the white clouds. there was a look of pure concentration on his face that made you think that maybe osamu was quite excited to do the set design for the play. ‘it’s always the things that you don’t really expect him to get into,’ you wondered as you watched him.

“hey, is this shade of blue a bit too... blue?” he asked, holding the paintbrush to you. you scooted over next to him, grateful for the excuse to be nearer osamu.

“it could use a bit more white to look more like the sky,” you answered.

“hmm, can you pass me that can of white from over there?”

“sure, let me just-- hey!”

a splatter of blue paint landed on your nose as osamu swiped his paint brush over it. once again, he had the audacity to snicker as you grabbed the paint brush from him to splatter blue paint over his hair.

“you are so dead, miya osamu,” you narrowed your eyes and grinned at him as you picked up the tube of red paint from beside your knees.

“wait, wait y/n,” osamu laughed and held up his hands in surrender. “that’s red paint right there.”

“you didn’t seem to have a problem with brushing light blue paint on my nose!” you exclaimed pointing at your face.

“well, it is a bit of a good look because it brings out your eyes--” he was cut off by you squirting red paint right at his face. slowly, osamu raised a hand to touch the paint on his cheek. “you know, i kind of deserve that.”

“you definitely do,” you stared down at him with both hands on your hips before bursting out laughing. osamu blinked up at you before joining in the laughter. even with your blue nose, you still looked absolutely radiant. just like how you were earlier during rehearsals as you did your best performance of juliet. you captured everyone’s attention and even atsumu actually made an effort to get to your level.

“come on,” osamu chuckled, standing up and ruffling your hair with the hand that still had red paint on it. “let’s go wash up.”

the feeling of him ruffling your hair was such an old and familiar gesture that you couldn’t even remember when osamu started doing that. but you could clearly remember everything else you did when you were kids. watching cartoons and mixing different kinds of cereal in the morning, trying to climb up the drainpipes into each other’s rooms, the endless cycle of calling each other names, crying from too much teasing, and saying sorry only to forget two minutes later.

you watched, head cocked to the side as osamu washed the paint from his face while you dried your hair. he didn’t realize just how much soap he was getting in his eyes and the cute, childishness of it made you giggle.

“what?” osamu looked, or rather, turned his head to you.

“your eyes are going to burn at this rate,” you snickered, stepping over to him and placing your hands under the faucet before gently washing the soap from osamu’s face. you didn’t even realize what you were doing until you were doing it and by then, it was too late. osamu didn’t seem to mind, not even when you used the towel around his neck to pat his face dry.

“there, now you just have a big red stain on your nose,” you laughed nervously as osamu opened his eyes.

“at least it goes with my hair,” osamu snickered, tossing his towel over your head before ruffling it. you felt your face heat up and smiled awkwardly at him in response.

“is this your idea of trying to dry my hair?”

“i think it’s kind of working.”

“it’s not working,” you laughed, taking the towel from him. “but thanks.” you felt your throat tighten with the words you wanted but were too afraid to say. you didn’t know when you started falling for one of your best friends and maybe it was thanks to all the shoujo manga you’ve read for years, but you knew that the best friend and the main character rarely ever got together.

luckily, it was osamu who said something. “you know, you were pretty good earlier as juliet. i bet ‘tsumu was threatened,” he laughed, lifting his bag and starting to walk towards the school exit. you jogged to catch up to him.

“no thanks to you though,” you snorted.

“hey, it’s all for the sake of making memories,”

“we could have made memories while painting sets,” you huffed. “you know, like more paint fights.” osamu flashed a sideways smile at you.

“we’d have those regardless. i wanted to see you as juliet.”

you could feel your heart beating loudly in your ears as you forced yourself to think of a million other reasons as to why osamu would say that, only to focus on the single, most probable one that could mean everything you’ve ever dreamed of coming true. “osamu, i--”

“i can’t believe ya left me!” atsumu exclaimed loudly behind you two, causing you to jump. you turned around just as he slung his arms around both of you and his twin.

“i can’t believe you thought pretending to sprain your ankle would work,” osamu muttered, looking slightly annoyed at his twin.

“shut up! i can’t believe ya’d break my cover! my own brother!”

“i think you two are way past that already,” you snickered, slightly annoyed at atsumu’s sudden appearance but unable to admit that you didn’t miss having him around either.

‘if i never get to confess to osamu, i’ll still have this,’ you thought, with a satisfied smile on your face.

...

“no offense, atsumu, but i think you should just move on from the fact that your plan to get yourself out of playing romeo just isn’t going to work,” suna said, lounging across his friend’s bed and uploading the video he took of atsumu’s ‘master plan’ failing. “just accept your fate, like what romeo did.” atsumu stopped pacing and regarded suna with a raised eyebrow.

“ya read the play?”

“i read the summary,” suna answered. “at this rate, everyone knows you’re going to be faking some accident.” atsumu made no response and suna realized he needed just one more push. “also, you’re basically losing to y/n.”

that got atsumu’s attention. “since when did she wanna be juliet anyway?” he muttered.

just then, the door to their room flew open and in walked a very excited aran carrying a relic from the past, an actual DVD in its case, and a bag from the convenience store.

“yer late,” atsumu scowled at him.

“yeah, and you didn’t listen to what i said and looked really dumb earlier,” aran said, much to atsumu’s embarrassment. “anyway, i think i have a solution to your woes,” he grinned, presenting the DVD to the two of them.

“what the fuck am i gonna do with movie ‘romeo and juliet?’“ atsumu frowned.

“it’s not just any romeo and juliet movie, it’s the romeo and juliet movie!” aran said enthusiastically. “starring leonardo di caprio!”

“who now?”

“he’s the guy who didn’t win an oscar for years until the bear movie,” suna explained.

“ooooohhh.”

“you uncultured shits,” aran sighed. “anyway, atsumu, just accept your fate--”

“that’s what i’ve been trying to tell him!”

“... and open your eyes to how awesome it is to play romeo!” aran finished. atsumu looked from the DVD in his friend’s hands, to suna on his bed, and to the bag of convenience store snacks, before sighing and nodding.

“if i decide it’s shit ten minutes in, we’re dropping the movie and yer all gonna tell me i’m right.”

but he was wrong, oh so wrong.

just like every middle-aged mom or english literature university student who watched Romeo + Juliet, atsumu was pulled in by leonardo di caprio’s sincere, expressive eyes. he practically swooned at the scene where romeo and juliet met from different sides of the fish tank to that iconic pool kiss, and by the end of the movie, atsumu almost teared up. he tried to hold back his emotions, in the hopes of not looking lame in front of his friends, only to find aran practically sobbing and suna clutching his knees to his chest.

“that was... really fucking beautiful,” atsumu cursed as the credits rolled.

“do you understand now? what it means to play romeo?” aran put a hand on his shoulder.

“do it for leo di caprio, atsumu,” suna added. atsumu sniffed and nodded his head eagerly.

“i will, i’ll do it for leo.”

...

it was a normal day at school, if normal meant you were wearing a blanket wrapped around your waist to make you ‘feel as if you were in costume’ and mixing vending machine coffee and vending machine chocolate milk in styrofoam cups with your best friend who also happened to be the guy you were in love with. that was as normal as thing got when you were best friends with the miya twins.

and that only meant that seeing atsumu come in for rehearsals, with a determined spark in his eyes, and recite every line to utter perfection that you knew william shakespeare himself would be proud of, was just pushing the boundaries of ‘normal.’

that only meant you had to be on your A-game too and before you knew it, you and atsumu had put on your best performance yet. your undying competitiveness and atsumu’s devotion to leonardo di caprio had gone a long way. all throughout that, osamu had a ‘cat-who-just-ate-the-canary’ smile on his face as he watched from the props area.

“you look like you’re going to say ‘all according to keikaku’ at any time,” suna observed.

“oh, i am saying it in my head,” osamu said, watching you and atsumu onstage. he had hoped for two outcomes: either you were both comically terrible at the play, or that you were slightly mediocre. but a part in his mind knew you would find a way to surprise him. you always did, after all.

yours and atsumu’s performance got everybody in class even more motivated about the play. osamu ended up in a million meetings with the fellow set designers, even learning how to paint trees to look as life-like as possible. although being busy wasn’t enough to distract him from looking at you, especially when dress rehearsals began and you were wearing the most stunning dress that the costume department worked on. meanwhile, atsumu pretty much rehearsed, ate, and slept with his prop sword.

finally, the big day of the cultural festival came around. despite the fact that you utterly loathed having to play juliet at first, you couldn’t help but feel proud at how far you’ve come.

“hey, maybe i should just go to acting school or something,” you joked, sitting beside osamu and smoothing your dress over your legs which dangled over the side of the stage.

“you’ll run home crying after you hear any sort of criticism,” osamu snorted.

“mean! i deal with criticism really well!” you pouted. osamu raised an eyebrow at you and you rolled your eyes. “you know i was joking. the fact that i haven’t received any acceptance letters from the universities i applied to is kind of making me crazy.”

“so, is the fact that you’re playing a fourteen year-old girl who has to hide her love from her entire family before later killing herself a good way of escaping?” osamu asked.

“yeah, that and watching atsumu’s surprising transformation,” you snickered, turning around to watch atsumu and suna horsing around onstage. or rather, it was just suna from one end of the stage tossing chocolate chips at atsumu who was attempting to catch them with his mouth.

“i asked suna and aran about what changed but their lips are tightly sealed,” osamu shrugged. “i like to think that he hit his head somewhere.”

“well, he’s going to hit his head some time during the day at the rate he’s going right now,” you said, watching atsumu laugh and choke at the chocolate in his mouth. it was funny at first, until you noticed that atsumu kept on coughing.

“osamu,” you quickly tapped his twin. osamu turned around and immediately rushed over to his brother who was now turning a bright shade of red.

“oh my god, were there peanuts in that chocolate?” you asked. atsumu let out a gasp and nodded his head.

“i’ll go get his meds,” osamu quickly jogged off only to be replaced by a very concerned Mr. President. “someone get him some water!”

“i never thought atsumu-san was allergic to nuts. is it serious?” he asked, handing you his water bottle which you opened and quickly gave to atsumu who was now sitting down on the floor.

“well, it’s mostly rashes and an itchy throat but as long as he takes his medicine, he’ll be fine,” you shook your head.

two allergy tablets, an apology from suna, and a long explanation later, atsumu was lying down in the nurse’s office with the swelling noticeably reduced. “unfortunately, he’d have to sit out the rest of the play so that the reaction completely subsides,” the nurse told you, osamu, and Mr. President. you sighed and regarded atsumu with hands on your hips.

“you thought they were chocolate-covered raisins, didn’t you?”

atsumu didn’t say anything except: “i’m sorry leo di caprio.”

“this is the absolute worst time for this to happen,” Mr. President sighed as he addressed your classmates backstage. “there’s only thirty minutes before showtime and our romeo is out of commission. anyone have any bright ideas?”

“does anyone else here vaguely know atsumu’s lines?” you asked around. “someone who read the script?” instead, you were met with silence. as much as you wanted for some miracle to happen and for the show to go on because you genuinely did want to play juliet, putting up a half-assed play with one of the two main characters gone wasn’t going to look good either.

you sucked in a deep breath, preparing yourself to make the call, but osamu, who had noticed your expression earlier, stepped forward. you looked at him with wide eyes and just caught him glance at you before addressing mr. president.

“i can step in for romeo.”

“osamu...?” you asked.

“i haven’t really read the script but i’ve heard atsumu rehearsing by himself often enough to pick up a few lines,” osamu rubbed the back of his head, already feeling nervous.

“also, twin-sense,” suna piped up. “you know, your psychic connection between twins?”

osamu nodded his head slowly. “yes, that too.”

“alright, alright,” mr. president nodded his head. “well, i guess that’s better than nothing and osamu can fit into atsumu’s costume too. if you can, use these thirty minutes to read as much of the script as possible.”

“got it,” osamu nodded. and with that, everyone resumed preparations and you were pulled into the dressing room to get your hair and make-up done. when you emerged, osamu was sitting on the floor against the far side of the backstage, bent over a copy of the script and muttering in concentration.

“hey,” you greeted, sitting down beside him. he was already dressed in his costume: a white, long-sleeved shirt with golden buttons and some tassels on the shoulders. his hair was also combed back with a few strands falling across his forehead.

“god, i can’t believe atsumu memorized all this shit,” osamu shook his head and looked up at you only to stop short. he had seen you about a million times in your juliet costume but with the make-up and your hair arranged so elegantly, you looked absolutely breath-taking.

“something wrong?”

“i... i’m just panicking about having to play romeo all of a sudden,” he blinked.

“i know. scary, isn’t it?” you nodded. “i... you didn’t have to though. i’m pretty sure everyone was ready to throw in the towel.”

“and waste all my hard work painting sets?” osamu raised an eyebrow at you. “no way.” you tossed your head back and laughed.

“well, if you put it that way...” you nodded and smiled bravely. “the show will be fine. if you forget a line, just improvise. the most important thing is channeling the emotion.”

“i think i can do that,” osamu smiled and reached a hand out to you. “to the best show ever?”

you grinned and shook his hand. “to the best show ever.”

...

the show was a complete disaster. as much as osamu did try to recite atsumu’s lines completely from memory, it was as if everyone was thrown off their game throughout the entire play. cues for special effects were forgotten (someone accidentally turned on a smoke machine during the first scene), props were misplaced (the actor for Tybalt was using a footlong hotdog against osamu’s prop sword), and there were more than a few times when someone missed their lines. at one point, you ended up reciting Team Rocket’s iconic spiel after the line ‘a rose by any other name is just as sweet.’ but, despite everything being a shitshow, it still ended up being overall entertaining. the audience laughed through most of the obvious fails and that caused the actors to loosen up just a bit.

and it was osamu who ended up spearheading the comedic aspect of your ‘romeo and juliet’ play. from his dry, deadpan delivery of the very emotional lines, to his small inserts and side-comments about the play itself. you even had to stop yourself from laughing at times. but if you and atsumu were amazing at playing the scripted ‘romeo and juliet’, you and osamu were complete naturals when it came to improvising.

“i don’t know if this is a success by conventional definitions,” Mr. President addressed everyone backstage as soon as the play was over. “but... we sure did make everyone out there laugh.”

“and i consider that a win!” atsumu cheered beside you. he was looking much better, still with a bit of rashes though and his voice kind of heavy from the medicine. “kind of sad that i didn’t get to play romeo though,” he whispered at you.

“that’s alright. i channeled you in spirit,” osamu patted his twin’s shoulder.

“like hell ya did! i couldn’t believe ya used the dagger to kill yerself at the end,” atsumu argued.

“right?? i had to be all ‘oh romeo, you must have forgotten to use the poison you brought in your pocket!’” you recalled.

“i see dagger, i use dagger,” osamu reasoned. “wait, that’s ‘Macbeth’ isn’t it?”

“in a nutshell,” you shrugged.

“ugh, i’ve had enough of nuts for a day, don’t even mention it,” atsumu groaned, pushing away from the two of you and wandering off to the snack table that your classmates prepared.

“damn, i had more puns up my sleeve,” you sighed, watching him leave.

“you’ll find a time to use them, don’t worry,” osamu reassured you. “in the meantime... do you want to, get out of here first? explore the rest of the cultural festival?” you felt your face flush but nodded nonetheless.

“i’m sure no one will notice the main characters of their cast go missing,” you grinned. “let’s get out of here, romeo.”

when osamu meant ‘let’s check out the cultural festival’, he really meant buying a bunch of snacks from the stalls set up all around the school. but then again, that’s what he did all the time. soon enough, the two of you were sitting on the rooftop with your prized horde.

“thank god i don’t have some weirdass nut allergy like tsumu. that’s definitely evidence that i got the stronger genes,” osamu said, biting into a crepe he just bought. “also the fact that he didn’t check that chocolate-covered nuts packet.”

“i still feel sorry for him. he worked really hard to play romeo well,” you sighed.

“hey, i tried to play my part seriously. well... sometimes.”

“you did nail the whole ‘yearning for my love juliet’ part right,” you grinned, remembering the surprise at seeing the tenderness and longing on osamu’s face as he recited romeo’s lines about being in love with juliet. ‘well, that’s something for me to daydream about for the rest of my life you,’ you thought.

that was until osamu said “well, it’s good practice for when i actually confess to someone.”

confess to someone.

‘does that mean, all this time? he’s liked someone?’ you felt your stomach drop. you’ve never known osamu to be expressive when it came to people he had feelings for. were you just ignoring all the signs? was--

“it’s you, idiot,” osamu sighed.

“wait, what?” you looked at him with wide eyes. osamu sighed again and ran a hand through his hair.

“you know, i was thinking of a more suave way to say this but you looked like how you did earlier when you were supposed to be engaged to tybalt,” he chuckled. “so, i put two and two together for the first time. you’re the one i like, y/n.”

it was the moment you’ve been waiting for for so long, and yet the only thing you could come up with was “haha, cool.”

in response, osamu stared at you long and hard before taking another bite out of his crepe. “i think your brain is fried,” he muttered through a mouthful of crepe.”

“hold on, hold on,” you held a finger up, finally coming back to your senses. “you had a crush on me and also the audacity to make me juliet and have your twin brother as romeo?”

“i thought you’d be really cool as juliet but i didn’t want to go through the work of being romeo,” osamu said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “obviously it backfired but--”

“that’s called karma, osamu,” you pointed an accusing finger at him. “if you think i’m going to let you off easy i’m--”

you were cut off by osamu’s lips meeting yours and the taste of whipped cream and strawberry on your tongue. your brain short-circuited, trying to think of a way to describe this situation other than ‘haha, cool’ again. osamu, sensing your brain waves, pulled you even closer with a hand on your cheek.

“are you going to let me off now?” he raised an eyebrow at you after you parted. you smirked.

“i’ll have to think about it.”

“yeah?” osamu mumbled, his smirk matching yours. “what else do i need to do?” you leaned forward before taking a bite out of the crepe in his hands. you chewed while grinning at the surprised look on osamu’s face.

“now we’re even.”

taglist (still open to anyone who wants in!): @montys-chaos @miyumtwins @strawberriimilkshake @pocubo @sugawara-sweetheart@akaashisbabydoll @laure-chan@therainroguefanfiction@atetiffdoesart@stephdaninja@oikaw-ugh@charliefredb@dramaqueenweeb1469@tremblinghearts@applepienation@doodleniella @haikyuu-my-love

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narniagiftexchange · 3 years

Text

THE WINTER NARNIAN GIFT EXCHANGE.

for: @lukejulies from @teenagedpevensies.

my best friend, my sibling.

for @lukejulies from @teenagedpevensies

“Why your Majesty it’s such an honor to run into you here,” Lucy curtsied deeply, giggling.

“Oh yes your Majesty, simply divine, what have you done with your hair?” Edmund bowed, keeping a serious expression fixed to his face.

“Brushed it, for once, your Majesty, and I must say where has your famous body odor gone this evening?”

“You mean you aren’t accessorizing with leaves and dirt anymore? Fascinating. You’re quite the trend setter, your Majesty, and if you must know my dearest sister I’ve taken the liberty of bathing today.”

“First time all week! Daring of you.”

“I thought so, yes.”

“Oh your Majesties! What an honor to run into you!” A noble from Archenland walked out into the hall. She was lady something or other, Edmund couldn’t quite remember which made him a little guilty. A little. To be fair, there were a lot of nobles here, and he was only twelve and had many many kingly duties. Like hiding out from the celebration with his little sister because if either of them went into the ballroom, they’d have to meet approximately 80 guests and then be expected to remember all of them. Very serious business, hiding from festivities.

Cair Paravel had finally gotten all fixed up, so they were hosting a huge celebration. It had taken about a year and a half to finish repairs and cleaning and furnishing, and it was good that the work was over and good to celebrate! But being in a room full of stuffy adults wasn’t Lucy or Edmund’s idea of a celebration. It wasn’t the first gathering the kings and queens had hosted since being crowned, but dear god it WAS the largest by a lot. Edmund had snuck out of the great hall and found Lucy sitting by the door making flower crowns, also having escaped from the chaos.

“Yes, good to see you again, madam,” Edmund said politely.

“Oh, your Majesty! Where did you get those divine flowers?” The lady motioned to the crown Lucy had placed haphazardly on her head.

Lucy and her quickly got into a lovely conversation about the flowers until the lady went to go find the gardens for herself. Lucy sent her off with a flower crown of her own and a brilliant smile.

“How do you do that?” Edmund asked.

“Do what, Ed?”

“Make friends with- well with everyone?”

“It’s not everyone, Tumnus’s nephew still hates me.”

“Impossible.” Edmund dismissed the statement with a wave. “Everyone likes you.”

“I’m just nice, I guess.”

“Well, I’m nice!”

“No, you’re polite, Ed. It’s different.” She took a seat next to one of the heavy wood doors.

“Is it really that different?” He sat next to her.

“Maybe. Or maybe I’m just cuter and sweeter and funnier than you and everyone thinks I’m an angel. It comes with being the youngest.”

Edmund shoved her, she laughed, the door opened, and Mr. Beaver stepped out.

“There you are! You can’t just disappear like that, Susan thinks you’ve been kidnapped. Or assassinated.”

“Oh Mr. Beaver, don’t make us go back in,” Lucy begged. “It’s lasted hours already, and I’m so tired.”

“Who said anything about going back in? Scoot over, I think I can hide away for ten minutes. It’s every creature for themselves at these things. The others can hold their own.”

The summer air in Narnia was heavy and warm, like the mantle of some great beast had been draped over them while they sat in front of a roaring fire. On days when there were no responsibilities to attend to, the teenaged kings and queens would often ride down to the river and swim there for hours, until their whole bodies shivered with the ice of the water. Susan and Edmund started the game of climbing the trees that trailed branches over the water and jumping in, and Peter and Lucy turned it into a competition to see who could make the biggest splash.

Sometimes the river turned their toes to prunes, or they began to fear catching a cold, and then they’d run around the forest, befriending squirrels and tree nymphs, climbing trees and rocks, and dancing and singing in clearings.

“Race you to the top of this tree,” Edmund shouted to Lucy, as she raced to catch up with him.

“No fair! We all know you’re the best at climbing!”

“Sounds like an excuse!” He was the best at climbing and demonstrated this with his graceful ascent into the tree’s lower branches.

“Edmund!”

“Better hurry up then if you want to win!”

Lucy reached the base of the tree, huffing and puffing, with a twig caught on the hem of her dress and dirt caking her bare feet. She jumped up to reach the lowest branch, caught hold of it, and promptly lost her hold. Edmund was seated on one of the middle branches of the tree by this point, watching with amusement.

“You’re the worst!” She called up, but she was grinning.

“Yes, but the best climber.”

“You have to race me later on foot, to make it up to me.”

“Actually Lucy, I don’t have to do anything.”

She caught hold of the branch and pulled herself up.

“One down!” He started climbing again, “only about twenty to go!”

She huffed in response.

They were quiet for a minute, both focusing on not losing their grip as they climbed higher and higher. Narnian trees, even the ones not inhabited by dryads, are particularly lovely. They are exactly the right height, always. They touch the sky or are as short as Peter and either way it’s right. They feel genuine; they make you think, this is a tree that knows, a tree that thinks, and feels. This tree has seen so much and is so beautiful, and being near it feels like being young. Each leaf is its own kind of beautiful, a tiny art piece. And each branch is strong and healthy, and holding onto it feels safe. Or maybe the trees back in England are like this, too. Neither Lucy nor Edmund could quite remember.

“I think I’ve gotten as high as the tree will hold me” Edmund called down after a bit.

“What do you-” Lucy stopped to catch her breath after heaving herself onto a particularly difficult branch, “what do you see Ed?”

“The forest, what do you think?”

“Oh whatever,” Lucy scowled up at him.

“Well, the trees all look plenty green up here. Like a sea of its own. The sky is lovely, it must be about noon, the sun looks to be straight up from here. The clouds look particularly alive today. Oh, is that-?” Edmund carefully stood, clinging tightly to the trunk of the tree, craning his neck to see something closer.

“What is it?”

“It’s a birds nest! Lucy get up here!”

“I’ve been trying! Don’t touch the eggs!”

“I’m not going to touch them, I’m not stupid.”

It was a phoenix nest, the eggs were red and looked hot to the touch. Lucy finally got to the top branch, Edmund giving her a little help by calling directions on where to put her feet for the last few branches, and the siblings stood on the branch together, overlooking the forest.

“We should name them,” Lucy said reverently, studying the three eggs.

“They have parents, you know.”

“Sure, but these can be special names that only we know. Then when they hatch, we’ll see phoenixes flying around and say to ourselves, I wonder if that’s little-” Lucy looked at him expectantly.

“Bartholomew?” He laughed at her scowl.

“You’re the worst. Pick a serious name,” she demanded.

“We should be climbing down, Susan and Peter are probably ready to head home about now.”

“Right.”

“Lucy?”

She didn’t meet his eyes, looked down at her hands instead as she picked at her fingernails. “It’s a bad night.”

It was late; most of the castle was asleep. Edmund hadn’t been, he was finishing the last chapter of the book he’d been reading. And clearly, since she was here, Lucy wasn’t sleeping either.

“Come on in.”

They sat on the floor, beside the mural on Edmund’s wall. They’d painted it for him when he turned 13. It turned out Mr. Tumnus had quite the artistic talent. Trees, tall and strong, the sun shining through the leaves. They’d all helped, and Susan said her favorite part was Lucy’s little squirrel she’d painted in the top left corner.

“What’s bugging you?” Edmund asked her, solemnly.

“Well not- Not bugging me so much as it’s just…” she paused. “No, I guess it is bugging me. We love it here, right?”

“Right.” They’d been over this conversation before, the two of them, and they’d both talked to Peter about it, and Susan, and many times all four of them had spoken about it in tearful tones.

“There’s no place I’d rather be, and it’s home, and we’ve been here for five years, and I’ve never truly really wanted to leave but. Do you ever think about it?”

“The professor’s house?”

“No, bigger.”

“Where our parents are.”

Neither acknowledged that they hadn’t said its name. Neither admitted that they no longer remembered.

“Do you remember what dad was like?” Lucy asked. She looked just as small as she had been, that very first day when they’d found Tumnus’s house empty.

“Brave. Funny. He told us stories.”

“I remember those. Do you remember what mom was like?”

“Worried.”

“And?”

“Kind. She loved us. She used to sing us lullabies.”

“I don’t remember the lullabies anymore.”

“I do. One of them at least. Do you remember anything?”

“A little. Nothing solid. It feels like that place was a dream. Like we were always meant to belong to here instead.”

“We do. We belong there too, but we do belong here.”

They were quiet for a moment.

“Do you think they miss us?” Lucy asked.

“Of course they do.” Edmund sighed. He laced his fingers together, remembering being a very small boy and holding his father’s hand to cross the street.

“Do we miss them?”

“You’re here, aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

“Is there anything else you want to talk about?”

“No, not really.”

“Well, you can stay as long as you’d like.” After a minute, he picked up his book again, and Lucy sat quietly, staring off into the middle distance.

“Edmund?”

“Yeah, Lu?”

“Will you sing one of mom’s lullabies for me?”

Edmund hated singing. ”Sure.”

She scooted over to sit next to him, and he hugged her.

“Um, the only one I really remember is this,” he cleared his throat and began to sing, resting his chin on Lucy’s head. “Sing a song of sixpence, a pocket full of rye, four and twenty blackbirds baked in a pie. When the pie was opened the birds began to sing— Wasn’t that a dainty dish to set before the king?”

He sang that song, and remembered another so he sang that one too, and another, and another. When he finally looked down at Lucy, he noticed that she’d been crying.

“I don’t remember any of them,” she said softly.

“I’m sorry, Lucy.” He felt close to tears himself.

She was quiet for a long time, sniffling.

“Do you need to talk any more?” He asked gently.

“No. I think I’m going to go back to bed.”

“Probably a good plan.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

When she left he set to work writing down as many songs as he could remember. He wanted them to always have them.

It’d taken teamwork and dedication and a week of trying but Lucy and Edmund had finally figured out how to scale the pillars of the throne room to perch in the rafters. And they were taking full advantage of it.

“Lucy! Edmund!!” Peter called from somewhere a few hallways away.

“Should we go see what he’s after?” Lucy asked, munching on a scone.

“Of course not, he either wants us to do some chore or other, or he found out about the scones.” They were Peter’s scones, he’d baked them yesterday.

“Maybe we shouldn’t have stolen them?”

“Hey, he bakes a whole batch every week and never finishes them before they go stale. We’re helping.”

“Fair enough.”

“Plus he’s being a jerk.”

“That too.”

Peter had been training all week for a tournament with some important noble. It was supposed to just be a friendly match, but Peter treated it like he did any of his other kingly duties, far too seriously. He was tired from training and tired from still keeping up with all his other work, and he’d been far more snappish than he normally was. This was agreed to be, by the two younger Pevensies, completely justified payback for the way he’d been behaving all week. Plus, his scones were delicious.

“LUCY! EDMUND!”

Peter was in the throne room now, stomping around. Magnificent though he was, and extremely kind most days, their brother acted like a toddler when he lost his temper over something petty. Lucy and Edmund exchanged looks. When Peter was below the rafter they were situated on, Edmund drew something from his pocket. Making a shushing gesture toward Lucy, he daintily dropped the acorn in his hand onto their brothers regal head. Both of them gathered themselves, hiding any trailing sleeves and dangling legs from Peter’s line of sight as he looked up. Lucy muffled giggles into her elbow, and Edmund hid his smile behind his hand. The door to the throne room opened and shut. Peeking over the side of the rafter and verifying that Peter wasn’t there anymore, they allowed themselves to burst out into laughter.

“Glad you find it so funny, now what HAVE you done with my armor?”

And there was Peter, leaning by the door. It had been a ruse.

“Armor? Why brother dear, I haven’t the slightest notion of what you’re talking about,” Lucy said sweetly.

“Get down here.”

“Come up and get us,” Lucy challenged, and there it was. Peter was hiding a grin, and soon trying and failing to climb the pillars of the throne room while they alternatively cheered him on and said he would never catch them, and his missing armor was completely forgotten in their laughter.

A good thing too because the smiley face they’d painted on the armor was still in the process of drying.

“I don’t know, Lu, doesn’t it seem a little. Well, risky?” Peter asked, moving a pawn.

“And how is it risky? It’s just a stag.”

“Yes, a magical stag. One that no one knows much about. I don’t think we should risk it.” Susan said, scribbling away on the paper that rested on the arm of her chair. She was writing a letter to someone, had been writing letters almost constantly for months, and no amount of pestering from Lucy or sleuthing from Edmund or curious looks from Peter had gotten answers as to who it was.

“Risk what? A few days away from the palace? Tumnus and the beavers and Oreius are perfectly capable of looking after things, they always have been before, and there’s nothing too pressing going on! Catching the stag could be big!” Lucy kicked her feet against the legs of her throne as she always did when she was excited. She was already dressed in her riding outfit as if she expected to go out and hunt right then.

“I think we should listen to Lucy,” Edmund spoke up from his game of chess with Peter, one that he was about to win by the looks of it.

“And why is that?” Susan sighed, casting an irritated look at her little brother.

“Because she’s never been wrong before,” he answered easily. “Well, other than thinking Tumnus is a good cook.”

“Is this still about finding Narnia?” Susan asked crossly.

“It’s always about finding Narnia. Lucy found our home, Susan, and we didn’t believe her, and she was right. That has to count for something.”

“I’d nearly forgotten about that,” Peter said thoughtfully.

“Me too,” Lucy said, a soft look crossing her face as she looked out the window at the people outside. Their home.

“Well just because she’s been right in the past doesn’t mean she’s always right,” Susan said, but her scowl had softened considerably. She smiled at Lucy. “No offence Lucy.”

“Still, she’s right about this. And who knows, we haven’t gone hunting well… hardly ever, it could be fun,” Edmund moved a piece on the board. “Checkmate! What does that bring our score to, Pete?”

“You’ve won nearly every game for the past year. I’m pretty sure our score is ‘I am solidly losing’” Peter looked at Susan. “What do you think?”

She sighed, fingers playing with the ends of her dark hair. “Fine. Let’s go hunt the white stag. Why not?” Her eyes glittered. She was excited about this even if she didn’t say so.

Lucy shouted with joy, stood right up and did a jig on the spot. “You won’t be sorry! Edmund! What should we ask it for when we catch it?”

“Well, we have to catch it first! I’m going to go to the library to research it.”

“I’ll come with!” Lucy looked out the window again, to the sea, to the people on the shore. She was glad that they were there. She looked at her siblings, the furrow in Susan’s brow as she thought of what to write next, the twinkle in Edmund’s eye as he headed off towards the library, the grin Peter donned as he tried to read over Susan’s shoulder. Yes, it was good that they were there. Very good.

#tcon #tconedit #lucy pevensie #edmund pevensie #narnia #narnia gift exchange #narniagiftexchange #winterexchange: 2 #type: fanfiction #for lukejulies #from teenagedpevensies

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spc4eva · 3 years

Text

Star-Burned: Chapter Two

Ngl, reader is well endowed in the breast department. hate me. trust me, reader is gonna complain about it later about her back hurting.

Paz fluff is probably my favorite thing to write. This fic is undoing me. Goddammit.

Word Count: 8,626

Rating: M (+18) oral sex m!receiving

Masterlist

Cross Posted on AO3

Paz barely understood what was happening when he'd crash landed, falling out of hyperspace and being thrown around the hull of his ship like a tin can before crash landing. It was miraculous he'd survived with just broken ribs. An even bigger miracle that he'd been found.

You were a pretty young lady with more hair than should be humanly possible, a ray of sunshine, and so hilariously goofy that Paz was smiling beneath his helmet half the time as you trotted in with meals for him, eying him beneath your mop of hair --- which you often tried to manage in a ponytail, though ringlets would fall free and cascade into your face smattered with a constellation of freckles. That's why he named you Tranyc -- Mando'a for sunny or quite literally translating to 'star-burned', because you were the ray of sunshine on his day while he was stuck in bed healing. You were good company, easy to talk to, never berated him despite how much of a burden he was. Took him less than a day to realize you were on your own, running the entire moisture farm on nothing but cultivated crops and several cups of caf a day. And despite how often you fumble over words, you were smart.

There wasn't much to do and the highlights of Paz's day consisted of you spending time with him. You had piled all your holobooks near him, given him the remote for the television, and anything else you thought he might like while you wandered off to go make repairs and tend to your livelihood. You must've been tired. The farm was a fulltime job on its own and now you had to look after him. Paz felt guilty, because you'd not complained once, not asked him for credits or when he might be leaving. You were cautiously curious, but not impolite with your questions. Not many people would have chanced bringing a Mandalorian into their home, let alone a young woman on her own. That was what was different about you and maybe it had to do with Paz's sheer luck of landing on a relatively backwater planet where people weren't in fear of their lives constantly.

Paz had lucked out.

He hated feeling weak, being unable to walk on his own, but you were blissfully patient and kind, cracking jokes and making silly faces, telling him how he'd be good as new to start back up on hunting -- or whatever it was that Mandalorians did. And while he was eager to not have his ribs feel as if they'd been kicked in by a bantha, he was also ruing the countdown for when he'd have to return to his ship and leave you behind. Despite it being a few scant weeks, Paz liked you. Not just because you were pretty, but he found your demeanor relaxing. So when he managed to get to his feet to go to the kitchen and he saw your hair sticking out on the couch, he trotted over without an afterthought to check on you.

He hadn't been expecting to see your coveralls crumpled on the floor and your beet red facing eying him in horror. Originally, he'd believed you were hurt from when he'd fallen on you. After all, you were a small thing. Despite being lean from working the farm you were dwarfed by him. And when the blanket had fallen over... Paz's mind began turning, the gears clicking into place, the disbelief that the pretty ray of sunshine had been caught in the midst of masturbating. To the thought of him.

Until that point you'd been hospitable and courteous, it was the last thing he expected and dangling deliciously in front of him like a forbidden fruit. He more than owed you at this point. He owed you his life and getting you off wasn't really repayment. In fact, Paz had enjoyed it, thinking the situation was more self indulgent than selfless. You became putty in his hands, passing out from a mixture of exhaustion and satisfaction. That brought a smile to his face -- well, there had already been a smile -- but it was bigger now.

He didn't mind cleaning you up and putting you into some more comfortable clothing, tucking you into the large bed that had obviously been yours. He had found discarded hair elastics under the pillows and a few socks that had been lost to the depths of the sheets. You had taken care of him, he could manage picking up your tiny form and putting you to bed. You didn't come around until morning when Paz was up in the fresher, still testing his weight on his aching chest.

"You can walk now," you popped your head through the open door, stating the obvious, but it made him smile that you weren't half as doleful as he'd thought you'd be after yesterday. "Um... I can make breakfast real quick and then there's something I wanna show you if you're up to it."

"If I'm up to it?" Paz rumbled, he still couldn't wear his armor, the weight would be too much of a burden. "How are you feeling?"

Your face brightened with blush immediately, matching the hue of your flaming locks at the sheer mention. "G-good, th-thank you."

The moment he'd put you to bed, he'd staggered off to the fresher to relieve himself and the throbbing erection he had from going through his ministrations. Not that you needed to know that he had been wanting more. Yesterday hadn't been about him. The last few weeks you had doted your attention on him.

"Good."

You darted away, back in your usual attire which consisted of mechanic coveralls, boots, and a tightfitting short sleeve shirt in russet. Your arms were bared from the bicep down and you wore a pair of beat up leather gloves, hair cinched at the base of your neck with a straining scrunchie that fought desperately to contain all the curls which rebelled at being held against the back of your slightly too large overalls.

Truthfully, you were very nervous over what had happened yesterday and even more distressed that you had slept away the entire freaking day. The hardworking farmer in you was berating you with every step, unbelievable, you slept the entire day until breakfast. Now, when drifters had stayed and you had slept with them, you had woken up and prepared breakfast without an afterthought. There was no guilt, no twisting of nerves in your tummy, because you knew that what had happened was a simple arrangement of two lonely people breaking up the cobwebs. What happened with the Mandalorian should have felt the same, but it didn't. Only one man had stayed a few days and engaged in multiple trysts and by the end, he'd been asking you to leave behind the moisture farm to go adventuring with him. While that was a very... juicy prospect, you couldn't think about leaving behind the canyons you'd known your entire life. You loved it here, even if it was solitude and silence.

From the views up on the plateau where your farm was located, a bird's eye view of the spanning clay walls, billowing in waves of amber, brown, and orange. Your favorite days were the overcast ones where the clouds would sweep low and fringe the mountaintops with mist. That was during the wet season when the lowest parts of the canyons would fill with turquoise water from the rain. The only freestanding water you'd ever gotten the luxury of seeing and it was still a trip on your speeder bike since you lived pretty high up on the plateaus. Wasn't that time of year though, it was still the dry season and so you had to keep regular maintenance on the farm to suck every bit of moisture up.

You kept mostly grains on the farm, but had a few animals to include tip-yips which produced eggs. Otherwise, any greenery you had was produced in your greenhouse, utilizing misty puffs of water to keep it nice and humid inside. Without it, you certainly wouldn't have been getting enough nutrients to live out this remote. You would stock up on seed every six months and grow leafy greens, root vegetables, had a few berry bushes, and rhubarbs. They were genetically modified to have additional benefits, keeping you going and healthy. You loved checking in on them, standing in your little bubble of green, imagining other planets that looked just like it but instead of being in a little capsule -- the entire planet was green. That was hard to fathom, giving the landscape you'd grown up on, but so were oceans and you knew they existed.

Jumbles followed you out to the coop, drooling all over the dirt as you scolded him for getting too close. His head drooped and he stayed behind while you picked out some fresh eggs and threw fodder out for the tip-yips. You knew if you didn't keep the birds carefully locked up, Jumbles would gobble them all up. "Calm down. I'll give you some eggs you beast," you chided as you stopped in the green house to pick a few vegetables and fruit before going back inside. You'd never wanted more aside from companionship and to not be alone. You loved your farm so much and all the work you had put into it. You loved this dry, arid planet and the raw beauty you got to witness. But you weren't perfectly content.

You were lonely.

Paz was waiting in the kitchen at the table, which was funny, considering he couldn't actually eat with you. Humming to yourself, you put a pot of caf on and then frowned at 6PO, who wandered around aimlessly. "6PO please make yourself useful. Go sweep out the greenhouse if you can't decide on what to do," you sigh, the droid looking as confused as ever, before creaking out the front door.

"Where did you get that droid?" Paz asked curiously as you set a skillet on the stove and began heating it up.

"Found it," you shrug. "Wasn't in one piece, so I scavenged parts and put it all back together again. Some of the neural harnessing was missing, so the droid will never be complete unless I replace it entirely."

"You mean you reprogrammed it?" he actually sounded sort of impressed.

You rolled your shoulders again. "Yeah, suppose so. Wasn't too hard. Lots of trial and error... and caf." And time. During the wet season you had more time on your hands and so typically that's when you'd spend it on projects.

"How'd you learn how to do that? Droids are complicated pieces of tech."

"My dad taught me. He was an engineer, could run this whole place without even trying. Always knew how to fix everything," you gave a sad chuckle at the thought of your parents. You missed them so much. Maybe if they hadn't passed you wouldn't be half as lonely and feeling as if there was something missing in your life. "Studied on... Coruscant, I think? Before the war broke out. Round 20BBY he came out here with my mom and I because they wanted to avoid the fighting."

"And he taught you everything he knew," Paz assumed.

"Oh, well, I mean, probably not everything. He probably would have found a way to fix 6PO completely."

"Do you mind if I ask what happened?"

The corner of your mouth quirked involuntarily and you stared down at the pan as you began sautéing the cut up tubulars. "We get a wet season here every standard year. The canyons are vast, mostly stone, and not porous. My mother was sick, so they had to make a visit to the city which is a 2 day trip on bike. Usually, we don't leave during the wet season. Too dangerous. But mom's condition wasn't improving and so my father decided the risk was worth it.

"In order to get to the city, you have to go through the canyons. This time of year, no big deal, but during the wet season? Can start raining without warning and when it does, the crevasses act as funnels, diverting water to the lowest point, which... you're catching my drift, right?" You glance up, not particularly fond of explaining how nature worked around here, especially when it had taken your parents from you.

"Flash floods?"

"Mm," you began cracking the eggs. "Can't outrun a flash flood. Not on a speeder bike. They drowned. So-" you drew in a sharp breath. You had rationalized this several times over. Never really talked about it, but it didn't make you cry anymore. This planet had been good to you. Better than most people could hope for when they settled on a farm. You knew that you were lucky because of that and you couldn't resent the planet even if it took your parents from you. "The Jawas found them a little while after that. They know us, we trade with them -- I still do -- and they brought my parents back for me. Despite what people say about them, they didn't ask me for payment."

"I'm sorry... was that six years ago?"

"Mhm," you confirmed, wiping your hands off and picking up a few eggs, cracking them over your massiff's eagerly waiting mouth. "Not your fault. Might be safe from raiders and looters, but it's a harsh unforgiving landscape. Sometimes you get too comfortable and forget about that. My dad knew the risks when he took my mother. They lived a good life, just wish they didn't have to go that way." You wish you hadn't been left alone.

"Where's the closest neighbor aside from the Jawas?"

"Hundreds of miles," now you were plating the food and grabbing mugs for the caf. "The canyons are the best place to set up moisture farms. The deserts soak up all the water from the wet seasons, but due to the stone around here, it's a lot easier for moisture to be trapped in the vaporators. However, they're remote and a lot of the plateaus are too dangerous to set up on because the foundation of stone is likely to crumble. Only about three farms in all of the canyons and this is one of them. We're the highest producers of water on the planet, especially during the wet season. 'Bout the only time I see starships since the city will come and pick it up."

You slapped Jumbles on the nose as he leaned over the counter toward one of the freshly assembled breakfasts, causing him to whine. "Oh shut it you baby," you hadn't even hit him that hard, just a little boop on the nose and he was pretending you'd wailed into him. "Drama queen."

You brought Paz's food over for him and went to grab your own. "I can go outside. A few things I can start on before we head out."

"Sit down and eat first," he invited, which confused you, because how were the both of you going to eat with the whole helmet situation. "If you sit at the counter with your back to me, it'll be fine."

Oh, well that went against what he said about only removing his helmet when he was alone. But... that also meant he trusted you. How many opportunities did you have to remove his helmet? The first day you probably could have if you weren't terrified of being shot. Until you'd gotten to know Paz better, he had been the big scary Mandalorian and not the patient and easygoing one you knew now. "Are you certain? I mean, it's not a big deal. I eat on the go all the time," you object kindly, not wishing for him to feel obligated to have you in your own kitchen.

"Sit," he insisted.

"Well, I mean-" you grabbed a chair, mostly talking to yourself when you muttered those words and pulled it up to the counter. Jumbles was drooling on your leg, looking at you as if you hung the stars, which admittedly -- was quite cute except for the fact that you knew he just wanted your leftovers.

"Where'd you get a massiff?" There was a click and a hiss, the helmet disengaging and being set on the table. You tried not to think about how easy it would be to turn around and finally get a look at him, focusing on your cup of caf instead.

"Kind of just... found him," you reveal, thinking about the day you'd stood toe to toe with the beast, your arms full of scrap metal, wondering if you were going to have to use the bacta shot after getting munched on by the creature. "Thought he was gonna try and eat me."

"It's wild?" Paz's voice was different, unmodulated. There was still the same warmth you were used to, but the lack of the radio static and translation from human to droid made your skin hot, little lances of static playing down your spine as the deep bass in its full glory.

"Uuuuh," you almost forget that you're eating, your egg falling off the fork and onto your lap. Jumbles gobbles it up before you even think about grabbing it. "Jee-uh-yeah. Started feeding him scraps, probably shouldn't have done that, and then he kinda just started listening to me. I read that on Tatooine Tusken Raiders keep them as hounds, so I thought that maybe they're just partial to bonding with sentient beings."

Honestly, you'd always been good with animals. An uncanny, unnatural, totally unexplainable ability you'd possessed since you were a kid and ran into a wild dewback and nearly pissed yourself. Instead of swallowing you whole, the dewback had palmed your hand and then trotted off. The canyons were host to a plethora of fauna, many of which were quite dangerous. Having Jumbles had actually saved your skin more often than not, as the canine was keen on keeping his source of food around.

"When they're raised from pups they are," Paz informed you.

"Oooh. Well, I found Jumbles when he was an adult," you gave the dope a fond pat on the head. He leaned into your gloved grasp and harrumphed contentedly. "Maybe he was already trained and got lost." Yeah, that sounded more logical than your weird animal whispering abilities. "He's been good. If not for him, I don't think I would have found you. He's the one who led me over to your starship." And that's when you realized something. "H-hey, Jumbles is living and your helmet-"

"I'm not worried about a massiff seeing me," Paz chuckled. "I'm not going to shoot your dog."

"I-I didn't say you were," you stammer, heart fluttering a little bit as you gripped one of the massiff's spines to comfort yourself. He could very easily shoot your dog. Did he want to shoot your dog? You didn’t think so, but you weren’t keen on losing him. "Just you said no living thing and then you'd only take your helmet off alone..."

"No living sentient thing," he corrected, his silverware clattering before the helmet clicked back into place. A tiny wave of disappointment washed off you, almost as if you were expecting to get a little more time with his raw unfiltered voice. "Thank you for breakfast. Good as always."

You blushed slightly at the compliment. It was just simple food, hearty enough to keep you going throughout the day. Standing up, you nearly whirled into the Mandalorian's chest as you went to retrieve his things for him. Catching yourself before you did, you offered an apologetic smile before frisking the plate from him and placing it in the sink for later. It was a sonic sink, you were very careful about how water was used. Only for food and growing plants.

Out by the front door you grabbed your outing belt, which had your blaster and a set of tools that you'd been using. Picking up the sack beside it, laden with a few canteens, ration bars, and holobooks you glanced back at Paz. He still didn't have his armor on, but he did adorn his belt with a vibro-blade and pistol. "C'mon," you told him, offering a small wave before striding out the front door and into the crisp, sunny morning.

Drinking in a deep breath of dry air, you gave a dizzying and pleased smile before beginning to talk. "Now, I told you that I borrowed your speeder bike to get us back up here. There was a bit of damage to it since it took a beating during the crash. Most superficial, which I managed to get the dings out of the metal and replace the exhausts which were nearly crushed. Probably needs a new paint job, but I didn't have any paint laying around," you explained, bringing him over to the bike. You'd doted a bit of time on it, because you knew bikes and it was easy for you to fix. Plus it was nicer than the one you had on the farm, so you'd been using it to go back and forth between the ranch and his starship.

Paz's helmet was craned down as he gave the bike a one over and your original pride began to fizzle out with each beat of silence. Finally, "You did a really good job. It... didn't take up too much of your time, did it?"

"Hm? Oh no, not at all. Bikes are easy, fixed plenty of bikes in much worse condition than this," you gave it a fond pat, relief flooding you that he wasn't upset that you'd fiddled with it. "But this isn't what I wanted to show you," you climbed on. "Hop on!"

Paz chuckled at your overexuberance, the way the bike looked much too big for someone of your stature. Afterall, it was his bike and so he'd gotten one that would fit his physique. Your arms were stretched upward to meet the accelerators and it was quite comical from the dopey, excited smile on your face to the way your legs barely reached the stirrups. He sat on behind you, edging up comfortably so that his thighs framed you.

"Might wanna hang on," you warned mischievously.

"What, this isn't going to be a leisurely ride?"

"The canyons look much the same when boxed in. Trust me, just hang on," you told him, feeling your cheeks roll was heated pleasure as strong arms encircled you and his pelvis pressed tighter to your backside. Oh, that felt really good, almost enough that you could lean back into his strong embrace and relax as you started this ride. But... No. You chased away the devious thoughts and tried not to fixate on the sturdy Mandalorian behind you as you revved the engine. It purred like a loth-cat, humming deliciously before you kicked off and started whistling down the hill and into the chasm that led into the canyons.

He wasn't expecting how quickly the two of you rocketed off. Arms tensing around you to prevent himself from sliding right off as gravity snared him, he let out a breathy laugh. "You weren't kidding."

"Tried to warn you," you laughed at him, shouting over the din of the motors that echoed against the canyon walls. Bowing your head ever so much, you went up another gear and stuck the wide turn. He grabbed on again, his chest now flush to your back as you dared to accelerate again.

"Where-" his voice was breathless in your ear. "Where did you learn how to drive like this?"

"Mom," you grin. "Dad was the engineer. Mom was the podracer."

"Kriff!" he cursed as you hooked the bike, reversed the thrusters, and then sputtered a sharp turn that should not have been possible except for the trick maneuver. During down time and on your long journeys to the city, you'd picked up a thing or two from your mother. Speeder bikes were easy compared to podracers, she'd tell you. Small, streamline, and capable of quite a few tricks if you understood the inertia, gravity, and capabilities of the machine you were on. Passing the signs out for the Jawas, you curved the halt, brakes slamming as the sideways turn kicked up clay sand and dust. He was still clinging to you even after you'd stopped.

"Did I frighten the big Mandalorian?" you teased, his vice grip finally relenting after taking a moment to realize that you stopped.

Paz's muscles were vibrating from the adrenaline filling him from helmet to boot from the ride. The last thing he'd been expecting from you, the little farmhand mechanic, were daring turns and hiking the bike up to full speed without as much of an ounce of panic as you tried to take a 90 degree turn. Even Paz wasn't as gutsy with a bike to attempt what you had done, but you'd stuck the turn gloriously and were laughing at him now. He hadn't realized that he could like you more, but you were filled with pleasant little surprises.

"Can you podrace too?" he countered as he let you go and you hopped down, springy, unaffected and brimming with joy. Your hair was scattered a bit, a few curls puffing loose from your scrunchie.

"Never tried, but can't be too difficult," you reply. Not arrogance or mock confidence, just... the comprehension of someone who knew a lot about machines and how they worked. "Now, come take a look. Gotta talk to you about somethings-" you padded away, leaving Paz to dismount and trail after you.

The ship still had a hole in the hull, landing gear squashed, but the supply crates had been moved back inside. For something that had crash landed, Paz was astonished how intact it appeared. The reason for his confusion was soon explained as you brought him inside and he saw that wires had been soldered off and repairs had been made.

"So, I've been heading out here when I can to make sure the thing didn't leak its fuel lines everywhere," you started, gesturing to the neatly arranged containers. "Now, I'm not a starship mechanic, but I have a few old holobooks and the manual that was laying around in here. I read up on them and was able to figure out that the fuel line was cut -- managed to fix that -- and the engines were running at 10% capacity after debris got sucked in. That's how the thing didn't explode on impact, the thrusters were still working enough that it padded your landing.

"Landing gear is shot. I don't have any lifts strong enough to hoist the ship up or the proper caliber of steel to fix the hull. I got the engines to bout 50%, so theoretically that should get you to the spaceport on the other side of the planet. Gonna be crunchy, don't know what's hiding underneath here. So you've got a few options -- try your best to get to the spaceport and the pay for repairs there, you can try to get off planet, though next planet over is Tatooine and you'd pay an arm and a leg for shoddy repairs, or we can try trading with the Jawas. They've got their sandcrawler which might have the capability of picking your ship up, but won't be cheap. Even with my connections they're gonna want something good."

Paz was flabbergasted and at a loss for words as he looked at the work you'd done on top of the farm, on top of taking care of him, and how candid you were about what solutions he had going forward. "How did you have the time to do all this?" he asked.

"Hm?" you were looking over at a few wires that needed to be routed properly. "Uh, lots and lots of caf."

No wonder you had passed out for over 16 hours yesterday. Additionally, you'd read dry holobooks on starships and for what? To help him? At this point he knew that you weren't expecting anything out of it. He'd not been to a lot of backwater planets, but he was beginning to realize that people like you were more common in these quiet remote locations, just happy to be helping. Why that nearly broke him right there, he couldn't say, but he was absolutely moved by your selfless compassion that you didn't even really acknowledge, because it was all so natural to you. A little gem in the canyons, hiding up on your plateau farming water.

"What do I owe you? Repairs like this cost a lot... you've saved me a lot of credits, Tranyc."

You were a little distracted, admittedly, your eyes finding the problems you hadn't remedied yet. "Owe me?" you repeated before finally looking back toward the visor. "You're my guest. Don't worry about it. Consider it a little bit of desert hospitality. There's still some work I need to do, haven't gotten round to it, but I figured you'd want to see your ship."

He didn't owe anything. How didn't he owe anything? Paz was shell shocked as you turned away, removing a set of pliers from your tool belt as you started working on the frayed wires that were getting on your nerves. People always wanted something, no matter how minute or simple it was and yet... You were fiddling along, pleased as a womp rat in sand you continued to chug along as if he weren't even there. And you'd learned how to do this in weeks? Taught yourself how to do it? Your parents had to have been smart and if your father studied at university on Coruscant -- you might've been modest about it, but that meant he'd imparted the same years of study into you while you grew up.

He knew how to make baseline repairs, how to weld, and keep the ship from falling apart. What you were doing -- he had no idea how to do. Truthfully, the gunship needed a lot of work before it was going to be good enough to leave the planet and you were correct -- parts were needed. Sitting on a storage crate, he placed his helmet in his palm and rubbed his aching ribs, trying to think of which path would be the best option. Going to the spaceport meant that he'd leave you behind. He also didn't know how much repairs were going to cost on this planet. Flying to Tatooine was just a bad decision all around, who knew if the ship could handle it. Then trading with Jawas... It would keep him around you for a bit longer and you knew the Jawas. He was bound to have something that they wanted aboard the Kote. He could also use a talented mechanic, but somehow doubted that you'd be willing to part with your farm.

The way you'd talked about your home, you were very proud of it and you loved the landscape. But still... all alone... he didn't like the thought of that. Even if this planet was relatively safe, what if the Jawas found your body in the canyon ravines?

He had been lost to his thoughts as you worked, the ship heating up in the midday sun. You'd flipped down the straps of your coveralls to work and that's when he noticed. A thin sheen of sweat decorated your arms, a few curls sticking to your face as you hunched over the controls for his cryo chamber. But that wasn't what attracted his attention. No, it was the swell of your breasts beneath the fitted shirt you wore, the perky mounds that were well sized for your slender form. The fabric left little to the imagination, mostly because you weren't wearing a bra. Why would you? You lived on your own and bras were awful, constricting things that made you even clammier on hot days. Plus they were stupidly expensive.

The coveralls usually kept them hidden, but with the thick panel of fabric cast down, Paz was staring. He'd been distracted by your lower half yesterday, but not his fixation was on the top. How could you look so good in just a tight fitting shirt that didn't betray any cleavage? He estimated that each would be more than a handful for him, the nipples pressing through the fabric and you didn't notice, completely unaware of the lack of decorum because you were a farmer and those sort of things probably didn't pop into your mind. Which was why he felt a tiny bit ashamed watching you, eying you from the protective mask of his helmet. Would you want him to touch you again? You had told him that you'd been getting off to him, but perhaps that was in the moment when he'd caught you.

Neither of you had broached the subject this morning, but nor were you being incredibly demure or shy. You were just being normal.

"Wanna toss me a canteen from in there?" you asked, pointing to the bag you'd dumped by the hole in the hull.

Paz tore his eyes away, glancing down, retrieving the requested item. Tossing it to you, you caught it and upcapped it, taking a few generous gulps and spilling some on yourself. He gritted his teeth as you wiped your mouth, the soft plush lips having been locked around the rim, the water seeping into your shirt. Your shirt. Dank farrik. Now he was staring again, hopelessly pressing his palms together as he tried to keep it together. Stars, he wanted more of you than just the bit of pleasure he'd brought yesterday, but it wasn't his place to take it. You'd already gone above and beyond in assisting him and so he couldn't just ask you to sleep with him, no matter how much he wanted it. That felt... wrong. Like a dirty, awful thing to request after he'd come to like you -- only utilizing you for your body in the end and not the company he'd grown fond of.

"Did you think about what you're gonna do?" you ask him, drawing his visor back up to you.

"The Jawas--" his voice was kinda hoarse, which made you tilt your head. "Might have something on here that they'd like."

A smile unfurled on your face, because secretly you'd been praying that he'd choose that option. Just stealing more time with the Mandalorian, despite the fact that he was stranded. You didn't want him to leave, but it was going to happen eventually, just like it did with everyone else who came here. Everyone left. Everyone but you and the animals. You were pretty sure you were gonna cry like a baby when the Mandalorian finally departed. "I can send 'em a transmission tonight. Probably will take them the better part of a day to get here, but they'll come."

"Thank you again," Paz insisted, but you brushed it off with a silly and overly dramatic hand wave.

"There's gotta be some kindness in this galaxy. 'Else it'd be a sad, miserable, hopeless place," you counter, springing back to your feet, dusting your gloves off animatedly. "Let's finish up in here and then head back. Got some work I have to do on the farm too."

Sonic showers weren't the best, but they were all that you knew. Aside from when the rain would billet down during the wet seasons, you didn't know what an actual water shower felt like. Either way, you needed to get the sweat and grime off of you by the end of each day, so you trotted out with your pajamas on and into the Mandalorian. You'd already contacted the Jawas and were getting ready to tuck in for the night when he caught you. "Oof, sorry... I-I didn't hurt your ribs did I?" Your eyes flitted to where his injury was immediately.

"I'm fine," he assured you, large hands butterflied against your sides where he'd caught you from doing too much damage by trolloping right into his chest. Big. His hands were big. So large that they covered your ribs entirely when gripping your sides. They lingered, the skin beneath growing hot and beginning to tingle. Then he removed them, as if he were worried about overstaying his welcome.

Your skin sighed where he released and you glanced up chewing your lip. "Um..." uncertain -- you didn't know where this was going, but why the hell not. What did you have to lose? He was stuck here until his ship was going to be fixed. "Yesterday--"

"I'm sorry, I really shouldn't have done that," Paz interrupted, launching your heart up into your throat.

"Wha-no, I liked it," you assured him, feeling courageous enough to take his hands in yours. Maker, you looked like a child, holding those large calloused palms in yours. "I... wouldn't mind more. I-i-if that's what you want, of course," you sputtered, cheeks sweltering and ears about to rocket off from the intense embarrassment you felt in suggesting such a thing. It'd been easier before. You could see the faces of your guests, gauge what they were thinking, see the lust in their eyes that you could give right back. They'd never stayed this long, never gotten to know you this well, and... you didn't want to make him uncomfortable because you felt a little horny with him around. But Maker, how was that not possible? He was an absolute unit, pure muscle, easy conversation, and had a voice that shattered your resolve like an earthquake.

"Would I want more?" he repeated slowly and your stomach sunk into the abyss, blood draining from your face. The leap of faith had been in vain and instead of swan diving into water, you'd hit stone. And then suddenly his hands were on your chest, driving the air from your in uncontrolled gasps as he squeezed. "Maker--" he cursed, vocoder breaking up as you almost melted on the spot. "So... you're so mesh'la. Had my eyes on you all day while you were working. You're such... a distraction."

He wasn't rough, despite holding onto your breasts, moving carefully over the fabric as he caressed you. In the past, your chest had been a fixation of other lovers because you were well endowed and you were accustomed to rough squeezing to the point where it was painful. It was almost as if most men just wanted to push them until they popped or just liked the pillowy sensation of squeezing and didn't care much for how it felt for you. They were bloody sensitive and you didn't appreciate them being manhandled -- except for right now, right now was good. Better than good in fact.

"Distraction? I'm the one doing all the work," you mumbled, leaning into his touch as he palmed you and rubbed circles over your breasts, the nipples stiffening beneath the fabric and dimpling it. "While you just... just sit there."

"I'm still hurt," he didn't sound very convincing, maybe that wasn't the point.

"Too hurt to be doing anything too... arduous," you pointed out, humming as he gave another gentle squeeze. "Last night did you-- I sort of just--" passed out. Say it. You passed out and left him there with an erection. That couldn't have been too pleasant. To top it off with a cherry, he'd put you to bed with clothes on.

"I took care of things, mesh'la. You left me with some... good visuals," his thumb was circling your nipple, still separated by your shirt, the careful flicking making you shudder. Your entire body was reacting, legs weak and the same radiating heat vibrating between your thighs.

"Bu-ut it couldn't have been that great. N-not like..." you fell off, head lolling slightly as his hands flipped the hem of your shirt and began cruising the plane of your tummy, scratching its way to your breast. A hot palm met skin, a low moan echoing as he grasped you firmly, but not too hard.

"Stars, you're so soft," he murmured, pushing the shirt up -- higher and higher until your breasts were revealed to the air. "Maker, look at you."

The praise made your thighs clench together. They didn't usually talk. Not as much as Paz was, which was somewhat ironic considering he had a helmet on and was a mysterious Mandalorian and yet he filled your ears up as he roamed you. No, it was all typically rushed, frenzied, and to sate both parties. Honestly, the sate part was just the rutting, having to take your own hands to your clit while your past lovers plowed into you. There was no copious foreplay aside from a little making out and breast squeezing and while they'd called you pretty, it never really felt the same as the way as Paz's voice. The way in which he was breathy, as if he couldn't believe his eyes, and that you'd been put on the planet delicately by the Maker himself. It made your heart rush, galloping forward, and it made you want him more.

"Le-let me," you found your hands, having been savoring his exploring before brushing the hem of his trousers. You had felt him, sort of, yesterday but you didn't actually know what was beneath the belt. From how tall and broad he was, you had an assumption of what was there. "Y-you're still hurt, s-so..." pitifully tinny, your voice was sliding away as you offered to give him something in exchange for what he'd done for you.

"Mesh'la... I-you have already done so much-" he protested.

"But yesterday--" you were whining now, hand coasting down more until you cupped his groin, feeling his length twitch. He was already hard. You weren't even undressed and he was already rock solid. "It'll feel better this way."

"Is... is that what you want?"

You nod, waiting for permission.

He couldn't say no. Not while your palm was between his legs and you were staring up at him with big, round, imploring eyes. In fact, he didn't think he could possibly deny you anything, removing his hands, the shirt falling back down over your spectacular chest. "I-Yes," he confirmed, drawing a shaking breath which made his ribs ache.

You undid the belt buckle, hands scrambling slightly from nerves before undoing the buttons. Coming down on your knees didn't really work, there was still too much of a height difference, forcing you to half-crouch as your fingers slipped beneath the fabric of his boxes and untucked his manhood. Now it was your turn to be wordless. You had expected it, but expecting and witnessing were two very different things. He was massive, just the sight of him making your core twitch painfully, imagining trying to accommodate him, doubting that he'd even be able to fully sheath himself in you without pushing into your tummy. If he could even get in.

Ok, so when you had offered to do this you thought he would fit in your mouth. Doubt welled in your stomach and he must have noticed as you stared down his cock, brushing a hand over your loose hair. "You don't have to-" he soothed. But the challenge spurned you on, undaunted and a little over zealous to be honest.

"You'll tell me... what you like?" you had just flattened your tongue against the weeping head of his cock, licking like a kitten, lathing him before you'd attempt to take more.

His thighs shook and he gave a terse nod.

You weren't extremely experienced in this field. Just enough that you knew now not to bite someone. But this wasn't just 'someone'. You liked Paz a lot and wanted it to feel good for him. To chase away the pain in his chest and to show how much you appreciated what he'd done for you. Guys liked blowjobs, didn't they? That's why they were requested so much, you just assumed that he'd like it all the same, and honestly you wanted to become more intimate with his cock after feeling it pressed beneath your leg.

You ran your tongue along his shaft, trailing back around before leaving saliva. Your hand smoothed the wetness over him, pumping a few times over his length to help lubricate him. Then you made your first attempt, tongue over your lips as you pushed his girth into the damp chasm of your mouth. He groaned, fingers tightening in your hair, which gave you the courage to take him deeper. The head of his cock met the resistance of the back of your throat and you gagged, eyes watering and jaw aching. "Relax, mesh'la. Relax your throat-" he managed gently through tight breaths.

Easier said than done, forgetting to breathe, your throat clenching, you were forced to pull away for a moment.

Spittle trailed down your plush lips, cheeks flushed wildly as you considered your next approach. You were a sight for sore eyes, Paz's own glued to you as you gasped for air. You'd bitten off more than you could chew, but he admired your undaunted commitment as you sank back onto him and closed your eyes, clutching onto his leg for balance. This time, you were able to take his guidance better, breathing through your nose before easing your throat. Your mouth was small, tight, and damp. With the accommodation of the back of your throat, Paz's hips bucked and a strangled moan crackled through the modulator.

"G-good. Fuck -- so good, mesh'la," he praised, beginning to move in tandem with you, fucking deeply into your throat. Your face was hot and wet, tears leaking out from your eyes at the sensation of your throat being stretched. The noises were wet and sloppy, punctuated by sharp hums as you tried to do well, to do what he wanted, to keep going -- but Maker, it hurt. Your attention was fixated completely on pleasing him, forgetting entirely about your own climbing heat, just trying not to clench your throat or forget to breathe through your nose. Then you dared it, reaching up and grabbing his balls, massaging them in your palm gently as he pushed into you. "Ahh- oh, fuck-- I'm going to cum. Do you want me to--"

You managed the smallest nod, squeezing him tighter as his thrusts rocked you, shattering almost all your resolve as you gagged. Ropes of cum splattered in the back of your throat, your lips suctioning to him as he stuttered to a halt, palm on the back of your head. His skin was like velvet on your tongue, slightly salty, but smooth and soft. Lavishing the last drops from his cock like precious water from the desert. In fact, it was more precious than water, more rare.

"Mesh'la... ohh," he keened softly, his hand spreading over your hair, petting you, brushing the curls from your face - which was wet with spilled tears, saliva, and a little cum. Releasing him from your sweet mouth, he brushed the white droplets from the corner of your lips, which you sucked off after it being offered. "W-what did I do?"

You tilted your head in confusion.

"What did I do to deserve you?"

You tried to talk, but your voice crackled in the back of your throat, so hoarse and quiet that you simply shut your mouth and blinked. Oh fuck. Had he broken your vocal chords? Panic began to seize you and you clutched his leg and offered a very broken, "UhhhmmMm."

He bent down, cupping your face, holding it between his palms as he took a good look at you. "I was a little too rough, wasn't I?"

"S'okay," fuck that hurt. Hurt to talk. Least you still had a voice.

"What do you want? Do you want me to--" His helmet was so close, almost brushing your nose as he looked at you. For a brief moment, you felt as if you were gazing into his eyes. What color were they? Brown? Green? Hazel? Maybe blue?

You shook your head and gave him a weary smile. That had literally taken everything out of you and you just wanted a cold glass of water and to curl up in bed. "Water. Sleep?..." you had to swallow again, struggling to get the words out. "W-with you?"

"Just... that?"

Oh no, had you chosen wrong? Did he really want to play with you? Honestly, you were good. Just making him finish had been enough for you. Your legs and throat ached, it had been a long day. You offered a dejected nod. No one ever really cuddled with you and you assumed that he'd be warm, comfortable, and feel like a blanket of protection. You wanted to feel that, even if only just once. Having sex wasn't as important as this to you. Sure, sex with him would probably be amazing, but you didn't want to overexert him because you were being greedy. Despite getting it infrequently, you'd never gotten a good cuddle. Not since you were a little girl and curled up in your parents' arms.

"Ok, ok, mesh'la," he agreed, smoothing your hair again before pushing his helmet to your brow. The gesture lit your cheeks up and felt... strangely intimate. Cool beskar kissing your sweating skin, chasing away the sweltering blush and just a thin layer between you and the Mandalorian. It felt like a kiss, but it wasn't. So gentle and tender that you let it linger and closed your eyes. "C'mon, it's been a long day," he muttered, gripping you beneath your elbow and guiding you to your feet. Your bed was just a few paces away and you were already dressed for it.

Who would have thought that a Mandalorian could be this... kind? From all the stories you'd heard, you had half-expected him to be a broody tin can that barely offered you the time of day. But there was a man underneath, a man who had desires, who had feelings, and who could be delicate. He wasn't all blasterfire, beskar, and war -- he was still a man.

He put you into bed, leaving the room for a moment to get a glass of water. You smiled at his return, accepting the offered water, and gulping it down. Your throat ailed and your jaw was already beginning to groan in protest. But the water helped. Putting it down on the nightstand, the Mandalorian removed his boots and climbed into bed with you, just trousers and an undershirt. Offering an open arm, his impressive bicep being revealed from beneath the short sleeve of his shirt.

You snuggled forward, heart pounding solidly in your ears as you tucked into his side. Maker, you loved this, the way his arm coiled around you, planting against the small of your back before tugging you in tightly. It wasn't as if you didn't feel safe in your home, you always did, but this was different. You trembled slightly because you'd yearned for this proximity, not just a rush of passion, but what came after and the security of him. From the strength of his muscles, to heat of his skin to yours, and the smell of him so close. This is what had been missing. The last piece to the puzzle that was home, the rut in your belly and soul curling pleasantly as you melted into him. Please never end. But you knew morning would come and one day he'd have to leave like everyone else. And you knew that day would be soul shattering. Because once again, you'd be alone.

#paz vizla x you #paz vizsla x reader #paz vizsla x you #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian fanfiction #paz vizsla smut #smut with plot #smut with feelings #star-burned

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ibijau · 3 years

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I believe you can bring this trashfire to life. 22 and 21 for Xuanwu/Jingy 😉

1. I treated this way too seriously 2. congrats on winning the ‘crackiest ship prompt I’ve received’ award 3. I picked the “Bandaging them up, scolding them for getting themselves hurt” prompt but tbh it’s barely there

There is pain, worse than anything that it has ever known, and then there is darkness and bone deep cold.

There isn’t death though.

It is too old to die so easily.

When it regains some sort of consciousness, it is weak. Weaker than it has been in many, many years. It hasn’t been so weak since it started cultivating. The energy it carefully accumulated through eating other creatures has been almost depleted to keep it alive, just as it was finally getting strong enough to consider taking a human shape. It will have to wait a little more.

That’s not a problem.

It is patient.

It is also hungry.

Its current form, massive and deadly, is a waste of energy, so one of the first things it does, upon waking up, is to make itself smaller. It can move faster like this, and prey on small creatures until it finds a good place to cultivate. Then, when it has strength again, it will devour humans once more, until it can take their shape and be one step closer to immortality and true power and then… then it will be untouchable.

Like most things, it fears death.

Having come too close to it, it fears it more than ever.

Smaller and nimbler it escapes the cave that had become its prison without issue, and sets out to feed itself. The mountains around its cave become bloodied and fearful, as they should be. And yet, there isn’t much to eat there. Mice, rabbits, a fox here and there. There are boars too, but it dares not attack them yet, not until it knows it is strong enough for it.

After some months, it feels confident enough.

It shouldn’t have.

The boars in these mountains are led by a demon, one stronger and older than him, protecting its herd from all enemies. The demon boar lunges upon it as soon as it approaches one of the sows, and thus starts a duel between them. For ten days and ten nights, it fights the demon boar, refusing to admit defeat. There can be no defeat. Not when the two humans weakened it so much in that cave, not when the demon boar has what they lacked: the power to truly kill it.

Day after day, night after night, the two bite and stomp and growl, disturbing the mountains around them, pursuing each other even into the lands that humans occupy.

This, it turns out, is what saves it.

Because they are disturbed, the humans take arms and join the fight. Figures in white that bear swords attack them. The demon board, proud and ancient, fights right back, outraged that mere mortals dare to stand against its power. While it is occupied with these new opponents, the old one flees to lick its wounds.

It cannot go very far, not in the state it is in. All it can do is make itself smaller still, to save energy, and hide under a fallen tree to bide its time. Sooner or later, the smell of its blood will attract insects, or perhaps some mice if it is lucky. A fox even, who knows. It is sure to attract something, and then it will feast, and then it will heal. This is only a minor setback. It doesn’t change its plans in the least.

All it means is that someday, when it is back to its full strength, it will challenge the demon boar again and devour it.

It will not lose again.

That plan is ruined when it is found by something rather bigger than a fox. Something more dangerous as well.

A few hours after escaping the demon boar, it is found by a human.

Small as it currently is, it can still tell that the human isn't very big for one of its kind. Its energy is wild and uncontrolled too, meaning it must still be young. If it had any strength left, it would devour that child. Even in its diminished state, it considers it. Taking on its true shape would be exhausting, but it might be worth the risk.

Before it can get started on that, the child laughs and lifts it up to look at it.

"You're a funny turtle!" it giggles. "Oh ! Your neck is so long!"

Furious at being handled like this, it tries to bite the human. To its surprise, the child has quick reflexes and grabs it by the base of its neck before its teeth can sink into flesh.

"Oh, you have big teeth. I didn't even know turtles had teeth. Maybe you're a special turtle? But you also look a bit like a snake…"

It is not a turtle, and it is not a snake. It is what it is, and does not need a name, though it knows fearful humans once gave it one.

"You really are funny," the child says. "I'm going to keep you with me until a-niang and a-die come back. They'll know what you are. A-niang knows everything."

It struggles, trying to escape, but the child holds on.

"It's okay, you don't have to be scared," the child says. "You don't have a lot of strength, but it's fine, I'll protect you and we're going to be friends. I'll take you home, and I'll find a secret place to keep you, and it'll be great."

Satisfied with that decision, the child walks away from the place where it hid, taking it with him.

As hours pass, it becomes resigned to its situation, and helplessly listen to the child's chatter.

He is called Lan Jingyi. He is learning cultivation in a great sect. His parents and him were on their way home after visiting his maternal grandparents for the new year, but they stumbled upon some problems. Jingyi's parents told him to hide while they took care of some disturbances, and will return when things are safe again. After a while Jingyi got bored, and started to walk around looking for something to do.

It has been a long, long while since it has spent so much time in the company of a creature without fighting to kill. This child talks too much, but he bears it no ill will, which is an odd feeling. In fact, Jingyi, upon noticing on its body the marks of its fight with the demon boar, takes something greasy from a pouch he carries, and applies it to the wounds.

The grease smells of grass and flowers, but the taste of it is unpleasant.

“Don’t eat that, it’s for healing!” Jingyi scolds it. “Also, you should be more careful. How did you get all hurt like that? You shouldn’t pick fights, you know. A-niang says, don’t fight others if you can’t win.”

It hisses at the child. It would have won that fight, if those humans had not weakened it.

"When we go home, I'll ask Hanguang-jun to look at you," Jingyi announces. "He knows about rabbits, and turtles can't be too different. Then we’ll heal you, and find you a nice place to stay and… and if you’re not in the house, you’re not a pet, so it’s fine. Sizhui says that’s why the rabbits are allowed.”

It tries, again, to bite the child, but is stopped. Its indignation and anger remain. It does not like being compared to rabbits, which are mere prey. It is a hunter, a dangerous killer, a king among beasts. It is a triumphant being that none can harm… or it was, once. It will be so again, once it recovers.

“It’s getting kind of dark, isn’t it?” Jingyi remarks, his voice trembling slightly. “I think… I think we should have dinner, and maybe find a place to stop and continue waiting for a-niang and a-die. I bet you’re hungry too, right?”

It is, of course, famished. It worries for a brief moment that the child will attempt to eat it. It would do that, if it only had the strength, or if this were a weaker child, but Jingyi has shown already he would be no easy prey in spite of his youth. If Jingyi attacks it and tries to eat it…

But this does not happen. Instead, from the little pouch at his side, Jingyi now produces a few round and pale balls. Their fragrant smell hits its nose with enough strength to make it dizzy. There is meat in there, among other things.

Jingyi sits on the forest ground, very mindful of his posture and his clothes, and puts the creature next to him. He takes one of the balls for himself, and puts the other on the ground.

“I hope it’s okay that it’ll get a bit dirty. A-niang says I can’t eat things that have fallen in the dirt, but since you’re a turtle I guess that’s fine.”

It does not mind the dirt. That’s a part of feeding.

It is, however, confused by the offering of food. It knows that gods are gifted sacrifices, but this seems different. Jingyi does not know it is not an ordinary beast, so he cannot be trying to appease it, or to demand favours from it. So why waste food on another being? It has never seen such a thing. Even before it began cultivating, its species was a solitary one, born from eggs that hatched alone, and then never collaborated with its own kind save for the brief necessities of reproduction. Generosity is a foreign concept for it, and so this makes it suspicious.

Compared to hunger, suspicion doesn’t hold much power.

The fight with the demon boar was a fierce one, it is now famished, and the pale ball smells delicious. Keeping an eye on Jingyi, it extends its neck and bites into the ball.

The texture of the ball is soft as snow, the taste richer than anything it has ever eaten. For a moment it stays frozen, shocked that such a sensation is even possible. This is nothing like devouring fresh flesh and bones. This is a delight so great that it wonders, for a moment, if it has ascended to immortality all of a sudden, because nothing in the mortal realm could be this pleasant.

That first bite is quickly swallowed, and it bites again, and again, until it reaches the filling inside that pale ball. Somehow, that manages to be even better. The meat there has been made tender and savoury, there are herbs and plants which compliments one another to perfection.

For the first time in its life, it is eating not merely out of hunger, but out of pleasure.

“I guess you like that,” Jingyi remarks, chewing on his own share. “I made them with a-niang, that’s why they have meat. A-die doesn’t eat meat, because of Lan rules, but a-niang says it’s stupid and meat buns bring more energy when we travel. Also, they’re tasty, right? Hm… but if you eat meat, I can’t show you to Hanguang-Jun. He wouldn’t like it if you tried to bite the rabbits. Maybe I can ask Zewu-Jun to look at you… but he follows the rules more so he’ll probably… ah! I forgot I’m not supposed to talk during meals!”

Jingyi looks down at the creature which is still devouring the bun with such pleasure it would weep, if its body were made for it.

“Hey, you won’t tell anyone that I talked during the meal, right? We’re friends, so you can’t tell anyone. Friends have to stick together.”

He sounds worried enough that the creature stops eating and looks at him. Friends, like generosity, is a foreign concept to it, though one it has witnessed a little more often. Groups of friends have attempted to defeat it in the past, and it has seen weak demons band together to better survive. It remembers, also, those two humans in the cave, working together with practiced ease, coming so close to killing it.

After some consideration, it nods at Jingyi. They can be friends, as thanks for the food.

Jingyi grins, and resumes chatting about many things and many people. Clearly, he enjoys talking, and so this rule of silence must be hard on him.

After a while, they both finish eating. The creature feels warm and content and sleepy, even more than it did so many years ago when it entered that cave, fat on the flesh of those it devoured. Since night has now fallen, Jingyi lays down on the ground, curled up on himself, the creature in his arm. He smells faintly of fear, but he is young and walked a lot, and so he still manages to fall asleep.

It starts nodding off as well, but is quickly awakened by the presence of others nearby.

This forest, at the foot of the mountain, is ancient, and has seen many tragedies. As such, of course there are many beings there that are attracted by the tasty energy of a young boy. As the night gets dark, ghosts and demons gather around Jingyi, sniffing him out, desperate to steal his energy and be fed for a little while. It is an isolated place, and they often go years without sustenance.

If not for the creature in Jingyi’s arms, the boy would be dead.

It is not, at the moment, very impressive to look at, but its aura is still that of a centuries old demon that has eaten more humans than those pitiful ghosts could ever dream of. It is powerful beyond anything they’ve ever seen, except maybe the boar demon that occasionally comes down from the mountain… and since they’ve learned to fear that boar demon, they know they probably need to fear this one as well.

Still, the sleeping boy tempts them. They beg for a taste, for a bite.

“Mine,” it hisses, snapping its weak jaws at those who dare come too close. “Mine!”

There is an alliance now between it and Jingyi. The child gave it food, and asked for friendship in return, which it agreed to. It is now bound to its word, bound to this child, and it will protect him.

“Mine.”

If even one of these ghosts and demons tried to attack, then it would probably be powerless to defend Jingyi. Even after the miracle that was eating that bun, it still hasn’t recovered its strength. The fight with the demon boar was just too much. Still it makes itself feel scary, hissing and snapping, growling threats at them all, until dawn arrives at last and they return into hiding.

It has protected Jingyi.

It has been a friend.

Jingyi wakes soon after the sun rises. He looks a little tired still, but that is no surprise with so many ghosts and demons gathered around him all night. He eats a bun, and once again gives another to the creature.

Agreeing to the friendship was a good choice. Even now that it is no longer starving, the bun still tastes as delicious. More so perhaps. It can eat more slowly this time, and fully appreciate the flavour.

It has only eaten about half of the bun, while listening to more of Jingyi’s chatter, when other voices start being heard, coming from far away. It braces itself, fearing it might be stronger demons, the sort that would dare to attack even in daylight, but next to it, Jingyi jumps to his feet and starts shouting back.

“A-niang! A-niang, I’m here! A-die, a-niang!”

The voices come closer. Jingyi gets more and more excited, jumping in place, but still careful not to trample his friend.

“They’re here, they found me!” he exclaims as he grabs his friend, and brings it toward the pouch at his side. “We’re going home! Just, be quiet, don’t make a fuss. If they see you they’ll make me leave you behind, so you have to be quiet.”

That is all the warning it gets before it is dumped into the pouch. It fears being in such a small space, but quickly realises that the inside of the pouch is bigger than the outside, and relaxes. When its half eaten bun joins it, it decides that this isn’t a bad arrangement, and simply goes back to eating. It protected Jingyi during the night, and now is being protected by him during the day. This seems like a good arrangement. Friendship is not a bad thing to have.

A long while seems to pass after that. It does not mind. Having eaten that second bun made it sleepy, and so it takes the chance to rest.

It awakes to the pouch being opened, and Jingyi’s hand seizing it with great gentleness. It is pleased to see its friend again, and shows it by not trying to bite him. Jingyi smiles at it, and a faint smell of fear disappears.

“Sorry to have left you in there so long, I just couldn’t find a moment,” Jingyi says with relief. “I’m glad you’re fine. And your wounds are better too! That’s great!”

“That’s a weird turtle,” another youthful voice says. “Maybe you really should show it to an adult.”

Next to where Jingyi is sitting in the grass, there is another boy. He is shorter, but seems older, and doesn’t appear too impressed with the creature, as if he can guess its true nature.

“They’ll tell me to put it in the wild,” Jingyi says. “And then maybe it’ll be eaten by… by… what eats turtles, anyway?”

“I think foxes,” the other boy guesses. “They eat everything, right?”

“I can’t let it be eaten by a fox!” Jingyi gasps with horror. “But here, it’ll be safe, and I can check on it, and bring it buns.”

“I don’t think turtles are supposed to eat buns.”

It is starting to dislike the second boy. Thankfully, Jingyi only laughs.

“This one does. That’s because a-niang’s buns are the best,” he explains, before turning his attention back to the creature. “Look, I found you such a nice place to live, okay? Isn’t this a nice little pond? I’m sure you’ll find stuff to eat, and anyway I’ll come visit often to give you buns. Do you like it?”

He puts down his friend near the edge of the water. This is, in fact, a very nice pond. The water is clear, showing fish inside. Nearby, mice can be heard. It will not lack for food. More importantly though, the pond has all the signs of being a good place to cultivate, better even than the one where it started its journey, centuries ago. It will be easy, here, to regain what was lost to the two humans and the demon boar. Agreeing to Jingyi’s friendship continues to be a great decision.

For the first time in its long life, it feels truly grateful. And so, to show it, it bows to Jingyi before entering the water. It hears the two boys gasp, Jingyi claiming this is proof his friend is no ordinary animal, the other boy worrying that maybe there is something wrong with the creature.

It ignores both of them, and swims around to map its new territory.

It is a very good pond, and already, it feels new energy flowing through it just from being in such an auspicious place. In a few months, it will easily be able to take again its old shape if it wishes, and then it could go on a rampage again.

It could.

It might not. If it kills humans, Jingyi might not bring it buns anymore.

Better, then, to cultivate in the slower method, to keep this smaller shape for now. With some luck and effort, in a few years, it will reach again the level it was at before those two humans harmed it, and then…

And then, it will be able to take a human shape at last.

It wonders how Jingyi will react to that.

It cannot wait to find out.

#xuanwu of slaughter #tortoise of slaughter #lan jingyi #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #it is very much pre-shipping #I don't know how old jingyi is but I'd say 8 max #ancient demonic abomination being bought of by a small act of kindness is a trope I love ok?#veraverorum #bad ship prompts #Xuanwu of friendship

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