#bitch you have gravity manipulation USE IT.

[lotus-pear]

HAPPY 114‼️‼️ take these silly doodles i did

#watching dazai have an aneurysm while chuuya yelled at him to stop bitching was so funny #also not him just sitting there while dazai used his broken bloody arms and legs to pull fyodor out😭 #bitch you have gravity manipulation USE IT. #i'm gonna be so honest i don't think meursault arc is over #sigh....ada reunion in 2025....manifesting #anyway i loved skk this chp they were stupid asf as usual #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #bsd #osamu dazai #dazai osamu #nakahara chuuya #chuuya nakahara #soukoku #skk #lotus draws

[1bringthesun]

so when dazai was in the hospital with that nurse, who’s the right one to blame?

(discussions of s/a, medical unprofessionally, and other bsd-typical things)

asking this question is wrong to begin with. there’s no, “ oh no, but who will we blame for the situation?” are you really still looking for someone to blame in bungou stray dogs, the series of grey morality?

well, i don’t blame you. so im making a post about it!

for convenience, i’m just going to assume they slept together because it makes the most sense, and is also generally what the fandom assumes when they try to point fingers at either two.

to better understand why people think a certain way, let’s break it down and approach this problem from two perspectives!

the nurse was in the wrong:

dazai had just gotten out of surgery for having a bullet wound and is still under the influence of anesthesia. she sees him using his phone and takes it from him. he’s handsome and willing to do things with her, so she sleeps with him, and when they’re done, she’s willing to give it back. not only that, but she has the audacity to ask again if they can do it “just once more.” it’s obvious she has zero care for him as a patient if she’s willing to sleep with someone fresh out of surgery, and also being under the influence, he’s not able to properly consent. regardless, she takes her chance to be with a handsome man, completely neglecting her job to care for his health as a nurse and breaking probably every single aspect of professionalism.

dazai was in the wrong:

an annoying woman is disregarding the gravity of his work and holding him, someone who’s important to the fate of the city, by normal hospital standards, when he’s been shot by a bullet before and knows his own body inhumanly well; another doctor even gave him permission, so who’s she to act like the boss of him? obviously, this bothers him, and he needs his phone, so he decides to take the quickest path to getting it back, and, spoiler alert: it isn’t recovery. he seduces her and puts her job at risk just so he’ll get his phone back, and when she becomes attached to him, he says yeah, sure, they can fool around again… if he feels like it.

they’re both in the wrong:

people blame her of sexually assaulting him, and also blame him of sexually assaulting her. they say he couldn’t have consented, she overly wasn’t interested in the beginning, she was meant to care for her patient, he’s a scumbag and a womanizer, etc.

but don’t you see? the fact that both of them have done awful things in these two panels…

…is the point.

dazai is an asshole for sleeping with a woman he doesn’t give a damn about just so she’ll do what he tells her to, and she’s totally insane for letting a patient who was just in surgery share physical intimacy with her.

she’s an awful nurse, and he’s a bitch! they both suck!!!! why only blame one of them for sucking?

from an outsider’s perspective, the nurse does seem to be more in the wrong. she was meant to be his caretaker for a while and completely neglected that, even going so far as to have relations with a patient still under the effects of drugs.

but… was he? he was speaking completely lucidly, and none of his thoughts or words or actions resembled someone under the influence in the slightest. he made a sour face at her when he realized he couldn’t just do whatever he wanted to do, and her attitude in the beginning was clearly appropriate for the situation. calling dazai a victim in this situation is wrong. he clearly took the initiative to change her position. is that not consent?

he manipulated her for access to a phone, and she used him as means of gratification, and both of that is wrong.

#bungou stray dogs #bsd #dazai #dazai osamu #nurse scene #dazai and the nurse #bsd analysis #morally grey characters #there’s no point in playing the blame game when they both did something inappropriate #also how come so many people headcanon him with tolerance to drugs and then say that he’s drugged when he’s convenient to victimize him? #people keep borderline infantilizing dazai. why? how? what? #did we read the same series????? #dazai is only a bad person when it’s convenient for their tastes #he was tooootally manipulated into doing that and taken advantage of.. yup #do you guys hear yourselves

[eksvee15]

MORE PROOF THAT MEGALOVANIA IS THE PLAYER'S THEME

THANKS TO DELTARUNE AND SUSIE FOR PROVING US RIGHT ONCE AGAIN!

So we all have this constant argument of whether MEGALOVANIA is Sans' fight theme or the Player's (it's not Chara's. Stop) fight theme. Well, I believe Deltarune's use of the soundtracks solved that issue for us.

There is a firm belief that in Undertale, and by logic Deltarune, the theme heard is the theme of who initiates the battle. Undyne starts the battle against us, both times we hear her theme - Spears of Justice and Battle Against A True Hero. Flowey ALWAYS starts the battle, so we hear his themes - Your Best Nightmare and Finale, also counts for Hopes and Dreams given he and Asriel are one and the same. And it's pretty evident that whoever has the first turn DOES NOT ACTUALLY MATTER, it is misleading and is canonically not actually relevant - Undyne herself specifies she's letting us have the first turn, in any fight, she's fair, and ALLOWS US the first turn. Sans gets the first turn to catch us off guard, which is what he does during the ENTIRE fight, ATK 1 DEF 1 yet takes multiple attacks to be defeated and will obliterate your health bar, suddenly has laser weapons, dodges, can manipulate space and gravity, teleport, stops time, his entire character is "surprise bitch", no wonder he gets that first turn - heck on the third turn he won't even finish his "beautiful day" speech and start attacking MID SENTENCE

There is, aside from Sans, one other occasion where the Player initiates the battle - that being Monster Kid. Yet MEGALOVANIA doesn't play there, instead, we hear the OST "In My Way" which is ONLY played against Monster Kid and Flowey in No Mercy. But I believe it's intentional, think of your first Genocide playthrough - you still kind of feel iffy, like it's wrong. It's not much of a challenge as it is a chore at this point. You just killed Papyrus. You just killed Toriel. Two people that have shown love, care, and so much genuine friendship to you, it feels awful. You're a danger, but not yet, a megalomaniac. (Side note, I think Etika's playthrough of No Mercy shows us how LOVE affects the actual player, because killing Toriel is a pain, killing Papyrus feels absolutely awful, but then when you get through Undyne the Undying? Etika celebrated beating her, then stopped and said "Wait no, why am I celebrating, I just killed her". THIS. LV affects us and how we view the Undertale characters, from being friends and caring about them, to being a challenge to overcome in the end. And not a lot of people realise that fact)

Now that I've established all this, where does Deltarune come into play? Well, specifically in Chapter 1, we fight Lancer a number of times. And he has that memorable bouncy theme when you fight him, Vs. Lancer. We all know that theme. However there is ONE moment where we DON'T hear Vs. Lancer DESPITE facing Lancer in battle.

The Susie V Lancer battle in the Card Castle's prison.

There, Susie alone engages battle against Lancer. And we know she engages because Lancer doesn't want to fight her, heck he even avoids to attack her at some point. The battle engaged is ENTIRELY Susie's intentions to put Lancer in his place. And the theme that plays, is Vs. Susie. Because SHE engaged the battle. So it's not Susie against Lancer, it's Lancer against Susie, despite US controling Susie. Just like it's Sans against us, despite us being in control.

This is proof. Proof that we hear the theme of who engages in a battle. You could also take as back up proof the Spamton NEO fight in Snowgrave, because he has every reason to engage against Kris - they're threatening everything Spamton COULD have, so of COURSE Spamton engages, furthermore because Kris goes from puppeted to puppeteer in his eyes. Sans never engages in battle against us. We engage against him. Because we're trying to get it over with.

MEGALOVANIA is most definitely the player's theme in late No Mercy run, and we know this thanks to Susie evolving the opposite way in Ch1 that we do in No Mercy.

Thank you for reading!!

#undertale #deltarune #undertale theory #deltarune theory #deltarune spoilers #undertale spoilers #sans #megalovania #susie #lancer #vs susie #vs lancer #theory #undertale genocide #deltarune chapter 1 #deltarune chapter 2 #undertale player #monster kid

[black-rose-writings]

I absolutely love how accepting Danny is of Dani/Ellie, but I am a master of angst and I therefore must make it angsty (even if only lightly).

Consider this:

Vlad is trying to figure out why the clones keep failing (it is the food issue, but he's a dunce and won't figure that out until later), so he tries to substitute what he thinks is missing with his own material, making Ellie a mix of him and Danny.

Now, this Ellie has bits and pieces of both Vlad and Danny's memories and abilities (technically, physically, she's closer to Danny, mentally, she is closer to Vlad, but she's also very much not bound by physical rules and, conciously or not, makes herself look more like Vlad than she should in an attempt to make him less likely to dispose of her). So Vlad is trying to make her believe she is the Prime clone while he "keeps her for further study", while she is trying to manipulate him into getting attached and actually keeping her as a daughter. Vlad gets attached.

Ellie, having never been human, is very bad at pretending to be one, especially at the begining. 0 respect for gravity and walls, does not quite understand how far human joints are supposed to bend or how social norms work. Basically, she's a little eldritch freak in the body of an adorable 12yo. She does eventually get better, but she is more ghost than human and will always be off in one way or another.

Now, fast forward a couple of months. Vlad has been awfully quiet and Danny is getting suspicious. Jack decides to invite Vlad over for dinner (nobody else is too happy about it, but Jack is a stubborn bitch and Maddie eventually decides that maybe Vlad would get the hint this time). Danny is dreading what Vlad would have planned for said dinner, so when Vlad walks in with a kid that is giving him all sorts of creeps, he's on high alert.

Of course, he thinks it's a scheme of some sort. Some kind of trick to woo his mom. Is that kid some kind of ghost he convinced to help him? A creation of Desiree? His actual biological kid that he's been ignoring until now that he has decided to take in to spite Danny? (That's what Maddie thinks. She certainly looks like she could be that.) Vlad claims she's adopted, but nobody's buying that.

So, while the dinner is getting finished and the adults are chatting, Danny practically drags Ellie aside and asks her what she is, totally ready to throw hands with this child if she turns out to be dangerous. Ellie plays dumb at first, but eventually reveals what she is (Vlad had a whole speech planned for Danny. Ellie is not sorry she ruined that).

And if she was just Danny's clone, I think Danny would probably handle it well (as well as one can handle finding out your enemy cloned you, anyway), though he would have some choice words for Vlad. But Ellie is not just Danny in this version and Danny has been traumatised by TUE. So, obviously, he throws hands with a 12yo. Ellie's only complaint is "your parents are going to hear us fighting, you flatcake." Danny does eventually calm down and Ellie promises him they can beat the shit out of each other later for proper ghost bonding, but first they have to survive the dinner with their parents.

#danny phantom #dani phantom #vlad plasmius #cheese melt #yes I am working on a full fic version of this #I'm not happy with the Vlad POV parts yet #the level of cognitive dissonance on that man will be the death of me

[koravelliumavast]

All Zellion Lore

He gets no bitches

Absolutely zero pussy

Is an incel

Does not actually exist

Raw ANTI-sex appeal (leads to being sent to tumblr horny jail)

No bitches megamind

Saddest most pathetic sex ever

Lesbian

Brandons elden ring character

Syls exlover

Zellion is the same Zellion as in Sixth Incarnation of Pandora, an unpublished sci-fi novel which he wrote

Dustbringer Moash

The author of the Gravity Fallsjournals

No drip

Secret project main characters

Is in fortnite

Died on the way back to his home planet

Is a war criminal

Zane venture but with spikes

Is kelsier in shardplate

Zero swag points

An onion 🧅

Swagless bastard

Constantly taking L’s

Has a homoerotic friendship with dalinar

Coolest mfer to ever exist

Wears metal plates

Inspired mass hysteria (true)

Zellion is love, Zellion is life

Unchained bondsmith

Is tumblr pikachu guy

Both odium and dalinars champion

The hero of ages

Has secrets

His only rhythm is Nickelback

Moashes boyfriend

Raboniels ex

Emperor Zurg

Has hooked up with dalinar in his drunk era

Is actually Adonalsium who didn’t get shattered but it was actually a prank

Unknowable

Did something unthinkable to that old man

Nvm he just fucked him

On the Kaladin and Szeth (b)road trip

Unfuckable

He might kill Moash idk at this point

The only blue fused

A simp for Kaladin

Is actually Szeth

Bisexual loser

he is also Taravangians new godsona

Drops his microwaveable lonely boys dinner for one and cried

A worldhopper who moved to Roshar to get a mini

Lezian with those fake mustache glasses

Navani will not accept him into her theoretical polycule

Taravangians new look after taking the shard of Odium and killing Rayse

A tumblr sexy man

A tumblr sexless man

Punches Ruin in the face (real)

A liar and a dirty dirty cheat

Will be at Dragonsteel 2022 with a chair (for hammering)

Actually just a human with carapace

Biggest loser in the cosmere

Loves plinko

Despite apperances he’s completely unbreadable

Zellion was pinning over szeth who is already in a committed monogamous relationship with nightblood, but he's rebounding with moash

Models the fused fashion line

Is Kelsier

Is also every sexuality and none of them at the same time.

Himbo

The tenth unmade

Gaslight gatekeep girlboss

Literally Hrathen but unfuckable

Has a gun

Created in a lab made specifically to be unfuckable

Virgin Loser (emphasis on loser)

Hot

Hoid in yet another disguise

The desire to be sexy but not having sex

Smores stick

Big scary fused villain (probably)

The Warrior of Light from final fantasy 14

Odiums champion? (One to make sense)

One of Hoids exes

Aesudan post crystal monster magical girl transformation sequence.

Is a slutty slutty bitch

Unfuckable

Sits in pain AND misery

From Sudan

A rough lover but once again is unfuckable

The sole knight radiant. Accesses all 10 surges

Clowned upon

Cries when he fights you. Like his (NOT)lover szeth

A ben10 alien

Mysterious

All of us

Has slept with Sadeas

His spikes are full of secrets

Is actually MRAIZE

Mansplain manipulate malewife

Is cringe

Bisexual but nobody wants them

Is actually a noble gas

Dalinar/Zellion/Szeth love triangle

Is Moash

Came from Moisty Mire

The most powerful being in the cosmere

Just a human guy

Nepotism baby

Is probably like hot but also still gets no bitches

The only thing nightblood won’t eat

Is actually Rin (bisexualzellion) in disguise

One in a Z(e)illion

He’s a shard

Odiums singersona

Is Brandon’s self insert

Swagless he/they (and any he/they pronouns user you have swag because you are not the biphobic bisexual Zellion)

#zellionsweep

A Pokémon or something

A new foe has appeared

Maybe he’s a cat boy

Wears metal plates

Is also Evi Kholin who could never be cringe

Yells it’s Zellin time before fighting anyone

Biphobic

Lavender marriage

He should be in fortnite

In love with szeth

Naked wrestling scene in Oathbringer

The friends we made along the way

Shouldbereadingprobably‘s cat

You canNOT fuck the spikes as the spikes are unfuckable

Is El (again probably actually makes sense)

Forgiven by the lgbt community

Highest popularity to word count ratio

Additional lore (courtesy of @poploppege-cosmere)

Hoid behavior (that’s actually us)

Fucks with Maggie’s internet connectivity

Is not actually fuckable. Does not fuck.

Blorbo from my kickstarters

Zellionsweep girlies are the daughters of the Moash girlies you didn’t fuck

COSMERE TUMBLRS CHILD

#lists #cosmere #brandon sanderson #stormlight archive #zellion lore #zellion #only takes an hour to get clowned upon #ok I’m going to chem lab #please update with what’s missing #zellionsweep

[lnkedmyheart]

This is rambly but my thoughts so far:

Someone said this is Sigma's entrance exam and that could be it. Dazai leaving the rest of the mission to Sigma, Sigma's whole arc.

Dazai falling to his death in an elevator is funny cause that guy is unkillable. He aint dying and anyone saying otherwise is being deliberately obtuse.

We have good reason to believe Chuuya has broken free from the vampirism/mind control situation and it would be a stupid decision to not have him play any role here. So far Chuuya has done the bare minimum. Him working with Fyodor parallels Sigma switching sides. Except we know Chuuya would never betray his people, be it the PM or Dazai whereas Sigma had good reason to turn on Fyodor.

Fyodor seems a bit too cocky rn. A little TOO cocky if you ask me.

Chuuya is still behind Fyodor. Fyodor underestimates Sigma, doesnt know about Chuuya's anti mind control hat, appears to believe Dazai is about to die.

Fyodor has made the biggest mistake he could have made by calling skk's connection shallow, which is a set up for future pay off cause that was so out of left field and ridiculous and would be bad writing without said pay off.

Chuuya can control gravity/control the cables to slow down the descent of the elevator without his ability being nullified.

We didnt see Chuuya in the shot which showed the elevator with Dazai in it free falling, Fyodor losing his shit and Sigma being terrified. No Chuuya. It makes no sense to not have him in the shot. Where are you gravity boy? Off to rescue the damn fish again?

Sigma rescuing Dazai takes are actually quite interesting but I highly doubt Sigma would be able to rescue Dazai in any way. He also would have no reason to believe Dazai survived that fall. So honestly unless we get a character comeback it has got to be Chuuya. The latter also makes sense in regard to the skk bond slander from before.

I doubt we will see the Meursault girlies next chapter or anytime soon. Dazai is falling to his death, its a good time to take a year long break to switch POVs.

Anyway Chuuya, Fyodor abd Sigma are the major players left on the scene and if Dazai doesnt return soon for a "haha I lived bitch" reveal we have Sigma who has to now single handedly take on Fyoya, Fyodor who thinks Dazai is dead and Chuuya who is still a wild card that hasnt been used yet.

Also sigmazai moments for my bizai agenda. Yes Dazai, go around and kiss as many boys as you like. Live your boy kisser fantasies before mounting an elevator and falling to your almost death.

Yes I do be bullshitting about the sigmazai smooch but its close enough to looking like one. Imma be delulu and believe my brain farts cause bizai is more important to me than acting sane.

Fyodor brought in Chuuya because he knew it would get under Dazai's skin, which it did, Dazai proceeded to *drown* Chuuya (as if he didnt know Chuuya is an excellent swimmer since sb) while giving a gay ass speech and actually reminiscing all their moments (it meant something to him cause we were shown the moments as an audience, it wasnt just for show on his part), fyoya escaped and Fyo gave a whole "he's my tool now" speech and mocked skk's bond, something Dazai prides himself about) thereby confirming that Fyodor was convinced Dazai did not value Chuuya at all, meanwhile Chuuya is silent and hidden in the shadows this whole time clearly not a vampire, wearing his anti mind control hat, dazai proceeded to enter an elevator and fall to his death in a machine that has several parts not in direct contact with him. Fyodor lost it thinking Dazai died and Chuuya, the gravity manipulator is not in frame.

#soukoku #fyodor #bsd spoilers #lmfao #im bored

[bnesszai]

Potion for Love by AURORA for any ship please!

"any ship". Well, I'm a basic bitch, so--

When I lay in your arms and our worlds can collide

Into one atmosphere, we are here 'til we're not

Dazai is sixteen.

The Mafia is like a home he never asked for, drenching him in blood and despair and death. So much death, but never his own, despite his best attempts.

He hates most days. He hates the feel of air in his lungs and of cloth on his skin. He hates when anyone tries to help clean him up after a mission. He hates opening his eyes and realizing that he has, again, survived.

There are a few things he doesn't hate, though. Even if he claims to loathe the existence of a certain gravity manipulator, he can recognize obsession when it settles into his bones. Chuua knows how to get under his skin, but he also knows how to understand what Dazai is thinking without Dazai having to say anything. That, at least, is reassuring.

Terrifying, but reassuring.

Right now, for reasons he can't begin to piece together, Chuuya is snoring, arm thrown across Dazai's waist, head cushioned on Dazai's arm. Said arm has fallen asleep long ago, but Dazai can't find it in himself to move. He isn't sure how they got here.

What he is sure of is that when Chuuya wakes up, Dazai won't be there.

~

When I see you again as a stranger or a friend

Could you give me a kiss from the past?

Make it soft, make it last like a lake in a glass

Like an endless reminder of us

Dazai is twenty-two.

He sees Chuuya again. Something pulls at his chest, something akin to longing, or maybe to fear. Chuuya, for his part, looks equal parts relieved, bitter, and sad, of all things.

Chuuya gets close and Dazai feels the ghost of their past across his lips.

~

I recall our minds being strange and alike

You were quiet at most, I would watch and explode

With a storm in my mind, you would understand why

They all name hurricanes after us

Dazai is seventeen.

He has seen Chuuya's corruption many times. It never stops being a hauntingly beautiful thing. The aftermath is less so.

"Dazai," Chuuya murmurs.

Hmm?" Dazai threads his fingers through Chuuya's hair.

"We have to go."

"No," Dazai says. He's already reported back to Mori and Kouyou. Hirotsu is nearby, ready when they need him, but always pliant to Dazai's whims. "You can rest here."

"The ground fuckin' hurts," Chuuya coughs blood onto Dazai's lap.

"You can't move like this. Rest. I'll carry you in a bit."

There's a hesitation. Chuuya shifts, hisses, and then becomes dead weight. "Promise?"

"Always."

~

When I see you again as a stranger or a friend

I will give you a kiss from the past

I will send you away, hoping you'll be okay

With a piece of your heart living in mine

Dazai is twenty-three.

He pulls Chuuya in. A selfish moment. An entire day of walking side by side, of teasing remarks, of soft looks that no one would ever expect from either of them. An entire night wrapped together, tumbling through sheets, whispered confessions into the darkness.

And then, Dazai pushes Chuuya away.

~

I don't feel love anymore

And how it hurts when you walked out of the door

Forgetting why we fell in love hurts me the most

Dazai is eighteen.

Oda has died in his arms.

Dazai disappears without a word.

~

I don't feel love anymore

And how it hurts when you walk out of the door

Forgetting why we fell in love hurts me the most

Dazai is twenty-four.

The note has two teardrops on it when he sets it on the table. He wonders what the recipient will think, but then decides he is no longer privy to such things. The empty pill bottle clatters out of his hand as the tremors set in. The whiskey bottle in his other hand comes back up to his lips.

A kiss of death.

#WHEW okay #thank you for this random prompt! #never had heard the song but it is very good #i tried to keep this from getting insanely long but #yeah #here ya go #Rohini #hope you requested it cuz you wanted pain #ness writes #hurt/no comfort #bsd #skk #tw implied suicide attempt #angst war 🔪

[ermakeys]

The Only Thing That Keeps Me Here Is Gravity

Warnings: Child Abuse (Implied/Referenced and brief descriptions), Canon-Typical Violence, Domestic Violence, Emotional Manipulation, Blood and Injury

CHILD ABUSE IS NEVER OKAY. There is a happy ending.

AO3

Translations:

Mando’a

Aran - Guard

Adiik - Child aged 3-13

Buir - Parent

Buire - Parents

Jag’buir - Father

Dal’buir - Mother

Vaar’ika - Runt

Strill - Highly intelligent six-legged hunting carnivore, capable of gliding and flight

Ad’ika - Little one, son, daughter, of any age - also used informally to adults much like *lads* or *guys*

Ni ceta - Sorry (lit. I kneel) groveling apology - rare

Ba’buir - Grandparent

Ba’vodu - Uncle/Aunt

Hut’uun - Coward (worst possible insult)

Nar’sheb - Contemptuous comment - like *shove it* but much stronger.

Sheb - Ass

Aruetii - Traitor, foreigner, outsider

Vor entye - Thank you (lit. *I accept a debt*)

Al’verde - Commander

Beroya - Bounty hunter

Huttese

Kuba, kayaba dee anko! - Come to me! (Approximate translation)

E chu ta. - An insult.

Tooska chai mani. - A curse involving the insulted person's mother and a Tusken Raider's chief.

Aran is a Mandalorian. They are a member of the Bro Squad along with Chad, Kit Fisto and Purse. They fight to protect those that can't protect themselves or need their aid.

But why? What made them the way they are?

This is the tale of Aran when they were Adiik, trapped in a home by gravity. This is the tale of when they learn to fly.

Aran yawned beneath their helmet. They followed quietly behind Chad and Purse as the three of them made their way to 79s with the promise from Kit to meet them there after his council meeting. The two clones had slipped out of their standard armor to escape the summer heat that prevailed even at night on Coruscant and Aran -not for the first time- felt like a bodyguard behind them in their full armor. The two were so absorbed in whatever they were discussing, Aran just had to keep an eye out for any troublemakers in the streets.

“Aran, bro, please back me up here,” Chad said with a laugh as he and Purse both turned to look at him and make their case. Aran hadn’t been listening and judging by the way Purse was starting to smirk, Purse at least knew.

“Whatever Purse said is wrong.”

“What!? You don’t even know what I said!” Purse exclaimed indignantly and raised his hands as he gestured wildly. “Chad could have just said all knives should be broken and I was defending your favorite thing!”

“If you’re for it, I’m opposed.”

Purse threw his hands up with a disgusted noise while Chad laughed loudly. Aran smiled beneath their helmet and tucked their thumbs into their belt. They loved riling Purse into a ranting frenzy. Purse continued to argue, but movement ahead caught Aran’s attention.

A little girl in a threadbare dress and dirt smeared across her face as she came skidding out of an alley up ahead. Their entire frame tensed under their armor when the girl scrambled to make the turn and ran down the street towards Aran and their friends. Her bare arms were covered in dark splotches.

Their eyes were fixed on the girl. Ice seeped through their veins as they coolly lengthened their strides to approach the girl. They were dimly aware of Purse and Chad calling them, but their focus sharpened when a man came rushing around the same corner. He rushed after the girl and grabbed her arm, causing her to cry out.

“Got you, you bi-AAH!” the man yelled and yelped when the girl twisted in his grasp to bite him. He didn’t release her and instead threw her against the nearby wall. “You little bitch! I’ll teach you to-!”

He had raised his hand to smack her. The girl had curled into as small a target as she could, waiting for the next blow. Except it didn’t come.

Aran tightened their grip on the startled man’s wrist who turned to look down at the shorter Mandalorian. He opened his mouth with a sneer and Aran moved. With a twist and a kick they had slammed the man into the ground. The stench of alcohol wafted up through the helmet’s filtration system and his jaw clenched as his lips curled into a disgusted and silent snarl.

“Did he hurt you?”

The girl flinched at Aran’s growled question as the man shrieked, slapping at Aran’s beskar to be released. She stared with wide eyes as the one who had chased her tried to free himself. Slowly, she nodded and Aran nodded stiffly. The ice in their veins reached their heart as they raised a fist, ignoring Chad’s and Purse’s calls.

“Better to close your eyes, adiik.”

—

“Adiik! Get back here!”

They didn’t listen. They only heard their heart thundering in their ears as they ran, ducking and weaving between the rocks. They knew that he wouldn’t be able to follow in his intoxicated state. The path leading away from the house and up the mountain was narrow and uneven. A small adiik like them could easily slip through and they knew this path. They’d used it before to run and hide from him.

“ADIIK!”

They hated how the word sounded when he said it. They’d heard other buire use the word with their adiik. It sounded warm and pleasant then. Filled with affection and the promise to care for them.

When he roared it like that all it promised them was violence.

Adiik jumped over a few rocks that jutted out and in the way and doubled their speed. It was a straight shot up for a while. Clearly visible from the path below and they hoped buir wouldn’t look up.

“I see you, Adiik! Get your sheb back here!”

Well, there went that hope.

They didn’t glance back when they heard a crash and loud swearing behind them. Probably stumbled and fell. Now was their chance to get a good distance between them. They darted up the path and soon the sound of buir’s swearing faded away. They kept running and climbing the mountain, higher and higher. Just because Adiik couldn’t hear buir anymore, didn’t mean he wasn’t following anymore.

There!

Adiik dove off of the path and slid down a gravel slope into the small yard of a hut. They’d seen it the last time they’d been able to run before buir could grab them. It didn’t look abandoned. It was too well maintained for that. Still, it would serve as a better hiding place than the otherwise bare mountains.

A faint curse made Adiik flinch and they dashed up the porch, looking for a place to hide. They didn’t want to try the door. Too risky. They looked up at the roof of the porch and smiled at the beams holding it up. That would do. Adults always forgot to look up. Adiik jumped the closest wooden pillar and clambered their way up. They lay down on a beam, trying to be as small as possible as the swearing came closer and louder.

“Adiik, I swear when I find you!”

They knew what lay on the end of that promise.

They flinched when they heard the clatter of stones and heard shuffling around. He was here. He’d found the hut. Adiik pulled their cowl further down over their face and clenched their eyes shut, hoping that he would turn around. They were hidden, they were hidden, they were hidden.

They peeked their eyes open when they heard the door of the hut open. Their eyes widened when a strill trotted out the door with a low growl and an older man followed it out. The man narrowed his eyes at whatever he saw in his yard and drawled, “What’s this? I don’t get many visitors up here and I don’t recall inviting you.”

Adiik’s fingers tightened in the wooden beam as they listened for their buir. They heard the crunch of gravel under heavy boots and the strill growled, nearly white muzzle raised to expose sharp canines. Adiik couldn’t help but admire the strill. They’d heard and read about the Mandalorian creature, but never seen one in the flesh. Judging by the way its muzzle was white with age compared to its gray-tan fur, it was already very old. Nobody ever wanted to challenge a strill without coming prepared, so it didn’t surprise Adiik that the crunching gravel stopped when the strill growled.

“I’m looking for my adiik. We had an argument and ran off,” their buir answered with a heavy sigh. Adiik’s lip curled in disgust. Buir always put it like that. He always made it look like Adiik was the disobedient one.

“No adiike here,” the older man declared, slipping his thumbs into his belt. “Vaar’ika here will keep a lookout and I’ll send any little ones we find down the mountain.”

Adiik knew their buir wouldn’t be satisfied without searching the hut and yard himself. But their buir also wouldn’t want to fight a strill. So, their buir agreed and sighed, “Don’t be worried about your strill giving my adiik a good scare. Maybe that will do some good.”

The older man just grunted and watched as their buir trudged back up to the path. Adiik watched as the strill eventually sat down and the older man reached down to pat their head, causing its wrinkly tail to smack against the wooden boards of the porch. Adiik froze when the older man squinted up at him and demanded, “You going to stay up there forever, adiik?”

Adiik tightened their grip on the beam. He’d known they were up here and lied to buir anyway? Why? They shouldn’t trust him.

The older man grunted in response and shrugged.

“Suit yourself. Vaar’ika won’t bite as long as you don’t startle her. She can’t hear or see from the left.”

Then the older man strolled right back into his hut. Adiik stared down at the strill as she yawned and flopped down on the porch, stretching her six legs out and away from her. They couldn’t trust them. Adults lied. They lied all the time.

Adiik stayed where they were. They didn’t know how much time passed, but they sniffed when they smelled a sharp scent coming from the hut. Eventually, the older man came out with two bowls and spoons, setting them on the small table on the porch. He plopped down in one of the rickety chairs and began to slurp at his soup.

Adiik’s mouth began to water and their stomach gurgled. When had they last eaten? This morning in a rushed quiet meal, so they wouldn’t wake buir? His dal’buir had raised a finger to her bruised lips to keep them quiet as they wolfed the porridge down.

They flinched when the older man glanced up with a raised brow and drawled, “Your soup is going cold, girl.”

“Not a girl,” Adiik hissed quietly and could see him fight back a smirk.

“Alright, boy then.”

“No!” Adiik snarled vehemently and pushed themself up a little to sit on the beam. “I’m not a girl or a boy! I’m ME.”

The older man stared up at them for a long moment. The only sound the breeze in a windchime. He nodded slowly and said, “I understand. Ad’ika, your soup is going cold.”

He turned back to his soup for a long and loud sip.

Adiik felt their anger from before simmering down and watched the older man for a while. Wary, they began to climb down the beam and dropped down to the porch. They flinched when Vaar’ika jolted awake and rolled onto her stomach, panting and tongue lolling out the side of her mouth. Adiik slowly relaxed when he saw her tail smack against the boards. They edged closer to the other side of the table and sniffed.

Maker, it smelled delicious.

Throwing caution in the wind, Adiik scrambled up the chair and yanked the bowl closer. They snatched up the spoon and began shoveling the soup into their mouth. Instantly, their eyes and nose began to water from the burn of the spices. They grinned into the creamy liquid and lifted the entire bowl up to slurp it directly from the bowl. A good burn!

“Don’t choke yourself, Ad’ika. Go slow,” the older man scolded them with an amused shake of their head. Adiik jumped at the sound of his voice and curled around their bowl protectively. “There’s more, if you want it.”

Adiik considered his offer. They pushed the bowl across the table and the man nodded with a quiet huff. “Be right back.”

The older man went back for more a second time by the time Adiik was starting to feel queasy from eating all that food. Stars, when was the last time they’d felt this full?

“It’s starting to get late, Ad’ika. You want to head home yet? Think it’s safe?”

Adiik considered his question as they looked at the rapidly sinking sun. They shook their head and muttered, “No, buir would still be awake when I get back.”

The older man hummed and leaned back in his chair, folding his hands in his lap.

“I’ll send Vaar’ika with you later then. She’ll get you home safely.”

Adiik glanced at the strill that had flopped back onto her side, enjoying the last rays of light. They slipped out of their seat and reached out to tap a paw. Vaar’ika just twitched an ear. Reassured, Adiik began to stroke her leg at first and when she rolled onto her back, her stomach.

A yawn made Adiik flinch and scramble back as the older man stretched in his seat. He stood up and Adiik tried to make themself even smaller. Instead of approaching them, the older man waved and sighed, “I’m not so young anymore. I’m going in to clean up and then going to bed. You’re welcome to come back whenever you want, Ad’ika.”

The older man frowned at Vaar’ika.

“Vaar’ika, aran,” he ordered and the strill sat up, eyes scanning their surroundings. Adiik watched as he gathered the bowls and spoons and stepped inside with a wave.

Nothing else happened. He just let them be. Adiik didn’t know how to feel, but he was full and had gotten away from one beating.

—

Adiik stared down at the hut from their vantage point with narrowed eyes. They followed the path and then climbed higher to observe the hut and the elder man. Hours later and they hadn’t seen or heard anything much to their growing frustration.

They huffed and slumped against the rock they were hiding behind.

The older man had invited them to come again. What good was that offer if he wouldn’t even show himself? Not that he knew necessarily that Adiik was there. Still, they’d wanted to be cautious and watch for a while before coming closer.

They’d thought they could trust adults before.

Better not to trust this older man too much. He’d fed them and sent Vaar’ika home with them before the strill had trotted back up the mountain. Adiik would wait and see for now.

“Are you watching the wind in the chimes?”

Adiik jumped at the voice behind them and whirled around, fist raised. A hand grabbed their wrist and their vision narrowed. They lunged forward and sank their teeth into what they expected to be skin, but was met with leather. They heard a swear somewhere above them and the hand holding their wrist went slack. Adiik spit out the leather in their mouth and scrambled back as quickly as they could.

Had buir followed? Would he-?

Adiik’s eyes widened in shock when they saw the older man crouched a few steps away in light leather armor. He rubbed at his gloved hand with a small grimace before he grumbled, “Osik, you’ve got a strong bite, Ad’ika.”

Their heart sank into their stomach. They’d tried to punch him. They’d bitten him. He was going to punish them. All the adults did when they-.

“Ni ceta,” the older man sighed and Adiik gaped at the apology coming from him. He… he’d apologized? “Shouldn’t have spooked you like that. Saw you watching and couldn’t help myself.”

Adiik didn’t know what to say. He just watched as the older man shook out his hand with a hiss and then looked up at them. They froze, trying to decide if they should run or stay. He frowned and Adiik began to tremble.

“Come on, let’s go down. I’ve got to skin these for the food I’m making,” the older man said and slowly pushed up to stand. Adiik flinched instinctively, but paused when they saw the three dotted pikas dangling from his belt. Their eyes widened when he picked up a sniper blaster rifle and began to climb down to his hut.

Adiik watched for a moment. He had mentioned food. It had been over a week since they’d been full like last time. They climbed down after him.

Vaar’ika made happy growling noises when the older man opened the door and he patted her head briefly before moving into his hut. Adiik froze when she turned her attention onto them and slowly reached out to rub their hands over their short fur when she leaned against her, tail wagging enthusiastically. Vaar’ika trotted back inside when she heard a whistle and Adiik stared at the open door.

They shook their head. Food was inside. Good food.

The inside was in the same old timer style as the outside. Almost everything was out of wood. Everything was neat and tidy, nothing cluttered the few surfaces of the small hut. A bed stood in one corner with a chest at the foot end. A table and a kitchen area. A door to what Adiik assumed was a bathroom.

The older man was standing in the kitchen area, taking care of the pikas he had shot with a flourish of his knife. Once he noticed Adiik had stepped inside, he waved them and ordered, “Cut these vegetables for me.”

Adiik cautiously pushed a chair closer to the counter and climbed up. They weren’t tall enough otherwise. They took a look at the vegetables on the counter and almost smiled. Good, they’d chopped these up before with their dal’buir. They were familiar.

“Here.”

They flinched when the older man offered them the hilt of one of his knives. A knife he had pulled from… somewhere. They accepted the knife and started chopping, glancing at what he was doing every once in a while. Dal’buir always bought their food already processed or whatever was leftover at her work. They didn’t cook much at home.

They felt their cheeks warm when the older man caught him staring one time. He hummed as he pushed the meat he’d cut up into a pan he’d prepared and declared, “Next time I’ll show you how to skin and cut them up yourself.”

Adiik perked up at that and returned to cutting the vegetables with a new fervor. The older man snorted in amusement and slowly reached out, giving Adiik enough time to move. “Stop. You’ll hurt your wrist if you keep cutting like that.”

The older man had taken off his gloves between entering the hut and now. His hands gently corrected Adiik’s grip before holding their hand for a few cuts. It felt strange, but once he had removed his hands, they did their best to imitate the cutting style he had shown them. He nodded, satisfied and turned back to the pan.

They worked in silence, the older man giving instructions every now and again. Finally, he set a lid over the bubbling pan and declared, “There. Now we just wait a while.”

He frowned down at Adiik and they stiffened at the attention they were receiving.

“Enough time to take care of that. Your buir give you that?”

Adiik blinked in confusion until the older man tapped his own eyebrow. They raised a hand and winced when they felt the sting of pain.

Oh. That.

“I’m fine,” Adiik grumbled as the older man crouched down to dig in one of the cupboards. That just earned him a scoff as he placed a medkit on the kitchen counter.

“Sure, you’re fine. Putting some bacta on it won’t hurt though,” he said, frowning as he looked in the kit. “Just humor an old man like me and put the knife down.”

Adiik glanced down at the knife they still held in their hand. Annoyance bubbled in them and they stabbed the point in the cutting board. It stood upright and they turned back to the older man as he snorted.

“Cute.”

He pulled out a small tube of a bacta salve and smeared some of it over Adiik’s cut through their eyebrow. It stung and they winced away from the older man’s touch. They waited for him to pull him back, but he just stood there, watching expectantly as his fingers were still stretched out towards him. Adiik inched back forwards and once their head touched the older man’s fingers, he continued rubbing the salve in as if nothing had happened.

“There. Now let’s eat,” the older man said and packed away the medkit. Adiik served the stew while he cut up a few slices of thick and dark bread. They ate out on the porch again and Adiik returned inside to help clean up. The two of them sat on the porch again and Adiik ran their hands over Vaar’ika’s pelt, exploring the leathery skin and sniffing at the strong musk coming off of her.

“The smell bother you?” the older man asked, eying Adiik with a raised brow and they shrugged.

“Smells better than buir after he’s been to the cantina.”

The older man made a disgusted sound and shook his head, muttering to himself as he balanced on the back two legs of his chair. Adiik glanced at the sun and stood up to go. The older man tilted his head and asked, “Going already?”

Adiik nodded with a small grimace. They didn’t really want to go. It had been so peaceful.

“Dal’buir is coming home early today. Jag’buir has the late shift tonight.”

The older man nodded and snapped his fingers, causing Vaar’ika to jump to her feet and trot over to where Adiik stood, tail wagging. Adiik ran a hand over Vaar’ika’s neck and felt some remaining tension bleed out of them.

“Thank you ba’buir.”

The older man scoffed, waving a hand at him.

“Who said I’m old? Call me Kaert or ba’vodu if you have to.”

A name. They finally knew his name. They smirked and called, “See you, ba’buir!”

“Rascal!”

—

“Adiik?”

Adiik froze where they were. They hovered in the doorframe to their room and tried to figure out where the call had come from in the dark. Finally, there was a shift and Adiik dropped their shoulders in relief when they recognized their dal’buir in the moonlight.

They quietly closed their door behind them and crawled onto their mattress where buir was rubbing at her eyes with a yawn. They crawled under the blanket and she pressed a kiss to their cheek. Everything was fine. Jag’buir must be asleep then.

“Where were you so late? I was worried,” their buir murmured. and Adiik winced. They snuggled closer, keeping their silence and their buir sighed. “You’ve been disappearing for hours every day after lessons and don’t come back until late. Just please tell me it isn’t trouble.”

Hours spent with Kaert and Vaar’ika. Kaert showing them how to do household chores and even walking with them in the mountains. Pointing out the few and scarce animals and plants that remained. Showing them advantageous terrain. Even letting them shoot a few dotted pikas after he’d shown Adiik how to handle the blaster rifle.

It wasn’t the same kind of trouble that jag’buir always got up to.

“Just playing with friends,” Adiik answered and looked up when no answer came. Their buir was fast asleep, exhaustion in every line of her face. On the one hand they were glad she wasn’t asking more questions. On the other they couldn’t help the sting of disappointment.

Things had been good recently. Maybe Adiik could surprise dal’buir and jag’buir with something they made in a few days. Adiik smiled as they snuggled deeper into their buir’s arms.

Yes, they would try that.

—

Adiik was running up the path again.

This time they had tears running down their cheeks and they were filled with burning anger. Their nails dug into their palms as they charged up the mountain. It was stupid to do in the dark, but in that moment Adiik just wanted to be gone, gone, GONE from that awful place.

It didn’t come as a surprise when they tripped.

Adiik fell with a shriek and lay in the gravel, jaw clenched. Their palms were stinging. Their knees and arms were probably going to bruise. Not to mention the throbbing pain from the burns across their face, front and arms.

Choking back a howl of pain, Adiik pushed themself up and back onto their feet. The first few steps were stumbling and then they were running up the mountain again. It took a few guesses, but then they found the slope that led to Kaert’s hut. They slid down the gravel slope and already Adiik heard Vaar’ika barking at the door. They leapt up the steps of the porch just as Kaert opened the door blaster pistol in one hand and Vaar’ika at his heels. Kaert opened his mouth to shout something when he recognized Adiik.

“Ad’ika? What-?”

Adiik pushed past him and Vaar’ika and scrambled to hide under Kaert’s bed. Before they could get very far, Adiik felt a hand grab their ankle and yank them out again. Adiik howled angrily and flailed wildly around them.

“You are bleeding and-! Did that hut’uun burn you!?”

Adiik’s world spun as they were dropped onto the soft bed and held there by Kaert. He scowled as Adiik struggled in Kaert’s grip and he barked, “Vaar’ika, medkit!”

Vaar’ika dashed to the kitchen and began snuffling presumably for the medkit. Adiik strained against Kaert’s grasp and snarled, “Let go! Just let me go!”

Kaert shook Adiik’s wrists and snapped, “If you didn’t want my help, you wouldn’t have come here! Now lie still and let me help you!”

Adiik fought back for a few more seconds before slumping back into the covers with a sob. Kaert took the medkit that Vaar’ika brought and as he began to take care of Adiik, they cried, “I just wanted to surprise them! Buir thought I wasted his money on expensive food, but I didn’t! I collected and hunted it myself! He didn’t believe me!”

They could see Kaert’s jaw clench as he pulled off Adiik’s cowl and shirt to treat the burns. Kaert hissed at the red marks and growled, “I’m guessing he threw the hot food at you.”

Adiik nodded, closing their eyes as the tears continued to fall.

“And these scrapes?”

“Tripped running up here.”

Adiik flinched when Kaert swore loudly in Mando’a. His fingers remained gentle as he smeared a layer of bacta on Adiik’s burns and scrapes.

“Why does your buir allow that hut’uun in your home? Why hasn’t anyone stopped this from happening?” Kaert demanded and Adiik pushed themself up with a snarl.

“Buir is part of the security force. And he’s friends with the mayor. Dal’buir never says anything. I’m called a problem child and a liar,” Adiik hissed and pushed Kaert’s hands away. Their voice rose in volume with each word. “Adults are liars! Nobody is ever going to stop buir from hurting us!”

The tears burned trails down their cheeks and they buried their face in their hands. Their shoulders shook with their sobs. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair at all. They flinched when Kaert placed his hands on their shoulders and gave a gentle tug. Adiik resisted for a moment before slumping forward and Kaert wrapped his arms around them.

It wasn’t fair.

—

Adiik watched as Kaert cleared his yard of debris and larger rocks. Vaar’ika was settled on the porch next to them, head resting in their lap and tail thumping against the wood of the porch. They had stayed last night and were reluctant to return home, afraid that their buir would still be home. They dug their fingers into Vaar’ika’s wrinkly pelt.

No, better to hide for a while longer.

“Ad’ika, come here,” Kaert ordered suddenly when he was satisfied with his yard. Adiik jumped at the command and slowly pushed themself up. They stepped into the yard and stood opposite of Kaert as he placed his hands on his hips with a small frown.

It felt strange. Whenever other adults frowned like that at them, Adiik tried to get away, heart hammering in their chest. When Kaert frowned like that, they knew he was just thinking and considering his next words. It made them feel more at ease than any other adult.

“I am worried for your safety,” Kaert stated bluntly and Adiik felt their shoulders tense. The bacta had removed the worst of their injuries from last night, but their skin was still tender where the burns had been. They knew they were in constant danger in that house. “You learn good things at your school about language and peace, society and government, but those things belong in an ideal world. The galaxy is not a kind place and you know that better than anyone.”

Kaert gestured between the two of them.

“I want to teach you what you will need to know when you leave Mandalore.”

Adiik raised their brows and tilted their head.

“‘When I leave Mandalore’?”

Kaert just raised a brow in a deadpan expression. Adiik couldn’t say he was wrong. They had dreamt of the idea. They hadn’t seen much of Mandalore, but they did know that they didn’t want to stay. To get away and as far as they could.

“What will we start with?”

Adiik couldn’t help feeling a little flustered at the proud grin Kaert shot them at their response. Kaert got into a ready stance with open palms and drawled, “Huttese and self-defense. Try and keep up.”

Adiik didn’t get much of a chance to slide into their own ready stance, heart fluttering with excitement. Kaert lunged forward and Adiik flinched back, hands trying to bat away his open hands. They scrambled back to create some space and Kaert barked, “Kuba, kayaba dee anko!”

Kaert waved his hands for Adiik to come forward and they bared their teeth in a quiet snarl. He wanted them to stop running. Adiik surged forward, exhilarated. Finally, a lesson that could help prepare them for the future.

—

“I’m home!” Adiik called, rushing through the front door. They dashed into their room and flung their bag into the corner before stripping and wearing something lighter. Something they wouldn’t mind getting dirty when Kaert threw them to the dusty ground over and over again. He had promised them to show them how to trip up even a heavy adult today and Adiik had been on the receiving end often enough that they relished the idea of getting their chance to return the favor.

They turned to dash out when they saw their buir standing in the doorway. She frowned at the sight of him and Adiik froze. She had a new split lip that hadn’t been there this morning. Something must have happened in the time Adiik had been at school and before jag’buir had gone to work.

“Where are you going?” she asked in a quiet voice. Adiik shrank back. This wasn’t the soft, fond notes that she would use with them.

“Out to play,” Adiik answered breathlessly. Their heart skipped a beat when their buir glanced towards their school bag.

“What about your homework? Your buir will be unhappy if he hears you aren’t doing your work.”

Adiik shook their head slowly.

“I finished my assignments.”

“Show me.”

Adiik flinched at the demand and hurried to pick up their bag. They pulled out the datapad and held it to their buir who scrolled through the information with a frown.

They had finished their assignments. They’d asked their teacher if they could stay at their desk a little longer to finish the work there. They’d been delighted and even answered a few questions that Adiik had had. Kaert always said to ask questions when they didn’t understand something. Always said it was important to get their work done first before coming up the mountain.

“Where are you going to play?” their buir asked,handing back the datapad reluctantly. “You’re home so little nowadays. What are you doing out there? Your buir has noticed.”

That brought on a cold sweat of fear. It was never good if jag’buir noticed something enough to comment on it. Adiik swallowed and with a smile said, “Just exploring the mountains with a few kids from class.”

Their buir fiddled with the hems of her sleeves and Adiik tried to ignore the twist in their gut when they saw the edge of bruises peeking out. Her shoulders rose and fell with the force of her sigh and their buir said, “I wish you would spend a little more time at home. If it’s just me, he…”

She shook her head and smiled at Adiik, reaching out to place a palm against their cheek.

“We should both try to help your buir. He has a very stressful job and needs us when he gets home.”

Adiik flinched away from their buir’s hand with narrowed eyes. They took a step back and in an accusing tone said, “Just because you’re willing to be his punching bag, doesn’t mean that I have to be too.”

SMACK!

Adiik blinked in shock at the stinging sensation on their cheek. They slowly turned wide eyes back to their buir whose mouth opened and closed, equally startled by what she had done.

“I… I didn’t mean to… I would never hurt you on purpose, Adiik. I…”

They ran.

Adiik ignored her cry that turned into a wail as they dashed around them and out of the house.

Adults were liars.

Except maybe Kaert.

—

Adiik ducked under one of Kaert’s swings, eyes focused on the movements of the older man. They jumped to avoid the sweep of his leg and dashed around to Kaert's back. He cackled at Adiik’s quick moves and in Huttese exclaimed, “Good, good! Use your speed, Ad’ika!”

Kaert whirled around and tried to grab at them, but Adiik danced out of their grasp with a smug grin. He scowled and whistled, causing Adiik to jump back further warily. What did he have planned now? What was-?

Adiik yelped when something slammed into their back and they fell face first into the dirt. Kaert laughed above them and Adiik spluttered, spitting dust and dirt out of their face. Vaar’ika panted happily, snuffling Adiik’s ear and they shoved the snout away with a roll of their eyes.

“That was cheap.”

“Oh and everyone will agree to a duel and play fair.”

“Nar’sheb.”

“In Huttese.”

“E chu ta.”

Kaert cackled, crouching down to poke at Adiik’s head while Vaar’ika was still holding them down.

“We’ll get as much Huttese in your head as we can for the next month before we switch to a new language. Bocce is useful if you intend to travel between stars.”

Adiik tried to push up, but Vaar’ika just settled more of her weight on them. They dropped back down with a huff and grumbled, “Great. Can I get up now?”

“What’s the magic word?”

“Tooska chai mani.”

“Do I want to know why you have Vaar’ika sitting on a child in your yard and swearing at you, Kaert?”

Adiik flinched at the modulated voice and scrambled to their feet when Vaar’ika jumped off with a happy bark. Kaert stood up with a wicked grin and Adiik hurried to stand behind him, watching as Vaar’ika trotted towards an armored man, walking towards them. He hadn’t come from town or the path Adiik used. He came from the path Kaert and Adiik used to climb up higher in the mountains for target practice and trapping.

He approached with a calm swagger, greeting the excited strill with a pat to the head. Adiik couldn’t help shuffling further behind Kaert when the silver and blue beskar gleamed in the sun. They’d seen pictures of the Mandalorians in full armor. The True Mandalorians and the Death Watch. Their teacher had talked about them a little in their lessons.

The Mandalorian warrior and Kaert clasped their forearms in greeting and Kaert clapped the other on the shoulder with a grin.

“You swore at me often enough when I helped train you,” Kaert drawled with a snort. The warrior shook his head as a quiet chuckle drifted from the helmet’s vocoder. “I appreciate you coming out here for me. Couldn’t have been easy.”

The warrior shrugged and Adiik flinched when his visor tilted down to look at them.

“I don’t enjoy coming here, but I just had to see this ad’ika you were telling me about.”

Kaert talked about them? Wariness and delight warred inside them and Adiik jumped when Kaert pushed them in front of him. They leaned back until Kaert held onto their shoulders and he said, “Ad’ika, this is my friend Jango. Jango, this is Ad’ika.”

Adiik’s eyes widened when Jango removed his helmet and tucked it under one arm before offering Adiik his gloved hand.

“A pleasure,” Jango answered with a raised brow. In a way it made Adiik want to smile. Kaert made the same expression when he was amused but didn’t want to show it. They carefully extended their hand and relaxed a little when Jango kept his grip light enough for Adiik to easily slip out of. Still, they just silently nodded in return and let out the breath they’d been holding when Jango focused on Kaert again. “I brought what you asked for. Seeing your little warrior here now, it makes more sense why you’d ask for it.”

Jango reached into the bag he’d slung over one shoulder and Adiik watched as he handed a belt with two daggers over to Kaert. The older man hummed, pleased as he tested the leather in his hands and then pulled out one of the blades. It shimmered and Jango held up a vambrace. Before Adiik could wonder why, Kaert tapped the dagger blade against the silver vambrace and their eyes widened as a beautiful ring echoed from the blade and vambrace.

“A good beskar blade,” Kaert declared with a satisfied nod. He slipped the dagger back into its scabbard and then pulled out the second blade. This one hummed as it vibrated faintly and Adiik tilted their head, curious. “And a good vibroblade. These will do nicely.”

Kaert glanced down at Adiik with a small smirk. He sheathed the vibroblade back into its scabbard and asked, “Do you want these, Adiik?”

Adiik gaped up at Kaert with wide eyes.

“I can?”

Kaert nodded and Adiik started to reach for the belt and blades, until Kaert pulled them back and up. He lifted his chin towards Jango and drawled, “You can have them, if you can land a solid blow on Jango here.”

Adiik flinched back with a glance towards Jango who had paused midway through ruffling through his helmet-hair. He shook his head and sighed, “Why do you have to drag me into this? I have better things to do than train your student.”

“You didn’t have anything better to do than be a courier for my blades when I called you.”

Jango raised an amused brow and tucked a thumb into his belt, shifting into a casual stance.

“I have a bounty to hunt by next month, Kaert.”

Kaert scoffed, shaking his head.

“More than enough time for Ad’ika to land a blow on you.”

Adiik shrunk back when Jango raised his brows and then lowered his gaze to look them up and down.

“Oh really? That confident in your ad’ika?”

No, no, no, Kaert had no reason to be-.

“Of course.”

Adiik wanted to sink into the ground and disappear.

—

Adiik quickly understood why Kaert had asked Jango to stay for a few training sessions. Kaert was tall and nimble and used those to his advantage. Jango was shorter and just as quick, but Adiik could see the force he could use if he chose to. The moment Jango managed to grab them, the bout was over no matter how much Adiik twisted and kicked.

They couldn’t use the same tactics that they used with Kaert.

Adiik clenched their teeth as they ducked under Jango’s arm and scrambled to get away when his other hand darted out to grab him. They yelped when a leg suddenly lashed out and swept their feet out from under them. Adiik hit the dusty ground with an ‘oof’ and rolled to their feet, panting.

Jango smirked, arms up as he followed to where Adiik had rolled. Annoyance bubbled in them. It had already been a week and so far they’d only managed to dodge for longer before Jango would grab them. That smug confidence was starting to rub Adiik the wrong way as well.

They snarled as they lunged forward to grab at Jango’s armorless torso. He twisted aside and Adiik tried to follow. Until their foot slipped in the dust, setting them off balance. Jango spotted the mistake instantly while Adiik swore and before they knew it, they were dangling by the back of their shirt from Jango’s grip.

Jango dropped Adiik back to the ground and Kaert clicked his tongue from where he stood on the porch with Vaar’ika.

“You got impatient, Ad’ika,” Kaert drawled and Adiik kicked at the ground with a sullen scowl. “Good time, but extending the fight does you no favors. You need to be able to end the fight.”

“Yes, ba’buir,” Adiik grumbled, using the nickname he knew Kaert disliked the most. They were proven right when Kaert narrowed his eyes and shook his head.

“Go wash up. Dinner is almost ready.”

Kaert disappeared inside and Jango clapped a hand against Adiik’s shoulder before walking to the side of the house. Adiik followed, still pouting as Jango used the faucet on the side to wash his hands and face. Shaking his hands off, he stepped aside to make room for Adiik and said, “You’ve got good instincts, Ad’ika. You just need time to grow into them.”

Adiik grumbled, ducking their head under the water to get rid of the dust in their hair. They came up spluttering and brushed their wet hair back. They wiped the water in their face away to see Jango counting credits in his hand.

“I don’t like draining Kaert’s supplies, even if he insists that it’s fine,” Jango explained before holding out a few credits to Adiik. “I don’t want to show my face in town, but you could get supplies for us.”

Adiik’s confusion cleared at his words and he pocketed the credits with a nod.

“I’ll get what Kaert is missing.”

Jango ruffled through Adiik’s hair with a grin.

“Good. Now, let’s go eat. Training is hungry work.”

—

The town market was bustling with activity. Adiik ducked through the side passages as they scanned for the supplies that Jango had asked them to fetch. They felt some delight that they’d get the chance to do something for Kaert and Jango.

Kaert gave Adiik a place to escape. A place to lick and treat their wounds. A shoulder to cry on and an open ear for complaining and screaming. They were learning more from Kaert than their parents had ever showed them.

What Jango got out of tossing an eight year old into the dirt was beyond Adiik.

No, they could make a guess. They’d heard them discussing old battles and people with fond smiles. Both were somber men, but the more time they spent together, the more relaxed they felt. Adiik hadn’t even realized that Kaert always carried a certain tension around with him until they’d seen him relax now around jango.

A loud cry from the market made Adiik flinch. They hid behind a stall, watching the vendors and customers with wary eyes. They used to love exploring the market on the way home from school until they’d been accused of stealing.

Their buir had been furious.

Adiik shuddered at the memory of what had happened at home that evening. No, better to avoid being seen. Especially if their buir might be patrolling today.

They hurried to the stall with the supplies Jango had asked for. The vendor raised her brows in surprise at the sight of them and asked, “Well, well, well, haven’t seen you around in quite some time? What trouble are you getting into now?”

Adiik held out the datapad with the supplies listed out to the vendor with a small frown and argued, “I’m not getting into trouble. I’m shopping.”

The vendor frowned as she skimmed the list and lowered it with some concern.

“And what credits will you be paying with? Some of these items are a bit pricier and I don’t think your pocket money will be enough.”

Adiik pulled the neck-pouch they’d slipped the credits into out from under their shirt and passed them to the vendor. They felt their hands become clammy as the vendor peeked inside in surprise. She could just take them. Claim they were hers and call them a liar if they tried to push it. Their buir would be called and-.

“Allright, I’ll get everything together. Wait a minute.”

Adiik’s shoulders slumped in relief and they nodded as the vendor turned away to gather everything. They shuffled and pulled their cowl lower over their face. They were so close. Adiik smiled when the vendor handed a bag with everything inside to them and began to count out the credits necessary.

“There, I’ll put your remaining credits back in. Maker, knows where you got this many to begin with,” the vendor said, holding out the neck-pouch. Adiik grinned and reached for the pouch only to freeze when they heard heavy steps behind them.

“Adiik?”

They turned slowly to see their buir and another security force member beside him. Their buir’s eyes flickered back and forth between the vendor and Adiik in visible confusion before they frowned.

“Adiik, what is this?” their buir demanded in a quiet tone. Adiik swallowed and opened and closed their mouth a few times, trying to form words. Fear filled their voice and only a few garbled sounds came out. Their buir stepped closer and grabbed the bag Adiik was holding to look inside. His frown deepened at the sight and was slowly becoming angry. “Answer me. What is this?”

“Sho-shopping,” Adiik managed to stammer out and flinched when their buir yanked the bag away from them entirely. Their buir took the pouch from the vendor and peered inside as well, eyebrows shooting up in shock before coming down in a thunderous expression.

“Where in fark did you get this many credits!?” he exclaimed angrily and Adiik cringed in the face of his fury. They wanted to run, but the market was busy, people were gathering to watch, creating a wall of people that would make it harder. Not to mention their buir would get even angrier.

Their buir shook the pouch with credits and the bag at Adiik and snarled, “Did you steal these? Again?”

Adiik’s eyes widened in horror and they shook their head violently.

“No! I was asked to go shopping and-!”

Their buir grabbed Adiik’s arm in a painfully tight grip, causing them to gasp. He yanked Adiik closer and hissed, “Go home and wait in your room. I’ll be back once I’ve dealt with your mess here.”

“But I didn’t-!”

Adiik cried out when their buir tightened his grip further on their arm.

“Go. Home.”

He released his grip when Adiik nodded frantically. They stumbled and cradling their arm, dashed away, pushing through the whispering crowd. Their heart thundered in their chest, throat constricting as they tried to drag in enough air into their lungs. The path home blurred until they pushed the door open and stood in the house.

It was eerily silent.

For now.

Adiik knew what was coming.

They rushed into the room and pushed everything to the corner along with the mattress. Their hands shook as they reached up for the button of the shutters. They stared out the window towards the mountains where Jango and Kaert would be waiting for them later and they wouldn’t come.

The mountains reached up into the sky. Like fingers grasping for the clouds and the space beyond. As if they desperately wanted to escape the world at their feet just like Adiik. To escape into space so they wouldn’t have to face the world.

Only for gravity to yank them right back down.

Adiik felt the tears roll down their cheeks as they hiccuped for breath.

They pushed the button for the shutters, hiding the world outside.

Gravity had come for them.

—

Pain blazed through their veins like fire.

Hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt.

They couldn’t remember when their buir had finally stepped out of their room. The house and the outside world seemed to be silent from what they could tell from the blood rushing through their ears.

Night, then?

Hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt.

Kaert would be wearing that small frown of his when they didn’t visit. Vaar’ika would be whining on the porch, head on her clawed paws.

Hurt, hurt, hurt, hurt, it hurt.

Jango! He would be wondering where his credits and supplies would be. They tried to lift an arm to push themself up, but the burning pain became an inferno. They flopped back down, pressing a hot, wet cheek to the cool floor beneath them.

They could try and explain.

Maybe he would understand.

Kaert trusted him. Maybe Adiik could trust him too.

For now, they allowed the darkness to swallow them up again.

—

Adiik gave themself two days before they snuck out of the house.

They took their time climbing the dark path up the mountain. Their buir had forbidden them from leaving the house and night was the only time when they could leave. He would be too drunk to notice then.

They had to take their time as well. Their entire body still ached and one slip sent lances of blinding hot pain through their body. A climb that normally would have taken them twenty minutes felt like an eternity now.

The lights were on. Adiik felt a surge of relief even though they didn’t quite understand why. Of course Kaert and his hut would still be there. They blinked down the wave of tears that threatened to spill over and glanced down the gravel slope that usually they wouldn’t think about twice sliding or jumping down.

Now it just looked like agony.

“Vaar’ika,” Adiik called in their hoarse voice. Even two days later and their voice still cracked from the crying and screaming. The strill had the best chance of hearing Adiik. They swallowed thickly, silently begging for Vaar’ika to hear and force herself out. “Vaar’ika, please. Vaar’ika.”

The door slammed open by a cursing Kaert as Vaar’ika barreled her way out once he had started opening the door. Adiik choked on a relieved sound as Vaar’ika ran across the yard and up the gravel slope. Her tail wagged with excitement until she got closer. Adiik knelt, wrapping their arms around her neck carefully and the strill whined, licking at their face.

“Ad’ika?”

Adiik lifted their wet face from where they had buried it in Vaar’ika’s pelt to see Kaert standing in the yard while Jango stood in the bright door frame. They sniffled and called, “I can’t slide down the slope.”

There was a long beat of silence and then Kaert rushed up the slope, swearing in every language he knew. His hands hovered over Adiik before he carefully slipped his hands under them and lifted them up into his arms. Adiik tried their best, but couldn’t stop the whimper of pain.

“Jango! Get the medkit out under my sink!” Kaert yelled and slid down the gravel slope, Vaar’ika running after him with a worried whine. Adiik allowed themself to relax in Kaert’s arms and blinked drowsily as they were rushed into Kaert’s home. The climb had been exhausting. They were barely aware of Kaert stripping them down to their underthings or Jango’s and Kaert’s swearing at what they found underneath.

“Can’t stay long. Buir can’t know,” Adiik mumbled, leaning against something soft and warm. Something cool was being smeared into their abused skin and muscles. It felt nice. It eased the ache they felt. “I wanted to come.”

“Their buir did this!?”

Adiik flinched at the fury they could hear in Jango’s voice. They forced their heavy eyelids to open and saw Jango clenching his fists as they stalked up and down the room, rage radiating off of him in waves. Kaert’s lips were pressed into a thin line and he was trying to keep his calm as he applied bacta to Adiik’s skin.

“I’m sorry, Jango,” Adiik whispered and Jango froze at their miserable tone. He hurried closer and took Adiik’s hand with a confused frown. “I tried to get the supplies. Buir thought I’d stolen the credits though. He took everything. I’m-.”

“Don’t you dare say you’re sorry,” Jango snarled and Adiik trembled, trying to hide in Kaert’s bed. “This is not your fault. That hut’uun-!”

Jango cut himself off and he drew in a deep breath through his nose. He brushed a hand through Adiik’s hair and growled, “None of this is your fault. It’s just credits. I can get that back easily with the next bounty.”

The room was silent except for Vaar’ika’s whining.

“Then you’re not angry?”

Adiik hated how teary and fearful their voice sounded. Jango shook his head, expression softening.

“Never, Ad’ika.”

—

Adiik chewed on some dried jerky as they studied the datapad Kaert had given them. Vaar’ika had pressed their boney frame against their side where they were sitting on the steps of the porch, huffing in their sleep. The sun was high and Adiik enjoyed the warmth it shared.

Even if they would have to retreat inside soon since the summer sun wasn’t merciful.

“How is it coming along?”

Adiik looked up to see Kaert coming down the gravel slope with a pair of dotted psikas on his belt and his rifle in one hand. Their leather armor was painted with the white and beige dust of Mandalore. They smiled at the sight of them. Vaar’ika raised her head before dropping it with a quiet huff again and Kaert glared at her.

“I’m your master, not this stray we picked up,” he complained in Ryl, standing in front of them with a shake of his head. “Fifty years I’ve known her and she abandons me for you.”

Adiik laughed and rubbed a hand over Vaar’ika’s head.

“I’m not the one that named her ‘runt’,” Adiik countered in careful Ryl. Nearly two years since they’d met Kaert and they were practicing their third language together. They thought they were getting the hang of Ryl. Sending Jango messages in Bocce and Huttese helped them stay in practice too. Their laughter echoed in the hollow where the hut was as Kaert threw up a hand in exasperation.

“I wasn’t the one to name her,” Kaert declared, pointing at the snoozing strill. “This ancient runt was already called that when I inherited her.”

Adiik glanced down at Vaar’ika with a small frown.

“How old is she?”

Kaert had started to walk up the steps to take care of the piskas and paused at their question. He bowed his head and sighed, “I don’t know. Just that I’m her fourth and probably last master.”

Kaert disappeared inside the hut and Adiik turned back to their datapad after stroking Vaar’ika’s head a little longer. They still needed to answer Jango’s latest message in Bocce while looking up as few words as possible.

Jango had left soon after the last beating. He needed to hunt down the bounty and had said being this close to their buir made them feel more murderous than was helpful. Especially since Adiik insisted Jango not slit his throat.

It was enough that Adiik had Kaert and Jango in their life. They made it all bearable.

Jango didn’t come to visit again and Adiik had to admit they missed him. He had also gifted the belt and two blades to Adiik on the day he left. Knelt in the dirt and tied the belt around their skinny waist. He had placed a fist over Adiik’s heart and said, “You have a warrior heart. You’ve earned your blades. Stay strong, verd’ika.”

Adiik had wrapped their arms around Jango’s neck and sobbed into his armor. They wore the belt whenever they visited Kaert now. It was the first thing they put on and the last thing they took off when they came and went.

They jumped when Vaar’ika raised her head, ears twitching as she listened to something. Adiik locked their datapad warily and watched and listened. What had she heard? Was someone coming? Sometimes people got a little lost, but they would just pass-.

Security forces.

Buir.

Adiik felt the blood drain from their face when they saw the three security forces at the top of the gravel slope. One of them their buir. Vaar’ika growled quietly from where she lay, eyes fixed on the three above. Adiik grabbed the back of her scruff with a trembling hand and in Ryl called, “Visitors.”

They hated how their voice trembled.

Their buir and his two friends began to climb down into Kaert’s yard. Adiik refused to run and hide in Kaert’s home. They tightened their grip on Vaar’ika as their buir and his friends reached the yard. He looked around the yard with a small frown and said, “So, this is where you disappear to after school every day. Adiik, you can’t hide something like this from your buir and I. You’ve really upset her.”

Adiik cowered as their buir stepped ever closer. He’d found them. He’d found their sanctuary.

Stop, stop, stop, please, stop, please-.

“That’s far enough.”

Adiik wanted to cry at the sound of Kaert’s voice behind them. They heard the creak of the porch and his leather armor as Kaert crossed the porch. He stood directly behind Adiik, close enough that they could feel the heat of Kaert radiating against their back. They glanced up to see Kaert standing there, thumbs in his belt with a bored expression.

“I don’t believe I invited you onto my property,” Kaert drawled and nodded back towards the path. “Off you go.”

Their buir had stopped at the sight of Kaert and narrowed his eyes at his words. He gestured toward Adiik and declared, “That is my Adiik. What kind of father would I be to leave my child like this?”

“What kind of father, indeed.”

Adiik flinched at Kaert’s tone. It sounded pleasant at first. It wasn’t meant to be though. It was a tone that invited anger. It was worse when their buir tilted his head, considering Kaert carefully.

“You didn’t seem to care that your ad’ika hid up here with me for the last two years.”

Their buir’s jaw clenched at Kaert’s words.

“That is none of your business.”

“It shouldn’t be, but I’ve decided to make it mine.”

Adiik wanted to cry when their buir glanced down at them with furious eyes. He knew that Kaert knew about what happened at home. Their buir took a deep breath and in an overly patient voice sighed, “I don’t know what Adiik has told you, but-.”

“Oh, next to nothing. I prefer actions over words anyway,” Kaert interrupted their buir with a disdainful sniff. Adiik looked up in time to see his expression turn into a snarl as his voice dropped. “And your actions have spoken so clearly you might as well have screamed them from the mountain.”

Their buir’s two friends glanced at each other. Adiik had seen them often. Had once asked one of them for help. Been told to stop lying about where they got their bruises from. They felt a spark of anger. Now that an adult was speaking up for them, the two seemed more inclined to believe them. That spark allowed Adiik enough movement to stand up and hide behind Kaert, drawing their buir’s attention.

“We will discuss your lying at home,” he snapped and flinched when Vaar’ika stood up with a low growl. “Adiik, come here. Now.”

Adiik shook their head and their buir began to stalk forward with barely contained fury.

“I said-!”

He didn’t get very far.

The moment their buir set foot on the porch steps, Kaert lifted a foot and kicked him off of the porch. Their buir fell back onto his back with a wheeze and his two friends got into ready stances, drawing their batons. Adiik inched back when Kaert settled back into his bored stance and drawled, “Adiik can come and go as they please. You three-”

And Kaert nodded at the three members of the local security force.

“-are not welcome here.”

Their buir pushed himself up with a furious expression and drawing his baton, snarled, “You’ll regret doing that.”

Kaert scoffed, shaking his head.

“The only thing I regret is not kicking your sheb sooner.”

Adiik cried out when their buir lunged for Kaert, swinging their baton. Kaert leaned back and used his open palms to guide the baton past them. He grabbed their buir’s arm and yanked his stomach into Kaert’s raised knee. Adiik’s eyes went wide as Kaert shoved their gasping buir away and followed him down with a haughty swagger.

“Come on, show me what the Mandalorians of this age are like.”

The two security forces charged at Kaert, yelling and Adiik hid behind the railing of the porch with a snarling Vaar’ika. Adiik had always known Kaert was good. He’d helped train Jango and he was a seasoned bounty hunter.

Kaert was like the wind in his chimes.

He used minimal movements to avoid the attacks of the two security forces. They stumbled and collided as he used their own movements against them and had them slamming into each other. With a light kick, Kaert had disarmed one of the security forces and twirled the baton in his hands with a grin.

Adiik’s buir pushed himself up with a snarl and charged at Kaert as the other two struggled to their feet. Their buir swung again and again, grunting and snarling while Kaert dodged with ease. The security force members tried to join in, but again Kaert just dodged, only using the baton in his hands when he had to and to deliver final blows to force them to the ground.

“Is this all hut’uun?” Kaert mocked Adiik’s buir when he smacked the younger man to the ground again. Adiik clung to the wooden railing as Kaert stalked to their kneeling and panting buir and used the baton to tilt his face up. “Not so keen to beat me down like you do women and children, eh? What’s it like to fight someone your own size?”

Adiik yelped when they felt a hand grab the back of their shirt and yank them over the railing. Vaar’ika barked and Adiik gasped, “No, Vaar’ika! Stay back!”

One of the security force members had grabbed them. Adiik struggled in the grip as he locked his baton under their chin and pulled them back, facing Kaert. The security force yelled, “Drop the baton! We are leaving!”

The other security force member picked himself up off the ground slowly with a groan and limped towards where Adiik was being held. Kaert was glaring at the two members while Adiik swallowed thickly. Tears rose in their eyes.

Their buir wasn’t going to allow them to come back. Their buir was going to punish them for hiding up here for two years. Their buir was going to hurt them for what happened today.

This was the end of their lessons.

Adiik’s buir slowly pushed himself up and collected the baton from Kaert warily. Once he had backed away enough some of his swagger returned. Their buir raised their chin and snarled, “This isn’t the end, aruetii. I’ll get to you next.”

Kaert lurched a single step forward with a growl and Adiik saw and felt the trio of security force members flinch back. Vaar’ika slunk over to his side and Kaert fixed his eyes on Adiik. They smiled through the tears rolling down their cheeks. They both knew what would happen. They both knew what happened next.

“Vor entye, ba’buir,” Adiik whispered and yelped when their buir grabbed their wrist. They were dragged away, tears falling freely.

It was over.

—

Adiik stumbled as their buir shoved them into the house. They hurried to stay ahead of him as the door sealed behind him and he stalked after them with a murderous look. He pointed towards the mountain and roared, “How dare you! That is how you spent your time? Listening to an old fossil like that from the times of the war?”

He grabbed a glass on the table and threw it at Adiik. They ducked with a yelp and the glass shattered against the wall behind them. They flinched as shards pelted them from behind and hoped nothing had pierced his clothes or skin.

“What the-?” their dal’buir appeared in the doorway from the next room. She was still rubbing sleep from her eyes, but she was wide awake when their jag’buir grabbed her by her long hair.

“Did you know Adiik was up in the mountains with that aruetii?” he demanded as she shrieked in pain. He shook her as he pulled her hair further back. “Did you?”

“No! I didn’t! I didn’t know!”

Their jag’buir released her and whirled around in time to see Adiik place the table between themself and him. He sneered at the attempt and twirled his baton in his right hand. Adiik hiccuped a sob as their jag’buir stalked closer to the table.

“You dared to go against me. Do you know how much you humiliated me?” he snarled as he slowly circled the table. Adiik stumbled a little, but did their best to always keep the table between them. “Always you shame me. You’re disgusting. Filth. You deserve everything that happens to you. Everyone should be grateful that I take care of you and try to drill some respect into that thick skull of yours.”

Adiik screamed when hands suddenly grabbed them. They looked up wide-eyed to see their dal’buir. They could feel her trembling, but her grip was firm on their arms as they struggled to break free. Heavy steps made their head whip around to see their jag’buir approaching with a sneer.

No! Nononononononono-!

Their jag’buir slowly wound up with the baton and Adiik screamed their fear, hands scrabbling for anything, any purchase, any-.

A hilt.

Adiik’s fingers curled around the hilt and without thinking, yanked it out.

Multiple things happened at once.

Glass shattered.

Dal’buir screamed, releasing Adiik.

Silver flashed.

Their jag’buir howled with pain and stumbled back, baton clattering to the ground. He pressed his hands to his abdomen and Adiik’s eyes widened when he saw the red seeping through. They staggered back and looked down at their hands. Their beskar dagger, coated in red in their left hand.

“You little-!”

Adiik flinched when their jag’buir lunged forward only for there to be a loud ‘whoosh’. A blue and white figure slammed into their jag’buir, throwing them aside. He collapsed on the ground with a cry of pain while their dal’buir screamed somewhere in the background.

Adiik blinked in a daze as they started to absorb what had happened.

The living room window had been shattered. Adiik had stabbed their jag’buir. And now a Mandalorian stood in their living room after saving them from the retaliation from their jag’buir.

The Mandalorian straightened, glass crunching under their boots. Their beskar armor was painted light blue and white; even the jetpack strapped to their back. Their visor was fixed on Adiik’s jag’buir and they heard a scoff from the vocoder.

“And stay down this time,” they growled and Adiik’s eyes widened at the familiar voice. Even through the vocoder, it had to be!

“Kaert?”

The visor turned to focus on Adiik and they could feel the smirk on his face.

“Here to save the day.”

Adiik sobbed as they threw themself at Kaert. He caught them with a grunt and patted their back. He pulled the bloody dagger from Adiik’s hands and murmured, “You did well. You defended yourself. You’re safe. I’m here.”

They flinched when they heard a shuffling and they pulled the teary face from the cool beskar. Their jag’buir was struggling to get up while pressing a hand to their bleeding abdomen. Their dal’buir hovered beside him and had tears running down her face.

“I’ll kill you for this,” their jag’buir hissed through clenched teeth. Adiik felt cold at his words and their hands curled tightly into Kaert.

“You can try, but I doubt a hut’uun like you would do well against a True Mandalorian,” Kaert taunted him. Adiik’s eyes widened as their buire cursed Kaert. A True Mandalorian? Hadn’t they all been killed? Questions for another time as Kaert looked down at Adiik. They held the dagger out to Adiik and asked, “What do you wish to do Ad’ika?”

Adiik took the dagger hesitantly, glancing between their buire and Kaert.

“What are my choices?”

“Stay here with your buire. Continue to endure their beatings, indifference and twisted sense of love,” Kaert stated their first option in such a cool tone that it made Adiik shiver. The very thought… Their insides twisted with terror.

“The other option?”

“Come away with me,” Kaert said in such a soft tone that the vocoder almost didn’t pick it up. Adiik looked up at him in surprise and Kaert reached up to cup their face with one gloved hand. “I’ll take you away from here. I’ll do my best to raise you and give you everything you deserve. Everything you should have been given, but was robbed by these hut’uune.”

The last part was directed at Adiik’s buire with more venom than they had ever heard from him before it almost distracted them from Kaert’s request.

To leave.

To leave everything behind.

This house.

These parents.

This town.

This world.

This life.

To shed it like the leaves of a tree in winter. To start somewhere new with Kaert and Vaar’ika. A family that actually loved and cared for them. Respected them.

The choice was clear.

Adiik sobbed with relief. They couldn’t even say the words. They just cried and nodded, but Kaert understood. He bowed his head and touched his forehead to Adiik’s.

“Then let us go. Vaar’ika is waiting and I called a friend to pick us up somewhere else.”

A friend. Hopefully, that meant Jango. Adiik nodded and tightened their grip on Kaert’s hand. They only stopped when they heard their jag’buir snarl, “You can’t go! You are mine!”

Adiik turned to look at where their jag’buir lay panting. Their dal’buir nodded quickly, tears rolling down her cheeks.

“You can’t,” she pleaded and Adiik let go of Kaert’s hand to slowly approach them. She shot them a watery smile, reaching out to them with one hand. “I’m your buir. You can’t leave me.”

Adiik stared down at them. Beskar dagger still in their hand. It would be so easy. To return the pain they had given them. Just a fraction of it.

Make them hurt. Make them suffer. They deserve it. Called you a liar. Said you were nothing. That you were filth.

“I have no buire,” Adiik stated softly. Their dal’buir hiccuped in shock at their words and Adiik slipped the beskar dagger back into its sheath. “My buire died long ago when they decided to raise their fists instead of embracing me.”

They took a step back, reaching backwards and found what they were looking for. A warm, gloved hand enveloping theirs.

“I only have my ba’buir.”

They turned away and ignoring the desperate pleading of the woman and the furious roars of the man, Kaert led Akiid to the shattered floor length window. Kaert groaned as he lifted Akiid up into his arms and asked, “Ready, Ad’ika?”

Adiik looked over Kaert’s shoulder one more time. They really were leaving everything behind. They weren’t filled with dread though.

No, they were thrilled.

“Ready, ba’buir.”

Kaert activated his jetpack and took Adiik away.

Far, far away.

—

“Let me get this straight,” Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard drawled. He sounded as if he had the worst headache pounding inside his skull. In this case the headache was sitting across from him in the interrogation room in the form of a 5’5 Mandalorian in blue and red armor. “You were going to 79s with clone troopers Chad and Purse when you saw a girl being handled roughly by a man and you decided to intervene.”

“Yes, Al’verde.”

“I think a beroya of your skill subdued him quickly.”

“That is a fair assumption, Al’verde.”

“Then how do you explain the bruises, cracked bones and broken hand?”

Ah, that was the problem.

Aran shrugged, leaving their arms crossed. Their visor focused on Fox’s visor.

“An accident.”

“‘An accident’,” Fox repeated, disbelief dripping from each word. Aran was almost surprised Fox didn’t vibrate out of his seat with his barely restrained annoyance. Perhaps the exhaustion was acting as a counteragent. “And how did this ‘accident’ happen?”

“He kept falling on my fists. Very clumsy man.”

Fox and Aran just stared at each other. Dimly, Aran was aware of cackling behind the one way mirror.

Fox threw his hands up in the air and pushed himself out of his chair.

“Fine. That’s how we’ll book it,” Fox snarled, grabbing his datapad so hard Aran was afraid it would crack in his grip. Aran flinched when Fox jabbed a finger in their direction. “I will leave this to Cody, but if I hear anything in the next day from you or your vode, I will hunt all of you down!”

“Yes, Al’verde.”

Aran felt the glare Fox was directing their way through the visor before stalking out of the room, snarling curses under his breath. Only then did Aran relax to uncross their arms with a sigh. They shook out their aching hands. After clenching them for so long, they hurt.

“All four of you never cease to make me laugh.”

Aran looked up to see Commander Cody stepping into the interrogation room. They smiled behind their helmet at Cody’s giddy smile and just shrugged. They stood up and murmured, “I just did what was right.”

Cody’s smile fell and Aran watched as they looked him up and down with their sharp eyes.

“This was personal.”

Perceptive as always.

“It was.”

“Hm,” Cody hummed thoughtfully and Aran wanted to move on. They didn’t like talking about it. They started to approach the door when Cody held up a hand. “I was asked to pass along a message from when I came here. A little girl begged me to tell you ‘thank you’. Ran off before I could offer to take her to you personally.”

Aran felt their heart warm.

“She wouldn’t have followed you,” they said and even they could hear the fond smile in their voice. “Adults are liars. They can’t be trusted.”

“Is that what you used to think? Or still think?”

Aran focused on Cody again. They slowly inclined their head at his words.

“Adults will say what they believe or want to be the truth,” Aran answered, tapping a finger against their belt. They missed the weight of their weapons. The Coruscant Guard had taken them earlier. “A father that feels like a failure will tell his family that it is their fault. A mother will accept the blame and tell her children that it is true and to quietly accept the abuse. It’s all lies, but they believe it to be true.”

The two stared at each other until Cody nodded, clapping a hand against Aran’s shoulder.

“We all want to believe the lies we tell ourselves,” Cody said in a somber tone. He shook his head and when he nudged Aran’s arm, his smile had returned. “Now, let’s get your weapons and get out of here. Chad, Kit and Purse are waiting for you outside.”

“Purse probably can’t wait to mock me for taking so long.”

“Purse is also the one too terrified to step look Fox in the eye.”

Aran threw their head back and laughed.

This was right.

Leaving had been hard.

It had also been the best decision Aran had made in their life.

#aran #adiik #ct-chad #purse #that random clone #kit fisto #kaert #jango fett #my ocs #friend's ocs #the only thing that keeps me here is gravity #defying gravity #commander fox #fox #commander cody #cody #bro squad #star wars #cw child abuse #cw domestic abuse #cw violence #cw blood #cw injury #this is the most words i wrote in such a short amount of time #help my hand is cramping #there will be a part two

[monstergoblin]

The Owl Pirates Chapter Nineteen

First Chapter Tumblr Link HERE

Previous Chapter Tumblr Link HERE

Posted First On A03 Here 

It’ll be updated on A03 first and might take me a bit to get to updating it here as I always seem to forget about my tumblr. <3

 Trigger Warnings Always Read Safe: Depression, Suicidal thoughts, Pushing down feelings, Overworking self to ignore feelings, Child Abuse (Belos is a bitch okay), Gaslighting, Self Gaslighting, Manipulation, Injuries

Notes: I'm tired but have a chapter! Again always updated first on AO3.

Chapter 19: Awakening

      The beach Camila woke up on had been an isolated little sand pit between large cliffs. She managed to find a way upward out of it but it led deep into a forest. So she was left to wander hoping to stumble upon any of her crewmates.

      She couldn’t let herself think about any of them dying.

      Especially not her daughter.

      She wondered for a day before climbing a tree for the night. Not the safest thing but more safe than staying on the ground. Then morning came making her realize her priorities needed to be different. Surviving had to be first, her family second. 

      She hoped Luz remembered every survival lesson she had taught her while on board the Talon. Maybe even knew more than Camila after being around Eda for so long. Maybe everyone else was together and it was only Camila alone. That would be a nice thought. Them surviving together.

      They had to be okay.

      Camila was looking for food when she heard the cries of someone ahead.

      “Anyone! Help me!” 

      She ran to the voice quickly. Only stopping when she reached the rope holding a small woman up by her foot.

      Camilas face twisted in disgust as she saw the woman. She looked to be part of the navy crew by her get up. The whole reason any of this happened.

      “You there! Help me down!” The woman screamed.

      “How did you even manage too-” Camila scoffed. “Did you trip your own trap?”

      “It doesn’t matter-” The woman was spinning in a slow circle. Her bangs were forced down by gravity revealing her heterochromia eyes. One yellow and one red. “Help me down now!”

      “You’re not the boss of me.” Camila stated, folding her arms. This woman was part of the navy ship that had threatened her family. Why would she bother helping her- Except Camila was a good person- and this woman was probably only doing her job.

      “Please” The woman hissed out annoyed.

      Camila was half tempted to leave the woman here. She was very rude. However morals were a thing. Camila used her sword and sliced the rope letting the woman drop with a heavy thud. Camila couldn’t help but smirk knowing that hurt.

      “AH Perfect.” The woman picked herself up and dusted herself off. Then she quickly pulled out a dagger pointing it at Camila. “Now give me your sword and belongings!”

      Camila used her own sword to smack the womans hand forcing her to drop her dagger and then Camila kicked the womans leg causing her to fall. 

      “And what if I dont?” Camila asked, pointing her sword to the womans throat.

      “It- It was a jest-” The woman lied.

      “Who are you?” Camila hissed.

      “Kikim-” The woman began but Camila pressed her sword closer to Kikimikis throat not drawing blood but threatening to.

      “You’re the captain!” Camila realized. “You’re the cause of all of this! For what bloodshed? Glory?”

      “You’re pirates-” Kikimiki spit.

      “You’re monsters.” Camila was tempted to do this woman in now. To Kill her- but- “You caused King to have a tantrum didn’t you.”

      “A tantrum!” Kikimiki gasped. “That was hardly a tantrum-”

      Camila glarred

      “I- I- Was doing my job.” Kikimiki stuttered.

      “He’s a child.” Camila snapped. “You must have hurt him to cause a tantrum of that size. What did you do?”

      “I didn’t hurt the siren.” Kikimiki scowled. “If that’s what you mean.” Her eyes went down to the blade at her throat, the only indication the presence of it was actually disturbing her. “Only scared him. Belos wants sirens unharmed for the most part anyway.”

      Belos- it always seemed to come back to that slimy eel of a man. 

      “Fine.” Camila pulled back letting Kikimiki stand but when she reached for her dagger again returned the blade. “You don’t get to have that.” And instead Camila grabbed the dagger.

      “That’s hardly necessary.” Kikimiki stated crossing her arms.

      Camila wanted to kill her- get it done with. She obviously had ill intent. She would deserve it.

      But we can’t always judge people so quickly Mama. I’m sure there’s good in her somewhere.

      Luz had definitely inherited her heart from her father.

      “You are my prisoner.” Camila looked down at the short woman who glared up in response. “Do you understand?”

      “Prisoner?” Kikimiki scoffed. “You aren’t on your ship here. You have no power-”

      “I have a sword.” Camila held it up again. “So you have options. Prisoner or Dead. What will it be?”

      Kikimiki glared at the blade before turning away. “Fine prisoner.”

       -------

      For a boy that has faced death in the face so many times. It never got less scary to Hunter. The same chill always overcame him. The same dread engulfed him. His thoughts flashing wondering if this time his death was worth it or if it had been just another failure on his part. 

      He never did seem to do anything right.

      Hunter had thought he was done for on multiple occasions. Once on his first actual mission put under Raines ship- before that individual betrayed them. Another time after a very reckless accident when Hunter had snuck out late to get extra training in. Or when he walked the plank on Terras ship. This time- he was protecting someone- perhaps that was worth it.

      Everytime he faced down death, Hunters thoughts always seemed to recount his life- his worth- if he had done a good job.

      But this time- his thoughts were on flapjacks.

      Strange to have your last thoughts on pancakes. 

      Hunter didn’t expect to wake up again.

      After all it wasn’t his luck to survive something of this extreme, and yet somehow here he was. Still breathing despite the terrible pain in his side.

      “Don’t move.”

      A command he did not want to obey, but he was only ever good at following orders. He groggily forced his eyes to open and blinked at the light around him. Until his sight focused on the face of the young girl- Luz looking concentrated as her arms worked on something.

      It took Hunter a moment to realize she was working on him. Changing bandages around him.

      “Where-” He started to ask, realizing they were in some sort of cabin room. He was on a bed of sorts propped up by pillows. 

      “Abandoned hut on the top of a hill.” Luz answered more focused on treating Hunter then answering his questions. “I’m almost done- if you move you’ll reopen it.”

      Hunter dared to look down at his torso, where Luz was wrapping the bandages- actual bandages probably found in this cabin. He couldn’t make out blood but Luz had hidden most of the wound from sight. It was almost more worrying not knowing how bad his own wound was- Hunter was used to knowing at the very least- he had to treat his own after all.

      “What happened?” He asked looking back up at the ceiling trying to ignore how strange it felt to have someone else treating him.

      “Both ships went down.” Luz explained. “King had a tantrum- uh- he can summon storms.” She hastily added, realizing Hunter's lack of knowledge on the siren. “I don’t know what happened exactly- how you ended up like this- or how you survived- you had to have lost so much blood.”

      “How long was I out?”

      “Three days. I stitched you up the best I could, but it’s nothing like Steve's work.” Luz pulled back inspecting her work. Then she helped Hunter lay down again and when he tried to protest scolded with,  “If you stand up, so help me, I will let you bleed out.”

      “Okay.” Hunter was not one to enjoy resting. It made him far too anxious just laying down staring at the ceiling. “Is it just you?”

      “Haven’t found anyone else.” Luz sighed. “If anyone else is alive.”

      As she said it, that’s when Hunter seemed to really look at the girl. Luz who had always been the bright happy naive one on the ship- or at the very least pretended to be. She had bags under her eyes now, looked anxious and exhausted. 

      “Have you slept?” Hunter didn’t know why he asked it. He was a hypocrite in asking of course the girl wouldn’t want to sleep. Her crew was possibly out there- but she was stuck here- taking care of him.

      It made him stomach turn realizing how much he was holding her back.

      “Yeah.” Luz lied sitting back in the chair she was in. 

      Hunter scoffed looking away. He wasn’t about to call her out on it- what would he do after all- he couldn’t exactly force her to sleep. Not when he was stuck laying still.

      “You hungry?” Luz stood up, probably to nervous to keep still herself.

      Hunter only nodded in response.

      “I can’t promise a kings feast.” Luz gave a weak smile. “But any request while I go scavenge.”

      “Pancakes.” Hunter half joked looking at the girl.

      “I was thinking more of fruit or meat.” Luz let out a half hearted chuckle. “If I find some random pancakes though I’ll be sure to grab them.”

      And with that she left him in the little cabin.

      Alone.

      He hadn’t realized how much he’d grown to hate the feeling of being left behind.

      Of being a burden.

      He had to lay still as he was sure Luz’s job of stitching him up was terrible and he just needed to let it heal a little more- possibly- or he could risk it and get up.

      The idea was tempting. It was just a stab wound. Not like he hadn’t been stabbed numerous times before.

      But he was still awfully tired.

      From the bed he could make out a little of the outside out of the broken window. The bird singing in the trees just outside. An overgrown bench underneath it with some sort of engraving on it Hunter couldn’t make out from his distance. It had all the signs of one time being a very beautiful place to live.

      His stomach growled in protest.

      Flapjacks did sound awfully good right now.

      Of course he would settle for whatever Luz found.

       ------

     She had awoken on a beach three days ago, where she had found Hunter. She had used her bandanna as a makeshift bandage and had spotted the cabin up on the cliff from below. She had hoped someone was there but had found it empty. At least it had all the supplies to fix him up- even if crudely.

      During the time he was out Luz had taken to collecting necessities nearby, Water and food. Truthfully she had left food in the cabin where Hunter was at now- but she needed to get out of the cabin anyway. It was too nerve wracking to stay with Hunter and simply care for him- but she wasn’t going to leave him to die.

      She managed to find some peaches today. Collecting them in a bag she had found in the cabin as well. 

      The cabin supposingly belonged to someone according to the journal she had found. Someone named Caleb. Truthfully his handwriting was shit and interpreting it was taking far too much time for Luz to do with all her anxiety of the moment. So, she left the journal in the cabin with Hunter. She might try to read it later to pass time- to try and worry about anything else than her crewmates fates.

      A small hoot made Luz look up. A tiny owl was perched in a branch of a tree staring at her.

      “Owlbert!” She cheered on the verge of tears already. She hadn’t seen any sign of the crew in so long and even the littlest relief was enough for her. “Where’s Eda.” She looked around for the owls' owner. If the owl wasn’t sleeping he was usually following her.

      Owbert hooted again and flew down to perch and nuzzle Luzs neck.

      “Ah.” She realized, her hope extinguishing. “I see- you’re alone too.”

      Owlbert only quietly nuzzled her more, as if to say ‘I’m sorry.’

      Luz gave the little owl a pat. “Well- It’s okay” She lied. “I found Hunter- He’s hurt- so he’s laying down- but he’s safe too.” She wasn’t sure if she was trying to assure the little owl or herself more.

      Owlbert seemed to take interest in this as he leapt up and flew around Luz excitedly.

      A loud growl made Luz freeze. She turned to look around for whatever made the noise, but there was nothing.

      It had been a good distance away.

      Luz took a small inhale and patted her shoulder for Owlbert to come perch again. As quietly as she could manage she made her way back to the cabin.

      Whatever made that growling noise sounded angry, and hungry. Luz did not want to risk another injury in their already half injured duo. If both she and Hunter were down, how would they survive?

      As the cabin came more into view, the more safe Luz started to feel. Making distance between the unseen beast and herself. She entered the cabin with the peaches and dropped them into the chair, handing one to Hunter.

      He didn’t say a word as he sat up slightly- she did not miss the wince of pain on his face as he did so, but she was polite enough not to comment.

      “Well it’s not pancakes-” Luz gave a smile. “But they’re pretty good either way.”

      “I’ll just have to pretend then.” Hunter gave a smile back.

      They both could tell the other's smile was fake.

      They both could tell the other was exhausted and anxious.

      But they both silently agreed, not to talk about it.

       -------

      The growling was becoming more frequent now. Amity and Edric had to leave their makeshift protection to escape from whatever beast had decided the area was their territory.

      “Amity.” Edric whispered, putting a hand on Amitys shoulder to stop her. She looked back to him and he pointed ahead to where some shadow of a creature was prowling.

      It was large with wings sprouting out of its fluffy back.

      Amity nodded in understanding, being sure to be quiet as they changed their path to avoid the owlbeast.

      They ended up setting traps around their next makeshift campsite, large noisy traps that the beast wouldn’t be able to miss.

      “I hope Emiras alive.” Edric said as they rested by the fire, even if it was a spotlight for the beast to find them, they still needed to stay warm. Especially with the nights getting this cold.

      “We can’t talk like that.” Amity muttered. “They’re all alive. They have to be.”

      Edric put a hand on Amity shoulder and she looked up to him. He gave a soft smile.

      “You’re right.” It was a simple thing to say.

      Simple enough that Amity knew they both didn’t believe each other.

      She couldn’t help her eyes starting to water.

      “Things were just going so good-” She spit, angry at fate, the navy, or just pure luck she didn’t know. “Our relationship with Dad was getting better- We were so close to saving Raine- Everyone was happy- and - and hopeful- and Luz and I-” She curled in on herself fighting the urge to scream out hateful things at their situation. “They- They have to be okay.”

      “Mittens-” Edric pulled her into a hug. “I hope they are too.” 

      She couldn’t see it, but she could hear Edric sniffling and crying- he never was the type to silently cry, always making as much noise as possible. Usually for dramatic effect- but this- this was real.

       “Wha- what do we do if-if they aren’t?” The words burned as she said them.

       Edric didn’t respond, only squeezed her tighter. 

      Then they would be alone.

      The two of them. Stuck on and island with some sort of monster prowling around. 

      And then what?

      Hope by chance some ship comes by that doesn’t recognize them as owl pirates or at the very least have enough pity to take in two children.

      No, they had to be alive.

      They had to make it off this island together.

      They were The Owl Pirates after all.

      Every one of them was stubborn as hell.

      A loud snap made Amity pull away from her brother. They both jumped up ready to fight whatever beast made its way to their camp. Whatever followed their fire to find them.

      But instead Amity saw a familiar man standing before them looking equally shocked to see them.

      “Dad?” Edric asked.

     And Amity couldn’t run fast enough to tackle the man in a hug.

      He was alive.

      They were alive.

      They all had to be alive.

      Alador only squeezed her back and pretty soon Amity felt Edric joining in on the hug.

      “Where’s Emira.” Alador asked looking over both the childrens heads.

      “We don’t know.” Amity answered as Edric was still sobbing into their fathers arms. 

      As they pulled away Amity could see others standing with her father. Harvey was anxiously playing with his arms behind Alador, dread and worry on his features. Besides him Steve didn’t look much better fiddling with the sword in his hands.

       The three of them looked like they hadn’t rested in days.

      Amity and Edric probably didn’t look much better.

      “We can’t be too loud.” Steve said. “There’s something lurking around here.”

      “We know.” Amity nodded. “We set traps.”

      “Traps.” Alador seemed impressed. “Very resourceful.”

      Amity looked to her brother- who had been the one to think of the traps, and to know even how to make them properly function.

      “I know, He is.” She knew he needed to hear it. Even if he was still too much of a mess to properly play up his reaction to it. Instead he could only stand there wiping his tears away trying- and failing- to not sob like a child.

       ------

      Luz left again shortly after bringing him peaches. Left him alone in the cabin with orders to stay in bed. This time she said she’d be gone longer. Said it could be night before she got back as she was going to scan the area for threats or survivors.

      It was her job to look out after all wasn’t it.

      It still made Hunter feel useless.

      There was a journal sitting on the table next to him. Something Luz had put there to allow him some form of entertainment while she was away. Told him it would occupy his time if he could translate the messy scribbles the previous owner had called handwriting.

      It wasn’t exactly Rulers Reach- which he was upset he didn’t get to finish- but it was something.

      So he laid in the bed trying to figure out this Caleb guys handwriting.

      He wrote a lot about this Everlin- Everlyn- Evelyn- this Evelyn chick. How wonderful she was and apparently she was a pirate. Hunter was merely scanning the pages as he flipped through the crude handwriting.

      Wasn’t like he wouldn’t have time to decipher the journal later anyway.

      Caleb was more of an artist than a writer. Hunter noticed by the little drawings on several pages. Mostly of this Evelyn lady- that looked vaguely familiar- perhaps he read a book about her.

      The drawing that made him stop mindlessly flipping through the pages was of a bird. A little cardinal sitting looking up at the reader.

      The handwriting was the best Hunter had seen in the entire journal.

      “Huh-” He said aloud. “Flapjack.”

      A light came from the necklace around his neck. Hunter looked down with wide eyes as the little pendant glowed and transformed into a small red bird. Looking up at him with one good eye.

      ‘Caleb?’

      How fate would lead Hunter to the cabin of the previous owner of the necklace.

      “Hunter.” Hunter corrected as the little red bird chirped and jumped up onto his head.

      ‘Caleb’s son?’ the bird chirped, turning its head.

      It wasn’t speaking any language, which was the weird part- how Hunter understood the chirping he hadn't a clue.

      “No- I don’t know Caleb.” Hunter explained looking up at the bird. “Just Hunter.”

      ‘Hurt?’ The bird flapped its way down to land next to Hunter's bandaged side. ‘Boy hurt? Not safe?’

      “I’m safe now.” Hunter assured. “Sort of.”

      Hunter put the journal back on the table now much more fixated on the little red bird.

      ‘Calebs journal!’ The bird chirped. ‘You liar- are Calebs son- looks just like him.’

      “No, I’m not.” Hunter stated sitting up slightly and wincing.

      ‘Bad Hunter!’ The bird scolded. ‘Caleb would be disappointed in his son- take care of self!’

      “I don’t know Caleb.” Hunter reaffirmed. 

      ‘Take care of self anyway.’ The bird remarked.

      “I am.” Hunter scoffed. “Whats your name anyway? Was it Flapjack?”

      ‘Yes- Flapjack!’ The bird puffed out its chest.

      Flapjack was interesting. A small little necklace turned into a bird. With so much personality, as if the thing was actually alive.

      It really did feel alive.

      "A bird." Luz was in the doorway her hands full of old supplies that must've drifted ashore during the wreckage. She looked more tired than when she had left. Her hair and clothes was still wet  so she must've had to swim for them. 

      Hunter looked up from Flapjack. He had taken to talking with the bird about random things. At the moment about Rulers Reach, as the bird seemed interested and he had yet to spill out all the rush of reading the story to anyone- besides Lilith- yet.

      "Flapjack." Hunter held up his hand the the little bird perched on it with a chirp.

      'Look at me human girl!' Flapjack puffed out his chest. 'I'm his new pet!'

      "Did he wander in?" Luz asked putting down the supplies on one of the desks. She didn't seem to pay the bird any mind as he spoke, perhaps only Hunter could hear him.  

      "He was my necklace." Hunter explained.

      "Oh." Luz looked back at the little bird. She held out her hand for him to jump to hers.

      'No- Getting to know my boy.' Flapjack turned his head to look back at Hunter. 'Tell her I don't want to talk to her- I want to talk to you!'

      "Uh-" Hunter gave a little smile to Luz who didn't really seem to care that the bird did not want anything to do with her.

      'Tell me about your friends.' Flapjack chirped looking to Hunter.

      "I think I can manage one more run-" Luz pondered out loud. "before dark."

      Hunter wanted to tell Luz to sit for a bit, at least. To rest and relax so she didn't end up collapsing outside on her own.

      'Don't look sad.' Flapjack demanded he turned to Luz who was walking out the door. 'Oh' then back to Hunter. 'I stop her no worries.'

      "Ow- Let go!" Luz complained as Flapjack pulled at her hair to keep her from leaving. "Stop it!" She tried to pull her hair out of the little birds beak. "I need to-"

      Flapjack managed to pull Luz so she stumbled backwards landing in a chair. Then he perched happily on her head looking to Hunter with a proud smirk- if birds could smirk.

      "I guess I'm not leaving then." Luz sighed. "Did you train him to do that?" She looked to Hunter accusingly.

      Hunter only shrugged with an awkward smile unsure how to explain what just happened.

      Though he thinks he could get quite use to Flapjack around.

#Mine #My Writing #the owl house #Toh #the owl house pirate au #the owl house au #toh au #toh fic #mine #toh #toh hunter #toh luz #toh pirate au #the owl house pirate #pirate fic #pirate au

[hellinglasses]

@blackberrywars my dear my darling I took a few days to reply cause I’m a certified Mess but by all means please Know I was ecstatic upon seeing this. welp, here it goes

10 fandoms, 10 characters, 10 tags

in no particular order of belovedness:

1. the witcher: it too is lambert. my ashdnoijskplfgeiotrsd. a sdbdiunfaodjpksapl, if you will. I want to wrap this baby in blankets even though he will probably bite my hand for the trouble I dared to inflict to him. I’ll cherish it when he does and then feed him ice cream.

2. our flag means death: it’s the angry little rat man for me. israel my beloved I want to give you head pats. I want to feed you soup. I want to drag you through horrible things and then surround you with Love, actually

3. the simarillion and holy hell what even to call this fandom assorted mess: maedhros. the first time I read from you my hear went sdugbuahjikoalbdsnmf and I have loved you ever since, even as canon whump you and yours so terribly and half the fandom will spit the dirt upon hearing your name. I wish I had it in me to actually write that fic to you.

4. good omens: aziraphale. I could never put into words how badly I love you and see myself on you, even as I don’t love all my parts I sure love yours. you’re kind, but aloof, loving but afraid, giving yet self-indulgent, feral but covered in just enough veneer one must work for it to perceive it, to perceive you. and of course, an entire bitch (affectionate)

5. clowntown: richie tozier, you utter shit, you desperate loud fucker. you passed me by when I first met you, a single line to my friends about how I liked the sweary one, but then, years later, fandom made me fall in love with you. I guard your insecurites as my own, but nonetheless your joy, found upon finally cherishing yourself amongst your found family of queer weirdos.

6. steven universe: pearl. you’re a powerhouse, sweetheart. I rember the days before the show progressed, how I used to think of this lowly servant who met the handsomest quartz soldier and how they fell in love and started a revolution hellbent in changing their world. a socialist revolution if you will, it was also the time I was just growing into my own and discovering that too. you still mean the world to me, beloved.

7. gravity falls: stan pines. I’m a mabel myself, and you’re still my favorite. you’re so full with love and loyalty, my darling, even as one must really look behind first sights. you’re entirely love, full to the bursting

8. scooby doo: daphne. for the longest time I couldn’t figure out whether I wanted to be you or gvdshabsnjikolpçfhdjioks. I would play pretend at being you before I had breakfast, tiny and dragging around bedsheets imagining it was the most incredible purple gown. I remember my mom telling me to just imagine, no need to make for more laundry.

9. hannibal: the primadonna himself. baby invented homoerotic muder as courting, being soft while covered in blood and also Pining, actually. random headcanon no one asked for but is getting anyway is that if they live or die after the cliff, that’s will’s choice to make. hannibal left alone for florence, and was miserable. let himself get caught because he couldn’t bear to leave without him again. he would be happy to just die by his side. after all, it’s beautiful.

10. the akallabeth (it’s not cheating if it can be found as a separate book, is it? bwejknqdiwjose): mairon. you might know him as sauron, an epithet meaning “the abhorred”, or even as gorthaur, “the cruel”. but that’s the name he gave himself, it means “admirable”, or even tar-mairon, meaning “king excellent”. babygirl has the range of the entire reputation album, as I sing along loudly to I did something bad and imagine it over and over as I picture the fall of numenor -- I never trust a narcisist, but they love me. can you imagine, arriving a despised prisioner, manipulating your way to giving counsel to the king, and then establishing yourself as the high priest of a religion in honor of your fallen husband? bitch is so messy and I am full of love.

well okay so I regularly talk to literally two people in this godforsaken site and one literally tagged me in this so I’m just gonna tag the other and then a bunch of beloved mutuals I keep seeing in my notes and hope they don’t mind me too badly so

@tediousdelusion, @soundfanatic, @marcato-meumew, @alllthequeenshorses, @sardonicsymphonic, 

#a few notes on Thoughts I had writing this #god I wish I could write as good as those bbys deserve #me realizing I put both izzy and pearl into the list: oh #canon can die a violent death please and thank you #is it really repeating a fandom if the characters also shows in lotr but not really? #mutuals please know I think of you as friends and smile every time I see you in my notes but you can 100% ignore this if you want to okay #oh damn I have taylor swift songs assigned to SO MANY of these blorbos feel free to message me about it

[autumnalwalker]

Trick or treat! 🍬

Thank you for the ask.

Assuming this is referring to this Trick-Or-Treat ask game.

As a Treat, here's something for an Empty Names character who's had an impact on most of the cast without ever actually appearing in the story so far:

Carnette Bridgewood's Guide to Becoming Your Local World Cluster's Most Powerful Mage and Making Reality Your Bitch:

Realize that magic exists and that you are capable of doing it. Theoretically speaking, literally anyone can do this, although environmental conditions can affect how easy or difficult it is. All that nonsense about special bloodlines, magical destinies, the shapes of souls, or inherent "sparks" of magic is just sophomoric overcomplication of a simple principle. All that is required to become a mage is believing strongly enough you are. To internalize this as a fact of existence as inherent as gravity or your possession of a physical body. In time it will become more true than either of those.

Enjoy your first steps into bending reality to your will. If you ever stop enjoying what you do at any point in the process of following this guide, take a break from whatever you're doing and go on a holiday to reconnect with that joy. The burdens of power and the archetypal narrative of your abilities being a curse are traps. Don't fall for them.

Don't blow yourself up*.

Realize that any supposed rules of magic and the plethora of magic systems practiced by countless mages across different worlds are all bullshit. There is only one rule of magic, to wit, "Perception dictates reality." This is true both on the small scale of individual perception and the large scale of collective consciousness of all sapient beings. You must learn to manipulate both. If you are to become truly great you must internalize this lesson to the same degree that you internalized your identity as a mage.

Once again, don't blow yourself up.

Acquire knowledge and mastery of many different magic systems. Yes, I just said they are all bullshit, but they are useful bullshit. Your understanding of their bullshittery will eliminate the usual barriers to entry to learning them that everyone else locks themselves out with and will eventually allow you to ignore their inbuilt limitations when they don't suit you. Playing along with the widely-accepted charade of these systems' rules will allow you to tap into the collective consciousness that believes in them, thus setting everyone else's will to work with you rather than against you when practicing your magic, thus increasing your power output.

Begin mixing and matching aspects of different magic systems. It is good practice for making up your own rules from scratch later and (just as important, if not more so) everyone will find it cool and impressive.

Seriously, don't blow yourself up.

Build a reputation as being a powerful mage. Ideally, you've been working on this before now, but this is where you should really be kicking that into high gear and making it into your primary focus. You already believe that you can do anything; now you need to make everyone else believe that too. The more people that see you as an unusually powerful mage, the more that perception will be integrated into the collective consciousness and consensus reality. Eventually outright breaking or making up the supposed "rules" of magic, physics, time, math, or psychology will become easy as the will of everyone who believes in your reputation as a powerful mage is added to your own will.

As the culmination of the previous step, find out who else is most commonly considered "the most powerful mage". If there is no consensus on that, identify a historical great.

Make an extremely public showing of surpassing the target you identified in the previous step. Going after a living rival? Discredit their theorems. Make better constructs, potions, and art. Duel them if you have to. If they do not accept you as their better and become proud to call themself your ally, then humiliate and crush them so thoroughly that they can never rise again and none would dare touch them for fear of being dragged down to their level by association. Setting yourself up against a historical figure? Find out everything they were famous for and do it better. If they were hated, undo their legacy and heal the scares they left behind until they fade into obscurity. If they were loved, make yourself seen as the one true successor to that love.

Do whatever you want. You are the most powerful mage in the world. Reality is your toy to have your way with. Have fun. If you get bored with it all that's a skill issue. Enjoy your life and don't blow yourself up.

Stay out of my turf.

*In this context, "blow yourself up" is to be considered a shorthand for any of the innumerable ways in which your use of magic may result in the cessation of your conscious existence (death, vegetative states, fates worse than death, etc.) whether by your own hand or another's.

#writeblr #writers on tumblr #answered asks #writeblr trick or treat 2023 #writeblr trick or treat #writeblr community #ask #empty names

[misseviehyde]

TANKED UP

Part of Molly knew this was wrong - but it felt far too good to stop now.

She'd found the isolation tank in the basement of the house her family had moved into.

It was a single occupancy tank and full of a rich liquid with enough specific gravity that one could float unaided within it. Sensory deprivation would ensue, leaving you isolated from every other influence.

Molly was scared of the tank - yet fascinated by it. She was an overweight college student with self esteem issues. Anxiety had left her almost crippled, yet somehow the tank seemed to offer the promise of something greater.

She couldn't explain why she had begun using the tank. She couldn't really put her finger on why she began to immerse herself more and more often - but she did.

It made her feel numb.

It made her feel soooo deliciously numb.

Floating in the darkness, alone with only her own thoughts, she felt the same delicious numbing action on her body.

It felt good to go numb. Numb to suffering, numb to kindness, numb to sympathy.

Her emotions became colder, crueler, more selfish. When she came out of the tank she felt stronger, fitter and more dominant.

At first she thought the effects were just psychological - but she soon realised her use of the tank was changing her physically too.

Her body was getting slimmer, fitter, sexier. It felt so fucking good.

She could feel the tank making her evil. As she floated in the darkness, the darkness looked back into her. It spoke to her.

Be a bitch. Be bad. Be mean. Be cruel.

Her friends were nothing. Her family were an annoyance. She was all that matters.

The more isolated she became from others, the more complete she felt. Other people were just toys to manipulate and get pleasure from.

Molly loved how the tank made her feel. She didn't need anyone else anymore. She was all that mattered.

Her tits got bigger, her nails longer. She became impossibly beautiful and flawless. Her intelliegence increased.

The tank was making her into everything she always wanted to be.

"Yessssss... fucking take it all away," she moaned as she floated in the tank and plotted how she would destroy her friends, ruin her family and have all the things she wanted.

She didn't need much. Just money, sex and power. Everything else was just numb emptiness to her now.

The tank had isolated her from every shred of empathy. She was now a pyschotic, flawless, evil bitch. It felt so good

Molly was fully tanked up and she was here to stay.

#evie hyde #bitchification #f2f transformation #f2f corruption #isolation tank

[nozomijoestar]

9, 10, 13 & 16

@scalproie | meme

\\\\\

9. worst part of canon

I can't stand a work that is lazy, where it's evident it's full of itself. Works that talk a lot and get pretentious a lot but have nothing to say; double if they're trying to rip off/homage other works that used their tools better, as if wearing someone's skin alone makes you as capable and just like them. Basically too much ego and too much capitalist dick sucking, work that doesn't allow itself to show or have vulnerability, that key part of raw humanity. Something that is about Man but not A Man, and has lost any hope of having a universal message or feeling or even aesthetic connection as a result. Something that wants to make everyone happy and ends up reinforcing vile behavior or oppressive systems because in trying to appeal to everyone, all it did was become better propaganda.

10. worst part of fanon

Aside from the eternal plague that is reader x canon fics, it's both how white dominated it can be, and how often it brings out the worst of all humanity is capable of. Every evil a human being can commit is expressed wrapped in the pretty packaging of words like Community and Acceptance and Charity- as it purposefully degrades people of color, salutes racism as its flag, glorifies abuse and rape and incest and pedophilia and grooms people into life long trauma, centers ego, misunderstands and refuses to understand art, sees art as commodity, and is built on enshrining predators of every kind from all walks of life. Crabs in the capitalist bucket.

13. worst blorboficiation

I have to talk about this I have to but like there are two big ones and the most obvious one is FF/XIV's Em/t Se/ch because fascist eugenicist imperialism inventing dictator who the story goes out of its way to wooby even in his death- which speaks to how overwhelmingly white or deranged FF fans tend to run BUT that's the low hanging fruit

The one I truly don't understand is G'r/ha T/a, the fact that I even have to censor his name because his fans need mental help and they will kill you or like cut off their own skin and toes for their shrines and whatever (I have seen things, I have seen things, and most of them are pedophiles too and manipulative and abusive it is a trend, not an absolute but a trend)

But this man like he can do anything and people say he's just a little baby, he's just their little skrunckly blorbo bestie and I'm like bitch...this man gambled with the player's life and gambled with their npc friend's lives for his schemes, you ALL could have easily DIED, AND HE DIDN'T EVEN TELL YOU AND WHEN HE DOES HE GIVES THE FAKEST APOLOGY THAT CENTERS HIM AS STILL BEING RIGHT FOR IT, because he didn't want to worry and cause problems for people if they knew and he didn't want anyone going off script and he's always guilting people into taking pity on him with these wishy washy apologies every time he manipulates or imposes on people he's even like Oh The Solution To This Problem Would Be My Suicide Ohh How Awful But Necessary *hint hint nudge nudge* so that another npc can be like Oh No Don't Do That We'll Find Another Way! My Vaste in the corner like No You Should Kill Yourself... Now!

Like even the way you first meet him he knows the gravity of what you're looking for and he STILL wants to force you on a wild goose chase for his ego and for the sillies and when he introduces himself he's like Wasn't I So Quirky? about it. Then also he barely knows you; you knew each other for like a few days before he sealed himself in the tower, then when an alternate timeline version of him is freed he spends A HUNDRED YEARS trying to snatch you into his house. Like WHAT? WHAT? I'VE KNOWN YOU FOR FIVE SECONDS AS COWORKERS MF WTF IS WRONG WITH YOU. He never gives you a REAL apology or learns from anything in retrospect.

And also the game NEVER gives you any options to disagree with him, you can at least tell Em/t off but for all the shady shit this fucker did the game physically will not allow you to be upset with him for his actions EVER. You're supposed to always just understand it was for something bigger than you and never take genuine or lasting issue with any wrongs. Or even mention them again. And I say this too because literally after he just gambled your life away and is manipulating and hiding things from you- HE STILL BEGS THAT YOU BE HIS FRIEND AND THAT YOUR ARE HIS FRIEND AND YOU SHOULD TAKE HIM WITH YOU, BECAUSE HE LITERALLY HAS NO LIFE OUTSIDE OF STALKING AND WORSHIPING THE PLAYER. HE HAS NO GOALS THAT DON'T INVOLVE THE PLAYER.

His ENTIRE personality revolves around being someone who saves chewing gum someone they like spat out so they can sniff it in their room but if that was supposed to be heroic and sweet. People get on Lili in Tekken with Asuka? YOU PEOPLE DON'T KNOW CRAZY, OK. MOST OF YOU JUST HATE WOMEN. There was even an interview with the lead writer who made him and she's like she would prefer if everyone loves him so this blorbo shit started from the source and has only gotten worse. I have lost contact with people for not playing into it, I have seen anyone who criticizes him even if they like him get bashed. JUST THE OTHER DAY- someone told me they're LITERALLY SCARED, FOR REAL SCARED of ever posting ANY negative words about him. People even write their CHARACTERS as being scared to say anything bad about him. I can post the receipt.

His fans are not even blorboing him at this point this is psychotic episode shit and I can say that as someone who suffers psychotic episodes and delusions in real life.

The cult around this man is mental illness levels of breaking down. He even steals your player chance in game to recreate a scene from the EW expac trailer where in the trailer it's supposed to be the player stand in who saves Alisae! Also he keeps you in the dark then tries killing himself in front of you as a sacrifice because he wanted it to be a dramatic reveal of his undying love etc etc. He's a complete sniveling little manipulative creep who treats lives like chess pieces he's entitled to. AND he has the nerve to be fucking ugly as shit too. He looks like a botox car crash.

I can't STAND the blorbofication the ONLY reason that could've happened is because the average MMO player is already a megalomaniac and egocentric so they love the thought of having someone who unconditionally licks their ass crack, no matter what they do or who they are by their actions. He's also such a non-character from a writing perspective; the moment you remove the W/oL from his equation there is no character left. But this also makes his sole literary function as the Adoring Fan But If He Kept Dead Bodies Dressed As You In His Closet all the more obvious and readable.

Listen the best way I can say it is like, CANON G'rah/ is the worst of what FANON Emilie "Lili" de Rochefort is. And he doesn't even have the potential justifications or restraint (Lili having restraint, LILI; Queen Faggot herself!) or narrative points of canon Lili toward Asuka. He's just 100% a controlling presumptive turd from the beginning. And people blorbo this behavior because they think it's cute. They think possessiveness and self destruction and unthinking projection is cute and quirky and zany. And probably because from those I've spoken with it seems like no one has ever loved them irl so now they think this is love and what they're entitled to. He's that Weird Al song 'Do I Creep You Out?' played straight.

The game also makes stalkers cute with how it treats Nashu's stalker in the Hildy quests. This game is just really terrible tbh outside of playing dress up and killing things.

16. you can't understand why so many people like this thing (characterization, trope, headcanon, etc)

A lot of the popular general fandom tropes that have endured and are considered classic, a lot of them revolve around taking control and autonomy away from people for how "cute" it could be. Do you ever notice that? There's this sort of codified list for how to find joy in envisioning stand-ins for people are if they were your dolls, where everything goes wrong for them and they don't have choices outside those you make for them. I feel like this is a common thread in the psyche of most people who turn to fandoms, especially hard fans. There seems to be a subconscious desire to control and force their will on people around them, because often they are powerless and are looking for a place of absolute power. In being bullied they have become a bully.

[spookyscaryskeleton-creepypasta]

Meant to be- disclaimer and character info

=

-I don't own anything but one of the oc's which is my oc Tara

-This is Dsmp and Sbi, this is also an AU so a lot of the characters will have changes to their personality; also, some characters will not follow their story from the original lore so some events will be altered, removed, or made to be pre-dsmp to fit this AU [for example, I'm not going to have Wilbur die so there's no ghostbur nor revivebur. I know, I know, you'll see why though]

-This is actually not Passerine, this is just Dsmp

-This is for entrainment purposes

-No sexual content (may allude to sexual stuff however and there may be sexual jokes, making out intensely, and groping)

-16+

-Strong language

-cringy and corny

=

[This is what Tara looks like I don't own this photo]

- She is described by those she meets as "The most beautiful woman to exist". Her name has many meanings, Queen, Star, Goddess of the sea, and Diamond. She is a beautiful young woman with a slender yet curvaceous physique, a big bust. She has long and beautiful reddish-brown/auburn hair that ends midback, pale skin, and her eyes are a beautiful teal. She has a beautiful figure as well (her measurements are Bust 85 cm (34) Waist 56 cm (22) Hips 85 cm (33) Bra Size 34 DD (E) Cup). She is very tall in height, about 6’1. Tara has major resting bitch face, slightly seen in the photo above.

-Anyways, just some facts about her so the story will be a little less confusing, she was apart of the Goddess race before being like Elizabeth of being human and having her Goddess powers.

-Tara was there during the Holy War 3000 years ago since she was apart of the Goddess race. She actually was powerful much like the archangels, and was friends with them (or at least some of them, she hated Ludociel). She has six wings (yes, six) and like the archangels had a gift bestowed upon her by the Supreme Deity. Her gift was rain,

Grace: Rain- Tara has been bestowed a Grace by the Supreme Deity known as Rain. The user can create, shape and manipulate rain, liquid water in the form of droplets that have condensed from atmospheric water vapor and then precipitated, ie. become heavy enough to fall under gravity. Rain is a major component of the water cycle and is responsible for depositing most of the fresh water on the Earth. Forms of rain/rainfall include drizzle, light showers, downpours and monsoons. This also includes forms such as hail, ice, storms, and snow. She can manipulate water as well. This allows her to produce, control, and manipulate water. She can use the water in a variety of different ways, such as producing blades of water that can even slice through solid rock and metal, creating boiling beams, forming waves of tremendous power and force to damage her opponents, or even trapping opponents in mini-prisons made of her water. Her Grace is greatly amplified when she is in an emotional state (for example, extreme anger), to the point where she could easily overpower Mael/Estarossa.

- Anyways, Tara is actually older than she looks, she is over 4000 years old while she looks like she's 20. During the Holy War, Tara was very much a pacifist. She refused to kill, some thought she was like Mael when he was a child and couldn't kill a bug. However, they were very wrong. You see Tara was fully capable of killing especially with being as powerful as she is, and instead decided to bring peace. She was a lot like Elizabeth, she wanted to save the enemy not kill them and befriend all the races, bring an end to the war, she wanted to bring harmony. She was very good friends with Gerheade and stayed in the Fairy King's Forest with her. She even became good friends with Rou.

- When the humans betrayed Stigma, she refused to kill the humans because of her pacifist nature and instead let them torture her. One pair of her wings was ripped from her back, another was cut off, and the last pair was slashed and broken. She was stabbed in the side, back, and stomach. One of her eyes was taken like Gerheade. Rou killed the human before more damage was done. She tried to stop Gloxinia from killing him but failed. She died a few moments after with Gerheade in her arms.

- However, a good friend of hers felt pity on her and decided to perform two spells on the deceased goddess. Tensei no Izanai and Yokubou no Jigen (dimension of desires is what I google translated, sorry if it isn't correct). Tara was to be reincarnated as a human with all of the memories of her past life as a goddess as well have her goddess powers. She was then sent to another dimension where her hearts deepest desires would be fulfilled.

[Anyways, onto some of her powers]

Ark: An archetypal magic technique of the Goddess Clan which creates light particles. It can be used in different ways such as energy explosions or extremely large blades. It is mainly used to counteract darkness by disintegrating it with light, but it also can cause great physical damage to the targets. In battle, Tara has been shown to be capable of manifesting a large Ark blade, it's a lot like Elizabeth's when she used it against the Demon King and her mother in the final stages of the Holy War. She can actually create force fields/barriers/domes from her Ark.

Let There Be Light: Tara crosses her arms, firing off drill-shaped projectiles purifying massive darkness and extracting it from the target, including the Indura form of the Demon Clan and reverting their hosts to their original form. It also can eliminate any lingering hatred the dead may leave behind that prevents them from fully passing on as well.

Invigorate: By channeling her healing power trough Ark, Tara can counteract negative effects, such as severe injuries either caused physical damage or miasma, to even strong poisonous acid. It can also recover health and stamina or clear a mind full of intense negative emotions such as hatred and madness. This power has the opposite effect on Demons when not controlled enough, hurting them and repelling their power.

Tranquilize: By raising both arms, Tara can create a purifying mist strong enough to expel centuries-worth of demonic miasma out of the target.

Healing: Tara possesses incredible healing abilities, much stronger than Elizabeth's and the archangels. She's able to heal multiple kingdoms, villages, and large groups of people all at once on the brick of death. She was able to slightly heal Gerheade, but since she was moments from dying herself she was only able to prevent Gerheade from dying.

Purge: A technique that erases "abominable" souls, such as vampires and demons. This technique was passed down to the Druids.

Breath of Bless: A spell that only a high-ranking Goddess could use. The user gathers light in their palm to create some kind of symbol and blowing it over their desired target, with those affected get a magic power boost. The Demon Clan refers to this technique as Cheat Hope because it is also a brainwashing spell that turns the targets into fanatical zealots loyal to the Goddesses with no regard of their injuries and keep on fighting until they are broken and dead. 

Flight: As a Goddess, Tara possesses wings for flight, allowing her to fly at considerable heights with ease. Tara has a total of six wings.

-So, in this story, Fundy will be the biological son of Wilbur and Tara. Sally doesn't exist in this (sorry Sally fans)

-That's it for now, enjoy

#drama #romance #fanfic #mcyt #dsmp #wilbursoot #crossover #ocxcharacter #7deadlysins

[balillee]

tommy's character gets far too much shit.

hi tumblr. i'm gonna need a few bitches to spread this post everywhere, essentially because i want someone, or just tommy really, to see it. so if you really want, you can screenshot it and post it on twitter, reddit, link it everywhere - go absolutely buck wild. i know he reads the VODS comments a lot, but they're chock full of people just insulting him, his character, his writing and everything about his story in the dream smp simply because they don't understand it and because they refuse to acknowledge his character's perspective (mainly because they only care about the pig). reading that many critical comments on something you've created can only make you feel worse about it eventually, and in light of all the awful techno apologist takes on his character, i wanted to basically just word vomit about how wonderfully crafted c!tommy is, as well as compile some other tumblr posts about his character.

there is a massive fuckin community of people who enjoy the character of tommy, because the character is incredible. i myself have made post after post after post commenting on and analysing tommy's character because i find that there's so much to pick apart. but that enthusiasm for his character only seems to be found on tumblr. reddit and twitter seem to hate his character, the VODS seem to be filled with comments from people who only care about techno's perspective (and treat techno as a reliable narrator, which, is the furthest thing from the truth - that guy lies through his teeth all the time), and the smp wiki is a hellscape of godawful takes and mistruths, not even on just tommy's character.

c!tommy is brilliantly acted and brilliantly written, and almost everything he does is either justifiable or has been rectified or admitted as a mistake. you can clearly make connections as to where he got his conclusions from. you feel what his character experiences, as a member of the audience, vividly.

if you look in the more objective sense, c!tommy, and this is especially in the context of him being the youngest character, is a scapegoat. people claim he's awful and destructive when in reality he's a lot less destructive than most characters on the server. a moment that comes to mind is where he diverts schlatt and quackity's attention from pogtopia by breaking part of the flag in manberg, and then replacing it so as to buy tubbo some time - he literally monologues after it about how he doesn't want to destroy but instead rebuild, and how he feels as if nobody else seems to understand that.

his arc in season two was incredible. it was very character driven, and it gave a spotlight to his motivations. at the start we see him in new l'manberg, and he's enjoying his time there, he's skeptical of his friend's presidency, but his main goal is to get back the discs so that he can stop dream and eliminate that threat. he made one screw up that didn't even matter to george, and he paid for it tenfold, even after dream had spent a while with puffy griefing the server and framing it on tommy - what tommy and ranboo did was convinient. then, in exile, we see c!tommy straight up get abused. he's gaslit and conditioned into being c!dream's friend, and in his brain he teaches himself that those acts of abuse are moments of bonding, and it eventually brings him to the point of wanting to end his own life - he's been torn away from his friends and his support system, and nobody will visit him consistently anymore because they only showed him pity, and all he had left was dream, who had hurt him.

but he doesn't die there, because while he didn't understand the full gravity of it back then like he does now, he recognises that dying isn't an escape, and he can beat dream, even if he doesn't know how. so this is where he goes to techno's place, and here's where the fandom starts to misinterpret the situation wildly.

it's the problem similar to when your parents tell you that they're owed something back because you put a roof over their head, despite that being Not How It Works. techno took tommy in and severely mistreated him emotionally. sure, and i understand this, c!techno is a bad communicator who isn't really that empathetic to anyone who isn't phil or wilbur, but that doesn't excuse the blatant lying to c!tommy's face, the guilt tripping, the friendship buying and the degrading. the day before the festival, tommy finally does something violent in his interrogation of fundy, and only then does techno tell him,,,,

that tommy's not equal to him, that techno doesn't respect him all that much, and that they're not friends.

from techno's perspective, and at the time, this was viewed as a positive development in their relationship. oh, he's starting to warm up to tommy! this friendship could really blossom!

no. from a more objective standpoint, what techno has just said to tommy is : 'i respect you only a little bit more now, because while you're starting to act more like me, you're still annoying and a burden.'

and i haven't even touched on the whole 'erasing the words 'Destroy L'manberg' from techno's to-do list' thing, because that instantly refutes the point of 'techno was upfront with his intentions the whole time' - because he wasn't! he may have said it the first time, but you also know what else he did? he repeatedly told tommy that they'd 'air the details out later' whenever the discs were brought up, and from a tommy viewer's perspective at the time, it was framed as if techno was no longer going to do that.

and i also haven't dared touch the 'i would have fought them all for you', because that's major guilt tripping if ever i've seen it.

so, the day of the festival comes, and here's where c!techno and his apologists completely misread c!tommy's thought process, and why he makes the decision he does.

tommy instantly regrets valuing the discs over tubbo, and it's framed as the culmination of tommy having become all the people he said he would never want to be like. and what does he immediately do? he tells tubbo to give up the disc, and he sides with tubbo. he puts his value in his friends, and, by proxy, l'manberg. and when he betrays techno, he tells him 'i'm sorry'.

from a more objective standpoint, tommy's time with techno is him valuing the discs over almost anything else. so, in leaving techno to be with tubbo again, he is valuing people above the discs. so when, on doomsday, techno says his 'discs aren't people' line, what he doesn't realise is that he himself fueled tommy's valuing of discs above people when attempting to fuel tommy's vengeance against tubbo and l'manberg. techno doesn't realise that he was an unhealthy presence for tommy, and an even worse influence.

what techno also doesn't seem to understand is that tommy never hated tubbo or l'manberg - tommy recognises, now at least, that his exile wasn't a product of tubbo, but a product of dream's manipulation, likely in part because at the time, especially with dream lying about tommy blowing up the community house, tommy was the only one who could see it because he had experienced it firsthand. so when techno sides with dream, it's like kicking tommy in the teeth.

and i want to mention that betraying someone doesn't necessarily make the person who was betrayed good, or in the right, or even justified, because tommy was entirely justified to leave techno. you know who else was betrayed? schlatt. but i don't see many schlatt apologists around angry at quackity for joining the rebellion.

tommy stole the axe of peace? good. it was a moment of tommy defining his self-worth, instead of having it defined by others. gone is the age of c!techno belittling him and deciding how much c!tommy should be respected. NEXT!

here's a moment i wanted to talk about that will forever be funny to me.

'i am a person.'

techno's very famous line from doomsday. techno says to tommy that discs aren't people, and that tommy should value people, despite not understanding that by leaving techno, he did just that. and what does tommy say in return, which has been omitted from every c!tommy-critical analysis, and every animatic?

'yes you are, but so are we.'

an acknowledgement of techno's hurt, to which tommy has already apologised for. a statement that says 'your hurt does not excuse, nor justify, the hurt you have inflicted onto us.' an acknowledgement that tommy has already learnt the lesson techno seems to be trying to 'teach' him. but you can't teach him anything by destroying.

c!tommy has had almost everything he has ever owned or built either taken from him or destroyed. ranboo even points out that the only two things of tommy's left standing are his house and his hotel, and if i'm honest, his house is dissheveled. it's a labyrinth of terror due only to how many times it's been torn apart. l'manberg being blown up didn't teach anyone anything about anarchy, or about valuing people over possessions. logstedshire being blown up didn't teach tommy to be obedient.

i could honestly ramble for ages about how nuanced tommy's character is and how much depth and complexity there is to his character's process and his relationship with others, but more than that, c!tommy is forgiving. he invites almost everyone who hates him to the grand opening of his hotel - if that isn't an indicator that he just wants friends, and not to be treated like the embodiment of evil, then i don't know what is. he holds grudges, but he doesn't really actively hate anyone, other than c!dream. but, we'll let him. c!dream deserves nothing but to be pummeled into the floor.

tommy doesn't spoonfeed his character nuance, and he doesn't really spell it out for his audience. he'll mention things like trauma and triggers in passing, but a lot of analysis on his motivations has to be picked up from what is said in passing or from what can be seen in between the lines.

i'd be here for hours if i were to talk about everything i love about c!tommy, because honestly he's one of my favourite characters, and there are so many angles you can look at his character from in terms of his age, his relationships with others, his motivations, his personality, his character arcs etc etc. so instead of doing that, i'm going to compile some much more specific analysis posts below to skim through because they highlight so many good aspects of his character.

^^ A thread about the 'yes you are, but so are we' line.

^^ About how shit the VODS comments are.

^^ A comment on how c!Tommy is actually pretty peaceful, and is actually less destructive than most characters on the server.

^^ Possibly the best c!Tommy analysis thread I've ever seen in relation to his trauma, which gives multiple perspectives.

^^ About how c!Tommy is treated as a scapegoat, and how, from an objective standpoint, he is no more violent than any other character, it's just that the little violence that is committed is blown far out of proportion.

^^ Tumblr user flypaw being a bad bitch, as per usual.

^^ c!Tommy being incredibly intelligent, and talking about wanting to rebuild and not destroy. A very underrated monologue of his.

^^ Something short about c!Tommy and c!Wilbur's relationship in Pogtopia.

^^ Less about c!Tommy, more a meta on L'Manberg. Really interesting to think about.

^^ A take on Doomsday.

I'll add some more posts in a reblog in the notes, but if anyone's post(s) is on this and they want me to take it off, let me know and I'll do that for you! Feel free to add your own banger c!Tommy takes or ones that you've found.

#dream smp #dsmp #dreamsmp #dsmpblr #tommyinnit #dream smp analysis #dsmp analysis #dreamsmp analysis #dream smp tommy #dream smp tommyinnit #dreamsmp tommy #dreamsmp tommyinnit #dsmp tommy #dsmp tommyinnit #tommyinnit dream smp #tommy dream smp #tommy dsmp #tommyinnit dsmp #tommyinnit dreamsmp #tommy dreamsmp #mcyt #tommyinnit mcyt #mcyt tommyinnit #dream smp discourse #dream smp theory #dsmp theory #long post

[lily-orchard]

"That’s an odd statement to make given that they are continuously allowing it." Not at all given they constantly censor it. They obviously weren't allowing 10 years ago when they wouldnt allow it in Gravity Falls. Why do you always deny this part of the issue?

Gay characters in cartoons is "Yes" or "No."

It's never "Yes, but only non humans" or "Yes, but it has to be as violently abusive as possible" or "Yes, but..." It's either Yes or No. Gravity Falls had to fight a yes or no for background gays. A flat yes or no.

Catradora isn't abusive because Dreamworks demanded it. Lumity isn't adorable saccharine because Disney demanded it. Catradora being abusive is something a lot of people argue about and disagree with. ND Stevenson herself probably doesn't agree it's abusive. He went to bat for it after all, rather than scrapping it and pairing Adora up with Glimmer.

People were calling Catradora the "Slow Burn LGBT romance of our dreams."

Y'all will kiss a creator's feet when praising something is in vogue, and then turn around and blame everyone else two years later when the exact same thing is the subject of scrutiny.

We don't need to shift blame, writing a toxic romance is hardly the worst crime in the world and we only bring up Catradora as a cautionary tale of over-hyping something before you've seen the payoff. Nobody's going to lynch Stevenson over being way too into a garbage trope. We're just going to back them for being an AO3 teenager for a few days and then never touch it again outside of association with something else.

Y'all were lavishing SU's gay wedding in tongue-baths until someone looked at it with a critical eye and you went "That was the executives fault! She HAD to staple the wedding to the Diamonds!" THEN WHY WERE YOU SAYING THIS WAS THE GREATEST THING EVER SIX MONTHS AGO SHARON?! WHICH IS IT?!

You can't praise the creator for something one minute and then turn around and blame the executive for the exact same thing the next. Especially when I know you loved that shit. Stop thanking corporate executives for bringing you the gay content you love so much, you weird corpo fuck.

Last Minute Gays is a trope that a lot of LGBT people think is totally fine. They argue with me that it's better this way, at least until Lumity happened and they realized they could get actual cute gay couple episodes now.

"This is a great story! Perfect gay rep! Thank you Becky! But it's also the executive's fault it's so shit! Becky worked hard to bring us this amazing gay content, and it's a shame that Animation Industries ruined it by making it shit, but it's amazing and groundbreaking and revolutionary and also the executives are cowards for not letting it be amazing even though it was amazing all hail Becky Mooncorn! Stop complaining about how long it took, it's better this way, but also it's AI's fault it took this long!"

Which is it, bitch? Pick a fucking lane. I'm not stupid, I see what you're doing here. When asked about Trans Marco, the writers of Star Vs said "We liked that idea, but Disney wouldn't let us do it, so instead we were careful to make sure nothing we wrote contradicted it." That's a lot more believable than "I had to play 4D chess to sneak it past the censors, which I totally succeeded in doing even though I'm admitting to this kind of manipulation in public while still under contract, pay no attention to the marketing department behind me promoting it with the tacit approval of everyone in the company, I definitely tricked people! No I'm not a shit writer overcompensating, fuck you! It works as a metaphor and you can't stop me!"

Y'all are the same fucking crowd who will say "Disney is gaybaiting us" when they show two women who hate each other and want to kill each other with violent, raging gusto.

The real reason gay rep isn't as good as it could be is only partially due to executives having feet of clay. The audience flat out DOES NOT DEMAND BETTER. They demand catfights and abuse fetishism and dawdling romantic arcs. These tropes are EXTREMELY popular. I am in the minority in hating these tropes.

This garbage is what you think good gay rep is, and there are writers and creators who think exactly like you.

Foe Romantic Subtext is ND Stevenson's favourite trope. This would be like if I made a show involving two traumatized lesbians recovering with each other and being adorably saccharine together and turned around and said "making that was a compromise with the higher ups" when people rejected it.

I'd be lying my ass off and anyone familiar with my work would know that instantly.

If you're trying to answer the question of "Why is SU so pretentious for a show that has so little to say" then you could just go to interviews, livestreams and podcasts where Rebecca Sugar talks about the show and realize "Oh, they're a pretentious idiot. That's why." Sugar talks like someone who's never left their house or spoken to another human being. She could write for Metal Gear with the kind of drivel that comes out of their fucking mouth. It's not rocket science, it's literally just 2+2.

What slows progress is that when it comes from any other studio, gay people will accept very little in terms of representation. They will accept crumbs. They will accept being villainized. They will except being portrayed as abusive, and then harass other people who don't accept it. They will claim narratives about being ostracized as "Gay narratives" when such stories can be applied just as easily to race, gender and creed. And they will willingly degrade themselves and call it powerful.

And when that sensitive nerve is prodded, you lash out and reach for excuses. You'll blame executives for the same thing you were defending and calling me a prudish tradwife over just a few months ago because your only investment is wanting the critical people to shut up, and "It wasn't the creator's fault" is the best thing you have because nobody will question it.

You don't actually care about executive meddling except when it comes from the one company you've oriented your personality around hating. But 90% of the time, if the creator was given full creative control with no oversight whatsoever... the difference would be negligible.

And the other 10% of the time, the creator probably pulled a Lauren Faust and quit over creative differences.