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danicadenniss · 3 months

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DreamWorks Trolls

Branch: Troll Of The Wildglade

Chapter 4: Capture With Fear

In the Trolls Brotherhood AU, Warning that it's going to be violent, Branch's darkest fear about the fire. Dante Reyes survived from the fire.

Next day, at the Village's museum of historical, a female tour guide show Talons Bounty Troll Hunters' fallen leader during the fire, since 20 years ago in the forest.

Female Tour Guide: That's was Talons Bounty Troll Hunters' fallen leader was killed by the fires in the woods.

A White South African teenage girl with long light auburn hair, green eyes, pale skin complexion, some freckles on her cheeks and wearing a white collared, button up shirt, a light gray undershirt, a blue sweater with 3/4 sky blue sleeves, a dark pink above the knee skirt with lilac and bubblegum pink checkered capri leggings and lavender Mary Jane's flats and writing down on her journal, she don't want to hunt down trolls, but she want to have peace and quiet, and raised her hand up to ask her.

Female Tour Guide: Yes, Cady, what is it?

Cady Heron: I don't want to hunt the creatures, it's not safe for the trolls. The trolls' leader died after battle it's enemy, 20 years ago, before I was born, Dad is working with Gabby to protect the nature from harm. My grandfather dislike Talons Bounty Troll Hunters hunting trolls. The trolls are singing and dancing with the clan called Wildglade. A one of the trolls turned gray who hate singing and dancing. (The orphans are laughing and playing each other, by running in the museum's hall. The tour guide tell them to stop running.)

Children: Hi, Mrs. Gloria!

Gloria: Kids, please no running, okay, you guys know the rules.

Children: We're sorry, we'll walked slowly okay.

Little girl: The trolls are singing and dancing in the forest every day.

Gloria: Yes, Abby, Pastor Chunch want to protect the wildlife from the hunt.

Abby Schmidt: My friend, Travis and I are playing our instrument, but the trolls like to sing and dance.

Travis: I don't like mean people hunting trolls.

Little Girl: I don't want all the trolls died after the attack.

Little Boy: Me too!

The children are playing their instruments and they dancing with each others just like the trolls.

Arthur Slugworth walked into the museum with a horse and a cart with it. William Afton dislike music, like the trolls, he say.

Arthur Slugworth: Alright, children but you no better to play all the instruments, and it's will be recyclable! (horse neighing) Now go to take all the toys or we will clapped all of you in jail.

The hunters took their instruments away from the children and they recycling the instruments and they laughed evilly, the children are crying and wailing, they want them to do chores.

Victoria Kord: So, Regina, nice suit, today. The training is starting now!

Meanwhile, at the training room for teen hunters will train to hunt down trolls in the forest. They got their suits on their hunt for trolls.

Regina George: Gretchen, Karen, how's did you too get here?

Black teenage boy: (whispered) I don't know!

Polynesian teenage girl: The trolls' home?

Agent Rimes walked into the room.

Agent Rimes: Alright, rookies, listen here, there are rapids creatures, go cross to the woods, jump over the logs and kill and grab all the trolls by bringing them to the prison by poison all the lands, we'll be success our goals. Where's Cady?

Regina George: She's writing her diary again at the museum.

Agent Rimes: Remember focus on your skills, and don't get hurt! Good luck rookies.

The teens put their masks on and we walk into the field with their spyglasses and they looked at the trolls hisses, she used her dart gun and shot it, they ran towards to kill them. They held the guns and they ran fast into their marches. A black teenage boy and a Polynesian teenage girl are get hurt with the red X on their armors.

Karen Smith: Whoa, look at this. Haha!

Black teenage boy: Aw come on!

Polynesian teenage girl: Daiman, I hate hunting trolls so much!

The teens looked up at the trolls, they held their shields and they got to the trees with lot of trolls jumped out and tackled two of them.

Regina George: OH SON OF THE BITCH! (Use toxic chemicals gas and threw it against the trolls, and the tree got knocked down. Dante Reyes walked into the room and clapped his hands with an evil smile.)

Dante Reyes: Tonight, we'll hunt down creatures with our weapons to poison them.

Regina George: Yes, my lord, it's my turn to strings! My turn to hunt! (Pushed in the pushing bag)

The hunters walked out of the room in the darkness, back to the forest, in her bunker, Poppy drew the picture of her, her sister, her mother and her father before her sister's disappearance and her mother's death, she put it back in the box. That night, the teens walked into the woods, with their loaded poisonous dart guns and the butterfly nets are ready, the brothers continued staring at the clear, night sky with peaceful in Branch's heart. They stopped staring at the stars, something caught his eye. He see the hunters in the flashback as baby crying and seeing his father's sacrifice during the attack. End of the flashback, beyond his home, in the trees across the fields and below a mountain. The hunters putting their masks on, then they walked into the woods.

Branch: That's my land, hunters in our homeland.

John Dory: We got to check it out and fast.

Branch: We're going to check it out. See if they might provide danger to our clan.

Floyd: We're be fine.

Spruce: I'm agree with you guys (they grabs their weapons onto their backs, they swung down the the tree they were located on and landed safely on the ground. The brothers swiftly took off.

The bounty troll hunters loaded poisonous dart guns are ready, Dante Reyes walked in the tent. The bounty troll hunters smiled at the rookie with her new suit.

Dante Reyes: Tonight, we hunt down trolls! (Talons Bounty Troll Hunters cheer for his master plan)

Branch, John Dory, Spruce and Floyd continued to ran though the trees and across the valley and valley without having to stop. In order to improve their speed, they sometimes ran in all fours, a trait that their kind uses should they ever want to escape their foes. Unlike the other trolls,the brothers can ran longer distances, has a high stamina for it and many survival skills that were earned throughout the years. Now they're finally paying off. Finally, he reached the edge of the forest until he stopped shortly when they saw something embedded on the dirt. The dogs smell them as they see trolls while they barking at the brothers. They ran across the dogs barking and they were seen them running.

John Dory: (gasped and whispered) Dogs?

Branch: (gasped and whispered) Still fresh,

Spruce: (whispered) Guys, looks the hunters bring the dogs, they barking and stalking at us.

One of the dog: Woof!

Floyd: Who are they?

John Dory: (whispered) Hunters! That's man is their new leader and they want to hunt us down. Since Daddy sacrifice himself to save us all, 20 years since Clay's disappearance along with Viva back, we were kids.

Floyd: (whispered) It's not too late for you to leave. Forgot about us. Just be careful.

Ignacio Carapax: Hmmm! Oof! Oh what the? (One of the dogs barking) I knew, they across all of y'all in the forest. I'm going to the boss about the good news.

Branch: I told you, We'll return to the village. (The brothers looked up at the hunters and they gasped, Dante Reyes say)

Dante Reyes: Suprise, trolls!

Branch: No! It can't be! Listen to me! We must fight to the hunters. Gather Alder want everyone you know and run! GO!

Bounty Troll Hunters #6: We got them now!

Bounty Troll Hunters #9: Ha! Got him! (Branch whipped at the hunters' face)

Branch: Oh, you think so, huh? (hidden smirk, he has reached his end. As he dashed ahead, the hunters gasped when Branch and Floyd suddenly jumped and climbed on narrow edges on the vertical wall. The brothers stretching their hairs and grabbed onto a small rocky ledge of the wall. Waving a wave to the hunters, they swung forward like a slingshot.

The brothers: Yeah!

John Dory: See y'all next fall!

Dante Reyes: Don't ever do this! Regina!

Branch landed upright and hurried off to the exit.

Branch: (laughing, running as fast as he could. He dashed around a corner and ran up the rocky path. But just as they thought they were home free, Regina darted on his right upper shoulder, a rope was suddenly around his waist, trapping his arms, and was pulled to the bottom of the cliff.)

John Dory, Spruce and Floyd: Branch! (Branch groan, Arthur Slugworth and his partners Gerald Prodnose and Felix Fickelgruber used their butterfly nets and captured them as they scream in horror.)

Branch: What just happened? (shook his head and noticed the rope around him. They looked up to where the rope led by Regina.)

Floyd: Who is she?

The brothers looked up at her, a spotlight shined on fully as Branch see poison on his upper shoulder and he shivering with fear.

Branch: AH! No! You're poisoned me!

Spruce: O O Oh, how's could you!

Arthur Slugworth put John Dory, Spruce and Floyd in the bag and tie it up.

John Dory: I It's is... (Arthur Slugworth evil laugh)

John Dory, Spruce and Floyd: NO, NO, NO, NO! D'OH!

Spruce: (mumbled) NO!

Dante Reyes: (evil smile, the hunters holding the rope.) Though you trolls got away, didn't you, trolls?

Branch: (gasped, in the vision, Hernan Reyes' evil laugh, Thorn fight against him. Baby Branch crying and wailing for his father's sacrifice during the attack and the fires. End of the vision, he shivering with his eyes.) Big mistake, ugly! (growled and charged at him. But then another rope to grab his right foot, snared his hair, pulled him back painfully. Ahh!

Branch struggled to escape, managing to pull his arm free, but unfortunately, the hunters threw one more rope which bounded his wrists together.

Branch: Let's us go! (panting, that's he lost his father to the hunters.)

Poppy arrived on the table and see the hunters, they looked at her.

Arthur Slugworth: What was that thing? It's looked like gray but it looking dark. How's it got up here?

Poppy jumped up to try tackled him, Regina used her net to captured her and then he put her in the bag. The hunters tried pulling Branch up, despite his struggles.

Poppy: (mumbled) Hey, watch it!

Dante Reyes: (whipped his horse, with the jeep, the horse neighing) To the village!

He and the hunters walked to jeep while dragging them and straight back to the village. At the Village's museum, Clay and Viva has to escape from prison. Clay is taller and slender, his hair became messy lime green hair and he wear a green one suit romper with a diamond. Viva is slightly taller, her hair is curly, with one lock of her hair resting down on the right side of her face and pink yellow sparkling makeup. She wears a white leotard with golden colored trim and a pink star with golden trim on the the chest. She has red leg warmers with pink lozenges on them.

Clay: (gasped and held his pictures of his mother Ivy, his father Thorn who sacrifice himself to save them, because of his disappearance along with Viva, his grandmother and his brothers.) Mom, Grandma, John Dory, Spruce, Floyd, Branch!

The call of his brothers' help, his mother asked him to come home. He regains his memories, reminiscing those of his brothers, family, friends and himself. He fears of forgetting everything and knowing that losing his brothers.

Clay: I...AM CLAY, SON OF THORN AND IVY AND THE HEIR OF GLADE CLAN! I AM THE MIDDLE BROTHERS OF JOHN DORY, SPRUCE, FLOYD AND BRANCH! I must to save them from the hunters' threats! (running out of the museum, fast as he can to save his brothers.) I'm coming brothers! Help is on the way! I have to go now! That's is my greatest fear. Losing my brothers. I have to save my brothers! He had a big amount of guilt as he blame himself for leaving the forest, since his father's sacrifice during the attack and the fires in the woods. He ran into the church, with a plan and Viva's help to save his brothers.

Can Clay regain his memories and reunite with his brothers on the next chapter.

#trolls headcanons #dreamworks trolls #trolls #trolls brotherhood au #trolls au #trolls branch #branch trolls #trolls broppy #trolls john dory #trolls jd #trolls bruce #trolls spruce #trolls clay #trolls cliva #trolls floyd #dante reyes #trolls fanfic #Spotify

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vacantgodling · 11 months

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re. wip master list

an ever updating list of all of my wips and ideas that i juggle in my brain at any given moment, laid out as simply as possible for y’all’s convenience. obviously PARAMOUR & TCOL are my main wips right now so you can check my main pinned for more information about those, however, these are for all my other wips that are backburner in some way.

this list will probably update often as i revamp old ideas or come up with new ones

these are also in no particular order

THE CHRONICLES OF LATHSBURY BOOK I: THE WRATH OF THE DEMON KING

summary: five adventurers from different backgrounds must face The Labyrinth as the deep magic that keeps the chaos within it at bay begins to rip apart at their seams

wip intro || character intros || crash course || s: tcol (main tag)

THE LIMINAL SPACE SERIES

summary: a series of 5 continuous books and 1 spinoff tale centered around this universe’s concept of liminal spaces. what they all have in common is they center on death, Reapers, Witches, magic, possession, and horror, but above all liminal spaces.

Liminal Spaces are defined as the place a person is in during a transitional period. this can be emotionally, physically, metaphysically or all of the above. in this series liminal spaces are more akin to separate planes of existence where death and horror reign supreme and magic is in the air. nothing is impossible and your worst nightmares usually come true.

wip intro || tags -> s: donut wip / s: noi alone / s: jenna the reaper / s: jenna the witch king / s: mason at the airport

GOD EATER

summary: the sun is stolen, drenching the upper in darkness and spelling certain doomsday for the world as its known it if it’s not returned. nevaeh is sent down to the treacherous under to find the god responsible for the sun’s disappearance and return it as soon as possible. to do that, they’ll need to find the last god eater. and they only have 13 weeks.

wip intro || character list || tag -> s: god eater

THE GRAVES WE DUG

summary: graves is a bounty hunter on the run after betraying his organization following the death of his partner, dove, in a mission gone horribly askew. however, one night in a seedy saloon far removed from their old stomping grounds of the city of rapture, dove shows up and demands that graves finish what they started before he “died.” emotional turmoil ensues.

wip intro || playlist || chapter one || tag -> s: the graves we dug

VAMPIRES DON’T TAKE ROAD TRIPS

summary: 20 year old darren de leon is content with just living his life as is, with his father dave, step-sister (kinda) olice, and not including his father’s girlfriend veronica as much as possible. that is, until someone he never thought he would meet shows up at their doorstep—his absentee mother, lizette rouzet blanc who… incidentally is a vampire. someone is out to hunt darren down and so they have to leave town to get to safety… leading to the most awkward and life changing road trip he’s ever been on.

wip intro || powerpoint intro (more accurate than the wip intro tbh) || how vampires work || tag -> s: darren and co

DEAD RITES

summary: nathali “n” blackburn is the top reporter at the small firm aurora press, and has had it up to here with the fear mongering surrounding the vampire group the marauders after the death of rising politician richard lindsey, which they have no proven involvement with. seeking the truth, n manages to arrange a meeting with a marauders chapter worker, a vampire named beau bellerose, and the rabbit hole his search leads them down may start a civil war.

wip intro || tag -> s: dead rites

LUKEWARM REJECTION

summary: aidan “di” absyna has it all—or so he thinks. he’s a guitarist in a punk band with his best friends, his boyfriend, the lead singer maverick loverde, is perfect, so what if he’s not out to his extremely controlling religious parents yet? things however come crashing down around him when the day before they’re supposed to go on stage at the biggest and probably most important event in their budding careers, maverick walks out on them, ending he and di’s relationship suddenly in the process. their leader nix, frantic to not let them crash in burn calls in a “best friend” that none of them have ever heard of—a mysterious, good looking, powerhouse vocalist toph. and toph well… toph’s a demon. literally.

wip intro || tag -> s: lukewarm rejection

ALIZATH

summary: kirsi sunniva and her aunt lady jeanna sunniva (posing as her governess) make their (hopefully) triumphant return to alizath’s social scene; to repair the tarnished reputation their family and of her father who still waits outside of the country for his banishment to be lifted. in order to do this, kirsi must make connections, and connections she makes. but even from the beginning something seemed slightly… off about why her family was banished—and who she even is. and if she happens to uncover those secrets… what will the state of alizath be once they come to light?

wip intro || the major courts & characters || tag -> s: alizath

PURPLE HAZE

summary: calvin im and jake deluna have been best friends since they were 5 years old. they’ve been with each other through thick and thin, all throughout high school… at least until two things happen on the eve of their high school graduation: jake tries and fails to commit suicide, and calvin’s long term girlfriend breaks up with him without warning shortly after that. both spiraling, but trying to put the pieces together two years removed from these events, they must slowly learn to heal, to love, and to remember what best friends are for in the first place.

wip intro || tag -> s: purple haze

THE VIRGIN OF MOUNT HEREDOSA

summary: nyoka is destined to die. a foreigner in this land that worships gods unfamiliar to them, nyoka was taken in by the council of elders when their parents passed away from a strange illness many years ago. this grace came with a caveat; that when their time came, they would be thrown into the mountain as a sacrifice to the gods. nyoka has no intention of dying for a cause they have no stake in—however when they’re suddenly bumped up the chopping block and are next in line to die, they need to think fast. the only way to get out of this? well, if they’re no longer a virgin. and perhaps, the mysterious spice merchant verin is the key to defying this fate.

s: wip intro || character intro || tag -> s: mount heredosa

NONDISCLOSURE (previously: NAD)

summary: nyseah nicoletti is an overworked nurse who suddenly has psychic powers awakened in her after a one night stand. alona springwell is a college student who works part time at the largest corporation in the city and during her first night shift sees a trail of blood leading from one of the rooms she’s forbidden to enter. donte macbride is a jaded PI who’s dragged into one last case by an offer he can’t refuse. 3 storylines, each seemingly unrelated, weave together to uncover a sinister underground of extortion, experimentation, and evil—even more than what’s already expected from the city.

wip intro || tag -> s: nad

GOTHICA (title pending)

summary: lennon rhapsody granger is sent to a private prep institute for troubled youth after she gets expelled from school for the fifth time. there, she meets and becomes romantically involved with bad boy heartthrob aurora o’rion, who is a lackey of a group called the centurion, who do not take kindly to outsiders being so close to their secrets. but lennon has always liked playing with fire… she just isn’t prepared for it to burn this badly.

wip intro || tag -> s: gofficka

NOBLE

summary: found adrift in space, noh bell is taken in by a cargo vessel and dropped off at the nearest planet. he doesn’t remember anything about himself, other than the rudimentary finger spelling for his name. yet, when he enters the tavern with the crew who saved his life, his name and face are plastered all over message boards, a billion dollar bounty on his head. he’ll need to find out what he did, and find out fast before he’s killed.

wip intro || tag -> s: noble

THE WHITE SHIRTS

summary: twins prosper and jane morning have been living life in a rural town in what used to be the united states, it’s backbone the fire department—tasked with stopping the endless raging fires that the dry heat blows in through the prairie. but everything changed when men in white button down shirts showed up, armed to the teeth, and raze their town, leaving them as the only survivors. but the thing is: there aren’t meant to be survivors. faced with annihilation without a cause, the twins begin to run with no destination in mind until they meet a fellow survivor of a white shirt massacre marin; who’s heard rumors of a ship on the east coast that can take them away from here to europe. the only problem is making it there alive.

wip intro || tag -> s: the white shirts

SUPERNATURAL DADS (title pending)

summary: hue rvynwell really doesn’t know what he’s doing with himself. as a recently divorced werewolf single-ish father of two overly powerful witch girls, he’s kind of got his work cut out for him. meddling family and friends can’t understand why he left his vampire husband of over 20 years, jihan, but so much of it boils down to that age old struggle of mortality. but he’ll have to face his demons, and his ex, when the government requires the two of them to cohabitate so that their eldest daughter can start at (essentially) witch U. and their daughters are more than ready to parent trap this situation.

wip intro || tag -> s: supernatural dads

LITTER SUPPORT

summary: kaspian or kas, has made a lot of mistakes in his life - and chief among them is unintentionally having so many litters! with so many children to look after, having custody of none of them, and trying to just get by, romance and doing things for himself are a huge afterthought. however, he knows that he should try to live a little more. its just... hard when you have your hands full. (this takes place in the same universe as supernatural dads)

wip intro || tag -> s: litter support

CELESTIAL WEDDINGS

summary: dagmar of dattenmaow (or the 8th sphere) is one of the eight hopefuls set to try their hand at becoming the new celestial ruler; after the previous one rava died only 50 years into their reign. after 27 years of rigorous training by the celestial lovers, the hopefuls begin the most important part of their journey; traveling to each realm to woo and marry a member of the royal family of each sphere. polyamory, love, weddings, and uncovering the truth behind rava’s demise await.

wip intro || pinterest board || tag -> s: celestial weddings

TRAIN MASTER CHIDORI

summary: chidori jonson just hit his 1 year anniversary of being a train master—and things are just starting to kick off!

notes: train master chidori is more of an art project/potential webcomic so not much writing mostly art will you see if this wip.

playlist || tag -> s: train master chidori

SIXTEEN CANDLES

summary: ranger, nanette, tucker, vani, and roger have been friends for 16 years, and with that much history in one group chat? shenanigans ensue.

notes: this is a chat-style wip, so any writing will be in the form of characters messaging each other. i love the emerging language that is internet linguistics, so there will be a lot of playing around with how words are showcased. remember: no typo is just a typo in this wip!

character list || tag -> s: sixteen candles

TEARDROPS OF THE GODS

summary: quill is half-merman; he’s known this since he was a boy, but the fear of capture by his pirate father has kept him from returning home to the sea. until, a string of town decimating pillages begin down the coast—quill knows his father is coming to look for him. and frankly, it’s high tide (heh) that quill get revenge for everything that man did to him.

wip intro || tag -> s: teardrops

RED DEATH AND THE ORACLE’S FAVOR

summary: red like blood, that’s what she named herself when her sister was stolen. red like death. she has been scouring the land for her missing sister and it has been endless years of empty leads and dead ends until she finally meets the man called oracle, hel lovendusky. he, who knows everything about everything and could know the whereabouts of her sister, and with the promise of protection and one unnamed favor, he agrees to traverse these war battered lands with her to find her.

wip intro || tag -> s: red and hel

PERI & DANDY

summary: when you die, your spirit is taken to the library—a world between worlds where you’re allowed to read your book of life, make peace with it, and pass on to whatever your idea of an afterlife is. librarians guard these sacred spaces; not man, nor woman, but angels or bookkeepers, who guide souls on. one spirit has always been the sacred rule. so what is she to do, when two souls show up at the exact same time; named vesper “peri” and andrew “dandy”. and this is not the first time they have died at the same time. in fact, this ongoing phenomena may break the very fabric and principles that she holds dear. what can you do, when a soul loves itself so much that it splits in two to never be apart?

wip intro || tag -> s: peri & dandy

DREAM TEAM

summary: yeah tbh no fancy summary here, 4 kids traverse to a fantasy world in their dreams where they’re the chosen ones meant to stop a great evil. they continue to visit dream world every time they fall asleep and they can see the changes irl but eventually when they all go to the same college they end up meeting in person for the first time. which is yknow. bad cuz that means the evil is about to strike but yknow. GOOD bc shenanigans.

notes: this wip will probably never be formally written it’s just funny to think about and i’m allowing myself to be a kid with it since i technically thought of this idea as a kid. bless.

wip intro || tag -> s: dream team

MARVIN & LINDA

summary: after finishing a recon mission with freelance special agent “linda”, “marvin” is ready to finish these file downloads and get onto his next mission. they receive sudden correspondence from his employers however, that they will need to wait (i have to decide how long) before they can be extracted and they are not to leave the hotel. this forces two extremely private and dangerous agents in one room to unfortunately tear each others walls down and bear each others souls before parting once again.

wip intro || ending || tag -> s: marvin and linda

ITRI & THE GIANTS

summary: i’m still working on the plot but this is a thumbelina adjacent reimagining. i’m thinking itri is a “dwarf but not how we think about them” and his nickname is thumbs because he’s great with his hands and always has the “thumbs” to fix things. i know the giants to them are essentially like past gods or something like that. So. gotta figure this out.

wip intro || tag -> s: thumbs and the giants

BROKEN CLOUDS

summary: utah and slug's mother has been missing since slug was born, and almost 20 years later, utah wants to find her. at the same time, their aunt, official but absentee caretaker, and their mother's elder sister, risky game, receives a letter in the post from someone claiming to be her long lost sister. this leads to the three of them, plus utah's hacker partner gator to head out on a fucked up roadtrip to find out what happened to their mom annnnd a bunch of other shit happens too.

wip intro || s: broken clouds

#wip masterlist #wip intro

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popculturebuffet · 2 months

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Superhero Wedding Special III: The Wedding of Wally West and Linda Park

Happy belated valentine's day all you happy people! And it's time once again for my favorite tradition on this blog: the superhero wedding special.

For those just joining us I love a good wedding "episode", wether it be a good tv wedding like Adventure Time or Community, a good wedding movie like Father of the Bride or a good old fashiond superhero wedding. And since there are both so many comic book weddings and so many I haven't covered, for the past three years i've let my patreons each pick one, picked one myself, then put all four in a poll for you fine folks to choose from. First year was a tie between Rogue and Gambit's stolen wedding and Aunt Man and Doc Ock's near marriage that ended in a nuclear explosion off the coast of Canada, and last year Hulking and Wiccan had a quick wedding via mid crossover flashback among friends, then had another celebration for the whole superhero community post crossover.

Both races were tight: one was a tie and last years eeked out a win against the Batman/Catwoman wedding fiasco. So this year was a bit diffrent. Not only did I use Tumblr's minty fresh new poll system.. but the results.. weren't even remotely close.

Yeah Wally and Linda won HALF of the 18 votes for this poll, beating out Emma's choice of Lex Luthor's Space wedding, Kev's roulette wheel choice of the recent Emma Frost Tony Stark Wedding, and Brotoman.exe's runner up Luke Cage and Jessica Jones. All good choices.. but it's clear what the people wanted. Ya'll REALLY love Wally West on here, love him even more with Linda and I wholeheartedly agree. While I didn't see this landslide coming, I'm pleased as punch it happened.

So before we introduce our couple, as is tradition let's track how we got to these nuptials.

Wally was in a weird place when he met Linda, both in and out of universe. In universe.. he'd been turned into a porcupine man somehow and was being hunted by Captain Cold during his stint as a bounty hunter.

Point is he met Linda as a newswoman. Out of universe Wally had a bit of a creative rough patch in the 80's. Wally started the 80's in one of the most influental and important books of the decade and one of it's best, The New Teen Titans. And he was easily.. the weakest member of the team.

See while his teamates were either fresh new characters Wolfman and Perez refined as they went (Starfire, Raven, Cyborg) or ones who had long since needed a new coat of paint and got a second act out of the deal (Dick Grayson, Donna Troy and Beast Boy), Wally.. was the odd man out. The team tried to make him the token conservative and a reluctant hero: one who knows he has a duty but is just.. tired of it and wants to retire. NOthing wrong with that, it can be a good angle. The problem is Wally spends the book either whining about not wanting to be a hero instead of just being honest with his friends, who have plenty of power without him, or declaring raven evil out of hand. And he does have a leg to stand on in not liking her, she made him love her. But instead of focusing on that he just assumes any time she looses control slightly she's evil now and stops carring about her because of something that, unlike the brainwashing thing, was entirely out oc her control. You can read more about all this here in this mammoth I did on the series.

The takeaway is that Wally sucked. Then Crisis on Infinite Earths Happened and Barry died heroically sacrifcing himself. Wally swore at the end of that series he wouldn't become the flash... but one year later with the next crossover Legends he did.

So Wally got his own brand new solo written by Mike Baron who reworked Wally's character.. and somehow made him MORE insufferable, making him into an egotisticla impulsive ladies man who cheated on his girlfriend, let his mother walk all over his new girlfriend, a married woman he was having an affair with. He also was a giant dick to Chunk, a neurotypical genius with black hole powers and planned to exploit him. He also won the lottery, a thing that sure did happen and sure was necessary and not a cheap gimmick no one asked for yes sir.

THe baron run.. was a mess. With Wolfman and perez I can at least see what they were going for and tha tit simply failed. Here I don't know what the fuck Baron was thinking.

Thankfully soon after William Messner Loebs took over, and while i've only read a smidgen of his run and wish more was collected, it's an instant improvment: Wally looses his fortune and becomes more of a relatable every man, the "you could have a beer with him" sort whose just at home at a hockey game as he is fighting snake themed terrorists.

So with Wally's new personality came a stable love intrest in Linda. Linda was just what Wally needed: someone who saw through all his bullshit, that all the swaggering and screwing around was compensating for the mountain of issues he refused ot work through.

Linda ended up seeing enough of Wally's good nature to start dating him casually, which lasted into the Mark Waid run, where the two were truly fleshed out as a couple.. and which i've read a solid chunk of. Mark Waid is seen as the man who truly made wally the flash and it's hard to argue that as Wally grew as a person bit by bit over the run. He was still impulsive, down to earth and quippy as fuck, but the overcompensation, horn doggery and assholishness were gone. He also gave wally his full backstory, and helped him finally get over comparisons to barry, making his speed limit that internalized imposter syndrome I mentiond: he was scared of replacing Barry.. but more scared of letting THIS BASTARD DO IT.... god I gotta cover the Return of Bary Allen sometime.

So through all this growth for Wally, he and linda grew as a couple: When Linda asked just how serious they were Wally balked, then got caught up on a flash thing... before speeding his way on a train to ask her to stay. The two have great chemistry: Linda likes Wally's fun nature, down to earth stylez and the fact he dosen't treat her like she's made of glass.. most of the time (Some incidents shook him up a bit), while Wally loves her no nonsense atittude, the only thing that often cuts thorugh his bullshit when he hyperfixates on his latest problem. She's his rock, he's her roll, and they need that ballance. She keeps him grounded.. and not just in the speed force, as discovering it nearly caused wally to loose himself.. but her love anchored him back.

So their marriage was inevitible and while I coudln't find the proposal issue, it's no suprise it happened: the two loved each other deeply and there's a reason they got so much love in this poll, and it's nice the two are back solidly as a couple with no signs of more ediotial fuckery making one of them not exist or forget the other or whatever.

So with that we're at the wedding. It came towards the end of Mark waid's run, right before Geoff Johns also super special awesome run, with Johns getting to define their married life more. It also begins a bit of a weird arc i'll talk about when we get to the end of the issue btu for now it's a blessed day for a blessed couple under the cut.

Since the wedding itself is supervillain free, we open with a big action set piece. Said set piece is excellent: Waid really knows how to write a flash story and sneakily choose villians who were key to Wally and Linda's history: Kobra

I had to and Mark waid had to know what he was doing introdcuing a snake themed terroist group. Kobra is a cult/terriorst group ran by Kobra with a K. They nearly destroyed Keystone City during the Terminal Velocity arc, with Wally forced to go as fast as he possibly could to save Linda, nearly loosing himself in the process. This is where the anchor thing happened. What I really like is the story.. dosen't bring this up. He just mentions he's "tussled with them" before, so newer readers don't have to get an info dump, but people who've been reading a while get the continuity nod.

It's a fun opener too as Wally zooms around, interogates a guy by shaking him real hard, and finds out Kobra's hiding at Broome Plaza, a nice nod to Wally co-creator John Broome. Kobra can teleport so he nopes out, but wally uses a neat trick: since he's faster than sound, he can catch up to what their saying.. and thus evacuate city hall before their bomb goes off. Said attack annoys wally a little but he's able to catch his marriage certificate. It's a good cold open that gives us some flash action.. and allows the rest of the issue to just be a simple plain clothes wedding.

Granted no wedding is simple and Wally reacts to hearing the cake may be off.. is to kidnap a chef from paris.

I.. I want to know how Wally knows this guy, and why he can just kidnap Pierre at a moment's notice. Did he kindap a random chef or do they have a history? Who was he fighting in paris? he WAS part of Justice League Europe for quite some time so it's plausable but dammit I want this story told Mark.

Linda rather than overreacting.. is greatful she has a soon to be husband whose so kind and considerate he'd run al lthe way to paris to kidnap her a baker. The two get down on the floor but before they can get doooowwnwnnn on the floor Linda's parents walk in. Thankfully their quickly distracted though Wally notices something's off: while Linda's had nothing resembling cold feet she freezes up a bit when Wally brushes off his parents, not even having checked if their coming. As you'll soon se he has every reason not to give a shit.

What he does give a shit about is Linda making Bart, aka impulse the ring bearer. Impulse was Wally's equilvent to kid flash and eventually his kid flash, before Wally became Wally's kid flash more recently. That wasn't a typo, there are two of them, it's not important to any of this.

For those less familiar with my boy, Bart is a hyperactive mess, having been raised in virtual reality simulation in the future and thus having trouble slowing down, not helped by being a speedster whose all but said to have ADHD. Wally's relationship with bart's a contrast to Barry's with him: While Barry was a fair mentor and the father Wally needed, Wally.. simply dosen't have the patience to actually train his young ward. Wally and Bart are too much alike, both impulsive, both running a mile a minute, and thus Bart was trained instead by Wally's own secondary mentor Max Mecury, a golden age speedster who has nothing BUT patience and when Max went into comic limbo, the almost as patent first flash Jay Garrick took the reigns. It's a detail I like as it not only set up Bart's own series well but makes sense: Wally can help Bart in small doses and dosen't abandon him, but simply can't handle the kid. It's telling that noawadays while he's taken a roll in mentoring his cousin, Wallace is both way calmer and Wally's matured enough from being a parent to actually handle being a mentor.

Thankfully Linda has patience for both of them and takes care of bart in a really clever way

Sadly the good times can't last and Wally's parents arrive and we see WHY he was so aphrensive about them showing up.

Yeah besides the .. questionable gifts, Waid does a godo job showing WHY he dosen't like them without getting into their histories: Wally's dad gives him a cheap gift and brings a date younger than his own son, and Wally's Mom's every action towards him is some veiled crticisim. Their awful and waid has never sugacoated that, and their constant baggering may explain New Teen Titans era wally in canon: Wally was less himself at the time because he was BADLY trying to be what they wanted and once he got the freedom of being the flash, he snapped back into being who he truly was.

Wally gets them to go away by playing "LOOK A RELATIVE WANTS TO TALK ABOUT THEIR INHERTIANCE" and linda tenses up again, not getting at WHY she keeps doing that. Wally is quickly distracted by this hair crime

Oh all the ways i'm going to have fun with this. Okay for starters Dick, your the son of the world's greatest detective. Bruce has taught you better wig game than that and you damn well know it. 80's metal hair is not Nightwing level disguise work Richard.

Second... how is the "Theodore Logan" look less conspcious than the adopted son of a millionare being friends with a public figure?

Third: All this is going to do is have papparzi asking "Whose Wally West's Best Man?". Does Dick have a cover identity all set up for this or did he only think of this plan the 5 minutes it took to buy a "babies first winger costume" wig.

Fourth: right after the rest of the titans show up, and Donna herself is a public figure, having taken pictures of starfire and being a high profile fashion photographer, Roy himself is ward of a billionare and Garth has no secret identity. how is "bruce wayne's son" any less conspcious.

And fifth WHY of all the wigs did he choose a perm that resembles their teammate jericho they watched get stabbed in front of them not a year ago probably in universe. Maybe two.

To my shock by the end Joey was apparently fronting whitesnake so what the hell dick. Why remind all your many friends present "oh yeah remember our friend who got stabbed in the chest in front of us".

So the rest of the titans arrive and somehow don't razz Dick for this hair crime, though even through that perm dick can sense somethin'gs off with linda. We get mor ehints why as Wally dosen't intorduce the titans to his family: Linda was the one to invite them and while he's glad they came he's not really.. close to any of them. The people he is make a bit more of an intrance, as the JLA arrive, with Superman worried about paparazzi. I mean dick will never live down that perm if they see it.

Wally kept the location on the DL.. which won't really stop paparazzi , even 90's paparazzi, and just makes Dick's hair somehow more rediculous. Any more and it'll become a force unto itself.

Thankfully more of Wally's REAL family shows up: Iris. for those wondering why this is a big deal at the time Iris was living in the future: she's from the 30th century, it's a long story, point is she stayed there after Barry's death both to raise her kids and to avoid spoiling the future. Ironically she'd come back full time during the next run as the future changed enough she had no idea what to expect, but for now Wally's worried she'll give her dad a heart attack.. only for her to explain she already went and saw her dad and explained stuff. Family is important.

This finally snaps Linda's bugging into focus for Wally: family. Wally's been icing his out and THAT'S what linda keeps being nervous about. So , not supposed to see the bride be dammned, he goes to iron this out in a beautiful scene that both explains WHY he's like this to his family, something we've clearly seen, and why Linda's in no danger

IT's really well done, and I like that Wally acknowledges his extended family.. did nothing wrong. He was just so determined to keep his parents away he accidently kept them away too and geninely wants to work on it. I don't think he DOES, but the comic both changes gears then changes writers after this, and I can't blame Geoff for not following up on this. He was never scared of her.. he just has bad parents.

I also like that the comic has the aseop that it's ENTIRELY okay Wally wants to push his parents away and wants nothing to do with them. There are far too many bits of media that ar elike "Oh your birth family is important, you shouldn't pusht hem away. Your parents mean something".. but forget that sometimes parents are abusive shit stains. I was lucky to get a wonderful mom and a dad I can at least talk to, but not everyone has a good relationship with their parents or wants to be around them. WE've seen how little they actually care about wally or his big day, and how much having them there throws him off. Yet we've also subtly seen.. wally HAS family. He's found family with the titans, with the League. You don't need blood to be a family. You just need love, to respect one another and to be there.. and Wally and LInda have that.

So it's time for the ceremony with the wedding party apparently only consisting of Beavis, Jesse Quick (Close ally of Wally's and fellow speedster) and Bart. It's then Wally realizes something and handles it like the responsible about to be married man he is.

Yeah the fastest man alive, who was hovering over his wife as she planned this ceremony... forgot his vows. it's so wally it hurts and i'm here for it. Thankfully he's the fastest man alive and after thinking back on their history, the good, the bad, and how she's always made him feel... he simply says his vows from the gut, which really is again the most wally west thing imaginable and i'm still here for it.

It's a beautiful speech that sums up their relationship, what they mean..and is also something Wally REALLY shoudl've thought through. You'd think after a decade as a superhero, at least he'd know not to tempt fate as suddenly.. Linda dosen't exisit. Wally finds something with her name, asks dick about it, Dick assumes wally horny Richard, and Dick dosen't even question the haunted wig in his apartment. Linda is trapped and yeah that's how the issue ends.

Yeah, the big milestone wedding.. ends with a fucking kidnapping and leads into an arc I haven't gotten to. And look i'll do a LOT for reasearch, I just covered 20 some issues of Transformers Robots in Disguise so I could cover the crossover with More than Meets the Eye next month, entirely so i'd do it right.. but even i'm not so through that i'd read 18 issues of the flash in an arc i'm eh about reading some day but will probably get to complete the mark waid run for a one and a half issue review.

So the short version of what you missed: Wally disappeared into time and space without LInda to anchor him. Replacing him was Wallace West, an angsty wally from another timeline who replaced him for a while, a storyline I mostly know about because it leaked into JLA for a bit, with Wally revealing his identity to a few people to get their trust. Wallace was the darker and edgier flash no one asked for, fought crime, fell in love... and then Wally came back and rescued LInda, who it turned out had been kidnapped by his old nemisis Abra Kadabra, a magician from the 60th century who as you can tell by how elaborate and dickish this plot is, has a flair for both trying to ruin wally's life and the dramatic. Hilaroiusly, as I read, Wally gets him to undo it.. by pointing out no one knew what he did. So Wallace was supposed to go back and go back miserable because fuck him for wanting to be happy I guess. Can you kinda.. see why I have no real intrest in this storyline outside of Wally and LInda? Maybe pick that up?

So for expediency's sake and to give us a better ending we WILL be covering the flash #159.. but just the wally and linda parts as we don't really need Wallace's dramatic exit.

We do start on it though as the League demands he go home and can't take his girlfriend with him. He picked up a girlfriend it's a thing. Superman is being an uncharactristic super ass while Wally is being less than helpful.. albeit given Wallace DIN'T have his memories of Linda erased and could've been helping them, I can't say I blam ehim.

So once Wallace leaves to have one last good day, Bart, having the tact of a tornado on roller skates, asks when the wedding resumes. Wally decides right the fuck now and speeds into actoin to get everything: catering, her parents farmhouse ready again, the lisence.

Wally spends the day even more hyperactive than usual... which is somehow indeed possible. The superheroes around Linda assure her it's fine, with Donna being the only one to make sure things haven't changed. Linda still LOVES wally.. but she can see something's wrong. And unlike with her on the previous wedding day, Wally's FAR less subtle about it so I don't know why no one else is like "okay maybe we shoudl check on him.

We get to the wedding itself.. and Linda holds it, not wanting to Marry wally while he's having what's clearly a barely supressed emotoinal breakdown.

I love this because it really.. boils down their dynamic: Linda loves wally, who he is and dosen't doubt that for a second.. but she's also 9/10 the one who pulls his head out of his ass. Wally's a good guy, we've seen it here.. but he acts first asks later, and LInda's one the remind him that you have to slow down every once in a while and have a conversation. Also yeah, between Dick's wig and Clark's super pope hat he's bummed he didn't get to wear to this because you bastards didn't ask him to officiate, they've seen weirder.

Wally agrees, yeah that's it. He saw a version of himself who went down a dark path.. and really wasn't THAT diffrent. All it took was loosing linda, which is WHY Walter is an edgelord for the record. Linda.. isn't amused, especially since Wally implies part of this is to widen the gap between them. Wally's friends are.. less than sympathetic. Well okay Roy is. It's just roy actually, Max is worried and Jay knows they just need to work it out and will. But roy well..

That is both a perfect exchange for those two.. and entirely why Roy isn't invited to weddings that much. I only think he got into this one as Donna's +1.

Wally however.. assures her that's not the case and once again gets a fantastic speech in

It's a heartfelt speech and get's linda to just.. skip to the i dos, the two kiss and one of the most solid marriages in all of comcis begins. It's a beautiful speech.

As for the issues themselves.. their okay. Yeah for such a great couple and with so many great moments, the first issue feels a bit short, like we needed more time for the wedding and the whole stupid kidnapping plot means we get cheated out of a reception, which as we've seen from both Rogue and Gambit and Teddy and Billy's nuptial's, is often some of the best stuff, allowing a bunch of characters to bounce off each other. Instead since the circumstances are dire after the intital wedding and dire right before the makeup, with our heroes recovering for it, we don't really get to have FUN with this. There's good moments, but these weddings are a bit of a disapointment and I don't know what Mark Waid or Ediotiral was thinking with this. It's still JUST good enough to not be a complete waste of your time, I recommend at least 142, but it still coudl've been SO much better and it's a shame this is the first wedding for this feature I just. .haven't been that jazzed about. I wanted to like it. the art for the first issue does not help, being all kinds of rediuclous and giving us the enternal shame that is Dick Grayson's perm.

So where did Wally and LInda go from here? Well honestly.. marital bliss at first. As I said Geoff Johns run, a brilliant followup to what Mark Waid did that brought back the Rogues after Waid wrote them out and redefined Captain Cold, follows them as newlyweds: they deal with space, moving, and LInda going back to college for a subplot that ultimately goes nowhere outside of one kidnapping by a prince from another dimension. Story for another time.

The two were solid for the most part and even had an unexpected suprise: TWINS. The two were happy to start their family... but unfortuantely Wally's freshly minted new arch enemy Zoom undid the babies out of his warped thinking tragedy makes better heroes. Which it often does, but feels like a critqiue on piling on tragedy because "that's what sueprheroes are". Granted Geoff Johns isn't innocent of this, but it's still a good lesson.

Afterwards Hal Jordan wiped everyone's memories of wally's identity and after re learning it Linda disappeared before coming back, the babies were restored, and the two had a happy marriage again with kids till infinite crisis. Then wally was put through the SHIT for nigh on a decade until a recent return, a wonderful run you should check out by Jeremey Whitley and a sci fi run I haven't that sounds neat by by my Boy Simon Spurrier. The two aren't without conflict. .but they have a love and understanding that makes them get past it. Wally and Linda have a beautiful relationship and I can't wait to see them again on this blog some day.

For now thanks for reading.

#the flash #wally west #linda park #dick grayson #jay garrick #max mercury #wedding #valentine's day #superhero wedding #superhero #dc comics

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hwsforeignrelations · 10 months

Text

The Seaswept Cowboy

For @usukweek Day 3: Pirates and Cowboys

AO3 Link // Words: 2,320

Summary: Cowboy Alfred Jones, in a bid to escape the death of his horse Butters, flees to San Francisco in the mid-1800's looking for something new. To his luck, he runs into ex-Commander of the Royal Navy, Captain Arthur Kirkland.

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When Alfred found himself, for the first time, face-to-face with the industrial machinery of a port town he couldn’t believe his eyes. In fact, it was only Alfred’s second time in a metropolitan city. The first being that dirty scramble with a penny-pincher New York employer back in ‘42. San Francisco was a living, breathing town, from its steep streets to its seal-splaying wharf.

Alfred looked down at his cleanest pair of cotton trousers and the newly polished boots peaking out, brushing a self-conscious hand down the linen shirt already soaked through with the Summer heat. That morning a grey fog swathed the streets in a cold haze - now the sun had burned through and it was too late to change into something lighter. The cowboy thought about Matthew's letter sitting on his hotel room’s desk. ‘Be sure to layer, San Francisco weather is unpredictable’.

Mopping blond hair sticking to his forehead back Alfred laughed to himself. Hindsight; a damn useless human symptom. Not only was he still warmer than a bed of coal, but he also felt the biggest fool for not heeding the words of his omnipotent Canadian brother. Matthew was rarely wrong, which impacted Alfred’s inclination to listen less than most would imagine. Alfred firmly believed in following the gut. If good odds (and factual reality) supported that decision then all the better! Regardless, Alfred wouldn't have made a career out of hunting outlaws for bounty and dangling agitated cattle if he relied on odds. Ivan, his friend and a purser, said he ought to have been shot, trampled, and hanged a decade ago. Numbers lie.

Now Alfred felt the odds turning against him. The recent death of his old mare Butters brought on something of an existential crisis, if Alfred were capable of such an obstacle. Thirty odd years of hard living in the west made his pockets jangle with moderate wealth- a soul motivated by infinite curiosity and love of endless land was well suited to his line of work, and the tirelessness with which he approached bounty hunting and ranch work earned him an excellent reputation among county sheriffs and employers.

Desperate to escape and able to afford it, Alfred packed up and left within the week, set for new sights.

Thus Alfred found himself riding a cable car to nowhere. Blue eyes, sharp but warm, followed sights beyond glass panes. When his legs went stiff Alfred took to his feet and leaned outside the car, grasping a poll. Wind bit his face like it had atop Butter’s saddle. A tear caught him by surprise so that he barely managed to wipe the ones that followed.

At the next stop he jumped off, mourning the absence of his wide-brimmed hat. Instead of shielding the shame of emotion behind sturdy leather, Alfred found a secluded ally between two building and turned his face into the sunshine, hoping its familiar heat would dry his cheeks before anyone recognized weakness. Ten minutes later his face felt burnt and he ran a hand down his cheeks, trying desperately to avoid the thought that, after just a month of living and fresh clothes, his hands held no scent trace of Butters. He’d even scraped the decades-old dust built beneath his fingernails during a train ride. He felt old. The youth who rode Butters to her dying day had died alongside her chilled body, and Alfred wanted nothing more than to escape the weakness of his mind.

Alfred pinched his arm hard to prevent another wave of emotion and made up his mind. The next second he sat at a bar by the wharf with his ninth glass of whiskey. A shorter, thin man with a funny accent cradled his shoulders while he hiccuped around a thick throat and nauseous stomach.

“Now, there’s a lad,” comforted the stranger. The tone was so gentle and Alfred felt he might fall apart right onto this kind foreigner who dared show a sloppy drunk compassion.

“She was my gal, ya know? My reliable, hic, sturdy gal. I can’t face one more cattle drive without my gal; by the stars I wish I were anybody but myself, pal.” He gagged a bit at the end, but the man appeared as unperturbed by the threat of sickness as he had the past half hour.

“Looking for a new start, are we?”

Alfred couldn’t focus on the man's face but he heard his tone shift to something less casual. The hand on his shoulder, keeping him from toppling off the barstool, squeezed experimentally. As if Alfred were an animal being appraised for proprietors.

Alfred banished the thought. No need to overthink a kind gesture.

He nodded solemnly. “I had to get outta there. I ain’t sure I’m goin’ back, neither.” He picked up the empty tumbler by his elbow and peaked through it towards the ceiling like a telescope. “It’ll sort itself out, I’m, hic, thinkin’. Kill my liver for a few months and find my feet wherever they land, I s’ppose.”

The man smiled at him, suddenly. In Alfred’s addled brain it appeared almost predatory and the hold on his shoulder moved to his side, peeling him off the seat towards the exit. Alfred followed like a puppy- a tottering, drunk puppy. His travels hitherto had been absent of anyone like this man and he was both curious and confused enough to remain silent as the man led him nearer the docks.

They came alongside an impressive brig, its two square-rigged masts catching the sun brilliantly. This was obvious even to Alfred, brain foggy and slow with depression and drink.

The man considered the boat with admiration typically reserved for sentient beings. He glanced at Alfred, “This is my gal. We’re leaving port in two days time, and I’d be delighted to have a strong fellow like you on board.”

Alfred felt this proposition unfair in his current state, slouched over a waste bin and on the cusp of airing his paunch. Luckily, his metabolism was fast and he felt significantly soberer than ten minutes prior. He looked up at the ship (he had never even stood on one, never seen one in person) and back to the man’s raised (huge) eyebrow. The way the man's gaze kissed the sight of his ship reminded Alfred of Butters. He knew the answer before this outrageous stranger answered the question, “What’s the pay?”

“About $2000, if you can make it through the year.”

Alfred found his lips kissing the deck before he could respond. At least two bottles of whiskey spilled into San Francician waters. He stood, red from embarrassment, and wiped his mouth with the stranger’s proffered handkerchief, Alfred's clean hand was already out. The stranger took it.

“You’ve got a deal. The name’s Alfred Jones, happy to be of service.”

“Pleasure, Mr Jones. Captain Arthur Kirkland, ex-Commandor of the Royal Navy. Welcome aboard.”

The next morning Alfred and his few belongings were hoisted onto a deck bursting with activity. Barrels of salted meats and (Alfred assumed) gunpowder were hauled by seamen of great variety to their proper locations. Arthur (or Captain Kirkland, as he insisted to be referred to as and what Alfred would not be calling him) appeared behind him and made introductions to the crew of 250 or so.

Alfred was not the internationally-traveled sort and was caught off guard by the unfamiliar accents which greeted him. Nevertheless, he shook hands with as many as he could reach and eyed those giving appraising looks with false, toothy smiles. He was by no means the largest nor tallest man aboard, but he fairly soared over many and that was good enough to avoid feeling unnecessary uncertainty than this drastic change of scenery demanded.

Alfred thought back to the package addressed to Matthew Williams in Quebec. Hopefully the Ghirardelli chocolates wouldn’t melt into his letter. Mattie was too caring for his own good and Alfred avoided worrying him unnecessarily. Words edging on downright untruth, he’d thanked the Canadian for his heartfelt advice of the previous letter and briefly touched on his embankment. The news would not be received well, Alfred knew. Alfred had never seen a ship in person before yesterday - the seamen yelled was gibberish, even after he made out words through thick, unfamiliar accents.

Matthew might very well demand he abandon ship (what a funny thing for a cowboy to mean literally, Alfred chuckled to himself) and stay in Quebec while he found work more in-line with his expertise. But Alfred was not a man to break his word and a handshake was as good as any lawful contract. Looking around, he felt a familiar curiosity bubbling in his chest and was eager to learn this new way of life.

“We’ll start your training tomorrow, Jones. Berwald will show you where you’ll be sleeping.”

“Aye aye, Cap’n!” Alfred nodded, ambiguously sarcastic enough that Arthur only gave an unsure scowl before pardoning the large men.

“Here ye’re,” said Berdwald, sweeping his hand towards a hammock hanging from the timbers. It looked comfy enough and Alfred placed his possessions under it.

Berdwald spoke neurally so Alfred could place nothing about him. “Captain says you’re welcome to rest until dinner.

Then he was left alone.

His stomach felt tender from yesterday’s excessive drinking and the ship’s swaying motions as he settled down in his hammock. He must have been more exhausted than he thought, because when he awoke and climbed the stairs to the deck the sunset glowed over the water’s horizon. It was almost as beautiful as the western sunsets he was accustomed to. Perhaps even more so. The calm waves reflected the orange and pink sky tones.

Seamen chattered and jibbed in clusters around the deck, full from the supper he’d slept through. That was fine, he’d packed some cheese newly bought from the Ferry Building to help with his above-average appetite.

Arthur Kirkland appeared beside him, seeming in his element and admiring the sunset with an air of contented satisfaction. “How do you fancy ship life thus far, Mr Jones?” He spoke with that lilting accent. It was starting to grow on Alfred and he wanted to hear it more.

“Hammock’s real comfortable. Slept like a baby,” he yawned for emphasis, stretching his arms above his head. Arthur followed the motion with a strange expression. Were his ears always so red?

“Very good. I’m glad to hear it. Please let Berwald know any questions. And, I might pressure you to abide by shipman decorum and address the Captain as ‘sir’, if you’d be inclined.”

That surprised Alfred, unaccustomed to bureaucracy of any sort. “Um. Sure… sir.” It felt awkward and wrong on his tongue. He’d avoid using it as much as he could, Alfred decided.

The next few weeks proceeded with routine and much learning for Alfred, who had only just learned to climb the ratlines without fear of being whisked into the wind and plonked into the Atlantic. He pumped water out, learned to swab the deck, follow commands and tie knots strong enough to withstand the tension wind placed on the brig’s complicated rigging.

The ship’s name was The Untireable, a refurbished sloop-of-the-line. Privateering was their business, and two hours each day was dedicated to battle drills.

Captain Arthur Kirkland seemed to have taken a liking to Alfred early on, as he’d been asked to dine with him more than once. Arthur was somewhat lonely as captain, it was clear. He maintained a distance from the crew to keep morale strong, but that made for many isolated evenings. Alfred’s many adventures in the West were exciting to Arthur, who ate up his narratives with hungry ears. In exchange for his story-telling, Alfred was treated to some of the Captain's stores while the rest of the crew ate only what the galley served.

One night, as Alfred finished retelling the time he’d chased a bank-robbing pair of brothers through three state lines in winter, Arthur’s exhaustion impaired eyes left his face to glide (almost longingly, it appeared) down Alfred’s neck and to his open collarbones. The westerly gales had been unruly and many had endured sleepless nights keeping the ship on an even keel.

“Delightful story, Jo- Alfred.” Alfred had requested Arthur refer to him by his first name, at least during these private dinners.

“It wasn’t as bad as it sounds. Butters was a real trooper,” Alfred conceded.

“Wh-hu?!”

He jumped when Arthur’s foot brushed his leg.

Even then, Arthur didn’t move his leg. When Alfred met the captain’s eyes he was looking right back, face pink from either tiredness or embarrassment, Alfred couldn't say.

“What drink do you fancy, Alfred,” Arthur asked softly, turning around to his personal collection of bottles.

“I’m not the type of drink much of anythin’, Arthur.” The Englishman didn’t admonish him for using his first name, which gave Alfred the confidence to approach a topic he’d never given himself the freedom to consider until that moment. “But. I can appreciate a bit of everything. Some of the moonshine I’ve liked hasn’t even got a name, fact o’ matter.”

Arthur considered the words, back facing the taller man. He turned back around without taking a bottle down and bent so his face was close enough that Alfred could feel warm breath fanning across his cheeks. Holding Alfred’s eyes, his hand fell onto the American’s knee and slowly, waiting for Alfred to reject him perhaps, smoothed it up his leg until it rested just under his hip.

Alfred leaned in and smiled a bit. He missed the physical human contact his old work required and the hand resting near his belly was warm and comfortable. The room was hot despite the outside chill. Daringly, encouraged by Arthur’s gleaming eyes, he slid an arm around Arthur’s back and drew him in to nuzzle his neck.

“I think I’m going to keep you around for a bit, Mr Jones.”

#usukweek #hws england #hws america #usuk #hetalia #fanfic

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veteran-fanperson · 1 year

Text

Fool's Gold

This is a story I had already written for another ship which I subsequently deleted. Is already complete, so updates will be fast. Ram is an orphan in this one, but with no secondary family either. Babai features as Ram's friend and colleague instead of his Babai. The world setting is pure fantasy.

Not beta-read, please excuse any errors.

Summary:

The Kingdom of Malayadripuri, impoverished, inhospitable, set in the midst of barren hills, has long been subservient to the Gond Empire. Too beaten down to fight for independence, her people live in abject misery. An order from the Gond Emperor arrives one winter's evening, pushing Malayadripuri to its limits, forcing them to take a stand.

Rama Raju, one of the Royal Mages of Malayadripuri is sent to Tamaramandalam, the capital city of Malayadripuri. His mission is simple - Assassinate Komaram Bheem, Emperor of the Gonds.

Read on AO3 here.

Reliefs of Paidamma Talli, the Goddess of Agriculture, Hunting, Hearth and Home, decorate most buildings in the Kingdom of Malayadripuri. The Goddess is always depicted surrounded by livestock, her heavy breasts leaking milk, her hair decorated with a golden wreath of barley. A bow lies on her lap, flowers bloom at her feet and a tender green pumpkin vine twists itself around her ankle. She has an expression of benign nobility, her arms outstretched and bountiful.

Worship me , she seems to say, and I will fulfil all your desires .

Looking at the cast gilt-bronze panel in his room at the Guild, Rama frowns. It doesn’t matter how hard the desperate peasants of his homeland beseech her, any harvest the poor soil yields is immediately seized to offer as a tribute to the Gond Empire, leaving them with a pittance.

By the time the next sowing season comes round, peasant families are nearly always a member or two short, dead of hunger or the bitter cold.

Rama’s own parents had died when he was a mere infant, his father hanging from the rafters after realizing he couldn’t support his wife or their baby through the winter. His mother had followed shortly after.

Paidamma Talli is a symbol of their compliance to the Gonds, a gesture of their submissiveness to the Gond Emperor.

Rama hates the very sight of her.

“We have been summoned for an audience with the Prince,” Venkateshwarulu, his partner-mage at the Guild whispers to him as they sit down for breakfast, magically charming open the letter that was just delivered.

“Does it mention why?” Rama asks him, cutting his steamed tapioca into careful pieces.

“None at all. Just that it is a matter of great importance and secrecy.”

“It always is,” Rama sighs.

“Ugh,” Venkateshwarulu complains, frowning at his pongal, “this is horrendous. I do wish we get a more acceptable cook sometime soon. Even the servants at home eat better meals.”

Rama shrugs and eats his breakfast silently. Venkateshwarulu is the only child of one of the few noble families of Malayadripuri and has grown up in the lap of luxury, but Rama has subsisted on Ragi slop and rancid khichdi in the orphanage. Even if he had survived into adulthood, he would have been nothing more than yet another landless laborer, toiling all day during the season for a bit of grain and a corner to sleep in.

His magic had saved him from that life.

Rama braids his long hair carefully, tying it off with a piece of black string. His angavastram is lying on the bed behind him, along with the ceremonial staff presented to him on his graduation. He preferred the rougher, mahogany staff he had crafted himself, though the ceremonial one was better at focusing his magic. Its fault lay in the fact that it was far too delicate to wield in a real battle.

Rama takes one last look at himself before draping the angavastram on, an uncomfortable navy blue silk one with a large zari border. There’s gold filigree work throughout and he hates how he looks in it, another pompous, empty headed nobleman, living off the blood and tears of the desperately poor souls under them.

He remembers the day he left the orphanage clearly. He had been with Gayatri that morning and they were playing cops and robbers. He had almost caught up to her when she started screaming- high, shrill, screams that reverberated down the stone corridor and brought out one of the attendants, a cane in his hand, ready to thrash the offending child. He had stopped short as well and gaped at the ring of purple-green fire surrounding Gayatri, a fire no one could extinguish. Rama himself had fallen backwards in his fear, eyes fixed on the noxious looking flames. Someone had run to fetch the local mage’s assistant — a thin, wiry young man with pince-nez on his nose and a pinched expression.

“It’s not real fire,” he had announced, stepping closer to the terrified Gayatri, his pince-nez illuminated by the eerie flames, highlighting his sunken cheeks.

Rama had known they weren’t real, though for the life of him he couldn’t explain why.

“Then what is it?” the orphanage head had asked him, her tone wary.

“An illusion. Take them away, boy,” he had snapped at Rama, thwacking the prone boy’s back with his staff.

Rama had trembled, weeping. He tried to will the fire away, but couldn’t.

Huffing a disgusted sigh, the man had chanted a counter spell.

“He has potential,” he had said, “my master would like to have him at the Academy. If he’s no good we’ll send him back, but otherwise he will stay there.”

Of course no one had objected, and at the tender age of ten Rama had found himself inside the walls of the Academy, bound to be a servant of the Prince ever after.

It was only years later that he had found out that anyone who found and sent a child with magic to the Academy would be rewarded a hefty amount. He had always wondered what price he fetched.

“Rama?” Venkateshwarulu knocks at the door, “it is time to go.”

“Very well,” Rama says and steps out into the cold.

The portrait of Anandalakshmi, the legendary crown princess of Malayadripuri, smiles down at them as they enter the Prince’s private sitting room. There are three other men already present. One of them Rama knows well enough — Krouncha, minister of state and one of Prince Viraata Shourya’s right hand men. The other two he only knows by sight — Ravisimha and Udghata, both members of the royal guard. They were both accomplished warriors, but as a mage he had very little to do with them.

“Your Grace,” Venkateshwarulu says as he and Rama bow deeply.

“You are late,” Viraata Shourya states coldly, “but no matter. Venkateshwarulu, charm the doors and windows. Rama,” he says as Venkateshwarulu hurries to do his bidding, “we have summoned you both here on a matter of great importance. Would you be so kind as to read this document aloud?”

“Yes, my lord,” Rama says, taking it from him.

The letter is from Tamaramandalam, the capital city of Gond. It has the red tiger seal and sign of Komaram Bheem, the Emperor of Gond, and is addressed to Governor Abhaya Samaragiri of Malayadripuri, their official contact with the Empire.

Rama is well aware that Viraata Shourya is only a demoted King, his title but a courtesy one, all the power rests with Governor Samaragiri. Malayadripuri is but a vassal kingdom to the Gond Empire, and it has been for hundreds of years.

“Double the tribute?” Rama stutters as he reaches the offending line. Behind him, Venkateshwarulu utters a shocked gasp.

“That will be all,” Viraata Shourya says, taking the letter from Rama’s lifeless fingers, “I am sure it has dawned upon you that this is a very... unreasonable request.”

“Our people will starve,” Rama says, “we cannot survive this.”

“Can we talk to the Governor?” Venkateshwarulu asks.

“We have tried appealing to Governor Samaragiri. He refuses to intercede,” Krouncha says, his face impassive.

“Your Grace, can we send an ambassador to Tamaramandalam to request - ” Rama starts to say, but is cut off by Krouncha’s booming voice.

“And have that attempt fail as well, like the innumerable times we’ve sent desperate messages before? This is hardly the first preposterous demand the Gonds have made.”

“I...” Rama says, looking at the red seal with disgust, “what do we do then, Your Grace?”

“I have thought long and hard about this,” Viraata Shourya booms, “my first and only concern is for the people of our kingdom. We owe no loyalty to the Gonds. They are barbaric people who do not care for our suffering. You all know very well that our peaceful kingdom was attacked, our people enslaved, our land captured, all because the ancestor of the current Emperor wanted her .” He waves at the portrait of Anandalakshmi.

Rama knows of the legend. How the beautiful princess was kidnapped in the night by men who claimed to be ambassadors from the Gonds over two thousand years ago. How her broken-hearted father sent his army to rescue her, hoping to find her before they escaped. They did not expect the entire might of the Gond army stationed at the border and were utterly routed in less than a fortnight.

“Since we lost the war, we have been little but slaves to the Empire,” Viraata Shourya hisses, “generations of Emperors have come and gone and Malayadripuri is being bled out drop by drop by each one of them. We need to gain our freedom once again.”

“But Your Grace, we cannot afford a war,” Venkateshwarulu says, his face pale.

“We are not going to go to war,” Viraata Shourya states, “the four of you are going to travel to Tamaramandalam within this week. You will seek employment within the royal palace, gain their trust. Once you achieve this, on my signal, you must assassinate Komaram Bheem.”

#ram x bheem #rambheem #my fanfiction #alternate universe #emperor Bheem #assassin Ram #enemies to friends to lovers #fool's gold series

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bluestar22x · 2 years

Text

Weary

Rating: Explicit

Summary: When a bounty leads Din Djarin back to the planet Sorgan after a passage of 5 years, he finds himself reuniting with Omera to ask her a favor that unintentionally leads to much more. Spoilers for Season 1 and 2 of The Mandalorian and Season 1 of TBOBF. Din/Omera

Other Info: Romance/Family themed (Also on fanfiction.net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/14107304/1/Weary)

When he had taken on the bounty for a sleezy, thin-haired slave dealer, Din Djarin hadn't expected to find himself back on the planet Sorgan, especially after five long years that made it feel like another lifetime ago. He wasn't sure how'd he'd avoided it so long either. Bounty hunting by nature had him chasing others all over the galaxy, but it wasn't uncommon to find himself in a familiar place. It had been only a matter of time before he'd find himself on Omera's home planet again.

There were few familiar faces on the planet besides hers and those members of her village, few lesser that he'd entrust with his son's life, so he set out with Grogu in a pouch slung over his shoulder, towards the tiny village.

While the kid had proven himself time and time again to be resilient and well abled to protect himself [and Din for that matter], there were times still that Din felt more comfortable leaving him behind in the care of a friend over having him alongside him during a hunt. This was one of those times, or so Din told himself.

In truth, a part of him wanted Grogu to see Winta and the other village children again. It had been a long time since the child had playmates that were closer to his mind's development, and Din was sure he missed them. Din knew the kid didn't forget anyone. Not that he'd ever confirmed it. Grogu's vocabulary was still basically zero, but his face always said everything that needed to be said.

Another part of him, the one Din hid from the universe, wanted to see Omera again. If nothing else but to see how she was fairing since their last visit. Despite everything he'd seen and been through the last several years, the changes and challenges he'd faced, Din was still very much part of what other Mandalorians called "the Watch", even after he'd been shunned by them for showing his face twice to living creatures – one of which was Grogu himself.

He hadn't regretted it, for he'd done it both times for Grogu's sake, but he'd been relieved when he'd been able to redeem himself and get back into the good graces of his people. As strict as their rules may be, they were still his people. His family. The ones he felt gratitude towards for what he did have. He didn't know where he'd be without them. No, actually, he did. He'd be dead. The droid from his childhood would've gotten him.

That other part of him though, the one who wanted to see Omera, the one who'd almost allowed her to lift his helmet the day they'd parted, wondered what it would be like if he'd stayed an outcast. Would he have continued in the Way despite it, or would he have strayed farther? Would he have given up bounty hunting altogether, once he was sure Grogu was no longer in the minds of the Imps and other hunters? Would he have died behind the helmet or in the palms of the hands of a friend or loved one?

Din's stride became hesitant as he closed in on the village. Maybe returning here wasn't such a good idea. The village, Omera, the memory of his time there with them, with her, always brought up feelings he had tried to shut out for years. He didn't want to feel resentment, even if it wasn't quite directly at the elders who had decided the creed of his people. He was proud to be who he was; he was proud to uphold their laws. That was The Way.

Grogu cooed from the pack he carried, and Din glanced over his shoulder at him. The child's nearly black eyes were wide, even more so than usual, and his mouth was tugged back in delight. He recognized the path they were on. He knew where they were going.

There was no turning back now. Din wouldn't deny him a visit with long-lost friends after seeing how happy he was to be there. Besides, he had a bounty to catch. He wouldn't be in the village for long.

He didn't recognize her at first. The years had turned her into a sturdy, yet sweet-looking young woman, focused on the task of carrying heavy baskets of krill to a cart on the edge of the village's main path out to town. Grogu did though. Maybe he'd recognized her smell. Maybe it had something to do with the Force. The child cried out gleefully.

Winta glanced towards the sound, towards them, and nearly dropped everything she carried, mouth agape. Moments later she grinned broadly, lowered the baskets in the cart, and yelled, "They came back!"

The whole village seemed to stare up at him and Grogu at the same time, making Din feel self-conscious. He'd never liked being the center of attention. The helmet helped, though. It didn't just protect his face, but his thoughts too.

Winta jogged up to them and Din lowered the pack to the ground so Grogu could hop out and wobble over into her arms. She scooped him up and gave him the biggest hug anyone would dare give someone his size.

"I missed you," Winta murmured into his ear.

The child smiled back at her, wordlessly stating the same to her.

Most of the village got back to work. A few of the other teens Winta's age joined her to fond over Grogu, along with lots of the younger children, who had never laid eyes on him before. Only one adult approached them, and her dark, calm eyes were on Din instead. Omera. She'd hardly changed since he'd last laid eyes on her. Warmth flooded him.

"Mandalorian," she said simply as she neared. "What are you doing here?"

"I need some help," Din informed her. "I've got a bounty here on Sorgan. I was hoping you'd watch the child for a bit while I collected. It should be fast. Maybe a couple days."

"You chose to come to us?" Omera quizzed.

It sounded like she'd wanted to say - you chose to come to me.

Din swallowed hard. "Out of anyone on this planet, you and your people are the ones I trust the most. And Grogu clearly missed the other children."

"Grogu?" Omera frowned, confused.

"That's the child's name," Din explained. "I found that out not so long after we left. Less than a year."

Omera nodded. "It is an unusual name," she commented, glancing over to the child. "But it fits, somehow."

"I agree."

"Did you ever find his own kind?" Omera asked.

Din shook his head. "I found those who did share…similarities, but they weren't his own. He chose me."

Omera smiled warmly. "I am not surprised."

She gave a nod to her home. "Are you hungry?"

Din shook his head again. "I need to go before my bounty decides to skip off to another planet. Will you keep an eye on the little guy?"

Omera nodded, and smiled again. "Gladly."

"Thanks."

Din had turned around and was already a few yards back up the trail to town when he heard Omera call out to him.

He paused, and swiveled in his spot to glance back at her.

"Good luck hunting," she said.

He tilted his head at her silently and continued on his way, not trusting himself enough to say anything in return.

The Mandalorian returned the night two days over, in near pitch-black darkness, slightly limping but seeming well otherwise.

Omera was not sure what had kept her up late that night but maybe it was the gods. Maybe they'd known she'd wanted to be awake to welcome him back from his hunt.

It was a silly, youthful notion. Why would she want to? She'd never seen his face; didn't even know his name, and yet there she was, standing by her front door anxiously awaiting him. She'd gone years without considering being with another man since her husband had passed and still more years since she'd watched the Mandalorian leave in one of the carts, putting integrity and the safety of his newfound son before his own secret desires.

She hummed and thought that the galaxy was immensely unfair for making her love a man who was forbidden to love her back.

She withdrew from her pondering once he was in arm's reach.

"You are hurt," she stated calmly.

He shrugged. "It's just a scratch." It was the truth in his mind, Omera was sure, but even through his helmet's respirator she could hear the pain in his voice.

"Come inside," Omera said. "I have healing ointment to treat your wound."

She could tell from the way he shifted in place that he did not feel comfortable taking her offer, but he did anyway. "Alright."

He followed her into her tiny home, to the kitchen table, where he laid a few of his bulkier weapons out, and slowly lowered himself into one of its chairs. She collected a first aid kit she'd constructed years ago and sat down in the only other chair present. Silently, she located the deep gash on the side of his right leg, one made from a knife. It was no longer bleeding, but judging from the dried blood caked onto the dark brown cloth of his pants and his bright armor, she deduced that it had for a while. She also guessed from the faint burn marks she'd observed on his skin that he'd used something electric to stop that bleeding. She gingerly reached out to the wound and began to clean it with a cleansing wipe, then applied to it a healing cream her people had created centuries ago. It was the next best thing to bacta spray. He didn't even flinch once the entire time.

"Where's the child?" the Mandalorian inquired as she finished up.

"Out in the barn with Winta," Omera replied. "I found them there a few hours ago, fast asleep. I couldn't disturb them to get them inside. Besides, it is summer. More comfortable in an airy barn to sleep than it is in here."

The Mandalorian nodded and cautiously stretched his injured leg out after she backed away. "Thanks for watching him, and taking care of my leg."

He was reaching for a currency pouch hooked up to his armor. Without thought, Omera grabbed his wrist to stop him. He froze, startled.

"Don't insult me," she said calmly. "He was a perfect angel. You do not owe me anything."

It seemed like he wanted to argue, but ultimately decided to hold back on the temptation to do so. He was smarter than he looked.

"Did you think of me?" Omera inquired softly, surprising herself almost as much as she clearly surprised him, judging by his body language.

He swallowed, and she got a clear, distinct image of him licking his lips, even though she could not actually see him do it. "Sometimes," he admitted.

For someone of his culture, it was a profound answer, she knew.

"Nothing has changed?" she asked.

He released a sigh. "Much has changed. But not my values."

She nodded in understanding. He was a traditional man. She could respect that.

"I showed my face," he said hesitantly. She wondered what had convinced him to admit it at all.

"It was to save Grogu," he continued. "And it was to say goodbye to him. For a time we were parted, and for a time I was an outcast. I…was lost for a while. Then we reunited and I found the way to redeem myself."

To get back in their good graces, Omera thought. She found herself angry for him to a degree. He'd followed the Mandalorian creed to a T for most of his life, and they had thrown him away immediately for breaking it only briefly, for the sake of his son. And he'd been forced to go to what Omera suspected was great lengths to gain back their company. She believed there was injustice in that. They were supposed to be his family.

Maybe he'd been alone until Grogu came into his life. Theirs was certainly the only familial relationship he'd had since his childhood that had been both meaningful and unconditional.

"I don't regret showing my face," he told her. "Grogu needed it."

She suspected that he had needed it too. "You are not the same."

The Mandalorian agreed. "Not completely. He has a way of doing that to people. I've gained some very unlikely allies through him."

"You talk more than you used to," Omera noted. "I've learned more about you tonight than I did during the weeks you stayed to help us defend our village."

"Grogu," he mused.

"Do you think you will continue to change?" she inquired.

"I don't know," he answered honestly, voice strained.

Omera studied his helmet as if she were studying his face. She couldn't see his, but he could see hers, and that was enough to warrant it.

"Winta missed Grogu, but I missed you too," she told him selfishly. She didn't want to make him feel guilty. She didn't want to pressure him. She still couldn't go without telling him.

He flinched. It wasn't a huge motion, but enough for her to notice.

He was quiet for a beat, then said, "I've bent the rules for Grogu often enough, but I'm not sure I'm ready to for anyone else."

Omera's shoulders sagged. She understood this. The disappointment still stung a little. She got to her feet. He did too. He stopped her, resting a hand on her shoulder as she tried to turn away.

"But...I want to," he admitted so lowly she'd barely heard. For a moment Omera wondered if she'd imagined it.

"We are under a new leader," he continued. "Technically following the rule is purely out of tradition, not necessity. But I'm not sure if it'd be fair to you. I am not ready to let go of the creed. I may never be. Even if I did, I am a bounty hunter. That won't change. I am who I am."

Omera nodded. She knew what he was saying. He couldn't promise her anything.

"I don't want a promise," she eventually decided. "Just tonight. If that is not unfair to you."

She saw his adam's apple rise and fall dramatically. He did not say anything in return. She silently and slowly reached for his helmet, as she had the day he'd left.

This time he did not stop her.

He was handsome. Not in the traditional sense, but handsome all the same. Her eyes were immediately drawn to his. They were wide, expressive, watery. A little lighter than hers, but ultimately the same color of brown.

They were far more vulnerable than she could have ever imagined, full of unsureness created by years of being hidden behind a shield. His tussled, dark helmet hair added to his look, making him appear even younger than the eyes alone did, even though gray was scattered throughout it. The faint shadow of beard along his strong jawline only added to his appearance. It didn't make him look unkept, and it didn't age him in the slightest. He could've been anywhere between thirty-five and fifty.

He was nothing like Omera had imagined, but she wanted exactly him.

She reached up to brush his cheek, and he leaned into the palm of her hand automatically. She could see in his eyes how much that simple touch meant to him. The starved were always the most grateful.

"What is your name?" she whispered, warmed by the emotion on his face.

"Din," he murmured back. He suddenly looked weary, like he'd been fighting endlessly for years and was sick of it. She supposed that was likely not far off from the truth. At least for the night.

Omera leaned forward and kissed him, lightly, in such a way that did not obligate him to answer it. He kissed her back anyway, though hesitant, fighting against an inner turmoil she knew she would never truly comprehend. As he became more certain about his decision to do what he was doing, she recognized an inexperience to his motions. His predecessors had intentionally created the creed in part to cut them off from all strong connections except with their own kind. She was sure her conclusion was accurate.

He did not fumble for long once she responded favorably to his lips in return, pressing hers against his more roughly. He licked at her lips, and she parted them, letting his tongue slip through, and they kissed like that for a while as he gained confidence. He embraced her at the curve of her lower back, and she ran her fingers through his ruffled, curly hair. She tugged at the strands when he dipped his head to kiss her neck. She gasped. He was new to this, but he was not completely innocent, she figured then.

She led him to her bed, beyond the cloth that separated her room from the living area. He followed closely, not letting space get between them. Once by the bed, Omera removed his gloves and guided him in undressing her, parcel by parcel. They took their time, Din studying her exposed skin thoroughly as they progressed, desire clear in his eyes. When they weren't busy removing her nightwear, his hands wandered that skin. They were soft and unmaimed by his work, thanks to his gloves.

When she was completely bare, Omera paused to look him in the eyes as she reached for the armor that covered his chest. He recognized the unasked question held within the moment and began prying it off himself, along with the weapons that were hidden around it. She helped with the rest, kissing skin as it was exposed.

He was not extremely muscular, but he was fit, and his armor had done its job protecting him from all sorts of injuries through his lifetime. The only places he had scars were where his armor had not covered him – mostly his arms and legs. There were several cuts from knives and slices from swords. There were a couple from different kinds of lightsabers. There was even a scar she recognized as a healed blaster wound on his upper right arm. She kissed it lightly and he watched her do so, eyes smoldering.

Once they were both fully exposed to each other, they locked lips again, feverishly. Sureness had replaced Din's earlier timidness. Omera sensed he would not back away now. She pulled him the rest of the way to and down onto her bed. He kissed her from head to toe, and made his way slowly back up, lingering over places he'd guessed would incite cries and shivers from her. He wasn't wrong. He wasn't perfect at it, but he was thorough enough.

When his lips found hers again, their eyes met, and she pulled him down by his broad shoulders so she could kiss his forehead. He nuzzled his face into her neck in response and settled on top of her, grunting quietly as he did so. They soon were moving timelessly together, hardly ever out of tune.

His hands and lips continued to touch all of her that they could reach, and hers did the same to him. He was passionate but yet gentle with her all the same. She was a bit surprised by his tenderness but yet also not. His job, his way of life, was an immense a part of him, but it was not all he was.

She had seen that in the very beginning, with how he'd interacted with his son, even though they were still getting to know each other back then. He was a good man at heart, and he was remarkably good at this, she thought before all thought was drowned out of her.

She cried out with pleasure when she could no longer hold on, and he did the same, shuddering and coming down on her and his elbows. He kissed her along her jawline one last time and pulled away from her slowly, almost unwillingly, and she turned to face him as he rolled onto his side, under her knitted throw blanket. She touched his face again with her palm, affectionately, and he closed his eyes.

"I…" he began, in a husky tone.

She hushed him, not wanting to hear whatever he had to say, good or bad. They'd already spoken enough for the night, she thought. They could talk more in the morning.

He seemed to realize this too, because he nodded in agreement and sighed, relaxing. For now, he was free of stress and worry. Free of any real thought.

Omera knew he would not be when he woke, but for now, he was, and that night he slept soundly beside her.

Din woke up to the smell of fire stovetop grilled fish and the sun shining through a crack in Omera's roof. He mused that she would have to get that fixed before the next rainstorm as he stretched out carefully in her bed. It was empty of all but himself, a few blankets, and a set of pillows, all in disarray from their conduct the previous night.

He lay there in the bed staring at the ceiling for several long minutes thinking about what he'd done. He felt a bit ashamed he'd given in, that he'd broken his creed again, and it had been for himself this time. After everything he'd been through to clear his conscious, he was back to square one once again, needing to wipe his slate clean once more.

Yet like those times he'd chosen to reveal his face for his son, deep down he knew he could not regret what he'd done with Omera. Even if it made what he had to do next harder.

He eventually willed himself out of her bed and strolled into her tiny bathroom to clean himself up with a cloth and slip back into his armor. He did it slowly but surely. This was what he wanted, today.

After he was fully covered, he entered Omera's kitchen area, where she was hovering over a pan of half-cooked fish. He wasn't sure what kind it was, but it looked and smelled delicious. Omera felt his presence behind her and glanced back at him. He could see disappoint in her eyes at the sight of him being fully dressed, but she recovered smoothly and smiled at him briefly before continuing to tend to the meal.

"Mind getting the children up?" she asked him.

"Alright."

He leapt at the chance to leave the house and paced over to the barn, tugging the doors apart. Winta was still asleep, laying on top of an old navy blue coat and a mound of hay. Grogu was curled up right next to her, but he was wide awake and staring back at him as he approached.

"Ready for breakfast?" Din inquired.

Grogu chirped a yes.

Din grinned under his helmet. "Get Winta up."

For once, Grogu did as ordered. The teenager beside him groaned, blinking her tired eyes awake. She glanced over to Grogu, then up to Din.

"Breakfast," he said simply.

She nodded and got to her feet. Grogu followed suit, and they both trailed Din back into the house. They all spent most of the meal in silence, everyone knowing what was to come later in the morning. Only Grogu looked remotely excited. He was always excited about eating live krill for breakfast.

After Winta helped her mother clean up after the meal, and Grogu had helped Din pack, in whatever ways he could, the four of them met at the beginning of the trail for goodbyes. Once standing there, Winta wordlessly scooped up and cradled Grogu in her arms for a few moments before returning him to Din and walking away to join a few friends by one of the krill ponds.

Din then slipped Grogu into the same pouch he'd carried him into the village with, and turned to Omera. He wondered if he could make this goodbye less painful for them both. He doubted it, but he still wanted to try.

"This isn't goodbye forever," he said to her, reaching out and holding onto her left shoulder.

She frowned at him. "I thought you couldn't promise anything?"

"I can if I intend to keep it," he told her. "I intend to see you again someday, but…don't wait for me."

He could clearly see her mulling his words over in her head, and when she understood. He was promising a someday, but not what it would be. And he was telling her in his own way to live her life. To marry again to someone else if that's what fate led her to. He was still not yet ready to leave his lifestyle behind, if he ever would be. Sometimes he tested the waters, but he did not stray for long. However, maybe when that someday came, maybe if she hadn't found someone else, maybe things would be different.

It was a wishful promise, but a comforting one all the same. Omera placed a hand on her shoulder, over his gloved one, and nodded at him. "Til then."

He nodded back. "Til then."

He gave her shoulder a final squeeze, then turned away from her and began his trek back to his ship, which he'd grounded ten minutes down the trail and out of sight. Grogu waved goodbye to Omera and the village one last time before curling up as Din moved, content.

Regret dripped into the pit of Din's stomach, a regret for not being whom Omera wished him to be. For not being the kind of person who'd give up his lifestyle for loved ones. He knew Grogu was happy with him, on their adventures, despite how grim it got sometimes, but he was equally as happy in the village among friends, getting lots of attention. He was happy wherever Din was. But Din was not. Not completely. He'd ultimately do whatever he needed to for Grogu, but as long as that didn't mean giving up on his creed, his lifestyle, he would not do so. For him it would be a great sacrifice, a loss of a huge part of his identity.

So, he kept walking, leaving as he'd arrived, though not quite the same.

#The Mandalorian #Mandalorian Fanfic #Din x Omera #Pedro Pascal Character Fanfic #Fanfiction #Mine

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firewvlk · 1 year

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Look who just woke up- is that VIRGINIA GARDNER? No, I must have been mistaken, that’s CIRI from THE WITCHER. I heard she is 23 and stuck here just like everyone else. Even in the 20’s, they still give off a LION CUB OF CINTRA, HEAVY CROWN, AND LAST CARRIER OF ELDER BLOOD impression. They’re known to be quite RESILIENT, but have a tendency to be VENGEFUL on their bad days.

Gender/Pronouns

cisfemale & she/her

How long have they been in Sydney?

a couple of years, real time

Job

investigative constable

Which suburb do they live in?

the rocks

Memories of their real life

full name is cirilla fiona elen riannon, or cirilla, but her dad and grandmother are like the only people who call her that. she prefers ciri.

born in 1251 to a princess in a kingdom called cintra. her mother died when she was very young, so she was raised by her grandmother, the queen, until the slaughter of her kingdom by her father & his empire.

she escaped & roamed around for a while before ending up in geralt’s care. he took her to kaer morhen where she was trained to be a witcher & trained in magic by triss, but once she started showing that she was a powerful source & they were all in over their heads, she was sent off to training under yennefer instead.

eventually joined a ‘ gang ’ called the rats after escaping from a bounty hunter her father hired & even had a relationship with one of the female members named mistle. i won’t go into details bc it was a fucked-up relationship. she did love her, though. or she thought she did.

had to watch them all die right in front of her, she tried to save them but was too late. the bounty hunter that killed her friends then imprisoned her and forced her to fight in an arena. she went through a lot of abuse at his hands & he would make her use drugs to ‘ up ’ her performance in the arena.

eventually escaped that, which is when she got the huge-ass scar under her eye. throwing stars & eyes don’t mix, y’all. ciri & butters stotch are proof of that. she nearly died from it.

escaped to a world of elves once she recovered. they wanted her to have a kid with the king elf, so they could get back the elder blood, but she wasn’t about that life & bailed back to her world & eventually reunited with geralt & yennefer

during the rivian pogrom, geralt & yennefer were both killed or nearly killed, i forget. ciri took them to malus island/isle of avalon to save them. she then world hopped again & met sir galahad & lived in camelot for some time.

then you have the events of the witcher games, where she lived mostly on the run from the wild hunt, who also wanted her for her blood/power. that went on for years until she & the witcher’s defeated them, and she prevented the end of the world/ithlinne’s prophecy.

after that, she became emhyr’s successor & empress of nilfgaard, not out of a desire to, but to stop the war & make actual changes for the better. bUT she still took up witcher contracts with geralt from time to time.

has been through a lot of trauma thanks to men, so she’s a lot more comfortable with women romantically & in general, outside of her witcher +jaskier circle.

still has more compassion for ‘monsters’ or nonhumans than humans, most days. she’s known as the witcher who hunted humans for a reason…

What was their fake life like?

tba, but she’s one of joyce byers’ fake life kids

#ciri intro.#thebridge: intro #abuse tw #death tw #drugs tw #i tweaked stuff from an old intro so this is long sorry not sorry. i love her

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heavenlymemoir · 2 years

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Shade Memories

For reference, Shade was my ‘name’! This is a post about my Golden Sun Adept memories!

TW: during the 5th section of this post, I talk about someone being burnt alive and them dying from it. There will also be mentions of blood.

I was a rogue assassin that hailed from a far off land, and was exiled for not completing a bounty, and lying about said bounty.

But when all of us (Felix, Jenna, Sheba, Piers, Kraden, and I), landed in Lemuria, it was a beautiful sight. Piers had to talk to the other Lemurians to allow us in, and Kraden couldn’t contain his excitement to finally be in Lemuria! I’ve never seen the old man beam with light more than he does over research. Back in my hometown, I always heard rumors about Lemuria. How it was shrouded in fog that would never dissipate, how the whirlpools there could swallow a whole kraken and a half, and how a fearsome monster guarded the way into Lemuria; and to think that Felix and his friends were strong enough to defeat it is an understatement.

Lemuria was. Absolutely divine! The technology there was really advanced, compared to the rest of Weyard. Time there seemed like nothing; mere minutes would pass in Lemuria, and outside days or even weeks had passed. We hadn’t explored much before Kraden needed to sit down for a while, bless him. He got so excited and his body nearly gave.

Kraden non-stop talked about Babi and his tales about Lemuria. Watching the happiness slow come back to him was really heartwarming. We stayed at the inn for the night, well, they did. I camped outside and stood watch.

So as I said, I was a rogue assassin, hailing from a kingdom. But, that’s not where I was born. I was technically from a small unknown village, way way way way on the east side of the Weyard map, one that barely anyone knew. It was a village called Dalelry; and it was a strange village at that.

They had a town elder, and they had very strict ‘laws’. If found parentless, you were outcasted. Now, they did make exceptions. Like if the father perished while hunting or out at sea, the children and belongings would go to the mother. If the mother died, vice versa. Now, if both parents died, the children and belonging would be split among the grandparents who whomever would volunteer to take them in.

Another law was; nobody could sneak out. And another was nobody could talk to, acknowledge, or even feed those that had been outcast.

The reason why I bring those laws up is because they affected me. I was found parentless on the edge of the village border, by a berry gatherer who’d heard the cries. She brought me back and they seen it wasn’t fair to throw a baby back into the woods, so they allowed me to stay until I was around 8 or so years old. But, nobody was allowed to talk to me still. By that time, I was deemed old enough and responsible enough, so they essentially yeeted me into the woods again

After that, it seemed like I was a bad luck charm to them. Natural disasters struck, droughts, famine. They all spread rumors that I was to blame, that their god basically birthed me from the middle of the land itself and that I was sent as punishment.

Fast forward to when I was around 12-13, and this is when my adept powers came into play. I was hunting some food late at night, because my camp had been pillaged by some wandering brutes, and left me nothing. I heard a blood curdling scream and went to check it out.

I was sitting in the shadows, and watched the whole thing go down. There was a boy my age who was on the ground, and just looked sad. I recognized him; he was the boy who would sneak out at night and bring me leftovers from his family, because he didn’t think it was right for me to get outcasted. A couple of the village kids found out and snitched, resulting in him getting punished. The scream I heard was his mothers, whom was crying and pleading with the elder. I understood what they were saying, but some things I couldn’t hear.

Basically, the elder had told the mother what my friend had done and explained the severity of the situation. That since he had snuck out so many times, brought me food, and was treating me as one of their own, he couldn’t be permitted to live anymore. They held a trial and all who were present had to vote; a vote to determine if he would be allowed to live and be exiled, or if he would die. All of them, but his mother, voted against him.

So they bound and gagged him, bound and gagged his mother to prevent her from screaming or trying to save him, and took her away. He could sense I was there, so he gave me a quick glance. I made a movement to go after him, but he quickly shook his head at me, so I had to stay hidden. They tied him to a stake and set some dead grass around, and lit it on fire.

I will never forget the scene. The way the fire quickly rose to him. The silence of the village. The crackling of the fire, the sound of his skin burning, the ungodly fucking smell of it all. All of my sense went numb. I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe. It felt like days went by. He didn’t even scream, cry for help, nor make a single sound.

I don’t remember much of what happened next. I do remember that an overwhelming feeling of hatred, rage, and anger bubbled inside me. When I came to, the whole village lay at my feet, and I had seen a trail of shadow dissipate from my hands. What lay before me were the bodies of the people. I looked at my hands one last time and seen the blood on me. On my hands. Feet. Body. Face. Everywhere. I had collapsed by the pile of ashes and burnt grass, and crawled closer to it. I felt… so tired. So mind-numbingly exhausted.

I lost my only friend. The only person who saw me as human and didn’t hate me, who instead treated me with kindness that nobody dared to show. I laid next to the pile of ashes all night, screaming and crying until my voice gave and I couldn’t cry anymore. That night, I shut off every single emotion. I would no longer allow myself to feel anything; because if I hadn’t allowed him to show me kindness or even started to fall in love with him, he wouldn’t have gotten caught. He wouldn’t have died.

I had gathered some ashes, forged a small necklace, and left that damn village behind. I travelled the lands, always wearing the necklace. My friend would always speak to me in common, and told me how he wanted to explore the world and be an adventurer when he grew older. How he would find so many treasures, and how he would always come back home to save me. He would tell stories of him pretending to be an adventurer, finding a cave full of dangerous monsters and a huge pile of gold at the end. His eyes always glimmered with life when he was telling these stories.

I explored the lands for him, always retelling my journeys to the necklace. I wanted to fulfill his dreams, his aspirations. I vowed to never let the necklace go, nor let anyone get close to me again. I vowed to travel every inch of every island, continent, cave, and every space imaginable.

I came across a kingdom one night, by accident. I was supposed to visit Vale, as that’s where the Sol Sanctum is located. The kingdom was called Sidon, and was ruled by the High Empress Eleanior. I stayed in the shadows for a few nights, just to get a feel for how the kingdom worked. I was at the local tavern when I seen a flyer that stated the Royal Guards needed a new cook and maid. I paid for my drink and left, and went to the castle. I asked around, and was brought to the Head Guard, whom looked at me, and basically told me to start working. And so I did. For months.

One night while I was gathering the laundry and dishes, the Head Solider asked if I wanted to come watch them train. I agreed, finished my chores, and went. Heard Guard was there and snickered at me, since I was still in my maid uniform. He jokingly asked if I wanted to shoot one of the bows and I agreed, much to his surprise. So I notched and shot the arrow, straight into the dummy. The shock and silence of the men, who just seen a scrawny ass woman in a maid outfit shoot a bow almost dead center of the dummy, was amusing.

So I was told to leave my post as a maid and come join the men. I agreed because I would have gotten better housing and somewhat better food anyway. A couple more months go by, and I go from scrawny and barely any muscle mass, to being built. I barely would sleep because I just kept seeing that night replay in my mind, so I’d often go a couple days without proper amounts of sleep.

Head Solider corners me one day, asking why my performance isn’t as good as the other days. My groggy self lets loose that it’s because I have issues sleeping near people and I prefer the shadows, because it’s where my powers make me feel comfortable.

He gives me a look and demanded to know what I mean by powers, and I instantly shut up. He drug me out to the field in the pouring rain, and started yelling at me. I could tell he was just trying to get me angry so I could show him what I meant, but I refused to get angry. Until he went to go grab the necklace, that is. I instantly shot my hand out at a dummy and obliterated it into a pile of foggy, well, nothingness.

That got Eleanior’s attention, so I worked my way up from rookie, to trainee, to trainer, guard, royal guard, royal solider, to being the Empress’ right hand woman.

My job was to be a bounty hunter, in a sense. Lady Eleanior would give me targets, mainly of criminals or rivaling politicians and whatnot, and she would pay me per bounty I completed and turned in. At this point, I had completed a lot of bounties, earning me titles among the men of the castle. “The Undying Shadow”. “The Shade of Silence”. “Silence of the Damned”. I was feared, respectfully. Nobody would look me in the eyes, and would always properly address me, despite the fact they all once belittled me.

My last ever bounty was the Head Guard’s son, Jon. He had apparently been listening in on Lady Eleanior’s conversations and was going to the neighboring kingdom to rat, in hopes the King there would free his lover. I had infiltrated the prison hold and found Jon and his lover. He was holding her hands through the bars, promising her that she’d be free soon, and that at any moment, he’d give her the life she always wanted.

She then told him she was with child, and I felt my whole body stiffen. For if I did carry out my bounty, it wouldn’t just be Jon. It would be her and the child. So I stepped out, and announced myself. He drew his sword, and I put my dagger down on the ground and told him what was up. I told him I’d let them go only if he’d change his identity and never step foot back in Sidon. He agreed, I left, they were freed. He changed his name, and they had the happy ending. I, on the other hand, would not.

Lady Eleanior had sent one of her henchmen to follow me. The asshole knew how I travelled, and how I would carefully listen and watch to see if anyone was following me. Eleanior specifically chose him because of this. Well, he saw everything. Me sneaking into the prison hold, listening to Jon’s conversation, and letting him go. He would end up reporting back before I could.

I go back to Sidon, and tell Lady Eleanior my job was done. She sneered at me and told me that she knows I didn’t complete it. She wanted me to get angry and do something, so she could sick her henchmen on me, but once again, I couldn’t feel anything. So I just took off all the royal armor, my cloak, and dagger, and threw them at her feet. I looked up at her, and spat at her. I left, and was perused by her men.

And ever since, I became a nobody. I was just a wanderer, who lost someone so important, she couldn’t feel. I had stayed in some towns and would work for some coin, but I could never stay in one area for too long. I hated being alone. There were too many nights where I swear I could hear the whispers of the village folk, damming and cursing me. I often hallucinated too; seeing the townsfolk follow me with pitchforks and torches, and I would often see that one night.

I stumbled upon Felix and his friends in Champa. I was chasing after Briggs’ gang because they stole a gem from me, but I gave up after learning the state of Champa. As I was gathering my stuff from the Inn, I witness Alex and his gang corner Felix and them.

Alex, Karst, and Agatio, had Felix and his friends cornered. They were essentially bullying Felix, and I had to step in. Karst did not like that, and got in my face. I warned her she had 5 seconds to get out of my face or else, and Alex finally caved and made her step down.

Alex asked who I was, and why I was interfering with his plans. I told him that my name isn’t important, and basically told him that I knew everything about him and his two dimwit minions. He gave me a look, looked at Felix, and asked if I was with his group. He said no, that he didn’t know me.

Karst, being the foolhardy asshole she is, tried to stab me in the back but I dodged, and got behind her instead and put a dagger to her. I ended up branding Alex and his two minions with a seal that would seal away their Psyenergy if any of them would go against my conditions.

I gave them 3 conditions, and I had them vow to hold up to them and I would let them go.

Don’t harass me or them, put Karst and Agatio on a leash, and teach Karst some manners. Because some time, sooner or later, she would come to regret being all bark and no bite. Alex agreed and I let them go.

Felix allowed me to trail behind and stay with his group. I overheard Jenna and Sheba whispering in fear and sneaking glances behind the group. I didn’t mean to frighten them, honestly. I just.. Karst reminded me of the village and I guess instincts took in.

We had stopped at a small beach, so they could rest and sleep. They had set up their tents and had set up a small fire pit to warm some food. I sat on one of the logs, while Felix sat on the other end. Sheba, Jenna, and Piers all sat on another, and Kraden was sitting on the dirt. I asked if he would like my spot, and he declined and said that the fact he would have to sit so upright wouldn’t do his back good.

I seen they kept giving me scared looks so I offered to tell them about my past if it would ease their concerns. Piers, being the group’s mediator, said that I didn’t have to if I didn’t want to. I shook my head and sat my food on my lap, and went to explain everything. I would not look at their faces, but instead I kept my eyes on the fire.

When I got done explaining, there was nothing but silence. Felix had scooted closer to me during the time that passed while Sheba and Jenna had started to lean closer. They both looked down, and exclaimed they were sorry for being afraid. I tried to softly smile but realized I might’ve looked fearsome, so I stopped. I just softly nodded and exclaimed they had no reason to be sorry, for it’s my fault for not properly introducing myself to the group beforehand. Piers, well, he just had an extremely sad look on his face. I’m saying sad, because I’m unsure of what he was feeling. He voiced his sorrow by saying, although he cannot understand what all I’ve been through, he can understand the pain of losing someone close to you.

After some time, all of them had exclaimed they were starting to get tired. Jenna and Sheba went into one tent, while Kraden and Piers went into another. I noticed Felix had stayed behind, though. He was deep in thought, with his brow furrowed. Some time had passed and the fire was starting to dim out when he asked if I was going to sleep, and I said no. He heard my stomach and sat down, asking if I would like his sandwich that a woman in Champa made for him. I said no, that I’m not hungry, and my stomach growled again. He would go on to offer me half, and I cut it in half and stored it for later. We sat in silence for a bit, he stood up, and asked me to walk down to the beach with him.

We went and sat down, and we just enjoyed the silence. He had started to talk a bit, about how he’s sorry that I’ve had to go through all of what I did. I nodded, keeping my eyes on the ocean. He was silent for a bit longer, and asked what my name was. I had started to open my mouth, but then realized. I never really was given a name. I told him so, and said to just call me Shade. He nodded, and we enjoyed the silence once again.

I guess I fell asleep sitting straight up, because when I woke up, I was still in the same position, and Felix lay beside me. He had gotten his cover and folded it to be a pillow, and laid near me so I wouldn’t be alone. I looked down at his and studied his face for a bit. His long, brown hair had gotten tangled and was messy with the sand. His face had some soft lines, where he would constantly knit his brows together or grimace. He also had a slight scar on his right cheek, going down from his cheekbone to the corner of his lip.

And for the first time in forever, my mind was calm. I didn’t hear the voices, screaming, nothing. I didn’t see any hallucinations. My mind was at ease. I had sighed deeply and it felt like a weight was taken away from me. I held the necklace, and looked up just to see the sun start to rise. I guess Felix had awoken and had sat up, as he put his arm around me. I guess I stiffened quite a bit, because he started to move it back, but moved his arm back to me.

The sunrise was beautiful. The way the sun gently cast its colors upon the waves, the way the waves were so gentle in the morning, and the way Felix’s hand felt warm around my arm. I closed my eyes for a bit, just to relish the moment. I hadn’t been so relaxed in such a long time, that my body just didn’t know what to do. I felt panicked, yet I would be reassured by Felix when he felt me stiffen.

He asked me how I felt, and I told him cold, yet strangely a little warm, that the warm spot was right over my heart. I didn’t know what it was since it had been so long since I felt anything. I explained that it was like lighting a match amidst a blizzard storm. Despite the matches size, it offered some warmth.

He said it was hope. Hope? I clarified. He nodded, and patted my head. Jenna and Sheba ran down and asked what was going on, and Felix just shook his head and went to go pack everything up. I stood up, and took one last glance at the ocean, making sure to remember every small detail I possibly could.

More pending as I get more memories.

#shade ; kin memories

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syn0vial · 3 years

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do you by any chance have any more boba facts? 🥺🥺 i love it if you would grace me with your vast boba knowledge 🥰

i’d be happy to oblige, friend! here are some more miscellaneous boba deets, courtesy of the EU/legends 😊

though there are varying portrayals by different authors re: boba’s take on collateral damage, one of my favorites comes from one of the earliest boba fett stories. in it, boba is hunting han solo (of course) some time after the events of the original trilogy, but during the mission, things go awry and a civilian character is mortally wounded by a blaster bolt meant for han. boba, who in this timeline has never killed the wrong target before, proceeds to let han solo run away so he can check on the woman and, once he realizes that she’s too far gone to save, he administers something to ease her passing and kneels by her side, holding her hand until she passes away. it’s a surprisingly tender scene and goes to show that, as ruthless as he is, boba just isn’t willing to let someone die a slow, painful, lonely death for his fuck-up.

speaking of han, as boba gets older, he becomes deeply embarrassed by his “rivalry” with solo as a young man and will insist to anyone who brings it up that it wasn’t a thing and that han just tells everyone they’re “nemeses” for the Drama Of It All

this is infinitely more hilarious if you’ve read early EU work in which boba’s rivalry with han consisted mostly of boba obsessively hunting him while han is like “GET AWAY FROM ME YOU FUCKING WEIRDO”

speaking of things boba finds embarrassing once he’s older, at one point, he’s trying to verify the legit-ness of someone claiming to be telemetric (able to read memories off of objects), so he gives the man a necklace belonging to another bounty hunter he was romantically involved in as a teenager. boba is very skeptical and not expecting much, until the man starts reciting pick-up lines boba used at the wise old age of 16

cue boba just about dying inside

like, his thoughts are literally just, “OH GOD, IT’S ALL TOO STUPID FOR HIM TO BE MAKING UP ON THE SPOT, HE FUCKING KNOWS”

honestly, they’re less pick-up lines and more just. a very sincere list of reasons he likes this other bounty hunter.

“YOU’RE GOOD AT SHOOTING THINGS. YOU’RE PRETTY??? I TRUST YOU???”

love that apparently boba’s idea of flirting as a teenager was just frantically chucking heartfelt positive statements at someone in no particular order

to his credit, it did work 😂

the lowest amount boba has ever killed someone for is three credits. this happens bc boba is trying to save the son of a clone, connor, from his creditors, initially by offering to pay his debt of half a million credits for him. when the creditor rejects boba’s offer and insists that he’d rather kill connor, connor fishes into his pockets, produces three credits, and goes, “HEY, FETT, I’LL GIVE YOU THREE CREDITS IF YOU KILL THIS ASSHOLE FOR ME” and boba’s like, “u kno what, fuck it” and does just that.

boba in the aftermath of fucking up all the shit, standing next to connor in a room full of dead bodies, including one rancor: “you owe me three credits :/”

okay, now for some cultural stuff, starting with mando’a!

though boba in the mandalorian seems at least able to read mando’a script, in the EU, he doesn’t start to learn mando’a until he’s much older

naturally, some of the first words he picks up are curse words LMAO

man is a stoic, battle-hardened bounty hunter and he still learns languages like a fucking fourth grader

aside from cusses, two words he has particular reactions to are aruetii and ba’buir

aruetii means “outsider” or “non-mandalorian” and boba feels weird and self-conscious using it bc, uh... that... probably includes him in the eyes of most mandalorians, huh?

ba’buir means “grandfather.” in the EU, he does indeed have a granddaughter who calls him this and he becomes quietly attached to the it as a term of address—to the point where, when his granddaughter refers to her grandmother as “ba’buir” as well, boba has a moment of “hey wait, that’s my word >:(”... before remembering that the word can be used for both. GENDERLESS NOUNS, BAY-BEE

boba has... mostly negative feelings about the mandalorian view of the afterlife or the manda. basically, it’s a collective consciousness of every mandalorian who has ever died. non-mandalorians don’t go there bc according to traditional mandalorian belief, non-mandalorians don��t have souls

it’s quite telling that the normally not-very-expressive boba winces when the topic of the manda is brought up. and then when he’s asked what his problem is, he has a whole list of questions/objections to the manda as a concept. what if a mandalorian doesn’t want to go to the manda? do you have to spend eternity having your consciousness mixed with real monsters like tor vizsla and montross (mandalorians associated with death watch responsible for orphaning/betraying boba’s father)? what if you have non-mandalorian family members? are they allowed to come? and if an exception is made for them, why not the rest of the galaxy?

it’s interesting, bc clearly this isn’t a subject boba doesn’t know or care about; he’s obviously thought about it a lot to have all this to say about it. honestly, i wouldn’t be surprised if he put so much thought into it bc it may very well have been the afterlife jango believed in.

also, to end on a lighter note, boba is hilariously bad at all the like... leadership parts of being mand’alor.

there’s one scene where beviin drags him to a town hall meeting and all the other mandalorians are arguing over whether they should involve themselves in the new republic’s conflicts or not and boba’s like, “wow, this is really interesting. let me just quietly listen to all these different points being raised and think about—wait, why is everyone looking at me—oh. oh shit, they’re expecting me to actually say something.”

POOR MAN JUST WANTS TO GO BACK TO THE GOOD OL’ DAYS OF HAVING FOUR LINES ACROSS THREE MOVIES. STOP EXPECTING HIM TO MAKE WORDS 😩

#captainmunroe #boba fett #just a heads-up for future information requests: don't be afraid to ask for specific topics! :)#for example: boba's views on XYZ or instances of boba + theme #i can try and do my best without guidelines but it can be hard for me to decide what people might find interesting #and i'll just fling spaghetti on the wall like i've done here :'D #i hope some of the spaghetti stuck though!

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redrobin-detective · 3 years

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From a young age, Jack Fenton wanted a life of adventure and excitement. Working on his family’s quiet farm in the middle of nowhere never sat right with him. Late one night, he sees something he can’t explain in the woods which sparks a lifelong passion for the supernatural. He worked day and night at various odd jobs once he was old enough in order to save up money for school. Pa and him had a huge row when he saw how much money Jack had saved over the years. That money could’ve bought new equipment, could have put food in his sisters’ mouths. But Jack held fast, he loved his family but he needed to find his own way and he wouldn’t find it here. As soon as he got his acceptance letter for his college of choice, he left the farm and never looked back.

Rooming with Vlad Masters was a struggle at first but his roommate’s intense desire to prove Jack wrong about ghosts eventually sparked a friendly continuing argument which just became friendly in general. Jack was too loud, too enthusiastic for everyone else, almost always the biggest and broadest guy in the room. Jack first met Maddie during college orientation, or rather he met her bountiful bushy red hair 3 rows up that his eyes kept wandering to. He met her properly when they got into an intense discussion of the use of the supernatural in fiction during literature class. Girls had never registered for Jack before, always seemed less interesting than his research. But Maddie, she like a revelation in and of herself. They continued their debate after class, into the dining hall where Vlad somehow got roped in. They exchanged phone numbers and continued their theories long into the night. They never really stopped.

Maddie was like the campfires Pa used to make when he was young. She was small and contained but with an all-encompassing energy that warmed everyone around her. He finally met his match with her, her enthusiasm encouraged his and vice versa. Her mind thought differently from Jack but in a complementary way, he did his best thinking when she was there to bounce ideas off of. As close as he and Vlad were, sometimes the whole world disappeared when Maddie was around. Vlad proclaimed his desire to date Maddie on a couple of occasions, asking Jack to back him up. Jack never knew how to answer, it should be okay as long as the two of them were happy and he and Maddie could stay friends. But he couldn’t just ignore that chemistry he felt when Jack’s eyes met hers.

Vlad’s accident occurred not long afterwards, he was stuck in the hospital and forced to drop out of school their last semester. The guilt ate away at Jack but Maddie made things better. He danced with her for their last college dance, kissed her for the first time as they threw their caps into the air for graduation. Being with her was like being whole for the first time in his life. When he got down on his knee and asked her to be his lab partner for life, it was the best thing he’d ever done. They had something of a shotgun wedding, neither of them had two nickels to rub together both coming from poor families and a load of student debt. Jack couldn’t afford to rent a suit so he wore his hazmat suit, figuring Mads would get a kick out of it. When she walked down the aisle with her lab goggles on, he knew he’d found the one.

They moved to Amity Park, a peaceful but still bustling suburb an hour outside Chicago. In their research, they’d discovered several anomalies in and around the area that suggested it was a hot bed of paranormal activity. They bought a house and worked on making it their own. Maddie initially hadn’t wanted children, wanting to focus more on their work. Jack, however, had come from a big family and had wanted kids even when he’d been a kid. Many long discussions and time to settle and soon they had a beautiful daughter. He asked to name her Jasmine. His mother had loved the smell and kept it around the house growing up, even years later, the scent calmed him. Looking at the precious girl in his arms, he knew that she would be his new home.

Danny had been a little bit of a surprise. Him and Mads were content with their chatty, precocious daughter. They hadn’t even discussed having a second when they found out she was pregnant several months in. She hadn’t been symptomatic, Maddie fretted the rest of the pregnancy, worried she’s inadvertently harmed their child by exposing herself to chemicals. But everything turned out alright, Danny was born just fine, if a solid pound smaller than Jasmine. While Jazzy had wailed and wailed, Danny was a quiet baby, instead choosing to look around with wide, curious eyes. When he gripped Jack’s finger and brought it into his little mouth, Jack was smitten.

He loved being a scientist, a husband, but Jack especially loved being a father. Maddie said he never quite grew out of being a kid and he agreed with her. The sound of his daughters delighted screams as he ran around the house with her on his shoulders. The beaming smile Danny gave when Jack held him up high so he could be closer to the night sky. He loved his work, an obsession he was more than willing to admit, but his heart truly lied with his family. Jack could have lived an eternity in those early days when his children looked up at him like he could do no wrong. Of course, it wouldn’t last. Children grew up, socialized and learned that ghost hunting wasn’t the cool, legitimate profession they’d believed. His kids loved them but there was a separation that hadn’t existed before, a disconnect of a passionate farm boy searching for the unknown to modern kids who didn’t understand what it meant to to crave understanding.

Maddie was the one who shopped the idea of working on the portal again. Jack had been skeptical at first, it had been his dream but after what happened with Vlad and with the kids still living in the house... But Vlad was fine now, on his way to being a millionaire the last Jack heard and his thirst for knowledge couldn’t be quenched. It took years to draw up the schematics and begin building. The process was slow, made slower by Maddie going back to school for her second degree in psychics, by losses of funding, taking shady government contracts to put food on the table. When he saw the sad, hungry looks on his kids’ faces when they had discount TV dinners, he finally understood his father’s anger over Jack selfishly hoarding money for college. But years of blood, sweat and tears saw the fruition of their dreams completed.

The portal hadn’t worked right away to his immense disappointment only to miraculous start up when him and Maddie weren’t looking. Danny started acting sick immediately after, enough to scare the hell out of Jack. Visions of Vlad’s ecto-scarred face and the sounds of him vomiting up blood and ectoplasm haunted him. Not his Danny, not his sweet boy. But Danny recovered and things seemingly went back to normal. They say hindsight is 20/20 but Jack will curse himself until the day he died for not seeing the signs until it was spelled out for him. He knew Maddie and him were unconventional but he tried to foster love and trust in their home. The idea that his son didn’t think he could come to them for the dramatic changes the portal had done to him, that he was scared of them. Jack wept heartily at the thought of how he’d failed, that he’d been the sort of prejudiced, uninterested father like his Pa had been.

So he’d gotten down on his knees, making himself smaller and less threatening to his boy - he was so tall now, when had that happened - and asked for another chance. Danny, always too kind for his own good, forgave them. He said it before Jack believed he meant it but it was the biggest relief he’d ever felt in his life to have the opportunity to make things right. It was hard, erasing decades of biases. To not jump when Danny acted a bit too ghostly, to not to correct him when his boy made some comment on ghosts that Jack disagreed with. But he listened and he learned and even though his heart was already fit to burst, he found more love in his heart for his son. His son, who carried a heavy burden with dignity and grown into twice the man Jack was when he hadn’t been looking. Jazz too was paving her own way forward with the same zeal and intelligence that Jack admired so in Maddie.

His wife, his friend, his lab partner for life stood by his side as their children left home to change the world. When he was young, Jack dreamed of excitement, of never-ending exploration and fearsome battles. He got all of that, and more, but he also found something else. Jack found people who loved him for all his eccentricities, who he felt free to be as loud as silly as he desired. He raised two beautiful children who he loved more every day and who he knew loved in return. He wished he could tell his younger self that while excitement put hair on your chest, his Ma and Pa had been right in that family was something worth investing in. Jack Fenton made staggering advancements to the field of ectology over the years but his greatest accomplishment, should you ask him, would be living his best life with the woman of his dreams and their children.

#I've been drinking Love Jack Fenton juice the last few days #idk i just think he's neat #canon overeggaerates (as it does with most of its characters for comedy) but underneath he's a good dude #I feel like I blacked out and came to with this written #I have been typing for 40 minutes straight #I should probably put this blathering bs under a readmore #what the hell is this? is it a fic? a headcanon?#Jack Fenton is a good man and I will fight anyone who says otherwise

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witcher-lore-enjoyer · 3 years

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Viper Witchers

Cat | Griffin | Bear

Gorthur Gvaed

The Witcher School of the Viper made their home in the stronghold of Gorthur Gvaed. Guarded by a remarkable tower adorned by a frighteningly ominous spiral coiled around its contours. Yet it held not a candle to the terrifying moat that surrounded it—deep by several hundred feet and truly… breathtaking. No one could tell if what was filling it should still be called water. The smells above the moat were, to put it mildly, hard to forget. Viper witchers, who survived the fall of the stronghold, later joked that it was the stench that led the Usurper’s army to find Gorthur Gvaed. Countless soldiers died in this gutter. According to legends, so many perished that one could have made their way to the other side of the moat on a bridge composed entirely of their corpses. And the odour grew even worse

Located in Tir Tochair (a scarcely inhabited mountain range that divides the Korath desert from the modern-day northern and central provinces of the Nilfgaardian Empire. It is known as the largest lasting enclave of gnomes.)

There were many scrolls and manuscripts about the legend of the Wild Hunt.

Founder

Ivar Evil-Eye

There’s a terrible tale behind each and every scar⁠—you’d be surprised just how many are true.

Ivar was one of the unfortunate few who endured the mutations extremely well, and so was selected for further, more complicated experiments. Of those subjected to these enhancements, only he survived—perhaps due to the mages only managing to partially complete the trial.

As a result of these experiments, Ivar gained his moniker, as well as a new sight. His so-called “Evil Eye” saw a different world. Many other worlds, really. With his eye, he watched as ghostly riders dashed along the Spiral, and observed how they’d kidnap, kill, and conquer. Forever haunting Ivar’s special vision, these spectres became his obsession.

Training

Each student is given a pet to raise during their stay at Gorthur Gvaed, in order to form a strong emotional bond throughout their training. Years later, before becoming a fully-fledged witcher, they are ordered to slaughter their companion in cold blood.

Viper Witcher Mentor

Viper mentors are especially cold and ruthless in order to prepare their students for the harsh life that awaits them.

Some Lore from Gwent

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Or weaker. It depends, really.

It is often said that witchers took on the characteristics of their schools' namesake creatures. Without a doubt, this was true of the Viper School. They were agile, quick, and frequently made use of deadly poisons.

As with the other witcher schools – the Wolves' Kaer Morhen as sole exception – none were aware of the Viper School's location. Only one detail ever became widely known... That it stood somewhere south of the Yaruga. In Nilfgaard.

Perhaps it's no wonder then that Vipers were less inclined to neutrality than other witchers. The Empire would never recognize such a stance. There is only obedient servant... Or mortal enemy.

Emperor Emhyr var Emreis gave them a choice they could not refuse: assassinate a few kings in the Northern Realms in exchange for rebuilding the school to its former glory.

The emperor, however, did not keep his promise and instead of rebuilding the school, he sent bounty hunters after its few remaining members to remove any loose ends.

Armor and Equipment

Viper Witchers are trained to fight with twin blades, often referred to as “fangs”. This style focuses on fast and furious strikes aimed to overwhelm their target, be it monster or man.

These blades would often be coated with poison as the school made great use of its knowledge of alchemy.

No need to strike deep when but a scratch will prove fatal.

Five More Witchers

Letho of Gulet

Witchers never die in their beds. - Letho

Some friends you see after many years apart and you immediately develop a headache. Not out of antipathy, but as a somatic premonition of the hangover sure to follow your drunken reunion. Seeing others, however, gives you an itching pain in your back and a desire to reach for your blade. For Geralt, Letho of Gulet had a foot in both of these camps.

Letho, if Geralt doesn’t ask him to go to Kaer Morhen, says, that he will be heading to Zerrikania citing a possible reason that it's a matriarchy and he's always had a deep belief "that it's women who should rule the world."

Serrit and Auckles

He seems different, but in reality is so similar. Our paths have been the same: we survived the Trials, endured the same training and have slain so many monsters that we no longer keep count. So many men, also. The difference is in the details – when I see him moving in combat, I want to laugh, but I also see that he is just as effective, if not more so. There is, however, one critical difference I cannot describe adequately. He has a goal, he is committed to something. He doesn't wander the world as if blown about by the wind. I believe he feels emotions at a level I cannot attain, yet these emotions are not typically human. Is it an illness of some kind? I think he teeters on the brink of instinct and emotion, and that he uses up a lot of energy to maintain his mental health. I hope I get a chance to know him better and learn from him. Nothing specific – just life. - Serrit about Geralt

Serrit was a lot more hot-headed than his brother, complaining about the lack of action they had in the past days.

Letho's got a plan… what could go wrong? - Auckles

Auckes seemed to be the less serious of the brothers, being sarcastic at times while being very confident of his skills.

He appeared to regard Geralt as a friend, which is reflected when he asked if Geralt wasn't hanged for Foltest murder and Letho asked him if he wanted to see him hanged, he lowered his head and just answered "no".

Along with his brother, Auckes was fond of using bear traps.

Kolgrim

Fate seemed to take pleasure in torturing Kolgrim. Fortune only smiled upon him if it was accompanied by a stroke of very bad luck. It was always thus, even before Kolgrim became a witcher. When he was still a young harmless brat...

On the eve of Saovine small Kolgrim was kidnapped by a weeper, which replaced him with its own cursed offspring. Fortunately, the monster was slaughtered by a witcher that very same night. The boy's savior, having taken pity on him, decided to escort him back home. Kolgrim was relieved to be returning to the warmth and safety of his mother, unaware of his impending misfortune.

The woman greeted the witcher with hatred in her eyes, not believing a single word that came out of his mouth. Blinded by her contempt, she refused to even look twice at her own crying son, utterly convinced that the weeper's baby was her real child. With the door slammed shut in their face, the witcher had no other choice than to take Kolgrim with him – straight to the Viper School.

Over many future years, fate mocked Kolgrim many times – both during his murderous training and the later travels around the Continent. His life ended most ironically. For he, who was once stolen and then rejected from his mother, was accused of kidnapping a child.

Warritt The All-Seeing

By slightly modifying the Supirre sign, Warritt gained the ability to see... everything.

Supirre is a Sign enhancing the auditory perception of the user. Drawn on a solid surface, it allows the people near the Sign to hear sounds which would be normally inaudible due to the distance or background noise. As such, it is often used for eavesdropping.

It compensated the monster hunter's lack of sight by giving him the ability of echolocation.

#the witcher #witcher #school of the viper #viper school #viper witcher #viper witchers #witcher school #witcher schools #witcher reference #gwent: the witcher card game #Letho #letho of gulet #Warritt The All-Seeing #Serritt #auckles #kolgrim #ivar evil-eye #Gorthur Gvaed

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acourtofsnakes · 3 years

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Tor - Rogue, Chapter 3| The Mandalorian x Force Sensitive! Reader (f)

Summary: A little bit of Mando pov for you all!! It’s a shorter chapter, just kind of the same as the previous but from our Space Dad’s point of view this time. Though there may be a little hint of your decision at the end…

Warnings: Injury detail/blood, swearing, angst? Hints of fluff?

AN: There’s a very small ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ reference to a certain Dornish prince and his nickname in here too. Wonder if you’ll find it? 👀

Also, thank you to @ithinkwehitametaphor for sending me the gif! i couldn’t for the life of me find it and you honestly saved my life

Wordcount: About 3465

Rogue Taglist: @snipskixandbeskar @weirdowithnobeardo

Mando’a Translation: Tor – justice

He always thought it would end like this. Never in some big blaze of blaster fire or with his ship, but in some back alley, bleeding out, alone.

Hell, maybe he deserved it. He’d killed enough people to warrant this end, slumped on the floor, too weak to save himself.

He didn’t deserve a warrior’s death, a Mandalorian’s death. Not after all he had done.

Of course, it was his duty, his honour as a Mandalorian and a bounty hunter but… that sacred Creed did nothing to stop the thoughts that plagued him at night, the whispers that hissed in his ear during his waking hours.

He almost laughed at himself.

The Creed was all he had.

Until…. Until the kid had come along.

Until he saw that little wrinkly baby in the crib and… it had all changed.

He couldn’t kill it, him, couldn’t take it back to the Client or his Clones.

One look at that damn little silver ball, and eveyrhting went straight out the window.

Fuck the Guild code. He would never kill a child, an innocent being that couldn’t even talk, could only make those little cooing sounds that even he had to admit were adorable.

Rescuing him… it had given him something to live for. Something to fill his days and a reason not to go hurtling helmet first into danger with no regard for his own safety.

Except… well, no. That wasn’t strictly true was it. He’d become more reckless since that moment, the rules that his bound his life for so long were slowly coming undone bit by bit. All of which made him so reckless, so… desperate?

You only had to look at the sheer amount of people lining up for his and the kid’s head to prove that.

So maybe he didn’t always make the smartest decisions, but they were still alive, weren’t they? Had friends to help them if he needed it.

In a short time, he’d gone from being Judge, Jury and Executioner, to being the person that people called when they needed help. Sometimes people didn’t even call him. He just showed up and offered his services.

And truth be told… he liked it. He liked people looking at him with hope and admiration, rather than fear and jealousy. He liked the way people fussed over the kid, asking if Mando was taking good care of the child. Like they were a family.

A Clan.

The sigil on his armour said as much. Him and the kid. A unit of two rogues.

That’s what it all came down to, in the end. Everything was to keep Grogu safe. That’s why he stuck to the Outer Rim, taking jobs that would draw him further away from those that relentlessly hunting them, those who wanted to harm the Child. Besides, he needed the credits that came with the big jobs. Taking care of the little womp rat was expensive. Not to mention there was always something falling apart on his ship.

So, when that guy in the hood had cornered him in the bar, given him the fob and told him about the bounty that no one could catch, he’d taken it without a thought. He’d had so many over the years that were supposedly uncatchable that the word had nearly lost its meaning. And this stranger had obviously sensed that, explained that it was true. Reeled off the sheer amount of hunters that had been sent that way, Imps, Trandoshans, Empire workers, IG-11 robots, even another Mandalorian. After hearing that list, Mando had expected some high-level bounty. An escapee from the deepest pits of the darkest prisons, someone who had done terrible, terrible things.

So… when he’d activated the puck, and the hologram of a woman’s face had come up… he was shocked. This woman… she was beautiful. Still young. She didn’t look like she bathed in the blood of her enemies, or killed children and babies, she looked… well, not exactly harmless. There was a glint in her eyes even on the hologram, a spark that warned of danger, promised pain to anyone that tried to hurt her.

A survivor’s look.

Something niggled at him, a feeling he couldn’t quite place. It might have been hesitation, but he ignored it. The bounty over her head was enough that he could take Grogu to one of those sanctuary planets and lay low for a few weeks. Maybe even a few months. The kid deserved it, to be able to play and explore.

And himself… Maker, he was just so tired.

So, he’d pocketed the puck and the fob, didn’t ask who the client was, went back to the Crest and then he was on his way to Sorgan.

Maybe it would take him a little longer than usual to bring the girl in, but it was nothing that he hadn’t done before. After all, stealing back the kid, breaking into a prison, everything else that had occurred recently… this was a walk in the park.

He still believed that, right up to tracking you. Even when he chased you.

He had to admit, he did love it when they ran, even if his back was killing him.

Something about the chase, the frantic fear of the prey as he hunted them down, the conclusion inevitable. It thrilled him.

But… this felt.. different.

You were different. You fought like it was a dance, whirling across the clearing and around his punches like there was a song only you could hear. And you were taunting him, laughing as you did. You lived for this, like you had been bred for it. No… you’d been shaped by it, shaped by the choice of cowering or turning into a wolf. A wolf, like those he’d seen in Lothal.

You were strong, you fought well, he had to give you that much. He knew he would have to work for it, but with the promise of safety lingering, he matched you move for move, determined to hold this out as long as it took.

He’d read your file, read what had happened and used that to his advantage. The words had come easily, even though they had stirred something inside him, perhaps a mirror of the feelings he was encouraging in you.

But then… then you just gave in. Straight away. And not like the others did. Not in the way that they had, thinking it would make him go easier, change his mind.

No, you had completely, utterly given up. He saw it in your eyes. Saw that survivors glint gutter out, a wolf tamed back into her cage with her tail between her legs.

And… it threw him. He had touched something, caught something deep within you as he taunted you. Something broken… that again whispered to his own deepest thoughts. Like calling to like.

He’d ignored it, pushing that thought back into the part of his minds where his darker thoughts lay slumbering – for now. He’d carried you back to the Crest, shackled you to the wall and had made to leave you there.

Only, he had seen that the wound on your shoulder was torn open again, ripped by your fight and his jamming with the rifle. It was bleeding through your tunic, and even with unconsciousness heavy in your body, you still looked somewhat pained.

He’d hovered there, staring at the bleeding wound and having some kind of internal battle.

It wasn’t fatal. It was just a recent injury that had torn open. You’d be fine. He nodded, turning around and making all of one step.

But. A Trandoshan had been the last person to hunt you. They relished in the hunt, had probably fought dirty and used a poison. It might be infected. What if you died on his way back to dropping you off? Or got really, really sick?

Nevermind. The messenger for the Client stated you had to be brought back alive. Alive didn’t mean whole. He carried on walking, trying to focus again on something else… only to pause a couple of metres away.

Help her.

The Mandalorian had turned back around to look at you, a frustrated grunt slipping from his lips. He moved through the ship, grabbing a med-kit and then practically stormed back to you, nearly ripping your tunic as he’d eased up the sleeve.

It wasn’t too bad, a deep wound but it hadn’t been infected, yet. He cleaned it up, spraying it with the last of his bacta-spray and binding it with the last strip of bandages. He’d have to get some more soon, dig up some credits from somewhere.

A cruel reminder of why he took this job. What you were. A bounty. That’s all.

Muttering a string of curses, he finished binding your wound, wrenching his hands away and then made his way back upstairs.

A bounty. A means to an end. The way to getting a break that his aching body craved for.

He was hunter. You were prey.

That was the mantra he had to keep repeating to himself when he’d brought you up to the cockpit.

Had to keep repeating when you were teasing him, which simultaneously ground on his nerves but also made his skin tighten in a way it hadn’t for a while.

It had been a long time, so long since he’d that kind of verbal play with someone.

Hell, it had been a long time since he’d had any kind of play with anyone. He just didn’t have the time anymore, not with Grogu and not when everyone knew who he was. How could you trust someone enough to sleep with them when nearly everyone wanted to kill you?

His new mantra had echoed in his head when you began to verbally poke at him, hitting home about being lonely. He wouldn’t have been surprised if you knew you’d hit a nerve. But thankfully you stopped.

But not before that broken thing had called between you again. Your words were spoken with too much ease and casualness, someone who knew all too well the loneliness and starvation for touch and companionship.

Maker, he had to get rid of you soon.

It had almost been a relief to find the small bounty on this planet. You’d been asleep, the kid asleep too so he’d gone. He didn’t need to wake either of you up, you knew why you were here - he’d told you so this morning.

Besides, it was a small planet, easy prey to catch when everyone here feared the dark. He’d be back in a few hours.

With the way he was so wired, he’d probably be back in two.

That’s the way it was meant to happen.

Track down the bounty, disarm, bring him back, freeze him in carbonite and Mando would have you back in the sky before you’d even woken up.

And it had happened that way initially. He followed the sharp tailed bounty from the fighting pits to a cantina. Had to sit and listen as he boasted about some girl he’d bedded the night before and had screaming his name. He then, of course, launched into detail of said night, drawling about this girl in such a derogatory way that it took all his training and restraint not to just shoot this creep in the head there and then and be done with it.

But, the Mandalorian had endured it. Sat there for an hour or so and then followed him out into an alleyway. Mando kept hidden as the bounty had spoken to a friend, talking about another girl he’d seen. Apparently, this one was even better than last night. He had it on good authority that this girl would be game for anything he wanted to do and more.

And then Spikey had started describing again, in detail, what he would do. And Mando had been disgusted, angry that this creep was talking about a woman this way, such sick and derogatory things. Spikey’s friend asked if this ‘slut’ had a name.

And then…

Your name. That’s what he said.

And that’s when it went wrong.

Your name had barely come out of this animal’s lips when a red haze clouded over the Mandalorian. Everything in him screamed violence and his body went on autopilot, attacking this vile waste of space matter so quickly he hadn’t had time to breathe. Mando didn’t even notice the friend bolt, running away. He was just so focused on taking down the bounty, ripping him apart for what he’d said about you. This one would be brought in cold. He would say that it put up a fight, tried to kill him so Mando acted in self-defence.

His previous mantra of the last two days was forgotten, overtaken by a need to defend you, make sure this guy stayed the hell away from you. Bring him down, freeze him in carbonite and get off of this planet. He fell back into that haze, relying on his skills and instincts.

Except… except that when the haze cleared, he wasn’t leaning over the body.

No, he was the one being pinned against the wall by the bounty, with a strength he hadn’t realised Spikey possessed. What the fuck was he?

Escape training came to him now, but before he could disarm and kill, the bounty began to spew those vile thoughts about you again. About how Mando was keeping you tied to a bed, for his own pleasure. How he was going to take you, ask to keep you, use you-

And then for the first time in his life, Mando forgot his training. He forgot about blocking and defensive maneuverers. He forgot about the myriad of weapons on his body, the Whistling Birds, the flame-thrower.

He reached out in a blind fury to throttle this creep.

He left himself open to attack.

That was the first time he royally fucked up tonight.

Pain had suddenly become a living thing in his side and waist as he slid down the wall, and then his only thought wasn’t of survival, it was of the kid, and you.

You were back in the ship, both of you safe at least. Maybe you would know how to fly, know how to get yourselves out of there and run, escape. That’s what he’d hoped. You were smart, you were a survivor. You’d take the initiative and get yourselves out. Besides, he might not have admitted it, but he trusted you with Grogu.

And then like he’d fucking summoned you… there you were. Launching into Spikey Tail’s side and getting him away. He could only watch as you engaged him in the fight, taunted him with that same tone you’d used on him. Only this time, he could watch you.

Beautiful.

There was no other word for it, as much as he might not have wanted to admit it. You fought like it was a dance, that prowling wolf in you giving way to a viper, striking and falling back with all the grace of dancers he’d heard about performing in Coruscant.

He was almost breathless as he watched this deadly game – though that might have been the blood loss and blow to his head.

He thought he might be sick when the sound of your ribs shattering bounced off the slick metal walls, the muffled cry of agony it tore from you.

But still, the taunts kept coming, and he couldn’t help himself when you complained that Spikey Tail talked too much. You had possibly two broken ribs and yet you were still a cocky little shit. The impressed, huffing laugh that came from his lips was loud enough to be heard by you.

And that was his second fuck up of the night.

What started as an unexpected burst of warmth in his chest as you turned and smiled at him, had immediately frozen his lungs as Spikey slammed you against the wall, strangling you.

Fear shot through Mando, colder than his body had begun to feel. He tried to get up, tried to help you but he couldn’t move. His limbs wouldn’t respond to him.

He couldn’t save you.

He was going to watch you die defending him.

Just like his parents.

No, no, no. He couldn’t. He couldn’t do that, not again. He swore against his body, gathered every remaining ounce of strength that he had and reached for his blaster, just as those sick comments of degradation and ugly lust began to fall from your attacker’s lips.

All he needed was to give you an opening, just one tiny opening and you would do the rest.

Spikey’s lips were creeping toward yours, fear bursting in your eyes as you scrambled for the vibroblade sheathed against your thigh.

An opening, that’s all he had to do.

And he did. He managed to haul his body back from the edge of death long enough to shoot the guy in the back.

You took your opening.

He saw the flash of your vibroblade, heard the muffled, wet noise as it sunk into his bounty’s neck.

The guy fell to the floor in a dead weight. You dropped too and he managed to see you gasp for air, assure himself you were mostly okay before that flame of energy guttered out so quickly, he saw stars.

Darkness hovered around the edges of his vision as he felt his life slip through his fingers – literally, his other hand was pressed to his side in an effort to try and staunch it but he didn’t have the energy to.

This was it then.

The way he would go.

Nothing noble, or heroic.

Bleeding out in a back alley. The creatures in the dark would take him soon enough.

At least you would be able to take the kid and run now. At least there was that.

And then he felt hands knocking his way, significantly smaller hands push into the wound. He couldn’t even make a noise of pain; it didn’t hurt anymore. His vision cleared again and there you were once more, leaning over him with blood sprayed over your face, falling from a cut on your cheek.

No. No.

What were you doing??

You were supposed to escape. You were supposed to flee the mess he’d bought you into and take the kid and run.

He tried to speak, to convey these thoughts to you but his lips had stopped responding. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth. But somehow, it was like you got what he meant.

Your hands began to lift, and he had a weak wave of relief that was marred by the fresh soaking of blood that oozed out of his side. How much had he lost now?

Too much, by the cooling temperature of his body and the trembling that had begun.

He had come close to death before, so many times before but this felt different. This felt like he was losing something. Something that was just within reach but he hadn’t had the chance to grasp at yet. And it was being wrenched away, taken from him and trickling over the stones beneath him in a deep, scarlet puddle.

Maybe he’d begun to hallucinate too, because you were back, leaning over him, hands pressed into him again like they could stop the blood. He lifted his eyes and something in him curled up and panged when he saw that you were already gazing at him.

Gazing right into his eyes.

How you knew where they were, how you looked through the blackened visor without seeing, he didn’t know. But he could read the war raging inside of you, the battle off stay or go.

Go.

Mando tried to talk again, but only managed a faint noise, a croak that sounded so pitiful, he might have cringed at himself had he not started to hear a ringing in his ears. Time was nearly up, ticking away his life and that glimmer of something.

So, he instead just looked at you. You were clearly not made up yet, so he did something selfish.

He put his life in your hands.

If you left him here to die, he deserved it. It was justice. Justice for every ounce of pain he’d caused. The grief he’d doled out to mothers and fathers, sisters and brothers, children.

Justice for the life of treachery he had all but dumped Grogu into.

Justice for letting his parents die for him and not save them.

But, if you let him live…

Then he would try harder. He would repent for his mistakes.

He would make sure you were dropped somewhere safely. You couldn’t stay with him, he wrought death and destruction to those around him whether he meant it or not

But he could take you somewhere safe, maybe to Greef and Cara.

Then he would hunt down whoever came after you next, giving you the respite that he was going to keep for himself.

They were the options.

A deserved death, or a new determination to set right his mistakes.

These thoughts swum through his hazy brain at a surprisingly rapid pace, only a few seconds worth of time as he still watched what you would do with this choice. He could see that you understood, understood the choice he had selfishly bestowed upon you.

Only it was too late.

Heavy darkness thundered over him in an unrelenting tidal wave and with a choked gasp, he was dragged under, so deep he might have imagined your arms winding around his battered body, hauling him to his feet as much as you could.

His brain giving him one last reprieve, perhaps, or maybe a cruel taunt to what might have been before he was sucked under and everything went numb.

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#the mandalorian x force sensitive! reader #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin x force sensitive! reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the force #star wars #the mandalorian #rogue #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal

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honey-dewey · 3 years

Text

Soulmate Imagines

Another short not drabbles but not full stories either! I was completely inspired by a post made by @absurdthirst and really really wanted to write the boys in these scenarios! So I completely ignored both of my active WIPS and wrote this instead. Oops? Enjoy these long and indulgent soulmate imagines!

Total Word Count: 5,179

Permanent Taglist: @phoenixhalliwell @star-wars-hell

Din Djarin:

Soul Tattoo AU

“Shit!”

You hummed, turning your head over, vision fuzzy. Din was rushing around the Crest, and you could see red painting his beskar. Was he hurt? You tried to stand, and then it hit you. Oh. You were hurt.

“Din,” you rasped out, blinking as his fuzzy image came into more clarity.

Din looked at you, helmet trained on your face. “Cyar’ika,” he said, taking your cold hands. “How do you feel?”

“Like I got run over by a herd of Banthas,” you said, shifting and wincing. “What happened?”

“Bomb,” Din explained, gesturing to your torso, where you were wearing a thin robe and nothing else. “Hit your side. Patched you up best I could.”

You nodded, swallowing thickly. “Did it scar?”

Din hesitated. “Some of it will. Nothing on your back though.”

Relief flooded you. You had no idea why you were so worried about your soul tattoo, but you were. The beautiful star map to Aq Ventina spanned your entire back, from shoulders to tailbone, the sides creeping over your waist. You’d done research about Aq Ventina years ago, when the curiosity had finally peaked. You’d read up on the history and knew that it no longer existed, decimated by a droid attack decades before you’d even known it existed.

“It’s a beautiful tattoo,” Din said softly, out of nowhere.

“Thank you,” you said, looking at his helmet. “It’s my soul tattoo.”

Din nodded. “I figured.”

And that was the last it was spoken of for almost five months. The next time it was relevant was during a two day long bounty hunt, when Din left to shower and you sat in your shared inn room, cooing at Grogu.

The shower water turned off, and you heard Din drying off. Then he called your name.

“Yeah?”

“Come here.”

Worried, you stood and headed to the bathroom. “Din?”

“Come here.” His voice bordered on urgent, and you immediately shoved the door open.

You were met with Din, completely shirtless yet still wearing the helmet, in the bathroom, no urgent problem in sight. However, instead of being mad, you were focused entirely on the tattoo that spread across Din’s back.

It was identical to yours.

“Din?” Your voice was tiny, so apprehensive.

He sighed, looking at you and taking your hands. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything earlier,” he said. “But Aq Ventina was my home, so you have to understand that it was odd and a bit painful seeing the star map on your back.”

You nodded. “We’re soulmates,” you breathed. “I didn’t even know you had a soul tattoo.”

Din chuckled. “It’s not like I expose much skin,” he reasoned.

That drew a laugh out of you. “Yeah. But still.” Your fingers danced over the exposed edge of the star map that crept over Din’s side. “Soulmates.”

Din nodded, resting his forehead against your head. “Soulmates,” he agreed. “But only if you’ll have me.”

You smiled. “As if I could ever say no.”

Marcus Moreno:

Color Soulmate AU

To say you were stressed was an understatement. A huge project for Heroics was cradled in your arms, all sorts of papers and binders and information you were carrying to the filing room to be sorted. The stack was tall, which was probably why you didn’t see your boss until you ran directly into him.

“Fuck!” You shouted as you fell on your back, folders going everywhere. Marcus Moreno, your boss, was toppled next to you, also swearing.

“I am so sorry!” You said hurriedly, scrambling to gather the papers, eyes focused on your task. “I really should’ve looked where I was going and-“ you looked up, shock killing your words.

Marcus’s eyes were brown. Very very brown.

You gasped, your task entirely forgotten. “Oh.”

Marcus was staring at you with just as much shock as you were staring at him with. “Oh,” he echoed.

Your fragile moment was shattered by the click of heels and another employee coming over to check on you, her voice frantic.

“We’re fine,” Marcus reassured, standing and dusting himself off. Without saying anything else, he walked quickly away.

Once all the files were secure, you headed back to your desk and pulled out a small box of crayons. You’d never seen color, not ever, so this would be interesting. At least it would be if your hands would stop shaking.

One of your coworkers, Matt, came up to you as you used a teal crayon, marveling at the color. “Oh? You met your soulmate?”

You nodded, looking up and noticing the vibrant purple color to Matt’s tie. “Yeah. Bumped into him in the hall. Literally.”

Matt grinned. “Who is it?”

You cringed, the embarrassment setting in. “Mr. Moreno.”

“Mr. Moreno?” Matt practically yelled. “He’s our boss!”

“Yeah, I know!” You retaliated, checking your clock and scrambling up. “Fuck! I gotta go, that huge meeting is in ten.”

Matt smiled. “Good luck!”

Despite Matt’s wishes, you were fairly certain the presentation was a disaster. Marcus was missing, which was odd, and you ended up tripping over your words and getting a huge migraine halfway through the presentation. After sheepishly explaining the scenario, you were told to go home and adjust, you could redo the presentation tomorrow.

Of course, tomorrow was just as bad. Marcus was actually present, wearing a yellow tie that kept distracting you and forcing your words out in a jumble.

After the train wreck of a presentation, you decided this was a situation that called for a large hot chocolate. Getting one and settling in the cafeteria, you sighed, swirling your drink with a spoon. You were a certifiable mess.

The creaking of the chair brought your attention back to planet earth, and you looked up, nearly choking on your spit. “Mr. Moreno!”

“Please, I think we should be on a first name basis,” Marcus said. “So.”

“So.”

Marcus tapped the table. “I’m sorry I ran off yesterday. I just, well, I haven’t seen color since my- Since Clara died.”

You nodded. “I understand if you don’t want this,” you murmured, looking back down at your drink. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” Marcus asked. “No! I’m, well, a little excited.”

That shocked you. “Excited?”

“Yeah.” Marcus nodded. “Excited. Missy’s over the moon, of course.”

You grinned. “Thanks. Sorry I’m so nervous. I’ve never seen any of this before.”

“Really?” Marcus said. “Oh I definitely know what we’re doing first.”

“What?”

Marcus smiled, taking your hands. “You’re going to love sunsets.”

Max Phillips:

Black Mark Soulmate AU

“Oh no.”

You stared at your boss with nothing short of mild fear. Max fucking Phillips. There was no goddamn way. You’d known him very briefly in college, but this, this was unexpected.

He smiled at the employees, shaking hands as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

As if his right palm wasn’t the color of fresh stained ink.

He walked up to you, holding out his ink stained hand. You were hesitant to accept. After all, your right hand was equally black. But handshakes were common, very common among soulmate meets. Max Phillips was not your soulmate.

You were able to tell yourself that until the moment your hands touched, the blackness turning into a beautiful swirl of bright colors.

Max’s eyes widened as he looked at you. “Your hand.”

“Yours too,” you said, letting go of Max’s hand and letting him examine the watercolor of reds and purples that spread across his skin.

Max took a nervous breath. “No. Something must be wrong.”

You were shocked. “Max. Is it really that bad?”

“You don’t understand!” Max snapped, scaring you a tiny bit. He leaned closer, so you could see the devilish gleam in his eyes. “I have no soul.”

Your blood chilled as you saw the overly sharp teeth and the hint of red behind the deep brown in Max’s eyes. “Max.”

But he was gone, disappeared from right in front of you. Blinking a few times, you turned to your computer, determined to uncover the truth about your mysterious boss and the still tingling rainbow of colors on your palm.

Frankie ‘Catfish’ Morales:

Countdown Soulmate AU

The countdown timer was surprisingly unnerving.

Actually, was it really that surprising? It was counting down to the most important day pretty much ever. Yours had always had years and years, much longer than any of your friends, but you didn’t mind. That was just more time to prepare.

Of course, when you woke up one day to find that the timer that had read seven months suddenly read twelve hours, you freaked the hell out. Taking deep breaths, you calmed yourself and got dressed, texting your best friend and asking him when he wanted you over for movie night. He responded with eight, and promised that you’d love his friends.

With one last deep breath and a glance around your apartment, you left for the day.

And ended up with a popped tire on the side of the road ten minutes before eight.

Screaming your frustration into the night darkened woods and frightening some poor birds, you sighed and called roadside service. An hour, at least, before they could get to you.

Your next call went to Benny, who you apologized to and told him you’d make it up to him.

Your final call was to no one. You simply sat back in your car and waited for roadside service while you tapped away at some mind numbing game you’d downloaded on a whim.

Headlights were visible in the distance not even ten minutes later, which shocked you and then worried you. Who the hell was out on this road this late at night? Were you about to be murdered? Who would find your body? Would Benny still hold true to his promise and wear a lime green tutu to your funeral?

The car stopped when it saw you, and your anxiety skyrocketed. You quickly texted Benny one last time and locked your car.

“Hey!” A few sharp knocks and a face in the window. “Do you need help?”

You were trembling, trying to keep a brave face. “Tire popped.”

“Oh.” The voice sounded genuinely worried. “That sucks. Where are you headed?”

“A friend’s house.”

“Did you call roadside?”

“An hour.”

“Oof. Hungry?”

“What?” You looked over, seeing the dimly lit silhouette of a man holding up what was probably a granola bar. “Yeah actually, I am.”

The man’s cheeks lit up, and you assumed he was smiling. “Well you’re gonna have to open up if you want it.”

You hesitantly cracked the door and watched the man step back. The car lights illuminated him fully, revealing a very attractive man holding a slightly squished granola bar.

Turning in the seat so that your legs were hanging out the car, you took the offered food, smiling as you ate. “Lord this is good! Thank you!”

The man shrugged. “No problem. I’m Frankie.”

You mumbled your name around the granola bar, and then froze as your wrist burned warm and then cold, a clattering alerting you to the fact that your timer had fallen off.

And from the look on Frankie’s face, so had his.

He looked back up at you, seemingly nervous. “So can I get in the car now? I promise I’m not a creep.”

You nodded, still slightly shocked as Frankie got into your car, sitting in the passenger seat. It was silent for a minute before you spoke. “So. Soulmates.”

“Soulmates,” Frankie agreed. “I’m glad I shared that granola bar with you.”

Your phone pinged, and you swore softly, answering Benny’s text and then rereading it. “Do you, by any chance, know a Benny Miller?”

“Yeah,” Frankie said. “I was headed to his place when I saw you.”

“Me too.” You showed him the text, which read ‘Dude! Be careful! My buddy Frankie’s coming along, so if you get attacked, he’ll totally protect you. Also, totally not wearing that tutu because you’re not dying first.’

Frankie smiled. “You’re in on the tutu thing too?”

You laughed. “Oh god! Not you too!”

“Yeah!” Frankie said, laughing along with you. “Benny totally already has it, y’know.”

You sighed. “Damn. That’s wild.”

The hour until roadside service arrived was filled with stories and bonding. After your car was towed, you got in Frankie’s truck and headed to Benny’s, arm in arm.

“Hey, Frankie found the murder victim!” Benny said happily, opening the door. “Oh shit, dudes I was starting to get worried about you.”

Frankie shook his head. “Actually, it couldn’t have played out better.”

Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels:

First Words Soulmate AU

You sighed, taking a breath. Today you were meeting your baby brother’s coworkers at a work party. It wasn’t supposed to be so damn nerve wracking, but your stomach was a ball of anxiety. “Danny, are you sure about this?”

Danny, or as he was better known at work, Tequila, nodded. “Hell yeah, it’ll be fun.”

You tugged your bracelet, trying to cover the words winding across your wrist.

What’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?

The Statesman Fourth of July party was apparently a big deal. There were sure as hell a lot of people. You stuck by Danny’s side, smiling at his coworkers and eventually sitting with a woman named Ginger. She was nice, and when Danny wandered off to flirt with someone, she stayed with you, giving you names to attach to faces.

“Oh, and that’s Jack,” she said, pointing to someone talking to Champ. “One of the longest lasting agents we have.”

You eyed Jack. He was handsome, especially with that cowboy hat. He must’ve noticed your staring, because he wandered over and sat down at the table.

“So, what’s a pretty little thing like you doing in a place like this?”

You took a breath, gripping the hem of your shorts and trying to think without looking awkward. A thousand responses rushed through your head, and you finally picked one you hoped wasn’t weird. “I dunno cowboy, why do you ask?”

Jack recoiled as if he’d just had ice water poured on his head. Ginger stood, shocked as Jack ran away. “What just happened?”

You were nearly speechless, tears starting to well up. “I think my soulmate just ran away from me.”

After a good long crying session in which you sobbed openly into Danny’s jacket and he vowed to absolutely murder Jack, Ginger gently explained Jack’s past with his previous soulmate. Which sent you into another round of crying and made Danny even more pissed.

He ended up taking you home early to watch shitty movies and eat tons of ice cream, comforting you as you numbly ate half a pint of Ben and Jerry’s on the couch.

When he left for work the next day, you made him swear not to hurt Jack.

You got a call from Ginger two hours later telling you to come pick Danny up.

Marching into Statesman again, you found Ginger at the entrance, lips pressed tight. She led you to the infirmary, where Danny was proudly sporting a black eye and a split lip. Jack was laying in a bed next to him, pressing ice to his cheek.

“Control your fucking brother!” He yelled as soon as he saw you, sitting up in the bed. “He nearly killed me!”

“Oh shut the fuck up!” You snapped back. “You best be glad I’m not petty, or else I’d have let him kill you.”

Jack was, wisely, silent as you helped Danny up and out of the building. Danny was also silent, but was definitely smug about it.

“Y’know I totally won that fight,” he said as you exited the building.

You sighed. “Sure. Whatever. Let’s go home.”

The next day, you got a call from an unknown number.

“This is Jack,” the voice on the other end said when you picked up. “I’m calling to apologize for beating your brother up.”

“Apparently he won the fight.”

Jack snorted. “Sure he did. Look, I’m sorry.”

“Apology accepted.”

A pause. “Cool. See you around.”

“Yeah. See you.”

He hung up first, leaving you with a dead hole in your chest. When you would see that cowboy again, you didn’t know, but when you did, oh boy was he in for it from you.

Ezra:

Pain Sharing Soulmate AU

You were screaming.

Well, screaming may not have been the word to describe the feeling. No, the agony in your right arm was numbing pain, the kind of pain that brought out animalistic noises and made spots dance across your vision. You writhed on the floor, clutching your upper arm and begging someone, anyone, to make the pain stop. A few nurses you worked with tried to dose you with painkillers, but nothing could touch soulmate pain.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, the pain began to fade. You’d had some aches in that arm after a stab that was really painful and you’d assumed some kind of injury that your soulmate had sustained was being treated. But that, that harsh, indescribable pain that had you sweating and panting on the floor with your head spinning, you had no explanation for that.

After that, the nurses set you up in the break room with fluids and a light snack. Your right arm still hurt like hell, but it was manageable now. As time passed, the pain passed, until it was no more than a dull ache once more, with some odd numbness that lingered in your fingertips.

Of course, on the day you decided to try working for a few hours, your soulmate went and got himself fatally injured again.

Gasping and falling sideways, you gritted your teeth through a scream as your gut lit on fire, as if someone had driven a knife into your belly. It was the second time in three days that your soulmate had put you through this. What the hell was he doing?

Yet again, you were put in a room to wait out the pain, probably scaring patients with your sobs and pleads for any merciful god to put you out of your misery. This pain refused to fade, and you completely missed the wail of emergency sirens as a new patient in critical condition arrived.

Eventually, finally, the pain forced you unconscious.

You woke a few days later, breathing deeply as you realized you weren’t in any pain. The faint voice of a doctor met your ears as you slowly regained your senses.

“We’re all shocked they survived. With pain like that, I surely wouldn’t have been as strong as they were. First it was their arm, and then their stomach. We still don’t really know what happened.”

The doctor turned to you, and smiled when he noticed your open eyes. “Finally, you’re awake. We have someone who wants to talk to you.”

You grumbled, trying to string together the past few days. “What?”

The doctor gestured to a man sitting in the other bed in the room. “This is Ezra, our critical patient from a few days ago.”

“I was too busy being stabbed in the stomach to notice any crit patients,” you pointed out.

“Yes, well,” the doctor said with a smile. “He may have some answers for you.”

You sat up, rubbing your aching head and facing the other man in the room.

He looked like hell, face sunken and shining with post injury sweat. You reasoned that you probably didn’t look much better. But the interesting thing about the man was his bandage wrapped right arm. Or more accurately, his lack of an arm that was wrapped in bandages.

“Hi Ezra,” you said slowly, rubbing your temples. “Is this my headache or yours?”

Ezra chuckled. “I think it’s yours,” he said. “I can’t feel any of my own pain right now.”

You sighed. “Doc, can I get some painkillers? I got a headache.”

The doctor nodded, grabbing a few pills, but you shook your head. “The good shit, please.”

Smiling, the doctor picked up a syringe and lifted your left arm, considering your right still felt a bit numb. “Countdown?”

“Nah.”

The doctor gave you the painkillers, and you watched Ezra wince at the pinch from the needle as it hit your skin. Laying back as the painkillers took effect, you sighed, looking at Ezra. “I’d love to stay and chat,” you murmured sleepily. “But this stuff works fast.”

Ezra smiled. “Don’t worry songbird,” he said. “I’ll be here when you wake.”

Javier Peña:

Soulmate’s Name on Wrist AU

“Get up! New client!”

You groaned, adjusting your top and trotting into the hall, standing with the group of women waving and giggling at the new client. He looked up at your group, a light grin on his face.

“He’s cute,” you said to the woman next to you.

She nodded. “He’s a regular at places like this,” she said. “Says his name’s Javier.”

You froze, the small name tattooed on the inside of your wrist practically burning. “Javier? He got a last name?”

“Not that he’ll share.”

In the end, you were Javier’s lucky victim, mostly because when he asked your name and you responded, his watch-covered wrist twitched. So he was your soulmate. Or at least you were his. He showed you bliss, paid you handsomely, and left without a word but with a spark.

Two weeks later, you ran into him again. You’d been in touch with a man at the US embassy about cartel stuff, mostly that the cartels had been reaching out to people like you and you wanted to stay safe, and the man had invited you to come over and give a statement. You were hesitant, of course, but the man looked kind enough, and the other employees knew him well enough that you felt secure.

“This is my partner, agent Peña,” the man said as he gestured you into a room. “But,” he said slowly, eyeing the bare name on your wrist. “I think you knew that already.”

“I did.”

Javier took a breath. “Can we get this done with?” He said, trying to sound annoyed but only succeeding at stressed.

Your statement was quiet and precise, and before you knew it, Javier was walking you out.

“Javier,” you tried.

“Don’t,” Javier growled. “Just go, forget you ever met me.”

“I can’t!” You all but yelled, grabbing his wrist so he couldn’t walk off. “I’ve been wearing your name since the day I was born, you think I can just forget all of that?”

Javier was quiet. “You think I want a soulmate?” He asked quietly, and you froze.

“I’m sorry?”

“No!” Javier growled, shaking his head. “I mean, fuck. This job, if they find out you’re connected to me, they’ll kill you.”

Your blood went cold, but you kept your composure. “Hate to break it to you,” you said, shoving Javier’s sleeve up and exposing your name written on his wrist. “But we’re already connected.”

From that day forward, you were under protection. You quit your job, moved reluctantly to an apartment that was secured by the embassy, and barely left the brand new apartment for anything. The war on drugs dragged on, and every so often, Javier would shuffle across the hall and find solace in your arms, always leaving before dawn.

One night, after a particularly hard day, you and him were tangled together on the couch, name wrists pressed against each other. Your skin burned and prickled at the intimate contact, but Javier was so lost he didn’t even notice.

“Javi?”

“Hm?”

You smoothed through his hair. “Will we ever be safe enough to be soulmates?”

Javier was quiet. “I don’t know.”

You sighed. “One day, I hope we will.”

Another long silence, and then Javier spoke up. “Me too.”

That morning, you woke up in his arms instead of in an empty bed, wondering exactly how life would shake out now that you had fallen in love with your soulmate.

Maxwell Lord:

Dream Sharing Soulmate AU

“I’m going to cry,” you groaned, pressing your head to the table. “He hasn’t slept in days.”

Your coworker, Ellie, sighed. “Hon, you just gotta keep trying. Go home, rest up. Get some sleep.”

You stood. Ellie was right. Just because Max wasn’t sleeping didn’t mean you had to punish yourself. You’d been going rounds with him for months, and it was really starting to weigh on your own sleep schedule. All you needed, all you wanted was to go home and sleep for days to correct your broken internal clock.

Your apartment was cold when you got back, and you quickly fiddled with the thermostat before stripping and falling into bed, cuddling up with the blankets and falling asleep almost immediately.

Just as with every night your soulmate didn’t sleep, you didn’t have a soul dream. Instead, you had your regular dreams, all nonsensical and silly. You woke up at one point to eat before falling back into bed, still exhausted.

This time, your dreams were different. You were in a soul dream, which meant he was finally sleeping.

“Max!”

No response as you ran around the elementary school, but you quickly skidded to a stop, seeing bullies mock a young boy for his lunch. That was your Max as a child, and you immediately rushed to his aide.

“Max.”

The real Max, the one who was asleep right now, looked at you with worry, finally tearing his eyes off the bullies. “You.”

“Me,” you said softly. “You need more sleep.”

Max shrugged. You knew who he was, after all, who didn’t? But the suave businessman you knew on TV was very different from the scared man you knew from your dreams. “Wasn’t tired.”

“For three days?” You asked. “Max, that isn’t healthy.” You felt a tug on your gut, a signal that your dream was starting. “C’mon.” You held a hand out, offering Max a reprieve. “My dreams are kind.”

He accepted, taking your hand as you led him to your dreams. In your subconscious reality, you were a child again, laughing and ice skating with your parents.

“Can you skate?” You asked Max, still holding his hand. He shook his head.

You smiled. “That’s okay, you can learn.” You snapped your fingers and skates appeared on both of your feet. “C’mon!”

Turned out, Max was an abysmal skater, but he was laughing by the time your bodies were ready to wake up.

“I don’t wanna go,” he admitted, and you grinned, squeezing his hands tight. “Can we do this again?”

“Tomorrow night,” you promised. “I’ll find you.”

For almost a month, you rescued Max from embarrassing or painful dreams, taking him to your more comforting dreams. Occasionally, he’d do the opposite for you when you had a nightmare, but you mostly spent the nights in your dreams, watching fireworks or going swimming. His darkest secrets were no longer secret, and he trusted you with everything.

“Y’know,” he said softly as you and him watched a Fourth of July fireworks show from when you were seven. “We could do this in real life.”

“We could,” you murmured, leaning closer to him. “The fourth is, what, next week? Doesn’t DC do a beautiful fireworks show?”

Max nodded. “We could make our first shared memory.”

You smiled. “We could,” you agreed. “We will. I’m not too far from DC, I can totally drive down on the fourth. I’ll pick you up from work, how’s that sound?”

“Sounds perfect,” Max murmured softly. “Dreamlike even.”

You laughed. “Dork.”

“Hey, you fell in love with me!”

“Yeah,” you said, looking at Max’s firework illuminated face. “I did.”

Pero Tovar:

Color Soulmate AU

You pressed the leaf between your fingers, trying to gauge how sick the plant was. The grey color didn’t worry you, because you were fairly certain it was still green. “It just needs more water,” you determined, standing and brushing yourself off. “Try watering these plants daily instead of every other.”

The woman you were helping nodded, and you smiled at her as you walked back to your own garden. Rolling your sleeves up, you got to work tending to your plants.

It was hours before you looked up, alerted by the sound of hooves on the ground. A mysterious man was sitting atop a horse, his hair long and greasy, his face creased from what you imagined was a grueling ride. He jumped off the horse and stumbled in your direction, leaning against the fence. You stood, abandoning the plants in favor of helping the man.

He shook off your help, but stopped the second his hand connected with yours and both your worlds exploded with color.

You stumbled back, the sudden colors shocking you as the man reeled from you, his sun battered face full of shock.

“I’m sorry!” You said quickly, steadying yourself and reaching out to the man. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” the man said firmly, right before he passed out.

Two days later, the man woke up, his partner by his side. The blond man had showed up yesterday, introducing himself as William and the mystery man as Pero Tovar.

Pero looked around, nervous as he saw you in the corner, slowly and methodically mending his shirt. “William, quien es este.”

William shrugged. “I don’t know. Not a nurse, from what I can tell.”

“Diles que se vayan.”

“I’m not leaving,” you said, without looking up. “And please continue to talk about me in a language you assume I don’t understand.”

Pero blinked a few times. “You’re smart.”

“I pick up on languages fast,” you said, setting down the mended shirt. “Who are you, Pero Tovar?”

William looked between you two before finally speaking up. “Should I leave?”

“Please,” you said.

William left, and you crossed your legs. “So, who are you?”

“No one you should know,” Pero growled, getting up and grabbing his shirt. “Just forget you ever met me. You have your colors, go live a happy life.”

You frantically tried to keep him in the village, but he left with William as soon as the local medic deemed him okay.

For the next week, you slowly learned colors, finding your favorites with much trial and error. Some of the village women who had lost their soulmates in battles consoled you as you grieved for a man you barely knew, a man who had given you a universe of change and then left as if it had been nothing.

Almost exactly one week later, the sound of hooves rang out again, and this time, you didn’t look up from your gardening. At least, not until the visitor entered your garden, standing in front of your vegetables.

You looked up at him, taking in a much neater and more groomed Pero. He seemed nervous, shuffling from foot to foot.

Standing, you raised an eyebrow. “Can I help you?”

Pero nodded, handing you his dagger.

You took the weapon. “What’s this?”

“In my culture,” Pero began. “When a man is ready to settle with his soulmate, he must give them his most prized weapon as a way of showing he is ready to stop fighting and raise a family.”

The dagger gleamed in the sunlight, and you smiled. “Well then, I guess I should make dinner for two, shouldn’t I?”

Pero grinned. “Yes, that would be nice. I’m hungry.”

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giveamadeuschohisownmovie · 3 years

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Hypothetical TV shows: “Agent Jimmy Woo”

Spin-off series centered on Marvel’s lovable FBI agent, Jimmy Woo (Randall Park). Plot breakdown:

Episode 1

This is mainly an introduction to Jimmy Woo. We learn that he’s a lonely man, living by himself, doesn’t really have that many friends, and is not close to his family. The closest friend he has is Darcy Lewis, continuing their friendship from “WandaVision”. Throughout the episode, Jimmy gets these weird flashbacks that we have no context for. The flashbacks are to establish that Jimmy has some sort of dark past that we haven’t seen.

Most of the episode is “normal”, until Jimmy receives a strange letter to his office. When Jimmy opens the letter, he sees that it’s a picture of a dead man, with the words, “REMEMBER ME, JIM?” smeared in blood in the background. Jimmy immediately realizes who did this and flees the building. As he’s running, he bumps into Darcy, who is here because they were supposed to go out for coffee. Jimmy tries to come up with an excuse, until he sees a couple of shady people approaching him. This leads to a thrilling, John Wick-style fight scene, in which Jimmy takes down all the assassins sent after him.

The episode ends with Darcy staring at him in shock, wondering who is this man standing before her.

Episode 2

This episode picks up right after the end of the previous episode. Jimmy and Darcy are on the run, fighting their way through hordes of assassins sent to kill Jimmy. We get a close-quarters combat fight scene, a gunfight, and a car chase, all in the first half of the episode. Eventually, Jimmy and Darcy reach this mysterious location, where they meet a woman who seems to recognize Jimmy. The woman introduces herself as Monica Chang (played by Yunjin Kim), a former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent and Nick Fury’s ex-wife.

Jimmy says he needs to get out of the country since “Golden Claw” has somehow come back from the dead and is out to get him. Monica then arranges a transport to Madagascar for both Jimmy and Darcy. This is where we get the big reveal; Jimmy Woo is a former S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who went underground after the events of “Captain America: The Winter Soldier”. Golden Claw was Jimmy’s arch-nemesis who he thought he killed years ago.

As Jimmy and Darcy make their way to Madagascar, Darcy asks Jimmy for the full story. Jimmy figures he has nothing left to lose and starts to recount his past, leading to the next episode.

Episode 3

Flashback episode, set before the events of “The Avengers”. Jimmy Woo is a high-ranking S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who is close friends with Phil Coulson and Monica Chang. We learn that Jimmy is hunting down Plan Chu, the Golden Claw (played by Joe Taslim). Golden Claw is considered the “Kingpin of Asia” and rules over all the crime syndicates in the continent, from the Yakuza to the Triads to Madripoor. To emphasize this point, although Sharon Carter/Power Broker rules Madripoor, she answers to Golden Claw since he’s the one who helped her take control of the nation.

Due to how powerful and dangerous Golden Claw is, S.H.I.E.L.D. began targeting him, with Jimmy leading the charge. In this episode, we see the end of Jimmy’s operation; S.H.I.E.L.D. leads an assault on Golden Claw’s mansion, which eventually leads to Jimmy facing off against Golden Claw one-on-one. The two men fight, which ends with Jimmy tossing Golden Claw off a cliff. Claw is presumed dead since his body is never found.

Cut to several years later, Jimmy goes underground due to Steve Rogers exposing HYDRA’s existence in S.H.I.E.L.D.. With Nick Fury’s help, he scrubs away his past and takes on a new job as a FBI agent. The episode ends with Jimmy meeting with Scott Lang in “Ant-Man and the Wasp”.

Post-credits scene: After being tossed off the cliff, Golden Claw is found by Sharon Carter, who was part of the S.H.I.E.L.D. assault. She decides to nurse him back to health, indicating that even before she became the Power Broker, she was a double agent working for the Golden Claw.

Episode 4

Golden Claw-centric episode, focused on his origin story. We learn Plan Chu was actually born during the First Opium War (1839). He grew up poor and angry at the British for their attacks on China. Eventually, he ends up becoming an apprentice to a mystic/alchemist and learns how to develop elixirs that can grant him special powers. One elixir in particular prolongs his lifespan, explaining how he’s still alive in the modern day. Plan Chu’s master eventually dies from old age. Using the skills he learned, Plan Chu creates his criminal empire and earns the nickname “Golden Claw”.

In the modern day, Golden Claw, who has fully recovered from his battle with Jimmy Woo, starts targeting all the S.H.I.E.L.D. agents who were part of the operation to kill him. Sharon Carter provides him the names, leading to a sequence where multiple former S.H.I.E.L.D. agents are killed by Golden Claw’s mercenaries. Although Jimmy Woo manages to get away, Golden Claw moves on to the next step of his revenge; finding out who ratted him out to S.H.I.E.L.D. in the first place, leading to the assault on his mansion.

Golden Claw learns that the one who betrayed him was Suwan (played by Ali Wong), his grandniece and a leading member of the Triads. Although that’s his family, Golden Claw puts a bounty on Suwan’s head.

In the B-story, Jimmy and Darcy arrive in Madagascar, where they meet Derek Khanata (played by Adewale Akinnuoye-Agbaje), A former Wakandan special forces operative, a S.H.I.E.L.D. ally, and a friend of Jimmy Woo.

Episode 5

In Madagascar, Derek takes Jimmy and Darcy to a hideout in order to discuss battle plans. Derek tells Jimmy that Golden Claw has already killed most of the original S.H.I.E.L.D. team that was sent after him, which enrages Jimmy. Wanting revenge, Jimmy asks if they have any leads on Golden Claw’s whereabouts. Although he’s reluctant to go after Claw, Derek suggests going after M’Demwe (played by Barkhad Abdi), a ruthless warlord who has ties to the Golden Claw.

Most of this episode is focused on Jimmy, Darcy, and Derek hunting down M’Demwe while avoiding the authorities and Golden Claw mercenaries that are in the area. Eventually, the trio manages to capture M’Demwe, leading to a thrilling car chase. After the chase, M’Demwe says he has no idea where Golden Claw is...but that they can get Golden Claw to come to them. When Darcy asks what does that mean, M’Demwe says that Claw put a bounty on his grandniece’s head. If they get to Suwan first, that could force Golden Claw to come out of hiding.

Jimmy realizes this is about Suwan, indicating that they had a prior relationship. Jimmy asks M’Demwe where Suwan is and M’Demwe reveals that she’s in Montenegro on vacation. He then has Derek arrange a flight to Montenegro.

In the B-story, Suwan is seen gambling at a fancy casino in Montenegro. Suwan’s bodyguard tells her about the bounty placed on her head, which she waves off. She then says something ominous, that no one can touch her on her property.

Episode 6

Jimmy, Darcy, and Derek arrive in Montenegro. Golden Claw arrives around the same time. This is mostly a character development episode, in preparation for the final showdown. The following interactions occur:

1) Golden Claw meets with Suwan and tells him that he knows she betrayed him. Suwan demands to know why Golden Claw won’t just kill her himself, which Claw can’t answer. Suwan then confirms to herself that Claw can’t bring himself to kill her since he still loves her and that the bounty was his way of pushing the guilt onto someone else. Golden Claw doesn’t say it but he sees Suwan as one of his daughters, which is why he can’t just kill her himself.

2) More Jimmy and Darcy bonding. We learn more about Darcy’s family life and that she hung out with Jimmy for the same reason he hung out with her; she doesn’t have many friends outside of work.

3) Jimmy meets up with Suwan and reconnects with her. Jimmy says he’s here to protect her but Suwan says he’s here to use her to reach Golden Claw. We learn that in the past, Suwan was sent by Golden Claw to kill Jimmy but ended up falling in love with him. That’s also part of the reason why Suwan betrayed Golden Claw.

4) Golden Claw meets with Darcy, who doesn’t recognize him, and the two bond over a game of Texas hold’em. This scene is meant to humanize Golden Claw, that he’s not just a power-hungry criminal mastermind.

5) Suwan and Darcy bonding. This is mainly played for laughs, with Darcy being curious about what this incredibly dangerous Triad boss saw in Jimmy. Suwan interprets Darcy’s interest in her past romance with Jimmy as jealousy, leading to a hilarious misunderstanding.

Episode ends with Jimmy, Darcy, and Derek’s covers being blown, leading to everything going south. Golden Claw and his troops corner the main trio, forcing Suwan to have her guards confront Golden Claw’s mercenaries. With everyone pointing guns at each other, the episode ends on a massive cliffhanger.

Episode 7

Picking up right after the previous episode, the Mexican standoff between Suwan, Jimmy, and Golden Claw turns into a massive shootout, resulting in several casualties on all sides. Golden Claw’s army is forced to retreat, giving Suwan and Jimmy time to recover. This is the episode where we reach peak John Wick since right after Golden Claw’s retreat, Suwan takes Jimmy into her office in order to prepare for the second wave. Jimmy arms himself to the teeth, leading into the next attack.

Most of this episode is the battle between Suwan’s side and Golden Claw’s side. The battle is seen from these perspectives:

1) Jimmy and Derek at the forefront, fighting against the highly trained Golden Claw mercenaries

2) Darcy going off on her own in order to contact the Montenegro authorities (there’s a subplot where Darcy learns that Golden Claw managed to move the Montenegro police away from the area)

3) Suwan directing everyone from her office and coming up with the battle plans.

The big fight in this episode is between Jimmy Woo and Golden Claw’s top mercenary, Harold Kenkoy (played by Michael Bisping). Harold is the series’ secondary antagonist, with his role being similar to Brock Rumlow in “CA: The Winter Soldier”. Jimmy kills Harold after a brutal, one-on-one fight.

The battle ends when Darcy comes through with her mission to contact the Montenegro authorities. Unfortunately, Golden Claw manages to flee and retreats back to Madripoor. Not wanting to go through this again, Jimmy, Darcy, Derek, and Suwan decide to follow him.

Episode 8 - season finale

As the big finale of the series, Jimmy and friends reconnect with Monica Chang, who brings a team of other former S.H.I.E.L.D. agents to assist. On the other side, Golden Claw meets with Sharon Carter and tells her that he’ll be taking over Madripoor while he regroups from his previous loss. Sharon angrily states that he can’t just take her throne, leading to a “betrayal” scene. However, just when you think Sharon has the upper hand, Golden Claw reverses the situation when Sharon’s mercenaries turn against her. Claw says that he’s the one who gave her power and that he could easily take it away.

Sharon fights through her former mercenaries and joins up with Jimmy Woo. They form a temporary truce when Jimmy tells her that he’s only in Madripoor to stop the Golden Claw once and for all. With Sharon’s help, Jimmy’s side forms a plan to trap Golden Claw.

Of course, the plan goes awry, leading to Golden Claw closing down the whole country in order to trap Jimmy’s team. With nowhere to go and all the criminals in Madripoor gunning for them, Jimmy goes off on his own to corner Golden Claw. In the midst of all this chaos, Darcy is captured and taken to Claw. Darcy, having bonded with Claw earlier, tries to appeal to his humanity and convince him to give up his revenge quest. Claw refuses and says that he’s justified since S.H.I.E.L.D. was the one who instigated this whole situation.

After a series of incidents, Jimmy Woo eventually confronts Golden Claw. The two fight, mirroring their fight from years ago. Jimmy wins after managing to fatally shoot Claw in the chest. As Claw dies, the two acknowledge each other, with Claw glad to have been killed by a worthy opponent. Sharon takes back control of Madripoor and, to thank Jimmy for stopping Claw, allows everyone to leave. She also rescinds all the bounties that Golden Claw set up. With that, everyone goes home.

The rest of the episode is just wrapping up the story. Suwan goes back to Montenegro, Derek goes back to Madagascar, and Monica tells Jimmy that she’s founding a new spy agency to fill in the space left by S.H.I.E.L.D. This ends up being the Atlas Foundation, which we’ll see in a future series. Jimmy says he’ll consider joining but for now, he’s going back to his job at the FBI. Season ends with Jimmy and Darcy getting coffee.

POST-CREDITS SCENE: Jimmy Woo is with Darcy at the coffee shop when he’s approached by a messenger. The messenger tells Jimmy that he was named the sole heir of Golden Claw’s empire. Jimmy says that can’t be true but the messenger confirms this by showing him a copy of Claw’s will. Jimmy stares at the will in shock as he realizes that he’s become the new Kingpin of Asia.

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tahitianmangoes · 3 years

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Snow Falls

Pairing: Charles x Arthur Summary: After Charles had found Arthur unconscious on that mountain and he vowed that he'd never leave him again. Now he’d broken that vow. Words:3018 Chapter 1/1

Not cannon compliant | NSF W

And the snow falls, the wind calls The year turns round again 'Til then put your trust in tomorrow my friend For yesterday's over and done

****

The cabin was the best way up a mountain, far from prying eyes. They were safe here. Arthur could rest here. Charles could almost rest too but he would be lying if he said that he didn’t spend the moments that he wasn’t caring for Arthur looking over his shoulder for bounty hunters, Pinkertons or worse, Dutch and Micah.

Arthur was awake before Charles, he had gotten out of bed and was stoking the fire. “I can do that,” Charles said huskily, still half asleep and half dressed, getting out of bed and going over to Arthur.

Arthur's frame was slimmer than it had been a few months ago, a few months ago when Arthur had been well enough to eat. At that time, Charles had been able to see Arthur's spine through his paper white skin when the older outlaw let Charles bathe him. No matter how hard Charles tried to get Arthur to eat more, he didn't. He couldn't. Some days, he had no appetite. Some days, it was all he could do to get out of bed and sit by the cabin window. His brilliant blue eyes were less blood shot now though, perhaps because the stillness of the mountains allowed him to sleep compared to their tiny but noisy room in Saint Denis. The colour had returned to his sallow cheeks and he was beginning to grow stronger day by day.

But Charles could still hear Arthur's breaths sometimes, laboured and shaky. He tried to hide how breathless he became doing simple things like even brushing the horses, tried to stifle his coughs from Charles perhaps because he was embarrassed but of course, nothing escaped Charles.

“I know,” Arthur replied, “but I want to. Maybe you can let me chop the firewood from now on - you always do it.” “Oh Arthur…” Charles started. “Don’t oh Arthur me, “ Arthur said quickly. “Charles, I know you’re just trying to help but… I’m bored! I’m so damned bored, stuck in a little cabin in the middle of nowhere like… Like Little Red Riding Hood!” Charles chuckled at this. “It ain’t funny, Charles.” Arthur said huffily, continuing to stoke the fire doggedly. “You said we’d be across the border soon and I’m... I'm feeling better. We could go soon.”

Charles sighed, he reached for Arthur’s face. Arthur let Charles stroke the soft downy hair out of his eyes and caress his cheek tenderly. “I just want to take care of you, my love. You’re… well, you’re still healing.” “I’m fine…” Arthur started but Charles brushed his thumb over Arthur’s lips in a bid to silence him. They held each other’s gaze, it hadn’t gone unnoticed by Charles thart Arthur's shimmering blue eyes were more tired these days. But he was still the man Charles had fallen in love with, loved like no other. “We're lucky we've made it this far. I don't want to push the limits. We’ll go as soon as you’re ready, I promise.” Charles said gently, moving his head closer to Arthur's, “you know what the doctor said, you must rest.” “Charles-” “Arthur…”

They didn’t say it often. Arthur would flush and look away and Charles found himself getting tongue tied. So he kissed Arthur and Arthur kissed back. Arthur was always so strong but at the feel of Charles's lips to his own, he softened. He sighed into Charles’s mouth.

“You've spent your whole life taking care of other people,” Charles said to him in earnest, “let me take care of you. Just this one time.” Arthur was powerless to argue.

****

Charles chopped firewood in the morning, made sure Arthur took the medicine the doctor had prescribed for him for his pneumonia with his breakfast of eggs and potatoes. After that, Charles cleaned his guns, crafted some arrows and mended some of his clothes that seemed to miraculously sprout holes faster than he could stitch them. Arthur dozed, the medicine made him drowsy and the warmth from the fireplace only exacerbated things. Charles was glad to see Arthur resting, though. Once he was better, they would head further north into Canada and start a new life. Get some land. Maybe some animals, too. Maybe change their names. Spend every day together. Grow old together. Forget what happened out east. Love each other until they stopped drawing breath… But Arthur wasn’t well enough yet. Charles had waited this long, he could wait a while longer.

Charles’s cough started that evening after dinner. Arthur’s eyes widened, “d-did I..?” Charles shook his head and laughed softly, “it’s not contagious. I must have caught the cold, that’s all.” By the next morning, the cough had worsened and Charles's chest hurt; it felt like he was tearing through him with each swing of his axe while he chopped the firewood as usual. He fixed breakfast while Arthur slept in - he hadn’t slept well during the night, he'd woken wheezing a few times and sweating. Charles had feared it was a fever but he seemed better by the time he awoke the next day.

Charles didn’t tell Arthur that it hurt when he moved, that his head felt stuffy and the blood pounded like he’d been running. But he didn’t need to. Arthur noticed that Charles seemed groggy and tired. “It’s just a cold. I’ll be fine.” Charles said dismissively.

But Arthur saw how he shivered as he tried to stitch the clothes he hadn’t managed to finish yesterday.

“Come to bed.” “Arthur, I’m hardly in the mood-” Charles was cut off by Arthur’s rasping laugh. “I ain’t propositioning you, Mr Smith.” Charles looked over at Arthur who was still lying down and felt his cheeks burn hot with embarrassment. “It’s warm here. We can keep each other warm, pair o’ invalids together.” Arthur said, patting the bed beside him. Charles smirked. “How can I resist?”

So the pair of them spent the rest of the day in bed together, huddling under the blankets, Charles's head aching and his chest tight, dozing in each other's arms in a contended way that they’d never really been able to when they had been living a life on the run.

They spent the next few days like that until the worst of Charles's cold passed. Arthur seemed to enjoy this role reversal of taking care of Charles. He made him hot herbal tea that he said Hosea had taught him to brew. Better than that stuff you buy in the store. Whether the tea really helped or not, Charles was able to get up and back to his usual self (or near enough,) after a couple of days. But by this time, there was almost no food left in the cabin. “I’m going hunting,” Charles told Arthur that morning. “Charles… you’re not well.” Arthur said sleepily, holding his hand as he went to leave the bed to get dressed. Charles tugged away reluctantly, fingers slipping through Arthur's like water. “I’m well enough. Besides, we’ll both starve if I don’t go. I’ll be back before nightfall, I promise you.”

But he wasn’t.

The snow came down heavy and thick. Charles cursed himself for being so careless, so stupid. He’d been tracking a mountain ram, perhaps a little too far. He should have known when to give up and turn back, maybe ride into town the next day and get supplies from the general store but as much as Charles would never admit it, it was his pride that kept him out longer than he should have been. He didn’t want to return to Arthur empty handed, though he knew Arthur wouldn’t be disappointed. It was stupid, male pride. It was that pride that found him unable to get back across the mountain to the cabin, to Arthur. Taima had always been a strong horse but this had proven to be her limit. The snowstorm rolled across the hills and Charles was lucky in that he found a cave that looked like it had once been home to animals of some sort - wolves he suspected - but now seemed empty. He did his best to light a fire for them both but the wood he managed to gather in the boisterous wind was too wet and the embers soon died out.

The storm swirled and the wind howled. He was reminded of the time after the Blackwater fiasco, when the gang had been stuck in a storm at Colter. It seemed like a lifetime ago now. He had shared his first kiss with Arthur not long after that, just before the gang had moved from Horseshoe Overlook to Clemens Point. He remembered that night, when they’d camped under the stars in Big Valley, how Charles had felt so comfortable with Arthur in a way he’d never felt with anyone else. He’d never foreseen this future for himself, falling for a man, a white man, a murderer and outlaw… but Charles knew he couldn't question the way the world turns. All he knew was that he cared for Arthur in a way that set his heart on ablaze like nothing before.

Rains Fall had looked him deeply in the eyes that night when Arthur returned to Beaver Hollow and said, “go to him.” Charles had opened his mouth to protest but Rains Fall shook his head steadfastly, He had wore a sorrowful smile but the look in his eyes was as resolute as ever. “I have lost too many people I love, Mr Smith. You have too.” He lay his hand gently on Charles’s shoulder. “Mr Morgan can be saved. He needs you more than we do, now go.”

So Charles had rode into the night, the sky had gone from deepest navy to a blanket of obsidian above him. No stars shone. Charles rode desperately to Arthur, each beat of his heart was Arthur’s name as he flattened his body to Taima’s and urged her faster and faster, please, girl. Please just this once, please.

He had found Arthur unconscious on that mountain and he vowed that he'd never leave him again. Now he’d broken that vow.

As the snow came down harder and faster than ever, Charles paced the cave, flooded with images of Arthur alone in the cabin and endless “what ifs?” Eventually the night rolled in, the moon reflecting off of the snow as if it were the ocean and Charles knew he he could do nothing but wait.

Two days passed. Charles managed to start a fire and kept himself and Taima warm. It was a comfort to have her there, she'd been through a lot with him and turned out to be the most loyal of everyone in the end. On the third morning, the snow had all but stopped and it was so serene on the mountain now, as if the storm had never happened. Charles mounted up and urged Taima back to the cabin, fearing the worst with every beat of his heart.

****

It was dark by the time Charles burst through the door of the cabin, Arthur was already on his feet. Neither said anything as they embraced, Charles holding Arthur so tight to his chest, tighter than he should be he didn’t care. Needed to feel the warmth of the other man, to feel his breath on his neck as they stood like that while time seemed to stand still and all that could be heard was the crackling from the fire. He wouldn’t let Arthur go ever again.

And then they were kissing. Kissing without care nor hesitation nor complexity. Just two people so fiercely in love.

“I’ve missed you,” Charles breathed, kissing Arthur so hard it almost knocked the air from his lungs. “I love you,” came Arthur’s reply, his lips soft and warm against Charles’s cold ones.

He’d missed Arthur desperately, that feeling that he might not see him again, just like the night he went to the mountain had flooded him Every doubt he’d ever had, every time he had wondered if he had made the right decision was erased.

He kissed Arthur hard, bruisingly so. Arthur sighed into the kiss, lacing his arms around Charles’s neck and pressing their bodies together.

Charles had never loved anyone like this, never felt the branches grow, felt it take root in him until it was at his very centre. All consuming. The reason he woke up in the morning and the reason he didn't just give up when things looked bleak. The reason the sunsets looked beautiful and the reason why food tasted good.

Charles didn't know which one of them had started to the bed or maybe it was both but suddenly, he was lying Arthur down and Arthur was kissing his neck and unbuttoning his shirt.

Charles hesitated, “Arthur… Are you sure?” He asked gently.

They’d only done this a handful of times, Arthur inexperienced and shy about his body, Charles not wanting to press the issue because of Arthur’s inexperience but also because Arthur was still frail. But he’d make love to Arthur every day if he could just to see the way the older man’s eyes seemed to shine when he lay beneath Charles and how his face lost all tension when it was enraptured by bliss.

Since Arthur got sick, they hadn’t been able to be intimate. Arthur’s health was more important. And then they were moving from place to place, Charles paranoid that someone had recognised them from their bounty posters even though he would slip out at night sometimes while Arthur slept and tear them down, burning them in the fire.

This was the first time in months that they were truly alone. Arthur leaned up to kiss Charles’s lips, before pulling away, their eyes meeting in a rich gaze, “it’s ok… I want to do this.” he told him

Charles brushed Arthur’s hair from his face, the love he felt overpowering him, hands working away at Arthur’s shirt and union suit until he was bare. Charles kissed his lover’s pale, flushed skin, ran his lips tenderly over the gunshot wound at his shoulder, let his tongue flick teasingly around Arthur's nipples and softly nibble at his stomach, delighting in how Arthur quaked beneath him and gasped.

Arthur’s hands reached for Charles, too, slipping his shirt off of him, fingers working at buttons and fastenings until Charles was freed of his clothes. Arthur continued, caressing the wide expanse of Charles’s back, down his flank and kneading his ass. Charles chuckled softly. “I want you,” Arthur whispered. “You’re sure?” “Y-yeah.”

Charles rolled them both over so that Arthur was now astride him. His feet remained planted on the floor, his hips supported by the bed, Arthur straddled him. Both were panting and flushed, both achingly hard.

Arthur looked away hesitantly, arms moving up instinctively to cover himself but Charles held his wrists gently, “I want to see you, all of you.” Still not meeting Charles’s gaze, Arthur positioned himself over Charles’s length and, not able to wait any longer, after quickly slicking it with hair pomade (that tore a shiver down Charles’s spine but he managed to stop himself from bucking up into Arthur), he sunk down, swallowing Charles inch by inch.

Both of them gasped and moaned softly. Arthur’s dazzling eyes closed now as he adjusted to the length buried deep inside him to the hilt..

Arthur moved, he groaned as he did so. Charles filled him, felt so big inside. He reached down, steading himself by placing his palms on Charles's broad chest and then began to find a pace that he could enjoy. Charles watched with adoration as Arthur rode him, slow and sensual at first. He saw the flush deepening, saw his brow furrow as he found a rhythm, Charles placed his hands on Arthur’s hips to steady him Charles reached up to caress Arthur torso, his hips, the swell of his ass. The older outlaw’s weight bared down on him, engulfing him. Everything from the past few days, the past awful months felt like white noise. All Charles could focus on was his hard cock inside Arthur, his breathing, Arthur’s moans, their bodies rubbing against each other's, the feel of Arthur’s erection on his stomach as he slid in and out out of him, him becoming part of Arthur and Arthur becoming part of him.

It didn’t take long for Arthur's moans to grow louder and for him to bring himself down harder, passage squeezing Charles, making Charles growl in response. Arthur’s eyes rolled back and his body stiffened, he juddered almost collapsing if Charles hadn’t been holding him. He came without touching himself the first time. Charles saw the ecstasy clouding Arthur’s vision and as he barely came down from his first orgasm, he began to chase a second, raising his hips, grinding down on Charles with a force that Charles hadn't been certain Arthur wasn't capable of. Arthur huffed and cursed, he chanted Charles's name between low, careless moans. Charles groaned, doing his best not to spill himself in Arthur just yet and fill him up as much as would love to, Arthur’s heat was hypnotising but so was the way he moved, so was the way he looked above him, fawn coloured hair framing his handsome face, biting down on his lip, unable to hide how good this made him feel, how much he loved this,

Charles’s cock wrung orgasm after orgasm out of Arthur until he was left breathless and exhausted and finally collapsed into Charles’s arms. Charles thrust up into Arthur now, shivering and chest rumbling as he came, foreheads pressed together, breath hot on his face, Arthur’s lips trailing lazy kisses over his skin until they both stilled and lay in each others arms.

They lay like that until it began to grow light again outside and Charles could hear birdsong. "I love you," Charles murmured. Arthur slipped his hand in Charles's and whispered it back before he began to snore softly.

#charthur #rdr2 #writing #charles x arthur #arthur morgan #charles smith

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