#‘there was a way out planned for you but after watching you demolish 5 buckets of popcorn in 7 minutes im not sure | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

beskarberry · 3 years

Text

Devil’s Advocate

Bargaining with Beskar, Chapter 5

(The Mandalorian x f!reader)

“That your girl over there?” Mando followed their gaze wordlessly, reluctant to make friends right now while he was busy waiting for you to call him back to your side. “Thought so.” The stranger took a long drag on an inhalant, blowing vibrant pink clouds into the smoky room. “Sorry for your loss, Elios always gets what he wants.” Mando turned again to the stranger, fixing them with his black hole glare, but they only shrugged; watching the drinking game unfold between you and the devil himself.

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 11.2k whoops

Content warnings: VICES: gambling/smoking/drinking (reader drinks) Introduction of chapter-specific OC characters. Lots of angst to fluff, sexy times of course.

A/N: This might be more self indulgent than the first chapters but not because of the smut. I kinda go off about fancy clothes so long descriptions of costumes are a big chunk of this chapter.

<-Previous Next->

You hated everything about Canto Bight.

Everything about the city was so... artificial. The stadium flood lights, the glowing neon signs, even the ocean herself had been excavated from the planet’s stubborn sandstone surface instead of eroded naturally by the march of time. To you it was like looking at Corellia’s gold painted twin, a monument to the hubris of all sentient life.

Even the patrons of the gilded city were fake; their clothes, their makeup, their personalities. Every aspect of them was perfectly curated to deceive and lie, whatever fanciful display would work best to cheat their way to the jackpot. You almost wished you could look past the falseness of it, experience the visual fanfare of light and color that reflected on every surface. You wanted the music and the art and the decor that had been so carefully picked and placed to mean something to you, to sparkle in your heart just as it sparkled in the eyes of the teeming masses. But, all for naught, the gleaming metropolis stung your eyes; and you turned away from it to admire the quaint little space that actually mattered to you.

You shared the tight quarters of the cockpit with the two strange boys that had recently whisked you away to the stars. Mando was seated in the pilot's chair with his tiny green son perched in his lap, trying to get him to eat his dinner without making so much of a mess. You had already eaten, and you were turning the last hunter’s puck over in your hand, reluctant to get this chase started and take away from the familial scene beside you. It would have to happen sooner or later, and you gave the puck a squeeze to fire up the projector. A ghostly blue fog glowed up into the space above your palm, and the face that looked back at you was surprisingly fair; if not for his crimson skin and long black horns you wouldn’t have known he was Devaronian by his elegant features alone.

Elios Blackwater was a dapper debonair, his high cheekbones angled sharply under devious eyes towards a sly, sharp toothed grin. The puck notes didn’t specify what he was wanted for, though from the looks of his charming smile and shifting eyes it could easily be anything from a gamblers quarrel to breaking hearts, with a higher reward for being returned alive rather than dead. He would most likely be in a heavily inhabited area, probably as close to Canto Bight’s aurelian heart as possible. You didn’t know why Mando had taken a bounty puck for such a densely populated world, and you would have loved to know what his plan was to get to the city’s casino center before you had arrived in his life. A pair of ragamuffin bounty hunters and their floating baby bucket would stick out like sore thumbs in this gilded mecca of gamblers. If you were going to get to your quarry without being arrested, you were going to have to blend in.

“We’re going to have to do something about...this.” You said, waving your hand in front of your partner’s ferocious attire, though truthfully you weren’t dressed any more appropriately for the mission at hand. “They’ll see us coming a mile away.”

He glanced down at himself with a tilt of his helmet, ignoring the mess his son was making of his meal. “What do you have in mind?”

You weren’t entirely sure yet. From where the Crest was parked you could see the glittering city’s reflection sparkling on the water far ahead of you down the beach, a sight most would find alluring, but to you it was just harsh glare. Nearby where you had landed were other space craft parked up and down the gravelly, machine-carved beach; the pleasure cruisers of wealthy betters made your little scrapheap look even worse than it already did. You watched out the cockpit’s transperisteel window, noting the movement of patrons and their attending droids loading skiffs with piles of luggage, and got yourself a mighty fine idea.

"I think so, but you're probably not going to like it. Stay here." You rose from your seat and kissed the baby on the head, earning yourself a soft, mush-mouthed chirp before you slid down the ladder and let yourself out of the old rust bucket and into the salty sea air of the Cantonican night. Gravel crunched under your boots, and you took a moment to turn and glance back at the Crest, catching the faintest flicker of scope glare where Mando was nervously watching you from the flight deck. Ahead of you a large cruiser was being unloaded by droids, the owners having long since made their way to the casinos, and you made yourself known to the robotic servants with your most charming damsel-in-distress voice.

"Hello! Excuse me! My luggage is too heavy to carry, can you help me? It's just over here on my ship..." The droid nearest you made a stiff bowing motion and tottered after you with the loaded hoverskiff floating along behind. You guided the droid up the open ramp and into the bowels of the ship to where your difficult luggage lay. It never stood a chance, bits of wire and duraplast flew across the cabin like confetti from the blaster shot to its head. Mando lowered his gun back to his holster, freeing his hands to help you haul the skiff into the narrow cabin space, then quickly close the ramp behind you.

The sled took up most of the walking space in the ship, so you got up on top of it and began looting through the stolen designer bags, pulling resplendent finery out into the hazy light. The first tote was full of piles of silk sewn for something with more arms than the two of you put together, so most of those items were tossed to the floor. The second bag was just capes, each a unique and lovely pattern, but nothing more. You demolished the remaining bags, making piles on the floor for ‘maybes’ and ‘definitely-nots’ until you found what you were looking for: a humanoid woman’s clothes.

Most of the unknown lady’s elegant garments would be just slightly too big on you, but you were able to settle on a soft, garnet colored evening gown that would go just above your knees, with extra length in the back. It had a sloping neckline that plunged at your cleavage, and around the bell of the skirt were silver rhinestones that caught the light of the cabin like dewdrops, the weight of them giving the dress a wistful sway. You wouldn't be able to carry much in such a revealing article, but a blaster and a knife alone had gotten you out of more trouble than you would care to admit.

You were fishing through the feminine things for something to do about your hair when you caught Mando in the corner of your eye. He was leaning against the hull wall, just watching you as you made a fat mess of the Razor's interior. You smiled down at him from your floating perch and held up the fanciful garment that you had picked out for him to see. "You like it?"

"It doesn't suit you, mesh’la." He said with a lazy tilt of his helmet. You had begun to mentally keep track of all the Mando’a he used around you, and you were starting to notice his frequent use of affectionates. You spun slightly so he could get a good look at how the fabric moved in the light, but the hunter gear you currently had on took away from the loveliness of the expensive clothes. You guessed he preferred your killer garb anyway over the flimsy, delicate fabric. Or nothing at all.

"Well, it’ll have to do, and if you don't start picking something out for yourself I’m going to dress you up like a dandy.”

He sighed, long and tired before turning his attention to the silken pile on the floor. You went back to the luggage, finding some knee high boots that were close enough to your size, but had a heel height that was going to make your ankles cry. You picked out some tasteless accessories: some bracelets, and big, jewel-encrusted hair pins to wear as well. The glitzier that you were, the less you would be noticed in this bass-ackward town. When you had made your frivolous selections you hopped off the skiff to help Mando with his costume. He was worse at finding something to wear than you were, having only picked out some of his own black leather gloves and two pairs of pants that were not made for human legs. Mandalorian armor did not come off as far as your metal man was concerned, and you were going to have to find a way to hide his bulk. You convinced him to lose his cloak, chest belts, and the bandoliers on his hips and boots, anything to lighten the load. Loose silks and stiff fiber combos would be your best friend, and you cobbled together what you could for your beskar-burdened buddy.

After what seemed like an eternity you had him dressed to the nines, or at least the eights. You had covered his chest plate in a black silk shirt and stiff black vest. The shirt had wide bottomed sleeves and neat, tight cuffs that hid his vambraces well, but you still made him wear a cinched-waist blazer plus a long, black and silver cape that almost reached the floor. You found a dark red pocket square that matched your dress and tucked it into the pocket of his vest, a subtle, but unmistakable announcement to the world that he was there with you. It was a ridiculous amount of fabric on top of an already massive mountain of metal, but the look was very in-style for Canto Bight. All together he actually passed for something besides a murder machine, and you gave yourself a mental pat on the back for a job well done. Mando held still for you while you fussed with his outfit with only the occasional huff. As much as he didn't like the idea of walking so boldly through the gilded city, he did enjoy your brazen touch each time you added another article of clothing.

“And now for the finishing touch.” There was nothing you could do about his helmet, so you were just going to have to make it look as nice as you could. You hadn’t changed into your chosen disguise yet, so you strode through the messy cabin with ease until you reached the lock box next to the cot. Inside you found the krayt’s teeth that you had gifted him and pulled them out into the light, waving them at him as you stretched over the heaps of fabric on the ground. He raised his hands in protest.

“What if I lose them?”

“You can wear these or you can wear whatever the hell this is.” You held up an enormous chain of jewels that looked like it belonged in the treasure case at an arcade instead of around somebody's neck. “Besides, I know you won't lose them, you like them too much.” He tilted his helmet at you with disdain, and you realized that was precisely the reason he didn’t want to wear them, such lovely gifts should be kept safe and secure. But he let you press the precious trinkets into the recess of his helmet where his human cheeks would be anyway. The frozen pools of moonlight tied everything about his sin-city look into a perfect, glittery bow. You had grown to admire the look of him in his cultural armor, the ferocity of it, the utility and strength of the beskar that shined no matter how much damage it took; and you were a bit sad to see it hidden. The look of the man standing before you had a wildly different feel, though it was not one you were opposed to.

“You look nice, Din.” The sound of his own name coming from your lips made his heart swell, and he reached out for your hand on instinct to pull your knuckles to his brow in the sweet gesture of his people that you both now used. His movements caused the finery he was masquerading in to catch the cabin’s hazy light, and you got excited to put on your own costume and join him in looking like a fool. When he let your hand fall, you bounded over to your pile, throwing the hunting clothes off of yourself as you went. When you were standing there in nothing but your Tattooinian muck boots you cast a sly glance over your shoulder. As expected, the single black eye of your Mandalorian was locked on your almost-naked form, and you realized that in the time you had been together he had never seen you fully naked; just the parts of you he needed to get to in the moment. “How’s this? You like this better?”

When he didn’t answer right away you looked down at yourself and saw what he was staring at. You had forgotten about the marks of conquest he had put there when he had been driven to a sexual frenzy by the last quarry’s poison, still dotting your thighs with dark purple splotches. Not once had you been upset with him for his actions, you were just thankful you both made it through the ordeal alive, but he still looked at the damning marks with shame. He had been forced to break his protector’s oath against his will, inflicting injury to your precious body with his own two hands. You waited until his visor made its way back up to meet your eyes, and you reached out for him to give you his hand. He sheepishly obeyed, and you brought his hand to your lips, kissing at the all-black leather slowly until you heard him sigh through his modulator. You would forgive him a hundred times if you had to, and then a hundred more if it meant he could forgive himself. You pulled his hands to your waist and leaned up against him, enjoying the feel of new clothes on your skin and letting your hands run up his silken arms. “Well you can have this,” You nodded down at your bare everything with a mischievous grin, “As soon as we catch this fucko.”

This was the last bounty you would need before you made the trip back to Nevarro, but you were still on the fence about how completing your mission made you feel. On one hand you would be free of the Guild’s relentless hunters, but on the other your partnership with the strange metal man and his adorable beanbag of a son would come to a close. You turned back to your outfit and began cinching a pair of thigh holsters to your legs, hiding your wincing face as the leather closed around your bruises; a blaster on one leg and a knife on the other. You pulled on the dress and fixed up your hair as best you could, then stepped out of your good boots and into the slutty knee-highs. There was only one loose end to take care of.

“Where’s baby?” You glanced around the messy cabin, looking for your foundling. In the corner under a pile of capes there was movement, and you cleared the flashy finery away to reveal your bestest little friend. Big, glittering orbs looked up at you from the pile of fabric, and a tiny toothy grin shined from his cute baby face. “Heya booger, you ready to go?” You scooped him up in your arms for a hug before picking a big shiny scarf up to wrap him up with, then placed him carefully down in one of the gaudy designer bags. “If anyone asks, he is a pet.” The child didn’t seem to care, he was just happy to be included, waving his little pudgy baby hands up at you to hold. You squeezed his tiny paw, then turned to Mando, “You ready to go, Lord Beskar?”

He glanced down at himself, tilting his palms up and shrugging. “I guess so, I feel ridiculous.”

“Good enough!” You made for the exit ramp with a big stride, and almost broke your damn ankle on the first step, falling gracelessly into the arms of your partner. He caught you with ease, and your cheeks went red with his strong, gentle hands on you again for the hundredth time. You got to your feet, but you would be leaning heavily on him for most of the night until the boots were broken in. With you hanging off of his arm the two of you looked like a proper couple, just heading out for a night on the town instead of two bloodthirsty bounty hunters on the prowl. You might let yourself pretend though, just for the night.

You took a transport speeder from the beach to the city’s entrance, then made your way through the gilded streets, following the red blink of the bounty fob towards your quarry. You had to stop multiple times, the fucking boots making your feet hurt like you knew they would. Mando stood patiently with you each time, and more than once offered to just carry you. His visor would glide from side to side, always on the alert for anyone that might be following you, or worse, hunting you down. The tracking fob led you to the most obvious choice of casino: the tallest, brightest, shiniest temple of vice smack dab in the city’s center.

The front entryway was dominated by a roaring, gushing fountain, shooting geysers in a perfectly timed pattern high into the Cantonican night sky. The fountain was lit up with bright, multicolored spotlights so that every stream of water and drop of spray glittered back in defiance of the stars that had inspired them. Inside, the casino floor was packed with patrons, ranging in size and species in an infinite array of wealth and power. Chandeliers hung high above you from the soaring cathedral ceilings, sending sparkling lights racing around the endless room like shooting stars. Every surface was bright and gleaming, dozens of pillars and statues illuminated by blinding limelight. Even the floor was magnificent, black and white marble with huge inlaid stars, guiding gamblers through the limitless space towards their wildest desires. Again you wished you could appreciate the extravagance of it all, though the way the lights streamed like mercury over the beskar of your pretend date made something else sparkle behind your eyes.

The smell of inhalants and alcohol burned in your nose, and you took a moment to make sure your purse puppy’s face was covered with something so he wouldn’t have to endure it as much as you were. The sound of gamblers and music and roaring competition was louder than the screams of the hyperspace engine aboard the Crest, the cacophony of it all making you anxious. You were thankful that you weren’t hunting this bounty alone, and you still held on to Mando tightly, letting him lead you over the cosmic marble floor through the streaming masses. The people paid you no mind, moving out of the way without casting a second glance. Your costumes were working exactly as you had intended, and you applauded yourself for how well you had deceived the City of Lies.

You had guessed that if your bounty would be anywhere, it would be at the center of attention, and you were right. Elios Blackwater sat at the atrium bar, surrounded by beautiful and interesting people. The glint of gold jewelry caught the radiant casino lights every time he moved, drawing the eyes of all those around him. He was telling some kind of wild story that had his little crowd hooked on every word, though you could tell from a distance he was all bullshit. Immediately you knew this was a man that was used to having everything he desired, never being denied a single whim in all his days. A plan began to simmer in your skull, and you knew right away your partner was not going to like it. If you were going to get the quarry alone, you were going to have to persuade him to leave the company of his fans, and you only knew one sure-fire method for a man of Blackwater’s tastes. You let yourself off of your escorts’ arm to turn and face him, pulling his hands to your hips and letting your own rest on his shoulders so that to any outsiders you two would be just another pair of passionate dancers making their way through the counterfeit cosmos.

“Mando, do you trust me?” His hidden eyes were still glancing around the room, scanning for any lurking threats.

“Of course.” His words went right over your head, his ears too full of the sounds of potential danger to really hear you. You huffed and ran your hands to his bedazzled helmet, pulling it down to meet your eyes.

“Pay attention, bucket boy. I need to hear you say it and know that you mean it. Do you trust me?” He cocked his head, confused that you would have to ask twice.

“Yes, ner cyar’ika, I trust you.”

“Good.” You let your hands fall back to his armored shoulders, pressing yourself up against him tighter. Your fingers fidgeted in the heavy material of his cloak, he was going to hate this. “Because I need to do something. Alone.”

That got his attention fast.

“No, it’s too dangerous here. I want you where I can protect you. What if there’s hunters?”

“I know, I need you to cover me, but from a distance. I think I can convince Elios to walk right into the carbonite freezer, but I can’t do it with you looming over me.” You wrapped your hands around the back of his helmet, pulling him down so that his forehead met with yours. “I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I didn’t think it would work.” He sighed between your hands, the steam of his breath slipping out from under the helmet’s edge. There was nothing he would rather not do than be away from you, but he did trust you, and he nodded against your embrace.

“I’ll call for you as soon as I’m ready, ok? Just keep your eyes on me, and don’t cause a scene. No matter what.” You couldn’t kiss him like you wanted to, but you still pressed your lips to the side of his beskar before letting go, pulling yourself away from his tender grasp. His hands still floated in the space where you had been as you turned away from him and made your way to the bar, the heavy purse bumping against your weaponized thighs with every flint and tinder step of your sky high heels. As you got closer to the bounty you could hear the shreds of his conversation starting to make their way over the noise of the casino.

“...And I said ‘Darlin’ if you didn’t want to take it home with you, ya shouldn’t have put it in your mouth!” The way he was telling his story gave you the impression that it wasn’t one you wanted to hear, and you started to regret your foolhardy plan. Gold rings and precious jewels sparkled all the way from his fingers to the caps on his horns, making it impossible for most to look away, a fact made apparent by his captivated audience. The beautiful boozers laughed and cheered at his every word, though from his stupidass sounding story you wondered how much of the affection was alcohol induced. You pulled a seat up at the bar a few stools away from the crowd and ordered yourself a shot of spotchka and a couple packs of cookies. You slipped the snacks into your bag for Din’s foundling, you would be needing him for your plan to work as well; and the promise of treats would keep his bright-eyed attention on you.

The taste of spotchka was vile, but you had started your journey though the galaxy on the gigantic starcruisers that were built on your homeworld of Corellia, and you had gotten to know the taste of the sailor-favorite drink at a tender age. You sipped at your brew, listening casually to the Devaronian’s conversation, but never turned your eyes to him. Every once in a while another bar patron would swagger up beside you to offer you another shot. You turned down anything you didn’t order yourself, but you started telling them fabricated stories about your life among the stars, most of which were wild tales of fancy from old holovids you had seen. You wished you could turn around and find your favorite rust bucket, wherever he may be hiding among the festivities, and give him something to reassure him. A nod or a wave, anything to let him know you weren’t just making him jealous on purpose.

Soon you were throwing back brightly glowing shots of brew, and a handful of interested patrons had gathered around you to hear about how you had jerry-rigged a star cruiser to run on spotchka when you were a space pirate smuggling kyber crystals for the resistance, among other things. When you had your head tilted back you cast a glance towards the bounty, and saw what you had been waiting for. His hooded eyes were watching you intently, he didn’t like that someone was getting any of the attention pie that he believed was his alone, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before he had to do something about it. Soon enough the dapper devil rose from his entourage, running a painted claw through his long dark hair before making his way to you, sauntering with every step.

Hook.

“Well hello there, darlin’, name’s Elios. What’s a pretty little thing like you doing chugging spotchka when you could be drinkin’ something as fine as you are?” The debonair’s words were long and slow, making sure that every drawn syllable would be heard. “Bartender! Get this lovely lady a real drink, if ya please.” You weren’t sure what counted as a ‘real drink’, but the dark liquid that was slid over to you stank even worse than spotchka with the strength of its proof. Elios couldn’t stand that someone else might be having more fun than he was, and he was determined to put you out of commission. He wanted to do it in such a way that you would be thanking him for it, preferably while on your knees. “What’s yer name, baby cakes?”

From the other side of the busy casino you could feel the void of a visor making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. Mando was standing on the far side of the slot machines where the light was just a little less glaring, so motionless he might have been part of the decorations. He wasn’t sure what your plan was, or how you would talk the quarry into being captured without gaining the suspicion of the wandering security enforcers. He bristled whenever a bar patron started trying to make nice with you, and only got progressively more frustrated when more and more started hanging around you. When he saw the bounty slink his way over to you he wanted to dash across the marble floor and break his fucking neck just for being in your airspace. ‘Don’t make a scene, no matter what’ is what you had told him, and you had asked him to trust you. So he did as he was asked. Watching, waiting.

“Hmm, I don’t think you could handle it.” Oh, Elios didn’t like that one bit, nobody told Mr. Blackwater ‘no’ without consequences. He swirled a glass of the same dark liquid around in one perfectly manicured hand, his polished claws clicking on the side of the glass. You continued to ignore him, but you started on the new drink in front of you. Yucky, at least spotchka was familiar. He took your acceptance of the drink as an invitation to join you at the bar.

“You’re awful sly, baby cakes, tell me yer name so I can make you forget it later.” His pointed teeth flashed out from his crooked smile, and you could smell the stench of expensive cologne and aftershave. You rolled your eyes big and wide so he could see just how unimpressed you were, but your nose was burning from how bad he smelled. This was a bad idea, but only because of how well it was going to work. Fresher soap, where are you?

“I’ll tell you what, if you can out-drink me, I’ll tell you my name.” His wicked smile split his face, showing off rows of brilliant white fangs. Party-boy could probably hold a few good shots, but you were raised by sailors, and you were gonna drink his ass under the table.

“You’re on, sweet cheeks. Bartender! Another round!” Another set of shot glasses plinked to the counter, and vanished just as fast. Elios was eyeing you up and down, seeing if you were all bark and no bite. If he could just get you drunk enough…

Far from where you were drinking the Mandalorian you had asked to trust in you was furious, trying not to thumb the handle of his blaster that poked out from the side of his hip under his cloak. It would be so easy, he could hit the target from here and it would be over, you would be back by his side and not being drooled over by that fucking pathetic excuse for a man.

“He has that effect on people.”

Mando’s helmet snapped on the sounds’ source, so lost in vicious thoughts that he didn’t hear the stranger come to lean against the wall by him. They were tall and thin, translucent green skin and a mop of hair-like cilia growing from their head to their flowy chiffon clothes. They looked exhausted. “That your girl over there?” Mando followed their gaze wordlessly, reluctant to make friends right now while he was busy waiting for you to call him back to your side. “Thought so.” The stranger took a long drag on an inhalant, blowing vibrant pink clouds into the smoky room. “Sorry for your loss, Elios always gets what he wants.” Mando turned again to the stranger, fixing them with his black hole glare, but they only shrugged; watching the drinking game unfold between you and the devil himself.

“Another!” You hollered, but the glasses were already in front of you, then gone again. The Devaronian hissed back the sting of the high-dollar liquor, shaking his long mane that had started to come undone. You pretended to reel from the liquor's effects, leaning back just a tad too far on your seat. “Again!” The third round of shots came and went, and Elios nearly fell off his stool. Right where I want you. You waved at the bartender for the fourth and final shot that would probably put the devil right on his ass, but that’s not where you were headed with this show of tenacity. You had to get him alone before you made your capture, or the security enforcers that littered the casino floor would descend on you like vultures.

You waited til he had thrown his drink back before you tilted yours, purposely spilling a few drops down your front so the booze would trickle down between your breasts. Elios nearly choked, and you knew you had his full, undivided attention. Din, I’m so sorry.

“Woo! I don’t think I can do any more, Mister Blackwater, you win.” you feigned, holding the back of your hand up to your forehead, trying to convince him that the room was spinning for both of you and not just him. His sultry laugh made your skin crawl.

“Please, call me Elios.”

Line.

“Well, Elios, you still wanna know my name? You’re gonna have to work for it.” You placed a hand on his leg, running your fingers up his thigh and around the edge of his waist, pulling at his pockets seductively to drive the point home. Does he have SCALES? What the fuck ew ew ew. He took the hint like a drunk takes to spotchka, flashing you a slurred smile.

“Well… sugar lips, we can take this... elsewhere.”

“Sure thing, Elios, lemme just have my attendant take my Poochie up to my room.” You held the heavy purse up so he could see the big black eyes hiding in its depths.

“What the fuck is that thing?”

“He’s a pet, obviously.”

“What kind’a fuckin’ pet?”

“Purebred.” Your quick answer seemed good enough for Mr. Drinky, and he nodded like that made perfect sense. You raised your fist to the air and snapped your fingers.

The human fortress was at your side in a heartbeat, towering above the two of you. You stuffed the purse in his hands before he could ask where to point his gun. “Here, take Poochums up to my room, mama’s not coming home tonight, if y’know what I mean. Get him washed and fed, and don’t forget to scrub his feet!”

“Yes Ma’am.” The bag was lifted carefully from your fake-drunk hands, and you tried to flash him your best ‘Please-don’t-be-mad-at-me-I-hate-this-too’ face at your partner, but you guessed the look was lost on his visor. The scene did not escape Elios’s eyes like you had hoped it would.

“Now what in the Mmmmaker’s Mammaries is that big ass fuckin’ thing? That some kinda droid? It’s damn fancy.” Shit balls of hell.

“Uh.. Yes! This is the finest in personal assistant droid technology! See, look.” You grabbed Mando’s empty arm and pulled back sharply on the fabric, revealing the delicate button panel of his vambrace. “Only the best money could buy...”

“I gotta get me one of those...” Elios stared bewildered as your personal petsitting droid turned and left. “Well, honey tits, you wanna take this upstairs?” Ugh.

“Oh suurrre… Oh Mr. Blackwater I’m ~soooo~ drunk ahaha…” You were barely buzzed, and you worried that your life among the stars had given your liver bigger balls than a bounty hunter. You wobbled on your stool, for phase two of your plan to work you would have to delay Elios as long as possible. You watched as the man whose heart you had stolen faded away from you, the fancy purse hooped over his shoulder and knocking up against his leg, cape billowing behind him as he went. Alright, Baby Beans, it’s up to you now!

Din was seething under his helmet, pissed as shit that this was what your elaborate ‘plan’ entailed. He was trying not to storm through the casino as he left to take your ‘Poochums’ up to your room, whatever the hell that fucking meant. How could he be so fucking stupid? This was exactly the same ruse you had tried to pull on him from day one. Seduction was your real talent, luring your lovers to their untimely demise. How many times had you pulled this stunt? Was this your master plan all along? Ouch. Play with his heart until you were free of your Guild warrant? Ow. You were just using him to get to Nevarro, then you would fuck off to the stars and leave him behind. After everything you had been through, he was just another notch on your bedp-

“OUCH!”

Din looked down to his side where the pain he was trying to ignore was coming from, and saw a fat green paw sticking out of the ugly expensive purse, digging vicious talons into the side of his leg. His foundling was trying to burrow through his thigh, and his claws might actually have drawn blood. “What, womp rat? What do you want?” There was something in the baby’s other hand, something golden and flashy. Din reached into the bag and pulled the embossed card from his son’s grasp. What’s this? There was a set of numbers etched in gold filigree in the top of the card, their shimmer blasting away the destructive void he had been spiraling into.

Key card! PENTHOUSE key card! You had tricked the bounty into getting close enough to you that you could pick his pocket without him noticing. You were luring Elios right into a trap, and your Mandalorian was the snare. Din felt a mix of emotion ranging from relief to shame, how could he even think for one second that you might be deceiving him? You had asked him to trust you, and he couldn’t even contain his jealousy long enough to make it through one hunt. He felt like such an ass, you were putting your skills to good use, at great risk to your own safety, just like he had asked you to from the beginning. This wasn’t just his hunt anymore, it was a joint effort between the two of you, and it was his turn to run the next leg of the relay. The heavy, silver-laced cloak was tossed to the side as he raced to the elevator, fluttering away behind him as he flew to beat you there.

Meanwhile, you were trying to keep the bounty from falling flat on his face, and the only way to do that was to hold him up yourself. His hands were all over you, the nick of sharp, neat claws catching on the fabric of your evening dress and scratching along your skin. I’m gonna break those fingers, motherfucker. He was slurring his words, making disgusting promises of what he was gonna do to you when you reached his private penthouse. You were just out of range of his boozehole, the lippy thing trying to steal a taste of you. Wobbly steps slowed you both down to almost a crawl, which was exactly what you were trying to do, anything to give Mando time to find the hotel room first. You passed a discarded cloak on the floor, the familiar silver inlay catching the light, and you worried that you might have pushed your partner too far. What if he left? What if he didn’t see the keycard and I’m heading up alone? Please be there, Din. Please don’t leave me with this fucking creep. You both reached the elevator, and Elios fumbled to find his wallet, thankfully having a spare key that he didn’t know he needed. The doors opened, and you realized you would be stuck in your own personal hell for the entire trip up to the top floor suite. Fucking super.

Elios was getting impatient during the ride up, and it took every fiber of your being to keep from retching as his well-moisturized hands ran up and down your spine. The elevator door opened directly into the penthouse, and his perfectly manicured claws dug into your ass to usher you into the room. The top floor suite was dark, save for the lights of Canto Bight shining in through the cathedral windows. You took a mental note of the speeder parked out on the balcony, you would be needing it later. The Devaronian was at your ear, breathing hot, boozy steam around your neck until he was facing you. He went to bite at your mouth, but you stopped him with a finger to his lips.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you." You whispered in your most convincing lust-laden voice. The devil chuckled and ran his slimy, forked tongue around the halting digit. Barf.

"Oh yeah, baby cakes? Why’s that?"

You batted your eyelashes and bit your lip into a wry smile before meeting his half-lidded eyes. "Because... you're going to make Daddy very angry."

His lips turned upwards in an aroused sneer, flashing his dazzling, daggerlike teeth, "How could getting a taste of that fiery little mouth’a yours make me angry, darlin’?"

Sinker.

"I'm not talking about you, I'm talking about him."

Elios didn't even have a chance to turn around to see where your eyes were looking before a black and silver fist broke his nose and sent his perfect teeth soaring across the room, throwing him down to the marble floor. Seeing his busted prettyboy face bleeding at your feet made you feel so relieved that a vicious shiver made its way from your head to your toes, and you let your body shake the devil’s touch off of you like a big wet bantha.

"Fuck! Oh fucking hell, Mando, you have -no idea- how hard it was to keep that up, he’s so gross! I’m gonna chuck his ass in carbonite so fucking hard his horns’ll break off!" Your partner was still squared up, just waiting for the interloper to try and get up and fight. He wanted the bounty to get up, flail, scream, any excuse to hit him again. But Blackwater was out cold, staining the white marble floor with his blood.

"You looked like you were handling it."

The deadpan tone of his voice told you that wasn't exactly a compliment, remembering the jealousy that had seethed out of him on Tatooine after that Trandoshan had tried to capture you. You had two choices: you could either try to defend yourself and your unconventional bounty catching method, or you could turn that jealousy in your favor. He didn’t remember much from his toxic encounter with the Ardennian, but you knew that every filthy, possessive thing he had said to you that night was still somewhere in that chrome dome of his; and you became determined to bring them to the light. You crossed one arm over your chest, raising the other to tap a finger against the corner of your lips.

"Oh? You didn't like that, did you? Didn't like that he had his hands on me? Touching things that don’t belong to him?" He didn't answer, but the creaking of leather from his fists tightening told you what you already knew. "Tell me, Mando."

"N-no." His visor remained fixed on the unconscious body still bleeding on the floor. Not good enough.

"No what?"

"No. I didn't like that." His voice was low and raspy, but only because he was trying to keep the boiling rage in his chest from blowing his fucking helmet off.

"Tell me what you didn't like." You stepped over the quarry to your man, running your fingers from his balled fists over his silk and steel arms until you were at his shoulders. You could feel the slightest shudder under all his layers at your touch.

"I didn't like him touching you. Nobody should put their hands on you, cyar'ika" His fists lowered to his sides but his visor was still on the floor. You let your hands wander up his neck to the bejeweled recesses of his helmet and turned him to meet your eyes.

"Why not?"

"B-because..."

"I want to hear you say it."

"Because you are mine." He growled through his helmet so hard that you swore you saw it vibrate, sending a delicious tingle though your spine. Atta boy.

“Again.”

“You are mine!” Even behind the beskar you could hear the clench of his teeth biting back deeper desires. His hands went to your waist, pulling you tightly to his chest. The fire coming off of him was scalding, you had pushed your luck too far with this one, and you could feel the volcano inside his ribcage boiling over. He was furious. His heavy armored head pushed against your brow, and you let your thumbs wrap around the bottom of his helmet to find the thinnest sliver of skin where the metal met the man.

“That’s right, I’m all yours.” When you had said that line to him the first time, you had been plotting your escape from his clutches, but as the reassuring words left your lips you knew there was nobody else in the galaxy you would have running their hands up your sides; and you mentally crossed ‘seduction’ off of your list of hunting skills for good. His oath of me'dinuir had swore him to your side alone, and now you knew without a shred of doubt that you wanted it to go both ways; whether you were Mandalorian or not.

You kissed at the bottom of his visor, so close to getting to feel the true, living flesh of him, and yet so far. You had to have him, you had to purge the demon’s touch from your body with the purifying fire of your protector’s rage. A choked, needy groan made its way out of the modulator, and you felt the heat of his breath on your skin. How desperately you wanted to taste it, fill your mouth with the flavor of him to replace the vile spotchka. You pushed up on his jaw, giving you just a tiny glance at his scruffy chin, and you forced your kisses into the tight, unyielding space of the beskar prison. It wasn’t enough for you, but it was a start, and you could feel his body starting to unwind at your touch. “Kiss me. Please, Mando.”

“Cyar'ika, it's not safe here.” He hated the sound of his own words, the denial of them crushing his very soul. You glanced around the dark penthouse and saw you were alone save for the crumpled devil on the floor and the designer purse that had been stashed in the corner of the room, its occupant still working on the bags of cookies. No eyes on us.

“I won’t look, just... lift your helmet a tiny bit, tin man, I need you, I need to kiss you.” You guessed you were safe enough from prying eyes, but you wouldn’t spill his name to the night just in case there were any sneaky listeners. You squeezed your own eyes shut and nipped at the armors edge again, and just ever-so-slightly began to push up on the unforgiving metal with your thumbs. You were just waiting for his hands to shoot up, to grab your wrists and halt your actions, but they were locked to your sides. Inch by inch you gradually lifted the armor, he would have all the time in the world to stop you, but when you felt the heat of his lips crash against yours you almost let your knees buckle out from under you. His strong arms were tight on your back, pulling you into him so he could kiss you harder.

So much better than spotchka. He was delicious, his taste, his feel, his scent, everything about him was intoxicating. So much more so than the despicable brew you had been throwing back all night, and a thousand times better than anything Elios could have offered. Blech. You realized then why the bounty had smelled so bad to you, though his perfume was expensive and his clothes freshly pressed, he was wrong for you. The wrongness was so overwhelming that it had nearly made you lose your drink, and you didn’t realize how wrong something could be until you tried to compare it to what was right. Din was right, he smelled of leather and beskar and the sweat of a man that had nearly combusted when someone else was at your side. And fresher soap! Thank the Maker.

A soft leather hand went to your head, pulling you into him so he could taste you better. His tongue ran over your lips, darting into you to find yours so they could dance together. You bit him playfully, and the way his breath hitched in his throat sent the fire of your core shooting all the way to your fingertips; and you knew right then that not even kissing his forbidden face would be enough for you. You pulled yourself from his lips, the snap of teeth following your retreat, reluctant to let you leave from the heat of the moment. Carefully, you let the beskar slide back down to cover him, and the anguished whine he let out into the night air almost broke your heart.

“I know, I know, I’m so mean to you, aren’t I?” With him covered you glanced around the room until you saw the private bar. With your thumbs hooked in the pockets of his borrowed vest you guided the two of you towards it until the granite countertop knocked against your ass. You used his shoulders for leverage, hopping up onto the cold surface and wrapping your knees round his waist, happy to find exactly what you were expecting to throbbing between your legs. He pushed himself against you, the feel of his stolen silks on your holstered thighs giving you goosebumps. His heavy metal head fell against your shoulder, and you wrapped your arms around him to hold him close while he ground up against your heat. He couldn’t contain himself around you, though you wouldn’t want him to if he could. You rocked your hips in time with his needy thrusts, and the growls in your ear almost made you think he would come undone with his pants still on. Can’t have that now, can we? "Mando, please fuck me, I can't wait anymore."

You heard thunder rumble out of his chest, sending electricity from where he was pressed to your shoulder straight down to where he was pulsing against your core. He was going to bring you the stars, alright, but not the ones in the night sky. He pulled back so he could look into your eyes from behind his visor, bringing a hand up to caress your pleading face.

"No, I don't want to fuck you." Your eyes shot wide, shocked that he wouldn't want you when he was rutting so hard into you that you could almost feel the dampness of precum through his layers. He saw your face and shook his head. "Elios wanted to fuck you, all of those creeps at the bar wanted to fuck you.” His helmet shook, trying to loosen the words he wanted to say. “No... I- I want to be better than them, I want to give you something else, s-something more.” He was struggling, his inexperience making it difficult to say what was on his mind. All he knew was that he didn’t want to be like them, he wanted to be worthy of you in ways they never could.

“Then make love to me instead.”

“Yes!” The words leaving your lips were like music to his ears, so much more lovely than any song. “I want to do that! I want to make love to you, cyar’ika, if you’ll have me?”

You laughed, nodding your head to hide your bright red cheeks. How he managed to be so ferocious and so sweet on the same day was a mystery you didn’t want to solve. He quickly glanced around the room one more time just to be sure you were alone, the light of the gilded city sending streaks of color over the charms you had pressed to his cheeks. Satisfied that you were the only ones awake in the room, he leaned away from you to rip the constricting blazer off of himself so hard the fabric around his chest and shoulders started to tear. Beskar plates twinkled in the limelight, sending stars flying around the room while he worked his pants open. The sight of him springing into view made your heart flutter, among other things. Long and strong, a pearl of precum glimmering in the dark of the penthouse. His hands went to your legs, the leather of his palms snagging on the straps still belted to your thighs as he pushed the elegant fabric of your dress up to your waist.

“You’re soaked.” You wished you could see what he saw through his visor, the sound of hitched breath telling you he could see you blooming for him clear as day, drinking you in with his hidden eyes. He hooked a thumb in the wet fabric of your panties to pull them out of the way, using his other hand to grip his cock and run the tip over your entrance, bumping against your clit while he lubed himself with your slick. You had to lean back until you were laying on the cold granite countertop, tilting your hips to the edge of the bar so he could see all of you on display. He pressed himself up and in, filling you slowly so he could indulge in every inch that disappeared inside. Your stretched walls clenched around him, making him shiver with each coiled squeeze. The Mandalorian you were giving yourself to pulled himself out of you carefully before thrusting back into you again, fighting every animalistic urge to just plow you into the bar. He was going to make good on his word, he wasn’t going to just fuck you.

But maybe he should have.

“Bing!”

The penthouse elevator door chimed, and both of you pointed blasters on the figure that walked out from the pink haze of the lift into the dark of the room. “Elios? I know you’re up here, I’m just going to get- Oh. There you are.” The stranger spotted the crumpled, unconscious body on the floor, crossing the room until they stood over him. “About time someone split that beautiful lip of yours, Lee-lo.” The stranger that Mando had run into on the casino floor turned their tired eyes to the pair of you, noticing your obvious state of passion. “Oh please, don’t stop on my account, that’s not the worst thing I’ve walked into up here.” They squinted in the dark, then gasped softly, “Wait, it’s you! Oh good! I saw you when you were dancing and was just heartbroken when Lee-lo came between you.” The tall stranger did a little dance. “Fucking Elios.” They kicked at the Devaronian on the floor, “All he lives for is breaking hearts. I’m glad you two made up.”

The wisp of a stranger bent down to the motionless figure on the floor, yanking one of the gold rings from his horns. They said something too low for you to hear, then got up and left in another cloud of pink smoke, the elevator door closing behind them.

You both lowered your blasters, trying to wrap your collective heads around what had just happened. Mando was still buried to the hilt inside you, and you could feel him pulsing with need; but he had been right from the beginning. You weren’t safe here.

“That’s probably not the only spare key. We should go.” You whispered, trying to get your blaster back to its holster under your dress. He groaned, he was getting sick of being torn away from you. He pulled himself almost all the way out, thrust in one more time for good luck, and released himself with a pop! He pulled you to your feet, helping you down from the bar and onto the Maker-forsaken boots you still had on. Fuck these. You ripped the boots off, chucking them somewhere into the dark and crossed the room barefoot to where the oversized purse held the foundling. You were happy to see him all tuckered out in a pile of cookie wrappers, probably not the healthiest thing for him, but it worked. Behind you, your armored companion was hauling the quarry over his shoulder none too gently, ‘accidentally’ knocking his bloody head against the wall as he turned back to you. You both made for the balcony door to the speeder you had noticed earlier, tossing the bounty in the back seat like a bag of garbage.

The ride back to the Crest was thick with anticipation, you weren't finished with each other just yet. Mando pulled the speeder right up to the ramp so you wouldn’t have to walk across sharp gravel, chucking the bounty in after you so hard he slid through the messy cabin and smashed into the wall. You slung the damned devil into the carbonite chamber, punching the freeze button with gusto. The ramp closed behind your armored companion, barely giving you a chance to get up onto the hoverskiff that still dominated the cabin floor before the lights went off. You yanked the dress over your head, listening for the sound of more fabric hitting the floor, then the clanking of beskar being tossed carelessly aside. Belts and snaps and zippers went flying, and you had to try not to laugh at the absurd amount of clothes he had to take off. The skiff tilted with new weight, and the body of a Mandalorian was on top of you, warm lips hunting for yours.

He’s naked! Every piece of armor and shred of clothing was gone, and the feel of bare skin against your body was electrifying. His mouth crashed against yours, fervent kisses desperate to taste you again. You let your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him into you to kiss back. He was hungry for you, biting at your mouth and tongue like a man starved. Plush lips made their way from your mouth down your neck, nipping at your throat and sucking the tender skin until you had bruises to match the ones on your thighs. His hands wandered down your body, rubbing at your breast and teasing your nipples until you were gasping for more. The devious digits moved on until his hand was between your legs, pushing at your folds and finding your clit to spin circles on. He was becoming an expert at finding what made you squirm and whine from his touch, rolling callused fingertips into you until you were making a delicious mess on the pile of stolen silk.

But he wasn’t done there. The fuzzy kisses went from your breast down your belly to where his fingers were working into you. He pulled his hands from your soaked cunt and replaced them with his face, pushing his tongue up against the tiny ball of nerves that had so much power over you. Short, quick circles between long, languid licks had you arching your back and pulling his hair, demanding more. Lost in the heat of your thighs he was happy to give you everything, pushing the smooth muscle of his mouth into your slit and upwards against your clit until you were seeing stars again.

Your hands couldn’t stop exploring him, from his thick head of curls to the strength of his shoulders. The muscles kept going, tight coils on his back and the warm, rigid wall of his chest. The trail of fuzz on his belly went up farther than you were expecting it to, and the fine hairs tickled your fingers on almost every inch of his skin. Your hands trailed over the numerous, vicious scars that marred his flesh like a road map of every near-death experience he had lived through. Gashes on his arms and burns on his sides had healed over into smooth, textureless skin, the marks of a seasoned hunter that nobody but their barer had ever seen.

Having drank his fill, he pulled his face from the apex of your thighs, pushing your knees apart and quickly sheathing himself in you with a ragged groan. Mando’a praises poured from his lips, some you were familiar but many you weren’t, though all of them made your heart flutter. Strong hands wrapped around your knees to keep you in place on the wobbly sled while he pounded into you, the feeling of bare skin on the backs of your legs making you wish you could see him in the light. But the darkness was the greatest keeper of secrets, hiding your love making from the condemnation of his creed.

Make love. Though the phrase was just another on the long list of euphemisms used for sex, the pair of words weighed heavy with meaning in their new context. You wanted to explore the concept the way your hands explored his body, but the fire of your core was thrumming with heat, demanding your undivided attention. Din fell forward to your chest, the sweat of his efforts sticking to your breasts. Wandering kisses sent fire over your skin as he made his way over your peaks, sucking hard on their tender buds. Beskar-strong hips rocked against yours until you saw fireworks again, bearing down so hard on him with your orgasm that he sank his teeth into the crook of your shoulder. Bites made their way from where he had surely drawn blood on your flesh up your neck til they turned to kisses again. His brow pushed against your forehead, though your lips were right there he still defaulted to the only show of affection his armored inheritance allowed. Hot gasps of air puffed over your skin from the heat of his breath, and you knew he was close. You locked your legs around him, forcing him to pump every last drop of himself into you, painting your walls with his seed until it was spilling down your ass onto the piles of clothes.

The strength of his arms gave up, and he let himself fall against you, his face pushed against your cheek. You could feel his bristles brushing over your skin as his breath heaved, soft but scratchy. His hands wrapped under you and up your back, hugging you to his bare chest so hard the air was squeezed from your lungs. Fuzzy-lipped kisses dotted your cheeks and face, taking extra time to kiss your lips, each one a promise of more to come. You dragged your nails over his back, making him groan and shake at the touch. Never had anyone to scratch that itch, have you, tinman? Tight muscles loosened under your careful touch, making him sink harder onto you until you couldn’t tell where he ended and you began.

You wanted to stay there forever, but as the sweat on your bodies cooled it became sticky and made pulling yourselves apart a chore. Both of you reluctantly made your way off of the skiff, clinging to the walls of the cabin while he hunted for his helmet in the dark. Lights came on gradually once his bucket was back in place so you could find your own clothes, and when you had both gotten yourselves put back together you piled everything you had stolen onto the hoverskiff and pushed it back down the ramp of the Crest. The Mandalorian was back in his beskar, and he cocked his vambrace back and shot a wall of fire onto the little sled, incinerating all evidence of your thievery and passion. The bonfire burned brightly on the gravelly beach of the Cantonican ocean, sending flaming ash into the light of the new dawn.

You decided to keep the red pocket square that you had tucked in on his costume, though you weren't sure what you would need it for again. Sentimental. You went to the supply crates where your backpack and droid mask were kept so you could squirrel the thing away, when you caught the familiar glowing blue of spotchka at the bottom of the larder. The horrible color made you fucking nauseous after today, but even more distressing was that you realized it was just sitting there unsecured when there was an impish child onboard that could easily get into the bottled brew and make himself sick, or worse.

“Din, we need to put this somewhere safer.” You held the liquid lantern up for him to see what you were talking about. “What if our foundling gets into it? He might get really sick or-”

“Our?”

Shit. “Sorry, your foundling. Your foundling might get-” Din crossed the small space of the cabin until he was standing close to you, the child in question tucked against his chest. The baby’s big, nebulous eyes glittered up at you, and you couldn’t help reaching out to rub his sail-like ears. He chirped happily at your touch, and as much as you wanted to keep your eyes on him, his father was towering over you, making you squirm under his tilted glare.

“Say that again.”

“Your foundling.”

“No. The other word.”

“Our?”

“All of it.”

“Our foundling?” His helmet cocked to the other side, doing his big metal bird impression. The arm that wasn’t holding the child pulled you up against his chest, squeezed right against the baby in question. The familiar galaxy-erasing hug made you realize how many times you had thought of the child as your own, he was your little buddy, your missing baby when he had been stolen away, your secret weapon that you had hidden in your purse. But he wasn’t your child, he was Din’s, so for him to also be considered as yours…

“Ours.” Above you the word was spoken like it was new, as strange on his tongue as Mando’a was to you. “Our foundling. I like that.”

You couldn’t turn your head up to look at the man who had you wrapped against himself so tightly, but you could smile at the green little child that was flashing you his adorable toothy grin. You little fart, you thought with a laugh, you’re gonna make me go all soft. Almost as though the creature could hear your thoughts he squealed in delight, patting your cheeks with his fat baby paws. You let your arms circle around the boys that had made your life a roller coaster of emotion blasting through the endless sea of stars. It might be a hell of a ride, but you weren't ready to get off any time soon. The memory of the sands of Tatooine where you had been trying to forget the dangers of the universe was starting to fade away, replaced by the moment you were losing yourself in. You were happy to see it go, though your past self would be shocked at how comfortable you had gotten with a magic alien baby and a man with no face.

“Yeah… I like it too.” You hummed into the beskar, feeling Din’s arms tighten even more. You were glad he couldn’t see your face, because the lovely smile had vanished. This is all going to end soon. You buried your face in the tiny space between the foundling and his father’s armor, trying to ignore where the coaster’s rails ended. Only one stop left.

Nevarro, here we come.

<-Previous Next->

TAG LIST

@mandoinevarro

@mrsparknuts

@cookiejuicedesu

@kaermorons

@ironbabey

@theflightytemptressadventure

@emesispo

@what-iwish-youknew

@misscamptl

@t3a-bag

@poppunkdee

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

130 notes · View notes

jungshookz · 5 years

Note

ok but like what if jungkook and y/n are at a hockey match and a kiss cam lands on them but they're both strangers

➺ pairing: jeon jungkook x reader

➺ genre: biRTHDAY-themed fluff that is so utterly sweet you will undoubtedly get like ten cavities after reading this; tae demolished a whole serving of cheesy fries and he’s not feeling so good mr stark; namjoon & y/n bond over the fact that they just don’t get hockey

➺ wordcount: 4.6k

➺ note: happy birthday to the man that not only owns my heart but also my whOLE ass!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! oh my goD i love him!!!!!!!!!!!! u ruin my life but also make it ten times better!!!!!!!!

(gif isn’t mine!)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

“remind me again why jimin couldn’t come with you instead?” you scowl when someone bumps into you from behind and you instinctively reach down to pull your purse to your front

…what??

you haven’t cashed in your latest paycheque and you don’t want anyone steaLing your hard-earned money

you stumble into tae’s back when someone knocks into you again

you would think that people would have the common decency to be a little more polite but no

this is so not your scene

plus you saw an army of ants feasting on the carcass of a cockroach in the washroom and you immediately hightailed it ouT of there

your bladder is just going to have to wait til you return to safety of your own toilet

tae told you he’d be happy to chug down a gallon of soda and give you the cup to pee in and you nearly considered it because that would probably be cleaner than the washrooms here

“because- yeah, two forks, please - because he had some dumb work thing that he couldn’t skip out on and i wasn’t going to waste my front row tickets!” tae scoffs as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world

well

that’s fair, you suppose

“you really couldn’t invite anybody else? i was your next choice?” you cling to the back of tae’s jersey because everyone keeps shoving into you and you feel like you’re going to be carriEd away by a hoard of sweaty hockey fans if you don’t hold on to something

you don’t mean to sound ungrateful because it is really nice of taehyung to have invited you to this apparently suPer big-deal of a hockey game (you’re pretty sure the fans here would rip each other apart to get their hands on a front row ticket) but like ?///???

you aren’t exactly a super enthusiastic sports person

sure, you’ll watch a couple matches if it’s on the tv while you’re cleaning up your apartment or if you just need some noise in the apartment but it’s not something that you actively seek out to watch

if anything you’re 100% more likely to watch spongebob squarepants over a sports game

you just don’t see the appeal of watching grown men (anD women! ur a feminist! girls are great!) gliding around on ice clickity-clacking a tiny puck here and there with wooden sticks while very aggressively shOving into each other at the same time

also the names of the hockey teams are always so dumb

you could probably come up with a better hockey team name because all you have to do is pick an adjective and then pick an animal

the screaming giraffes

the wailing whales

the condescending toads

you would pay good money to watch a match between the screaming giraffes and the wailing whales

you’re not sure if the condescending toads would make a good name now that you think about it

“aw, c’mon! it’s not like you had any other plans, anyways.” tae raises a brow at you and you immediately scoff

he has a good point.,.,., but stiLL

“i totally had plans!”

“ordering a party sized serving of chicken alfredo and garlic bread and watching netflix doesn’t count as plans.”

…okay anoTHer good point

the seats that you guys got are actually pretty good

you’re located right in the middle so you get an equal view of the goal on the right and the goal on the left

it’s not like you’re going to be paying attention to the game but still

very nice!

“can you believe we only had to pay $5 for all of this?” tae laughs lightly in disbelief as he rubs his hands together and looks down at the foot-long hot dog sitting on his lap

“…it should be concerning that we got all of this for $5.” you mutter under your breath and stare down at the plastic-looking cheese smothered over the fries

you told tae not to go overboard with the food but of course he didn’t listen to you which is why you guys are sharing a foot-long chilli cheese dog anD an extra large order of chilli cheese fries and a slurpee served in a literal bucket

usually you’d be down to inhale all of this but uh

you don’t want to sound snooty or anything but you saw one of the employees accidentally drop an entire bag of cheese into the pot before quickly fishing it out with their bare hands and you’re pretty sure that’s a health code violation

you mentioned it to tae and he said it wasn’t a big deal and- well, he’s already starting to scarf down the hot dog

side note

these fries are actually really good

you stab a few more of them with your fork before shovIng the biteful into your mouth and gently dabbing some cheese sauce off your chin with your napkin

just because you’re starving doesn’t mean all your manners are going to fly out the damn window

you didn’t eat breakfast this morning so this is a great first meal

“vou know what fhe beft part iv of sitting in the front?” tae asks through a faT mouthful of hot dog and you immediately wince in respond

men are disgusting

“what?” you reach over to wipe tae’s mouth with a napkin because both his hands are occupied by the almost offensively large hotdog

he swallows his bite before licking some chilli from the corner of his mouth

again

men are disgusting

“sometimes the hockey players get sLammed right up against the protective shield right in front of us.” tae gestures to the clear plastic panels separating the crowd from the rink “and if you’re really lucky, you get to see someone lose a tooth or something!”

you immediately make a face

“wha- how is that-“

“jungkook, over here! i found our seats!” you glance over for a second when someone quite literally scReams out loud for their friend

and then you’re turning to face tae again

“as i was saying,” you pause for a brief second when tae reaches over to take the fries from you, “how the hell is that the best part about sitting in the fr-“

you jump in surprise when what feels like a whole handful of popcorn suddenly scatters down on your head and onto your lap

oh coMe ON

you just washed your hair this morning!!!!!

the crumbs are going to look like you have veRy bad dandruff

also this is heavily buTTERED popcorn which means that the grease stains on your jeans are probably going to be there for the rest of your life

and these jeans were expeNSIVE

>:-(

this hockey game is not a very fun experience so far

“oh shit, sorry!”

“it’s all good, it’s all good…” you mutter as you flick a kernel of popcorn off your shoulder

yep

there’s a speck of grease on your sweater

greAt

“just be careful with that drink of yours because i-“ you look up to-

o-oh

oh god

oh god the popcorn guy is cute

and not just cute

he’s like.,,. he’s suPER CUTE

round brown eyes

obscenely perfectly tousled black hair

he definitely looks to be around your age which is a big fat bonus

although that colour-block hoodie of his is making him look a lot younger you still think it’s safe to say he’s probably around your age

“sorry, miss… the plastic lids here are flimsy as hell and mine keeps popping off so you can’t blame me if i get you wet!” the guy flashes you a boyish smile and you feel your mouth go dry

oh dear lord

have mercy

“hey- you want extra chilli on your half of the hot dog?” you’re rudely poPped out of your little bubble when taehyung suddenly elbows your side

“wh- what? what?” you tear your eyes away from the handsome stranger who’s making himself comfortable in the seat right next to you before clearing your throat and looking over at tae

“extra chilli!” tae chirps and raises your half of the hot dog up a little

he already finished his half which isn’t a huge surprise

to be honest he was going to just go ahead and finish the hot dog but he figured it’d be nice to at least offer you a bite

“-i even asked for an extra little container of chopped up onions because i know you like-“

“no!” you blurt out and whack the container of onions out of tae’s hand causing it to smAck against the plastic divider before clattering to the ground

the two of you blink down at it

tae purses his lips before subtly kicking as much of it as possible under his seat

“i, um, i’m actually not that hungry. you can finish the hot dog.” you clear your throat again before unscrewing the lid of your bottle of water and taking a tentative, ladylike sip

“…what are you talking about? you were going to town on those cheesy fries like five seconds ago- oW-“

“jungkook, over here! i found our seats!” jungkook perks up when he sees namjoon waving him over

there he is!

he was starting to get worried that namjoon wandered off somewhere or somehow locked himself in the supply closet or something

namjoon put him in charge of snack duty and he went aLL out

popcorn? check!

roasted peanuts? double check!

blue-flavoured slurpee? triple check!

he actually ended up getting two drinks because namjoon likes to bite the straw and jungkook doesn’t want to share a drink with a straw-biter

“here, i’ll take the peanuts and my drink-“ namjoon plucks the paper bag and the plastic cup cradled in jungkook’s arms before he steps aside to let him squeeze into the aisle

namjoon actually won these hockey game tickets from a raffle at work and jungkook almost exploded with joy when he invited him to come and watch it with him

it was actually pretty perfect timing because the game just so happened to land on jungkook’s birthday

namjoon gave jungkook the best birthday present and he didn’t even have to spend a dime

:’)

“s’cuse me, sorry-“ jungkook weasels his way in between the aisles and carefully steps over people’s legs as he makes his way to his seat exciTEdly

he’s never been to a live sports game before!!!

and he’s definitely never been in the froNt row of anything before!!!!

two birds with one fAt stone!

also he-

“oh shit, sorry!” he gasps when he accidentally tips his carton of popcorn a little bit causing it to land all over the stranger seated next to his spot

shiT

there goes half his popcorn

he’s not going to go back up to the concessionary stand to get more popcorn because the game is about to start and the line is probably still half a mile long

“it’s all good, it’s all good…” jungkook winces to himself and feels his cheeks heat up a little as he watches you brush the popcorn to the ground

yikes

he’s about to sit down when suddenly you speak up again “just be careful with that drink of yours because i-“

jungkook feels his heart skip a beat when you look up at him

oh wowie you’re pretty

…he just spilt his greasy popcorn all over a very pretty girl

double yikes

it’s fine

just play it cool

he can play it cool

“sorry…” jungkook raises his cup a little “the plastic lids here are flimsy as hell and mine keeps popping off so you can’t blame me if i get you wet!”

he immediately pales as soon as that tumbles out of his mouth

wha-

what the HELL was that?!?!?!

out of all the things he could’ve said

his three and a half brain cells came up with thAT

you can’t blame me if i get you wet???????

you probably think he’s some kind of weird peRVERT now

luckily your boyfriend starts talking to y-

huh

you have a boyfriend

of course you have a boyfriend

jungkook lets out a little huff before plopping down on the plastic seat

whatever >:-(

namjoon leans over and glances into the popcorn bag before frowning

damnit

he just wanted some popcorn

:-(

“holy shiT, did you see that backhand????” tae practically screeches as he reaches over and slaps your arm aggressively “y/n, did you see it????”

“i saw- i sAW it, i saw it!” you scowl and smack his hands away from you

“oh my god, that was legEndary-“

you can barely hear tae’s enthusiastic blabbering because all you can hear is the sound of skates shrEdding up the ice and the sound of the puck being whacked back and forth and also cheers and whOops from all of these diehard fans

you honestly have no idea what the hell is going on right now

all you know is that the two teams are tied right now and everYone’s getting frustrated

you’re not sure which team you should be rooting for so you’re just basing it off of which uniform you like better

in other words, you’re cheering on the pUrpLe team!

also no one’s been smacked up against the plastic divider yet which is a huge relief because you’re not sure if you want to see anyone lose any teeth today

“will you cut it out?? your future girlfriend probably isn’t going to appreciate it if you’re practically beating her up-“

jungkook perks up immediately when he hears that come out of your mouth

so that guy isn’t your boyfriend!

nice!!!!!

that means he still has a chance even though he dumped like a pound of popcorn on you and almost drenched you in his blue-flavoured slurpee

also he didn’t mean to eavesdrop

it’s just hard noT to eavesdrop when you’re sitting right next to him

he’s been paying attention to the game because duH but also he keeps thinking about how cute u look when you have a mouthful of french fries

also

now he knows that your name is y/n which is actually pretty fitting

you look like a y/n

it’s cute!

on an unrelated note

u smell rly nice but he can’t quite put his finger on what that particular scent is

jungkook’s nose twitches

“what do you mean the game isn’t over yet??” you groan and plop yourself back down in the seat “there was an intermission like half an hour ago!!!”

“there are two intermissions, you whiney baby!” tae scowls

you need to chill

you’re acting like watching a hockey game is equivalent to getting your teeth pulled out

you’re being a bABy

if he can sit through hours and houRS of your reality tv shows you can sit through one hockey game

“so…” namjoon pauses for a second “the game… isn’t over?”

“nope! there’s one more round.” jungkook chirps and shovels a handful of popcorn into his mouth

“oh.” namjoon slumps back in his seat a little

he thought the game was over

to be honest he was ready to leave before the first intermission but jungkook looked like he was having the time of his life so he decided to wait it out

“so what are we supposed to do now?” namjoon furrows his brows “do they just expect us to wait and do nothing?”

“well, no, they’re doing that thing where-“ jungkook immediately chokes when he suddenly sees his face on the jumbotron

and unsurprisingly

your face is also on the jumbotron

“y/n-“

“hold on, i’m about to beat my high score-“ your tongue pokes out in concentration as you focus on your very intense session of tetris

“y/n-“ tae hisses and punches your arm

“ow!” you whine and rub your sore arm

tae’s been hitting you for the duration of the whole game and you’re pretty sure your arm is about to fall off

he needs to cut it out

he knoWs you bruise like a pEACH

“-what did i tell you about hitting me???” you put your phone down and turn to glare at tae

“you’re on the- look!!!!” tae points to the front and-

you immediately pale when you realise that yes, that is most definitely your face on the jumbotron right now, and yes, you and jungkook, the very handsome stranger that you definitely already have a crush on, are currently trapped inside of a big pinK heart with the words ‘KISS CAM’ floating on top of the heart

oh god

you can’t kiss him

you still taste like cheesy fries

and your lips are chapped

and your tongue is stained blue from the slurpee

you can’T KISS HIM

and also he’s a literal stranger but most importantly you are not in the right state to be kisSEd right NOW

“oh, no-“ you shake your head quickly before making a slicing gesture over your neck “we’re not- we’re not together!”

jungkook glances at you for a brief second and he can sEe the panic in your eyes

okay

he was down to kiss you but obviously you don’t feel the same way which is totally understandable but stiLL

oh well

he might as well join in on the protesting

“right, yeah- we don’t know each other!” jungkook shakes his hand at the camera and you flash a sheepish smile at the camera before shrugging

the crowd immediately erupts into boos and you immediately scoff before turning to face the people behind you

“excuse-” you gawk when someone has the audacity to thrOW a handful of popcorn down at you guys “-excuse you!”

you turn back to face the camera and shake your head before holding your arms up and crossing one over the other

“sorry! we’re not going to kiss!!!!!!!!”

you shoot a glare in tae’s direction when he joins in on the booing

sometimes you don’t know why you’re friends with him because he’s literally suCH a moRON

“seriously, we’re not- oh, okay-“ you let out a breath of relief when the camera moves away from the two of you

you immediately slump back in your seat

phEW

that was a close call

if ur going to kiss jungkook it’s going to be because he wantS to kiss you and noT because he’s being forCed to kiss you

“sorry about that…” he turns to look at you and you immediately perk up

“no, you have nothing to apologise for! don’t sweat it.” you laugh lightly and shake your head before digging through your purse for a stick of gum

your breath still tastes like cheesy fries and it’s not very pleasant

“i, uh, i’m jungkook, by the way.” jungkook sticks his hand out for you to shake

he’s… introducing himself to you

…does that mean… he might be… interested in you…?

much to think about

you take his hand gently before offering him a shy smile “i’m y/n.”

“and i’m taehyung!” tae leans over and shoots jungkook a boxy smile “i would shake your hand but my fingers are still sticky with cheese.”

your eyes flutter shut and you pinch the bridge of your nose

kim taehyung is the absolute bane of ur existence

“it’s nice to meet you guys. uh, this is-“ jungkook glances over his shoulder “this is namjoon!”

“hey, hi.” namjoon smiles politely and nods to the both of you in acknowledgement “are you guys big hockey fans?”

“i’m not, but tae is-“ you laugh lightly and namjoon’s eyes liGht up

“i’m not that big of a fan either! i honestly don’t really get it!“

“right??” you gasp in excitement because now you have someone you can actually talk to about this stuff “what’s the big deal with a group of grown men gliding around and-“

“i know!! also i always lose track of where the puck is-“

taehyung and jungkook lean back slightly to give each other the same looks of ‘do you hear what i’m hearing right now?’

“i don’t see what the point is of having two intermissions-“ you nearly jump ten feet into the air when the crowd suddenly buRsts into cheers and for a second you think it’s because the game is resuming

but nO

because take a WILD guess as to whose faces are up on the jumbotron aGAIN

“wha- are you people serious?!” you gawk as you stare at yourself at the screen

…is that really what you look like?

you look weirder when you’re up on the big screen for some reason

you don’t get a chance to dwell on the fact that people can probably see your pores from how HD the camera is because the next thing you know, the crowd is beginning to chant

“kiss! kiss! kiss! kiss!”

jungkook lets out a nervous laugh and shakes his head before reaching up to pluck at the silver hoop hanging from his ear (it’s a nervous hAbit and he is very vERY nervous right now) “sorry, we’re not going to!”

“kiSS! kiSS! kiSS! kiSS!”

“you heard the guy!” you gesture over to jungkook “we’re not doing it, you pERverts!”

it seems like the audience couldn’t give leSS of a shit because every time you and jungkook say that you two aren’T going to kiss they become more riled up

even taehyung and namjoon have joined in on the chanting

namjoon can’t help but snort when jungkook turns to look at him with briGht red cheeks

if ya can’t beat em join em!!!

“we’re going to be here all day! just move on!”

“KISS!”

“we’re not going to kiss!!!!!!!”

“KISS!”

“we don’t even know each other!”

“KISS!”

“my lips are suPer chapped!”

“KISS!”

“take a hint!”

“oh for the love of god-“ jungkook’s eyes nearly pop out of his head when you’re suddenly grabbing him by the collar of his hoodie and pulling him towards you and-

his heart stops in his chest when you press your lips against his and he immediately freezes

o god

you’re kissing him

you’re kiSsing HIM

you pull away far too soon for jungkook’s liking (it was obviously only meant to be a peck) and jungkook blinks owlishly

wha-

is that it?????

that’s all????

you are riPPING him off

“there, we kissed! are you freAKS happ-“ before you get a chance to get all smug with the camera jungkook’s yanking you back and smearing his lips over yours

the crowd now eRUPTS into cheers and screams and namjoon is literally screeching his head off next to jungkook

taehyung isn’t doing any better

he threw his half-eaten hot dog up into the aIR

and for a brief second jungkook thinks you’re going to freak out and pull away but he’s more than pleasantly surprised when you begin to kiss him back

also he figured out what u smell like and why he likes it so much

it’s because you smell like his favourite fabric softener

and if that’s not a sign that you’re basically perFect for him then he doesn’t know what is!!!!

jungkook reaches up to cup your cheek gently while your fingers curl around the nape of his neck

needless to say

you are vERy much making out with a stranger right now (your mom would probably flip if she found out) but you most definitely don’t give a hECK because jungkook’s lips are so soft and he tastes like buttery popcorn

the tiniest of whimpers slips past your lips when jungkook teases you with small brushes of his tongue against yours

he tilts his head slightly to deepen the kiss and all of a sudden you feel lightheaded and your entire body feels like jello

he’s such a good kisser that you nearly forget the fact that the two of you are making out in front of like 20,000 people right now

a smirk twitches at the corner of jungkook’s mouth when he pulls away and you immediately respond with a whine

it started off with you getting him all flustered but obviously the tables have turned because you are just putty in his hands and he knows it

“jungkook…” you sigh breathlessly as he nudges his nose against yours

oH boy

your soul definitely left your body

you’re still floating on cloud nine

meanwhile the crowd is still compLETELY losing it because they were just expecting a little pek and not THIS

“yeah?” jungkook takes his bottom lip in between his teeth as he resists the urge to lean in and kiss you again

“i think this means you have to take me out on a date now.”

“…i think you might be right.”

best

birthday

ever

:-)

help me help you make your wishes come tru (aka send me a request)

drabble masterlist // main masterlist

2K notes · View notes

myanimeforlife-blog · 3 years

Text

Sad Anime That Will Make You Cry – Sad Anime Recommendations

Is it accurate to say that you are searching for a lamentable anime that will make you cry? Alright, look no further, our Top Best Sad Depressing Anime Suggestions will cause you to sob and to feel for the characters. These accounts are solid, with lamentably tragic scenes and passionate minutes.

As sad anime can cause you to holler your eyes out, such anime sort is scandalous, so for what reason do we watch them? For what reason do makers of anime love to make their fans cry? Also, why would that be a ton of miserable anime out there?

Anime designers appreciate seeing their fans cry. There have all the earmarks of being a lot of anime made exclusively to cause us to wail our eyes out. Anime has discovered innumerable approaches to break our hearts and make us cry, from the sincere shows of high school love, lonely emotions, and relationship dramatization to the more reasonable stories that talk about subjects like demise, war, and sickness.

Sad anime encourages us to have a decent cry whenever we want to cry, yet pitiful anime additionally causes us to see one another and even advantage from one another without truly feeling any of those miserable minutes or allowing them to understand that they are in good company in whatever damnation they are in.

Here is an accumulation of surveys in no request for a rating of an extremely miserable, awful, and dismal anime.

1. Chrono Crusade

Chrono campaign

Studios: Gonzo

Scenes: 24

Circulated: Fall 2003

Chrono Crusade is a great, tragic anime arrangement with clever, profound, and fascinating characters.

The Americas in the Roaring 20s. Not too far off, after the carnage of the Great War, it is a confident, prosperous second. In any case, prowling in the dimness is a dull factor prepared to remove the harmony. Sister Rosette Christopher, an exorcist functioning as a feature of the Magdala Order, must fight the fallen angels that come and exact obliteration. However, she normally ends up causing more harm than the actual devils, alongside her companion Chrno! On a particular task, they meet with a young lady with a beautiful voice named Azmaria, whom her stepfather focused on. Rosette is as yet looking for her sibling, whom an evil presence has detracted from her.

Chrono Crusade is known for making the group shout for activity, satire, and sentiment. It's a concealed pearl that begins gradually, yet you'll be dependent after you watch the initial 3 scenes.

2. Violet Evergarden

Violet Evergarden

Studios: Kyoto Animation

Scenes: 13

Broadcasted: Winter 2018

Violet Evergarden is a profound and amazing anime, even though there are a few cases that will surely help the tissues hit you. Numerous individuals refer to this anime as being one of only a handful, not many that at last left them demolished.

The chief character, Violet Evergarden, was raised principally to be a weapon for use against enemies. Yet, as the war concluded, after mending from her injuries, she needed to locate another explanation behind her life. She is beginning to work as an Auto Memory Doll, a job that assists with changing the feelings of individuals into words on paper.

3. Plastic Memories

Plastic Memories

Studios: Doga Kobo

Scenes: 13

Circulated: Spring 2015

One of those arrangements that offer you a supporting portion of authenticity and the way that nothing endures forever is Plastic Memories. The show's entire thought is around the presence of androids who are practically hard to recognize from real individuals.

The greatest qualification, in any case, is that they have an exceptionally little, restricted life expectancy. They will get by for pretty much nine years and no more. With one of these androids, the hero begins to look all starry-eyed even though we need to observe him comprehend that his experience with her is running out.

4. I Want To Eat Your Pancreas

I Want To Eat Your Pancreas

Studios: Studio VOLN

Scenes: Movie

Circulated: Summer 2018

It may resemble an ecchi or a zombie awfulness anime by the name however it's an adoration show successful in making you cry basins pressing. I want to eat your pancreas.

At some point, in the medical clinic, a secondary school young lady, seen a book. The title was "The Journal of Coexistence Disease." This was a journal written stealthily by her student, Sakura Yamauchi. Inside, her days have been checked due to her pancreatic malignant growth. It resembled she got pulled into her. However, the universe uncovered a youngster with a similarly brutal truth experiencing an ailment.

5. Nana

Nana anime

Studios: Madhouse

Scenes: 47

Circulated: Spring 2006

Nana is a shoujo sappy sentiment anime with great music and something lovely that allows you to celebrate on it for certain characters and feel a few episodes similarly as strongly as the actual characters inwardly.

Nana "Hachi" Komatsu wishes that she will get to Tokyo and put behind her impulsive love life. In the realm of rock and move, Nana Osaki, who shows up nearby simultaneously, has plans to score high. While these two young ladies come from different foundations, in a tornado universe of sex, culture, style, dramatization, and throughout the late evening celebrating, they quickly become best mates!

Nana is a pitiful anime that shows how individuals hold their things and how it is a human defect. You will shout, sob, and find Nana's two-section solid relationship. It gives numerous life exercises, its tests and its blunders, we don't need to do.

6. Clannad: After Story

Clannad After Story

Studios: Kyoto Animation

Scenes: 24

Circulated: Fall 2008

Clannad: After Story is splendid about how it portrays life, the significance of family, and the intricacies of adulthood.

The anime variation of the realistic novel of a similar name is Clannad. It's conceivable that this is the most well-known miserable anime. The anime comprises of two seasons: the 23 scenes long Clannad, the 24 scenes long Clannad: After Story, and its boundlessly more discouraging development. Albeit the principal half arrangements with secondary school show, chiefly kinships, and dating, the subsequent part is a significantly more extraordinary and effective glance at grown-up issues (with an accentuation on the significance of family).

The continuation of the widely praised cut-of-life arrangement Clannad, Clannad: After Story, begins after Tomoya Okazaki and Nagisa Furukawa move on from secondary school. They feel the psychological rollercoaster of growing up around one another. Tomoya, unfit to settle on a way for his future, perceives the significance of a decent hard-working attitude and understands the force of consolation from Nagisa. They push ahead to face their passionate issues, reinforce their former connections, and fabricate new ties through the couple's responsibility and solidarity of aim.

7. Grave of the Fireflies

Grave of the Fireflies

Studios: Studio Ghibli

Scenes: Movie

Circulated: Spring 1988

Perhaps the most deplorable film you could at any point see is Grave of the Fireflies. The film, set in the most recent days of the Second World War, recounts the narrative of a kid named Seita and his more youthful sister, Setsuko, whose lives were annihilated by the brutal and savage war that left them without guardians and homes.

Left in the Japanese wide open to battle for themselves, the young any expectation of the kin is stunning even with unfaltering difficulty, giving them the fortitude to keep on getting away from an inescapable fate. Grave of the Fireflies is a film that is strongly miserable, profoundly sentimental, and capably moving that can leave nobody apathetic.

8. Anohana: The Flower We Saw That Day

Anohana The Flower We Saw That Day

Studios: A-1 Pictures

Scenes: 11

Broadcasted: Spring 2011

Need to cry explicitly for each scene? Might you want to obtain the stunning ability to sob on interest after hearing a tune's first notes? We have you covered if your answer is yes. Anohana: The Flower We Saw That Day is A-1 Pictures unique anime that debuted in the spring of 2011. This anime of eleven scenes tell the story of a gathering of companions, presently grown-ups, battling to adapt to the passing of their beloved companion Menma, who kicked the bucket when they all were extremely youthful.

The gathering of companions had self-destructed a long time since Menma's passing, yet the apparition of their tragically missing friend may simply be sufficient to arrange them once more. The gathering is brought together so Menma can really make her desire and proceed onward, while simultaneously offering her companions the solace they need to push ahead without her. All through the plot, surprisingly terms with their inability to adapt and overcome their sensations of regret, we perceive what Menma's demise meant for every one of her mates. Anohana is a tragic, passionate experience that you certainly don't have any desire to miss.

9. Your Lie in April

Your Lie in April

Studios: A-1 Pictures

Scenes: 22

Broadcasted: Fall 2014

The fall 2014 Anime, from A-1 Pictures, Your Lie April is joined by a well-known kid performer, who after his mom's demise, lost the capacity to hear the sound of his piano. After two years, Kousei experiences Kaori Miyazono, a dynamic violin player who causes him to comprehend that music can be played normally, and not in the inflexible, formal way that his mom instructed him.

The anime tends to Kousei's recuperation story when he finds that music is something beyond playing each note (and becomes hopelessly enamored with Kaori). Shockingly, Kaori's happiness just masks the inescapable catastrophe, similar to the clear shading range of the anime. Your Lie in April is a staggering and contacting story that investigates mental injury, overcomings misfortune, and advancement. This anime is without a doubt going to make somebody shed a few tears.

10. Orange

Orange anime

Studios: Telecom Animation Film

Scenes: 13

Broadcasted: Summer 2016

As far as I might be concerned, Orange was a roller seaside enthusiastic ride. Feelings are things that rouse us and figure out what choices we take and how our lives end. Orange is an arrangement that investigates how emotions will change our course.

A letter from ten years is sent one day to Takamiya Naho. At the point when Naho peruses, the letter says the specific day's occasions, including the exchange to the class of another understudy, Naruse Kakeru. after 10 years, Naho says continually that she has a few second thoughts, and she needs to fix them by guaranteeing that the Naho from the past will decide effectively – especially comparable to Kakeru. Seriously astonishing that Kakeru will presently don't be with them ten years after the fact. Naho needs all her nearby eye on him.

Top 10 Sad Anime That Will Make You Cry – Sad Anime List — Click To Watch the video!

#Sad Anime

5 notes · View notes

lindoig7 · 4 years

Text

Tuesday-Friday, 25-28 August

Tuesday

We awoke carrying a few aches and pains from yesterday’s exertions, so we relaxed over some very simple killer Sudokus – we finished our previous book yesterday so started a new one today and the first few are VERY simple.

It was still raining on and off – more off than on – so we stayed in the van virtually all day. We sorted and edited photos and wrote for our blogs all morning and watched a movie in the afternoon – Legends of the Fall. It was quite good, if a little depressing.

After I cooked a more than acceptable steak and added it to Heather’s veges brilliantly cooked inside, we ate dinner and then played dominos while waiting for the HWS to heat enough water to do the dishes. We usually turn the HWS off during the day to save gas (and the noise the heater makes) and had forgotten to turn it back on in the late afternoon.

We then started a new series of DVDs – just the first episode of True Detective. It is too early to tell if we will like it, but it is set in the US. For some reason, I thought it was set in the UK when we bought the series a couple of weeks ago.

Wednesday

We were still a bit fragile this morning so had another easy morning in the van. We had intended doing the laundry, but opted instead for a quiet morning catching up on a few items of business, looking at photos and relaxing. It was mostly sunny but still felt cold so we ran our heater almost all day again.

During the afternoon, we went for a pleasant drive before hitting the supermarket and booze shop again. We mostly shop at Woolies, but I needed beer and have become quite partial to a cheapie made specifically for Liquorland. It is called Steamrail Pale Ale and given my penchant for the romance, noise and smells of steam trains (and the fact that I drove one about 30 km as an 11- or 12-year-old kid), it seems appropriate to add the taste of Steam(rail) to my list of pleasures. We shopped at Coles, but they didn’t have everything we wanted and Liquorland didn’t have Heather’s favourite cider, so we finished the groceries at Woolies and the booze at BWS after all.

Our drive was originally planned for Noojee, but we saw a turnoff to the Tarago Reservoir and detoured to that. It was a delightful drive, especially the last couple of clicks to the reservoir itself – big trees, winding track through pastures, quaint farms and outbuildings – very cute. We had a short walk around the sprawling picnic area (where all forms of picnics or social gatherings are absolutely forbidden) but access to the dam and its water is securely fenced off. Instead of returning to the main road and Noojee, we continued on the Tarago road through picturesque Jindivik and meandered via lesser roads back to Warragul.

Thursday

It looks like being fine most of today, but with a wickedly wild, wild wind. It is howling around, rattling the whole caravan and battering the awning even though it is in the lee of the van. A great day to get the washing dry and it was definitely laundry day for us – but Heather used the dryer in the laundry and everything was dry in the time it would have taken to peg things on the line (and retrieve the things that would inevitably have blown away!).

I had a few little maintenance things to do, including trying to secure the awning a little more rigidly. As I said, the wind has been quite ferocious here today, particularly in the afternoon, and the whole caravan is constantly buffeted and bombarded with the shriek of the wind and the crashing of the awning.

We went out for a walk in the afternoon, just a kilometre or two around the circuit behind the van, but it was quite hard work heading into the teeth of the gale. It is a few days since we did the loop out there and it is amazing how much difference such a short time makes. There are many more flowers out (mainly our beloved Flinder-bells, aka onion weed) but so many trees and shrubs are now in bud, the willows are covered with long trailing green ribbons, all looking very lacy and delicate, and even the scrawny little stick just outside the van is developing its mantle of beautiful white blossom. We hadn’t noticed any of this before, but it seemed quite obvious today that the season is definitely changing – even if the weather still shows little hint if spring (other than its traditional winds).

It is getting very hard to post anything to my blog at present. The Wi-Fi in the park is very weak and frustrating. I can get very slow access most days until about lunchtime, but still with lots of delays and drop-outs. After lunch, I can never access it at all. I managed to post a few things today by transferring some text and photos from my PC to a Sandisk USB stick, then using Bluetooth to drop that into my iPad Camera Roll, and composing and posting that to my blog using my tethered iPhone as a hotspot. It’s a slow and laborious process with too many steps and stages where I can get things wrong. The Tumblr app is by no means intuitive – and is a bit different on either my iPhone or iPad – so the whole process is fraught! I will just have to keep persevering – or get up early enough to post things from my PC in the morning.

We went down to the ablution block for our showers just before 5 pm with some mountainous livid clouds threatening – and it is a good job we never left it any later. Heather got back in time, but I had gone down a few minutes after her and had to jog back to the van in the first of some sprinkles foreboding a very heavy downpour that hit just as I reached the awning. Another 30 seconds and I would have had two showers for the day.

Within an hour, all Hell broke loose. The wind went absolutely wild. It shrieked through the adjacent trees and the awning on the van next to us was reduced to a twisted pile of scrap within minutes. Ours disconnected from its struts a couple of times but we went out quickly and rescued it before any damage occurred. We could hardly hear each other for the noise, and the poor screeching Corellas and Galahs in the trees were being blown off their perches. The rain bucketed down and the lights flickered on and off for several minutes. If any of the trees behind the van had fallen our way, the van would have been completely crushed. Fortunately, the prevailing winds all pass our van on their way to the trees. It was all very exciting, if more than a little disconcerting. It rained/poured on and off until about midnight or a bit after, but the wind kept lashing the van until about 5 am. Next morning there were numerous branches down around the park, but the extent of the damage elsewhere became obvious during our excursion later in the day.

I have experienced some amazing winds in caravans. I recall many (many) years ago, I was in an onsite van in Busselton (Western Australia) which is not so far from the Cape Leeuwin weather station and we heard that the anemometer wound off its stanchion at about 190 kph. We awoke to 20 cm of water throughout the park, but being so sandy, it was all gone within a couple of hours. Much more recently, we were at Camperdown in our previous little van and it was so wild that I had to park the car across the van to shield it from the worst of it as well as chocking the wheels and tying it down. And at Tibooburra a few years ago, we were the only van in the park and drove out to Cameron Corner for the day without any inkling of an impending storm – but came back in the afternoon to find all the components of the awning distributed around the park. Fortunately, nothing was broken and we were able to reconstruct it well enough to continue on our way. We sat out a wild cyclone in the Kuril Islands a few years ago and Heather drew attention to another exciting storm event the first time we approached Inexpressible Island in Antarctica (NEITHER of these were in our caravan) but I still think Thursday’s little puff was about as violent as I can remember – perhaps because we were so close to the trees and the cacophony they generated.

Despite the drama of the storm, Heather made the most wonderful meal using our new double-sided frying pan/mini-oven. We had bought a boned leg of lamb and she marinated it for almost a day with a great concoction of herbs and spices (in lots of yoghurt). Cooking it in the pan with lots of chopped onion resulted in the most amazing rich, caramellised, delicious feast you could imagine. It really was fantastic and we have enjoyed the leftovers in 3 meals since. Superb!!!

Friday

A really great day today. We headed south to the coast, but you should have seen the trees on the way that had been brought down overnight. We saw maybe 20 or so giants and hundreds of smaller trees as well as thousands of branches, twigs and metres of bark stripped from the vegetation. We had to drive around dozens of branches and small trees on the road, but the really big ones blocking the whole road were already being removed. Council and SES crews were hard at work, along with local farmers who were cutting up the logs and repairing broken fences and other damage. I don’t suppose this was hugely unusual for them, but for (sort of) city slickers to see so many mammoth trees that had been guarding the road for centuries laying on the ground with their roots splayed to the heavens was pretty amazing. It reminded us how lucky we were not to have been in the way of the giants that could have demolished our caravan had we been in the path of one.

We went down through Korumburra and Leongatha to Tarwin South and hence to Tarwin Meadows – only to find that it was private property and we almost ended up in their front yard. We back-tracked and followed a lovely quiet road to the Cape Liptrap Lighthouse. It was a wonderful short walk to the light-tower itself and we enjoyed some magnificent views and saw some lovely little birds (and some quite a bit bigger). The coast was still pretty wild after the storm but we kept ourselves safe, well away from the fury, at the top of the cliffs. We had a bit of fun playing the calls of the Brown Thornbills on our birding app. There were quite a few around and several came out to say good mornig to us as well. Don’t usually do this, but we were trying to confirm their identity using the app and next moment they were reacting with us.

We followed the coast as close as we could and ate our lunch at Walkerville North whilst watching the sea-birds (and a dog harassing them) before going on to Waratah Bay. We walked along the beach and saw millions of tiny sand-balls created by the little crabs that had burrowed down while the tide was out. There were quite a few pretty shells, all broken, and hundreds of small smooth stones of almost every colour and pattern. The beach was very flat and very wide, at least 150 metres wide I reckon, but the tide was coming in and although we watched it for a while, I guess the entire beach would have been reclaimed by King Neptune within half an hour or so.

We tried to get to Shallow Inlet but were again thwarted by the National Park closure. We had tried to get in from the east a week or so ago without success and coming from the west didn’t make it any more doable. It simply doesn’t make sense to close so many parks and reserves because of Covid. Every National and State park is locked up for no conceivable reason. They would be the safest places around! Sure, Melbourne people aren’t allowed to travel, but there is much more freedom throughout the rest of the State but government/s have chosen to punish the rest of the country despite there being absolutely zero risk. Many of the rules are simply moronic. There is no possible policy reason for them and the only other interpretation I can put on this stupidity is that the rules are set with only vindictiveness in mind.

We were able to go to nearby Sandy Point - and when we reached the end of the road, we simply drove straight onto the beach. We weren’t the only car on the beach and it was obvious from the many tyre tracks that driving on the beach was normal. We drove half a kilometre or so along to where there was a sign indicating that driving beyond that point was not allowed, but it was a bit of fun and enabled up to get some good views of the shore-birds. We saw about 15 Eastern Curlews – not that common in our experience – and a couple of hundred Red-capped Plovers – a lot more than all I have seen in my lifetime. It was a great opportunity for a few photos and a bit of a novelty to drive on the hard-packed sand. The whole area was wonderfully quiet and peaceful and quite beautiful!

We dilly-dallied there for a while and then drove home via Meeniyan, Mirboo North and Trafalgar with the last leg in particular being through really beautiful country.

1 note · View note

ashesandhalefire · 5 years

Text

we had it (almost)

michael guerin x alex manes canon compliant pre-1.09

---

As a rule, Michael tries to avoid injecting himself into the business of the town beyond the property limits of Sander’s Auto, the Wild Pony, or Foster Ranch. If he can’t earn himself a paycheck, get a stiff drink, or find somewhere quiet to hide out during the long hours of insufferably lonely nights, he figures he shouldn’t let the problems of Roswell weigh on his shoulders.

That’s been his policy for over a decade, so when he notices a strange light in the window of a closed storefront on his way home, he has every intention of minding his own business. The town’s rising larceny rate is only partially his fault, and he has no responsibility to look after the vagrants he comes across at two in the morning. Leave that to Max and his badge and his hero complex. Michael has a mattress and a pillow and a second bottle of acetone calling his name.

The traffic light turns red at the end of the block, and he drums his fingers as he waits at the empty intersection. Glancing back towards the window is mostly an accident. Honestly, it wouldn’t surprise him to find the old members of Wyatt Long’s high school posse breaking and entering. They have enough money to buy their ways out of whatever trouble they land in, and they’ve been fidgety since Long took a bullet to the leg. They rove like hyenas, slobbering and mangey and stupid. Destruction of property would be very on-brand for them. But when he looks, he doesn’t see anyone in the shadows. It’s a cool, clear night, but the only thing illuminated by the large swaths of moonlight is the marque on the building.

Roswell’s UFO Emporium.

Grant Green’s perpetual construction project has sat untouched in the center of town for just under six years. Town supervisors had been livid when construction began just before the height of tourist season, but Grant had assured them everything would be settled in a few months. Bigger and better, he had promised. At the time, Michael had bitterly hoped an electrical mishap might burn the place to the ground, so he’s more than a little confused when he instinctively pulls into a quick U-turn the second the traffic light turns green again. He parks at the curb and takes a deep breath.

The museum was defunct by the time Grant got his hand on it. Even on its best days, it hadn’t turned much of a profit. It was the kind of place people wandered into when they were looking for a way to escape the triple-digit temperatures, but it hardly received glowing reviews. No doubt Grant planned on using it more as a recruitment center for his delusional followers than anything else. Now, it’s only a matter of time before the town claims the property rights from his estate.

In a few months, after fresh paint goes up over a new layer of drywall and somebody replaces the old incandescent lightbulbs, the museum will open, lazily refurbished as a more lucrative tourist trap. Any damage done by a few trespassers will be patched and forgotten.

Still, Michael idles his truck at the curb.

With a scowl, he reminds himself that sentimentality has gotten him nowhere lately. It got him a couple of decent kisses and a few nights of sex that didn’t end with bloodshed or an acetone binge, but the net gain at the end was heartache and disappointment. He should go home.

He looks over at the building, twisting his hands mercilessly around the steering wheel. The stupid sign still hanging in the window of the ticket booth says “I’ve been abducted! Back in 5.” One of the chains that should be holding the front doors closed dangles uselessly from the metal handle.

Michael swears, ripping the keys out of the ignition, and shoves his way out of the car.

The UFO museum never inspired warm and fuzzy feelings. Most of the exhibits were grossly inaccurate, and the display descriptions all took on alarmist tones that made planet-wide invasions sound inevitable. He still gets a particularly troubling feeling in his stomach when he thinks about the room with the interactive dissection display. The dummy was six feet long and bright neon-green with three fingers on each hand and a head shaped like a spade, but the way its foam flesh had been peeled away from its chest cavity still sends shivers down his spine when he thinks about it. Children, two at a time, had been allowed to reach inside and squeeze the fake organs, coating their hands with green blood the consistency of papier-mâché paste. The first time he saw it, on a middle school field trip, he had run to the bathroom to throw up. Isobel told everyone it was because he ate too many chicken fingers at lunch, and one of Kyle Valenti’s friends joked that foster kids always got too excited about free meals.

But there was one day—one hour—when it was his favorite place in the world.

Tucked away in the back room with hands on his face and his shoulders and his back, he had felt potential stretch out infinitely in every direction. There was a whole summer to plan, and it wasn’t difficult to imagine sitting in the alleyway behind the building to share sandwiches on lunch breaks or loitering in the empty exhibits on slow days or riding out into the desert after closing and taking time to pick out fake constellations in the real stars. For the first time, his future wasn’t about escape.

The room is probably an empty shell of damaged drywall and scratched floors now, all the exhibits taken out and moved to Grant’s warehouse, and the energy of that afternoon had burned out and died by nightfall of the same day. Potential scattered in the breeze like ash. Everything changed. Still, the idea of Wyatt Long’s drunken friends littering the place with beer cans and pissing in the corners to cure their boredom makes his jaw twitch. The museum doesn’t belong to them.

When he slips inside, everything is darker and quieter than he expected. There’s no sign of anybody having been in the deconstructed lobby, and an eerie silence seems to inhabit the rest of the building. Drunken vandals wouldn’t be nearly so stealthy, and that should be enough to satisfy him, give him leave to turn around and go home, but the curiosity wins out. Somebody wanted to get inside badly enough to risk standing on the street to pick the chain lock. The only thing Michael thinks might be worth stealing in here is the copper wiring, which would require breaking open the walls, and that wouldn’t be this quiet either.

Listening for any signs of movement, Michael creeps forward, working his way between the forgotten sawhorses, and checks the room on the right that used to be the gift shop. A faint bit of moonlight streams through the front corner of the window where the newspaper has peeled back with age, and he runs a fingertip over the dusty glass countertop. It used to be filled with poorly-designed plush and cheap plastic necklaces with almond-shaped heads on them. Now, it’s just empty glass cabinetry waiting to be demolished.

He should be glad to see the kitsch go, but he isn’t. It leaves him feeling unsettled.

The old manager’s office on the other side of the foyer is undisturbed in its abandonment, and Michael drums his fingers lightly against the wall as he makes his way deeper into the building. The first exhibit room is completely empty, and it’s swallowed in shadows without the light from the front windows. He presses forward, gently nudging obstacles out of the way with a jerk of his chin. The second and third rooms are crammed tight with piles of garbage that was never removed, and he tries to ignore the way that gnaws at him. He works his way past the broken drywall and splintered two-by-fours, careful to avoid the exposed nails and razor-sharp remnants of display cases, and then a soft click echoes from through a doorway on the left. A soft glow from inside guides him the rest of the way across the room.

When he peers around the corner, two thoughts occur simultaneously: it isn’t who he was expecting, and it never would have been anyone else.

“Remind me again which one of us is supposed to be the criminal,” Michael says after a deep breath, and it’s a little satisfying to watch Alex startle. His crutch hits the side of an overturned spackle bucket, sending it skittering loudly across the floor, and he winces at how the sound echoes in the empty room. Alex has his own phone sitting face-down on a crate, and the flashlight splashes a dull circle of light onto the ceiling.

When the stillness settles over them again, Michael cross his arms and leans against the wall. The acetone he slipped into his drinks at the bar has officially worn off, which means the ache in his hand will return soon. It’s a constant, dull pain. With enough acetone in his system, it fades to the background like the hum of the electric wires or Grant Green’s alien podcasts, Roswell’s special brand of white noise. Eyes raking over Alex’s rumpled sweatpants and half-zipped hoodie, he thinks he feels the beginnings of twinges radiating from his wrist down into his pinky.

Finally, Alex licks his lips and asks, “What are you doing here?”

“Really?” Michael raises an eyebrow. “I’m the one who just caught you breaking and entering.”

Lifting his chin defiantly, Alex squares his shoulders. “Well, unless somebody gave you a key, you’re breaking and entering, too.”

“You did all the breaking,” Michael says with a shrug. “I just entered.”

“That’s still trespassing.” Cocking his head, Alex says, “You do know that criminal records aren’t bingo cards, right? There’s no prize for filling in all the rows.”

Alex’s new mean streak is a delicious twist on his high school sarcasm, and Michael leans into it without meaning to. He likes when Alex pulls his hair, too. “Actually,” he says, “I’m in the process of executing a citizen’s arrest, so I think the sheriff’s department will let this one slide.”

“Doubtful.”

Michael clicks his tongue. “I have an in with one of the deputies.”

“I hope you don’t mean Max.”

“God, no,” Michael scoffs. “He’d be first in line with the handcuffs.”

That earns him a small lift at the corner of Alex’s mouth, and some of the stiffness in his spine eases away. Michael feels his own shoulders relax. Every interaction with Alex has been wrought with tension, and he wants desperately for this night to not end in a fight.

“Aren’t you staying out of town these days?”

Shuffling around an overfilled trash can, Alex works his way forward.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he admits with a shrug. He flexes his grip around the handle on his crutch and averts his eyes. The shadows on his face sit heavily beneath his eyes, and Michael frowns.

“Most people would try warm milk first,” he says. “Or Ambien. Trespassing doesn’t usually make the list of top five insomnia remedies.”

“Then consider it my last resort.”

With an indelicate hop, Alex hefts himself up onto the crate in the middle of the room and settles his crutch between his knees. His cell phone sits behind him, plunging him into pure silhouette, and Michael steps farther into the room. Purple Heart Airman Alex Manes is not the kind of man to drive across town in the middle of the night in order to break into a construction site. But this isn’t just any construction site.

“Why would you want to come here?” Michael asks. Alex stares silently at his hands, and Michael taps the toe of his boot against a stack of two-by-fours. “It’s not exactly—”

“Don’t play dumb,” Alex interrupts, looking up sharply. “I’m not in the mood. You know why I would come here.”

It hangs heavily between them.

Alex had been swift and decisive when he ended things at the drive-in, leaving no room for interpretation. But it also hadn’t been the first time he walked away, so Michael can’t be entirely surprised to be stumbling into the middle of his late-night backslide. The pattern repeats again, a twisted version of an unhappy ending that hurts more than never having him in the first place.

With a huff, he hops up onto the crate beside Alex. It groans beneath their combined weights but holds firm, and he claps his hands down on his knees.

“Look around, Alex. Everything that made this place what it was? It’s long gone,” Michael says. The wall to the left is where the model UFO hung, backlit by a wall of twinkling little lights. It’s half-torn out sheetrock now. “Whatever you’re looking for, it’s not here. Not anymore.”

Alex shakes his head. “That’s not how it works. This place doesn’t just stop being important—” He breaks off, tapping his crutch against the ground. Michael watches him swallow. “Never mind. You obviously don’t— forget it.”

Scoffing, Michael leans back and looks at the ceiling. The only reason he even walked through the front door was because of some desperate need to protect the memories living in the walls. But he never loved the cheesy UFO museum. In the years since Alex left town, he never felt himself drawn back to the building itself. Even before Grant took the exhibits out, Michael never felt there was anything inside for him. It’s strange that now, when Alex is finally on the same continent—in the same town, in the same room—he felt drawn to it. Or maybe it isn’t strange at all.

“I try not to think about that day,” Michael says. It’s a truth and a lie at the same time, and it’s much bigger than a secret kiss or a shattered hand. At first, everything had bled together for him. He couldn’t think about the cave without thinking about the toolshed without thinking about the museum. When he closed his eyes, he saw burning cars and the curve of Alex’s naked hip and his own blood all at the same time. But his mind has worked miracles compartmentalizing that day. Certain parts have never left him. Others are best forgotten.

Alex spins his crutch in his hands and says, “I think about that day all the time.”

“I’ll bet. I hear PTSD is a bitch.”

“Actually, it was one of the best days of my life.”

Michael scoffs. “Shit, Alex. That’s not saying much for your life.”

“Don’t do that.” Alex frowns.

“Do what?”

“Don’t minimize it.” Wringing his hands, Alex keeps his eyes fixed on his lap. “I’m not stupid, alright? We only had a few hours, and I’m not delusional enough to think— I know what it was. But you have no idea what it meant to me.” His voice wavers, and Michael feels frozen on the spot. The ten lost years have reduced them to unfamiliar strangers, and sometimes it feels like they don’t even speak the same language anymore. They hadn’t needed to say much to each other for things to things to fall into place the first time. It hasn’t been nearly as easy on their second—third, fourth, fifth, he loses count—try.

Alex takes a deep breath and turns away, offering the rest of his confession to the empty room.

“You were mine when I didn’t have anything else. And I know— I know how it ended. I know what it cost you. But you’ll never understand what it meant to me to have you for as long as I did.”

Heart in his throat, Michael stares at the darkened silhouette of Alex’s profile.

A few weeks ago, he stood in front of Alex and laid himself bare entirely by accident. I never look away. Not really. Alex had seemed surprised and then pleasantly flustered, but Michael had assumed it was because of how much time had passed. Ten years is a long time for a heart to stay alone someplace, just waiting to carry on, but Alex had admitted to it first. Alex had reopened the door.

But he doesn’t sound like a man who understands how pathetically Michael has wanted him.

With Max’s voice still whispering in his ear, Michael bites back, You still have me.

It isn’t the sort of promise that can be a comfort to Alex now. Michael isn’t really what he wants anymore, isn’t what he remembers having. He isn’t that boy from the back of the truck that just wanted a safe place to sleep. Or maybe, somewhere deep down, he still has it in him to be that soft, but he’s built up a layer of callous and scar tissue on the outside that makes him unrecognizable.

I can’t be with a criminal, Alex had said, and he hadn’t even known the half of it.

Max was right when he said that they couldn’t be with the people they love. And still, he’s angry at Alex for the way he’s been hurt, and it makes him feel like an idiot. He hates that the two contradictory truths can live inside him so easily. Like a trap getting angry at a bear for being wary, he resents Alex for running away while hating himself for being undeserving of keeping him.

It says a lot about Michael that his greatest regret is not letting Alex kiss him the first time he tried.

Alex takes a shuddering breath suddenly, head ducked low, and rubs a hand against the back of his neck. He seems embarrassed, curling in on himself like it can erase his admission. Leaning closer, Michael bumps their shoulders together to stop his retreat.

“You know,” he says, “you and me getting together was kind of, like, the most romantic thing that’s ever happened in this town.”

“Fuck off.”

“I’m serious,” Michael insists when he catches the bitterness in Alex’s tone. He isn’t trying to tease him, and he doesn’t want Alex to think he doesn’t appreciate the weight of what happened between them. “It was like a movie.”

“Are you incapable of sincerity, or do you just enjoy being an asshole?”

“I don’t know. Do you enjoy expecting the worst of me?”

Alex kicks his heels against the side of the crate. “We made out under the UFOs for ten minutes, and then you went to wait at The Crashdown until my shift ended. If that’s the most romantic thing that’s ever happened in this town, the population should be dwindling. People should be fleeing.”

“I wanted to wait with you,” Michael reminds him. “You wouldn’t let me into the booth.”

“I was trying to be subtle.”

Michael rolls his eyes. “There was nothing subtle about that eyeliner. Or the nose ring.”

“You didn’t mind.”

“No,” Michael says. “I didn’t.”

Alex turns towards him, still mostly a silhouette, and licks his lips.

“No,” he breathes. “You didn’t.”

A beat passes between them, and Michael’s breath catches in his chest as the realization settles over his shoulders like a heavy blanket. Alex loves him. He’s suddenly surer of it than anything else in his life, and heat rushes to his cheeks. It should be a pleased flush from his racing heart, but his stomach twists with misery as he stares at Alex’s shadowed face. Alex loves him. Alex has always loved him, maybe, for reasons neither of them can fully explain. They could have been happy. If things had just been a little different, they could have been happy.

The light disappears suddenly as Alex’s phone dies.

Michael stares out into the dark to where he knows Alex is, and then he lets his eyes drift shut just long enough to steel himself.

“I guess that’s our cue,” Alex sighs.

“Yeah, I think I’m parked next to a hydrant,” Michael says, clearing his throat as he slips off the crate. He rolls his shoulders, trying to settle the rippling tension radiating down his back, and then holds out a hand to help Alex back to his feet. “Can’t afford another ticket.”

“I thought you had an in with the deputies.” Alex dusts off the back of his jeans and then returns his hand to the crook of Michael’s arm as he adjusts his crutch. Michael figures it’s the steadiest influence he’s has ever had on Alex.

“We both know that was bullshit. Come on. Let’s try to get out of here without killing ourselves.”

Alex fists a hand into the back of Michael’s shirt as they pick their way through the dark, and Michael adjusts himself to the task of subtly moving obstacles out of their way without being able to see what he’s moving. They make it to the first exhibit room, less than a hundred feet from freedom, and then Alex loops his fingers loosely around Michael’s wrist.

“Guerin.”

The word is a whisper against the back of his neck, and the hand slips off his wrist and finds his hip instead. Alex curls his arm around Michael’s waist, and he presses himself forward until the lines of their bodies curve together seamlessly.

This part always comes so easily to them. It’s the rest that gets messy.

Alex nudges his nose against the knob at the base of Michael’s neck, and he splays his hand wide across the middle of Michael’s chest. Body flushing, Michael lets his eyes drift shut as he relaxes against Alex’s warmth. Alex inspires stillness in him that he imagines total peace is meant to feel like, but he knows it’s only the eye of a hurricane. The rest of the storm still rages around them.

“We can’t,” Michael exhales.

Pressing his mouth to the curve of Michael’s shoulder, Alex hums. “Why not?”

There are so many answers, all of them true.

He can imagine the seductive tilt of Alex’s head as he leans forward, and he can imagine the anxious hunch of his shoulders in the morning light as he slinks out of the Airstream before anyone notices where he spent the night. If Michael closes his eyes, he sees sweaty strands of Alex’s hair sticking to his forehead and spread out on a pillowcase as easily as he sees the angry sneer of disgust that will follow Michael laying his secrets bare.

The truth is that Michael is a coward. He won’t survive having and losing Alex again.

“Because I love you.”

Without the light from Alex’s phone, all they are to each other is shapes in the dark.

It’s fitting, considering how lost Michael feels navigating the foreign terrain of an emotion this elusive. Anger is easy. He’s seen enough anger manifested in front of him to know exactly what it is. It’s curled fists and free-flying hands and bared teeth and acidic vitriol that seeks out a person’s soft spots and eats away at the tender flesh until he’s crippled by it. It’s ugly and familiar. But Michael has never been loved. He doesn’t know what it’s supposed to look like. All he knows is that being with Alex makes him feel still. It changes the energy in the air, slows the vibrating chaos inside him, and splits him at his loosely-patched seams when it’s over.

He’s never said those words before.

“I love you,” Michael repeats into the dark, and he reaches down to cover Alex’s hand with his own. His scarred fingers ache as they twine. The bones don’t bend like they should, and most of the strength is gone, but this feels like the last chance he’ll get to hold Alex’s hand. Distantly, it occurs to him that this is also the first time he’s ever held Alex’s hand. “And it’s too easy to think it can still be like it was.”

Alex shuffles forward. “Guerin—”

When Alex finds out, he’ll hate Michael like he deserves.

Michael has never given a damn about the people of Roswell because they never gave a damn about him. A decade in foster care taught him that humans can’t be depended on for anything more than consistent disappointment. He survived just long enough to get himself out, and he did it without help from anybody. Then things went sideways, and then then things turned upside down, and then everything got blown to hell.

He spent the summer after senior year telling himself new truths. He repeated them like a mantra until they were fully incorporated into him. Katie Long was an asshole, just like her brother, and so was Jasmine. Rosa Ortecho was an on-and-off crackhead on a long road to nowhere. If not them on a slab in the morgue, then Isobel, Max, and himself on gurneys in a secret government facility, locked away somewhere nobody would hear them scream.

Reality is too terrible to bear if those aren’t his truths. That day, what he is became inextricably linked to what he did, and it can never be undone. There are no apologies to offer. Besides, it spiraled out towards disaster more horribly than any of them could have ever imagined, so even their apologies wouldn’t have mattered. There’s no forgiveness, no absolution, and he would do it again in a heartbeat, if given the choice. Sometimes that feels like the worst part.

Still, knowing that the people of Roswell would hate him for what he is and what he’s done doesn’t mean much. He’s had years to practice turning his own guilt inside out, and he doubts that public opinion would weigh too heavily on him. The more pressing concern has always been discovery, capture, and the inevitability of experimentation. Fear of being strapped to a table, of hearing Max and Isobel scream through a vivisection, the worst word he ever learned, is a more persuasive motivator than anything else.

But when Alex finds out, he’ll hate Michael like he deserves, and Michael will feel every ounce of it.

That, in itself, is all the evidence he needs to know that he isn’t a good man.

It’s unlikely that their DNA has corrupted them or that they carried murderous instincts halfway across the galaxy, but their hands are soaked in blood from what they did and they will leave fingerprints on everything they touch. Max may have found his way to that conclusion in a heap of self-pitying misery, but Michael hasn’t been able to find a flaw in his logic. Always terrified of being unloved, they have made themselves unlovable.

Alex has suffered plenty at the hands of people pretending to be good men. Michael can’t stomach being just another in a long line of betrayals. If the best Michael can do now is stay away, it should be enough to redeem some small part of him that remembers an Alex who just wanted to be safe.

“It doesn’t have to be what it was,” Alex finally says, voice unbearably soft. “It can be new.”

Michael pulls their hands up to his mouth and presses a kiss to the center of Alex’s palm.

One day, Alex will have to ask himself what it means to be loved by a monster. He will think back on every time that Michael touched him with softness and reverence and wonder what it means that someone so drenched in horror could look at him and want so desperately. If he asked, Michael would tell him that it means he embodies the best of what lesser men want for themselves: bravery, integrity, and an unyielding capacity for kindness. But Alex won’t ask. Instead, he’ll consider every time he walked away and wonder why he came back. He’ll scrub himself raw trying to get rid of an invisible stain. He’ll thank saints he barely believes in for the narrow miss of almost that Michael will cherish for the rest of his life.

“We can’t.”

“Guerin—”

Alex isn’t the type to beg, so Michael is entirely unprepared to feel the grip around his waist tighten in protest. He holds himself shock-still, terrified to hear what Alex will say to change his mind and what he’ll need to say to protect himself from it. But Alex doesn’t say anything else. He just squeezes his fingers around Michael’s gnarled hand and draws a long inhale through his nose.

Then, Alex lets go, and, for the first time, Michael is the one who runs.

#michael x alex #malex #malex fic #me: put it in the main rnm tag for the exposure #dark me: no #so normally i would stress about editing this for another three weeks but 1x09 already jossed it and it would probably be dumb after 1x10 #so here is 4.7k words of a thing i wrote #that i had to repost because this site was being annoying about the ao3 link #my fic

105 notes · View notes

travelvui · 3 years

Text

Best Things to do in Seoul | Seoul Travel Guide

Year after year, Seoul has grown in popularity among travelers thanks to the spreading of K-pop and K-drama. The invasion of Gangnam Style on our radios hurries us up to make a trip to the Land of the Morning Calm.

The most rewarding journeys often require us to immerse ourselves deep in the destination’s culture. If you are planning a trip to Seoul, make sure that you fill your bucket list with activities that touch all the quintessential aspects of the city.

Read on our article to get more ideas for your dream list.

1. GO AROUND THE CITY IN A TOUR BUS

What

Seoul City Tour Bus is a government-run bus system that was launched in 2000 to help visitors get to know Seoul and its many attractions in a less time-consuming way.

The buses depart from the Gwanghwamun Station (Subway Line 5), Exit 6, near Koreana Hotel, every 30 minutes or 1 hour, depending on the routes. There are single-level and double-decker buses for visitors to choose from. These two different kinds of deck-marking buses follow different traveling paths. Ticket holders can get on and off at any stop along their routes.

Headphones are equipped in the buses for sightseers to listen to tour information in English, Korean, Japanese or Chinese. Day and night tours are available.

Why

One of the first things to do when arriving in a new destination is taking in the overall look of it. And these comfortable buses fulfil this need in the fastest and cheapest way. Go with them to get familiar to Seoul and reach many of the city’s main attractions with ease.

This service is perfect for those who do not have the luxury of time to cover a lot of Seoul’s must- sees at a more relaxing pace. Enjoy a whole day of sightseeing for a mere 12,000 won ($10.90) on single-decker or 15,000 won ($13.31) on double-deckers.

Highlights along the routes

The starting point

Gwanghwamun Gate is the main gate of Gyeongbukgung Palace. You can stay and take pictures at this entirely made of concrete gate for free.

Deoksugung Palace is a historical complex located among modern buildings at Seoul’s busiest intersection. It was built during the Joseon Dynasty and officially became a palace in 1611. Enter the palace grounds through the Geumcheon Bridge, the same bridge where the king’s carriage passed each day in ancient times.

National Museum of Korea is one of the largest museums in Asia. It houses Korea’s treasure in history, archaeology, and art. Go inside and see the precious pieces such as the Silla Gold Crown, the Pensive Bodhisattva statue, and the 12th century celadon incense burner.

2. VISIT GYEONGBOKGUNG PALACE

What

Gyeongbokgung Palace is the first and main royal palace of the Joseon Dynasty. Its name means “palace greatly blessed by heaven”.

The palace was built in 1395 at an auspicious site according to geomancy. But it had to face many not-so-peaceful events in its own life. The palace was demolished several times and was left in ruins for centuries. Reconstruction efforts commenced in 1867, forming a huge complex with 330 buildings. It was again destroyed during the Japanese occupation in the early 20th century.

Restoration projects continue to this day in an attempt to completely reconstruct Gyeongbokgung Palace to its former status.

Why

Most locals and visitors would agree that Gyeongbokgung Palace is the most beautiful one among five grand palaces the city has to offer. People come to this royal place for its history and culture as well as the grandiose architecture. Free guided tours are available in English, Japanese, and Chinese.

Visiting the palace is like stepping into the set of a Korean historical drama. The experience is complete with locals wearing traditional costumes. Rent a hanbok (traditional Korean costume) and take a photo that looks straight out of history!

Most notable features of the Gyeongbokgung PalaceThe changing of the Royal Guard is something really interesting to watch. It draws a lively picture in front of our eyes to tell us exactly how thing happened in the past. Each ceremony will have guards in royal costumes, celebrating shift changing with traditional weapons in hands and music by traditional instruments. You have chance to witness it twice a day at 10:00 and 14:00 (except on Tuedays).

Kyeonghoe-ru is one of the National Treasures of Korea. It is the country’s largest pavilion that is supported by 48 stone pillars.

Kyonghoe means “joyful meeting” – an apt name for a spacious pavilion sitting on a lotus pond.

National Folk Museum is the displaying place of over 4,000 historical artifacts that reflect the way of life of Korean people in the old days. The display gives visitors a close look into Korean agricultural lifestyles.

3. GO BACK IN TIME AT BUKCHON HANOK VILLAGE

What

Bukchon Hanok Village is an old village located in the heart of Seoul. This place attracts people with its myriad traditional houses dating back to the Joseon Dynasty, which are called hanok by the locals.

The village once was the residential quarter of nobles and high-ranking officials. This once-upon-a-time prestige living area is still home of Seoulites up to the present. Nowadays, there are hanok that serve as people’s homes; and there are hanok that live their lives as a restaurant, a café, a shop or a museum.

If you want to know how Bukchon Hanok Village positions itself in relation to royal places that it is connected with in some ways, then the answer is: It sits between Gyeongbokgung Palace and Changdeokgung Palace.

Why

Lounging at this long history village gives us the feeling of traveling back in time in a giant time machine. Yes, you have many other fellow travelers there with you to join this thrilling adventure.

It is a chance to step back in time and have a closer look into Seoul of the olden days. Just let yourself get lost in the narrow alleys long enough to soak up all the beautiful things of the hanok, which are uniquely built with tiled roofs and patterned walls.

Bukchon Hanok Village offers a stark contrast to the modern buildings that can be seen from a distance. Photo spots are marked for travelers who want to take the best pictures showing the old houses and the Seoul skyline in the background.

Complete the experience with a cup of coffee at a local café and watch people seeking their own doses of nostalgia.

Visitor information

Admission to the village is free while some museums and workshops in the village collect an entrance fee.Free walking tours are available; they start at Unhyeongung Palace, Anguk Station. Bukchon Hanok Village is a residential area so visitors are advised to keep the noise level as low as possible.

4. HAVE A CITY VIEW AT N SEOUL TOWER

What

N Seoul Tower, widely known as Namsan Seoul Tower, is a major landmark and tourist attraction in Seoul. It is situated on top of Namsan Mountain, at the height of 236.7 metres.

This tower is Korea’s first broadcast tower, transmitting radio and TV signals since 1972. It was opened to the public in 1980, allowing visitors to access the tower’s observation deck and other features.

The landmark was given its new name, N Seoul Tower, to reflect the new modernized look of it. After undergoing renovation, the tower now boasts a digital lighting system that can be redesigned to show lighting art for various events, holidays, and special occasions.

The N Seoul Tower is open the whole year and is accessible by cable car, bus, or private vehicle. The Seoul City Tour Bus also stops at the tower.

Why

No words can describe the breathtaking view of Seoul from the top of the tower. At this Seoul’s highest viewing point, we can enjoy a panoramic view of the city without any obstruction.

Start your thrilling experience from Namsan Orumi, a free outdoor elevator that takes you to the cable car station.

Spend some time at the romantic Roof Terrace and swear your undying love through “love locks” at the garden. It’s just like a scene from a Korean drama!

Must-do things at Namsan Seoul Tower

Get a 360-degree panorama of Seoul at the

Digital Observatory on the third floor of the tower. Watch the LCD display to learn more about Seoul and Namsan Mountain.

Enjoy a romantic dinner at N Grill - This restaurant offers the amazing views of Seoul from any table you choose. Savor the French courses presented by Michelin-star chef, Duncan Robertson.

Learn the once hidden secrets of the broadcast tower at Seoul Tower Plaza. A media art exhibit is constantly on display and many cultural programs are available. Then take a leisurely walk along the walking trail at the terrace.

5. SHOP AT MYEONGDONG SHOPPING DISTRICT

What

Myeongdong is one of the main shopping districts in Seoul. This shopper drawer cares for every need of visitors. People are pleased with its beautiful mix of shopping providers, from department stores, modern malls, international retailers, factory outlets to small street boutiques.

The shopping district features trendy clothes, accessories, shoes, bags, and beauty products.

Among a wide variety of merchandise on offer, Korean cosmetics are the most sought after stuff. All time favorites and new creations are available at its thousands of cosmetic shops and skincare stores. Popular brands like The Face Shop, Missha, Nature Republic and Skin Food all join the show there.

Why

Myeongdong is a one-stop venue for shopping, dining, and entertainment. Mingle with the youthful crowd and absorb the energetic vibe of Seoul through its elegant fashion, delicious food and amusing music.

Myeongdong is the place to go for Korean beauty products, which are the same brands used by Korean stars. Locals would advise you to buy Korean cosmetics only at Myeongdong. The shops are generous with samples and they will give you more if you buy from them.

Non-residents who spend more than 30,000 won ($27.22) at eligible shops (shops displaying Tax-Free logos) can claim a tax refund for their purchases. This rule applies to the whole Korea.

Top things to do in Myeongdong

Of course, shopping is the main activity in Myeongdong. Splurge at designer shops like Louis Vuitton, Bulgari, Ralph Lauren, and Lacoste. Explore department stores such as Lotte, Shinsegae and Noon Square. Collect cosmetic samples at Korean beauty and skincare shops that line the two main streets of Myeongdong.

Gorge on street food In Seoul, the best street food can be found in Myeongdong. Try out local fare like dried squid, fish cakes, and tteokbokki.

If you go in spring or autumn, you might chance upon the Myeongdong Festival. Get crazy in the flurry of activities with parades, music and dance performances.

#blog

0 notes

livinginlandmarketing · 4 years

Link

When it was over, and he had fought through the pain and the vomit and the doubt, he dropped to his knees and hugged his daughter.

He had done it for her, to send her a message that will resonate long after he’s gone.

“If I can do it, you can do it,” Jay Hewitt said with his arms around his 5-year-old at the finish line of his own personal Ironman triathlon. “Thinking about you gave me the strength to keep going.”

He wasn’t talking about the Ironman, in which he had just completed 140.6 miles of life-threatening endurance in 14 hours, 45 minutes. He was talking about life, and overcoming even the most devastating things humanity can throw at you. His daughter’s name is Hero, named for a character in Shakespeare’s “Much Ado About Nothing.”

On that day, dad was the hero.

Hewitt, 39, doesn’t know how many more days he has left to inspire her.

In 2016, doctors discovered a tumor (called an astrocytoma) had wrapped its way around the center of his brain. Two surgeries later, the tumor is back. In constant pain, he is undergoing chemotherapy and radiation treatments. At least he’s finished with the training sessions that lasted seven hours per day.

Doctors have told him he has less than a decade to live. More precisely, they are waiting to see how quickly the tumor grows. The tumor is in a delicate part of the brain called the insula, which is the brain’s emotion center. Doctors say the insula is the part that gives us our personality, makes us feel human.

That is not where you want your brain tumor to be.

“I’ve got no time to lose,” Hewitt said.

Jay Hewitt with his daughter, Hero. (Courtesy of Jay Hewitt)

New direction needed

Hewitt played guitar in a punk band.

He believed the universal young guy philosophy: “Girls are going to like me if I can play guitar,” he said.

His band, The Champions, played original songs like “Jock Off” and “D for Democracy” while Hewitt was at Yucaipa High. They were also responsible for an epic food fight at a pizza parlor.

The food fight was such a big deal, kids brought food from other restaurants. The place was crowded and people were outside pressing their faces against the windows to watch. The drummer in Hewitt’s band yelled “FOOD FIGHT,” and stuff started flying.

“There were burritos in the ceiling fans,” Hewitt said. “Then someone dumped a ranch dressing bucket on the owner’s head. The place was demolished. I had beans in my hair, pizza on my clothes.”

And eventually, he had handcuffs on his wrists.

Hewitt said his younger years were headed in the wrong direction … until “I got that gospel message” at Yucaipa First Baptist Church.

“I got a new group of friends, a new group of mentors,” Hewitt said. And a new direction.

He graduated from Hope University with a degree in biblical studies.

And a girlfriend, Natalie, who would become his wife.

“I let her beat me at air hockey,” he said of their first date.

They were married in 2003. She became an English professor, and he became a youth pastor at Friends Church in Yorba Linda and then the lead pastor. He’s currently the lead pastor at Friends Church in Orange.

Hero was born in 2015.

“‘Much Ado About Nothing’ is a redemption story,” Hewitt said.

Jay Hewitt, a pastor at Friends Church Orange, with his wife Natalie and daughter Hero at their home in Placentia. (Photo by Leonard Ortiz, Orange County Register/SCNG)

‘Live life to the fullest’

Hewitt was walking down a hallway at church when he had his first seizure.

“The energy started at my feet,” he said. “It went to my head.”

He had to sit down. He thought, at first, he had a panic attack. A doctor agreed. He was prescribed anti-anxiety medication.

The next day, he had two more seizures.

There was a mix-up with his first MRI results. He was sent results, but somehow the pictures of his head had been switched with a woman who had images taken of her uterus.

He asked a friend of a friend, who was a neurosurgeon, to take a look when the correct images arrived.

The neurosurgeon called him on a Sunday.

“He was very straightforward,” Hewitt said. “He said, ‘You have a brain tumor.’”

Hewitt, who has always been in such good shape, said he was “shocked” to hear his life was in danger. How delicate was the necessary surgery? Hewitt found the brain surgeon with the best reputation in Orange County – Dr. Christopher Duma in Newport Beach. Duma told him, “I’m not the guy.”

Duma explained there were about five people in the world qualified to remove Hewitt’s tumor. One of those people is Dr. Mitchell Berger at the University of California, San Francisco.

Berger performed the first surgery in September 2017. Then Hewitt’s seizures returned.

The second surgery (in 2018) was a bit more delicate and strange. Hewitt was awake throughout the procedure, talking with Berger as he poked around in his head. Berger decided to zap the area with radiation and chemotherapy.

Even after the second surgery and the chemo, doctors found cancer cells inside Hewitt’s head, inside the insula.

Now they wait. He is not expected to live to see the start of the next decade.

“God can sustain my life for as long as He wants,” Hewitt said. “I want to live life to the fullest as long as I have it.”

Even though Jay Hewitt had been diagnosed with a terminal brain tumor he pursued his dream of competing in an Ironman Triathlon. (Photo by Leonard Ortiz, Orange County Register/SCNG)

‘Perseverance and hope’

As the clock ticks, Hewitt has decided to drop golf. He said he had planned to take up the game, but that plan has been scrapped.

He hopes to go white water rafting in Patagonia and visit Machu Picchu.

He has always like to watch the Ironman on television, so that became his ultimate bucket list test. Could he do the most difficult physical activity while his body was failing?

He started his training in August 2019 with 1 mile on the treadmill. It took him five weeks to work his way up to 2 miles.

His plan was to compete in the official Ironman challenge in Australia. He bought plane tickets for he and his family to visit Port Macquarie, where there is a koala sanctuary, in May.

Thanks to the coronavirus, that Ironman was canceled.

So was the Ironman in Santa Rosa in July.

A documentary film company (Kinetoscope Studios in London) heard about Hewitt’s pursuit and began following him as he tried to finish an Ironman before his body gave out.

“People need to hear about perseverance and hope,” he said.

Hewitt contacted the Ironman administration and they not only sanctioned his run, they sent finish line tape for him to run through.

On Oct. 9, Hewitt started in Newport Beach’s Back Bay with a 2-mile swim. Then he rode a bike to the Queen Mary in Long Beach (twice) and ended at Yorba Linda Regional Park. That’s where he started his marathon run.

His own personal course ended at his house in Placentia.

A friend built him a replica of the Ironman finish line. He had a police escort the final 10 miles.

His body started to give out near the end of the race. The stomach pain was severe. He threw up.

“There was no way I was going to give up,” he said.

His coach, Margaret Hepworth, gave him salt tablets that he kept under his tongue. That seemed to help.

There were about 150 people waiting for him at the finish line.

They had a dinner of pizza and beer waiting. He couldn’t eat.

“I was just trying not to throw up,” Hewitt said.

His wife, Natalie, is happy it’s over.

“I’ve seen his ability to psychologically endure so much,” she said. “He’s a grand-gesture person. Watching him struggle … I can’t help but fast forward to watching him struggle with the end of his life.”

There are no more seven-hour training sessions planned. Hewitt can take an afternoon nap.

“I want to be able to do normal, mundane things,” Natalie said.

And they will. Together. As long as he can.

Friends, family publish book to honor TV writer who died

-on October 25, 2020 at 03:49AM by Keith Sharon

#riversidenews

0 notes

fish-in-the-water-official · 7 years

Text

FISH!!!!!! in the water Episode 3 - Only dead fish go with the flow

Summare under the cut!

There’s a short, mysterious sequence of scenes with a dark figure hiding behind trees and street corners and such, apparently following someone. Their face is hidden. As they sneak inside the fishing school, we can hear the narration by an unknown voice listing the schedule of the protagonists. Then the shadow opens up a locker by picking the lock and starts examining the fishing rods inside.

“2 meters, bamboo, old, anime and baseball stickers… Nostalgic and sappy. This is Friendo-kun’s no doubt. This one is thick and robust, fibreglass, neon colours, wants to look professional but isn’t… 4 meters… Must be Token-chan. Only that punk would use something this distasteful. What about this one? It’s one of the ones they give out for rent… And the line isn’t rolled back properly… This is the newbie’s, but I can’t figure anything out if it’s not his own rod… Shit!”

The figure sneaks around for a while and then disappears.

The scene cuts to Protag-kun, Friendo-kun and Token-chan in Friendo-kun’s room, just chilling out since they’re now Friends™. Token-chan starts asking Protag-kun about what happened with his family and Protag-kun narrates the story about how his father passed away when he was small and he had to move to a big city with his mother and sister. Then he also tells Token-chan about how this motivated him to participate in the competition, to which Token-chan is shocked and goes “NANI?????”. But directly after this, Token-chan’s stomach growls very loudly and her face gets kinda blue in that anime way. Friendo-kun declares that this is an emergency and they have to feed her as soon as possible or she might do crazy stuff.

The three go to the sushi bar and the shadow from previously is waiting for them sitting at the table in the darkest corner, camouflaged with a newspaper and silly hat. We can briefly see his eye as he secretly stares at them. He states that everything is going as predicted; they came at the right hour and sat down at the exact places he was expecting. Token-chan greets the barista loudly as soon as they enter - she’s a regular due to her eating habits. The protagonists sit at the counter. Token-chan orders 2304912031 different kinds of food, Protag-kun gets sashimi and Friendo-kun gets “whatever Protag-kun is having”.

Then, for a moment, Token-chan briefly mentions the competition and asks Protag-kun how he’s planning to practice for it. Smart-kun is in momentary shock and listens up more closely, musing on how he needs even more information. Meanwhile Token-chan talks and laughs very loudly with her mouth full and acts in a generally obnoxious manner to the point of irritating the mystery person to the point of snapping. They stand up and walk up to the three of them, only to reveal themselves.

“You people must be real professionals if you have time to stuff your faces before the competition instead of practicing.”

There’s a full visual of Smart-kun from head to toe with his name written on a small card along with his technique. There’s a closeup of his face as he adjusts his glasses, only to show his emerald green eyes. We can hear a short description by Friendo-kun of who Smart-kun is, how he’s part of a noble family and is very obsessed with analyzing and practicing. Nobody has ever seen him smile. He’s a genius and is respected by everyone.

Smart-kun takes issue with Token-chan’s behaviour and they start bickering to the point of almost starting a bar fight, but Friendo-kun holds her back. Smart-kun then proceeds to ignore both of them, stating that he’s only interested in Protag-kun and the secret of his technique.

“I’ve been watching you. I know everything about you” he says in a soothing voice. Protag-kun is shocked and slightly intimidated.

Then Smart-kun starts interrogating him about his technique, but all Protag-kun can say is that he did it spontaneously. Smart-kun gets angry thinking that he’s just joking and making fun of him. Soon, he gives up on asking about Spontaneous Spirit, turns around and leaves with the phrase:

“Whatever, you’ll never win this competition anyway. The only way to fish is to have control and to calculate your moves in advance. Without that, you’re not worthy of being called a fisherman.”

Token-chan shouts insults at him as he walks away.

In the next scene the three friends are practicing again but Protag-kun can’t get Smart-kun’s remark out of his mind and keeps getting flashbacks about the part where he was called unworthy of being called a fisherman. Friendo-kun notices that there’s something wrong with him because ‘he knows Protag-kun well enough to read his emotions just from his face’. He quickly realizes that it’s about Smart-kun and makes an inspiring monologue about how Smart-kun doesn’t realize Protag-kun’s real potential.

Suddenly, Coach-san shows up with two new chicks he’s flirting with. He addresses Friendo-kun and Token-chan to tell them to clean up inside the school (since he wants to hang out with the ladies). Before they could protest, he starts walking away. Protag-kun instantly wants to go help them but Coach-san orders him to stay because he’s so terrible at fishing that it’s better for him to practice. This demoralizes him even further but he stays nonetheless.

It’s sunset and Protag-kun is still fishing. His depressive thoughts are interrupted by a loud splash somewhere nearby. His reflection on the water surface is disrupted by a harpoon flying at the speed of light and literally impaling three fish before the line is rolled back and the only presence besides him by the lake collects the bleeding animals.

Protag-kun is shocked. The person he sees is the scariest and edgiest man he’s ever come across - Antagonist-kun. He has a black, shiny fishing rod made of carbon fibre, wears leather and has bright red hair and piercing, cold eyes. Besides him is a bucket full of bloody, dead fish. He looks towards Protag-kun for a moment, their eyes meet for a few seconds. Antagonist-kun decides to ignore him.

Protag-kun decides to ask him, in complete shock, if what he’s doing is even within the rules, to which Antagonist-kun replies that it doesn’t concern him and tells him to leave him alone. Protag-kun insists on stopping him in murdering fish like this and Antagonist-kun get so annoyed after a while that he declares that he’ll stop if Protag-kun can defeat him in a fish-off as a joke. Protag-kun challenges him seriously claiming that he wants to show the other how to fish properly within the rules.

The duel beings and Protag-kun is about to be demolished miserably. Antagonist-kun’s moves are impossible to follow. The two had previously posed 5 fish caught as a target and the showdown goes horribly for Protag-kun. He hasn’t caught any fish when Antagonist-kun is already at 4. In the meanwhile, everything is commented by Smart-kun who was spying on them hidden in a bush, wondering what’s going on. He makes a few comments about how the competition against Antagonist-kun is more important since he’s dangerous. Antagonist-kun is about to catch his fifth fish and Smart-kun panics, thinking that Protag-kun won’t make it and suddenly runs out to implement his technique, Practice-made Perfection. Coincidentally, Protag-kun also uses Spontaneous Spirit in that moment. Their techniques combine in an explosion of motivation and mathematical formulas. Not only do they catch the next fish Antagonist-kun was about to kill, but seven more along with it.

Despite it not being a fair win, Antagonist-kun is pissed. He makes a degrading comment on how Protag-kun couldn’t even win without being helped, but Protag-kun rebuts him with yet another motivational speech. He goes on about how this day made him realize that what makes a good fisherman is not control or never being helped by anyone but cooperation with others and strong will - with this, they even managed to defeat Antagonist-kun’s complex moves.

Antagonist-kun takes his leave with a ‘Tch’ and announces that he’ll have his revenge at the competition with an evil smirk. Meanwhile, Friendo-kun and Token-chan come back and start wondering what happened. They find Protag-kun and Smart-kun trying to get their fishing lines untangled since they got stuck together due to the combined techniques. When they ask about it, Smart-kun blushes very slightly and comments on how embarrassing this is for him. Protag-kun tells them that Smart-kun has been very nice to him and helped him defeat ‘that weird guy’. Smart-kun denies all of it while the others are busy being perplexed about the situation. Protag-kun also brings it to his notice that being spontaneous brought more results in that moment than calculating every move, to which the other claims to have predicted everything since the beginning (which is obviously false). Protag-kun asks him why he helped him then and Smart-kun tells him he was too pitiful and it was painful to watch. Besides, he wanted to see Antagonist-kun lose. Token-chan looks oddly in thought when hearing that name. Smart-kun is too embarrassed and just leaves.

Protag-kun tells the others enthusiastically about how he managed to use his technique again. They decide to celebrate and start walking up to the usual sushi bar. For a short period of time, Token-chan drags Friendo-kun with her so the two can lag behind without Protag-kun hearing them talk. She expresses her concerns about Protag-kun interacting with Antagonist-kun and makes Friendo-kun swear that they’ll try in any way to prevent the two of them to talk so that Protag-kun doesn’t find out about that thing. Protag-kun yells at them to walk faster and they all revert to their happy mood.

We can lastly see Antagonist-kun in the moonlight, stabbing a fish with a knife mercilessly as he smiles.

#FISH!!!!!! in the water #episodes #episode 3 #fishing anime

4 notes · View notes

sduswdnd · 5 years

Text

Campaign 1 Part 6: Mine Mine Mine

From Part 5

When last we left our intrepid adventurers, they were headed off to rescue their original contractor, Gundren Rockseeker. They know that he’s being held at Kragmaw Castle, so they head off in that direction. After setting bundles of bras on fire in the temple of Fred and Victoria, being challenged by a rogue band of fierce doors, they finally meet and defeat a drow and a king who has a name, but I don’t want to go back and look it up, because he’s dead, so there. Reviving the dwarf, they decide to head off to the mines. But first, revelry…

Part 6

Together, our party heads back to Fandolyn for rest and recovery. They have the female drow in tow, and plan on interrogating her, but don’t get much new information. Frustrated, they lock her in the prison and decide on the next step.

Maik yells, “Hookers and blow?”

The party yells, “Hookers and Blow!”

“We still have crap to sell,” Teiris reminds everyone. “I’m tired of carrying around half a bugbear butt.”

“Nose goes!”

“Dammit!”

So, as the bulk of the party head to the nearby tavern, Teiris goes to the Bart Mart and sells off a bunch of crap. The Bart Mart is looking kind of thin on crap, and Teiris makes a few great deals on their assorted crap. She heads over to the armorer and does the same. After dragging her bag to a few more places, then to the city hall to make change, she heads off to the tavern to meet up with her crew.

She enters the bar and sees the two druids curled up in the corner with the pirate and her new pet wolf. The Halfling is jumping from chandelier to chandelier, yelling, “I’m hiding! Stealth!” The cleric and the paladin are laying hands on everyone, in a vain attempt to dispel morning hangovers. Teiris goes to the barkeep, who is watching the newcomers closely.

“Howdy, friend,” she says cheerfully.

He glares at her, then turns his attention back to her group.

“Have they started a tab yet?” she sighs.

He grunts at her and slides over a piece of parchment. “Twenty five gold.”

She coughs in disbelief. “If I perform for your crowd, can I take care of their tab and a room for the night?”

“It had better be a damn good performance,” he grumbles.

She smiles widely. “One performance coming up!” She jumps up on a nearby table and begins to sing and dance:

Because I'm bard I’m a jack of all trades/I give inspiration, got charisma for days Don't have to worry about getting my loot/If I sing my songs, and I play this flute

'Cause I'm a bard Yeah, yeah, yeah 'Cause I'm a bard Yeah, yeah, yeah

I see people fighting/It just makes me giggle 'Cause I don't have to fight/I just have to wiggle

I’m a bard / That’s B- A- R- D 'Cause I'm a bard / Don't you wish you were me

I never have to rage, and I never have to sneak/Why should I bother, my persuasion is peak

I know lots of people are stronger than me/But I have this philosophy Piss off! (yeah yeah yeah)

'Cause I'm a bard / Yeah, yeah, yeah

I just want to say that being chosen as this month's Bardic Inspiration Is, like, a compliment I'll remember for as long as I can Right now I'm a level 3 with my expertise in persuasion and deception But my goal is to become a warcaster 'Cause I love children.

'Cause I'm a bard / B- A you know the rest

‘Cause I'm a bard Yeah, yeah, yeah ‘Cause I'm a bard Yeah, yeah, yeah

'Cause I'm a bard Yeah, yeah, yeah

Coppers, silvers, gold, room keys, and numbers shower the table where she stands. Gathering the coins and keys, she turns around, pays the tab, grabs her own room key, and heads back to her party.

“Hey guys, I got us rooms and paid your tab. Anything from here on out is all on you. I also have money for you, but you can have it when you’re sober.” She tosses them the other room keys and heads upstairs to bed.

~~~~~

The following morning, the group meets back downstairs for breakfast. Maik and Captain Aerostar are still curled up in the corner with the wolf. The barkeep brings out toast, coffee and other breakfast food. Teiris divvies up the coin she got from selling their crap then starts on breakfast.

“So, we’re heading to the mine?” Traxion asks.

“Mine? Mine? Mine?” echo Baze and Gerrol.

“Yes!” shouts Racksocker. “Off to the mine, to see my kin!”

“Sure, sure,” says Korrin. He tosses a bucket of water on the wolf, stirring everyone. “Let’s go, people.”

And with a growl and several hungover moans, off they go.

They get to the mine after a few hours, and carefully start on in. In the first chamber, they come across a ruined campsite. Rickroller steps closer, while Baze begins to loot the other bodies. They find boots of striding, which look fabulous with Mirea’s outfit.

~~~~~~

Gondola stops at the smaller body and falls to his knees. “My brother!” He starts to clutch himself and start rocking back and forth, falling to pieces. The group start hearing chittering and squawks in the distance as strange rave music starts to pump into the chamber. Silvenhost shakes his head, but no one wants to approach the wailing dwarf. Finally, Teiris goes up to the dwarf and slaps him hard.

“Hey hey hey! Not the time! Fall apart later, we have to get moving!” she says forcefully.

Maik and Silvenhost stare wide-eyed at the little tiefling. “Damn, harsh.”

She looks at them, “What?”

“No, nothing.” They look up, down, anywhere but at Teiris.

“Thought so.”

They move on.

They come across a wide pit with caves that lead deeper into the mine. Cap, Traxion and Silvenhost decide to head down and attempt to jump down. Traxion lands in a three point superhero landing. Silvenhost and Captain Aerostar fall hard on their asses. They check out the caves and call up to everyone, “Come on down! It goes on from here.” Mirea, Maik, and Teiris land with a flourish, while Gerrol falls hard into the dirt.

There are two caves in opposite directions. “Which way, Greg?”

The dwarf shrugs. “I don’t know, I don’t have the map.”

Teiris pipes up, “Right is right, left is treasure.”

The mention of treasure, Baze perks up and heads left. The rest of the party heads right.

Baze starts down the corridor and heads into a dead end. He turns and is jumped by green jello. He has a flashback of subsisting on jello for several months after breaking his jaw and is immediately frightened and starts screaming.

Teiris and Silvenhost are closest to the screaming and start running. Baze runs past them and down another hallway. Traxion follows the others into the hall and starts beating on the jello. It splits and becomes two jellos.

“Stop hitting it!” yells Silvenhost, now fighting the two jellos.

“Hit it?” Traxion asks, “Ok!” and he hits one of the jellos, splitting it again. Now there are three jellos.

“Dammit,” grunts Silvenhost as he beats up two of the jellos. The third jello runs.

~~~~~

Mirea and Maik head down the other path and come across another large room.

“Light it up pretty like,” Mirea whispers. Maik complies and lights the room.

There are skeletons everywhere. It looks like the remains of a battle, with dwarven skeletons scattered across the ground. They carefully move into the room and head to what appears to be the old entrance to the mine.

Suddenly, the shrubbery attacks. Mirea instinctively send out fireballs, roasting four of the sturges. Maik follows up with a thunderwave but misses.

“Roasted veggies on the menu tonight, boys,” Mirea yells and fires off another fireball.

Maik tries his thunderwave again, more accurately this time. Together, they take out the rest.

Traxion yells, “I don’t know about you guys, but I want cake.”

The cheers of “CAKE CAKE CAKE” fill the cavern as Maik druidcrafts a delicious looking cake.

“CAKE TIME!” Maik yells. And the group sits and enjoys their cake.

~~~~~

The cake demolished, they all gather up and head to the corner of the cavern. There they’re confronted by a door.

“You gotta be kidding…” “Aw, Come on!”

Baze carefully checks the door for traps. No traps, but…

“Hey guys,” he yells, “When is a door not a door?”

Silvenhost shakes his head. “I don’t know?”

“When it’s ajar!” Baze answers as he pushes the door open. Multiple groans and a few rocks get tossed his way.

Inside the door they come across an iron brassier. “It’s a exercise brassier!” Cap says. More groans and rocks are tossed.

Suddenly, they’re accosted by three ghouls. Baze shrieks and shoots the first ghoul. One shot and down.

Cap shoots another one, hits and it goes screaming, closing the door. Traxion attempts to open the door, and fails. Teiris tries the door and also fails. Gerrol kicks the door in and attacks a ghoul, and hits it, sending it screaming. Cap lets her wolf through the door and shoots again. The two remaining ghouls get hit, dead.

They continue on.

The druids come across a large chamber filed with fungus.

Maik yells, “Hey guys! Magic mushrooms!” They immediately recognize these mushrooms as poisonous and yell at Traxion and Baze.

“No touching!”

Traxion pulls his hand back, sheepish. “No touching.”

They start through the cavern. Teiris catches her horn on one of the mushrooms, setting off the poison spores. “Sorry! My bad!”

The rest hold their breath and move to the next cavern.

They find two structures across from each other.

“Well, which one?” They all look at Gorgonzola.

“I don’t know, I’ve never been here!”

“And you’re guiding us?” Gerrol asks. He goes to the first structure and opens the door. Inside he finds a chest… and a wraith being very protective of the chest.

“That’s mine! All mine!” the wraith screams.

Gerrol and Baze move to start fighting the wraith when Teiris runs up, hands out. “Wait! Hold up!” She turns to the wraith. “Hi, Mr. Wraith. We’re sorry if we woke you, we’re just looking for some friends of ours. How are you?”

The wraith looks at her carefully. “You’re the first person to ask me that in I don’t know how long.”

“Well, how are you?”

“I’ve been better. I mean, my sciatica is horrible, and the damp in these caves… oy.”

Teiris nods sympathetically. Gerrol rolls his eyes and keeps scanning the room.

The wraith continues, “And on top of it, the jerk eyeball next door won’t shut up! I can’t even get a decent night’s sleep with him going on and on about his mission… Such a headache, that one is.”

Teiris suggests, “We could get rid of him for you, if you want.”

The wraith looks at her hopefully. “If you can do that, you can have all the crap in that old chest your friend seem so interested in.”

Teiris looks at the group. They shrug, “Sure.”

Teiris turns back to the wraith. “We’re on the case! But first,” she says, “Let’s check this place out.” They turn the room over and find a map. They all decide maybe they should get some of that old school healing done before taking on an eyeball. All healed, they head back outside and go to the other structure.

Heading to the next structure, everyone starts readying spells, arrows, daggers, etc. Silvenhost and Cap open the door and see a brassiere burning with a strange sickly green flame. Suddenly, a spectator eyeball guy appears and does… nothing.

Teiris hops to the front. “Hi, I’m Teiris,” she says cheerfully, waving. Cap takes a deep breath, mentally calculating how much it will take to raise the stupid bard from the dead.

“Hello, I’m Kevin,” says the eyeball.

“How are you, Kevin?” Teiris asks.

“I’m ok, thanks for asking,” the eyeball answers. “My boss left me here to keep an eye on things, hahaha,” he chuckles. Teiris laughs as well.

“Your boss?” Teiris asks.

“Powerful wizard. He said watch over stuff until he gets back.” The eyeball turns around slowly, “It’s been a while though,” he says sadly.

“Hey, you know what, Kevin?” She looks at the group, nodding at them to go along with her. “Your boss sent us here to relieve you!”

“He did?” the eyeball asks.

“He sure did! Didn’t he guys?” she looks at the group.

“Oh yeah!” “Yeah!” “Absolutely!” “I thought we were supposed to kill him?”

Everyone glares at Silvenhost.

“Yeah, we’re your replacements! We got this, so you can just head on home and say ‘hi’ to Mrs. Kevin for us.” Teiris starts waving at Kevin, looking at the others to do the same. They all follow suit telling him have fun, they’ve got this and elbowing Silvenhost when he tries to swing at Kevin. Kevin smiles widely, grabs his hat and lunchbox and leaves.

“See!” Teiris says, “I can be useful sometimes!”

They ransack the room and find a Lightbringer sword, which is too heavy for her, and Dragonguard mail. She tries the mail on and promptly falls over with a thud. “Too heavy for me, who wants it?” She watches the others fight over the mail as she sharpens her bow by the brassiere. They all decide to rest before hitting the rest of the caves.

NEXT: The end?!

0 notes

shara-k · 5 years

Text

Campaign 1 Part 6: To the Mines!

From Part 5

Part 6 To the Mines

Maik yells, “Hookers and blow?”

The party yells, “Hookers and Blow!”

“We still have crap to sell,” Teiris reminds everyone. “I’m tired of carrying around half a bugbear butt.”

“Nose goes!”

“Dammit!”

“Howdy, friend,” she says cheerfully.

He glares at her, then turns his attention back to her group.

“Have they started a tab yet?” she sighs.

He grunts at her and slides over a piece of parchment. “Twenty five gold.”

She coughs in disbelief. “If I perform for your crowd, can I take care of their tab and a room for the night?”

“It had better be a damn good performance,” he grumbles.

She smiles widely. “One performance coming up!”

She jumps up on a nearby table and begins to sing and dance:

Because I'm bard I’m a jack of all trades/I give inspiration, got charisma for days Don't have to worry about getting my loot/If I sing my songs, and I play this flute

'Cause I'm a bard Yeah, yeah, yeah 'Cause I'm a bard Yeah, yeah, yeah

I see people fighting/It just makes me giggle 'Cause I don't have to fight/I just have to wiggle

I’m a bard / That’s B- A- R- D 'Cause I'm a bard / Don't you wish you were me

I never have to rage, and I never have to sneak/Why should I bother, my persuasion is peak

I know lots of people are stronger than me/But I have this philosophy Piss off! (yeah yeah yeah)

'Cause I'm a bard / Yeah, yeah, yeah

'Cause I'm a bard / B- A you know the rest

'Cause I'm a bard Yeah, yeah, yeah 'Cause I'm a bard Yeah, yeah, yeah

'Cause I'm a bard Yeah, yeah, yeah

Coppers, silvers, gold, room keys, and numbers shower the table where she stands. Gathering the coins and keys, she turns around, pays the tab, grabs her own room key, and heads back to her party.

~~~~~

“So, we’re heading to the mine?” Traxion asks.

“Mine? Mine? Mine?” echo Baze and Gerrol.

“Yes!” shouts Racksocker. “Off to the mine, to see my kin!”

“Sure, sure,” says Korrin. He tosses a bucket of water on the wolf, stirring everyone. “Let’s go, people.”

And with a growl and several hungover moans, off they go.

~~~~~~

Finally, Teiris goes up to the dwarf and slaps him hard.

“Hey hey hey! Not the time! Fall apart later, we have to get moving!” she says forcefully.

Maik and Silvenhost stare wide-eyed at the little tiefling. “Damn, harsh.”

She looks at them, “What?”

“No, nothing.” They look up, down, anywhere but at Teiris.

“Thought so.”

They move on.

There are two caves in opposite directions. “Which way, Goldenrod?”