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apocalypse-shuffle · 1 year

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DICK GRAYSON & JASON TODD | BATFAMILY (assorted canon)

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“Long Overdue: Epilogue” (Dick Grayson & Batmom!Reader), (Jason Todd & Batmom!Reader) and (background Bruce Wayne x Batmom!Reader)

| Reader was with Bruce in the past but grew distant after Jason’s death. No one tells her when he comes back from the dead until Bruce is forced to bring her in on a raid when they’re overwhelmed. -Jason and Batmom!Reader reunion.

| SFW, canon typical action/violence, cursing?, mentions of grief, past death of a child

| This is like half fanon half UTRH/Batman:Hush. I’m really just fucking around with canon rn. Also the pictures used are just for aesthetics and have no contextual meaning to the story. (pic source: Gotham Knights video game)

| 2k+ words

| parts: one, spurt, two, three, four, five, six/six point five, seven. (series masterlist)

You walk out of the weapons cache lighter than how you walked into it and head directly for your eldest.

“Dick what the hell?”

Said man, halfway through what looks like calf stretches, sits up and throws a slight frown your way.

“What? What’d I do?”

And bless him but he’s actually thinking it over. Eyes sliding to the side and lips pursing and everything. Racking his brain over what mess he forgot to get himself out of this time.

Somewhere behind you Jason starts laughing at Dick so when he passes by you flick him on the arm. The drama queen then makes a whole show of blowing you off with a half assed ‘ow’. Your eyes meet the dark depths of the cave ceiling for a second as you beg for strength before they lock on Dick once more.

From there all you have to do is purse your lips and raise a brow for him to catch on. His arms fling into the air.

“He said he’d ‘take care of it’, and I haven’t seen you since then. Fuck me for thinking he actually did it! And he only felt the need to tell me three nights ago so it’s not like you’re the only one.”

Your shoulders start to shake and you move closer until you can nudge him. His arms drop and he huffs.

“Easy, little D, I’m just teasing. Don’t beat yourself up over your father’s horrible communication skills, okay?”

“Don’t worry I won’t,” he says.

You do catch the nasty look he throws the cave entrance with despite what he’s said, and the easy tone he’s said it with, however.

“Actually,” Jason pipes up, helmet back on and voice once again skewed. “I’m still hung up on your shit communication skills. Nightfall? Since when has that been a thing?”

He jabs a finger in your direction while pacing around to Dick’s other side. Dick doesn’t do anything but follow the younger’s antics with his eyes.

You laugh, shrugging, and lean back on the cave wall beside the desk. You're still within spitting distance of the boys but you can’t bring yourself to travel any further.

“I’ve been in the game longer than Bruce has, but mostly under an independent contractor. It wasn’t till I came to Gotham that I changed my suit and started calling myself Nightfall; that gimmicky shit is contagious after all.”

“Immensely goddamn contagious,” Jason mutters darkly. He throws a glare Dick’s way that translates pretty perfectly even with the helmet to get him to knock off the staring, but you get the feeling the older only looks away because grilling you is a more pressing matter.

In the next moment Dick snaps his fingers, “You know what I still don’t get? How come we never found out? I mean you didn’t tell me until I was in Blud already.”

That question you can’t shrug away as easily. A grimace crosses your face and Jason makes an intrigued ‘ohh’ sound that honestly makes you want to flip him off. How are you being cajoled by your children right now?

“Well…” you kiss your teeth. “I was in love.”

The “Gross,” Jason lets out is instantaneous and he holds a hand up - it's a flawless reminder that 19 is not yet fully grown. “Forget I asked.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s not that damn bad. It’s just that when we first got Dick Bruce thought it’d be best if he had a greater sense of normalcy out of the cape, and I agreed; one vigilante parent was enough. Then we just kept that same dynamic when we got you,” you gesture to Jason and he tilts his head.

“I’m still not seeing how that relates to the completely unnecessary ‘in love’ comment you made earlier.”

“Jason,” you scold. “I’m getting there, goddamn.”

Dick poorly muffles a laugh and you give him a hard look before rolling your shoulders.

“Back in the day, before Bruce stopped acting like we were a unit and more like I was a casualty of war in the waiting-” you take a deep breath and cross your arms, closing your eyes against the white lights of the cave.

You can hear the way the boys falter, likely glancing to one another to figure out what to do before they each take a step forward.

“Mom-” Dick calls.

“You don’t have to-” Jason’s saying at the same time, their voices overlapping, and you shake your head.

“It’s fine,” you say. You blink your eyes open; both brothers have stilled but they’re balancing forward like they think you’re gonna drop. You huff. “Point is, there was a time where he could’ve convinced me of anything. He used to look at me like I hung the fucking moon just to provide people free light to see, you know? So at a certain time I chose not to tell you two because I didn’t want to challenge the perception of me that you had gotten from Bruce. That’s why you didn’t know, I didn’t want you to think I was as bad as the people you were fighting every night; the people who took away your parents from you. Dick running off was what made me finally spill, but you died years before I would’ve been ready to tell you, Jay.”

Jason clears his throat, “Uh. That why you and hi- Bruce separated?”

“Not really,” you sigh, shaking your head. “It wasn’t Bruce before…it was Bruce after. After you died we didn’t just bounce back…so eventually things between us soured. I loved him but expecting someone to put up with you constantly pushing them away isn’t fair,” you shrug. “How Bruce saw me stopped mattering as much after that.”

Dick nods, lining up what you’ve said to his own memory of the aftermath and coming up with a corresponding connection.

“Yeah, you and Bruce argued for hours after you met Tim that first time…and then some more when Stephanie became Robin. Hell, even by the time I’d gotten back earthside you and Bruce were down right frosty when you were next to each other even though you were trying to hide it from us.”

“Yeah,” you grunt. “That’s all we tend to do now. Stay mad.”

Staring off into the distance Dick nods and Jason catches your eye, or maybe the other way round.

Whatever expression he is looking at you with is impossible to place but he is definitely watching you. Uncannily all the boys had Bruce’s tendency to look at things, and by extension people, like they were puzzles to solve. Which came with the added bonus of the recipient of said stare being able to feel it. Feel the weight of being dissected and picked apart as if it was a physical thing.

Most buck under that level of analysis. Wholly used to the originator of that stare though you continue on as usual. If he wasn’t going to ask then you had nothing to say.

After it becomes clear you won’t be coughing anything more up Jason backs off, pushing the conversation towards lighter material until Dick and him are carrying the back and forth together. They play off of each other in stunted stops and starts, and barely concealed hostility on Jason’s part, but their awkward attempts at light hearted banter still get your mind out of the gutter you’d landed in.

Ten minutes of forced jokes and almost insults later and Jason starts giving less than subtle hints at wanting to head out. After that it doesn’t take long before he comes over, and he doesn’t reach out to you but he does softly knock your shoulders together.

“See you later, Ma,” he says for your ears alone.

“Goodbye Jason,” you respond even though you’d rather never have him leave your side again.

You watch him go and are drastically reminded that your eyes have been incessantly brimming with tears this whole time when a few slip down your face with little prompting.

A few more beads follow the path of the others after you catch sight of the truly cracked look on Alfred’s face when Jason comes up to him before there’s an arm slinging across your shoulders and Dick’s urging you into a hug.

You take it. You raised some good kids, you’ll give yourself that much. Even if there were some major fuck ups along the way.

“It’s kinda surreal, isn’t it?”

“Oh absolutely,” you croak. “I like it though.”

Dick shrugs, “Yeah. It wouldn’t really be us if things got too predictable anyway.”

He waits a beat and then, “So who’s updating Babs?”

“Let me guess,” you deadpan, “he told you two at the same time?”

“Pretty much. Which that, combined with everything that happened with Steph and The Birds, and having to break all this to Cass means her fuse is waaay shorter than usual.”

“Not it,” you proclaim.

Dick’s mouth drops open, his gaze snapping to you.

“What? That’s not fair.”

“Says who? I’m not cleaning up after Bruce anymore than I already am, and she’s your friend, Dick.”

“It’s still unfair,” he grumbles. He brushes it off quickly though. “So….I heard you and Cass ran into each other a few days ago.”

“Yeah. Last Sunday.” You side eye him. “Right after you almost started a grease fire in your new apartment.”

Dick holds his hand to his chest, tone barely upset enough to sound like true hurt. “Don’t look at me like that, I can cook.”

You nod slowly, “I know you can cook,” then shake your head in the same manner. “But you cannot fry.”

“It’s not my fault the oil fights back. I get enough shit in my nightly life. I don't need it when I’m at home on top of that.”

He smiles but the way it doesn’t reach his eyes churns your stomach.

“Maybe pan frying just isn’t for you,” you murmur but your hand goes up to touch his arm. “How’re you feeling?”

Dick shrugs. Gaze locking somewhere over your shoulder.

“As good as I can be,” you give him a sideways look and he forces a chuckle, rocking back from your touch. “Seriously I’m fine. Please don’t stress out about me. Are you okay?”

“Uh huh,” you grunt before pushing him towards the benches on the other side of the cave. “Sure. I’m fine. Now come on, let’s go sit.”

“Mom-”

“Nope. Move before you pass out or some shit.”

“Ah,” he gasps. “You said a bad word.”

“Dick,” you curb the urge to roll your eyes.

- - -

Whatever conversation Jason’s just had with Alfred doesn’t seem to have left him any more tense than he already was, which is good. You and Dick stop mid sentence to watch him walk off from your new position on the floor.

You with a foam roller and your first child dramatically cringing every time you go over the area just above the hole in his calf. Part of it you’re sure is him trying to cheer you up but the other you're certain are actual expressions of pain because he went out on a literal bullet wound even though you’d told him to stay his ass home.

“I don’t know why he’s under the impression that I can’t shoot without killing someone but he’s wrong,” Jason’s saying. He pats the occupied holster at his thigh while making his way towards the vehicle pathway. “Anyway, I’m gonna get outta here. The later I see you Bats the better.”

“Jason!”

“Except for you, Ma! I’ll call you tomorrow!” He yells over his shoulder, running his fingers over the handle of the bike closest to him.

“You’d better,” you yell back. You’d be happy to reinstate another child that would lament the drama in their lives to you on your call list.

“Uh oh,” Dick says under his breath.

You turn to look over at him for barely a second, brows raised and mouth partially open, when the sound of a motorcycle revving answers your unasked question for you.

Looking back at the bikes shows Jason’s already peeling out of the cave with a yell of: “I’ll leave this somewhere you can find!”

You blink after him, not sure if you want to laugh or not.

“That’s not good,” Dick murmurs. When you turn to him he’s grimacing and seeing your expression he nods to the now empty spot. “That was Tim’s bike.”

“Oh.” For the first time since finding out the implications of Jason being Red Hood really hit you. Your lips purse. If he’d really been at that confrontation Tim came out of with a (mild according to him) slit throat during the Hush debacle, and been the one to infiltrate Titans Tower and lay Tim out a few weeks back you had a situation. “Oh lorde.”

“Yeah,” Dick gets up in one swift motion, hands on the roller. “We can’t have regular family problems. Nope.”

Unfortunately he’s right. A sigh falls past your lips. Either way, that was one down. You stand, addressing Dick while he’s putting the foam back.

“Excitement aside, before you head back to New York you want to come help me make dinner?” You incline your head. “Tim can come too.”

He smiles at you. You know he understands you not wanting to get too close to the teen but appreciates you including him in stuff anyway.

“Yeah, Mom, I’d love to. Just let me get my stuff and I’ll call him.”

“Okay.”

Dick leaves and you settle in to wait just as the Batmobile comes rumbling into the Cave. You cut your eyes at the vehicle but otherwise don’t acknowledge as Bruce gets out of it, heading immediately to change.

Alfred comes up to your side a breath later. The two of you nod in greeting.

“Sorry for taking the kids from you.”

“That’s quite alright, Mistress Y/n,” His voice drops to a whisper. “Between the two of us I believe Master Timothy may resort to camping in the woods behind the estate if he’s stuck here a moment longer. I’ll gladly allow you to take them both. You go deal with yours and I’ll deal with mine.”

“Have fun,” you croon lightly. The butler gives you a wry look in response. You shrug. “Oh, and if you wouldn’t mind could you tell Bruce to meet me at the Wayne Plot?”

A nod from the old butler.

“Is there a specific time you would like for me to convey as well?”

“He’ll know,” you say simply.

Alfred gives a curt nod.

“Certainly then. Farewell, my dear.” Alfred arches a brow at Dick as he comes back with a duffle swung over his shoulder. “And do try to express upon Master Richard the necessity of wearing his winter gear this year.”

“Alfred,” the man huffs.

You laugh and flick said man in the side. “I don’t think I’ll have to. He should have learned his damned lesson with that two week cold.”

“And I really did,” he bats your hand away and then speeds off. “I'll be upstairs.”

“Bye!” You laugh after him.

This was something you could work with. Putting time into your relationships with your boys and Tim. Solid plan. You say your farewells to Alfred and then follow after your eldest. Your gripes with Bruce could wait, you had dinner to make and two boys to feed.

Fin.

NOTES: I don’t know how severe the implications of a two week cold are but whatever. Hope you enjoyed!!

Thank you all for embarking on this journey with me, this is the first long form series I’ve actually finished so I’m very excited to cap it off!!

Anyway, long overdue is done but I will also write extras to this series at some other time in the future (if you’d like to be tagged in those then tell me).✌🏾

And yes I did my best not to have to write Tim or Cass yet, I can barely write Dick as is. Also let’s just assume Reader had the decency to actually inform Dick about Jason’s death and as such he wasn’t forced to dig for that information himself behind Bruce’s back.

btw: if you’d like to leave a comment I’d very much appreciate it. this is a sideblog tho so I won’t respond.

Tagged: @aarinisreading, @niphredil-14, @mxtokko, @calsjack, @brunnetteiwik, @trashpenguin

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itsmaferart · 8 months

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SPY x FAMILY x CHAIR Vol 10 - 11- 12

Continuing with this series of analysis of the covers:

SxF . Vol 10 - Redacted

Unlike all the covers so far, cover 10 is the only one that does not show us a chair, but instead introduces us to [Redacted]. So we can give a little deeper analysis.

We can highlight that behind [Redacted] we can clearly see the rubble of a house of which there is absolutely nothing left, a soldier's helmet with scratches and cracks, the toy gun and a radio that apparently announced the war and the look of a child who has lost all happiness in his life and now must learn to survive with no one to take care of him.

I think it goes without saying that this is the saddest cover of the whole collection so far. But we can talk about the influence of [Redacted] on the current story.

In previous reviews I have talked about how [Redacted] is the basis for the existence of Twilight, the great spy of Westalis, the metaphorical death of this child who has lost his parents and his friends due to the conflicts of his country, and who later, blinded by hatred, would want to destroy his apparent enemies, to finally learn the hard lesson from his father of always longing for peace above all else.

From my perspective the tragedy of [Redacted] is the basis of Twilight, it's why the spy fighting for peace exists, but more importantly, it's what allows Twilight to not be entirely a living weapon serving a specific side. And while Twilight you made remembering her past "Self" is weakness, it is also who reminds her of what is truly important.

And it is [Redacted] who gives authenticity to Loid Forger, who reminds him that in the past he could experience happiness, his more vulnerable and sweet side, a child who could easily cry and wished to be in his mother's arms every night. Someone who just wished for a little love. Redacted] may never come back, but it is because of him that Twilight and Loid Forger are genuine and real.

This is a good time to dry your tears! 😭

SxF . Vol 11 - Emile and Ewen - Hill House Chair

The Hill House Chair was designed by Scottish architect and designer Charles Rennie Mackintosh in 1902 for the Hill House residence in Helensburgh, Scotland. The design has a strong Japanese influence, which Mackintosh incorporated into his work after being exposed to Japanese aesthetics during the Glasgow International Art Exhibition.

The chair is in Mackintosh's "Glasgow Style", which is characterized by straight, simple lines and shapes. The chair, along with the rest of the furniture, was designed to integrate with the architecture and décor of the building, resulting in a harmonious and balanced ensemble.

Both the Willow chair and Hill House Chair are designs by Mackintosh, which is characterized by simple lines, geometric shapes and a modernist sensibility that gives them a unique and recognizable look. In terms of style and architectural context, the chairs have important differences in terms of form and functionality. The Willow Chair is a low chair with a curved back and woven seat, while the Hill House Chair is a taller, slimmer chair with a rectangular back and upholstered seat.

Damian-sama!!

There are two very interesting details that I could highlight and the language of the objects with respect to the chair, and the characters. Unlike Damian, the proportion of the chairs with respect to both children is much more harmonious unlike Damian whose chair stands out easily and its size is huge with respect to his size, indicating that while Damian projects greatness, Emile and Ewen are the complementation, both stand out, but balance each other at the same time, and do not overshadow Damian-Sama!

It is very interesting, given that the chair selection reflects this bond of friends/followers. While the chairs have different contexts, while Willow Chiar's has a primary function, the Hill House has the function of complementing the decor. Pointing out how the personalities of Emile and Ewen is to complement Damian.

Like Becky, the reflection of each other's personality is evident, they are notorious and not hidden. While Ewen has a passion for space, astronauts and the stars; Emile is a lover of sweets and all kinds of junk food. However, in the middle of both of them there is an obvious bond for explorer adventures. Having his picture with Damian in the center, because their bond as friends is very genuine!

SxF . Vol 12 - Sylvia Sherwood - Diamond Chair

The Diamond Chair, also known as the Bertoia Chair, was created by sculptor and designer Harry Bertoia in 1952. It was originally designed for Knoll International and has become a symbol of 20th century industrial and avant-garde design.

Bertoia designed the chair because of his desire to explore new forms and techniques of furniture making. Inspiration came from his interest in experimenting with steel wires, which allowed him to create light and elegant structures.

The motive was to achieve a perfect combination of form and comfort, which would be attractive but also ergonomic and comfortable to use. The chair's curved steel wire frame allows for breathability and provides flexible support, adapting to the user's body. Its design is minimalist and timeless, as well as its versatility and ability to adapt to a variety of environments.

"Stop waiting for easy answers to fall into your lap, Rookie. Use that head of yours to find them for yourself"

Both Fullmetal Lady and Diamond Chair could be described as elegant, sophisticated and modern. In addition, the attention to detail and quality workmanship reflect a high-end personality and refinement that projects the experience Handler has in executing its work. At the same time, its comfort and ergonomics demonstrate a concern for the well-being and experience of the user, which makes it friendly and welcoming, one of the most human characteristics of Sylvia who, although she is a relentless woman, also knows how to relate to her humanity, and reminds her little spies that having a soft spot is part of them.

While the folders and surely confidential papers are shuffled and exposed, reminiscent of Handler's main role, we can see subtly hidden the family photograph that is pierced by the chair leg reflecting the rupture caused by the war of losing her husband and young daughter. For no matter the passage of time, it will always be something that will accompany her.

You can read the previous part here

#twiyor #spy x family #yor forger #loid forger #loid x yor #yor briar #anya forger #twilight #sxf #spyxfamily twilight #spy x family manga #spy family #sylvia sherwood #spy x familyx chair

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604to647 · 2 months

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Mi Galleta (Part 3 - Salted Caramel)

4.5K / Modern AU Grumpy Bouncer!Pero Tovar x Sunshine-Rich Girl!reader

Summary: Dating Pero feels like a dream, until you overhear something that makes you question everything.

Warnings: 18+ Content (MDNI please), dating Biker!Pero needs a warning (check out the ✨vibes✨), allusions to smut (reference to oral, unprotected PiV, aftercare, fingering, semi-public sex), dirty thoughts, the bike helmet stays on 🤷🏻‍♀️, pet names (Cookie, princesa, hermosa, etc.), misogynistic, classist and degrading language used to talk about women (not by Pero, but... you'll see).

A/N: A friend of mine once told me that the restaurant business can be super misogynistic and I was actually shocked to hear some of her stories 😣 For our story, Lin isn't one of those types of establishments, but sometimes, bad eggs make their way into a good carton.

Series Masterlist

You wake up the next morning naked and snuggled into Pero’s side, your arm draped over his broad chest. Trying not to wake him as you carefully climb out of bed, you look back and admire Pero’s peaceful face, much soften with sleep and framed by hair messy and tossed from the previous night’s activities. Gosh, he’s so handsome. Even the scar over his left eye is becoming one of your favourite features; a fearsome token of some past violence that belies the softness of the gentle giant who bears it. You wonder if he’ll ever tell you where it’s from. Throwing on a camisole sleep set and robe, you pad out to the kitchen and leave your snoring Adonis to his rest.

Grinning to yourself lazily as you make coffee, your mind drifts back to events of last night. Of the multiple orgasms Pero pulled from you with his skilled mouth, hands, and cock. Of the heaviness of his balls on your tongue and how sweet and salty he tasted as you worked his length down your throat. God the things that man said in bed: calling you a goddess one minute, then his dirty fuck doll the next, all while you bounced cock drunk on his lap. His eyes, however, never expressed anything but devotion and wonder, grounding you even as he made you shudder and convulse in pleasure. Humming contently while cooking eggs, you’re pulled from your daydream state only when a strong pair of arms wrap around your waist and patchy scruff tickles into your neck where Pero whispers, “Good morning, Cookie.”

Turning in his arms, you immediately lose yourself to the searing kiss Pero lays on you. He had missed you the moment he woke up and found himself alone.

After Pero accepts your invitation stay for breakfast, he sips on his coffee and takes in your apartment; you’ve decorated for a clean and classic aesthetic, it’s not overly opulent but there are obvious touches of luxury and understated elegance that trim the furniture and personal items that litter the grand space. You catch him admiring the breathtaking panoramic view of the city through the window wall running down the length of your apartment, “Really nice place you have here.” He doesn’t miss your slight wince at his compliment; blink-and-you-miss-it, but he catches it before you smile, almost apologetically, “Thanks. It used to be an investment property of my parents’. They gifted it to me when I started work in the city to help me out. Or to claim the tax deduction.” You make the joke, not sure why you think you should feel embarrassed? Because normally, you’re not. You love your place and you’re so grateful to your parents, but you don’t want Pero to think you’re some type of… freeloader? You're not even sure where you head is at with this.

Sensing your discomfort, Pero sweeps you into his arms; kissing you gently, he explains, “I just meant, this place is beautiful and I can tell you’ve poured yourself into making it a home. It’s calm. And welcoming. I see you everywhere here.”

Your chest swells with emotion and a little embarrassment at how quickly you had gone on the defensive; Pero’s been nothing but kind and sweet. Face still buried in his shoulder, you nuzzle in even closer to envelope yourself in his warmth and whisper, “Thank you. It’s my favourite place in the world.”

Over a delicious breakfast, Pero asks you what your plans are for the day and you tell him all about the famers’ market you like to visit on the weekends. When asked if he wants to join you, Pero looks thoughtful, “I’d love to, Cookie. But I have to work at 3:00 today… and I had planned on making you come a few more times before that.”

Giggling at his shit-eating grin, you cross to the other side of the table where Pero is sitting and climb into his lap, “How do you plan on doing that?”

“Over you, under you. On every surface of this gorgeous apartment, Cookie. Gonna give you a couple more reasons for it to be your favourite place,” nudging your nose with his a few times, Pero urges you to open your mouth and let him in. His kisses are unhurried, long and sweet; sated with good food and the promise of unfettered access to your body, Pero feels no reason to rush. Fingers finding the knot of your robe, he works it loose with his nimble fingers and opens the garment to reveal the soft satin number underneath, “My my, what do we have here, princesa?” Pero licks his lips and his eyes darken as he takes in the way you shiver and your nipples perk up and tent the delicate fabric when he slides the robe off your shoulders.

You never make it to the farmer’s market.

Dating Pero is like something out of a movie. Most nights you enjoy decadent, late dinners with Pero after he gets off work; he takes you to some of the city’s most celebrated and exclusive restaurants, always entering through some hidden staff entrance and eating in private rooms or employee access only areas. Whenever you ask about paying, Pero waves you off and say there’s a restaurant staff quid-pro-quo arrangement with Lin. You’ve never heard of any type of restaurant industry secret community, but you suppose it’s possible. Either way, the food is always impeccable and the company is dreamy.

Being a biker’s backpack is one of the most unexpected, yet fun things you’ve ever experienced; you love riding with Pero. Some nights, he’ll take you for casual, aimless rides in the city, just weaving through the busy streets; the city lights always seem to be brighter and even beautiful when whipping by in streaks. Other times Pero will pick a farther destination under the guise of trying a bakery or some local delicacy, taking you out on the open road for longer rides. You think you like these rides more; when you’re alone on a highway or side road, you’ll egg Pero to go faster and he will just to amuse you, loving when you squeal from excitement and hug him tighter.

Pero loves taking you out on his bike, too; he loves the weight of you against his back and the feel of your hands wrapped around him and the way they press up against his stomach, and, if he plays his cards right, grip and rub his thigh. When he lowers his speed, he’ll hold one of your hands in his glove, loving the way your slender fingers intertwine with the leather. He should buy you gloves, he thinks. He does buy you a helmet.

Surprising you one day after work, Pero, looking like a dreamboat, turns heads in his sleek dress clothes topped with his motorcycle jacket as he leans against his parked bike. Crying out in delight when you see him curbside in front of your office building, you practically leap in his arms before slotting your lips over his in a hungry kiss. Not caring if your co-workers see, you open your mouth to Pero’s and let him lick into your mouth slowly and sensually; he cradles your head in one of his big hands, the other pressing you flushed to his broad frame. Pero on the other hand wants your co-workers to see (and maybe even hear) as he worships your soft, supple lips with his own, his hands working their way lower on your body until they’re both full of the plush globes of your ass. Mine, he brags, as he massages and gropes, turning you into putty under his touch.

“What are you doing here, Pero?” you exclaim happily, thrilled by the surprise.

“Took the day off today, Cookie. Thought I’d come grab ya, surprise you with a present.”

“A curbside pick-up and a present? What did I do to deserve this?” You’re still learning not to be surprised by Pero’s thoughtfulness. Turns out you didn’t have a clue just how thoughtful he could be because you’re positively floored when he reaches into his backpack and pulls out a helmet smaller than the one he wears, and holds it out to you with both hands.

“For me?” A question more rhetorical than anything, you’re astonished as you reach out to accept.

Pero is pleased by your reaction, “For you, princesa. Gotta protect that pretty head of yours.”

“Should I feel special? Or is this the helmet you keep on hand for all the girls you let ride… your bike?” your eyes crinkle mischievously, leaving no doubt of the double meaning to your words.

But Pero isn’t about to let this romantic moment get away; he turns the helmet in your hands so that you’re looking at the back before he leans in to plant a soft peck to the upturned corner of your mouth, “Brand new just for you, Cookie.”

You look down and see that on at the very back, near the base of the shiny black helmet, is a small silver etched cartoon of Hello Kitty baking cookies. You love it! It’s so cute. So you. Pulling the helmet over your head, it smells brand new and you feel the baby pink lining personally picked for you fit snug against the sides of your head; definitely not a shared helmet. Internally, you swoon.

“I love it!” you call out loudly so Pero can hear you through the thick plastic. Grinning big back at you, Pero helps adjust your chin straps before playfully flipping down your visor, “Looking good, hermosa. Ready to ride.” He winks at you before helping you up onto the back of the bike and putting on his own helmet. You’re overcome; it’s more than the fact that Pero cares for your safety. Your heart flutters at the idea that Pero is planning for future bike rides with you, frequent enough that it warrants you getting your own gear. When he takes off, you hold on to him tighter than necessary.

---

That night, he fucks you on all fours, naked except the helmet. The protective headgear muffles your pornographic screams of ecstasy, while the sensory deprivation amplifies every orgasm he pulls from your overwrought cunt. After he paints your insides white, Pero runs you a bath to help soothe your strung-out body; cradling you in his arms under the steamy water, he asks if you might like to do that again, but where he keeps the helmet on as well. Sleepily, you tell him the truth, “Anything for you, Pero.”

The next morning you come twice while riding him just from watching the way your tits bounce in the shiny reflection of his helmet visor.

Sleepy Sunday mornings with you are Pero’s favourite. The two of you still naked from the previous night’s lascivious activities, bodies tangled in your crisp bed sheets, just talking; he’ll press soft kisses to your hair while you draw endless designs on his chest with your perfectly manicured nails. It’s as close to domestic bliss as Pero’s ever felt.

“Cookie, don’t take this the wrong way…”

You tilt your head up to see Pero smiling indulgently and raise your eyebrows to play along.

“Why aren’t you married to some rich investment banker, living in a mansion and being treated like the princesa you are?”

You can tell it’s a genuine question, not meant in any way to be insulting; you think you also read unspoken questions in Pero’s eyes: Is that the life you want? What are you doing with me, then? Something to get out of your system before you settle down?

You lay your head on Pero’s chest, chin resting on your hands as you try to be thoughtful about your response.

“I probably could be, if that was what I wanted? I’ve dated those guys before, I grew up with a lot of them, and they can be nice enough. Although, I suppose some of them aren’t.” Pero’s eyes darken at this but lets you continue. “It’s just that with everything they do, they… I guess, maybe a way to describe it is, they lead with money. Having money, making more money, showing off what money they have – it’s what drives all their decisions. It’s core to who they are or who they want to be.”

You take a deep breath, “And that isn’t necessarily a bad thing, and it doesn’t mean they are bad people. But, I don’t know? My measure of value and success has never been wealth. I just… never want money to define me like that. I wouldn’t want to feel like it’s my identity.”

Pero seems quiet, giving you a chance to add, “I know that that’s a very privileged thing for me to say. Money is important, and I’m very lucky to not have to worry about it. I’d just want to live a life and be someone, be with someone, that contributes beyond that.”

You sigh. It sounds silly even to your ears; first world problems, indeed. But Pero pets your head lovingly, lightly massaging your temples with his thumb and reassures you, “I don’t think you have anything to worry about, Cookie. I’ve seen the way you care for your friends, and the love you hold for your family. Life has treated you well and you don’t take it for granted. You carry yourself with gentleness and pour kindness into everything you do. Everyone you meet or is lucky enough to know you is made better having had a chance to bask in your sunshine. Including me. Especially me.”

Pero’s sweet words have you tearing up. You’ve suspected it for a while, but now you’re sure that of the two of you, he’s the kinder one; he of the tender heart. You remain convinced that it must be some sort of cosmic prank that one of the most deeply feeling men you’ve ever known makes his living being intimidating and scaring people on purpose. You think you’re falling in love with him.

“You’re so different than people think you are,” you whisper, contemplatively.

“Oh, how’s that, hermosa?” he gives you a deep scowl, not unlike the one he wore when you first met, but you’re not fooled. You don’t think that scowl will fool you ever again. You crawl up his body, and break up your words with soft kisses all over Pero’s neck, jaw, face, lips, “So you’re a little grumpy. But grumpy is a mood, not who you are. You’re fiercely loyal; maybe you don’t have a million friends but the people you decide to let in, you treasure. You’re a friend for life. You’re hardworking and you love what you do; and even though you’re supposed to be intimidating for your job, I’ve never seen you treat anyone disrespectfully. More often than not, you lead with kindness. And you’re so generous! Both with your time and your good humour. And thoughtful. The most thoughtful man. You’re always so considerate of my heart and feelings – don’t think I don’t notice when you do things just because you think they might make me happy. I’m so lucky, Pero. Maybe I’m not living in a mansion, but I’m already being treated like a princess.”

“You deserve it, princesa. And more,” Pero wraps his arms around you and rolls you gently so you lie beneath him, caged in by his strong arms and his heavy gaze, “I’d do anything for you.”

“I know,” you whisper, before closing your eyes and letting Pero show you how deeply your words have affected him.

Once, you asked Pero what he loved the most about riding a bike, and he told you it was probably the sense of freedom and also calm that the open road brings him; then throwing you a wink, told you that having a pretty backpack to show off was getting up there.

Your favourite part of rides with Pero is ironically when you’re not riding at all, but when you’re stopped by the side of the road for a breather, to take in a pretty view, or if you just can’t wait to get home to sample the food you rode all that way for. You’ll sit on the backseat and Pero will sit with his back against the fuel box facing you, the shared food placed in between. As you savour the trip’s procured delicacy, Pero will pull your legs off the back peg and massage the back of your calves lovingly, melting away the tension built up from the long ride. Inevitably, he’ll start to inch his hands higher and higher; how far you let him go really depends on how horny you are that day. Most of the time, you're wet with want for Pero by this point of the ride, powerless against how adept he is at turning you on – once, while you were parked in a rest area right next to the highway, he had walked his hand up your skirt to stroke you over your soaked panties so expertly, you had been one shudder away from just letting him finger fuck you to completion while unsuspecting traffic zoomed by. You don’t tell Pero, but lately you’ve had an increasingly vivid fantasy of sinking down on his cock and riding him on his bike out in the open, public decency be damned, until you both come, moans drowned out by passing commuters who get the show of a lifetime.

As it is, sex with Pero leaves you breathless and more than fulfilled. He worships your body and reaches parts of you that you didn’t even know existed, setting you on fire with his every touch. His particular brand of filthy dirty talk combined with gruff praise, gets you shockingly wet every time; just the memory of his low baritone growling ‘good girl’ in your ear can have you distracted and fantasizing about his dick at the most inconvenient of times. More than once, you’ve had to turn off your camera during a work video call, afraid that your colleagues would be able to read your far off, cock drunk expression for what it is.

You’re definitely falling in love with him.

“Do you think it’s weird that I’ve never been to Pero’s place?” you wonder out loud. You’re not sure it bothers you, but it’s something you realized only recently.

“No? Not weird… but I didn’t know you hadn’t,” says Eloise, surprised.

Dorothy doesn’t even look up from her magazine, “No, it’s not weird at all, babe. I mean, I’m sure your place is way nicer than his.”

“Maybe. Well, I don’t know really, I guess,” you crinkle your nose.

“No, babe, it’s definitely nicer. Maybe he thinks his place isn’t good enough for you. Or maybe he’s too scared to find out if you don’t think his place is good enough for you,” Dorothy says with certainty.

You can’t imagine Pero being scared of anything, “That kind of thing doesn’t matter to me.”

“We know it doesn’t!” sympathizes Eloise, “But if you’re thinking about it, why don’t you just talk to him about it?”

You nod; you think the next time you see Pero, you will.

The next day, you make your now typical lunch time trip to visit Pero; when you walk into Lin’s lobby, it’s empty but that’s not unusual. Walking over to the reception desk where Pero works, you see that his computer is on so you decide to just wait until he comes back, unpacking a small container of snickerdoodles you brought for him in the meantime. As you put the container on the desk, you’re surprised to hear voices coming from the small alcove for the staff elevator hidden in the corner of the lobby.

“Heard you got yourself a designer pussy, Tovar.”

“Best part of working in restaurants like this is getting a shot at all these rich sluts who wouldn’t normally look twice at you on the street, but now they want to slum it with the kitchen staff.”

“Hey, come now…” That’s William’s voice, you realize; the other two you don’t recognize.

“Oh you’re a married old fart, but I’m sure you’ve got some of these wannabe trophy wives throwing themselves at you. You can’t expect us to believe you’ve never had a taste!”

“Yeah, how you can look at that piece that Tovar is tapping and not want a slice for yourself?”

“Or do you guys share her? She into that?”

“Fuck, if she’s into that, then please, please call me the next time she wants to go to Paris. Better yet, bet she’d pay for an actual trip to Paris. Chick probably has more money than she knows what to do with. Let her pay for that good dicking, yeah?”

“A couple of us have a little competition on who can bag the hottest, most desperate sugar mama from the restaurant. You want in, Tovar? There’s a prize for who can keep it running the longest too. You’ve been banging her for a few months now, so you’re a shoo in for that. So fucking easy. All you gotta do is give these dumb rich bitches a little bit of attention and they’re opening up their legs… and cheque books like that.” You hear a finger snap, followed by loud, spine-chilling cackling.

You think you’re going to be sick. You’ve never heard such misogynistic, classist, and honestly vile talk in your life; you’re about to march over to the alcove where these assholes think they’re so cleverly hidden and given them a piece of your mind when you hear Dorothy’s name.

“Your girl got that friend, Dorothy? Oh fuckkkkkkkkkk, wanna tap that snobby, entitled pussy so fucking bad. She’s always strutting around the restaurant like she owns the place; want to put her in her place… on my cock.”

“Introduce me, Tovar. Or you saving her for yourself? This skirt you’re fucking now is just a stepping stone to a bigger, richer fish? Hey! Kudos to you man, but do me a favour – when you’ve moved on and up, send that pretty thing over my way for some comforting. I’ll make sure she’s fucked so good she doesn’t even remember your name.”

You haven’t heard Pero’s voice at all during this stomach-churning exchange; you keep waiting for him to speak up and shut down this type of talk, when you hear the cruelest sound you’ve ever heard.

Pero’s laugh. He’s laughing. Then you hear William join in, and soon all four men are laughing uproariously. At you. At your friends. At women. Women who have the means to dine at this restaurant which apparently means they’re stupid, desperate, and not worth any respect or even the decency of being treated like human beings with feelings. All of this is what Pero thinks of you. Every cadence of his ongoing laugh is sharp like cruelty itself, piecing and shattering your heart. You didn’t even know there were men out there that debased and demeaned women this way; how could you have let one into your life, your bed. Your heart. They laugh for what feels like forever; you can’t stand to listen to it anymore and you flee.

---

Pero can’t help but laugh at what fucking idiots this busboy and dishwasher are. They were spewing such despicable garbage and they fucking dared to talk about you in any such derogatory way, and did so with big smug grins – did they seriously think there wouldn’t be repercussions? No fucking way anyone could be that dumb, he laughs. William joins in on the same wavelength as Pero. The laughter crescendos for a while before William catches his breath and manages to choke out, “You guys don’t even know...” Still laughing, one of the idiots manages to ask, “Know what?” And that’s when Pero goes silent, grabs the asshole by the neck and shoves him up against the wall, “You don’t even know how much shit you’re in, talking about my girl like that.”

“Hey dude, we were just kidd-,“ the busboy doesn’t even get to finish his sentence before Pero reaches out and William shoves him into Pero’s outstretch hand.

“Shut up. I talk now.”

Though gritted teeth, Pero growls menacingly, inches away from the dishwasher’s face, “You piece of shit. You don’t deserve to think about her. Talk about her. Or share the same air as her. If you ever go near her, you’ll be eating through a tube.”

He slams the busboy up against the wall next to his friend, “This is what is going to happen, William’s going to take you upstairs, and you’re going to thank him, because it was me, you’d both be losing blood before the elevator doors even closed. You will get your things, and you will never fucking set foot in this restaurant again. You’re fired. Your last cheques will be mailed to you. Never come back.”

He punctuates his point by pulling back and shoving both frightened men into the wall again, harder than before, hands firm on their throats, “…I’m this fucking close, just give me a reason to squeeze.”

“Pero.” William’s voice is barely audible through the thick cloud of rage fogging up Pero’s brain. He felt physically disgusted at the way these two morons had talked about you and that they had even thought about you in the manner they were describing. His sweet Cookie - the kindest and gentlest creature he had ever known. That these assholes had contemplated laying a finger on you made him see red. Never mind they trying to taint your friend, or any woman at all, with their gut-less filth. They had said there were others like them, he seethed; he would root them all out and deal with it today. If he could find it within himself to let go of their necks, that is.

“Pero.” William’s second attempt to bring Pero back down to earth finally ringing through. He lets go, and the two pathetic excuses for men slide down the wall they had been pinned against, gasping for air.

“Every restaurant worth working at will know what kind of shit you pull with their female patrons, don’t ever bother trying to apply for another restaurant job ever again. Get the fuck out of my face now.”

William roughly hauls the two idiots into the staff elevator and out of Pero’s sight as quickly as possible, lest Pero failed to contain his rage any longer.

Taking some deep breaths, willing himself to calm down and for his breathing to even, Pero walks back to the front desk hoping there aren’t any patrons waiting in the lobby. When he gets to his seat, his heart plummets. There, on his desk, is a container of cookies. From you. You had been here. What had you heard? It couldn’t have been anything good because you had left without making your presence known. He’s desperate to see you, comfort you. Pero frantically rushes out the front doors and looks up and down the busy sidewalk, but you’re long gone.

Fuck.

#pero tovar #pero tovar fanfiction #pero tovar fic #pero tovar x reader #pero tovar x you #pero tovar x f!reader #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal characters #modern au #modern!pero tovar #no y/n

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weirdmarioenemies · 1 year

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Name: Shy Guy (Pastry Chef)

Debut: Mario Kart Tour

I love Shy Guy :]

I love sweets and treats! I love baked goods! I even like to make them sometimes!

So a Shy Guy, wearing a chef hat, creator of pastries? This is a Kin Emergency over here!

This is such a perfect character and appeals to me so much that I’m even willing to look past the fact that he’s French-coded!

Cooking is one thing, baking is another, and pastry-making is an intensely delicate science! But we can clearly see that Shy Guy (Pastry Chef) is a master of the craft! Just churning out treats with reckless abandon! You know they’re good because good food is guaranteed to make a woman close her eyes and smile while putting her hand on her cheek. After every single bite! I can’t tell exactly what every pastry on display is, but those certain ones in the wobbly stack in Shy Guy’s right hand... could they be flans? How I hope so!

Shy Guy (Pastry Chef) takes great care to ensure that no hairs or dandruff or scales or whatever covers a Shy Guy’s scalp will end up in your food. He is wearing three whole articles of clothing on his head! That’s so difficult to do without the hat falling off! However, the big ol’ eye holes of his mask do mean that Eyes could potentially fall in your pristine tarts. But with such a prestigious fellow as this, that would be an honor!

The delight keeps on coming because Shy Guy (Pastry Chef)’s signature kart is the Carrot Cart! I love this so much! You know I love Carrot Aesthetic! A carrot is not what I would have chosen for a pastry chef (I would have chosen a rabbit, so good thing Nabbit shares this signature vehicle) but it can represent carrot cake, and of course that little frosting carrot they always put on top of it! I bet Shy Guy (Pastry Chef) is SO good at drawing a carrot out of frosting. It would look so much like a real carrot that you would bite into it expecting it to crunch and hurt your teeth. In a good way though.

Our patissier pal is not the first Shy Guy chef we have seen in the Mario franchise, though he is the most lovingly crafted! In Mario Party 8, Shy Guy’s Perplex Express has chef Shy Guys in the train’s kitchen, who are simply regular Shy Guys with hats. They stand on crates to reach the counter, which is cute, but also sad, since this train was evidently made for humans and not Shy Guys... hopefully someday the hardworking crew will be able to make the kitchen more accessible! Also the heat vent can suck people onto the roof, and that’s pretty dangerous.

I don’t think there is any chance of Shy Guy (Pastry Chef) being made playable in Mario Kart 8 Deluxe, but I think he should appear as one of the Shy Guys in cars in Coconut Mall. He came because he heard they were doing Donuts!

If you don’t feel worthy of playing as Shy Guy (Pastry Chef), that’s okay! It is important to be yourself. And with the Pastry Chef Mii Racing Suit, You, yes, You, can be his apprentice! This is one of the few racing suits not based on something ubiquitous from the Mario series, and I think that is wonderful, because it means they love Shy Guy (Pastry Chef) that much, or at least they love the concept of Pastry Chefs. I love both! Anyway, the chef hat of this outfit is a rigid helmet and that delights me.

Just as each driver in Tour has favored courses, so do Mii Racing Suits! That’s right, when you wear one of these, you are not yourself! What YOU want does not matter anymore, and you are at the mercy of your fashionable and practical outfit. Would you put on such a racing suit, knowing it would warp your mind, making you drawn hopelessly to the likes of Paris Promenade 2 R/T Version, even if you would not think much of the course otherwise?

Mii Racing Suits are scary! The helmets control your mind and zap your brain if you try to resist! The suits move your limbs for you! Have to go to the bathroom? Too bad! Your suit has other plans, you’re going to Donut Plains 2 and you’re going to like it! Have fun in the Mii Tour coming soon to Mario Kart Tour.

#shy guy #shy guy pastry chef #shy guy (pastry chef)#mario #mario kart #mario kart tour #mii #mii racing suit #pastry chef #mod chikako

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gattnk · 3 months

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Terence and Scarlett, the youngest Deans in this Golden School's history. What kind of future do you think they'll bring?

I'm back on track my lovelies! Or rather, I never really left the AF train: I just needed some time to plan things out. I've sketched out the rest of the school staff, but I'll give priority to finishing chapter 5. Not gonna lie, I only finished these two first because I fell so in love with their designs I couldn't resist sharing them sooner!

Back in the early days of my production bible, I established the Golden School would offer other courses unrelated to guardian angels/devils; both the comic and S2 of the show inspired this concept. I came up with five faculties in total, with a pair of canon teachers at the helm of each. This is how Terence and Scarlett became my Academic Deans of the Tech and Support faculty.

Tech and Support is an engineering faculty: they're the mechanics behind mascots, vehicles like auto-spheres and motor-spikes, and pretty much every piece of angel/devil infrastructure on Earth. I chose Terence and Scarlett specifically because they're the least established teachers we see in canon. Simply put, they were the only teachers with enough wiggle room to fit the bill.

I took a long, hard look at what Terence and Scarlett were supposed to be in the series: the young, hip, hot new teachers in town when they first show up in the movie, the kind that make their younger students swoon and maybe stir some love trouble indirectly with their presence. I could definitely work with that!

Terence's original design looked like the kind of guy who brings an acoustic guitar to a college party, which is a very... 2000s kind of "hot". He needed an upgrade, stat. So I went on a quest and found that hunks are in vogue now, which is fine by me! And so a hunky engineer he became, with a high-visibility coverall, work boots, tool-bags and a helmet. He got to keep some stubble and his long hair (tied up in a ponytail for safety reasons) as a recall to his original design.

Scarlett's original design screams femme fatale, which is great for eye candy but not very practical when handling machinery. So I decided to gear her properly: strong-material overalls and shirt, work boots, welding gloves and safety goggles, protective horn cuffs, short hair and no jewelry (seriously, avoid wearing dangly bits like loose hair or jewelry when you're in a workshop). Properly geared women in STEM are, or so I'm told, pretty hot :v So mission accomplished!

While Terence and Scarlett's role in my rewrite is no longer to act as a romantic wedge between Raf and Sulfus, I ended up giving them shared traits with my Raf and Sulfus redesigns. It has a narrative purpose I won't disclose for now, but if you were wondering why they feel like grown-up genderbent versions of the protagonists, now you know.

Their new colors are pretty much a mash-up of their canon palette and my usual colors for angels and devils. I wanted to subvert expectations a bit however, so I gave Terence a red halo and wings and Scarlett blue horns and wings. They're the same hue as each other's eyes for entirely aesthetic reasons.

Honestly, it's been real fun so far to work on the teachers! I love working on side characters, there's more room to explore in terms of design because there's less expectations surrounding them. I'll do my best to finish the next chapter of I'll Fly With You as soon as possible so I can work on the rest of them, and maybe I'll get to finish more AFapril pages before April comes back around lol.

#my art tag #angel's friends #angels friends #IFWY #character redesign #terence #scarlett

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monsterblogging · 4 months

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Quotes from the Pacific Rim commentary re: Guillermo del Toro's aesthetic decisions

"You cannot do world creation without filling in with texture and detail."

...

"People think that world creation - movie, for example - is the big gestures. But it isn't. It's all this small details. Look at the markings. Look at the vehicles that open the doors. Look at the banners and the markings in the crawler that moves the robot. Everything is full of detail. We designed this."

....

"We going to what I call gothic tech, or goth tech. Which is to go right away into a world that is rusting, that is in decay, where you have the concrete is cheap, the paint is chipping off, the armors in the robots is dented, it's sort of pitted and they feel like knights, like these ancient knights, and we start accumulating, for example, atmosphere."

...

"I wanted the movie to be very romantic, but not romantic in the Harlequin novel sense or the romance novel sense of the word. I wanted it to be romantic in its epicness. You know, I wanted it to feel like an opera. I wanted it to feel dramatic. So instead of doing this in a well-lit street in New York I wanted this first fight to happen in an almost like, the middle of a romantic painting, like Caspar David Friedrich is a romantic painter I adore. And I wanted very much for it to happen in the rain in the middle of a tempest in an ocean where the waves are crashing into them. And the water throughout the movie becomes an incredibly complex expressive element."

...

"We're going to go from the biggest, the widest, to the little bug of a pilot crawling out of the helmet. Isolate Raleigh. You know, we isolate Raleigh. I'm telling the story: Look at the markings on his suit, the burn marks on his skin, those are going to become scars that he's going to carry for the rest of the movie. And I'm telling you this is when we started losing. This was the price for arrogance, this was the price for youth, and we're staining the white with red. I'm trying to build a character not just by the work of the actor, but by the storytelling with audiovisual elements."

...

"And look at this, Raleigh's all introduced in this one color, he'd golden, gold colors, and he's all coated in warm greens and earth tones and the light that is bathing him is always golden, and it's about that color coming together with Mako's dominant color, and Pentecost in this case, which is connected with Mako, which are blue."

...

"So this, we come to the scene where they meet for the first time. And I have color-coded this scene entirely in those two colors, in the blue and the ambers. You know, the bright ambers and the blue, the sort of cyan blue. And this is Mako meeting Raleigh, so the entire thing needs to be color-coded like that. And Mako's blue, because I'm making her origin to the kaiju, the kaiju blue, the blood of the kaiju - but also you will see in a few minutes a memory. A memory that is all color-coded in blue and splashes of red in her past as a child. And that blue has stained her hair. Even her hair has this strands of blue because she cannot get rid of that memory. She carries it in her."

...

"We color-coded, for example, the Chinese robot, we color-coded it red and gold and is patterned after medieval armor, and it needs to feel Chinese in essence, it needs to respond to martial arts movements; its musical theme is very strong."

...

"And here again we have now a robot, a Jaeger, that is designed, a mech that is designed to resemble a T-series Russian tank, color-coded like that, with like a cooling tower from a nuclear reactor on top."

...

"And we introduce Striker Eureka, the Australian Jaeger, which is designed a little bit like an all-terrain vehicle and color-coded with the outback camouflage colors and is the most masculine of the robots, of the Jaegers, of the mech, and is very much testosterone-driven."

...

"We talked about the color red; well, here it becomes very important. We have these characters fighting that is very very color-coded to be warm; we have a lot of reddish art direction here. We color-coded this arena in black and red. The stakes, the wood, the machines, the color of the light hitting the machines, the symbols on the wall, everything is permeated with red. Because again, I wanted red to symbolize sort of the heart. And Mako's going to find her heart and Raleigh's going to find his heart, or life, by connecting with Mako. We saw him bleeding - the last time we saw red with any importance other than the Chinese robot was when he was bleeding in the beach."

...

"And again, red coming in and linking these three characters; these three characters are the heart of the movie, you know. And blood for nobility and mortality is what makes us human. And Pentecost and Raleigh and Mako are the heart of the film."

...

"And now we start bringing, literally, bringing the crazy colors into the film. I wanted to color code this movie, bring it as close as possible to a living anime, or a living incarnation of a magazine that was very important for me growing up, which is Heavy Metal with Angus McKie, Richard Corben, Chris Foss, all these guys working with super primary colors, and I wanted to bring that saturation of colors to this, and for that I needed Hannibal Chau to meet Newt in Hong Kong."

...

"In shooting the film, we then came to the final moment and again, these three characters, Mako, Raleigh, and Pentecost, which have existed in a blue-amber world start to come to a red space, you know? This is the first time we used this red space properly in this film. Other than the Chinese robot, we were very careful with not coding anything in red. But now, at the end of the adventure, everybody's coming away. And at the end of the life, at the end of their life, that is Mako, Raleigh, everybody's gonna find this light is red. And now I can talk to you about the way I sort of organized the three fights for Raleigh. I wanted one fight with the kaiju to be the fight where he loses someone. He loses his brother in the beginning. That's where he bleeds red, you know? Then the second fight in Hong Kong is where he gains a partner. He loses a partner in the first fight, he gains a partner on the second fight. And in this final fight, he saves that partner. So, it's a full circle. I show him in the construction area in the beginning sitting in a sort of throne of concrete, if you remember, when he meets Pentecost; he made an incomplete circle. And here he completes that circle."

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buddyup1 · 6 months

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JJ's Aesthetic Helmet Series ✨

night rogue / jack revice / deep specter / evol bhf / destream / Ghost Mugen / zangetsu shin / wizard infinity / gotchard / saga

#kamen rider ghost #kamen rider #tokusatsu #toku #my gifs #krggggggg #aesthetic helmet series

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breadnabreadd · 9 months

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✦ Oh boy! Here we go.

I created a LMK Au just for funsies. A furutistic, high technologic world with cyberpunk vibes! (Because I absolutely love this type of aesthetic)

✦ the picture above is just a quick drawing I did of Macaque in this AU. I will get into details about the AU while showing a few infos of a few LMKs characters alongside with their designs. (Just a reminder I'm still creating the AU and it's my first time making one. It might be a little messy, so I apologize if it gets too messy--)

Oh! And by the way, the characters on this AU follow the same basic formula as the original characters. So it doesnt have much changes, other than the world they live in, their clothes and a few events.

✦ MK, The Monkie Kid

• Its the same thing as our little MK from the animated series, he works at Pigsy's Noodles as a delivery boy, is the Monkey king's biggest fan and is his successor and pretty much the basic stuff.

• He learned about the Monkey king with Mister Tang. He is a huge fan.

• Tho he isn't a great expert, he knows how to how to fix computer cases, machines and vehicles and build stuff by using old pieces (he learned with Pigsy and Sandy, just in case his delivery vehicle breaks in the middle of the road or a something start malfunctioning in the noodle store). As we can see, he works more in the hardware part.

• He likes to collect the old pieces of old devices that people throw away in the city's old graveyard. It's like a type of recycling. (That's also how he find the Monkey king's staff but that is a thing I will tell in details in another day--)

• He loves to draw!!! Hooray!!! He also likes to play games. Is always playing video games with his best friend, Mei, on the arcade or online.

✦ Mei, The White Horse Dragon Girl

• She's a programmer/developer of softwares (Yes I know that in I drawing I said she's a "hacker but a bit clumsy" but actually i wanted to say shes a programmer. I was sleepy, it was 2 am, and my brain wasn't braining 😰😰😰---) with a few knowledge about hardwares. She created her technological helmet system with MK's help. (Her helmet it's similiar to Iron man's helmet from inside.)

• She built her own motorcycle, again with MK's help. She participates a lot motorcycles race just for funsies.

• Loves to play games. I guess I could say she is quite of a professional gamer? She play to win. But when she is playing with MK or with other friends, she doesnt care losing or winning, she only cares about enjoying some quality time with them.

✦ Liu'er Mihou, The Six Eared Macaque.

• Pretty much same as the original Macaque. (Lost his eye in the past with a fight against Sun Wukong. Omg betrayal. Yknow the deal-)

• Here he is a Hacker/Cracker.

"But what is a cracker?" You may ask. Now it's time for my nerd/TI studant side take over. A cracker it's a mean hacker. The cracker breaks/attacks the systems and webs for their own benefit, which it's for illegal purposes. Now a Hacker it's actually a job, which their purpose its to find the security breaches and ways to how break it, so then they can make the security stronger and prevent invasions/attacks at the system.

With that being said, Macaque is a hacker/cracker. So he makes defense systems to himself and breaks into other systems for illegal purposes.

• He got these gloves that helps him hack things better, he created it himself. He create floating holograms like it's a tablet screen and can hold on these holograms using these gloves. With a simple touch he can steal database from a device and hack it's system. (He can hack machines, computers, tech weapons and even the light system.)

• He got his shadow magic too, same as the original one. Shadow clones, shadow portals... but he kinda makes a fusion between his magic and the technology he invented to himself. (Before anyone say it. YES! I got heavily inspired by Sombra from Overwatch. 😔)

✦ The Monkey King, Sun Wukong

• Yeah, the Monkey king. The great sage equal to heaven. The silly who made a havoc on heaven---

• HE GOT THAT HUGE MECHA WE SAW IN THE ANIMATED SERIES BECAUSE HE DOESNT LIKE USING HIS KAIJU FORM !!!

But he doesnt use the mecha much. It has been CENTURIES since he last use it. Now MK is the one who uses it because he is Sun Wukong's successor.

• That's not his "Monkey King" royal clothes. It just some casual/comfy clothes to use in everyday life.

• He already knew who MK was. MK is a stone Monkey just like himself. Wukong have been watching the kid grow up from far. He grow a bit attached to the boy.

Sun Wukong surely wasn't expecting to MK being able to lift his golden staff, so he think in the opportunity to make him his sucessor and teach him how to use his new powers. (Yes, I was lisiting to "the horse and the infant" song. How did you kn--)

Oh God. That explanation was long.

✦ Welp, that's all for today!

I will post more stuff about the AU in the future. And I still need to think a name for it...

It is clear I got heavily inspired by Cyberpunk, techwear, overwatch, New Gods: Nezha reborn, Arcane and other stuff. I'm sorry, BUT I ABSOLUTELY LOVE THAT AESTHETIC AND VIBES!! HHHHHHH-

✦ I'm a huge nerd. 🤓

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gamie99 · 4 months

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Skibidi Grammar: A Brief Amateur Study

Because I honestly have nothing better to do. We studying the Skibidi writing system up in this bitch 🔥🔥

(Spoilers for Episode 70 Part 2 below! Proceed with caution!)

In the latter half of Episode 70 Part 2, Plungerman picks up this document in what I'm calling 'the hardware artifact room', featuring what is very clearly the written form of the language used by the Skibidi Toilets. This honestly kind of shocked me (the toilets have a writing system??) but at the same time it doesn't - every intelligent civilization, no matter how absurd, has to have some way to keep records handy, especially one as advanced as the toilets.

Unfortunately, due to the fact that we obviously can't translate the Skibidi language, the exact nature or contents of this document are completely unclear. However, I'm going to analyze what we can see and understand anyway, because that's fun and I have horrific brainrot. LET'S BEGIN!!

But before we start analyzing the actual text itself, I'd like to quickly get the two photos on the document out of the way:

The first photo is of the Scientist Toilet, with some weird round thing behind him that kind of looks like an airplane engine. His photo is apparently captioned, written in red and in larger text than the rest of the text on the document. What is the caption? Is that his legal name?? Again, it's completely unclear.

The second photo depicts an Astro Toilet - his style of helmet makes it obvious. What isn't obvious, however, is who this Astro Toilet is. He isn't the one from Part 1, and he doesn't resemble the other two Astro Toilets we've seen before either - all of their helmets are different. If I'm not mistaken, this is the fourth Astro Toilet we've seen in the series, and looking at where we currently are at, he definitely won't be the last.

Why these two are featured on this document is, again, unknown. But we can deduce that the Astro Toilets and the Scientist Toilet are connected in a very important way.

Now, with that out of the way, time to actually analyze the written toilet language!!

The Skibidi language is written in all caps, and makes obvious use of some of the characters from the Greek alphabet - you might be familiar with a few if you've taken any kind of advanced math in school. This seems to be purely for aesthetic reasons, seeing as how the Greek letter Ψ is used in place of the Latin letter Y in 'YES' when Ψ makes the 'ps' sound. I ain't gonna complain though. I love doing shit for the sake of 'make it Fancy™'.

A couple of the words are underlined, which wouldn't be too strange by itself, if not for the fact that some of the words are also overlined (this can most clearly be seen in the first 'SKIBIDI' in the second paragraph). Some kind of punctuation or markings to denote proper nouns, maybe? I don't know.

Speaking of punctuation (kinda), we have some symbol usage in the form of {}! They're used to surround a set of words in the second paragraph ({DOB YES YES}).

< and > also make an appearance! In the second paragraph, they're used to separate two words (SKIBIDI<>DOM), and in the third paragraph, they're used to surround four words (>SKIBIDI SKIBIDI SKIB IDI<). Again, no idea what purpose these symbols have - maybe they have a similar function to the {} we see here?

And now, for some various other interesting things I've noticed!

The first four lines of the first paragraph is the classic unaltered Skibidi chant. Neato!

There's a lot of variety in the community when it comes to spelling the word "DOP". This document features three different spellings - 'DOP', 'DOM', and 'DOB' - which I suppose makes them all correct! There's also the word 'DIP' that's featured here too.

There's a random upside down A in one of the words in the second paragraph (it's a bit hard to read due to the faded text, but I can best Latinize it as 'YES∀SKIBIDI'). Interesting!

'BRRR' and 'BRRRRH' are words. Hahaha!

And that's about all I have to say about the Skibidi written language! Moral of the story: ...uh, man, my brainrot is horrible right now have a good day everyone LMFAOOOO

#skibidi toilet #skibidi toilet analysis #...holy shit that's a lot of words #hey somebody get the word count of this thing #i need it for science

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parkerharker · 2 months

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I’m rewatching X-Men (2000) and was curious when it was added to the comics that Magneto’s helmet was to block Charles’s telepathy. That was an idea created for this film which I think we all agree was a fantastic change.

So, first: Mark Millar added the concept to Ultimate X-Men in 2001. However, I think it is important to note that Millar had literally never read an X-Men comic when he wrote Ultimate X-Men. He had seen the first film and based his series on that, and since it’s a universe unique from the primary 616 Marvel universe I am not counting it.

My thought was “Well, it had to have been added soon after that in 616, right?” WRONG. New X-Men which took clear inspiration from Ultimate and the films didn’t do it despite featuring a concealed Magneto for much of the run. That was my first thought. It wasn’t until a Magneto miniseries in 2014 when they state it out loud that Magneto’s helmet serves a purpose beyond the aesthetic. Red Skull is the first character to say what the helmet does. Which kinda sucks!!! Red Skull should not be the person telling the audience new Magento lore! But that’s a different can of worms. Just thought this was interesting and worth sharing! Read comics!!

#marvel #comics #xmen #magneto #charles xavier #ultimate xmen #new xmen #red skull

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aikoiya · 1 year

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Jazz as Altair (The Bluebird of Gotham)

This is based on @tireduniversityscam's Halfa Jazz with Parent Syndrome au, a.k.a. BrucexJazz & @lordgrimoire's Bluebird vigilante Jazz.

I'm thinking that Jazz's vigilante name could be either Altair after the bluebird star (as homage to her brother, the astronerd) or just simply The Bluebird. As bluebirds represent hope, love, renewal, optimism, joy, as well as symbolizing the essence of life & beauty. Not to mention Immortality.

Also, seeing a bluebird after a death represents that the soul of your lost loved one has reached the afterlife. So, seeing her tends to give comfort to those who've lost loved ones.

I see her looking like this:

But maybe with her hair more resembling mist instead of water should her main element be wind instead of water to go with the bluebird aesthetic. Same color, but mist.

Here's a close up of her hat:

I see her using a Fenton Whiplash (just an anti-ecto whip) or just being able to form her ectoplasm into a whip. Either/or.

Also, this mask:

This is her with the mask:

If not a trenchcoat, then a blue cape that fans out to look like bird wings when she's flying. Like the Roc's Cape from LoZ: Minish Cap.

I always hc'd that she'd have psychic empathy, minor clairvoyance, minor mindreading, & telekinesis as a halfa cus it seems the sort of thing she'd have. She comes across as very psychic oriented.

Plus, Spectral Acknowledgement, which is a fun power:

Again, her primary core element could be either water or wind.

I see her having a ghost sense, it being a family thing. However, hers would be different based on her element. If water, it works like sonar & is more close range than Danny's & when it goes off, her eyes get watery, a single stream of tears falling from her eyes. I don't know how it'd manifest with wind, though.

I see Jazz taking the role of a medium as a vigilante. Helping Shades to move on. The Shades I think of is inspired by the ghosts from the Blackwell games & when doing medium things, Jazz tends to do similar things as in the game. Helping the Shades to get to a point where they can move on, which can result in them becoming ecto-ghosts later. However, helping Shades to fulfill whatever is keeping them on earth makes it less likely for them to become ecto-ghosts & more likely to move onto whatever is next. If she just fights them & sucks them up into a thermos, they're more likely to turn into ecto-ghosts & possibly come back. The reason being that emotional attachments, unfinished business, & so on, causes strong, often distressed emotions, which attracts ectoplasm & causes it to stick to a soul. The more ectoplasm sticks to a soul, eventually it'll form a core which is how ecto-ghosts come into being. At least, when spirits of the dead are involved.

For more on the formation of ghosts, go here:

Seriously, the Blackwell series is great & you should definitely go play it or watch someone else play it.

Anyway, Jazz does regular vigilante stuff too, but I feel like this would give her a bit of mystique as a hero. It also meshes well with her therapist focus.

I see her originally patrolling from just before midnight to just after dawn, but after Duke joins, she extended her schedule to midday in case he needs help. She works between midnight & dawn because that's the timeframe where ghosts, spirits, shades, & other such spectral entities are the strongest & cause the most disturbances with 3:00 am being when it peaks.

As for Jason as the Cardinal, I think this would look good for his mask:

Also, one of these hooded jackets:

They're freaking badass!

No helmet & give him a red bird symbol on his chest.

Everything else could match with the second jacket's outfit though.

This is also a really cool design for halfa Jason:

I love the design for his hair, especially the little shadowy flame for that little tuft.

I just really like the idea of Jason with shadow powers, like from @dxrksong.

One of his powers is being able to control his shadow. However, he doesn't have full-on umbramancy. Rather, like I said, he can only control his shadow. At the same time, he can cover himself in it for added protection & it gives him an aura like black flames licking over his skin. He can also make shadowy claws out of them for added melee. It's metal af, okay?

His shadow is controlled entirely by his wants, so it can do a lot of things similar to what Dr. Facilier could in Princess & the Frog.

While he can't control the shadows of others, if he makes his shadow touch other shadows, like if his shadow strangled another person's shadow, it'd result in the owner of said shadow choking for real.

At the same time, saving one's self from said shadow is as simple as shining a bright light all around themselves so that the shadow can't come near.

If they're in an alley at night with no lights, then the shadow can navigate the walls & surfaces unseen as it blends in perfectly.

Can also merge with his shadow & travel through shadows or jump from shadowy spot to shadowy spot.

Also, All-Blades are necessary. I dunno how, but they are.

#danny phantom #dp #dc #dp x dc #batman #jazz fenton #bruce wayne #jazz x bruce #parent syndrome #the bluebird #altair #halfa jazz #the cardinal #jason todd #aikoiya art

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astralisbelle · 1 year

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Dead Man's Hand 13 - It's Never Enough

Dead Man's Hand Masterlist tags: engineer!reader, gambler!reader, loose canon timeline, eventual smut, fluff, action, casino aesthetics, touch starved reader, touch starved din, reader and din get on each other’s nerves, also they’re idiots, defrosting ice king din, cinderella vibes, everybody loves grogu

chapter summary: They have a talk and she's determined to keep going. Unfortunately, there are other obstacles in their way.

notes: we've reached 1000 likes, 100 reblogs, and over 50 followers omg thank you all SO SO much. I love writing Mando content so I'm already thinking about what I can write next once this series wraps up. feel free to drops suggestions or requests in my ask box :) thank you again!

Grogu’s eyes regain focus and he smacks his lips, blinking away the rest of his tiredness. He makes a little squeak as he stretches his arms out, rubbing his eyes.

He hoists himself out of his pram and surveys the room, lit by the late morning sun. His big ears twitch when he hears the stream of the shower in the bathroom. Must be his father, seeing as how his armor is still laid out on the table. Speaking of table, he sees a tray two plates, one missing food and the other still covered. Did his dad order breakfast? Is there anything for him?

Oh, but he doesn’t want to eat alone. He waddles towards the bedroom door, wanting to go wake her up. Maybe she’ll let him take another bath with her too. Once the door opens, he climbs onto the bed and babbles towards her. She sleeps on her stomach, blanket covering her shoulders. Grogu walks towards her head and pats on her cheek. He coos, hoping the sound of his voice will wake her up.

“Mmgh…” She moans a little, stirring. A yawn escapes her as her eyes flutter open. “Mm… Grogu?” She pushes herself to sit up, the blanket slipping off her shoulders. It’s only now that she remembers she’s naked and quickly covers her chest. “Grogu!”

The child just tilts his head, confused at her reaction.

Memories flood back into her mind. It all happened in complete darkness, but each sound, each touch, each sensation was clear. So that… that really happened. Din and I… Her face reddens and she clamps her hand over her mouth to muffle a yelp. She looks over her shoulder… no Din. Oh Stars, he didn’t leave, did he? Wait, of course not, Grogu is still here. “Where’s…”

Grogu makes a noise and points towards the bathroom. Now that she strains her ear, she hears the shower turn off. Her heart immediately races. Grogu nudges her again, babbling and pointing towards the door. “Okay, okay. I’m coming.” She gulps and slips off the bed, wrapping the bed sheet around her torso. As she does, she winces and mouths a quiet “ow.” Why am I so sore — right…

Grogu leads the way, more interested in the food waiting for them. She lifts a brow. Food? Did… Din order this? She notices one plate is already finished. Sitting down, she uncovers the other plate, steam escaping and revealing a hearty plate of breakfast. Grogu jumps onto her lap, reaching for the small bites that he can shovel into his mouth. “You go ahead, kid,” she says, listening to the sounds behind the bathroom door. “I don’t think I can eat yet…”

She isn’t sure how this is going to go, but she doubts it’ll end in anything other than the Mandalorian telling her to forget about it, that it never happened. And will never happen again. She was, after all, just being selfish. Maybe he hates her for it. Her stomach feels too tight to accept any food, so she just waits in agony.

The door opens. She lifts her head and he steps out, helmet blocking any indication of his emotion. He’s fully dressed, apart from the beskar he needs to put back on. His heavy gait towards them makes her heart race and her mouth dry. Without a word, he sits down across from them, reaching for his armor and putting it on, piece by piece.

Nothing? He’s going to say nothing? She grits her teeth. “Okay, fine.” She breaks the silence. “I’ll make this easy for you, Mando.”

The use of the nickname stops his hands. He faces her. “What?”

“Let’s just forget about it,” she says, her eyes darting to the side, her voice wavering. “Pretend it never happened. I’m sorry. I… I shouldn’t have…”

Din’s chest heavies. Grogu is too busy eating to listen in on the conversation, but where he sits doesn’t go unnoticed. He even offers her a piece of fruit that she politely declines. “...Why?” Din asks.

“’Why?’ I…” She sighs, her hand running through her head. “Isn’t this… what you want?”

“When did I say that?”

She blinks in surprise. “You… don’t want that?”

“I…” Now it’s his turn to avert his gaze, even though he knows she can’t see his eyes. He rubs the back of his neck. “Oh boy…” He sounds stressed. “You… don’t regret it?”

“I-I don’t!” She shakes her head. “I th-thought you would regret it. I thought… I was being selfish. That I forced you into it and-and that you didn’t want to and—”

“Hey, hey, slow down.” He lifts a hand. “It’s okay. You weren’t being selfish. If anything, it was me.” He looks at Grogu, knowing it wouldn’t be the first time.

“Oh…” She cracks a smile, relief written in her visage. “S-So… what does that mean? If we’re… both selfish?”

“Well… the kid and I know a thing or two about that.” Grogu looks up with a gleam in his eye. It was selfish for Din to go back for him in the first place. It was selfish to endanger others just to rescue him from Moff Gideon. It was selfish for Grogu to leave Luke to return to him. At some point, it stops being selfish and becomes something else entirely. “So it wasn’t… bad?”

“Bad? Are you kidding me? It was...” She stops herself from sounding too giddy, considering the fact that Grogu is still present. And Din knows that he understands more than he lets on. “It was wonderful, Din.”

He grins. “G...Good…” Now that that’s taken care of: “Pack your things,” he says to her. “We’re going to leave.”

Her smiles drops. “Leave? Why? The tournament isn’t over.”

“I know.” He secures his vambrace. “But I’m not putting you in any more danger.”

“Hey! Wait just a minute!” She almost stands up, but Grogu is planted firmly on her lap. “You got rid of the danger, didn’t you? There’s just me and the Twi’lek now. I’m so close!”

“You were almost killed.” He stands. “You wanna walk around with a target on your back?”

“Oh, like you don’t?”

“That’s different. I’m a Mandalorian, I’m a bounty hunter. I know how to fend for myself.”

She huffs in frustration. “So I’m just supposed to give up now?”

“There’s other beskar in the galaxy. I’ll figure it out.”

Now she stands, carrying Grogu in her arms. “You listen to me, Din… I don’t know your last name—”

“Djarin.”

She blinks. “Really?” How pretty — not now! “You listen to me, Din Djarin!” Grogu giggles. “I didn’t come all the way here, get hit on, felt up, threatened, a blaster on my face, all to just give up right when I’m so close to the finish line!”

Din takes a step back. Felt up? “Wait… when did you get…?” His blood starts to boil.

She waves her hand. “It was Besporos, the trust fund kid. Said he’d give me some beskar if I went on a date, but we all see how that turned out. Anyway, I didn’t go through all of that for you to tell me to forget about it.” She takes a step forward. “I need to win this… for me. Don’t you get that?”

He resigns himself, lowering his head. “Of course I can.”

“Then it’s settled.” Another step forward. “But…” She lifts her hand, cupping the side of his helmet. “I do think it’s sweet that you care.” Din tenses out of instinct, but he breathes out and dares to lean into the touch. How he wishes he could feel it on his skin again… The best he can do is hold her hand, thumb brushing against her wrist. The bed sheet drapes around her makes her look like a work of art, like a statue that only he can admire.

He fantasizes about the curtain of night being drawn and carrying her back, their clothes on the floor leaving no barriers. Din never imagined he could feel so close to another person like that.

Grogu coos, tilting his head and giving him a look. Din knows the kid can’t talk yet, but he says enough with his expressions: what’s happening between you and her?

“Urm.” Din clears his throat loudly, pulling away.

She walks back to the table, setting Grogu down on it so he can continue eating. “I’m going to freshen up.” He nods, watching her walk towards the bathroom door. “The door’ll be unlocked, okay?” She winks, clicking her tongue before she walks in. Din’s throat tightens and he clenches his jaw. Din sinks into the couch and tries to shoo away those thoughts while Grogu eats.

He recalls how he once mused to himself that Grogu would be the death of him. Now he thinks the same thing of her, but for entirely different reasons.

---

Her bath that afternoon is long. She savors it knowing that it’ll be the last time she gets to experience such luxury before leaving Canto Bight. Kriff, she hasn’t even decided where she wants to go after this… It doesn’t have to be Tatooine, that much she knows. What if she stays here? Or maybe goes somewhere else fancy, like Coruscant? A whole galaxy is at her disposal. So, instead of being alone on Tatooine, you wanna be alone somewhere else?

She sinks into the tub.

Of course, her heart knows exactly where she wants to go. Could she do it? Travel the galaxy, hop from one place to the next, not knowing what the next day would bring? Hell, that sounds amazing. And it wouldn’t matter where she went, as long as she had them.

Slow down. Maybe… maybe focus on winning the tournament first.

She finishes her bath and walks to the bedroom to pick her outfit for that night. As she goes through the many dresses that stylist left her, she notices that the hotel staff had put her Tatooine clothes on a hanger, its dull brown colors looking even muddier next to the vibrant ones. Taking it off the rack, she notices that it’s been scrubbed clean of dirt and sweat, even smelling nice.

The corner of her lips curls up. It was fun dressing up like a rich noble the past few days, but something about wearing her normal clothes seems right for tonight.

“Okay,” she says, stepping out of the bedroom. “I’m ready.”

Din looks up, a little surprised that she came out in her regular clothes. The last time he had seen her in those, they were bickering and biting each other’s heads off. Yet, he knows she’s still the girl from last night, the one that pulled him into her arms and accepted him entirely. She’s still just as beautiful. “Then let’s go.”

Walking across the casino is like wading through tar. Hundreds of people watch them, congest the walkways as they stare and whisper. She meets their gazes with a firm look, her hand clutching his wrist. As they near the room of the tournament, they hear arguing from inside.

“Oh boy,” she says. “This could get ugly.”

Inside, Dastiv shouts at his bodyguards while the Twi’lek and the other competitors watch, occasionally joining in. As soon as the casino owner sees the three of them walk in, his face reddens with rage and he points towards them. “You!” he shouts. “I want you out of my casino! Out!”

“Tournament’s not over,” she says, hiding the rising rage in her voice.

“Oh, yes it is.” Dastiv hisses. “I’ve already made the decision.”

“What?” She glares.

“You — or rather, your friend — murdered Bras Luum, another competitor! You are disqualified!”

The crowd around them gasps. “What?! That’s not fair!” she shouts. “He tried to murder me first! And you!” She points at him, her finger right in his face. “You helped him!”

“I’d watch your tone, scum. You’re lucky I’m not calling for your arrest.” Din is ready to step between them before she puts a hand on his arm, stopping him.

“Afraid the New Republic’s gonna investigate into your friend? Yeah, that might not look good.” She seethes with fury. “I don’t want to be here a second longer, but you’ll let me finish this tournament if you know what’s good for you.”

“No can do.” He takes a step back. “I’ve already called it. Your winnings have been added to the final pot. And since there are no more competitors, I shall declare Hadira Vossall the winner of this tournament!” The Twi’lek woman narrows her eyes at Dastiv, not appearing the least bit excited about this development. “She will receive the entire pot and the beskar.”

She pales, feeling her heart break in two. “So it’s decided…”

“Yes.” Dastiv smiles smugly. “Glad you understand.”

Her hand twitches. “Yeah… means I won’t feel bad about doing this.” She takes her fist and swings with all her might, punching him right in the face, the crowd gasping in response while Grogu giggles. “That’s for drugging me, you bastard!” Din sees that her fist is cocked for another cross and he catches her hands, pulling her back.

“That’s enough. He’s not worth it.”

Dastiv holds his cheek, spitting out some blood onto his hand. “My tooth! She broke my tooth!”

Din glares at him. “You’re lucky she didn’t break more. C’mon.”

She wishes she could delight in the sight more, but the heartbreak was too much. Not only did she lose the beskar, but all of her winnings… Everything that she worked for was gone. She bites down on her lip as Din leads her away, holding back the tears. “I’ve had enough of this city,” she tells him as they reach the casino’s exit. “Let’s get out of here.”

Just as the doors slide open, they hear a feminine voice call “wait!” The trio looks back, seeing a young, green Twi’lek girl run up to them. “Miss. I come on behalf of my mistress, Lady Vossall. She would very much like to extend a formal invitation for you and your friends.”

She blinks, exchanging a look of confusion with the Mandalorian. “That’s… generous, I suppose. What for?”

“She did not say. She told me only to make sure you did not leave. If you are interested, please come to the penthouse in one hour.” She tells them how to find it, then she bows and leaves them be.

Din looks to her. “It’s up to you,” he says. “We can leave right now if you want.”

She takes the time to think. Why would Hadira want to see her? Maybe they could negotiate for the beskar so far. If they could get it, then she wouldn’t care about the money loss. It’s worth a shot. “You think it’s a trap?”

“She just won the tournament. I doubt it, but then again… I don’t trust anyone.”

“If it is, then at least we’ll escape it together. What do you think, Grogu?” He coos in affirmation.

---

Hadira Vossall’s penthouse sits on the top floor, overlooking the rest of Canto Bight. The first thing they notice is how warm it is, like a steam bath almost. If Din’s helmet weren’t specialized, it would have fogged up his visor. There are luscious green plants and flowers lining the hallways, alongside works of art and various artifacts. A servant leads them further into a spacious yet quiet room with a grand table in the center and a fountain on the back wall. At the head of the table, Hadira rises from her chair to greet them, stating the girl’s full name.

“That’s me,” she says. “Thank you for inviting us. You have…” she scans around. “A really lovely home.”

“Thank you.” Hadira walks around the table, servants following her. She walks like a queen… “I don’t know what transpired between you and Bras,” she says, folding her hands together. “And frankly, I don’t care.” She stops in front of them, a calm expression on her face. “Allow me to explain something to you. I don’t need to gamble for money. I do it because I love it, because I’m good at it. And I love winning… but you know what I don’t love?” She frowns. “Winning by default.”

She nods. “I… see.”

“I could tell that Dastiv had already made up his mind, but he cannot control what I do in my own residence. So, I ask you.” She once again uses her full name. “Would you kindly indulge in a game of sabacc with me?”

She blinks in surprise. “Wh-what?” Her heart swells in elation. “Really?”

“Indeed. I will gladly give you your earnings. However.” She holds up a hand. “Now that the beskar is in my hands, I ask that you provide something equal in value for the buy-in.”

At that, her face turns pensive. “I… I don’t have anything like that…”

Hadira grins. “Perhaps you don’t. But the Mandalorian does.” She turns to Din. “For five ingots of beskar, I believe his full set of armor serves an equal value.”

“No!” She shakes her head. “I-I can’t ask D– Mando to do that for me. It’s–”

Din says her name. He puts a firm hand on her shoulder and leans in so his voice through the modulator only reaches her ears. “Can you win?”

“I-I don’t know,” she stutters out. “She’s really good and… no, no, I can’t gamble with your armor—”

“Can you win?” he asks again, firmer. She closes her eyes, focusing on his voice, on his hand. “When you woke up this morning, did you think that you could win.”

“...Yes.”

“Is it any different now?”

“It’s your armor, Din.” She presses her temple against his. “I could never lose that.”

“...Then don’t.” He gives her shoulder a squeeze. “Go ahead. Play.”

She opens her eyes and gives him a look of pure determination, her brows fixed, her eyes brimming. A firm nod is all he needs to pull away. She faces Hadira.

“Let’s play.”

#the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfic #the mandalorian x you #din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian #work: dead man's hand #fun fact #i like to think din put the blanket on mc before leaving #heheeh

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