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#i was literally skimming through events and like

garoujo · 8 months

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✩ ˛˚ . GOJO SATORU — you get the impression there might be alot of things your boyfriend is holding back on exploring.

ஜ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ warnings! f!reader, cnc, predator x prey, outside / wood scenes, some rough play, he’s such a tease, minimal prep ♡ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ note! hiiii this idea literally hit me like a brick so i had to get it out my system before i died w it <3 honestly i cut this off a little earlier than originally planned because my brain couldn’t do a whole fic but i hope u guys enjoy regardless :3

you’d enjoyed your day out with gojo as you notice the way the sky around you both has began to darken pretty quickly, but you appreciate the change of scenery— grateful that he’d offered to take you out on a little day trip. he’d insisted he knew a place with a pretty view that was close to one of the school campuses, apparently it was used to host the kyoto sister-school good-will event a few months ago.

that was your destination now as you both walk down the street in that direction, your hand is in his but you still shiver despite the way his palm is warm around yours. his thumb strokes it’s way along your skin as you turn to look at him, it’s an innocent touch as you listen to him talk about his day but the air feels stuffy between you both— your hairs standing on edge before his hand squeezes.

your eyes meet gojo’s as you turn and you notice the way his strays to trail down the pretty line of your throat, sweeping along your figure in you’re pretty dress. his gaze is dark and expectant, but the smirk on his lips looks as pleased as ever as a tinge of anticipation makes you feel suddenly too hot for your skin. still, you smile when you feel his fingers skim from your hand up your arm then across to your lower back, an encouraging sort of touch that urges you to lean in closer.

“you cold?” he asks despite the way he can probably feel the heat running beneath you skin, his hands stroking slowly along your spine as his breathing fans along the shell of your ear. but a shiver still manages to pass through you when he squeezes at your waist.

you let him hold you for a few moments on the side of the street, you’re close to where you’re headed— you can see the tree line break when you turn to your left. you huff and gojo presses his lips to your cheek before he sighs into your ear, his words a low, drawl of a sound as he speaks to you only.

“one, two..”

the electricity that seems to rush through you is enough to make you quiver before you break away from his suddenly loose grip, something in your lower abdomen squeezing as your breathing becomes erratic.

the stride you take is quick as you rush quickly down the side walk, nobody seems to notice your sudden escape from the man’s arms that you looked so comfortable in a moment ago and even if they do— they don’t bother asking. the wind feels warm as it blows through you but you don’t dare look back, you can basically feel the hungry, crystalline gaze on your figure as the rush of adrenaline in your system seems to push you faster.

you can see the entrance to the trees as you make your way towards it, it’s dark but you feel the thrill ignite something in your nerves as you brush by the people still left on the street. your chest feels tight, it’s barely started but your heart is already pounding, beating at your ribs like it’s trying to climb up your throat as you near the outskirts of the campus.

you approach the opening before you allow yourself a quick glance over your shoulder, it’s a momentary look but it’s enough to make something warm shoot down your spine when you notice the looming figure in the crowd. his eyes are still locked in your direction despite the distance, like he can still see you— feel you from so far away as you finally decide to put your adrenaline to good use with your first step into a jog.

but you don’t notice that the figure seems to already have vanished from the crowd by the time you turn back around.

it’s quiet as the forest seems to swallow you whole, leaving you with only your breathing and the sound of your footsteps as you drink up the response that your body seems to have to this, to him. your heart is racing as you run but the air does wonders for your overheating skin, fanning over your features as you push yourself even deeper into the shadows.

you push yourself through a sprouting bush as your head twitches instinctively at a noise to your left and you swear you see it, him— the crystalline blue from his gaze as he stands a few feet away and you gasp, before suddenly it’s gone and you feel the sudden urge to go faster.

“what’s this, hm? aren’t you a cute lil thing.” it’s like an echo the way his low drawl travels through the trees around you, like something haunting as you almost lose your footing. it feels like he’s everywhere at once, deliberately letting himself flash into your peripheral vision— you can hear him in the trees above you, the bushes to your side, in the direction you’re heading towards.

“well, gotta be faster than that. come on, you can do it. don’t wanna make it too easy for me.”

your head twitches slightly before you duck into the heavier oak tree to your right for a breath, you can barely hear anything with the sound of your own heartbeat in your ears — there’s a throb between your thighs, fuelled by the lick of fear that follows before you hear the crunch of the grass behind you.

“oh? thats clever. but you can’t hide forever, don’t go shy on me now.” gojo drawls in the distance, dangerously as you try to suck in quick breathes, feeling your lungs quake with each exhale before you try to catch a glance behind you, eager to know his location— but you need to keep yourself moving.

“lookin’ for me?” you shriek when you snap your head back around to see him already in front of you, hands shoved in his pockets as he tilts his head down at you smugly. it’s like fight or flight the way you go to push past him to set off again but he’s already gone by the time you even blink, leaving you with your heart in your throat and the echo of his chuckle, left to only listen for his next location.

you feel like you’re caught in his web and every movement only tangles you further, but you can’t deny the flicker of lust at the base of your spine that comes with it.

it’s quiet for a few moments except from the rush of your own feet, like you’re being taunted with the taste of an escape, until you hear it— for the first time hear him, his footsteps as you try to steal a look into the darkness behind you that feels like it’s threatening to swallow you entirely.

then that’s when you actually see it, the way gojo’s tall form seems to rip its way from the shadows like he’s finally stopped playing with you — something unhinged and a little wild in his eyes as he gains on you alarmingly quick. he could’ve caught you already, all this time but that’s not fun— your heart is throbbing as you gasp at the sight of him, hearing the heavy footsteps as he sprints after you, the distance he’s closing quickly filling your mind as you make a break into the trees.

“so fast, sweet girl! but did you really think you could get away from me?” he teases from behind you, goading as you realise how close his voice actually sounds. you’ve never run as fast as you’re running right now, every thud from behind you feels like it kicks your legs out from under you but you can’t stop.

but fuck— gojo loves you like this, in your desperate, needy state, you’re like a bunny running from the jaws of a wolf as he watches you twist for an escape, such perfect prey.

you swear you feel his longer fingers reach for you, like the hairs on the back of your neck are standing to attention, atoms drawn into him like you’re above to be snared in a trap— but still so lured in by his touch as he gains on your figure. you almost fumble at the realisation, your feet slipping and giving you a few more seconds— a last ditch effort to escape as you skid on your feet and turn, making a break for the slight opening in the trees, just down by the river.

“hm? oh, well. guess i’ll be a little rough.” you hear gojo chuckle behind you as you keep moving and the sound tempts you into casting a last glance over your shoulder before you realise he’s already there, it only takes him a few strides of his long legs— it’s like he seen that move coming.

you can’t help but scream at the sudden contact of his hand on your skin, instinct telling you to push him away as you try but his grip is tight— pulling you into him before he’s taking you down hard onto the cool grass beneath you. the impact leaves you a little dizzy and disorientated as you both breathe deep, the breath feeling like it’s been knocked out of you as you try to drag yourself away from where he has you pinned between him and the earth, claiming and caging you.

“there we go, that’s better. right where you need t’ be, hm?” gojo’s voice shakes as he speaks to you, so driven by his lust as he watches you struggle beneath him, clawing at the dirt as he presses you down. his breathing comes quick as you feel his hand clamp around your waist — reaching up between your breasts to squeeze his hand around your throat and drag you back the few measly inches you’d escaped until you’re against his chest.

“oh, but you ran so well f’ me, princess. feel what you do to me, hm?” your eyes flutter at the way he presses his clothed cock into you, letting you feel the impressive strain of it through his slacks as he all but ruts you into the dirt beneath you like an animal. you stop struggling at that, collapsing under his weight and suddenly pliant with the hard press of him between your legs, already dripping with the adrenaline that courses through you as your cheek rests against the cool grass.

“p-please, please..” your voice is tight with need as you try to rock your hips back into his, feeling gojo curl his way over you before he’s pulling away entirely to twist you onto your back. that’s when you finally see him, mused and needy— hes flushed, something dark pooling in his usual bright gaze and it makes you gasp as he shoves your dress up your quivering legs, wrapping them around his waist before his huge body is pushing between your thighs to kiss you breathless.

“told you i’d catch you, didn’t i? knew i would, think i was gonna let you go? a sweet lil thing like you?” he’s gone completely as he speaks into the kiss, burying praise and filth between your lips as you squeeze your legs around his waist, grabbing at his snowy roots until he’s groaning against you.

he can’t wait any longer, gojo’s moan is wrecked as he pulls away to mouth at your throat, biting and suckling at the skin as you arch up into him. you’re panting out sweet little pleas, begging for him as he breathes through clenched teeth, tearing so mercilessly at your panties before his pants and belt follow afterwards and you need him so bad you feel tears bead at your lashes.

“aww, you cryin’ f’ me?” he tries to tease but it comes out as more of a breathless croon of a laugh, his cock twitching while your eyes look down to sweep over the thick curve of him. he pushes his chest closer to you, letting your hair tangle in the earth beneath you both as he takes you beneath him.

gojo would normally take his time prepping you, but you’re already a puddle of mewls and whines beneath him, basically begging for him already as he lets his cock tease it’s way through your folds, swiping the head at the slick gathered there as you feel the friction burn and sizzle into something that warms your body from the inside out.

“satoru, please!” you gasp and you’re not sure if it’s the adrenaline, the chase or the anticipation that makes it so easy for him to press his way into you but you’re soaked, feeling the first real silky grind of his cock split through your folds before it’s catching on your clit, making you both gasp and moan at the wet tacky sound that follows.

“oh? so greedy f’ me.” the desperate hug of your pussy feels like it pulls him in as you rub your slick along his cock, forcing him closer before he’s finally sinking into your twitching cunt. gojo’s hand fists your hair before he’s shoving your head back so hard your back arches, lapping into your mouth as you tremble and squeeze around him— panting loud in your ears as he hunches over you. “mm, but you’ve got me so hungry f’ you, baby.”

you’re so tight and barely prepped as he drags you along the grass beneath you— feeling his teeth drag along your lower lip as he ruts himself into the warm hug of your walls. every wet withdrawal of his hips is loud but the slap back is even louder as it echoes around the shadows, he’s like a man possessed, completely unhinged as his hips smack so mercilessly into yours it burns, forcing your walls to stretch and mould to him.

you’re already so close gojo can feel it as he presses deep into your body, losing himself in the pleasure he’s earned, the pleasure he owns as he claims his little prize as you claw at his shoulders for any sort of release.

“my sweet girl, ran so hard and all f’ me. you said you could handle it, so ‘ts all mine to take now, right?”

#݁ . ࿓ : sealed#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru smut #gojo satoru x you

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theonewiththefanfics · 5 months

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Love Conquers All (one-shot)

Synopsys: The wedding is finally afoot. Astarion and his love have fought for it tooth and nail, but could there be more to life after happily-ever-after?

Set after the main events of BG3 This is a follow up to Homecoming (one-shot). Would probably advise reading it beforehand :)

Pairing: Astarion x fem!Reader

Genre: fluff, maybe a bit of angst, insecure Astarion, but just pure teeth-rotting fluff

Warnings: talks of blood, injuries, swearing, mentions of abuse, mentions of SA

Word count: 8875

A/N: I have not played Baldur's Gate 3 (I don't own a PS or a PC where to play it. all of this is based on the info gathered online and through Neil's own gameplay etc. Please be kind :) )

Astarion knew ever since he met Y/N, she was the only one he could imagine spending the rest of his life with. They had gone through hells and back for one another, quite literally going head-to-head with a devil. They’d fought for their happily ever after tooth and nail, and now, the biggest day of their lives (yet) was here.

The vampire spawn woke up from his trance jittery and excited for what was to come. It had been ages since he’d felt this way, such joy while looking forward to what the day had installed for him because he was finally going to marry the love of his life.

Their day would be perfect, Astarion had done everything to ensure it. He’d taken to wedding planning like a cat to cream, making sure that once their day arrived, even the smallest detail would be flawless.

It had taken them two years to settle on a time of the year, let alone a date, but that had given him enough time to grow the flowers for the arrangements that now decorated their house, fussing with them like one would with a child (and sometimes threatening a certain rose if it didn’t grow the way he wanted it to). He even invertedly created a couple of new variates in the process, but those were specifically relegated as the flowers Y/N would weave in her hair for the ceremony.

He had even meticulously studied cookery books, having his parents along with his love be his taste testers, seeing he couldn’t really enjoy eating human food, but he’d be damned if something disgusting would be served in his house, no less on his wedding day. Unless it had a ten out of ten approval from everyone involved, Astarion scrapped the recipe and started over. He was fairly certain the caterers hated him because he’d made them prepare the food before and until they got it absolutely right, he was on their asses day and night.

But if he had to pick a favourite process throughout all the planning, it was when Y/N had come to him late one night as he burrowed himself in his sowing room and requested, that he design and make her wedding dress. Astarion almost got down on his knees in reverence as she looked at him with such tender eyes. And, well, let’s just say – during fittings, his hands might’ve skimmed the inside of her thighs on more than one occasion, and his head might’ve slipped below the skirt to taste between her legs, wholly unprofessional.

Oh, and that dream of a house with a grand library, where shelves of books stretched from one corner to the other, and a large ballroom to host parties until daylight broke – no longer was it a simple dream, but rather his reality. Not only that, he could hear people fussing all across the house as hired staff prepared final details and decorations for the ceremony.

The new house, or let’s be honest, the manor, Astarion and Y/N lived in, had not come easy though. He’d pretty much brought his lover to the end of her wits when they’d gone on the search for their dream home. In the end, it boiled down to her threatening to make them live in the forest like Halsin, sleeping on the hard ground, if he didn’t come to a decision.

Astarion was aghast at the suggestion, crossing his arms and pouting hard. “Why are you so upset about this?” He couldn’t understand what the big issue was with him being so picky. “We’re looking for the place to start our new lives in! It has to be no less than absolute excellence! Do you not want that?”

“Of course, I do!” Y/N rolled her eyes, putting her half-drunk wine glass on the bedside table and shifting her body to completely face him. “But nothing is perfect in this world, Star.”

When he narrowed his scarlet gaze at her, she huffed and shifted to sit on her knees, cupping his face between her palms. “Nothing in life is without its flaws, but that’s the beauty of it all. It gives us a chance to grow and change. And it’s the same with a house. Floors are fixable. Sofas and divans can be reupholstered. Walls can be repainted, those dilapidated wallpapers ripped off, hells we can knock the wall down if we want to… but we will never find our perfect home if we don’t put the work in and make it ourselves.”

Y/N’s soft thumb ventured up to smooth out the grumpy lines that had appeared on Astarion’s forehead. “If you want perfect, you have to do the work to make it so. Because that last house we saw, the one you said could be ours, if it didn’t have those stains on the table or that feeling wallpaper or the hole in the roof that needs fixing – that was someone else’s perfect home because they made it that way.”

Astarion scrunched his nose. “Did a shitty job, that’s for sure.”

If Y/N could roll her eyes any harder, he was sure they’d get stuck in the back of the skull like that. “My point is, we have to make it that way. Yes, the whole process will be long and tedious and I’m fairly certain, there will be moments where we want to kill each other, because, gods forbid, I want the blackout curtains to be emerald not burgundy. But none of that will matter because it will be ours… what can be more perfect than that?”

The vampire always had a comment on the tip of his tongue, he always had a sarcastic remark or some sort of critique to offer, but to this, he had nothing to reply, as he pondered the words.

Y/N tilted her head, a smile blooming on her lovely mouth. “I know you want everything to be exactly how you see it in your head, right from the very start. I know you don’t want to fight anymore, and gods, my love, you don’t deserve to fight for anything, but this isn’t it… this is change. And I think you’re more scared than annoyed at all the little things that might need mending.”

Astarion averted his gaze, looking past Y/N and to the window, the bright light of the moon illuminating the woods beyond. From the corner of the eye, he could see her engagement ring, the ruby glinting like a star in the sky. A finger brushed over his brow, soothing him. “I think you’re nervous to go after what you want, so you’re trying to find any possible reason as to why every house we’ve viewed has had something unfixable to it.”

Closing his eyes, Astarion leaned into her touch. “I hate it when you can see through me like that.” He hated to admit it. It felt like some sort of weakness to be seen so clearly, but he also knew Y/N would never judge him for his fears. But it was still hard to voice them. “I just – I’m scared it will be different.”

“It will be.” She shrugged. “But different doesn’t mean it’ll be bad.”

He didn’t seem convinced though as his mind and attention drifted off, and she had to tilt his chin towards her, a kiss to his forehead bringing him back into the moment. “My Star, we can always stay right where we are. I love this house. And as long as we’re together, it doesn’t matter where we make our home.”

“Oh, don’t be ridiculous, my love,” Astarion let out an undignified scoff. “As darling as this place is, I still want that library. And, well, maybe a tailoring room would be lovely. And I can’t say I would be opposed to a walk-in closet, instead of that little dresser we have now.”

More and more his lips turned into a smile and his gaze lightened as they went on until the morning dawned, talking and mapping out what their perfect abode would be like. They talked about the colours of the walls, where they’d like to hang paintings and how many mattresses their bed should have. Astarion insisted on at least three, so it would feel like resting on a cloud. Y/N thought it was a bit ridiculous, but if that was what he wanted, it’s what he would get. As long as he promised her to have separate duvets, the cover hog that he was.

They settled on a manor near the city, but far enough from the crowds to still keep some sort of privacy. She had been right about the restorations being long and mind-numbingly taxing and took them over a year and a half to return the manor to its former glory. All of their funds sank into it, and as Y/N had also warned – there came a moment where it seemed like they would rip one another’s heads off, having to spend a night in separate rooms. But now they got to relish in the fruits of their labour as the ballroom Astarion had manifested was being transformed into their wedding chapel.

He lazily stretched out his limbs, curling around his still-sleeping love. If he’d had a tail, the cat that he was, he would weave it over Y/N’s middle and curl it, trying to pull her closer if possible.

The woman grumbled something unintelligible, tightening the hold she had on one of the four pillows she had.

“Good morning, my wife. Our big day is here. Time to get up.” Gently, he brushed strands of wild hair from her face, placing them behind her ear, to which he leaned down and gave a playful nibble. To Astarion’s delight, he felt a shiver run down her spine, her toes curling against where she’d pressed them to his calf.

“Not your wife yet,” Y/N grumped, turning so that she could hide her face in the crook of his neck, tickling the sensitive skin there with warm puffs of breath. “And your bride needs her beauty sleep unless you wish for her to look like a troll at the altar. Didn’t give me much of it last night.”

A wicked grin formed on his mouth, one incisor lightly biting on her earlobe. “I didn’t hear you complaining though. In fact, I didn’t hear you say anything but my name.”

Teasing fingers brushed against her ribs and the underside of her breasts, a breath hitching in Y/N’s chest. When he splayed his hand against her stomach, she hummed in pleasure, the sound reverberating through his chest and seeping into his bones.

Her own palms moved from hugging Astarion’s side to his back, nails softly scratching up and down the skin there – so very tenderly over the scars, but with a bit of a bite right above his rear. If he could purr, he would be, but alas, he just moaned and melted like an icicle in the sun.

It was almost tempting to just stay in the bed like that, twining together and just relishing in one another’s touch.

“When are your parents getting here?” Y/N yawned and pressed a kiss to his collarbone. “Your mother promised to help me with the dress and hair.”

“Right as the sun goes down. We should have plenty of time before the moon is high.”

They had decided on a night-time wedding, so the following celebrations could be moved outside into the lavish gardens Astarion had so lovingly created. He may not be able to walk in the sun anymore, but he’d be damned if he didn’t enjoy at least the moonlight. Besides, daytime weddings were so casual, and he was anything but.

He rested his palm in between Y/N’s breasts, but he just kept it there, didn’t try and stray any further. He simply wanted to feel how her heart beat against his palm, the rhythm a steadying and grounding feeling, and it somewhat calmed his fluttery nerves.

“Then we have a few more hours to sleep,” came Y/N’s slurred response as she hitched a leg over his naked hip, but she didn’t try to go any further either. “And you are not getting out of this bed, my personal pillow.”

Astarion smiled at her words and kissed her forehead. He’d been smiling an awful lot since he met her. “Wouldn’t dream of it, my love.”

And even though he itched to go downstairs and supervise every single thing, he allowed the peace that came with being next to Y/N to settle over him as well. It was their day. His day. And starting it off with his little human sweetheart wrapped around him like a vine, keeping him close to her, was nothing short of wonderful.

At some point, she did fall asleep again, Astarion’s movements as his deft fingers massaged the back of her head, lulling her to dreamland. His mind drifted a bit but remained more alert than when he tranced, wandering to how exactly he’d gotten to a moment where in just a few little hours he’d become someone’s husband.

Not only did he have Y/N, but he had his parents to relish in the moment with. He had friends, something that was competently out of the question for two hundred years, and all of them would be arriving to witness the most joyous day of his life. Him! With friends! He even had a true sister, something that’d surprised even him.

That had come about when Astarion had ventured into the Underdark once and reconnected with Darylia. At first, he’d thought there would be too much bad blood between them, no pun intended. It’s why he’d strayed away from the region after he’d freed the rest of the seven thousand spawn from Cazador. Too many painful memories bound them, but instead of admonishments, he found comfort.

He’d bumped into Dalyria at a tavern as he was tracking down an artefact. Astarion was nothing short of astonished when she invited him to a tavern for a drink. The conversation was awkward at first, but as they talked more and more, she seemed to be actually happy for him as he confirmed he was still with Y/N, had a little house by the forest to call their own and spent his days keeping in touch with the party that’d formed during the tadpole adventure while trying to get a sowing business off the ground. She was even more ecstatic to hear when Astarion announced he was engaged.

Dal had a wistful smile on her face. “I would be a liar if I said I didn’t envy you, but… you deserve it. All that happiness… after what Cazador put you through, you deserve all that’s good.”

He didn’t want to, but a ball formed in his throat at her words. “Cazador wasn’t kind to any of us.”

“No,” she mussed. “But you did free us from him. And when you had the chance to take his power for yourself, to become the most powerful vampire in existence, you didn’t. You allowed us to go out there and regain the years we lost under his control. To make our own lives. For that, you deserve only the best.”

A snort escaped him as he swirled the remains of his wine. “Y/N would say not committing mass murder is quite a low bar, if that’s why I’m worthy of happiness.”

“Maybe, but no one would fault you had you gone for it.”

“Maybe…” Astarion pondered. “But I would not have been worthy of Y/N, then. That is for sure.”

Dalyria clinked her glass of blood against his before emptying it, and he was glad he had not been drinking himself as he sure would have choked on the drink. “Will you teach me how to find love? I – I think I’d like to find what you two have. Become… worthy of having it.”

Astarion didn’t know how to respond, but ultimately said he could only try, yet unless the change came from within, there wasn’t much he could do. And the hardest part wouldn’t be learning how to find love, but learning how to love oneself. Only then you could learn how to love others.

“Seems awfully tedious,” Dalyria’s brow had furrowed.

He chuckled and nodded. “It is. But I’ve learned, as much as it can be boring, it’s worth it in the end.”

It had taken time for the vampire to start the process of self-acceptance and processing the trauma, but Astarion was right there by her side, and now, she would be by his, a partner of her own next to her, a human at that, as he tied the knot.

Y/N’s nose scrunched in her sleep as their blissful moment was interrupted by a bell chiming through the house. She grabbed a pillow and smushed it over her head hitting him in the face in the process. “We should’ve eloped.”

“My love, you know as well as I do, our dear friends would’ve hunted us down like prey and dragged us before an altar by the ears. And honestly – I would help them with that.”

When they had rolled out the announcement of their engagement, Astarion’s mother helping them write beautiful little cards to send to their party most had actually shown up to congratulate them in person.

Karlach had been the first one to arrive, banging on the door to let her in, seemingly bursting with excitement. “If my engine wasn’t fixed, I think I would have levelled a whole block when I got the card!” She jumped up and down as she smothered them in a hug.

The second the Tiefling reluctantly released Y/N and Astarion from her grasp, Shadowheart appeared, a bit more subdued in the way she showed her happiness, but still very much so thrilled. She’d even brought along a bottle of wine, as such an event had to be celebrated.

Gale along with Tara teleported right into the living from straight from Waterdeep, a chest of tomes with him, a gift for the library Astarion wanted.

“I even cancelled today’s lectures, and my students were so delighted, they also got you something.” He extended a smaller box, a gorgeous set of feather pens inside. “A thanks for the day off and congratulations on the engagement.”

Wyll, now Grand Duke, joined the festivities right as the sun started its descent.

“I would’ve come sooner, but duties call.”

“Ever the honourable man.” Astarion hugged the once Blade of Frontiers. “I’m lucky Y/N doesn’t care much for honour, otherwise I would be fighting a losing battle.”

“It’s all the blood loss,” she chimed in, hugging Wyll as he congratulated her. “Questionable decisions are not uncommon when oxygen is depleted in the blood.”

Her vampiric love pointed a finger at her. “Well, there are no takebacks, so deal with it.”

Oh, how far he’d come such jokes didn’t sting, and instead he could laugh at them because he knew she wouldn’t leave him. It was certainly not something he ever had to fear.

Halsin and Lae’Zel were last to join Dalyria accompanying them as the night settled, completing their little group.

They spent hours drinking and laughing, enjoying red drinks, some wine, and some other ethically sourced, of course, substances as they lounged by the fireplace.

“So, when will the actual wedding be?” Gale asked as he stretched over a loveseat, Tara having claimed his lap as a napping spot, her purrs echoing through the room. “I would be more than happy, and well, my students most definitely, to cancel the exams for it. Such an affair cannot be missed. Two heroes of Baldur’s Gate wedding each other.”

Wyll pointed a finger at the wizard. “You know, you are onto something. I might just have to make it a day of celebration in the city!”

“Actually…” Y/N shifted next to Astarion. “We were thinking of just going to a magistrate and signing the papers as soon as possible. Nothing grand really.”

A stunned silence settled before Dalyria snapped her gaze toward her brother. “You must be joking,” she deadpanned. “Astarion, I think you might need to lay off feeding from her for a while.”

“Y/N was thinking that,” he rolled his eyes at the outburst. “I disagree.” Turning on his best pout, the vampire glanced at the woman pressed to his side. “You would so willingly deprive me of seeing you in a wedding dress like it isn’t the most important day of our lives. I, for one, wish for this to be my only wedding, yet you break my heart into pieces with your words.”

Lae’Zel let out her signature “t’chk” of disapproval at Y/N’s amused huff. “I cannot believe I am saying this, but the spawns are right. A ceremony must be held. None of this magistrate nonsense, but a real, proper ceremony.”

“You all just want a party.” The Y/H/C-haired woman crossed her arms over her chest.

Halsin boomed a chuckle. “Well, we will not say no to the one a wedding comes with. But if you do not wish to have your dearest companions, people who love you most in the world, to be next to you on such an important day, that is completely dine. It is your wedding after all.”

“Oh, come on!” Y/N threw her hands up with a laugh. “That is so unfair! I mean, I just don’t care for the pageantry of it all.”

“Sweetheart, you are marrying the most pompous man to walk this earth. No offense, Astarion.” Shadowheart looked at the elf, but he simply shrugged, as it was true. “And you mean to tell me there will be no grand display of love?”

Her lover nodded at the cleric’s words, batting his lashes at Y/N. “Besides, would you truly be so cruel, that you’d deny my parents such a day? After everything they’ve gone through.”

“Alright, now you’re just blatantly blackmailing me.” She gave him a humour-filled look.

Astarion put a hand on his chest in mock outrage. “Blackmail my darling intended? I would never! However, if I were, I would also mention that the ring on your finger did belong to my mother, who so lovingly passed it onto you, saying she wished for you to wear it when she saw you next. You know, just a little information, to tug on your heartstrings.”

And tug at her heartstrings it did, as Y/N’s Y/E/C eyes widened, no doubt mind whirling from the statement.

“This is your mother’s ring?” She looked down at the piece of jewellery like it was the most precious thing in the world. “You didn’t tell me that.”

He didn’t intend for her to cry, but he wiped at her cheeks as a couple of tears rolled down her face. “She gave it to me the night we went to see my parents for the first time. I was already preparing to do it, but it just gave me the final push I needed to actually ask you. Even though I technically never did ask.” Astarion nudged her side, and Y/N snorted, dabbing at the corners of her eyes.

“Wait, hold on.” Dal leaned forward, a scrutinous gaze turned towards the elf. “What do you mean he never asked the bloody question? First no wedding, now no proper proposal?”

Karlach though seemed to have other more pressing thoughts in her head. “Holy shit, Fangs, you robbed your mother’s grave!? I mean that is messed up even for you!”

“Rewind.” Gale swirled a finger in the air. “You have a mother?”

All these questions and statements were said one over the other as the room exploded into a full-blown interrogation, everyone flinging queries their way. It took Astarion and Y/N about an hour to respond and tell the full story, but not before they stopped laughing.

At that moment though, Astarion clad in his silk pyjama set, the face greeting him was so full of delight, Karalch shone brighter than the set sun.

“I feel like I could just burst!” The tiefling hugged him, and he responded in kind. It’d become one of his favourite physical ways to show and receive affection. “But where is the wife-to-be herself?”

“Still in bed. You know Y/N and mornings, well, nights I guess, do not mix.”

“Ah, yes,” a male voice agreed and Karlach stepped aside to allow Wyll to enter. “You know, there were moments during our adventure when I genuinely thought our fearless leader would be the one to end us. Remember that time Gale woke her up before dawn because he needed an artefact to consume? His poor eyebrows.” The Grand Duke shook his head. “Honestly thought it might’ve very well have been the last moments of our dear wizard.”

“And yet, it wasn’t!” As if summoned, the Wizard of Waterdeep himself poofed into existence in the foyer. “I live to see yet another day where I can bless my friends with my presence. Eyebrows intact this time.”

Astarion couldn’t control the eye roll as it was almost reflexive when it came to Professor Gale Dekarios, but he couldn’t deny the happiness rushing through his veins seeing the man. If he ever saw Mystra in the mortal plane, she’d better start praying to a god herself, for what he put his friend through.

“It was… quite the look, I have to say,” Lae’Zel commented as she entered the house, joining their group. It seemed like they had a tendency to appear in the same places at the same time even without scheduling such a thing. “But do not attempt to upstage the bride, Gale. Astarion will already be doing his best. Though if these are your chosen clothes,” she gave him a onceover. “I believe Y/N has absolutely nothing to be concerned about.”

Astarion scoffed. “This is handwoven silk.”

“That is poor excuse for wedding attire.” Shadowheart appeared behind them all. “For once we agree, Lae’Zel, so enough with the chitchatting. A wedding needs to happen, and you need to get dressed.”

The only reason he’d decided to put on some clothes was because the thought of his parents walking in on him naked, was enough to pull out all the stashed winter attire and cover himself up so much nothing but his nose would be showing. Now though, Astarion almost wanted to rip them off just to spite the gathered crowd but abstained.

Before he did scamper off, he showed where they could go and mingle while he checked on the final details, especially how the ballroom was looking, and he had to admit, the drow in charge of decorations had turned it into something from a fairy tale.

The room had high windows, all the shutters open to let in the pale light of the moon garlands hanging from the ceiling and walls, the many mirrors on the sides, giving an effect that the room was larger than it truly was, creating an illiusion of a forest inside their home. At the very end between two columns of chairs was the altar where Shadowheart would officiate, two golden cups already placed on a velvet pillow.

There was hired staff in the gardens where food and drinks were being handed out.

Astarion took in a deep breath and held it for a moment before letting it out. Everything was going to be just fine. He had promised as much to Y/N. This nervousness had been one of the reasons he’d wanted to take on the whole wedding affair onto himself.

“I don’t want you to lift a single finger.” Astarion had brushed his nose against Y/N’s cheek after it was settled a full-blown wedding was happening and their friends had dispersed, leaving the two lovebirds on their own. “Just leave it all to me.”

“I mean, I can’t do that,” she exasperated. “It’s our day. We both should be involved. I won’t put such an event all on your shoulders.”

“But I want you to! Listen to me – me getting to order others around as they have to bend our every wish and whim, while all you have to do is nod for yes, and shake your head for no – sounds like a great time to me.”

“Sounds very unfair to you.” Y/N was still sceptical frowning hard at Astarion’s proposition.

“Look,” he sighed, taking her hand in his. “Let me do this for you. For us. You saved me back when I thought I was beyond it. I fully believed I was relegated to nothing but a life of pain and darkness and then… you showed up. You helped me through so many horrors, held me when it felt like the walls were pressing in… I would not have been able to do so without you. So please… let me make this day something you can enjoy and not have to worry about. I am very convincing when I set my eyes on something I want.”

And when he pulled his puppy dog eyes on her, Astairon knew he had her right where he wanted. Y/N could never resist him when his eyes got all soft and round. He could practically see her resolve melting then and there like fresh-fallen snow.

“Alright,” she conceded, and with a passionate kiss against her lips, he pulled her to sit in his lap. “But if it becomes too much, you have to promise to ask me for help.”

“I swear it.” Astarion pecked her lips once more, and though he had no intentions of letting her lift a finger, he was truthful when making such a vow. With Y/N, he’d learned it wasn’t a crime or sign of weakness to request aid.

He left the door open, surely more guests would be arriving, but before he could disappear, two more frames rushed up the steps, his mother and father practically beaming with pride as they saw him.

“I think your druid friend is also on the way,” his mother said, pressing a light kiss to Astarion’s cheek and pulling him in for a hug. “But he stopped to pet a flock of sheep along the way.”

The vampire snorted. “Well, we can only hope Halsin actually arrives for the ceremony on time. Or doesn’t bring the lambs as guests… appetizers though.”

She gave him an amused smile, before squeezing his hand. “I’ll just go and say hello to that wizard of yours. I think I saw him walking somewhere in the gardens and then I’ll be right up with Y/N. Has the sleeping beauty awoken yet?”

“Yes,” he mumbled, frowning. It was a well-known fact his love was a notorious sleepyhead, but that was not his reason for watching with a grimace how his mother practically skipped to the terrace in search of Gale.

“How does she know him?” he directed the question at the male elf standing beside him.

His father sighed, looking at his wife as she disappeared behind the corner, but not before she made sure she looked good, fluffing up her hair in the mirror before the grand entrance to their house. “She’s been quite obsessed with his cookbook. Just be glad she didn’t bring it along for an autograph. But enough of that. You need to get dressed, my Star. The moon is almost nigh.”

All other thoughts vanished from Astarion’s head as he noted how the white orb was pretty much at its peak, and the notion of getting married suddenly became a tangible thing. In just a few hours, under the pale light, he would vow to protect and cherish Y/N, they’d fill one another’s cups and drink, before tying strands of magical gold around one another’s fingers as a symbol of their unity in the ancient elven traditions. Astarion was about to become a husband with Y/N as his wife. If his heart had still beaten, it would’ve been jumping out of his chest.

“Did you feel like this as well when you married Mother?” the vampire’s hand shook as he entered the sowing room he’d claimed as his dressing room for the day. A naked mannequin stood at the corner. It’d born Y/N’s dress which was now surely being slid onto her frame, perfectly fitting against her body, and it was just another reminder of what was to come.

His father closed the door, going over to a suit that was hanging on another mannequin and slipped it off, laying it gently onto a settee. “Like what, Star?”

“Like unless in twenty seconds this whole thing is over, you’ll pass out.”

The deep chuckle the older elf let out was like a reassuring hug, somewhat calming Astarion. “Yes. Very much so. Add onto that wanting to throw up and black spots across my vision, I was pretty much hopeless. But then I was by the altar waiting for your mother, and when she appeared… nothing else mattered. It’s just the waiting that’s horrible.”

“Gods, maybe Y/N was right,” Astarion breathed out, sitting down by his tailoring table, head in his hands. “We should have definitely eloped. I mean it’s not normal to feel this way, is it?”

“Dear Star, it might have taken us two hundred years to find you, and we’ve only been lucky enough to have you back for two, but make no mistake,” his father deadpanned. “Your mother is not above murder and physical restraint if needed.”

“Yes, I know, you kidnapped my bride,” Astarion said. “But, I mean, what if it’s not perfect?” He looked at the elf. Blue reassuring eyes stared back, but even the conviction he saw in them couldn’t quench the lingering fear. “What if she isn’t there? What if I’m left a fool standing by the altar and she does not come?”

Those last words were barely a whisper, shame running through his veins as he said them, but it had been something plaguing his nightmares for weeks on end – Y/N finally realising she deserved so much better and leaving him heartbroken.

When he awoke in a cold sweat and she asked what was wrong, Astarion wrote it off as having a bad dream about Cazador. In truth, he hadn’t dreamt of his master in a long time, his only fear being Y/N tossing him to the side for something better.

“Astarion,” his father said sternly, but not unkindly. “That woman has walked through literal hells for you. And taken on a devil, as you yourself have told us. I highly doubt now would be the moment she gets cold feet.”

Deep down in his heart, he knew the words rang true. Astarion remembered after having killed Cazador, how strongly the urge to Ascend took over. Such power right at the tips of his fingers, yet at the cost of seven thousand souls. But at that moment, he was willing to pay it. He’d never have to be afraid of anything anymore if he finished the ritual. All he needed was for someone to copy the runes on his back. He’d turned to Y/N, someone who he knew supported him, but to his shock, she refused.

Fury took him over. He’d thrown insults so vile it made bile rise in his throat nowadays when thinking back on it. Words wishing her a painful and slow demise, telling her he hoped she died screaming. Astarion had expected her to leave, yet as his mind had cleared, processing the grief and agony he was going through, she was there by his side.

Even though he didn’t deserve it, Y/N held him as he cried, and whispered comforting words when he could do nothing but slump over himself in physical and emotional exhaustion. She was there for him like an unmovable rock, that not even time or tide could erode.

“I’m sorry,” Astarion had begged that night for her forgiveness while she cradled him in her arms. “I’m sorry for what I said. I was – I was blinded by the power. By what I could be, what I could do… I – reality was no longer visible to me. And I’m sorry.”

“I know you are.” Y/N’s kiss was a balm to his wounds, especially those that no one else but her could see or soothe. “And I forgive you.”

Astarion’s father put a hand on his shoulder, bringing him out of the reminiscing. “She will be there because if there is one thing in this world I don’t doubt, it’s her love for you.”

He wrapped that thought around his heart. She would be there. Y/N would always be there for him. But first, he had to be the one to await her, so with his father’s help, he stood up and got ready.

After a year of getting reacquainted with his parents, he’d told them some of what Cazador had done. With Y/N holding his hand through it, he even felt brave enough to show his scars. There were a lot of tears and hugging, and much to his surprise, talks of resurrecting the vampire lord by his mother, just so she could drive a stake through his heart. And Y/N was very eager to agree.

His love had a vicious glint in her eye, and Astarion had to swallow his arousal as she leaned closer over the table where they’d been drinking afternoon tea and said, “I know how to skin a man and keep him alive the whole time.”

“Yes!” His mother accepted the idea immediately. “Let’s do that! My Star, how do we contact that Withers friend of yours?”

Honestly, the fact that Astarion was the one trying to quench their bloodlust and be the peacekeeper, for a moment, made him think he’d been thrown into some different universe. That was not how he expected the conversation over some tea and biscuits to go.

His father smoothed down the back of the white linen shirt and Astarion tucked it into the white trousers while the older elf helped with the cuffs, onyx squares glinting in the warm light of the candelabras. Looking down, he surveyed the intricate frock he’d slaved over days and nights.

It was matching a ivory to that of Y/N’s dress, the chest decorated with weavings of golden threads, much like what he’d sown across the bodice and through the hemlines of her gown. Astarion smiled, a gentle finger skimming over his work, knowing what the scribbles meant.

To the unknowing, it looked nothing more than a pattern of leaves and flowers, but to those who could read ancient elvish, the truth was laid bare. The idea had struck him late one night as he’d sketched Y/N’s dress. With the help of his parents, as his memory of what once used to be his mother tongue was not so good, he stitched into the fabric little love confessions.

Throughout her wedding attire, he’d sown the words of his undying love, of what she meant to him, and on his own jacket, he’d sown the promises he intended to keep as a husband, to always make sure she was safe and loved.

By the time he was tying the cravat, Astarion’s knees were shaking, and his father had to take over, tucking in the piece of cloth by his chest.

The vampire ran a quivering hand through his white hair. “So?” Gods, even his voice was trembling. How was he supposed to say his vows and not sound like a growing youth whose voice was on the verge of breaking? “How do I look?”

For a moment, his father didn’t say anything, just smoothed down the fabric over his shoulders. “Like a man ready to start the best chapter of his life.”

“Good.” Astarion nodded. “Because now I’m feeling that nausea you talked about.”

The older elf let out a warm laugh before nudging his chin towards the open window and when he looked over, he saw the moon shining bright in the sky, a smattering of millions of stars behind it. “It’s time, Star.”

With a shaky breath, Astarion nodded. He was ready. As long as he remembered how to move his mouth and say words, nothing could go wrong.

As he walked back towards the foyer, gentle music greeted him, meaning the string quartet of bards had arrived and their family and friends were filtering into the ballroom.

It was as if he was floating, barely being able to acknowledge the gathered people. Some patted him on the back, some asked if he was excited, and all of his responses were like through a haze, especially as he took his place by the altar.

Shadowheart was already there, giving him an encouraging smile.

“Don’t you clean up nice.”

Astarion wanted to give some sort of a sarcastic quip, but all he could manage was a hum of acknowledgement. He was really truly, nervous. The breath entering his lungs was shaky and came out the same way. He didn’t even need to breathe, but if he didn’t, he might just pass out.

“If it’s any consolation, Y/N is calm as a cucumber,” the cleric said. “Or maybe she’s just a better actress than you.”

The vampire’s pale brows scrunched, as he looked at the woman. She just shrugged.

“She said she knows you’ll be here. What more is there for her to want or be afraid of?”

And that trust, the belief Y/N had in Astarion, settled something in his heart, and when his parents entered, taking their seats in the front row, both elves beaming, all that fear disappeared like mist in the morning.

Beautiful music swirled around them, and all of the guests stood.

The whole world stopped turning the second he laid his eyes on Y/N.

Her body was clad in the white gown he’d poured all his love and care into, the gold thread shimmering in the candle and moonlight. Her hair was free as she always preferred, but small, intricate braids inlaid with diamonds as if rain had settled atop her head, a flower crown gracing the top of it. Y/N’s skin was also covered in a shimmery powder, that made her absolutely glow, as if from within, and the Y/E/C eyes he loved to get lost in, were lined with kohl giving her gaze an intense look. Had it not been for her rounded ears, Y/N would be the epitome of a true elven queen.

Astarion released a breath that’d gotten stuck in his chest and tears welled in his eyes, rolling down his cheeks.

He’d been lucky, especially in these past few years where he’d been able to witness a lot of beautiful things. But nothing was as beautiful as her walking toward him.

Y/N’s head was high, as her gaze bore into his – his scarlet not looking away from her Y/E/C ones – her lips pulled in the widest smile he’d ever seen on her face.

Gods, she was beautiful, and his ego also revelled in how that grin was directed at him. At only him. It seemed like it took her ages, but at the same time not even a couple of seconds to be standing before him, handing off her bouquet of lilies of the valley to his mother and placing her palms in Astarion’s awaiting ones.

He couldn’t take his eyes off Y/N, but she couldn’t take hers off him. Vaguely he heard Shadowheart offer blessings and words of wisdom for the new couple as they started their joined lives. Astarion only snapped back to reality when it was time for him to take the golden thread and tie it around her finger, an ancient elven tradition – instead of simply exchanging rings, one would take a twine of gold and imbue it with the power of their words, before the vows were sealed.

No longer did his hands shake, and his voice didn’t crack once as he said his vows, as he gently twisted the twine and looped it back around where it moulded together by magic on their own, creating a gorgeous ring.

Then it was Y/N’s turn.

“I vow to protect your life as my own,” her voice was soft and steady as she spoke. “I vow to walk the dark paths and lead you to the light when needed. I promise to be your reassurance when doubts come, and I promise to love you until the stars no longer shine.”

Astarion didn’t care as more tears slid down his cheeks and wetted the neckline of his frock when finally, the golden thread connected and solidified itself on his ringfinger.

He was married. He didn’t care that Shadowheart hadn’t said yet he could kiss his new wife, that they needed to drink the blessed wine from the cups, as he surged forward, taking Y/N by the wrist and smashing their lips together. From somewhere afar he heard whoops and cheers, and a “you could’ve waited for just a second more,” but it was all background noise with no meaning as his love’s palm slid to cup his jaw and pull him in for a deeper kiss.

All the nerves had been worth it. All the pain and suffering he’d gone through – it was all worth it just for that moment alone, when Y/N had to press him back a bit, a breathless laugh escaping her lips as she took in greedy gulps of air, but put her forehead against his, not straying far from his touch.

“I love you, husband.”

His cheeks hurt from so much smiling. “I love you, wife.”

They didn’t get to stay in the small bubble for long as people were stepping up, congratulating them, and pulling them in embraces from left to right.

The revelry slowly moved outside where drinks and food flowed without stopping. Slow melodies turned into fast foot-stomping beats, as people twirled and danced, celebrating the union between two of Baldur’s Gate’s heroes.

It was during a moment of reprieve when Y/N was chugging down glass after glass of water and champagne, Astarion following suit with some blood, when his parents came up to them, a small, yet intricate box in their hands.

The frame was of old oak, no doubt, scuffed at the edges and corners, while the top of it was engraved with a whole flora and fauna piece, but that didn’t matter. He’d said them being at the ceremony would be enough of a gift and that him and Y/N didn’t need anything, yet here the two elves were.

“Don’t even start, my Star,” his mother interrupted Astarion’s rant before he could even go on one. “There was no way we would’ve come empty-handed to your wedding. Besides, we think this might be of great interest to you two. And of use”

Gently, as if the box might crumble if touched any harder, the older elf opened it. Inside, laid on green velvet sat two golden bracelets, their visage moulded like wreaths of leaves and budding flowers.

They were handmade, that was certain, and ancient if his eye for jewels and jewellery didn’t deceive him. And it rarely did. But the oddest bit was the sensation it radiated as if it was imbued by vibrating energy, barely contained in the circlets.

“Could it really be – but no. That is only a legend,” Halsin’s and Gale’s eyes were wide as they beheld what lay in the box as the two had snuck up on the group and shadowed behind them. The druid gave Astarion’s parents a bewildered gaze. “How in the worlds did you come by this?”

“Let’s just say, you are not the only ones with connections.” His father threw Halsin a mischievous smile, but Astarion didn’t like that.

“And the cost for such a thing?”

His mother smiled. “My dear, you talk like your skill of words and stealing didn’t come from somewhere. We might be old, but that doesn’t mean we cannot have adventures of our own.”

“I’m sorry for interrupting this moment,” Gale said, “but can we get back to the fact you have the True Love’s Curse sitting in that box.”

“The what?” Y/N’s brows furrowed, but no one bothered to answer as Gale went on.

“I can feel the magic.” The wizard laid a reverent palm above the bracelets but didn’t touch them. “The Weave… I’ve never felt something so strong. As if it could change the matter of the cosmos around us at any second.”

Astarion lifted a finger, just as confused as his love, pointing at the bracelets. “What exactly is this curse? And, I do apologise, mother, as we appreciate everything you've done for us, but why in the worlds did you think a curse would be a great gift?”

“True Love’s Curse is simply the name,” Halsin said. “It’s an old elven legend of two lovers – one forever meant to walk the dark, the other meant for light. In the myth, they are so convinced they are soulmates and meant to be, they create two bracelets, symbols for their loves, imbued with a mirroring spell, but not just any average enchantment. It gives the nightwalker the ability to walk in the sun, but there is a cost – if the other person is no true love, no soulmate, the nightwalker will succumb to the rays and perish forever.”

Y/N grimaced. “Seems quite harsh. And unfair.”

Astarion’s father closed the box. “It’s why it’s called True Love’s Curse. But if there is anything we all can learn from you two, is that love conquers all.”

Hope ignited in the vampire’s chest, as he accepted the box.

Could there really be a chance he would be able to live his life with Y/N by his side, and also live it in the sun?

He used to be scared of what the future held for him, especially what the future with Y/N would be like. He’d had his doubts – that she probably didn’t actually love him. How she was with him only for pity or to use his body like so many others had before – but those no longer existed. She’d meticulously shattered every single brick of the wall that was his mistrust and built a castle of love in his heart. If what Astarion’s parents said was true, he had nothing to worry about – Y/N had been ready to walk her life in darkness with him and not asked anything in return apart from his devotion.

But he pushed the thoughts of the bracelets, of the True Love’s Curse, to the side as he was pulled in a dance by Dalyria, then her girlfriend, and at some point, even Lae’Zel allowed him to lead her in a slow waltz before once again returning to Y/N’s side. His rightful place

His arms wove around her waist, while her cheek leaned to rest against his chest. She sighed, closing her eyes.

Astarion pressed a kiss to Y/N’s head. “I don’t know what I might have done in a previous life, but whatever it was, it had to be something exceedingly good for me to end up with you.”

She hummed in contentment. “You deserve all that is kind in this world, my love. I am the least of it.”

He wanted to argue, to tell her she was his whole world, but instead, he closed his eyes too and smiled, relishing in the love. He did deserve good. He deserved all that was kind. It was time Astarion finally embraced it, and if that was Y/N in his arms, he would hold on a bit tighter then.

Hours later they stood alone by the cliffside, a slight breeze ruffling their hair as they waited for the sun to fully rise, the gardens empty, their house as well, as the wedding party had ended, leaving people satiated and tipsy on their way home.

“What if it doesn’t work?” Astarion asked. “What if they were wrong?”

“Then I have the cloak right here, and all the shutters have already been closed at the house.” She took his hand in hers, the bracelet clicking against his.

She didn’t try to convince him, give him false hope of how it would work, because not everything in life did. Not everything was perfect and not everything was supposed to be perfect. Of course, he would be devastated, if the True Love’s Curse was not real. But Astarion also knew he’d never be alone in it. He’d have Y/N by his side, as he always had. She wasn’t going anywhere and that was enough.

As the sun rose, the sky turning from a deep blue to pink, then orange and red, Astarion took in a deep breath. Then – on the first day as a married man – the first rays of a new day touched him for the first time in four years.

A tear rolled down his face, scarlet eyes not daring to stray away from the stunning view that was the dawn and greeted the sun like a long-lost friend.

Y/N gave him the widest smile ever, a match to the one she’d sported when seeing him by the altar. “Where to first, my love? We have the whole world for the taking.”

He looked at her, cupping her face. “First, to home. And then – to the very edge of the universe.”

Tags:

Astarion tags: @spacebarbarianweird @omggiannarosa @poisonquinzell @iffazu @alisoncdariel

Everything tags: @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @m-a-t-91 @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @lestersglitterglue @im-squished @strangersstrange

A/N: I've re-written this whole thing like 3 different times because I just couldn’t get it right, but now I feel like this is how it's meant to be :) I do have like extra 8k words of stuff I might release as smaller fics set around these two specific versions of the characters. Let me know if you'd like that or want to be tagged in future fics :)

I might edit this at some point a bit more. English is not my first language, so I need time to step away, before I can see additional mistakes.

Please don't repost on other platforms without specific written consent! That is called plagiarism

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vasito-de-leche · 4 months

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;R1999 TENNANT - General Headcanons

Compilation of headcanons and analysis on Tennant as a character and other related things.

I missed doing analysis like this and I got burnt out from writing oneshots, so since someone asked for a Tennant post last month or so, here we are <3

she's literally the only 5* I don't have, the woman avoids me like the plague LMFAO. because of this, the screenshots and examples will be taken directly from the fandom wikia!

On the subject of diamonds, Laurence Tennant and the House of Tennant.

I feel like we should talk first about her father, as it will give more context as to her current personality and themes. For the sake of making things less confusing, I'll be addressing Tennant by her real name (Ada) throughout this specific bullet point!

Going by Ada's Cover profile, we can confirm that she was born in Birmingham and at the age of 15, moved with her father to New Delhi.

Thanks to the 01 Story, we understand that the Tennants moved from their homeland because of Laurence's job (mining, identifying and transporting diamonds from British India to the UK). It's also worth noting that the House of Tennant seems to be extremely valuable to the UK because of their mineral/diamond related skills and arcanum - note how Ada's father is titled Sir Laurence Tennant in the first part, and how they strip him of his title.

But what the 01 Story fails to explain is the reason Laurence was persecuted. He's suspected of "an arcanum-related crime, thef, fraud" and other six unknown charges, that's all we know. The 02 Story gives a little more information on the crime he might've committed to have such a large bounty on his head.

"…Laurence Tennant stands accused of an arcanum-related crime, in which he may have turned a batch of diamonds into charcoal on their way to Britain through his arcane skill. The colonial government is still in search of Laurence Tennant and trying to locate the whereabouts of the diamonds and therefore cannot take legal action against the suspect at the moment."

Basically, he does the exact same thing Ada is currently known for. The year this event takes place in is also important - Bluepoch puts a lot of references to real people and events, and given how the House of Tennant lived through the british occupation of India and how they're related to the diamond mining industry, I'd like to talk about a very specific diamond: Koh-i-Noor, one of the largest diamonds in the world.

Now, as usual, I'm only getting this information from skimming wikipedia articles and anyone with more knowledge on this subject is free to correct me or add to the post!

The Koh-i-Noor is notorious for its conflicting and confusing origins, with the earliest mention of its existence being around the 1740s and that it was directly looted from Delhi. This diamond was passed around various royal figures, but we'll focus on what happened to it on the year Laurence Tennant went missing. In 1937, the Koh-i-Noor was put on the crown of Queen Elizabeth for her coronation.

For full transparency, the diamond had been in possession of the Royal British Family since 1851, so the idea that Laurence Tennant might've somehow acquired it while he was aaaaall the way in New Delhi doesn't exactly make much sense. Still, I feel like the year chosen for this event, the themes and the theft of diamonds, plus the subtle emphasis on british colonialism that Tennant's character has, are still worth discussing, to draw more parallels between the real events and the details chosen by Bluepoch.

Laurence Tennant might've or might've not stolen the Koh-i-Noor, for all we know he simply could've switched a handful of regular diamonds for charcoal using his arcane skills. To me this doesn't explain all the chaos that ensued, but it could still be a thing that happened!

My personal headcanon on this matter is that the House of Tennant has been doing this since the very beginning. Father and daughter share the same arcanum, after all. Laurence Tennant was stated to have been working in the diamond industry for many, many years - there's no way he could've missed something as important as the Koh-i-Noor. And in the context of politics, it's way easier to accuse the perpetrator of many different, smaller crimes than the big crime that could ridicule the crown or the authorities in power. I personally like to think this is what happened with the Tennants - that the Koh-i-Noor was found to be fake during Queen Elizabeth's coronation, that they finally realized Laurence Tennant's long scam, and they accused him of minor crimes to save face all while giving him the biggest fucking bounty known to man during those years.

What leads me to believe that the House of Tennant, that both father and daughter were scamming the crown all along, is Ada's 02 Story.

Once her father disappears, he's gone for good. Ada never mentions him again, not in her voicelines, not in her interview with Pandora Wilson. Ada never seems to grieve his disappearance, which seems weird since there's nothing that hints towards them being on bad terms. As far as we know, the Tennant family is only them.

A year after Laurence Tennant disappears from the face of the Earth, his daughter follows. In 1938, Ada also escapes the authorities that were actively supervising her during Laurence's case. We don't know how old she was exactly, other than she must've been older than 15 at minimum. And if she was spotted around the 1940s with her current age being 25, well...

For someone that young to vanish without a trace despite all the constant surveillance, all the attention drawn to her family due to her father's crime - to me it seems like she learned from the best. Especially when she begins her own career of crime in Paris that very same year, using the exact same methods as her father, the legacy of her family.

This would also explain Ada's constant lying and acting. These are all things she learned from her father, someone who was never truly obedient and loyal to the people he worked with.

I would also like to draw parallels between Ada and Druvis III. It's the same argument and parallels I talked about when discussing Forget Me Not. Feel free to skip this, if you already know the deal.

Both characters, Ada and Druvis, were part of important arcanist families, known and respected for their specific arcane skills. Both of them had to leave their homes behind: Druvis, an immigrant forced to abandon her roots and traditions for the sake of assimilating into the "american dream". Ada, who moved into one of the colonies her own country was actively exploiting, an outsider and indirect participant in the mining of diamonds.

Both characters also carry their families and legacies in their names, but whereas Druvis is constantly haunted by her past and the way people continue to talk about her family, the House of Tennant is forgotten. Ada's first birthday quote states:

Many years ago, the Tennants held a birthday banquet for their beloved daughter on this day. But now, almost no one remembers this déclassé family.

The House of Tennant is gone, despite their importance in history and the huge crime commited, no one remembers them. And yet, Ada wears her family name proudly, there's barely anyone left to remember where it comes from and the weight it used to carry.

It's understandable that people recognize Druvis. But why can't people remember the House of Tennant? I don't have an answer for this, I just think it's a very interesting thing, some food for thought!

On the subject of Tennant's ties to New Delhi, colonialism and her stance on racial and arcanist/human issues.

Not to hit everyone with heavy topics, but I feel this is an aspect of Tennant that often goes overlooked in favour of her whole seductive vibes.

Now, Tennant was born in the United Kingdom, but she has a noticeable darker tone to her skin, and while her ethnicity is never stated, it might be implied that she's a woman of color. I've seen people say that she's tan because of the time she spent in New Delhi - she does have a voiceline speaking about the scorching sun - but... She left New Delhi years ago. A tan you get from the sun doesn't ... stick for a decade. That argument doesn't make sense at all to me.

Either way, while I'll be treating her ethnicity as ambiguous, I felt it was important to note out that she might not be white, especially because of the themes I'll be addressing here.

Now, first and foremost I want to talk about the way Tennant talks of New Delhi - this is not the country she was born in, nor the place she was raised, as it's implied that she was also pretty young when she left for Paris. Yet she makes no references to the United Kingdom.

New Delhi? To be honest, I barely remember anything about it. It doesn't make much difference to England, aside from the scorching sun.

This quote? This is a lie. This is Tennant choosing to lie to Vertin for reasons I'll talk about in the next bullet point. How do I know it's a lie? Because the last item you can unlock for Tennant is this.

Cheap accessories she bought in New Delhi. And they must mean a lot to Tennant, because Pandora Wilson notes that it's impressive that she's managed to keep them until now.

The first skin Tennant gets in 1.3 is "Roaming in Delhi".

The text reads:

Back then, whenever there was a day off, I would put on a local outfit and wander around Delhi to visit some historical sites and handicraft shops... Those days were fun. Yours, Tennant.

Clearly, Tennant still thinks about Delhi. The time she spent there must've been important to her because to this day, she still carries part of it with her.

I believe that during her time there, Tennant came to understand the way rich countries exploit others, the lengths they'll go for something as simple as diamonds. And now, knowing that she dressed up as a local and saw their way of life first hand during the british occupation, it gives a lot more depth to her character and why she seems to cherish New Delhi above all the other places she's been in.

I won't pretend I'm a history buff. Again, all this information comes from quick searches and reading wikipedia articles. I'm a person of color myself, but I cannot speak on the struggle India and its people went through.

What I gathered is that Tennant lived through the last stages of the Indian Independence Movement. And given how Tennant was spotted in the 1940's, it's safe to say that she outlived the British Raj, as India gained independence in 1947. The fact that all of these important events were chosen for her backstory doesn't seem like a coincidence to me. It makes sense that Tennant does not abide by laws and is considered a criminal - because the authorities she witnessed were anything but just and fair to the commonfolk. We must also take into account the issues R1999 introduces between arcanists and humans, which overlap with our own racial issues in the real world to a degree.

This might be a reach from my part, but notice how the news from Tennant's 01 Story change when addressing her father. First it's "an official in British India, Sir Laurence Tennant", when they believe him to be missing. Later, after they issue a wanted notice, it's "senior official, mineralogist, arcanist Laurence Tennant". They've already stripped him of his title and now that he's officially a criminal in the eyes of the government, they felt it was necessary to state he was an arcanist. And sure, they also stated his previous role and his job, but as a person of color myself it definitely feels similar to the way POC's ethnicities are highlighted in media whenever they're accused of crimes.

Language and wording matters a lot, and perhaps this is why Tennant knows this, why one of her most effective methods is sweet-talking.

Either way, Tennant does speak of politics and I think her character as a whole was meant to be political given the details we just discussed. There's this exchange at the beginning of her interview with Pandora Wilson:

Pandora Wilson: What's the difference between Britain, India and France to you? Tennant: Nothing different, my beautiful lady. Pandora Wilson: What do you mean? Tennant: For me, humans are all the same, no matter where they are from. Tennant: We share the same virtues and the same weaknesses, and we can't do anything about it. They are part of human nature.

Tennant has experienced all three points of view - that of the oppressor, moving to New Dehli because her family's business is involved in the diamond mining market. That of the oppressed, both as an arcanist and from the times she disguised herself as a local to experience life as just another girl from New Dehli. That of a third party, oblivious to the issues, in a brand new country who does not concern itself with these matters and live a beautiful life in ignorance.

She doesn't see any difference when it comes to all these countries she visited, because she knows of the struggles and how stupid prejudice and bigotry are.

Arcanists, within the universe of R1999, are hinted to be an entirely different race to humans because of the many differences in their biology, with their appearance being one of the things they share. And yet, Tennant doesn't make this distinction - WE share the same virtues. WE can't do anything about it. We are all the same, no matter where we come from.

Tennant, despite the lies she attempts to sell to the world, is an extremely grounded individual, just as multifaceted as the diamonds she recreates!

On the subject of Tennant's lies.

We can't talk about Tennant without addressing her whole lying motif. I've already covered characters who aren't fully transparent with their thoughts, feelings or intentions - not necessarily deceitful on purpose like, let's say, Forget Me Not, but just misleading.

In Tennant's case, this is taken to an extreme.

She's described as a fraudster, a con artist. There's a lot of stress into the fact that one cannot trust her. Deceit runs in her family, her medium is lies, her Inheritance Skill is called "Beautiful Lie". She states that her hobby is "diddling", cheating and scamming others...

And yet, this entire act is a performance.

This might be a controversial take, but Tennant is honest.

She delivers exactly the sort of behaviour and persona that people expect her to, the one she's built throughout the years. She's playing a character and performing for those willing to approach her despite the very red flags - because Tennant makes it extremely obvious that she's not someone to be trusted. You can see it in the way she speaks to Vertin.

Sunlight eases people's mind and endows diamonds with glowing luxury. What a perfect occasion for deceiving.

Good morning, my lady. I've prepared you fresh coffee, sandwiches, and this shiny diamond. Of course, I would never lie to you. This is a piece of cultured work. But look how it sparkles, how elegant, isn't it?

If you want to, you're always welcome at my place. I will be here, with my cleverest scam, waiting for your arrival and, of course, an invitation to yours.

This isn't to say that Tennant doesn't lie - she does that a lot, a good chunk of her voicelines are directly contradicted by her items. The voiceline in the middle is a lie. She's lied to Vertin already, when she said she did not remember New Dehli. She vaguely poses as a man...

If else, lies are to be expected when she's playing her part, when she's painting a picture of her nature as a con artist for you to fall for.

And speaking of falling for Tennant, aside from the whole counterfeit diamond scam, seduction is another aspect to her character. I don't have to go in-depth about this because everyone and their dog has seen her Insight 2 illustration, a good chunk of women who play the game did it because of Tennant's charms. Every day I look through the tag and see people talk about how Tennant was the one character that enticed them to play.

But I will point out a few other details! This is one of her voicelines.

So what's next? The young lady of the rich, resolute and courageous as she is, disregards my humble beginnings and takes her possessions to elope with me. But then, I will leave her and disappear, forever.

And this is the information given for her second birthday login.

On this day, countless maidens in Paris went dizzy with love. They all just happened to encounter an elegant, charming gentleman who gave them a "unique" invitation to a birthday date.

These fleeting relationships, her constant flattery and flirting - they're part of the performance and all the women who fall for it are willing participants. As far as I know, Tennant never steals from them, her targets being merchants and people who can afford to spend money on diamonds so frivolously.

This is why Tennant insists her behaviour is harmless, it's a game. Her conversation in the Wilderness is a perfect example of the way she operates, specifically the way she opens with:

Ironically, diamond itself is a product of lies. I merely add a new layer to it, won't you agree?

The phrase "a product of lies" is very evocative to me. Tennant more than anyone is aware of the truth about diamonds - their value is artificially inflated to support the whole market, but they're not that valuable and they're mostly sold to rich people. So she's right, a diamond is a product of lies! But this phrase could also be read differently, like the way a diamond is born from coal, or the way something so "high class" and brittle could be created through insane amounts of pressure and work. Again,

Bluepoch gives their character many, many layers, the same way Tennant adds yet another layer to the lies of a diamond.

"It's just a lie known to everyone."

So, to summarize: Tennant is honest and upfront about her lies, she's playing a character. Her big scam is to make people fall for something so obvious - she makes maidens fall in love with her despite everything, she makes merchants buy into her fake diamonds. It's both an innocent performance and a risky game she plays. It's like her Ultimate says - she has a sincere heart, just split into many pieces.

What leads me to believe that Tennant is also a very kind-hearted woman is the fact that one of her skills is a shield. This is also something I talked about when analyzing Dikke, since she's also a very violent person whose healing skill give more insight into her character. It's the same for Tennant here!

"People have always dreamed of such thing, no matter it's in the distant universe, or right in front of them."

These little things and the previous point portray a different Tennant altogether - she's offering a harmless, whirlwind romance to many girls out there who are willing to play along, who are enticed by the danger without knowing they're safe and sound by her side, to give them a taste of something beautiful and fleeting. She carries around a gun that is explicitly "seldom pulled out".

To end the post, I have to admit I don't have many in-depth headcanons for Tennant? At least not enough to warrant more bullet points, and I already sprinkled a few throughout the post, so that's about it from me!

#reverse 1999 #reverse: 1999 #reverse 1999 tennant #reverse 1999 headcanons

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agendabymooner · 6 months

Text

dadventures with the schuminis: rock it, minnie! || ms47 scenario (1)

dad!mick schumacher (x ofc) centric

EXTENSION TO THE LITTLE SCHUMINIS

Summary: A series in which Mick Schumacher tackles the challenges and moments of being a father to his little carbon copies with his father Michael Schumacher (alongside his in-law Sebastian Vettel, who continues to deny that he was a grandfather while accepting his role as the Schumacher kids’ Opa).

Scenario summary: With Minna’s first birthday coming up, Mick struggles to find the perfect gift that she’ll learn to cherish forever. Thankfully, Michael still knows how to make Gina’s old rocking horse and Sebastian knew how to operate the electric sander. AND Michael and Sebastian are insufferable as in-laws.

Content warning: dad!Mick Schumacher, grandpa!Michael Schumacher and Sebastian Vettel being competitive as grandparents, Seb denying he’s a grandpa, terms of endearment, fluff, mentions of pregnancy, Mick making a dirty joke, brief German translations, mentions of grandma!OFC (Bel Vettel) spoiling Minna

a - n masterlist

o - z masterlist

if you’d like to get on one of my taglists, check this post out!

Mick Schumacher knew that his off days were numbered. He hated that he had to count his days and immediately head back to the road and race.

But he did what he had to do for the sake of giving his daughter a better future— whether it had something to do with their financial situation (they were rich as hell) or her desire to follow Mick’s footsteps to become a racer (Mick was praying to god she didn’t want to be a racer), he persisted on staying and racing for the season for the sake of his family.

Regardless of his limited days off, he did what he could do and participated in the event planning for his firstborn's first birthday celebration. His wife, Barbie, insisted that she and Gina were handling it well, but he wanted to do something special alongside them.

And so Barbie and Gina assigned him to find his daughter a special gift for the celebration. “Something that would mean to her in the long run,” his sister said.

His face paled a little when she said that. It was so cryptic and vague. It was just vague.

He thought about the theme of the party at first. Minna Elisa’s first birthday party was running with the farm theme.

When it was first suggested by Gina, Mick almost snorted to ridicule the thought. “We already grew up around them,” he said, “I don’t think Minna would appreciate that. Why can’t it be just horses?”

Then Barbie and Mick’s mother Corinna agreed to Gina’s idea. After all, Minnie was already showing a great interest in animals! Specifically horses.

Horses.

RIGHT! Mick almost yelled and stood up, looking for his old photo albums. He skimmed through the pages and wondered what his and Gina’s rooms looked like before in Texas. The Schumacher siblings loved their home in Texas— especially their rooms. Mick’s room was converted to be Kimi and Stefan Vettel’s guest rooms but they remained with the same theme of western style and horses.

Then, just as he browsed through his pictures with Gina in her bedroom, his eyes immediately zeroed in on the pink and blue wooden rocking horse that his baby self sat on while Gina stood next to the boy.

He knew what he wanted to get his little girl now.

And so the first thing he did was phone his parents. He called Corinna’s phone, but it was Michael who had answered the call.

“Mick?”

“Oh, hey Dad, is mom there?” Mick nearly facepalmed. This was literally Corinna’s phone he had called.

“Am I that boring to you, Mickie?” Michael scoffed, making Mick roll his eyes. “I can hear your eyes rolling from here. Seriously, is there anything I can help with? Your mom is out at the back right now.”

“Yes, actually,” Mick cleared his throat and stared at the picture of him and Gina as he continued, “I saw this photo of me and Gina in the ranch— her room actually. Gina had this wooden rocking horse and I’m wondering if we still have it there. I’m hoping to ask Gina if I can get it and restore it as a gift for Minnie’s birthday?”

“Oh. That pink and blue one?”

“Yup, that one.”

“Gina broke it when she was five and we had it thrown out,” Michael almost sighed at the memory.

Mick winced when he learned the news. “Why- ugh Gina.”

“We told her that she can’t ride it anymore but she was persistent,” Michael chuckled. “Why would you restore it when you can just buy one?”

“Because it would mean a lot more if Minna got the same one her Aunt Gina has,” Mick murmured. “She’ll see it in the pictures and be like ‘Wow this was my Auntie G’s!”

“Huh,” Michael let out a hum. “That’s… that’s very thoughtful, Mick. But sadly we don’t have it in Texas, anymore.”

Mick let out a sigh of defeat. He could just always get Minna a new one, but it would mean a lot if his daughter got something from their childhood that she would enjoy as well.

Michael had a different thought, however.

The 7-time world champion had spoken up again after hearing absolutely nothing from his son, “It was something that I made from scratch, Mick.”

Mick’s eyes quirked at the sound of this as he asked, “You made it?”

“Ralf and I did,” Michael replied, referring to Mick’s uncle as Michael continued, “I still remember what it looks like and if you’d like, we can make it. Though I doubt that you’d have time to—“

“NO, NO, NO!” Mick panicked, wincing at the volume of his voice as he looked back at the entryway of the living room. Barbie would kill him if his tone woke the baby up. Then he began speaking as quietly as possible, “I’m not busy on my next off— surely it won’t take us long to make it right?”

“You have to rest for the—“

“—Dad, I’m begging you right now please help me,” Mick pleaded desperately. “I have a doubleheader after my next off and I wouldn’t have time in the future like Dad please.”

Michael immediately interrupted Mick, “Mick for the love of god, stop freaking out—“

“—Sorry,” Mick muttered. “Didn’t mean to freak out. ‘S just… I haven’t done anything for Minnie’s birthday and this is her first birthday. My first kid’s first birthday. I’m already missing out on most of her life and I can’t even do anything for her first birthday? What kind of a father would I be?”

Michael understood. He understood fully what Mick felt and he wouldn’t deny that. He was a father as well, and he rarely saw Gina and Mick during the season— he had often labelled himself as a shitty father for it. It was only fair that Michael understood how Mick felt now that he, too, was a father.

But instead of expressing his empathy outright, Michael only sighed and spoke, “Lassen Sie uns morgen mit klaren Köpfen beginnen.” Let’s start with clear minds tomorrow.

“Was meinst du, Dad?” What do you mean, Dad? Mick asked.

“We’ll plan out what to do in two weeks then start,” Michael told his son through the phone and instructed, “It’ll take us a while to figure it out so I need you to clear your brain and sleep it off. Don’t get too stressed, Mickie. ‘s not good for you— Minnie’s a baby but she can feel stress when it’s nearby.”

“Okay,” Mick cleared his throat, now determined to stay sane for a little while. “I’ll do that.”

“Don’t get too antsy about not being able to do anything,” Michael reassured him. “Everyone around you already knows you’re doing more than you think.”

“Alright,” Mick murmured softly, “th- thanks dad. Say hi to mom for me, yeah?”

“You guys~” Barbie had walked into the deck of their home, her face offering her husband Mick and father-in-law Michael a puzzled look.

“You two have been here for hours,” Barbie told them as if she was worried. She had been hearing some strange noise at the deck earlier today alongside the murmuring. Knowing Mick and Michael, she assumed that they were just relaxing at the back.

Yet here she was, looking at them with a baffled look as she watched Mick’s hand pull away from the half-cut lumber and electric saw.

“No we’re not,” Michael quipped, “we’ve been here for two.”

“Hours,” Barbie emphasized. “Minna just—“

“Da! Da!” Corinna had followed suit and walked out with eleven-month-old Minna in her arms, grinning as the baby continued to babble happily.

“Yeah, what Minna said,” Barbie murmured, stepping back as she said, “she just woke up from her nap.”

“Aw, is that right, meine kleine Minnie?” My little Minnie. Michael cooed, arms extending to reach for his granddaughter as he carried Minna in his arms. He grinned heavily as he began to move around with the little girl. “Did you have a good nap, liebe?”

“Pip!” Minna shrieked, only knowing that word alongside ‘Ma’ and ‘Da.’ “Pip!”

“Is that a yes or a no?” Michael hummed before pressing a kiss on the little one’s chubby cheek. “I assume it’s a yes.”

“Oh definitely a yes,” Barbie chuckled, “I know what Mick looks like waking up from a nap— she's definitely a Schumacher who had a good nap.”

Mick groaned playfully, earning a giggle from Barbie.

“By the way,” Barbie brought up, “Seb is coming over with Kimi and Stefan.”

“Oh great, look, Dad, Seb’s helping us,” Mick looked at Michael.

“What’re you two doing anyways?” Corinna asked, her eyes looking at the scattered tools and piled-up lumber. Barbie found herself looking as well, curious eyes now trained at the cans of paint as she looked back at the father-son duo.

“Stuff,” Mick shrugged nonchalantly.

“Wow aren’t you specific,” Corinna muttered.

“It’s for Minnie’s birthday,” Michael waved off the two women, “don’t worry about it. It’ll be done by the end of the day.”

“Minnie’s birthday is in four weeks,” Mick continued, “I wanted to make something for her so… yeah.”

“You don’t even know how to make something wood-related, Mick,” Barbie replied with a raised brow.

Mick then murmured, “I’ll show you something wood-related— ow, Mom!” Corinna smacked Mick on the back of his head and glared at him, gesturing back to Minna.

Michael snorted aloud, making Minna laugh at the sound.

“That’s your child in front of you, Mick,” Barbie warned with a cheeky grin. “Careful with your words now, yeah?”

Mick only rolled his eyes. It wasn’t as if Minna could understand that easily.

“Besides,” Barbie continued, “shouldn’t you be talking to Seb about… lumber stuff? He’s made an impressive apiary before.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Michael scoffed and waved off the offer, “I’ve made this before. It’s nothing I can’t do. Sebastian’s never done this— he wouldn’t be that good without any instruction.”

Corinna and Barbie traded looks. If there was something that the Schumachers and Vettels knew, it was that Sebastian was good at a lot of things— so the fact that Michael was underestimating his woodworking skills? That definitely wouldn’t sit right with Seb especially if he’s heard of it.

Sebastian Vettel wasn’t usually like this, but when Corinna brought up Michael’s comments about his skills the 4-time world champion couldn’t help but lean against the deck railing with a smirk. In his hand was a bottle of beer, watching the Schumacher men struggle with sanding the wood surfaces that they’ve cut. Or rather, they didn’t know how to operate the electric sander.

Mick groaned, “Seb— some help please?” He turned to look at the driver, who kept leaning against the railing with a cheeky smile.

“I would but Michael said I can’t be good without ins—“

“Oh come on, have a laugh, Seb,” Michael looked at Sebastian in annoyance, making the man finally cave in and laugh. “Just come help— this is your granddaughter’s gift too—“

“No, don’t call Minnie that,” Sebastian interrupted Michael and shook his head. “Don’t call her my granddaughter.”

“Is she not?” Mick raised a brow. He was merely teasing. After all, Sebastian proudly called himself Barbie’s (foster) father — therefore he was a proud Opa to the little Minna Schumacher.

Seb just refused to be called a grandfather. He wasn’t that old yet. Fernando Alonso was literally older than him! He sometimes denied that he was a grandfather— but he wouldn’t ever deny Minnie the right to call him Opa.

“Step away,” Sebastian said, now handling the sander as he started it. “You should’ve called me earlier today— I would’ve gone and done all of this.”

“Dad said he could do it, that's why I thought we didn’t need some help,” Mick reasoned.

Sebastian gave his mentor Michael a look and said, “Minna’s not just your granddaughter, Michael. Learn to share responsibilities. I have to spoil her too.”

Michael rolled his eyes, “Just sand the whole thing so we can paint it.”

Minna Schumacher’s first birthday party was anything but simple. The little one had charmed people with her signature Schumacher grin and had giggled at almost anything.

But it wasn’t just her adorable and charming being that turned the environment of the party up a notch. Her little heart-studded cowboy boots gathered the attention of most guests as she slowly walked and stomped around the venue, smiling up at whoever she came across as her mother Barbie assisted her.

“Oh my, is that my Minnie baby?” Barbie grinned at her mother Bel Vettel as the little one excitedly stomped her feet down. Minna immediately sped up her steps and leaned forward to be reached by Bel.

The older woman, despite not looking the part, took Minna in her arms and hoisted the baby up with a light grunt. Bel grinned and squealed at Minna, “You are such a big girl now, Minnie! Whatever will Oma do about it?!”

“Oma,” Minna babbled repeatedly before putting her little hands over Bel’s cheeks. The baby continued to babble as Bel nodded along.

Bel then looked over at her daughter and smiled, “And you? I’ve heard you’re feeling sick lately.”

Barbie rolled her eyes playfully, “It’s hard to keep things a secret in this family, huh?”

Bel chuckled, “You know that we’re only worried. Are you okay though, Barbie? Corinna said—“

“Nina!” Bel and Barbie chuckled at Minna’s excited expression.

Bel then continued, “She said that you’re feeling ill— or at least Mick’s been telling her.”

“Mm, yeah,” Barbie hummed, reaching to fix Minna’s pigtails as she continued, “I’ve been throwing up and all that… I think I know—“

“—I knew it,” Bel squealed, bouncing Minna in joy as she cooed at the baby, “Minna’s gonna be a big sis huh? Are you?”

Barbie chuckled happily, “I have a hunch. Let’s just not tell Mick or the others yet, if that’s okay. I don’t want them to get their hopes up.”

“Yeah, of course,” Bel grinned, pressing kisses on Minna’s face. “I’ve got more babies to spoil— and I thought Stefan and Kimi’s gonna be the only kids I’ll be able to spoil!”

“I still can’t believe you got her a bag,” Barbie rolled her eyes, making Bel giggle as Barbie continued, “She won’t be able to use that for a while, Bel. She's only a year old.”

“Yeah, but she’s my Minnie baby,” Bel pouted dramatically. “You know I wouldn’t pass up the chance to spoil my little Minnie, no, Bebe?” Bel grinned at the toddler as Minna replied with a laugh.

“Bel,” Barbie sighed, “you got her a Hermes.”

“Only the best from Oma Bel,” the older woman grinned, making Barbie sigh again.

Barbie then said, “Only the best for Minna— I feel like I’ve heard everyone say that.”

“Of course,” Bel quipped, “everyone wants to be Minna’s favourite. But it seems like her Da and Pippa will win that title sometime soon.”

They both looked over where the wooden rocking horse was. It was majestic— the handiwork that Mick and Michael made for the little girl.

It was similar to the one that Mick showed Barbie. But instead of the pastel blue and pink, the rocking horse was painted with the colours of Michael Schumacher’s racing suit back when he won his first world championship— the Benetton blue and yellow accentuated in the wooden horse while his driver number was painted on the sides of the horse.

Barbie chuckled softly, “Don’t say that out loud— Seb might hear. You know that he wants to be Minna’s favourite grandpa no matter how much he refuses to get called one.”

On the other side of the room, the birthday girl’s dad Mick, and her grandfathers Michael and Sebastian (who still called himself ‘Opa’ rather than ‘Grandpa’) stood as they looked over where the wooden horse was.

“I’m surprised that it turned out well,” Mick mumbled. Sebastian and Michael hummed in agreement. “Minnie wouldn’t stop going to it since she found it.”

“Well that’s good,” Michael joked, “otherwise I wasted hours of my time for nothing.”

“This was an eye-opener for me, you know?” Mick told the two, making the older men shoot him a puzzled look as he continued with a grin, “Who would’ve thought that it’ll take being Minnie’s grandpa for you to fight over the little things?”

Sebastian scoffed and Michael rolled his eyes.

Sebastian then grinned, “Had I known that Michael was going to be this insufferable as an in-law, I simply wouldn’t have let you date Barbie—“

Michael’s eyes widened and he looked at Sebastian with a baffled look, making Sebastian and Mick laugh aloud.

“Oh you two,” Michael muttered. “It’s no wonder why I’m Minna’s favourite.”

“Yeah, yeah, keep lying to yourself, Michael.”

“Yeah, whatever, Dad.”

♡ moony’s reminder 🅶 (general): @hiraethrhapsody @avaleineandafryingpan @topguncultleader

#formula one imagine #f1 imagine #formula one fic #formula one fanfiction #formula one fluff #f1 fluff #mick schumacher fanfic #mick schumacher imagine #mick schumacher fanfiction #mick schumacher #michael schumacher #ms47 #f1 fanfiction #formula one dad

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the-bad-batch-baroness · 6 months

Text

Fortunately Unfortunate

Jesse x GN!Reader

Summary: Jesse’s number is drawn in a lottery, forcing him to participate in a cross-training event with the 212th, and he’s not happy about it. However, his view of the training mission changes when he crashes into your life, literally.

Pairing: Jesse x GN!Reader

Characters: Jesse, Rex, Cody, Waxer, Boil, Sinker, Violet (OFC)

Tags & Warnings: 18+, grumpy Jesse, vehicular accident, no injuries, clone jokes, bad puns, shirtless clones, fluff, humor, angst with a happy ending, implied sexy time offscreen, suggestive themes

Word Count: 9.2k

Author's Note: Apologizing now for the word count (my small ideas never stay small), and for the fact that this fic only went through two rounds of editing before posting... This fic was written for @snippy-tano as part of the @rare-clone-fic-exchange. I hope you like it sweetie, and I hope you don’t mind the additional side characters 😘 As always, please enjoy 💚

@clonexreaderbingo Square: Tradition

“You can’t be serious?” Jesse groans with an exaggerated eye roll.

“I am,” Rex answers. “Your number was drawn, so you’re going.”

Jesse grunts. “This program is stupid!”

“This program is tradition,” Rex retorts.

“Can’t you send Fives?” Jesse asks. “He loves this stuff.”

“Fives’ number wasn’t drawn, yours was,” Rex crosses his arms and scowls. “ You’ll just have to learn to love it too.”

“But–”

“That’s an order,” Rex interjects.

Jesse grits his teeth. “Yes, sir.”

“Good,” Rex hands Jesse a data-pad. “Your transport leaves in an hour. I suggest you take that time to adjust your attitude. Cody is a good friend of mine and I don’t need you giving him grief.”

Jesse takes the data-pad. “Yes, sir.”

Rex turns to leave and Jesse is left in the cargo bay alone. He sighs as he sits down on a crate to review his new orders. Every month, the battalions swap a few clones in the name of “cross-training”. The clones are picked at random via lottery, and unfortunately for Jesse, his number was drawn this month. Out of the millions of clones, why did it have to be him? It’s not that he’s opposed to cross-training, but he shouldn’t be forced to leave his own battalion to do it.

Jesse swipes through the data-pad and skims over the details. He’s been assigned cross-training with the 212th attack battalion, specifically their ARF unit. He scoffs. The 501st has an ARF unit, and a darn good one. There’s no reason for him to be shipped off-world to play ARF trooper with a different battalion. If the GAR wants to cross-train clones so badly, then he should be able to do it with his own brothers, not with a bunch of clones he doesn’t know.

Jesse sets the data-pad down next to him on the crate and shakes his head. He wants to make Rex proud, but his heart just isn’t in it. Even if meeting a marshal commander does sound interesting, he knows he won’t be working with him exclusively. He’s an ARC, and he wants to do ARC things, and go on ARC missions with Fives and Echo. It's a shame that he’s missing out on their newest assignment. It sounded like a wild ride, and he was looking forward to it.

The intercom speaker interrupts Jesse’s thoughts to notify him that his transport is boarding and will be departing soon. With a heavy sigh, he hops off the crate, grabs his data-pad, and makes his way to the transport. He straps in and closes his eyes, letting his mind go blank as the transport whirs to life and delivers him to his new temporary post. The time it takes to get there is just under one standard rotation, so he takes this time to try to prepare himself for anything.

The transport lands and as the ramp descends, Jesse raises an arm to shield his eyes from the bright sun and the dust swirling into the transport. He steps down the ramp and observes his new surroundings, which isn’t much to look at. It’s a desert planet with little to no vegetation, and the sun glares down hot onto his plastoid armor. He experimentally grinds his foot into the tan earth beneath him and it shifts like powder until he reaches a layer of rock underneath.

“You must be Jesse,” Cody says on approach.

Jesse looks up to see the commander and straightens himself to attention. “Yes, sir!”

“Welcome to the 212th,” Cody gestures for Jesse to follow him. “I’ve heard good things about you from Rex. He says you’re one of his best.”

Jesse follows next to Cody as they make their way to the command center. “Just doing my duty to the Republic, sir.”

“He also mentioned that you’re not particularly fond of this assignment,” Cody adds.

Jesse grimaces and tries to backpedal. “With all due respect, sir, I only meant that I’d rather not be away from my brothers at the 501st when they might need me.”

“Fair enough,” Cody says. “However, if the survival of the entire battalion rests on you being there at all times, then perhaps Rex should be demoted.”

Jesse scrunches his face with indignation and raises his voice. “Captain Rex is–”

Cody turns on his heels to face Jesse and crosses his arms in a silent word of caution.

Jesse takes a startled half-step back and holds his tongue. “Nevermind, sir,” he stammers with embarrassment.

The rest of the walk to the command center is silent. Jesse kicks himself as he realizes how far he stuck his own foot into his mouth. So far that he’s surprised he hasn’t choked on it yet. He doesn’t want to embarrass Rex, yet here he is picking a fight with a marshal commander. It’s definitely one of the dumber things he’s done in his life. But, when it comes to his captain, Jesse finds it difficult to control his emotions. Their history together is too deep not to defend him.

When they enter the command center, Jesse sees two ARF troopers in camouflage armor with colors matching the tan dust that’s been sticking to him since he arrived. He also sees another trooper in gray and white armor standing next to them. As he gets closer, he can hear them chatting away about something nonsensical. He eyes the three clones and mentally sizes them up; not entirely sure what to make of them yet, but he’ll reserve judgment for now.

“This is Lieutenant Waxer and Boil,” Cody gestures with his hands. “They’re part of our elite ARF unit, Ghost Company, and will be conducting your training for the next few rotations.”

The four clones trade head nods of acknowledgement.

Cody turns to Jesse and the clone with gray armor. “I expect you to address them as you would a commanding officer, with respect. Follow their orders and do what they ask of you.”

“Yes, sir!” Jesse and the other clone affirm.

Cody nods. “I’ll leave you to it.”

A moment of silence passes between the four clones as an awkward air blows in.

Waxer is the first to speak up. “Do you guys have names?”

“I’m Jesse,” Jesse answers and stretches out his hand to shake that of the two ARFs. “With the 501st.”

The clone in the gray armor follows suit. “I’m Sinker, with the 104th.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Boil adds.

Another awkward silence passes between the clones and Jesse starts to question the validity of his new assignment. Perhaps this whole thing is a big joke and he can board the next transport off this dust bowl. He absentmindedly grinds his foot into the dusty floor, a habit he picked up somewhere during the war to keep him from running his mouth when he’s bored. If someone doesn’t say something soon, he might, and they probably won’t like what it is.

“Alright, boys,” Waxer says with a gesture of his head towards the door. “We’re heading out to the corral.”

“Corral?” Jesse asks, raising an eyebrow. “Are we learning to ride animals?”

Boil chuckles. “Sort of.”

Jesse looks at Sinker, hoping that he’s on his side about how crazy this whole thing sounds.

Sinker shrugs. “Sounds fun.”

The three clones head out of the command center, leaving Jesse alone in his bewilderment. When his brain catches up to him, he jogs up to the rear and follows them out to the so-called corral. Although, Jesse wouldn’t call it a “corral”. It’s just a barricaded motor pool full of AT-RTs. A part of Jesse is relieved that he doesn’t actually have to ride any animals, but his intuition tells him that whatever they have planned isn’t going to be as easy as he thinks.

Waxer stops in front of the barricade and addresses the squad. “As part of your cross-training in the ARF unit, you’re each going to learn how to ride an AT-RT.”

“Don’t you mean drive?” Jesse interrupts.

“No,” Waxer answers. “An AT-RT isn’t just some machine you can climb on and control. It takes concentration, skill, dexterity, and a mutual understanding between you and the walker. You don’t drive an AT-RT, you ride it.”

Jesse rolls his eyes. There’s a reason he’s an ARC and not an ARF. He doesn’t have the patience for these pansies, talking about a machine as if it’s a living animal. What utter nonsense.

“Shinies don’t even look at an AT-RT until they can show competency riding a living breathing animal,” Boil continues the explanation. “Since both of you are well-established and accomplished soldiers, we figured we could skip the live animal part and see what you’re made of.”

A smirk flashes across Sinker’s face and Jesse realizes he’s alone in his feelings about the training. He grinds his foot against the dusty earth again, feeling way out of his element. ARCs don’t “ride” AT-RTs, they infiltrate enemy lines, perform sabotage, steal secrets, and tip the scales of an assault. His last hope that he might get some in depth reconnaissance training has officially been dashed as Waxer opens the corral and ushers them inside to show them the AT-RTs.

“Do you name them?” Sinker asks as he inspects one of the units.

“Of course!” Waxer exclaims with a proud smile. He pats the side of the unit Sinker is looking at. “This one’s name is Sella. She’s a little glitchy, but she’s seen a lot of combat.”

If Jesse rolled his eyes any harder, they would roll right out of his head.

“Can I ride her?” Sinker asks, his eyes bright.

“Eh, not for your first ride,” Waxer says. “Like I said, she’s a little glitchy.” Waxer moves across the motor pool to another unit and pats the side. “Vala here will be a good starter for you.”

Sinker punches Jesse’s shoulder in excitement and heads over to where Waxer is standing. Jesse rubs his shoulder in mock discomfort, then crosses his arms. He’s still not convinced this is proper ARF training. He wants to be looking at charts and battle strategies, not galivanting around in AT-RTs. There’s nothing useful about this exercise that he can take back to his unit, unless they let him take the AT-RT as a souvenir, which he highly doubts they would.

“How about this one for you?” Boil asks while leaning against another unit. “Her name is Mina and she’s pretty gentle on the new guys.”

Jesse huffs and approaches the AT-RT. “Sure.”

The AT-RT training goes just as well as Waxer and Boil expect. Both Jesse and Sinker fall off their AT-RTs multiple times just on start-up, when the machine initially jerks to life. The breath is knocked out of Jesse’s lungs more times than he can count and he wonders if Kix can order him a replacement set if he ever makes it back to the 501st alive. The only buffer he has is his ARC armor and it’s not enough to prevent the litany of bruises from growing on every part of his body.

By rotations end, Jesse and Sinker manage to stay on their AT-RTs and even take a few steps forward with them. It’s been hard work, but they’re finally seeing the fruits of their labor and Jesse’s ego is just as bruised as his thighs. He gets it now. He understands what they mean by riding an AT-RT instead of driving it. It’s not like a starfighter or an ATTE that he’s driven in simulations. No, these things are like living animals and they need to be respected as such.

At the end of the training session, Jesse doesn’t stop for food at the mess hall. Instead, he hobbles to the medbay for some bacta, then makes his way to the barracks. He gingerly pulls his armor off, each flex of muscle a new sensation of pain. He winces and grunts until it all comes off and he stacks it neatly beside his assigned bunk. He pulls out a ration bar from his pack and settles onto the cot, mindlessly munching away at the bland bar while trying not to move.

Tomorrow, they’re taking the AT-RTs out on a fake reconnaissance mission. He’s not sure who decided that he and Sinker are ready to take the AT-RTs into the field, but he definitely doesn’t feel ready. He doesn’t even know if he’ll be able to move when he wakes up in the morning, let alone climb onto the back of an AT-RT and ride it out into the middle of who-knows-where. Just the thought of his legs doing that climbing motion again makes his thighs twitch in protest.

The next morning, Jesse wakes when the sun rises and its rays shine into the barracks. He was right, his entire body objects to him moving even one inch off of his cot, but he doesn’t have a choice. He feels like a cadet all over again. Like he just went through a rigorous course of simulations and he needs to go again. Those are days he wishes he didn’t have to remember. He’s much stronger now, and more resilient, but his aching thighs force his recollections.

Jesse swings by the medbay before meeting up with the others at the corral. He begs the medic on duty for anything he can give him to help soothe the pain. He’ll even take a muscle relaxer at this point, even if it makes him drowsy. The medic takes pity on him, tosses him a small bottle of painkillers, and threatens him not to mention it to anybody or he’d be returning to his battalion in a bodybag. That’s a risk Jesse is willing to take. Besides, Kix has threatened him with much worse.

Jesse downs a few of the pills, stuffs the bottle out of sight in one of his belt pouches, and heads to the corral. Everyone else is already there, and he hopes that he isn't too late that they make an issue about it. Luckily, no one mentions his tardiness, but Waxer does have a small grin on his face that makes Jesse suspicious. He wonders how much enjoyment Waxer and Boil get out of torturing their shinies with this training, because clearly they know why he’s late.

Waxer gives the squad a short briefing on their fake mission. He pulls out the data-pad with the map coordinates on it, their rendezvous point, the intel they’re supposed to be acquiring, and any enemy obstacles in their way. This is what Jesse has been after ever since the beginning of the cross-training. He studies everything Waxer shows them, eagerly consuming all of the information and stuffing it away in his brain to use later when he’s back with his own battalion.

After the mission briefing is over, they mount their AT-RTs, Jesse on Mina and Sinker on Vala. Waxer and Boil mount their personal AT-RTs, the ones they’ve been using since they became ARF troopers, and the squad heads out into the desert. Unlike Waxer and Boil, Jesse and Sinker do not have ARF trooper armor. Since the mission is fake, there is no need to outfit them. The squad looks rather odd up close, but from a distance no one can tell they’re mismatched.

The squad spends hours in the desert. The constant back and forth motion on the AT-RT has Jesse convinced he’s also going to need a spine replacement. He wonders how hard it will be to requisition and if there’s a special form he needs to fill out. He tries to pop a few more painkillers but as the AT-RT continues to lunge forward like a jack-rabbit, it makes the task very difficult. In all honesty, he’d rather be dropped out of a LAAT without a jetpack than do this full time.

Around mid-day, Waxer calls over the comms to let the squad know that they’ll be stopping for a break soon. He gives them the coordinates for the only known piece of civilization within ten klicks of their location, and they all head in that direction. Jesse can’t wait. His back, thighs, and butt all thank the Maker that he’s going to be able to rest soon, even if he has to fall off the AT-RT instead of hopping off. At this point, he’s not even sure his arms are still attached to his body.

As they approach their rest-stop, Waxer gives the order for the squad to halt. Waxer, Boil, and Sinker all stop relatively close together, but Jesse keeps going.

“Jesse, halt,” Waxer calls through the comms.

“It won’t stop,” Jesse calls back while pressing every button he can think of to try and stop.

“What do you mean it won’t stop?” Waxer asks as he watches Jesse move further away.

“I mean, it won’t stop!” Jesse yells.

“Hit the emergency brake,” Boil orders into the comms.

“I did,” Jesse answers. He refuses to panic, but the building is getting closer and his AT-RT is not obeying his commands. “I think there’s an electrical malfunction.”

“Great,” Waxer sighs. “Just steer her out of harm's way and we can figure it out.”

“About that…” Jesse pauses. His heart rate increases as the building is looking a lot bigger than it did a few seconds ago. “The steering isn’t responding either.”

“Bail!” Waxer calls as he starts his unit up and rushes over. “Bail, Jesse, bail!”

It’s too late. Jesse braces as his AT-RT crashes into the side of the building.

“Order up for table twelve!” the cook calls from the kitchen as he rings the bell at the end of the order window.

“Coming!” you answer, then rush over to grab the order.

“What’s the hold up?” the cook asks. “Are you daydreaming again?”

“Only everyday I’m stuck working here,” you sing back with a sweet smile.

The cook huffs. “Just make sure the customers are fed. You don’t get paid to daydream.”

“Yes, sir!” you answer with a mock salute as you balance the tray of food on one hand.

You turn around and roll your eyes before walking the food over to table twelve. You’ve been stuck working at this diner for four cycles now with no end in sight. It’s not the worst job you could have, but with the small amount you’re being paid with no raises in the near future, you’ll never be able to afford to go find a new one. It’s an endless cycle of work, work, work, and never any time for yourself or what you want to do. It’s agonizing, but it’s all you have.

The only reason you even have this job is to pay off your parent’s debt. They left you on this barren rock to go on their “galactic tour” and never returned. From what you know, they made a deal with the owner of the diner to ensure you had a place to stay, and in return, when you were old enough, you would work for him to pay off the debt. It’s definitely not the life you would’ve chosen, but it’s the life you have been given, and you should be grateful for even that much.

Your only solace is your best friend Violet. She also works at the diner and hates it as much as you do. The two of you became fast friends when you first started working at the diner and now you spend all of your free time together. Violet also doesn’t have any parents planet-side, so there’s an even deeper connection between the two of you and an unspoken understanding about life. At least you have each other, is what you tell yourself when things get unbearable.

“Tooka got your tongue?” Violet asks as she peers over your shoulder.

“Ah!” you startle. “Where’d you come from?”

“Table eight,” Violet answers. “You had that look in your eye again.”

“What look?” you ask.

“The dreamy and distant one,” Violet answers with a flip of her hair.

You groan. “That obvious, huh?”

“If you were any more obvious, you’d have a neon sign stuck to your forehead,” Violet laughs.

You sigh. “Don’t you want more?”

“More what?” Violet asks.

“I don’t know,” you answer. “More anything.”

Violet thinks for a moment. “Yeah, more sleep and more credits.”

You pout. “Besides that.”

“What else is there?” Violet asks as she picks up another tray of food.

“Oh, you know…” you trail your voice quietly while bussing the table next to hers. “Like love and stuff.”

Violet snorts. “What? Love? Out here? In this dust bowl? You’re nuts.”

“I am not!” you retort. “It could happen.”

“Yeah, sure,” Violet rolls her eyes, “because gorgeous and attractive people just tumble into our diner like it’s a speed-dating site.”

“I–”

CRASH

The violent shockwave shakes the diner to its core and knocks both you and Violet off of your feet and flat onto the ground. You instinctively cover your head as pieces of debris and dust fall from the ceiling. The patrons in the diner start screaming and run past you to the diner exit as you lay on the floor, stunned by what just happened. You slowly open your eyes and look over at Violet, making sure she’s okay. She looks dazed, but nods and you both help each other up.

“Kriffing banthas!” you exclaim. “What was that?”

“I don’t know,” Violet says with a shaky voice, still in shock.

You turn around and see a gaping hole in the side of the diner and your eyes grow wide. A mess of twisted dura-steel, snapped electrical wires, and broken water pipes are poking out in every direction. You’re not sure what to make of it. You tilt your head from side to side trying to figure out what happened until you see a clone trooper’s body laying under some debris. You rush over, climbing through the rubble to get to the trapped man. He’s unconscious, but breathing.

“Violet, help me!” you call back. “He’s trapped!”

Violet climbs up alongside of you and you each grab an arm, tugging with all of your might, but it’s no use, he’s too heavy. You pant at the exertion and look around for anything that you could use for leverage. But before you can make your next move, three more clone troopers burst through the front door of the diner. They look around frantically before meeting your gaze as you wave your hands to try and get their attention. They must be with the clone that’s trapped.

“Over here!” you call out to them. “He’s over here!”

The three clones rush over and replace you and Violet. The two troopers in camouflage lift the debris and the third clone in gray armor pulls the trapped clone out from underneath it. They carry him away from the debris pile and lay him on top of one of the diner tables. The clone in gray armor pulls out a bag with a medic symbol on it and rummages through it. Finding what he’s looking for, he scans over the unconscious clone with the device, then sighs in relief.

“No internal injuries,” the gray clone says. “Looks like he just got knocked out. He’s lucky.”

One of the clones in camouflage shakes his head. “Of all the things to go wrong.”

“At least he’s not dead,” the other clone in camouflage says. “Try explaining that to Commander Cody and Captain Rex.”

The first clone in camouflage visually bristles.

“Um, excuse me,” you interrupt with a slight raise of your hand.

The first clone in camouflage takes his helmet off. “Apologies, I’m Waxer, with the 212th.” He points to the clone next to him. “This is Boil, also with the 212th, and that’s Sinker, with the 104th.” He looks down at the clone on the table. “And that one is Jesse, from the 501st.”

“Pleasure…” you say as you try to take it all in. There’s so many numbers and names, you’re not sure how you’ll keep them all straight.

“Wait, hold on,” Violet interjects, dumbfounded. “Y’all just crashed into our diner and you're exchanging pleasantries like you met at the local market?”

“Correction,” Boil says. “Jesse crashed into your diner.”

Violet’s jaw drops and she turns to you. “Are these guys for real?”

“I assure you ma’am,” Sinker says. “We are, in fact, real clones.”

You start to snicker and Violet throws her hands up in defeat. “You know what, I’ve had enough for one day.” She takes her dusty and torn apron off and tosses it on the ground with the rest of the debris. “I do not get paid enough to deal with clowns!”

“Don’t you mean, clones?” Boil asks.

“I meant what I said!” Violet yells back as she navigates around the debris to the exit.

You try to stifle a laugh, but fail. “Don’t worry about her. She’s just stressed. It’s not every day we get clones crashing into our diner.”

Waxer rubs the back of his neck. “Oh, yeah, sorry about that. One of the AT-RTs had a malfunction and Jesse couldn’t get it to stop.”

“I see,” you look down at the clone on the table and knit your brows with worry. You feel bad for him. It must have been scary, being stuck on an uncontrollable collision course and knowing you can’t do anything to stop it from happening. Well, at least for you it would have been scary. You’re not even sure if clones feel fear. It’s not something you’ve ever thought about, until now.

“We’ll fix the wall for you,” Waxer says. “Might take us a couple rotations, but we’ll get it done.”

“The owner will definitely appreciate it,” you smile. You’re not quite sure where the cook went off to, but he must have bailed when the wall was smashed. That coward. He talks a lot about your head being stuck in the clouds, but when things go wrong, you’re the only one keeping a level head.

“Can you stay with him?” Waxer asks. “We need to comm our superiors.”

“Yeah, sure,” you agree, then pull out one of the table chairs to take a seat. You didn’t realize how much your legs were shaking until you were sitting down and relieving them of their duty, but now that the adrenaline is wearing off, you’re starting to feel exhausted.

You watch Jesse like Waxer asked you too, but to be honest, you’re not sure what you’re supposed to be watching. You look him over from head to toe and take in all of his features. He’s wearing different armor than the other three clones, but it’s not the standard issue clone armor that you see in the news either. You’re not sure what it is. He’s got two thick leather skirt-looking things around his thighs, two holsters, and a big flappy thing across his shoulders.

You shrug and continue your examination. He also has some type of pouch on his chest that looks like it could either hold ammo or snacks. You figure both are important. There’s also an extra chest plate on top of the standard one. Must be for extra protection. You then look at the blue markings that adorn his arms and legs and wonder if they have any meaning. The last thing you look at is his face. There’s a huge GAR tattoo covering one side. Curious, but not bizarre.

You lean over his body to get a better view, when you hear him stir. You quickly remove yourself and wave your hand over his face to try and get him to wake up.

“Hey,” you call. “Wake up, Jesse.”

Jesse groans as he comes to. “Am I dead?”

You chuckle. “No, just got a little knocked around.”

Jesse hisses as he tries to sit up and raises a hand to hold the side of his head. “Ow, my head.”

“It’s gonna hurt a bit,” you say. “That was a nasty crash.”

Jesse closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose. “What crash?”

“You don’t remember?” you ask in concern.

Jesse opens his eyes, and as they finally focus, he sees the mess of twisted dura-steel and a crushed AT-RT within it. His body jolts at the memory. “The building!”

“Whoa!” you put your hands on Jesse’s shoulders to try and get him to calm down. “Easy, Jesse, easy.”

Jesse breathes heavily at the new surge of adrenaline, but settles down. He shoots you a quizzical look. “Who are you and how do you know my name?”

“Oh, right,” you laugh nervously then introduce yourself. “I’m a waitress here and your friends are just outside. They pulled you out of the rubble and told me to watch you.”

Jesse leans his head back against the table and groans. “Rex is going to kill me.”

“Who’s Rex?” you ask to try to keep him talking. Concussions are very serious, and without knowing if he has one, you don’t want him falling unconscious again.

“My captain,” Jesse answers. He drapes an arm over his face. “He’s the one that sent me to this desolate dust bowl.”

You chuckle at his disdain for the planet.

“Oh, sorry,” Jesse apologizes. “I guess this is your home, huh? I didn’t mean to be rude.”

“No worries,” you wave off the remark and smile. “I think it’s a dust bowl, too.”

Jesse chuckles.

“I’m sorry about your AT… thing,” you offer, trying to remember the exact acronym.

Jesse laughs. “Don’t worry, it wasn’t mine.”

You snort and then laugh along with him. “You’re funny.”

“And you’re pretty,” Jesse blurts out.

You stop laughing as you process what he said. “You think I’m pretty?”

Jesse’s stomach flips when he realizes his thoughts didn’t stay in his head. “Kriff, did I say that out loud?”

“Uh, yeah,” you answer nervously, your face feeling warm.

“Maker, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean that,” Jesse apologizes, the embarrassment written all over his face.

“So, you don’t think I’m pretty?” you ask.

“Uh, no, I mean yes, well, you see,” Jesse stammers, then gives up trying to explain himself. He sighs. “I think my brain got scrambled in the crash.”

You chuckle and pat his arm. “It’s okay. I forgive you.”

After your short but awkward conversation with Jesse, the three clones reassemble in the diner to debrief the now awake Jesse. Waxer commed Cody, Boil commed Rex, and Sinker commed Wolffe, although from the sweat on Sinker’s face, you can tell who has the most commanding officer of them all. The consensus is that the GAR will pay for the damages and the four clones will repair the diner wall. None of them seem too thrilled about it, and you don’t blame them.

By the time the excitement has calmed down, and the materials to fix the diner are located, it’s nightfall and you are exhausted. You’re practically dead on your feet, body swaying with your broom while trying to clean up some of the debris on the other end of the diner. You’re the only staff member left to help clean up, so you chose to stay. Of course won’t be paid for any of this, but the faster the diner is back in business, the faster you can start getting paid again.

You dump another dust pan of rubble into the trash receptacle, then plop down onto one of the stools lining the diner counter. You yawn wide and lean your elbow on the counter, propping your face up as you close your eyelids for just a moment to rest. The moment must have lasted longer than you expected, because when you open your eyes again, you wake up in one of the booths with a blanket on top of you and another one folded under your head for use as a pillow.

It’s still dark out, the moonlight beaming in through the large transparisteel panes that line the front of the diner, and you sit up to get your bearings. There’s three clones nestled on the floor, all tangled up together in a mess of armor and limbs. You’re not sure how sleeping like that is comfortable, but more power to them. You realize Jesse is missing, and you pop your head up over the booth to look for him, hoping that he hasn’t wandered off somewhere and gotten lost.

You tiptoe around the sleeping clones, blanket hung around your shoulders to keep the desert chill out, and walk around looking for Jesse. He’s not inside the diner, so you walk outside. You really hope he didn’t leave to relieve himself and you’re about to walk in on something you’re not prepared to see, and luckily you don’t. You circle the entire building and you still can’t find him. Finally, you hear your name being called and you look up to see two legs dangling from the roof.

You shake your head and climb up the side ladder to join Jesse on the roof.

“You should be asleep,” he says, not moving his gaze from the horizon.

“So, should you,” you retort back. “You’re injured.”

“I’m fine,” he dismisses. “Barely even a scratch on me.”

You sit next to him and let your feet hang off the edge. “I was talking about your brain.”

Jesse chuckles. “That’s fine, too.”

“No more accidentally calling me pretty?” you jest.

“Not making any promises on that one,” he smirks.

You smile and fidget with the edges of the blanket. “Did you move me to the booth?”

“Hope you don’t mind,” he answers. “That counter was doing nothing for your back. Probably should’ve asked first.”

“Oh, no,” you dismiss with a wave of your hand. “I just wanted to say thank you.”

Jesse smiles. “You’re welcome, mesh’la.”

You don’t remember falling asleep on the rooftop, but when you awaken feeling like a rolled up burrito with Jesse’s arm draped across your side, the memories start to come back. You must have talked for a while before dozing off, because you feel like you barely got any sleep at all. The blanket wrapped around you is tight and you wiggle to try to get yourself free from it, but as you do, you start to roll away. You panic slightly before feeling Jesse’s firm hand stopping you.

“Going somewhere?” he asks, his voice rough with sleep.

“Thought I’d roll myself to work today,” you answer.

Jesse raises an eyebrow. “How’s that working out for you?”

You wiggle against the restraining blanket. “Ten out of ten would not recommend.”

Jesse snorts and sits up. “I didn’t want you to get cold or fall off the roof.”

“Appreciate it,” you strain out as you wriggle some more. “Please help me.”

Jesse unravels your blanket cocoon and helps you to your feet. You straighten your dirty uniform out and climb down the ladder to get the day started with Jesse trailing behind you. Violet is already inside the diner, chatting with the other three clones. She gives you a knowing look when she sees you walk in with Jesse, but doesn’t say anything. You’re just happy she’s here to help. When she stormed off yesterday, you weren’t sure if she was going to come back.

As the clones start discussing their plan of attack, the two of you decide the best way to start the day is to eat a hearty breakfast. There’s a lot of work to be done and everyone is going to need as much energy as they can get. The cook never came back, but that’s of no matter, you know how to cook. In no time, a full breakfast and hot caf is served. You dust off some of the debris before placing the plates and mugs down on the table and everyone digs in.

Once breakfast is over, the four clones get to work hauling away the large debris pieces from the wall and the crushed AT-RT. You offer the use of the dumpster in the back of the building, but they insist that the GAR will come pick it up and you should use the dumpster for smaller debris. You don’t argue with them and set out with Violet to clean whatever you can of the mess inside the diner, making sure to wear gloves so you don’t cut your hands on any sharp pieces.

As the day continues, the desert heat begins to seep into the diner. The crash must have broken the refrigerant lines, but with the gaping hole in the side of the diner, the climate control wouldn’t be of much use anyway. You and Violet switch gears and make a refreshing batch of Tatooine Sunset to ensure everyone stays hydrated. You also put damp towels in the conservator to help cool everyone off during breaks. It’s barely midday and you know it’s only going to get hotter.

Soon enough, the clones start shedding their armor, at least the top halves of their armor. You’ve never seen a clone without their armor, but honestly, you haven’t seen that many clones to begin with. It’s when they start taking the top black portion of their bodysuits off that you really take notice. They’re jacked. You stand back in one of the corners, mindlessly moving your broom as you watch them work. Not a single piece of debris makes it into the dustpan.

Violet elbows you in the side.

“Ow!” you exclaim. “What was that for?”

“You’re staring,” Violet answers.

“Am not,” you argue.

Violet crosses her arms. “Four hot, shirtless men are flexing their muscles and sweating in our diner, and you’re not staring?”

You purse your lips trying not to give her any satisfaction.

“Well, I’m going to stare,” Violet says. “I mean, look at those abs. But the difference is that I can stare and sweep.”

You roll your eyes and push some garbage into the dustpan.

“You wanted more,” Violet says as she nonchalantly scoots away with her broom. “Well, more is standing over there with a giant tattoo on his head.”

You open your mouth to protest, but she’s too far away. You hate it when she does that. Violet always seems to know what you’re thinking before you’ve even thought it yourself. According to her it’s her gift to the world, but really, it’s just a nuisance. She is right, though, because Jesse does make your heart flutter. You’ve just met him, but it's like you’ve known him your entire life. Talking to him feels as natural as breathing, and for the first time, you truly feel fortunate for your job at the diner.

You lean on your broom and start staring again, watching Jesse walk over to the rubble, pick up a large piece, then carry it out of the diner and drop it onto the pile. Each movement he makes causes the muscles in his arms and torso to ripple with dramatic effect. The sweat that drips down his body only serves to accentuate how toned he is. Before you even realize it, Jesse’s looking at you and you nearly fall off your broom in embarrassment, but he smiles at you.

You continue cleaning up the diner while stealing glances at Jesse, but he also glances back. You want so badly just to sit down and talk with him more. Your conversation on the rooftop last night was a lot of fun and you both shared different things about your lives. You told him about your parents and how you got stuck working at the diner, and he told you about his battalion and how he got stuck going on this training mission. Both equally unfortunate, but now, it feels okay.

The late afternoon break comes around, so you and Violet make another batch of Tatooine Sunset, as well as some sandwiches. The clones inhale the sandwiches so fast that you’re embarrassed you didn’t make more. You offer to, but they turn you down, being grateful just for the opportunity to eat real food instead of rations. You smile and turn back towards the kitchen. Jesse follows you through the double-doors and leans his hot back against the cool conservator.

“Like what you see?” Jesse asks with a smirk.

You turn around to look at him. “The wall’s coming along nice.”

Jesse scrunches his nose. “You weren’t staring at the wall.”

“How do you know?” you jest. “Maybe I like walls.”

Jesse tilts his head to the side and folds his arms over his bare chest. “Are you sure you don’t like something else?”

You groan. “You’re going to make me say it, aren’t you?”

Jesse gives you a devilish grin.

“Fine,” you sigh. “I like what I see.”

“I knew it,” Jesse says, a little too excited.

“Maker above, would you two please get a room!” Violet exclaims from the order window. “I’m so sick of you staring at each other. The closet is empty if you’re looking for a place to smash.”

“Violet!” you yell as your face flushes with embarrassment.

Jesse snorts. “That closet can barely fit a broom.”

“Then kiss or something,” Violet says. “Anything to get you two back to work.”

Jesse pushes off the conservator and heads towards the double doors. “You heard the task-master.”

“Wait,” you call. “Aren't you going to kiss me?”

Jesse stops and turns his head. “Do you want me to kiss you?”

You fidget with your hem. “Kinda.”

“Kinda isn’t a yes or a no,” Jesse says.

“Yes,” you correct. “I want you to kiss me.”

Jesse takes his hand off the double doors and walks over to you. Your eyes dart around as your nerves start to get the better of you. You can’t believe you just asked him to kiss you. You’ve never kissed anyone before. What if you’re bad at it? What if he doesn’t like it? What if you accidentally bite him? Maker, your stomach is in knots. Your breathing becomes heavier as he gets closer, but your nervous energy comes to a halt when he cups the side of your face.

Jesse smooths his thumb over your cheek and gives you a reassuring smile. He dips his head and tilts it to the side before pressing his lips against yours. His lips are warm and their touch ever so gentle as they melt into yours. You place your hands on his chest and all of your worries and concerns slip away as all you can think about is Jesse. You don’t want this moment to end, but eventually he pulls back, breaking the kiss, leaving you breathless and wanting for more.

Without a single word, Jesse turns on his heels and leaves the kitchen to go back to work fixing the wall. You stand there, alone in the kitchen, completely dazed by what just happened. You’re not sure if you’re dreaming or not, but you’re too afraid to pinch yourself to find out. You press your fingers to your lips, thinking about the kiss, and your body warms. You’re not sure how you can work now, but you do know that you’ll be spending every spare moment you have with Jesse.

Finally the repairs are complete and tonight is your last night with Jesse. Your stomach aches at the thought of him leaving. Only a couple of rotations ago, he crashed into your life and stole your heart. You didn’t mean to fall for him, but his soulful brown eyes and bright smile captivated you. Besides, the feelings are mutual. You don’t want him to leave, but you know he can’t stay. He’s a soldier, with things to do and places to go, and you’re just a waitress at a diner in the middle of nowhere.

You’re spending your last night together sitting up on the rooftop of the diner, legs dangling over the edge, as you gaze up at the moon and soak in each other’s presence. It’s quiet, like it usually is in the desert, and not a soul would dare to disturb this moment, not even Violet. You want your last night with Jesse to be a memorable one, and what better way to end it then with the way you started it; on the roof. It may be silly to some, but it makes the pain a little easier.

“You’re leaving tomorrow,” you say sadly.

“Yeah,” Jesse answers, equally feeling sad about his departure.

“I don’t want you to go,” you admit as your voice quivers.

Jesse wraps an arm around you and pulls you against his side, leaning his head atop yours. “I don’t want to go either.”

“Stay?” you ask.

“You know I can’t,” Jesse sighs.

“Please,” you plead while nuzzling into his neck. “Don’t go.”

Jesse’s heart breaks. He picks his head up and cups the side of your face, leaning in and closing his eyes to capture your soft lips with his own. You press your body against his, deepening the kiss until Jesse is laying flat against the roof and you’re straddling over his stomach. Your lips are locked as Jesse glides his rough hands over your smooth back, pulling your shirt in different directions as he maps out the plains of your body.

Jesse breaks the kiss for a moment. “Come back to Coruscant with me,” he whispers while ghosting his lips over yours before nipping at your bottom lip and pulling them back against his.

Now it’s your turn to break the kiss. “Jesse–”

“We could get an apartment,” he cuts you off before you can protest, then plants a gentle kiss on the corner of your mouth. “I’ll take care of you.” Another kiss finds its mark. “My vode will adore you.” A gentle suck at your bottom lip. “We’ll make lots of babies.” He smirks and you can’t stop the giggle from forming.

You sit up and release a soft sigh. “Sounds nice.”

Jesse reaches up and cups your chin. “But?”

You melt into his caress for a moment before removing his hand from your face. “But I can’t.”

Jesse bends his knees so you can lean back against them, then laces his fingers under his head. “Why not?”

You absently draw small circles around his chest with your fingers, the longing evident in your actions but missing from your words. “My home is here.”

“I could be your home,” Jesse reassures with a small smile.

You briefly smile back and tap at his chest. “What if something happens to you? I’ll be alone.”

Jesse knits his brows and frowns, fully understanding your hesitation. He’s a soldier, created to be expendable. His brothers die every day and no one bats an eyelash. There’s no guarantees that he’ll come back from his next campaign alive, but still, he wants this. He wants you.

Jesse untangles his fingers from behind his head and takes both of your hands in his own, kissing them tenderly. “I can’t promise tomorrow,” he admits. “I can only promise now.”

A single tear rolls down your cheek. “Then can I have you, at least right now?”

Jesse wipes your tear with his thumb, then flips you onto your back so he’s hovering over you. He leans down and presses his lips to yours once again, yearning to taste as much of you as possible. If this is his only moment with you, then he wants to remember everything. Every sweet taste, every curve, every bump, and every heavenly sound you’ll make for him as he ravages your body with only the moon above as a witness.

“Jesse,” you say his name breathlessly as your desire builds. “I want–”

Jesse places a finger against your lips to hush you. “I know, mesh’la,” he soothes while rubbing his finger across your plush lips before gently pushing it into your mouth, causing you to gasp. “We’ve got all night.”

The light of the rising sun pierces through your eyelids, rousing you from your slumber. The morning comes quicker than you expect and you groan as you sit yourself up on the hard dura-steel roof. You rub the sleep from your eyes and look over to your right, expecting Jesse to still be sleeping, but he’s gone. Your heart sinks and you whip your head around to make sure he didn’t get up and stretch his legs, but you don’t see him. He must have left before you awoke.

Holding tears back, you stand up and pat down your wrinkled and disheveled clothes, trying to regain some semblance of normalcy. But who are you kidding? How could you ever be normal again after a night like that? A night of romance, passion, and longing that made you feel everything and nothing all at the same time. You know this is for the best. He’ll go back to Coruscant, back to the war, and you’ll be here, working your minimum wage job.

You break at the thought. Dropping to your knees you begin to sob, grieving over what you let go of. You don’t want Jesse to leave. You don’t want him to be a one night stand. You want a life with him. Even if it means him being away for weeks at a time or that he may leave and never come back. That slim chance is lightyears better than never seeing him again, than never feeling his burning touch on your skin or hearing his deep voice whisper sweetly in your ear.

You have to go after him. You can’t let him leave, not without you. Maybe it’s selfish, but you don’t care. Burdened with the thought of never seeing him again, you wipe your face, pick yourself up, and head to the ledge. You grab the ladder and stare off into the distance, wondering if you’ll catch a glimpse of him, but you don’t. You may be too late. Regardless, you slip down the ladder, ignoring the rungs and land with a thud onto the dusty ground.

You’re breathing heavily, your hair is a mess, and your clothes are horribly wrinkled, but you don’t care. You push open the front door violently. “I quit!”

Violet looks up at you from where she’s mopping the floor and pauses to lean on her mop with a knowing smile. Love wins, she guesses, and she’s right.

You walk over to Violet and throw your arms around her. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

“I know,” Violet says as she hugs you tightly.

“I’ll miss you,” you whisper, the tears barely held back.

“I’ll miss you too,” Violet answers with a tremble in her voice. She breaks your embrace and composes herself. “Now go, or you won’t catch him.”

You reluctantly let go of your best friend, and with tears in your eyes, you back away and leave.

“You got everything?” Waxer asks as he carries another crate into the transport that’s taking Jesse back to Coruscant.

“Hm?” Jesse snaps out of his daze. “Oh, yeah,” Jesse answers, and then pauses. “I… I left something in the desert.”

“I hope it wasn’t valuable,” Waxer laughs.

Jesse stares out towards the dusty horizon and sighs. “Priceless, actually.”

Waxer claps a comforting hand on Jesse’s shoulder. “Sorry to hear that.”

Jesse gives Waxer a half smile, but it quickly fades back into a frown. His transport leaves within the hour and he wonders if he made a mistake by not saying goodbye. He thought if he left without a word, it would be easier for both of you, but he was wrong. His chest feels tight and his heart aches. What he wouldn’t give to hear your voice one more time. He didn’t think it was possible to leave this dusty planet more upset than when he first landed, and yet here he is.

Jesse takes one last look at the place he initially despised, then turns to board the transport. It’s not just you that he left in the desert. He left his heart there too, on the rooftop of that old diner. He sits on one of the crates in the back of the transport and leans his head against the cold frame. He didn’t want this assignment. He didn’t want to come here. It could have been any other clone, but no, his number was drawn. The universe has a cruel sense of humor.

Before the ramp closes, Jesse hears someone calling for the transport to halt. Leaving his bucket on the crate, he makes his way back down the ramp to ask what’s delaying the departure, thinking it might be something mechanical. However, as he barely steps off the ramp and onto the dusty earth, he sees a speeder in the distance. He grabs a pair of scopes from a nearby clone trooper and dials in on the speeder. His breath catches in his throat. It’s you.

Jesse gives the scopes back to the clone trooper he took them from and starts walking away from the transport, his heart beating rapidly out of his chest, wondering if it’s really true or if the desert heat is playing tricks on him. Did you just want to say goodbye or do you want to go with him? He doesn’t dare let himself think the latter. You made it clear to him last night that you won’t go with him, but he wants to hope so badly. He wants to believe that it’s the only reason.

The speeder comes to a screeching halt a couple yards away from Jesse and he watches with bated breath as you jump out of it and sprint towards him.

“Jesse!” you yell as tears fall from your face.

Jesse smiles and opens his arms. You jump into them without a second thought and bury your face into his neck. He wraps his arms around you and lifts you off of the ground and onto his hips, one arm cradling your butt and the other securing around your back.

“I didn’t think I was going to make it in time,” you cry.

“You made it, mesh’la,” Jesse soothes as he kisses your cheek. “I’m sorry I didn’t say goodbye.”

You pick your head up and look at him through blurry vision, a small smile growing on your lips. “Not goodbye. I’m going with you.”

Jesse’s eyes dart around your face, looking for any semblance that you’re joking or maybe this is a dream, but he can’t find anything. “You’re coming with me? To Coruscant?”

You nod your head, afraid that your voice will crack if you try to use it again.

Jesse squeezes you tighter, terrified that at any moment you’ll be ripped away from him. He can’t believe that you changed your mind, that you’re going back with him. His thoughts race a mile a minute as he thinks about your future together. He has a stake in this war now, something worth fighting for that wasn’t thrust upon him by someone else or programmed into him as duty and loyalty. No, now he has you, and he will fight this war to make sure you stay safe in his arms.

“Let’s go home,” Jesse says as he carries you into the transport.

You smile and rest your head on his shoulder. “I’d like that.”

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choochooboss · 3 months

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Introducing your station master & Magma event host!

Since there's already a lot of passengers visiting this station and I haven't spared much time to get to know my fellow submas fans over Tumbrl yet, an introduction would be in place!

I'm Jun, nice to meet you! *offers a hand for for a shake* I am a devoted submas artist & a monthly Magma event host! I go by ChooChooBoss everywhere (Twitter/Bsky/Twitch/Ko-Fi)!

This will be a long post! I will write a short intro as well which you can just skim through but here is a more in depth view how I got into submas, my other interests and life in general, in case you'd wish to know more about your conductor on this silly train!

How did I get into submas in the first place?

PLA. I met this certain mysterious & cool fellow time traveler and got curious! After the cave scene I went to read his Wiki, found out about Emmet, and... yeah. The emotional impact blasted me right out of a miserable cycle I was going through back then and set my soul on fire!! A month later I set up my first art account on Twitter, and the rest is history. They've become my greatest source of strength and inspiration and I enjoy drawing them every single day!

I love both twins very much! I tend to vibe with Ingo a little more than Emmet, but I draw Emmet more. People say I remind of butler Ingo the most, hehe. I certainly don't mind because I'm a big fan of butlermas!! In fact I got into submas & started playing Pokémon Masters EX in April 2022, a week before butler Ingo banner rolled in, so they truly got a special place in my heart ahah! (pssst draw more butlermas for me pls pls pls-)

However I don't draw warden Ingo as much as I would like to. I still get pretty emotional over his fate ahah, I can't draw him without a single tear! This sweet & kind man leading a good life and being an inspiration to others has been torn from literally everything he had for seemingly no reason apart from his name, clothes and the muscle memory and even those are barely intact. It seems like a miracle he's still standing and breathing after put through everything judging by the wear and tear on his uniform and body. Despite all that he carries a positive attitude, assists everyone in need, and does his best to help people and pokémon understand each other, unconditionally... Oh, my face is wet again...

My other interests besides submas?

Monster Hunter! Zelda! Genshin Impact! Super Mario! Trine! Crash Team Racing! And many many more! My favourite genres are platformers, kart racers, and action games, with a side of rhythm games. I'm a big fan of co-op games! I also watch my sis play JRPGs!

Monster Hunter is the dearest to me out of all. I've been hunting for well over a decade starting from MHFU. The games have charmed me with their incredibly satisfying combat system, world building, creature design, great attention to detail, character customisation and the games being nearly fully co-op!!

Other things I do:

Pokémon is practically the only turn-based game I enjoy, mainly because of the characters and collection aspect. However!! I adore Pokémon Colosseum (the first pkmn game I ever played!) and it's double battle focus, so The Indigo Disc has been a delight after the long starvation for double battles, coming up with different combinations makes the battles much more fun to me!!... I sound like Emmet here do I ahahah! We also share the fact we are both left-handed!

Shuffle dancing, daily pull-ups, and expanding my ever growing VGM collection! I also enjoy traveling and taking photos to keep as a diary! I've played piano in a music school for 9 years, and I can also play kalimba. I've done casual boxing, gymnastics, horse riding and medieval swordfighting. I used to read comics/manga and watch movies and anime but nowadays I barely do that, I just rather use that time for drawing instead of just sitting and watching, unless I have company!

I share the apartment with my anxious brother and our two sweet female cats, Laku (11, stubborn and cuddly) and Kalevi (21, demanding and full of love) in a city center. My parents are both entrepreneurs and run a farm in the countryside & I have 4 siblings with me as the middle kid!

Where can you meet me?

I am a game artist by profession, with 4 yrs of studies and roughly 7 years of EXP in the field doing game art, UI design, character/prop design, in mobile games as well as PC titles, 2D and 3D. At the moment I am looking for work; I keep up the motivation and learn new skills by running my art accounts while looking for new opportunities.

I hail from the land of darkness, snow, salmiakki, metalheads and renownly reserved people, Finland! (UTC+2)

Despite having my roots here I am pretty much the opposite of a typical Finn in almost every sense ahah! I'm a small guy who's not afraid talking to strangers and laughs a lot. And I dislike coffee for the contrary, it's very popular amongst finns.

With the inspiration from submas I've finally stepped into the world of cosplay so you can usually meet this small and excitable Ingo in the biggest local conventions, Desucon and Tracon! Come say hi!

About my social battery:

I'm both social and socially anxious ahah! I love making new friends and talking to all sorts of people and writing comments, and gathering together with my mutuals to do cool stuff together! However my social battery is very small... I often struggle with my AD(H)D and anxiety issues, so my replies can be extremely slow. I'm easily overwhelmed when life gets busy and I deal with it by withdrawing to minimise the the stimuli and then sorting my stuff out one by one. This is a frustrating shortcoming, but I'm working hard to find a balance I can maintain without getting exhausted. Please be patient with me! If you don't hear from me in a while, please don't take it personally! In fact, it makes me really happy if you contact me, for any purpose!

Which pronouns do I go with?

I go by they/them! I am also aroace, so if I appear to show any sort of romantic interest, it's definitely not that. I love meeting new people and am quite interested in people in general so I'm excited to get to know you better, but the thing is... I have been confusing people on several occassions for saying things that could be taken as flirting. I am terribly sorry for that, that's just the way I show how I care!

I don't really identify myself by any specific gender either, but rather by my roles or interests (Magma host, submas fan, game artist etc.). Submas encouraged me to enjoy dressing formally even if I'm just sitting at home, because I love formal clothing in general and wearing them makes me feel confident and stand taller! I usually wear collar shirts and black or white slacks.

More about my AD(H)D:

I don't have an official diagnosis but deal with the same problems as AD(H)D people do; poor work memory, dissociation, hyperfocus (drawing and people), sleep deprivation, impulsiveness (juggling too many things and going with the wind), getting sensory/information overloads, and feeling like I don't fit in. I figured it out after I finished school & lost my job for that I am unable to handle big tasks without anyone giving me directions. It has taken a while but I've figured out things that help me manage my daily life as well as have a medication that mainly boosts my capability to get things started which is another great struggle ahah.

How do I manage to keep myself on track?

I use a Pomodoro timer to keep up a good flow and remember to take breaks! This is what I use the most:

I should set it up on my tablet as well. I think it's really cool to see how many hours I have actually put into drawing! Last year I clocked in well over 3k hours, ahaha!

How to catch me?

Right now I have great difficulty managing replies, but usually you can reach me by DMs! I check Discord and Twitter the most often! However I must ask you to respect my current DNI status. It means I am really overwhelmed so I wish nobody comes asking for my attention until it has been lifted, unless it's really necessary. I really love talking to you all but I also have to accept and deal with my own limits strictly like this or it won't work out.

What am I working on at the moment?

Besides the holiday set I have several short comics under works as well as one big comic (100+ pages!). That one is my personal greatest goal! I started working on it in June 2022 and I have currently 40+ pages sketched and 60+ thumbnailed.

I was afraid of starting any comic projects before submas, but the sheer excitement over them carried me over that personal wall ahah!

The story's beginning and end are looking good and somewhat functional but there's still a lot to work to do and holes to fill in the middle before I dare to start fleshing out the pages. I have little experience in writing or comic making so I hope you forgive if some things don't make sense or the dialogue is a little on the nose so to say ahah!

The story will be packed with action with the overall tone being on the darker side, but it sure won't be lacking in humor! The project's main goal is to make it a celebration of all things submas & to prove to myself I can handle a big scale project despite my shortcomings!

This train has reached the terminal!

Thank you for riding my silly submas train!! I adore reading all your tags and comments! They brighten up my day & fuel my passion even more!! I hope to bring many more fun things for you to look forward to!! See you again soon!

ALL ABOARD!!

#Personal #Introduction

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sleepingontheclouds · 29 days

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i did a rant for Jason, now I’m doing a rant for my favorite superhero and occasionally morally grey person <3

I’m going to put a trigger warning here and now for the majority of this post. Discussing Dick Grayson for me means talking about very sensitive moments for his character, I will be mentioning and talking about some non-consensual events that happened to him in certain comic canons and one underage event. Please if this can/will trigger you, click off or skim over the parts where I mention it. I will highlight the parts where I actively speak about situations like that in red. Thank you.

Titans

I’ve watched to season 3 of Titans so far and I just gotta say, Dick’s character got a downgrade and an upgrade. Let me elaborate.

Firstly, I love what the writers did and how they characterized the boy wonder in season one. He was an authority figure, a protector. Literally the first time we are introduced to Robin and the first time we see Dick in the Robin suit, he’s brutalizing child abusers.

Throughout the entire first season there are multiple instances of Dick being very protective towards children and very aggressive with people he believes to hurt children.

In a later episode of season one, Dick tracks down a man with Kori after Rachel runs away with Gar. Once he realizes that the man has seen Rachel, let alone in the woods, he immediately goes into attack mode. At that point he believed that Rachel was alone, he didnt know about Gar and he didn’t know that she was with anyone. He punches the man and starts asking if he did anything to her, he goes protective and is very close to breaking that guys nose before his daughter runs out of her room and sees what’s going on, making Dick stop.

Personally, I loved that aspect of his character. It’s not only foreshadowing at the fact that he’s going to become an older brother, I personally think it also hints at a very traumatic event that happened to him in the comics.

It made me so sad to see him lose that aspect of himself after season one. I suppose the overprotective violence faded along side his other more regular violence.

I loved his violent characterization throughout the first two seasons, it really helps understand his character and him as a person.

In the first season, whenever he’s wearing the Robin suit he’s physically incapable of stopping himself from getting too violent, no matter how much he may want to without the costume on.

He stabs people, breaks peoples noses, nearly makes people bleed out, stomps peoples faces in, everything under the sun except kill them. That’s the whole reason he left Gotham, that’s the whole reason he held a grudge against Bruce in season one.

The journey we go through with Dick in season two is an amazing depiction of his character.

The literal order of events just screams mental breakdown to me and the episodes following made me think he had a psychological break, then we find out that he’s just like that.

The events go like this. First Dick starts seeing hallucinations of his father figure which he hates and that’s apparently just a normal thing that happens in Dick’s day to day life? Then he goes Robin mode, hurting a man he used to work with because he’s annoyed with the hallucination of his father. Then he goes to a dance club and nearly kills a man that works with Slade because he has a secret he needs to hide?? Then his traumatized nineteen year old brother tries to kill himself and what does Dick do? He trauma dumps all over Jason hoping that it’ll make him feel better and not want to die. (It doesn’t) then everyone he loves leaves him. He then decides to go visit the mother of the kid he thinks he got killed and finds himself talking to Slade. My guy then books a flight across the world because the fucking assassin with one eye who killed his own son said that he needed to repent by being in isolation?? You know what this dude does instead of going to Japan like he’s supposed to? He assaults two police officers to get himself seven years in jail. You know who he doesn’t tell? Gar. The teenager he left in charge of watching Superman’s clone with no other orders than, ‘call Bruce if he wakes up’ when he knows Bruce will not answer.

Then the dude breaks these gang members out of jail so they don’t get deported, that gets him thrown in solitary. You know what he does in solitary? Hallucinates his dad, fights him in his imagination, and then breaks out of jail.

When Dick eventually grows into his own person after all that insanity, when he becomes Nightwing— he forgives Bruce. It’s another aspect about his characterization that I love. Dick is forgiving, in a good and bad way, until he isn’t.

Dick doesn’t care what people do to him, it’s one of his biggest flaws. He lets himself get hurt over and over again and he just takes it. He lets his peers absolutely bash him and openly hate him, but he’s always still there for them. He always still supports them.

He knows Bruce turned him into a weapon, but he still went back. He went back and tried to ignore everything and forget about all the awful things Bruce did to him. He never directly talks to Bruce about it, sure he’s passive aggressive during [redacted’s] funeral dinner in season 2 but he never actually talks about anything.

The only time he snaps at Bruce is after Jason dies.

After his brother, who he didn’t treat like a brother, dies, he’s trying to cope. Everyone is. He knows Bruce copes in a different way and he respects it, what he doesn’t respect is the fact that Bruce is trying to rope in another child to be Robin. He’s trying to replace Jason right after he dies. That’s when Dick loses his temper.

Even after everything, it takes someone else being hurt for Dick to speak his mind. He never really stands up for himself, he stands up for other people and bottles in his emotions.

Comics

In the comics, Dick is much similar. He bottles up his emotions until he physically can’t.

He’s always trying to be happy, even Nightwing isn’t serious. For Bruce, Batman is a way to let out his true self. Batman is the real Bruce, Bruce Wayne is the mask he hides behind.

It’s exactly the opposite for Dick. Dick Grayson is the caring older brother who has no trauma and exists to help, Nightwing is the funny vigilante, he’s the protector of Blüdhaven who cracks jokes and never breaks a smile while fighting. Either way, Dick just trades in one mask for another.

The only times it’s genuinely him, is when he’s at his most vulnerable. When he isn’t around his family, his brothers, Bruce. That’s when the real him can come out, his real genuine emotions.

In a certain comic run that I’m unsure if it’s still canon or not, Dick gets assaulted. It’s before he has his facade, it’s right when it’s starting to develop. He’s sixteen.

Dick gets in a horrible fight with Bruce, it results in him either running away or getting kicked out, either way he isn’t with Bruce. The sixteen year old is left to fend for himself, then a 21 year old woman who’s targeting Wayne enterprises comes along.

She manipulates Dick and takes advantage of him (along with her husband I think) all to get to Bruce.

He never talks about it.

!! I WILL BE REPLYING TO THIS IN A REBLOG CAUSE THIS IS GETTING VERY LONG AND TYPING IS GETTING SLOW !!

#dick grayson #nightwing #trauma #dc titans #dc comics #dc universe #dcu #batman #batfam #jason todd #He’s so traumatized #:(#I love him #i love him so much #My poor boy #<333 #SORRY THIS IS SO LONG

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cheswirls · 4 months

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sa fic rec list [ENG] pt 3

preface: i have a public collection on ao3 of my favorite sa fics on there but not all of them are listed on the front-end so these are some unlisted ones, some i love that can't be added to collections, and one special fic on ffn for fun :)

past non-english language rec lists here and here. ao3 collection here.

1) Prince Sabo by drowningrat

https://archiveofourown.org/works/43683183 complete - T rating - 3k - au

this one is rly cute domestic fluff modern au goodness. will never get enough of it, rat's prose and dialogue are too good. ace finds out from a former uni classmate of sabo's how many people sabo's dated before him and gets unreasonably jealous and drunkenly confronts sabo about it at home much to sabo's chagrin. it's really. it's adorable. nothing i say will ever come close to how giddy reading the fic makes me feel. their dynamic is TOO cute they are tooth-rotting with how sweet they are. if you want a quick read pls give this one a chance

2) Song Of Genesis by Echaryn

https://archiveofourown.org/works/8544379/chapters/19587928 complete - E rating - 45k - au

this one is my most favorite saboace fic of all time. i cannot recommend it highly enough, it's that fantastic. this is coming from someone who doesn't read nsfw anymore and hasn't for years now – song of genesis literally is and will always be number one in my heart. if you also don't care abt explicit content, i can assure you it's entirely skip-able in this fic w/o losing any enjoyment or context.

SoG is a 'getting back together' type fic that stabs your heart at every angle and at every opportunity during the beginning. echaryn is a fantastic writer and handles the contents of the story so so so well. the break-up is ace's fault but he doesn't know why / the break-up is sabo's decision but he regrets it at every turn. they're still so deeply in love with each other and one turn of events late one evening is the catalyst to bring them back together.

there are horror elements in this in the background that are done spectacularly well. the tags on the fic itself pretty much cover the extent of it but i do wanna throw by two cents in that i don't think anything about it is particularly graphic. if horror isn't your thing this is toned down enough that you should be fine to skim thru or skip parts if necessary. it's good for a horror enthusiast but it's not over the top for those who could care less.

if you read anything from this list pls read che's #1 saboace fic rec of all time pls and ty

3) Red Moon by emygrl99 and leafyxthiefy

https://archiveofourown.org/works/6703183/chapters/15330946 complete - T rating - 123k - au

red moon is still, six years after first reading it, the most interesting and well-crafted premise for a soulmate au i've ever heard of in my life. if you're familiar with a majority of soulmate bond types and know this particular one then you'll probably pick it up before the reveal, but if not ooooooooooo you're in for a treat. i won't mention it here to save the suspense.

i've never read another soulmate fic as good as this one, and the soulmate aspect isn't necessarily even the best part?? the atmosphere of the fic comes from character relationships and interactions. ace and sabo start out on the wrong foot and it takes time for them to change their opinions about each other, but as you can see by the length, the journey is done with patience and well worth the effort spent :)

as someone indifferent to a lot of the minor characters in this fic, i actually enjoyed them and their various roles a lot??? i guess the takeaway is that you should look at the character list and take it in stride (and the minor relationship that is tagged is v minor like if it's not your cup of tea pls still give the fic a chance). everyone is a joy to read and experience things through. also the world-building is so well done. i have not been into vampire content for many years now but i can say with full confidence that this one still slaps.

also as someone who enjoys like... not necessarily "slow burn" but like a natural progression of a relationship from people who just met into something romantic – this fic hits all those points for me surprisingly well??? my only complaint is that as long as it is sabo and ace barely admit their feelings for each other by the end. i live and breathe to see romantic relationships in fic and red moon is primarily build-up. the two have to be friends first, which takes time and is good! not knocking the fic for that. jus throwing it out there that it's one of the they-hold-hands-by-the-end shoujo-type stories.

maybe before this gets too long i should uh. TALK abt what the fic entails. it's a fantasy-esque story where sabo, a vampire hunter, is captured and taken prisoner by a vampire coven living in the mountains. while he's being held captive, he discovers luffy, the little brother he'd thought was dead for years, is living among the vampires and is the same age at which he supposedly died. this triggers some mixed emotions in sabo about the coven and its members, but most importantly gives him incentive to act iffy in regards to luffy's "father", ace, who is not intent on being at all friendly with sabo either.

4) Epiphany by Scarletsorceress

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30518460 complete - T rating - 5.5k - canon(divergent)

everything scarlet writes for acesabo is done immaculately. if you read this fic and like it, please do yourself a favor and read all of her other fics as well. there are some real gems she has in her collection, but this one has a special place in my heart considering i really don't read sa fics sets in canonverse all that much.

also because it paints a side of the one piece world that i like seeing a lot in fan content – specifically how gruesome it is and the dire straits average everyday citizens go to to survive above the waves. not even to have a peaceful or even "good" life, but just to life long enough in good health to make it count. one piece follows the strawhats as focus characters, which is why i've never been concerned about reading fic starring them. reading about non-titular characters that dont' get as many updates, or that oda teases the lives of without going into depth, has always been more interesting.

and to go with that, the revolutionary army has by far always been the most interesting group of people in the op-verse for me. any fic that focuses on them and paints a picture of their struggle is worth a read. the fact that this is saboace is great, and i love it, but it's also a bonus to a great fic concept in general, which is:

what happens to RA members when a mission goes south and people are killed as a result of their actions?

i don't think the RA gets enough credit for how well they individually hold themselves together. it's fine to portray a kind of "escapism" and have them be happy because they deserve to be happy, but fics like this where it dives into how much their actions (and failures) affect them are always, to me, taking the RA and stripping them of their masks.

also ace is really, really loving and caring and kind and supportive in this fic, which i love seeing. sabo is a miserable wet rag after a mission gone wrong and ace is there to pick up the pieces. bonus points to the dynamic of ace and koala i love them sm in this????? so so so much.

5) In the Morning with a Cup of Warm Tea by sleepymery

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17241962 complete - T rating - 2k - au

this is another from the back-end of the ao3 collection – jus a short and sweet modern au full of domestic fluff!!! that is my bread and butter especially for fics from fandoms where canonverse is so tumultuous and full of strife. which op definitely is!!!! also its not like ace and sabo's canon relationship is happy anyway /shot

this one is happy and cute. a typical morning w sabo and ace on an anniversary of sorts :) all of maery's sa fics are adorable. i used to come back to this one all the time several years ago.

6) How We're Made by paox

https://fanfiction.net/s/12624109/1/How-We-re-Made complete - T rating - 177k - au

i love this one with all my heart and soul. i was actually in the middle of re-reading it a couple years back when it got deleted from ao3 which is :( but it's still up on ffn so!!! ffn it is hehe.

paox at one point was definitely my favorite saboace fic writer and might still be. her prose and writing style in general is so phenomenal in my eyes. the way she writes asl individually and as a dynamic trio (and their various duos as well) really left a mark on me when i first got into one piece. she truly does understand their characters perfectly, and even in a dystopian au such as this, they stay true-to-form throughout.

side note, the majority of this fic focuses on asl and sabo and ace's relationship doesn't change until near the end. it's probably a minor spoilers to say it does but this is a sa rec list so. anyway i threw this up here bc i love paox's writing and this one is complete and more than a drabble. the way she paints sabo's character as a person broken down by an oppressive system, who rises to light the fire of revolution and never stops seeing the good in humanity, it's just perfect to me. this is the man oda brought back from the dead to play a crucial role in the second half of one piece. paox gets it. sabo is so well-written and so true-to-form that any other attempt at his character by anyone else is almost laughable in comparison. this is THE sabo fic of the list.

i have another paox fic (two i think!!) in the front-end list of the ao3 collection so definitely give those reads as well :) one is incomplete but will break your heart nonetheless, the other i think is a longer drabble that has my heart by the throat. i think all the ones still on ao3 are compiled under their old ffn account as well, so navigating to them this the HWM fic link might be a better choice. if you can read on ffn lmaoooo adblockers are your friends.

#saboace #acesabo #op

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fanfic-gallery · 1 year

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under the mistletoe

✎ night raven housewardens x gn! reader

|| includes : riddle roseheart, leona kingscholar, azul ashengrotto

|| fluff

✎ manager's note : ho ho ho~ merry Xmas everybody! if you thot santa was coming to deliver you presents, welp, you’re wrong! you’re stuck with me being your gift giver heheh~ but i hope you all enjoy these short scenarios i hv crafted <3

✦˚ riddle :

“w-what.. in.. queen’s name..”

christmas within heartslabyul is as followed according to the book of ‘the queen’s rules’ like any other event held inside its walls. preparations were coming in steadily; roses dusting in red and white, creases ceasing to exist on any laid checkered tablecloth. everything was perfect.. except a certain shrub hanging on top of the gates towards the main garden.

in riddle’s defence he had kept his tone quite mellow by the standard of trey and carter, but overtime that patience drew thin and his urge release his anger came in due time. panic settled in, deuce alongside carter was scrabbling for answer as trey booked it for riddle’s side; ace, on the other hand, also left in a state of shock had calmed down when eyes noticed you and grim trailing from behind, yet dread shot back up when remember the mistletoe above the warden’s head.

had noticing the commotion, you and grim stood in confusion till you eyed up certain specks of white looming over your head. thinking not much of it, you ducked back down towards riddle, who in turn, had been screaming his lungs out; carefully you leaned in and pressed your lips against his heated cheek before parting and leading grim and yourself into the garden.

let’s just say your ‘christmas gift’ to the young tyrant left him [and everyone else] completely speechless.

✦˚ leona :

“a warning, mutt, don’t do.. that again-”

parties were never the prince’s thing; the noise and ruckus was an absolute headache to deal with. on nights like these, he’d sneak his ways inside the school’s botanical garden, going unnoticed, to take a quick cat nap till ruggie barges in to wake him up. yet, this christmas, instead of awaking to his fellow vice, he was met with a certain herbivore asking for trouble.

you had heard news of savanaclaw’s christmas party and was even personally invited by jack himself to join in. truly, you had expected munching down on local foods and drinks not a steak out mission to lure mr kingscholar back to his dormitory yet you still begrudgingly agreed on earning a favor from ruggie. it had took you a millennia to reach the tops of the glass dome, having slipped several times and bruising your skin [even leaving scars and gashes].

looking up and down the place, you finally found the precious prince laying below from shaded trees. taking advice from his literal caretaker, you shuffled into the greenery, only standing a foot away from stomping on the feline. it was then sparkles of white under the moonlight caught your attention. noticing the branches filled with mistletoe above you had your face burning red. not wanting to follow along with tradition yet needing someway to wake the sleeping lion..

..you drew closer, pecking the tip of his nose, in turn, eyes fluttered in irritation yet on closer inspection, a light hint of red dusts his cheeks.

✦˚ azul :

“you were close, but.. not close enough~”

despite the jolly season, floyd had been whining non-stop since winter break, his bored had taken quite the toll on his mood that even jade felt that nothing could be done about it yet with remember a certain shrimpy that was also stuck within their dorms, he decided to devise some plan to make his holiday a little worth wild.

he had been skimming through some of his brother’s ‘about nature’ books he kept around their room when he stumbled upon a weed that landfolk had held a tradition against. if the flora is hung over two individuals’ heads, they were made to exchange an quick intimate moment on the lips; with knowing about your little crush on his housewarden, why wouldn’t he take advantage of that and cause some chaos fun for his own entertainment.

and so he decided the best plan of action was strapping some on azul’s private room within the lounge before rushing to pay you a little visit. you hesitantly took his suggestion of a game, since you and grim were growing fairly weary as winter break went on. both of you travelling your ways into the almost empty mostro lounge with having you knocking on azul’s door to call him out. with a creak, azul greeted you yet as you were ready to accept your fate, a finger laid on your lips..

and before long a kiss was felt on your rosy cheeks..

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demodraws0606 · 3 months

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WHY CYBERPUNK DEADBOY IS ACTUALLY RELEVENT TO RUI'S EVENT (to stop misinformation)

Ok I'm doing this cause I fell for it too and like I know 99 pourcent of the pjsk fandom is on twitter but I don't want this misinformation to spread here.

Especially when Becoming Potatoes got hit with the same "it doesn't fit the event or character !!" beam

CYBERPUNK DEADBOY IS ACTUALLY RELEVENT TO RUI'S EVENT and that's for one big reason that everyone has missed.

Oohara is confirmed in the story to be basically exploiting younger talents for his works, the only reason why everyone missed is that it's only revealed in one scene and they don't actually adress this issue in the actual event

Here is the scene in question :

In that same chapter it's pointed how poorly managed the whole thing is with Tsukasa even getting mad at Rui for not checking earlier on.

There is also the obvious fact the younger people ended up quitting probably due to poor treatment.

And if this doesn't convince you somehow, the story pretty much hands this "twist" to you on a silver plate with the scene of Rin watching the movie.

So no the event isn't "oh Rui is just learning from a movie director" it's setting up how corrupt the industry is.

The main reason why it wasn't addressed in the event is probably because we'll get this issue shown through Sakaki who is now interested by Rui and is friend with Oohara meaning he probably adopts the same corrupt beliefs.

I understand some people skip through stories one time and it is literally one scene which if you kinda skim through it, it is possible to kinda miss the red flags.

The main reason why the comm is the way that it is, is because the event is actually pointing at how corrupt the industry is, it's just doing it very subtly and in the background.

But yeah, I keep seeing people saying how unrelated the event is but like it's very much not the case but I understand why people misunderstand.

#wxs #wonderlandxshowtime #pjsk #project sekai #rui kamishiro #rui pjsk #prsk #project sekai colorful stage #prsk rui #pjsk rui #wxs rui #wonderlandxshowtime rui #wxs pjsk #wxs prsk #needed to get this off my chest even if nobody reads this #but like i already know twitter is off making up shit about how the comm doesn't make sense but the twitter fandom in pjsk is a lost cause #anyways #i have hope for tumblr though which is why i need to point this out #when i did get shown the scene my brain exploded like “oh my god now it makes so much sense”

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deep-spaghetti · 5 months

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my undertale act structure analysis post is getting traction all of a sudden and ppl in the tags have all sorts of ideas about what Specific Gamer Behavior undertale’s narrative is condemning and like that is the most lame way to interpret that narrative. if the emotional and thematic core of undertale revolved specifically around some gamer bros who really ground toby fox’s gears it would be a shitty story. if i were to pick A Condemnation or at least a concern undertale expresses it would be entitlement surrounding art and rapid consumption of it. it offers you its story, its compelling world and characters, its happy ending and then it’s done. at least internally, it doesn’t really guide you to anything but true pacifist. a no mercy run is not something flowey eggs you on to do at the end of neutral runs, it’s not an encouraged mode of play in “The RPG where no one has to die!” the entire no mercy run is about how it is your active, conscious decision to have gone out of your way to do harm, even when it is actively more tedious and difficult than any other option. if you engage with its narrative exclusivey through the lens of it being a meta spin video game tropes and mechanics and nothing more, then yeah, it does look like the thesis statement is “completionism is immoral” but i think an extremely critical thing that people miss is that no mercy is not an encouraged mode of play. there is an entire discussion around how implementation functionally is encouragement, “if it’s in the game on purpose, the developer didn’t put it there to keep it out of players’ hands.” but again observing through the lens of narrative and not activity (or activity as a means to communicate narrative) the implication is that feverish unconditional consumption of media is destructive. the player is literally given the agency to suck the life and joy out of a game about quirky characters and big cheesy emotions because that’s what happens when you are dead set on seeing as much as possible instead of appreciating what’s there. althought undertales [FIGHT] and [MERCY] buttons are functionally similar to a dialogue option to be nice or an asshole, undertale’s no mercy differentiates itself from other games’ “evil” routes because it actively discourages engaging with the evil option on a mechanical level. you have to tediously grind away literally every enemy through a small habdful of encounter configurations in every area and the game denies you as much of itself as it can at every turn, long stretches of tedious grinding interrupted by deliberately ludicrous difficulty spikes, trying to act as roadblocks so utterly insurmountable that you just quit. if you do succeed, your reward is a copy-tainting flag that makes a point of ruining your good endings if you every try for them again. it is an actively discouraged mode of play on every level above implementation. you are not supposed to play this way, and the only reason you would (and again this is from like the gameworld’s internal moral perspective, enjoying a challenge or wanting to experience an aspect of the narrative yourself is a perfectly valid reason to want to do it) is if you wanted to exhaust something you enjoyed of every last drop of stimulation it could offer. undertale is a game packed with secrets and even with direct messages to data miners. it was aware from minute one that it was going to be gutted and picked apart and given a million cover to cover skimmings across the world because that’s just what happens to art in the information age. i think it definitely does actively encourage paratextual engagement, everything to do with FUN values and gaster are absurdly rare random chance events that try to foster discussions about mysteries only witnessed by a precious few players, but i think it does resent that to some extent it cant truly have any real mysteries. so quickly was every code cracked and every secret shared to millions, because that’s just what people do to things they love, they shatter them into pieces so they can put them back together a thousand times.

#interesting i didn’t know there was a character limit on tumblr posts #this post came 10 characters short lol

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wildissylupus · 7 months

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hi idk how much you analyze on hanzo but something thats been on my mind is the progression of his character through non-canonical events/interactions. I am aware there isn’t a lot of canon Hanzo content so take this thought with a grain of salt.

In Overwatch 1 hanzo’s personality was more stand-offish and maybe even rude. Now in Overwatch 2 he’s more approachable in a weird way? He’s still the same brooding guy but it’s almost like we see this “healed” version of his in overwatch 2. Not just from interactions but also from his character design aka the underbags being less prominent, him looking physically more healthy, the lack of bottle that has his sake (ofc this could just be them upgrading his look in the game).

While this is amazing and something I have always hoped to see from hanzo, part of me hopes that the developers/writers still remember hanzo from Overwatch 1. There hasn’t been a lot happening canonically with hanzo since the confrontation with Genji and if they were to skip from the last we saw of hanzo to the hanzo in overwatch 2 it feels like a lack of potential and even story telling?

Don’t get me wrong I love that hanzo is being given more personality and depth. It’s so refreshing that he gets to be something other than the ex-yakuza that murdered his brother lmao.

I guess I’m afraid that his development will feel rushed or like there’s gaps in it. I want to be able to see the rugged, tired bitter hanzo turn into the hanzo that literally contemplates the idea of settling down and adopting a dog, you know what I mean? I don’t just want it to be a thing that is skimmed over. I hope Overwatch touches on the more difficult situations in regards to mental health. And this isn’t just for hanzo, it’s for the whole roster.

I hope that each characters gets to grow and learn even if it’s unpleasant and “ugly” and that we actually get to SEE it in progression. Not just time skips and flashbacks or whatever.

Maybe it’s too early in canon mission events content to judge but it is something that has been in the back of my mind. I may be proven wrong later or be completely off but thoughts???

I do agree with this, though I don't think he should still be standoffish when he joins Overwatch, I do want there to be this awkward period where everyone adjusts to having him around. I also think that the reason for his character progression is going to be explored in his short story with Kiriko. It seems from the description that he's going to be getting some closure with his father, which would explain his change from OW1 to OW2.

However I think there is a different thing that could explain his change. Kiriko. I've explained this in passing but I think that both Genji and Hanzo are going to be given a second chance to be siblings, not to each other, but the people they have found on their own respective journeys.

Genji has stated that he sees Cassidy as a brother, which is interesting considering so far, other then Angela, since even OW1, he's shown the most concern about Cassidy's well being. Specifically his mental state. Unlike with Hanzo where is has been shown that Genji wasn't really knowledgeable of what Hanzo was going through with being the eldest son. Genji shows a lot more observation with Cassidy.

(Honestly I could write a whole essay about those two and how Genji is given a second chance to be there for who he views as an older brother BUT THIS POST AIN'T ABOUT HIM!)

I believe this is going to be the same with Kiriko and Hanzo but in reverse, while Genji gets the opportunity to look out for his older sibling, Hanzo actually gets to be an older sibling. He finally gets to relax and joke around, contemplate something other than Genji's death and how he can atone for that.

It would also be a nice parallel to Genji with instead of staying hang up on a previous relationship, he ends up creating a new one that is overall better for him.

It's also the matter of Kiriko and Hanzo's relationship is a lot more salvageable then Hanzo and Genji's. Listen, as much as I love those two, there is no way in hell they're going to get the normal sibling bond the fandom likes to give them. Even if that is the end goal for the writers, they would need to write a whole other novel for that kind of relationship between the two to not feel rushed.

Now I do want to point something out about his OW2 redesign because there's more then just the lack of Sake. It that fact that he's now covering his chest. This might not seem like a lot but in his first design he isn't protecting any part or any organ that is slightly to the right, in the middle, or the the left of his chest, meaning his left lung is exposed, his heart is exposed, his spine is exposed, basically a lot of stuff you would want shot at is exposed.

Combing this with and interaction with Genji from OW1, that is alluding to the fact that Hanzo "finds living challenging", then Hanzo covering his chest is a big step.

Anyway the fact that Hanzo is now on his way to being added to the list of characters who are practicing selfcare is so funny, cause out of all the characters to end up on that very short list at the beginning of Story Mode, I did not expect it to be Hanzo.

#overwatch #overwatch 2 #overwatch lore #overwatch headcanons #analysis #ow hanzo #hanzo #hanzo shimada

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winterrhayle · 7 days

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rank all of the 6 lunar chronicles books! i've asked a few of my friends irl this and ive seen very differing opinions so im curious (and ive seen how much you like ranking so..😂)

LOLLLL yeah ranking is my favourite thing ever ever ever ever ever ever its so fun okay (this is kinda long sorry hahaha) :

winter - this probably isnt a shocker, bc well ^^^ my url😭 literally what does this book NOT have. its 800+ pages, it contains so many perspectives, every single ship, every character dynamic is fully formed, the plot is insane and weaves together so well, the drama, the luna visuals, JACINTER, MISS WINTER HAYLE BLACKBURN.... like......... name a better book.... exactly. winter > everything. this is my go to book to reread and i think that its actually etched into the grooves of my brain. i have 2 copies of this book and they are my prized possessions

fairest - okay this ranking might be controversial, and i hate levana as much as everyone else does(just a disclaimer lol). but I LOVEEEE a character study, specially when said character is a villain. i read fairest after i'd completed all of the main 4 books and it just added so many more layers to the lunar characters (winter, levana, jacin etc), and also introduces us to evret, who is talked about in the main series but as we know he dies before the events of tlc :( but i loved his character and i found this book so interesting, also as a winter girl it was cool to see her parents, and her as a baby / toddler,, and also the og trio winter, jacin and selene / cinder own my WHOLE soul bc they are soooo <33333333333333 this book actually breaks my heart soo bad every time but i still crave rereading it bc its so good

cinder - ahhh when everything was somewhat simple, i like rereading this one to just go back to square one and like. reminisce on how everything begun and look at all of the seeds marissa planted (like that brief mention of winter and the descriptions of jacin aka the blond guard or whatever it was they described him as) . and i just love the kaider of it all of course and idk this one is just so nostalgic to me

scarlet - something about this book just keeps me on edge every time i read it. i literally cannot put it down once i start it and even though i know all of the plot twists and everything now im just constantly hooked. i love the visuals of this book, with the farm in rieux, and futuristic paris, and the fight in the abandoned opera house, soo cool. also i love how well this book in particular ties into little red riding hood because every single time i read the part about michelle actually being ran under glamour, aka the wolf disguised as the grandma like in the og fairytale, i am GAGGED its such a cool way to tie it into the lore of this series. annndddd i feel like i do talk about scarlet on here a lot because of winlet but i do NOT talk about wolf enough so let me just say something: wolf is such an interesting and complex character andi loveeee him and i love how much his personality varies from babygirl to actual killer hahhah

cress - i love this book to death BUTT i feel like some of the desert chapters kinda did drag on a little, especially as ive read this book so many times they're the scenes i tend to skim through (and this was true even BEFORE i became a cresswell hater tbh), but other than that this book is 10/10, i love the farafrah chapters especially, and i loved watching jacin be annoying and also i loved watching the rampion crew start to fill out and become bigger, ALSO this book has that iconic miscommunication scene where thorne and cress reunite with the others but thorne is blind so he didnt know that 'the wolf' cress was talking about was just our wolf (ze'ev) and the chaos of all that and cinder and dr erland and them almost getting arrested and escaping on the rampion / iko was pure chaos ALSOOOO this book had the technical introduction of winter bc you hear her adopting scarlet to save her which is fun so yeah !!! if they took out the cresswell of it all this book would be higher bc theres so much to love (and i mean this literally, this book is SO LONG)

stars above - this feels weird to rank because it isnt one full book, its a set of short stories, and the reason why its down here is because the only ones i consistently go back to are something old something new and the princess and the guard, if those two were full books they would probably be in the number 2 or 3 spot tbh (specially princess and the guard), but the thing is with stars above is that theres just a little too much filler for me,, like thornes chapter is pointless and is not interesting at all, and the little andriod actually is really sweet but i wouldve happily sacrificed that and thornes chapter to get more content with the other short stories, as i feel like they had a lot more to say (i do love cinders cameo in the little andriod tho)

#asks #anon #tlc #the lunar chronicles #mine #apologies again for the yap sesh i dont know how to condense things

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miyakuli · 4 months

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Pocket Mirror ~ GoldenerTraum

Mirror, Mirror on the wall

Pocket Mirror is a horrific game in which we follow a young girl with amnesia who is lost in a gloomy, absurd world and tries to escape through a series of puzzles. While the aesthetics and atmosphere of the universe won me over completely, I have more reservations about the writing and the emotions it seeks to convey.

❤ Let's start with the game's biggest strength: the atmosphere is insane (literally). The pixel art is highly detailed, the lighting effects are magnificent, the scenery can go from cute and neat to chaotic and sinister, and the light animations are dynamic and often bloodcurdling effective. I also loved the contrast between the horrific aspect of the scenes and the cute chara-design of the characters, a bit like Puella Magica for those in the know. There are also quite a few visual ideas that play on this contrast of tone to make you feel extremely uncomfortable, without resorting to easy jump scares or excess hemoglobin. ❤ The sound atmosphere is not to be outdone either. The music is memorable, adding a touch of mystery and disquiet to the exploration of the rooms. But the game also relies on scary sound elements (footsteps, evil laughter etc…) as well as moments of oppressive silence, which worked extremely well on me x) ❤ The gameplay is fairly varied overall, with exploration, puzzles, chases (I hated every second of it), mini-games, etc. I never felt redundant during my game.

+/- The game's puzzles take two forms: on the one hand, there's the rpg aspect, with objects to find to interact with elements of the setting; on the other, there are text-based riddles in the style of Sphynx. The difficulty can alternate between easy and a little more intermediate, which provides a bit of a challenge, but I found some of the titles very confusing and their solutions sometimes convoluted. +/- The story is captivating from the start. We face all these horrific events without understanding anything, totally perplexed like our MC who has lost her memory. But this confusion lasts right up to the end, in fact, because the scenario remains far too ambiguous, and even though the game hints at some answers here and there, it ends with a feeling of incompleteness. I did understand the underlying plot, but the way the game skims over the truth left me rather indifferent in the end. +/- The characters are excellent in their creepiness, but we don't get attached to them at all. And yet the game seems to want us to feel something, given certain scenes where the heroine sincerely tries to create a bond with them....but it just doesn't work. First of all, the main girl is just too bland and interacts with everyone in the same way (all sweet and naive) which, in my opinion, doesn't create any real chemistry with the other girls. But on top of that, these ones have very short "arcs" where we're more often dealing with their demonic character than their more human side, and as a result, I find myself rather indifferent to their fate. +/- There's a good amount of replayability given the various endings, but there's no quick skip for the dialogue and some of the cut scenes…and some of the endings are hard to reach without reading a guide, which is a shame.

✖ The game has a lot of game-overs, which isn't a bad thing in itself, but some of them occur after actions based on chance (for example, you take the wrong direction in a corridor and you die, or you make the wrong choice in a dialogue that didn't indicate any fatal fate). It wouldn't have bothered me so much if the save points weren't so far away from these events, as it often means having to take again a long path or even a cut scene that you can't always get past. It got very tiresome at times. ✖ I've got nothing against dubbing in onomatopoeia, but the little laughs and giggles from the damsels are far too frequent and almost annoying. ✖ I find the object interface a bit messy and not quickly accessible.

I was totally drawn into the world of this game, and it succeeds perfectly in its aim of making its audience both nervous and enchanted by this hellish wonderland. But it left me on the side of the road when it came to its story and its characters, who were a little too elusive for my taste.

youtube

➡ My Steam page

#pocket mirror #pocket mirror goldenertraum #I didn't play every endings for the moment - will keep this for later #personal #Lola plays games #Youtube

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isfjmel-phleg · 1 month

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March 2024 Books

Norby, the Mixed-Up Robot by Janet and Isaac Asimov

This one was a lot of fun! I should track down the rest of the series.

The World's Greatest Detective by Caroline Carlson

I was very confused about what era this world was mimicking (are they Victorian? 1920s/30s?), but it was a fun story and I enjoyed the dynamic between the protagonists.

A Dig in Time by Peni R. Griffin

I remember liking this one, but it feels like I read it years ago and I can't remember everything. Time travel with a family emphasis.

The Promise by Monica Hughes

Like Sandwriter, which this is a sequel to, I initially wasn't so sure that I liked this one, and then it went in an unexpected direction that took the themes in a more complex place, and I appreciated that.

The Yellow Fairy Book by Andrew Lang

I generally like fairy tales well enough, but this one was rather a slog to get through, and I ended up skimming a lot of it. There were some familiar favorites, but a lot of the tales were of the variety that consist of an interesting set-up followed by a seemingly incoherent series of events, and I regret I don't have enough interest in folklore to get much out of that.

The Romance of a Shop by Amy Levy

Interesting from a historic perspective mostly, but I didn't connect much with the story.

The Secret Garden of Yanagi Inn by Amber A. Logan (reread)

Reread so it would be fresh in my mind before the presentation. You already know how I feel about this one.

The Humming Room by Ellen Potter (reread)

Same as above. I have a post in drafts with some thoughts on this one that may eventually see daylight.

The Making of May by Gwyneth Rees (reread)

Already discussed this one.

A Bit of Earth by Karuna Riazi (reread)

Beautifully written and very readable and develops its themes well. Does fall into the trap of making the story about grief (Maria's late parents were frequently absent from her life, and she resents this, but she did have relationships with them in ways that her counterpart in the original book never did with her parents, so it's a completely different dynamic). I found this Colin to be somewhat underdeveloped, but I did appreciate the concept of his being fearful about failing to live up to family expectation, which is a reasonable translation of the original character's source of shame.

Charley by Joan G. Robinson

I don't remember much of this one. Didn't have any problems, just didn't have as much impact as other books by this author have for me.

Greenwild by Pari Thomson

A very derivative example of the Child Learns That They Are Magical And Special And Enters A Fantastical World Where They Must Take On The Villain sort of story. I wanted to enjoy it, but everything felt trite.

Doctor Who: A Brief History of Time Lords by Steve Tribe

This was a gift from my brother. I am a very casual DW fan and haven't really engaged with the show in quite a while (really should rewatch and catch up on new stuff but that's a pretty big time commitment right now). I think I would have got a lot more out of this if I were more than passingly familiar with Classic Who and all the lore in general.

Not Quite a Ghost by Anne Ursu

I was interested in this one because it's a retelling of "The Yellow Wallpaper," and the concept of comparing the difficulties of getting difficult-to-trace chronic illnesses taken seriously and diagnosed in today's world to the mishandling of women's medical and psychological conditions in the late nineteenth century intrigued me. However, this book didn't really know what it wanted to be. The young protagonist's struggles with her mystery chronic illness took up most of the book, but there was also a plot about a literal ghost in the wallpaper of her new attic bedroom that needs to be defeated in the end, and neither of these things fitted well together. One or the other of them would have been fine, but the combination left me confused about the nature of this fictional world and the themes of the book in general.

Comics/Graphic Novels

Benevolent Sisters of Charity (Over the Garden Wall)

This is the only one of the OTGW comics that I wasn't able to buy before it went out of print, so I ILLed it and realized that it was for the better that I hadn't. The story was incoherent and pointless and the characters were OOC. The art was much better than the story deserved.

Wayne Family Adventures Vol. 3

I've read these as a webcomic already but wanted it in book form too. These are entertaining; you just have to go into it aware that this is The Fluffy World version of everybody and they are characterized accordingly.

The Flash by Grant Morrison & Mark Millar

Not on a level with Waid's work, of course, but the highlight of this one was the storyline in which Linda dies and Wally manages to bring her back (some good Bart content here) and a delightfully meta short story in which Mark Millar meets up with Wally to figure out what story about him to tell next...and Wally is given a co-writing credit in the end.

The Flash by Mark Waid Books Seven and Eight

An effective end to this run. Waid points out in his Afterword that he's still got another story on reserve, so...anytime he wants to give that to us, that would be great. I'll be waiting.

The Secret Garden on 81st Street: A Modern Retelling of the Secret Garden by Ivy Noelle Weir (reread)

You know how I feel about this one. (I whipped it out at the convention to show somebody who was talking to me about CEN in the present day through leaving one's child to technology that that concept was used in this retelling, and somebody nearby oohed about what a diverse retelling it was as I flipped through pages. Which is, you know, more important than effective storytelling. It should have done both! We could have had both!)

Stephen McCranie's Space Boy Omnibus Volume 5

I've read this in webcomic form already, but it's a pleasure to have a physical copy of the latest omnibus.

Sinister Sons #1-2 plus additional material establishing the backgrounds of Lor-Zod and Sinson

A sort of response to the series Super Sons (which featured Jon Kent at his proper age and Damian Wayne), by the same author. This is going to be about a teamup of Lor-Zod (son of General Zod, was Chris Kent in another continuity, has apparently been Zukoed in this incarnation) and Sinson (a young, apparently orphaned thief who believes that his father must be Sinestro, the Green Lantern's arch-nemesis). So far the boys haven't done much more than fight, but I'm interested to see where this is going. (#3 is in the mail now!)

Lor is a horrid little piece of work, but his parents' recent treatment of him puts him in a more sympathetic situation, and I am hoping he'll get a redemption arc that would move him closer to his original version. Sinson is no angel either, but he's just a child who really, really wants a family and is clinging to the only hope for one that he has--and if that means he's a supervillain's son, then he's ready to follow in those footsteps to gain acceptance.

(Also he drew a mustache on himself with a black marker to look more like his alleged father, and that's so ridiculous and kind of endearing.)

#random personal stuff #it's been a weird month for reading but I'm hoping for both more time and more motivation this month #I'm at a point where I have plenty of unread books but don't feel particularly inclined to pick up any of them #and I need to get out of that

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