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shinjisdone · 1 year

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When you have an Secret Admirer - and it's not them (Pomefiore; 5)

A love letter was left at your door and now you are searching for that ‘secret admirer’ - everyone wants to help you out…but have their own reason for it.

'I've kept writing you about the things that you did that enchanted me...but without wanting to sound cliché, I also fell for your beauty...'

form of headcanons + scenario-ish

[note: reader is gender-neutral but mostly mentioned in 2. pov; a series of everyone you meet following you. headcanon will follow each char. own thoughts on the situation. mostly nervousness, slight jealousy & stubbornness]

Part 1: Heartslabyul

Part 2: Savanaclaw

Part 3: Octavinelle

Part 4: Scarabia

Part 6: Ignihyde

Part 7: Diasomnia

It's best if you stay in your room for a few days, you thought.

After faking feigning an injury after the...flower fruit fiasco to Crowley (and him letting out a speech of how gracious he is for allowing you to rest) you've let everyone know that you needed quiet. And. Silence. Even Grim left you alone.

It was calming in a way. Just you and your thoughts, as well as the four love letters lying on the desk. Until a little ring caught your attention and you opened up a message on your phone.

Letting the image sink in it was a photo of a frustrated Vil with his make-up smudged.

'guy is taking the piss hahah' - Epel wrote you.

'What's in front of him?'

You couldn't help it. The curiousity took the best of you, especially when the Vil Schönheit looked this laughably angry.

'someone won a magic mirror on an auction and its messin with everyone. says it shows everyones real beauty when looked at but it shows nothin when we stare at it. no reflec tion and its makin Vil angrier than squirrel with a nut that dont crack lololol'

The boy sent you another image and it was of Rook trying to calm Vil down, who attempted to get the mirror out of the dorm. It made you chortle.

'lol why care about some phony mirror when Pomefiore is filled with real ones'

'I can update u (Name) if you want. Funniest thing that happens in this dully stuck up place'

Epel's comment made you smile. Even when he can get a bit temperamental, which you can't blame him for since he has to live with Vil, the boy does try to cheer you up. He must have heard of everything by now and even if he didn't, Deuce probably told him of your mood. It was sweet of him.

'Sure, might be fun to watch'.

Perhaps you shouldn't have answered like that.

Epel Felmier

Epel is no idiot.

He's aware of how you must be feeling so he tries to be seldom with his calls and presence. If it weren't for all the things that had happened this month for him notice, then it was Deuce's unusual worried frown.

He was so...quiet. Almost looking depressed when he told Epel of the first letter. He tried with effort to explain what had happened but ended up unwittingly admitting his displeasure at the change. He seemed to miss you and you've become reversed yourself. It was a bit of a bummer.

Epel tried hard to play it cool. Although behind closed doors, he'd mumble profanities in the usual accent he'd hide. These rumors were true. Big, richy colleges are full of drama, just like his village said! Why do things gotta be so unnecessarily complicated??? It doesn't make any sense to him.

Epel wouldn't bat an eye at gestures of love and grand confessions (he feels still perplexed though) but all of this was for you. It was no happenstance like usual, no, you aren't just being involved due to coincidence - all of this is happening because of you and for you.

What are ya, a princess waitin' for a knight in yer tower??? It's just????

Less upset and more puzzled. But he wouldn't know how to deal with that either.

Nevertheless, he convinced you to leave your room for a while after school hours...just a small visit that shouldn't take too long...

Rook Hunt

Oh, la la~

This is quite exciting for him. Love letters and confessions are things ususally told in fairytales, so seeing all of this unfold in this very school is quite the entertainment and Rook wants to be seated at the number #1 spot to witness it.

It's less of a creepy reason and more one of fascination. This is a one-in-a-lifetime chance and he always loved romance! He wants to see what this secret admirer is capable of. What they are ready to do for love.

Although he feels...disadvantaged? Challenged? Is it rivalry? Jealousy or true fascination?

As a hunter himself, he should know best how to capture hearts yet he feels like a freshly-born scholar looking up to his teacher. And out of all hearts they are attempting to capture it is yours...

Love can hurt...but it isn't supposed to make you uncomfortable, no?

Ever since he heard the rumors - and especially after he found out they are true - he has kept an eye on you. Without your knowledge of course...

Is the hunter learning...or keeping his prey for himself?

Vil Schönheit

The fairest of them all is a bit distracted, you see.

Aside from this wretched mirror, the senior could barely believe that out of all people...you get love letters.

However, with Leona's sudden interest in anything really and Kalim's lack of cheerfulness, things have become odd - now having rumors be confirmed by Azul (he was a witness!), Vil must believe it.

Even Epel is more on his phone than ever...

Vil isn't...apalled by the idea of you getting attention. He is just the one who usually gets it! But none of his fans' determination compare to that of your admirer. It's strange.

...Thats what he deduces first. Then it becomes ridiculous at the realization of it! You??? Getting more attention than Vil???

Do not misunderstand, Vil is not excluding the possibility of you having a secret admirer but the amount they are doing for you even leaves him a bit stumped.

He isn't sure if he should congratulate you or give into his jealousy. Jealousy of you getting more attention or your attention being snatched away from him? He isn't quite certain of it either.

It's better to distract himself with some puny mirror than keep on pondering about it.

Discreetly making your way to Pomefiore, you swiftly passed by other students, ones who had long started to avoid you. It was believed that your presence alone even summons the secret admirer...so some would take shelter from their strange pranks by getting out of your way. Sure, there were some who showed sympathy, asking about your well-being or even joking when that admirer will finally capture your heart...or if they have already.

Admittedly, you did not feel like meeting either of these kinds of guys...thankfully Epel picked you up quickly, either using his shy mask or temperamental yells to get you out of any situation - and soon, you found yourself in front of that mirror. Just as Epel stopped snickering as he showed you more photos, his head would turn to you and back to that mirror...with a surprisingly soft stutter, he pointed to it.

"Er...it ain't a phony, after all..."

...Why were you able to see yourself?

'...The one who can see themselves here is the true beauty of this school.'

Epel Felmier

Uh, what???

Why are ya able to see yourself in every angle possible? How come the background changed to every possible scenery that suited you so perfectly? With you standing out so marvy too???

That can't be it...is that seriously one of those infamous 'pranks' of that secret admirer everyone's been prattlin' about?

...Your secret admirer?

That can't be it. The (Name) he knows couldn't...have something like that...but it's true.

As Epel watches your face bloom like a magnolia in May, he finally understood Deuce's troubles deeply. It's one thing to hear it from someone on the surface and something completely different when you feel it deep in your soul too.

The boy stood there, as his yelling on what kind of phony mirror that could be transformed into mumbles until he was completely silent. His face scrunched up into a frown.

You look real pretty. He now thinks how you've always been real fine and fair but your reflection seemed so picturesque right now...all because of the darn, stupid smile on your face that you couldn't just wipe away, no matter how hard ya tried.

Damnit...what is this feeling?! How's he gonna get rid of it?!?!

Even as he wonders how others are gonna be up on your case again, the sweet lil' apple grew sour as he also wondered how much that admirer person was making you all happy and gushy now...

Rook Hunt

And here in comes Rook.

Rather, he had been watching you enter so elegantly and now admire yourself in that fancy mirror! He knew something was up with it and spying on Epel's messages, it was only a matter of time before your lovely self would find out about it!

The young man long knew that this 'auction win' was something from the secret admirer - with how they always end up involving whole dorms in their quest to win your heart. Rook has quite the keen eye himself...

Oh, he needs to be there and witness it himself! How exciting! What kind of creative confession will pop up this time?! How will you react?! It's all just trés bien!

Less worried about the consequences that may follow his dorm and more intruiged on how this pursue of love will continue. A true fairytale!

That's what he keeps telling himself.

Rook is torn between watching a beautiful love story unfold before him and being very displeased at the fact that someone else is trying to capture your heart.

How...unfair it all seemed.

But all is fair in love and war, no?

Shall he listen and learn from the admirer? To outwit them in every way and capture your heart himself? Maybe he should show them that this is his hunt and that they shouldn't mess with him.

Regardless, he's hiding it all too well behind a smile. Even as you hide your beautiful face bashfully and Epel trying to keep himself together and not stare at the scenery in front of him too hard and not for too long...

Yes, he'll stay back, like a real hunter.

Vil Schönheit

He hears the noise downstairs and wow, speak of the devil. Or rather when he thought of the devil. You just wouldn't leave his mind.

There you are with little messages starting to pop up in the mirror you were staring at...

'I wanted to have you see all the beautiful things about you when reading my thoughts about you...so you can believe me and witness them yourself in the moment.'

Vil raises a brow as your lovely reflection was overwritten by a dainty message, curvy and in red.

'You don't know how wonderful you look with a smile. It made me fall for you.'

And on cue, a bashful smile appeared on your face.

Vil, as well as Epel and Rook, jumped as they saw the many flowery poems of love spread around your reflection. It almost rivaled Rook's grossly exeggerated compliments.

"Now, now," Vil tries to stay calm as he shushed the mirror and tried to find out what the meaning of this is and by the Sevens, don't let it be the secret admirer. No, no, no, no! He keeps on shooing this...thing away, even if it can't really move.

Or...it can?

The mirror shrunk in size and used it's little attached wings ("WEREN'T THOSE DECORATIONS" - Everybody thinks) to gracefully flutter after you.

Is this some kIND OF TWISTED JOKE

FIRST THE ALCHEMY NOTES, THEN THE MAGIC FLOWERS AND NOW A FLYING MIRROR THROWING POSITIVE AFFIRMATIONS AT YOU

This secret admirer must be some kind of prodigy...

Does Vil not even stand a chance...?

He's confused and irritated. Not ever did he think things would come to this but seeing how someone actually has eyes for his numbre #1 potato sends the senior into slight panic.

This isn't like him.

But the turmoil in his heart is all so real and vivid...as is his determination to not let you be swooned over by anyone but him.

[yeah, I kinda feel like the vibe got from 'tralala oh a secret admirer? classic at a school like this how cute :)' to 'WHO TF...!? WHY U HAVING CRUSH ON MY CRUSH STOP IT' Hopefully this one is just as good as the other ones...dont feel like it does. You see, Vinland Saga...might have a chokehold on me :) ]

[If you get the 'IS THIS SOME KIND OF TWISTED JOKE' joke then u r really cool :) The fluttering, positive affirmation mirror just popped up as I wrote...and I had more ideas for Rook than anyone else. Would feel like Vil would be even worse with that what he had with Neige...even after his overblot, he just gives these vibes. Epel is just...r u kidding me. how am i supposed to be okay with that]

#twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst scenarios #secret admirer #pomefiore #epel felmier #rook hunt #vil schoenheit #twst x reader #gender neutral imagine #gender neutral reader #reader insert #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst headcanons

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barbwritesstuff · 4 days

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A copy/paste of a post I made on the CS forum in regards to Thicker Than:

-------------

I’m just popping back to post a quick update about my plan/process going forward.

My current plan is to continue drafting this story as it is. Once I have first draft, then I’ll go back and fix some of the issues that have been brought up here.

Top of the list:

*Fix confusing navigation in chapters 3-4.

*Add more opportunities to interact with allies in non romantic contexts. (Perhaps in groups so people don’t worry about losing romance routes but can still spend time and get to know various characters).

*Add more choice and variation to the trial scene (plus a potential aquital for vampires loyal to the Night Court).

I hope that’s okay. I think it’ll be easier to edit once I have the whole thing more or less together. That way I’m not going back and forth quite as much and it’ll be easier to know exactly where any jumps/skips need to go.

The latter half of Chapter Ten is very romance focused. Chapter Eleven is going to be very big and busy (depending on the playthrough) and I may end up splitting it into two, but I’m not sure yet. The game is already starting to fork towards the various endings (of which there will be five with variations in each). Some will be more involved than others, but I want to try and make them all rewarding in their own way.

I know it feels like choices that were made in part two are a little redundant, but I’m hoping later chapters might change some minds.

The tribute choice is still one of the biggest in the game (and whether or not it was actually paid) and the outcomes and consequences of that will start to come out more soon.

Not all consequences will be good. Again, I hope that’s okay.

I’m also hoping it’s not too frustrating waiting a little longer for the above mentioned fixes.

Thank you everyone for your honest feedback. This game is much more complicated than my last and it’s been a steep learning curve all the way (I’m never doing timeskips ever again 😅). But, with your help, I’m hoping the final product will be a really fun. 💙

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mcflymemes · 6 months

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AS SAID BY CASSANDRA PENTAGHAST * assorted dialogue from dragon age inquisition, updated version

the truth is more important than my reputation, and anyone willing to accuse me of weakness is welcome to try.

i cannot stop thinking of our earlier discussion.

you enjoy making things complicated, don't you?

you can't be serious.

i simply wanted to steal a moment, while i still can.

i will not let him take you from me.

i want a man who sweeps me off my feet, who gives me flowers and reads me poetry by candlelight. i want the ideal.

pretend you don't know this about me.

the flirting. with me. i've... noticed it. unless it is my imagination, which is entirely possible.

i'm thinking less flattering things now.

perhaps this would be a good time to stop talking.

what makes you think i would welcome your pity?

you so rarely call me by my name, [name]. why is that?

you were together for a long time?

i enjoy fighting at your side, [name].

you're not as handsome as you think.

romance is not the sole province of dithering ladies in frilly dresses. it is passion. it is being swept away by the pursuit of an ideal. what is not to like about that?

i was hoping we could speak privately.

you're smiling a great deal these days. do you always do it while staring dreamily into the distance?

such fascinations reveal far more about the teller than the truth.

i did not realize it took so little to exceed your expectations.

i do not trust any event where hitting someone isn't an option.

me? in a dress? it's ludicrous!

what would i have to blush about?

i take it you think i'm frightening?

if you had done that in our last sparring match, you might have won.

were you not suggesting earlier i should be more intimidating?

how is manipulating and bullying people supposed to be enjoyable?

i don't wear "underpants."

if you are going to pursue this, make it worth it. be happy.

i've never considered what i must look like to someone common. i must indeed seem terrifying.

i wasn't very interested to begin with.

you will never let that go, will you?

i do not "rough people up."

do not pretend to be an innocent bystander.

are you eager to see me go?

what we had was fleeting.

this... is not a discussion i want to have here.

not all my feelings involve stabbing.

i am not without my sympathy, especially given recent events.

i thought you might be concerned.

i suppose that is all we will ever know.

thank you, [name]. that... does make me feel better.

i assume you have advice?

when it is done, i promise what you have done here will not be forgotten.

i thought you would be pleased.

no one has ever accused me of reinforcing reality before.

i should not have asked.

you have seen so much sadness in your journeys.

your opinion of me must be very low to surprise you so often.

i know myself and i cannot be the leader we need. thus, i have no regrets.

the world hinges on our actions. we face death at every turn.

it was an accident. well... mostly an accident.

we must pray it never comes to that.

what made you change your mind?

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madwomansapologist · 4 months

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smile for the camera | peach salinger

Navigation | More Best Friends Forever AU | AO3

synopsis: Peach has been sick for so long, it makes sense that now she wants to have fun. What was supposed to be just a drink or two turned into an endless night - albeit a forgettable one for your drunken brain. But Peach has more than enough photos to prove that what happened is not imagination.

warnings: yandere!peach salinger. smut. groping. nudes. fingering. oral. toxic friendship. codependency. her rare illness that reaaaaally exists. gaslighting. manipulation. jealousy. substance abuse which means this is somehow equally dub!con? cheating. as a survivor of a homoerotic toxic friendship, this is more of a confession. in this house we support women's wrong. female!reader.

You should be preparing for next week's seminar for your work. More than that, you wanted to be preparing yourself. It's important, you worked a lot on it. You promised yourself that you would finally make sure that everything was ready and set for your big day.

And yet there you were. Driving towards Peach's location. Not the first time. Certainly not the last.

Peach just had the worst week of her life - acording to her huge history of messages, twitter account and daily Be Real updates. Another complication of her rare disease. It's something about gluten and PH. You never really understood what it's, all you need to know is that it's serious.

And you weren't there for her.

Peach is way more than just a friend. She's your family. You know her since graduation. A couple of years, but it feels like a lifetime ago. She's been there beside you for so long that you can't actually remember how life was before her.

She's always there for you. Since the first day. A kind listener to your ramblings about horrible teachers turned into someone that would hear anything you needed to say. And Peach can count on you too. What for her started as someone who actually knew how to do makeup ended with someone who would clean her tear stained face.

Peach's advices may be harsh to say the less, but she always is there to hear about your problems. It was so difficult when you were suddenly fired from your last job, but you knew you could count on her - still embarrassing to accept money from her, but what other choice did you had?

When your grandma passed, she was there for you too. When you lost your cat, when your car died out of nowhere, when you discovered in the worst way possible that blush actually does spoil.

Peach is always there for you, just as you're always there for her. But just when she was sick... you weren't there to help.

Away for the holidays, with your family, everything was perfect. That's what hurted you the most. If it was at any other week you would be worried, yet not guilty. But of course it happened right on the week you knew Peach would be alone.

Fuck her decease, and fuck her shit family.

You almost came back. You even told her. Peach tried to tell you not to, but you really would. But your mom almost killed you with her stare just from mentioning that you might need to go back to New York earlier.

Back to town, you had so much to do, but what else could've you say when Peach asked if you were free to go drinking with her? Maybe the truth. But the truth wouldn't help her, nor would make you feel good about yourself.

Just two or three drinks, you told her.

"Pookie!" Peach called you when you entered the pub. You looked around, the place with more movement than usual, and saw her waiving for you. "Right there!"

You dropped your purse on your usual place. Peach knows the owner, and he always makes sure to have her favorite place free. You kissed her cheeks, relieved to see that she looked healthy.

"I knew that dress would suit you perfectly," Peach pulled the hem of the golden piece. Her fingers stayed there longer than necessary, just feeling the warmth of your skin throught the dress.

You sat down, seeing that she had already asked for your drink. Exactly what you wanted. "Thaaanks," you pratically purred at her. "I have clothes at your home, I will give it back to you tonight."

Peach took a sip from her drink, mirroring you. She fixed her hair, as if it wasn't perfectly done. "You can stay with it. Looks better on you, anyway."

"Always trying to gift me things," you rolled your eyes, but a smirk quickly appeared on your face. 'So... who are we talking shit about tonight?"

"Boo... I've missed you so, so, so much," Peach grabbed your hand.

You held it gently, your thumb brushing against the soft skin of her palm. So warm, so free of any scars. Peach's hair smells like milk, her neck like strawberry, her breath like mint. But her hands always smelled like honey.

"I've missed you too."

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯ ⋆✦⋆ ⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

You drank way more than three drinks.

The night started on that pub, but it didn't end there. Somehow things with Peach always ends with you both wandering throught New York. As if live was a tv show. Maybe that's something that happens to rich girls, and you're experimenting it out of proximity.

Going on different bars, laughing at anything that moves, talking about epiphanies that wouldn't survive the night. It wasn't a surprise that it would turn into a drunk karaoke night, but you'll still get surprised by the photos on your phone.

Struggling, Peach unlocked the main door of her house. You went upstairs trying not to fall, and put your heels on the floor - you don't remember taking them off.

Peach dropped her purse, not caring about where it would fall, and stretched. That was too much. Definitely too much. Peach is used to get wasted, but even she was affected.

She don't even remember how you both managed to get to her home. For a matter of fact, neither do you. After a certain point, the night was nothing but a dark blur.

Peach knew you would do everything to come back to her. You have the biggest heart ever. She wanted you to spend new years eve with her, but she undertood you wanted to be with your family. But when she saw the picture of your new boyfriend with your mom... she needed to do something to stop that.

He just... He don't deserve you. He's not on your level. You need someone that will be able to take care of you. Someone that will assure that you can work on your researches, that will give you freedom, that will support you in all ways that matter.

And that's not that guy. How will be your future with him? Worrying about mortcages and settling for the basics when you deserve the best? You deserve more. And if you can't see that, than she'll open your eyes.

Her sickness wasn't able to get you back, but now you're here she'll make sure to tomorrow morning give you a few advices. She didn't mean to make you feel guilty, but if you feeling guilty makes her have so much fun... Peach ain't able to say that she's ashamed.

"You ain't going to throw up, right?" Peach kicked her heels away, moonlight illuminating her bedroom. "I really don't want you to die while I sleep."

You just rolled your eyes, admiring yourself through the mirror. "I feel so pretty."

"That's because you are, pookie," Peach sat on her bed. Getting her earrings off, she followed your hands as you slid them across your dress. Her dress.

You licked your lips. "I feel... hot."

Peach sighed. She needs you in her life. You're half of her. You're hers. Most of the time she can ignore that. She can pretend that being your friend includes wanting your attention all the time, needing to always have an eye on you, dreaming of you.

But now with alcohol messing with her head, it was difficult to chose to look away from you. To keep on pretending that she don't want to look at you all the time. To shut up that part of her that knew you both are endgame. To not pretend that you're the forbidden fruit and she don't even need a snake to tempt her.

"That's because you do."

You looked at her hazy eyes. "You think so?"

"I know so."

It was your time to sigh. "I don't want to forget that," you played with the hem. "I would record me like this if I could."

Peach opened the second drawer of her nightstand. In the mirror, you saw the analog camera shining. “What an old thing,” you teased her.

"Then pose," she said. You turned to her, brows arched. She was already aiming it at you. "Smile for the camera."

You rolled your eyes, but smiled anyway. Even blinded by the flash you still knew she was too.

That wasn't the first time she used that camera to record you. You reorganizing your kitchen's cabinet, wandering through libraries, dining with a date. Peach can't believe you're real. She uses those photos as a proof of your existence. A proof that you're more than a fragment of her mind.

Peach thought you wouldn't want it. That you would think she was weird. But now you'd asked for it. As the flashes go on, you have fun with new poses. It was almost childish. Just two drunk woman having fun together.

You sat down on her bed, and Peach walked towards you. Looking at you through the camera, she tripped and fell on top of you. You laughed hard, your head against her pillows, as Peach tried to get up. She leaned on your shoulder, sitting on your lap, and felt your laugh echoing inside her.

Then the laughter ended, and silence consumed you both. Suddenly you both realized how late it was. How really lonely you both would've been if not by eachother company. Peach on your lap, the camera lying on the bed, your breathing unregulated.

"Is it ok if I take it off?" Your fingers were again pulling the hem of your dress. "Would you mind?"

"O-Okay," Peach whispered. "Go on."

Peach hesitated before reaching for the camera. Her hand was shaking. The first photo was just a grey blur. She breathed in and tried again. Then she saw.

You weren't looking to the camera.

You were looking at her.

The next was of your face. You body didn't even appeared. Your hair loose on her pillows, a lopsided smile breaking free, eyes glowing with the moonlight. The forbidden fruit, within reach of her touch.

"Am I pretty like this?"

Peach breathed in. "You're perfect."

"Show me," you whispered. "I want to see it."

Peach reached for your cheek, caressing it slowly. Her fingertip brushed against your lip, and you opened your mouth. Without even realizing what she was doing, Peach put her thumb inside your mouth.

The flash made you close your eyes, but she knew there was no way for you to not look perfect. The wet finger went down your body, marking your breasts with your own drool, and the flashes continued.

She could die from your expression as she pinched your nipple. Or from how easily you opened your legs for her. How you glowed, so sensitive to her fingers. How you arched your back. How you whispered her name.

Then she started recording it.

Her tongue against your clit, fingers inside of you. Her mouth on yours, hands grabbing your waist. Your drunken gaze, stupid mind, static body. Sometimes you spaced out, but Peach would bring you back to Earth.

It was slow, and torturing, and neverending. It was a fever dream, a blurred memory, a drunk imagination. It wasn't real. It couldn't be. A dream, that's the only explanation.

But her so precious photos and videos would proof otherwise.

if you enjoyed, please reblog! i promise it makes a difference ♡

@ madwomansapologist.tumblr.

#madwomansapologist #best friends forever au #yandere peach salinger #peach salinger #peach salinger x reader #peach salinger x you #peach salinger x y/n #you (netflix)#you (netflix) x you #you (netflix) x reader #you (netflix) x y/n #yandere x reader #yandere x darling #shay mitchell x reader #shay mitchell

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the-family-business-83 · 11 months

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Unexpected Calling – Part I

Masterlist - WIP

Fandom: Marvel

Prompt: A world class contract killer finds an envelope at his dead drop. Inside are $23.42 in short change and a letter handwritten by a 9-year old girl.

Type: Series

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x F!Reader's daughter (platonic obviously), Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

Genre: fluff, action, slight angst, might get smutty but idk yet

Warnings: Be prepared for some adult language! Nothing too crazy in this first part though, we're just getting started so that's my only warning for now.

Word count: 1.6k

Send me an ask to let me know if you wanna be added to/removed from the taglist!!

This post was Beta'd by @mariekoukie6661. Thanks a million!

A/N: Thought I'd throw my hand at a prompted fic! Hope you guys like it, I'll add a chapter directory and update as needed as the next parts are posted. So stay tuned 👀 Text dividers made by @firefly-graphics <3

Every morning is always the same when you're paid to kill. He'd been trying to be better about the whole actual killing part lately, but that didn't change his morning routine very much. He woke up to the sound of his alarm clock going off—yes, he still used one. If you asked for his reasoning, he'd tell you it's because it's less complicated and you can always count on it to work because it simply stayed plugged into the wall; in the event that the power went out? It had batteries for backup power, and you can't find that kind of peace of mind with just the alarms on your phone. He's still an old soul, sue him. He woke up at 6:45 am, on the dot, every morning without fail that way so it was rather effective.

After the blaring sound of his trusty alarm clock came the process of forcing himself out of bed and cleaning up for the day; shaving if necessary, freshening up, getting dressed, the works. This was generally when he'd change his appearance should the need arise, as well. But he didn't need to do that this morning and so he flicked the light to the bathroom off as he left the room when he was finished, heading out to his kitchen thereafter. The next step? Food. It was always 7 am sharp by the time he got done with his wakeup process, the only time that changed being when he added any extra steps in the bathroom. And breakfast was always simple: a cup of hot black coffee, sliced avocado, and bread toasted to perfection with an egg over medium to be dipped in. And it never failed to be a pleasant way to start his morning, usually followed closely after by a session of watching the morning news. He found it a good way to see what was going on in the area and across the country so he could plan accordingly.

If he didn't have a job, which by chance was the case today, he'd generally find any sort of quiet way to spend the rest of his morning; reading a book, cleaning up all his weapons, or a walk in the park if he felt like it. Today, he felt like it. And it was mostly peaceful, if you excluded the grating sound of car horns, tires squealing, and buses chuffing past. And of course, if you chose to ignore the rumbling from the subway, the people shouting either in their urgency to get to work or just simply because they were an ass, then it was really utterly plain and quiet to walk through Central Park. By this point Bucky had truly gotten used to it. He supposed in some ways it wasn't too much different from his home in the past. But that didn't mean he liked to spend too much time there anyway. So long as he got out and went back home just in time, he could skip the gradeschoolers and dog walkers that came around for the afternoon.

There had been nothing unusual about his day so far, and he liked that. He liked the rhythm of it all, and how it always went according to his carefully curated schedule. He began the process of unlocking his apartment door after making his way up to his floor, and pushed it open to take a step inside. Crunch.

What the helll...?

Bucky frowned as, seemingly, something sat under his boot and crinkled where he'd stepped, making the same sound again as he carefully pried his foot off. The poor, crisply folded, paper envelope that had earlier been slotted through his dead-drop, suffered a dirt-covered footprint but aside from that, it seemed harmless and intact as he picked it up to inspect it. A curious thing to find when you hardly get mail aside from the bills. What was even more curious was the contents within it, feeling a bit lumpy and—quite frankly—heavy for a letter-sized envelope. He closed the door behind himself with one hand, locking it once again out of habit while the other kept hold of the envelope. Moments later he flicked out a switchblade to slice it open revealing not only a handwritten letter but also $23.42.....Exactly. All in small change.

It was quite honestly the oddest thing he'd seen or received to date, and that was including the number of quite-literal backstabs he'd received, numerous other maiming injuries, and the odd encounters he’d had with a talking raccoon, tree, and robot...man…thing. To name a few. That was also including the number of odd jobs he'd been offered and peculiar payment methods he'd been given. Never had he come across such a specific payment with a letter that….upon further inspection….looked as though its penman couldn't be much older than 9 years old, at most.

'Dear mister,

My name is Rosie Jones. I am 9 yeers old. My mommy says you're vary good at helping people. Well, I need your help. Mommy also said you like to be paid for helping, so I broke my piggy bank open so you wood help us. Mommy doesn't know yet thoe, so please don't tell her.

My mommy dissuhpeered disappeered last night. She told me to hide and I did but now I can't find her and so I need your help mister becuz you're really good at finding people too, mommy said so. Please please help me find my mommy, I don't know what to do mister.

– Rosie'

"You've gotta be shitting me." He muttered to himself. The first question Bucky had, quite honestly, was how did this little girl even know who he was? Or where he lived? Not many people did, if any, truth be told. If they did? They were usually dead within minutes. It was one of many reasons that kept his renowned status intact. But here he was, sitting at his own table, with proof that some little girl knew both of those things. Frowning down at the paper and envelope of change, the assassin ran his hand back through his dark brown hair momentarily, processing what he'd just read. On one hand, it could be an elaborate trap. By all rights he had to assume it, considering the nature of the letter and the fact that a little girl of all people had written it. But on the other hand, there was a certain dedication there that he simply couldn't ignore. And some part of him couldn't help but at least look into it. So moments later, the man was pulling out his laptop and began searching for answers, anything that could give this little girl's story any sort of credit.

Much to his surprise? It checked out. Every last bit of it. There was a mother, connected to the Rosie Jones in question, who had gone missing under rather mysterious circumstances. "I'll be damned, mystery kiddo."

'Y/N Jones, aged 37, a single mother, was nowhere to be found the next morning after reports came in that a struggle and silenced gunshots were heard from the house that night.'

He probably could have gotten away with just keeping the money and letting it go. It was some little kid somewhere hoping for someone to hear her plea, he could get away with it. But it was that name…. he'd seen it before, he knew he had. In all fairness though, he really only remembered faces exceptionally well. Names didn't matter in the long run, names didn't tell him who he was shooting within a crowd of people. So why did it keep nagging at the back of his mind?...

Spoiler alert: he shouldn't have went digging. He should have just left it alone. But he had always been a curious mind and he was nothing if not thorough on top of that. Popping open the top to his bottle of whiskey, Bucky carefully poured out a favorable portion into a glass tumbler, before letting it down onto the counter as he heard an agreeable noise coming from his laptop to signal it had finished its task. Glancing over his shoulder, he sipped on his drink as he made his way back over to the table, having waited for what seemed like an hour to get the information he wanted. And the minute he looked at the screen was the very same minute he regretted it.

He knew that face.

He knew it like the back of his hand almost, he knew it the same way he knew the taste of bourbon or the sound of a .22 magnum. That was the face of Y/N Y/L/N and it was a face he had been trying to forget for years now. But most of all he knew it was a mistake to have even touched this with a ten-foot pole. Because now he had a target, he knew what the target looked like, and he had been paid in- well, maybe not-so-full, but in 9-year-old currency $23.42 was basically a million dollars considering it was all her savings.

In short?

He had to do it now.

He knew that. And it damn near made him groan at the prospect. Because this was going to be a long-ass job, and if he was going to ensure the rescue of that little girl's mother, then he needed to ensure that child's safety. The less leverage the 'enemy' had, the easier his job was. So as he sighed out, "Damnitall, this better be fuckin worth it kid," the hundred year old assassin finished off his drink and went about packing his things to take on a job that he never asked for, but knew damn well he was stuck with until it was over.

But at least if he had to go through with this, he was going to be damn sure he did it right, that was for sure.

Taglist: If you weren't tagged it's because I couldn't get it to tag you or I didn't know which account was yours – @aingealcethlenn @deaan @idabbleincrazy @impala-1979 @kadet-jb @myinconnelly2 @princessmisery666 @rosedemica @tvdspngirl314 @darsynia @buckys-zomdoll @cookingglitterfairy @emilyshurley @fictionalabyss @jotink78 @mariekoukie6661 @manawhaat @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @scarletwinchester84 @sorenmarie87 @until-theend-oftheline @starryeyes2000 @thing-you-do-with-that-thing @betweengalaxies2 @focusonspn

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dana-chan-the-control-brain · 4 months

Note

Hello! I know you're one of the people who ship Moon and Solar (TSAMS) And y'all have gotten me into the ship as well! XD I'm not caught up on the lore of the show(s) So i haven't even seen Solar IN SHOW before (i am very behind to before Lunar was Sun and Moons brother :' D) But I have some ideas I'm debating writing for the ship buttt....I have no clue how Canon Solar acts??? Do you know if theres somewhere I could find a Summary on his personality? (and I suppose...new Moon?) I'll probably unintentionally make them OOC...never written for anything TSAMS related, but i'll try!

And is there a ship names thats...like used for them instead of Solar X Moon or is it just called that?

Anywho, I hope you have a good day/night!!! You make awesome stuff! (And I know theres been some people making drama over the ship, I hope you don't let them get to you too much tho!! <3 /P)

🦈Anon

AWESOME!

Heheheh. Thank you. I've been shipping these two since June 2023 so I'm glad I can share the brainrot and some people are more welcoming and cool then I expect. (mostly the ones who can't think critically are the youtube audience but that's expected. Since a lot of the youtube target audience are... like.. minors or really young adults who can't conceive the concept.)

I rewatch that Episode where Solar changes his name and rebuilds the Daycare in a week just for Moon constantly cause it's just... so much admiration and appreciation Moon has for Solar in that episode. I swear I don't know if it was a flub on the actor's part... but I swear Moon calls him 'sexy' as he's dragging him to charge. the stock sound effect of "OOOOH" doesn't help my APD and I've listened so many times and I have no possible idea what Moon could be saying to Solar other then 'come here you stupid, sexy-...." (trails off) sooo... idk. I might have misheard that severely but that's just what I'm hearing.

Like, in terms of New Lore of the show, it gets pretty complicated.

So complicated in fact, TSAMS themselves released a new video on the subject.... But it's NOT a very good guide, as it misses a lot of things. (and no I don't mean the stupid guest cameo stuff) this is more or less an abridged take on what happens with no emotional impact:

youtube

Like, this is a good starting point if you want the barest of bones, but it misses so much stuff. I think they don't even mention how Solar gets introduced into this family. lol. Just like "yeah Im here and I helped kill Eclipse" fheahehf. It's a super well made video though, and I don't mind the editing mistakes (clearly when the actors change the avatar on screen.... whoops. Happens a few times)

There is also the Fan Wiki, but as of now, it is incomplete, (@twinanimatronics is working tirelessly on updating the wiki and I wish they got more reconignition from the tsams community as a whole ) but it does give a decent look into Solar

There is also the huge TSAMS Lore Document, which Ceph(twinanimatronics) also worked on which contains a further detailed explanation of the story so far, for those who don't have time to watch 2 years worth of youtube content that aren't in a concrete playlist. (TSAMS. PLAYLIST YOUR STUFF PROPERLY. YOU HAVE TWO YEARS OF LORE HERE)

Liike.... yeah... this is okay but like..

This is VRchat. Aka the lore. Which also includes when they play videogames in VRchat, which don't impact the story... Like Uno, Amongus and SCP stuff.....

And it doesn't divide the arcs. Something that TSAMS severely needs more then any other SB Show channel.

Also, in the early days, the gameplay videos USED to be part of the lore. As the concept of Eclipse itself, being a rouge evil ai that lived in Sun's head (as it was presented initially but we know the truth it was the killcode moon planted in Sun when they separated.)

These days, they kinda dropped the gameplay videos being directly connected to the over arching plot. Other then just saying that their vids are pre-recorded or "we're back" after an annual halloween takeover.

Not to mention... When Earth and Lunar got a show, they became intertwined with the Sun and Moon show. LAES is very much it's own thing, but it's the ONLY Security Breach Show that consists of two Original Characters spawned from the Sun and Moon show. A rarity. So their lore continues off from the Sun and moon show, giving more info on Lunar these days and Earth (their sister)

Then you have the Monty and Foxy show (which is my least favorite of the shows... Personal Preference. I try not to complain cus I know some people like it. But I do not like the plot points in that show, or the character writing and weird directions they take while being connected to the same universe.)

And Monty is a character voiced by Davis, who also voices Sun. So Monty started out as a prominent character on the Sun and Moon Show, and then got his OWN show... at a point in TSAMS history after Eclipse got the star and killed Lunar.

So yeah. I wish the playlists were better organized here. So we knew when each era starts.

(people say Matpat should get on this show lore... And noooooooo no thanks. Keep him away. We got you covered. Ceph honestly has enough info to make a video guide at this point.)

But long story short, Solar is a "Good Eclipse" from another dimension that the Old Moon introduced to Lunar, when Lunar was struggling with his trauma of leaving Eclipse. Good Eclipse and Lunar become friends.

Anyway, here are some key episodes that outline NewMoon and Solar's relationship, as Solar had never met the Old Moon.

Old Moon had never met Solar. It was New Moon who introduced himself to Solar to help defeating Eclipse once and for all. (and by this point lunar had died)

youtube

He was actually surprised that this Moon was a chill Moon and could be reasoned with and talked to, considering he was living a rather oppressive life from his own Moon.

There's also a whole episode saga of just these two bantering and talking while they work on the satellite together. I can't remember which specific episodes those are.

You can also see the difference between the Evil Eclipse and Good Eclipse here in one of my all time favorite episodes:

youtube

Moon saving Solar's life: (also the death of the bad Eclipse)

youtube

Everything is good and happy after Eclipse dies for awhile. (aside of Ruin and Bloodmoon wrecking shit) He goes back to his own dimension... and you get to see what his sad life is like:

youtube

From his Moon calling him "byproduct" and failure very often.

But... Something happens and Solar is forced to come to Moon's dimension

here's Solar at his poor little meow meow "I have nowhere to go" stage and just... thought to go to Moon immediately due to their history.

youtube

Moon's only question about Solar moving in, is that if he wanted him to blacklist his dimension once he heard what was going on with his Moon.

And immediately, Solar jumps in to help Moon with his problems.

Also during the halloween takeover part 2 electric boogaloo, Solar was the one to help get Sun and Moon back after being teleported to a different dimension with no hopes of returning

youtube

Also, after Ruin was cured and Bloodmon ran off, Solar rebuilt the ruined Daycare in a week. And Moon is so grateful for it. (i rewatch this episode a lot. It cemented the ship in my mind and built the commodity that they've been building up for months)

youtube

We also get what Solar's daily life is like so far... How out of place he feels, being someone from a different dimension, despite the Brothers (and sister's) insistence, he still doesn't really feel like he's part of the family. He feels like an outsider. (He also has less opportunities to hang out with Lunar. As he expressed interest in playing games with him like the good old days, and as of recently, they have not yet)

also a good example of the Celestial family changing minds on family dynamics because they are robots. Lunar flat out rejected Vegeta-Animatronic is his brother even if he technically is. Like, they're robots. They can change their relationships to each other based on their word. I like to see it more flexible then it is in reality with actual people/humans.

Moon also trying to make Solar feel comfortable and feel like he's adjusting well here. Expressing his concern for him doing so much for him and his family. And hoping to not pressure him into so much work.

youtube

As of recently, his Sun died, and he killed his Moon. And in his therapy session (on the Lunar and Earth Show) he expressed regret over "Leaving" them...

But he has not properly told anyone about this.

My reasoning is that he probably thinks that the family will jump on the chance to call him "Evil" .....They don't have good luck with Eclipses.... and every Eclipse they met other than him has been Evil. (that must weigh on you. Every version of yourself is deemed as evil across every dimension. You are the only good one. Maybe there is something wrong with you)

I'm already at the video limit, but on Lunar and Earth show, there is an interesting episode where Lunar goes into Solar's head, and his mindscape looks like the Willy Wonka TV room, because it was a movie he watched with his Sun before they separated and Sun died. Showing that he did care about his Sun a whole lot... Which is probably why he doesn't interact with our Sun that much alone.

He also compartmentalizes everything before he can feel emotions, playing his own memories in third person as if he's not experiencing them.

Not to mention, he organizes and separates his thoughts on NewMoon and HIS Moon, just so he won't associate the two.

I also missed what episode it was, but Solar is always the first to call Moon out when he's being angry, or irrational, and Sun admits in his therapy session, that Solar is the only person who can calm Moon down. (mainly cus he's used to it, but unlike his old moon, this moon listens)

Anyway...

I love Solar a lot, can you tell?

#danachan's replies #danachan's asks #solarmoon #solar x moon #Solar analysis

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4rtificialfolio · 9 days

Text

It’s Complicated, My Darling - Chapter 1

Chpt. 1: “Cat got your tongue, doll?”

“Ada is an operative in the 1940s from Brighton in England, sent over to New York City to work with the Americans, uncovering secrets and spying on potential suspects. She meets a handsome young man, Nick Folio, on the train into the city; little does she know how that moment would change the trajectory of her life”

Parings: Nick folio X OFC (Ada Chapman)

Word count: 1.6K

Chapter Warnings: brief mention of war, slightly suggestive, explicit language, fluff

Series master list

(see masterlist for overall warnings, chapter begins below the cut)

Ada

May 20th 1941

New York City, USA

7:00 am

Dear Diary,

Yesterday is still a haze and I barely slept all night, tossing and turning thinking about him. I still can’t believe my luck or lack thereof. Things are always too good to be true and yesterday proved that. God damn you, Nick. It had to be you didn’t it? Who am I kidding, we met once and he’s cute but that’s it. I don’t know him, he was just an attractive man on the train who just so happens to be the man I’m being told to track. It can’t be so different from any other mission, can it? I can do this, I’m bloody brilliant at this job and this mission will be a piece of cake, I hope.

In other news, Dad sent another letter. He thinks they might have to evacuate soon, after the raid on the Portsmouth docs the whole town is on edge but hopefully, it won’t come to that. Denis is already missing and I don’t know what I’d do if I lost Dad and Peggy too. I can’t think about that, I shouldn’t.

Anyway, I’ll be back tomorrow.

I’m sure I’ll have a more interesting update after I’ve started my undercover work today,

Ada

The Precinct, 9:30 am

My train was delayed today, my first day on the cover job and I’m already late. Great first impression Ada!

“Miss Chapman, I presume?” a middle-aged man, with a not-so-flattering navy blue suit and a grey homburg hat that he definitely should’ve thrown away in the 30s, calls my name from across the ground floor.

“A little late but I’ll give you the benefit of the doubt considering It’s your first day”. By the affirmative tone of his low, grumbling voice, I assume he’s the captain; Michael Brewer. I wonder if he knows he’s missing a button on his shirt?

“Yes sir, nice to meet you. Apologies for my Tardiness”

“Please follow me, I’ll take you to your desk so you can settle in. We run a tight ship here Chapman and I expect the very best from my employees, no less. let's hope you can keep up” I internally snicker at the tight ship remark. If it truly was a tight ship, I wouldn’t be here. If not for the fact I’m here undercover, I wouldn’t bat an eyelid at that sentence; but something about it unsettles me. Alarm bells ring in my head. Michael will be on my watch list.

The tour is pretty mundane, I’ve only been hired as the secretary for my department so there’s no need for me to see the entirety of the precinct however, one room, in particular, catches my eye. The captain’s office, I’ll have to make a mental note of its whereabouts. Michael has been rambling on about the pride and joy of the precinct, and how he’s “built a family he can trust”; I refrain from laughing, being late on my first day is one thing but being fired for rudeness on the first day? I think I’ll pass. Before I know it, We’ve already reached my department floor. It’s nothing too extravagant but it’s certainly the biggest. The criminal investigation department has the most employees in the entire precinct, from the constable to the detective team, the sergeant, translators, the medical examiners and then there’s me, the secretary. I know Nick is a detective and, in fact, I’m pretty sure he’s the lead detective. Speaking of him, I wonder if he’s in today?

Before I can allow myself to get carried away with my wondering thoughts, Michael finally finishes his boastful rant and shows me to my desk.

“Right chapman, this is your desk. You’ll be doing the majority of your administrative work here but it’s important to store any important and private documents in the file room and I expect them to be logged at the end of each shift. Understood?” Having to lock them away might be a slight problem, I need solid evidence for this case but having access to the file room could be beneficial.

“Yes sir”

“I’ll leave you to settle in and meet your colleagues, we’re happy to have you, Chapman”

“Well look who it is!” an oh-so-familiar voice averts my attention, making me turn away from my desk.

“Nick? Uh I mean Mr Folio” Addressing another boss of mine by his first name, today is just tip-top.

“What’s with the formalities Doll? Please everyone calls me Nick around here, Mr Folio sounds way too formal for my liking”. My breath hitches and I chew on my bottom lip as he calls me ‘doll’. Doll, I like the sound of that. He looks extra sexy today. Sure he looked handsome in a black tank top, but now? He’s wearing a white spear point collard dress shirt paired with navy blue suit trousers with white stripes, a brown, white dotted tie and brown leather oxfords. I can’t help but stare, the top two buttons of his shirt are unbuttoned and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbow, showing off his tanned, veiny arms. Heat flushes across my body down to my core, he’s hot. Real hot and I’m flustered.

“Cat got your tongue, doll?” He smirks. There’s that damned nickname again.

Everything about him entices me and I know these feelings are wrong, but I just can’t help myself. I’m supposed to be working against him, spying on him and digging for info but he’s just so sweet to look at.

“Sorry just a little tired, what did you say?”

“I said I was about to go on lunch and you owe me a lunch date, care to join?” A date? I’m sure it’s just a figure of speech.

“Sure! You’ll have to pick where we go, I’m afraid I’m not familiar with the city yet” Nick quickly grabs his suit jacket and grey fedora from his desk at the back of the room and gently puts his hand on the small of my back to lead me out of the precinct. A tingle surges up my spine at the light contact, causing a slight shiver.

Nick takes me to a cute little diner about a block away. There’s a yellow and red sign that reads “Fred’s cafe & diner” and a couple of cars parked out front including a new, mint green chevrolet fleetline. Dad told me about these new cars in one of his letters, he thinks they’re an eyesore but I quite like them.

We settle into a small booth in the corner, right by the window that overlooks the narrow street next to the diner. I’m conflicted, I’m sat across from one of the most, if not the most, handsome men I’ve ever met. His eyes are so dreamy; he’s practically eye-fucking me from across the table, looking down ever so slightly at my lips, as I make small talk about the fleetline out front, and my stomach turns to goo. I begin to wonder what what his lips taste like, how he’d look pushing me up against the wall; but it’s a fleeting thought. Stay on track Ada. A waitress takes our orders and there’s a tense silence among us.

“So doll, how are you enjoying the city so far?” I wish he’d stop calling that.

“It’s not too bad, I really miss the beach and my family but I love the livelihood here. It's a nice change” Home, I miss home. All I want is to hug Peggy and Dad but until the war is over, this is home in the meantime.

“Damn I don’t know why you’d pass up the seaside to live here of all places, but I’m glad you did” Leaning forward on his arms, he smirks.

“Really?”

“Sure, I get to look at your pretty face every day. Sounds like a nice perk to me” He winks. My cheeks turn a subtle shade of pink whilst I find myself attempting to stop a cheesy grin from spreading across my face.

“How about you? How does life here compare to Maryland?”

“Hmm It’s good, I love the job but I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the war. I used to be a detective back in Maryland but I was relocated here to help with the war effort” Sometimes I forget about the war; moments like these make me feel normal and happy as if there’s not a single care in the world. But then I read the paper and I’m brought back to reality.

“Watch’ya thinking in that pretty little head of yours?” Concern starts to grow on his face.

“I was just thinking of home and the war, you know? I miss my family and life before it all started” My heart sinks thinking about it all.

“Oh doll, we don’t know each other too well yet and I know I can’t compare to your real home, but I promise I’ll do my best to make you a home away from home. Can’t stand to see a pretty face frown.” Is this the right guy? I mean, really? This is the so-called dangerous man who’s supposed to be stealing money from the precinct? I’ve never met such a gentle, caring soul; and not to point out the obvious but, fuck he’s handsome, I wouldn’t mind feeling his hands on my hips sometime. No, no I can’t think like that. I have a job to do, I mustn’t lose my focus. My thoughts are quickly averted as Nick says my name from across the table, signalling our lunch break is almost over. Come on Ada, snap out of it.

“Thank you, Nick. I’m sure I’ll feel right at home with you”

With you? Shit.

I am royally fucked.

AN: Sorry this took so long! I was in a really long writing slump but i'm hoping to get a chapter out every two weeks (no promises). I'm really looking forward to you guys seeing what happens between Nick and ADA. Ada has very quickly become my favourite character I've ever written. Please let me know your thoughts! Again, please let me know if you'd like to be added to my tag list for this series :)

reminder my inbox is always open if you’d rather send your thoughts about this series or any of the omens members anonymously (no fic requests).

Tag List: @iknownothingpeople , @dsireland86 , @vinyardmauro , @thatchickwiththecamera , @blackveilomens

#nick folio #bad omens #bad omens band #noah sebastian #jolly karlsson #nicholas ruffilo #bad omens fic #nick folio smut #nick folio fic #fish boy #4rti #4rtificialfolio #it's complicated my darling

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randomnumbers751650 · 6 months

Text

Talking about a ship for me is complicated because the feeling that I might be missing something or extrapolating too much. But still, I want to talk about Kafka/Blade.

Since HSR is a gacha, the chances of playable characters having romantic relationships are very low, so the fans have to pick the crumbs. Sometimes it’s pretty much obvious the devs want certain characters together, but the hand of the gacha business model holds them back. Other times, not really, maybe the devs are really aiming for platonic or other. And, of course, fans are free to interpret their own. So, I’m here to give my interpretation of KafBlade, why it called my attention.

From their interactions, they are working together and they have a level of affection: Kafka calls him Bladie (and he’s upset if others call him by that), Blade loves hearing her singing and is receptive to her whispers; they also seem to have good synergy in the battlefield. It also works in accomplishing missions, with Kafka’s lack of fear making her prone to injuries and Blade acting as her immortal bodyguard. Plus, there’s the implication they had to fake being a couple for a mission, which I hope it never gets a full flashback because imagining how it went is funnier. How they complement each other is what makes them so interesting.

They are both fundamentally broken people. We know Blade’s story, but it’s pretty implied Kafka has some tragedy in the closet (with Blade commenting he doesn’t want to see her sad; would it really be surprising?). And, they are villains after all.

But still, what I see in them is how they can still experience with each other things that they couldn’t imagine to experience or that they thought that they’d never experience. For example, Kafka is a liar. It’s a strength in her job, to the point even when she’s telling the truth it still feels she’s lying. She uses her whispers to dominate men and then discard them when they’ve done their jobs. She goes full “nothing personnel, kid”, because for her everything is just a job.

And then, one day, appears a guy who’s like “can you do that again?” A guy who wants to be whispered, whose lies sooth and motivate him. And then she learns he’s an immortal that wants to die and then she decides that she’ll help, but that she will strive to make his life more fun until that day because he amuses you. She has no feelings for him, because she has no feelings at all (or are very different from what normal people think to be); either she wasn’t born with them or the organization she learned her skills remove them, but still she just wants to make him feel good about his journey to death.

Blade is similar: he wants revenge. He crafted his entire life and used all his bladesmith skills to pursue that goal; it’s easy to imagine him forgoing everything, his feelings, his self-care, eating whatever slop he puts on his face, a very miserable life. And then one day a woman appears saying “join me” and she’s actually…fun to be around. Sure, they are using each other to their respective objectives, but there’s something more to it. He starts to pick her habits and helps her whenever she needs carry her stuff. And then he starts to wonder that, yes, his life sucks, but it sucks a bit less with her around. The blade he crafted for revenge can be used to protect, unexpectedly.

It should be noted that the devs already had opportunities to portray their relationship as toxic and abusive, but they haven’t. I’m not sure I’d call healthy either, but there seems to be a mutual respect and trust about them. I mean, they are dangerous (along with the rest of the Stellaron Hunters, Silverwolf, Sam and Elio himself (it’d be really funny if he was the cat)), but still it’s not hard to imagine them as a found family. We have to wait for future updates to see how they’ll be developed, but their Team Rocket dynamic with the heroes is fun.

One last thing is how I think it’s funny that KafBlade is “what if Gojo and Marin (from My Dress Up Darling) were evil?”. Kafka is the extroverted girl that loves shopping and fashion, while Blade is the recluse artist, but that grew bitter - as Yingxing, he was one the best bladesmiths of the Xianzou, he knows what beauty is (also please read the fanfic “dal segno al fine”, it really captures this side of his) – and would be reluctant even if Kafka’s feelings were like Marin’s; Kafka would have to have a lot of patience, but I think she’s not one to give up once she set up a goal.

I didn’t really review their text and quotes, I’m remembering all of it in the game and some comments in the internet. Even so, I wonder if others share these thoughts on them, especially the fact they bring out things that were previously kinda buried in each other, so it has potential for a more mature love story.

#honkai star rail #kafblade #blafka #kafka x blade #blade x kafka #again this is how i extrapolate #but still i never understood the term comfort ship until now #of course it also has potential for their interaction even as platonic #or platonic in the lack of a better term #stellaron hunters

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krirebr · 4 months

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For the IKISKB verse: what if Curtis was the celebrity (maybe an actor) and Reader was his PA or publicist? How would that change the dynamic?

Oh, I love this question! The short little thing I came up with has real ch 1 of IKISKB vibes. I went with Actor (action star) and PA. I hope you like it and it answers your question!

Just Part of the Process

Pairing: Actor!Curtis Everett x PA!Reader

Warnings: Explicit language, references to excessive drinking, adult themes, angst

You sat at the kitchen island on your laptop, going through emails and updating Curtis’s schedule. Schedule Tetris was your superpower, moving things around to make sure everything fit just so. It was one of the reasons he’d kept you around the last two years. One of many, you hoped.

It was about 1 PM when Curtis stumbled down from his bedroom and entered the kitchen. He went straight to the fridge, pulling out one of the fancy, high-electrolyte hangover cures you kept stocked. He pounded it quickly, recycling the container, and then finally looked at you. “Oh hey. How long have you been here?” he asked, his voice gritty with the remnants of sleep and whiskey.

“A few hours,” you said quietly. “I put your drycleaning in the downstairs closet. I didn’t want to wake you up. Now, I’m just working on your schedule.”

He grimaced. “Please tell me I’m clear today.”

You shook your head. “Your trainer will be here in half an hour.”

“Fucking shit,” he muttered and grabbed another drink out of the fridge.

You almost reminded him that his trainer was going to be pissed at him for being hungover, as Curtis was supposed to be bulking up for his next movie, but you didn’t need to bother. He knew.

“Did you have a good night?” you asked, instead.

“No,” he said in almost a growl. Shit, it was one of those nights. “Anything online?”

“I haven’t checked yet,” you said, carefully. Wondering what was on the gossip blogs was a bad sign. “Anything in particular I should be looking for?”

He shrugged. “I don’t–” he started, then looked away from you. “I don’t really remember clearly, but I feel like there might be something.” Oh, double shit. It was a really bad night, then.

This wasn’t fully out of the ordinary. Known as America’s Bad Boy by the tabloids and gossip blogs, it wasn’t uncommon to see stories about him insulting someone outside of a club, smashing a paparazzo's camera on the ground, loving and leaving some starlet. So you’d been surprised when you first met him to find that he was actually very quiet, soft-spoken when he did speak, respectful of your time, and appreciative of your effort. He was the third actor you’d PA’d for and by far the easiest to get along with.

But lately, he’d seemed increasingly tired and maybe a little – sad? He’d been going out even more than usual, blowing off prep for his next movie – which wasn’t like him at all, talking to you, or anyone, even less than normal. You’d prided yourself on being a help to him, knowing how to take care of him, but this? You didn’t know what to do about this.

The other complicating factor was the pesky feelings you’d developed over the past two years. You’d always known he was hot. He was an action star, that was part of the job. But up close and personal, you appreciated how beautiful he was. How kind. How thoughtful. How gentle. You were in love with him and you had been for a long time.

“Well,” you said, trying not to show your concern too plainly, “I’ll take a look and let you know what I find.”

He nodded absently, still looking away from you. You gave yourself a moment to take him in. He was a little hunched over, his skin paler than usual, his eyes a little sunken. You sighed, knowing you shouldn’t do it. He was an adult, he could face the consequences of his actions. But. You sighed, again. “I’ll call your trainer, and let him know you’ve come down with something. But that just means he’ll kick your ass even harder next time.”

You half-expected him to respond with a shit-eating grin or a sheepish smile. Instead, he looked at you very seriously. “Thank you,” he said. “I don’t deserve you.” You just sort of blinked at that, having no idea what to say. He turned back towards the stairs. “I’m going back to bed, wake me up if you need anything.”

He was almost to the staircase when you were finally able to turn your swirling thoughts into words. “Curtis,” you called out to him. He stopped and turned to look at you. “Are you ok?”

It was then that he shot you a cocky grin. You were a little stunned by the degree to which it didn’t reach his eyes. “Why wouldn’t I be ok?” he asked, then spun back around on his heel and trudged up the stairs, leaving you to worry alone in his kitchen.

Join my Krismas Party!

Tag lists are open

@stargazingfangirl18 @drabblewithfrannybarnes @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @before-we-get-started @veltana @andydrysdalerogers @royalwriteroftheuniverse @whosana-maria @dancer3205 @ijustneedpopcorn @mrsevans90 @pekusofixus @i-can-do-this-all-dayy

#krismas party #ask kris #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x you #curtis everett #snowpiercer #actor au #drabble #chris evans characters #chris evans fanfiction #i know i should know better #what if #kris wrote something

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blinkpen · 11 months

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wait do Colin and Zoe have to get their dumb ass mech parts body augments bolted back onto them everytime they respawn

As a general rule, no, they don't! Although for Zoetrope, it's a little more complicated. More on that in a bit.

Setting up how to explain this got a little long so I've put it, along with some more accompanying drawings/doodles, under a cut! But first, a fancy Lamarr (this is actually 100% relevant)

Respawn is used primarily to reconstruct living (or rather, once-living) matter; it actually takes more effort on Necrin's part to reconstruct inanimate things and objects, including clothing and personal affects. Once you have a sort of 'default' look about you, that's how you will respawn, and respawning that outfit's "free" as it were.

Now, even if they are constantly kept on your person, there are some things you have to jump through some hoops to ensure they respawn with you such as magical items or exceptionally unique pieces of tech. This is to prevent dangerous or valuable objects from being wrecklessly duplicated. In the event there is a respawn-induced duplication of a magical item, let's say a magical necklace, for example, one is instantly rendered a dud in terms of its magical properties. You can only guarantee the dud will be the one left behind on your corpse and the one on your respawned body has all its intended properties if you jump through the aforementioned hoops. If you don't, you better haul ass to where your body dropped and hope it hasn't been scavenged or disposed of with your corpse yet.

(On the topic of scavenging, the fact you never know if someone's magical item is 'attached' to them and that's now a dud or still the real deal if they bite it has its own bundle of consequences and plays a big role in the black market of the world. Respawn-induced duds that are then enchanted to briefly fool potential buyers are rampant)

You can 'update' your 'default' look, but doing this costs a not insignificant amount of money, on top of the money you already had to spend to just physically acquire/purchase the clothes in the first place. The only people who can gussy themselves up, and then not constantly be on edge about the risk of losing all that effort, or even the clothing itself, are people who have the kind of money and connections for Necrin to be regularly up to date on what fit to respawn them in every time they change clothes.

Your only other alternative really is to be enough of a badass you can dodge all danger and make it to whatever situation your special outfit is for without dying or the outfit itself taking any damage. But even badasses get unlucky.

Yeah, so I accidentally made an in-universe reason why the cartoon characters tend to wear the same clothes all the time except when it's particularly relevant to the story at hand, but I actually hadn't planned on it serving that purpose… Weird coiny dink.

I used a date as an example here, but in the nature of the beast/the themes of the work, you might imagine, hey, this could effect all kinds of things, like appointments, jobs where you have to wear a uniform or special gear, job interviews, etc, and it does, and that's explored i the story (as is the fact status can affect respawn speed as well, only further exacerbating the issue)

Now back to Collin and Zoetrope specifically, the entire original point of this ask, whoopsie doodle!

Collin sometimes likes to have his 'default' be cyborg arms, and sometimes he doesn't, so he updates it accordingly. He doesn't need to re-do the entire surgical process when he does this; he implanted a sort of 'middle man' cybornetic that the arms can be attached or detached from, which takes some time and precision from someone other than himself, but is obviously much less of an ordeal than putting ALL that tech back in. The 'middle man' cybernetics are there regardless, and sometimes he will pop the arms on and off without updating because of how minimal an inconvenience it is with how rarely he actually dies.

Now for Zoe, the control nodes/parts of the wheel directly attached to him/his body will respawn with him when he does, but the wheel itself, and its free floating node, will not. This is because the wheel was a personal affect (or potentially a body part, given the alien nature of the being) scavenged from an Agent monster, which, unlike lifeforms native to the core, do not respawn when slain/destroyed,. While the wheel is nigh-indestructible and can survive situations Zoe himself wouldn't, it has to be physically retrieved in the event Zoe is temporarily slain, or he's royally boned until they get it back.

yeah this is what i was talking about earlier i'm really mad how this pre-peeled zoe came out i keep playing with fire

#mog art #ask x #lamarr #20q #collin #zoetrope #charlie k #relic v 2 #monster enby #moster boy #oc babble #the agowilt #smoking cw #angel cw #body horror cw

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bumblebeehug · 2 months

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I've watched season 1-3 of winx in less than 4 days, and I'm so glad I grew up on that instead of cocomelon. Even when the script seemed cringe and not as fleshed out as it could be, they never made the people watching the show seem stupid (they made Bloom seem stupid instead, lol (half-joke)). The dialogue could be simplefied and sometimes a bit naive, but at the same time they never made it feel very simple? Maybe I'm just blinded bc I'm a sucker for illustrated animations, but the fact that they could make a complicated storyline with a lot of character arcs, while keeping the dialogue simple enough for kids to follow, is just amazing. And as if that wasn't amazing enough, the show had good balance in the art - it was colourful, the characters were dynamic and unique with different siluettes (something i rarely see in kids shows today), while also appealing to the preteen audience: the winx girls are strong, stylish, girly girls, who can seek out love from men without needing them to save them. They show that you can be unique in your friend group, and you can still be loved and appreciated (thinking about Musa, Techna and later on Aisha/Layla, who all aren't the stereotypical sweet/soft/stylish girls, but who still find friends who love them for who they are). (More analysis beneath the read more thing - mainly a discussion on how family is represented in the show and how important it is for children to be able to look up to female figures that can represent them. + some other stuff.)

Winx also casts light on a lot of different family dynamics - something i've only really seen Bluey do well recently. Stella's parents are divorced, Bloom is adopted, Musa's relationship with her dad is strained ever since her mom died, Aisha/Layla is an only child who struggled with lonliness despite having both of her parents together (they were absent bc of their royal duties), Techna doesnt seem to have any mayor issues, nor does Flora. And the thing is - these struggles are shown in such natural ways in the show. All of these dynamics turn out to be part of their journeys - Bloom struggles as a fairy because of her unknown past, so she must resolve it and find out more to be able to become a fully fledged fairy. Stella has dealt with her divorced parents most of her life, but in season 3 the entire Valtor thing strains her relationship with her father, and she has to overcome it so she can save him from Cassandra or whatever that duchess was called (girlie practically gets banned from her home planet, don't you forget). Faragonda brings Musa's dad to her first concert, which once again strains their relationship, but then strengthens it when he sees how capable she is, both as a musician and as a fairy. Aisha/Layla displays how it is to have more traditional parents - as a child she had lots of expectations to be a proper princess, which she for a long time still had trauma from, plus that her parents wanted to pick her future husband for her (they were all lucky that the two of them matched well lol). And then we have Flora who showed off sisterhood in an amazing way - worrying over and scolding her little sister, but never doubting for a second that she'd risk her life to save her. To the point though - everyone faces difficulties that can be reflected in most people's lives, and the show makes these journeys meaningful and important. I personally never had a need to see myself represented in my family situation, but my friend had divorced parents, and she told me that Stella's viewpoint made it easier for little her to deal with it. If Stella could overcome it (reminder that she still allowed herself to feel sad about it) then so could my friend.

Now, while I'm at it, I might as well continue ranting:

Maybe I'm just not updated in modern shows, but isn't there an entire market of preteens who are missing these types of shows today? We're always talking about how clothing trends and social media is forcing younger people to grow up eariler, but let's not forget that these kids have nothing if they don't decide to grow up immediately. There's no shows, no "toys" (i'm mostly talking about merch that caters to young people - "H2O just add water" pillowcases and diaries etc) and no older teens in these shows setting appropriate clothing trends. Shows aren't cool enough nowadays for preteens to see the appeal of being young. Too many shows are changing their target audience to younger and younger children - and not only shows! Just look at the Nesquik bunny! He went from 100% drip and style, to 100% millenial.

Ik this isn't anyone in particulars fault, but this is just my way of saying: go back to unique styles and outfits! Shows aren't cool anymore, and removing the illustrated style and exaggeration is absolutely part of that.

I also saw someone on TikTok critique the pace of the earlier seasons - they said everything was too slow-paced and boring, and honestly? I couldn't disagree more. Now, I don't have any difficulties concentrating, so maybe it's a bigger problem for people with ADHD or similar diagnosis, but the slower pace gave more time for me to immerse myself in the winx world. They added amazing vocals and soundtrack, that could either showcase heartbreak or joy, and these details made the show reach much higher quality, despite looking like it was made in the cheapest animation program ever.

I went off on a tangent, but I'm getting back to winx now - what I mean is that kids nowadays have no authentic way of finding shows like winx, mainly because there aren't any! Most shows are made for kids under the age of 8 or over the age of 13, and there's almost no inbetween. Shows don't do it like winx did anymore - they don't make the art appealing enough (bc the shows are never illustrated - fair enough i'll add, bc illustrated animation is too expensive to be profitable nowadays, but not even the animation is appealing anymore, they're all rapunzel-lookalikes/wannabes), they don't trust that the watchers have brains and critical thinking, so they make the stories too dumb, they don't have the guts to make scary storylines, and they try so hard to be inclusive without actually succeeding at it (making all the fairies even paler than what they were in the beginning of the show).

I'm sure everything I've said here has been said before a trillion times, but I wanted to get it off my chest. I won't blame anyone if they decide that they ain't reading allat bc i really ran with this. If u did read this though, thanks! And sorry if i spelled things wrong, I'm writing this on a Swedish computer that insists that every single word is spelled incorrectly, lol.

#winx club #winx #winx club analysis #winx analysis

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sinisterexaggerator · 17 days

Text

Stars Above! | Cad Bane

Chapter 14

Explicit: Semi-slow burn, gratuitous smut /pwp, canon-typical violence, mildly dubious consent, angst, Tatooine Slave Culture.

This chapter: Flashbacks / nightmares, whump, mild-medical procedure involving a needle/dispenser and sedatives.

Word count: 5.3k+

Notes: It only took me TWO YEARS TO UPDATE. SORRY ABOUT THAT. I promise that I will try to update more regularly from now on.

[ Ao3 ] - [ Masterpost ]

《 Previous chapter ||

“Supposin’ us bein’ partners don’ mean nothin’,” Bane flippantly offered. Though feeling despondent, he masked it well. The two men were a lot alike in that respect; Bane hardly knew what went on inside the Mando’s over-complicated mind.

“You’ve learned everything there is to know, Cad. And what you don’t know, you don’t want to learn, even if given the opportunity.”

“What’s dhat even mean,” the Duros asked bitingly, throwing down the butt of his cigarra on the cold, hard ground. The two began to make their way, Jango sighing under the beskar helmet that hid his face, Bane trudging along behind, albeit slowly; he was freezing.

Vandor was an icy planet, located in the Sloo Sector of the Mid Rim, currently home to a target that had made his home in Fort Ypso, a snowy village that lay sequestered in the foothills of the Iridium mountains, only crossable by bridge. The wooden planks groaned under their feet as the pair of hunters ventured onward, Slave I left beyond its borders so as not to attract attention and give the game away.

“It means you are stubborn,” Fett returned, his voice carrying over the blistering wind. “Perhaps it is time for you to branch out on your own; be your own man. I am beginning to think I cramp your style.”

The Duros sneered, offended in more ways than one, fangs chattering even though he wore specialized gear meant to curtail the cold from leeching through to his very bones. “Says de man who don’ know when te turn down a job; if Ah had nips, dhey’d already be frozen off.”

“You didn’t have to come with me,” Jango informed him, his joke lost on the dour man. He wasn’t in the mood for Bane’s attitude, much less his complaints.

“As fer style, Ah got plenty, naht countin’ dhis ridiculous ‘fit ye’ made me wear.”

Bane frowned despite himself, feeling each minor movement of his facial muscles; they were stiff from the frigid temperature, the younger man desiring to find a place of warmth. At least his body glove was able to retain some heat, otherwise he was sure to succumb to this positively ridiculous weather within mere minutes, seconds.

“Fine; maybe Ah should leave ye te it dhen; wait in de ship, if yer so keen on gettin’ rid of me.”

Then, his sour expression deepened, Bane’s footfalls ceasing as he came to a full stop. “It’s ‘cause Ah don’ agree with ye, ain’t it.”

“It’s not your life, nor your decision,” the Mandalorian shot back without delay, unable to hide his bitterness. “I know what I want, even if you don’t.”

Bane braced himself, realizing this was about to become more personal than he had bargained for, Fett having never bothered to explain his motives. All Bane knew was he had won some contest, proving he was the best bounty hunter in all the galaxy—a title he assumed might one day rightfully be his.

Fett had trained him, after all. More than that; he had become his friend, his confidant. Bane might go so far as to think he even loved the man, though never voicing those sentiments out loud; he buried them, like everything else he felt.

Perhaps it was fear that kept him quiet. Fear, or maybe anxiety. They both lived in the same place—inside his chest. The chest that currently housed a heart beating furiously behind a wall of ribs, even as Bane reached out to touched Fett’s shoulder.

What he couldn’t understand was why he needed a million of himself; Jango would be tasked to train an army for an unknown benefactor, an army of clones.

The idea sent shivers down Bane’s scales. He understood there were credits to be made, and lots of them. But even so, this was a line Bane himself would never cross—playing God by ignoring ethics, by ignoring quandaries he thought might only come about in science labs. Not in the field; not in the relatively short life of a bounty hunter.

“Ah know what Ah want,” he muttered softly, “de one of ye.”

The Mando whisked around, batting his companion’s hand away. He could not see his face, but Fett’s annoyance easily radiated out beyond his suit of armor. He thought Bane would never understand his hatred for the Jedi; the duty he had assigned himself that consumed half his personality. “Come off it.”

Bane hesitated. The sky began to darken; he thought he had been to this place before.

“You’re a fool,”Fett’s voice, a low baritone, seeped into Bane’s ears, in turn causing the Duros to tremble. It was not out of the coldness of the weather, but the coldness of his words, that Bane’s body involuntarily shuddered, wide, red eyes blinking away flecks of snowflakes as they floated toward the ground; they were gossamer, each one intricate by its own design.

“But Fett-”

“Shut up,” the Mando cut him off. Something wasn’t right. Bane gazed around himself, even as Fett continued. “You really think I care about what you think?”

Bane stared at him, a wounded look taking over his already glum face. Even so, he thought to follow-up, wondering if he had said these words before. “Just dhat-”

Flames were birthed from blankets of white snow, shooting up as pillars of an all-consuming heat, Bane taking a step back as he watched the fire cast a shadow on Jango’s beskar helmet. Those little flecks, those tiny snowflakes, were now tendrils of hot ash, the icy ground nearby the bridge they stood on a carpet of dirt and soot.

“Ja-Jango?” Bane stuttered out; the man approached, deliberate, even as his voice rose in his anger.

“You are nothing to me, Cad. You are nothing.”

The fire blazed more luminous than a main-sequence star; the heavens were black as pitch and no sun shone; Bane heard another sound, this one the creak of weakening ropes as the Duros realized the bridge they stood upon was near to collapse. It was old, rickety, and the only way into town.

“You are not my friend, and you will never be my family,” Fett assured, his vehemence laced with mockery. The Mando laughed, dry, and borderline sadistic; it was out of character for him. Bane grimaced.

“Fett, we gotta go back!” Bane ignored his hurtful remarks, noticing the bridge was starting to sink and give beneath their weight and the onslaught of the flames. The youth would peer over the side, eyes set to broaden as he realized the mountain valley was now nothing but a pit of hellfire.

“You are weak; pathetic; worthless-”

“-stop it!”

“-just a frightened little boy.”

“Enough!” the Duros shouted; he could hear the panic in his voice. He cursed himself, wanting to be brave; wanting to prove to Fett that everything he said was erroneous, inaccurate – but he was right; Bane was frightened.

Suddenly, Bane had nothing below his feet, just a gaping hole and a river of bright flames. Fett was hovering; he had activated the thrusters of his jetpack; Bane aimed to do the same, pressing a button on his wrist gauntlet, except his boots wouldn’t fire; they sputtered and died out.

He kept on falling.

“Jango!” He heard his voice crack, Bane reaching out and up toward the Mando. The man only laughed that wry, cruel laugh, even as Bane fell to what he knew would be his death.

With hands grasping, arms flailing, and legs kicking erratically, Bane yelled one last time as his body was engulfed, swallowed by the void.

“Ah’m sorry!”

---

“Oh, no!” Todo 360 articulated. “I was afraid this might happen!” the droid verbalized in a mild state of panic. He began zooming around the room, peeking into cabinets and pulling out various tools, utensils, and medical implements. It appeared to Zulara that he might be looking for something in particular, so hurried were his movements in his haste.

“Can I help?” she asked quietly, though eager, not sure what was even wrong or what it was she would be looking for. The girl had been seated on the floor, tinkering with one of Bane’s fancy vambraces; it was sparking.

The girl glanced to the bacta pod where Cad Bane slumbered, but something was amiss; his eyelids twitched. She stood, then approached with caution, peering down into the coffin-like contrivance – that’s when she noticed.

The Duros trembled, the muscles of his face distorting into what looked like fear, then pain. His head shifted back and forth from side to side, though not awake. Zulara’s heart ached for the man.

“What’s wrong with him?” she asked, turning to stare at the frantic Todo. He was too busy in his search to hear her, muttering his many grievances and even a few expletives.

“Todo?” she asked again, the concern apparent in her voice. She stepped forward toward the little droid, tapping him gently on his tiny shoulder.

Todo whirled on her, having forgotten momentarily that she was even aboard the ship, Zulara noting she had startled him by the widening of his citrine eyes.

“Do not do that!” he proclaimed, immediately taking back up the search. Zulara’s lower lip quivered as she turned on her heel, refacing the injured man; he at least seemed calmer now, which Zulara pointed out.

“He’s stopped moving,” she whispered.

Todo zipped on by, a cool rush of air tickling her arm. He observed his master through the glass, a pane of two-inch thick transparisteel.

The droid sighed a human sigh, then rounded on his thrusters. He stared up at the girl, finally managing to find the time to give her a halfhearted story of some kind.

“When in the bacta pod, Bane’s subconscious is left totally unguarded! He is vulnerable to whatever it is his mind can conjure up, and I will have you know these things are not pleasant.”

“He had a nightmare,” Zulara stated, though the end of her phrase had a questioning lilt to it.

Todo nodded in assent, then added: “He has a lot of those, I am afraid.” He wondered if he should be telling all Bane’s secrets. Was this a secret? Nightmares were common among organics. He was unsure.

Zulara frowned at him, then looked down at her boots. She often had nightmares herself, a reoccurring one; the one where she was stripped from her mother’s arms by her drunken father; the one where she was ushered off like chattel into a life of slavery.

Her gaze returned to Todo once she had repressed that bit of sordid memory. “Will he be all right?” she questioned anxiously.

“You are humorous, human. Mister Bane has endured much worse. But I must find this pneumatic dispenser! It holds a sedative we may need; it is only a precaution.”

“You are going to sedate him?” Zulara asked, perplexed.

“Well, it is better than what Bane would do!” Todo scolded, continuing his rummaging. “I, for one, do not wish to suppress my memories, but in all likelihood Bane will hurt himself in this state, and he is already wounded.”

Zulara seemed confused. “What do you mean?”

Todo was becoming irritated. If this woman was not present, he could work in peace! Just who did Boba think he was, leaving her with him! Granted, she seemed to care about his master, but she was still a nuisance! Perhaps the droid was now beginning to understand why Bane called him that on limitless occasions - and when he meant well.

He started to have a change of heart, though his metal shell was empty besides his circuitry; his own thought process set him straight. Todo simply sighed again, though trying to be patient. “Mister Bane seems to think that libations will solve his problems. Why, ever since Boba Fett shot him in the head, he has never been the same!”

Zulara’s frown remained fixated, though deepening. She had heard this mentioned once before as they had dragged Bane inside his ship. Why would the man that had helped to rescue him want him dead instead? It made no sense. She thought to ask, but wondered if the droid would answer her.

Todo seemed two things: high-strung and untrusting, though Zulara’s interest was not self-serving, she was only curious. It was hard not to want to learn all she could about the Duros, his history, and those things that made him tick.

“What happened?” she finally managed, fingers trailing a path down the outside of the convex, transparent glass. “Boba would not tell me how he knew Bane,” she added, studying the curves and angles of the hunter’s face despite the mask he wore that fed him oxygen.

“Because then Boba would be admitting to attempted murder!” the incensed droid piped up, rounding on her. He was flustered by the question, and even more so aggravated by the answer he was about to give. Young Fett was a traitor and a deserter in his opinion; a fly-by-night, disreputable scoundrel to say the very least!

“When one commits to a job, or when one is given a home and specialized training - for free might I add – with only the expectancy of loyalty, and then for that person to defect, to try Mister Bane’s patience after all he did for him!”

Todo scoffed, turning back around. He opened up a lower cabinet, somehow sticking his large head inside, so his words were muffled. “To question his authority is one thing, but to shoot him?!” Todo’s voice was elevated, despite being dampened within the cupboard he was scouring. “Simply because you do not agree with his methods!?”

Zulara watched Todo’s metal chassis shift back and forth as his upper half continued with its plundering, tossing things haphazardly behind him. The girl would lift one leg, dodging something sharp that vibrated—a sonic scalpel? What did Cad Bane need that for?

Zulara bent down to pick it up; she switched it off. Her eyebrows furrowed as she thought about the head plate Bane always sported. “So, then Boba betrayed him? He shot him at point-blank range?”

Her thoughts drifted to the man whose comlink was in her pocket. The youthful face, the curly hair, the deep brown eyes – so soft and rich – she could not imagine him to be a killer, yet he was another bounty hunter. A bounty hunter like the Duros she had feelings for, the one who left her, the one who desired her dead for the sand she had thrown into his stark garnet eyes.

“Well, no,” Todo admitted. He had been there, after all, observing it all unfold. “There was a duel. It was a tie-” the little droid emerged to swivel toward her once again, “-but Boba cheated! A Mandalorian’s helmet is made of beskar! And while Boba is no Mandalorian, his -er- father was.”

Todo 360 made an irritated harumph. “A solitary clone should have been grateful to have Mister Bane mentor him! I know I would be. Of course, he did owe Jango many favors, or so Mister Bane has said…”

His voice trailed off; Zulara realized something. It was no matter that this droid was comprised of ones and zeros, or its many servos. Something clicked inside her brain—Todo had no bolt, no way in which he was restrained. He loved his master, and to some extent, Cad Bane must love him.

She could only imagine this Fett harbored some kind of guilt, as well he should. If she ever saw him, if he ever commed her…yet it was not her business.

Zulara refocused her attention, “a pneumatic dispenser, no?” Her inquiry was soft, calming. Todo perceptibly unwound, as the organic’s voice was somehow soothing.

He was not used to women hanging around; he had only known those that Bane kept on retainer for one reason or another, namely Aurra Sing; she had not one gentle bone in her whole body. In fact, he might blame her for the way young Boba had turned out. While Mister Bane had a hand in it, it was not until he had been abandoned and thrown in prison thanks to the Palliduvan that his master had offered Fett his guidance.

“Yes,” the exhausted droid replied, returning to his work. He kept one eye on her, but he was thankful for the girl’s assistance, however wary. One could never be too careful.

---

“Boba?” Bane had heard the name, floating out in empty space, inside his mind, or spoken by a God. It lingered, the two syllables leeching their way into his cerebral cortex, even as pure darkness surrounded him, enveloping his cold flesh like a thickset, heavy blanket of unease.

His stomach lurched; he felt like throwing up. Instead, he sat upright and was faced with a nearly obscene brightness. Someone had unveiled the stars, but one shown more luminous than all the others; the one that warmed the desert planet he was now stationed on.

“Bane!”

The Duros’ eyes rolled to his left, spying within his hand a bottle of dark liquor, Bane ascertaining this might be the reason for his sickness; the empty feeling that tarried in his guts. But still, nothing was making sense.

Bane dropped the bottle, glancing up. Some distance away was a teenaged Boba Fett.

How many times would the kid shout his name in anger? How many times would he have to remember his father’s face when looking into his? That armor, that helmet – all a cruel reminder.

“You should have been there.” That’s what the boy had said that fateful day.

Bane stood, gazing out. He was supposed to say something, words that had been repeated time and time again. The outcome would never be any different, he suspected, but the hunter was caught in a web of his own delusions. Maybe this time he could make it right; maybe this time Bane would not lose his self-respect or his dignity to a fourteen-year-old brat.

“Ah wouldn’ be so-” Bane’s voice dropped; he said the rest quietly and to himself, “-hasty now, boy…”

No. This wasn’t at all accurate. This had happened once before. Bane studied his surroundings, noting the placement of the buildings, a fire that burned in the distance, wisps of dark-colored smoke emanating in tight curls.

Fire.

There was a fire.

He had fallen.

Boba turned his head; Bane followed his lead, spying C-21 Highsinger and his faithful droid companion. Held prisoner in their grasp was a white-haired old man. The child - Fett’s offspring - demanded that he be released along with all the other hostages.

What hostages.

“Let them go, Bane.”

What had he done? He could not remember, the Duros craning his hat and head to stare down at both of his blue hands.

“This isn’t their fight anymore.”

Bane knit his brow in thought, his gaze returning to the boy. He took a new approach, or at least he thought. He was unsure, second-guessing, caught in a place that resembled reality, yet Bane was positive none of this was real.

“Yer daddy ain’t here, boy. Ah knowit. But ye gonna go ‘head an’ bite de hand dhat feeds?”

Bane took two steps forward, somehow knowing what came next. He had always wondered if there was some other way than this, something he could have done to change Fett’s mind. But in the end, he had it out for him; it was a part of history that could never be rewritten. Boba had got it in his head that Cad Bane was his enemy, and the sole executioner of the people here, as if he was the only one who was unscrupulous among those present.

“Yer gonna wind up poor, or dead, out on yer own – dhis galaxy is harsh. Ye think Jango was perfect? Ye think he wouldn’ do whateva’ it takes te get de job done?”

“Shut up! I am not my father!” Boba scolded beneath his helmet; Bane ground his teeth as he glared at him, his expression full of venom. Always such an impudent, brazen child. He hated Jango then – all of them – and his clone army; his poor decision.

“No more innocent people are going to die, or be locked up, or live in fear,” Fett reiterated, brandishing a finger. It was ironic, all this talk, when Boba Fett was supposed to be a bounty hunter.

“Did ye ferget what profession ye’s in? We’re hunters, Boba. Unless ye ain’t one. Maybe yer just soft.”

A poor choice of words, considering the circumstances. Bane was sure he had only made things worse. He did not have the time to contemplate anything beyond that, for Bossk and Embo had arrived.

At least they were fairly trustworthy, the Kyuzo only second to Bane himself. Bossk knew how to take directions, even though he had connections, strong ones, to the Guild. Bane had thought, incorrectly, that they might back him up and take his side, but the blood that ran through Boba’s veins was a testament to his skill and to his mounting leadership, despite his age and stature.

Bane smiled a crooked smile. “Looks like yer lil’ insurrection has failed.”

Boba looked behind himself and to the others; Bane’s smile faltered. He glanced around as the thin shroud separating this world from the next shimmered and disjoined. He saw stars; realspace; a depthless abyss of nothing, like a curtain had been pulled back to reveal the stage, and he was the main character.

“I say we give the kid his shot,” he heard the Trandoshan rasp.

Bane dug his boots into the sandy earth. There was a suction pulling him, like a vacuum, toward a gaping hole that now stretched so wide the entire town was gone. The only thing that remained were the other hunters; Bossk and Embo had stood down, and Boba was rounding on him.

Bane realized they did not seem to be affected; it was like none of this was happening. He knew what he was supposed to say, as if only reciting his own name.

“So, dhat’s it – just ye and me dhen, Boba Fett.”

“I guess it is,”the boy would reply.

Their eyes met, or at least he thought they did. That damned bucket was in the way, Bane mentally cursing its utility – it’s why he hated them – it was a place to hide.

And kark the others; their loyalty was forfeit, Bane reminded of a most important lesson: he was alone, and he always had been. Always would be, save his droid for company.

A sharp wind picked up, yet Bane’s hat did not fly off—not yet. He fought with all his might against an invisible adversary, even as his fingers danced above one LL-30 BlasTech pistol. If he could only be a fraction faster, if he could only put this disgruntled adolescent in his rightful place, his anger, his heartache, his headaches—they all might vanish.

His quick draw was the cause of his notoriety. To be outdone - to lose to a snot-nosed kid - it would be an embarrassment, though highly understated. The only thing he had left to him was his reputation, and Fett was out to steal it from him, albeit fair and square. He couldn’t – wouldn’t – let that happen.

Bane pulled his weapon; he squeezed the trigger. Simultaneously, another shot was fired. Superheated plasma - imbued with an explosive quality - transferred kinetic and thermal force to the armor plating that lined his signature bolero.

It was not enough to stay the bolt; he felt a searing pain on the left side of his head, radiating across his brow and the upper part of his domed skull. He fell back flat, staring up at a now starless, barren sky. He was out of breath, and he thought this is where he ought to die.

Bane would close his eyes, legs stretched out and arms taut at his sides. He had no idea the outcome; that it had been a tie; that Boba Fett had saved himself from his demise by wearing that accursed beskar, yet the young hunter’s aim had not betrayed him.

“Mister Bane!” he would hear his droid call aloud in a worried tone. He had repeated it three times now, though the Duros found he could not move. The only thing he could perceive in this state was a scathing ache; an excruciating, endless throbbing, right where the bolt made contact with his hat and ricocheted.

The plasma had been so hot, so volatile, it had dissolved his scales clean off and scorched him to the bone—the durasteel panel had dented inward before his hat rebounded off his head and fluttered to the ground, molten metal boring easily through flesh and osseous tissue, slowed only partially.

Tears welled behind shut eyelids, as in that moment, he wished the boy had killed him.

---

Zulara, hours later, had traversed Mos Eisley’s streets. She had been looking for something, something good to eat. While she was not hungry, she imagined Bane would be the moment he awoke. The girl had not strayed far in her search for the right ingredients.

She aimed to concoct a Twi’lek dish, though she would modify it. Her palette did not enjoy the fungi that accompanied the rycrit meat. She would add carrots and potatoes, along with various other root vegetables, to cook a hearty stew, a thing to keep Bane’s strength up and paid for with her own meager credits.

Todo had confirmed there was nothing much edible aboard Bane’s ship; she had found out shortly that its name was the Justifier; curious, though she would not mention it. Once they had found the lost dispenser, Zulara made it her new objective to prepare a home-cooked meal for the healing Duros. Perhaps he would be appreciative and would not mind that she was here, doing her best to look out for him.

To think, she could still be napping in Ohnaka’s arms if Fett had not sounded the alarm. It was something more complicated than a mere regret; she did not feel that way. In fact, it pleased her. It had scratched an itch Cad Bane had left behind. Still, she had been hurt, a stupid thing, as the youth had asked how long she had known this man; her answer proved unsatisfactory, even to herself.

Why? Why care? As if his attempt to free her was not enough, though Bane had made her feel things she had never felt before. Maybe Zulara has naïve, a woman with no sense, but what sense could she have considering her circumstances? Some might call it a learning curve, though that did not mean she was not harboring intelligence. In this case, she was thinking with her heart and not her head, but she could not help it; all she cared for was Bane’s good health.

Zulara absentmindedly stirred a pot; it was something she had located in a cabinet by the conservator. It barely appeared used; she wondered if Bane ever liked to cook, or if his starship had come equipped with those things he needed, whether utilized or not.

Once the rycrit stew was at a simmer, she lowered its heat setting and placed a lid on top of it. With this accomplished, she thought to find Todo and pose another question: where was there a workroom, a space with tools? She had it in her mind to fix Bane’s gauntlet, wanting to feel useful.

Now, just where had that droid gone off to?

---

Glowing embers of crimson red bothered to open up again as Cad’s body began to move of its own volition.

No – it was the wind, that suction. It had gained momentum; it was stronger, rolling him like a tumbleweed toward the open maw of nothing!

The hat went first, vanishing beyond the veil. Bane grimaced as he dug his fingers into the pliant earth. There was no stopping it, head pounding as his legs thrashed violently. He was like a fish out of water, surrounded by only grit and sand. Death, once more, seemed imminent.

The Duros panicked.

---

Zulara heard a crash, like something falling. She rushed back to where Bane rested, Todo’s mental state in a disarray as he had dropped something. Her eyes traveled toward the pod; Bane was seizing. The girl would gasp as she ran for the tank at lightspeed.

It wasn’t that the droid was clumsy, he had simply moved too quickly. Seeing his master at the mercy of his nightmares had drawn out all his worry; it must have been preprogrammed, but by who was an unsolved mystery—unless it was Vertseth Automata. Surely, Bane would have preferred a model with more strengths than weaknesses, but he had his purpose. Currently, it was to act as nurse, though he was not one; he had been built for techo-service.

By the time Todo arrived, Zulara had already pried open the bacta pod. Bane was coughing, sputtering, even while unconscious. The girl tried lifting him, cupping his upper back as he broached the surface; the sticky gel still held him, her face strained with the effort, though Zulara kept him aloft, fighting the weakness of her arms—Bane was too heavy for her alone.

“Todo, do something!” she pleaded, though she needn’t ask. The droid had readied the dispenser that housed the sedative mid-dash.

“I am sorry, Bane, but this will only hurt a moment!” he said in warning, still somehow afraid of incurring his master’s wrath, no matter that he was incapacitated. He aligned the needle and pressed with all his might; the medicine was injected directly into the site; it would disperse and travel throughout his bloodstream, suppressing his dark memories to the best of its ability.

Todo sighed, dropping his hand and arm. He let the empty dispenser fall onto the floor. Bane had noticeably relaxed; his breathing evened out. Zulara finally felt convinced enough to lie him back down within the healing gel.

“Is-is that it? Will he settle now?” the girl asked fretfully, adjusting Bane’s breathing mask for him; it had become somewhat crooked.

“I do believe so, yes,” Todo stated, though his confidence was shaken. He backed up a foot to let her work, watching how Zulara tended to his master carefully.

It was then Todo wobbled on his axis, believing himself to be tuckered out. For a droid to feel this way was like when organics suffered from lack of sleep. He could not remember the last time he had plugged in, knowing that his power supply was finally dwindling. “I do not feel so good,” he reluctantly admitted.

“What?” Zulara appeared alarmed, turning now upon the droid. He placed his feet down on the ground - too much time spent hovering was another drain on his internal generator – knowing he had only a few minutes left.

“It is not..hi..ng…to worry a..bo..ut,” Todo’s speech came out garbled and slowed down, “I am in need of a re..ch..ar..ge…There is a sta..tion…do..wn the ha.ll.”

Bane’s companion’s eyes flickered, like two glowing yellow fireflies, flashing her at intervals. What would she do without him? What if Bane woke up again? She ran to his aid as he began a make his way, albeit awkwardly.

“You can’t leave me! What if the tank malfunctions, or what if Bane has another nightmare!” Zulara begged of him.

“Bane will most likely be remain un..con..scious for se..veral hours n..ow,” he tried to reassure, his tiny, robotic hands trailing the wall to his right side; his eyesight was no longer reliable, and he had to feel for it: the door that would lead him to his charging bay where he would gladly sit and wait to be replenished. “Do not wor..ry, he is safe. You can always ca..ll… Bo…ba.” He could not believe he was saying this.

“Are you sure? But I don’t want to call him!” Zulara argued, watching as Todo ambulated toward another room. It was the place with all their tools, the one she had been searching for. Todo had nearly made it to his recharge station when he stopped dead.

“Todo?” Zulara whimpered.

There was no response; he had lost all power.

#Cad Bane #Cad Bane x OC #Cad Bane x Original Characters #Star Wars #Bad Batch #Clone Wars #TCW #BOBF #Book of Boba Fett #Star Wars OC #Twi'lek species #Todo 360 #Boba Fett #Jango Fett #Flashbacks #Nightmares #Lost Bounty Hunter Arc

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