#sonic wake up you fucked up big time
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i love how in sonic prime, shadow sounded kinda like he was asking for help whenever he called out to sonic. but then when sonic shows up, shadows just like "alright finally now i can kick your fucking ass."
#sonic wake up you fucked up big time#SHADOWS SO PISSED HES LIKE DUDE WHAT THE FUCK YOU JUST DESTROYED THE WHOLE WORLD !!!!#AND HE DOESNT EVEN GET TO HAVE HIS BAT GIRLFRIEND THERE TO SUPPORT HIM 😭#AND ALL VERSIONS OF ROUGE IS ALSO JUST NOT THE ROUGE HE KNOWS. NONE OF THEM KNOW HIM !!!#IMAGINE HOW DEVASTATING THAT MUST BE FOR HIM IF/WHEN HE ENCOUNTERS ONE OF THE SHATTERSPACE ROUGES#HIS OWN PARTNER. NOT KNOWING HIM.#also it makes me so sad that shadow and rouge havent even interacted at all during prime 😭#there better be some good interactions between them later or im gonna riot#shadow the hedgehog#sonic the hedgehog#shadow#sonic#sonic prime#sth#sonic prime spoilers
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i'm gonna make an animatic about this
#that's a lie the animatic im thinking of isn't quite that. and im not gonna make it like NOW now#i dont remember if i posted this here or not soo. ya#ravenous_luminaries#sonic wake up you fucked up big time#sonic wake up#meme#briars_ocs#my_ocs#original character#original character meme
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my brain thinks things
#sonic the hedgehog#wake up you fucked up big time#this one pannel of tails gets trolled always sends me#sth#manic the hedgehog#sth manic#manic#manic sonic underground#sonic underground#sonic shitpost#things i think are funny at 3am
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SONIC PRIME SPOILERS UNDER THE CUT!!
so just a small theory of what happened to amy, knuckles, rouge, tails and the rest.
personally i think that they all got split up through out the shatterverse and they just. aren’t themselves anymore at least at the moment. they’re all these different versions of themselves like rusty rose, nine, rebel, etc. and i think sonic and shadow are going to have to collect the main 5 paradox prisms to restore their friends and the universe they’re from! but this is all just speculation but i think honestly its the most likely option and it’d be cool to see them being pissed at eachother but working together to save their friends.
#sonic prime#sonic prime spoilers#WAKE UP SONIC YOU FUCKED UP BIG TIME!!!#rusty rose#sonic#amy rose#tails prime#amy prime#rouge prime#shadow prime#knuckles prime
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My Favorite Games of 2023.
Hi. Hello. Thanks ever so much for clicking on this page. Happy to have you.
First thing's first: I'm a little freak when it comes to video games. I don't feel the need to beat most games I play. From Software is one of my favorite studios in the industry and I've never finished a single one of their games. This means, fortunately, that I get to play a LOT more games than the average bear.
I've written up some blurbs about my top ten favorite games from 2023, but before that here's the list of every game I remember playing this year that left any sort of lasting impact on me (in no particular order):
Dead Space Remake
Resident Evil 4 Remake
F-Zero 99
Humanity
Dredge
Metroid Prime Remastered
Anemoiaplois
Alan Wake 2
Baldur’s Gate 3
LoZ Tears of the Kingdom
Counter Strike 2
Hunt Showdown
El Paso Elsewhere
Jusant
Slay the Princess|
Remnant II
The Finals
Street FIghter 6
Lethal Company
BattleBit Remastered
Don’t Scream
Homebody
The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog
Pizza Tower
World of Horror
Super Mario Wonder
Mr. Sun’s Hatbox
Fifa 23
Sea of Stars (Demo)
Half-Life (25th Anniversary Update)
And the games I played that were NOT released in 2023:
Unpacking
Persona 4 Golden
Picross 7
The Order 1886
Shovel Knight Dig
Lost Planet: Extreme Condition
Spider-Man: Miles Morales
Pac-Man Championship Edition DX
Project Zomboid
Quake
LoZ The Minish Cap
Drill Dozer
Wario Land 4
Pokemon Pinball
Resident Evil Revelations
Summer of ‘58
Trackmania
TwinCop
We Were Here
Visage
Cursed Halo CE
Half-Life 2 (I probably play this once per year)
Witch Hunt
Red Dead Redemption 2
Cyberpunk 2077
Borderlands 3
Brutal Legend
Cultic
Slay the Spire
PUBG
Rez Infinite
Batman Arkham City
Alan Wake
Alan Wake: American Nightmare
Max Payne
LoZ: Majora’s Mask 3DS
Metroid Prime
Metroid Prime 2
Tunic
Everhood
Final Fantasy VII
Final Fantasy VII Remake
GOODBYE WORLD
Yakuza: Like a Dragon
Critters for Sale
Dome Keeper
Phasmophobia
Hades
Nintendo Switch Sports
Now that you understand the kind of freak you're dealing with…
Let's dive into my top ten favorite games from this objectively fucked up year.
10. El Paso Elsewhere
Developed by Texas indie studio Strange Scaffold, El Paso Elsewhere is a Max Payne-clone with vampires, an opinionated narrator, and lots and lots of bullet time. As a small studio punching well above their weight class, Strange Scaffold leans into abstract, PlayStation 1 minimalism when it comes to visuals and pairs them with a soundtrack that will make your hands sweat. The vibes are here and they're ready for the end of the world. I'm personally also a big fan of everything this studio stands for.
9. Mr. Sun's Hatbox
I want you to imagine Metal Gear Solid V. Now I want you to imagine that game as a 2D, level-based, slapstick platformer you can play with up to three friends. If you think that sounds stupid, you'd be right. And it's beautiful. As you build up a secret army of soldiers with various skills (and disorders), you'll start to develop *favorites*. This game constantly asks if you're willing to send those favorites on a harrowing mission and risk losing them forever… or if you'd rather send an idiot you recently captured who blinks constantly and can't kill anyone without fainting.
8. Dredge
Every year I feel like I find one game that falls into the “just one more round” category, and baby… Dredge was it for 2023. As a weary fisherman in strange waters, you'll make the most out of your 12 measly hours of sunlight only for your daily voyages to inevitably pull you into the darkness of night, and night is when things get weird. Rocks emerge from the fog that you swear weren't there before, your equipment malfunctions, and you're pretty sure you just saw something in the water… something big. Despite only containing a small collection of islands, the world of Dredge manages to feel vast - perhaps vast enough to swallow you whole.
7. Resident Evil 4 Remake
I was curious to see what sort of changes would be made to the timeless classic and father of modern 3rd person shooters, Resident Evil 4. I wasn't let down. RE4 Remake takes all the things that didn't age well about the original, tossed them out, and replaced them with only good things. And MORE things! It's campy, fun, and better than a game of bingo.
6. Jusant
I really feel like this one didn't get the recognition it deserves. Jusant is a rock climbing game that combines the quiet contemplation of Journey with the mechanical specificity of Death Stranding. Unlike Death Standing, though, there is very little story to interrupt your flow. There are plenty of collectible bits to find for those curious to learn more about what happened before the events of the game, but the environmental storytelling does most of the heavy lifting. For me, the joy of the game comes from how it feels. Right trigger controls your right hand grip, and left trigger controls left hand grip. Plan your route, manage your stamina, and climb high above the clouds in search of answers.
5. F-Zero 99
This. Shit. Slaps. I've never been a big F-Zero guy, but this MADE me one. The “battle royale”, 99 player format is the perfect fit for the ruthless, high octane world of the game. Races last about three minutes, and friend, they are the most intense, white-knuckled three minutes of your life. The decision to make your boost meter the same as your health meter started in F-Zero 64 (I believe), and it is so much more HARROWING in this game when another player could side-swipe you mere meters from the finish line and blow you to bits. Sadly it's only playable via Switch Online, but it made me cheer, laugh, and scream enough this year to earn a spot in my top 5.
4. Alan Wake 2
Remedy makes weird games that also manage to exist in the AAA space and for that I will forever love them. Although Alan Wake 2 resembles a 3rd person shooter survival horror, I'd honestly say it's more of a narrative game than anything else. There's sidequests, there's puzzles, there's upgradeable skills, but at the end of the day the characters, world, and story are what kept me playing. If you haven't checked them out recently, you should definitely watch a story recap of the original games before diving into this sequel, but the wild swings for the fences this game takes are well worth that small price of admission. There's a god damn musical number, for Christ's sake.
3. The Legend of Zelda: Tears of the Kingdom
I've really got nothing to say about this game that most people don't already know. It's incredible. The fact that Nintendo made a game that redefined an entire genre and then made a SEQUEL to it that ups the ante is remarkable. To be honest, I've only cleared the Rito, Zora, and Goron cities. I got a bit tired of exploring the depths and guiding Koroks to their friends, but I can't deny the sheer level of complexity and polish on display here. I saw someone on TikTok build a functioning Mecha Godzilla in this game. Good God. I've heard that the ending of this game is one of the best in the franchise, and if I'd seen it this year then it may have wound up higher on my list, but for the time being I'll continue picking up this masterpiece from time to time, chipping away at it until the day comes that I can finally smack the tits off thicc Ganondorf.
2. Half-Life (25th Anniversary Update)
I know I'm gonna get shit for this, but I don't care. This year was the 25th anniversary of Half-Life and Valve released an update that made playing it (and it's online Death Match) much more accessible. I threw it on my Steam Deck out of curiosity, expecting to play for 20 minutes. I could not put it down. It is unbelievable how modern this game still feels. I simply had so much fun sprinting through the corridors of Black Mesa with a dozen weapons strapped to my back, blasting aliens and military Spec-Op chumps as a 24(?!) year old theoretical physicist.
1. Baldur's Gate III
This game is fucked up, man. The sheer amount of writing in this game scares me. We can all talk about how BIG this game is, it deserves it, but the thing BG3 does better than any other role playing game I have ever experienced is actually encourage roleplaying. I've played through Act I four times now, with four different groups of friends, and it has felt fresh every time. I have seen the same events play out in so many different ways that it boggles the mind, but in every one of those play sessions I see players asking themselves “What would my lil guy do here?” rather than "what is the best thing to do here?" The game rewards players constantly for just trying shit and the D&D 5e rule set means playing like the character you said you were from the start leads to frequent Points of Inspiration. Maybe one day I'll see the end of this story (probably not), but I don't have to in order to feel a connection with BG3's world, characters, and most impressively, the characters I made myself.
Honorable Mentions for 2023
5. Dave the Diver
4. Homebody
3. Sea of Stars
2. Humanity
1. Super Mario Wonder
Top 5 Favorites NOT from 2023
5. Metroid Prime
4. Final Fantasy VII Remake
3. Cursed Halo (Halo CE Mod)
2. Red Dead Redemption 2
1. Legend of Zelda: Majora's Mask (3DS)
Games I didn't have a chance to play from 2023 but still want to when I find more time...
Viewfinder
Venba
Chants of Sennaar
Thirsty Suitors
Hi-Fi Rush
Moonring
Armored Core VI
Laika Aged Through Blood
Bomb Rush Cyberfunk
OKAY THANKS BYE!
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THROWING SOME SONIC HEADCANONS ON U
Sonic
-He always has a bruise or scratch on him somewhere even if he hasnt fought eggman in a few days. there. is. always. one.
-He's also COVERED in scars. Theyre either covered up by his fur/quills or theyve faded over the years.
-When sonic showers he uses a bottle that can be used for shower gel, shampoo, conditioner, moisturiser, mascara, ketchup, pepsi and a microwave.
-Sonic only really likes physical touch like hugging when he's seriously injured or in pain (example A. sonic prime and frontiers). Also he doesnt mind it when he's doing it to someone else.
-Sonic paces when he's worried, thinking or waiting for something. (Shadow does this too just less)
-Sonic fidgets in his sleep a LOT. He'll falls asleep on his back and wake up with his legs half off the bed and the duvet on the floor.
-Sonic cant cook so he gets tails to make him dinner (he knows how to make chilli dogs tho dw)
-Sonic used to hum tails to sleep when there was a storm
-This ties in with the one before it. SONIC IS A FANTASTIC SINGER. This man is angelic. Also no one can tell me Rouge can't sing coz she defo can.
-Sonic has a draw of all the stuff from his past adventures (chips bracelet, this upgrades from sa2, etc.)
-He smells like man deodorant (Lynx)
Shadow
-He takes notes on how to be a ''real mobian'' since he was brought up on the ARK he doesnt really know how to fit in so he'll stalk sonic and take in how he acts.
-Shadow and Rouge have ''girl nights'' where they stay up, do face masks, eat pizza and watch movies. Just a sleepover pretty much. (Omega is sometimes involved to)
-Shadow sleeps like a vampire
-Shadow and sonic spar often (3-4 days a week)
-And if sonic doesnt show up to the sparing session he'll go find him and make sure he's ok that they are still sparing
-His bedroom is lit up by lamps, no big light at all just lamps and the window.
-He's INSANELY good at cooking and baking. Gordon ramsey ahh hedgehog
-Can speak every language fluetly, this includes few ones that are dead (this is smt gerald gave him when he was in the 'creation' sage oin the ARK)
-He smells fucking fantastic 24/7. Lavendar, rlly nice perfume (probably Rouge's), deodarant, anything! This man smells great.
Knuckles
-He has a really low spice tolerance, one SPECK of spice and this dude is like sonic in tmosth.
-He gets bothered by Rouge trying to steal the master emerald at least once a week.
-Works out everyday, maxes out the machines and just goes at it like it's at the lowest setting.
-Sometimes he'll ask if sonic wants to spar for the fun of it if he's not on Angel island.
-FEMINIST! (He loves women)
-Denise he loves rouge but will just get flustered if she makes on single flirtation towards him.
-Has tubs of frosting and a spoon at nearly all times (WHAT IF HE GETS HUNGRY ITS A GOOD SNACK)
Tails
-Tails puts on cooking videos for background noise when he making/designing a new invention.
-Tails info dumps about planes and nerdy stuff to sonic and sonic just pretend s like he knows what tails is going on about because he knows it makes tails happy.
-Tails uses his tails for pillows sometimes.
-Getes his little hair ruffled by everyone (mainly sonic)
-Likes making gifts for people as a way to say thank you
Amy
-Amy plays dress up with cream.
-Herself and her room smells like roses/flowers in general.
-Loves watching mean girls with rouge.
-Doesnt look it but is STRONNGGGG. Your telling me that she would swing a punch and wouldnt send someone FLYING?? SHE CARRIES THAT MASSIVE HAMMER FOR VRYING OUT LOUD!!!
-Crystals.
Rouge
-LOVES to gossip
-Ayesha Erotica listener
-Does shadows makeup sometimes (Omega watches)
-Has a perfume collection that she lets shadow use to
-Has the most BEAUTIFUL dresses in her wardrobe for different occasions
-Loves to wear rings
there u go, have fun with those.
#sonic#sth#sonic the hedgehog#shadow the hedgehog#rouge the bat#knuckles#knuckles the echidna#tails#tails the fox#miles tails prower#sonic headcanon#sonic the hedgehog headcanons#headcanons#sth fandom#sonic fandom
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i still want to know how much knuckles is sonic 3 since shadow is the top priority and we still need to see tails snap
he's in here to do the "tails wake up you fucked up big time" and the rest of the time he's just got popcorn and watching sonic get his ass beat
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SONIC WAKE UP YOU FUCKED UP BIG TIME
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Voted “Most Likely To Beat You To Death With Her Bare Fists” because Robotnik really gave this raging, mollie-tossing Punchbunny cyborg limbs and she’s going to make it his problem ALL DAY LONG MOTHERFUCKER
Bunna-Marie ‘Bunnie’ Rabbot (Ra-beau to you, sugar!) is the epitome of Become Ungovernable, especially when she ran the streets with her gang and partner in crime Sonic in their teenage delinquent years, offlining as many droids as they could (they have a running tally, she’s caught up to him ever since she got her new limbs, he jokingly claims that’s cheating, she teasingly tells him to take a running fuck at a rolling donut).
At some point she grew to be Big Enough A Problem that Robotnik specifically had her caught and hauled in to be roboticized as punishment for “Inciting civil disorder” (and so he can turn her against her compatriots and kill them for kicks), and was rescued in the nick of time before the process damaged her organs (had it roboticized even half of her body , she wouldn’t have survive due to the traumatic incompatibility between flesh and metal systems).
However, the entire ordeal left her in a deep depressive state for months, and it’s not until this annoying-ass fancy-pants coyote starts talking about wanting to see the fire and spirit that Sonic always talked about when he brings her up, and building a physio-rehab set for her that she’s like “You know what? Yeah. I’ll show them, and I’ll show you too, pretty boy.”
(It’s not that I think ur cute or something b-baka)
As much as the cyborg limbs aid her in battle, there are times where she still suffers phantom limb issues, and extreme heat and cold conditions put her in the kind of pain that has her waking up at godless hours sobbing into her knees and hoping no one sees her like this (🎶WATCH AS SHE BUCKLES AND BENDS BUT NEVER BREAKS! NO MISTAKES!🎶)
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LOVEJOY: “WE ALWAYS LIKE TO BE CONSTANTLY PUSHING OURSELVES”
Lovejoy is in this article!
We speak to the Brighton quartet about their recent US tour, their career so far, and what it was like being involved in Spotify’s recent Our Generation pop-up.
Nowadays, it can feel like an increasingly rare sight to see an independent guitar band rise rapidly through the album charts; so when Lovejoy’s EP ‘Pebble Brain’ reached Number 12 in late 2021, it certainly caused a few ripples.
The Brighton quartet - who recently released their new EP ‘Wake Up & It’s Over’ - have had the luxury of an in-built fanbase from day one, thanks to the sizeable audience that frontman William Gold had been able to build through his own Twitch and YouTube channels, but as their music so far indicates, Lovejoy are more than worth their early success.
Charged by their Top 40 single ‘Call Me What You Like’, there’s an infectious, ebullient energy to their music, spearheaded by the soaring riffs of lead guitarist Joe Goldsmith and the rock-solid rhythm of Ash Kabosu’s bass and Mark Boardman’s drums.
As if to cement the hype, last month, the band released a Spotify Singles project that included a stripped back version of ‘Call Me What You Like’, alongside a cover of beabadoobee’s ‘The Perfect Pair’, and they also played a rare, intimate acoustic show as part of Spotify’s Our Generation pop-up event in London.
We caught up with the band halfway through a string of US dates that are the biggest shows of their career to date, to discuss their recent shifts in sound, making sense of their early success and the joys of playing such small shows.
You’re in the middle of a US tour, playing the biggest shows of your careers so far out there. How’s it been going?
Will Gold: It’s been really cool, and very different. It’s really nice to be going to different states that we’ve never seen before. I never thought I’d ever see Tennessee, and yet here I am, sat in Tennessee!
Ash Kabosu: In Dallas last night, we had, I think, the loudest crowd we’ve ever had. On the decibel counter on the sound-desk, it hit over 120. The previous record was Glasgow. It was crazy.
Will: 120 is what you get when you’re stood next to a jet engine.
Ash: It’s fine, when we go back to Glasgow, they’re just going to have to scream louder.
What is life on the road like with Lovejoy, what’s a normal day in the life?
Mark Boarman: It’s really fun, we’re having a fucking blast. Nashville was awesome, we went out on Broadway and we watched a bunch of country bands, they were all really fucking talented. And just the vibes were great, everyone was just singing and dancing and having a fun time. Nashville just loves music and it was really cool to see that, but then also to play there. It really felt like a bit of a proving ground for us. To be able to put on a show there and actually impress people, that’s amazing. The calibre of stuff that they’re used to is very high, so that felt like a crowning moment, for me at least.
Can you sense the difference in crowds between the UK and US?
Will: I feel like I’m performing more in front of American crowds, which isn’t a better or worse feeling, but it’s very different. In Europe, especially when we were in France, it felt like a big party that I was invited to, whilst here I definitely feel a bit more of a ‘being on stage’ kind of vibe.
As we speak, your EP is about to be released, and it’s the first one you’ve released in 18 months. Do you think listeners will be surprised by what they hear from the new stuff – do you feel the band has moved on sonically since 2021?
Ash: Yes, very much so. This is an entirely new era of music for us. I think we’re pulling from some slightly different influences; overall, it’s a bit heavier and a bit dirtier and grungier than what came before. And it feels like we’re kind of back on track. It’s a lot closer to our first EP in tone and style. It feels like ‘Pebble Brain’ was perhaps a bit of an experiment into a more summery, playful sound, whereas this is a lot more, not serious, but cooler. We’re cool now!
You mentioned new influences – who did you have in mind?
Ash: I’d say we’ve always been inspired by the likes of Arctic Monkeys, but I feel like we’re really wearing that inspiration on our sleeve for at least a few of these new songs. And also bands like The Strokes. Especially with Joe’s guitar riffs, we’re very heavily inspired by those bands.
If you think back to when you guys first formed this band, is this what you imagined it was going to be like?
Ash: I had no expectation at all! It’s far beyond anything that I thought would be possible.
Will: Exactly the same, we’ve been blown away by all the support. It feels humbling and it feels like we can’t owe it back to them enough for the support they’ve given us. At the same time, it’s validating for how much work we’ve put into our previous two records, to have this kind of support for the next one and to have all these people showing up. It’s really touching, all of our hard work is coming to fruition.
“The [Spotify Our Generation] gig opened our eyes a little bit to hopefully doing some more intimate shows in the future.”
— Ash Kabosu
One of the things that is particularly distinctive about Lovejoy is that you do have this huge and dedicated fanbase for the stage of career that you’re at. I guess that must also come with a certain level of pressure?
Ash: I guess that’s one of the reasons that it’s taken so long to get this next record out, we want it to be the best thing we can do.
Joe Goldsmith: We thrive on that kind of pressure. The desire to want to write songs for people that are fun and exciting is something that we like and enjoy. It pushes us, and hopefully we can make better songs as a result of that.
You’ve just released the Spotify Singles recently, and played a very intimate show for the Spotify Our Generation pop-up event. That’s a very artist-focused project, was that an enjoyable experience?
Ash: It was really cool to be given that opportunity. That gig was really nice. It opened our eyes a little bit to hopefully doing some more intimate shows in the future, maybe with acoustic setups. We’re obviously on this trajectory now of live shows where we’re slowly ramping up the size of the venues, but to play for maybe 70 or 100 people, it was really cool. We really, really enjoyed it. There will be more of those in the future.
What do you get from a crowd that size that you don’t get from a bigger one?
Ash: I think there’s a connection there. When you’re playing to a thousand people, there’s a certain level of detachment, it’s too many people for stupid monkey brain to process, and so it can be a bit overwhelming at times. But when there are fewer people in the room, you can actually make eye contact with them and engage with them on a much more personal level. You’re all singing the songs together and it’s just a lot tighter knit.
Are you constantly surprising yourselves? You’ve spoken about the shifts in sound over time and the growing live shows, do you feel like you’re still developing quite rapidly?
Will: I think art without experimentation is just formula. You’ve got to constantly experimenting and trying new things, or you start going a bit mad, or bland. We always like to be constantly pushing ourselves. Coming into the space with the audience almost already established – we dropped our first single and a lot of my previous audience moved across, and it was lovely of them to do so – I feel like we’ve almost done it backwards. Most bands have to write the good songs first, and then get the audience. We started with the audience first, and now we have to write good songs to prove ourselves.
Ash: It definitely is strange to be doing festival headline sets and playing on main stages when we’ve got twelve songs! We play our entire discography at every show.
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This is an odd one but Cisco as The Flash for AU headcanons?👀
I think I've read a fic with that premise (I know I have, I just. cannot recall Details like. title or writer.) So if I Plagiarize that fic by mistake please no one yell at me ok? ok.
1. now this IS partially from the fic I think, i'm already being a criminal, but like. it was still Nora Allen who died, not Ms Ramon (who I have named Pilar and no comics contradict me so!) and Eobard is very like. well shit, gotta adjust the Plans. on the one hand, can kill barry whenever, don't need him, but on the other hand what if I do? what if he also becomes the flash at the correct time for him, and this thing with Cisco doesn't work out and then I am stuck? bro's playing 5d chess against himself and it's not helping. so barry lives, for now, and Dante sits in an ugly plastic chair waiting for cisco to wake up.
2 I think for Cisco to get struck by the lightning it goes like this.
Ronnie and Cisco both go into the accelerator. Two of us can get the vents (or whatever Ronnie was doing faster than one.) and the thing is it almost works. it almost works. almost is never enough.
someone-- maybe hartley, in this au, maybe a distraught caitlin, closes the door at the 2 minute mark. all that energy goes up and out-- and the lightning bolt strikes into the heart of star labs along that same path. when the fema crews etc go shifting through, they find no sign of Ronnie--firestorm-- and Cisco, lightning scars branching down his body, comatose.
3. Cisco picks his name right off the bat. Barry starts writing about him-- and not very positively (barry had the blog in e1 and the writers forgot but I did not) because he what if that's the guy who killed my mom?? Joe, Joe /look/.
And Cisco is a little offended! goes to confront Barry (who tries and fails to hit him with the CCPD's second shittiest microscope) and goes hey, could you not?? first " the man in the lightning " is a damn mouthful, I'd rather something like, i dunno, Sonic Boom, or The Flash, and furthermore I was all of 8 years old when your mom died so uh stop it???
there is a very tense moment and then they're Friends Now.
Cisco doesn't understand why Wells is so deeply against having a CCPD liason??? we need one? this guy already believes in the impossible and also someone killed his mom and we can help! what do you mean no ??? ok fiiiiine.
4. Eddie, not Joe, is the one who sees Cisco fight Mardon. Eddie is more than happy to be the new liason to star labs, this is Great!!! he can use this to win over Iris and Barry! (he has big crushes on them both. potentially he gets over these crushes and he dates Cisco, I think that'd be fun.)
5. Cisco obviously does not build the cold gun, so Snart never actually manages to steal anything in central city, but he sure does try! it really does not work out for him. kidnapping an engineer to build you a weapon would be one thing if you could. you know. hold on to said engineer. Cisco Simply Dips.
5, right? fuck it one more for funsies
6. while cisco's in the coma Caitlin keeps a tv going with every episode of Star Trek queued up. constant background noise. Dr. Wells can't decide if he's learned his lesson about fucking with time or if he's so sick of the music he's going to go back even further the second he gets a chance and make them compose something else.
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You Were Marked: Day Twelve.
pairing: din djarin x fem!O/C
word count: 9.7 K
chapter summary: Din wakes from his concussion and runs into someone from his past.
warnings: angst for days, head injury, severe bodily injury, mention of blood, mention and aftermath of rape, mention and aftermath of object rape, physical abuse, violence towards women, torture, enmeshed misogyny, Mando'a and English cursing
***Please feel free to comment, kvetch, or otherwise speak your mind about my work. ***
You Were Marked: Masterlist
<- You Were Marked: Previous Chapter
Din’s eyes slowly opened to darkness. He was flat on his back on a hard floor. Well, this seems familiar. He blinked a couple of times and reached back to what he could most recently remember. He had made it to Boba’s palace with Marathel. She was in their hands now. Boba had dragged him back on the Crest instead of letting him go with her, for reasons he could not remember, or understand. He had then shouted at Grogu, and then … nothing.
Carefully touching his head, Din realized his helmet was back on … or was it still on? Did he take it off? He thought he had a memory of removing his helmet, because he remembered kissing Marathel — because I was sure I was close to losing her. And I still might.
Din’s head still hurt, but it was no longer the hellfire bitchkitty agony it had been the past few days. Boba must have injected him with bacta. He carefully and slowly rolled to his side, which wore him out more than he thought it should. He closed his eyes again and took a deep breath. All he could smell was disinfectant, which was a great improvement over the coppery smell of blood that had pervaded his nostrils recently, but not what he wished he could smell. He wanted to smell baking bread, herbs, flowers, salt air … Marathel’s hair and skin.
Marathel. Did she still live?
Din reached out to steady himself to sit up, and his fingers brushed one of his vambraces in the darkness. The tiny screen came to life, and Din tapped out a code by rote. The interior lights of the Crest came on. Sitting up, he found he was lying on an absorbent pad, much like the ones he used under the load pans. He listened for sounds that he was not alone on the ship, but all he could hear were the air circulators. The ramp door was closed, so Din carefully removed his helmet. He could see that the ship was no longer a blood-spattered wreck but was immaculately clean. Next to him were a bacta injection, a couple of bacta patches, and two scraps of folded paper. On one were the words read this first.
Din picked up the folded note and read:
Have your bounty payment
Peli has Grogu
Take a fucking shower
Boba
Din picked up the other note:
water recycler and coolant systems are working
Filled your water tanks
I agree with Boba
Peli
Din frowned. Why was he at Peli’s? Boba had a big enough hangar and enough lackeys to take care of his ship. Why would Boba expend the energy and take the time to move him and the ship away from the palace? From Marathel? He sighed. One thing at a time. And I agree with both of them; I need a fucking shower before I do anything else. He picked up the bacta injection and patches and carefully got to his feet, waiting to see if nausea would take over. Looking down at the pad he’d been lying on, he now saw the reason for it: he’d left a near-perfect silhouette of blood on it. He made his way to his sleeping cubicle and looked inside. His bed roll was gone. Every surface was clean without a trace of blood anywhere. Just inside the doorway was a stack of clean, neatly folded blankets, towels, and clothing. Din was surprised that Peli would take the trouble … she seemed more the type to just burn everything and sell him everything new, like a proper mercenary. He grabbed a towel and headed for the shower cubicle.
He opted for the water option instead of the sonic option. His brain had been addled enough without adding extra vibration. He stood under the highly aerated spray and watched diluted blood flow down the drain. This whole situation was a cluster, and he had screwed the pooch in every way possible. He should have been able to get Marathel out of that damn Hold. He should have been able to take down most, if not all those men standing there, particularly that asswipe with the damn hammer. He should have.
The shower made him feel somewhat better, physically, at least. Din looked in the polished sheet of durasteel he used as a mirror and decided his hair was too long. He hacked at it for a while with a vibroblade, particularly around the gashes on the back of his head. Eschewing the bacta injection for now, he applied the bacta patches and dressed in fresh clothes, making sure he wore a flight jacket with Marathel’s embroidery on the inner pocket, as well as a pair of Marathel’s hand knitted socks. As ridiculous as it sounded, he felt better for having these simple reminders of Marathel so close to him, as if wearing her socks would keep her alive.
Osik, I must still be concussed … that sounds like the kind of kriff in those rom-com holo-vids that I have never watched … and no one can say I have.
Din picked up his soiled clothes, remembering that he had stashed items in an inner pocket: a few shells, a small, curled piece of driftwood, the dried remains of a yellow flower, and the little woven raft. These he placed carefully in a small bin in his sleeping quarters that held some other mementos, including a small piece of beskar from his buir. He wished his buir were here right now; he needed that old man’s advice more than ever … or at least one of his old sayings that would make him pause and rethink the situation.
Well, kid, some days you get the gundart. Some days the gundart gets you. Some days that gundart just rips off your head and shits down your neck. And now you got gundart shit down your neck; the question is, what are you going to do about it?
Din let out a breath and pulled on his boots. Even his boots had been cleaned, as well as his armor. He attached his armor – it needed fresh oil but was okay for now — and replaced his damaged helmet. He would have to go to Nevarro to get that rectified, but, again, one thing at a time. So long as he was in a reasonable amount of light, he should be able to see just fine. He opened the locker to collect his weapons, and right in front were the beskar hammer and the remains of the Dilimgau. Din’s eyes slammed shut, his breath became fast and shallow, and the memory of Marathel’s screams came flooding back. He forced his breathing back into a regular pattern, and he grabbed his standard weapons quickly and closed the locker without focusing on the hammer again.
He took another look about the ship, noting that everything was in its place, and there was no evidence of the past few days, save the bloodstained cloth on the floor. He quickly folded it up and chucked it into the hold, ignoring the divot in the metal plate.
Just one question, though: where the kriff is my jetpack?
Din exited the ship. Peli’s yard was quiet. Din looked up at the Tatooine sky and figured it was very early morning. Heading straight for Peli’s workshop, he shoved aside a couple of droids that tried to impede his progress. “Peli?” he called. No answer. “Grogu?” Still nothing. Din picked his way through the workshop and the unidentifiable piles of machinery and parts on the floor and passed through a doorway into what he assumed were Peli’s private quarters. Entering a smaller room, he saw that it was hardly different that the workshop: bits and bobs of parts lay on every surface, but there was a large reclining chair near a corner next to an old, giant wire spool that served as a table. On the spool was a half-empty bowl of something that looked like stew, and in the recliner was a lightly snoring Peli, her bushy hair flattened on one side and a clot of stew over her ear. Snuggled on her chest was a sleeping Grogu, wrapped in a blanket Din didn’t recognize, but assumed would see again in Grogu’s pram at a later date. Din stroked the boy’s ear, but he did not wake. “Peli?” said Din softly as he wiped the stew off her head. Peli snapped awake and lifted a blaster; the business end tapped Din’s visor.
“Back up.”
Din straightened up and took a step back. “Peli … it’s me.”
“I know. Back up anyway.” Din took another step back and Peli stowed the blaster. “Dammit, Mando, you sure have a way of doing things.”
“How is Grogu?”
“Fed, clean, and sleeping, no thanks to you, the poor little bug. What about you?”
Din shrugged. “Clean. How long was I out?”
“14 hours, give or take. It took that long to clean the damn ship. And yeah, what in the name of a Hutt’s slime gland happened in there? And don’t say bounty gone bad. I went in there and I thought a womp rat had exploded! And you let my little cutie-patootie wander around in that?”
Din sighed, wondering how much he was willing to tell Peli. “Mistakes were made.”
Peli snorted. “Boba told me not to go in the ship. Wish I’d listened to him. I looked in that closet you sleep in and …” Peli shuddered. “How is that woman still alive, I asked myself. She must be made of stronger stuff, especially if you were willing to practically kill yourself to get her here. I hope I get to meet her.”
I hope you do, too. You’d like her, Peli. “How much do I owe you?”
“Boba’s covered the repairs and the cleaning. But you’re gonna owe me for traumatizing my little guy here! And me too. Half the night it was Sad Mahr and Sad Patu. Then I couldn’t figure out these new clothes of his and he refused to wear anything else.”
“Thank you, Peli. I owe you much.”
“Damn skippy you do, Mando. I should link your ship to an astromech just on damn principle.”
“I need to contact Boba; check on mesh … my bounty.”
Peli moved to stand. “Don’t bother.”
Din felt his heart drop into his bowels. Quietly he said, “What?”
Peli got up and shifted Grogu to her shoulder before she realized what she had said. “Ah, kriff, no, not like that. No, I got a message from Boba a couple hours ago. Here,” she said, handing Din a tablet. He tapped on the message notification that read simply: She’s hanging on.
Din looked up from the tablet. “That’s it?”
“Yeah, that’s it.”
Din sighed and put the tablet on the table. “I’m going there anyway.”
“Not on the Crest, you’re not.”
Din tilted his helmet. “Excuse me?”
“Apparently you did a number on the landing tunnel at the palace, and Boba doesn’t think you’re fit to fly for at least a day or two. After looking at your head gaskets, I tend to agree with him. And don’t even try to use your jetpack, he took that too.” Din stayed silent as Peli rocked back and forth, gently rubbing Grogu’s fuzzy head. “I can hear you roll your eyes from here. You can take the speeder out there or walk; I’m not about to piss off Boba Fett when he’s got a wind up his avenue.”
Din knew it was useless to protest. “I’ll take Grogu with me. I’ve abused your hospitality enough.” He gently took Grogu from Peli and laid him down on the table. Taking the tiny clothing and using Marathel’s dressing techniques — and without waking the child up — he had the boy clothed in his beskar, a little shirt, and jump-up in a trice.
Peli was impressed. “You’re getting decent at this parent thing, Mando. Go, check on your, ah … bounty,” she said patting his arm.
“Thank you, Peli.” Din pressed his forehead to Grogu’s, who yawned but didn’t awaken. On an impulse, he quickly tapped his forehead against Peli’s unruly hairline before stepping back. She turned the color of dreamberry sauce and snapped, “Go on, git, you space cowboy!”
Din went.
He briefly went back on board the Crest to pack a bag with a few essentials for Grogu and himself. After securing the child in his bandolier, they set off across the desert on Peli’s speeder, an old mongrel made up of spare parts that rattled like an asthmatic bantha. Considering how slow it went, Din believed Peli had put a kriffing governor on it. Grogu woke up after catching the wind in his ears for a few miles. He looked up at Din and chattered. Din looked down and shouted over the noise of the speeder, “We’re going to see Mahr, buddy.” Grogu chirruped excitedly, and Din patted the child’s belly, saying, “We gotta keep hoping she’s doing better. We can do that, yeah?” Grogu made an affirmative-sounding bleat, and Din replied, “Well, then, hang on, pal, let’s see how fast this hunk of junk can go.”
The ride lifted both Din’s and Grogu’s spirits. The sun, the wind, the dust blew out some of the darkness, the sadness, the worry that had pervaded the past few days. They’d gotten Marathel here, and she was hanging on.
One thing at a time.
One thing done.
Now you get to think about why she did this. And why didn’t you save her. And why didn’t you burn that place to the ground in the process.
As Din drove the speeder through Mos Espa, he could see that the destruction that had been wrought during the siege by the Pyke Syndicate was under repair. The city itself seemed to be thriving: the streets were filled with people going about their daily routine without fear. Some stared at the Mandalorian and the green child with bewilderment, some with slight recognition -- but mostly the sight of a fully armored and helmeted man wearing a green bug-eyed child on his chest was ignored. And Din liked it that way.
Din drove the speeder into the palace hangar and noticed that he did do a number in here when he landed the previous day. He apparently took out the landing lights along one entire side, and he had cut a deep groove through the sand that would make it difficult — but not impossible — for others to land. Din left the speeder in a cluster of other vehicles, hoping that someone would steal the damn thing. He placed Grogu in his bag, and the child immediately took hold of Din’s thumb. He entered the palace and began looking for someone who could point him in the right direction. As he looked down one corridor, Grogu made a cooing noise. Din turned back to see Boba coming towards him. Boba reached out in greeting; Din responded in kind. “How are you feeling, brother?” asked Boba, as the two men gripped each other’s forearms.
“Better. Not well, but better. How is Marathel?”
“Is that her name?” Din nodded; Boba released Din’s arm and they began to walk. “I’m sorry for the subterfuge of moving the Crest. The message you sent was … disconcerting to say the least, and I wasn’t sure if you were trying to be cryptic or were simply being a lunatic.”
“That bad?” Boba did not reply but handed a holopad to Din. Looking at it, he skimmed over a raving stream of consciousness that included the color scheme of the Elder’s houses, a debriefing of the Mist incident, and a lengthy report on Marathel’s bread-making skills. “Would it have helped to know I was being a lunatic?”
Boba waved his hand dismissively. “When you finally clicked on the comm. and revealed you had a concussion, it started making more sense … especially now that I've seen your helmet and the beskar hammer that did that kind of damage. But when you flew in here like the Imps were after you, and you carried her out … it made me wonder who the hell this woman was, that would make you fly here in that state instead of going somewhere else. A woman that was apparently worth what I found on your ship.”
“You have the coins?”
“I’m not going to confirm or deny the existence of nearly 2000-year-old, Old Republic, Aurodium coins in mint condition.” Boba lowered his voice. “Are the Imps involved? It’s tenuous enough here after the Pyke debacle. I don’t need Imps too.”
“No. No Imp involvement.”
“Then who is she?”
“Just a woman from … nowhere.” Din knew Boba wouldn’t believe that, but it was the basic truth. “How is she?” he asked again.
Boba didn’t answer for a moment. “It’s hard to say. We’ve been clarifying blood to transfuse her since you got her here, and she’s gone through it.”
“Take my blood.”
“We will. That’s not all. We’ve pumped her full of bacta, but it’s not working as it should. She just leaks bacta like she’s leaking blood. Fennec put her in the tank anyway, but she’s had to change out the bacta several times. She obviously has a blood-clotting condition but none of the usual treatments work.”
“Her … people — they are an isolated lot, a small community. Others there have a similar disorder, according to Marathel. Normally deep bruising is worse than a cut to the skin. But as injured as she is …”
“… there’s not enough intact skin to hold in the bruising. Certain genetic issues – like hemophilia - get worse in small communities. The Modifier has been in contact with a … colleague with more knowledge. They’re working on it.”
“Can we see her?”
Boba stopped walking and turned to Din. “She hardly looks better than when you brought her here.”
“Grogu needs to see her …. I need to see her. I need to see that she still lives.”
Boba led them through a door into a large open chamber. Near the windows at the far end was a bacta tank along with other medical equipment. Din headed immediately to the tank, where Marathel lay, wearing dark compression garments, an air regulator in her mouth. Her long hair was mostly in a loose braid, the end of which was buffeted about by the flow of the bacta fluid in the tank. Loose tendrils floated around her head. Steri-strips held the edges of the gash on her face together, and her hands were still on the wooden splints, but were now carefully taped down and strapped to her body. “Oh, ma’mwsh ha’laa …” breathed Din. Grogu whimpered. Din lifted the boy out of the bag and held him up to the glass tank. “Where is Fennec?”
“Resting. She hasn’t slept since you first arrived.” Boba carried over a metal stool. “I’ll leave you with her. I’ll send the headwoman in a while … she’ll help get Grogu situated in with the other palace children.” Din nodded. “You said her name is Marathel?” Din nodded again. “That is a lovely name.” Boba could hear Din swallow as he stared at the tank, and he put his hand on Din’s shoulder. “She’s a lovely woman,” said Boba.
Din sank down on the stool. “Yes … she is.”
Boba quietly left. Both Din and Grogu placed their hands on the side of the tank. With everything I have ever and will ever hold dear, Marathel, I swear to you I will earn your forgiveness for letting this happen. And if I cannot do that, then I will gladly bear your contempt for the remainder of my life.
Sometime later, the headwoman Boba had mentioned came into the room. She presented herself as Silnima, and she offered to introduce Grogu to the rest of the palace children. Din followed the sweet-faced brunette to the kitchen, where a passel of other children of various ages were eating a mid-day meal, and Grogu’s droopy ears perked up immediately. Din placed Grogu amongst the other children and sat off to the side, answering their excited questions about the little green boy as he enthusiastically ate some lunch. Once he felt that Grogu was well-accepted into the little pack, Din decided to head back to Marathel. Silnima told Din the directions to the room where he and Grogu would be sleeping. Din thanked her and left the kitchen.
Fennec was still tired. She’d fretted instead of resting, agitated about this mystery woman. She could almost believe that this Marathel was a bounty; that is, the kind of bounties placed by abusers for their victims. It happened; she was well aware. She was also too aware of the physical harm that could be done by the abusers. Marathel was the worst, but certainly not the first rape victim that Fennec had tended to. The slash down her face was a touch that Fennec had also seen before. She associated it with the type of culture that had a very definite line between the societal leaders — usually men — and the poor souls — usually women — who served them. Din had mentioned Elders in his holotext, ones who controlled the females from wherever Marathel had come. The extent of Marathel’s injuries, though, was something unusual in the types of settlements like hers. In Fennec’s experience, the outright killing of females was not conducive to growing or maintaining the population. Obviously, Marathel was made to suffer deeply for whatever sins she had committed … and her injuries were the type that would always end in death without intervention.
Marathel was definitely a mature woman – certainly near her own age — but well-nourished, and all the injuries notwithstanding, in good health. Her bones and teeth were strong, her skin was clear, her muscle tone was good. The incessant bleeding was worrisome. Boba had told her what Din had said about the woman and she did have some genetic form of hemophilia, and Fennec had relayed that to the Modifier and his unknown genetic researcher.
Fennec didn’t like these kinds of problems falling in her lap, but she understood Din’s need for anonymity, especially now that Grogu was back in his care. When one added to the nature of Marathel’s worst injuries, anonymity was a sore necessity, even in this enlightened age of the New Republic. Boba had not asked — could not bring himself to ask — if Marathel had been raped with a sharp-edged object, but she was sure it did in fact happen. Fennec was certainly no reconstructionist, but she’d applied enough knowledge to keep Marathel in a repairable condition until she could get proper surgery.
It was Marathel’s hands that worried Fennec the most. She’d argued with the Modifier at length about taking her hands, as mangled as her fingers were. On his rambling holotext message, Din had waxed poetic about her skillful hands as they spun yarn, cared for Grogu, touched his bare skin — the last of which made Fennec quite curious. They’d finally agreed to try to save her hands. The wooden blocks she’d arrived with were quite well-designed, and they’d decided to keep her in them, but immobilized her arms as well. As they’d transfused more blood into her, Marathel would temporarily regain some strength, even in her unconscious state, and try to fight them. Mostly, she twitched, and her arms and legs would jerk, and it seemed safer to keep Marathel from hurting herself with the wooden hand splints.
Fennec found that she liked this Marathel. She’d read the garbled holotext Din had sent to Boba. Twice, in fact. It had begun as concise as it could be, but as it went on, Din lost his Mandalorian sparseness of speech. It was hard to like someone while unconscious, but as she pieced together Din’s concussed ravings Fennec had developed a favorable opinion of the woman. She only hoped that she could help her, if for no other reason than she obviously meant something to Din.
Speak of the Sarlaac, thought Fennec, as she ran Din to ground just outside the kitchen. Din saw her and immediately went to her. “Fennec, I cannot thank you enough …”
Fennec held up her hand and cut him off. “Stop, please … just stop.” Din fell silent and stood still. Fennec, unable to speak for a moment, said with a grimace, “You know what was done to her?”
“Yes.” Din sighed. “I do.”
“What were you doing at the time?”
“I was unconscious.” Partially true ... When I wasn’t being the worst kind of craven hu’tuun.
Fennec gazed at him for a moment, sizing up his words, and said, “I think we should just bring her out now. The bacta is currently too contaminated for her to stay in there. Then we can take some of your blood and clarify it for her. The Modifier has yet to hear back from his source about her condition.” Din nodded and followed her back to the room with the bacta tank.
Boba was already there, along with the Modifier. Din went straight to the tank and peered down at Marathel. Her loose tendrils of hair still floated about her head, putting Din in the mind of his nightmare again. Her brow was furrowed, and she looked terrified as she twitched. He felt an insane need to remove his gloves and check his own hands, to make sure he was not somehow still stuck in a dream state. I am obviously still unable to think clearly. I should have taken that bacta injection. Fennec readied several injections and began draining the tank. Din stepped back from the tank, watching Marathel’s hair be retaken by gravity as the bacta level went down. As she could reach, Fennec injected Marathel with mild tranquilizers that she hoped would keep her calm as she came out of the bacta.
Marathel, for her part, had been floating in darkness, nowhere, for an impossibly long time. If she’d been pressed to tell someone where she was, the phrase in between would be what she’d say. She knew Olba had come to her, to aid her, to prepare her, to send her off to her final sleep. But all that she’d been told about the gentleness of falling into her final sleep had turned out to be untrue. There were moments of indescribable agony, of anguish, of feeling that she was slowly drowning in dense mud. In between those moments she could hear a low quiet voice, one that she thought might have been the Bounty Hunter as he had sounded without his helmet. But that’s impossible … He has taken the coins and gone to be with his people, as he should. And yet, in another moment of clarity, she thought Grogu was with her, the little green child that she loved as much as any children she should have borne but hadn’t, even though she had assumed her whole life she would bear many children, for as the Bishop’s Whyn she was compelled to birth as many as possible. But why was Grogu there? Mad ravings of a dying woman. It doesn’t matter. Just enjoy the memory of the sweet child; let him send you off to your final sleep.
However, Marathel was apparently not drifting off to infinity in between, as she now had the sensation that she had been pulled up from her abyss, and now she was suspended in a shallow sea. Her eyes were closed; she was still too far down to open them, but she could feel, could see the light of the sun above her. Was there … an actual somewhere the dead went? Am I now in the skies, above the clouds, with the other mothers that had gone before me? Would they allow me, a childless Belwhyn, to weep with them when a girl-child was killed?
There were … hands? Birds? Something touching her face, pulling at her, pushing at her, dragging something from her mouth. She couldn’t raise her hands to stop them, and the light of the sun became brighter and brighter. Marathel’s eyes creaked open, and she blinked several times until she was able to focus on a woman leaning over her. It was not Olba; it was someone she had never seen before, but she had a serene face and dark hair.
“Marathel?” the woman said. “I’m Fennec Shand. Welcome to Tatooine.”
Marathel’s heart began to race, and she felt unable to breathe, which confused her, for why would she need to breathe? She was dead, wasn't she? Yet every part of her was in agony. Must I still suffer, even after death? Her mouth, which hurt her terribly, opened just far enough for her to croak, “I don’t understand …”
“It’s okay, Marathel, we’re trying to help you. Mando, Boba, help me lift her onto the gurney.”
Mando? Boba? Who are they? Marathel sensed movement to her other side, and her eyes fell on the armored figure of the Bounty Hunter. Why is he here? Is he dead as well? Did they not give him the Aurodium but killed him instead? Grogu! What of Grogu? She whimpered, and began to mutter, “No, no … no, please …” Marathel wanted to raise her hands and push him away, but even as every part of her screamed in pain, she was also unable to move any part of her.
“It’s all right, ma’mwsh ha’laa, gar morut'yc …" Din whispered.
“No, no … what have you done, Bounty Hunter?!” cried Marathel. Din involuntarily stepped back, confused by her distress. “Did they kill you too? What of Grogu?” Marathel began to sob uncontrollably. “Was it all for nothing? For nothing? WHY, Bounty Hunter? Why have you done … this …” The tranquilizers began to take stronger hold, and her eyes unfocused even as they overflowed with tears. “I’m dead, aren’t I? I’m … supposed to be.” Marathel whispered.
Fennec broke the silence. “Please lift her out, Mando.” Din swallowed and as carefully as he could, slid his arms underneath the whimpering Marathel and lifted her out of the tank, placing her on a gurney. Marathel’s eyes refocused for a moment, and he could see her mouth trembling at the sight of him, and he believed he knew why she was so tormented, so he took off his glove and stroked her cheek.
“Ma’mwsh ha’laa, it was not for nothing, you did not suffer in vain, I got the coins, I did, I have them. You are alive, Marathel, mesh’la, you lived.” Marathel quietly sobbed and turned away from his touch.
Coins. All this, for coins? Fennec felt sick to her stomach. Either she had underestimated Marathel, or overestimated Mando. Or both. “Mando, I think you should leave for now.” Fennec said quietly, but as Din looked up at her, he could tell that she would allow no argument from him.
Din stroked Marathel’s brow, whispering, “Rest, my mesh’la, ma’mwsh ha’laa, both Grogu and I will be near, gar morut'yc.”
Fennec knew some Mando’a, and while she was intrigued by Din’s use of the diminutive beautiful, Marathel was upset by the sight of him at the moment. Despite Din’s words, the woman did not feel safe. She watched Din reluctantly leave. Leaning over Marathel again, Fennec said, “I can tell Boba and the Modifier to leave as well. Will that make you feel better?” Marathel curled up on her side with a sob of pain. Fennec waved the other men away, and they also left the room without a word. “It’s just us now, Marathel. Just Marathel and Fennec.” Marathel continued to sob. Fennec sat down on the metal stool. “No, you’re not dead. Do you think you’re supposed to be?” Marathel did not answer, and Fennec sighed. “Do you wish you were?”
Marathel’s eyes, still overflowing with tears, flicked to Fennec’s. Their eyes locked for a few moments, and Fennec knew the look in Marathel’s eyes well. Marathel closed her eyes tightly, and then relaxed some. She took a shaky breath. “How are you allowed to tell the men what to do?”
Fennec shrugged. “That’s the way things are here. It’s very different than what you’re used to, I know. It does make it easier when the men just do as you say,” she said, smiling.
Marathel’s lips curved upwards for a brief moment. The two women remained silent for a while as the tranquilizers and pain killers did their work. As her pain lessened, Marathel became calmer. “Why did the Bounty Hunter bring me here?”
Fennec shrugged. “You’ll have to ask him. His name is Din Djarin, by the way.”
“I know.”
“Then why do you call him Bounty Hunter?”
Because that’s the only name I knew until moments before I handed myself over. “That was how he introduced himself to me. Why do you call him Mando?”
“Short for Mandalorian.” Fennec could see that Marathel’s face gash was seeping again. “I want to try something else for your wounds. Are you all right with that?”
Marathel shut her eyes. “As you wish.”
“I will take you to a room where you will have privacy. No one will be able to enter unless you say so. Not even me … or the Bounty Hunter, for that matter. Now carefully and slowly roll over, face down, so I can move you.” Marathel did as Fennec requested. It took a while, for even though Marathel was now feeling very little pain, she had no strength. She finally got into a comfortable position and groaned. “You’re doing great, Marathel.”
Marathel’s face crumpled and she began to cry again. “There is so much I don’t understand.”
Fennec covered Marathel with a clean sheet. “How about, for now … you just concentrate on healing?”
Marathel took a breath. “Why?”
Fennec replied, “Well, to find out why you are so important to Din Djarin that he flew here like a maniac to keep you alive.”
“He … he did?”
“Mm-hm. With a concussion, even.”
“Concussion?”
“Bad head injury. You should see the back of his helmet.” Fennec gave the gurney a little push, and it floated beside Fennec as she began to walk. Marathel might have been impressed if she knew she was floating as she was; but, for the moment, she was distracted by too many other questions.
Fennec stepped out into the corridor and was surprised to see Din hovering right by the door. Din looked down at Marathel’s prone body, the tears on her face, and he wanted so much to comfort her, but Fennec mouthed not right now at him, so he stepped back. Fennec saw Boba speaking to headwoman Silnima and said, “Silnima, just who I wanted to see.” The woman came over next to Fennec. “Silnima, please meet Marathel. Marathel, Silnima is the headwoman here. She runs this whole palace.”
Silnima smiled at Marathel. “Hello, my dear. I am here to help you in any way you need.”
“Silnima, would you please check the stores for some clothing for Marathel? Something that will be easy to wear.”
“Nothing blue,” called out Din before he’d realized he’d spoken. Everyone in the corridor — save Marathel — turned to look at him, and Din was quite thankful he had the helmet as he grimaced in embarrassment.
Finally, Silnima nodded, saying, “I’ll see what I can do,” while Boba stepped towards Din and led him back to the bacta chamber, muttering that it was high time Din gave blood to the cause. Fennec and Silnima guided the gurney to a large room nearby. There was a bed and a long treatment table that the two women gently shifted Marathel to from the gurney. After closing the door, Fennec told Marathel that the door would only open to her voice commands, which Marathel tested several times in amazement.
“I’ve never heard of such a thing,” Marathel marveled.
Fennec smiled as she and Silnima carefully cut away the compression garments Marathel was wearing. Silnima had not seen Marathel’s injuries before and was aghast at what had been done to her, but she remained silent and calm. Fennec was attempting an outdated treatment for wounds, which was simply gluing the skin back together. The Modifier used a specific cyanoacrylate glue to help skin attach permanently to cyber augmentation, so he suggested they try it on Marathel’s external wounds while they waited for his contact to come up with something for her hemophilia. It was a long and painstaking process, requiring Marathel to have more doses of painkillers. Silnima disappeared briefly and returned with some soft dark loose clothing for Marathel to wear — none of which was blue, Fennec noticed with some amusement. After gluing together the worst of Marathel’s wounds, the women both helped Marathel put on some clothing, which nearly exhausted Marathel, but then Fennec said, “Okay, Marathel, let’s get you up and walking.”
“Excuse me?”
Fennec put a pair of soft slippers on Marathel’s feet. “Up. Let’s go.”
“I … I couldn’t possibly …”
“I know you don’t want to, but you have to, Marathel. Mando told us you developed fluid in your lungs on the way here, and you nearly drowned. I can hear how congested you are. We’ll get you on oxygen, but the best thing is to get upright and move around. This would be easier on you if you would respond to bacta, but you don’t, so …”
Marathel sighed. They’d had to do the same thing in the Hold, when someone had nwymunwya. She had spent many a long night holding the hands of little ones while walking around and around the courtyard in the cool night air. She wondered if the Bounty Hunter had done the same with her. Perhaps Grogu had done something to help.
Marathel rolled to her side and pushed herself up to her elbow with a moan. Fennec and Silnima helped her up to a sitting position and carefully put her feet on the ground. The two women put an arm around Marathel and supported her as she slowly put weight on her feet. After two steps, they were at the door, which Marathel opened with her voice command. Directly on the other side was Din.
“You’re standing,” he said, surprised.
Marathel briefly furrowed her brow at the non-mechanized sound of his voice, which pulled at the glued slash on her face. “They made me.”
Silnima said, “If I could run to the kitchen, I’ll get something easy for you to eat, Marathel.”
Fennec nodded. “That’s a good idea. You need to eat to heal. And I suspect Mando is a quart low on blood and should eat as well.”
Marathel was still staring, unblinking, at Din. “Is it far?”
Din shook his head. “No, not far. I’ll help you,” he said as he immediately took Silnima’s place beside Marathel. “If it’s too much, I’ll carry you.”
Marathel had no fight in her anymore, so she let Din slowly guide her the short distance to the kitchen as he quietly whispered encouragement to her. His continued use of the words mesh’la and cyar’e was grating to her, and he also said ne’kar’ta — a word she still didn’t know but could guess — but she remained silent. Upon entering the kitchen, she saw Silnima setting out a small bowl of something that looked like soup along with soft bread. Silnima had also padded a chair with soft cushions, which Marathel was thankful for as Din helped her sit. Her hands were still in the wooden blocks, so holding the soup bowl herself was impossible. Din turned her chair to face him, and he held the bowl for her and carefully tipped the soup into her mouth, the intimacy of which was unnerving to her. She was already riddled with shame that he was so caring, considering that she was now a Belwhyn, living or not. She was also nearly at her wit’s end being this close to him while her questions burned through her mind. Why did you bring me here? Why didn’t you just leave? How did you get me out? What did you do? Why? WHY?
The Bounty Hunter, of course, remained inscrutable in his helmet. He continued to carefully feed her the soup, which was warm and flavorful — a puréed stew, Marathel thought. She did her best to not look at him but concentrated on getting the soup in her mouth instead of down her front, even though every sip was painful on her broken teeth. Din carefully applied a napkin to her lips and said softly, “Are you … angry with me again, mesh’la?”
Marathel looked away. “Why did you do this, Bounty Hunter?”
Her use of Bounty Hunter, even though she knew his name, hurt his heart. “Why did you lie to me about what they’d do to you?”
“You should have taken the coins and forgotten about me.”
You told me you loved me. You told me to remember you. “No coins are worth what they did to you, mesh’la.” Marathel shook her head, tears spilling over from her eyes. He brought the bowl up to her mouth again, but she turned her head away. “Please, you need to eat, Marathel.”
Marathel looked down at her hands, turning them over, inspecting the blocks that held her fingers immobile. “You were supposed to take the coins and leave.”
“You wanted me to leave you there? After what they did to you?” Din swallowed and the bowl shook in his hands. “What kind of man do you think I am?”
“A bounty hunter. You find the person, you get the reward, you leave.”
“Mesh’la …”
“No more mesh’la!” spat Marathel.
“You will always be mesh’la to me, ne’kar’ta, cyar’e.” He held the bowl up to her lips. “Please, drink the soup.” With a grimace, she sipped at the bowl and wiped her lips with the back of her bandaged hand. “Good girl,” said Din idly, and Marathel suddenly shrieked and hit the bowl away with her splinted hands.
“DON’T YOU CALL ME THAT! NEVER CALL ME THAT!” cried Marathel, and then she burst into tears. “HE called me that! HE NEVER STOPPED CALLING ME THAT! Even when …” Holding up her arms to her face, she sobbed and wilted in her chair. Din gently took hold of her under her arms and pulled her against him. Initially, Marathel fought his touch, feeling too sullied to allow his gentle hands, but eventually relented. Knowing that he would hurt her if he wrapped his arms around her, he put one hand on the back of her head, and the other hand on her hip. It was too intimate of a touch, he knew, but it was the only way he could have her in his arms without causing her more pain. He wanted so much to ask her about Whyns, the Dilimgau, why she chose to endure what she had … but she was still too fragile. One thing at a time. One thing at a time. Din sighed. “Please, Marathel… you need to eat some more. Some bread?”
Marathel was too weary to protest, and Din held a piece of bread to her lips. She took a bite, chewed it twice, and made a noise that sounded like “Urgh!” as she spit the bread out on the table. “What is that?”
Silnima who had been hovering nearby since Marathel’s last outburst, came rushing over. “Goodness, what is it?”
Marathel gagged. “Is that supposed to be bread? That’s not … oh, it’s awful!” Marathel continued to weep, curling up upon herself.
Silnima picked up another piece of the bread, sniffed it, and tasted it. She wasn’t pleased with it either. “I have heard you make exquisite bread, Marathel,” Silnima said in a soothing voice. “Perhaps you’ll show us how while you’re here. But now I think … you need rest. You’re overwrought.”
Din immediately stood and lifted Marathel in his arms, making her wail in pain. Silnima led Din back to Marathel’s room, where they situated her on a bed, lying on her side. Silnima brushed Marathel’s hair off her forehead as Marathel’s breath half-hitched in between sobs. The headwoman gave Marathel another light tranquilizer. “I’ll check on you later. Just rest. Just breathe.” Din moved to stay with Marathel, but Silnima took his arm and all but pushed him out of the room. Out in the corridor, Silnima hissed at him, “Stay away from her for now; you seem to only upset her.” Din nodded, and Silnima returned to the kitchen.
Din was standing, miserable, staring at Marathel’s door, wondering what the hell he was supposed to do, when he heard a familiar drawl behind him. “Well, if it isn’t my favorite suit of armor, causing trouble.” Din turned and looked up into the hazel eyes of Cobb Vanth.
Cobb Vanth.
Cobb.
Cobb’s hand squeezed Din’s forearm, his mouth in his usual lopsided smile. “Hello, friend.”
Din took a breath. “You’re here,” he whispered. “They told me … came to tell me …”
Cobb shrugged. “I wasn’t dead, you know. Just mostly dead.” Din ran his gloved hand down Cobb’s arm, no longer flesh, now cybernetic. “And I got myself a new arm to celebrate.”
Din shut his eyes; the woozy feeling of his concussion was back. “I know … they told me you’d survived. But I never …” He began to weave on his feet.
Cobb put his arm around Din to steady him and began to guide him back the way he had come. They came to a door. “C’mon,” he said, walking Din through the door. “Are you panicking?”
“Yes … I can’t … please, turn off the lights, close the shutters …”
“I know the routine,” said Cobb, as he did what Din had requested, sending the room into darkness.
Din pulled the helmet off, hyperventilating. “You’re … you’re …” Din took hold of Cobb’s cybernetic arm. He hadn’t seen Cobb since the day that Din had asked for Freetown’s help with the Pyke syndicate, and then Cobb was gravely injured, and now here his friend was, overwhelming Din’s sensibilities. Din ran his hand up Cobb’s arm to his neck and pulled him roughly into a kiss as he thought, Cobb, my friend, I wasn’t sure when — or if — I’d see you again. Cobb — only mildly surprised — returned the kiss, gently holding Din’s jaw in his hands. In that moment, they were both transported back to the night before they took on the Krayt Dragon, a night they had wordlessly spent together, two lonely men who tried to make each other feel less lonely, on a night that they both partially believed would be their last. Cobb swiped his tongue over Din’s lower lip, and then their tongues met with relief and regret. Pulling back slightly, Din whispered, “I missed you so much.”
“Me too, friend, me too.”
“You’ve been here all this time?”
“Off and on. I was the bacta tank’s most recent resident. The Modifier did … well, an acceptable job. It was quite a process. Still ongoing.”
Din wrapped his arms around Cobb, who returned the favor, and Din dropped his head to Cobb’s shoulder. They were both silent for a long time before Cobb said quietly, “Tell me.”
“I … I wasn’t even sure if it was a real bounty. It could have been a waste of time.” Din clutched Cobb’s jacket as he told the entire story, leaving out nothing. Every word, every touch, every thought he’d had, every observation he’d made about Marathel from the moment she’d hit him with a pebble to the moment he’d laid her limp, bloodied body on the floating gurney, praying to a Maker and some moon-not-a-rabbit named Frith – neither of which he believed in — for her deliverance from death. If Din wept while relaying this story, neither man would ever tell.
Cobb had guided Din to his bed sometime during the story, and Cobb was now folded around Din like a jackknife, Din’s face against Cobb’s throat, almost as Din and Marathel were a few days ago. “I saw her when you brought her in,” said Cobb.
“She sacrificed herself for my sake. For a bounty I had no right to. I could have stopped her; I could have saved her.” Cobb stroked Din’s hair. “Instead, I was frozen to the spot. I haven’t been such a coward since before I took the helmet. A child.”
Cobb let out a long sigh. “Don’t do that … don’t. Concentrate on her healing. Marathel is the only one who deserves an explanation from you. No one else’s opinion matters. Certainly not the opinion of this desert redneck.” Cobb kissed the top of Din’s head.
Din nuzzled Cobb’s throat as he whispered, “I want to ask you to help me feel better … I need … someone. Something.” After a moment, Din continued, “But that would be so dishonorable to her.”
“You’re right. Not with this as an excuse. And not when you’re still concussed.” Cobb went back to stroking Din’s hair, avoiding the large wounds on his scalp. “You give yourself terrible haircuts, Din.” Din chuckled against Cobb’s throat. “I heard her yelling at you in the kitchen. She sounds like something else.” Din was silent. “And you got the little green guy back. Sounds like you almost got a built-in family. Is she good with the kid?”
“She is a mother without a child.”
“How does Little Greenie feel about her?”
“He loves her enough to hate me for letting her be tortured like that.”
“And you didn’t let the little guy heal her?”
Din took a shaky breath. “I couldn’t do that to him. She wouldn’t have wanted him to heal her, the way she was. Shab, he’s just a child. She’s probably the only person who’s ever treated him like one. They play this ridiculous game where they run, and I can’t even figure out the rules, but I have never seen that boy so kriffing happy. Everyone else treats that kid like an asset, or like a toy; even I do the same thing. But from the moment we met that woman, Grogu attached himself to her. The only reason I agreed to stay with her was because of him.”
“You sure about that? Because you talk about assets, she’s got a few of those.”
“I forgot what a sack of shit you are, Vanth.”
Both men chuckled, then were silent for a while. “She has been through some terrible things,” said Cobb.
Din swallowed. “Yes.”
“How did she do it? How did she get you to go into that Hold without a single weapon?”
Din sighed. “She told me specifically not to.”
“That’s it?”
“She said, ‘you will not speak, you will not interject, you will not intercede, no matter what happens in there … you will be still, you will do as I say.’ That if I cared for her at all, that I would do as she said.” Din thought about that tremor in her voice as she said be still, be still. As if she’d heard it her entire life. Two words that she had to obey or suffer. “And … that was precisely what I did. It was as if … if I disobeyed her, I would break a commandment stronger than my Creed.”
Cobb mused on this for a while. “That’s some woman, who can get a Mandalorian to give up his weapons, just on her say-so.” Din remained silent. “And I know no one in this damn shithole system will agree with me, but … good on you, friend, for not making Grogu heal her. You could have, but you wanted to protect him from the evil inflicted on her. If you’d had that little baby fix all what’d been done to her … I think I would have hated you for that.” Din said nothing but let Cobb’s large hand stay on the back of Din’s neck, his thumb stroking Din’s neck gaiter.
Din sighed shakily. “Thank you,” he murmured into Cobb’s throat. They remained silent for a long while. “Speaking of…” Din sighed and rolled away from Cobb, sitting on the edge of the bed. “I should find him; take him to see her now that she’s awake.” Cobb said nothing but knelt behind Din and wrapped his arms tightly around him. “Thank you, Cobb,” said Din, squeezing him back. “That arm will take some getting used to.”
“Still can’t feel anything with it. It does make for good times when I’m by myself, though.”
Din laughed quietly. “Dank ferrik, you’re such an ass.”
“And that’s why you love me. C’mon, let’s go find your boy.”
They found him in the kitchen with the other palace children, raucously enjoying an evening meal. Upon seeing Cobb, Grogu launched himself across the table and into Cobb’s arms, making him laugh. “Damn, boy, you got a spring up your ass!” Grogu grinned and squealed.
“Did you have fun today, kid? Get along with everyone okay?” asked Din, rubbing the child’s back. “It’s funny how your mood improves when you get fed regular meals.”
“Yeah, like a certain Mandalorian I know,” said Cobb. “When was the last time you ate something substantial? Never mind, I know the answer. I’ll cobble you together a plate and drop it off in your room. Now take Little Greenie to see his lady friend.” Cobb handed over Grogu to Din and shoved him out of the kitchen in the direction of Marathel’s door.
Approaching Marathel’s room, Din was surprised to see the doorway was open. “Marathel?” he called into the dark room.
“Hmmmm?” said a sleepy voice inside.
“It’s… ah… Din.” Smooth, Djarin. “I have Grogu with me, and he’d like to see you, if that’s all right?”
“Oh! Yes! Just a moment,” said Marathel, and Din heard her moving on her bed, and a dim light came on. “It’s all right now.”
Din slowly came inside to see Marathel sitting up. They’d found an oxygen condenser for her, and a cannula was under her nose. She still looked so weak and pale, even in the dim light. The circles under her eyes were prominent, and she looked gaunt. Still, she smiled at the sight of Grogu, who leapt from Din’s arm to Marathel’s lap. She gasped and grimaced in pain.
“Careful, boy, you’ll hurt her …”
“Never, never,” quickly said Marathel. “Never could you hurt me, my sweet, my love,” she crooned, hugging Grogu as best she could, with her hands still taped into the wooden blocks. Din noticed with alarm that her hands looked even worse: the dark bruising was now past her wrists. “Oh, Grogu, you came to me while I was asleep, yes? I was so badly hurt, and … I’m so sorry you had to see that. I wish you never had to see me like that, stealing your innocence of such horrible things. I wish I could undo it for you.” Din could hear tears in her voice, and tears came to his own eyes. Her first thought, again, was for the well-being of the child, protecting him from the ugliness of the galaxy, even at her own expense. Din watched Marathel softly kiss Grogu on his head. “I think … oh, I’m suddenly so tired. I can’t …” She started to wilt, and Din was immediately at her side, gently guiding her back to a lying position on her side. He lifted her legs back up to the bed, her arms out straight in front of her. “So … sleepy.”
“Rest, mesh’la,” whispered Din. After her eyes closed, Din noticed Grogu’s tiny hand on her jaw. He had put her to sleep. Din stroked the boy’s head. “Good job, kid.” Grogu looked sadly at Marathel’s hands, then up at Din. “Can you help her hands?” They looked terrible, and Din was concerned that the Modifier would remove them. The idea of his Marathel with cybernetic hands made him feel ill, especially after hearing about Cobb's difficult journey with his arm. Grogu moved to the edge of the bed, and carefully placed each of his hands on hers, closing his eyes in concentration. For a long time, nothing seemed to happen. Then Din saw Marathel’s hands take on a glow from inside as the dark bruising began to dissipate. Marathel whimpered in her sleep, and Din gently stroked her head, whispering, “Shhhhh, mesh’la, rest.” Her face relaxed again. After a long time, Grogu finally sat down with a quiet whine. Din picked up the child, hugging him close. “Thank you, Grogu. You did good.” Din held the child so that he could kiss Marathel goodnight on her cheek. The two of them watched Marathel sleep for a moment, and then Grogu pointed at Din. Din frowned at the boy under his helmet, pointing back at himself in confusion. Grogu then pointed at Marathel. Finally understanding, Din bent down to Marathel and lifted his helmet enough to kiss her soft cheek as Grogu had, but he lingered much longer than necessary. When Marathel sighed in her sleep, Din straightened, turned off the light, and quietly left the room. The two finally went to the room Silnima arranged for them. Inside was a comfortable bed and a table, which held a tray of food, probably procured by Cobb. Din laid a sleepy Grogu on the bed. Grogu yawned widely and closed his eyes, falling asleep almost immediately. Din removed his helmet, sat down, and ate while watching the little boy sleep, hoping that the child had been able to help Marathel again …and trying to not feel guilty that he had asked the child to do so.
Next Chapter ->
#the mandalorian#din djarin#din djarin fanfiction#the mandalorian angst#mando angst#din x female reader#din x fem oc#mando x fem oc#mando x oc#star wars fanfiction#starwarsficnetwork
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Mercs X Sweet Tooth G/N!
Hey yall! It’s been a while since I wrote a short head canon list for the mercs and so I decided to write this! I really have been getting into writing actual one shot stories instead of lists so that’s why my posts have been so slow ^___^ I’m thinking about making a version of this one for the creepy pasta characters to go back to fanfic roots ;-; anyways, g’day! Mwah XOXOXO
Scout:
-Very happy
-“Oh yeah? What’s your favorite one? Really! Mine too!” He takes out your favorite candy in response
-You both like staying up at 3 am eating random sweets
-The sugar rush hits both of you SOOOOO hard. Running across the fort, double, fuck it, triple jumping all around and screaming violently.
- You both literally laugh at almost every thing the mercs say even if it’s not funny or relevant and both laugh at each other laughing so hard. Your laughs become even wheezier when you both cannot speak and it’s both of you mumbling and laughing and your mumbling.
-Just as much as the rush gets you the crash hits harder than the market crash of 2008. Both of you are literally so tired you guys can’t even get up. Eyes sore, legs weak, body tired, everything hurts after literally sonic speeding everywhere. You both wake up holding each other or spooning <3.
-Instead of a hot steamy cup of coffee in the morning you wake Scout up by sitting on top of him and feeding him lemon heads and sour gummy bears.
-You like to throw gummies and candies into his mouth during fights just to play around and it helps with a speed boost
-Although Scout loves candy his favorite is of course: B o n k
-And you both drink it religiously! At this point you both have it in an IV put up into your veins.
-Scout and you have so much fun with candy. You both go to candy stores together and have fun picking out candies and sodas. Once you both get home you guys would eat eat eat, lose your mind and sleep for the rest of the night ^___^
Soldier:
-He doesn’t eat a lot of sweets, but once you give him one he goes a little crazy
-Once, you gave him a chocolate bar and he rocket jumped to space and didn’t come back for at least 3 days
-Soldier finds you alone eating a 12 pack of mini cupcakes to yourself and he gasps “Dear god!”
-“mfwhaht-?” Y/N said mouth full of white cake and frosting. CANNIBALISM!!” He screams pointing at you in horror
-“HoW!?” Y/N yelled out, Soldier ran over and ran his hand on Y/N’s chin “My cupcake is eatin’ a cupcake!”
-He loves a good ol' fashion American Cherry pie
-Coke is his favorite drink
-He mostly enjoys milk chocolate and whoppers
-Always makes sure they're made in America
Pyro:
-you know em, Pyro is a maniac for that typa shit. Way even more than Scout
-Give them a jolly rancher and he'll spend half of the time rolling around in circles laughing and banging his head on the wall
-her brain is already filled with sunshine and rainbows but once you add candy- it's full blown candy land
-they like to make you dance a lot when he's hyper on candy! Always spinning you around and around <3
-He likes hoping around too. He acts kinda like a little bunny ;w;
-Pyro and you basically just run around setting everything on fire without a care in the world
-His favorite candy...? All of em! Lollipops and sour-sweet ones are his favorites.
-They propose to you with a ring pop
Demoman:
-he can handle some sweet things but he's not a big fan
-But when you mix a sugar rushed Y/N with a drunk Demo it's alllllllll chaos.
-You both love doing karaoke when you're out of yall's minds, screaming violently to songs or crying to sad ones
-Probably have a super duper upper crazye rap battle too
-When you both crash you find each other on the other sides of the rooms but when you both wake up you go and cuddle.
-You both try and get sober from your addictions but fail and the next weekend is the same lol
-Like I said, Demo doesn't really like candy. The only ones he'd eat is going to be mixed with alcohol or root beer ones
Heavy:
no comment. these are his favorite
Engineer:
-being from the south, he loves moon pies and other pies in general
-Engi loves maple taffy and whenever it's winter time he makes them with the mercs or just enjoys them by himself
-He loooves taffy and Rocky Road!!
-Pie is also his favorite, Pumpkin pie specifically. He always likes to eat it with a scoop of vanilla ice cream
-All of the sweet things he eats are always warm and relaxing and so you both like to cozy up together and eat together
-Engineer always has to hold you down when you get a little hyper and he has to tell you to relax
-Gets overwhelmed trying to calm you down and eventually gives up but you decided to sit next to him when you can't find him
Medic:
-always warns you about cavities and tells you not to eat so much sweets
-He usually hides the fact that he eats soo much candy.
-Considering Medic is German he eats mostly German candy and chocolates but he's afraid to admit he likes American candies a lot
-He likes to eat sour candies but his taste in things is a lot more "luxury" and so he eats mostly dark chocolate
-Def the kind of guy to say he's not eating chocolate or candy and have stains all over his clothes and mouth
-Medic's manic-ness and your hyper-ness when you're on a sugar rush is. terrifying. Both of you don't stop and you both cannot.
-Both of you go on the most crazy adventures. Once you both woke up with your limbs detached and the other time you guy's switched bodies
Sniper:
-Sniper doesn't eat sweets. periodt.
-He usually just watches you go coo coo through his rifle and chuckles to himself
-even though he doesn't eat anything sweet he think it's so cute that you love sweets so much
-He goes out his way to always buy you candy when he has the time and his favorite part is holding it while you chomp into it
-Once he saw you eating oreos and he called you cookie monster and you didn't know how to feel
-He's very neutral with everything tbh..
-You always try to convince him to eat it but he just can't do it
-So he'll eat something savory while you eat something sweet so he can interact and hang out with you
Spy:
-He loves chocolate croissants...okay sorry for the french joke lmao
-seriously though he's french! France has the most bomb fucking sweets and desserts ever
-He loves Macarons, Éclairs, Profiterole and crepes
-He also really loves to tell you the history of those desserts and loves sharing his culture with you!!! <3
-He tries to calm you down whenever you have a sugar rush and usually forces you to sit down and eat desserts while he reads to you
-Loves to wipe off the cream or frosting off your face and say some horny french bullshit
-You alwaysssss beg Spy to make French pastries and he reluctantly agrees
-You both spend hours in the kitchen making food together and flirting. It's a really cute moment.
-During breaks or lunch you both eat your pastries together <333
okay so it's been a while since I posted. Hey yall! Hope you like this one <3 stay cute! Mwah xoxoxo
#tf2#team fortress 2#team fortress 2 scout#team fortress 2 medic#team fortress spy#team fortress sniper#team fortress engineer#tf2 medic#tf2 sniper#tf2 spy#tf2 soldier#tf2 heavy#tf2 headcanons#team fortress headcanons#tf2 oneshots#tf2 pyro#tf2 demoman#fanfiction#tf2 fanfiction#team fortress two
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i want blaze and silver to be in prime so bad. ik that silver was maybe confirmed but i haven't seen a reliable source on that. i'm still just, like. blaze is from an alternate dimension. the show is about ALTERNATE DIMENSIONS. pls let sonic show up in blaze's dimension and she's like "sonic?" and he's relieved that somebody finally recognizes him. blease
also silver shows up to be like WAKE UP SONIC YOU FUCKED UP BIG TIME
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WAKE UP sonic you FUCKED UP big time!!
#went insane w the procreate effect brushes#sonic frontiers#sonic the hedgehog#sonic#sth#chazart#sonic frontiers spoilers
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[ID: Three meme drawings of older versions of Louie and Boyd from DuckTales 2017, specifically from the fanfic Jailbird.
The first image is a redraw of the Barbie Movie mugshot meme, with Boyd as Barbie and Louie as Ken. Boyd is wearing a dark blue blazer over a light yellow button up shirt with light blue circles. He still has his red bowtie. He looks at the camera anxiously as he holds his mugshot sign. Louie is wearing a bright pink hoodie over a neon green shirt which is only visible through the hoodie’s mesh sleeves. His bangs are longer and he has fluffy cheeks. He also has a pair of rectangle frame glasses with slightly green lenses. His eyes gleam red as he grins in devious delight while holding up his mugshot sign with one hand.
The second image is a redraw of the “Damn bitch you live like this?” meme with Louie as Goofy and Boyd as Roxanne. Louie’s wearing a black suit with a light green button up shirt and no pants. His eyes are noticeably red (he was high in this chapter). He says the quote with a raised eyebrow. Boyd is wearing a My Hero Academia tank top and blue shorts with a yellow stripe down the side. He holds a rose in one hand and looks up innocently. The background is part of Boyd’s apartment, which consists of a couch, a flatscreen TV, and a table. Every surface is covered with flower vases. The drawing takes place in chapter 8 of the fic and is captioned accordingly.
The third image is a redraw of the “You fucked up big time” Sonic meme. The first panel is a closeup of Boyd’s face as he glares down with tears in his eyes, saying “Louie wake up! You fucked up big time.” The second panel is a closeup of Louie’s face as he squints up from where he’s laying, saying “Boyd.” The drawing takes place in chapter 39 of the fic and is captioned accordingly. End ID.]
Some Jailbird memes for your viewing pleasure
AU and fic by @the-writer-nerd-ro !!
#ducktales#ducktales 2017#dt17#ducktales fanart#ducktales au#louyd#jailbird#louie duck#ducktales louie#ducktales boyd#boyd gearloose#i wanted to post the first one but i've had the others for a while so thought i ought to post them together#thought there were more tbh... guess more of it was sketchbook doodles than i realized#doodles#meme redraw
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