What am I doing

LIKE

in the og game i thought he was one of the most unappealing bosses i've ever seen (just behind goop and werner [and i was a little salty about him because i legit couldn't get past his bossfight for a month]) BUT LIKE THE FANART-

LIKE HOW IS THIS CONSIDERED UNAPPEALING HE LOOKS SO CUTE-

Out Of The Astral Plane

Deep within the ethereal and vast astral plane, a couple stood together. Tartbaker, it’s new powerful ruler and a dragon named Nightwing, his girlfriend who had willingly joined him by his side. With a bit of concentration and astral power, a portal opened before them. He stared at it skeptically before giving a sideways glance to Nightwing. She had requested to take him somewhere and declined to inform him of where that was, instead opting to simply focus on the location while he made the portal appear there. Now that the portal was formed, it was obviously a… strange forest?

“… Are you… sure this is the right place? Why do you want to come here?” He asked, clearly confused.

Nightwing poked her head inside the portal and peered around. Her tail wagged.

“Oh yes! This is it.” She reassured, pulling her head out. She met his skeptical glance. “When’s the last time you’ve been outside. I mean REALLY been outside. Not just sitting around toying with mortals or being cooped up in here.” She flicked her tail at the astral plane. His gaze drifted away from hers as he tried to think of an actual instance of such an occasion. It had certainly been a while. Her eyes flicked back and forth between the portal and Tartbaker.

“Are you scared?” She teased. He moved to cross his arms.

“I’m not scared!” He snorted, “I’m merely thinki-” He was cut off as she laughed.

“So serious.” She teased taking Tartbaker’s hand in her own and walking into the portal first. The move caught him off guard, and the contact stunned him into silence. The couple was met with the sounds of the forest. Birds, the breeze, creatures scurrying into the underbrush. Going from utter silence to sudden noise always took a moment to adjust to. Nightwing looked around, taking a deep breath. “Doesn't it feel nice to get fresh air?” She said. Tartbaker meekly looked around. It was simply… nature. Trees, grass, and wildlife. She was just in a endless star realm of unimaginable power, and yet a forest is what excited her. He took a slow deep breath and glanced down at Nightwing with a look of uncertainty.

“I… suppose.”

“Come on then.” She walked ahead, pulling him along with her. He took a careful step forward and followed, glancing over his shoulder briefly to watch as the portal closed, leaving him in this mortal plane with her no less. He felt so foolish. He was born out here and yet spending a few years living with nothing but stars and silence made this whole world seem more foreign to him. While he had been in a forest not too long ago, he had been there entirely to taunt mortals and make himself feel better, as was his motive almost every time he left the astral plane. He never simply went outside to just enjoy it, going with a companion was even stranger. He would call himself pathetic but he knew it would upset her. He changed his focus to her as she enjoyed the sounds and sights while walking around the woods. Those beautiful eyes of hers were so full of awe. A loud gasp stirred him from his thoughts. His hold on her hand tightened.

“What? What is it?” Flitting movement caught his eye as a butterfly flew around them. Circling around Nightwing first. Her mouth opened in delight as she held out her claw to it. The butterfly continued its flying dance before landing on her claw. She turned to Tartbaker raising her hand in his face which caused him to step back, his starry cloak flaring around him as though to shield him from the bug.

“Look!” He peered down at it, his face unamused.

“It’s an insect.” He flatly replied.

“Well yeah, but it’s a butterfly. Isn’t it beautiful?”

“Beautiful? Ha! It can not even hold a light to your beauty….but yes it is…pretty to look at.” He remarked.

The butterfly took off from her claw, flying around his metal cap before settling on his pointed nose. It opened and closed its wings, slightly adjusted itself trying to comfortably perch the tip of his glass nose. He abruptly froze in place.

“What does it want with me?” He suddenly asked, staring directly at it with wide eyes.

Nightwing watched, her hands covering her mouth to hide her smile. She couldn’t help but laugh.

“What does it want with me?” She said in her best impression of Tartbaker. “You tell me, I thought you were the mind reader.” Her teasing made him visibly pout, putting his hands on his hips as his perceived danger of it all was quickly fading.

“Well I don’t know, I can’t hear its thoughts. It’s most likely too small and pathetic to have any.” He stated, his look gently softened as he watched it slowly move its wings in place, considering the delicacy of them and the various hues like that of fine sugar glass. She carefully approached him watching the butterfly as its antenna twitched. “Pathetic?” She gave a small shake of her head. ‘old habits die hard’ She thought. “Gene. We worked on this. If you want to get along with people now, you can’t call things pathetic. Or worm, or mortal.”

“I know.” He admitted. She was right. Again. He felt almost afraid to breath in fear of messing with this bug, his entire body tensed as though he was prepared to fight it.

“I think what it wants is a place to land and it decided on your nose. Maybe it sensed how sweet you are.” As quickly as it landed the butterfly flew off. Flapping silently into the woods and vanishing. “See? It just wanted to rest. How noble of the great king of the astral plane to let a lowly creature rest on him.” She bowed low. Her remarks got a good chuckle out of him as he waved her off.

“Alright. Get up.” She rose up from her bow with a gleeful grin.

“Come on! There’s more to see.” Once again she took the lead, her pace a little faster than before. The trees, bushes, and flowers became a blur as they ran only coming to a halt when they found water.

“Water! We can follow it to find a lake! Maybe there will be fish!” She let go of his hand, tiptoeing along the edge of the stream. She looked like a trapeze artist balancing on a rope. “Or is there something else you want to see? Surely there is something you miss out here. It can be anything.” Following silently as his cloak trailed behind him, He observed as the water glittered underneath the sunlight that pierced in-between the leaves of the trees above. It looked rather clear to him but he doubted its perfection. Her sudden question made him pause to reflect. had hardly considered it. In fact he forced himself to forget all about his once normal life. It nearly worked, but much like the stream, memories started to trickle back in. Nightwing knew the look that fell on Tartbaker’s face. When he got lost in his thoughts. She would sometimes have to pull him out or he’d be like that for hours, and things started to turn dark when he strayed too far, though this time he seemed much more in control. Only one thing came to mind.

“I suppose… maybe the ocean.” He finally answered.

“The ocean?” she echoed. The couple’s conversation stopped as they finally reached where the stream emptied out into a large lake. “Would you look at that? It may not be an ocean but it’s nice isn't it?” it certainly was no ocean, but it was the largest amount of water he’d seen in a while. “Shall we sit?” Nightwing asked. Reaching out, she took both of his hands, holding them firmly before making him sit down with her. He hesitated to full sit down, some part of him was still slightly worried about getting dirt or the like on his perfect clothes but as he sat on the grass with Nightwing, that worry seemed to fade. He faced the lake, listening to the running water. The breeze as it rustled the leaves. He had never felt so calm before. Nightwing sat herself against him, resting on his stomach so they could share the view.

“So what about the ocean do you miss? For me I’m not a very big fan of the beach…..but…..the ocean.” She scanned his face to see if he was comfortable. Sometimes recalling his past became too much for him. “If you feel like talking about it that is.” She added quietly. Tartaker’s body turned rigid with surprise. Slowly he eased, but clearly he was unused to any touch, especially one as gentle as hers. He let out a deep sigh, trying to calm himself. How could she do this to him? He went weak at her every touch. He ruled the astral plane and yet just her hand on his cheek would bring him to his knees. Slowly reaching his arm around her, he pulled her closer to him, his large glass hands slowly pet her warm black scales. Petting her always puts him at ease.

“I lived near it for most of my life, the sea has a very particular scent and sound. I can never quite forget it. I think it tends to remind me of more normal days. Ones spent in my…my home country. His voice became very quiet towards the end, as if he was slightly ashamed. As he recounted, Nightwing settled her head against his chest listening to the thumping of his heart beat. Her eyes widened upon hearing home country. Lifting her head away from his chest to stare at him curiously. It was hard to imagine him being born with parents and coming from somewhere. It was obvious he had to have had parents and a home, but the thought never occurred to her. Trying to imagine him having a childhood, and growing up, it was kind of silly to think about. She told him where she came from and her origins, she was curious to know his. He had her full attention, shifting her position with narrowed eyes. He stared back, raising an eyebrow.

“What?” He asked. She narrowed them further, reaching up, gently holding his face, attempting to see if she could tell just by looking at him.

“Hmmm ... .well….can I guess from where?” He flinched again, a shiver racked his entire body, as his cheeks were held and he was nose to nose with his girlfriend. With her personal space did not exist.It was something he had to get used to, one of many things already piled high on his plate. Her touch however was one thing he would gladly learn to accept.

“Go ahead. Though I don’t think you can tell by jus-”

“You know, you have no visible accent as far as I can tell, and you said it was from or near the ocean. How about France? No wait Germany?!. no…uh….Sweden?! No, not Sweden? Oh I give up. Where is your home country? Only if you want to, that is.” Despite her eagerness to know and learn more about him, she wanted to respect him, she didn’t want to make him feel like he was forced to give up such information. She sat back down, resting against him. Once she settled his cloak wrapped around like a blanket.

He sat still the entire time, his face remaining neutral at every country she mentioned. After she gave up, and offered him to give the answer, he collected his thoughts and replied.

“Well… no, I’m not from any of those, but I suppose there’s no reason in… hiding it.” He sighed, trying not to think about it. “For better or for worse, I am from…Italy. I gave up my accent a… long time ago. And I… I have not been there in ages. I don’t miss any people there, just… a few things and… places.” As he recalled, one glass hand slowly reached up to absentmindedly twirl one of his ascot ties. His tone was not bitter, more so ashamed longing.

“I can’t believe it. The best baker in the land, and the all powerful ruler of the ENTIRE astral plane…comes from little ol italy.” She gazed out into the water trying to imagine it was the Mederiatain sea. She could hardly imagine a young Gene Saltbaker, running about Italy, having parents…unless he was an orphan, perhaps that was too intrusive to ask. “I assume that’s where you learned to cook and to bake?” Her wings ruffled slightly in excitement as she gave it more thought. “Oh! You must speak Italian! D-do you speak Italian? Or….did you lose that too? I guess…..’Im-a da rular of dah astral plane-a.’ doesn't sound so….godly does it?” She sat up and tried her best to imitate an Italian accent. “Ciao!Arriverdverci, Mamma mia!” she suddenly chuckled, hiding her embarrassed face in her wings. Tartbaker couldn’t help but laugh with her.

“What was that?” He asked.

“I’m afraid I don’t know much Italian.” She admitted. “Was it your first language? My native dragon language was my first, English came second.”

“It is my first, and I can speak it. I learned English very quickly when I graduated culinary school. It wasn’t that hard. To me it was like learning a new recipe. Practicing until I got it perfect.”

“Was it hard for you to leave your home? Your family? Everything? Putting it all behind to live here?” For a moment, he let them sit in silence. He thought this would be a trip through the forest, not a trip through memory lane.

“Yes. It was. It was very difficult, but I couldn’t turn back on everything I worked so hard for. I had gone so far that it would be foolish to try and take it back. I knew what I wanted, and I had to leave to make it happen.”

“It sounds like why I left my home. I suppose there was more you were looking for than what Italy had. So you set out. I guess you and I have some more things in common than we thought?” she gently held his hand, intertwining their fingers. His eyes quickly met hers. There it was, ever present in her ruby red eyes, that sympathetic gaze nestled deeply in pools of crimson, and there she was yet again always understanding his cacophonous clouded mind, being ever empathetic to his personal plight of which have never been resurfaced for ages till now, being so patient towards him. How could one be so kind? So loving to someone like him? Why, it was only a month ago where he wanted nothing more than to see the smile ripped from her face. To see her broken and alone as much as he was. To remind her of her faults so he could feel anything other than his regret and guilt and seeing the pain and misery of others gave him just enough to escape those feelings, just for a fleeting second. He knew deep down that he did not visit the mortal realm to grace them with his presence, he visited the mortal realm to be graced by their presence. A smile grew on his face as pressed her closer to him.

“Yes. It seems we do.” He replied. That felt freeing. Another reminder of who he was. He wasn’t afraid to hide these parts of his life anymore. She was the only one who he could share this with.

“You think you could teach me italian?” asked Nightwing. A deep laugh escaped Tartbaker, making his stomach jiggle. He wasn’t expecting that.

“You did pretty well with the basics earlier, but sure I can teach you. Why not start now? That there, it would be called Fiume.”

“Fiume.” Nightwing repeated.

“Yes! Perfect.” He tapped his chin. “You would be called, drago. So, Io sono drago.”

“So then I would say, io sono drago?”

“Yes but your name isn’t dragon is it?” Nightwing shook her head.

“Then io sono Nightwing?”

“That’s right. Io sono Gene.”

“Ciao Gene.” She replied, her excitement growing.

“Ciao Nightwing. Ti amo.” He murmured.

“What does that mean….tee…amo?” Tartbaker could only stare lovingly at her, he reached out holding her face gingerly within his chilled hands.

“It means, I love you, in italian.” He pulled her closer towards him, his eyes fluttering shut as he closed the distance between them. Nightwing hardly resisted, leaning into Tartbaker’s touch before letting herself be pulled into a loving kiss. She reluctantly pulled away, each taking a moment to catch their breath.