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persephone-plasmids · 4 years ago

Text

Safe

A Danse and Nora fic.

[Read on AO3]

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“It’s eerie how well preserved this area is,” Paladin Danse said, as the elevator cage opened to reveal the silent Vault 111 in front of him.

“That was kind of the whole point, Danse,” Nora said, smiling over at him. “If they could preserve me this well for 200 years, it only makes sense that the metal walls held up too.”

“They preserved you wonderfully,” Danse agreed with a nod.

“Is that a line?” Nora asked, raising an eyebrow at the Paladin and making a slight blush rise in his stubbly cheeks.

“I… of course not,” Danse fumbled. “I just meant, from a medical standpoint, what they were able to achieve in this vault was… impressive.” Danse let his words trail off towards the end of his sentence, finding that he was only making things worse.

“Relax, Paladin,” Nora said, her grin still in place. “I was only joking.”

“Of course,” Danse said, trying to sound confident even though he still felt flustered. “I knew that.”

The way Nora gave him a short nod and held back a laugh before walking further into the vault told him that she knew he was lying. He appreciated that she didn’t state this outright.

Danse followed behind the vault dweller in silence. Or, in as much silence as he could manage when the sound of his power armor reverberated off the walls so loudly.

“The gun should be right through here,” Nora said, leading Danse through the halls of Vault 111 expertly. “I saw it when I first… woke up in here. But I wasn’t as familiar with lockpicking back then.”

“You’ve definitely honed that skill since wandering the Wasteland,” Danse agreed, giving her the smallest ghost of a smile.

He admired Nora for so many reasons. Her lockpicking skill was just one of the many ways she’d adapted to an impossible situation after waking up to a world she didn’t recognize.

She’d lost her son. She’d lost her husband. And yet, Danse had never seen her show the people of the Commonwealth anything but kindness. He didn’t know such people still existed in the world. Meeting her had shifted his perspective on a lot of things.

“If I can get the lock open, will you check out the gun to see if it’s something that might be useful for us?” Nora asked, shaking Danse from his internal musings.

“Of course,” he answered.

Nora led him to a small room within the vault and quickly began working on the locked glass case that held the gun.

“It’s called a Cryolator,” Nora explained, puckering her lips as she moved the bobby pin and screwdriver in such small subtle ways that Danse could hardly tell she was moving them at all. “From what I read on the terminals when I first woke up here, the Overseer of the vault made it as a way to pass time. It’s supposed to freeze enemies.”

“That definitely sounds like a unique weapon to have in your arsenal.

Nora nodded but didn’t say anything. She was focused on the lock in front of her, still trying to crack it as Danse watched her.

In this moment, with her full attention taken up by something else, Danse allowed himself a moment of self-indulgence. He watched the way her brown hair fell out of its bun in small wispy strands. He saw the freckles on her cheeks that she swore she didn’t have before leaving the vault. He studied the way her vault suit fit her a little too perfectly, which had been one of the reasons he’d tried to convince her to trade it in for a Brotherhood suit.

Her pink lips were still puckered as her long fingers worked at the lock.

Danse swallowed hard, realizing that he shouldn’t be staring at his partner this way.

“Bingo!” Nora said, standing aside with a triumphant smile.

“Outstanding, soldier,” Danse said, hating the way his voice sounded ever-so-slightly off after studying her so closely.

“Have at it, partner,” Nora said, gesturing to the gun and standing aside.

The Cryolator was definitely something Sanctuary could use to keep the settlement well-defended. And as Danse studied the weapon, he imagined the various ways it could be used to ward off Raiders.

“You really do wonderful work, soldier. Have I told you that lately?” Danse asked, turning around to find that he was alone. “Nora?”

Feeling his pulse pick up a few paces, he left the small room and began making his way through the halls of Vault 111.

What if something had happened to her? What if Raiders had been camping out inside the vault and they’d somehow missed them on the way in?

It wasn’t until Danse entered a cold room full of large metal containers that he found his partner. She was standing in front of one of the pods with an expression he couldn’t read. When Danse approached and curiously looked at the frozen man behind the glass, his brain made the connection.

This had to be Nate. This had to be the man Nora had loved. The man she’d built a life with, only to have it all stripped away in mere seconds.

He looked from the man in the pod to Nora, watching the way her jaw tightened as she stared at her spouse. She didn’t let any tears fall, though Danse wouldn't have faulted her if she did.

He wasn’t sure what to say to her at a moment like this. He wanted to tell her that she was welcome to grieve however she wanted. He wanted to make this better for her. But he was at a loss.

“Take all the time you need, soldier,” he said, because what else could he really say?

“I’m fine,” Nora replied, taking a deep breath, turning on her heel, and walking quickly away from the room.

Danse barely had time to register what had happened before she disappeared completely.

He could hear the sound of the vault elevator in the distance as it brought Nora back up to the surface.

She probably needs a few moments alone, he thought to himself, looking back at the lifeless form of the man Nora had loved. The one she had trusted.

His heart ached for her.

Danse waited a while before making his way back to the vault elevator, not wanting to impose on Nora’s private moment the way he accidentally had when he’d clomped into the cryochamber. But to his surprise, Nora wasn’t waiting for him on the surface.

She probably went back to Sanctuary.

He wasn’t sure if this was true, but he hoped it was. Any time he lost sight of Nora, he began to feel a panic take over his heart. He’d had a lot of partners and lost a lot of partners. But he’d never worried so much over someone in his life.

Nora had proven herself a capable soldier in the field. Despite her kindness and her tenderness, she could also be tough. She was a walking contradiction wrapped up in a blue and gold vault suit. Danse didn’t have to worry about her being safe on her own.

And yet, he did.

The sound of Danse’s power armor tromping through the dirt was anything but stealthy, but he didn’t care about being quiet at the moment. He only cared about finding Nora and making sure she was okay.

Walking through the streets of Sanctuary, Danse found the first settler he could, even though he wasn’t exactly happy with who it was.

“Have you seen Nora?” he asked the ghoul in front of him.

“Wait… are you actually asking me, a lowly ghoul, for help?” Hancock asked, his mouth quirked up into a half smile.

The Paladin knew the ghoul was pushing his buttons on purpose. And in the back of his mind, he knew he deserved it. But that knowledge didn’t do anything to quell Danse’s rage.

“Listen to me, you…”

“Careful Danse, if you get too worked up, your power armor might rust and you’ll be stuck in there forever,” Deacon said, stepping up beside Hancock with a matching smile.

Of course it had to be Deacon.

If there was one person who liked to get under Danse’s skin more than Hancock, it was Deacon.

Danse clenched his jaw tightly, to try to keep his temper from flaring up. “Nora is distraught from something we encountered on our mission,” Danse began. “As her partner, it’s my job to make sure she’s okay.”

“I think he still thinks he’s part of the Brotherhood of Steel,” Hancock said to Deacon.

The jab shouldn’t have hurt as much as it did. But the reminder that the organization he’d dedicated his entire life to had thrown him out like an old pipe pistol after they’d found out who he really was, stung him to his core.

He wasn’t sure he’d ever be okay with the way things had ended. And he wasn’t sure he’d ever be okay with who… or what… he truly was.

But Nora was. She wasn’t just okay with what he was, she’d convinced him that he had something to live for. She’d saved his life in so many ways. Because that’s who she was.

“Garvey,” Danse said, while still keeping his eyes locked on Hancock’s in a scowl.

He’d been aware that Preston Garvey had been watching the exchange with mild interest. He also knew that Preston would give him the information he needed, rather than needling him for fun.

“The General is in her old house,” Preston said.

“Oh come on,” Deacon whined. “Why did you have to ruin our fun?”

Danse simply shook his head in annoyance, never letting the scowl leave his features as he walked away from Hancock and Deacon. “Thank you, Garvey.”

“Ad Victorium!” Deacon called after Danse’s retreating form.

“Ingrates,” Danse mumbled under his breath as he made his way to Nora’s old home in the quickly fading light.

It didn’t take long for his expression to soften as he heard the soft sounds of music coming from her living room.

Danse exited his power armor and knocked on the front door, straightening his posture and trying to figure out what he could possibly say to Nora about what she’d just seen. He should have known that going back into Vault 111 would be difficult for her. The fact that it had never crossed his mind only made him feel that much more responsible for her current dismay.

“Come in,” she called over the music.

Danse opened the door to her home and entered the living room to find Nora sitting on the couch with a large bottle of bourbon in her hand.

“Soldier,” Danse warned. “I know it’s tempting to lose yourself to something like that. But it isn’t wise.”

Nora laughed at his words before patting the couch beside her. “Come sit with me, Danse.”

The Paladin looked around the room, as if he’d find someone else there who would tell him it was a bad idea. There was no one. And the voice in his head that was constantly telling him to be better was nowhere to be found right at that moment.

Danse swallowed hard before taking a seat beside Nora. He felt oddly exposed without his power armor on. With only the orange Brotherhood jumpsuit between himself and the outside world, he wasn’t quite sure how to act. He felt too vulnerable.

“Why do you still wear that thing?” Nora asked, running her free hand over the arm of Danse’s jumpsuit in a way that gave him goosebumps.

“I could ask you the same question,” he answered with a smile, looking at her blue vault suit.

She took another long drink from the bourbon bottle before smiling at him. “Touche, Paladin.”

The bottle was almost empty and he silently cursed himself for giving her so much time to herself after she left the vault. She’d most definitely be inebriated by now.

The way she lazily watched him told him that the alcohol was definitely doing its job. And while he didn’t approve of her drinking, he had to admit it made it easier for him to address what had just happened.

“Are you… okay?” he asked.

“You mean after seeing my dead husband frozen in a metal container?” her words should have sounded harsh, but coming from Nora, nothing sounded harsh. “I’ve felt better.”

“I know that couldn’t have been easy, seeing him like that again.”

“I wasn’t planning on going into that room,” Nora admitted after another drink. She looked down at the bottle in her hands. “I told myself I wouldn’t do it. And then I did.”

Danse watched her carefully. Her cheeks and nose were red from the bourbon and she looked sad. Sadder than he’d seen her in a while. How could he possibly make this better.

“I’m sorry,” he said simply.

Nora looked over at him. Her green eyes were wide as she watched him. “You remind me of Nate sometimes.”

“Oh?” Danse wasn’t sure how he should respond to that. Keeping his response vague felt like the best course of action.

“I mean… you don’t really remind me of him. But that feeling of safety I always felt with him… I feel that with you too.” Nora smiled now, before setting the bottle down on the coffee table in front of her. “I feel safe with you. And that’s… it’s an invaluable thing in the Commonwealth.”

Danse tried to look away from Nora as she spoke, feeling uncomfortable with how vulnerable she was being. But he couldn’t seem to tear his gaze away. “Thank you, soldier.”

Nora laughed softly at his response. “You don’t have to call me that,” she said, nudging him with her shoulder. “We’re not on some official assignment. You were just… accompanying me on my own little recon mission.”

“I prefer keeping things formal,” Danse lied. The truth was, he didn’t feel like keeping things formal with Nora. But he wouldn’t tell her that in a million years. Danse was broken beyond repair. Nora was many things, but there was no way she would be saintly enough to look past what he was.

“Do you really, Danse?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at him and leaning in closer.

“I think you should probably go lie down for the night,” Danse said, suddenly feeling uncomfortable at just how close they were on the couch. “Sleep off that bourbon.”

Nora leaned away from him and sighed. “You’re probably right.”

She seemed… disappointed. Danse wasn’t sure why she’d be upset by his suggestion.

As Nora stood up from the couch, she stumbled slightly, catching herself on the arm of the sofa.

“Okay fine,” she said with a giggle. “Maybe you’re right. I do need to sleep this off.”

“Indeed,” Danse answered, standing up and placing his hand under her elbow to help keep her steady. “Easy now.”

Nora leaned against him as he walked her through the hall to her bedroom at the back of the house. He tried to ignore the way his breath seemed to catch in his throat at her touch.

When they entered her room, Danse let her go for a moment to pull her covers down for her. When he turned back around, she was staring at him with a look he couldn’t quite read.

“You always take good care of me,” she said, her voice so low that he could barely hear it.

“I'll always have your back,” he said. “That’s what we do. We watch out for each other.”

“We do,” she said, the lazy smile returning to her lips.

Danse watched her in silence for a moment before his discomfort grew to be too much. “Are you ready for bed?” he asked, looking away from Nora for a moment.

“Was that a line?” she asked, her grin widening.

“Nothing I’ve said today has been a line,” Danse said, hoping she was too intoxicated to notice how red his cheeks had become.

Nora stepped closer to Danse with the grin still in place. “Are you sure about that?”

Danse backed away from her but couldn’t move very far before the back of his legs hit the mattress. Not wanting to encourage her further, he stepped away from the bed. Of course, this only brought him closer to her.

Seeming to take this as a sign, Nora pressed her lips firmly against his. She tasted like alcohol, which only helped to remind Danse of why this was incredibly inappropriate.

Pushing her away gently he tried to gather his thoughts as his mind desperately tried to push him closer to her again. “Soldier, this is… inappropriate.” His words were stilted and his voice sounded tight.

“Again, Danse, that’s kind of the point,” Nora said, bringing her lips to his again and wrapping her arms around his neck.

Danse knew he should push her away. She was intoxicated and he had no business kissing her. But he couldn’t stop himself from kissing her back. Only for a moment. Only long enough for his heart to begin hammering inside of his chest.

His breathing was shallow as his mouth moved with hers, and he hated himself for kissing her back when it was so obvious she wasn’t in her right mind. The guilt that flooded his mind was only outweighed by the sudden deep desire he had to deepen the kiss.

Danse couldn’t remember the last time he’d been properly kissed. And as much as his hands were itching to pull Nora closer, he pushed her away again.

“Soldier,” he began. “Nora… this… this isn’t okay. You’re drunk.” His voice was soft as he stared into her green eyes. Those beautiful eyes that had looked into his soul when he’d first found out he was a synth. Those green eyes that had convinced him he had something to live for.

“I’m not that drunk,” she said. “And I know what I want.”

Nora kissed him again, this time more desperately. She parted his lips with her own, tangling her fingers in his dark hair and pulling him closer and closer. Her kisses grew hungrier with every second and with each one, Danse found himself less able to do the right thing.

He wanted her. And that realization terrified him. He’d never wanted anyone this way.

“Nora, please,” he insisted between kisses. He wasn’t sure how much longer he’d be able to resist the woman he’d spent so long admiring.

In response, Nora dropped her hands to Danse’s waist, pulling him against her. “Don’t you want this?” she asked breathlessly. “I’ve always thought you did.”

How did he respond to that? He couldn’t possibly tell her the truth. That he’d wanted this since he’d met her. That would only encourage her. And Danse wasn’t the type of person to take advantage of someone when they couldn’t properly think for themselves.

“Nora,” he said, pushing her hands away and taking a breathless step back. His chest rose and fell rapidly as he watched her. Even now, knowing he had to do the right thing, his body was screaming at him to pull her close again. “You’ve had too much to drink.” His words were short and to the point. He didn’t think he’d be able to stay away if he let any emotion sneak into his voice right at that moment. “If this happened, it wouldn’t be right.”

“I already told you I want this,” Nora insisted, but as she took a step closer to Danse, he sidestepped her.

“You aren’t sober enough to make that decision,” Danse answered, furrowing his brow and wishing Nora hadn’t found that bottle of bourbon. “So I’m making it for you. You need to go to sleep.”

Nora watched him with hurt in her green eyes, her brows knitting together. “I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable,” she said, turning away from him. She seemed to take a deep breath before crawling into her bed.

Nora turned her back to Danse, instead facing the wall after lying down. The silence between them was suddenly deafening.

Even though he knew he was doing the right thing, her response made him feel like the bad guy.

“I wasn’t uncomfortable,” he said. “I just… want you to be safe.”

He watched her for a moment longer, feeling like he’d done something wrong somehow.

“Goodnight, Danse,” Nora said.

He sighed deeply at her words. In the morning, he’d come by and check on her. She probably wouldn’t remember any of this. He wasn’t sure if he was happy or sad that he couldn’t say the same.

This evening would be burned into his memory for the rest of his life. The feeling of Nora kissing him was going to make it almost impossible for him to keep working with her. He’d always been vaguely aware of his feelings for her, but he’d managed to tell himself that they were simply a result of finding a genuinely kind human being in the midst of a place as awful as the Commonwealth.

Now he knew the truth. He was head over heels for Nora. But he knew there was no way she’d ever want a synth. And why should she? He’d brought her into the Brotherhood. He’d taught her that synths were an abomination. And now he’d have to reap what he’d sown.

He watched her with sad eyes as her breathing slowed down and she fell asleep.

He’d be a good friend to her. He’d always try to be a good friend to her. Because despite his feelings that he knew couldn’t be reciprocated, she deserved a good friend. Danse would rather have Nora in his life as a friend than not at all. And even though he knew it would be torture to be around her after realizing just how much he cared for her, he couldn’t live with the alternative.

“Goodnight, Nora,” he said into the now-dark house.

[Part 2]

#fo4 #fallout #fallout 4 #danse #paladin danse #fallout danse #nora #fallout nora #sole survivor #fanfic #fallout fanfic #fallout 4 fanfic #danse x sole survivor #danse x sole #paladin danse x sole survivor

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fandom-blackhole · 4 years ago

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Can you make a nsfw alphabet for any of the bucketheads?

Omfg this took me way longer than I thought, but here it is. I hope you all enjoy it...

DIN, BOBA, PAZ

NSFW Alphabet

A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)

Din: As much as I love Din, I think it depends on what his day was like. If he's had a rough day, that resulted in him just plowing into you then aftercare is more or less just gonna be a very sleep cuddle session. But, if its been an okay day with some fucking or love making, and he has the energy too, then he'll take care of you. Getting up to clean the both of you off, cleaning up the bed if need be, before cuddling and holding you close.

Boba: Oh man, this man lives to take care of you. He's not soft often, but after he's all but demolished you he loves to just softly clean up and give you soft kisses wherever he had been especially rough with you that night. And if he lays back down and pulls you onto his chest for cuddles, well we don't talk about that, we just enjoy it.

Paz: Oh maker, Paz is the KING of aftercare. He loves being able to take care of you in anyway that he can. So after a good round of fucking or love making he'll cuddle and, if he can, kiss you until you are all but asleep. Then he'll slowly get up and get a warm washcloth and clean the both of you thoroughly, even going as far as grabbing some water and setting it nearby for when you wake up. Then he'll join you again cuddling up to you like the big teddy bear that he is.

B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)

Din: His favorite body part on himself is his chest. He’s not a very vain person, if at all. If anything he’s probably a little self conscious because he is one of the smaller mandalorians in the covert, but he’s always been proud of his chest. It’s the least scarred spot on his body, and even though he doesn’t have a six pack but he’s nice and lean and has a tapered waist. He also really likes the nice trail of dark brown hair that he has on his stomach leading down to his pants.

His favorite body part on his partner is their thighs, as I have talked about in the past. Din just really loves the pillowy flesh there. He loves to grab at them and squeeze them. He loves when you wrap them around his waist as he’s thrusting into you, or when you squeeze his head with them as he’s eating you out. He loves marking them up with bruises and hickies and see that his marks all over your thighs.

Boba: His favorite body part on his own body is his cock. Literally he doesn’t even have to think twice about the answer for this one. He thinks its the perfect mix of length and thickness that gives give partner the perfect amount of stretch and pleasure. This man also absolutely gets off to his partner praising his cock.

Boba’s favorite body part on his partner is their neck. He loves biting and sucking at it, just absoluetly marking you up to the point that you can’t hide it, so everyone knows who you belong too. He also loves when you let him wrap his hand around your throat, whether just loosely or actually squeezing, he doesn’t care.

Paz: He absolutely loves his thighs and legs. He loves how strong and thick they are. JUst all muscle that allows him to squat and lift things that most people can’t. He very much likes kicking and using his legs when he’s sparing, using them to knock his sparing partner of kilter. He also loves that his strong thighs allow him to thrust up into you harder and more powerfully in the way he knows you like.

Paz’s favorite body part on his partner is their hips, no questions asked. He absolutely loves gripping them as he pounds into them from any position, whether it be missionary, doggy, or when you are riding him. He loves seeing his fingerprints left behind after a round, or two, of lovemaking. They also drive his brain to short circuit when he thinks about how good those hips will look carrying his children around, both during and after pregnancy.

C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)

Din: He slightly more than the average person does. He doesn’t cum a ton, but it’s also not an average amount, you know? As for where he likes to cum, his favorite places are down your throat with your nose buried in his curls, he likes decorating your back with his cum when he’s taking you from behind, and lastly deep inside of you after just burying himself as deep as possible.

Boba: He cums A L O T. Like so much that you are still shocked everytime just how much comes out of him when he finally spills over. Boba’s favorite places to cum are in your mouth with his tip just barely past your lips, he likes cumming all over your face and tongue, and lastly and his favorite place, is after he’s just pulled out of you and all over your fluttering sensitive hole and thighs.

Paz: He also cums alot more than what you would expect to be possible. Paz’s favorite places to cum are on your chest after you just gave him a blowjob, he likes watching your chest go up and down while you are trying to couch your breath, he also likes covering you thighs, seeing as they are his favorite body part of yours, and lastly, he would love cumming as deep inside of you as possible.

D= Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)

Din: He really, really wants to fuck you in the ass. Just something about squeezing his cock into that tight little hole has him hard almost instantly. He just wants to have you in any way that he can and your ass is just one of those things that has him all but drooling to get to touch, If you ever even ask his to stick a finger in there he would think he’d died and gone to heaven.

Boba: He dreams of fucking you on the throne in front of everyone. Just stripping you down to nothing and only pulling his cock out of his pants before thrusting up into you. He wants to hold you by your thighs keeping them wide open for everyone to seeing, with your back on his chest, and he just rails into your tight wet perfect hole.

Paz: He gets really turned on by just the thought of skull fucking you. Like he knows he pretty well endowed, and it takes a lot to just give him a regular blow job. But the thought of holding you head and just pounding into your throat over and over is just too much for him. He of course never brings it up because he's scared to hurt you and he tells you that you don't need to even give him a regular blow job if you're not comfortable. He doesn't want to push you, but fuck does that image haunt his dreams.

E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)

Din: He has some experience, but not alot at all. He’s been with a handful of people, most of them just quick one night stands. So with you he fumbles a bit, but once he gets going he and he memorizes your body he will pleasure you in a way no one has before.

Boba: This man F U C K S. I think we can all agree on that. He’s never really stayed with the same person for long until it comes to you, though. But, as soon as the two of you start being intimate he just wrecks you, knowing how to play all the right cards, and press all the right buttons.

Paz: He doesn’t have ton of experience either, but he has a little bit more than Din. Like Paz never has really found anyone he’s wanted to be with, but the man has a T O N of pent up energy, so before he met you he would occasionally find a one night stand, usually taking care of his needs, and making sure to please his partner before he would leave. So by the time he gets with you he has picked up enough to really know what he likes and how to get his partner where they want to be.

F= Favorite position

Din: He absolutely loves when you ride him, especially if it is in his pilot chair.

Boba: He loves to bend you over just any surface he can, a table, a counter, the bed, the sink in the refresher, everything….

Paz: He lives to hold you against a wall or just in his arms, and pound up into you.

G= Goofy (how serious are they)

Din: I would say that Din is on the more serious side. If something happens you both will just laugh about it, but for the most part Din is focused and just wants to pleasure you.

Boba: He may chuckle here and there at the beginning during the first part of foreplay, but as soon as he starts to really get going this man is serious. He has a job to do and that is to take care of his little one, and there isn’t anything that is going to get in the way or distract him from that.

Paz: With Paz it definitely depends, more often than not he will crack a joke here and there. He is more relaxed with you, so when you both are in the throws of passion he does occasionally throw out a cheesy joke, loving the way you smile or giggle. But there are some nights, where he’s just had a rough day and all he wants to do is pound into you and hear your moaning and nothing else.

H= Hair (grooming habits)

Din: He keeps himself trimmed, more out of comfort than anything else. With all of the armor and the heavy flight suit he wears he has found that it is just more comfortable for him to keep things trimmed and short down there to prevent sweating too much or chaffing.

Boba: Before the pit Boba was much like Din, he kept everything nice and trimmed, but after the pit and he lost most of his hair he just starts shaving it all off, not seeing the point in keeping it and it is just easier for him to do that instead.

Paz: He definitely occasionally trims everything down, but I think Paz is a hairy person in general so most of the time he just leaves it, knowing that everytime he tries it just grows back quickly. But for you he does try with these things because he wants to be his best for you.

I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)

Din: He can swing either way. It all honestly depends on his moods. I don’t think Din is one to seek you out for sex often, purely when emotions or tensions are high. If it is after a particularly rough hunt, and he’s stressed and pent up he’s more likely to be rougher and talker dirtier. But most of the time he is softer and not necessarily dirty, but he still has a dirty mouth during sex no matter what. He doesn’t talk much, but during sex he does tend to run his mouth.

Boba: This man is the definition of rough and dirty. Out of bed he may be romantic, but as soon as the two of you are in the bedroom, well he’s just using you anyway he wants too, calling you dirty names, teasing you, saying the dirtiest things imaginable, just anything and everything. The sweetest thing he does in the bedroom is call you princess or little one.

Paz: He is a mix of both. Paz is a romantic at heart but he also has a rough side to him that only ever really shows when the two of you are in bed together. When you are together he worships you and your body because he just loves you so fucking much. He always starts softly and saying romantic and sweet nothings, but as the two of you move further and further into the throws of passion he will start being rougher, and saying dirty things, but they all still have a romantic edge, if that makes sense?

J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)

Din: He, before you, only every masturbated out of necessity, only doing it to get rid of the problem, or just to release a pentt of built up tension. After he meets you though he finds himself needing to take care of the problem more often, not being able to get you out of his head. Once the two of you are together he comes to you when he can, but if he is away on a hunt, he does like to comm you and have you talk to him and just have comm sex.

Boba: He was never one to really just take care of the problem himself. He has always had women willing to help him out, so whenever he has the need he would just go and find someone and pull them off to a room or closet or whatever. But once he meets you, well, he just seeks you out. It doesn’t matter that this man is older, he still has the stamina he had in his youth, so you just have to learn to go along with him whenever he comes to find you.

Paz: He is someone who is known to indulge himself. Paz has always takes his time with himself. He knows what he likes and he always goes the whole nine yards everytime. Once he meets you that doesn’t change at all, if anything he ends up touching himself more often because he just can’t stop thinking about you. He always feels slightly guilty, but the minute he sees you again he just wants to pull you into the closest room. Then once the two of you are together he finds a hard time keeping his hands to himself, though if you ever were to suggest some mutual masterbation, or just to watch him, he might combust.

K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)

Din: Breeding kink but we all been know about this, he loves being a father to his little foundling and the thought of putting a kid into you just kills him. Slight pain kink, I'm not really sure how to explain this one other than, like he got hurt and after you patch him up, he's so wound up because of the injury he just fucks you senseless, something about turning pain into pleasure turn him on.

Boba: Innocence kink, this man has a huuugggeee innocencekink, he just wants to corrupt you any way possible. Exhibition kink, Boba loves the idea of fucking you on the throne in front of everyone,, or fuckinv you somewhere where someone could walk in at any moment. Period kink, listen, I don't know what it is, but this man L O V E S when your body is extra sensitive, and loves fingering you and seeing the blood on his fingers.

Paz: BREEDING KINK, Paz wants a family so fucking badly, he talks nonstop about filling you up and just breeding you. Pregnancy kink, the breeding kink leads up to this, but once, if, Paz knocks you up he will try and make love and fuck you everyday,, loving the way your breasts and belly swell all for his child that is nestled inside of you. Bondage kink, he absolutely loves seeing you tied up for him, helpless but to take what he gives you, but also just seeing the knots and rope all over your body is one of the prettiest image he can image.

L= Location (where they like to get it on)

Din: He is kind of old school, and likes to have his way with you in bed most of the time. Buuttt, that being said, there isn't a spot on the Razor Crest where you both haven't gotten it on. Din comes back from hunting and just can't hold back sometimes long enough to make to his bed, so in the end a wall or crate has to make do.

Boba: Anywhere, this man will fuck you any where he pleases. The hallway? Been there done that. The refresher? Of fucking course. The throne? Seriously who do you think he is?!?! Boba's bed is his main choice, but like I said, the man likes to just bend you over where ever and when ever.

Paz: This man also really enjoys fucking you just about anywhere. He tends to stick to the bedroom and the bed, unless you ask him otherwise. As I said before though, Paz fucking loves fucking you against the wall while holding you up. He loves anything he can use his strength with. Another of his favorites is against the wall in the shower, you learn quickly that showering with Paz almost always leading to him absolutely railing you into the wall. Paz has also been know to pound you into the floor of training room.

M= Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons)

Din: If you ever wear tight pants around this man he will go nuts. This plays back into how much he just loves your ass. He can and will come up behind you and grope at you ass. Also if you ever just nonchalantly call him yours or say your his he'll go feral.

Boba: He fucking loves when you wear things that show off you skin. Bonus points if the clothes highlight marks he left behind the night before. Boba also fucking loves when you call him sir or boss. And lingerie he will pounce on you if he ever walks into you bedroom finding you lounging on the bed in some pretty lingerie.

Paz: Paz also likes when you call him sir or alor'ad (captain). Seeing you with children also does Paz in, the younger the better. This man just wants a family and the thought of you with his kid pretty much breaks him. He so gets super turned on the two of you spar or practice shooting, just seeing you all tough and holding your own is like a drug for him.

N= No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)

Din: Anything that results in your pain. He doesn't like hurting you at all, so causing you pain isn't something he's into.

Boba: There isn't alot that Boba would say no too. But I don't think Boba would be one to share you. You are his and no one else gets the pleasure of touching you.

Paz: Paz also hates the idea of hurting you so he will say no to that as well. He loves and cares for you too much to even think about doing anything that could seriously hurt you.

O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)

Din: Din is vocal during sex. He just lets his guards down and says pretty much anything that comes to mind. Now when you give him head, that vocalness doubles like 10 fold. He tangles his fingers in your hair and just sings praises through moans and grunts. When he finishes he always tends to shove himself completely down your throat and empty himself there.

Now giving oral is one of Din's favorite pass times. I've talked about this in THOTS before, but Din doesn't let himself enjoy tastes and he inhales food quickly so he can get his helmet back on, but when he gives oral, he takes his fucking time. He teases the fuck out of you and will make you cum until you are crying and pushing his face away. And he will try to dive back in asking for just one more.

Boba: This man is rough when he's receiving head. He loves hearing you choke around his cock, and he tends to thrust up into your mouth and throat. Don't even think of teasing him because he will end up returning the favor and then some. The entire time he will praise you and make comments about how pretty you look with his cock in your mouth. Boba likes pulling out until just his head is in your mouth before cumming. Then he tells you to swallow, and praises you for following orders so well.

Now when Boba gives head he teases the ever living fuck out of you. He makes you work for your orgasm, and work you fucking do. He constantly forces you to the very edge before pulling away and saying, 'not yet princess'. He makes you scream and beg for it before he lets you cum, and by then you are crying in frustration, but when he does finally let you cum it is so good that you forget about all the pain and lead up.

Paz: He is super gentle when you are giving him head. This man is terrified of hurting you in anyway. He lets you take the lead and never pushes you too far, always so thankful that you are even doing this for him. The image of your lips wrapped around his cock is something he dreams about, as I previously stated. And if you ever let him thrust up into your mouth even just a little he will cum right then and there. When Paz gets close though he likes to pull out and pump his cock a few times before painting your face and chest with his cum. Then he always scoops it up and presses it into your open mouth with a groan.

Paz is very enthusiastic about giving head. He completely gets off on your pleasure. He very quickly memorizes what makes you tick and he uses that against you. He teases you a bit just to drag it out, but in the end he loves having you cum on his face too much to drag it out that long. He also likes to make you cum multiple times before pulling away. If he is going down on you, he expects you to cum at least twice before he moves on.

P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)

Din: It really depends on the day and what mood he's in. If its been a rough day, he isn't quick per say, but he definitely doesn't take his time. He has a job and some tension to get out. But most of the time Din likes to take his time and savor you, fucking you deep and slow. If he wanted to, he could drag it on for hours.

Boba: Depends on the time and where the two of you are at. Boba doesn't rush no matter what, even if it is a quickie. Boba lives to draw your pleasure out anyway he can. Boba can and will drag things out all night if he can just to watch you scream and beg for him. Boba likes to ride you hard and fast, though he also likes to slow down to an unbearable pace occasionally.

Paz: This man rides you fast and hard. He loves pulling out moans and cries out of you, especially when they sound anything like his name. If he is in the mood he will take his time and slowly pull out of you only to slam back in and do that over and over until you are crying.

Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)

Din: Din definitely isn't much of a fan of quickies. The only time he takes advantage of them is if Grogu is napping and you both don't know when he's going to wake back up. Otherwise he prefers to take his time and enjoy you.

Boba: I have said it before and I will say it again. Boba likes to fuck you anywhere and everywhere, so quickies do happen often. Usually he comes and finds you in between meetings and just ruins you before walking away saying he'll finish up tonight. When he can he will drawn the quickie out as much as possible though, because he does like to watch you squirm.

Paz: This man is horny for you like 25/8. So if he can convince you to let him drag you away for a quickie, he fucking takes full advantage. The two of you have fucked in about every open room in the covert. Paz rides you hard and fast, leaving you dazed and panting. And with Paz loving holding against a wall well quickies usually consist of you in his arms helpless and only only to take what he is giving you.

R= Risk (do they like to try new things)

Din: Din is definitely the type to try anything once. But he does draw the line at hurting you in any way. But I think we can all agree that he is all for the risks of cumming inside of you.

Boba: This man lives for risks. He loves doing new things with you, though chances are he's already done them with others. I think Boba is also a slight sadist, so take that as you will.

Paz: Paz won't bring up anything unless you do, usually. Hes open to things, but he doesn't want to push you, so he just lets you lead what types of things happen in the bedroom. Like I said your pleasure is his pleasure, so as long as you are satisfied so is he.

S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)

Din: Din usually only lasts for two rounds, but those rounds are dragged out as long as he can take it. Like I said he likes to savor you, and even though he may not last all night, he puts his all into what he can.

Boba: This man will last for as long as he wants. He definitely takes a bit in between rounds because he's not as young as he used to be, but he will drag it out all night if he wants to, going multiple rounds.

Paz: How this man can go for as long as he can is a fucking mystery. Paz is fucking rearing to go 24/7. It doesn't matter if he just came or not, it takes no time for him to be standing at attention, ready to fill you again.

T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)

Din: I believe Din is a switch, and the idea of you using toys on him is some what interesting to him. He doesn't want to go too far, but you teasing him with a vibrator really turns him on. As for you, he much prefers to feel and tease you himself. That being said he's not afraid to use toys on you, he'd just rather not. He likes you to save the toys for when you both are having comm sex and he can watch you use them on yourself.

Boba: He does not like using toys on himself. That being said this man W I L L tease the fuck out of you using any and every toy he can and you let him use. Boba loves teasing you any way possible, and toys is just one of those ways.

Paz: Paz isn't really into toys himself, and doesn't really use them on you either. But, he loves watching you use them on yourself. He loves watching you split yourself open on a dido that is similar in size to his cock as he, fucks his fist.

U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)

Din: Din doesn't really tease per say. He likes to drag things out just to savor things, but he does let you cum as many times as you can, if anything he gets off to making you cum numerous times.

Boba: I have said it over and over, but Boba loves teasing you, he can and will tease you throughout the day just to keep you on edge, before wrecking you as soon as he comes to bed. Boba loves dragging your pleasure out and making you work for it.

Paz: Paz may tease you through words, but like I said your pleasure is his pleasure. So he prefers to just have you absolutely cumming every second he can.

V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)

Din: This man doesn't shut up when you are fucking, quite the opposite of his usual self. He rambles and talks dirty, praising you. He moans and groans and grunts all while egging you on. In the end he gets so lost in pleasure that he just says anything that comes to minds, and sometimes just spouts gibberish.

Boba: Boba isn't loud per say, but he does talk dirty A L O T. He loves saying anything he knows can get a reaction out of you. Talking about everything he wants to do to you, and how good you look while he wrecks you. Boba also makes the hottest grunting noises while he plows into you.

Paz: Paz doesn't talk as much as the other two, mainly only throwing out the occasion curse or praise in basic or mando'a. As for noises he can be quiet or loud, it all just depends. He mainly grunts and growls into your, ear but when he cums he moans as if he has experienced pleasure before right then.

W= Wild card (random sincannon of any sort)

Din: Din once railed you in the alleyway of a cantina because he got jealous of somebody flirting with you while he was taking care of a bounty. After he finished and came back he knocked the guy out and dragged you to the alley to remind you that you were his girl.

Boba: Boba likes fuckimg you while he is flying. Not cockwarming, full on fucking you, thrusting up into you teasing your clit, the whole nine yards. Especially if he's being chased or in a fight. Something about the thrill just gets him going.

Paz: Paz once made you sit on his hard cock for a full day with out moving. He made you cum numerous times and he told you if you could last all day he would reward you. Somehow you managed to wait all day, though you felt like you were dying towards the end. In the end your reward was a thorough fucking and a trip off planet where Paz took you to a hidden lake, where you both went skinny dipping and he fucked you multiple times again.

X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)

Din: I talked about this a bit before, but Din isn't necessarily huge, but he isn't small either. He's definitely bigger that average in both length and width. His cock also has a slight delicious curve that always helps with hitting your sweet spot perfectly.

Boba: This man is thiiicccckkk. His length is above average, but the thickness of him is what gets you every time. It shocks you over and over how he manages to shove his cock into you and how you can get your mouth around him. His cock is also has quite a bit of veins that stick out and it leans slightly to the left.

Paz: How this man walks around comfortably you will never fucking know. He is long enough that he comfortably can hit your cervix with every thrust and thick enough that you have to get used to the stretch every time. Paz is definitely a handful and a throatful.

Y= Yearning (sexdrive level)

Din: Din yearns for you pretty much anytime he can spare. He works a high stress job and with that honestly comes a higher sex drive. If he could fuck you all day he would, but unfortunately he can't.

Boba: This man is ready to go at the drop of a hat. He always wants to be with you in some way, even if it takes him a few minutes in between rounds, it doesn't mean he isn't ready to go again or keep you ready.He loves you and your body and he loves that you are his.

Paz: Like I said, Paz is ready to go 25/8. He constantly wants to be inside you fucking you until neither of you can walk. This man has one of the biggest sexdrives imaginable that its almost laughable.

Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)

Din: This man never sleeps okay, so give him a break. He manages to stay away long enough to clean you both up and then pull you close before passing out. And the is O K A Y, let the man sleep!

Boba: After, aftercare Boba tends to pull you into his chest and hold you close. He likes to listen to your breathing even out as you drift off, so he tends to just lay there and run his hand along your skin before slowly falling asleep once you do.

Paz: Its a toss up for Paz, he always goes the whole nine yards with aftercare, but after that, well thats up to fate. This man I could be bone tired and he would all but collapse on top of you and pass out with his head nestled on top of your heart. Other times he enjoys getting to hold you close in his arms, and just enjoy the peace before slowly drifting off.

#anon thots #n*fw alphabet #din djarin x reader #din x reader #boba fett x reader #boba x reader #paz vizsla x reader #paz x reader

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t4tharuspex · 4 years ago

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house of mirrors

2.5k word mlp fanfic. dont judge me >.>

summary: rarity and twilights visit to the crystal empire is more eventful then either had hoped. somethings wrong with the castle, and more importantly, somethings wrong with shining armor...

content warnings: fear of transphobia (no actual rtansphobia bc this is the colorful horses show)

Rarity held back a whinny of delight as she trotted off the train and into the crystal empire station. Everywhere she looked she was dazzled by gleaming crystals of every color refracting rainbows on every surface while somehow remaining the farthest thing from gaudy. Starting to feel faint from excitement, she leaned on twilight's shoulder as her eyes fluttered.

“Rarity come on!” The alicorn laughed as she helped her friend upright. “We’ve hardly been in the empire for a minute! Save your fainting for the ceremony.”

The white horse perked up immediately at the reminder of what she had come here for: she was to assist Cadence and Shining Armor in the preparations for the newborn princesses presentation to the public! She cantered in place with excitement, lifting twilight's luggage with her magic and running off to their suite in the castle with twilight hot on her heels.

The suite was spacious with generous decor in simple light colors. the main focal point of the suite was the giant bay windows which cast giant swathes of warm light across the room. upon closer inspection rarity was amazed to discover that the windows were made entirely of cut crystal rather than glass. the faint color of the gemstone created a slight cast on the light coming in, giving a view of the city below that was ever so slightly tinted. this realization recontextualized the furnishing in rarities mind: it wasn't dull and plain, but simply a blank canvas for whatever the crystal windows brought in. a strange method of decor indeed. or was it a response to the material conditions of living in a house of crystal?

When the two had almost settled into their apartment, they were startled from their rest by a brisk knock at the door.

“A summons for princess twilight sparkle,” a booming voice called from behind the door. “You are needed urgently by princess mi amore cadenza for matters concerning his highness the prince.”

Worry flooded the purple alicorns features. “Urgent? Then I guess I had better go now.” She magically gathered a few items into her saddlebag and gave a parting smile to her friend as she was rushed away by royal guards.

Shocked by the suddenness of it all, rarity let out a chuff and sat squarely on her quarters. Was shining armor alright? she wanted to put her anxieties to rest, but it was plainly obvious that she hadn't been invited. would the entire trip to the empire consist of her sitting alone in her room while twilight attended to all matters of actual importance?

Trying to shake the thought from her head, rarity got up and left her room to explore the castle. It truly was extravagant, with pillars of crystal stretching to the high vaulted ceilings spreading refractions of glittering iridescence that made the whole space seem somehow both extraordinary glamorous and warm and homey. Inspiration flooded her mind as she trotted the decadently decorated halls. She just couldn’t wait to get back to her studio and put this inspiration to good use.

She was halted in her exploration when her ears picked up familiar voices talking from behind an ajar door. She knew it was wrong to eavesdrop, but she couldn’t help but listen in...

"-i don't know what to do twilight, he hadn't seemed this off for years, and now flurry is here and hes completely absent!"

"i don't know cadence, he hasn't said anything in his letters-"

“- all I’m saying is maybe you could get through to him! He won’t talk to me, or anypony else here. you're my last hope. maybe hell listen to his best friend”

“i've never been able to help him in one of these episodes before. if he’s not ready to talk then confronting him will only make him more defensive.”

“That’s a risk we’ll have to take. I’m worried for my husband twilight.” Rarity leaned on the door to hear better as the princesses voice dropped, “please, if not for shining armor, or for me, then for flurry heart. She deserves to have a father who can dedicate himself to her, not one who’s so preoccupied that he can hardly look after her.”

There was a sigh, then rarity heard twilight speak “very well. I’ll do this for her. Maybe that will get through to my brother.”

Sudden approaching hoofsteps started rarity out of her reverie. She stumbled backwards just in time to miss the swinging door as twilight entered the hall. “Rarity? I thought you were still in the room? Oh well, I need your help anyway." She looked over her shoulder as if to make sure they were alone. "I think somethings wrong with my brother. It's possible that one of the unreformed changelings has taken his place to try too take advantage of the upcoming love boom from flurry hearts royal presentation."

Rarity was taken aback by her friends leap of logic. "Doesn't that seem like an extreme suspicion? Having a baby is stressful enough for normal ponies, I cant imagine what kind of pressure would be on a royal prince."

"I don't know rarity, after what happened at the wedding we can't be too careful. I hope its just nerves and parental stress, but we have to expect the worse if we want to be prepared to handle it."

rarity nodded. "alright, then let's find your brother."

The two ponies galloped down the halls in search of the princes chambers. the crystal walls seemed to burn with energy, the warm cast of light from earlier having turned harsh and almost too bright. rarity wondered absently if this was a product of the changing time of day or a trick of the mind. could the walls of a castle really know how somepony felt, and shine it back at them like a diamond mirror?

a distant commotion pricked the two mares ears. "this way!" twilight called as she rounded a corner, dashing after the sound with rarity at her side.

the two skidded to a stop when they reached an open doorway from which the sound seemed to emit. with a flick of her ear twilight motioned for rarity to follow her and the two cautiously made their way into the room. twilight emitted a small light from her horn, then lit the rooms lamp once she could find it on the wall. with the room lit rarity immediately got an impression of drabness and depression, the tightly draped windows letting in no light and the gemstone walls shining the same dim echo back and forth across the space, almost seeming to beg for the light to go out again.

twilight gestured with her chin to the curtained bed at the center of the room, grabbing one edge of the curtain with her magic and indicating for rarity to take hold of the other. once the unicorn had secured the curtain, twilight gave a sharp nod and both ponies tugged their curtain aside, revealing a stallion-sized lump that spectacularly failed to live up to either mares fearful imagination.

the blue-maned unicorn sat up at once, alarmed by the sudden intrusion. he seemed to calm down slightly when he recognized his sister, but he remained guarded. "twily? rarity? what are you two doing in my private chambers?"

"well to be fair," rarity gestured back at the entrance, "you did leave your door open."

"cadence must have done that when she left." shining armor gruffed. "that doesn't answer my question though: what are you doing here?"

twilight stepped forward with a cautious expression, ready to fight if this really was a changeling. "were just here to check up on you, see how youre handling the upcoming princess presentation" it was clear that twilight was being reserved with her supposed brother.

then, shining armors eyes met hers, and her suspicion evaporated. that peculiar sadness that had haunted her brother in her young filliehood, then she had thought he'd escaped when he found happiness in cadences arms, was burning hot tears from shining armors eyes. she had never seen a pain like that before or since. if there was anything twilight was certain of, it was that this pony was the same one she had known her whole life. but the question still lingered, was he the real shining?

completely without her permission, tears began to well in twilight's eyes. "oh shinning, whats happened to you?"

her brother choked on a sob. "I'm sorry twily, you were never supposed to see me like this. no one was. i should be able to hold it together for you... for cadence... for my daughter..."

"shining nopony wants you to hide any part of you! we want to know when you're hurting so we can help. i had thought you'd healed from whatever's causing this pain but it seems to be back and i wont let you hide it from me this time!" the purple alicorn sniffled as tears streaked down her muzzle. "please shining, tell me whats wrong."

The stallion nervously rubbed his hooves together and cast his gaze to the ground. "i don't even know where to start."

"the beginning," twilight proposed. "i want to know everything. you cant heal until you let your wounds be seen."

shining nodded and took a deep breath, "its just that, when you were a fillie, everyone expected me to be the perfect big brother, and i never measured up to that expectation. it was like being thrown into the ocean with no idea how to swim, and everypony kept insisting that i was a fish and i should know how, but i didn't. then in the royal guard it didn't matter how i felt as long as i followed orders and played the role, so that's what i did. i don't know if it actually quieted the pain or just forced me to ignore it, but for a few years i thought maybe i could live with it. cadence was the only pony i've ever met who could make that noise in my brain silent; with her it didn't matter if I wasn't brother enough fro you or stallion enough for the military. i was always enough for her, no questions asked. i was so happy when we got married that i could almost forget about that feeling, telling myself it was a phase i'd outgrown. but now with flurry heart, all that anxiety is back. its like no matter what i do ill never be able to be a good father for her. i love her more than anything, id do anything for her, but it isn't enough. i'm not enough." the white unicorns neck gave way as he succumbed to quiet sobs, his once proud chin quivering and brushing his chest.

"shining... i..." twilight was speechless. what could be said? her brothers pain went far beyond anything she knew how to mend. at that moment being the princess of friendship meant nothing; she couldn't even move herself to speak in the face of her first best friends deep sorrow.

"i hope im not overstepping here," a timid voice chimed in, startling both siblings as rarity cleared her throat. "but i think i may have an idea as to the source and solution of your distress."

"rarity?" shining choked, "how could you possibly know how i feel?"

the mare nervously flicked her mane with an idle hoof. "there's a lot you don't know about me." turning to twilight, she asked "would it be alright if the prince and i could have a moment alone?"

Twilight nodded and bowed out of the room, and the two remaining ponies listened to her hoofbeats echo down and again further down the labyrinthine crystal hallway, which now seemed to glitter coldly like a sterile knife where it once had gleamed so warmly. rarity shivered at the thought of living in a place like this, which could transform before your eyes depending only on ones own emotion. that was, she mused, the property of crystal. it created nothing, only reflecting what was cast onto it. in a dimly lit cave the finest diamond was often mistaken by novices for a common quartz, but at the heart of a kingdom built on a foundation of admiration it gleamed on every surface like the morning dew on a freshly budded rose. this castle wasn't a cold cage or a warm embrace, it was an endless hall of mirrors, each perfectly angled to show you the deepest darkest crevice of your heart.

"i understand why it tortures you to live here." rarity whispered. "each surface gleams to a pristine chrome finish, yet the face it reflects is fundamentally and inconceivably wrong."

shining armor appeared startled, "that's exactly how it feels. how do you know? is it that obvious how miserable i am?

the mare shook her head, "only to those who have felt the same misery. shining armor, i once lived the same life as you, albeit in a much more drab estate. I felt that at every turn i failed at the very task of existing as myself, my relationships suffered because it pained me to view myself as a part of them. mirrors became my enemy because i couldn't face the pony looking back at me. the stallion looking back at me."

a small gasp escaped the taller unicorns lips "what-"

"think about it shining," rarity pleaded shakily, " everything you cant stand to be: brother, father, soldier, prince. they all have one thing in common." tears welled in her eyes and choked her throat "you cant run from it shining. it never stops. you only make yourself more and more miserable. you can cover as many mirrors as you like but eventually you're going to look around and realize that you're still the same pony you hated, standing alone in complete darkness."

something clicked behind the other ponys eyes. "no, it cant be... what about cadence? flurry? twilight? i cant throw all of them away because i have some twisted dream of living as a-"

"-you're not sick shining. maybe a bit different, but there's nothing wrong with you. you'll find that the friends worth keeping don't care at all. they're suffering by watching you suffer; freeing yourself will only free them too."

"i have no idea where to even start though. aren't i a bit too old for this?" shinings eyes were wide and scared.

"i would love to personally see to all the aesthetic changes you wish for, if you'll have me. you really couldn't ask for a more qualified personal stylist. and as for the social shift, you've got the princesses of love and friendship in your corner."

"but that's just it: they're not in my corner. they may as well be on the other side of equestria, or a gaping cavern. how can i even know that they'll still see me as me?"

"i know how scary it is, especially in the early days, but i can personally account for twilights acceptance. and as for cadence, i'm pretty sure they don't go around giving titles like the princess of love to ponies who cant accept others for something so harmless as gender." her smile faded and her face grew a bit serious "i can be there with you if you want. like i said, i know how scary it is." she placed a hoof on top of the other mares own.

She smiled. "I think id like that."

#mlp fanfic #mlp fanfiction #rarity #twilight sparkle #shining armor #princess cadence #mlp trans #trans shining armor #transfem shining armor

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thelordofdarkreunion · 4 years ago

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The Misty Planet

Here we go. By request, a story (or, in this case, story line) where the Scoundrels meet Deus from the Empyrean Iris stories by starr-fall-knight-rise. Things play out a little differently here, because this time, the Great Game has begun, and there are now more players...

“The game is afoot.” -Sherlock Holmes

The view from the starship’s bridge was quite the sight to behold. A massive red star, glowing with power, shone from outside. The windows were tinted, of course, to allow the individuals inside to see without damaging their vision. But, mighty as the star was, it was another structure that the individuals were examining. The second star. Smaller, but no less beautiful than the first. This one, though, had strange, alien structures orbiting it. Which was why the group was here.

“So. We’re the bloody universe’s problem solvers, I suppose,” muttered Thomas Drake, itching his nose with the edge of a black-gloved finger.

“Well, we were the first to make contact with each other and the other galaxies after the… time-screwy thing. We also prevented the attack on the Citadel, and found out who was behind it,” replied Shepard. “Still working on finding the Shadow Broker and why he… or she, possibly, would want to kill the members of almost every government in the universe.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. We’ll figure that one out later. One problem at a time,” sighed Krirk.

“I’m good with that,” said Drake. “Now. On to business. Admiral Vir. Why the hell are we here?” Vir walked up to the viewing glass and let out a low sigh.

“Well, basically, here’s the deal. My crew and I came to the Polaris star, which most of you ought to recognize as it exists in all of your galaxies except one, and saw this weird, unknown structure on Polaris Ab, the smaller star of the two main ones. We have also discovered a planet nearby.” Vir went to a console and pulled up an image, taken from the ground of a strange looking alien wasteland. He let out a deep breath before going on. “This was a picture taken on a very similar planet that my crew found in the past. The two seem to be related.”

“I have a bad feeling about this,” muttered Solo. Cooper gave him a blank stare.

“Do you ever not?”

“Occasionally,” huffed Solo. “When we aren’t going to mysterious planets covered with red mist and big black pillars.”

“I agree. The whole thing is rather… ominous,” said Shepard.

“Well, if in doubt, we nuke the whole thing and be done with it,” said Drake. Vir gave him a long-suffering side glance.

“No. We are not going to nuke it,” he said. “There is too much information at stake.” He sighed again. “On that planet, we, or some of my crew and I, received visions of an entity called ‘Deus.’ What Deus is or what it wants we do not know. However, we believe that these planets are somehow aligned.” The holographic image changed, showing the Polaris system interlinked with the other strange, red planet, the Drev homeoworld, the Celzex homeworld, and Earth. “What this place is, who created the massive structure on Polaris Ab, and why these systems are all interlinked is what we are here to find out,” finished Vir.

“Visions?” asked Cain. Not good. Most definitely not good.

“Yes,” replied Vir. “Not harmful or long lasting, though.” The group was silent for a moment, as they decided on how to approach this. Throughout his career as a ship’s captain, and later, admiral, Vir usually operated on his best judgement. While occasionally shaky at times, it usually won the day. However, when wasn’t sure what to do, he usually asked himself one question: what would Captain Kirk do? Well, Kirk was now here, in the same room, and apparently he didn’t have any clue either. Might as well find out what he thinks, I suppose. “Captain Kirk? You seem to be in these sorts of situations a lot. What do you think we should do?” Kirk looked over with a frown.

“We should investigate,” he said finally. “I don’t particularly like it, never have, never will, but we have to see what’s going on all the same.” The group nodded to each other.

“Cooper and Solo, you stay up here in case anything… funny goes on,” ordered Vir. The two nodded their consent. “The rest of us… prepare. Meet you on these coordinates on planet in 45 minutes.”

Aboard the Apocalypse

“Right you sorry lot! We are going planetside to investigate a bunch of alien architecture. There may or may not be hostiles, but this place gives me the creeps,” announced Drake. The Third Squad of armsmen looked over to him. Lucky them. They drew duty rotation when we’re above disturbing planet central. “I’ve been around long enough, seen enough, heard enough stories, and watched enough horror movies to know what’s probably going to happen.” As he said this, a pair of robotic arms locked his armor in place. The armsmen were gearing up and checking their weapons, but still listening intently. “You are going to bring full combat gear, full weapons, the works! The whole works! Everyone is going to be wearing fully sealed armor, and carry an extra respirator on hand, just in case. You are also bringing provisions, again, just in case.” Drake grabbed his plasma rifle and double, then triple checked it. He then keyed his comms. “Richter. Ordelphine. If for some reason we do not make it back, you are not to send any more soldiers down. You have full authorizations for Genesis 19 protocols. Use your best judgement. I trust you two more than anyone else in this fleet, so do not allow them to override you. Hopefully it doesn’t come to that.” On the other side of the comms line, Richter and Ordelphine winced. Genesis 19 was code for the complete nuclear annihilation of anything on a planet deemed to be a threat. Drake wasn’t taking any chances here, it seemed.

Aboard the Normandy

Shepard took up a heavy machine gun and checked the ammunition. This place reminded him too much of old Prothean planets, and the beacons located on them. The massive black pillars and the visions Vir and his crew got from being near them were too much like the beacon he had touched on Eden Prime… He still had nightmares about that mission. This time, he was taking no chances. Instead of taking a full team with him, he decided to go with what he normally did, and take three ground crew members. All were carefully selected. Garrus, because he wouldn’t trust anyone else to have his back as well as the Turian sniper. Samara. An ancient Asari biotic. None more powerful or calm in a crisis. Lastly, Mordin. A Salarian scientist. The only expert he had at the moment who might be able to figure out what these ruins were. He hoped it would be enough.

Aboard the Enterprise

Kirk, Spock and Master Chief stood next to the cylindrical grey transporters of the Enterprise. The two Starfleet officers stood, checking their phasers and respirator masks, making sure nothing would go wrong once they got planetside. Alongside them were a group of low ranking redshirts (hopefully they wouldn’t die this time, though Kirk was less than hopeful) and the massive, green-clad figure of the Chief. Said figure was currently looking over all of his weapons, making sure they were all there and battle ready. Out of all the Scoundrels, it went without saying that he was the most physically powerful. It would be his duty to eradicate anything particularly big or nasty they found on the planet. If, of course, there was actually anything there. The fleet’s scanners had picked up no life signs, but everyone was still on edge. Kirk nodded and the group stepped into the transporter.

“Beam us up, Scotty.”

Aboard the Omen

Commissar Cain leaned against a shuttle in the Omen’s massive hangar bay. Of course, as the regiment’s champion of all things strange and alien, he had been chosen to lead the surface party. He couldn’t say no. How would it look to refuse to partake in a mission of this calibre in front of not only the Valhallans, but the Omen’s crew as well? He would lose his status if he did. So, it was with a very heavy heart that he warily donned his tattered set of carapace armor, strapped on his weapons, and made his way to the hangar. Sargent Grifen was already there, along with her squad. At least it was Grifen. Cain had gone through a necron tomb with her squad and lived. If he trusted anyone in the regiment with this mission, it was her. And, of course, Jurgen. Cain’s aide stood by his side, his ever present smell lingering in the air. In his hands he held his melta gun, a weapon that had saved both their lives on numerous occasions. Cain was sure Jurgen had other trinkets hidden in his pouches, in addition to the las rifle slung across his back. Jurgen was ever prepared for anything.

Cain looked up and over to where Admiral Vir entered the hangar. He was backed up by a full contingent of marines and members of the Drev clan, followed by a few of the ship’s scientists. Vir was wearing his suit of Iron Eye armor, fully insulated against the outside atmosphere. Inside it, he was one of the group’s resident super soldiers, able to perform feats no ordinary person could ever aspire to. Vir nodded as the Drev came to ease, resting their spears on the floor, and the marines checked their rifles one last time.

“Let’s get going then, shall we?”

On the Planet

The Omen’s shuttle had landed in some sort of marshland, brackish water reaching up to the group’s shins. Red mist stretched as far as the eye could see. Black plants and a few totally black, dead trees littered the ground. The Milano was parked nearby, on a larger solid stretch of ground, and Quill lounged outside it while his crew looked merely bored at the lack of action on this strange planet. The Valhallans filed out of the shuttle, looking apprehensive in contrast to the Quill’s boredom and Vir’s excitement over exploring new planets. A tiled black road led to some sort of black mass in the distance. A city, if Vir had to guess. How exciting!

A high whining sound rang out, and Kirk, Spock, and Master Chief teleported in alongside a contingent of Starfleet red-shirts. The Chief stood statue still, weapons ready, as the Starfleet operatives joined the crew of the Omen in examining the black plant life that dotted the ground and the spaces in between the road tiles.

The roar of shuttle engineers pierced the air, and the Normandy’s sleek shuttle made its descent alongside the Apocalypse’s heavy gunship transport. Shepard, Garrus, and two aliens Vir and Cain didn’t recognize stepped out of the first, while Drake and a full contingent of armsmen.

One of Shepard’s crew, a Salarian, by the looks of him, made a b-line to the scientists examining the plants, while Shepard and the other two greeted Quill. The Apocalypse’s armsmen disembarked quickly, weapons at the ready as if they were on an active battlefield. Drake made a circular motion to the shuttle pilot, who gave a thumbs up and immediately took off. Drake approached Cain and gave a curt nodd.

“This is your galaxy, Vir, so you’re in charge, but I don’t like the looks of this place. I don’t want to spend a second longer here than I need to.” Cain nodded.

“I agree. This reminds me too much of some of the… stranger things I’ve seen.” Vir pointed to the buildings on the horizon.

“I understand,” he said reassuringly. “Plus, we need to investigate that way anyway. Let's move on.” Vir made a motion to the scientists still crouched along the beginning of the pathway. Dr. Wilson, one of the Omen’s scientists, looked up and held out a vial of the black plant.

“These are all dead. But they’re remarkably well preserved…”

“Wilson is right. Planet is dead. Was once alive, but now everything here is lifeless. Strangely well preserved, though,” rattled off the Salarian, almost without any breaths.

“I’m liking this less and less,” muttered Cain.

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The group had walked the long titled road in silence, the red mist swirling around them. At one point, there was a rain storm, and Vir had ordered everyone inside one of the decayed buildings they had finally reached. Everyone had taken it differently. Shepard and his crew looked apprehensive. The crews of the Omen and Enterprise were looking over everything with curiosity. Master Chief, Drake, Cain, the Valhallans, and the Apocalypse’s armsmen were fanned out, weapons raised, clearing corners and rooms as if they were expecting something to pop out of the dark any minute. Quill and his Guardians merely looked bored. Again.

They had moved on further since then, into the city itself. Huge black buildings, in varying states of decay, loomed ominously through the fog. The scientists were all muttering to each other as the took readings, while the soldiers had all unconsciously moved into wedge formations. Drake’s gunship whined overhead, ready to provide close air support at his request. Some might have called it overkill and over-caution, but Drake hadn’t lived this long by not taking such measures.

At this point, Vir was starting to get creeped out. Everything here was… wrong, somehow. It was like a faint childhood memory that one knew they remembered, but couldn’t actually remember. The place was… familiar. Sacred, somehow. In addition, it was a decayed city with no signs of life, and no signs of what had happened to it.

“Anyone know what might have happened here?” he whispered to the rest of the group. Somehow, it felt wrong to raise his voice.

“No. Not the Borg’s style,” replied Kirk.

“Reapers would have been more thorough,” whispered back Shepard.

“I have no idea…” trailed off Cain. In actuality, he had a few ideas. None of them good. None of them he could say, either.

They came to a central spot, the roads all branching into what looked to be a main square. A large building rose up in front of them, looking distinctly human in style.

“Should we investigate?” asked Shepard.

“Yes, and no,” replied Drake. “I think some of us should stay here, outside, to make sure no one attacks our rear, while others go inside to investigate.”

“That makes… tactical sense,” replied Vir with a nodd. “Alright. Quill and Chief, along with some of the Enterprise’s crew and Valhallans, stay here. The rest of you, follow me.”

The building, as it turned out, was some sort of massive laboratory. There were test tubes of strange, glowing liquid, some form of massive, incomplete mech hanging on calves, and endless rows of filing cabinets. There were huge factory floors, complete with conveyor belts, all decayed and rusted into ignominy, and rooms filled with rows upon rows of vats of sludge. With every passing room, the entering group got more and more apprehensive. What the hell is this place? What were they doing? Vir wanted to yell. It was all so very strange. So very… creepy.

This went on for some time, the invaders of this strange sanctum touching nothing, until they got to a central room. The heavy blast doors that should have protected it were open. Not a good sign. In the center of the room was a pedestal, and upon the pedestal, a glowing white ball.

“Safeties off,” hissed Drake. “If there’s an ambush coming, now’s as good a time as any.” Vir, Wilson, Kirk, and Shepard walked up to the ball.

“What the hell is this?” asked Shepard warily.

“I don’t know,” replied Vir. “Maybe… some sort of artifact? Communication device? No clue.” Wilson reached out.

“Don’t touch it!” screamed Cain and Shepard as one. It was too late. As soon as Wilson’s skin made contact with the glowing ball, a blast of pure white energy rang throughout the room, knocking everyone off their feet. Soldiers flew in tangles of weapons, and scientists stumbled and knocked into walls.

Cain slid on the floor, and shook his head a moment to clear it of the force the ball had unleashed. He looked around. The Valhallans stood up, checking their weapons to make sure they were still working. Shepard’s team stood up, Garrus bringing his rifle around and Samara glowing with blue energy. Kril and the Salarian scientist stood up. Rigaldis, leader of the Apocalypse armsmen, pushed himself to his feet. All of the aliens were fine. All of the Imperial humans were fine. But the rest, the other humans… Cain checked Shepard’s neck for a pulse. It was there. They were all alive, but completely unconscious.

“What the hell was that?” asked one of the Valhallans.

“Don’t know,” murmured Cain as he studied the unconscious humans. With a suddenness that caused the medic checking him to recoil, Vir’s one organic eye snapped open. It looked straight ahead, completely unseeing, and seemed to have an incandescent white glow about it. The medic waved his hand in front of Vir. He didn’t blink.

“Deus…” he murmured, before falling once more into unconsciousness. Everyone looked around uneasily.

“What do we do?” asked one of the red shirts.

“Don’t touch that,” Cain pointed at the white orb, “But bring them outside. We can’t leave them here.”

Outside was calm, or, as calm as a planet filled with roiling red fog could be. Quill and Master Chief walked up to the group, noticing the bodies flung across many of the soldiers’ backs.

“What the hell happened?” asked the Chief.

“One of the scientists touched some sort of strange white orb,” replied Cain. “It knocked them all unconscious.”

“We noticed some sort of burst of white energy,” said Quill. “Didn’t know what it was. Now we do, I guess,” he added with a shrug.

“What do we do now?” asked the Chief once more.

“It’s a strange, alien artifact, and they seem to be… possessed,” replied Cain. He didn’t want to say it, but there was no avoiding it. All of the unconscious humans had a white glow around their eyes.

“Hmm,” muttered Quill. “Possessed… I think I know someone who might be able to help us here,” he announced after a moment’s deliberation. “I’ll send a message to him.”

“I need to send a message too,” said Cain. “We need to call in the experts.”

Stay tuned, because next time, the experts will arrive, and things are about to get pretty cool...

As per usual, none of these characters except Drake and his crew belong to me. If you have any questions, comments, criticisms, requests, or concerns, please, feel free to ask!

#stories #story #writing #my writing #magnificent scoundrels #humans are weird #earth is space australia #mcu #warhammer 40k #empyrean iris #crossover #crossover story #star trek

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something-tofightfor · 4 years ago

Text

Magnetic; Din’s POV - Part 1 (Chapters 1-2)

Pairing: None.

Word Count: 4,400

Rating: None, really. This is pretty general. Din’s thinking about women, but it’s not graphic in any way.

Summary: Din’s adjusting to life on Mandalore as the Mand’alor, but his mind is constantly elsewhere. After a year, he receives a transmission from Luke Skywalker that changes everything.

Author’s note:

Hello friends! As I’ve been writing Magnetic, I’ve realized that I want to take a look at things from Din’s perspective. I’m not sure that I’ll cover everything in the story this way, but there are certain moments (especially ones coming up) that you’ll definitely benefit from being in the man’s head while reading. These will always come after the corresponding parts of the story, because I want you, as a reader to experience things first ... but I promise, these will make things that happen in the main storyline make more sense. IDK. Maybe this is dumb. Maybe no one cares ... but I do. And I think that since Din spends so much time in his own head, we should too.

If you want to be added or removed from my tag list, please let me know - it’s open.

His favorite part of the day was returning to his quarters and locking the door behind him. Even though his schedule wasn’t exactly full, the Mandalorian was usually exhausted by the end of the day - especially when those days extended well into the nighttime hours. And when she’s here? It’s worse.

He stood at the foot of his bed, carefully removing his armor piece by piece and stacking it on the shelving that was built into the wall behind him. Working his way down his body - beginning with the pauldrons on his shoulders, the man saved his helmet for last - as he always did - hesitating before removing it, but not because he didn’t want to. Did I forget anything? He sighed, pressing the button on the bottom edge and lifting the beskar from his head, taking two steps and setting it down on the the table next to his pillow without looking down. No. After the reluctant removal on Morak and the no-hesitation answer to Grogu’s silent request on the light cruiser, the man found that taking his helmet off came easier for him both in private and in front of those that had previously seen his face. Though that number was still small enough to count on two hands, it was more people than he’d ever thought would see him for who he was: not the stoic, beskar encased warrior he presented to the galaxy, but the emotional man that he’d pretended didn’t exist for the better part of his life. But it was for the kid. All of it.

Undoing the closures on his flight suit, he stepped out of it and tossed it into the bin full of clothing leaning against the wall and raised both arms, stretching. There was no reason for him to spend each day fully armored, but for him, it was as much a habit as reciting the four most important words of his creed had become. This is the Way.

The area of Mandalore they occupied wasn’t dangerous, at least in the sense that they had to worry about an attack from others. Despite the fact that there were Mandalorians and residents of the planet’s larger cities that were still sympathetic to the Imperial remnants, no one paid any mind to their small group taking over an outpost hours by ship or speeder from the capital city of Sundari. It was an arrangement that worked for him, but he knew that others in his group were growing tired of the waiting and planning, Bo-Katan included. Mandalorians were few in number, but he’d met many more of them than he ever thought could exist in the months spent on the planet’s surface. Some were like him, keeping their faces covered at all times; a few of them had even been members of the Nevarro covert. Others were like Bo-Katan and Koska and Axe; they’d sworn the Creed but still showed their faces. It was a lot for the man to come to terms with, but as he too had removed his helmet and exposed his face to other living things, he knew that it wasn’t his place to judge the way that they lived their lives. After all, under the beskar, we’re all just …

He sighed, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes and then dragging one hand down over his mouth and chin, stroking the short beard he’d allowed to grow. It was new for him, like most things on Mandalore were, but with no worry of unending fighting and constantly chasing bounties, there was no need for him to worry as much about the comfort level of spending long, difficult hours beneath the helmet. He’d let his hair grow, too, the ends curling down and around his ears and against his neck. Even Cara had commented on it the last time she’d visited the planet to update them on Nevarro’s progress, and he hadn’t been able to hold back the quiet laugh or keep the blush from rising to his cheeks at her words - the surprisingly positive reaction to his ‘new look’. Just a man. He sighed. Even though I hate it.

In the year since Grogu had left with the Jedi, the Mandalorian had learned many things about himself and about the galaxy, but he was still coming to terms with the way it felt for others to see his reactions to their words. Used to hiding behind the visor, each day was another learning experience for him - but they were also the reason he hadn’t committed to taking the helmet off for good. No one was pressuring him to, and it wasn’t even true that the other Mandalorians needed to see his face to trust him, to believe in him, but he knew that it would have helped. I’m not ready yet. Closing his eyes, he bit down on his lower lip, drawing it into his mouth. For the first few months, he’d dealt with the raging loneliness he felt by hunting more bounties, Karga hesitant but in the end willing to give him more pucks. He’d also found ways to keep busy that had nothing to do with bounties and everything to do with the most basic human needs and desires.

He’d spent countless hours in the company of women - other Mandalorians, a Twi’lek that had reminded him too much of Xi’an for him to go through with anything, Morganians, Kiffar, a few human women on Coruscant and Naboo … but none of them filled the empty spaces in his chest or his mind in quite the same way the Child had. They were distractions - nothing more - and even though they sought him out more frequently and warmed up to him more easily when they knew he was the Mand’alor, it still meant nothing to him. Mand’alor. He scoffed at the word, laying back on the bed and folding an arm beneath his head. The word still struck him each time he thought or heard it. It was his title - rightful because of the battle he’d fought and won with Gideon, but still not one that he wanted. But the galaxy - and the Way of the Mandalore didn’t care what a single man wanted. So he dutifully spent each day with the blade clipped to his belt, though he’d only ignited it a few times following the light cruiser and wasn’t comfortable using it. I will be. It will happen. He learned more about the planet and the people and their history, and he spent time with Bo-Katan and her crew, took an active part in the planning for their future. The ultimate goal was to retake Sundari, but that couldn’t happen until they were truly ready, and all corners of the galaxy had been searched for others to join their cause. It was a waiting game, and one thing that the Mandalorian was good at was waiting.

He’d waited for his parents to come back and rescue him from the bunker. He’d waited for bounties to show themselves. Waited for the repercussions of rescuing the kid from the Client and the doctor. Waited for the day when his quest came to an end and he reunited Grogu with his kind.

But the waiting on Mandalore - for whatever would come next - was truly wearing on Din. Maybe if it was my home, then I … But he sighed, turning his head to the side at the sight of a blinking red light reflecting off of the shining surface of his helmet. Who would leave a message? Din sat up again, reaching for the device on the tabletop and pulling it into his lap. Cara would have tried the ship. I just talked to Bo-Katan. Karga wouldn’t… Frowning into the darkness, he pressed play. There was silence for a few seconds, but then at the sound of the voice coming through the small speaker, the Mandalorian swore under his breath, fatigue all but gone. Skywalker. “”I’m hoping this message reaches you, Mandalorian. This isn’t an update like the others I’ve sent. This is …” There was a long pause and Din heard a slow exhale. “This is different.” Different? Is the kid… “Grogu’s been struggling. Not physically, but … mentally. We - the other Jedi Masters - have talked about it, and agree that he needs to see you again, to spend time with you. It’s been a year since you’ve seen each other, and we… I think that it’ll help him one way or another.” Luke paused again and Din lowered his face into his hands, the tips of his fingers gripping the ends of his hair tightly. This isn’t … he … the kid… I… “And I don’t mean a few days, either. I’m thinking long term. You know how to reach me, Mandalorian. I’ll be waiting.” The transmission cut off there, the light going dark. But Din saw none of it, his eyes closed and hands still in place. Seeing … seeing the kid again? Can I? Should I? He raised his head, looking up and into the darkness. He wanted to; there was no question about it. The seed had been planted - if Luke and the other Jedi thought that Grogu needed time away, time spent with him, who was he to say no? But … He looked around the room, sparsely furnished - barely more welcoming than the sleeping quarters on the Razor Crest or the Razor II - and groaned. Can’t bring the kid here right away, can I? There was too much to consider; Bo-Katan’s plans, Din’s responsibilities, the future of an entire race of people and their planet… but each of those things was no more important to him than the last, especially at the thought of Grogu’s wide eyes looking up at him and his weight settled against the crook of Din’s arm. It’s something to think about, Din admitted to himself as he put the device back onto the table and laid back, the arm back beneath his head. Just to think about it. Like always, it took him long minutes to fall asleep, and when he finally did, his dreams were filled with the sound of Grogu’s quiet coos. --- But upon waking up the following morning, Din realized that no matter how much he wanted to see Grogu in person again, he had to do what was right for the kid. Even if it means… He dressed slowly, pulling on his armor piece by piece, saving the helmet for last again. Once dressed, he sat back on the edge of the bed and picked up the device, turning it over in his hands. I need to do this. Switching it from recording audio to a video reply, the man set the device down, squaring his shoulders and spoke out loud, commanding it to begin recording.

“Master Skywalker. My quest was to bring Grogu to his kind, and that’s what I did.” He paused, thankful that his face was hidden, along with the trembling of his upper lip. “When you came and took him from Moff Gideon’s light cruiser, I completed that quest. He was … he is safe with you, with the Jedi. You’ve updated me on his progress, and I thank you for that, but …” His shoulders slumped, and even though he had to fight to get the next words out, he managed. “This is The Way. I don’t want to …dank farrik.” Lowering his helmet toward his chest, he finally continued. “I just want what’s best for the kid. That’s all I …” Say it. You have to say it. “You know how to reach me. I’ll be waiting.”

But he hadn’t said what he needed to.

It wasn’t an answer - Din knew that. It wasn’t an outright refusal - he knew that, too. But it was an out for Skywalker, proof that the Mandalorian wasn’t as selfish as he felt, as willing to drop everything and fly to wherever he needed to be to see the kid again. But I am. I just needed to… He didn’t give himself a chance to second guess the words he’d spoken, instead typing in the necessary information and sending the transmission. Before the device had beeped to confirm, Din was already heading for the door, needing to face the day and deal with whatever was expected of him, keeping his mind from the device … and any possible response. This is the Way.

---

His resolve only lasted until the middle of the night, Din finally returning to his quarters and beginning the ritual of removing the armor from his body. He didn’t even look at the table until it was time to take the helmet off, and he froze at the sight of another blinking light. Skywalker sent a message back. He hesitated then, hand held above the device, and without speaking, Din turned to the shelving on the far wall, his hand digging into the pouch on his belt, fingers curling around the familiar spherical shape there. Did I ruin everything, kid? Is Skywalker going to tell me that the offer isn’t… The metal cool against his palm, Din once again walked the short distance to the bed, keeping the knob held tightly in one hand and grabbing for the comm device with the other. “Only one way to find out.”

The quiet of the room gave him the ability to hear each of the Jedi’s words clearly, the man not stumbling over them a single time. Mandalorian. If you’re willing to listen before you make your decision, there’s someone here much more convincing than me. It’ll only take a few minutes, but I know you’ll want to hear it. I don’t know you well, but I know what it sounds like when someone says things that they don’t really believe. It doesn’t even need to be a holo message, just … let me call you. It was simple; Din knew it, and yet he didn’t want to believe that there was still a chance that he’d be reunited with Grogu in the near future. He’d half expected the man’s response to be in agreement; yes, you did what you were supposed to. The kid might miss you, but he really is better here. You’re right. But instead, there’d been a slight note of surprise in the Jedi’s voice, especially as he’d mentioned the other person he wanted Din to talk to. But who could it be? I haven’t … haven’t talked to the kid this whole time. He wouldn’t… But Din didn’t know what the Jedi had planned, and that worried him more than he wanted to admit. But why? He squeezed the ball again and then set it down next to the beskar of his helmet, staring at the two pieces of metal. Before the Razor Crest had been blown up, he hadn’t known that Grogu’s favorite toy was made of the same metal that he wore for protection. He’d assumed it was durasteel, but when he’d unearthed it from the ashes, right alongside the new spear, he’d made the connection. He didn’t know if the kid had been drawn to it because he connected beskar with the man himself, but in the months since he’d last seen the child, the thought comforted Din. At least he has the pendant. Din’s eyes closed, remembering the final moments on the light cruiser’s bridge. Alright, pal. It's time to go. Don't be afraid. He’d been trying to remain strong for the kid, but Din had also been speaking to himself - and the coercion hadn’t worked. He’d been afraid to lose the child - his child, for good. He’d been afraid of what came next for him and Mandalore. He’d been worried about what it meant to go back to his solo existence, even with the addition of people like Fennec and Cara and Boba Fett - even Peli had crossed his mind then. But mostly, he’d focused on the way it felt to see those huge eyes staring at him until the last possible second. I'll see you again. I promise. For a few seconds - time that stretched out into an eternity, Din had imagined that he could hear the kid speaking back to him. Don’t want to go. But have to. See you again. They were short, broken sentences, similar to those that children used, but Din later realized that he’d imagined them, because it was what he’d wanted to hear. But if I call him back, I might … The man swallowed hard, reaching for the device before he allowed himself to think about it, and pressed the record button without switching the holo on. “Skywalker. I’ll listen. I don’t …. I don’t know what the time difference is between where I am and where you are, but if you call within the next eight hours, I’ll answer. Otherwise … we’ll need to figure something else out.” He sighed, running a hand over the back of his head. “I’ll … as long as it’s not the kid you want me to talk to, I’ll listen.” He repeated the direct connection procedure for the device and then sent the message, keeping it switched on while he picked up the ball and laid back, head against the pillow. Din was nervous, but with the message sent, he was calmer than he had been the entire day, and it gave him a chance to think back to the time he’d spent with Bo-Katan and Koska, the women talking excitedly about a small clan that had made contact, and what it meant. He agreed that the more Mandalorians they knew to exist, the better.

He hadn’t heard from all of the members of the Covert, but surprisingly, many of them had survived Gideon’s attack on Nevarro and the breach of their underground sanctuary. Paz was alive, as was the Armorer. Many of the foundlings were accounted for - and that was something that brought Din relief beyond words. This was true not only as the Mand’alor, but as someone that had lived and learned side by side with them. They’d lost a great deal of beskar in abandoning the tunnels, but Din had it on good authority that the pieces that had been recovered were slowly being removed from Nevarro a few at a time, transported to the Armorer’s new forge location in secret. She wasn’t the only one skilled with the metal, but she was the only one Din trusted, and as angry as that seemed to make Bo-Katan, he refused to budge on who he allowed to touch the precious metal. It’s the right call. I… know where it is, and I know that she can’t… use it against me.

The woman hadn’t given him any outright reason to mistrust her, but her attitude toward him since he’d shown up with the Moff and Darksaber in tow had made him pause. Din’s circle of trust was small, and though she’d proven helpful, she hadn’t quite worked her way into it in the months they’d known each other. It bothered her much more than it bothered him, but he tried not to think about it. Especially when I could be … thinking about the kid. Din’s thoughts went to Grogu and Skywalker, the child’s reaction to seeing the droid that the man had with him, the way the doors closing behind the two of them had felt like someone was squeezing his chest, while at the same time, there’d be a small kernel of hope buried there. He’d kept it buried but hadn’t let it die, and with each report from the Jedi, the pressure had decreased slightly. He’s doing well, or … he was. He’s learning, he’s with his own … But Din’s thoughts were interrupted with the insistent beeping of the device, and he shot up in the bed, fingers still closed around the beskar sphere. He hadn’t expected the reply to come so soon, but knowing that the Jedi was on the other end of the line, he was more excited than nervous. Just want to know what … what he has to say. Din took a deep breath, making sure that the video switch was still off and then answered the call, taking another long, slow breath to calm himself. They’re too many parsecs away, there’s nothing to be worried about.

“Hello? Are -” The Jedi replied, and Din continued, wanting to get the conversation going before he had time to overthink it. “I didn’t think you’d call. I wasn’t -” But Skywalker spoke quickly, too, no pretense before reminding him that he had someone for the Mandalorian to talk to. However, at the revelation that that someone was female, Din felt his eyes narrow, head cocking to one side. What? He was determined to begin the conversation in control, and so without hesitation, he focused his eyes on the comm device, slipping into the voice he used with the people he was trying to get information from. “Tell me your name.” The first time he heard your voice - even though it was through a tiny speaker - Din was surprised by confidence in it, the way you replied back to him immediately. You answered his questions with honesty, at least as far as he could tell, and the longer the conversation went on, the more certain Din was that Skywalker knew him better than he’d thought. The kid… the kid probably… they must talk too. He smiled at the thought, absently scratching the cheek that Grogu had laid his hand on, but when you revealed that the kid snuck into your room at night, the Mandalorian had to put a hand over his mouth to keep from reacting audibly. Dank farrik. “I thought he had to complete his training before he leaves the Academy, before he can become a Jedi, so why are you -” You didn’t get to answer that, Skywalker interjecting with similar words to the ones from his initial transmission, and Din began thinking. He wanted to agree to seeing the kid, but instead of saying that, he heard another denial leaving his lips, only cut off by your words. “If he stays here, his attachment to you might change his life, Mandalorian.” It was another simple, straightforward sentence, but hearing it, another joly passed through Din’s body. Skywalker said something about attachment on the light cruiser. So did Ahsoka on Corvus. Din knew that they were attached to each other, that was more about simply caring for the kid, but hearing someone else - someone that had spent just as much time with Grogu as Din had saying the same thing finally got through to him. That, compounded with the admission that Grogo reenacted bounty hunts with you and the others at the Academy often had Din’s lips pressed tightly together, almost to the point of pain. He misses me. He thinks of me. But what really impacted him was hearing the word aliit come through the speaker, reaching his ears in your voice. She shouldn’t know Mando’a. Hearing that, it… Instead of replying directly to that, Din voiced another denial, head shaking back and forth and eyes squeezing shut. Seeing him would be … But with the rounded sphere still in his hand, Din’s eyes opened, brow furrowed. No, you know what? I want this. Why shouldn’t I?

If he’d thought about it, there were multiple reasons why reconnecting with Grogu was a bad idea, but he could only turn the Jedi - and you - down so many times before it became impossible - or, even worse, the refusals were accepted. There’s no one chasing him right now. There’s no more danger than usual for me. There’s…

Din blinked again at the revelation that the reunion could last months, asking who’d be escorting Grogu back to the Mandalorian, and another surprised huff left his lips as you admitted that it would be you. But that means… “Are you a Jedi?” He asked the question before he could stop himself, listening intently for your answer, and the following explanation.

She’s not a Jedi, but she does care about the kid. I … I hear it. I believe it. That surprised him, but Din didn’t want to second guess you. You’d been persuasive throughout the conversation, even before the admissions you’d made, honest instead of trying to pretend that you were something that you weren’t. Complicated? I wonder what … Instead of continuing that thought, Din’s attention snapped back to you and Skywalker, the details falling into place as the discussion continued. He’d have a week to get things in order, to contact Cara and Karga, arranging the arrival on Nevarro. He’d need at least a few days to convince Bo-Katan that leaving Mandalore for months was the right call. It is. He was still speaking to you and the Jedi, but Din’s mind was on everything that he needed to do to get ready to leave. I’ll need to start in the morning. The conversation wound down, and as Din reminded you that you’d need to be ready to leave and meet him in a week, you sighed, the sound loud, even through the speaker. “That’s fine, Mandalorian. More than fine.” You were being short with him, but it didn’t seem to because you wanted to be; you were doing what was best for the situation. She’s leaving her life there to come … here with him. He blinked, telling you that he looked forward to Nevarro, and then the conversation ended, the room going quiet.

His thoughts were on Grogu - whether or not he’d grown out of his robe, if he was speaking yet, if he was more confident with his power - but they were also on the trip itself, and on the fact that once again, he’d be going from being alone to having others with him. And this time, it’s not … short term.

It was longer than he’d ever hoped for, he realized as he lifted to sphere up and over his face, the smooth surface gleaming as the filtered moonlight coming in through the window hit it. I’ll finally get to give this back. He smiled at the thought, and for the first time in the year that he’d been separated from Grogu, Din fell asleep quickly, no dreams of the kid peering over the Jedi’s shoulder keeping him awake.

---

Magnetic/Din Djarin Tag List:

@the-blind-assassin-12 @pheedraws @alraedesigns @malionnes @deceiverofgodss @thisisparadisemylove @siegfriedkingsglaive @valkblue @hehe-oof @jynrumbly @psychedelic-star @nuttyenthusiastdetective @gingib @bitchylittleredhead @littlemissoblivious @misguidedandbeguiled @cannedsoupsucks

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thevindicativevordan · 4 years ago

Text

On Steel

Given he's made his second live action appearance in 20 years, I thought now was a good time to talk about one of my favorite top 5 Superfamily members: John Henry Irons a.k.a. Steel.

Don't get me wrong, his niece Natasha Irons is cool as well, but John is by far my favorite holder of the mantle, and it all goes back to Reign of the Supermen, to no one's surprise I'm sure. Reign was one of the first Superman stories I read, along with Morrison JLA, and I was enchanted by the exploits of the four replacement Supermen. As a kid I liked Steel the most, the Eradicator was too murderous, the Cyborg looked creepy (I totally thought he was going to be evil because he looked like a Terminator), and the Superboy was kind of cool but also an easily manipulated idiot. Steel was the only one who felt to me like he was really trying to *be* Superman in terms of how he acted. He was working to save people because it was the right thing to do, he refused to kill, he wasn't in the hero business for money or glory. Plus he wore a badass suit of power armor and smashed bad guys with a hammer, which was the coolest way to fight crime ever to my young mind, and a great way to summarize what makes Steel so great.

The Appeal of Steel

Steel is SuperIron Man with a warhammer. At his most basic level, even if you know nothing else about the character, he looks cool. He's got the iconography of Superman, the cape, the S-shield, even has some metallic trunks in a few depictions, while also drawing on what makes Iron Man so cool: the power armor that lets you do anything you can imagine, that lets a normal human play on Superman's level. He's clearly a genius to have been able to build the armor, so you get a member of the Superfamily who is more well known for their brains than their powers, which makes him a useful addition for that alone.

But his strengths as a character in terms of what he brings to the table go far deeper than just the surface. Irons has an interesting background as a weapons designer, something that held true for both his Post Crisis and his New 52 incarnations. While similar to Tony Stark, Irons was not the CEO or head of the groups he worked for, so his realization of the horror he's enabled is moreso that of a cog in the machine rebelling, rather than the top man forced to reconcile with the privileged existence they've led (he's more similar to Milestone's Hardware in terms of background). Yet that he did build weapons at one point shows that Irons morals weren't always up to par, which gives him room for growth and change in a way the other Superfamily members typically aren't allowed.

Steel is also a great example of how Superman inspires the DCU's citizens. We hear a lot about how "important" Superman is, how "inspirational" he is to other heroes and the citizens he protects, and as a huge Superman fanboy myself, this can sometimes come off as masturbatory. Irons is a good way to explore the human perspective on Superman, and actually show how people are inspired by Supes. Irons builds his suit because of how much Superman means to Metropolis, himself, and to the world, and Irons wants to make sure that doesn't die with Clark. He embodies Superman's attributes better than Clark's clone during Reign! He shows that what makes Superman Superman isn't the powers or the alien heritage, it's the compassion and the desire to help your fellow man. That's something any human can embody and practice in their day to day lives, and Irons proves that.

Finally it needs to be said: Irons also brings diversity to the Superfamily. Clark, Jon, Kara, Kon, and Karen (if you consider Power Girl part of the Superfamily) are all white. John, Natasha, and Kenan aren't, which means they bring storytelling opportunities that others can't be used to tell. They get to share in the Superman mantle and explore what that means. I must admit that I am a little worried as to what will happen to Steel in a world where they're potentially making Clark black on the film side, but Superman & Lois reintroducing Irons to the general audience will hopefully ensure that he sticks around.

His Romance with Lana Lang

Christopher Priest once wrote about his approach to the character:

"For all the wonderful notices we've gotten for BLACK PANTHER, I actually think STEEL was better, funnier, and more wryly cynical. And nobody noticed. I mean nobody read this book, not even the bosses at DC, which is, I suppose, how we got away with this, our mean-spirited de-construction of the Superman mythos."

With that in mind I wanted to talk about how much I loved the New 52 hooking Irons and Lang up.

The man who tried to fill in for Superman, and primarily sees Clark through his legendary image and heroic career, dating the woman who was Superman's first love and who primarily views Superman through the memories of her childhood best friend and boyfriend Clark Kent is fucking brilliant. Both John and Lana are incredibly similar in multiple aspects, so I totally buy why they'd be interested in each other, but also different enough that you can see where there'd be some natural tension and drama in their relationship. While not "mean-spirited" I totally think a Priest style deconstruction of the iconic Clois relationship would work perfectly here. The relationship shouldn't be "doomed", but it absolutely should be a harder road to reach marriage (if DC would ever allow that) than what Clark and Lois went through, and it allows you to examine that relationship in interesting ways.

My take on the difference between John and his "LL" and Clark and his "LL" is that the basic dynamic should be reversed. John's the cynical urban one and Lana is the kid from nowhere who shows up in the big city and adjusts to living there, the reverse of Clark and Lois. Similar to how Clark and Lois are both reporters, the New 52 making Lana an engineer goes a long way to helping justify why she and John might have feelings for each other: they already share interests! Add in that both of them are defined by their interactions with Superman, and it totally makes sense why after meeting each other they would find they have a lot in commoIf I was able to write their relationship from scratch, I'd really try to play up their different outlooks on heroism. For John, being Steel is a way to atone for his weapons designer past, a chance to do some good, and a way to help others. For Irons being a hero is costly and dangerous, and he struggles with whether or not this is the right path for him. For Lana, superheroism is all about the excitement and adventure of being a hero. She left Smallville like Clark, so Lana must have some desire to see the outside world, and I think playing up her wanderlust gives her an interesting character attribute that contrasts well with Steel's desire to stay in Metropolis. Lana should be very encouraging of John being Steel, in part because she believes in the good he can accomplish, and in part because she regrets not choosing to go with Clark and support him in his quest to be Superman. John and Lana co-leading Steelworks, a company invested in building a better future for the poorer areas of Metropolis like Suicide Slum, would also be a source of stories.

Ultimately I would like to see John and Lana get married in the mainline comics. I think that relationship is great for the both of them, and neither of their previous relationships feel as full of potential as being together. Lana's marriage to Pete Ross was just awful, her openly lusting after Clark and trying to cheat on her husband just made her utterly unlikeable. I did enjoy Amanda Quick from Priest's run as John's dysfunction Lois, but I think Lana can fill that same role just as easily, and since she's an iconic Supermythos character in her own right I think she can fill it better.

His Relationship with Natasha

Natasha should be the Rocket to John's Icon. She's her uncle's biggest fan and can't wait to be a superhero. Where John might wrestle with whether or not being a hero is really allowing him to reach his full potential, Natasha doesn't understand how he can even ask the question. Of course one man can make a huge difference, hello, has he SEEN all the times superheroes have saved reality? There's nothing more impactful than being a superhero! She's the one who gets John to loosen up and enjoy the awesome feeling of smashing evildoers with his hammer, of how cool it is to iterate on new improvements to his power armor. I think Natasha should have her own identity separate from her uncle. I've heard a few suggestions for names, "Alloy", "Anvil", I personally like the name "Silversmith" since that's an "S" name that goes well with her abilities and with her color scheme.

His Relationship With Superman

In terms of day to day, can we stop having the goddamn Batman be the one Clark goes to for tech advice? I get your average DC writer treats all the non-Batman ongoings as mere auditions to their real dream to write their epic Batman story where Joker gases Gotham and Batman wrestles with whether he should kill him or not for the 100th fucking time, but how about we stop bringing Batman into the Superbooks, and use Steel instead? He's the goddamn supergenuis of the family, USE HIM. No more Batman, let Irons be the guy Clark and all the other Superfamily members go to for bioscans, tech analysis, or anything else science related they can't handle themselves.

I definitely think Irons is the one guy Clark trusts enough to share his Kryptonian tech, or any other dangerous technology he's acquired and stored in the Fortress, with. I really loved the Tesseract Fortress from back in the day, since Clark is back to his arctic getaway, I say let John have a "Fortress of Steel" Tesseract in the Steelworks sub-basement that he's able to create using alien tech from Clark's Fortress.

What I'd Do With Steel

I think the best use for Steel is to lean into his nature as SuperIron Man: Make him the corporate hero of Metropolis, the "good billionaire" who uses his wealth as well as his tech to help. Clark can never be one of the rich and elite, it's not in his nature nor in his interest, but I think John absolutely can walk in those circles. He would be a newcomer, an "interloper", having to fight against the old money elite who don't want him meddling in their affairs.

The pitch is this: John is feeling pretty damn good at the moment. His relationship with Lana is going well at the moment, and he's starting to think she might be the girl he'll marry. Together they run Steelworks, a tech company co-owned by the two of them that seeks to build technology to improve life in Metropolis and across the world. Steelworks is rising in the financial sector, thanks to it securing a contract from the City of Metropolis to deal with the monsters created by Lexcorp dumping chemical runoff into the bay. John and Lana built a mecha capable of defeating the monsters that crawl out of the bay and threaten the city, and they've used that success to tackle a new problem: gentrification of Suicide Slum.

With Lexcorp's decline in power, other megacorps are making a move to establish a foothold in Metropolis, and they're targeting Suicide Slum as their entry point. John is using Steelworks to defend the residents, he's even built a brand new top of the line hospital for the area the Steelheart Medical Center. Only one problem: the mayor's office has installed some guy named Dr. Villain as the administrator, instead of Iron's choice of Dr. Amanda Quick who is vice admin instead, and Steel suspects sabotage on behalf of one of his megacorp competitors pulling strings to get this guy installed and drive the hospital into the ground.

At the same time there are rumors of Suicide Slum residents disappearing from their homes thanks to CADMUS being reestablished somewhere underneath Metropolis. Whispers in the underworld say Superman's tech expert before John, Dr. Emil Hamilton a.k.a. Ruin has seized control, and is experimenting on residents for God knows what reason. Hamilton is jealous of Irons for "stealing" his role and Irons worries it's only a matter of time before Ruin attacks Steelworks.

As if that wasn't all bad enough, Natasha has started college and insists on interning at Steelworks. Between her hacking the mecha and badgering her uncle about when he'll let her join her in the superhero business, Irons is at his wits end with her.

Oh and did we mention someone put a $50 million dollar bounty on Steel's head, and some freak named Skorpio has shown up to collect? John's going to need his hammer to handle this freak if he wants to survive long enough to reign in Natasha, coordinate with Quick to keep Villain in check, and take Lana out on a date.

The whole run would see Irons go from the most opulent penthouses and boardrooms to the darkest, poorest corners of Metropolis. Irons would get involved with politics, Clark may never endorse a candidate for mayor but I see no reason why Irons can't, and his campaigning for a pro-poor mayor would really anger the elite. He'd have to face down the old money and fend off attempts to have his company bought out by the new.

It will probably never happen but that's my pitch. I really do hope we get some more Steel content somewhere. He was front and center on the Supermythos promo for Infinite Frontier:

So I have to assume some kind of mini or something is in the pipeline for him. I imagine he will be part of that Superfamily event that's coming in Sept, and that he'll hopefully get a mini coming out of that. I want DC to strike while the iron is hot, the S&L show just helped reintroduce him to a wider audience, take advantage of that! Steel is too awesome a character to just be left on the sidelines for that long.

#superman #steel #john henry irons #dc comics

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 5 years ago

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HASO, “Saved by a Nightmare.”

I wanted to write something short and quick today, but this is what happened instead. I hope you all like. I knw you wanted to know more about the Bran and what happened to Ket

He was alone.

Finally!

He said that, but what he didn’t know is that he had actually been mostly alone for the past five years. After his traumatic experience some five years earlier, he had requested a transfer to a mining station on an unnamed planet in an unnamed system on the very outskirts of andromeda.

He had not come up for air in those five years.

He had not seen a sole or the suggestion of another sole other than the glowing bioluminescent coating that he left behind to brighten up the tunnels just a bit.

He was technically supposed to be down here mining precious metals, and of course every day he sent up a token care of rocks and waste through the main shaft just to make him think he was actually doing something. He was not, in fact, doing anything at all really except slowly excavating his tunnel deeper and deeper, this increasing the likelihood that he would never see another living being for the rest of his life.

And so there he rested at the bottom of the deepest shaft amid a pile of rubble contemplating his own thoughts.

A pastime that was not really recommended because when he went into his own thoughts he often spent much of that time bitterly contemplating the last few years and what had led him here in the first place.

Ket was famous, and he had spent the list five years trying to make himself anonymous once again.

Why was he famous?

Because he had been the first alien to have ever met a human.

He was the first alien species humans had ever come in contact with, and because of that chance meeting he would probably have emotional scars for the rest of his life. When he closed his eyes at night he often watched, as if in slow motion as the dangerous creature with its too sharp teeth and strange churring growl chased him through mases and tunnels, never giving up, never ending pursuit until Ket wa exhausted and lying helpless on the floor.

He saw the thing in his dreams.

Jumped at every noise

And cowered at the very thought.

He had been just a pup then really, but the meeting had scarred him for life.

He had asked to come here only months after the encounter and hadn’t come up for air since. The outside world was lost to him, and he knew nothing of it except for the horrible humans which were now probably waiting for him on the surface, ready to eat him.

A part of him wondered if the strange predator creatures had taken over the galaxy yet, and maybe he was the last one of his species left trapped down here in the dark.

Ket didn’t watch the news, or seek any information about the horrifying creatures that had turned him into this. It would have taken him less than half a day to crawl from his tunnels and go ask, but the thought of leaving his safe, protective confines, just make him sick to think about.

No, he would stay here where it was safe.

He closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, when suddenly a low rumbling tremor rose up through his body.

He sat up and looked around as the cave shook and pebbles danced on the floor.

What was going on!

He turned in a tight circle pressing his ear against the wall.

Oh hell!

The tremor had destabilized his tunnel. He could hear it through the rocks.

What was happening! He tried to move, but as he shifted he felt the tunnel rumble slightly.

On no….. On no, this wasn’t how it was supposed to end, he was going to die down here, and there was no one to come save him. He hadn’t submitted a report in weeks….

In reality years.

No one was going to be ale to find him!

He sat there frozen in shock as another tremor rocked his tunnels. WHat was happening!

*** “Mayday mayday, Omen one this is mining facility 46A13 requisition immediate assistance.”

“Copy that 46, Omen in root to your position, please stand by.”

“And how do you plan on dealing with a tunnel collapse, Admiral. That's not exactly our area of expertise.” Sunny walked beside him, her long even strides eating away the distance as they made their way down towards the hanger.

“I have no idea but we are going to find a way.” They rounded a corner and the Admiral dropped to one knee for a quick moment offering his hand to a small fluffy figure who climbed onto his hand and allowed the Admiral to rest him on his shoulder, “Lord Avex, I am glad you could make it. Have you been briefed.”

The small, colorful, and pig eared creature tapped his foot on the Admiral’s shoulder.

“I think, if we remove one of the Vrul shield modulators, and unhook one of the laser mounts we might be able to make something functional for a rescue mission.”

“How dangerous is that going to be taking two high powered objects into a cave?”

“On a scale of one to ten?”

“Sure.”

“A twenty.”

Admiral Vir grunted and rounded the corner to where a group of marines werve suiting up in armored spelunking gear.

“Don’t the mining companies have equipment for this kind of thing?” Sunny asked, “I would assume they would be ready for any eventuality like this?”

“You would think that.” Adam said, walking over to joining the others, “But they are actually a little less prepared than you might think. The Bran have been mining manually for a long time, and they usually don’t need precautionary measures because they mine so well, of course this planet had also not shown any seismic activity up until now either, so I guess we can all be wrong about something.

“Lord Avex, talk to your men about getting the equipment ready.”

The fuzzy creatures bobbed its head, which looked more like it’s entier body, and rolled down the Admiral’s arm like a ramp, plopping to the floor and then dashing off into the darkness.

Adam pulled on a hard hat and tested the light.

“I still don’t see why they would send you. You guys have to experience in this sort of thing.” Sunny pointed out

Adam secured his hard hat and looked up smiling, “If I didn’t know any better I would say you were worried about me.”

She crossed both of her arms, “I AM worried about you, you big idiot. You seem to have this thing for running into dangerous situations with only half assed plans.”

He just smiled, “Not entirely half assed, we are going to be hooked up to camera feeds leading up to some of the diggers who are going to give us instructions.”

“Then why don’t they do it themselves?”

“The bran aren’t exactly known for their bravery, Sunny.”

She stared at him with narrowed eyes, “And sometimes, I wish that you weren’t known for yours either.”

“I’m flattered, I really am, but I have to go.” he reached out a hand, paused and then drew it back, stepping away while awkwardly clearing his throat, “Anyway, keep the crew out of trouble while I am gone will you.”

Sunny had no time to say anything else as Lord Avex returned at the head of a small army of his fluffy companions carrying some random parts that they were able to attach to Adam with some warning that this was going to be very dangerous.

Lord Avex would be accompanying him to make sure the machine didn’t self destruct at any point.

Sunny did not find that particularly comforting.

The humans on the other hand suited up like it was just another day for them, setting up and loading onto the drop ship without so much as a backward glance.

Adam flew one of the ships down, lord Avex claiming the copilot seat.

The world they landed on was tidally locked with it’s star leaving on side completely cold and the other side overly hot. They landed on the band between light and dark where it was bearable, and made it to within the Bran’s atmospheric bubble, which was the one piece of technology they were actually known for.

Upon arrival they were briefed on the situation.

Less than an hour ago there had been some sort of seismic activity below the surface of the planet. The jolt had been enough to destabilize many of the tunnels. Fortunately for them large groups of Bran had been able to make their way out due to their superior mining skills, but there were still a few trapped inside due to cave ins.

No bran was willing to go back down there to help their comrades, but the Tesraki overseers had had the brilliant idea to look for a group of creatures stupid enough to try themselves.

At least the Tesraki seemed to care about their people, which wasn’t often the case with the furry businessmen.

Most of the workers were stuck on upper levels, and would be relatively easy to get out.

But there was one.

“I am going to be honest with you Admiral, we aren’t entirely sure the bran is still alive down there. No one has seen him in nearly five years. We are only sure that he lives because, occasionally we get sent up a cart of useless rubble from one of the deeper shafts. Generally I would say he is a gonner and just leave him there, but, we have to try all of our options before we resort to abandoning one of our people.”

Adam nodded, “I have a Vrul strength shield and a Celzex designed laser. Will that be enough.”

The two Tesraki looked between each other in quick contemplation before one of them nodded, “The laser, for sure, but I don’t know how well a shield would stand up to the entire weight of a mountain crushing you, we can only hope that we can navigate you down there fast enough and quietly enough not to disturb the tunnels too much.”

“I will go with you to work the laser.” Lord Avex announced, and Adam didn’t argue. He knew the little creature would be offended if he questioned his honor. Celzex may have been insufferable egoists most of the time, but no one could deny their sheer bravery, or perhaps stupidity, but that was something he could admire at least.

He was a human after all, and had practically written the book on competent stupidity.

They were led across open ground under a dark sky, where massive floodlights were being shined down on the multiple tunnel entrances.

They walked a ways into the darkness of the first mine shaft where Bran were still fleeing for cover.

From there each of them was paired with a handler, who would give them instructions on their way down.

Adam was paired with the team lead since he was going to be going deepest. Lord Avex sat on his shoulder.

The Bran stared at them as they walked inside, shying away from the much taller, much scarier looking humans.

Looking at them brought back memories of his first alien encounter, a memory that was both fond and embarrassing considering he was pretty sure he had driven that particular alien to madness.

He had tried to find Ket before, to apologize for freaking him out, but by the time he had gotten around to it, the Bran had already gone to ground. Oh well, maybe one day something would happen, and he would get his chance to apologize

“Can you hear me.”

“Yeah I've got it.: He said, adjusting the sound on his implant.

“Now the entire cave system has been built throughout with audio relays, so we shouldn’t lose contact, but if we do, keep moving forward, and whatever you do, try to keep control of your feet and don’t let them touch the side walls.”

“Yes sir.”

The Bran had mostly cleared out of the front entrance leaving it open for Adam and the group of marines to begin their descent down into the darkness. He looked over at the marines in admiration, never had he had the opportunity to work with such a brave group of men and women, and he looked up to them every day.

They started breaking off halfway down the shaft to their different areas, until Adam was the last one still walking down. At this point the saft was still big enough for him to stand at his full height, and floodlights on the walls were still giving him a good view of where he was going. He had gone down some distance by the time he reached the end given two passages to chose from.

“Left.” he was ordered, and he stepped inside, gingerly making his way across the floor and trying not to touch the walls.

Lord Avex rested on his shoulder controlling his head mounted light.

The tunnel grew smaller and smaller as he went, and he found himself crouching along the way.

Lord Avex moved around back and clung to Adam’s harness.

“See the cracking in the cave above you,”

Adam looked up and did, to his chagrin, see a web of hairline cracks spidering across the ceiling, “Yeah.”

“Those are kept in check by the shoring up along the walls, and you don’t have to worry about them. Cave ins are going to be our biggest concern, now take the next right.”

He did as told,and had to duck under a low opening before continuing his way down. By way of instruction he made his way deep into the ground, sliding down ropes, and climbing through caverns with the ease of a creature that could only have been Bran or human. As far as he knew the Bran were the only other creature that had ever been designed for climbing besides humans, though he was finding that that kind of climbing was a bit different. Humans had originally found their homes in trees, while the Bran had always been cave dwelling creatures.

He found this out pretty soon as he tried to fit his shoulders through a very small opening, slithering forward and trying not to disturb the rock too much.

He was glad he had never been claustrophobic because even he was feeling a little closed off, he could hardly imagine what someone with a fear of being crushed would feel at a moment like this.

“How are you doing down there Admiral.”

He was huffing and puffing rather heavily as he army crawled through the next section of tunnels, lord Avex waddling ust before him.

“Good, good If these caves get any smaller I might not be able to fit though…. Shoulders too big, and there better be a place for me to turn around or otherwise I’m well and truly fucked.” He said that as a joke but a part of him was definitely panicking at that possibility.

“The Bran always build turnaround areas into their tunnel, Admiral, you are going to be fine. Anyway you are approaching the next section. This is a part no one else has been in as far as I know, so we are going to have to play it by ear.

That also was not entirely comforting, but he was going to have to work with it.

He hurried forward , as much as he could and slithered into the vertical shaft going downward.

This was scary as hell, but he kept control and didn’t panic crawling his way deeper and deeper into the caves.

At one point he was coming round a sharp corner some hour down into the dark when a soft rumbling rolled through the stone.

He felt his heart jump into his throat and the rocks swayed around him.

For a moment a spot of true panic colored his thoughts. He was going to die down here…. After everything that had happened….

“Hold on, must be an aftershock.”

He gritted his teeth and kept his head lowered, hand hovering over the control for the shield. He had no idea what would happen if he engaged it this far down, and he didn’t really want to find out, but soon the tremor passed, little fountains of dust falling onto his head. Up ahead the fluffy Celzex was no longer so colorful, matted with dust and gravel.

“Are you ok Admiral.”

“Alright.” he grunted. “A little bit shaken up is all.” He began crawling his way forward again.

Based on our sonar readings, you are getting close. The rock is much less stable down here, so you are more likely to run into cave ins.

He followed as instructed, moving forward and examining the rock below his hands.

As they said would happen they found a caved in part of the tunnel just up ahead.

“You’re going to have to use that laser to dig around one side and create a new tunnel, you will want to avoid the weakened areas of ceiling, so move back a few feet and go through the right hand side”

Before him, the little Celzex move into position ready to fire the weapon, now turned mining equipment.

The laser was bright red and almost blinding in the darkness, and he only had his gloved hands to scoop away discarded rubble, which he gently pushed up the tunnel praying nothing would be distrubed.

It took them a good hour to work through the new tunnel despite the laser, and when they did he was surprised to see an open tunnel glowing with a strange bioluminescent film.

“Something has been living down here.” he muttered kind of glad he was wearing gloves as he crawled into the tunnel.

Getting close Admiral.

***

Ket lay in the rubble ready to die, he knew it was coming, new his life would soon be at an end. Oh how sad it was that it should be so early. Stuck underground in the darkness for the past who knows how long…. Probably no more than a year or so.

Either way he was going to die here, and no one would come to help him. Bran weren’t brave, they didn’t come to your aid.

Bran were cowards at heart and he knew that most of all.

No one was coming for him.

Of course that is when he heard the strange scraping up the tunnel.

He sat up lifting his head and staring into the darkness. WHat could that be!

He was the only one here and had been the only ne here for as long as he could remember. Was he going mad, Where were those sounds coming from!

He pressed back into the wall.

Maybe that hadn’t been an earthquake, maybe there was some sort of giant worm crawling through the depths of this planet finally coming to eat him. Oh the depravity! Couldn’t he just be left in peace!

The scraping sounds grew louder and louder and louder, and he watched in shocked terror as a shadow jolted forward in one of the upper bends.

There was nowhere to run, nowhere for him to go, and even as he thought that the tunnel began to shake again. He held on for dear life, eyes closed praying that death would take him quickly, for he did not want to know what was around that corner. The shaking soon stopped and the figure started moving again.

Ket watched, in mesmerized horror as the thing poked its head around the corner.

Bulbous head, bony shoulders, long spindly arms and bony digits.

Ket began to scream, scream and scream as loud as he could as the creature born of his nightmares scuttled out of the darkness and came crawling towards him. It made some of its same guttural gurgling noises, the ones that had haunted his dreams, and he pressed himself back into the wall screaming and screaming and screaming.

It had come for him at last to devour his heart.

It reached out and grabbed him by the snout, cutting off his scream.

The ground around them began to rumble as the creature gripped him with iron hands, the pale white of its eyes glistening wetly through its dust smeared face.

“Shut UP, shut up shut up, do you want this whole damn thing to come down on us.”

He certainly had not expected to hear his own language, and his attempted screams cut off in a confused gurgle. The rumbling died down a little.

The creature made a gesture with one hand, “Ground team this is Admiral Vir, I have the last survivor and am bringing him up now.”

What…. Wha?

What was going on.

The creature's white teeth glittered in the illumination of his tunnel just as wet and gaping as before.

He was so scared he could hardly move, but shocked as well as the creature from his nightmares pulled him forward and hooked a harness around Ket’s body clipping it to a loop on a harness that encircled the creature's back legs.

“Now do what I do, and you might just live.” The creature hissed at him, still, disconcerting in his own language.

In a daze, Ket followed after as his nightmare dragged him from the collapsing tunnels. Trickling runnel of dust poured down around them from cracks in the ceiling above. It was made pretty clear early on that this creature had not ever been meant for the caves, despite Ket’s memory of one of it’s kind chasing after him through the underground. It was too large, meant to walk upright on thick sturdy legs, but till it climbed with the ease of any Bran.

Didn’t mean he wasn’t scared.

Memories from that night not so long ago, or it seemed to him, kept racing through his mind. Flashes of glowing green eyes and flashing white teeth champing at his heels. The sound of its revving hunting cry as it raced through the darkness. But now he was being towed along behind it as the tunnels rocked around him.

“Shit shit shit shit.” Came the muttering up ahead, and he looked to see that there was another creature riding on the thing’s back. It stared at him with very wide white eyes.

“Lord Avex?”

“Yes?” The creature responded, sounding much less concerned than the predator.

“What happens if you die here?” it was a very blunt and morbid question, but the creature didn’t seem to mind.

“I will be honored for centuries having died in a heroic manner.”

The predator made an incomprehensible grunting noise.

“Admiral, the cave system has been compromised and the tunnels are collapsing. Get out as fast as you can, I repeat as fast as you can, if there is a cave in you will want to be closer to the surface because we might be able to reach you.

They were talking like they expected a collapse, which wasn’t really all that comforting.

The predator went very quiet, but sped up to the point Ket was being dragged along behind.

All around them the tunnels were shaking.

Dust filled the air clogging their vision as the beam of light fractured off dust motes.

They passed a point he had not gone further than in five years, and the predator scrambled up the vertical climb as easily as a Bran would, he scrambled on hands and knees dragging the two of them along. He was almost able to walk in a crouch now, but the tunnels were beginning to cave in around them, rocks falling from the roof and smashing against the ground. The Preditor ducked and pulled to the side grabbing ket around the middle and the strange fluffy creature in the other hand. The tunnel was wide enough for him torun now.

Ket could do nothing but watch.

The predator probably could have escaped if it dropped him, but it refused to do so, adjusting him even as it ran so it could keep better hold, clutching KEt to it’s chest. Its breathing was ragged, labored and panicked, but still it refused to let him go.

He thought he could see light.

And then.

“Its coming down!”

The predator pulled to a stop and threw himself to the ground.

The cave rumbled and roared as rocks egan to fall around them. Ket looked up only to see the underside of the human’s chest and belly as he hugged the two smaller aliens in the leah of his body against the falling stone. He heard the cave ceiling fracture and then felt a pulse of energy around them.

The Last thing he heard was a scream and then a crushing weight.

***

Ket woke unable to breathe, or barely able to breathe, all around them there was a dim glowing of a blue purple nexus, and as he looked he watched the nexus quiver under the strain.

Overhead the predator was curled in around them in a tight ball pressed up against Ket and the strange fluffy creature who was blinking confusedly in the dark.

The predator wheezed as the nexus flickered, holding the two aliens' protection to his chest, pressing his back against the nexus.

“Admiral, are you alright?” The fuzzball asked

“How long will the shield hold?”

“It depends on how many tons of rock we are trapped under.” The Celxex said mildly.

Ket was surprised they were alive at all, based on their original depth he would have said a couple thousands tons for sure.

They were dead.

He glanced up at the predator, nothing more than a dust painted face and two glowing whtie orbs in the dark. This predator had died trying to save him, was dying trying to save him.

It seemed odd that his life was going to end like this.

He looked up at the human and in that moment, in the glowing of the nexus lights he saw the green of its one working eye.

He would have known that color anywhere.

“You!”

The predator looked down at him in confusion.

What? “You…. You’re… that thing!”

“Did a rock hit this one in the head or something.” The one called Lord Avex asked.

But the predator eyed him ,sudden recognition crossing his face, “Ket?”

The creature made that same strange revving noise that made ket pull back in shock.

“Sorry, Sorry, I am just a bit surprised to see you here, I tried to find you to apologize but…. You had already vanished by then.”

“Apologize?” He was so confused

“Yes, I was a bit enthusiastic upon our first meeting. They say I scared you half to death. I promise it was an accident. I never meant it that way, I just get a bit out of hand when I am excited.”

This was news to Ket

He wasn’t entirely sure how to take it.

“Ok ok you two kiss and make up already.” Lord Avex jumped in

The predator grunted, “At least when I die I will have that off my conscience.”

The Nexus flickered and shrunk.

They folded forward on themselves just slightly. Pressed uncomfortably close.

Wheezing fill the hot and muggy confines of their bubble.

The were going to die son.

The nexus continued to grow smaller and smaller until they were curled into a ball with the predator around them, pressed to the point of not being able to breathe. He felt the human’s belly rise and fall with his labored breathing.

They were about to die

And then, The nexus expanded slightly.

The human relaxed, and as minutes wore on the nexus continued to grow until with an eruption it burst up through the rock and dark night sky appeared above them.

The nexus flickered and then died, leaving them all lying on the stone gasping and covered in dust.

Paramedics ran forward to where tey lay with shocked yelles describing how they were still alive.

Ket stared at the human as he was attended to by aliens and others of his kind.

No one seemed to find it odd.

It became clear to Ket in the next few minutes that he had missed a lot.

Bu he hadn’t missed, his once nightmare, becoming his now savior.

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hearts-hunger · 4 years ago

Text

aay’han mar’eyce (bittersweet discovery): chapter two || din djarin x reader

Read on AO3 || Masterlist

chapter one

Series Summary: In search of the Jedi you’ve been tasked to find, you and Din wrestle with the bittersweet discovery of your little one’s past and destined future. || Part Three of Jate’kara (Lucky Stars)

Chapter Summary: A forest planet with no forests, a Magistrate with the city pinned under her thumb, and a commission to kill the Jedi you were looking for. Yep, sounds about right for you and Din.

Pairings: Din Djarin x Wife!Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Angst | Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Mentions of canon-typical violence

A/N: In my humble opinion, this chapter is light years better than the first one. Basically Din being a big strong gentle protective husband, love that for him. I hope you like it! ♡

The walls of the city were every bit as bleak as the landscape they jutted up from. Dirty grey stone was topped by a bell tower and a pair of soldiers, their breather masks dark with a thin, horizontal visor. They turned to each other as you approached from the edge of the forest, and their conversation was clipped and modulated through their vocoders.

“What do you think, cyar’ika?” Din asked, his voice low. “Should I start wearing a mask like that?”

You looked up at him, confused by the question. “No. I like your mask the way it is.”

He gave a soft chuckle. “I know,” he said. “I was kidding.”

“Oh,” you said, feeling a little sheepish. He’d been trying to ease your obvious tension with a little humor, and it had gone straight over your head.

He gently nudged his shoulder against yours. “Take a deep breath, cyare,” he said kindly. “We have nothing to hide.”

Nothing except a ship that was flagged by New Republic records, a stolen asset of the Imperial warlords, and the man who was wanted for both transgressions. You couldn’t help a wry smile and knew he was smiling back at you under the helm.

As you approached the gate, a third, maskless soldier appeared to stand in front of the wide, oddly-shaped bell that topped the tower. He peered down at you through the gloom and took in your small party as you came to a stop.

“State your business,” he called down.

Din kept his posture intentionally relaxed. “Been tracking for a few days,” he said. “Looking for a layover.”

The soldier raised a brow. “Nice armor.”

You husband didn’t offer a comment, though you weren’t sure what the soldier had been expecting in response. The soldier looked from Din to you, and then to the baby in your arms.

“You a hunter, then?” he asked. You heard the suspicion in his tone; bounty hunters, especially Mandalorians, were usually lone wolves. To travel in such vulnerable company was unheard of for someone who made their living in violence.

Din wasn’t shaken; he didn’t owe anyone an explanation. “That’s right.”

“Guild?”

You schooled your expression and fought the temptation to cast a nervous glance at your husband. Though he wasn’t wanted by the Guild any more, thanks to Greef, Din still hadn’t been reinstated. Thankfully he was a much better liar than you were, by virtue of his helmet and extensive practice, and kept his tone neutral.

“Last I checked,” he said. Hopefully this soldier wouldn’t feel the need to make sure.

One of the masked soldiers said something, and the soldier you’d been speaking to gave the order to open the gate. You released a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding - it had been a long time since you'd accompanied Din on a hunt, and you had never been as good as he was at keeping your nerves in check. He briefly took your hand in his own and gave it a quick, comforting squeeze.

The city was no more welcoming than the scorched forest, and you stayed close by your husband’s side as he led you through the thoroughfare. He stood tall and walked with intention, and you were better able to calm the unease that plagued you as you drew strength from his confidence and composure. Though he’d been nervous before, you knew he was in his element now; he’d honed his ability to bluff and intimidate for years, until it had become second nature. You caught curious and even hostile looks from citizens and soldiers alike, but no one approached you; a broad-shouldered Mandalorian clad head to toe in beskar was a strong deterrent to anyone looking for trouble.

If the state of the city was any indication, it seemed as though Calodan had trouble in spades. Masked soldiers marched through the city, boots tramping over broken cobblestones as they led people away from the main road. Anyone not accompanied by soldiers moved with caution and haste, looking over their shoulders and rushing indoors like something was after them. No one spoke - no friendly greetings were exchanged, no children played in the street. Broken-down droids wandered aimlessly with rusty joints and damaged vocabulators.

It seemed like an oppressive, desolate, dangerous place to live. If this is where Ahsoka Tano made her home, you would rather break your vow to the Armorer than leave your baby with her. You wouldn’t leave him here. You couldn’t.

Din went up the only vendor on the street, a silver-haired old woman who watched him with a wary gaze.

“Pardon me, vendor, have you heard of anyone - ”

She turned and ducked inside without a word, and Din cut himself off with a sigh. Your baby gave a little babble and reached out after her.

“Shh, my darling,” you said gently, offering your finger for him to hold. He wrapped his claws around it and gave you a questioning look.

You bit your lip. He wasn’t being naughty; he wasn’t even being loud, really. But he always drew attention anyway, and his curious little coos would only attract more unwanted gazes. You pressed a soft kiss to his head and he was content to snuggle close to you again, but not before you realized he had attracted the attention of two younglings in an alley a few paces away. An older man knelt in front of them; they looked at your baby with wide eyes.

Din took a step towards the man. “You there,” he said easily. “I need some information. I’m looking for someone.”

The man ushered the children away and straightened.

“Please, do not speak to them,” he said firmly. “Or to any of us.”

You couldn't think why - surely they wouldn’t get in trouble for merely talking to you, and Din had shown no indication that he was looking for a fight.

Din sighed. “Look, I just need to know - ”

“The Magistrate wants to see you.”

You jumped at the warped, metallic voice so close behind you; you grabbed Din’s arm in panic and pulled yourself closer to him, pressing the baby safely between you. Din turned slowly, glancing at you to make sure you were alright before he turned his gaze to the masked soldiers that flanked you. Your hand trembled where it gripped the fabric of his flight suit; he briefly put his hand over yours and didn’t attempt to pry your fingers loose.

“It’s alright, cyare,” he said, softly enough that his modulator caught a little. You slowly let him go even though you wanted nothing more than to hold on tighter.

The soldiers waited for you to comply but seemed unwilling to act with any force if unprovoked. You guessed their presence alone must be enough to prompt obedience on the part of the townspeople, and wondered if anyone dared to question the bidding of the Magistrate. Your husband didn’t seem of any mind to, and he guided you back into the center of the street with a light touch on your back.

You tried to get your heart to stop beating so wildly in your chest. Din wouldn’t let anything happen to you, you knew. The soldiers accompanied you down the remainder of the street until it stopped at another gate; prisoners were strung up in shock cages on either side, groaning and pleading for help as currents of white-hot electricity jolted through them.

So that was what happened to anyone who questioned the bidding of the Magistrate. You shielded your little one from seeing the gruesome display and avoided looking at it yourself, fervently trying not to think about how your family might meet a similar fate after your meeting. Your baby burrowed closer against your chest as you followed Din through the gate.

The doors behind you closed and left you in a holding area of sorts, and you felt a brief thrill of claustrophobia before the second set of doors parted to reveal a beautiful courtyard. The difference between it and the rest of the city was jarring: lush trees framed twin pools on either side of the walkway, and a woman in long robes gazed into the water as it lapped up against the stone.

“Come forward.” Her voice was calm, commanding. You and Din complied, watching as she kept her attention on the water.

“You are a Mandalorian?” she asked. She sprinkled something from a little golden bowl into the water, and the surface shimmered with ripples as something moved below.

“Yes,” Din said. You were thankful, despite everything, at how quickly his voice soothed you even when he wasn’t speaking to you. You concentrated on the feel of him beside you - steady, calm, solid. Like he’d reminded you to at the front gate, you took a deep breath.

The Magistrate didn't turn from the water. “I have a proposition that may interest you.”

You felt a your tension ease, but not by much. You may not have been called to a private audience to be imprisoned in a shock cage or sent out of the city, but the thought of making a deal with her still made you wary.

Din considered her. “My price is high,” he warned.

She looked up at you then, moving to the center of the walkway; she circled like a tusk-cat for a moment, sizing you up.

“This target is priceless,” she said finally. “A Jedi plagues me. I want you to kill her.”

Ahsoka Tano was battling with the Magistrate of the city? She was obviously powerful, if the soldiers had done so poor a job of dealing with her that the Magistrate was looking to enlist a bounty hunter’s help. But as skilled as Din was, he’d never fought a Jedi - you had been hoping he wouldn’t have to.

The magistrate looked at you, eyeing you and your baby with interest. You wanted to step behind Din and hide, but made yourself stay still.

“That’s a difficult task,” Din told her.

She didn’t seem troubled. “One that you are well suited for,” she said. “The Jedi are the ancient enemy of Mandalore.”

Another reminder of the seemingly endless list of reasons why this whole venture was a bad idea - Jedi seemed to make enemies wherever they went. Though you supposed standing up to this Magistrate who kept her citizens in poverty and oppression indicated a moral code in the Jedi you were seeking, it still didn’t seem any way of life for one as little as your son.

If the Magistrate had expected to get a rise out of your husband with that comment, she was disappointed. “As I said, my price is high.”

She beckoned to the droid behind her, a guard who wielded a silver spear. You stiffened, and Din moved himself in front of you ever so slightly as she took the spear and slowly approached you.

“What do you make of this?” she asked. She offered the spear to your husband, and he cautiously moved to take it from her. You stayed where you were, your pulse thrumming a wary beat.

Din studied the spear, looking up its length and turning it over in his hands. Unlike the rest of the metal in the city, it caught the weak sunlight easily and shone like your husband’s armor. It looked at home in his hands; you knew it would be an impressive weapon if he were to use it. He raised his arm and brought the side of the spear down on his vambrace; it gave a clear, ringing tone at the contact like that of a temple bell.

“Beskar,” Din said. A weapon of that strength would be valuable to anyone, but its significance ran deeper to a Mandalorian. You wondered how he felt at the Magistrate owning something that rightfully belonged to his people, about her using it as leverage to get him to kill for her.

The Magistrate was no stranger to its significance. “Pure beskar,” she agreed. “Like your armor. Kill the Jedi, and it’s yours.”

Din handed the spear back to her. “Where do I find this Jedi?”

The Magistrate gave a self-satisfied smile, clearly thinking she had won him over to do her bidding.

“Last my scouts reported, she was deep in the forest southwest of the city,” she said. She looked over his shoulder at you. “Are you planning to take the girl and the little one with you?”

Was she suggesting he leave you here? You knew better than anyone that would only happen over your husband’s dead body.

Din held the Magistrate’s gaze.“Wherever I go, they go.”

She raised a brow. “Strange, for a Mandalorian to be attached to something so... fragile.”

You wished you felt braver under the scrutiny of her gaze and the sharpness of her observation. It was a sentiment you’d heard countless times since you and Din had started courting, and though you’d learned not to let it bother you as much, you still couldn’t ignore the truth of it. Mandalorians ran with other Mandalorians, not younglings and nervous things like you who had to be reminded to breathe. Din had never intentionally done anything to make you feel weak or less than - in fact, he did everything he could to teach you your own strength and bravery - but you knew it was a rare thing to find someone as good and kind as he was.

Meeting the Magistrate’s gaze, you raised your chin, trying to muster some defiance; she gave you a small, derisive smile in return.

“My chief officer will lead you out of the city and give you the Jedi’s last known coordinates” she said to Din. “Come back when you have killed her, and I shall uphold my end of the bargain.”

The doors behind you groaned open, and it was only then that Din came back to you. You knew he was aware of every potential threat and prepared to protect you from them, but you still felt uneasy with your back to the Magistrate. He steadied you with a gentle touch to your arm, and your baby cooed up at his father as you returned through the gate.

The soldier who’d questioned you earlier was waiting for you; Din spoke to him briefly, getting the coordinates as promised, and put himself between you and the gaunt officer as you walked back to the front gate. Fog threaded through the jagged treeline and curled over the charred ground, and the greenish sun was sinking lower.

You baby gave a little babble, drawing the officer’s dubious gaze. You gave the officer a challenging look, daring him to say something - it was easier to do with Din between you than it would have been otherwise.

“What is that thing?” the officer finally asked.

You glared at him. Who did he think he was? Thing, indeed. You’d like to give him a piece of your mind. But before you could retort with a healthy dose of mama-bear indignation, Din stepped in.

“We keep it around for luck,” he said, with what you were sure was a withering look under the helmet.

The officer sized him up. “You’re gonna need it where you’re headed.”

Din didn’t offer a response. He put his hand on the small of your back and led you away from the city, towards the southwest; the baby looked over your shoulder and gave the officer a parting coo, social as always. Despite your nerves, you couldn’t help a small smile and nuzzled a kiss against your baby’s cheek. His soft giggle was comforting as the forest became denser, and you held onto the precious sound as you pressed closer to Din’s side.

“Your daddy says we only keep you around for luck,” you told your baby.

Din looked down at your little one and gently tapped his nose. “Maybe if your mama wouldn’t go picking a fight with the chief officer, I wouldn’t have to.”

You huffed. “I wasn’t the one picking a fight. He called our son a ‘thing’, Din. A thing.”

He gave an amused hum. “I know. But I didn’t want to have to explain to the Magistrate why her chief officer was beaten to death by your tiny fists.”

You gave a wry smile. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” You held your hand up in front of you and made a fist.

“They’re not that tiny.”

He took your hand in his, gently turning it this way and that in mock-seriousness until you laughed.

“Alright, fine,” you said. “They are tiny. Especially compared to yours.”

He chuckled and raised your knuckles to the bottom of his visor in a light kiss; you gave him a bashful smile back.

You walked the next few minutes in companionable silence, Din helping you through the obstacles the broken trees presented when you needed it. The forest wasn’t nice, by any estimation, but it was a good deal less stressful than the city had been. The baby could babble as much as he liked, and you were free to peruse your thoughts on how your situation had changed.

You hadn’t really known what to expect, but nothing that had happened so far seemed an indication that leaving your baby with Ahsoka Tano was a good idea. A forest planet with no forests, a Magistrate with the city pinned under her thumb, a commission to kill the Jedi you were looking for. Maybe you’d naively thought the Jedi would be a peaceful sort, that you’d be comfortable leaving your little one with someone kind who lived on a nice planet where he would be happy while he trained.

He cooed back at the deep lowing of some huge animal, and you hugged him close. No - even if everything had gone exactly as you wanted it to, you wouldn’t be comfortable leaving him. Just the thought of it made your whole body ache with grief. He was your baby, even if he was technically older than both you and Din. What sort of mother gave up her child like that, to a perfect stranger?

You didn’t realize how tensely you’d curled in on yourself, how closely you held your baby like someone would snatch him away at any moment; he gave a little babble of protest, and you tried to relax. You kissed his head.

“Sorry, ad’ika,” you said quietly.

Din looked over at you. “You alright?” You knew from his tone he meant more than just physically, and you worried your bottom lip.

“You’re not going to kill her, are you?”

He held a low-hanging branch out of your way. “No, I’m not,” he said. “Even if I wasn’t looking for her, it wouldn’t be a noble kill. I don’t work for tyrants.”

You looked up at him. He was focused on making sure you were headed in the right direction, but you knew he would listen if you had more to say.

“How do you think the Magistrate got that spear?” you asked.

He shrugged. “I don't know. Maybe she had it made out of imperial beskar, or it might be an old Mandalorian weapon that fell into her hands somehow.”

You frowned. He didn’t seem that concerned about it, but you’d seen your husband willing to shoot first and ask questions later when it came to stolen Mandalorian armor. He’d nearly had a shootout with Cobb over it, and you didn’t understand his apathy towards the beskar spear.

“You don’t want it?” you pressed.

He looked over at you. “Do you? Even if we have to pay for it in blood?”

You flinched. He’d said “we”, but you both knew he’d be the one with blood on his hands, and he’d had enough of that already to know what it cost. Stolen armor meant a dead Mandalorian - or worse, dar’manda, someone who had willingly given up the Way. To bring it back where it rightfully belonged was a matter of the Mandalorian soul. A beskar spear was, in the end, just a spear; he’d get more than he bargained for, working for someone like the Magistrate for a mere weapon, and you both knew it.

You turned your head and didn’t look at him. “Sorry.”

He sighed. “No, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I know that’s not what you meant.”

Neither of you said anything for a moment, this silence more tense than the last; without having to be asked, he offered you his hand to help you over a fallen tree in your path. You held his hand tighter than you really needed to, feeling a wave of relief and a little embarrassment when he kept his hand in yours even when you were safely on the other side.

“I really am sorry, Din,” you said quietly. “I didn’t mean to question your decision. I know you wouldn’t do something like that. Of course the spear isn’t worth it.”

He shook his head. "You don't have to apologize. I knew that wasn’t what you were saying, and I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. Please forgive me.”

You took your hand from his, and his body language showed surprise only for a moment before you put your arm around his waist and pressed close to him. He relaxed and drew you close; he ran a soothing hand over your back, resting his helm against your head.

“I don’t like any of this,” you said, your voice muffled against his chest. Both of you were wound pretty tightly, and you hoped it wouldn't cause any more spats. Your baby reached out for his dad and Din offered him a finger to hold onto.

Din sighed. “I know. I don’t like it either. But we’re already here - we might as well find her and see what she has to say.”

He ran his thumb over the baby’s hand. “She might not even want to train him. He’s still so little.”

Your baby cooed and cocked his head, and the mannerism reminded you so much of Din that you felt a rush of tears you couldn’t prepare for. You leaned further into Din’s steadiness and took a wobbly breath.

“Promise me we won’t - ” Your voice hitched. You looked up at him. “Promise me we won’t leave him with her if it’s not safe. If she’s not - kind to him. I can’t leave him with someone who doesn’t - ”

You stopped yourself before you said what you meant, someone who doesn’t love him. To leave him with someone who loved him was too much to hope for, even in the best of circumstances. You’d have to let him go at some point, you knew, but you almost couldn’t bear it and certainly refused to if he wasn’t going to be safe and happy.

Your husband rested his helm against your forehead. “I promise, cyar'ika.” You knew how much he meant it, and felt some of the tension bleed out of you as you stayed safely in his arms.

You walked for a long time before you neared the coordinates the officer had given you, winding through the remains of what must have been a beautiful forest before it was destroyed. The city must have gotten some material use out of stripping the landscape bare, but it wouldn’t have surprised you if the Magistrate had ordered it just for the sake of inflicting further destruction. It stretched on for miles, this barren wasteland, and the skeletal remains were so tangled together that it was often difficult to get through.

You ducked under a heavy, fallen trunk, minding your head carefully - though you hadn’t been hurt yet, your usually composed husband had endured a comical amount of aggravations during your hike. His cloak snagged on every little thing, he’d smacked his helmet stepping under a fallen tree, and he’d tripped so dramatically over a hidden root that you’d had to hold onto him for support as you doubled over in deep, hearty laughter. He’d grumbled good-naturedly as he let you lean on his arm, and eventually he'd started laughing too. It worked wonders to ease your tension and fatigue, and your baby had giggled with you, delighted to see his parents so amused.

Now, though, Din’s posture had straightened a little more as the tracker on his vambrace gave a chime. He pulled the strap of his Amban rife over his head and held the weapon in a relaxed but ready position.

“Well, these are the coordinates,” he told you, walking forward as he scanned the area. “Keep your eyes open. We must be close.”

He tapped the side of his helmet to activate his HUD; you looked around, unsure if you’d be able to spot anything that was trying to hide with the sun sinking low and the fog creeping in.

A far-off sound, like a tree being snapped in two, made you jump; an unfriendly animal screech followed, and you closed the small distance between you and your husband.

“You hear that?” he asked.

You nodded, grabbing his arm just below his pauldron. He gave your hand a distracted pat, trying to comfort you and stay aware of your surroundings at the same time.

“Don’t worry,” he said. He nodded to a boulder lodged in a mass of tree roots to your right. “Stay right here. Let me see what’s out there.”

You did as he said, cradling your baby close and worrying your bottom lip as Din took the sight off his rifle. He used it to scan the mass of scraggly trees ahead; you looked that way too, though you didn't hope to see anything he wouldn’t.

His gaze snagged on something, and he relaxed. “False alarm,” he said. “It’s just - ”

A bright, loud hiss came from behind you; for a second, all you could make out was a brilliant white light. Moving on instinct, you shielded your baby with your body, the unmistakable sound of weapons hitting beskar ringing in your ears.

Read chapter three!

pedro pascal character taglist: @punkgeekchic, @tv-saved-the-teenage-girl, @stardust-galaxies, @theorganasolo, @qhbr2013 ♡

series taglist: @kyjoraven, @sarahjkl82-blog, @remmysbounty, @bitchin-beskar, @cosmicbreathe, @prettyboyskywalker, @happyxdayxbitch, @radiowallet ♡

let me know if you’d like to be added to either taglist! ♡

#big strong protective men who are actually gentle as hell???? that's like crack to me #let me know what you think :)#din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian #aay'han mar'eyce #jate'kara series #maddie writes stuff!

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fanfoolishness · 5 years ago

Text

Finding the Way (The Mandalorian)

(Cara Dune & Din Djarin. After the events of The Rescue, Din Djarin could use a friend. Cara Dune doesn’t know what it means to be a Mandalorian, but some things are universal. Friendship, angst, alcohol, religious questioning. ~2400 words.)

***

She found Din Djarin alone, after the Jedi left with the child.

Cara wasn’t sure exactly when he’d slipped away from the bridge; there’d been a lot happening. Bo-Katan and Kosca had been deep in conversation about their next destination, Fennec was pinging Boba to set up a rendezvous, and she’d busied herself with gagging the unconscious Moff and stowing him away in a corner with extra restraints. The bastard had a lot to answer for.

In all that, though, she hadn’t wanted to look at the Mandalorian without his helmet. It had felt too private, too close, to watch his goodbye with the kid. Once the Jedi left, it seemed he’d taken advantage of her inattention.

Without a ship, though, he hadn’t gone far. He’d only been missing for fifteen minutes or so when she realized and started searching for him on the security console. She gave a hasty request for the others to watch the Moff -- not as if Bo-Katan would let him try anything else -- and took the lift downstairs.

She found him the next floor down from the bridge, inside the officers’ mess. The half-opened door was scored with blaster fire; likely Din’s work when the doors wouldn’t open for him. She peered in through the half-opened door, glancing away when she saw his mussed brown hair, a glimpse of his face. She still wasn’t used to it, and still wasn’t sure if it was okay for her to see him like this.

“It’s me,” she called, rapping on the door with her knuckles. Surprising a Mandalorian was a surefire way to an early grave. “Can I come in?”

His voice sounded strange without the mechanical filter. Human. Almost small. “Do what you want.”

That was encouraging, at least. He wasn’t kicking her out entirely.

She entered the room, rolling her eyes at Imperial waste. Real wood paneling lined the walls, and instead of the spartan standard issue bench tables in the rank-and-file’s mess, individual tables with sleek surfaces and cushioned chairs dotted the room. Gideon himself must have taken meals here.

Din sat at the bar at the back of the room. There was a half-drunk cup of liquor beside him, his helmet resting next to it, its visor turned away from him.

“So… you okay?” Cara hazarded, taking the seat beside him. It looked like he’d made a decent dent in a slim bottle of aged Corellian whiskey. Only the best for the officers, of course. This stuff went for big credits in the Core, enough so that she’d never tasted it herself.

“I’m fine.” He didn’t look at her. He just stared straight ahead at the wall, brown eyes fixed on nothing in particular. From the corner of her eye she could see the color of his face seemed off, red and blotchy in places. Hell. He’d been crying.

Her stomach twisted. “Look… I’m sorry about the kid. I know that had to be hard.”

He was silent for a moment. When he spoke again, his voice was strained. “Grogu.”

“Sorry?”

“I found another Jedi a few weeks back. She said she couldn’t train him, but she was able to talk to him, mind to mind. He told her about his life before I found him. His name is Grogu.”

“Huh. Grogu.” She chuckled. “It’s cute. Suits him.”

A slight dip of his head, angled toward her. He was very still. She could see a muscle in his cheek twitching.

Blast. She was no good at this crap. She fished around for something to say, something that could help. Maybe she could get him to talk; listening might be easier. “You’re sure you’re fine? Because you don’t look fine.”

“I needed to help him find a Jedi,” Din said hoarsely. “I did what I was tasked to do. This is the W—“

But he cut himself off, turning his face away from her. His whole head moved to the side to shift his gaze, remnants of long years wearing a helmet. Every martial style had its tells, and she could see the differences between the ways Bo-Katan and Koska moved, and how the man beside her moved and battled. He was different from them, in fundamental ways, but she wasn’t sure why they could remove their helmets and he couldn’t. Until he did.

Cara shook her head. Think of something helpful. You can do this. “He’s gonna be okay, you know,” she said suddenly. “I know who that was. We droppers heard rumors during the war that a powerful Jedi took out the Emperor on Endor. It has to be him. Skywalker. What other Jedi would fly in here in an X-Wing?”

“Good,” said Din. He still wouldn’t look at her. “So the Imps will never take him again.”

“I’d like to see them try. I never knew a Jedi could do that,” said Cara. She’d heard stories, of course, but stories were one thing. Proof was another. “I’m just glad he was on our side.”

Din turned back to facing forward, jaw tensed. He nodded, a tight gesture that somehow seemed too broad for him. Without the helmet, it was disconcerting to see emotions popping up on his face, vanishing as quickly as they came -- sorrow, pain, shame. It almost would have been funny if it wasn’t so hard to look at. Live your life in a helmet, guess you never have to learn to control your face.

She took a guess at the emotion that flicked past, marked in the set of his eyes, the downturned lines at his mouth. “I’m sure you’ll see him again.”

“Maybe,” he said, and his gloved hands clenched on the table surface. He reached out and took a drink.

“I didn’t know you drank,” she said.

“I don’t.” His throat worked as he swallowed and drained the glass.

Oh. “Right.”

She reached out and took the bottle from him, pulling back a long slug on it. It burned, clean and fierce, but it was strong stuff. No wonder it sold for the price it did; she was surprised he wasn’t slurring already. “Be careful with this stuff, then. It’s not for lightweights.”

“I’ll be fine,” he said, then lapsed again into quiet.

Like talking to a durasteel wall, she thought. “Look, I wanted to make sure you were okay. That was rough up there. I just -- if you want to talk about it, or something, I can listen.” She leaned back in her chair, taking another drink of whiskey. It seared. “That’s all I’m trying to say.”

He turned toward her, canting his whole head instead of just moving his eyes. There it was again, the tell that he’d lived in his helmet for a long, long time. He took a deep breath, but he still couldn’t make eye contact with her.

“I know he has to do this. I can’t teach him, not the way he needs. I have -- I had to let him go,” he said. The words sounded well-practiced, like he’d said them many times before.

“I know,” she said. “I’m so sorry.” She tried a small smile, though her eyes watered suddenly. “He -- Grogu -- he was crazy about you, you know?”

A slight shrug, shoulders scarcely moving.

“Well, he was. Looked up to you like anything. You guys have a bond.”

“I did what I could for him,” said Din, closing his eyes. “I hope it’s enough.”

“It is,” said Cara fiercely. “You loved him, man. No kid could ask for more than that.”

He was silent, and when he opened his eyes again, she could see that they were damp.

She swallowed, took another drink, unsure of what to say. The quiet filled the space around them, a weighty, crushing thing.

Eventually she forced herself to speak again, casting around for something to say. “So…. They’re making arrangements upstairs. We’ll be rendezvousing with Fett soon, but you’re always welcome on Nevarro, too. Greef was heartbroken when I told him the Imps had the kid again, so I know he’d want to help you now. Have you thought about where you want to go?”

“I don’t know.” He turned away again, shoulders squaring beneath his armor.

“Well, if you don’t want to stay planetside for a while, it sounds like those other Mandalorians want your help. Honestly, if anyone could take back Mandalore, I’d put even credits on them. And on you. Dank farrik, you even have that sword now.”

“I don’t want it,” he bit out.

“Yeah, I heard. But you have it. May as well use it, right? Why give up a tactical advantage?” asked Cara. “Sounds like it belongs in the hands of a Mandalorian anyway.”

“All the more reason for me not to wield it,” said Din, and there was something sour, something wrong, in the way his face twisted.

She stared at him, raising her eyebrows. “What? Wait. Are you saying —“

“I broke the Creed. I showed my face,” he said, his voice cracking. “I had a choice, and this is what I chose. I am no longer worthy of my beskar.”

Cara tried wrapping her mind around it, remembered dragging him in from the battlefield, his blood hot and slick on her hand, the panic in his voice when she tried to remove his helmet to save his life. “You chose to show your face to your child who needed you. You did the right thing for you both.” It didn’t make sense to her. “I thought your people wanted to help foundlings. Well, you helped him!”

“It is forbidden,” he forced out.

“You’re still a Mandalorian—”

Anger, grief, pain, rapid-fire flashes in his eyes and face, every muscle tensing for battle. “You have never sworn the Creed. You know nothing about it!”

She bristled, fighting the urge to say something harsh, or worse, throw a punch at him to knock the sense back into him. Beside her he was breathing harder, chest visibly rising and falling rapidly. She bit her lip.

“Okay, okay, maybe I don’t know what it’s like to be a Mandalorian,” Cara admitted sharply, lifting her hands to calm him. “But I do know what it’s like to turn away from something you spent your whole life believing. Alderaan had no army, remember?”

He breathed a little slower. The flush of red in his face receded. “You never told me why you became a soldier. I assumed, after what happened --”

Her mouth twisted. “Close, but not exactly. I started seeing what my people couldn’t, before it happened. The Empire was rising and people were dying. Diplomacy stopped working a long time ago. When I told my family I had to fight, even if that meant killing, they turned their backs on me.”

“They were blind,” said Din. “The Imps weren’t going to stop expanding with peaceful protest.”

“Maybe,” she said. This was the hard part. The part that had taken her years to understand, that she was still trying to figure out. “I think now… we wanted the same thing. We just saw different paths to peace. They thought pacifism was the way. I saw the Empire killing people, terrorizing them, and that wasn’t peace. I had to fight for peace to even begin to exist.” She wiped her cheek, fingertips brushing over the tattooed Tear. “So I was offworld, trying to become a new recruit, when the Empire showed Alderaan what they thought about peaceful resistance.”

“I’m sorry.”

She gave him a tight, painful smile. “But the thing is, Mando, I’m still Alderaanian. No one can take that away from me but me. Not the Empire, not my family, not the royal house of Alderaan. Even if my family didn’t understand why I did what I did, I knew I was fighting to bring peace. That’s what makes me Alderaanian.” No matter what.

He gazed at the beskar helmet, shining beneath the overhead lights. Its black visor was an empty void, disconnected from its bearer.

She let out a bark of a laugh, blinking away tears. “I don’t know, man. It’s your life. Your Way. But if your Way won’t let you show your face to your own kid when he needs you, maybe some of those rules should change. If you still feel like a Mandalorian, I think that’s what makes you one, and not what anybody else says.”

He closed his eyes, hanging his head slightly. He shifted in his seat with a small clink, one armored arm now resting against his helmet. “I don’t know what I am now.”

Cara took another drink from the bottle, finishing the last of the whiskey. “We’ve got two women up there who’d kill you in a heartbeat if you said they weren’t Mandalorian, and they show their faces clear as day.” She shrugged. “Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to talk to them about some of this stuff. You could put it together with the old Way and make something new, something that feels right. But for what it’s worth, Mando… you’ll always be a Mandalorian in my eyes.” She clapped a hand over his shoulder, the beskar cool beneath her palm.

“It’s not --” He struggled, mouth thinning, before he let out a long breath. “That’s very kind,” he said slowly. He turned his head to look at her at last, searching her face. He looked strangely vulnerable like this, far more so than he had dying in the dust of Nevarro.

She nodded, attempting to smile, her mouth not quite getting there. “Well, it’s true.”

His face shifted into uncertainty. “Perhaps the Way of the Mandalore is not… the only way to be a Mandalorian.” He looked down at his helmet and swallowed. “I’ll speak with the others, at least.”

“It’ll take time,” Cara said softly. “You don’t have to figure it out right away. Just… maybe hang on to your armor for a while, that’s all.”

He was quiet. “Thank you. Truly.”

“Sure,” Cara said, nudging him with her shoulder and giving him a quick smile. “Any time. After all, what are friends for?” She leaned over the counter, pulling down another bottle of Corellian whiskey and grabbing an empty glass. “What do you say to a toast?”

A dry chuckle. “Sure. You’ll have to tell me if I’m doing it right. I’ve never done this before.”

“I think you’ll get the idea.” She poured them each a glass, and raised hers high until it caught the light. “To Grogu.”

The edges of his mouth turned up, just slightly. Just enough. He raised his glass to clink to hers, his brown eyes bright, his voice warm. “To Grogu.”

The whiskey burned in her throat, clean and pure. To finding the Way.

#the mandalorian #cara dune #carasynthia dune #din djarin #noromo mando #star wars #the child #grogu #my mando fic

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umaficwriter · 4 years ago

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SOUVENIR IS AMONG US!

KALIJAH SMUT DARINGS!

I was feeling like shit and started this weeks ago, finally came to finish it and kinda don’t give a damn about how it turned out, still, hope you like it!

You can read it on AO3 or FFNET or even, down below this lovely gifs.

The light breeze of a New York’ spring night passed through Katherine mahogany curly strands as she admired Jane and Greenwich street down ten floors below. She engulfed a full breath, filling her lungs with the not so clear night air, cigarette smoke coming from the party on full swing behind her.

The balcony was empty. She had compelled anyone that came in her direction away, so it would stay that way.

Finally, Katherine Pierce had piece of mind.

She had run for so long, firstly from her past in Bulgaria, then from Klaus and all that his figure entailed, then she ran from him when he found her. And then she had made her escape when he failed her once again.

Elijah Mikaelson.

Not her biggest mistake, nor regret, but close enough to discomfort to make chills arouse in her body when she recalled his figure. His suits represented an armor she once thought she would be able to penetrate. Oh, was she wrong.

For he could never be truly hers.

Elijah was like an expensive gift you bought someone, just to regret later you gave it away when in fact you wanted it to yourself, when on his part. he seemed to consider her, them a disposable souvenir.

New York back in August, tenth floor balcony Smoke is floating over Jane and Greenwich street

Katherine leaned over the steel railing, aiming her vision to the busy Big Apple streets. Her heightened senses catching the environment around her. The faint smell of putrid trash from the alley couple blocks away, the blinding headlights of cars so tiny from where she stood. The wind picking up the hairs on her arms, giving her body an enjoyable hum. The cigarette smoke entering the balcony from the lounge party behind her, the smell of sweat and sex lingering in the air coming from the humans inside the giant apartment that wasn’t hers.

She should go back down to hell; she was its Queen after all. Mystic Falls people had been so naïve believing she would die after the tunnels caught fire…

She was Katherine Pierce, a survivor, of the upscale kind, caring for her life, being it as a vampire or otherwise.

She had woken up, without Stefan, completely naked in the throne that had been hers for sometime now.

A smile had creeped itself on her features, her limbs stretching as if she was a sated cat after a long afternoon nap.

Since then, she had given up on tormenting that filthy gang. Stefan was truly dead, although not in Hell, for Katherine’s dismay. She wished she could enslave him for eternity, albeit looked like it wouldn’t happen.

Shrugging, Katherine looked over her shoulder to the gathering inside the condo. She didn’t know anyone there, as expected, she didn’t live in this world anymore. She was just passing by the human land, and soon enough, she would go back to Hell to ruin her tormenting souls even more.

Another strong breeze floated the NYC night, and that was when she felt it.

At first, only a discomfort in the pit of her stomach, similar of when she was being followed, or observed. Case being the latter tonight.

Goosebumps from your wild eyes when they're watchin' me

The smell the wind brought was rich blood, expensive cologne, leather from Italian shoes, moving in her direction.

Her unliving heartbeat scaled, for she knew very well whom was walking inside the recently opened balcony glass’ doors, bringing the blasting music to her ears.

Katherine didn’t dare uttering words, she maintained her position as the man closed the doors behind him, muffling the sound from the party once more.

Was he to think she was her doppelganger?

Katherine would prefer he did not make that mistake. She also knew he would not.

His presence was enough to make shivers run down her spine. Katherine wasn’t fazed by what they had in the past. She had decided to bury those feelings deep inside, still he awoke a brutal wave of desire inside her. And as a supernatural creature, her emotions were as heightened as of a vampire, if not more, considering she fed from souls as well as blood. The latter just for reminiscing the thrill of the hunt.

Shivers dance down my spine and head down to my feet

The hot night wind picked up her skin and she hugged herself, running her hands through her arms, before directing her speech at him.

“The noble, family-oriented brother so far from home. I wonder why is that?” her voice was laced with sarcasm, although Elijah picked up a faint tone of hurting. He couldn’t blame her.

After Niklaus’ death, Elijah had bid his family goodbye and decided against settling in New Orleans. Marcel had claimed his throne back, for being king had never been Elijah’s call.

Hope was attending the Salvatore Boarding School and he didn’t see the need to disturb his niece education, still he visited her and even took her to vacations when the time called for it.

Elijah had chosen traveling the world instead, although always coming back to the US for his supernatural business, New York to be precise.

The city always brought good memories into his troubled mind.

It reminded him of the second woman he had loved. So deeply, her name remained engraved in his heart and soul.

Elijah was aware he didn’t have any right to claim her, nor search for Katerina, so he had not.

He had talked to Alaric once about her whereabouts and it was then he had discovered of her last attempt in destroying them. They believed she had died in the fire.

Elijah never had.

She hadn’t the first time in 1864, she wouldn’t have this time around.

Still, imagine his surprise when he caught her silhouette in the veranda at a party one of his associates was throwing.

He wasn’t to attend, he never did. Petty, unimportant things he would justify. Except, this night he was strangely bored by his usual book and wine program, hence his presence.

Elijah couldn’t say he regretted it.

From the moment he walked into the large apartment, loud music and abusive expanse of drugs had surrounded him. The Original had gone to the bar and ordered various doses of whiskey, before his business subordinate had found him, urging him to mingle around the gathering, and have a proper drink.

Elijah had bled various wrists inside his glass, being slightly intoxicated by substances within the blood he fed from.

And that was when he saw her.

Alone over the balcony, her slender body hugged by a lace black dress, her hair in soft waves adorning her stance and stopping over the middle of her spine.

That was, without a shadow of doubt, Katerina Petrova.

“Niklaus is dead,”

“I know,” she turned around to finally face him. “Lucifer fed from his soul,” Elijah saw the faintest of smiles quirking over her lips.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I assure you, he doesn’t remember who he is, so it’s no fun torture him,” she justified, for she knew that was what he wanted to know. “Although, he deserves it anyway, for everything he caused me,”

Elijah looked down at his expensive shinny shoes.

“Apologies are never going to fix that,”

“No, they won’t,” agreed the brunette woman.

“And what you’ve been up to?” the trivial question floated from the man’s mouth as he moved beside her and leaned his back over the steel banister.

Katherine mirrored his position with her wine glass in hand and almost scoffed with his bluntness. It was clear he already knew what she had been up to.

“You already know, skip the small talk, what is it you want from me?” she questioned before downing the last of her drink, setting her glass over the nearest surface. “I mean, aside from everything you’ve already taken, obviously,”

He deserved that; he also would take it.

“I’ve got word you’ve been ruling over Hell, although I was never certain of the veracity in this tête-a-tête,”

She rolled her eyes. Elijah was much smarter than that.

“You want to know about my line of work?” she asked a little taken aback, after all, what kind of mundane questioning was that?

“Well, you don’t seem too keen talking about our past, do you, Katerina?” he glanced at her from the corner of his eyes.

She gave him that credit.

He wanted a civil conversation? She could do that.

“I feed from blood just for the rush of it, although what I really need, all inhabitants from Hell for that matter, to survive is: souls.”

He nodded in understandment. “Any soul?”

Katherine shook her head “Supernatural souls,”

The pair didn’t utter a word for a little while.

“How’s your life without your brother?” she questioned. For anyone knowing their history, would claim she was only being cruel. Maybe a little bit yes, but Katherine really wanted to know how he felt.

Maybe she refused her devoted heart from breaking, but she still held Elijah dear. The Petrova only had a different way of showing it.

“Never thought life could be this calm,” he honestly answered, a ghost of a smile dancing in his features.

She smiled and turned her face at him.

“Do you miss him?” she already knew the answer, still she couldn’t avoid it from going out there.

“You already know the answer to that, Katerina,”

“True,”

“At first, I couldn’t stop thinking about him,” Elijah prompted and crossed his arms and legs in front of him. “but then, time has passed, and grief ran its course…” he paused “now he’s a pleasant and hurtful memory,”

“Just as me, I presume?”

He turned his upper body at her, unfolding his arms and passing his hands through his short brown hair.

“Just as you were half an hour ago,” he confirmed.

“You really did give up on us, didn’t you?”

He let out a heavy shudder “I couldn’t promise you anything, they’re were broken words, like stiches. It was shattered glass we could not put back together to perfection, so I let you be,” she didn’t turn her head back at him. “I’ve never forgotten about you, if that’s what you’re asking.”

“You never came to say goodbye,” he didn’t respond to that “you know, Damon showed me a version of you with me, when I was in my deathbed, then you dissipated into his face and he promised he would kill you,”

“I’d like to see him try,”

“He’s human now,”

Elijah seemed surprised in hearing that piece of news; Alaric had never mentioned that, also he had never asked.

He turned to face the sky and the street ten floors down, she didn’t mirror his posture this time.

“What should I call you? To summon you.”

She let out a chuckle.

“That’s not how it works, Elijah,”

His name floating from her lips, made him aim his looks at her and smirk in amusement.

“You didn’t respond me, what is it Katherine and Katerina do?”

The woman looked down at her Jimmy Choos’ and folded her arms in front of her lace covered chest.

“Katherine rules Hell with iron fists, has no mercy whatsoever, never had, but when she comes up to the land of the living, she drinks nice wine, walks long distances…”

“What about Katerina?”

“She cooks,” they both smiled at that “and read lots of romance novels that remind her of what she never had,”

“You did have love,”

“You, then Stefan, then you again,” she pointed out unfolding her arms and counting on her fingers to emphasize. “and look how that turned out,”

Elijah looked away back into the beautiful night.

“What is it you want, Elijah?” it was her turn to question.

“Right at this moment?”

She turned her head in his direction. His eyes were locked with hers, his nose almost touching hers, his breath dancing in her face.

“Yes,” she whispered looking down through her lashes, just to look inside his eyes once more.

“You,” he whispered back and didn’t gave her time to refuse him as he advanced his lips to touch hers in a long kiss.

Katherine’s arms wrapped around his shoulders as their kiss deepened, his tongue invaded her mouth in a ferrous battle while his arms circled her waist in a vice grip, bringing her closer with nothing in between them aside from their clothes.

Elijah let out a groan when she bit his lower lip hard making it bleed, which she latched on looking up at him through her long lashes. He hissed and used one of his hands to grip the rail when she descended one of hers to the front of his trousers, fondling his half-hard member.

“Katerina,” he nibbled on her earlobe, while he moved her hand. His whisper sounding needy, and that was what he was indeed.

Elijah moved his mouth to her neck descending to the feminine jaw, ‘till he reached her plump lips again, but Katherine had other plans in mind.

The brunette woman pushed him away, until his back hit the far corner of the veranda. Elijah new what was to come. Usually, he would give her pleasure first, but she looked irrefutable into having him the way she wanted.

Katherine unzipped his slacks while attacking his mouth, his hands gliding along her slim arms, arousing modest shudders from her.

You're giving me chills at a hundred degrees

She separated herself from his mouth and descended her body, kneeling in front of him. Freeing his length from its cloth prison, Katherine looked up at him and smirked deviously.

“Now you’ve summoned me, I must show you the extent of my abilities,”

Elijah smirked back at her, and it transformed into a board smile when he felt her hot mouth on him.

Her lips surrounding his penis felt amazing. Her skilled tongue swirling around him, making him murmur with excitement, while she bobbed her head making him harder than he was before.

His member pulsating inside her mouth made Katherine heart beat faster, he was delicious, and the sensations she was causing him, the sounds he was making as he slowly let himself relax, encouraged her to suck him harder and faster.

Her mouth left his member, as Elijah grabbed the back of her head, moving her face away from his lower region and bringing her to him, to engulf her in a passionate kiss.

Elijah spun her around and made her sit on the steel railing. With a swift move, he moved her panties away and ran his fingers through her folds, feeling how ready she was, he inserted two fingers, while she gripped his suit clad arms with such force Elijah didn’t know if it would heal as fast as it should.

The Original kept his slow pace, and when he felt her walls clenching his digits, he removed them from her, receiving a disapproving wail.

Katherine reopened her eyes only to close them shut, as Elijah replaced his fingers for his engorged shaft, filling her up with a strong thrust.

“Oh God!” she proclaimed and held his shoulders tighter.

“If saying that was wrong before, I can’t imagine how much more it is now,” he mocked as he kissed her neck and Katherine smirked, sighing as he moved almost all out of her, just to pump back in with another hard thrust.

She guided her mouth to his neck and moved his shirt collar away, biting him hard, while he started moving frenetic into her, searching their deliverance.

As their breathing shallowed signalizing their approaching climax, Elijah moved them to the glass doors.

Neither giving a damn about someone watching them.

Katherine’s back hit the surface hard, while she let out a moan appreciating the pain and feeling Elijah’s penis never leaving her aching core.

The man stopped his pace and observed the woman in his arms.

Her chest moving up and down, her face flushed and her lower lip between her teeth.

Katherine opened her doe orbs and looked straight into his.

All sounds dulled around. Her blood pumped hard against her hot skin.

“Tell me what you want,” he prompted in a throaty whisper, his whiskey-blood-laced breath hitting her face, his words transforming her insides into puddle.

She smirked and leaned her head ‘till her mouth touched his earlobe, pulling it with her teeth.

“I want you to finish what you started and fuck m-“

Elijah thrusted deep while Katherine swallowed her words.

An almost animalistic groan left her lips while he continuedly kept going, the hot friction creating a delicious sensation, building more and more, until the stars in the night sky mingled with the ones behind her closed eyelids.

Katherine didn’t speak his name when she came, although he whispered hers in a prayer to the devil herself.

His seed ran down her thighs as he collected himself and helped her lower her dress.

Neither elaborating on what had just happened.

Calling your name, the only language I can speak Taking my breath, a souvenir that you can keep

They met again two months later.

Mid October’ sundown shone beautifully over New York skyline while Katherine Pierce sashayed into the luxurious hotel lobby.

Elijah had invited her into his apartment in the 5th avenue, although the she-devil wanted to keep things carnal only, and frequent his place was opposite to that.

So, she had suggested a random hotel.

Knowing full well he would choose the one they’d stayed when looking for the Cure a lifetime ago.

Sunset tower lobby, waiting there for me

And there he stood.

In all his glorified tailoress. Armani suit, combed back hair, elegant and subtle. Not giving away what was about to happen a few floors up in just a couple instants.

At the sound of high heels on the marble floors, Elijah looked up, smiling at the figure approaching.

He was hopeful she would come, as a good serve he waited so. Although regarding the possibility she could not.

Fortunately, he had been wrong.

They don’t greet using words, but he ghosts a hand on the small of her back, as he guided them to the elevator. Her hand grazes his upper thigh when they enter the gold metal box, he stands behind her, hovering over his new favorite thing in the world.

Guess she always has been, he only had just remembered one of the reasons why.

Katherine waits for the elevator to shut its double doors, before turning her neck to look over her shoulder, encountering his face inches from hers.

She smirks with the proximity that wasn’t uncomfortable anymore.

She leans up and captures his lips with hers in a sensual kiss. Her tongue darts out to touch his and that’s when Elijah moves them to the lift’s wall, his hands multiplying as he tried and touch her every inch at the same time.

Katherine’s head hangs back as he explores her neck with his mouth, only a hint of his fangs coming out to play and that pulls a moan from her throat.

When the transport dings its destination, he reluctantly breaks their contact, and lets her out into the presidential floor first.

In the elevator, fumble for your key Kissed in every corner, Presidential Suite

Opened a Bordeaux from 1993

When Elijah opens up the room’s door, contrary of what Katherine thought, he does’t jump right back at where they left.

He aims his steps to the light’ switch and dims it, leaving the room in a comfortable yellow glow.

Outside the twilight shows itself purple and orange, subtly letting the night in.

Elijah goes for the glass’ center table, and only then she notices the wine bottle as well as two glasses siting there.

He had thought everything through then, huh?

What did he think this was?

A reconciliation encounter?

Even with those questions inside her head, she collected her tongue and accepted the wine glass when he offered it to her.

“My favorite,” she quips after tasting the grape fermented juice.

He sheepishly smiles at her , downing his own drink.

Putting her glass aside, she goes to him. Her walk purposeful, her heeled feet tapping on the hardwood floors, her hips swaying, and Elijah appreciates the sight.

Elijah deposits his glass by the side table and backings until he reaches the king sized bed.

“And now what?” he quips, his voice low and husky as he leans back, sitting on the mattress, his chin up high to face her standing figure.

“I though you had it all figured out, my Lord,” she taunts, tilting her head and smirking at him.

Elijah chuckles and meets her cockiness.

“Oh, but I do,”

Katherine’s eyes go wide, her lips forming an ‘o’.

“Is that so?” she pushes and leans herself forward, her hands gripping his parted knees.

Elijah’ smile doesn’t leave his face as he contemplates her mannerisms.

Katherine’s face is closer now, her wine hot breath blows on his face, as he looks through his lashes at her plump lips.

How he missed touching her.

But he lets her have her fun, looking back into her cocoa orbs.

Like a cat she’s slow on her actions, calculating every slight move while she climbs in bed straddling his thighs.

Her eyes never leave his and their wordless communication turns her on just as much as his touch.

Speaking of, why wasn’t he?

“Afraid I’m gonna burn you?”

“If anything is I who burns for you, Katerina,” he justifies, his head going to the hollow of her neck and shoulder, grazing his teeth there.

She hisses with the caress and her hands travel from his knees to his shoulders, moving his suit jacket away from his frame.

With his tongue darting out to taste her neck, Elijah whispers in her ear

“Delicious just as the forbidden fruit,”

“Rich, since you’re tasting the devil herself,”

He chuckles again and takes a yelp out of her sinking his fangs deep into her flesh and vamp speeding them to the nearest wall.

The coherence escapes the doppelganger as the sensations of shared blood curse through her body.

Her legs are wrapped strongly around her lover’s waist and his member is pressing between her jean-clad legs, and it feels like heaven, more so when unconsciously, Elijah starts to thrust forward into her.

“Oh, yes…” her breath is caught up her windpipe.

The sharp nails tinted black she possesses go to his man shirt and tear the fabric apart to find his bare back and scratch it with will.

His groan as he moves his head from her jugular is guttural and makes her chill in excitement.

Elijah’s fangs are out, his lips red from her blood and the veins around his eyes are prominent.

He’s the beast she wants and when she goes to kiss him, he trumps her, enveloping them in a bruising lip locking.

The Original dismisses her jacket and blouse like rag, although leaves her bra on, vamp speeding them back to bed, throwing her over the soft surface.

Katherine gets rid of her jeans and boots as the man does the same with his garments, leaving only his boxers on.

If she was to be the she-devil, he certainly was a Greek God.

Elijah’s body was built, strong and as his fangs subsided, his beauty screamed old world elegance, even more so alluring with his bloody face.

He’s standing at the foot of the bed, staring at her hungrily, his chocolate irises almost didn’t show such was his lust.

Katherine knew better than thinking her eyes were any different.

She knelt over the bed. Her hair tousled, lips parted, black lace adorning her flawless body.

Neither moved further.

It was a battle of sorts.

Who would give in first?

Katherine didn’t like losing.

Although she despised wasting time.

And thinking of that she makes her crawling to him.

A hunting peer.

She was the beast now.

Her lips reach for him.

She kisses his navel, going up to his stomach as she feels his muscles contracting there. She looks up and Elijah has his eyes half opened, trying to fight the urge to let it completely go.

Katherine giggles mischievously and ascends her kisses to his nipples, as he finally touches her again.

His hands going directly to her breasts and squeezing them through the fabric of her bra.

Katherine’s nose is nuzzling his jaw as she hums her approval. The wetness of her tongue darts out to taste her dried blood of his face, her hands running through his hair while she pulls that back, making his neck available for her to taste.

And drink.

And as she laps her tongue, filling her body with rich Original blood, Elijah moves her panties out of the way, inserting a long digit inside of her.

Katherine stops her feeding to moan into his neck while he joins another finger in.

“Don’t stop…” she pleads and he has no intention to whatsoever.

Just as expertly, her skilled hands take his briefs off the way, the heat of her palm in contact with his erect shaft.

Elijah lets out a grunt while moving his ministrations in her pussy faster, seeking her release just as she does his.

The scene was sensual, erotic in its maximum, the blood she spills when she comes with a loud wail runs down his neck and chest, just as her juices travel down his hand and wrist.

She’s panting, in her mind only his face and form.

With a strong tug, the eldest vampire alive takes off her bra, throwing the material carelessly behind him and pushes his Katerina down onto the now stained red sheets, as his head and lips descend on her hard nipples.

He plays with them, biting and soothing it after with a blow, making her writhe beneath him.

“Lijah…” she implored.

But for what?

For him to make her cum again?

For the Original vampire to let her go?

Was she begging for release? Of what kind?

Katherine liked to think herself headstrong, but when he touched her like this, doing what only he knew how and for how long and how intense, she couldn’t straight her thoughts. Every pierce of knowledge she knew of flew through the window and the only thing left were the increasing sensations.

She didn’t know how to love anymore.

For if she did, this would be their lovemaking.

As it always has been.

Although, Elijah certainly awakened something inside her being.

Something he knew how to tame.

Calling your name, the only language I can speak Taking my breath, a souvenir that you can keep

Slowly letting her flesh mounds go, Elijah trailed down kisses until he was facing her wet entrance.

Katherine’ soft gasps echoed around the room as the man sucked her clit and gripped her thighs so forcefully, restraining himself from devouring her in one go.

Teeth grazed sensible skin and his breath oh so close washed away every curse she had in mind to praise him.

The woman could only make wonderful sounds as she moved her hips in encounter with his face.

“So sinfully divine,” he complimented, shifting his position to kiss her inner thighs not allowing her to come a second time.

“Says the saint,” ironized the girl her hands up gripping the sheets, her boobs moving with her heavy breathing.

Elijah chuckled in response.

“Am not. Regardless, Katerina let me blessedly cherish you just as such,” a raised eyebrow and a light lift of his lips, as well as those chocolate irises were all Katherine had time to process, before he was plugged to her, filling her to the hilt.

Her surprised shriek, followed by a whisper of his name fueled Elijah to take himself all out and thrust with no mercy once again.

“Fuck! Yes!” she exclaimed closing her eyes with the wonderous building up sensation growing on her lower abdomen. Circling her legs around his middle, draping her arms over his shoulders, Katherine moved her hips in encounter to his.

Male hands were everywhere as he fucked her deep. His mane being tousled by her fingers as she grunted in his ear.

“You’re such an obedient subject,” she played with the words, nibbling his earlobe as their bodies shook with the force of their bang.

He moved his head from her neck to look at her, a glimmer shinning in his beautiful eyes, as he moved her away from him.

Katherine was to open her mouth in protest, only a moan came instead when he palmed her pussy and flipped her on her stomach.

“However, I might cherish you the way I choose to,” the sultry velvet pouring out of his mouth, as well as his fingers assaulting her labia were enough to make her body shudder in a second orgasm.

Katherine was almost begging for him to enter her again.

Almost.

She bit her lower lip and enjoyed as he so subtly ran the tip of his penis along her entrance.

“Enough teasing,” she commanded after an instant, albeit her body moved back and forth to try and get him inside of her.

“And what do you want me to do, Katerina?”

Maybe she should be preoccupied this man could replace her as the devil, he certainly knew about torture.

On her hands and knees she turned her head back, her long curly hair slapping the bed, and watched the precum dripping from him.

Tempting.

“You’re gonna fuck me, with that gorgeous cock of your-“

Her hands automatically sought the wooden headboard as the vampire reentered her from behind efficiently.

A ragged breathy moan accompanied by a wave of pleasure shook the doppelganger as he deliberately inserted himself in and out of her.

His hands firm on her waist guiding her to the rhythm of his groaning.

“Katerina,” he loudly whispered seeking them both their ultimate bliss.

The sound of his palm colliding with her buttchecks made her yelp in surprise and laugh in delight.

She always liked it rough and Elijah knew it. That was exactly why he full fisted pulled her hair back as he increased the speed of his thrusts.

“Say that I fuck you like no one else does,”

She closed her eyes when his breath hit her ear. A wide cat smile appearing on her features when he enveloped her neck in his hand, aiming for lightly choking her while still moving, only slower now.

“Like you needed the reassurance,” she shot back with a groan when he went deeper.

Elijah smiled closing his hand tighter around her slim neck.

“I want to hear you say it,” he prompted taking his member almost all off and going in slapping their bodies together.

“Yes!” she chocked hanging her head back.

Elijah felt her walls clenching around him, so he retreated himself letting his fangs come out once again.

Katherine moaned in pleasure when his vampire teeth sank on her shoulder, his moves slow and languid.

This was to be the most amazing torture out there.

She wanted to let go, although without ever leave.

“Harder,” her command was clear and he bit her deeper on her shoulder.

“Faster!” she pleaded against her better judgment and felt his balls hitting on her pussy.

It was animalistic the way he was having her. Devouring her in all ways he could. Mind, body and soul.

He didn’t know if he would have her again, so he would prolong it the best he could.

“Say it, Katerina,” he quipped blowing on her ear, the blood dripping from his fangs on her glistening bare back.

Her mouth formed an arch in bliss with his never stopping but oh so slow moves.

“You have me like nobody else does,” she whispered in surrender, feminine hands back at the headboard, while his traveled back down from her neck to her waist.

“Now, I shall the devil to heaven,”

She laughed while he sank himself deep and hard into her wet inviting hole.

Their juices mixing as they both watched the lights dancing in front of their eyes.

Katherine came first in a trembling cry, her curly head hanging low as she felt Elijah cock explode inside of her.

You're giving me chills at a hundred degrees

Her body felt like the sun kissed it as they both laid spent between the blood smeared sheets.

Elijah had the sweetest of smiles, as if he hasn’t been the most pervert beast only a couple minutes prior.

Her hair was plastered on her sweated forehead and the man beside her moved his thumb to take it away from her face.

Katherine offered him a sated smile and wrapped her leg around him.

“What would you say about becoming my sex slave?”

Elijah laughed with that and leaned to bless her lips with his in a brief kiss.

“I would say you need to test drive the vassal again,” his voice sensual as they locked eyes and a smile appeared in her own face.

“Just to be sure I made a good deal?”

He nodded in agreement his hand traveling the side of her body, his fingers featherlight on the side of her breasts as he thrusted his hip into hers.

Katherine’s hands went to his short hair.

“Just to be sure,” he finally said sinking his head down for another kiss.

56 notes · View notes

votederpycausemufins · 4 years ago

Text

Guys, idk how to tell you this, but we’re nearing the end. I mean, i’m gonna write more smaller pieces and maybe another long one in the future, but this one specifically is ending soon

@petrichormeraki

Mumbo walked down a hallway behind Drista. It looked like something Scar would have made as it looked more like a decorated underground tunnel than anything else. Stones of different types lined the walls and some vines and grass were present here and there. He kept trying to ask questions to pass the time, but Drista always shushed him.

Since he couldn’t really have a discussion with her, he just looked at the walls around then that looked worn by time. Some ores were present in the walls, though they weren’t any Mumbo recognized. When he looked away from them, the redstoner could see what looked like the tunnel widening up ahead, likely to a room or sorts, though based on their surroundings, it could be more along the lines of a cavern.

He was right as when they stepped out of the tunnel, the ceiling was still made of rocks, but the room itself was filled with life. Trees of varieties he had never seen before littered the area. Leaves of blue purple and gold were scattered around and hanging on the trees. Flowers of every color. A small pond to the side, small lily pads covering a good portion of the surface. It was beautiful.

“Alright, a couple of the fam are headed over here to talk with you. Don’t go wandering around because this place is like a labyrinth and you don’t have the ability to get out yet.”

“You sound like you’re going to leave me here.”

“Cuz I am.” And with that Drista ran off down another tunnel that connected into the room. With nothing to do but wait, Mumbo wandered around the cavern, trying to not stray too far from where they had entered. He really decided to stay close when he saw what he thought was an armor stand wearing armor, slumped against a wall. When he got closer and noticed the skeleton within that was obviously not a reanimated monster, he made sure to run back and stay in place.

After he started to become a bit restless again, Mumbo was slightly glad to see people approaching him. All of them wore some sort of mask, which unsettled the redstoner a little bit, but he remembered how Drista and Dream had worn some of their own, so it must have been a Vault God thing. Come to think of it, Grian also showed off a Watcher mask once. Did these higher beings just wear masks?

“We do indeed. It hides the self and keeps us separated from those we… work with.” A chill went up Mumbo as he realized that they had just read his mind. “Yes, another reason for the mask, though that enchantment could be placed on anything.”

“Should I just ask questions in my mind then?” Mumbo asked, now trying to keep his mind empty.

“Nah, just Song being cryptic and stuff.” A new voice spoke from the Vault Gods and one wearing a mask that resembled a turtle slapped the back on the head of one wearing a mask decorated in music notes. “We can control it easy enough, some people just get used to various powers and tend to overuse them.”

Mumbo sighed in relief at the casual tone from turtle mask. He had no clue what to expect from whoever he would meet and assumed they would be very strict and cold people. “I see. Well, speaking of powers…” He trailed off, not sure how exactly to ask.

“Drista’s kept me updated.” Another new voice spoke. They gave a small wave when Mumbo tried to figure out who was speaking. He had to shift a little to see them properly, but taking a step to the side, the redstoner would see their mask which seemed to be a generic green alien. “You don’t want to be a Vault God, but you used your powers out of necessity.”

“I shouldn’t have any to begin with!” Mumbo argued. “I said no the last time Drista showed up and they went away. It wasn’t until I found Dream that anything happened again.”

It was quiet after he shouted, long enough that Mumbo was beginning to worry he shouldn’t have said anything.

“That does change things.” Someone in an earth mask stepped forward. “Due to Dreamon’s work with the abandoned Watcher he obtained.”

“His name is Grian.”

“Yes, that one. He was able to shield his world from the sight and hearing of both us and the Watchers. His abundance of power is likely what pulled yours out again, not true willingness.”

“Are you saying you can do something about it? I don’t want to be one of you. Grian’s a Watcher and he’s told me many times that your magics don’t mix. I lo- We’re… really close to each other. I don’t know what I would do if us being around each other caused problems.”

Again, there was silence from the Vault Gods. This time Mumbo wondered if, being able to read minds, they were communicating telepathically. “I suppose there is something that could be done.” One of them finally spoke up and Mumbo sighed in relief. “Masks are usually used as a limiter, that is due to enchantments, but others could be placed on it so it has the opposite effect.”

“That being?” Mumbo asked.

“It can be so that only when used will you be able to access your self as a Vault God. That being said, to do that, more than just powers would need to be sealed within the mask.”

“I would be able to stay around Grian though?” Mumbo asked, not caring about any side effects if it would get him what he was after.

One in a mask that seemed to house an entire galaxy spoke up next. “Yep, pretty much any Watcher if you really wanted to. I mean, doubt you’ll be around many, but hey, if you help out when we have to deal with… or I guess work with other Watchers, it would help.”

“Then I’ll do it.”

“Ey Big Geeeeee!” Tommy burst into the room, followed by Grumbot who had led him there. “Tubbo went with Sparklez to go see some of his family. Meaning time for you and I to get back into things. What are you thinking? New normal war to teach people things? Invitations to the upside down? Take people on base tours and blow their minds? Or maybe we go with the tried and true chicken bombings?”

Grian just rolled over in bed. “Noooo. I wanna go but everything’s catching up to meeee. I’m a messssss.”

“Dad is feeling sick from bad magic that was left over in your world.”

Tommy sat down and slumped. “Great, another thing Dream messed up. Can’t you just do some shit to get rid of it and be better already? The longer we wait, the less fun it might be.”

Grian gave a small hum as a signal that he heard Tommy. “Yeah. Left it on a table. Mask I was wearing when you stabbed me.” He pointed in a general direction and Tommy left to grab it. While he waited, Grian curled up more, wrapping his wings around himself. He was glad that the feathers helped muffle the sound around him which was starting to give him a headache. Stupid living base that you could hear everywhere.

When Tommy returned, he tugged gently on one of Grian’s wings. Because of the avian’s current state, he panicked and hit Tommy away with the wing. The blond was pushed back, glad his armor negated whatever damage that would have caused. “Sorry for startling you. I found it.”

Grian took the white mask from Tommy and put it on, glad that it started to block out whatever was making him feel sick. “Oh, that’s much better. So, what were your ideas again?”

Grian, Tommy and the bots were enjoying themselves as they returned to Mumbo’s base. Jrumbot was admiring the diamonds he had scammed someone out of while Grumbot put away the last of the discs he had been playing around, making sure he couldn’t be seen while they played, confusing whoever heard them. Tommy had emptied a shulker box of eggs onto the smp island and Grian had placed signs all over the place with cryptic messages.

“Oh man. We need to get Mumbo and get him to drag some people into Hermit Challenges.” Grian said through his laughter.

“I dunno. Me and him aren’t really on the best terms right now.”

“I know, but that’s exactly why you should do it. It’ll give you the chance to clear the air and ask why he was so upset.”

“Daddy yelled at us too.” Jrumbot looked up briefly from his diamonds. “Auntie Stress took us to see him but he got upset and wanted us to leave.”

“I wasn’t able to get a good look, but he had seemed scared. People tend to have different reactions when they are scared. Some get angry, others panic, even more just hide it.”

Grian picked Grumbot up in one arm and nuzzled him. “And we’ve all been through a lot so we know that. Mumbo hasn’t been through nearly as much. It would be better if it never happened, but the fact that it took so long is a good sign.”

“I guess.” Tommy responded, but he still seemed upset.

Just before they reached Mumbo’s base again, there was a burst of energy that came from it and Grian narrowed his eyes behind his mask. “They were told to stay in your world.” Then before Tommy could ask what Grian meant, the Watcher set the bots down and shot up into the sky so fast he left some feathers behind.

He scanned the base until he spotted a figure and dove towards it, landing nearby. “You shouldn’t be here. This is Watcher claimed. Get out before I make you!” He almost growled at them. He was prepared to shove them through a rift to send them to smp island and then throw them through the portal when the figure turned.

They wore a familiar suit, except for the fact that it was stained a bright red color. They wore a metal mask with piercing red eyes, and most importantly, a mustache. “Grian.”

Grian’s eyes widened. “M-Mumbo…” The Watcher felt himself start to cry. This couldn’t be happening. Mumbo had said no. Why would he change his mind? And he had protected Mumbo so this could never happen? So why had it? “Mumbo… please… why? Why would you-”

He didn’t get to continue as Mumbo pulled the mask off his face and discarded it by letting it drop to the ground. He followed it, collapsing to the floor and Grian rushed to him. Before he could do anything though, he noticed the lack of any foreign energy in the air. “Oh Mumbo… I’m sorry I thought you said yes.”

#hermit!tommy au #hermit!tommy #tommyinnit #grian #grian xelqua #watcher!grian #avian!grian #mumbo jumbo #vault god!mumbo #grumbot #jrumbot #grumbo #drista #vault gods (vault hunters)

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thelittlesttimelord · 4 years ago

Text

The Littlest Timelord: The New Doctor Chapter 14

TITLE: The Littlest Timelord: The New Doctor Chapter 14 PAIRING: No Pairing RATING: T CHAPTER: 14/? SUMMARY: With the Doctor newly regenerated, he and Elise must now navigate their new relationship. The Doctor is an old man and Elise is a headstrong young woman. She is no longer the scared little girl the Doctor saved all those years ago. Will Clara be able to keep them from killing each other?

Clara was clearly getting ready for another date when Elise and the Doctor arrived.

The Doctor was watching her laundry spinning in the washing machine while Clara checked her makeup.

“The Satanic Nebula,” the Doctor suggested. He stared at her goldfish. “Or the lagoon of lost stars. Or we could go to Brighton. I've got a whole day worked out.”

“Sorry, but as you can see, I've got plans.” Clara gestured to her outfit.

“Have you?”

“Look at me.”

“Yeah, okay.”

“No, no, no. No. Look at me.” Clara flipped her hair.

“Yep, looking.”

“Seriously?”

“I think you look beautiful,” Elise told Clara.

“Thank you, Ellie.”

“Why is your face all colored in? Are you taller?” the Doctor asked.

Clara raised her foot. “Heels.”

“What, do you have to reach a high shelf?”

“Right, got to go. Going to be late.”

“For a shelf?”

“Bye.” Just as Clara was about to leave, the phone in the TARDIS started ringing. “There you go, you've got another playmate.”

“Hardly anyone in the universe has that number.”

“Well, I've got it.”

“Yes, from some woman in a shop. We still don't know who that was.”

“Is that her now?”

“There are very few people that it could be.”

“Maybe it’s Kate,” Elise suggested. It’d been a while since they’d seen the head of UNIT.

The Doctor reached out to answer it.

“Don't,” Clara said.

“Why not?” the Doctor asked.

“Because, if you answer it, something will happen.”

“What?”

“A thing”

“Huh. It's just a phone, Clara. Nothing happens when you answer the phone.” He picked up the receiver.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

The next thing they knew they were sitting at table, each holding a memory worm.

Clara and Elise screamed.

“Doctor?” Clara asked.

“Don't touch it.”

“Where are we? How did we get here?”

A man and a woman sat across from them at the table.

The man had half his head shaved with computer chips attached. “Who are you? Sorry, what's going on? I don't understand.”

The woman was dark skinned. Her cheeks transformed into the worm’s horns before fading. “Ah! What is that thing?”

“It's a memory worm,” the Doctor told her.

“What happened to your face?” Clara asked.

“Deletes your memories.”

“Did you see her face?”

“How did I get here?” the woman asked.

“The same way we all did, but we've all forgotten,” the Doctor said.

“And who are you?”

A metal case sat in the middle of the table. It played a recording.

“I am the Doctor, a Time Lord from Gallifrey. I have agreed to this memory wipe of my own free will.”

“I am Clara Oswald, human. I have agreed to this memory wipe of my own free will. Do I really have to touch that worm thing?”

“Yes, you do. And change your shoes. Elise, you’re next.”

Elise heard herself sigh. “Do I really have to do this?”

“Yes.”

“This is a bad idea. Fine. I am Elise Smith, daughter of the Doctor and River Song. I have agreed to this memory wipe of my own free will.”

“Okay, you're next, Psi.”

“I am Psi- augmented human. I have agreed to this memory wipe of my own free will.” Psi took a chip from his head and examined it.

“I am Saibra, mutant human. I have agreed to this memory wipe of my own free will.”

The case unlocked and a golden light shone from within. Two screens popped up. A golden K in a circle was shown on the screen before a hooded figure appeared.

“This is a recorded message. I am the Architect. Your last memory is of receiving a contact from an unknown agency. Me. Everything since has been erased from your minds. Now, pay close attention to this briefing.”

A planet appeared and zoomed in to show a bank. An advertisement started to play as the Architect spoke.

“This is the Bank of Karabraxos, the most secure bank in the galaxy. A fortress for the super-rich. If you can afford your own star system, this is where you keep it. No one sets foot on the planet without protocols. All movement is monitored, all air consumption regulated. DNA is authenticated at every stage. Intruders will be incinerated. Each vault, buried deep in the earth, is accessed by a drop-slot at the planet's surface. It's atomically sealed, an unbreakable lock. The atoms have all been scrambled. Your presence on this planet is unauthorized. A team will have been dispatched to terminate you.”

Someone banged on the door. “This is bank security. Open up.”

The video kept playing. “Your survival depends on following my instructions.”

“Open up and you shall be humanely disposed of.”

“There's another exit,” Saibra said.

“All the information you need is in this case,” the video said.

Psi took a chip from his head and plugged it into the case.

“What are you doing?” the Doctor asked.

“Downloading,” Psi told him.

“Ah. Augmented. Nice.”

“The Bank of Karabraxos is impregnable,” the video said.

The Doctor took a device from the case.

“Please stand away from the door. We do not wish to hurt you before incineration,” the guard ordered.

Elise rolled her eyes. How considerate.

“The Bank of Karabraxos has never been breached. You will rob the Bank of Karabraxos.”

Soon, the five of them were running down a corridor.

“Okay, okay, okay. Stop, stop, stop. Far enough,” the Doctor said, panting.

Can’t handle all the running, old man? Elise asked. She received an eyeroll in response.

“Augmented human. Computer augmented, yes? Mainframe in your head?”

“I'm a gamer. Sorry, who put you in charge?” Psi asked.

“You're a liar. That's a prison code on your neck.”

“I'm a hacker slash bank robber.”

“Good. This is a good day to be a bank robber. Mutant human. What kind of mutant?”

“Like he says, why are you in charge now?” Saibra asked.

“It's my special power. What's yours?”

Saibra sighed and took Clara’s hand. They watched as she transformed into Clara. When she let go, she was herself once again. “I touch living cells, I can replicate the owner.”

“Your face, when we first saw you...”

“I touched the worm.”

“You can replicate their clothes too?”

“I wear a hologram shell.”

“Like Christmas,” Elise said, even though only the Doctor and Clara knew what she was referencing.

The Doctor pulled out the object he took from the case. “Human cells. DNA from a customer, maybe? A disguise to get us in?”

“We're actually going to do it? Rob the bank?”

“I don't think we have a choice. We've already agreed to.”

Saibra sighed and touched her thumb to the object.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Elise had to admit that the bank was beautiful.

“How long can you maintain the image for?” the Doctor asked Saibra.

“For as long as I like.”

They entered the bank.

“Question one. Robbing banks is easy if you've got a TARDIS. So why am I not using it?” the Doctor asked.

“Question two, where is the TARDIS?” Clara countered.

“Okay, that probably should be question one.”

“Hopefully it’s not having a temper tantrum this time,” Elise said.

The Doctor turned to her. “At least we’re not stuck on a pirate ship with a murderous mermaid.”

An alarm started going off and security grills came down around all the exits. “Banking floor locking down.”

“They know we're here,” Saibra said.

“Banking floor locking down.”

A woman entered with two men dressed in suits. They walked up to a man with a briefcase.

A monster wearing an orange jumpsuit and a straight jacket entered. It had two eyestalks and was led by two armed guards.

Elise, instead of being scared, just felt sorry for the poor creature.

“What is that?” Saibra asked.

“I don't know. Hate not knowing,” the Doctor said.

“Excuse me, sir. I regret to say that your guilt has been detected,” the woman said.

“What? That, that's totally ridiculous,” the man said.

“Is it, sir? Well then, we will certainly double-check. The Teller will now scan your thoughts for any criminal intent. Good luck, sir.”

The man put down his briefcase.

“Interesting,” the Doctor said.

“What is?” Psi asked.

“The latest thing in sniffer dogs. Telepathic. It hunts guilt.”

The creature emitted a high-pitched noise that caused the man to grab his head in pain.

“What about our guilt?” Clara asked.

“Currently being drowned out,” the Doctor told her.

“What's he doing?”

“If he has a plan, he's trying not to think of it.”

“Ever tried not thinking about something?” Psi asked.

“No,” Clara said.

“You may have to,” Saibra said.

The creature roared.

“Ah, criminal intent detected. How naughty. What was your plan? Counterfeit currency in your briefcase, perhaps?” the woman asked.

“No, not at all. For God's sake,” the man said.

“It doesn't really matter, we'll establish the details later. The Teller is never wrong when it comes to guilt. Your account will now be deleted, and obviously your mind. Suppertime.”

The armored guards held onto the creature’s chains as it moved closer to the customer. It’s eyestalks came together and a ray was focused on the man’s head.

“It's wiping his mind. Turning his brain into soup,” the Doctor explained.

Elise felt tears well up in her eyes.

“Your next of kin will be informed, and incarcerated, as further inducement to honest financial transactions,” the woman said.

The man started screaming.

“We've got to help him,” Clara said.

“He's gone already. It's over,” the Doctor told her.

“He's in agony, look at him.”

“Those aren't tears, Clara. That's soup.”

The creature pulled it’s eyestalks apart.

The man stopped screaming and one of the suited men caught him. The front of his head was caved in.

“Account closed. Take him away. He's ready for his close-up. Apologies for the disturbance. Everyone have a lovely day.”

Elise was right. This was a very bad idea.

#twelfth doctor #twelfth doctor imagine #twelfth doctor fanfiction #doctor who #doctor who fanfiction #doctor who imagine #clara oswald #clara oswald imagine #the littlest timelord #the littlest timelord: the new doctor #time heist

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