#PLEASE I need to see these two hunt down Imps together

[sol-insidious]

Din: “What’s for dinner, cyare?”

Luke: *snaps the waistband of his Gucci pants over his ass*

Luke: “Fascists.”

Din: *already loading his Amban rifle* “Bet???”

[nctsworld]

just let me adore you

✩ jaehyun x reader (ft. mark) | fluff | campfire au | 2.3k → summary: in which the sparks between you and jaehyun burn brighter than the fire in front of you.  → warnings: fluff, flirting, swearing, kissing, wingman!mark whoo let’s get it → rating: teen+

→ gif created by me, please don’t repost or share without credit!

Laughter atop of wooden logs and wisps of smoke from the recently made fire fly towards the darkening sky on the beach. On the topic of fires, you and your friends are now reminiscing about when Haechan almost set his house on fire on more than one occasion. 

Your face is stuffed in Mark’s shoulder, unable to control your fit of laughter. As you pull away to breathe, you see a familiar group of men walking closer. Your eyes widen in reaction to one in particular.    

“You didn’t tell me Jaehyun was coming,” you spew behind the gritted teeth of your smile, leaning into Mark while having your gaze still locked on the group approaching. 

“Whoops?” Mark shrugs nonchalantly. You punch the imp smile off of your best friend’s face. He mumbles an ow and rubs the tender spot.

“Could’ve at least given me a heads up, you little shit.” 

“Maybe tonight you two will finally—hey, guys!” 

His words are cut off as the group finally arrives at their destination, greeting everyone perched on the logs. 

You may as well have flung yourself into the flames when Jaehyun flashes you a smile and maybe it’s all in your head, but you swear his eyes are fixated on only you.

Jaehyun and you were in an... odd spot. 

You may have gone to the same university, but the campus was huge, and you only ever really saw each other during large mutual gatherings, like tonight, so it was hard to get to know each other when you were often encircled with your particular clique. 

You two were mutuals on Facebook, but there wasn’t any concrete reason for you two to message each other out of the blue. However, you’d be lying if you said you never opened up the chat, stared at the blank conversation, and spent more time than you’d admit in thinking of a message to muster up. 

Yet, during only the handful of times you’ve been around Jaehyun, you liked being around him. He was sweet, like how he gave you pointers during the get-together at the bowling alley, and Mark has only said good things about him, giving him the seal of a best friend's approval.

Sure, it was a little awkward at times. Small talk was the norm, but neither of you could deny that there was something itching under the surface between you two. Maybe some nurture and care was all that was needed to break the chemistry free.

Or maybe all that was needed was tonight.

Because the logs near you are already occupied, Jaehyun and the latecomers sit across from you. Jaehyun’s in your direct line of sight with only the fire coming between the two of you.

The night falls as the blaze burns stronger and higher, becoming the only illuminating presence on the beach. Although conversations are all about, everyone’s attention is on it. Flames dance, entangling with each other in freedom. Orange and yellow hues reflect off of every face surrounding the warmth. It’s uncommon to see unconstrained flares like this often, so the rarity adds to the addictive pull of them. 

Everyone’s attention is on the fire, save for two people. 

You prefer listening to others speak and don’t really say much unless elicited, so you spend a lot of your time appreciating the beauty of the things surrounding you—at the rolling ocean waves, up at the stars, or across the wavy haze at the figure before you.

And when you aren’t looking at Jaehyun, you’re unaware of how he’s appreciating the beauty in front of him too. 

Back and forth, neither of you expect to lock eyes, but when it inevitably does, neither of you break away. On the contrary, Jaehyun offers a side smile, which showcases his dimple, and a modest wave. 

Returning his gesture with a giggle and a weak wave back, you then pretend to listen to neighbouring dialogue for a moment. 

Five seconds later, you can’t help it and steal a glimpse of him once more. 

You’re surprised to find him beaming back. 

Even though Mark’s preoccupied with telling the recent story of him winning another watermelon eating contest, he sees you smiling in his peripheral vision. His mouth still runs off, but he turns his head and sees that Jaehyun's the reason behind your smile. Although the eye flirting makes him mentally gag, he fully supports your pursuit if it makes you happy. 

Catching on, your best friend stands up to “stretch his legs” and moves closer to the ones he’s talking to, continuing the anecdote while standing. Not even a minute passes, and it doesn’t take much for Jaehyun to make a break for the empty spot next to you. 

Jaehyun doesn’t sit as close to you like Mark did, respecting your space, but is close enough to have you nervously plucking the fabric of your jeans. 

It starts off with the normal small talk, asking how classes have been and what you’ve been up to lately. Immediately after, silence takes over. 

Now that he’s in close proximity, looking at him feels like a sin. Nevertheless, you still commit the crime, stealing little glances at him throughout the bustling chatter and crisp crackling. 

Feeling overwhelmed by the silence, you grasp onto more small talk, which unfortunately soon reduces to you just rambling. Throughout it all, Jaehyun doesn’t say anything. All he does is nod and listens intently, leaning closer to you with his forearms on his thighs to capture everything that you’re saying. 

When you take a breather, he finally speaks up.  

“Although I love to hear you talk,” his voice is low and gentle, sending a small shiver down your spine. “And by all means, you can keep talking, but don’t feel pressured to fill the silence.” 

He pauses for a beat, and you peer over to view him lowering his head. 

He’s rubbing one thumb over his other, and the friction only makes his palms sweat more. Tingles reach Jaehyun’s ears, and he ponders if you notice it under the dim glow. 

“You don’t have to say anything at all; I always like just being around you, even if we aren’t talking.” 

The cool air blows, calming you along with his words. A shy grin spreads across your face. Feeling more at ease, you shift towards him, closing the empty space between you on the log and letting your leg lean onto his. Jaehyun’s focus trails from your leg to your face, and he dives deeper into your perfection with another of his famous, sweet dimpled smiles. 

Despite Jaehyun’s reassurance, you two slowly start to converse with less tension. Through the night, you get to know each other bit by bit, unravelling each other’s life stories, yet simultaneously writing a new chapter, intertwining the lines of your lives together.  

Additionally, you begin to melt for Jaehyun’s jokes. This is a first, to hear him joking around like this, but you soon find yourself laughing into his shoulder like you did with Mark not long ago.

And Jaehyun adores how you click with his humour, but he adores your laugh even more. 

Someone remembers that they brought snacks in their bag, and fast enough, marshmallows are being passed around. Jaehyun, along with a few others, hunt along the beach and come back with stray sticks for the sweet treats. 

As you two roast marshmallows, you’re sitting in comfortable silence, exchanging glances every so often. Suddenly, he lays a hand on yours, pulling it back along with the stick.  

“Careful,” he warns softly into your ear. “You don’t want a burnt marshmallow.”

Your breathing hitches, thinking about the only other time Jaehyun touched you.

It was during Johnny’s birthday dinner at a buffet restaurant. You were in the midst of devouring your food when your hair got in the way (out of all the days you forgot a hair tie, it had to be today). Failed attempts transpired at moving it; you blew, you shook your head, you rubbed the loose strands against your upper arm sleeve...

“May I?” 

His delicate inquiry made you freeze. Jaehyun already finished his food and offered his clean hands to fix your dilemma. You were so dedicated to finishing your meal that you forgot that he was right next to you, probably thinking you were a hot mess.  

Regardless, you nodded. You gulped as he daintily tucked the strands of your hair behind your ears. His touch was so brief, so simple. He barely ghosted over your skin, and the moment fleeted as fast as the way your hair ran through his fingertips. 

So if his touch was so simple, why was your heart bursting at the seams? 

Your heart thumps against your chest just the same now as it did then. Maybe even more, since you turn to face him and he’s so close, you feel his warm breath against your face. Your gaze slowly wanders to his lips. Subconsciously, he licks them, and you catch him staring at yours too. Your mind’s drawing blanks, while your body takes control. Both of you draw your bodies nearer and nearer until someone hollers—

“Dude, your marshmallow’s burnt!” 

Both of you stop in your tracks and whip your heads towards the fire, realizing it’s Jaehyun’s marshmallow that the person is referring to. Hastily, he pulls it away, blows the flames off, and stares at the charred piece with a pout. 

“Well, I guess you like burnt marshmallows though, huh?” 

Jaehyun turns to you again, watching you chew your marshmallow with a smug expression. Shaking his head, he runs his tongue along his bottom teeth.

“Hey, for the record, I saved your marshmallow from being burnt.” 

“Yeah, yeah. Sure, sure,” you hum, still chewing, then getting up. “I’ll go get us some more marshmallows. Maybe extra for you, in case you burn more.” 

He clutches his chest in jest at your quip and watches the way you saunter over to the bag, his eyes full of hearts, yet regret courses his veins over how the moment was ruined. 

It’s past 1 AM, and the combination of the summer air and ocean waves pack a bite that urges you to go home. You’re both standing near the fire, waving at others who are leaving, when you begin to say you your good-bye.

“I should also get going.” Your hands are in your pockets, feet kicking at the sand. 

“Is Mark your ride home?” You nod in reply and open your mouth, ready to tell him how nice the night went with him. 

“Can I…” he abruptly cuts in before inhaling sharply. “I was wondering if you’d let me drive you home?” 

Your jaw drops at the suggestion, causing his expression to change instantly. “Unless you’d prefer Mark to, I totally understand.” 

Obviously, you accept without hesitance, and run off to Mark to inform him of the change of plans. After hugging him and saying your good-byes, Mark whispers, “Don’t stay out too late.” Then, he gives you a wink before you run to your driver for the night, walking side by side with him back to his car. 

Because it’s late and you’re both a little tired, the ride home is quiet, albeit for Jaehyun’s music playing in the background and when you begin to speak up to give directions on how to get to your place. Rolling up in front of your home, he turns the ignition off, but leaves the music still on. 

“I had a great time with you tonight,” he says with a hand still on the steering wheel. 

Tucking your hair behind your ear, you nod, “Me too.” 

Anticipation lingers in the air for a while prior to Jaehyun cutting it with a question you’ve been dying to hear. 

“Are you free next weekend?” 

You press your lips together, trying to hide a smile back. 

“Only if you are.” 

He laughs with a shake of his head, amused at your playfulness. He can definitely get used to this. 

“I’ll message you when I get home and we can work out the details soon.” 

“Sounds good,” you sway a bit in your seat whilst holding in your excitement. “Well, good night, Jaehyun.” 

Your fingers are on the door handle, but you aren’t quite curling them around it.

“Good night,” he says your name in a hush and you look back at him. The two of you match eye contact and get lost in the gleam of each other’s starry eyes. 

You’re unsure who made the first move, but it doesn’t matter because his kiss scorches you, melting you into putty. As you think you’re about to fall apart between blissful sighs, Jaehyun catches you with each caress, holding you together by your cheeks and the nape of your neck.    

Breaking away for air, you lay your forehead against his, panting, “Wow.” 

“Yeah,” he chuckles softly. “I’ve been waiting to do that since I burned my marshmallow.” 

No coherent thoughts are running through your mind, except your yearning for the man in front of you. All you want is him and his touch on your skin again, so you agree with his sentiment by diving in again without warning. 

It takes much strength for you to finally depart from each other’s embrace for the night, but when you do, Jaehyun plants a kiss on the back of your hand and wishes you sweet dreams. 

Exhausted and in disbelief over tonight’s events, you quickly change out of your clothes and tuck yourself into bed. Unfortunately, sleep is near impossible because your mind replays everything over and over.

Suddenly, your phone lights up, notifying you of a new message. 

Little did you know you’d stay up messaging the man on the other end until the sun rose. 

Next weekend really couldn’t come fast enough.

[mandoinevarro]

An Overdue Debt

Words: 4.3K

Rating: E

Warnings: Smut, fingering, mentions of violence, spoilers for The Mandalorian

a/n: rip IG-11 but im different

The Mandalorian had gotten used to finding you on his cot. On the nights he’d manage to make it back to the ship, after capturing quarry or escaping bounty hunters chasing the child; after making it out of every peril that crossed his path within an inch of his life day after exhausting day, he’d climb the ramp and find you on his cot.

Usually, by the time the hunter had shut the hull and carbon frozen his bounties, the baby would already be asleep, the ship orderly, and all controls double-checked and ready for takeoff. You were thorough. It seemed to him like you had a sixth sense. From the day he’d hired you, he’d seen you tinkle with every item in the sad collection of the Razor Crest’s old and overused equipment that would’ve fallen apart otherwise. You would oil his gear, check controls, and do any number of things to facilitate the smooth sailing of his ship.

He hadn’t heard the kid cry in weeks. Before the tiny infant could get a chance to work some tears out of his sooty eyes, you were already feeding him, burping him, or providing him with whatever it was that would sooth the surging tantrum immediately. It amazed him how you seemed to be able to fix just about everything you’d touch with those soft little hands of yours. The same hands that he would imagine fondly tracing every dip and scar on his chest and raising goosebumps on his skin, on the days when he’d feel particularly lonely.

Little by little, you’d repaired, oiled, and mended your way into the Mandalorian’s existence, making yourself a crucial part of his everyday life. It only took a couple of weeks for the bounty hunter to realize how essentially fucked he’d be if you ever decided to leave for a more promising and peaceful future than he could ever offer you. Sometimes, he’d study the patched up cables that stuck out of bullet holes on walls and the monitors that had stopped glitching so often ever since you’d focused your attention on them. He would envy the lifeless machinery then, for having the privilege of benefitting from your careful ministrations. The Mandalorian had wondered whether you’d also be willing to offer your healing touch to him, who—as far as you knew from the beskar that covered every inch of his human self and the modulated voice that filtered out all emotional depth—was half a machine himself.

Eventually, he had obtained his answer.

You’d responded to his mute question after he’d gone back for the kid in Nevarro. The bounty hunter had told you to wait for him on the ship, but hadn’t mentioned his intentions in the gray city. He’d only left you with the ominous instruction to take the Crest and never come back to the planet if he wasn’t back in an hour.

After three and a half hours of shooting his way out of the contained battle he’d unleashed near the gates of the city, he hadn’t expected to see the Razor Crest unmoving in the darkening horizon, right where he’d left it. He definitely hadn’t expected the rush of relief that made his spine dissolve when he found you still waiting for him once he’d climbed back through the hull—your eyes sunken in their sockets with concern and your lips chaffed from anxious biting—nor the way your gaze softened at the swampy child he knew you’d both learned to love.

You hadn’t asked any questions when you took the baby and carried him to the cockpit to cradle him in your arms. You hadn’t talked to him as, once in hyperspace, you and the Mandalorian had crafted a makeshift crib together for the sleeping kid from a rectangular metal container and some old rags. Adrenaline and urgency still beating like drums in his ears after such a close encounter with death, he hadn’t dared say a word either, out of fear of what he might reveal to you in his delirium.

But you’d known.

Somehow, among the aftershocks of fighting and below the cluster of stars and supernovas that shifted like snakes in hyperspace, you’d managed to see through the helmet and figure out exactly what he needed, like you’d done so many times with busted motors and faulty sensors. After finishing the crib, you’d taken its unconscious owner down to the hull. The Mandalorian had sentenced himself to his chair to try and still the punchy beating of his heart, that he knew had more to do at this point with the knowledge that you’d put your own life on the line to wait for him than with his altercations in Nevarro.  

But you’d come back.

You’d silently slithered your way back into the cockpit and stood right in front of him with trembling legs, looking for his eyes behind the visor. Wordlessly, you’d unbuckled your belt, slipped your pants down, and climbed onto his lap. His fingers had dug into the leather arms of the chair as you’d started moving on top of him in gentle circles. He remembered blushing at how fast you’d been able to get him hard and how all the blood had dropped from his face to his genitals when you’d lowered his zipper and freed his swollen cock. He remembered the persistent smell that had crawled underneath the helmet when you had shoved your underwear to the side and guided him inside your dripping folds.

Mando had fucked you then, with quick, hard thrusts and a vice grip on your ass that had most likely left bruises. He’d fucked you every single night that followed, as well. After freezing whatever bounty he would manage to catch and setting coordinates for the Crest’s next destination, he’d descend the ladder to find you. He never needed to tell you a thing, since you would just shove what little clothing was necessary as soon as you’d catch a glimpse of him and present your body to him, to do as he pleased. Night after night, you’d welcome him wet and willing, perched on whatever surface you two would see fit for your fucking. So, after trying the pilot’s chair, the floor, and several storage boxes, he’d gotten used to finding you on his cot.

Mando knew he was always rough with you. Whether he was coming back from a hunt or from a stakeout, it was always stress, anguish, and burning lust at the mere sight of you that guided his every movement, and they translated to a fistful of your hair or a sudden bump against your cervix. From the first time, he’d lost himself in the dizzying sensation of your slippery walls around him, clenching tighter with every thrust and squeezing every drop of sanity out of him. He’d become addicted to the clammy sound of your cum around his length as he took out all of his frustrations on the stretch of your pussy.

He would only ever take you from behind while you knelt in front of his bunk or against a wall, spilling his seed outside, every time. He’d never actually seen you naked. It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought about it—the curiosity of how gorgeous you probably looked like with no clothes on haunted his every waking thought—, but he knew it wasn’t part of the unspoken deal you two had struck. Out of pity, he assumed, you’d offered yourself to him as a stress reliever, and nothing more.

At first, though, Mando had been surprised at how often and loud you’d moan for him; later he’d figured it was just another way you’d though of to please him. The whimpers would float around the recycled air of his empty ship and bounce on his helmet, unable to pierce through the tough beskar. So he would take what he could get and tried his best to shut the desire for a more profound intimacy that he ached for. Until, one day, it could no longer be held back.

After his clash with Moff Guideon and the army of Imps, it took Mando a few hours to grasp that he had survived. Somehow, hugely outnumbered and wounded, the bounty hunter’s own small army had managed to defeat the enemy troops and get away with the child, not without two losses that still hung too somber on his guts for him to process properly. He sat on his chair with his son resting next to him for hours, watching space break down to pieces from the cockpit. He thought about IG-11, how he’d lifted his helmet and seen his most secret self through red sensors. Mando remembered how much he’d wished for you at that moment, wanting nothing more but to replace the droid’s neutral features with your own lovely ones. He’d known his son was safe and had made peace with his impending death, but he hadn’t been able to shake a feeling of unfulfillment for knowing that he’d never gotten to truly see you or feel you.

But he had survived.

So Mando sat in the cockpit until he lost track of time, almost hoping that—as always—you’d simply guess what he yearned for and provide it for him.  But, eventually, when you didn’t magically appear in front of him like the first time, he knew it was his turn. Nervousness stifling his movements, he climbed clumsily down, stopping every once in a while to reconsider. What if he offended you? He’d never forgive himself if his stupid requests drew you away once and for all. But temptation was gripping his heart hard, and he knew that he’d never know peace again if he didn’t at least try to get this one favor from you.

When he jumped down the last steps of the ladder, he didn’t find you in his cot. You stood in front of him, as if you’d been waiting. You didn’t push your pants down or move to kneel at the entrance of his bunk like you always did. You simply looked into his visor with a hesitant expression, waiting for him to make a move, for a change.

His voice was tight and unsteady when he finally said, “I want… Can—can I touch you?” He cleared his throat and couldn’t help the telling dip of his helmet as he absorbed your figure in front of him. “I mean really touch you. And…and see you. Please.”

Your shoulders slacked and you moved your head to the side in confusion, like you had been expecting literally anything else. And then, once you saw the way his helmet hung defeated and his hands were clasped in front of him, almost as if he were apologizing for asking, your face went back to its natural comprehensive expression. Except something else was growing in your eyes that made your pupils expand and darken.

“Yes,” you breathed out, with a begging tone that mimicked Mando’s own.

Mando’s lungs collapsed at your permission; he hadn’t even noticed he’d been holding his breath. He looked around, trying to figure out a way to quickly engineer a surface comfortable enough for you, but you simply sat cross-legged on the floor looking up at him with inviting eyes that got his heart pounding a little faster. So he knelt down in front of you and unclasped his cloak to lay it in next to your legs. It wasn’t ideal nor how he’d imagined it—nothing about this situation was—but he was determined to make you feel as comfortable as he possibly could.

You clutched his pauldrons as leverage and shuffled on your knees to rest them on the worn fabric. You reached down with one hand to remove your shoes and socks, before trailing it upwards to your belly and grabbing the hem of your tunic. Mando quickly caught your wrist.

“Wait,” he asked, “let me.”

You simply bit your lower lip and nodded, and Mando liked the way your cheeks turned pink when his gloves grabbed the bottom of your shirt and pulled it up. Every new inch of your skin made it harder for him to keep his hands on the cloth instead of the soft flesh that he was seeing for the first time. When he got your tunic far up enough that it went past your breasts, he had to force himself to keep going, instead of immediately rolling the tips in his fingers. His already half-hard cock twitched at the thought.

By the time your head poked out of the tunic’s hole and he discarded it, his body was burning inside the armor. He trailed his gaze across every crevice of your upper body, stopping at some softer-looking spots he quickly decided were his favorite. You apparently noticed, because the blush on your face was darker than before and it spread to your chest. Mando found your pigmented skin endearing. Maker, after weeks of burying himself inside your most private places, how was it possible that this was the most intimate moment you two had ever shared? And why was he so much more fucking nervous right there than any of the other nights?

He reached his hands out slowly to unbuckle your belt, but looked up at you for permission first. Still biting your lip, you managed a small smile, but your teeth were digging deeper with anticipation that made the gentle expression falter. So he removed your belt and pushed down your pants, taking your underwear with them. You shuffled awkwardly on your knees to slide your them off your legs and would’ve toppled over if he hadn’t grabbed your arms and held you steady. You laughed nervously at your clumsiness and grabbed his arm for balance, as your other hand stretched behind you to pull the trousers off completely and throw them to the side.

The hand on his arm let go and your back straightened again. And there you were, bare in front of him as he’d asked, your skin covered in goosebumps from the cold air of the ship. Like staring into a mirage, he instinctively grabbed your wrist to make sure you wouldn’t evaporate in front of him. Stars, for all the hours he’d spent mentally sketching a picture of your nude body, he could never have expected this. Mando’s eyes traced the lines of your neck and dropped to a pair of smooth shoulders that he would’ve paid good money to lick. Your heaving chest caught his eye, and he went dizzy with the way your nipples hardened under the attention. He skimmed lower to your belly, and would’ve gladly stayed there if he hadn’t caught a glimpse of something glistening between your thighs. His breath audibly hitched at the modulator when he recognized the clear slick of your arousal.  

Once you understood what the visor was directed at, your shoulders hunched and you shuffled uncomfortably in your place. The movement snapped him out of his trance.

It was Din Djarin who stared straight into your eyes when he finally said with a disbelieving, low voice, “I’m sorry, it’s just…You’re so beautiful.”

You smiled fully for him then, your lips plump with arousal and your body arching towards him more confidently to try to coax him to reach out.

“Please,” you pleaded in a raspy tone he’d never heard before, “touch me like you wanted.”

That was all Din needed. His hands approached your body, before he reconsidered and took the gloves off first. Fuck, where to begin? He wanted to feel everything at once, brush his fingertips down your neck and grab your thighs hard and press a hand into your belly. He wanted to grasp your round tits and trace a finger down your spine to make you shiver. Most of all, he wanted to sink his digits into your wet heat and feel you squirm over them.

He settled his hands on your shoulders instead, like you’d done moments ago. The bare-skinned contact made you both tense, until he started caressing up and down your arms to try to relax you. You let out a shaky breath as his calloused hands tickled your skin with a feather light touch.

“It’s smooth,” he mumbled, “your skin. I—I didn’t know.” The helmet was trained on your chest, though, and his hands followed, two large palms settling just above your breasts. Din felt your heart beating faster and faster against his palm to the beat of his own unstable huffs that he knew you could hear. He glided his hands lower, grasping your tits with a strength that painted a stark contrast to his previous, careful fondles. The sensation worked a gasp out of you that pierced beskar and cloth and went straight to his cock. Encouraged, he kneaded the fat and pinched your pebbly peaks, earning him another, louder whimper.

Fuck, why did it feel that good? Din could already feel his array of problems slipping further and further away at the sensation of your hot skin against his, not to mention the sight of your mouth gaping and your half-hooded eyes. A scent he already knew well crept into his nostrils and settled on his lower half, reminding him of the growing lubrication between your legs.

He traded your breasts for the curve of your ass and, when he squeezed, he pulled you closer to him, your chest hitting the cool surface of his armor. You yelped at the cold contact, but the surprise turned into pleasure when he started grabbing handfuls of you to press your body tighter against his. His fingers slipped down to the backs of your thighs and sunk on the pillowy flesh between them, making you buckle forward as a reflex and wrap your arms around his neck. The flesh underneath his palm was soaked and boiling, but it wasn’t until he parted your thighs and shoved his metal cuisse between them that he thought you were working up a fever.

Before he could give you any instruction, you buried your head in the crook of his neck and started rubbing your core on his cuisse. It was an awkward angle that only offered so much friction, but the way you moaned for him sounded like it the sensation was melting you. Every desperate little noise was absorbed by his pores and climbed to his head, making him drunk with the knowledge that he could do this to you.

He needed more.

“Lay back.” He placed his hands on your hips to stop your grinding. You threw your head back to look into the dark visor, flushed and confused.

“But—” you started, before Din placed a hand on the small of your back and pushed you with his other one onto the worn cloak. You relented and laid on the floor panting, watching him through long lashes and pressing your legs tightly. Towering over you on his knees, Din grabbed the tops of each thigh and massaged them carefully, both to coax them open and to continue reveling on how your body pulsed alive under his touch. You were writhing and moaning under him, too busy rubbing your legs together to ease some of the throbbing between them to understand what he wanted from you. As much as he enjoyed watching you completely exposed, desperately trying to pleasure yourself, he needed to see. He needed you open to finally take a look at the heat where he’d been losing himself for weeks.

Din pinned down your ankles to the floor and looked straight to your face.

“Please, just—just let me see.” He slowly slid your feet towards you, making your knees flex and your legs bend. Back to reality, you swallowed hard and nodded, propping yourself on your elbows to see exactly what he’d do.

Din pushed your ankles to the sides, revealing little by little a blushed, pulsating cunt. He only stopped once your legs couldn’t open any wider. Your outer lips were plump and swollen, while your inner folds glistened wet and pink under the artificial light of the ship. Your clit was sticking out completely, imploring to be touched. Din felt something stab his chest. He held his breath and felt his member grow fully erect at the erotic sight.

“Fuck,” he hissed through his teeth, “f-fuck, is this what I’ve been missing?” He placed his palms on your inner thighs, where he could feel the warmth radiating from your cunt. “Huh?”

You furrowed your eyebrows and opened your legs a little wider. “You never touched me,” you whispered, “I thought you didn’t want to.”

“Maker.” Din’s gaze was trained on your pussy, unblinking. “It’s the only thing I’ve wanted.” When glossy arousal oozed out of you at his admission and pooled on his cloak, Din felt his mouth salivate. He ran his tongue over his lips.

“Then do it.” You sounded desperate now.

Din watched you intently—searching for a reaction—when the index and middle finger of his right hand made a V shape  over your outer lips, before pressing hard against them. It was difficult for him to decide whether to focus on how your head dropped on the ground and your breath hitched, or how your inner lips spilled outside around his digits and your lower muscles hardened under his touch. The pressure made more of your arousal seep and coat his fingers, as he worked them back and forth over the outside of your core. He knew he was leaking precum but couldn’t bring himself to remove his right hand from your cunt nor his left from your thigh, so he simply pressed his legs together, hoping the sight of you wouldn’t be enough to make him cum.

You were pushing against his fingers, silently asking for more, and Din was happy to comply. He removed his middle finger as his index brushed your soaked slit from the bottom to the top, stopping right below your clit. Exasperated, you slapped your palms over your eyes.

“Mando, please,” you whined, “do something. You can’t just—” Your own moan cut you off when he brought down his left hand to pull your inner lips open and gather some more moisture. Fuck, he had a clear view inside you. He could see your innermost walls drowning in their own juices turn a dark pink, almost purple. He used both hands to open you further. Deep inside you, your tight hole clenched around nothing, spitting out more and more fluids.

Stars, Din didn’t know anyone could get this wet, not even when he used to mindlessly fuck you. His hands were drenched already, but, greedily, he still gathered more slickness and rubbed it on his finger, across his knuckles. He wanted it everywhere. He scooped more and smeared it all over your folds and inner thighs, still avoiding your bundle of nerves. Fascinated by your body and trying to ignore how his cock strained against his pants, he lifted his hands to coat your tits with your own cum.

You were almost crying beneath him, but you seized your opportunity when you felt his wet hands against your chest. Suddenly, you grabbed his wrist and yanked it down, pressing the heel of his hand against your neglected clit. Your eyes closed as a broken sob of relief escaped your throat. You moved your hips against it, using his body for your pleasure as he’d done so many times with yours. Din was delighted.

“Been so good to me for so long,” he muttered, as his other hand creeped stealthily back towards your slit. “I want to pay you back.” The primal sound that left you when he sunk two fingers inside your snug hole made his cock jump and get itself a little wetter than before. He willed himself to ignore it and focus his attention on the long fingers inside you. He pushed them as far as they’d go and them some more, while you were still grinding against his palm.

Din was sure he was going to black out from lust when you started moving faster and his fingers curled into something that made your eyes roll to the back of your skull. You were breathing quickly, high little mewls leaving your lips as you clenched tighter and tighter around him. His torso leaned down to see how he was stretching you open.

“B-but I liked it,” you blurted all of a sudden, catching your companion by surprise, “I like it when you f-fuck me—” you groaned when he couldn’t help himself and added another finger, “—when you fuck me angry. When you—when you take it out on me.”

Din didn’t answer. He couldn’t when your words sank deep into his stomach and braided his insides. He only moved his fingers faster and deeper, letting your walls distract him—once again—from the difficulties of his turbulent life, as you pulled tighter around him.

Tighter—tighter—tighter—and—

Din was sure it was your own orgasm transferring over to him when you came undone with a loud cry. He didn’t stop moving his hands into you as spasms took over your body, but he felt his own organs contract and release waves of pleasure into every corner of his ragged body. It was only after you stopped shaking and he took his creamy hands away from you that he noticed a dark, moist patch on the crotch of his pants. You noticed it too, and managed a brief, breathy laugh before falling back on the floor, pulling the cloak to cover you and closing your eyes.

Din slapped your leg gently to stop you from falling asleep before standing up.

“We’re not done yet,” he told you plainly, as you stared at him with confused, tired eyes. “I haven’t tasted you.”

He clicked a few buttons on his arm, and the hull became pitch black.

–––––

Edit: Part II here

@artaxerxesthegreat​

[tilltheendwilliwrite]

Star-Crossed: Bound by Blood

Chapter Four

Master List / Read on AO3

Previous Chapter

Warnings: Canon divergent during Chapter 13 of The Mandalorian, serious pining, much angst, violence

A/N: I make this stuff up as I go along, if I screw something Star Wars-y up, apologies in advance, I didn’t do it on purpose, but I’m new to this Fandom. I will be cross posting this story between AO3 and Tumblr except the smutty bits. Those chapters will only be available to registered users on AO3. (I’m trying something new for people who want to read here on Tumblr, but to also avoid the smut for minors controversy. We’ll see how it goes.)

*I do not have a tag list* Please follow the story on AO3 if you want email updates, or follow @tilltheendwilliwrite-library where I post the new/latest chapters of all my stories.

***

Baast, back in her own clothes and covered in a cloak, hood pulled forward to hide her face, followed Din and Grogu through the bustling streets. It had been a long time since she'd been in the company of so many. 

It was overstimulating. There were too many voices, too many scents, too many emotions bombarding her at once. She increased her pace, walking practically on Din's heels as she reached out and laid her fingertips against the beskar. 

Blessed silence. Yes, she still heard the noise with her ears, but it no longer vibrated within her skull. Too long had she isolated herself to be this out of practice blocking out the world around her.

"Baast?"

She flinched and removed her hand. "Apologies. It is… loud. I have not been around this many people for some years."

He studied her for a moment before stepping closer. "The beskar blocks your abilities, doesn't it?"

She tilted her head. "To some extent, yes."

He handed her Grogu, then took her right hand and tucked her fingers at his elbow, allowing them to graze the silver of his vambrace. 

The position of honour caused her mouth to gape. "Mando?"

"When I show up with you, it is highly probable Karga will make assumptions. Do not be alarmed if I don't dispute them."

"Ah," Baast nodded and accepted her place in their deception. 

He led her through the market, Grogu babbling happily. Now that she wasn't fighting to shield her mind, she could focus on the people around them and the merchandise.

Spices, silks, pots, pans, and machine parts all crowded together, spilling from one booth to the next. The people called, cried, and bellowed in so many languages it was deafening for an all-new reason. 

Baast had never allowed herself to enjoy such things before. Always she had remained vigilant, one step ahead of those hunting her, but she knew nothing would come that Din would not first see. 

He was a great hunter. Grogu and his snippets of memory assured her of it.

Eventually, they left the market to walk dusty streets, heading into a more respectable, business-centric area of the city, finally arriving at a neatly whitewashed building with a plaque that read Magistrate above the door.

Baast hesitated.

"He's a friend."

She glanced up at Din and felt the small wave urging her to trust him bump against her. She did trust this Mandalorian. He would not put her in danger and motioned for him to continue.

The inside was as welcoming as the outside, with soft cream walls and individuals wearing brightly coloured clothing.

The female at the desk looked up, took them in, and pressed a button at her station. "The Mandalorian is here, Magistrate Kraga."

"Well, send him back!" bellowed from down the hallway.

The female rolled her eyes and waved them on. 

Baast felt more than heard Din's amusement. "Who is he to you?" she whispered.

"He was Leader of the Bounty Hunters Guild. Now he's still that, but also Magistrate of Nevarro."

They were met in the doorway by a man of later years, the grey of his beard giving him a distinguished air that went well with his yellow and gold robes.

Someone more naive than Baast might have said he looked jolly, but she knew better. He was happy to see Din, certainly, but there was a sharpness to his smile and cunning to his eyes that bespoke a shrewd businessman lurked beneath the finery. 

"Come in, Mando! You've had some success; I take it?" he asked.

Din tilted his head and motioned for the man to proceed them back into the room.

The Magistrate turned his cunning eyes her way, and Baast was suddenly very grateful for the heavy cloak.

"And you've brought a guest?"

"Greef Karga, Baast'mal," Din said, his voice without inflection.

"Charmed, I'm sure," the man said, attempting to peer past her hood. 

Baast clutched Grogu to her and glanced up at Din. He made no move either way, just gave her the inscrutable visage of his visor.

"Pirusti met," she murmured.

Karga's brow whipped up like it was alive, surprise written on his face. "Speaks Mando'a, hmm? Did you take a riduur and not tell me, my friend?"

As he warned her, Din didn't dispute it, and Karga jumped to his own conclusions with a toothy smile. 

"Well, congratulations! A clan of three! Come, we will drink to your good fortune."

"You mean you will drink," Din chuckled and made his way across the room to a small couch where he motioned Baast to sit with Grogu as he approached the man's desk and pulled three pucks from his pocket. "You can celebrate for us later. We have somewhere else to be."

Karga stared at the pucks, eyebrow slowly winging upward. "Only three, Mando? I sent you out with four. Surely no one escapes the Great Mandalorian?"

"The last was dead on arrival. Body retrieval wasn't an option."

Baast fought not to shudder and looked down when Grogu tapped her chest. A wave of soothing calm went through her, and she forced herself to relax.

Karga peered at Din for a long time before his gaze shifted to Baast. "You know, the last time you refused to turn in a bounty - or rather when you liberated a bounty after turning them in - they wound up bound to you. If I were the suspicious sort, I would wonder at the sudden appearance of a riduur and lack of a fourth body."

Din didn't move, he said nothing, yet it was as if he grew bigger and sucked the air from the room. The swelling wave of menace left Baast breathless.

Then Karga grinned. "Good thing I'm not the suspicious sort."

The heavy feeling subsided, and Baast sucked in a full breath.

"Should they ask, you tell them she's dead."

Karga nodded. "I'll log the information myself." Then, he opened a drawer and reached inside before sliding an ingot of beskar across the table. "For your trouble."

Din visually stiffened, betraying his surprise. "Where did you get that?"

"Off the Imps after this last round of clean up."

"You have others?"

Karga shook his head before throwing a handful of credits down beside it. "That should make us even."

"It does. Get your cargo off my ship." Everything went in a pouch on Din's belt.

Karga pressed a button on his desk. "Tana'ya, send the boys."

The bodies encased in carbonite would soon be off the ship. While Baast didn't mind them, the bodies within were in stasis - dreamless and without emotion - their startled or angry faces were slightly disturbing. 

"Now, a question for your lady before you leave," Karga smiled, and Baast went still. The man was far too interested in her. "Is it true Mandalorian wives put off their armour when they decide to have little warriors?"

Baast snorted. "Di'kutla. Anade knows gar ke barjurir gar'ade, jagyc'ade kot'la a dalyc'ade kotla'shya."

Again Din stiffened, betraying himself in a way Baast was not used to. "She says, "Foolish. Everyone knows you train your sons to be strong, but your daughters to be stronger.'" Almost too low to hear, he murmured, "My woman is all warrior."

Pride filled her and straightened her spine before despair crashed down. She could not be his woman. She could not condemn him to half a life if their bonds failed.

Grogu's hands caressed her face, comfort offered in the gesture.

She bent and kissed his wrinkled green head. "Ni kar'tayl gai sa'ad," she whispered, claiming what might be her only opportunity to have a child by adopting this one. "I know your name as my child," she translated near his large ear when his gentle curiosity filled her, the two of them hidden beneath her hood.

He cooed and patted her face, encouraging her not to give up hope, but Baast had lost hope years ago with her first mutation. Hope was a hard thing to cling to when one's teeth fell out.

The distressed cry from Grogu - who had the misfortune of picking up on that particularly disturbing memory - had Din before them in an instant. He dropped to a knee to sit Baast back when she hadn't even realized she was slumping forward over her knees. 

He peered into the shadows of the deep hood. "Baast?"

"It is nothing," she whispered, fighting tears and a trembling lip.

"Mando?" Karga murmured, sounding genuinely concerned.

Din spoke over his shoulder. "Shut down your recording devices and give us a moment… please."

Karga appeared stunned by the please before pressing a button on his desk. He headed for the door but paused to open a small cabinet. "There is water here should she need it." 

The quiet click of the door closing announced his exit before Din was thrusting back her hood. "Baast, what is it?"

"Nothing," she whispered, closing her eyes, her heart tearing itself in two.

Soft and warm, his bare hands cradled her face and swept the tears spilling from her eyes away. "This isn't nothing. I want to help. Let me."

"You cannot help this," she insisted. "I am too broken."

"You're not broken. Baast, tell me what's wrong?"

Unable to hold out against his kindness, she wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to him with Grogu safe between them. "I realized I would never have warriors. I will never know the joy of growing a new life. The closest I will ever come to being a mother is with Grogu."

Though he held her gently, it was a little stiff. It made her think he hadn't hugged many people or any, but eventually, his arms tightened, and hands began to stroke tenderly along her spine. "You don't know that."

"If I cannot bond with my mate, I cannot breed," she whispered the horrible truth into his cowl.

His hands stilled. She could almost feel him processing that information. Then, ever so gently, he murmured, "Aliit ori'shya tal'din."

Family is more than blood.

She clung tighter and wept into the beskar of her star-crossed mate.

***

Din kept his hand on Baast's hooked at his elbow as they walked through the market on their way back to the ship. She was subdued, far too quiet after her revelation. When he took her down the aisle where they sold clothing, she picked what she needed and nothing more.

He added to the pile, haggled down the price and hauled the sack of new things over his shoulder before offering his arm. His whole body ached for her. He didn't know what to say, what to do, how to comfort her after this. 

It had reduced the once-proud set of her jaw to a resigned tuck as she walked silently beside him. She was despondent and not at all the proud, fierce Zentari he knew her to be. 

Maker ! He didn't know how to snap her out of this self-induced funk. 

When she yanked him, beskar and all, into a narrow alleyway between two booths, Din wondered if he would have to. "Baast?"

"Someone comes for you," she growled, removing her hand from his armour, likely to open herself to this person's mind. "They are intent on finding you."

He was already reaching for his blaster. "Do they mean us harm?"

"I cannot tell. I can just feel the urgency. They are after you. Come." Baast turned and sprinted down the alley.

Din went after her, amazed by her agility as she went up the corner of two buildings and over a roof as smoothly as she'd run down the street. He followed with only slightly less grace and paced her as they ran silently above the market.

She swung around a corner and came to a stop on the balcony of a two-story home before throwing back her hood. "They persist." She handed him Grogu before snaking the beskar spear from his back.

"Baast, let me-" 

She growled so fiercely Din took a step in retreat. "They come for you, not me. I will stop them. Go. Get Grogu to the ship."

"I'm not leaving you here!" he insisted.

Baast snarled and snapped her teeth together before shrugging her cloak to the ground and going up the wall. She was gone so fast, he barely had time to register her disappearance before a sharp cry and harsh grunt rang out a few buildings back. 

"Kriff!" he hissed, snatching up her cloak before running after her.

He leapt the space between buildings in time to watch Baast take Cara Dune's feet out from under her and put the ex-shock trooper on her ass. Then his spear was headed for Cara's chest.

"Baast, stop!"

She did, so sharply and with so much control she went from in motion to motionless in an instant. "You know this one?"

"She's a friend."

Baast stepped back, dropped the butt of the spear to the ground and scowled at him. "You have too many."

He threw her the cloak, she tossed him the spear, both catching their items in the same instant. It sent a funny flutter to his heart. 

As Baast shrugged back into her cloak, Din crossed to Cara and held down his hand. 

She glared up at him, sporting a black eye and bloody lip. "Maker, Mando. Where'd you find this one?"

Baast hissed like an angry cat before tucking her braids into her hood and lifting it over her head.

He was finding this all too amusing and too damn close to his dream to be real. "Cara Dune, Baast'mal."

Grogu cooed and reached with grabby hands for Cara, who accepted Din's and let him haul her to her feet. "Hey! Womp rat! I've missed you."

She reached for the kid, but the low growl from Baast had the three of them glancing her way. Her hands were clenched in fists, and though he could no longer see her eyes, he knew she glared at the lack of space between Grogu and Dune.

"Nayc," Baast growled.

"Why?" Din asked.

"Kaysh cuyir ner adiik."

He was only surprised for a moment. After her earlier emotions, it shouldn't have phased him she'd taken Grogu as her child.

"She is a friend," he murmured. "You can trust her with Grogu."

"Grogu?" Cara muttered. "Mando, what the kriff is this?"

"Ni taylir him o'r ner kar'ta," Baast growled, clenching her fists.

Din held out his hand, Grogu strangely silent like any Mandalore child would be when an unknown female attempted to touch the heart bound child of another. Grogu wasn't just a foundling to Baast, not anymore. She had accepted him as her child. 

This could all go sideways if he wasn't careful.

"Olaror," Din murmured, beckoning Baast to his side. "Udesla." He encouraged her to be calm when she arrived and placed her hand in his. "Haalur," he whispered for her ears alone. "No one will take him from us, but Dune has helped me get him back and keep him safe. You can trust her."

"I trust you," Baast sighed, her hand again finding its way to his elbow. "This place makes my hackles jump."

Suddenly, Cara wavered, her body rocking before she dropped to one knee. "Mando?" She fell to her side and rolled to her back. Her breath came hard and fast as dark lines raced to show her veins beneath her flesh. 

"That looks like poison," Din stated, handing Grogu to Baast before dropping down beside Cara.

"It is."

He glanced up in time to watch Baast throw back her hood and kneel beside him. "What are you talking about?

She held up an index finger and flexed it gently. From beneath the black nail emerged a sharp spine that glistened at the hollow tip. "They called it my Snake Tooth. It is full of Sand Cat venom. It appears I caught her with it. I thought her foe at the time."

"Maker," Din whispered. 

Dune was a dead woman.

"Give me your cuisse," Baast commanded as she set Grogu down, then batted his hands away. "No, ad'ika. It is more than you can heal. I will fix her."

"How?" Din asked as Dune began to claw at the ground. The pain must be excruciating, but she kept her teeth clenched.

"Your cuisse!" Baast snapped. "We have not much time." 

He began to unbuckle the thigh guard. "What are you going to do, Baast?"

The words barely cleared his lips before she reached into her mouth and yanked out a tooth. 

"Kriff!" he bellowed as blood dripped down her chin. "What was that?"

She swiped at her face, smearing blood before snatching his cuisse and turning it into a makeshift dish. "Your canteen."

He handed it over. "Baast?"

"I inherited the Manka's teeth. It is another reason they fight so hard to retrieve me." She ground the canteen down on the tooth, then added enough water to dissolve the powder before bringing his cuisse to Cara's blackening lips. "Drink and live."

Cara's wild eyes rolled to him, and Din nodded. She could trust Baast, even if the one had just tried to kill the other. 

Baast poured the liquid into Cara's mouth and made sure she swallowed before handing the thigh guard back to Din.

"How long does it take-"

"What the kriff is going on here!" Cara spat as she launched herself into a seated position, black lines receding like they were being erased.

"Hn. I see," Din chuckled. Faster than he had expected. He pulled a rag from his pocket, one always close at hand with Grogu around and dumped water on it before reaching to clean the blood from Baast's face. "How long until the tooth regrows?"

"Three weeks." Baast's lashes fluttered. She leaned into his hand like a cat enjoying the petting.

It made him sick, wondering how she knew that with such assurance. How many times had her torturers pulled her teeth? 

"You will want to avoid alcohol for the next full day. The powder will not allow harm to befall you. That includes pouring poison into your liver," Baast warned.

"What did you just do to me?" Cara demanded. 

"Saved your life. In the process, the Manka teeth make you invulnerable to harm for the next day." Baast lunged and laid Cara out, her sharp claws clenched around Cara's neck. "Do not waste this gift, and do not speak of it to anyone," she snarled.

"Or what?" Cara forced out. "I'm invulnerable to harm."

"I can still tear out your throat. Even my abilities cannot repair that." Baast gave her a bloody smile that was terrifying to see before releasing Dune and retrieving Grogu.

"I see you've made a new friend," Dune muttered. "She'd be hot if she wasn't terrifying."

Din smirked and helped Cara to her feet. "She is something."

She looked at him and arched a brow. "I think you like her."

He said nothing.

"Maker! You do!" Cara laughed and shook her head. "You know Karga thinks you married her. That she's something called a riduur? I said there's no way, not our Mando, but now I'm not sure." 

She peered up at him as if she could see through the visor. Din stared back until she huffed and shook her head. 

"Well, she fights dirty, so I guess that's a good thing. I never even felt her scratch me with that snake thingy."

"Snake Tooth," he murmured, watching Baast smile at Grogu as the little one played with the end of her braid.

"And she's sure not hard on the eyes," Dune murmured.

Jealousy soured Din's stomach. Baast was not his to covet, yet he wanted to. He wanted everyone to see how mesh'la she was, but he also wanted to hide her beauty away, let it be just for him to admire.

"What did you want, Dune?" he asked coldly.

She appeared to shake herself from Baast's thrall and turned toward him. "I just wanted to see the kid and check-in before you left again. Nothing exciting ever happens around here unless you're involved," she grinned.

"Was this excitement enough?" Din asked, amused.

"Nah," Cara scoffed. "That's a typical afternoon," she chuckled.

He snickered, watching Baast's face light up when Grogu chattered in coos and babbles. She murmured to him, spoke Mando'a so low she probably thought he couldn't hear her, but he could. He could hear her calling him sweet baby as she stroked his ear before she lifted him beneath her chin and rumbled that sound that made the thing in his chest purr back. 

If that didn't quit, he would have to get it checked by the covert's resident healer. 

It couldn't be healthy.

***

Pirusti met - well met

Nayc - no

Kaysh cuyir ner adiik - he is my child

Ni taylir him o'r ner kar'ta - I hold him in my heart

Olaror - come

Udesla - calm

Haalur - breathe

ad'ika - little one

***

Next Chapter

[allycryz]

Thancred x Nerys x Haurchefant for either Spring Prompt 4 or Spicy Prompt 10

I went with Spicy Prompt 10 (Praise Kink). For some background context the loose timeline right now is

Lakeland Invasion -> Emissary Haurchefant goes in disguise to infiltrate Eulmore as a soldier -> Amh Araeng- -> Thancred and Nerys get back together -> Than and Nerys hook up with Emet ->  Save Eulmore/Haurchefant -> Reunion Sex with Haurche turns into Thancred and Haurche Hooking Up for First Time

This is set after that while they work on the Ladder

Rated E, not for Everyone, Haurchefant gets praised and pampered

"Early tomorrow," says Thancred, wiping a forearm over his brow. His coat is a long abandoned pile on the lumber. "Should be ready to go by then, I think."

"Well ahead of schedule then." Nerys sits on the ground, propping her back against said lumber. They'd made her rest during the morning but she had made up for it during the afternoon. 

Better to have the distraction of work while she processed her earlier conversation with Emet-Selch.

"Come sit." She curls a finger at him. He looks...magnificent in the tight black shirt, his muscled arms shown to advantage. More than one of the laborers gives him an appreciative glance. 

"If I sit, I might not stand." He grins. "Did you see everything Chai-Nuzz had me haul around today?"

"Oh come now, you've had far more taxing days."

"After you and Haurchefant wore me out two days and nights in a row?" His grin grows bigger now and she can't help but return it.

She had imagined of course–what it might be like to have them both. Especially after she and Thancred reconciled. But she hadn't dared hope the two men would fit together as well as they did.

"So what was everything we did up until then? A warmup?"

"Well...Haurchefant is a wellspring of energy. Speaking of..."

The man himself strides towards them, clad in the golden armor bestowed upon him when he became the Crystarium's Emissary. There are appreciative glances for him too, but also double-takes.

There was a fairly recent addition in Eulmore; one of the soldiers who defected from the Crystarium after Vauthry's attack on Lakeland. A tall, black-haired, friendly fellow named Edmont Grey.

The glamour on his features is gone but there were enough similarities between the two handsome profiles. Those who didn't know must wonder if this man is related to the affable soldier. 

"I hoped I might find you together," he says. "Am I allowed to steal you away yet?"

"We were about to discuss that," says Nerys. "Thancred worries he cannot keep up with you, my lord."

Thancred nudges her arm with the toe of his boot. "Don't go spreading lies, sweetheart."

"If anything it should be the reverse. You two have been at work on the ladder all day while I have been spent the past hours in meetings or traveling via Amaro and Aetheryte." Haurchefant steps closer to Thancred, running a hand down the front of the tight black material. "Never fear, where I'm taking you has all the amenities to unwind."

Thancred watches the path of the gauntleted fingers as they stroke over his midriff. "And where is that?" 

"You'll see." Haurchefant turns to Nerys, extending a hand. She takes it and finds herself hauled up, tugged against his chest to receive a soft kiss. "Hello."

"Hello." She slips her arms about his neck, shivering as Thancred presses a hand to her lower back. "You may take us away, my lord. Alphi will tell the others where we have gone."

"Hm?" Haurchefant glances around, till he spots what Nerys had a few moments ago: Alphi trying not to get flustered seeing three of his comrades positioned as they were. He is a good ten yalms away and Haurchefant lifts a hand to wave emphatically. "Hello Alphinaud! I shall be borrowing these two, take care of the others!"

"Right," the youth calls back. Looking pointedly at their faces and not their hands. "Good evening!"

"When I was his age," Haurchefant says to the other two. "It had stopped surprising me when the knights retired to a single bunk, two or three at a time. We squires just made ourselves scarce for the evening."

"He admires you a great deal," says Nerys. "Maybe that's part of it."

"And you. And Thancred, of course."

"Mm, do not try to flatter me. That boy saw me at all my absolute worst and at best thinks of me as a wayward brother." Thancred sighs. "At least he doesnt delight in spilling about my past like Urianger and Alisaie."

"Sweet Urianger is an imp," says Haurchefant. "However, he did help me secure our destination. Please hold on tight."

They do and it is no hardship to embrace thus. Haurchefant wraps them in teleportation magicks, whirling them away from Kholusia…

...and to the colorful wilds of Il Mheg. They stand before a little cottage Nerys recognizes from her hunting ventures. Abandoned, not all that far from Lydha Lran. Or–it had been abandoned but looks freshly cleaned and aired out. 

Haurchefant holds up a hand and opens the door. "The game was that if they did not touch anything, I would give them something fun and sugary."

"And we did not!" A voice giggles above them. Three pixies hover above, watching expectantly. 

"Yes, it look quite well looked after.." He produces a handful of colorful paper straws sealed at both ends. "Tear off whichever end you like and you can eat the treat inside."

"...Haurche," Thancred says, eyes gleaming with mirth. "Are those-"

"We thank you Haurchefant," one of the pixies cooes. "It is too bad you won't play with us to-day…"

"Ah, but another day I should like to. Hide and seek the next time I am here?"

They nod, flying away with a burst of magic. None too soon because Thancred has to duck into the house and explode with laughter. The sound is like a balm to Nerys' heart–it has been too long since he made a sound of pure and utter delight like that. 

"Well," Haurcefant says, grinning. "There must be a reason the Crystarium merchants call it that. The fae love sugar."

"Good gods, Haurchafant," Thancred leans against the small dining table for support. Careful not to muss the place settings though it is a very near thing.

"It was a good idea," Nerys says, stifling her giggle. "It's no tricking them into making your tea but…"

“I prefer honest bribery with pixie sticks rather than elaborate ruses." Haurchefant grips her hand, urging her to take one of the chairs. The ache is getting worse the past few days, the churning of the light in her belly. So she doesn't protest. 

He steps over to a small ice chest and gathers up items for the table--cheese, cold cuts, fruit, a bottle of sweet Kholusian white. Butter to go with the loaf of bread he takes from a cabinet. "I...may have had a bell or two prior to bring things here, after my meetings."

"Look at that." Thancred steps over to him, laying an almost tentative hand on his arm. "You're a good man, Haurche."

Haurchefant beams under the compliment and the touch. Nerys watches the pull between them in silence, the hesitation before Thancred curls a hand in his hair and tugs him down. Kisses him soft and sweet, his murmur barely audible. "Very good."

She knows well the shiver that goes through Haurchefant. Nerys stands, needing a moment of support from the chair before walking over to them. Burying her hands in the soft fabric of Haurchefant's blue cape. "This was lovely of you, finding a private place and preparing this food for us."

"Truly, it is the least I might do." Haurchefant turns his head towards her. "And all I did was cut up some of the offerings."

"Still." Nerys finds the clasp of his cloak and removes the bilious garment. She peers over his shoulder at Thancred who gives her a minute nod. "Its exactly what we needed."

"Perfect." Thancred looks around the small space–the kitchenette, the table, and the largish bed in the corner. They'll have to huddle but that is fine. His gaze returns to Haurche and he smirks a little. "You're perfect."

"I know what you two are doing," Haurchefant says in a sing-song way. He moves his arms to let Thancred remove his cuirass. Sighs when his shoulders are bare and Nerys rubs soothing fingers into his shoulders.

"But it's working," she sing-songs back. "Let us take care of you, please."

"My love…" He turns in the circle of their arms, pressing his palms against her cheeks. His bright eyes bore into her and there is no hiding from him. There never is. "You need care as well I think."

"I do," she admits. "It will make me feel good to do this."

"And with that you have trapped me," he presses his forehead to hers. "As you take care of me, please let our Thancred also take care of you."

Our Thancred. Her heart flutters at that and she kisses him, her gratitude and joy permeating the contact.

Haurchefant's armor disappears piece by piece until he is pressed between them, cloth the only barrier left. Thancred tugs his lips down, dropping praise against his ear. "You're gorgeous in the armor and even better like this. And those hands-"

Those hands slide over Thancred who groans in appreciation. The three of them move in a tangle to the bed. Nerys feels hands on her own hips and chest, though it’s hard to tell at first who is touching what. Only that they're petting her, peeling off her leathers and tugging loosely at her short hair. 

She finds Haurchefant's ear and sucks lightly at the tip. "Do you know how beautiful you look right now? You almost never blush but…"

At that, the faint pink across Haurchefant's cheek grows. He sighs, turning his body to face hers and rubbing her hip. "This is the effect you have on me, beloved."

"Not just her, I hope." Thancred slips his arms about him from behind.

"Not just her. You're an attractive man, Thancred."

"Indecently so." Nerys adds. "He could bat those eyelashes at a king and receive half a kingdom."

"You forget, they called me Thancred of the Silver Tongue when I was a young and wild bard." That same tongue traces Haurchefant's jaw. "I am more than a...what did you say once? Infuriatingly handsome face?"

Nerys grins. "Alright then, please demonstrate how good you are with that silver miracle."

"Verbally or..." He slides his tongue into Haurchefant's mouth, kissing him into a pliant puddle of limbs. They're dazzling together–Thancred half-propped over the other man, hand curled about the knight' cheek. He directs Haurchefant's limbs upward, above his head. "Good boy."

Haurchefant groans. "What wickedness do you have planned for me?"

"No plan, moving as we are inspired to." Thancred presses a hand over his chest, kneading Haurchefant's pectoral through his shirt. "You're so beautiful Haurche, you drive a man wild. Whenever I look at you I think seven hells, how can we mortals be so lucky."

"Ha-I thought you were the pretty one," Haurchefant gasps, hands flexing above his head. "There-keep rubbing right there."

Nerys cannot hold herself back anymore, adding her hand to the ministrations. Slipping it beneath his shirt to cup the other pec, circle the nipple with her thumb. He starts to jerk forward, to reach for her-and then keeps his hands where they are above his head.

"You're so obedient for us," she says, kissing the underside of his jaw. "So good and sweet "

He sighs. "I would do anything for you."

"We know." Her lips travel to the column of his throat. The words fumble a little--Thancred and Haurchefant are good at reciting a litany of praises. She doesn't talk quite as much during.

As if he senses her doubts, Thancred grins at her and picks up where she leaves off. "How lucky we are, to have someone this giving and beautiful in our bed. Will you do us a favor, lovely one? Will you let us suck your cock?"

Haurchefant groans like a man wounded. "Fury, you don't even have to ask-"

"Of course we do." Their hands are quick at Haurchefant's laces, shoving down the supple leather leggings and the smalls all at once. They draw him out: already hard and in need of their succor. 

"You look amazing like this," Nerys says. "So still and good, and needing us to take care of you. And one of the prettiest cocks I've ever seen."

"Agree," says Thancred. "And we've both seen enough to know. Yours is by far one of the best."

Haurchefant groans, disobeying so that he might cover his eyes with a forearm. "You two will destroy me before I even feel your mouths on me."

"Look at us," Nerys begs and he lifts the arm. His lips are parted, his cheeks flushed, his eyes blown wide with desire. "There. I want your eyes on us, and not just because they're exquisite."

Thancred nods his approval at that. "And promise to be vocal, so we know when we're doing a good job."

"You have my vow."

"Good boy." Thancred licks a stripe along one side of the shaft and Nerys the other, meeting in an open mouthed kiss at the head. Haurchefant obliges them with a moan and some very improper Ishgardian curses. "Nerys, suckle him."

She obeys without hesitation, drawing the swollen head into her mouth. A gentle but insistent hand cups the back of her neck, lips brush her cheek and whisper, "Good girl."

Nerys shivers. If she isn't careful, Thancred will have her as overwhelmed as Haurchefant is.

The pressure increases until she takes more of Haurchefant, savoring him with the flat of her tongue even as her jaw aches and he slides further into her throat. She watches as Thancred changes his angle, drawing the heavy sac into his mouth while she bobs up and down the shaft.

Haurchefant gasps, hands once again reaching for them before he returns them above his head. Thancred draws himself up and murmurs something into his ear-too quiet for Nerys to parse but Haurche’s cock twitches in her mouth with each syllable. 

She looks up and can see Haurchefant's eyes shut tight, his breathing growing faster. Nerys takes a shallow breath through her nose and takes him deeper. It is never an easy feat, big as he is, but she wants this for her dear knight. 

Haurchefant gasps, pressing his face into Thancred's shoulder. The words become louder, probably for her benefit.

"Look how she takes you, big boy that you are. That's how much she wants to make you feel good. You deserve to feel good-"

"Thancred," Haurchefant pants. "Nerys, I don’t have much control left-"

"Yes you do. We know you do." Thancred slides back down, tugging Nerys away with gentle hands. Putting his own mouth upon Haurchefant's straining cock.

"There you go," Nerys says, cupping his sack with gentle fingers before subtly increasing the pressure. "Our lovely knight has so much control left."

"Yours," Haurchefant sobs. "Yours, I'm yours-"

"Ours," she hums, lips pressing to the base of his shaft where neither of them can manage to swallow. "Our wonderful, perfect Haurche."

His back arches and she can feel the control shaking through him, the strain to hold back and be good for them. 

Nerys' eyes meet Thancred. He pulls off with a gentle pop and their twined hands replace their mouths, their mouths hover close to the head.

"Come for us," Thancred says, drawing their hands quick over the spit-slicked cock. "We need you."

"Please," says Nerys and it seems to be the last straw for Haurchefant, who comes with a desperate yell. Painting their faces, their open mouths. He babbles through it–declarations of love and need that twine with the other two's fervent praise.

He sags into the mattress, as if it might cocoon him. Tugs at their hair and arms until they rise to meet him with slow, tender kisses. 

"You did so good," she tells him and he smiles.

"So did you. And you, dear Thancred. Silver tongue indeed."

"He's very good with it." Nerys says, curling against her love. And then seeing the mischievous glint in his eye. Uh oh.

"Oh really?" Haurchefant smirks. "I think I need to see it again, on a willing test subject. Do you volunteer?"

Her own need pulses between her legs and she nods. Swallows. "Yes, I think I do."

"Good girl," says Thancred, as he crawls over to her, a leg swinging over her waist. "Shall we?"

[concussed-to-pieces]

Stay Safe Part Six: Go Alone

Fandom: The Mandalorian [Star Wars]

Pairing: Eventual Mandalorian [Din Djarin]/Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Welcome, welcome! I hope you all are doing well. We get a touch salacious in this one, you could say. Enjoy!

Tag List: @huliabitch @wrestlingfae @toxiicpop @helplessly-nonstop @culturalrebel @sinnamon-bunn @literal-fand0m-trash @fioccodineveautunnale @hxldmxdxwn @lizajane3 @thewaythisis @nellyneko @absurdthirst @kylolover96 @crownofmanga @eli-bourne

Part One: Should Have Known Better

Part Two: Tranquil Turmoil

Part Three: Vibroblade Mettle

Part Four: Reaching Out

Part Five: Dark Past

"So…" you began, swinging your legs back and forth nonchalantly from your customary spot in the co-pilot seat.

"If you have something to ask, then ask." The Mandalorian replied curtly.

Well that was encouraging. "I know it's none of my business, but I was...um, you and Xi'an, did you guys ever…" You trailed off, the reflection of your face in the back of his helmet reminding you anew of the prudence of silence. "You know what, f-forget I even asked, I'm sorry, I know I-"

"We did not." He interjected stiffly.

"Oh!" You hated the relief that bled into your voice, over-certain that he had picked up on it. "But...I mean, the way that she-"

"Ran asked some...things of me to, er, maintain the status quo on the team when we operated together. Xi'an was a...a loose cannon, too useful and dangerous to be left to her own devices." The bounty hunter explained. "She enjoys the hunt. So I was the unattainable quarry."

"Oh." You weren't quite sure what to make of that. "She...hunted...you?"

"Not literally. She'd be dead." He said flatly. "Figuratively."

"But you guys didn't like...y'know." You barely refrained from making some weird, suggestive gestures. You were relatively certain that would get you slabbed immediately, despite his assurances to the contrary.

He shrugged. "Nope. Wasn't interested in the compromises she offered, and she, even if she didn't know it, preferred the mystery over the man." His voice was soft. 

You wondered if he had wanted her to know him. Really know him. Asking that would be incredibly invasive though, even more so than you had been already, so you bit back the query in lieu of pretending to check the munitions terminal.

"Why?" 

You jumped at his question, even though he hadn't been overly loud or sharp. "I uh-! I just...I was just curious, that's all." You blustered, rushing to unbuckle the seat harness. "Sorry, excuse me, I hear the-"

He reached back and touched your wrist, halting you mid-flight. He didn't say anything. Hell, he didn't even turn in the seat. 

His fingers slowly wrapped around your wrist, squeezed once, and then he released you. 

Confused, flushed, your heart hammering in your throat, you escaped down the ladder into the sanctuary of the hold. 

Once there you sank to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest after a moment. Your face felt like it was on fire. What was that?! you asked yourself in a panic, your hands curling into tight fists over your knees. Was that his way of chastising you for being so nosy? Or was it something a little more difficult to define?

You could still feel the weight of his armored hand on your wrist, the gentleness of the squeeze that belied the raw strength he had displayed numerous times.

The child yawned awake in their bassinet and you lunged upright, more than ready for the distraction.

…

"Oh baby you're the only thing in this whole world that's pure and good and right." You began to sing several hours later, poking the frowning child and grinning when they burst into giggles. "And wherever you are and wherever you go, there's always gonna' be some light. But I gotta' get out, I gotta' break out now, before the final crack of dawn."

You scooped the kid up, swaying them back and forth in time with your singing.

"So we gotta' make the most of our one night together, cuz' when it's over, you know, we'll both be so alone…" You dipped the child, laughing through the chorus as they squealed and waved their tiny hands in glee. "Like a bat out of hell I'll be gone when the morning comes! When the night is over, like a bat out of hell, I'll be gone, gone, gone. Like a bat out of hell I'll be gone when the morning comes!"

You paused, posing dramatically and then continuing your madcap choreography with the child. They were clearly enjoying themselves, babbling along as you belted out the next part of the song and twirled through the hold.

"But when the day is done, and the sun goes down, and the moonlight's shining through...then, like a sinner before the gates of Heaven, I'll come crawling on back to you…" You gently tweaked the baby's nose, "you, youuuuu-" 

You spun around while taking a deep breath to carry on with the next verse, only to be met with the featureless stare of one Mandalorian bounty hunter. Your tune abruptly ended with a sharp hurk.

"You do cantina shows?" He asked casually after you had turned every shade of red imaginable. "You and the kid would be a hell of a performance." He slung one ankle over the other and leaned against the wall. "Came down to tell you that we're about ten minutes out from Sorgan."

"H-How long…" you trailed off, not sure if you really wanted to know. 

"Chorus." He answered the unfinished question. 

"Good. Great. Wonderful." You ducked your face to blow a raspberry on the child's cheek, using the time to effectively hide. Maker, this was so embarrassing!

"Was about to join in, but I prefer to leave singing and dancing to the professionals." He shrugged. "Singing is easier with a group of people who also wear armor and can't carry a tune to save their lives."

"You're not funny." You replied weakly.

"You sure about that, stowaway?"

"Positive. Unless you mean funny-looking."

He scoffed, shaking his head. "That cuts deep." He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back slightly, giving you the impression that he was studying you. "I've set up a rendezvous location with Dune. Hopefully, I'll be there and back by tomorrow morning."

"Oh! She agreed?" You exclaimed, more than a little surprised.

"All I had to do was tell her the Imps were involved and she was chompin' at the bit." He hesitated for a moment, then continued. "That being said, I'm gonna' take the kid with me and have you mind the ship."

"W...What?" You asked, uncertain if you had heard him correctly. 

"Look, it makes sense this way. Tracking fobs will be on the child. If I have him with me, both myself and Cara can keep him safe. Meanwhile, you have the ship primed and ready for takeoff. The failsafe."

"But…"

"You have to see it the way I do. If someone came after you and the kid while I was gone-" He cleared his throat. "I don't want to consider the outcome. So I'll bring him with me."

"No, I get it." You said shortly, moving past him to secure the child in their bassinet for the impending landing. They pouted, seeming upset that their playtime had come to such a sudden end. "I know, little one. We'll have more fun later. I promise." You whispered.

"Please don't be angry." The armored man sighed.

"I'm not angry." You retorted, "I'm...I'm peeved."

"Sounds kind of like you're angry." 

"Well that just...shows how much you know." You grumbled, latching onto the ladder and hauling yourself up into the cockpit (theoretically to escape from the bounty hunter). But of course, he followed. It is his ship, after all, you reasoned begrudgingly.

With the two of you standing awkwardly in the cockpit, it was more than a little cramped. The Mandalorian shifted his weight, rubbing the back of his neck. "I don't want anything to happen. To either of you." He sounded tired. "Whether you like it or not, the kid's a magnet for trouble. And out of the two of us, I'm the better fighter."

"I know that." You whispered, staring at the floor.

"I'm not...look, I know you care about him just as much as I do. Probably more. I barely remember blowing a hole in that droid and just praying that I shot it before it shot you." He muttered. "The idea of something happening to y--to that little womp rat is...dammit, I don't know. Maybe Xi'an was right. Maybe the Creed has made me soft." His tone was more frustrated now.

"I don't think that's necessarily a bad thing." 

He huffed incredulously. "In my line of work?"

"Well, you may need to get new business chits." You allowed. "Ones that say things like 'bounty hunter, father of one'." 

He took your hands in his own, ignoring your pointed ribbing in favor of staring down at you. "I'll keep him safe." He assured you.

"You…" You shook your head, and then dropped your forehead to rest on his breastplate. "You had better." You whispered harshly.

The drive system beeped rapidly, signaling that the Crest was preparing to drop out of hyperspace. 

Which it did immediately. 

With extreme prejudice. 

You lost your balance and stumbled bodily into the Mandalorian, who lost his own footing and met the rear cockpit wall with a resounding clatter of beskar. He quickly shifted himself to press your back to the flat surface, his knees bent slightly to keep his balance and arms holding you steady while the ship's trajectory smoothed out. 

"You alright?" He finally asked, sounding a little breathless. He hadn't let go of you yet, probably waiting to make certain you were secure.

"Yeah, are you?" You responded in kind, worriedly looking up at him. "I hit you pretty hard, I'm sorry."

He swallowed audibly, taking an inordinate amount of time to reply, "I--I'm fine." 

"I guess this means it's time to get ready."

"Yeah." The Mandalorian nodded. Something strange lingered in the way he had his head bent low and slightly to the side, how soft his voice was. It settled into the pit of your stomach, leaving you tongue-tied in his arms. 

Early morning sunlight poured through the cockpit's transparent shielding, warming the steely blue of his armor to a fiery bronze. What would it be like to kiss him? The thought skittered through your mind and you felt a rush of shame, averting your eyes out of the nonsensical fear that he might be able to read your thoughts. Was it wrong to wonder about something like that if the object of the fantasy was a Mandalorian? 

"You...you can let go of me now." You pointed out quietly after several seconds. "I think we've evened out."

"Oh!" He exhaled sharply, scrambling to remove his hands. He bumped his helmet into your chin in his rush, flinching when you yelped in pain. "Shit, shit, hang on." He cupped your face, carefully framing your jaw so he could examine your mouth. "I'm sorry, that'll probably bruise." He said ruefully. 

"I'll be okay. Serves me right for treating you like a landing pad." You tried to joke, waving off his concern.

His thumb swept carefully beneath your split lower lip, the motion achingly cautious. "You're bleeding." He murmured, following it with another quiet, "I'm sorry."

"Hey, I'll be fine." You answered just as quietly. "It was an accident."

"I know, I just...I'll go get something for that."

…

A comlink was dropped into your waiting palm, and then the Mandalorian tapped the side of his helmet. "That's rigged to my in-ear. Just be careful with the talk button, it sticks sometimes."

"Of course, yeah." You said absently, closing your fingers around the small tube. 

"You're not listening." He observed, his shoulders sagging a little in resignation.

"N-No, I totally am!" You protested.

"You're concerned."

"...well, yes."

"Don't be." His helmet pressed to your forehead.

"You know, as much as you want to be an infallible constant or some...untouchable warrior, you're not." You closed your eyes. "I'm scared because things seem to be getting tighter and tighter. Like a noose." There it was. The honest truth. The low-lying panic that had your stomach in knots.

"That's the plan, yes." He stated ever-so-helpfully. His hands hovered warily for a second before gripping your shoulders. "Nothing will go wrong. And even if it does, I've gotten out of worse scrapes than some Imps trying to kill me." Maker, he might be the least capable person alive when it came to the task of reassuring someone.

"Is it so bad of me to not want you to have to get out of it in the first place?" You retorted. 

"No, of course not." He replied, sounding a little confused. "But this is how it's always been."

"I know. I'm sorry, I'm just...I'm being dumb again." You sighed. "Don't mind me."

He shook his head, then tipped it to the side. "You're not being dumb," He chastised, the tone of his voice strangely gentle again. "You're being careful. It's not your fault that I fight like I don't have anything to lose in nearly every situation." He hesitated for a moment. "It's...good of you to remind me. Makes me remember that I have others depending on me now." 

The smile was evident in his voice, and you felt your face light up despite your best efforts to maintain a neutral expression. "Well, good! You'd better stay safe, then. Promise me you will?"

The Mandalorian drew his thumb down the center of his breastplate, then tapped his fingers twice against his chin. "I promise." He said solemnly.

"What does that actually mean?" You asked curiously, gesturing at his chest.

"Thought in heart," He repeated the motion, "said with mouth. Two taps with two fingers on chin to indicate solid, rigid. Firm like beskar." You pulled your thumb down your chest and then tapped your chin in an approximation of his own gesture. He chuckled, moving forward and folding your fingers a little differently. "Just the first two of your hand. Index and middle. Trigger fingers." 

"D-Do you guys have other signs?" You queried, trying valiantly to hide how his touch had made your breath shudder.

"We wear helmets." He replied bluntly. "A lot of times we have to rely on gestures or body language instead of expressions." After a moment's pause he deadpanned, "this is the Way."

"Like what?"

He touched his hand to the side of his head, then fanned his fingers out. "Aru'e, enemy ahead, indicate how many with your fingers." He instructed, "So if there's three, you tuck your pinky, like this."

"What about this one?" You attempted to mimic the motion you had seen him direct at the child many times, startled when you heard him inhale roughly.

When he finally answered, his voice had a strange rasp to it. "Ad'ika. Little one, or Foundling. Start by pointing with two fingers. Again, solid, rigid, then one finger, for youth. Drag the thumb up from the corner of your mouth, for smile or joy, keep your hand open to indicate happiness." 

You clumsily tried to follow along, running through the gestures a few times until you didn't mix them up. Your heart squeezed in your chest as you realized that he had been silently referring to the child as a Foundling, as his Foundling. Possibly this entire time.

"Very good." He praised, thumping his armored knuckles against your own. "But just wait until we get to the difficult ones."

"How difficult are we talking?"

"You have shaadlar and nari, both of which mean move, but only one of them means to move. The other means move, just in general. So the gesture is like a shove, you put your whole arm into it like this…"

...

After he and the child left, you did your best to occupy yourself with some light repair work. The day stretched on like an interminable expanse, boredom and wariness combined to settle like a block of beskar in your stomach. 

You tried not to think about it, you really did. You didn't so much as touch the comlink. You kept yourself busy by sweeping out the hold, restacking and shoving the numerous crates into some semblance of order that wouldn't topple onto you in an emergency. Hell, you even used the cargo nets to actually secure the cargo. What was the world coming to?

Rain started to fall as the sun set, clouds tinted pink and orange from the fading rays. You squinted up at the sky and heaved a sigh, loathe to close yourself up in the Razor Crest but not incredibly eager to get rained on. 

You cast one last glance out towards the darkening woods as you waited for the hatch to close, shaking your head ruefully at your own behavior. This was pitiful.

You then proceeded to hang upside down in the ladder port long enough to give yourself a headache, staggering a little when you got to your feet. You fell into the captain's seat sideways, almost toppling off the other side of it with a quiet snicker. 

You wondered what he would say if he could see your antics. Probably something like, "get out of my chair, stowaway." Or maybe all you would get is that particular sigh he seemed to reserve just for you, the one that smacked of extra exasperation. You bit your lip, one foot on the floor moving the chair slightly side to side. 

How annoying. Right back where you started.

You cracked your knuckles and spread your fingers wide, imitating his sure motions as you hovered a safe distance above the toggles, switches and buttons on the control panels in front of you. You then shielded your eyes with your hand, staring studiously out from beneath your palm at the coniferous greenery that surrounded the Crest. 

"Hmm, yes stowaway, I see the problem." You mused theatrically, pitching your voice low to mimic his modulated tone, "the T of my visor appears to limit me to only seeing things that start with the letter T. Like tree." You turned your head, narrowing your eyes. "And troublemaker." Drawing an imaginary blaster, you sauntered over to the ladder port. "Alright quarry, you got two choices." You drawled, crouching by the port. "I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in-"

You stopped dead, straining your ears. What was that noise? It sounded like…

It came again, louder this time. Like a wet boot hitting the floor with a dull splat. Your heart began to pound and you reached for your knife. I'm trapped up here. How did they get in? I set the proximity alarms-!

If it was Klatoonians, you could kiss your ass goodbye. They would be out for revenge, probably assuming that the Mandalorian was onboard. But you weren't about to give them an easy time.

You waited at the top of the ladder, holding your breath for what felt like forever. Every once in a while, you would hear that sound again and it would send a new rush of trepidation through you. You waited, and waited.

And waited.

The suspense was going to kill you before whatever was in the hold could.

You finally let your breath out in a slow rush, steeling yourself. The hold was still illuminated with the running lights. You should have a fighting chance against whoever was down there. At least, you wouldn't be fumbling totally in the dark. That was kind of like having an advantage, right?

Before you could think better of essentially throwing yourself at the enemy, you slid down the ladder and whirled to face your aggressor. "I'm warning you, I'm-!" You trailed off in confusion, looking around warily at the seemingly-vacant hold. "...armed?"

Down at your feet, there was a quiet splat and a mudjumper bumped into the side of your boot.

You sighed, "you've got to be fucking kidding me." You squatted down, scooping up the befuddled creature. "You little bastard. I ought to feed you to the kid." You threatened, giving it a tap on the snout. "I thought you were somebody coming to destroy me."

The mudjumper blinked up at you, and then licked one of its eyes. You grimaced. 

"Yeesh. Alright, I'm evicting you." Elbowing the button to open the bottom slat of the ramp, you tipped the amphibious beast back out into the woods. "And good riddance." You huffed, brushing your hands off on your tunic. 

...

Late that evening you sprawled out on the floor of the cockpit, just enough room between the seats and the door to keep you comfortable. You could have slept in the bunk, of course, but you had been avoiding it. The memories of that droid staring you down were a bit too fresh at this particular juncture.

You had the comlink on the floor next to your head in case you needed it. You had checked and doublechecked the proximity alarm system. All was quiet in the woods around the Razor Crest. The only thing left was to shut your eyes and attempt to sleep.

Half an hour later you huffed in aggravation, rolling over onto your back for what felt like the hundredth time. Overhead, rain pattered softly against the clear cockpit shielding. 

Your gaze lingered on the comlink, picking it up after a momentary debate and pressing the button on the side. "H-Hey, are you there?" Your throat was so dry all of a sudden.

"Yeah." He replied almost immediately. "Trouble?"

You closed your eyes in relief at the familiar sound of his voice. "No, sorry. I just…figured I'd check in before I go to bed. Status update."

"Made it to the rendezvous point. Set up a post here for the night. Will head out at dawn if no contact." He said quietly, static softening his modulation. 

"How's the baby?"

"Tired." There was a muffled rustling noise. "He conked out as soon as we stopped moving."

"Make sure he eats, please."

"Copy."

You sat there awkwardly for several seconds before clicking the button one last time to wish him a peaceful night (which he didn't respond to, of course) and placing the comlink carefully back on the floor. You wrapped your arms around your legs, thumping your forehead against your knees in frustration. "Why is it so hard to talk to him?" You mumbled. "Gods, I just…" You trailed off, rubbing at your eyes. "This is stupid. I'm being stupid." You berated yourself, sliding down onto your back even as you spoke.

You stared up at the rain-speckled shielding for several more minutes, chewing on your lower lip feverishly while you replayed his voice in your head. Even when he didn't speak, he somehow managed to say what he needed to. You thought of the tilt of his helmet when he was studying something, the way his hands hungrily devoured his environment. He could be as bad as the kid sometimes when it came to touching things. 

Then, there was the soft hitch of his breath when he had to speak a little louder; his vast library of groans, grunts and sighs. For being so stoic, he certainly made a lot of noises. Noises that, should your mind be so inclined towards thinking in a more lascivious manner, piqued your interest.

A wicked thought came to you, riding on the memory of him being poisoned. Honest words tumbling out of his mouth in a frenzy, the way he had looked at you, really looked at you. You could feel his stare even through his visor, "nice t' look at, too."

Did he really think about you like that? And earlier, when the ship had dropped out of hyperspace...

Born of your loneliness, or maybe just touch-starved infatuation, your imagination conjured up a racy scenario for you to enjoy. The idea of him settling in between your legs with a modulator-filtered curse had your breath quickening, and you warred momentarily with your guilt. Ludicrously, you came up with the justification that as long as you didn't imagine him without his helmet, it probably wasn't that offensive. 

Effectively granted permission for your thoughts, you undid the clasps on your placket and shoved your pants down around your ankles. Tonight, you decided, you would take your time. You were truly alone for the first instance in what felt like a short eternity, and it was time to indulge. 

You rolled over and got your knees beneath you, arching your back. Your trembling palm traveled down the length of your body, the slightly-colder skin making you dream of the slide of beskar on your sensitive belly and thighs. The first graze of your fingers had you whimpering into your blanket, gods it had been too long. You were barely even wet yet and already you were aching. You sobbed out a breath, your chest rubbing against the blanket with your motions. 

In your mind, however, it was the Mandalorian cupping your breasts, the Mandalorian's fingers that tortured you in near silence. You canted your hips, whispering, "please," already begging for more. Would he keep his gloves on during the act, stain the leather with your arousal? Or would he be too hungry to resist touching you barehanded? "Stars, please-" 

You plucked at your nipple with a soft little whine and teased yourself with your fingers at the edge of your entrance. How full would he make you feel? Would he shove himself in all at once, or make you beg for it? Would he tease you?

Your fingers plunged in and you gasped, your eyes rolling back in your head when you curled your index. Just thinking about him touching you in this way was enough to have you in spasm! Stars, you had it bad. 

But what if he wanted you just as much as you wanted him? What if, what if...

"Oh please fuck me…" you moaned. "I need you, pl-please-" It felt silly, but also infinitely hotter to finally say it out loud, almost as if you were practicing for the real thing. "Gods, fuck me open with that Mandalorian cock, please please please-" you rambled, giving in to the urge to be as filthy as you wished. 

Your own sense of touch faded away, replaced with the scuff of imaginary leather or the sleek glide of beskar. What would he sound like? Would he be vocal? Or would he be stoic, silent, just taking what he needed from you?

"I'm so wet for you." You crooned, spreading your legs a little wider. "So wet, just for you…" Slick pooled in your palm when you ground your clit down against the heel of your hand, the heated noise it made startlingly loud in the quiet of the cabin. "I want to feel your cock, want to know what you feel like inside me, gods, please…"

You had never felt so boldly lewd in all your life as you fucked yourself with your own fingers, your mouth running away from you when you sped up.

"It's not enough." You panted. "Not enough, my fingers aren't enough…gods, I need my Mandalorian to fuck me right. Please, please please I need you." You bit down on the blanket, rocking your hips against your hand frantically. "Please, please, fill me up, please, fuck me, fuc-k me…" you begged into the fabric, your thighs quivering as your body pulled tight in anticipation.

When you came apart, it was like stars filled your eyes. You writhed against your own hand, hips shuddering out of sync. You wished that he was inside you, you wished more than anything that you could feel him-

"I'm coming, please-" You whimpered through your orgasm, relaxing boneless on the blanket as exhaustion finally dragged at you.

When you could move again, you wiped your fingers off on your thigh and stretched, moaning in self-satisfaction before tugging your pants back up. Then, you shakily got to your feet to go clean yourself up in the refresher. 

You barely remembered getting back to your blankets, slumber already encroaching even as you climbed the ladder up to the cockpit.

…

The next morning you awoke early, feeling incredibly refreshed and chipper. Clearly that evening of hands-on indulgence was what you had been missing from your life, and you vowed to make more time for yourself in the future.

After your hearty breakfast of canned meat and some vegetables you managed to scare up, you retrieved the comlink to check in on the Mandalorian. "Stowaway to Mandalorian, all clear on my end. ETA?" 

No reply. 

You frowned, turning the small tube over in your hand. The button to talk was still depressed even after you had released it, effectively silencing any message that might have been directed at you. You pursed your lips and tugged out your knife, carefully using the tip to free up the button. Then, you tried again, this time being more delicate with the button so it didn't get caught. "Stowaway to Mandalorian, sorry for any feedback. Technical difficulties. All clear on my end. ETA?"

"I told you the damn button would get stuck if you weren't careful." He griped, making you grin.

"Aw, did someone wake up on the wrong side of the bed?" You teased.

"Didn't sleep well. We're fifteen minutes out, Dune walking drag. No pursuers yet, but get everything stowed and ready." He ordered curtly.

"Will do." You replied, saluting even though he couldn't see you. 

It didn't take much time for you to have all equipment squared away in preparation to launch, and you waited impatiently at the top of the loading ramp to spot the gleam of his armor through the trees. 

Soon enough, out he and Cara strode with the child in tow. The little one was babbling wildly as they toddled along beside the two adults, obviously carrying on quite the conversation. "Dune!" You greeted the ex-trooper happily, getting pulled into a rib-cracking hug for your trouble. "And I missed you!" You sang to the kid, scooping them up off the ground to briefly fly overhead. "Were you good for your papa?" You asked, beeping their nose softly. "Didn't cause him any trouble, right?"

You heard the Mandalorian sputter strangely, the armored man suddenly struck by a fit of coughing. Cara thumped him on the back worriedly. "Tadpole's an angel. Eats all his vegetables and everything." She assured you with a grin.

"Enough small talk. There's still one more stop after this." The Mandalorian managed to say, straightening back up and fidgeting with his gauntlets.

"Are you alright?" You asked, reaching out a hand to touch his arm. He actually jumped at the contact and you pulled back, confused.

"Sorry, I...I didn't get much sleep." His chuckle sounded forced, but he still bumped his helmet briefly against your forehead before he headed up the boarding ramp. 

Carasynthia cocked her head to the side, her eyes narrowed at the armored man's back. But all she did was huff out a breath and follow after him, leaving you to bring up the rear with the child. "All that battle-rattle must be scrambling his brain." She muttered to you, making you snicker.

"Sit down and strap in." The Mandalorian called, already halfway up the ladder to the cockpit.

"Well pollywog, you heard the boss." Dune shrugged at the child, smirking when they started giggling. "Stars, why can't human kids be as nice as this one? Human kids always look like angry piglets."

…

The final stop between Sorgan and Nevarro was on Arvala-7.

An old Ugnaught came to greet you all at the door of what was clearly his modest moisture farm, his deep-set eyes roving over the group laid out in front of him. "I see your family has grown, Mandalorian. More Foundlings?" He asked dryly.

"I need your help." The armored man rasped, getting right to the point.

"I assumed as much. Why else would you return? Come in, all of you. Whatever you need, I'm certain it can wait until after supper." The Ugnaught urged, waving for you to follow.

The small dwelling was somewhat cramped with everyone squeezed into the common area, and you kept accidentally bumping elbows with Cara. After the Ugnaught had plated some strange-looking concoction (which ended up tasting surprisingly good), he settled down into his chair with a grunt. "I too have gained an addition, my armored friend." He mused, gesturing towards the doorway.

A tall, thin droid carefully bent nearly double to enter the structure, a tray gripped in its digits. "Would anyone care for some tea?" It enquired.

Before it had finished speaking the Mandalorian had his blaster out and aimed. You blinked up at him, a little startled. The Ugnaught raised a peaceable hand. "Please, please, lower your blaster. It will not harm you."

"That thing is programmed to kill the baby." The Mandalorian snapped furiously.

"What?!" You shrieked, hurrying to unsheath your vibroblade. Cara's elbow slammed against your bicep as she pulled her own blaster out and you yelped, almost losing your grip on the knife.

The droid's multiple sets of eyes whirred in the silence that followed, the metallic being observing the weapons leveled at it. "That was its intended purpose, yes. But I have rebuilt it." The Ugnaught answered serenely.

"How much of it, though?" You waved your hands, sputtering, "I don't mind droids, but hell."

"Your Mandalorian trusts me, or at least my work. IG-11 no longer poses a threat to the child." 

"I trust it under certain circumstances." The armored man muttered, his blaster staying exactly where it was. "Is it still a hunter?"

"No. But it will protect."

The IG unit seemed to be staring at the Mandalorian, who was glaring back at it harder than you had ever seen him glare. Really putting his shoulders into it.

"Tea?" The droid offered him a steaming cup, clenched in spindly fingers. You heard the Mandalorian exhale hard as Cara nodded in his stead, holstering her blaster and gingerly accepting the cup. At least one of you could be polite!

The Ugnaught rose from his chair after several tense moments had passed, stating that he needed to feed the blurrgs. The Mandalorian stalked out behind him, the armored man transparently attempting to have a private conversation. "Watch that." He ordered you curtly, gesturing at the droid.

You nodded, gamely turning to stare intently at the machine that was currently standing in a...well, not very menacing fashion. You imagined most individuals, even trained killing robots, wouldn't look particularly threatening while balancing a tray of tea-things. 

"I appear to have upset him." IG-11 commented after a moment of enduring your stare. "This was not my intention."

"Don't beat yourself up about it." Cara remarked with a touch of amusement. "He's got some weird thing about droids."

Your mind flew back to Z, the droid that had cornered you in the bunk. "I kind of understand why." You said quietly. "There was...well, an incident, with the kid and I." Cara raised an eyebrow. "We got...we were, um. We were trapped, in the bunk."

"Oh." The ex-trooper said weakly. "Well. I guess I can...I guess I'll give him that one then. Someone was going after the tyke?" She asked, reaching out a gentle hand to said tyke. The kid babbled happily, their little fingers grasping at Cara's.

"Yeah, it was a droid. One of the compound-eyed ones, too fast for me to stop it." You mumbled. "All I had was my knife."

Cara was quiet for a while, just swinging the baby's arm to and fro. "If you do not require further libations, I shall go and assist Kuiil." The droid announced stiffly, breaking the silence. 

"Wait!" You exclaimed, rushing to stand. "Just, um, wait until they come back, please?" You went on to hastily suggest, "can you, uh, show me where to put the dishes? Maybe we can clean this up while they're busy."

The droid's head rotated on a strange axis, so it took you a second to realize that it was nodding at you. "Of course. It is part of my normal duties to clear the table. It would be wise for me to accomplish this task before attempting a new one."

Inwardly you breathed a sigh of relief, almost positive that you had saved this droid from certain doom. You couldn't help but wonder how the Mandalorian knew this particular IG unit was programmed to kill the child. Perhaps they had crossed paths previously?

…

The Mandalorian's discussion with the Ugnaught Kuiil secured him not only his support, but the help of the droid as well and apparently, several blurrg. 

You were certain this trip would be a logistical nightmare. Good thing you had spent nearly an entire day cleaning out the hold! Even with the room made by stacking things properly, it would no doubt be a snug fit.

Kuiil insisted that you all stay the night either way, the Ugnaught's tone brooking no argument. The Mandalorian had heaved a sigh, but acquiesced. 

The child was already drowsy, the potent combination of a full belly and busy day working overtime to ensure a restful night. Kuiil actually rustled up a small crate for the kid to sleep in, his large hands remarkably careful as he swaddled the yawning child in an old quilt.

You were just settling them into their makeshift bed for the evening when you heard the familiar rattle of beskar. The armored man poked his head into the room after a momentary delay, his voice quiet when he requested your presence in the Crest as soon as possible.

You glanced up at him, a little confused. "Me? But-" You began to protest, indicating downwards at the child.

Cara nudged you towards the doorway, her lips quirked into an odd, almost smug smile. "I can manage tucking in the pollywog for tonight. Go help him out." She urged.

Part Seven

[spell-cleaver]

Astrophilia

@star-wars-wlweek

Day 6: Fake Dating/Marriage & Hurt/Comfort

Read it on AO3 and on FFN!

In a final world, the largest steps may be taken without a blink: acquaintances, allies, friends. But in the middle of a war comes the harsh reality that any close relationship is strained, any bond is forged and all are tested.

Some, despite the odds, hold true.

*

The nondescript ship they’d hired was the last place one would find a princess, so it was perfect. Add to that the fact that Tatooine was also the last place to look, and that she was wearing her hair in a plain bun tucked under her hood rather than her elaborate styles, and it became almost impossible that someone should recognise Leia in these clothes.

That didn’t make Qi’ra any less nervous. “We need to sell this, remember.”

“I remember.” Leia cast a look at herself in the mirror, grimacing at the beige robes she was wearing to blend in. Behind her, she saw Qi’ra make the same face. “Though there are plenty of people trying to fly under the radar here. I doubt anyone will look too closely.”

“Better safe than sorry.”

Leia nodded. She could respect that.

“What are our aliases again?” She turned back to Qi’ra as the beep went off that warned they’d be reverting to realspace, and headed to the cockpit.

“My contact was unfortunately obnoxious and gave me limited options, so I am Rey Salli and you are Anna Salli, my wife.”

“Your contact was obnoxious?”

“He knew this was supposed to be a quick job but decided to make us work for it.”

“We have to pretend to be married?”

“If you can stand to do so.”

Leia smiled. “I think I can, yeah.”

QI’ra met her gaze. “I’m only here because you’re paying me, remember.”

“I know.” Leia tamped down her disappointment. “And I appreciate that you keep sticking with the Alliance despite how poorly we do pay.”

“You pay—” She faltered. “Better than other jobs.”

No they didn’t.

Leia glanced at the monitor. “We’re reverting to realspace in five, four, three, two, one—”

They flashed into space above Tatooine, a yellow-brown dustball hanging in the viewport, two suns burning furiously in the distance. Despite what a miserable world she knew it to be—and despite Qi’ra’s stories of her own experiences there—she smiled at the sight of it.

This wasn’t a Rebel mission. This was a personal mission. She wanted to meet the brother she’d only just discovered, but she hardly wanted to lead any enemies tracking her towards him unless necessary. So… Qi’ra was helping.

Anchorhead had no spaceport, so they aimed for Mos Eisley instead. The comm crackled with a hail. “Unidentified transport, please give your name and passenger details.”

Imperial. Whether it was the Imps or the Hutts who had a grip on the spaceport seemed to change with the winds.

Qi’ra replied; her voice wasn’t known for borderline treasonous speeches. “This is the personal ship Dragonstar, owned by myself, Rey Salli, and my wife Anna.”

“Your wife also bears the name Salli?”

“Yes.”

“What is your business on Tatooine?”

“Business and distant family calls. My, uh, second cousin once removed and his wife invited us over.”

They could hear the long sigh on the other end and knew he could not be bothered to verify that. “Cleared. Be prepared to provide evidence of identification upon entry.”

The comm clicked off. Leia cast a glance at Qi’ra. “The Empire are really pushing back, aren’t they?”

Qi’ra didn’t take her eyes off the viewport, and the spaceport growing larger in the scope. “Stay alert.”

They landed, and as they walked down the ramp Qi’ra took Leia’s hand. She jerked with surprise, but didn’t have to fake the smile she gave her.

Qi’ra, against her will, smiled back.

They approached the door to the bay. Stormtroopers patrolled beyond, in the spaceport proper, and Leia tried to show no unease. An officer came to meet them at the door. “Identification?”

Qi’ra handed it over. He scanned it, and found no faults. “Continue.”

Leia nodded and smiled. “Thank you.”

He didn’t even look at her before he marched away. Rude, but thank the stars for it.

They rented a speeder and were hunting for Anchorhead by the time the suns began their descent, their long fabric head coverings flapping behind them in the wind. Of course, that was about the time Leia realised they were being followed.

“Qi’ra,” she murmured, leaning perhaps a little too close to her in the pilot’s seat. But they were pretending to be married anyway, and there were eyes on them, so… “I think a bounty hunter is following us.”

Qi’ra tensed up and glanced in the speeder’s mirrors. There was indeed a dark shadow on the horizon—far enough away that it could have been a trick of the light. But Leia knew when she was being followed, and she knew this desert was barren enough that they wouldn’t run into anyone else if they weren’t being followed.

“We can’t lead them to your brother’s home, and it’s hard to lose someone when there’s such a large open space,” Qi’ra murmured. “We could try to outrun them.”

“Or, we have to fly through the Jundland Wastes to get there anyway,” Leia pointed out. “We could hide in the rocks, and lose them out there.”

“They’ll be after you, of course.”

“I’m not that important.”

“There’s only one of them, right?”

Leia squinted. She couldn’t see very well, but she was pretty sure—“Yes, there’s only one.”

“There you go. You’re not that important.”

Leia wasn’t sure whether to laugh or scowl. She settled on laughing. “Fly faster and we’ll lose them over there.”

Qi’ra hit the accelerator and they shot off even faster. Fast enough that the speeder shuddered like flimsi in the wind and Qi’ra looked tense as a tow cable, but Leia put a hand on her shoulder and she relaxed.

Qi’ra said, “We’re out of sight now, you know. Of them and the Imperials. We don’t need to pretend.”

Leia pulled back her hand and nodded. “You’re right. We don’t need to.”

Qi’ra winced. “Leia—”

“Keep flying. We’ve lost them, but I don’t trust that they won’t catch up again soon.”

She kept flying. Leia kept her hands in her lap, perfectly proper. They came up to the Wastes and flew between the great walls of the canyon, watching it crook up towards the sky in massive hunks of sandstone.

Qi’ra’s hand slipped on the controls, sweaty from the heat, and Leia caught it automatically. She didn’t miss Qi’ra’s intake of breath but also didn’t let the touch linger, withdrawing quickly.

!I’m glad you trusted me to come and meet your brother,” Qi’ra offered. “Even if I’m leaving soon.”

Leia felt herself shutter her heart, almost on instinct. “You’re a valuable asset—you’re reliable, discreet and professional.”

“Yes. Professional.”

“We would very much like you in a more permanent role, but until then—duck.”

“Duck?”

“Duck.” Leia grabbed Qi’ra’s shoulders and threw her back, the bolt aimed at her head barely missing it. The speeder dived to the side—a last minute manoeuvre stopped them hitting the rocks.

“Is that the bounty hunter!?”

“They must’ve known a shortcut.” Leia drew her blaster. “You fly.”

She scanned the sky—there. A few metres above them, where the canyon wall sank. A figure crouched with a sniper rifle, their back to the suns, but she thought she could take them out even with her eyes dazzled—

She fired off a volley of shots. They missed. She fired again.

Qi’ra shouted. The speeder swerved. Her aim struck true, the bounty hunter falling to the canyon floor, but Leia dived across the speeder to grab the controls and bring them to a halt as Qi’ra gasped and clutched her shoulder.

Leia grimaced.

That was… a lot of blood.

“Is he dead?” Qi’ra gritted out. Leia barely heard it at first, too busy yanking open the medkit for bacta and gauze.

“I said, is he dead.”

Leia peeled the ruined clothes back from the wound. It looked bad. “Yeah. He’s dead.”

Qi’ra relaxed.

Leia started cleaning the wound, gripping her hand and squeezing it when Qi’ra hissed. “I… can’t do too much for this here. We’ll have to wait til we get to the homestead. It’s not far.”

Qi’ra leaned against her as they switched seats, and Leia tried to ignore her own heartrate. “Was he after you?”

“I don’t know.”

“Check.”

Leia went to check. The bounty puck that stared back at her when she went through his things wasn’t what she expected.

“It’s for you,” she told Qi’ra when she returned. “From Crimson Dawn.”

Qi’ra peered at the bounty. “Not much there.”

“Better for staying alive.”

“I know. I’m insulted, but glad.”

They sat together, staring at it a little. Qi’ra was deadly still.

Leia put a hand on her good shoulder. “Lie back. I’ll make a bed. Then we’ll get to the homestead as fast as possible.” The sunset was tinting the world with colour now, and the shadows of Qi’ra’s delicate face were cast in red and gold.

Qi’ra studied her, suspicious of her tenderness, but eventually she consented to lie back, a slow sigh seeping out of her as she did.

Leia took the controls and flew on, keeping a close eye on her companion, until the sunset enveloped them both.

[raiseyourcups]

Cabur

Chapter Twelve

Pairing: Din Djarin x OFC (Aili Verdella) Warnings: not much, cursing maybe, Aili threatens people again but at least it’s not directed at Mando anymore? Word Count: 3.2k Also on AO3

Masterlist

Summary: Mando and Aili need credits and they need them now if they want to keep being at least five steps in front of any bounty hunters after them. Thankfully (or maybe not) Mando still has a contact with a group of mercs he used to work with back when he was young and stupid. There’s no way this can go wrong.

They were in the middle of space, Mando up in the cockpit and Aili down in the cargo hold trying to make sure she wasn’t seeing things. She counted once more, glanced over at their food supplies, and let out a deep sigh. She brought her hands up to her temples and tried to stop the growing headache she felt coming. She took one more moment to go over all the ways they were slowly becoming screwed in the middle of space. 

With one more long sigh, Aili pushed herself up from the floor, shoving her bag back against the wall with her foot. She headed up to the cockpit, knocking on the door just in case Mando had taken his helmet off even though Little Green was in there too. She knew a good amount about the Creed but she hadn’t cared to know all of the tiny details like if children who couldn’t speak counted or not.  

“We need credits,” Aili said bluntly as she walked into the room. That small nest egg she had saved for years was all but gone now. She had used some on Tatooine to fix the Crest and then she had bought their new comlinks for Life Day but she had used most of it to buy supplies. Mostly on food for Little Green who ate so much despite being so small. And she still had no idea how much Mando had saved before all of this but she was willing to bet it wasn’t enough to keep them flying for much longer. 

"I know,” Mando said before going back to being silent. 

"Okay well what are we going to do about it?" Aili questioned, sitting down onto her seat and spinning it to face Mando. “Because we can’t keep landing on random planets and hoping someone has a job. I also don’t want another concussion.”

Mando was quiet for a long time before he took in a deep breath and looked over at her. "I know where we can get a job."

"If it's back on Tatooine…" Aili trailed off. There were now multiple reasons why she never wanted to go back to that hellscape of a planet, Peli had been the only good thing there. The only place worse would be going somewhere like Jakku. 

"No, it's...I used to work with this group,” Mando hesitated again and Aili felt her eye twitch. 

"Mando, at this point, I wouldn't care if you used to be a spice runner. I used to be Imp property, remember? Nothing can be worse than that,” she said, giving him a stare that would have made him take a step back if he wasn’t sitting down. He looked back at her for a long moment before he finally turned to bring up a holocall. 

“Okay, I’ll make the call, they should have a job.”

“And it’ll pay well?” Aili asked, knowing that should be their top priority rather than a quick and easy job. As long as they didn’t have to go to Tatooine agan. 

“They always did.”

“Well now I’m intrigued,” Aili said, leaning forward just a little as Mando started the call. She stayed quiet as he spoke to someone who gave him coordinates for their space station. No details about the job, just a promise that there was one right up Mando’s alley and then the call was shut off. Mando locked in the coordinates, taking them into hyperspace right after and they were off.

“Looks like we’re leaving the middle of nowhere to go to the middle of nowhere,” Aili commented after she took a glance at the coordinates. Mando stayed quiet and Aili narrowed her eyes at that. She wasn’t sure what was so bad about these people when they were both bounty hunters and one of them used to work for the Empire. Not by choice but she still did their dirty work.

It didn’t take long for them to drop out of hyperspace and Aili let out a sound of quiet appreciation for the way the space station looked. It wasn’t what she was expecting but then she figured that it made sense, it wasn’t like the New Republic was really looking this far out so it was easier to get away with things like this. 

“Let me do the talking,” Mando said as soon as he landed the Crest in the hangar bay. 

Aili let out a loud laugh, the sound echoing throughout the cockpit. She didn’t get to see the way a small smile crossed Mando’s face at the sound of it before he forced it away. “That would imply that you would actually talk enough for the two of us.” 

“Just...please?” Mando asked, tone sounding almost like he was actually pleading for Aili to follow his lead. She was a little taken aback by it and blinked a few times before she nodded her head. 

“Okay, but if anyone insinuates anything, I’m throwing punches and you won’t be able to stop me.”

“Wouldn’t be a first for them.” 

Aili rolled her eyes before making sure that Little Green was asleep before moving him into the cot and shutting the hatch. She heard the hatch lock shut, Mando probably hitting the button on his vambrace to do so. She didn’t know what kind of people they were meeting with and as much as she hated leaving him alone on the ship, they didn’t have a choice this time. She just hoped he would stay asleep long enough for them to finish the job and be back before he knew they were gone. 

They got off the ship and immediately got stares, more pairs of eyes on Mando than on Aili but it was still unnerving. She wasn’t used to being the center of attention like that, usually sticking to the shadows while hunting a bounty. People didn't even stare at her back on the base, usually keeping their eyes on the floor when she walked down a hall.

“Mando,” a bearded man said, moving towards them. “Is that you under that bucket?”

“Ran.” Mando held a hand out which Ran took to shake. 

“Didn’t know if I’d ever see you out in these parts again,” Ran said before his eyes moved over to where Aili was standing beside Mando. “Good to see you and with a pretty little thing at your side too.”

Aili clenched her fists at her side as well as her jaw. She had promised to let Mando do the talking but Ran was already pushing his luck. From the corner of her eye she saw Mando tilt his helmet in her direction but she kept her mouth shut for once. Ran placed his hand on Mando’s shoulder, turning him so they could walk further into the hangar. Aili followed quietly, ignoring the stares they were still getting from the people doing repairs. 

“You know I was surprised when you reached out. You know, I, I hear things, like maybe things between you and the Guild aren’t workin’ out.” Ran said, with faux-concern. Aili wondered if Mando could tell as well but they needed a job no matter what. Even if she already didn’t like Ran. 

“We’ll be fine.” 

Ran looked at both of them for a long moment before he threw his arms out in a shrug. “Well, you know the policy. No questions. You’re welcome back here anytime.” 

He led them up to the catwalk above the hangar bay so no one could listen in on their conversation. Aili walked behind them, hating every second since it made her feel like she was below them. Mando finally spoke, “What’s the job?”

“One of our associates ran afoul of some competitors and got himself caught. Putting together a crew to spring him,” Ran explained before stopping halfway down the catwalk to look at Mando. “It’s a five person job, I have four. All I need is the ride and you brought it.”

“That wasn’t part of the deal,” both Aili and Mando said at the same time. Aili really didn’t want these people on the Crest where Little Green was. These were glorified mercs, they didn’t care about anything but where their next credits came from. Even if it was in the form of a small alien child. She wouldn’t trust them as far as she could throw them.

“The Crest is the only reason I let him come back, sweetheart.” 

Mando grabbed Aili by the arm before she could take more than a single half-step towards Ran. He had honestly been expecting it by this point, had been since Ran called her “a pretty little thing” almost as soon as they landed. He was just surprised that she had lasted this long. But they couldn’t afford for her to piss off Ran before the job.

“Feisty, that always was your taste, Mando. But back to the ship.” Ran got close to Mando. “That better be gratitude I see.”

He walked away from them, laughing and it took everything for Aili to not rip her arm out of Mando’s grasp and just shoot or even stab Ran. Instead she turned to Mando with a glare on her face. “This is not what we agreed to.”

“I know. We don’t have any other options.”

“So we just let mercs onto the Crest? With the Child?”

“They’re not mercs,” Mando said, shoulders tensing as he finally let go of Aili’s arm. He placed his hands on the railing, clenching the bar underneath. 

“No you didn’t want to call yourself one but they are,” Aili hissed out, gesturing towards where Ran walked off to. “And if they find out about the kid and his bounty, we’re fucked.”

“You heard Ran. No questions. It goes both ways.”

“Yeah well when has that ever stopped anyone?” Aili said as she turned to walk the way Ran had gone. Mando joined her a second later probably to make sure she didn’t blow the job for them. She’d be insulted if she wasn’t so angry now. She knew how badly they needed credits and she’d finish the job so they could get the hell out of there. 

Ran was waiting for them at the bottom of the stairs and he gestured for them to follow him. “Let me introduce you to someone.” 

He led them over to a bald man who was looking over something, Aili didn’t care enough to pay too much attention as she came to a stop beside Mando. She wanted as much distance between herself and Ran and it seemed Mando had the same idea as he made sure she was on his right side.. 

“Mayfeld.”

“Yeah?” Mayfeld said as he turned to face them with a bored expression on his face. 

“This is Mando, the guy I was telling you about. We used to do jobs way back when. And this is-” Ran trailed off gesturing for Aili to give her name.

“Thought you said no questions,” Aili said shortly, staring at a spot on the wall behind Mayfeld. 

“Kal’ika,” Mando said for her and Aili glanced up at him with a blank stare. That was the best he could come up with? Calling her the equivalent of ‘little blade’? She supposed it was better than giving her actual name though.

“This is the guy?” Mayfeld questioned before anyone could say anything else. 

“Yeah, well, we were all young and tryin’ to make a name for ourselves.” Ran laughed again, the sound now grating in Aili’s ears. He laughed too much. “Runnin’ with a Mandalorian though, that brought us some reputation.” 

“And what did he get out of it?” Mayfeld asked, propping a leg up on an empty crate looking at Mando with a minute amount of interest now. 

“I asked him that one time, and do you remember what you said, Mando? Target practice.”

Aili rolled her eyes as Ran burst out laughing once again and Mayfeld pretended to take a step back with his hands up in surrender. Children. She was stuck working a job with actual children that had blasters. 

“That was a long time ago.” She could hear the heat of embarrassment in his voice even past the modulator. That was what he got for being a hot-headed, probably 20-something, idiot who decided to run with mercs for quick credits. Not that she really had any room to talk but at least she hadn’t had a choice while he did. 

“You look familiar,” Mayfeld suddenly said, eyes narrowed as he looked at Aili. Trying to figure out why she looked like someone he had seen before.

“I just have one of those faces.” She was pretty sure would have remembered ever meeting a man like Mayfeld. Or maybe not, he wasn’t that interesting. 

Ran sobered up and looked at Mando. “Now listen, I don’t go out much anymore so Mayfeld is gonna be runnin’ point. If he says it, it’s like it’s comin’ from me. You good with that?”

“You tell me,” Mando stated, his t-visor facing Mayfeld straight on. Aili stared at the wall again, trying to keep her face clear of the annoyance she was now feeling. This was just going to be a great job if Mando and Mayfeld were already sizing each other up and they weren’t even on the way to the job yet. 

“You haven’t changed one bit,” Ran laughed out. “Aside from the new girl, lemme tell you someone will be upset about that one.”

“Yeah, well, things have changed around here.” Mayfeld said before turning to walk away from them. 

“See, Mayfeld here is one of the best triggermen I’ve ever seen. Former Imperial sharpshooter.”

Aili tensed from beside Mando, now she knew why Mayfeld probably thought she looked familiar. “That’s not saying much,” Mando said shortly, causing Aili to hit him below his pauldron without thinking about it. Doing that had almost become second nature to her when Mando said something stupid...which was often. She was lucky that she hadn’t accidentally hit the beskar yet.  

Mayfeld quickly turned back to glare at him. “I wasn’t a stormtrooper, wiseass.”

“Don’t take long, does it?” Ran said, laughing once more and leading them back down towards the hangar. Aili noticed they went in the opposite direction as Mayfeld probably because Mando had now pissed the man off. She was too distracted by the fact that now she would have to be careful to stay off Mayfeld’s radar if he was ex-Imperial. They met back up with Mayfeld in front of the Crest and Aili was back to keeping her face schooled into disinterest. 

“A Razor Crest? I’m surprised the thing can fly. Looks like a Canto Bight slot machine.”

If Aili wasn’t trying to keep herself quiet, she would have laughed because she didn’t necessarily disagree with Mayfeld. Even though she had grown to see the Crest as a sort-of second home, she still wished that she would have been able to drag Mando to her ship instead when they were back on Nevarro. She’d feel a little less on top of the Mandalorian every time she turned around. 

“The good-looking fellow with the horns, that’s Burg.” Aili looked over at the Devaronian and held back a cringe when he dropped the crate he was carrying. “This may surprise you but he’s our muscle.”

She stood still as Burg came close, getting up in Mando’s space before walking around the two of them to size Mando up. “So this is a Mandalorian? Thought they’d be bigger.” And then he walked off to go get more crates ready. 

Mayfeld continued as if nothing had happened making Aili think this was normal behavior for Burg. He pointed to a protocol droid, “Droid's name is Zero.”

Mando was tense at the thought of a droid on his ship but that was nothing compared to the dread at who else could be on the team. “I thought you said you had four.”

“He does.” A feminine voice spoke from behind them and both Aili and the Mandalorian turned to face it. One with curiosity and the other more stiffly. It was a Twi’lek with purple-tinged skin and Aili’s eyes narrowed in on the knife she was casually twirling. She subtly removed one of her own knives, keeping it hidden against her palm for now. 

“Hello Mando.” 

“Xi’an,” the Mandalorian said tersely, shoulders squared more than they had been before. With every introduction, Aili was getting more and more wary of this job and now it was at an all time high. In just under five words, she knew everything she needed to know about their past relationship and she already knew she didn’t want to be stuck in the middle but he was her ride.

“Tell me why I shouldn’t cut you down where you stand?” Xi’an asked before rushing forward, knife out, only to be blocked by Aili’s own knife. “Oh, and who is this? A new pet?”

“Do you like having lekku?” Aili asked, baring her teeth and keeping her knife out even as Xi’an moved away. She wasn’t even sure if she was threatening the Twi’lek for the knife she had held against Mando or calling her a “pet.” She was going to go with both for now. 

“Oh, it’s a loth-cat.” Xi’an laughed when Aili tensed up even more before looking at Mando up and down. “This is shiny. You wear it well.”

“Should we leave the room or something?” Mayfeld asked. “Tell me now but if there’s going to be a girl-fight…”

“Poor Xi’an’s been heartbroken ever since Mando left our group,” Ran said, the tone in his voice betraying what he really thought about the situation. A joke. Like everything else he had said so far in between bouts of being serious. 

Mayfeld placed his hands on his knees and leaned in a little towards Xi’an before speaking in a condescending tone, “Aww, you gonna be okay sweetheart? ‘Cause he’s obviously moved on.”

“Oh, I’m all business now. Learned from the best so you might want to watch out, loth-cat.” Xi’an pointed her knife at Aili with a smirk on her face before she laughed and walked away from them. 

Aili’s grip on her knife tightened until Mando placed a hand over her own. She looked up at him to see him shake his helmet slightly. She gritted her teeth before stiffly putting her knife away. 

“Alright, alright. We don’t have much time so if anyone is going to fight, do it on the ship,” Ran said, gesturing for everyone to get a move on.

Burg came back up to them, sizing Mando up again. “Tiny.” He looked down at Aili next. “Tinier.” He walked towards the rest of the crew, laughing loudly as he did.

“Your old crew is great, Mando. Really, so great.”

“What was it you said to Cara? Quick, quiet…”

“And hope nobody will notice. Here’s the problem though, they’ve already seen us,” Aili said as she looked up at Mando with a hard expression on her face. He tried not to take a step back when she made eye contact even through the t-visor and he wondered how she managed to do that so often.

[bestintheparsec]

Just You - (Din Djarin x reader)

Summary: @elisemb123​ suggested (a long time ago i’m so sorry) a Din x reader fic about “spicy awkward situations” -- I went off my own interpretation of that and I hope you like it! 

A/N: This is my first (actual) oneshot (please go easy on me)! The first of my “tropes” oneshots (without saying too much, this was based on the “zipper” trope)😏 This was more challenging to write because I’m so attached to ‘Healer’ but I hope that you enjoy it❤️ As always I appreciate any and all feedback! 

Words: 2.4k

Rating: T

~

“No,” Din snapped.

Greef had only looked towards you for one second before Din caught on, rejecting the idea. 

"But you can't go in there. At least, not without being conspicuous," Greef countered.

You and Din were a team. You'd never done any hunts without him, not in the last year since you'd joined him aboard the Razor Crest. Your quick minds were alike, which greatly helped on the job every time. But the pay hadn't been enough lately. You needed a higher stakes bounty, one that could provide for a while without either of you having to worry. 

This was currently the only job Greef could offer. The bounty was a shady, very rich, very powerful higher-up who was heavily guarded and rarely made public appearances. You would have one shot at him -- at a formal event on the planet Perinnion. You had looked at Greef with confusion when he'd told you. Perinnion was notorious for being one of the finest and richest planets in the outer rim. But a lot of it was all for show, a cover for the malicious businesses that frequently went on under the table there. It was definitely not the usual type of hunt.

They weren't accepting of anyone who didn't meet their shallow standards, so there was no way Din would get into some gala in his armor. Greef mentioned that disguises would have to be involved, and had looked over at you.

"She's not going alone," Din said firmly. He was sitting right next to you in the tight booth, and you could feel his shoulders tense up as he said it. You turned and looked into his visor at the same time he tilted his head to look at you. Despite everything, you felt your cheeks heat up. You broke eye contact before Greef could sense anything was off.

Din was your partner, in all ways but one. When you joined him, you simply needed a job and he needed the help. But in the time that you’d worked together, you started to feel something change in how you felt about him. You cared about him. That was completely normal, you'd told yourself time and again. But you couldn't help how sometimes you felt your heart flutter at the gentle way he spoke to you, on the rare occasions that he spoke at all. He was kind, though it was all kept hidden beneath the armor. He had a softness to him that you’d never known before. You would never tell him any of this, of course. He was strict to his code, and you would never do anything to jeopardize your present relationship with him. The fleeting thoughts of him were enough to keep you warm, and it would have to be enough.

“Yeah, I don’t know, Greef --” you said. 

“Perhaps their ideals are different, but this is probably one of the least dangerous situations you could put yourself in for a hunt,” Greef continued. “Surely you can handle a bit of arrogance.”

“It’s not that -- I’ve heard stories of how these events are always swarming with undercover New Republic guards, on the lookout for trouble. I doubt they’ll take well to people like us being around,” you added.

“To get that man, she’s going to have to raise hell in there. As soon as she causes any alarm, the bodyguards and the Imps will be on her. You really want to let her go in there alone?” Din criticized.

Greef was getting impatient. “Then you’ll have to prepare well, Y/N. And you don’t have to be alone. You can lure him out -- talk intriguing business schemes with him. Then you and Mando capture him once he’s out and vulnerable.”

You both seemed to ease up just a bit, mentally running through the plan as you looked at each other.

“What do you think?” Din asked you, quietly. “We don’t have to take the job. Not if you don’t feel safe.”

You looked away, thinking of all the times Din had thrown himself headfirst into danger on behalf of you or the child, completely disregarding his own safety despite your protests. It was hardly a big deal for you to socialize with some conceited 'royals’ for a job that would keep all of you worry-free for months.

“You mentioned a disguise,” you said after a moment. “Where exactly am I supposed to find one that remotely parallels the Perinnion formal wear?”

Greef smiled, as if he’d known you would agree all along. “I have connections with someone there. I’ll give you instructions to find her. Her name is Kas, and you can trust her with the details of the mission. She’ll be more than willing to help.”

You nodded and both stood up to leave. Din took the puck and tracking fob, exhaling quietly as he walked behind you toward the door.

From his constant composure you would’ve never been able to tell -- he didn’t even realize it himself, but lately something about you made him start to soften, and he had no idea what it was or what to do about it. He’d never worried for any of his past workmates like this -- it was work, that was it. He rarely even liked his team members, let alone care about them. The kid had been on his watch for a long time, but he’d never known the feeling of being protective of anyone the way he was with you -- as if keeping you out of harm’s way meant he was protecting himself from what he would feel if anything happened to you. He often shook his head at himself, trying to find something else to occupy his thoughts, trying to ignore the way the curious look in your eyes made him feel something he was unfamiliar with.

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

Kas was an older, maybe middle-aged woman. She had lines around her eyes, which were hardened yet still kind. You could tell she had plenty of experience in dealing with all the sketchy transactions that went on. She quickly showed you that she not only distrusted the people Greef had bounty pucks on, but that she would also willingly help you take them down.

She had been ready for you at her home as soon as you landed on Perinnion, providing helpful details regarding the night’s event --  exit plans, topics that would be of interest, and of course, your disguise. Din stayed on the Crest for a while, preparing the weapons while you went inside with Kas.

You looked down at yourself as she helped you step into the sturdy dress. She wouldn't tell you where it came from, but somehow it fit you well enough. There wasn’t a way to describe the ensemble as anything but beautiful. The dress’s skirt was made of a thick, emerald-colored satin fabric that fell in full waves smoothly to the floor. The bodice stopped just above the waist and was daintily adorned with small but intricate, understated golden jewel embellishments that completely covered the black lining underneath. It was sleeveless, save for two thick bands of black ribbon that wrapped over your shoulders to hold the whole thing up. To finish it off, she tied a matching black ribbon around the waist, letting the long ends drape softly in front of you.

“Is the slit necessary?” you muttered, wondering how practical all of this was for the mission. The skirt completely encircled you, but on one side there was a slit that went up a little past your knees. It was subtle, your leg only revealed if you wanted it to be. 

“In every way, my dear,” she grinned at you, holding out a thigh holster and your blaster, gesturing to your leg as she moved part of the skirt aside to show you. “It provides easy access to your weapons. And, should you need to run, it allows you to do so without restriction.” 

You nodded and sighed, taking them from her hands and securing them to your leg.

“Thank you,” you said. 

Kas patted your shoulder. “I’ll be right back,” she said as she left you to yourself. She gave you a wink, making you wrinkle your brows in confusion.

You looked at yourself in the tall mirror. You had insisted on leaving your hair plain, down and held in place with a few pins, allowing just a few loose strands to fall around your face.

It was quite a bit different than what you usually wore -- black tight-fitted pants and maybe some sort of dark-colored jacket overtop whatever shirt you could find. Needless to say, anything this luxurious was not what you were used to. The fact that you were essentially going into combat mode like this made you feel even more disoriented.

Din's voice appeared before he did. “We should go over the plan again --” he said casually as he entered the room, abruptly stopping in his tracks when he saw you. 

“Oh, I --” you instinctively moved to cover yourself, though you were fully dressed and ready to go in public like this.

“Sorry,” he said immediately, looking down and turning to leave. “I -- I didn’t know you were --” he stammered.

“No, wait. It’s okay, Din,” you said reassuringly, calling him back. “I’m...done. I don’t know where Kas went off to.” Your hands awkwardly smoothed out the fullness of the dress skirt. You glanced at the floor before looking back up at him.

Even in his mind, Din couldn't find any words to say. The few seconds of uncomfortable silence may as well have been hours. He thought of how you both tended to look -- skin and clothes covered in dirt and dust, sometimes even blood. For most of his life, all he’d ever seen was damage and destruction. It was a stark contrast to how you looked standing in front of him right now. He felt like he wasn’t meant to see anything so intimate and....breathtaking. Din glanced away, trying to avert his eyes under the helmet and quell the reddening of his cheeks even though you couldn’t see him. But he couldn’t resist, eventually tilting his head back up as you met his gaze through the visor. You were looking at him with that soft expression again, leaving him completely flustered.

You held your arms firmly against your side. The dress was snug and it wasn’t going to go anywhere, but you suddenly felt fidgety. You caught a glimpse of the back of the dress in the mirror and saw that Kas had left before finishing the look. That sneaky woman, you thought, shaking your head.

"She didn’t -- Can you... help me with the back?" You asked in a softer voice, awkwardly moving towards him. You were suddenly very aware of how much air your leg was getting. The strings lacing up the back of the bodice were more for decoration than fit, but you weren't able to tie up the elaborate backing yourself. He nodded just slightly and you turned your back to him.

Din felt uneasy, hesitating for a few moments before reaching down to the ribbon around your waist. He carefully tied it as best as he could, gloved fingers occasionally brushing lightly against your covered back. He could hardly concentrate on the immediate task at hand. You looked down at the floor, wondering if he could sense your nerves -- though your quickened pulse had nothing to do with the job tonight.

"Thanks," you said quietly when he moved his hands away, turning to face him. You tried to keep your heart rate steady. When was the last time physical contact made you feel like that? You thought. You really needed to get it together.

He fixed his gaze on you, and neither of you said a word. Din felt his heart go soft as he looked into your eyes, which now held an expression he couldn't quite figure out. There was a lot at stake tonight, but you appeared ready. The tension in your composure was opposite to how you looked; elegant, like the calm before the storm. He was relieved you couldn’t see his face right now; he kept glancing around elsewhere in the room, a nervous tic you were unaware of. Out of nowhere, Din felt overcome by the need to gently wrap his arms around your waist as he imagined the feel of the smooth fabric of your dress against his hands. He didn’t say anything, not wanting a tremor in his voice to reveal him. What had gotten into him? He thought to himself. He felt his heart constrict as he felt himself realize what he couldn’t possibly say aloud.

You suddenly cleared your throat, breaking his train of thought. “Well, we better get going. I think Kas had some last minute plans to share,” you said.

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

You stood hidden in the trees in the stakeout spot. You were both checking your weapons one more time before leaving to get inside the event, alone.

“This should be fun,” you grinned up at him. “For once the bounty won’t immediately try to kill me. We’re probably going to have to take out the guards, though.”

He didn't respond for a few moments. “I don’t care what happens to them,” he said. “Just you.”

Was it just you, or did he seem extra on-edge about this mission?  “Just me?” you let out a nervous laugh before noticing how he seemed more serious than usual.

Din said nothing, only responding with a nod.

“I’ll be alright,” you said softly. “We’ll be in and out.”

He was still looking at you, not answering. Your hands were down at your side -- you tried to occupy them by patting your dress, rechecking for your weapons as if you hadn't just checked a minute ago. 

Another moment passed before he slowly reached down and gently took your hand in his.  You looked up at him, the gesture unexpected but not unwelcome. The rough leather of his gloves traced your skin with light pressure, ever-so-briefly before he let go.

You smoothed out your dress again before you gave him a reassuring smile. You turned and started walking towards the venue, cheeks flushing as you hoped your knees wouldn’t give out beneath you.

~

Tags (separate from Healer): @aeryntheofficial​ @immundusspiritu​ @i-like-those-odds​ @heyy-honeyy​ @hiscyarika​ @taman-a​ @electricprincess888​ @jensfolly​ @spacegayofficial​ @myrin1234​ @aloneontheoutside​ 

[mainstream-deviant]

Deathshipping Week - Day 3!

@deathshippingweek

Day 3: Supernatural/Horror

Length: A "long" one (1550ish), below the cut or here on A03 YM name-of-the-day: He doesn't need one >:D Tags: horror, unspecified magic/supernatural AU, unspecified monsters, nonhuman characters, minor cw: blood and injury, being hunted [please tell me if there are tags I should add]

*******

Plink.

Plink.

Plink.

The droplets were steady. They whisked themselves away in little strings and splashes of colour in the rainwater that was running in rivulets down the gutters.

Plink.

Plink.

They were kind of pretty, in a way. The patterns swirled and danced like clouds set on high-speed, inviting the imagination to see pictures in the dance of the droplets.

Plink.

Of course, beautiful or not, it’s generally preferable to keep your blood on the inside. Shame, that.

Plink.

Ryou put a hand up to staunch the flow of blood from his temple. Now was not the time for distractions - he had other things to do. He forced himself back up off his knees despite the ankle that screamed in protest, and stumbled further down the alleyway, straining his ears to catch the sounds of anything other than the driving rain.

When he’d arrived in this little town, the first thing he’d been told was that only the brave venture to the eastern edge of town, and that only fools venture there at night. The fear of the shadows that prowled the village’s edge ran deep. It had been months since the first disappearance, and the numbers continued to grow. Now, no one would even visit there, except in dire need, in the bright of day, and with trustworthy company at their back, for fear they may never return otherwise.

That probably meant that only an absolute madman would wander into these lanes in the dark of night, in the thick of a hard, steady rain, and without telling a soul before leaving. So naturally, that is precisely what Ryou had done. After all, what this village so clearly and desperately needed was a bit of a madman. And Ryou had become rather enamoured with this little pocket of the world, so he had been more than happy to provide them with one.

He huffed and slumped back to the ground in a soggy corner to catch his breath, hand still pressed to his temple. The rain masked everything; he couldn’t hear where his adversary was, no matter how he strained. When he had set out to find out what was terrorizing the locals, he’d expected an overpowered poltergeist. Maybe a stray imp or two, bent on mean-spirited practical jokes. Nothing exciting. Probably nothing even worth his time. He’d never have expected –

The subtle scrape of a talon gave him just a fraction of a second’s warning to whirl aside before a clawed hand landed where his head had been a moment before with a resounding crack. He backpedalled hard, scrambling around the corner and out of sight. He had to use both hands to steady himself in the tight turn, and the cut on his temple resumed sluggishly painting his face in red.

“Now now, beautiful, no need to run.” There was a deep rumbling noise that may have been more of a chuckle than a growl. “We can have such fun together.”

Ryou could hear the beast following him, leisurely and confident. “Maybe so.” He took a splashing step further down the lane. “But not until you put away the claws, cutie.” With that, Ryou ducked into the abandoned warehouse he’d been circling as quietly as he could manage, eyes darting around for cover. There was a loft, but he doubted his ankle could get him to the ladder fast enough in an open dash. Damn.

That elicited a distinct bark of laughter. “You make delightful prey. Such a shame it will need to end.”

With that, the creature went silent. The sound of the rain was muffled by the walls, leaving the building silent and still. But the prickling in the back of Ryou’s neck told him he’d been followed as surely as the sound of a sweeping tail on dusty floors would have. He edged along the wall in the vague direction of the ladder, keeping cover behind stray crates as table as best as he could.

It was only years of practice that let him hold in the curse when his foot hit a stray metal pipe. He tensed into a crouch against the wall as the loud clatter rang throughout the building. Shit. He strained his eyes and ears to the limit, desperately hoping to figure out from which direction the beast would come. It was too soon for this to be the end. His eyes darted left and right, frantic for a sign.

The creature slammed to the top of the table in front of him, cackling wildly as Ryou made a desperate lunge to the side. It caught hold of his ankle, wrenching him backwards and laughing delightedly as Ryou yelped and scrambled to his back.

“Hello there, beautiful.”

Ryou felt the soft drag of a long tongue along his bloody cheek, and wrenched his good leg up to kick at the beast’s midsection with every ounce of his strength. He heard a disgruntled huff as the creature’s weight shifted under the force of his kicks, and he took the opportunity to wrench himself free and scramble away. He bolted full tilt toward a stack of boxes, which he brought down on his pursuer to buy himself a precious second or two to scramble for cover.

He held his breath steady by sheer force of will as he heard one last, low rumble of laughter before the world fell silent again. Too close. Too soon. He glanced to the side, and saw that at least the encounter had moved him closer to the ladder. Maybe, if he could get up it fast enough, there would be a corner of the loft too tight for the beast to pursue him. In any event, he was damn sure that staying here to be caught like a helpless lost lamb wasn’t the best option.

The rain hissed, and his breath calmed, and the world stayed silent. Ryou strained his ears, hoping to catch even the faintest clue of where the creature was hunting. If this was going to have a hope of working, the beast needed to be as far away as possible before he threw himself on the ladder. He counted his breaths and waited.

Nothing.

He eyed the ladder, temptingly close. He closed his eyes to try to centre himself when he heard it. The faintest of thumps, from the far wall. His eyes snapped open.

This was it.

He sprang to his feet and made a lunge for the ladder. There was little point in trying to be silent; the ladder was in full view and let out a loud screech of metal on metal as he grabbed it anyways. The stabbing pain in his ankle faded into the background as he counted the rungs; two, three…

He screamed as he was ripped won from his perch, his ankle making a sickening pop as it slammed to the ground. He stumbled as he tried to make an escape, and felt a clawed hand clamp on his arm and whirl him around, slamming him back against the ladder with a loud clang. Flashes of light burst in his vision as the back of his skull connected with a rung. He tried to kick out with his good leg, but a strong hand pinned it down. When he struck out with his hands, they were quickly caught up in the creature’s claws and wrenched above his head. He struggled, but the hold only tightened. A whimper escaped him, and a trickle of blood ran down his arm from where a claw had nicked a vein during his struggles.

He fell still and looked up through the blood in his gaze as the creature stepped forward, pinning him to his last means of escape.

Shining golden eyes bore into him and hot breath fanned across his face from behind pointed teeth. The creature’s bright, sunbeam hair seemed to quiver with his delight at finally cornering his prey.

“And now I’ve caught you, beautiful.” A long, forked tongue flicked over the blood running from Ryou’s temple, and the beast's claws flexed around his wrists and leg, which screamed in protest as a claw dug beneath the skin. The beast trembled with delight and a wide, manic grin spread over its face. “You’re mine to enjoy as I please.”

Ryou huffed out a last gasp of panicked air before closing his eyes with a grimace and drawing in one slow, steadying breath. He relaxed fully into the hold, settling back against the steel at his back. Now, it was time. When he opened his eyes to meet his hunter’s gaze once more, they flashed.

“You sure about that, cutie?” Ryou didn’t bother giving the creature time to appreciate its mistake before lunging forward so his fangs could draw out the first delightful mouthful of blood, sweet with the tang of adrenaline from the hunt. He wrenched an arm free and clamped a hand over the beast’s mouth to muffle the inhuman yelp. It wouldn’t do to scare the poor townsfolk any more, after all.

He forced the creature’s head back and gave the neck an affectionate nuzzle to quiet its struggles, before leaning back in to drink more of his prize with a satisfied hum. Mmm. Maybe he’d keep this one. The hunt had been delightful, after all.

[spn-safeandsound]

02. Saving the Day

Safe and Sound

Dean Winchester x Original Character

Episode: 1x02; Wendigo

Word Count: 8,436

Warning(s): Mature language, canon violence and gore

Author’s Note: I hope you enjoy! Reblog and like!

Masterlist in Profile Description!

"Dean, please."

"Nope."

"I'll do anything."

"No fucking way, Junior."

"Oh, Dean, come on!" Julia whined, falling back against her seat. "Just one song. You'll like it, I swear."

"I'm not listening to Mariah Carey or Carrie Underwear," Dean scowled at her in the rearview mirror.

"Well, I don't even like country, so..." she shook her head. "And I think you would like Fall Out Boy."

"I think I wouldn't," Dean retorted.

"What about Elton John?" Julia raised her eyebrows at him. "He has older music. My mom loved him."

Dean's face visibly softened when she spoke about her mother. He knew she missed her, especially since the fourth anniversary of her death was coming up. He didn't blame her. Naomi Petersen was a great lady and had treated him and Sam as her own, even though she already had four children to take care of. He could still remember the taste of her famous peach cobbler. He wasn't usually a cobbler man, either, but he couldn't turn down Naomi's food.

"Fine," he gave in reluctantly; Elton John wasn't that bad anyway. "but only one."

The smile that Julia gave him was worth more than one song but he kept quiet, not wanting to give away complete control of his music. If Julia knew that flashing a smile would get her whatever she wanted from him—like it did for the rest of the world—he was done for.

Julia dug her cassette jack that she bought at the last gas station out of her bag and practically climbed over the front seat. She was careful not to hit a sleeping Sam because he really needed the rest; he hadn't been sleeping much since Jess and she spent most of the nights they shared motel rooms making sure he was okay.

She set up the jack and plugged in her iPod, turning it to her mom's favorite song.

Blue jean baby, L.A. lady, seamstress for the band...

Julia let out a relaxed sigh as she practically melted back into her seat. She smiled softly as she listened to the lyrics, remembering all the times her mom sang this song to her while she was growing up.

Her mom had been a dancer for years in her childhood and well into her adulthood. That was how her parents met, actually. When she was in college, her mom was in a recital that her dad coincidentally went to during one of his earlier hunts. He used to tell Julia that he was mesmerized by her mother and that she really was his tiny dancer.

Hold me closer, tiny dancer...

Dean appreciated the silence that fell over Julia because it seemed like she was always talking. And she was actually staying still, a stark contrast to her chronic fidgeting that drove Sam nuts. What he appreciated more than that was the small and contented smile on her face. It seemed like it was the first time he saw that smile in days; she had been grieving Jess, too, and trying to take care of Sam at the same time.

Despite being two years younger than his little brother, she had always been one of his caretakers.

You had a busy day today...

Dean let her bask in the last few notes of the song and then unplugged the jack, passing it back to her without a word. Julia was just as silent as she took it from him, her lips turning up at the corners when he popped in one of his cassettes.

Sam awoke with a start as the drum beat kicked in. Dean gave him a hesitant look as Julia leaned forward worriedly.

"You okay?" she asked him, trying not to hover as much as she had been the last few days.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Sam answered groggily, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Another nightmare?" it was Dean who asked this time.

Sam cleared his throat loudly, refusing to answer.

"You wanna drive for a while?" Dean offered.

Sam laughed in amazement. "Dean, your whole life you never once asked me that."

"Just thought you might want to," Dean shrugged casually. "Never mind."

Sam looked between Dean and Julia; he could easily read the worried look on Julia's face but Dean's was a little bit harder to decipher. "Look, guys, you're worried about me," he acknowledged. "I get and thank you, but I'm perfectly okay."

Dean hummed doubtfully. Sam looked back at Julia for her reaction but she just smiled sweetly and looked over to Dean, changing the subject as a distraction for Sam.

"You know, I can drive—"

"I don't think so, Julia," Dean cut her off, causing her to pout at him.

"All right," Sam chuckled and looked back at her. "where are we?"

"Um..." she looked at the handheld GPS that she was in charge of while Sam slept and found where they were. "we are just outside of Grand Junction."

Sam sighed and grabbed the GPS so he could look at the location of the coordinates John gave them. "You know what, maybe we shouldn't have left Stanford so soon."

Dean blinked slowly; Sam always got so depressed when he brought up what happened to Jessica and it was starting to worry him. "Sam, we dug around there for a week and we came up with nothing. If you wanna find the thing that killed Jessica—"

"We gotta find Dad first," Sam finished, having already heard this speech before.

"Dad disappearing and this thing showing up again after twenty years, it's no coincidence," Dean theorized. "Dad will have answers. He'll know what to do."

Sam shook his head and focused on the device in his hands. "It's weird, man," he changed the subject and studied the map. "these coordinates he left us, this Blackwater Ridge..."

"What about it?" Julia spoke up, leaning her chin on the front seat.

"There's nothing there," he informed her and Dean. "It's just woods. Why is he sending us to the middle of nowhere?"

Dean didn't answer as they drove into the town of Lost Creek. They headed straight to the ranger's station so they could look at a 3-D model of the area around Blackwater Ridge.

"So, Blackwater Ridge is pretty remote," Sam sighed as he pointed at the location on the model. "It's cut off by these canyons here. Rough terrain, dense forest, abandoned silver and gold mines all over the place."

Though Julia was listening curiously, Dean wasn't paying an ounce of attention. His focus was on the huge taxidermized grizzly bear on display.

"Dude, check out the size of this fucking bear!"

Julia smiled at his childlike amazement and added, "And I'm guessing a couple of grizzlies?"

"A dozen or so," Sam confirmed with a grin as they walked over to stand by Dean. "It's no nature hike, that's for sure."

"You three aren't planning on going out near Blackwater Ridge by any chance?" a ranger walked up to them, narrowing his eyes.

"Oh, no, sir," Sam assured him politely. "we're environmental study majors from UC Boulder. We're just working on a paper."

"Recycle, man," Dean held up a supportive fist.

"Bull," the ranger called them out, his eyes flitting to each one of them. "you're friends with that Haley girl, right?"

"Actually, we are," Julia played along, sending him a sweet smile. "Ranger Wilkinson."

The older man looked charmed by her, though not in a way that she considered sexual. Maybe he was just fond of a kind soul now or then.

"Well," Ranger Wilkinson's voice was considerably nicer, causing Sam and Dean to exchange impressed looks. "I will tell you exactly what I told her. Her brother filled out a backcountry permit saying her wouldn't be back from Blackwater Ridge until the twenty-fourth."

Julia nodded understandingly.

"It's not exactly a missing-persons, is it?" Ranger Wilkinson asked rhetorically. "You tell that girl to quit worrying. I'm sure her brother's just fine."

"We will," Dean promised with a smirk. "Well, that Haley girl's quite a pistol, huh?"

The ranger nodded in agreement, grabbing his coffee mug off the large front desk. "That is putting it mildly."

"Actually, you know what would help is if I could show her a copy of that backcountry permit," Dean said casually. "You know, so she could see her brother's return date."

"I'm sure that will calm her down," Julia added.

Dean had to admit it was nice having a pretty girl around to convince people to cooperate with them. Ranger Wilkinson melted at the pleading look Julia sent him and quickly copied the backcountry permit so they could take it to Haley. He gave it to her with a smile and a fond goodbye as they left the station.

"What, are you cruising for a hookup or something?" Sam asked Dean as they walked to the Impala.

Dean gave him a confused look. "What do you mean?"

"The coordinates point to Blackwater Ridge," Sam pointed out. "so what are we waiting for? Let's just go find Dad. I mean, why even talk to this girl?"

"I don't know, maybe we should know what we're walking into before we actually walk into it?" Dean said obviously. He gave his brother that had Sam stiffening in irritation.

"What?"

"Since when are you all shoot-first-ask-questions-later, anyway?"

"Since now," Sam's voice went flat.

Dean gave Sam an unimpressed look as he got into the car but before he open his mouth to speak again, Julia cut him off. Sam was delicate right now, no matter how tough he acted, and his emotions were all over the place. She didn't need the brothers to have a big blowout right now.

Dean sighed and got into the car. An hour later—after Dean stopped to make a fake ranger ID—they were knocking on the door of the address they got from Tommy Collins' backcountry permit.

The door opened and a pretty brunette a couple inches taller than Julia greeted them.

"You must be Haley Collins," Dean grinned at her. "I'm Dean and this is Sam and Julia. We're, uh, rangers with the Park Service. Ranger Wilkinson sent us over. We wanted to ask a few questions about your brother, Tommy."

Haley pressed her lips together as she looked them over. "Let me see some ID."

Dean pulled the fresh ID out of his wallet and presented it to her with a smile. Haley quickly looked it over and opened the screen door to let them into the house.

"Come on in," her eyes swept past Dean and locked on the Impala. "That yours?"

Dean nodded. "Yeah."

"Nice car," she said, impressed. She walked away from the door, leading them through the front room to the dining room. Julia and Sam exchanged eye rolls as Dean gave them a salacious grin, his eyes trailing to Haley's back.

There was a younger kid sitting at the table when they entered the dining room, frowning down at his placemat as he waited for his dinner to be served. He looked up when he heard their arrival and Julia smiled at him in greeting but his eyes quickly avoided her.

"So, if Tommy's not due back for a while, how do you know something's wrong?" Sam asked Haley as she walked into the kitchen and grabbed a hot serving bowl.

"He checks in everyday by cell," Haley brought the bowl to the table. "He emails photos and stupid little videos. We haven't heard anything in over three days now."

"Maybe he can't get cell reception?" Julia suggested.

Haley shook her head. "He's got a satellite phone, too."

"Could it be he's just having fun and forgot to check in?"

The kid, Ben, looked up in offense at Dean's comment. "He wouldn't do that!"

Ben, who sounded much older than he looked, looked down, ashamed at his outburst. Julia gave him a reassuring smile, hoping that he wasn't feeling uncomfortable in his own home because of them.

"Our parents are gone," Haley informed the three of them. "It's just my two brothers and me. We all keep pretty close tabs on each other."

Julia knew a little of what that was like. Despite her dad being alive, he didn't check in with his children much. So, Julia, her brother, and her sisters all made sure they were okay in the meantime. Levi, the oldest twin and only son, always made sure they were all safe. Bethany, the oldest sister, mothered over Julia and Abby like it was her job. Abby, the middle child and previously the only hunter of the siblings, checked in to make sure everyone was keeping up on their self-defense and protective charms. And Julia did all of the above, just making sure that her siblings knew that she loved them more than anything. They didn't always get along but they were family—who didn't argue with their siblings?

From the look in Dean's eye, Julia knew that he could relate to Haley, too.

Sam nodded understandingly. "Can I see the pictures he sent you?"

"Yeah," Haley pulled out her laptop and pulled up the most recent video that her brother sent. A man a few years older than Haley with the same dark hair as his younger siblings flashed onto the screen. "That's Tommy."

"Hey, Haley," the video played. "Day six. We're still out near Blackwater Ridge. We're fine, keeping safe, so don't worry, okay? Talk to you tomorrow."

Julia caught Sam making an intrigued face and wondered what he saw on the video that she or the others hadn't.

"Well, we'll find your brother," Dean assured Haley. "We're heading out to Blackwater Ridge first thing."

"Then maybe I'll see you there," Haley replied; she saw the look of confusion Dean gave her. "Look, I can't sit around here anymore, so, I hired a guide. I'm heading out in the morning and I'm gonna find Tommy myself."

"I think I know how you feel," Dean stated seriously.

"Hey," Sam interrupted the intense eye staring going on between Dean and Haley, gesturing toward the laptop. "do you mind forwarding these to me?"

"Sure," Haley agreed easily.

-

The bar they sat in for a late dinner was loud and filled with local college kids on Thanksgiving break. Julia was used to the loud scenery of college bars, though, being a college kid herself, and she had to admit the burgers she and Dean ordered were good. She was just paranoid that someone would catch on to the fact that she was underage—her fake was great but she was always worried every time she walked into a bar.

She didn't drink anything alcoholic just in case. She spent most of her time learning how to research the meticulous way that Sam likes it to be done, both of them searching for any local history of mysterious disappearances having to do with Blackwater Ridge.

"So, Blackwater Ridge doesn't get a lot of traffic," Sam told Dean as he sat down with a fresh beer. "Local campers, mostly. Still, this past April, two hikers went missing out there. They were never found."

"Any before that?" Dean asked as Sam opened John's journal.

Julia cleared her throat, looking down at the local newspapers they had collected. "Yeah, in 1982, eight different people all vanished in the same year. The rangers said it was a grizzly attack."

She slid a newspaper over to Dean, the headline reading, UP TO EIGHT HIKERS VANISH IN LOST CREEK AREA. HIKER'S DISAPPEARANCE BAFFLE AUTHORITIES.

"And again in 1959 and again, before that in 1936," she finished. "Every twenty-three years this happens."

"Like clockwork," Sam commented, opening his laptop now. He moved it so Dean and Julia could see. "Okay, watch this. Here's the clincher. I downloaded that guy, Tommy's, video to the laptop. Check this out."

There was a video on the screen. Sam pressed play, showing a slowed-down version of Tommy's video. Julia's eyes widened in surprise when she saw a shadow move behind the missing man.

Dean blinked. "Do it again."

Sam played the frames again. "That's three frames," he told them. "That's a fraction of a second. Whatever that thing is, it can move."

Dean excitedly hit Sam in the shoulder, a know-it-all expression on his face. "I told you something weird was going on."

Sam nodded in agreement, only looking a little annoyed by Dean's smugness.

"One more thing," Julia spoke up. "In fifty-nine, one camper survived this supposed grizzly attack. It was a kid and he barely made it out alive."

Dean raised one eyebrow. "Is there a name?"

Julia smirked and passed him the newspaper.

-

The next morning, Julia, Dean, and Sam set out to find Haley and Ben before they could go up to Blackwater Ridge on their own. They carried multiple weapons because they weren't exactly sure what they were going up against.

The night before, after leaving the bar, they questioned the witness that Julia discovered. He was an old man now but his memory of the night his parents were killed by whatever was out there was still fresh in his mind. The bear—or what the rangers were calling a bear, anyway—had unlocked the cabin the man was staying at, slaughtering his parents while he was asleep. Dean thought that the creature might be a skinwalker or a black dog but he and Sam both agreed that whatever it was, it was corporeal.

Sam wasn't happy about their babysitting job but Dean wouldn't hear about leaving Haley and Ben to fend for themselves. He was adamant that they continue like any other case while Sam was just gunning to find his dad. Julia, on the other hand, went with the flow, not wanting to get in the middle of one of their notorious arguments.

Dean pulled the Impala up to the trail entrance where Haley, Ben, and an older man were talking. They got out of the car, Julia being the only one actually prepared for a long hike.

"You guys got room for three more?" Dean asked Haley as he locked his car.

"Wait, you want to come with us?" Haley said skeptically.

"Who are these guys?" the older man looked the three of them over with disdain—especially the duffle bag that Sam was carrying over his shoulder.

"Apparently, this is all the park service could muster up for the search and rescue," Haley informed him.

The man raised his eyebrows. "You're rangers?"

"That's right," Dean said confidently.

"And you're hiking out in biker boots and jeans?"

Julia smirked, having had the same argument with Sam and Dean before they left their motel room, and passed by her to stand with Sam. "I told him the same thing."

"I don't do shorts!" Dean called after her.

The man didn't look impressed with Dean's cocky tone. "Oh, you think this is funny? It's dangerous backcountry out there. Her brother might be hurt."

Julia turned back to Dean, begging him with her eyes not to lose his temper on the naïve man.

"Believe me, I know how dangerous this could get," Dean stated firmly. "We just wanna help her find her brother, that's all."

The group of them started up the trail, all six of them walking in a single-file line. Roy—the older man—led them with Haley and Dean in front, Julia and Ben in the middle, and Sam bringing up the rear.

As they hiked, Julia shared some of her trail mix with Ben, who was turning out to be a sweet kid. He didn't talk much—he was clearly very worried about his older brother—but he spoke with her a little about how his freshman year of high school was going.

"Roy," Dean spoke up about two hours into the hike. "you said you did a little hunting."

"Yeah," Roy answered reluctantly, clearly not wanting to talk to the younger man. "more than a little."

"Uh-huh," Dean wasn't bothered by the man's grumpiness. "What kind of furry critters do you hunt?"

"Mostly buck, sometimes bear."

Dean sped up, passing Roy in line. "Tell me, did Bambi or Yogi ever hunt you back?"

Roy didn't answer as he reached forward, grabbing the back of Dean's jacket to stop him from continuing. Julia and Sam stiffened, ready to intervene in case the men got a little violent.

"Whatcha doing, Roy?" Dean asked warningly.

Roy let go of his jacket and bent down, picking a stick up off the forest floor. He held it down to the ground, where there was a freaking bear trap, and pressed the stick into it. It popped up, chopping the stick in half.

Julia's eyes widened; Dean was about to step in that!

"You should watch where you're stepping, Ranger," Roy advised Dean with a knowing smirk.

Dean pressed his lips together and clenched his jaw as Roy walked past him, looking back at the others. "It's a bear trap," he informed them needlessly.

"Yeah," Julia rolled her eyes to hide her worry. "We noticed."

As they hiked on, Haley confronted Dean, severely annoyed, "You didn't pack any provisions. You guys are carrying a duffle bag," she pointed out, grabbing Dean's arm to stop him. "So, who the hell are you?"

Julia didn't envy Dean, who now had to explain to Haley what they were actually doing out here. She smirked at him as she and Ben passed him and Haley. Sam paused a little but when Dean nodded at him to go on, he continued and caught up to Julia and Ben.

"You don't eat the M&Ms first?" Ben asked Julia curiously as she continued munching on her trail mix. "That's what I do."

"Well," Julia handed him a couple of M&Ms, which he threw in his mouth. "They're my favorite part of trail mix and I probably wouldn't eat the stuff if there weren't any in there. I save them for last to make sure I eat the healthy stuff first."

Ben nodded. "That makes sense."

"My best friend here is a health nut," she gestured to Sam, who rolled his eyes. "He likes to keep an eye on me."

"You have an insufferable sweet tooth," Sam interjected.

"Bite me," Julia playfully snapped back at him.

Ben gave them a small smile; Julia was happy that she could help get his mind off of his missing brother.

Only an hour later, they arrived at their destination.

"This is it," Roy declared, looking at his GPS. "Blackwater Ridge."

Sam stepped around him and stopped, looking around at the trees. "What coordinates are we at?"

"Thirty-five and minus one-eleven."

Dean wandered over to Julia and Sam. "You hear that?"

Julia stopped, listened, and nodded; the thing was, there wasn't anything to hear. That was the whole problem. There should be some noise considering the fact that they were in the middle of the woods.

"Yeah," Sam confirmed. "Not even crickets."

"I'm gonna go take a quick look around," Roy told Haley and Ben, causing Julia and the brothers to turn around cautiously.

"You shouldn't go off by yourself," Sam advised, knowing that it was too dangerous for a regular hunter in the woods around here.

"That's sweet," Roy scoffed mockingly and raised the shotgun he had been carrying around. "Don't worry about me."

"Just let him go," Julia grabbed Sam's arm to stop him from following Roy out of the area. "He's an asshole anyway."

Dean made a noise of agreement as Haley and Ben joined them. "All right, everybody stays together. Let's go."

Despite the fact that they all wanted to leave Roy—besides Haley and Ben—they followed the older man anyway. It didn't take long for Roy to find something and when he did, he called for Haley.

She took off at the sound of her name and the rest of them followed her. They came across a campsite that was absolutely ravaged apart. The tents were shredded with some blood on the bigger parts, there was clothing everywhere, and food packages flattened into the muddy ground.

"Oh, my God," Haley breathed.

"Looks like a grizzly," Roy examined the mess.

"Tommy?" Haley called her brother's name, unclipping her backpack. "Tommy!"

"Shh!" Sam hissed at her, jogging over to her side to calm her down.

"Tommy!"

Sam shushed her again and Haley whipped around to face him with an angry stare.

"Why?"

"Something might still be out there," Sam answered.

As Sam and Haley spoke, Dean gently took Julia's arm and pulled her away from Ben. He led her a couple of feet away from the tent, looking at the ground intently. Once he saw what he was looking for, he called his brother's name to get his attention.

"The bodies were dragged from the campsite. But here," Dean explained to Julia as Sam made his way over, pointing to where the tracks stopped. "the tracks just vanish."

"That's weird," Julia wrinkled her nose.

Dean nodded at her. "I'll tell you what, it's no skinwalker or black dog."

Sam nodded in agreement and the three of them wandered back over to Haley, Ben, and Roy. Haley was perched on the ground, holding onto a broken cell phone and crying lightly. Julia guessed that it had been Tommy's.

Dean crouched next to her to offer some comfort. "Hey, he could still be alive."

Haley gave him a look, clearly not believing him.

And then, there was a scream from somewhere in the woods.

"HELP! HELP!"

Dean pulled his gun from his jacket as he, Roy, and Sam took off running toward the voice. Julia, Haley, and Ben followed them at a slightly slower speed, all of them hoping that it was Tommy that was alive and screaming for help.

However, when they came upon a clearing, there was no one there.

"It seemed like it was coming from around here, didn't it?" Haley asked, slightly out of breath.

Sam looked around cautiously. "Everybody back to camp."

They ran back to the messy campsite where Sam's duffle bag and Ben, Roy, and Haley's packs were missing.

"Our packs!" Haley groaned.

"So much for my GPS and satellite phone," Roy grumbled.

"What the hell is going on?" Haley turned to Sam and Dean for answers.

"It's smart," Sam said bitterly. "It wants to cut us off so we can't call for help."

"You're saying someone—some nutjob out there just stole all our gear?" Roy's voice was flat as his eyes darted around the trees.

Sam rolled his eyes at the older man and walked over to Dean and Julia, who were each searching the outer rims of the campsite to see if the creature left anything behind.

"I need to speak with you in private," Sam told them quietly, leading them a couple of feet away from the others so they couldn't overhear. "Okay, let me see Dad's journal."

Dean immediately looked to Julia, who pulled off her backpack and unzipped it. She reached in and grabbed the journal from atop the water bottles she packed, handing it to Sam without a word.

Sam flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for. "All right, check that out," he showed Dean and Julia, pointing out a sketch which looked like a weird stick-figure drawing that reminded Julia of the First Nations.

"Oh, come on," Dean scoffed. "Wendigos are in the Minnesota woods or Northern Michigan. I've never heard of one this far west."

"Dad hunted one in North Dakota once," Julia recalled unhelpfully. Her dad hadn't been expecting the creature since they normally didn't pop up west of Minnesota and he had come home from his hunt badly injured. Julia's mom didn't let him out of the house for a whole week.

"Think about it, Dean," Sam tried to convince his brother. "The claws, the way it can mimic a human voice."

"Great," Dean muttered sarcastically, pulling his gun from his jacket. "Well, then this is useless."

"What kills wendigos?" Julia asked them.

"Fire," Dean told her. "Flare gun, flamethrower, torch, Molotov cocktail. Anything that can blow the fucker up."

Julia winced; that sounded like hard work especially since wendigos were apparently lighting speed fast.

"We gotta get these people to safety," Sam declared as he started heading back to the campsite. When they arrived, he got the others' attention. "All right listen up. It's time to go. Things have gotten more complicated."

"What?" Haley looked at him in shock.

Julia put John's journal back in her bag as Roy gave Sam an annoyed look.

"Kid, don't worry," he stated. "Whatever's out there, I think I can handle it."

"It's not me I'm worried about," Sam replied. "If you shoot this thing, you're just gonna make it mad. We have to leave, now."

"One, you're talking nonsense," Roy faced Sam head-on. "Two, you're in no position to give anybody orders."

"Relax!" Dean warned him, not liking his tone.

"We never should have let you come out here in the first place, all right?" Sam continued, trying to get them to leave. "I'm trying to protect you."

Roy stepped forward, getting in Sam's face. "You protect me?" he laughed mockingly. "I was hunting these woods when your mommy was still kissing you goodnight."

"Hey," Julia snapped at him, bristling at the man's verbal attack. "Back off."

Sam glowered at Roy, losing his temper. "It's a damn near perfect hunter. It's smarter than you and it's gonna hunt you down and eat you alive unless we get your stupid, sorry ass out of here."

"You know you're crazy, right?"

"Yeah?" Sam retorted back. "You ever hunt a wen—"

Dean pushed him away from Roy before he could finish his sentence; Julia grabbed Sam's arm, holding him in place just in case he wanted to beat the shit out of Roy.

"Roy!"

"Chill out!"

"Stop it," Haley protested, stepping in the middle of Sam, Julia, Dean, and Roy. "Everybody just stop. Look, Tommy might still be alive and I'm not leaving here without him."

Dean looked at Julia and Sam before sighing. "It's getting late," he pointed out. "This thing is a good hunter in the day but an unbelievable hunter at night. We'll never beat it, not in the dark. We need to settle in and protect ourselves."

"How?"

Dean held out his hand toward Julia at Haley's question. She gave him a look, annoyed that he just expected her to have his dad's journal out and ready, and pulled the backpack off her shoulders once again. She handed him the journal and pulled out her water bottles, handing three of them to Ben, Haley, and Roy so they could keep hydrated.

Dean flipped through the journal until he got to the pages about the wendigo. He found what he was looking for, a row of protective symbols that would keep the wendigo away from them, and he and Sam got to work on etching them into the dirt around the campsite.

As it got dark, Roy and Ben started a fire so they could keep warm and be able to see who—or what—was around them.

"Okay, so what exactly are these?" Julia asked Dean, hovering behind him as he drew in the dirt with a large stick.

"Anasazi symbols," Dean spoke loud enough so everyone could hear, Julia having told Haley, Ben, and Roy what exactly they were up against. "It's for protection. The wendigo can't cross over them."

Roy laughed in disbelief, slinging his gun over his shoulder.

Dean gave him an annoyed look. "Nobody likes a skeptic, Roy."

Dean stood up and walked over to where Sam was sitting on a log, a melancholy look on his face. Julia let them have their privacy and went back to join Ben and Haley at the fire.

"So, how do you know about all of this?" Haley asked her quietly.

"Honestly, I'm still training," Julia admitted. "but my family has always been involved and Sam and Dean grew up in this. It's like a family business for all of us."

"Your families do this?"

"My dad and one of my older sisters, yeah," Julia confirmed. "Sam and Dean's dad hunts, too."

"Does it scare you?"

"Yeah, of course," Julia said honestly. "It scares the crap out of me but it's better that I know and help out than other people dying, right?"

Haley nodded and Ben looked thoughtful. Suddenly, a voice—the same voice that called for help earlier—started shouting in the distance. Everyone perked up at the noise, getting to their feet in shock and fear.

Dean pulled his gun out of his jacket while Sam flooded the area in light with his large flashlight.

"He's trying to draw us out," Dean stated, cocking his gun. "Just stay cool and stay put."

"Inside the magic circle?" Roy scoffed, raising his own gun for protection.

Everyone ignored his skepticism as the voice shouted again.

"Okay," Roy admitted. "that's no grizzly."

Ben hurriedly grabbed Haley's hand and burrowed into her, frightened beyond belief. Haley had an equally afraid look on her face and held her little brother tightly so she could protect him.

"It's okay," Julia assured them with a calming smile. "You'll be all right, I promise."

Something rushed past the campsite, too fast for anyone to see. Haley shrieked in fear and Ben squeaked; ignoring her own fear, Julia took a protective step toward them.

"It's here," Sam muttered darkly.

As the wendigo sped past them again, Roy shot his gun. Nothing happened but when he took another shot, it sounded like something took a hit. Whether or not it was the actual wendigo and not a tree, Julia didn't know.

"I hit it!" Roy crowed before rushing out of the protective circle to see just what he shot.

"Roy, no!" Dean called after him. He looked back at Julia, Haley, and Ben and warned them not to move before running in the direction where Roy took off. Sam rushed after him and Julia kept a sharp lookout, flashing her light around every couple of seconds.

They couldn't see what was happening to Roy, Dean, and Sam but they could hear shouting. Dean was calling for Roy and Roy was shouting back but his voice abruptly got cut off, putting them in an uneasy silence.

"Roy?" Dean shouted into the quiet.

Within minutes, the brothers came back without Roy in tow.

-

The night passed slowly with Dean and Sam taking shifts to watch out for the wendigo. Julia mostly sat with Sam—who didn't seem to sleep even when he wasn't on watch—restless from the lack of bed and intense paranoia she was having.

They didn't talk as they sat side-by-side, Julia's head resting on his shoulder. They often had silences like this, it was comfortable and it was sometimes relaxing just to stop talking and get lost in your thoughts—that was Julia's point of view, anyway.

"I don't," Haley spoke up a half-hour after sunrise. Julia and Sam were in the same spot, against a tree trunk, and Sam was playing with his dad's rosary. "I mean, these types of things—they aren't supposed to be real."

"I wish I could tell you differently," Dean sighed.

"How do we know it's not out there watching us?"

"We don't but we're safe for now."

"Julia said that you grew up knowing this stuff," Haley said hesitantly; Julia perked up at the mention of her name but laid her head back down on Sam's shoulder once she realized that it was just a passing mention.

"It runs in the family," Dean confirmed.

Sam patted Julia's knee, warning her that he was getting up, and stood up when Julia leaned away from him. Julia hopped to her feet right away, picking up her water bottle to take a sip. They walked over to Dean, Haley, and Ben, who were all in the middle of the protective circle.

"Hey," Sam greeted them; Haley stood up to face him. "So, we've got half a chance in the daylight. And I, for one, want to kill this evil son of a bitch."

"Well, hell, you know I'm in," Dean grinned at his brother. "Give them the rundown, Sammy."

Sam opened up John's journal where he used the rosary as a bookmark and started to explain to Haley and Ben about wendigos. "Wendigo is a Cree Indian word. It means evil that devours."

"They're hundreds of years old," Dean added. "Each one was once a man. Sometimes an Indian or other times a frontiersman or a miner or a hunter."

"How's a man turn into one of those things?" Haley asked curiously.

"Well, it's always the same," he answered. "During some harsh winter, a guy finds himself starving, cut off from supplies or help. He becomes a cannibal to survive, eating other members of his tribe or camp."

"Like the Donner party," Ben supplied.

"Exactly," Julia confirmed.

"Cultures all over the world believe that eating human flesh gives a person certain abilities," Sam continued on with the lesson. "Speed, strength, immortality."

"If you eat enough of it, over the years you become this less-than-human thing," Dean stated. "You're always hungry."

"If that's true, how can Tommy still be alive?"

"You're not gonna like it," Dean sighed, exchanging a hesitant look with Sam before continuing, "More than anything, a wendigo knows how to last long winters without food. It hibernates for years at a time. When it's awake, it keeps its victims alive. It, uh, stores them so it can feed whenever it wants. If your brother's alive, it's keeping him somewhere dark, hidden, and safe. We gotta track it back there."

"And then how do we stop it?"

"Well, guns are useless and so are knives," Dean sighed and picked up a bottle of lighter fluid, a discarded but still intact beer bottle, a white cloth; a homemade Molotov cocktail. "we gotta torch the sucker."

After making a couple of Molotov cocktails, one of which Julia was allowed to hang onto after a stern lecture from an overprotective Dean, they started off in search of the wendigo and whatever cave it was hiding in.

They walked around for a half-hour before Sam spotted some claw marks in the trees, all off them high up and covered in blood. There were a lot of marks, making a circle in the trunks high above their heads.

Julia scrunched her nose; why wouldn't the wendigo cover its tracks? It was like it wanted them to find it.

"Sam, aren't these a little too distinct?" she quietly asked her best friend.

"I was thinking the same thing," he agreed with her. "they're too easy to follow."

A vicious growl came behind their group, causing all of them to whip around. Once they were facing the opposite direction, another screech came from behind them again, moving so fast that the trees rustled like they were in a major storm.

Suddenly, Haley screamed and fell to the ground, looking terrified. Roy's dead body fell right in the spot where she was standing, his neck broken so drastically that his head was almost turned around.

"You okay?" Sam asked her as he helped her to her feet. "You got it?"

"His neck's broken," Dean said needlessly; he stood up and urged them back toward the campsite. "Okay, run, run, run! Go, go, go!"

The five of them took off running, trying to get away from the wendigo as fast as humanly possible. Julia and Ben were at the back and when Ben tripped over an overgrown root in the ground, she accidently dropped her cocktail as she went to help him up.

Sam doubled back to help her and they started running again. They were almost back to the campsite when they heard Haley let out a loud scream. They raced toward the sound, stopping when they didn't see Haley or Dean.

"Shit," Julia sighed anxiously, spotting the Molotov cocktail that Dean had been carrying; it was on the ground, smashed to pieces and very useless. "It took them."

Ben didn't look as panicked as Julia thought he would be since his sister was now missing, as well as his brother. He pulled himself together and clenched his jaw, pushing back his anxiety so he could help find Haley, Dean, and Tommy.

"If it keeps its victims alive why would it kill Roy?" he asked Sam as they continued walking back to the campsite.

"Honestly, I think it's because Roy shot at it and pissed it off," Sam replied; Ben nodded, seeming to accept that answer.

Julia kept her eyes on the ground as she walked, making sure that they wouldn't step in any random bear traps that may be lying around. She gasped excitedly when she saw a large M&M in the mud, more of them following a few inches from each other.

"Look," she pointed them out to Sam and Ben. "Dean's peanut M&Ms."

Sam scoffed in surprise and picked one up. "It's better than breadcrumbs."

They followed the trail of M&Ms to one of the old mines that Sam told her and Dean about the day they got into town. There were signs warning them of intense danger but it was dark and hidden in there; a perfect spot for a wendigo to hide.

Julia, Sam, and Ben stepped through the broken door and made their way further into the mine. Julia pulled out her flashlight the darker it got, illuminating a clear path for them. They heard a growl and hid as the wendigo sped past them, leaving the mine; it was probably searching for them.

Once the wendigo was out of sight, they kept going. Eventually they came upon a larger cave. It was full of old human bones that made Ben flinch in disgust. They also spotted Haley and Ben's hiking gear and in the corner Dean and Haley were hanging up by their arms, both of them unconscious.

Julia sighed in immense relief and sped toward Dean, Sam right on her heels. To be honest, she had been so worried about him and was afraid she might never see him again. If they all got out of this alive, she was going to tease him about being a damsel in distress just to see that annoyed look in his green eyes that she secretly liked.

"Dean!" she exclaimed, reaching for his torso to shake him awake. While she did this, Sam reached up and started cutting at the rope that detained him with one of his knives. "Hey, Dean, wake up. Rise and shine, sleeping beauty."

Dean grunted as he slowly blinked. "Shut up."

Julia beamed at him and laughed softly, bracing him against her as his rope finally broke. Sam went to help Ben get Haley down and Julia slowly helped Dean sit down on the stone floor.

"Are you all right?" Julia asked softly as he groaned in pain.

"Yeah, yeah," Dean assured her quickly. "Where is it?"

"It's gone for now," she told him.

Haley stood up when she was freed from her ropes, way better off than Dean was. She gasped when she saw her older brother hung up in another corner. She, Ben, and Sam went over to him, waking him up and freeing him from his bindings.

Dean huffed and looked over at the bags Julia had set him down by, spotting a few flare guns that would really be helpful. He grabbed three of them, giving one to Julia, and slowly and painfully got to his feet.

"Check it out," he walked over to Sam with a slight limp.

"Flare guns," Sam grinned while Dean twirled two of them dramatically. "Those'll work."

They started out of the cave, Julia and Dean in front of the group—helping a man that was almost a foot taller than her walk was actually hard work—with Ben, Haley, and Tommy supporting each other in the middle, and Sam in the back to protect them.

The wendigo growled threateningly as it came back into the mine and Julia figured that it was upset she, Sam, and Ben weren't back at the campsite for it to bring home to dinner.

"Looks like someone's home for supper," Dean spoke quietly.

"We'll never outrun it," Haley said worriedly.

Dean looked back at them, his eyes flitting over everyone in the group. Finally, he pointedly looked at Sam last. "You thinking what I'm thinking?"

Sam nodded. "Yeah, I think so."

"All right," Dean caught the attention of the Collins siblings. "listen to me. Stay with Julia, she's gonna get you out of here."

"What are you guys going to do?" Julia gave him a concerned look.

Dean gave her a dramatic—and only slightly attractive—wink and pulled away from her. He started running back down the mine with Sam on his heels, both of them screaming for the attention of the wendigo.

"Chow time, you fuckin' bastard!" Dean shouted over Sam's voice. "Yeah, that's right, bring it on, baby! I taste good!"

Any other time, Julia would have laughed her ass off at Dean's nonsense. Now, though, she had work to do and innocent people to save—she was kind of like a superhero now, she guessed.

She held up her flare gun in front of her as she continued out of the mine, the Collins siblings right behind her. She checked to see if the coast was clear before urging them to hurry up out of the mine's entrance.

"All right, come on," she said quickly. "Hurry!"

"Hey! You want some white meat, bitch? I'm right here!" they heard Dean shout.

He's having way too much fun with this, she thought.

Just as the siblings started climbing out of the entrance they heard the wendigo growling a little too close for comfort.

"Get out of here," Julia urged them, coming to a quick decision.

"Julia, no!"

"Go, now!"

"Come on, Haley!" Ben begged his older sister, reaching for her and Tommy through the entrance.

Once Haley gave in and she and Tommy left the mine, Julia turned around to head back toward wendigo's growls. When she heard quick footsteps, she hid behind the way and held her flare gun up, ready to shoot at a moment's notice.

A low snarl from her left caught her attention; she slowly turned to look and screamed when she came face-to-face with the wendigo. She heard Dean and Sam calling her name as she shot the flare at the ugly bastard but it quickly ran off.

Julia didn't waste any time; she sped toward the entrance, hoping that the wendigo wasn't going after Haley, Ben, and Tommy.

"Julia?"

Julia jumped out of the entrance where the siblings were waiting and quickly slipped Tommy's free arm over her shoulder to help bare his weight. "Come on, go, go, go," she urged them. "Hurry, hurry."

There was another loud snarl and the four of them turned around in horror. Although still in the mine, the wendigo had spotted them. It looked absolutely furious in what little expression it had and it was definitely not going to mess around and keep them for the winter.

"Get behind me," Julia ducked from under Tommy's arm, Haley taking her place, and stepped in front of them.

She stared down the wendigo, fearful for her life. The wendigo snarled angrily as it got closer and closer to the entrance, out for blood. It was only a foot or so away from the broken planks when something caught its attention.

"Hey!" Sam and Dean called from behind it.

When the wendigo turned around, both of them shot their flare guns. Their shots rang true and the wendigo burst into flames. Its body burnt into a crisp as it slowly lowered to the ground, finally dead.

"Holy shit," Julia sighed in relief.

"Not bad, huh?" Dean called over to her with a smirk; Julia let out a breathless laugh as he walked over to her, surprisingly cupping her chin and lifting her head to look for any injuries on her face. "You okay?"

"I'm fine," she assured him with a tired smile. "How about you? Did it get some white meat off of ya?"

Dean chuckled. "Oh, it fucking wished, shortcake."

-

Hours later, they had buried the wendigo's corpse so no one could find it, used Tommy's satellite phone to call for medical assistance, and hiked back to the trail entrance. Paramedics, police officers, and park rangers were surrounding the area, offering their assistance immediately.

Tommy went straight into one of the ambulances while Haley and Dean were tended to at the other. Ben and Sam were questioned by a deputy—Sam there in support so Ben would give the officer the correct, but fake, details of what happened—and Julia was questioned by another.

Her questioning was over quickly since she was the only witness the deputy had to talk to, so she quickly took a bottle of water from a helpful park ranger and walked over to the Impala, leaning against the trunk.

She watched as Dean and Haley conversed, likely saying their goodbyes, and smiled when he sent the girl a flirty look and got a kiss on the cheek in return. Same old Dean. Sam and Ben joined them and they quickly said their gracious goodbyes. As the siblings walked toward the ambulance that was bussing their older brother to the hospital, they waved enthusiastically at Julia, who waved back happily.

She was so glad that they had each other and they were all safe. Honestly, she felt great. Despite the fear she had while facing the wendigo, she was pretty proud of herself. She helped save people and it felt damn good.

Sam and Dean walked over to the Impala, their hands in their pockets. Dean leaned against the trunk next to her, sighing heavily.

"Man, I hate camping."

"Me too," Sam agreed.

"Glamping is way better," Julia stated honestly.

Dean gave her a weird look. "What the fuck is glamping?"

"Glamorous camping," she ignored the weird looks the brothers gave her.

Sam's face quickly fell into sadness and Dean gave him a sympathetic look. "Sam, you know we're gonna find Dad, right?"

"Yeah, I know," Sam said sullenly before perking up. "But, in the meantime, I'm driving."

Dean wordlessly tossed him the keys.

"Ooh," Julia squeaked excitedly. "Shotgun."

"I don't think so."

"Fine," she shrugged, unbothered as Dean gently pushed her away from the passenger seat. "At least the driver gets to pick the music."

"Ah, hell, I'm regretting this already."

(Gif is not mine)

[lady-of-nightmares-and-heartache]

Writing To Your Memory (Mando x Reader)

Summary: It’s been two years since you left. Not a day goes by that you don’t regret it. A reunion may be closer than you think.

Pairing: Mandalorian x Reader

Rated T: Violence, Mentions of mental health, mild swearing

Word Count: 3.931k

It’s been two years since you left. Not a day goes by that you don’t regret. You miss the Mandalorian. You try to keep busy, try to keep your mind and your heart distracted. But ignoring your problems doesn’t make them go away. You should have learned that lesson the first time. 

 You had been traveling with the Mandalorian for a little over two years, helping with bounties when needed. It was a good life. In him, you found a trusted acquaintance within the first month of working together. A month later, you were friends. Then that friendship turned into something else. Unfortunately, neither of you ever had the chance to give it a name.

 Mando was a good guy, even if he didn’t think so himself. He always had your back, and encouraged you when you needed it most. One night, on the RazorCrest, he had stumbled upon your secret. You had a knack for writing.

 You don’t know when you had picked up the hobby, but it started by keeping a catalog of supplies and what bounty you had caught that day. Then it progressed into something bigger. You wrote about the Guild and the New Republic and the fall of the Empire.

 When Mando saw you furiously scribbling away at some parchment in the cargo hold, he was surprised at the concentration openly displayed on your face. He cleared his throat, alerting you to his presence. Your face flushed in embarrassment. He held out his hand, clearly gesturing for the paper. You handed it to him and sat there in silence as he read your work. You couldn’t stand the silence anymore so you had to ask.

 “What do you think?”

 He glanced at you, and you stared at your reflection in the visor.

 “This is really good, Cyar’ika. You should do something with this.”

 That got you thinking. Everyone hates the Empire, and everyone knew that even though the Empire was “gone”, Imperials and Loyalists still remained.

 After discussing your crazy idea with Mando, you decided that you were going to out the remaining Imps. You and Mando went to all corners of the galaxy for bounty hunting anyway, so this wouldn’t be interfering.

 You wrote articles and tips anonymously about the information you had gathered on your targets and spread them throughout cantinas and markets alike.

 The New Republic caught wind of your work and thanked whoever was writing these immensely. Within three months, two Moffs, fifteen stormtroopers, and various other Imperial officers had been apprehended either by the New Republic or vengeful citizens.

 All was going well until a massive bounty was placed on Anonymous (that’s what they called you before they knew). Despite Mando reassuring you that nobody would find out, eventually someone did.

 You were on a hunt with Mando, looking for a big bounty that would fuel the RazorCrest for weeks. It was a relatively easy takedown and Mando knew you would want to head towards the Cantina to drop off some of your work. You had been writing less and less these days, because of the risks, but that still didn’t stop you. Mando offered to take the bounty back to the ship and that you could meet him back there when you were done. You agreed, and made sure your comm was handy just in case.

 You left the Cantina with ease, and didn’t think you had been spotted. You thought wrong. Rounding the corner, you jumped as the barrel of a blaster was pressed to your temple.

 “So you’re the girl that’s been giving us so much trouble? I have to say I expected… more.”

 You grit your teeth and tried not to cry. You were going to die right here and never get to say goodbye.

 Then you remembered the commlink in your pocket. You turned it on, praying to the Maker that Mando would hear it.

 “You’re just mad it took you this long to figure out that I was behind all of the papers.”

 Whoever held you captive slammed your back into the wall and you let out a wheeze. You saw your captor and realized that he must’ve been an Imperial Officer when the Empire was at its peak. Your only thought was to keep him talking.

 “You’re an Imp?? How did you find me?”

 He smiled coldly. “I enlisted some help. Stormtroopers and Bounty Hunters get along marvelously if the price is right.”  

 That’s when your brain decided to register the three troopers that flanked him. Working with the Guild and long as you have, you figured the building you were pinned against and the surrounding area was probably littered with bounty hunters.

 Suddenly you wish you hadn’t used the comm to contact the Mandalorian. You wished in vain though, because not a moment after you thought it, your knight in shining armor made a grand entrance and came in guns blazing.  Everyone around you dropped and he grabbed your hand.

 “Cyar’ika, are you alright?” Besides the ache in your back and ribs, you were fine. You nodded your head.

 Once he verified that you were mostly unharmed, he pulled you back towards the Crest and you both took off running. You’ll never forget what happened next. For some reason the Mandalorian turned his head over his shoulder and the next thing you knew you were being shoved to the side. You couldn’t even collect your bearings before you heard three consecutive shots in a row. You whirl around panicked, and see Mando unmoving on his side, his blaster a few feet in front of him.

 You dive for the blaster and shoot the approaching mercenary right between the eyes. Rolling the Mandalorian onto his back, you try to assess the situation the best you can. You know you heard three shots fired, and two of the three are accounted for on his breastplate.

 It feels wrong to be touching him while he’s unconscious, but this is a potential life or death situation, so he’ll just have to forgive you. As you run your hands along his sides your fingers tingle with the contact. How many times had you thought about doing this? You are abruptly ripped from your thoughts when your right hand is suddenly warm and sticky and the Mandalorian lets out a low groan.

 You can’t help him here, so you drag him another hundred yards until you get to the RazorCrest. You use the second to last bacta pad and place it on his wound. You monitor him throughout the night, but you’ll soon find out it’ll be another week before he wakes up.

 That week consists of the worst days of your life. With no one to talk to, and the chances of a recovery getting slimmer with each passing day, you get stuck inside your own head. You cried yourself to sleep every night. You prayed multiple times a day, and you had never prayed before that. You were an absolute mess and replaying different scenarios in your mind made everything worse. By day six you had worked out three things.

 First, this is all your fault. You decided to get involved in a risky business and Mando paid the price for it. Second, you think you might be in love with him. Lastly, you can’t stay here with him. It’s too dangerous with this big of a bounty on your head.

 So you made the decision to leave him as soon as you knew he’d live. You couldn’t figure out how you would tell him, so you decided to leave a letter for him.

 It said:

 Mando,

 If you’re reading this, I am long gone by now. With a bounty as large as the one on me, I’ve come to realize that it’s no longer safe nor practical for the two of us to travel together. I know you’ll be fine with the Guild, as I’ve never been much help in a hunt anyway. I’m doing this because… because this is what I want. I know you’re the best hunter in the parsec but please, don’t go looking for me. Lastly, be mindful of your side, you’re very low on medical supplies. The last bacta patch is underneath this letter if you haven’t already seen it.

 Be safe,

 Cyar’ika  

 You weren’t going to sign the letter at all to be honest, but it seemed too impersonal not to. Cyar’ika was a nickname for you that he used often, even though you never knew what it meant. At the end of the seventh day he wakes up, just as you’re about to leave. Luckily for you, he’s disoriented so he doesn’t catch you in your lie.

 You place the letter and the bacta patch on the pilots seat. You look around the cockpit one last time. You sigh, and head back down to lower the ramp. You hear his voice just before you step out.

 “Cyar’ika?” his voice his raspy with disuse. Your heart clenches.

 “Yeah, I’m right here.” You fail to stop your voice from shaking.

 “Where are you going?” Then he winces. “What happened?”

 You return to his side on the make-shift medical table in the cargo hold. “You got shot and you’ve been out for a week. I’m going to get more medical supplies and paper.” The lie burns your throat.

 “Mmm.”

 You assume he’s already losing consciousness again. You turn to leave but suddenly find that you can’t. Your heart is heavy and your eyes water. You stand there for a long time before you kiss his helmeted forehead. You whisper an apology and leave the RazorCrest for the last time.

 ———————————————————————

 Life got harder without him. You continued searching for Imps and assisting the New Republic in any way you could, without being identified. You picked up a new alias, hoping it would throw others off your scent.

 You had signed off your work with a new, permanent alias ever since you left the Mandalorian. Eventually the toll of life alone, and on the run had severely impacted your mental health. You were always on edge, and always felt as though you could combust at any minute.

 One day as you were passing through a market, a medium-sized notebook caught your eye. You paid the merchant more than it was worth probably, but you immediately took it to your dinky ship.

 You sat down and opened the book, and began to write. You didn’t know what you were going to write until the pen hit the paper. Then it just flowed right out of you.

 It was a letter. To the Mandalorian. You updated him on your life, and had a one-sided conversation of sorts. When you filled up two pages, you dated the top, and signed off at the bottom. You wrote a C out of habit, then stopped. Bracing yourself, you wrote out Cyar'ika.

 A single tear rolled down your face, but you already felt much better than before. So it became a habit. You wrote to him when you had bad days. You wrote when you were bored, you wrote him countless apologies and explanations and you wrote to him about how much you missed him and that you fucked up but it was too late. You filled up three notebooks with ease, and stashed them away when you finished them. Slowly, the guilt of what you did so long ago began to lessen with every page you filled.

 ———————————————————————

 The Mandalorian looked for you for months. As talented as he was as hunting, you were equally talented at covering your tracks. Still, he didn’t give up going from planet to planet until he could find you.

 He was just about to leave for the next planet when he overheard some mercenaries complain that the bounty for the anonymous writer was withdrawn.

 That meant one of two things. You were dead, or you were already handed over to the Imperials. Mando’s heart dropped. He returned to his ship and slammed his fist into the wall.

 He had fucking lost you. You were gone and he lost everything. He allowed himself ten seconds of grief and pure rage. When time was up, his emotions turned off. What was left of him was a stone cold shell of a bounty hunter.

 He returned to Guild work as usual. What else was left for him to do? Even though he hated droids, you’d be hard pressed to spot the difference between them and him. Pick up jobs, hunt, cash-in, repeat. He became the highest producing bounty hunter within a year.

 Landing on Nevarro, he met with Greef Karga as usual for the exchange. This time instead of pucks however, Karga sent Mando directly to a client for a more lucrative bounty. When he gets there, his jaw clenches at the thought of taking on a job for Imperials. The Client shows the real Beskar as payment and he can’t refuse.

 “All we can offer you about the bounty is the name and tracking fob,” the Client rasps.

 “That’s all?” Mando wasn’t happy.

 “Your target is Carella Scarshea. I trust you’ll make quick work of this.”

 The Mandalorian pocketed the tracking fob and left the Imperialist lair.

 It takes him a week to find the planet that his target is currently residing on. He enters the atmosphere, hoping to be in and out. Right now he can only think about how you would be helping him out on a job like this.

 ———————————————————————

 You’ve had to move around more and more once a new bounty was placed on your head. At least the alias would keep them busy for a while. You stopped on Coruscant to shop for a few things before you could move on to the next planet.

 In the market, you bought a few more notebooks, knowing you’d fill them up in no time, and brought them back to your ship. You should have left right then and there, but to be honest, you were getting tired of space travel. You decided one last walk around the city wouldn’t hurt.

 You passed by a small jewelry stand and perused some of the items. A delicate Mythosaur pendant was on display. You remembered that the Mythosaur was the symbol of the Mandalorians and you smiled sadly.

 You purchased the pendant anyway, and stuffed it in your pocket. You felt a shift in the air and tensed up. You backed away from the merchant and turned around very slowly, the sense of imminent doom rising. Oddly enough, no one was there that seemed out of the ordinary. Regardless, you were unsettled. You rushed back to your ship. If you had been paying attention, you would’ve clearly realized that someone was onboard.

 A blaster was pressed against your back.

 “Carella Scarshea?” A modulated voice asked.

 You put your hands up and nodded your head once. The man instructed you to turn around and slowly back up against the wall. You turned around and your heart nearly stopped. You were staring into the visor of a Mandalorian.

 ———————————————————————

 The Mandalorian found his target’s ship and waited for her to return. Luckily for him he didn’t have to wait long. Something must have spooked her out there because she came barreling into the ship. He took the opportunity to point his blaster at her back before she made it to the cockpit.

 “Turn around very slowly, and then back up against the wall.”

 She didn’t say a word, but hesitated before doing as she was told. When she turned around and he saw her face, he felt as though he was in the vacuum of space. It took him entirely too long to holster his weapon.

 It was you. You were alive. He kept running it through his head. You were alive, you were alive, you were alive. And you were standing right in front of him after these two years that felt like a lifetime.

 He was only brought back from his dazed stupor by your voice.

 “... Mando?” you whispered.

 He suddenly came back to life. He grabbed your wrist and tugged you towards him. His other hand reached out to the underside of your jaw. Cupping your chin, he tilted your head up to look at him. Staring at his visor, your vision became blurred by unshed tears.

 He must have noticed, because he then enveloped you in a bone crushing hug.

 Maker, you missed him.

 ———————————————————————

 Now that you had been reunited, you moved back into the RazorCrest. You and Mando hadn’t talked about the elephant in the room yet, but the tension was palpable. You still hadn’t unpacked your belongings. You stared at the boxes.

 “You plan on disappearing again?”

 Mando’s question came out more bitter than he intended, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care at the moment.

 You look up to see him leaning against the door frame, his arms folded across his chest.

 “That’s not fair-” you begin to protest, but Mando cuts you off.

 “Isn’t it though? You lied the last time I saw you, and all I got by way of an explanation was a note!”

 His voice rose as he spoke. You heard the modulator crackle as he took a deep breath.

 “You do not get to tell me what’s fair.”

 The anger you had expected. In fact, you were surprised that he had openly welcomed you back when he found you on your ship. You hadn’t expected to feel defensive over your decisions, but you did. You rise from your crouched position by your boxes.

 “You know what’s not fair Mando? That you almost died because of me! And if you thought that I could stick around and not drown in guilt you’re wrong.”

 You let the words flow, raw emotion that you had suppressed for years finally seeing the light.

 “Every minute that I stayed, you were in danger. I left because I had just figured out that I loved you and I knew it wasn’t a good idea to stay after I almost lost you!”

 The Mandalorian tensed and your brain registered what you had just admitted out loud. You clapped a hand over your mouth and immediately ran off of the ship.

 Mando couldn’t have followed you if he tried. He was rooted to the spot. You had just said you loved him. And like an idiot, he stood there and said nothing. Which is probably why you tore off.

 Mad at himself, and at you, he slammed a fist into the wall. One of your few boxes tipped over with the vibration that rattled the ship. Five or six notebooks had fallen out. Frustrated, he bent over to pick them up. The last one he grabbed had opened, so he naturally took a quick glance at the front page.

 He was very surprised to find that there was another letter addressed to him. So, he read it. He was stunned to find that the entire notebook was filled with what were basically diary entries, but they had his name on the top. He quickly read through other notebooks and saw that they were all filled up too.

 “Holy shit,” he whispered aloud.

 The last notebook had only one letter in it.

 It said:

 Mando,

 It’s been a long time since I wrote the very first letter that started this whole mess. Honestly, knowing that you aren’t dead because of me isn’t as comforting as I’d hoped it would be. But, I’m in too deep now. I miss you a lot. Everyday is hard without you. Anyway, I made a decision today. This is the last collection of letters. While writing to you has really been the only thing keeping me going as of late, there has to be more to my life than this. I don’t want to forget you, by any means. But thinking about you and “talking” to you everyday is painful. I second guess myself a lot. I don’t know if I’ll make it to the end of this notebook. I’ve had a couple close calls and I’ve been really out of it mentally. After this, I have to try and move on with my life. But I’m allowing myself- no, I deserve time to process and pretend everything is going to be alright and go back to normal for a little while.

 Be safe,

 Cyar’ika

P.S. (I finally figured out how to spell my nickname!! Maybe you can tell me what it means someday.)

 ———————————————————————

 You ran out like that because you panicked. You didn’t mean to say all that right now. Or ever, actually. But you blurted out that you loved him after not seeing him for years, and you definitely did not want to see his initial reaction. So you ran like a coward.

 After berating yourself for the better part of an hour, you went back. You owed him an apology. Walking up the ramp, you hoped that he was still on the ship. You were very surprised to find that he was close to where you left him, with one of your notebooks in his hand. You swallowed thickly, wondering just how much he had read. He angled his head towards you, almost questioningly.

 “You’ve been writing these letters this whole time.” It wasn’t so much a question as it was a surprised statement. You nodded your head, suddenly exhausted. You walk over to him and plop down on the ground by his side.

 “I was really stupid,” you sigh dejectedly. Mando was quiet for a moment, your words hanging in the air uncomfortably. You took his silence as an agreement with your self-assessment.

 “I understand if you hate me,” you say quietly. You close your eyes. Maker, you must seem pathetic. You are very confused when you hear a huff of repressed laughter come from the Mandalorian.

 Instead of sitting shoulder to shoulder with him, you swivel around so you face him. You raise an eyebrow.

 “What’s so funny?”

 The Mandalorian reaches across his chest and tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. You shudder.

 “Cyar’ika, I could never hate you.” His voice somehow sounds lower, like he wants to tell you a secret.

 “Oh?”

 He runs his thumb down your jaw. Then he opens the notebook and places it in your lap. He points at the page.

 “You want me to tell you what it means?” he asks. You nod your head eagerly.

 “It means sweetheart in Mando’a.”

 You feel heat rising to your cheeks, and suddenly you feel breathless. He’s been calling you sweetheart for so long.

 “Why didn’t you say anything earlier?” you question. 

He counters you with a “Why didn’t you?”

 You begin to laugh out loud. “We’re both idiots, you know that right?”

 “Right,” he scoffs. “At least we know now.”

 He stands up after you both sit there in silence for a long time.  “I think it’s time we moved on to the next planet, and put everything else behind us… if you still plan on staying, that is.”

 You stretch out your hand, gesturing for him to help you up.  His gloved hand takes yours, and you immediately intertwine your fingers with his.

 The stress and uncertainty of recent years fade to the back of your mind. You’ve never been so sure of anything in your life.

 “You won’t be able to get rid of me even if you want to,” you smiled cheekily. Then you add on, to let him know that you’re serious.

 “I’m staying.”

 And for the both of you, that was enough.

[snarkybluechristian]

Taken: a Helluva Boss One-Shot

“I don’t understand,” Moxxie said to the three cherubs hovering around him on the roof of the I.M.P. building.  “What are you talking about?  I’m not heavenly.  I’m an imp, a hell-born imp.  I kill humans for a living.” “You were,” Clement said gently and patiently holding Moxxie’s hands in his own.  “But you’ve changed.  You’ve been changing since you tried to save that family on Halloween.  God and everyone else have been watching you ever since.” Moxxie tore his hands away from Clement and protested, “But they died.  They all died!  You saw that.  Didn’t you?  I also was the one who killed the mother.  There is nothing heavenly about me!” “What about everything that has happened since?” the sheep lady cherub asked.  “All that you’ve done to try to help other humans?” “Try,” Moxxie snapped angrily before turning and attempting to walk away.  “Tried is the key word!  I’ve failed more times than I can count and have helped very few people and risked myself and my wife’s safety in the process!  Why that should get me publicity with the Man Upstairs and warrant a visit from cherubs is beyond me…” “But that’s just it,” Clement interrupted, merrily flying in front of him.  “Anna is right.  Imps don’t try to do anything good for anyone other than themselves and their own kind.  You’re different.  You’ve always been a little different.  I think you know that.” “Yeah, ‘weak because I can’t do what I need to and get the job done,’” Moxxie quoted his boss annoyedly.   “No,” Clement said.  “Different because you have a conscience.” That made Moxxie freeze in his tracks and start to fidget nervously.   “What are you talking about?” Moxxie asked. “You have a conscience that compels you to go out of your way to help people even though that’s not what Lucifer would want,” Clement continued.  “The imps and fallen creatures suppress it, and very few act on it…” “SO FUCKING WHAT?!” Moxxie shrieked.  “God, why can’t you just leave me alone?!  You’ve been stalking me and spouting shit about being ‘heavenly or whatever’ for almost a week!  I’ve got enough on my plate with my boss and my job and Millie worrying sick about me and my goddamn blood pressure!  I don’t need this!  So just tell me what you mean and quit fucking stalking me!  I get enough of that from my boss.” Moxxie turned away angrily with tears threatening to pour through his eyes.  What they were saying was true and he didn’t want to admit it.  He couldn’t.  It was unthinkable.  That would mean… Clement flew in front of Moxxie and said with a warm smile, “I was told that this isn’t easy for your kind to hear, but you have to be taken.” Moxxie felt his mind freeze and his legs give out from under him.  He practically fainted where he stood and only knew he didn’t fall because the other cherubs supported him. To be taken was almost unheard of for an imp.  It was as bad as being sent to the void, maybe even worse.   An imp at his origin was a corrupted cherub that followed Lucifer in his rebellion to serve the master race of fallen angels and generally cause mayhem wherever possible.  Since then, the imps had generations and generations of children all dedicated to the same purpose.  To betray that purpose, to betray that calling, to betray their realm was unthinkable.     It was a scary story imps told their children to keep them from ever becoming “rebelliously good.” It was the worst-case scenario no one could ever imagine happening to them. It was the point of no return.  It had happened to only maybe few hundred imps over history at the most, which was a big deal considering their numbers and their eternal lifespan, with the last one having been taken before even Blitzo was born.   “Moxxie, wake up,” Clement said. “Yeah, Moxxie, it’s okay,” Anna said.   “No,” Moxxie replied. “Hey, he’s waking up,” the third cherub said. “No, no, no, no, no, no!” Moxxie said awakening from his stupor.  “This can’t be happening!” “But Moxxie, Heaven is great!” Clement reassured him. “That is not my home!” Moxxie said shaking out of their arms and getting to his feet.  “I can’t leave!  There’s no way!” “But you can’t stay here,” Anna said. “What?” Moxxie asked.  “Why not?!” “Because the elder demons will take you away,” the third cherub said in a tone that was far too upbeat. Moxxie’s already fragile heart skipped a beat.   “What?” Moxxie asked sheepishly. “Lucifer doesn’t like it when imps go traitor, so he locks them away,” the third cherub said.  “They did just throw them into the void, but we kept getting them out.  So, now, they’re all just locked away for all eternity.” “Where?” Moxxie asked. “In terrible dungeons...” the third cherub replied cheerily. “Eustace, I think that’s enough,” Clement pleaded seeing Moxxie’s tears.   Moxxie burst into tears and began sobbing uncontrollably. “There, there,” the lady cherub said rubbing Moxxie’s back.  “It’s okay.  You’ll be plenty happy in heaven.” “No, I won’t,” Moxxie moaned. “Why not?” Anna asked. “Millie…” Moxxie cried. The cherubs looked at each other sadly. “I’m sure there’s something we can do to help you talk to her,” Clement said gently.  “But you really can’t stay here.  Lucifer knows when an imp turns good.  He has already sent demons after you...” Meanwhile back in the office… “Stolas, what the fuck are you talking about?” Blitzo asked the owl demon prince standing in his office.  “I know Moxxie’s a fuckup, but he’s no heavenly creature.  You can’t take my employee!” “I’m sorry, Blitzy, but rules are rules,” Stolas replied sadly.  “The king said that Moxxie was a traitor, so I have to take him away before the cherubs do.” “You’re wrong!” Millie protested.  “Moxxie has made mistakes, but he’s not gone heavenly!  You can’t take him!  I won’t let you!” “Millie dear, if I don’t, Lucifer will, and Lucifer won’t treat him quite as well, I can assure you,” Stolas said with a sad smile crossing his beak.  “Keeping Moxxie under house arrest with me is the best chance that he has.  He doesn’t even have to sleep in the dungeon.  He can sleep in a guest room, wander the grounds as he pleases, and have whatever he wants.  I can imprison him how ever I see fit since I have taken it upon myself to be his warden.  I won’t be cruel to him.  I assure you, Millie.  You can see your husband as often as you like.  You can even move in with him if that’s what you wish.” “Stolas, this is bullshit!” Blitzo protested, standing up from his desk and running around to get in the demon prince’s face.  “That dumbass imp is my employee and my family, and family does not put family under house arrest!” “You know what would happen to me and my family if we let a traitor slide, Blitzy?” Stolas asked with a sigh.  “We’d suffer a fate worse than the would-be prisoner.  Besides, I’m sure you can hire another employee…” “I won’t work here without Moxxie,” Millie snarled. “Make that two more employees,” Stolas said. “No fucking way,” Blitzo growled.  “Moxxie is not getting locked up in your castle of non-stop fuckery and that’s final!” Stolas sighed deeply and snapped his fingers.  Shadows suddenly emerged and restrained the two imps. “STOLAS, WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS?!” Blitzo yelled viciously thrashing against the bonds of the shadows.  “LET US GO!” “Your majesty, please!” Millie pleaded as she struggled in the shadow’s grip. “I’m sorry, Millie, but if you won’t turn Moxxie over to me, I will need to hunt the little imp down and take him home myself,” Stolas said, standing up and leaving the room with a sad flourish.  “Loona, have you seen Moxxie?” Loona barely looked up from her phone as she sat in her desk and pretended to be uninterested. “No,” Loona said.  “Can’t say I have.” “Can you really say you haven’t?” Stolas asked, pushing the phone down with one finger.  “You know I can have all of you put in my dungeon for hiding a fugitive.” A bead of sweat formed on Loona’s brow as she searched for an answer. On the other side of the window, outside the office, the three cherubs were holding Moxxie up while they flew. “Oh, my God,” Moxxie muttered.  “What do I do?  What do I do?  What do I do?” “You have to come home with us,” Clement said.  “You don’t have freedom here anymore.  Jesus will cover your sins with his blood, you can be forgiven, and you can be a cherub like us!” “But Stolas will imprison everyone,” Moxxie replied.  “Loona, Blitzo, and even my Millie!” “We can’t do anything about that,” Anna said.  “I’m so sorry!  I really am, but we’re like you.  None of us have the power to take on a demon prince.” Moxxie looked sadly at the window and said, “Let me go to him.” “What?” Clement asked.  “Are you crazy?” “I can live with being under house arrest,” Moxxie said resolutely.  “I couldn’t even live in heaven if anything bad happened to Millie.” “That is so beautiful,” Eustace said. “Yeah, you really are a noble soul,” Anna said. “Yeah,” Moxxie said with a warm smile crossing his face.  “I guess I am.” “Are you sure you want to do this?” Clement asked nervously.  “Living with Stolas sounds really scary.  Heaven would be a lot better.  Besides, your friends might not love you the same when they find out you’ve gone good.  You’d be all alone.” Moxxie hesitated for a moment and replied, “I’m sure.  If Millie and everyone else are free, that’ll be enough.” Clement smiled widely, rubbed his fingers together, and summoned a rosary.   “If you ever need a way out, hold this and pray,” Clement said.  “We’ll come to get you in a jiffy if we can.” Moxxie smiled and slipped the rosary into his pocket. “Thanks, guys,” Moxxie said with a bittersweet smile.  “Now, phase me through.” The cherubs smiled sadly and phased Moxxie through the wall right as the interrogation with Loona was starting to pick up. “I’m here, Stolas,” Moxxie said, instantly getting Stolas’s attention.  “I’m ready to go.” “MOXXIE, DON’T YOU FUCKING DARE!” Blitzo screamed.   “Moxxie!” Millie cried. “Millie!” Moxxie cried back.  “I’m so sorry!  I should have told you sooner.” “Told us what?!” Millie replied.   Moxxie breathed in and out and replied, “That I’ve gone heavenly.” “Told you,” Stolas chirped in. Millie, Blitzo, and Loona stood there with their jaws practically on the floor. “Moxxie,” Blitzo replied after a minute of stunned silence.  “That isn’t possible.  You’re an assassin for hire for Christ’s sake.  You’re not good.” “Yes, I am, sir,” Moxxie admitted, staring at the floor.  “I’ve been going out of my way to try to help people during our assignments for a while.  It started last Halloween.  I called the earth authorities to try to save those kids from their psycho Dad, but it didn’t work…” “So, you weren’t jerking off?” Blitzo interrupted. “No,” Moxxie said sadly.  “I was trying to help.  It didn’t work though because the cops killed them all.  But ever since that night, I’ve been trying to help other people and I’ve slowly completely lost my interest in killing.  I like helping people more than I ever did killing.  I don’t even remember the last time I didn’t kill in self-defense.  It’s weird.  I don’t even regret doing it.  I just regret having to lie about it.  I’m so sorry.” “So, you lied the whole time because you thought you’d be hated?” Loona asked.  “That’s pathetic but kind of understandable.” “I still love you, Millie,” Moxxie said, completely ignoring what Loona said.  “You too, Loona, and even you, Blitzo.  I mean, yeah, you piss me off and are unbelievably hurtful with your words and your actions sometimes, but I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.  That’s why I’m here.  I couldn’t go to heaven knowing that you would suffer.” “That’s pretty cool of you,” Loona said with a small smile. “Thanks,” Moxxie said with a sad smile.  “That means a lot.” Moxxie looked up to see the reactions of his friends. Blitzo’s mouth was still on the floor, and for once, he was completely speechless. Millie’s eyes were brimming over with tears.  Moxxie couldn’t look at her for more than a second. Stolas looked over at him and smiled sadly. “You know what I have to do then?” Stolas asked. “Yes,” Moxxie replied with a nod.  “Just let my wife and my family go.” “Done,” Stolas said, snapping his fingers and releasing his captives with one hand and flicking some magic over to Moxxie with his other hand.  “Come along now.” In an instant, shackles attached to an iron collar formed around Moxxie’s neck and wrists.   Moxxie’s expression fell pitifully.   “There, just like that,” Stolas said, snapping pictures with his phone.  “Keep up that miserable and pathetic expression!  You look just perfect!  And, there!  Now, I can send these photos to Lucifer and get him off my ass.” Moxxie sighed sadly as Stolas sent the pictures to their destination, desperately trying to hold back tears of his own. “And, we’re done,” Stolas said, shoving his phone into his pocket and using his telekinetic powers to pick up Moxxie and fly him into his arms.  “I’ll talk to you later about arranging visits, Blitzy.  Now, I’ve gotta get some shots of Moxxie in my dungeon to satisfy Lucifer.  You would not believe what a hard ass our king is about dealing with traitors.  Yet he’s a complete hypocrite.  Never mind the fact that his own daughter is trying to help sinners.  He won’t do a thing about that, but he can’t accept a single imp returning to heaven.  Satan knows why.  It’s not like we’re running low on them.  Anyways, I’m rambling…” Stolas held Moxxie under one arm and said, “Say goodbye to your loved ones, Moxxie.” Everyone stood there still completely speechless but with tears at the corners of their eyes.  Even Loona looked like she was hiding a few. “Moxxie…” Millie muttered. “I love you, Millie,” Moxxie said.  “I guess I love you other guys too.  I hope you come visit a lot.” “See you later,” Stolas said turning and leaving the office.  “Please send some of his things later, Millie.  Not many of my clothes fit little imps.” Moxxie’s sad eyes filled with tears as Stolas carried him down the elevator, out of the building, onto the street, and into his limo.  He ignored the surprised gasps and shocked stares of the other imps who saw him.  He couldn’t even bring himself to see if his wife and co-workers were following them. Once they were in the limo, Stolas sat Moxxie comfortably beside him and said, “Are those shackles fitting okay?” Moxxie shook out of his thoughts and said, “They feel like shackles, your majesty.” “Don’t sound so pathetic,” Stolas said as the limo drove away.  “I only have you wearing them for the pictures I’ll send to Lucifer and ‘to make an example of you to other imps.’  I have to let him think I’m torturing you at least a little bit before I make you a permanent, pampered house guest.  I’ll take them off as soon as we get on the main road where no one can see you.” “Thanks,” Moxxie said sadly, looking out the windows into the red sky wondering if his cherub friends could see him. Stolas looked over sympathetically and said, “Please do remember, Moxxie.  This is nothing personal.  I wouldn’t be doing this if Lucifer wasn’t breathing down my neck about it.  If I had my way, I’d let you run free.  You don’t deserve this.” Moxxie looked back at Stolas and nodded sadly before looking back out the window.   Stolas gave him an understanding smile and dissolved the restraints.  Moxxie thanked him and continued staring out the window. As soon as they arrived at the castle, Stolas took Moxxie to the dungeon to get a few photographs of him on his torture devices to convince Lucifer he was being adequately punished.  Once they were done, Stolas took Moxxie to the guest room, laid the ground rules, put a magical tracking bracelet on his foot, and left him alone to get habituated until supper. Moxxie spent the hours laying on his bed, crying about the freedom he lost, the job that was gone, the mistakes he may have just made, and the imps who might never want to see him again. When dinner was brought to him, Moxxie didn’t move from his position.  He let the food grow cold and continued crying into the night. Moxxie was still crying when he heard a familiar voice. “Will you stop crying, ya little bitch?” Moxxie started in surprise and looked up to see an interdimensional hole on the head of his bed with Blitzo leaning on it.   “Sir?” Moxxie asked as he sat up and rubbed his eyes.  “What are you doing here?  Does Stolas know you’re here?” “He called us cuz you wouldn’t stop crying,” Blitzo said.  “So, we thought we thought we’d give you a call.” “We?” Moxxie asked, hopefully. “MOXXIE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” Millie squealed, jumped through the portal on top of Moxxie.   “Millie?!” Moxxie said with tears in the corner of his eyes as he squeezed her in his arms.  “You’re all here.” “Yeah, sorry about not saying anything earlier,” Blitzo said.  “It was a dick move.  We were all a bit shocked, but still...Anyways, what we wanted to say was…” “Moxxie, we don’t hate you for going heavenly,” Millie said, allowing Moxxie to sit up.   “You don’t?” Moxxie asked. “Nope, we wish you told us sooner, but we still love you,” Millie said planting a kiss on Moxxie’s cheek.   “What she said,” Blitzo added.  “I always knew something was off.  Like, I thought you were mentally challenged or some shit like that, but this is something else.  It’s weird, but I kinda don’t mind it.” “You don’t?” Moxxie asked, skeptically.   “Yeah, not being a total asshole in hell is kinda nice,” Blitzo said.  “Like in the same way a lover letting you take a shower after a good fuck instead of throwing you out in the rain is nice.” “Weird metaphor, but I accept it,” Moxxie replied. “We also appreciate you turning yourself in instead of escaping to heaven and allowing us to get imprisoned!” Loona called out from the other side of the portal.  “That was a ballsy move.  You’re not the whiny bitch I thought you were.” “Anyways, wanna go out to eat?” Blitzo asked. “I can’t sir,” Moxxie said sadly.  “I’m imprisoned.” “Stolas has given you a free pass for the night,” Millie said. Moxxie froze with his jaw open. “Really?” he asked. “Yes,” Stolas said, slamming the door open.  “Now get out of my house and stop crying!” “I knew you were listening in, you bird-beaked bastard,” Blitzo said. “I have to monitor all prison communications,” Stolas said.  “Although with some incentive, I could look the other way.” “I’m not going on a date with you outside of the full moon, jackass,” Blitzo replied before looking at Moxxie and hesitating.  “Unless Moxxie gets a free day out of it.” “He can leave for the night if you come warm my bed,” Stolas said seductively. “Deal,” Blitzo said. “But sir!” Moxxie protested. “But nothing!” Blitzo said, hopping through the portal, picking up Moxxie, and looking him in the eye.  “This is what family does!  Now, go enjoy your jail break with your wife and I’ll see you tomorrow.” Millie squealed and pulled Moxxie through the portal with him. “Thank you, your majesty,” Millie said.  “I’ll have him back by curfew.” “Don’t worry about it,” Stolas said, seductively stroking Blitzo.  “You can take him home.  I won’t miss him.” “Have a good night, you two,” Blitzo said with a sigh. “Thank you so much, Blitz!” Millie said happily trying to lead Moxxie away before he stopped and looked back. “Blitzo?” Moxxie said, prompting Blitzo to look back. “Yeah?” Blitzo asked. “I love you, too,” Moxxie said with a smile. Blitzo’s shocked expression turned into a smile as Millie led Moxxie away and the portal shut behind them.

[greyias]

FIC: Smoke and Mirrors - Chapter 15

Title: Smoke and Mirrors Fandom: SWTOR Pairing: Theron Shan/f!Jedi Knight Rating: T Genre: Pre-Relationship, Slow Burn Synopsis: Something’s rotten on Carrick Station, and Theron won’t rest until he finds out what. But picking at the frayed threads of suspicion quickly unravels a conspiracy much larger than even the Republic’s top spy can handle on his own. (A mostly canon-compliant retelling of the Forged Alliances storyline, as seen through the eyes of Theron Shan.) Author’s Notes and Spoilers: See Chapter 1.

Chapter Index: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | Crossposted to AO3

“Now, to be fair,” Jonas said, holding the glass filled with mostly ice, and a thin layer of Corellian’s finest up to the rapidly purpling bruise on his face, “no one could have seen this happening.”

Theron glared across the table at his fellow agent before promptly knocking back a shot of the most expensive whiskey he could find on the bar’s menu, since Jonas was now most definitely picking up the tab. The alcohol stung against his split lip, but he just glared through the discomfort, focusing all of his ire on the man in front of him. “I should have. You should have. And apparently the surliest Houk this side of Tatooine did.”

“I’ll have you know, my Sabacc deck is perfectly legal in just about every circle the game is played.”

“Except apparently the Dealer’s Den,” Theron said sourly.

“This is a much nicer cantina anyway,” Jonas sniffed.

“The nice cantinas turned us away.”

“Yes, but this place has character. You just don’t get that these days.”

“I’m never drinking with you again.”

“Never say never.”

“Never,” Theron said emphatically.

“Well, in that case,” Jonas gave out a dramatic sigh, “if this is our last drink together ever, we might as well make it a good one. Bartender, two Whyren’s Reserve, neat.”

The bartender just laughed. “You’re a riot, kid!”

“Okay, then just another round of the best of whatever won’t kill us in one sip.”

“So two more of what you’re having right now?”

“Yes, extra ice please.”

“You really know how to treat a guy, Balkar.” Theron rolled his eyes.

“Has anyone ever told you that you need to lighten up?”

“This one guy, but he keeps getting my face punched in. So I don’t think I should listen to him.”

“I’m just keeping your life exciting.”

“My life was already exciting. And somehow, filled with less bruises.”

“Now that’s a lie.” Jonas took a sip from his drink, getting just the smallest dregs of whiskey through the thick layer of ice. “Half of the times that I’ve seen you your face has looked like some abstract art concept.”

“Um, thanks?”

“To be honest, I’m surprised I was able to recognize you today, what with the lack of blood stains and black eyes. This look now is more you.”

“I do not get injured that often,” Theron said testily, then added a muttered, “and I just haven’t gotten a lot of field work lately.”

“Yeah, promotions suck.” The sarcasm practically dripped from the other agent’s voice. “Although, you have to admit, you’ve been keeping some awful interesting company lately.”

Theron slid a glance up from his glass to see a grin on the other man’s face, rather than the frown that he had expected. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Well, I know for a fact you were involved with the Tython op.” Jonas picked up his glass, and swirled around the ice cubes and minuscule amounts of whiskey. He went to take a sip and frowned when nothing came out. “And also saw that the Jedi’s poster girl was the main operative there.”

“Oh. Her.”

“Thought that I’d get more of a reaction than that, but I forgot who I was talking to for a moment.”

Their conversation paused as the bartender sat two more glasses down at the table, and Theron quickly reached across the table and grabbed the one filled to the brim, leaving the one that was mostly frozen water for his companion.

“Hey—”

“You wanted the ice. I prefer to actually taste the alcohol.”

“Why do I ever take you drinking? Those damn implants make it nearly impossible to get you drunk.”

“That’s the point.”

“You’re an expensive date is all I’m saying,” Jonas grabbed his own glass and pulled it back, “and all I get from the deal is sass.”

“Then stop inviting me.”

“Invitation means someone accepts without being forced out the door. Seriously, you’re more trouble than you’re worth at times.”

“I think you just want a human shield when the punches start flying.”

“Well, that too.” Jonas raised his glass and paused before taking a sip. “And that’s all you’re going to say about the Jedi?”

“What else is there to say?”

“From the way Fauler and the others keep going on whenever they pull her in on ops, I figured there’d be something noteworthy, even from you.”

“Why do you care?” Theron asked, tracing the rim of his glass with a finger. “Angling for an introduction?”

“Just wondering if I should keep the name in mind for future ops is all.”

“I thought Havoc was your go-to squad,” Theron mused. “Or is the Major not picking up your holocalls anymore?”

“I like to have extra options,” Jonas said lightly, “you never know when you might need a Jedi to open a few doors. With the Force. She’s pretty, right?”

“She’s a Jedi.”

“Yes, and some of us don’t hold that against them.” Jonas looked thoughtful. “Pretty sure I could charm even a Jedi.”

“Pretty sure she’d just kick your ass if you tried to put the moves on her.” Theron’s finger stilled as he narrowed an eyebrow. 

“Hmm, maybe not my type then,” the other man flashed him a wide grin, “although that’s what you like, isn’t it?”

“There’s not enough whiskey in this bar to get me to answer that.”

“Hey, just saying I haven’t seen you with anyone who couldn’t easily kill you without a second thought. You really ought to lighten up, in every aspect of your life.”

“You haven’t seen me with anyone,” Theron corrected. “Some of us like to be a bit more discreet than you.”

“Oh, drink your whiskey, sourpuss. It costs a small fortune to go out with you.”

“Maybe if you stopped using my face as shield for incoming fists then you wouldn’t feel so guilty that you wind up paying for drinks for the rest of the night.”

“Maybe if you stopped jumping in front of the incoming fists you’d have a few less black eyes,” Jonas shot back. “But point taken.”

Theron let his gaze drop back down to the overly full glass. He eyed the amount of alcohol and weighed it in his mind against the amount his implants could easily dampen the effects of. It would help dull some of the pain of his bruises, but he could easily shove that aside with a few tricks from his childhood training. The fact that he still needed to check into what Darok was up to on Carrick Station had been at the back of his mind for the whole evening, but he couldn’t exactly start that delicate of a slicing job while Jonas was watching.

He reached across the table and swiped Jonas’s glass of ice and poured about half the contents of his glass in, before returning it to the other side of the table. His fellow agent raised an eyebrow at him curiously.

“Getting sentimental on me, Shan?”

“Figured you haven’t looked in a mirror yet, so that’s just to help soften the blow.”

“I’m sure I look dashing still.” Jonas accepted the glass though. “You seem more sullen than usual tonight. Something up?”

“No,” he said and quickly took a sip from his glass, “just trying to sort through this mess from Tython.”

“Yeah,” the usually cheery demeanor slipped away then, and a shadow of Jonas’s real face surfaced for just a moment, “I’m still trying to wrap my head around it. Thought we had the Imps on the run, then this…”

Theron nodded, eyeing the other agent over the rim of his glass. It was probably the alcohol, but he found himself asking. “You haven’t seen or heard anything… weird lately, right?”

“Weird?” Jonas snapped out of his reverie, and gave Theron a look. “You’re going to have to be more specific, considering the galaxy we both live in.”

“Never mind,” Theron muttered into his next sip of whiskey. “Forget I asked.”

The other man frowned, eyeing his fellow agent speculatively. “I haven’t seen anything that’s caught my attention, if that’s what you’re asking. Should I be looking?”

“I don’t know.” He set his glass down a little harshly, the clunk of the impact sounding louder to his own ears. “It’s probably nothing.”

“I’ll keep an eye out,” Jonas said quietly. “If anything pops that doesn’t fit, I’ll let you know.”

Theron nodded. He didn’t want to bring Jonas into this thing, hell, it was bad enough he’d recruited one of the most famous Jedi in the Order on his paranoid hunt. Wrangling her was proving difficult enough, and he really didn’t want to to add Jonas and his questionable “charm” into the mix. An extra set of eyes on the official investigation for the odd bit that didn’t fit couldn’t hurt anything. It probably wouldn’t be enough to catch Darok officially, but it couldn’t hurt either.

Jonas raised his glass for a toast, and Theron begrudgingly raised his as well. There would be no slicing tonight it seemed.

“To Tython,” Jonas said.

“To Tython,” Theron echoed, and then mentally added. You bastards are going to pay.

[takonei]

Beta AU - Main story, Chapter 2, daily life (Part 2)

Note of the author: Fun fact! This was one of the first scenes I imagined when I was making this AU. This is where the fun begins. :)

Chapter 2: The wolf and the lamb - Daily life

Day 6 since the beginning of the game. 7:30 AM.

Shuichi felt like he slept better than the previous night. The sun was shining through the window, it was enough to wake him up. He rubbed his eyes and glanced around his room, looking at nothing in particular.

It was then that he noticed something on the table of his room. A colorful pad that didn’t look like his monopad.

He took the tablet to take a look at it. There was written “Kubs pad” on the back. He frowned, and when he touched the screen, the tablet lightened up and a video started playing.

On the screen he could recognize his own silhouette on a teal-blue background, with written in flashy letters:

Shuichi Saihara’s Motive video What is your motive!?

And Monokuma’s voice talking cheerfully. “Alright! Back by popular demand, it’s time for the motive video! Who’s the most imp-”

Shuichi turned off the tablet. He stared at the turned off gadget with wide eyes.

“What even was that?” he asked himself. Perhaps talking to the others about it would be a good idea.

He got dressed up, put the strange tablet in his pocket and left his room.

Keebo was in the hallway, with a similar tablet in his hand.

“Hello Shuichi. Nice to see you up.”

Shuichi’s eyes were still on the tablet. “You got one of these too?”

Keebo looked at the item. “Yes, it was on the table this morning, when I was done charging. However I turned it off when I saw ‘motive video’.”

The other boy sighed in relief. “I’m not alone then.”

The two went to the dining hall. Tsumugi, Korekiyo, Kirumi, Ryoma and Rantaro were already here. There was a pile of 5 of those tablets on the table.

Korekiyo sipped his tea and put down his cup. “You also had those ‘motive videos’ I see.”

Keebo showed his’. “I can see that you gathered the tablets. Do we have to put them here?”

Rantaro shrugged. “The others didn’t watch theirs either, so for now we’re putting them here until we decide what to do with them.”

Ryoma was tapping his fingers on the table. “Kokichi went back to his dorm to get his. Speaking of which...”

The small boy appeared with his tablet. “I got it.”

The three put their tablets with the others. All they could do was wait for the others.

Shuichi wasn’t too much in the mood to talk, so he listened to the nearby conversations. Maki was talking about how she thought she had a strange dream but didn’t remember any of it, Ryoma and Rantaro were talking about the latter’s lab and Kirumi was telling Keebo about traditional meals she learned to cook for her job.

About 15 minutes after the morning announcement, everyone was there, and all of the tablets were reunited.

Angie was swinging her legs under the table. “Shall we watch all those videos together? At least we’re sure no one hides anything from anyone!”

Kirumi was visibly not pleased. “If those videos are about the most important people in our lives, watching them would mean falling into Monokuma’s trap.”

Ryoma looked up to the maid. “Stop sugarcoating this. I’m sure at least one of us already watched their video and decided to pretend they didn’t.”

Kokichi’s voice was almost unheard. “I would still like some privacy...”

Everyone started debating. Rantaro suddenly got up and asked for everyone’s attention.

“I understand some of us want some privacy about our personal lives, but those videos will probably make us remember important elements from our past and perhaps the Ultimate hunt, and we can’t exactly completely ignore them.”

He continued. “I discussed the issue with Korekiyo to know what could be a good compromise to reach. Some of us would like to keep their life private, which I understand perfectly, since we didn’t live through the same things. However it is a risk we have to take if we want to recover at least a bit of our own memories.” 

Kirumi raised an eyebrow. “So? What is this solution you suggest?”

Korekiyo responded. “We create groups of 3 or 4 people trusting each other enough to show their videos to the group. We fix a moment to watch those videos, and after that no one is allowed to talk to anyone outside their group about what they saw in the others’ video. Of course you can show your own video to the rest of us if you want to.”

Shuichi put a finger on his chin. That sounded like a doable plan. He didn’t have much to hide, but he hoped the more reserved people were okay with this.

“Do any of you have any objections? Please speak up if that’s the case. I wish to hear the opinion of everyone.” Rantaro’s voice sounded gentle yet confident. Shuichi would be lying if he said he didn’t envy him.

For about ten seconds everyone just glanced at each other. From Shuichi’s point of view, Kirumi and Kokichi were not comfortable, but were not saying anything. That, of course, didn’t stay undetected by the medic.

“Kirumi, do you wish to say anything?” he asked.

She sighed. “I would very much like my personal life not to be revealed to anyone, but I suppose I don’t have a choice.”

Rantaro fidgeted with his necklace. “Unfortunately it wouldn’t be fair to ask everyone else to reveal it and let one person watch the video by themselves. We established the rule that no one in the group was allowed to talk about what they saw in the others’ video outside of their group.”

Everyone was staring at her at this point. “Fine. I accept.”

“What about you, Kokichi?” Rantaro asked.

The small teen got startled. “Oh, it’s just um... Do we really get to choose the groups?”

He smiled. “Yes, we’ll just try to make sure the groups are composed of 3 or 4 people of our choice.”

Himiko gave him a pat in the back. “If you want we can be together in a group, we just need someone else!”

He smiled faintly. “I... I accept, then.”

Rantaro exhaled a breath and smiled at the group. “At least we’re getting somewhere.”

It took them a while to decide, but the groups were formed.

The first group were Shuichi, Kaito, Miu and Korekiyo.

The second group were Kokichi, Himiko and Rantaro.

The third group were Ryoma, Kirumi and Keebo.

And the last group were Maki, Kaede, Tsumugi and Angie.

They decided to watch the videos the next day morning, to leave the groups more time to get to know each other better.

At least they managed to get through this, for now. Kaito asked where the tablets would go, in case someone tried to watch their video.

They decided to lock all the tablets in Rantaro’s lab. Since a majority of them trusted him, he was chosen to keep the key to the lab.

~ Time skip, my old friend ~

5 PM.

Shuichi couldn’t help but think about the motive videos Monokuma gave them this morning.

After spending some time alone in his lab, he decided to go outside for a bit. He came across Kokichi carrying a small bag and Himiko without her coat on, the cloth rather used like some sort of bag.

“Oh, hey Shuichi!” Himiko joyfully said.

Shuichi blinked in confusion. “What are you two doing?”

“We were with Kaede yesterday at the casino and somehow the machine we were playing with broke and gave us a ton of monocoins! So we’re using them.”

Kokichi scratched his neck. “I feel like I’m to blame for this...”

She giggled. “Don’t be sorry, we got all these cool items, and since the MonoMono machine broke as well we got to keep the coins we used!”

The smaller boy was embarrassed by the events that happened, but he didn’t look really sad about it.

“I mean Kaede got a ton of coins too, I think she bought some sort of key?” she shrugged. “I didn’t pay too much attention to it.”

Shuichi knew exactly what she meant, but preferred to stay silent about it.

“So you guys got all of those items from the MonoMono machine for free?”

Himiko smiled with glee. “Yup! And it was things either I or Kokichi liked! Cool, right?” she elbowed him.

Kokichi stuttered. “R-Right...”

The two went their way and Himiko waved at Shuichi. “See ya later!”

He didn’t really know what to do before dinner, so he joined Rantaro outside. They talked for a while before Kaito approached them.

“I was looking for you two!”

Shuichi blinked. “Do you need us for something, Kaito?”

“We’re gonna have drinks at the pool, wanna come?”

Rantaro got up and brushed off the dirt on his coat. “That would be nice. Who will be there?”

The biker looked enthusiastic. “There will be Miu, you two and I. Oh and Kiyo decided to join in as well.”

Shuichi sighed in relief. At least it wasn’t too much of a big thing. Not that he hated the others, but a hang-out session with a few “close” friends felt more comfortable for him than a giant party.

They walked to the pool and saw Kirumi and Miu holding drinks entering the building.

“Oh, Kirumi is joining too?” Shuichi asked.

Kaito shrugged. “We simply asked her to help us with the drinks, I don’t think she is gonna stay though.”

When they opened the door, the two young women were setting the drinks and snacks at the table.

Miu waved at them. “So you guys came, huh?”

Rantaro smiled. “I figured it would be nice to chat as a group of friends, so yeah.”

Kiyo was observing the pool area. Rantaro called him so they could sit down and chat.

Kirumi left, saying she didn’t want to disrupt their group, and that her task was done.

The drinks had bright colors, but that was to be expected by cocktails. Korekiyo took the glass in his hands to observe the gradient.

“We really should thank Kirumi for her hard work preparing these.”

Kaito laughed. “But hey, we won’t know if they’re good unless we drink!”

They all cheered, to forget about the killing game just for a few minutes.

Shuichi approached the drink to his nose to smell it. The alcohol smell was strong, but the fruit smell was able to cover it up a little.

He looked at the others, they hadn’t touched their drink yet. Rantaro and Korekiyo were talking about the pool area’s aesthetic, but Miu was looking at her drink with unease, and just when he was about to ask her what was wrong, her gaze shifted to Kaito approaching the glass to his lips.

It felt so sudden. Miu got up, slammed her hands on the table and yelled.

“DON’T DRINK THIS, IT’S POISONED!!”

The rest of the group was startled by the sudden reaction, especially Kaito, whose eyes shifted from the drink to his best friend, who had tears in the corner of her eyes and was visibly trembling.

There was a small moment of silence that felt like an eternity.

Rantaro was confused, but managed to mumble out “What are you-”

(BGM)

He didn’t finish his sentence when Miu abruptly sat back on her chair, elbows on the table and her hands covering her face. She broke down in tears, mumbling things to herself.

“I’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry-”

Kaito spoke up reluctantly. “Miu… What… How did you…”

The grip she had on her hair tightened. She looked like she wanted to be anywhere but here.

The boys looked at each other. No one really knew what to say. Rantaro smelled the drink and frowned. He made the others understand that it was definitely not alcohol for a cocktail.

Kiyo took a deep breath and set the glass down.

“Should we assume you are the one responsible for this?”

Miu’s head slowly fell down on the table, arms crossed to cover her head, and nails digging in her skin. She was still shaking and sobbing to herself, but she nodded.

“I’m… I…”

Shuichi was still trying to process what just happened. Did Miu just try to kill them? Rantaro looked pensive, Kiyo was silently observing the crying Miu and Kaito was shocked, to say the least. Shuichi felt bad, that must have felt like a huge betrayal for him. His best friend trying to kill him, and even if she seemed to regret it, the will to kill was there. In those colorful glasses.

It took her a while to even begin to calm down and cease the tear-filled muttering. When she raised her head just out of her arms, Shuichi noticed a part of her make up was smudged and her eyes were red. She didn’t even dare to look at any of them.

Since the others had been silent, Rantaro asked her the question everyone wanted to ask.

“Why…?”

She flinched at the question.

“I… Kaz… I’m- I’m sorry-”

She couldn’t even form a single sentence correctly through her sobs.

“Kaz… Would have never wanted this… What am I doing...?”

Korekiyo stayed calm and tried to interrogate her despite her current state. “Would you please tell us who is ‘Kaz’?”

She tried to recompose herself, unsuccessfully.

“Kaz…”

She rubbed her eyes.

“He’s- He’s my son- I watched my motive video this morning and I saw him and I knew I had to escape to protect him and I saw my chance with my lab opened and and-”

She was just rambling at this point. Kiyo told her to calm down one last time, but that made her completely enraged.

“HOW CAN YOU TAKE THIS SO LIGHTLY?? I TRIED TO KILL YOU ALL!!” she yelled at no one in particular, getting up from her chair, still in a panicked state.

“I-I-I tried to kill you all with homemade poison from my lab I organized this whole party to kill you and blame it on Kirumi and-and I didn’t even hesitate to do so because I watched my motive video and lied to you all but I just want to see my son again he needs me and I miss his precious face and and and-”

Tears were running down her face. She had completely broken down.

Kaito tried to get her attention but that turned out pretty unsuccessful.

“Miu, calm down! Look at me-”

“HE WOULD HAVE NEVER WANTED ME TO KILL ANY OF YOU!!”

Silence filled the building once again.

She fell on her knees and laughed to herself.

“What am I doing…?”

Kaito got up from his seat and got down to face Miu. He put his hands on her shoulders.

“This… Is a lot for me to take in, I will admit. To think my best friend tried to kill me.”

She winced at the last sentence.

“But that best friend also backed down and regrets what she has done. She did this for her family, and even though it will take a while for us to completely get over this, I can’t blame you for wanting to fight for your family.”

She looked up to him, but that didn’t seem to reassure her very much.

Shuichi himself was a bit doubtful by the statement. Of course the one to blame would be Monokuma and the mastermind for putting them through this but… At the same time he can’t help but feel like Miu really was responsible for this incident.

Kiyo seemed to be thinking. “I don’t think you are entirely to blame, but you still had your part in this. I think the best option would be to talk about this once all of us managed to stand back from the situation.”

Rantaro hadn’t say a thing. He didn’t look mad but he was certainly not happy.

Miu wiped away her tears. “I… I know this may sound selfish but…”

Rantaro turned to her.

“Can we… Keep this between us? I know I don’t deserve it but please…”

The others glanced at each other. Rantaro was stirring his glass. “What do you think, Shuichi? You’ve been quiet for a while.”

He was startled by Rantaro’s sudden question. His gaze wasn’t making things better either. “I- uh….” he paused. “I think… We should at least make sure the products used for this are taken away and the poison destroyed.”

Rantaro nodded. Shuichi turned to Kiyo. “And Kiyo’s right. I think it should be better not to make anym- any bad decisions with emotions taking control of us.”

Miu, sitting on the ground, clenched the trembling fists resting on her legs, tears filling her eyes even more. Those same emotions pushed her to act this way, and saying this just reminded her of her lack of self-control.

Rantaro stared at her for a few seconds before turning to the rest of the group. “So to sum this incident up, we keep quiet about this for now, destroy the materials and wait for tomorrow to decide what we do?”

The others nodded. Rantaro got up from his chair and briefly looked at the two best friends before turning to Shuichi.

“Us two should go to Miu’s lab to get rid of the materials. You okay with this Miu?”

Her eyes didn’t even move. She simply muttered. “Yes. Do what must be done. That’s… What I deserve at the very least.”

He gestured to Shuichi that they should go and leave them alone for now. The blue-eyed boy turned back to Miu one last time to see her wiping her tears with Kaito at her side.

They closed the door and headed to the lab. They had so many questions but both knew it would be better to wait for the next day to ask her about it. Or maybe Korekiyo, who stayed at the pool, would probably be able to get to know what was going on with her.

-

The walk was silent, just like the time the two were meeting the other ultimates about a week ago. But it felt different. They had just escaped death because their attacker didn’t manage to get through her plan. She was so close, if she reacted just a few seconds later and the situation would have been a disaster.

“Hey…” Shuichi said. Rantaro slightly turned his head.

“What do you think of all this? You didn’t say much back then…”

His friend took a few seconds to think about an answer. Or more likely, to wonder if his thoughts were worth being told.

“What is done, is done. Miu tried to kill us but couldn’t bring herself to actually do it. We’re alive and that’s what matters. We should focus on making sure no one else gets their hands on the poison.”

Shuichi’s eyes widened. He didn’t know what to expect, but it was certainly not this. “You… Actually don’t plan on telling anyone about this?”

“No.” He replied. “The less people know, the better it is. This entire academy reeks distrust and fear of being killed. If we talk about this incident the others will snap just like she did, and some probably won’t back down before actually committing the act.”

“That’s… One way to think.”

But Shuichi remembered what the monokubs said the day before. “But... The monokubs said they would refill products if someone tried to destroy them.”

Rantaro started thinking. “Honestly I don’t think that will be the case for certain situations. But for now just the prepared poison should be destroyed.”

Shuichi hummed in agreement. They were forced to trust Miu not to try anything again. They could only hope Kaito and Korekiyo would be able to calm her down for the time being.

Rantaro turned to him. “Ever wondered how you were able to guide the others during the class trial?”

He had thought about it, it was a bit strange to him. “I don’t really know why. Tsumugi said I was leading the debate but… I’m just an average guy. I’m a violinist, my talent doesn’t even have anything to do with leading. I’m bad at this.”

The green haired boy hummed. “You know, I talked about this with Kiyo, yesterday.”

Shuichi blinked.

“To him it was normal for the others to follow your lead. And I agree with that. I mean…” he chuckled.

“Let’s be honest here. We’re the two leaders of the group, you and I. But my influence is more… Direct. I got the group to cooperate, to get organized, you know the deal.”

“My influence has its limits. I think you realized it by now, but I saw how the others looked at me during the investigation and trial. I’m completely indifferent when it comes to people dying. I’m used to it after all.”

“Even just now, the reason I asked you to say what you think is because they would most likely listen to you.”

Shuichi was confused. “But why?”

“You have that compassion. That innocence the others have. You felt bad for Gonta dying. For Tenko dying. You have that kindness that I lack in those stressful situations. People are more drawn to you because of that natural kindness. That humanity. You can keep calm but still have that feeling of compassion. That’s what the others are looking for in the trials. Someone to relate to, who doesn’t sound and look like an experienced murderer.”

Shuichi was surprised to hear Rantaro talk about himself this way, but it made sense. Of course he wouldn’t try to take advantage of this in the future, however it felt strange to be considered a leader by Rantaro himself.

“That’s what Kiyo told me. That it was more about instinct than a concrete feeling.”

He nodded. Of course the therapist would know what he’s saying. Shuichi had to assume this role as a leader. A role that Rantaro couldn’t fill completely.

Rantaro stopped in his tracks.

“From now on that’s our job to keep this group together. This is gonna be hard, I know, but it’s necessary.”

He fidgeted with his necklace. “Let’s be honest here. We won’t all get out of here alive, and I’m 100% sure another murder will occur in the next few days. But if there’s anything I’m trying to do in those times, it’s to make sure the group doesn’t completely loose it.”

“You and I will be the leaders from now on. So I’m counting on you to help me with this.”

He extended his hand.

“Deal?”

After hesitating, Shuichi shook Rantaro’s hand.

“Deal.”

They arrived at the street artist’s lab. It was time to take away the products, even though they knew she wouldn’t try again after this incident.

It was just to make sure.

They entered the lab. Nothing looked like it had been touched yet from a quick glance, since everything was clean. Rantaro went to the lab bench. That’s when he noticed small droplets of water in some of the glassware.

“That was definitely used recently. At the very least today.”

“Do you think she has more of the poison in the lab?”

Rantaro shook his head. “Even though she planned this in a hurry, she still covered up the evidence. She most likely threw the surplus away. Perhaps...”

He turned to a white plastic bottle labeled “bin”. He grabbed it and stirred it for a few seconds to judge how much liquid was in there.

“There isn’t much, but it’s still something.” Rantaro said as he looked at the sink.

Shuichi frowned. “I know nothing about those products, but there’s a reason it’s kept in a separated bottle, right?”

The green-haired boy sighed. “I know, but it’s either someone gets their hands on this and could try to use it and frame Miu, or we risk polluting who knows where since we don’t know where those pipes lead.”

“Fair point.”

Rantaro poured the transparent liquid into the sink. It’s smell was stronger than the “cocktails” from earlier, most likely because there was fruit juice to cover it.

He went to one of the shelves and opened it to see many bottles labeled as toxic or inflammable. “As for the ingredients we can’t do much because the Monokubs will replace it, right?”

Shuichi nodded. “I don’t know when they’ll replace it, but they will do eventually.”

“I see.” he closed the drawer. “Then there isn’t much to do anymore for now.”

Rantaro didn’t say a thing as he walked to the exit, passing by Shuichi.

“Oh and...” he stopped in his tracks and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Tomorrow you and the rest of your group will watch Miu’s motive video. I’m not supposed to know about this, so from now on pretend this event never happened. I don’t know anything about her motive video and will not know about it unless she talks to me, and make sure to inform the others about this. Got it?”

Shuichi actually got scared by Rantaro’s sudden reaction, but he nodded. “G-Got it.”

Korekiyo entered the room right after.

“I see that you’re done with the ingredients?”

Shuichi approached the two others. “We did what we could do, but if we steal things the monokubs will refill it.”

The tall young adult put a finger on his chin. “I see. I’m also done talking to Miu, she is alone with Kaito as far as I know.”

Rantaro was quick to respond. “So? Has she calmed down?”

“We agreed on doing therapy sessions so she can cope with the situation. But of course that will be after we officially watch her motive video.”

He nodded. “Alright, we’re good to go for now. Oh and-” he turned to Shuichi.

“You two make sure we left nothing in the lab. I got something to check.” he said as he left.

Korekiyo asked if he could take a look at the lab. They stayed in it for a while, searching in every shelf if anything looked like poison.

After about 10 minutes, they left to join the rest of the group. They will have to pretending nothing happened.

They found Kaito and Miu going back to the dorms. Miu seemed to have calmed down enough for now.

Shuichi and Kiyo decided to stay outside to talk about something other than what just happened. Even though Kiyo had a threatening aura, it was pretty relaxing to talk to him.  It’s like you almost wanted to trust him immediately. No wonder he was called the ultimate therapist.

About two hours later, they ate dinner. The atmosphere was tense, mostly because of the upcoming day, but the most cheerful ones were able to bring back a few smiles.

Shuichi decided to take a walk before going to bed. After all tomorrow he would watch Kaito, Korekiyo and of course Miu’s votive videos. He was nervous at the idea of this “motive video compilation”, but it was too late to go back.

But he had a gut feeling this wasn’t going to go as planned. Everything seemed way too convenient.

"You good?”

Shuichi got startled. It was Kaito, right behind him. “Don’t scare me like that...”

He laughed. “Sorry, man.”

Kaito sat down next to Shuichi. “Today was... Special.”

Shuichi nodded. “I don’t really know what to think about this. I don’t even know if I can trust her anymore.”

He nodded in understanding. “We... Talked after Kiyo left. But it’s like I both do and don’t get why she did this.”

“... I think we should let her talk to Kiyo. Either she is genuine in her regret, or Kiyo will be able to tell if she’s lying.”

Kaito leaned back to lay on the grass. “I really want her to say the truth. I want to believe in her.”

Shuichi turned to him. “If it’s not too personal, how did you two become friends so quickly?”

He chuckled. “We’re mutual fans, y’know? I’ve been admiring her work ever since she started and she is a fan of the family! We knew each other’s names and when we met here, it just sort of clicked.”

The violinist raised an eyebrow. “The family? Is she your long lost sister?”

“Haha, no! That’s how I call the gang. They’re like family, but like a man family. They taught me everything I know. I may have missing memories, but I never forget the family.”

Shuichi weakly smiled. “Man family? What is that supposed to mean?”

“We’re all men in the gang. It’s kinda like a rule. And if you’re not a man, then become one." He chuckled. “Manliest shit I’ve ever seen.”

Shuichi blinked. Perhaps he didn’t want to know more about the gang, considering that he is not exactly the definition of a ‘man’. But if Kaito considered them his family, then good for him.

The two went their ways, to their dorms. And hopefully wake up mentally prepared to watch those motive videos.

[twistedwonderlandimagines]

Halloween Preparations

Well, it’s time for the Halloween special. Crowley decides to pair the dorms together and put each group in charge of planning for one part of the holiday.

---

Trey attempted to calm Idia with a pat on the shoulder as Riddle went on another tirade. The Ignihyde dorm leader was shaking, not used to interacting with someone as aggressive as Riddle (or anyone, for that matter).

“I don’t see why the pumpkins should be orange,” Riddle insisted. “They look far nicer in red!”

“Well, then we’ll give everyone the option of painting their pumpkins after they carve them!” Cater said cheerfully, trying to calm Riddle’s temper. “And if you prefer them in red, you can paint yours red...”

Event planning would have been so much easier if Crowley had just let Idia do it by himself.

“Mister Riddle!” Ortho called, “I finished setting up the projector for the movies!”

“Perfect,” Riddle said with a smile. “At least someone in this group is competent. And did you get all the movies from my list?”

“Yep! Everything’s ready for scary movie night!”

Cater sighed in relief. At least the first year seemed to be able to calm their dorm leader.

“Wait, where is Ace?” Deuce asked before Cater slapped a hand over his mouth.

“Do NOT set Riddle off again!” Cater whispered. “Ace probably couldn’t take it and decided to escape, and we should be happy for him, not have Riddle send out a hunting party!”

Deuce nodded, a bit jealous that his rival was able to escape.

---

“He’s been going off about the color of the pumpkins all day,” Ace sighed, hanging up rubber spiders.

“What kind of pumpkin isn’t orange?” Floyd grumbled. “I swear, if I show up for pumpkin carving and they’re red, I’m starting my own pumpkin carving booth!”

“Riddle’s head would explode!” Ace commented, laughing at the mental image of Riddle’s reaction.

“Speaking of Riddle,” Jamil spoke up, addressing the twins, “Where’s your dorm leader? He said he’d be here an hour ago.”

“Eh,” Jade replied, “He said something about decorating the whole campus to be ‘drudgery.’ So he stayed back at the cafe. Where’s your dorm leader?”

“He’s...” Jamil froze. “Ace! Did you see Kalim leave?”

“Uh, yeah. He headed back to Scarabia to pick up a few things.”

“Dammit,” Jamil groaned. “He’s going to get lost. I’m going to go find him... And you two,” he added, glaring at the twins, “Go get Azul and bring him back here, or I’ll drag him here myself.”

“Psh. Why should we do anything you tell us to do?” Floyd chuckled.

Jamil paused... and smiled. “Why don’t skeletons ever go trick-or-treating?”

Both of the twins froze in horror... 

“Right on it, Mr. Viper!” Jade answered, scrambling for the door.

“Yeah, Azul will be here when you get back!” Floyd added, sprinting down the hall with his brother.

“I could get used to that,” Jamil smirked. “Ace, I’ll be back with Kalim as soon as I can.”

---

“I still don’t know why Crowley put us in charge of food and drink,” Leona groaned. “I can’t cook, and I’m willing to bet you sure as hell can’t either.”

“He put us in charge of food,” Vil sighed, “Because I’m an amazing chef, and because he had nowhere else to put you Savanaclaw heathens.”

“I’m just wondering why he didn’t put Octavinelle on catering duty.”

Vil shuddered as he remembered last year’s Halloween. “Because last year they enchanted the food to convince people to sign more contracts.”

“Never would have suspected it,” Rook sighed, interrupting. “But anyway, was it two or three cups of sugar, Vil?”

“Two.”

“Put in three,” Leona commented.

“You’re a cat! You can’t even taste sweet things!”

“Excuse you, I’m more human than lion!”

Rook sighed as their bickering continued, and turned his attention to Jack, who was quietly making popcorn balls away from the commotion.

“Where’s Zahir?”

“Not here. Shouldn’t you be more worried about your missing dorm member? Epel?”

“He’s not missing! He’s off with that Ruggie boy,” Rook huffed. “And our dorm leaders are already giving me a headache without bringing up those two.”

The door opened, and Zahir stepped into the kitchen, locking eyes with Rook.

The blond lion turned to leave, before Rook grabbed his arm and dipped him so low that his hair brushed the floor. “My dearest Zahir! How I have missed your company~!”

Zahir looked up at Jack from his rather embarrassing position. “Please kill me.”

Jack went back to his cooking, ignoring Zahir’s request.

Rook pressed a bit of red velvet cake to Zahir’s lips. “I pilfered a little cake for you! I heard you like red velvet~!”

He glared at Rook. “If I eat it, will you let me go?”

Rook only smiled that infuriating smile.

“Rook, leave the mongrel alone!” Vil called from the other side of the kitchen.

Sighing, Rook pulled Zahir back up to standing, putting the cake in his hand. “Oh, why must he ruin our time together~?”

Vil rolled his eyes, turning back to the cupcakes he’d pulled out of the oven just five minutes ago.

Three were missing. Two of them were in Leona’s hands, and he last was being scarfed down by the Savanaclaw dorm leader.

“I’m a bad chef, am I?”

---

The Diasomnia dorm arrived at Mortercitus, which was already being decorated as the haunted house.

Arawn greeted them without enthusiasm, not looking up from his clipboard.

“Where’s your gross dorm leader?” Lilia asked.

Arawn groaned, rubbing his temples. “Whatever you do, don’t bother him, Vanrouge. I’ve had enough anxiety today as is.”

“You’re no fun.” Lilia rolled his eyes, pulled out a bag of candy, and went to watch everyone from the corner. 

“Where is Deidrick?” Malleus inquired.

“He’s in his library,” Arawn sighed. “I wouldn’t go up there by myself though. He’s not expecting you to arrive for another hour.”

Malleus sighed. “Well, someone needs to go get him.”

“I’ll go!” Sebek volunteered.

“No, I can do it. Besides, I have the best chance of coming back unharmed.”

Malleus entered the huge castle, taking in the atmosphere. The Mortercitus common room was at least three times as large as Diasomnia’s... It was beautiful, but it felt rather lonely.

Everything was ornate and well-designed. The furniture was expensive yet obviously comfortable, the floor was black marble, and chandeliers hung from what must have been at least a thirty foot high ceiling.

Though, disturbingly, there were skeletons standing on the sides of the room, wearing suits of black armor and holding real weapons.

Knowing Deidrick’s taste in decor, Malleus guessed they were real.

And that’s when something crashed into his back, sending him crashing to the floor.

Whatever had hit him screeched and scrambled across the room.

“Draconia, are you hurt?”

Malleus looked up at a disheveled-looking Deidrick Morkond. “I’m fine. What was that?”

Deidrick cleared his throat. “Well... As long as you don’t tell the headmaster...”

Malleus sighed, holding out a hand for Deidrick to help him off the floor. The other dorm leader took him by the arm, pulling up up off the black marble.

“Alright, I won’t tell Crowley.”

“Thank you... It’s an imp.”

“You summoned a demon?” Malleus asked, eyes widening. “Is this some kind of Halloween trick?”

“No, no...” Deidrick mumbled. “I only meant to study it. You know I’m always looking for new information to add to my library.”

“Should I help...?”

“No, I have security measures for this sort of thing,” Deidrick said, then snapped his fingers. 

At his order, the skeletons around the room animated, following the path of the imp. Deidrick smirked as Malleus’s eyes widened, proud of his skill in necromancy. 

“I trust you won’t share that information with Crowley? Or worse yet, Vanrouge?”

Malleus cleared his throat, opening the door to leave. “Let’s just... Get to the haunted house.”