#Phoenix x Original character

[baby-girl-e]

Their Legacy

Characters - Iceman x Maverick, Original Female character x Phoenix, Rooster, Dagger squad, Original Male character

Summary - Elizabeth Kazansky-Mitchell is a great combination of her two fathers, if the Navy doesn’t see it that way well… that’s their problem.

Or Tom and Pete raise Tom’s niece and she turns out exactly as you’d expect a Kazansky to in such close proximity to Maverick and his adoptive son Bradley.

Word Count - 5k

Warnings - brief mention of a death resulting in an adoption

A/N - I really shouldn’t be starting another series right now given the two I’ve been neglecting, but I can’t help myself! I hope you like this one, and I would appreciate it if you’d let me know if you want a part two! (I’m planning one, I just want to see how this is received!) You can also listen to the Spotify playlist I made for Elizabeth here!

Listen. While legally Elizabeth's last name was Kazansky, there were some consequences of her being raised in such close proximity to Pete Mitchell. Okay, maybe ‘close proximity’ was underselling it. The better definition would be, he was her other father. Just not on paper until 2015. From an early age she was taught that she could call Tom ‘Dad’ in public but she had to refer to her Papa as ‘Uncle Pete’. Neither of them were her biological parents, but she was only an infant when her mother, Tom’s sister, died in a car accident. Her biological father was never known, not even to her biological mother. This could all sound like some massive tragedy, and it was to her Dad when he lost his sister, but to Elizabeth? She had nothing but an amazing childhood. Two whole dads that loved her and even an older brother until he left when she was only five. Bradley was a very touchy subject in the Kazansky-Mitchell household, her dad’s loved their son, but they ultimately had to respect his mother’s wishes to at least try and keep him out of the sky. Try being the key word. It became even more touchy when Liz expressed interest in flying to her dad’s. They were incredibly supportive of her career and even helped her with her application to Annapolis. One of the benefits of Liz only bearing her Dad’s last name was that she had no problem getting in. If she had started her career in the Navy with both dad’s last names like she wanted, she might’ve had a bit more trouble given her Papa’s reputation. 

The minute she climbed into that cockpit for the first time was when the consequences of being raised by Maverick Mitchell really started to show. Sure she was a bit of a rebellious teenager, but ultimately her Kazansky blood got the best of her and forced her into rule following. But something about the sky threw away all of her Dad’s genetics and she was all Mitchell. To her credit she didn’t break a ton of rules, just a tower buzz here and there. Did she flirt heavily with the hard deck? Absolutely. When her dad got a call about her flying style from her TOP GUN instructor (not that she was in trouble, but the Instructor was one Captain Sam ‘Merlin’ Wells and he and her parents were still very close.) her dad knew he was in trouble. “Tom, it’s like there’s two of them. I’ve flown with Mav way too many times, that was all him up there.” Sitting outside of Uncle Merlin’s office she couldn’t hear her dad but she could bet that he was in his signature “are you fucking kidding me Mitchell” pose that consited of a sigh and fingers on his sinuses. Soon enough the conversation was over and she was called into his office. Now, once again, she wasn’t in trouble. She was the one who had asked to talk to her Uncle. “Lizzy. Great to see you!” During class and everywhere there were other Navy people she was always very professional with him and all of her numerous uncles, but in the privacy of his office she let herself have this one hug. “Thank you for seeing me, Uncle Merlin. I had something I wanted to discuss with you.” He smiled and went to sit behind his desk, sensing this was more business than personal. “Anything for my favorite niece. I was actually just on the phone with your dad, telling him all about your inherited ‘Mitchell Mayhem’.” 

The term was coined mostly by him, Uncle Sli, and her dad, always sure to get an eye roll out of her Papa. “Actually sir, that's kinda what I came to talk to you about. As you know, my last name has legally been ‘Kazansky-Mitchell’ since 2015 when my dad’s got married and Paps legally adopted me. But I’ve kept my last name with the Navy just Kazansky for obvious reasons with getting into the academy.” Sam nods his head in understanding. It’s unfortunate, but who you know is a big deal in the Navy, and while her dad’s were out and proud by the time she joined, they didn’t need a formal reminder of her more rebellious father anytime she was transferred to another carrier or a new squadron. “Well I was thinking that since I’m at the height of my career here at TOP GUN, there’s really no point in hiding my real last name anymore. So…” She pulls out the papers she was clutching to like a lifeline and hands them to her Uncle. “I talked with Uncle Sli and he helped me get my name officially updated in the Navy records without my Dad’s knowing. I already have a new patch ready to go, I just need you to know so when I win the TOP GUN trophy it’ll have my real name on it.” 

Sam’s eyes went from sentimental and heartwarming to being utterly appalled within seconds. “And what makes you think the trophy is yours little miss?” Another nickname coined by her uncles. “Well my callsign isn’t ‘Legacy’ for nothing sir. I was taught by the best, yourself included.” He just shakes his head and laughs softly. “Flattery will get you everywhere my dear. I will make sure that our records are accurate so that if you win the trophy, you’ll have your real name on it.” She smiles and moves to stand. “Thank you sir.” Sam walks her to the door but stops before they open it. “Any reason we’re keeping this from your dad’s?” That was a thing she was grateful for having all her uncles in the Navy, if she really wanted to, she could hide a choice few things from her dads. “I want it to be a surprise at graduation. Thought it was finally time for Paps name to be on that plaque.” Sams sentimental smile was back and he was giving her a heartwarming hug. “You’re a good kid, you know that? Even if you fly like a Mitchell.” She opens the door and just before she leaves she turns back to her uncle to say, “It’s because I am one sir.” And dammit if that didn’t make Merlin tear up just a little. 

                               ///

When she got back to her locker she decided that now that it was official it was okay to pull out the new patch Uncle Sli had made for her. She palmed the small rectangle and smiled. It was a small thing, literally, but it felt like she was truly being herself now. The only other person who she really talked about her family to was her RIO Jake ‘Thunder’ Thompson, and even he didn’t really bring them up a lot. She appreciated the effort, she was already under enough of a microscope from everyone else. She peels back the velcro on the nametag that was already on her flight suit and replaced it with the new one that read ‘ELIZABETH ‘LEGACY’ KAZANSKY-MITCHELL’. Okay that was a bit of a mouthful but she didn’t really care. “Woah, new threads there legacy?” She almost forgot she told jake to hang back and wait for her so they could go to the Hard Deck together. “Yeah, what do you think? Too much?” Jake throws his arm around her shoulder and picks up the flight suit that she had changed out of to inspect it. “No, I think it’s just right Lizzy. Maybe not enough last names what do you think?” She laughs and pushes him away. “You’re such a dick Jakey,” he makes a face at her nickname for him, “yeah it’s a mouthful, but maybe this will make me more intimidating. What do you think?” He shuts her locker for her and throws his arm back around her to steer her through the exit. “You mean more intimidating than your kickass flying and your dad being the COMPACFLT?” She rolls her eyes at him and throws her arm around him too. “Now Jakey, why don’t we go to the Hard Deck and stop talking about my family okay?” It was less than a week until graduation and they only had a few hops left before they knew who was going to take home the trophy. They were currently in the lead, but they knew if they got too cocky they could lose it all. They needed a wind down today especially since they had done hop 31, the same hop that had killed her Paps best friend and Bradley’s dad. She knew her dad’s had been worried about the day, especially Paps, so she shot them both a quick ‘I’m okay’ text the minute she was on solid ground. Still needing convincing, she talked to her Papa for nearly an hour before she went to go talk to Merlin. 

Apparently the whole ‘let's go somewhere to not think about my family’ was just a pipe dream because the minute she and Jake walked in they saw her Paps sitting at the bar. Last she heard he was being reprimanded for crashing a multi million dollar jet somewhere in the middle of nowhere, giving both her and her dad a mini heart attack mind you, and she didn’t expect to see him again for a week at least. “Paps?” Her Papa turned around at his title and his face went from completely drained to instant sunshine at the sight of his daughter. “Fancy meeting you here baby ice.” He was out of his seat in an instant and hugging her tight. She was mad at him for almost getting himself killed and now for the outdated nickname. Bradley hated being called baby goose and she hated being called baby ice, it was a family tradition. But in spite of her mood she was relieved to have a hug from her dad. He turned to hug Jake as well, him becoming part of the family the minute they had become pilot and RIO. Even though there was no attraction whatsoever, they certainly treated Jake like he was their son-in-law. “Paps. What the hell happened out there? Dad said you crashed the ‘darkstar’? What were you thinking going Mach 10.3?” Pete rolls his eyes and sits back down at the bar waving at Penny for another beer. “You sound just like your dad.” That was definitely the quality she got from her dad, while she flew a lot like Maverick, she also inherited her dad's protectiveness over her Paps. “Yeah well he’s not here to chew you out so, I’m the next best thing.” He hugs her at that. “And while nobody appreciates that more than me, your dad actually is here. Came in early from Hawaii because of my little mishap, so you’re welcome.” Only Maverick Mitchell could turn one of his wrongdoings into a reason to thank him. “Yes, thanks for bringing back my favorite dad.” He fakes hurt and clutches his chest at that. “Ouch I’m hurt. After all of the late night ice cream runs without your dad knowing I thought I would get more respect.” Those were some of her favorite memories from her childhood. 

They always did have to sneak in some sugar after hours, Ice wanting to keep them healthy. It was then that they heard a little commotion coming from the pool tables and saw the one and only Bradley Bradshaw approaching the other aviators paying no mind to his family at the bar. “Woah what’s Bradley doing here? Paps, did you know about this?” She turns to her dad and see’s that he’s already trying to hide himself from Bradley. “Yeah sweetheart that’s actually why I’m here. I’m teaching a special ops mission at Miramar and your brother is one of the pilots flying it.” She wasn’t sure how to process that information. On the one hand she was happy at a potential family reunion but on the other hand she knew that both of their personalities were the reason there had been a near 15 year rift between the two. “Does dad know?” Which in hindsight she knew he probably did, he was everyone’s boss. “He’s actually the one that assigned us to the same mission. Thought it would be good for the both of us for some reason.” That was her father indeed. He was always trying to do what he thought was best for his loved ones, that sometimes backfired, but his intentions were always pure. “Figures I guess. Well, I think I’m going to go talk to him. It’s been forever.” Pete looked a little uneasy at her words. 

There was a rift between Bradley and the parents, yes, but after they had allowed her to go to Annapolis and flight school and not him, he had resented her as well. “Are you sure that’s a good idea? Is he still mad at you?” Truth is, she wasn’t sure. The last time she had seen Bradley in the flesh was at her flight school graduation. She had invited him and not expected to see him given both her dad’s would be there, but against all odds he was there. He had successfully avoided the dad’s but still got in a good hug. He had told her then that he was wrong for taking out his anger on her. It wasn’t her fault that they pulled his papers and not hers. He was confused, yes, but not mad at her anymore. “No, we talked back when I graduated flight school, I think we’re cool. You, however, should probably get out of here.” He smiled and gave her a kiss on the cheek and patted Jake on the back. “Well, good luck. I’ll see you back at the house tonight? Please? Your dad is going to want to see you.” She smiles and nods at her Paps. “Yeah I’ll swing by. See you later, love you.” He winks and returns the sentiment before making his exit. “Wow that was… a lot of information. Even for your family.” She lets out a sigh, Jake was right. The Kazansky-Mitchell clan was alway dealing with some sort of drama, but this seemed to be the greatest hits. “Yeah, well that’s us. I’m going to see if Bradley still likes me, wish me luck?” He gives you a pat on the back. “Good luck, need me to come with you?” She shakes her head but gives her friend a grateful smile before heading over to see her brother. It’s at this point she’s glad that she’s wearing her civies, not really feeling in the mood to be proper in her uniform. 

She wipes her hands on her sundress and approaches the group of aviators by the pool table. “Bradley?” The pilot in question turns at the sound of his name. Liz wasn’t entirely sure what she expected his reaction would be but him running to her, picking her up and spinning her around wasn’t one of them. She let out a surprised scream and demanded he let her down. “Lizzy! I didn’t expect to see you here! Are you even old enough to drink?” she rolls her eyes at her big brother, of course he still sees her as a little kid. “I’m 25 now, Bradley. I should be the one shocked that you’re here. I didn’t even know you were stateside.” A pretty brunette to his left chimes in then, “Yeah me too!” Bradley rolls his eyes at the two of them. “Well I’m sorry, next time I am on dry land I’ll send out a PSA. So, what are you doing out here? You're stationed at North Island?” She got slightly giddy at his innocence. She couldn’t wait to tell him that she made it to TOP GUN just like him, his three dads and her two. “I’m actually at TOP GUN, graduation is in a week.” His eyes went wide and he was hugging her again. She got the sense that these hugs were just as much for her as they were for him. “My baby sister at TOP GUN. who would’ve thought! Are you gonna take the trophy you think?” Her cocky pilot brain decided that it was going to answer for her. “Absolutely. That plaques gonna have Kazansky-Mitchell on it for sure!”

 In all her excitement for reuniting with her brother she forgot to not mention Pete to him, even if it was just the name. “Oh, I didn’t know you were going by both at work.” He seemed a little sad, but was obviously putting on a face for his sister's sake. “I wasn’t, but I talked to Uncle Merlin today to have it changed, Sli helped me. I wanted my full name to be on the plaque.” He softened a little at the mention of their uncles. “Well at least you have the confidence part down.” She hears someone clear their throat and they both snap out of their little sibling bubble. “Hey Rooster are you gonna introduce us?” He looked a little embarrassed but recovered quickly. “Yeah sorry, um guys this is my little sister Liz. But some of you may know her as Legacy.” Recognition flashes across a few of their faces but mostly confusion. “Wait you’re Legacy? I’ve heard about you, you’re Kazansky’s kid!” She wasn’t shocked at his words, it was extremely common. “Yeah that’s me, and you are?” He leans in and holds out his hand to shake. “Hangman, at your service.” He was charming, Liz could give him credit for that. Cocky? Yes. But also charming. The pretty brunette from earlier comes into view and suddenly all thoughts of the charming cocky blonde man went right out the window. “I’m Phoenix by the way!” She holds out her hand and Liz shakes it, her hand shaking slightly. See this girl was exactly her type, and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t incredibly attracted to her. “I’m Elizabeth, but you can call me Liz or Legacy even.” Now they were both blushing and still shaking hands. Bradley clears his throat and breaks both Liz and Phoenix out of their reverie. “It’s nice to meet you Liz, my name is Natasha. But you can call me Nat.” Liz smiles, already sensing a little trouble she’s probably going to have with that one. Tearing her eyes away from Nat she turns back to her brother. He introduces her to the rest of the aviators scattered about and she’s met some and heard of others. Bradley takes a second after the introductions are made to pull Liz away from the rest of the group. 

Once the two siblings are reasonably alone Bradley brings up the elephant in the room. “Are your dads around then?” That hurt more than it should’ve, hearing her brother refer to their parents as her dads, and not his. “Yeah they still have the house in fightertown. Dad just got back from Hawaii and Paps is in some hot water as per usual so he’s back from Mojave. Almost died, which is why dad’s back too.” His eyes instinctively widened at hearing about Maverick almost dying. It wasn’t an uncommon experience, but a scary one still that he obviously still feared. Liz also left out the fact that Maverick was indeed back, and Bradley was about to see a whole lot of him very soon. She figured it wasn’t her news to tell. “Are you gonna try to convince me to talk to them?” She laughs, even her persuasiveness wasn’t that effective. “Maybe I would if I thought it would work, but no I won’t. I am headed over there after this if you want to come.” She knew, he knew, the entire Navy knew that he wouldn’t, but still. He breaks up the tension by laughing, “No baby Ice I think I’m good. You have fun though.” She rolls her eyes at the nickname again, two can play at that game. “Well, baby goose you’re missing out. I don’t know if you remember but dad stress bakes and because Paps almost died he’s sure to have made something good.” She wasn’t kidding, the only upside to her other dad almost dying or getting into trouble was there was always some sort of treat afterwards. Not that they were celebrating, it was just her dad's way of coping. It was sweet in a way, another piece of evidence that her parents were soulmates. “While that is tempting I think I’ll still pass. Now if only I had a sister that loved me enough to bring me some.” He fakes looking deep in thought and Legacy punches his arm. “Hey, we’re both at North Island right now, you totally could.” She rolls her eyes, this idiot. “Sure Brad, I’ll bring you some cookies,” he gets excited and goes to interrupt but she isn’t done. “On one condition.” he looks at her expectantly and she lets a smirk take hold of her face. “You give Phoenix my number?” His face falls. “Liz, she’s like my sister, that'd be so weird!” Liz isn’t having any of that and just pats his arm. “And I actually am your sister, look, it doesn’t take a genius to see that she’s hot, I’m hot, it’s a match made in heaven.” 

Bradley lets out a very dramatic sigh that  sounded a lot like a concession. “Fine, I’ll give her your number, but if I don’t get those cookies I’ll hunt you down.” Liz shakes her head. If she closed her eyes she could pretend like it was the good old times again. “If they even are cookies, Paps nearly exploded,  you’re probably getting a three tiered cake.” He smiled and hugged his sister. It seemed even he wanted to pretend it was the past too. “Either way, I’m happy to see you. Have fun with your dads, I’ll tell Phoenix you said bye.” He pulls away and punctuates it with a wink before running back to his group. She briefly considers going to talk to phoenix more, but suddenly has the deep desire for a hug from her dad. It’s a weird sensation, but one not lost on someone who could lose her parents at any moment given the extremely dangerous nature of their jobs. Legacy says goodbye to Jake and tells him to be on his A game tomorrow, they have a trophy to win after all. 

The walk up to the front door of her parents house feels shorter when she’s practically bounding up the steps. She’s unlocking the door in record time, eager to hug her dad. It had been almost a month since she saw him last, he had hand delivered the news to her that she was going to TOP GUN, much to the dismay of her CO, obviously not prepared enough for a visit from the COMPACFLT. “Dad? I’m home!” Home. Now that felt good to say again. There were a few lights on but that was the only piece of evidence that someone was home if it weren’t for the Kawasaki in the driveway and the rumbling of feet, running towards her? Should they really be running at their age? Who was she kidding, even God couldn’t keep Paps down and Dad? Well he had about 36 years experience in keeping up with his husband. “Lizzy? That you?” She heard his deep voice before she saw him, but when she did her heart warmed. He looked just as he did when she last saw him instead this time he was wearing a sweater instead of his stuffy uniform. She always hated hugging him when he wore that, his badge and wings poking her cheek. “Hey dad, good to see you.” And there was that hug. Soul crushing in the best way, hand on the back of her head like she suspected he’d been doing since she was born. He let out a content sigh, like he was just as relieved to be in this hug as she was. “Hey baby girl, good to see you too.” When they pulled away she could see her Paps waiting patiently for his turn. “Wow, I would’ve expected you to be in time out.” Pete gives out a very sarcastic laugh and embraces his daughter. “Your father decided he loved me too much to be too mean.” He winked at his husband and because she was attuned to her fathers antics she could see a small blush on her dads cheek. It was nice to see that after all this time they were still like teenagers in love. Tom gestures towards the kitchen, for his family to all to sit around the island while he served brownies. Figures. 

Liz laughs as she’s handed a treat and gets a funny look from her parents. “Something funny sweetheart?” She shakes her head and sets down the brownie. “Nothing really, I just bet Bradley that you had baked, it’s what you do when you’re stressed. Especially about Paps.” In the midst of her victory she forgot to turn on her Bradley censor. It was something she had inadvertently developed throughout the years. When she was a kid she didn’t understand why her dad’s would get so sad when she asked for her brother, why they always seemed to cry a little when she said his name. When she did figure it out she stopped talking about him to them, she loved them too much and didn’t want to see them sad. Tom was the first to break the silence that had settled over the room. “Oh, you saw Bradley?” She looked to her Paps confused, “Paps didn’t tell you? He was at the bar and I went to go say hi.” The father in question looked sheepish as his husband gave him the look. “I was going to tell you but I didn’t want to ruin our reunion.” He said that last part with a sly look on his face that got the other man blushing again. “Oh ew you guys, your kid is sitting right here.” Liz feigned disgust and looked away as her Paps decided to make it worse by kissing her dad, just to annoy her, she was sure. “You should be grateful that your parents still love each other. Do you know how many straight couples get divorced every year? Now that’s disgusting.” Maverick was obviously trying to change the subject, but Liz was his daughter so she was nothing if not persistent. “Anyways, yes dad I talked to Bradley. He seemed to be doing great, healthy, and didn’t outright run away when I mentioned you two.”

 Pete nodded along, trying not to get too excited at what could be nothing. “Progress is progress Pete, he’ll come around.” Pete rolled his eyes and set down his brownie. “It’s been almost two decades since he stopped talking to us, this isn’t progress.” Tom set his brownie down as well and replaced it with his husband's hand. “Baby, he’s talking to our daughter. He’s not losing his temper when he hears our names, we should take what we can get.” Pete sighs and nods solemnly, not really taking in his words. “If it helps when I invited him over he didn’t really say no as much as an ‘I’ll pass’. I mean he was the one that brought you up in the first place.” Pete perks up at her words. “Really? What did he say?” She has to take a second to remember what he had said, it was a long day and there was a pretty girl involved. “He just asked if you guys were around. I told him that you still had the house and that you were both in town, but I promise I didn’t tell him why just that Paps got himself hurt,” Pete started to interrupt, “You did. And that’s why both of you are back.” There was an uncomfortable silence that settled across the kitchen, an uncommon occurrence for this particular family. “And what did he say?” 

Pete was cautious with his question as if he almost didn’t want to know the answer. “He didn’t say anything specific about you, but I could tell in his eyes that he was worried. Then he asked if I was going to try and get him to come over. I didn’t, but he was invited.” Tom put his arm around his daughter and leaned his head on hers. “Thank you for at least trying. I’m sorry about all of this, I know it’s affected you too.” That was something Liz was always so surprised by. Her parents always thought about her involvement in certain situations. Something her friends had told her was a rare occurance in a father child relationship. Even when she was just a kid and her Paps was still going on deployments her dad always made sure to keep her up to date on what was going on, to try and ease her anxieties. She always could tell when something bad had happened, her dad keeping his updates more vague, but he was there informing her nonetheless. “It’s okay dad. Bradley was mad at me for just a little bit, at least he’s talking to one of us.” The same sad smile was painted on both her parents' faces, something that they had developed after being the same kind of sad for so long. 

“Okay that’s enough sad for tonight, we haven’t been all together for a long time what do you say we watch a movie and pass out on the couch?” It was her favorite thing they did. She would always suggest a movie and they would be all for it but fall asleep halfway through. Liz would just throw a blanket on them and put herself to bed. And so that’s how the small family ended their evening. The most powerful man in the Navy and the fastest man alive cuddled on the couch fast asleep while their daughter takes a photo and falls asleep too. 

Tags: @callsign-hollywood

[aukkuli]

Marco: Did you have to stab Them?

Estella: You weren't there. You didn't hear What they Said to me.

Marco: What did they said?

Estella: '' What are you going to do, stab me?''

Marco: That's fair.

[lesbiandardevil]

donations have been incredibly slow these past months and it's also my fault because I haven't been sharing the commissions I've made so here we are again! asking you to please please donate if you're able to so we can help Feras' family

[peachiixox]

Ace, Thatch. Marco & Luna (oc) 🏴‍☠️

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Art by eutt1

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[gamergirlbonestaskforce141riot]

All the places I've been and things I've seen

A million stories that made up a million shattered dreams

The faces of people I'll never see again

And I can't seem to find my way home

[cartoonist1004]

jean grey x-man fan art

[treewith3eees]

Wanted to do more wholesome things and practice some fully body, so the G pick for this week of #pridemonth2024 is phoenix wright and mikes Edgeworth. They are married and you cant tell me otherwise.

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[sometimes-i-write-good]

5 + 1

Top Gun: Maverick - Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd x f!pilot reader (callsign: Fallbeil)

4.4k || 5 times Bob remembers your little quirks and habits, and 1 time you remember his. 

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Genre: Fluff, crushing, love confessions

CW: mentions of drinking, swearing

Author’s Note: Bob is such an acts of service kind of person - I can feel it deep in my soul. Also, I thought the idea of him ending up with someone who has a scary ass callsign like Guillotine (which is Fallbeil in German) despite him being a cinnamon roll would be the funniest thing in the world. || cross-posted on ao3

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The first time you noticed something was because Hangman had that stupid ass look on his face again. That same one he always had, the only one he had in all honesty. The one that, recently, only ever seemed to be directed at you and that pissed you off most of all. 

“What?” He asked, but the smirk pulling his lips back into the stupid, smug fucking smile told you clearly: he knew exactly what.

“Leave her alone, Bagman. I’m not in the mood today,” Rooster said, and you could tell he meant it. HIs voice sounded surprisingly tired considering mornings were his prime time of existence. Maverick insisted on calling these meetings earlier and earlier, chinking away at everyone's stability, and it was proving to be too much for even the earliest of risers. 

Hangman scoffed, pressing his hand to his chest, and feigning offense. “Why am I always the bad guy? What if today was the day Fallbeil finally snapped and did something to me instead?” 

You rolled your eyes. “If I snapped, you wouldn’t be holding a conversation with me. Your head wouldn’t even be attached to your body.” 

“Living up to your name as always, doll.” 

Rooster slid into one of the empty chairs at the conference table, slapping down a notebook, and turned to look at you. “I’ll punch him if you want.” 

“I’m perfectly capable of throwing my own punches, thank you.” The look on Rooster’s face said he didn’t trust you not to take it too far. 

“And coffee mugs.” Hangman glanced over his shoulder; eyes trained on the spot where a cracked, open travel cup lay open. Opened and spilled, everywhere. “Which I managed to dodge.” 

“Try to dodge my-” but your insult was cut short by Rooster saying, “Coffee? You hate coffee.” 

You set your lips in a thin, embarrassed line. “He told me that it was tea.” 

“And you believed him?” Rooster snorted. 

You slunk back into your chair, crossing your arms with a pout. “It’s early! I’m basically the walking dead right now, birdbrain.” 

As with every mission of this sheer level of importance, your anxiety had been too great to let you sleep. Usually Bob or Phoenix or Rooster, the early risers of the group, would be up to go for a job or hit the gym with you. You were up well before all of them today and had taken it upon yourself to go for a run, shower, and be painfully early to this briefing. You had hoped Bob would be the first one there, he typically was, but the universe was out to get you because instead of those sweet, doe eyes behind some thick-lensed glasses all you got was a stupid pair of lips messing with a toothpick. 

“Don’t be too hard on, Rooster.” Phoenix called out, walking into the hangar with Fanboy, Payback, and Coyote in tow. “I already smoked him during our run this morning. He’s fragile.” 

Before Rooster could get all up in arms or Hangman could jump on a moment of vulnerability, Maverick walked in. He had his way to the head of the table while everyone else found their seats. “Good morning, everyone.” Tired, disjointed voices repeated the sentiment, pulling a smile onto Mav’s face. “I see we’re all ready for a busy day. What do you say we get started?” 

“Sorry, I’m late, sir!” Bob’s voice comes from behind you. “I couldn’t find the kettle.” 

Kettle, you thought to yourself, but Maverick just waved for him to sit down and continued talking. Before Bob headed over to the only open seat, by Hangman of all people, he placed a small cup of tea in front of you without a word. In your favorite mug, too. You brought it up to your lips to taste it… and it was perfect. Exactly the way you liked it. 

‘Thank you,’ you mouthed at him after he sat down. Bob just nodded and focused his attention on Maverick. You did the same, not even registering that he didn’t have a cup of anything for himself. 

–

The second time you noticed something nice Bob did for you was during poker night. Fanboy and Payback had decided tempting fate and coming out the other side had bonded you all for life. A point any of you could hardly disagree with. That mission was not something any of you were supposed to come back from. So, the idea of a movie night had been tossed around, but Payback always tried to guess the endings and Hangman tried to outdo the one-liners and Rooster just had to know if he knew that actor from another movie - needless to say, movie nights were shelved very fast. 

Then the idea of bar hopping came about, followed by karaoke night, followed by trivia night. Each of which ended up in all of you spending too much money on booze and drunkenly embarrassing yourselves with horrible vocals or blatantly wrong answers to obscure history questions. You all settled on the idea of a game night. It seemed to work well enough. A ‘family’ dinner followed by a board game. Except for the fact that Payback instead of placing bets no matter if it was CandyLand or Monopoly, which Coyote would double, and Hangman would triple. Leaving you all spending just as much money as you had at the bar. 

It was Bob who brought up the idea of having poker nights. Something with betting already designed into it so that none of you had to worry about emptying your bank accounts at the end of the night. That was the problem with setting elite competitors against one another, they never knew when to quit. 

You’d all been kept relatively close to TOPGUN, usually stationed a few hours away max. Months where distance wasn’t a problem, you all tried to meet once a week. If one of you weren’t stateside, then once a month worked just fine. Six months into poker nights so far and you’d been able to have at least one every month. Every time the list of things to bring shifted down a person, so that each time a new person would be in charge of chips or appetizers or the main entree, etc. It was a system that worked with military precision. 

Until the one time it didn’t. 

Bob was the last through the door of Payback’s small apartment. At least, it looked small with so many people crammed in there. “Here, I got special plates this time.” He raised them high above his head like a prize. Large, sturdy, and compartmentalized. Like the trays you’d get in the mess hall or for a school lunch. 

The statement caused immediate uproar.

“I was on plates and napkins!” Coyote said around a mouthful of sour cream and onion chips, brought by yours truly. And Hangman started making comments about how if no one was going to follow the list, then he wasn’t going to either. 

“You weren’t in charge of plates, Bob!” Fanboy tried his best not to get too worked up over it. He had created a spreadsheet of everyone’s responsibilities. Verifying everyone knew their roles was his main role in making sure this whole operation ran smoothly. “Please tell me you still brought dessert.” 

“I’ve got dessert. My grandma came out this weekend and made a peach cobbler.” 

The mention of his grandma’s baking ensured the pitchforks and torches were put away, for now. That woman had godly skills in the kitchen. You would gladly sit down and eat an entire cobbler of hers by yourself in one sitting.

Coyote, still hurt by his duty being impeded on, asked, “So then what are the plates for?” 

“Fallbeil doesn’t like when her food touches,” Bob said as though it were the most common knowledge in the world. “You guys always insist on getting plates that are way too small.” 

He set down the plates on the counter, followed by the pie, and went to take off his shoes and didn’t bring anything like that up again for the rest of the night. 

–

The third time you noticed something nice that Bob did for you was a day he had to leave early. A helicopter was coming to pick him and Phoenix up to take them overseas. Just for a few days, or so said those in charge, and you knew how easily a few days could change to a few weeks to a few months. 

The thought of possibly not seeing them for a while aggravated you. It meant being stuck on a ship hundreds of miles from the nearest shore without your two best friends. You’d known what you were signing up for when you first started. The military liked to keep their secrets. At any moment you could be swept away for a mission, but it still felt unfair when you woke up only to realize that your wingwoman and her WSO are replaced by strangers.

Back soon, take care. 

Not signed but the handwriting was so obviously Bob. Cursive with careful, purposeful loops. Hangman tried to tear him apart for taking so much care in his notes during the pre-briefs before the uranium mission. The insults died out fast once everyone realized he had chicken scratch for handwriting. Funny how spreading a rumor Hangman deserved the callsign Rooster over Bradley could put him in his place so quickly. 

Back soon, take care.

You stared at the sticky note, so carefully pressed against the outside of your locker. It was easy to imagine the conversation among him and Phoenix. 

“I’m leaving her a note.” 

“She’ll be fine, Bob. We’ve got to go.” 

“Four words.” 

He’d gotten into the habit of leaving sticky note updates in between lengthy letters. They held more emotion than an email or text, and you found that you liked it more than digital words on a screen. You could trace your fingers over each letter. Pretend as though he were pressed up in the seat next to you like when you’d go to the Hard Deck on a busy night and everyone would shove together in a few booths. A closeness you’d found yourself longing for in all moments spent together despite there being no reason for the two of you to share an armchair in the common room. 

You had crushes before. A few relationships littered your history of schooling, but you, like many others who had graduated from TOPGUN, assumed the sky was to be your first and only love. And then Bob showed up with his quiet, gentle ways and your heart would soar every time he walked into a room. There were days you went without talking, but you could count on some kind of a note to be waiting for you on your door or waiting for you on the control of your jet. 

Reminders that he was thinking of you. The way a best friend would. Surely. That’s all it had to be. No sense in constructing something out of nothing. Something that could wreck this perfect routine the two of you had created in one another’s lives. 

You peeled the sticky note off the front of your locker to place inside, out of harm's way. Your finger traced each letter. It was likely he and Phoenix were off somewhere with Coyote or Rooster or Hangman doing something far more dangerous than the intelligence patrol you’d been assigned to. As you swung open your locker, you wished you’d had enough sense to write him a letter before he’d left. Something reminding him and Phoenix to be safe, but you hadn’t known he was leaving. You hadn’t even let the thought cross your mind.

“Oh, Bob,” you sighed. 

A smile tugs its way onto your face. He’d left a mug in your locker. Not filled with tea this time, but with pens and highlighters and all your favorite stationary to use on your paperwork. You usually had a pencil case with you filled with pens that flowed smoothly and didn’t smudge or highlighters that didn’t bleed through the page.

He must have packed extra in his bag in case you’d forgotten that pencil case, which you had. But that wasn’t the best part. Somehow he’d managed to keep a rose alive and blooming to stick amongst the stationary. For, what it seemed to you, the sole purpose of making you smile. 

–

The fourth time you noticed something nice that Bob did for you was at Coyote’s birthday cookout. You were running late. Very late. More late than you’d ever been in your whole life to a point that you would have turned around if you could have, but you had been stuck on a highway without an exit for miles on end. The need to pee had never been stronger. 

Stuck in the literal sense. Construction fed into traffic fed into cars stopping for no reason at all fed into fender benders fed into your frustration. “Please just move!” You shouted at the trail of brake lights in front of you. All you had to do was make it to the next exit two miles away. 

But no one met your frustrated request. Instead, the standstill continued. You were destined to never arrive at this party. It had been weeks since you’d seen everyone together in one spot. Poker night had been postponed to tomorrow. Bound to be a dismal affair of hangovers and stale chips left out in bowls overnight. A slice of heaven on earth. Though, you would say that for just about anything if it meant being released from a fucking prison of a car. 

Your phone went off. The distinct sound of big band music filling your car. Bob’s ringtone. 

“Where are you?” His voice came through the other line at the same moment you shouted, “I want to rip my head off!” 

An amused chuckle filled your car which only caused you to fume further. “I’m serious, Robert. This two-hour drive has become four- maybe five. I lost count when I had to come to a full and complete stop for the three millionth time today. It would be so much easier if Coyote had a runway in his backyard. Then I could just fly there-”

“Fallbeil,” Bob cut in, “are you almost here?” 

“I’m a mile from my exit. I should be there in twenty. If I’m allowed to take my foot off the brake for more than a few seconds.” You let out a loud groan. “I’m going to stop at a gas station because I think my bladder might explode. So expect me in thirty actually-” 

Bob laughed and spoke once more, saving you from yet another breathless tangent. “I’m excited to see you.” 

You smiled to yourself. Grinning at the stopped cars in front of you like an idiot. “Yeah?” 

“Have I ever not been?” 

“I’m excited to see you too.” You could envision Bob’s own shy grin. No, you couldn’t hear the sounds of the party going on around him. He had closed himself off alone in a room to talk to you, which would mean the smile would be big and beaming. “Coyote enjoying himself?” 

“I think he might have cried when Natasha put on the birthday playlist she made for him.” 

“She’s good at that.” 

“Good?” Bob laughed. “She’s elite at it.” Then, after a moment of comfortable silence fell over the two of you he said, “Want me to stay on the phone until you show up?”  

If it were a normal poker night, you would have jumped on the offer. Phone calls with Bob had become a staple in that routine in one another’s lives. Letters and notes were not nearly enough to tide the two of you over. But today was a special occasion. 

“No,” you told him. “I’ll be there soon.” He deserved to go enjoy the party. Not be tied up in a phone call where you were bound to blow your lid if the car in front of you did not speed up. 

“Be careful. Drive safe.” The line clicked. 

Be careful, you turned the words over in your head wondering what they would sound like punctuated with a kiss every morning when you headed out the door. 

You turned down Coyote’s street, knowing exactly what you’d find. Cars taking every spot. Coyote was the most popular out of the crew. Charming personality, willingness to help everyone so much as passing by, and good looks. The combination needed for a party of the century. 

And the shouts of excitement that flowed from his backyard told you just that was happening. Without you, and it would continue to go on without you if you couldn’t find an open spot to park. Bob waited at the end of Coyote’s packed driveway, hands stuffed into his jeans. A surprising amount of muscle strained beneath the button up shirt he wore to every part. More cars shoved onto the asphalt and spilled over onto the lawn.

Bob waved, waited patiently for you to park the car in the middle of the street, and then came around to the driver's side of the car. “Hey,” he said as he popped open your door. “How was the drive?” 

You shot him a look. One that immediately set that bright, beautiful smile on his face. “Funny.” 

“Here, get out.” 

“What?”

“Get out. Go inside and say hi.” He leaned over to unbuckle you and the scent of his cologne tickled your nose. “I have a plate of food for you in the oven, on low so it stays warm. There’s one in the fridge too with the cold stuff.” 

“Bob-” 

“They’re all separated.” He waved you out of the car, grabbing your hand to help, and pressed a kiss to your cheek. “I’m glad you’re here, Fallbeil.” 

You saw him again ten minutes later because he had to park two blocks away and walk back. 

–

The fifth time you really noticed Bob going out of his way for you was a few months into the two of you moving in together. Solely as roommates, two best friends making the most of a perfect situation. Rent was going up, you had an extra room, and Bob had just gotten hired as an instructor at TOPGUN. The timing couldn’t have been better. 

In truth, nothing could be better. The two of you fit perfectly into each other’s lives. Bob with his early habits. Having tea on the table for you alongside the crossword section of the newspaper he insisted on reading every morning. The hardest word always filled in as a starting point. He’d saved you the frustration of straining your mind over a word you couldn’t have dreamed up in the wildest corners of your imagination. 

The preference over sticky notes as communication over texts still remained the same. Left on the mirror in your shared bathroom always signed with “be careful” or “take care.” Sometimes there is nothing of importance to say, but Bob would write those two words anyway as a reminder. 

You’d leave voicemails if it was something that needed your immediate attention - talking on the phone to Bob became a bright spot in your week. You tried your hardest to leave them only for emergencies but hearing his voice every day had spoiled you. Sometimes your mind would lock on something you would absolutely have to tell him. Then you would find yourself pulling out your phone, typing in his number, and putting it away with a great sigh. You had planes to fly, he had students to teach, and the torture of being apart for a few hours each day made returning home to him all the sweeter. Returning home to movie nights or long walks on the beach or stories of students who remind Bob of each member of the Dagger Crew. 

Phoenix would crash often when she got called back to TOPGUN, and Bradley hung around often enough seeing that Mav and Penny had made their lives here. Everyone cycled through at some point. Even Hangman had a welcome place on your couch if he ever needed it. 

There was one night Jake had spent the night. Out of the blue and completely inconvenient as was the case with Hangman, but he offered to cook dinner while the two of you were at work and you came home to a good meal and surprisingly good company. What a sight to see the three of you laughing at a small table. 

You hadn’t minded Hangman staying over. Though he did scare the shit out of you when he knocked on your door and let himself into your room to talk. “You know he likes you,” he had said, perched on the corner of your bed with that same stupid ass look on his face that meant trouble. “I think he might even be in love with you.” 

“Bagman-” 

“Hey, I come in here to tell you some life-altering news and you start with insulting me.” Hangman had let out a low whistle. “Think about it, Fallbeil.” 

“What if it ruins everything? We’re doing so well.” 

“What if it changes everything for the better?” 

You hadn’t expected those words to play in your head as often as they did when Hangman finally left. It had been weeks since you’d last seen him. Poker night was tonight. He was hosting, and you had a feeling he was going to corner you with all sorts of questions as to if you’d made a move on Bob yet. A foolish notion. Bob might not be a skittish dog, but making a move on him still might cause spontaneous combustion. You were just trying to figure out which one of you it would be. 

What could be the right time to tell your best friend and roommate that you loved him? That you have always wanted to be more? 

You thought it over as you wiped sleep from your eyes and made your way into the bathroom. Bob had left earlier than usual this morning. It was a test day for the students and he was nothing if not prepared. Likely that kind, painfully chirpy teacher in the early hours of the day. 

There was a sticky note on the mirror. As expected. Longer than usual. Unexpected. 

Took your car this morning. Saw you needed an oil change. Be home late, then he can head to Bagman’s. Hope that’s okay. My keys are on the counter. Be safe. Love you.

You traced those last two words with the tip of your finger. It was the first time he’d added those two words. 

And they fit so naturally on the note. Like they always belonged there.

–

The one time (the first time) you realized you were going out of your way to do things because you loved Robert Floyd when you went into the mall with a head full of ideas to get for Rooster’s birthday and came out twenty minutes later with one thing. One thing not for Rooster. 

A model plane for Bob. Before he’d gotten so overwhelmed with his responsibilities at TOPGUN to cease having many hobbies, he’d built model planes. It’s what had gotten him into a love of planes. At least, that’s what he had told you one night at the Hard Deck, when the two of you were shoved up against one another. 

Growing up in a small midwestern farm town didn’t give him many chances growing up to be around planes, but he’d watch the ones that flew over crops with rapt interest. He memorized flight patterns, sat alongside fields, and watched them every chance he got. Then, in the late nights where he only had his imagination to keep him company, Bob built model planes and memorized their histories.

“I’ve always wanted to be around planes.” He had slurred the words a bit back then. One too many sips of beer between handfuls of peanuts. “I kept them around me as much as I could.” 

You hadn’t been able to figure out how crop planes became fighter jets in his history, but more stories came out as the two of you moved in together. Dismissive comments about school bullies. Talks about how he knew he wasn’t the strongest, but had always felt the need to prove himself. It seemed to fit into this idea people created of him - always a bit behind the rest. You respected him for sticking to what people told him he couldn’t do and making a name for himself in spite of it all. 

And you loved that he trusted you enough to bring you in on those hobbies of his. Building fighter jets in the low light of desk lamps and night lights. Reminding you of the purpose of each piece. Telling the history of each plane. But your favorite part of all was when the two of you would build a jet you were flying and he would include all your statistics, everything you’ve accomplished, and, when you caught him in rare form, things Bob imagined you would do that would etch your name into the very fabric of history. 

“Did you get a present for Bradley?” He asked, hearing the click of the door behind you. There was a rag thrown over his shoulder. Bob turned to face you with a smile. In the midst of cooking, glasses slightly fogged from whatever it was he was cooking, and your heart couldn’t take it. 

“N-no,” you said, tripping up on your words. “I, um, I forgot.” 

“But on the phone you said you couldn’t wait to show me what you got?” He tilted his head, watching as you kicked off your shoes, and placed your shopping bag on the table. “I hope you’re not trying to sign your name onto my gift, Fallbeil. I spent three months finding a vintage record of ‘Great Balls of Fire’ for him.” 

You smiled at his thoughtfulness. “No, Robert, I will not steal credit for your gift. He’ll know it’s from you anyway.” You took a deep, shaky breath. “I got something for you instead.” 

Bob’s brows scrunched in confusion. “Me, but it’s Bradley’s birthday?” 

You pulled the model F-18 from the bag and held it out towards him. Your hands shook slightly. Silly considering the two of you were always going out of your way to do things for each other. Plates and oil changes and parking cars. Small things. Nothing as momentous as a declaration of pure understanding of one another. 

He said your name with a softness you’d never heard before. As though he were praying. 

“I love you.” You said it at the same time as him. And the words fell so naturally from both your lips. Like they always belonged there.

===

ask and you shall receive (taglist): @whoeverineedtobe​ @dhwanishah09​

[dindjarindiaries]

The Rising Phoenix - Chapter One

series masterlist • main masterlist • ao3

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pairing ➵ din djarin x fem!oc rating ➵ mature (18+) tags ➵ enemies to lovers, fluff & angst, emotional & physical hurt/comfort, canon-typical violence, injuries & blood, trauma, eventual/mild smut, strong language, sexual references word count ➵ 3.847k chapter summary ➵ This year's team of Mandalorian recruits embark on their journey to Kyrbej, their home for the next brutal cycle.

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CHAPTER ONE

I tie off my right boot and stand up, facing the reflection of myself in the long piece of reflective transparisteel. The leather of my training gear groans at the movements. I bite my cheek. That will take some getting used to.

Damn. I look disproportionate as hell with my beskar helmet and absolutely no other armor joining it. That will be another thing I’ll have to get used to.

Not that there will be any mirrors for me to see myself at Kyrbej. The training grounds on the other side of Concordia’s surface are known for their practicality, not any type of luxury. Certainly not anything more than what we already have in our stronghold. If I want to look at myself, I’ll have to bring my own shard of reflective transparisteel.

Given Linessa’s warnings about how the next cycle will go, though, I’m fairly sure I won’t want to look at myself, anyway.

I’m only able to heave one more breath before there’s a rapid knocking at my door. “Rhi! Hurry! You’re barely giving me any time to say goodbye!”

I swallow the sudden knot my twin sister’s words tie in my throat and pick up my rucksack. It’s heavy as hell, but given the fact I’ll be living out of it, I’m surprised it’s not even heavier. I slide my door open and Rowyn’s standing there, her emerald helmet adorned with gold embellishments flashing in my gaze as she lunges forward to wrap her arms tight around me.

The rucksack falls to the floor as I hug her back. For the first time since we were younglings, our paths are diverging. It’s the Way, as Mom has reminded me so many times before, as the Ancestors have called us each to our own unique paths.

“I’ll see you soon.” I say the words to Rowyn with confidence, even if there’s a wide-open chasm of uncertainty in my chest. I’ve been preparing for this for years, ever since I slid this beskar over my head. My hand cups the back of her helmet. “You better have a full suit ready for me when I get back.”

Rowyn manages a short laugh at that. “First of all, I’m not in charge of giving you armor.” She pulls away and holds my own emerald helmet between her hands, though I can see the white accents I added to each curve of the beskar reflected in her visor. “Second of all, I’m gonna need more than a cycle to learn how to make a full fucking suit.”

I laugh with her. Our helmets touch, silence sitting between us, before I step away and hold her hands in mine. “Tell the Armorer to go easy on you." I squeeze her hands. “I know how easily you blister.”

“I could say the very same about you.” Rowyn’s thumb runs over my palm. “But I think I’ll have it easier over here than you will over there.”

I scoff. “Have you met the Armorer?”

Rowyn can’t laugh this time. I don’t need to see her face to identify her concern. After years without seeing a single person’s face, it’s easy to spot emotions in other ways, especially the people I know best. “Just be careful, Rhi.”

“I will.” I give her hands another squeeze. “You’ve seen how well I can kick ass.”

Rowyn’s helmet tilts, her substitution for a smile. “Yeah, that makes me feel better.”

I chuckle and sigh, going in for one last hug. “I’m gonna miss you so fucking much, Row.”

“I’ll miss you too, Rhi.”

“Rhiane,” Mom’s voice calls for me further down the corridor. “It’s time to get going.”

Rowyn and I step away from each other at the same time. I pick up my rucksack and nod at her, taking in the last of my twin sister before I turn and start to walk towards Mom. Rowyn, however, adds one more thing over my shoulder. “And Rhiane!”

I whip my helmet around. Rowyn jogs to get closer to me, lowering her modulated voice so only I can hear.

“Kick Din Djarin’s ass for me.”

I huff at that, as much as the sound of his name alone sets my chest aflame with deeply planted bitterness. “Easy.”

“Rhiane.” Mom’s voice is more stern now. I wince and turn to face her again, her battle-worn emerald suit of armor serving as a warning rather than an inspiration right now. “Let’s go.”

I look at my boots as I follow her out of the part of the stronghold I’ve called home for twenty-two cycles, now. Hopefully, Dad’s waiting outside, or else I won’t have a chance to say goodbye. There’s no way Mom’s going to let me back inside, and I can’t blame her. The last thing I’d want to do is either hold up the whole group of this cycle’s recruits or have to run like hell to catch up to them.

The maze of the stronghold soon gives way to Concordia’s swirling atmosphere, and as I look up, I can see the distant image of Mandalore. The familiar ache of curiosity and nostalgia I have no need for hits at the sight of our people’s homeworld. I wonder if earning my place as a warrior will ever grant me permission to visit our history there. Even Mom and Dad seem to miss it after running a few missions there when I was little.

Speaking of Dad, he stands with the other parents of my fellow recruits, who will see us off as we head to Kyrbej. There are less parents here than there are recruits, even if there aren’t that many of us. I push the unnecessary observation away and focus on the last goodbyes I have to make.

“You’re late, Rhiane,” Dad greets me, his gloved hand tapping the side of his helmet—and no doubt powering down the chrono within his visor.

Mom offers him the answer. “Rowyn.”

Dad nods in understanding. He approaches me and sets a strong hand on my shoulder. “You’ve been waiting a long time for this day, verd’ika.” I smile to myself at the nickname. I’ve had it ever since I tried to force Rowyn into wrestling matches when we were kids. “I know you’ll make us proud.”

“Thank you.” I nod, maintaining my composure and respect in light of the fellow Mandalorians who surround us.

“The Fighting Corps isn’t ready for you.” Mom speaks up next. She presses her hand against the back of my emerald helmet to make it meet her own. “But you are damn sure ready for it.”

My eyes start to sting, my nose prickling and my throat tied up in a spikey knot. Shit. I told myself I wouldn’t get emotional, even if my beskar could hide it—but I hadn’t expected my parents to show me anything more than tough-love in front of others. “Thank you.” I force the words through my tightened throat.

“The cycle will be over before you know it.” Dad steps towards me when Mom gives him room to, his helmet also meeting my own. “You’ll be a full-fledged warrior next time we see you.”

“Just a full-fledged recruit, Dad.” I manage to maintain my usual smartass tone even amidst my emotional struggle. Dad huffs and steps away. I look between my parents and lower my helmet in love and respect. “This is the Way.”

“This is the Way.” Their comforting voices are a chorus that wrap around me like a sweet embrace as I force myself to turn my back on them. I join the group of recruits and get in formation, falling into the empty space in the two-by-two line that’s been saved for me.

“It’s about time your ass turned up.” The recruit at my side’s tone is full of nothing but amusement as she tilts her purple helmet at me. “I was starting to think you were having second thoughts.”

I shoved my shoulder against hers. “Fuck off, Sahra.” I tilt my helmet back at her. “As if I’d be the one between us to stay behind.”

I could almost feel the hot waves of Sahra’s embarrassment warming my black leathers. “That’s different. Since Thiio’s due for his training next year—.”

“—You’ll be spending two cycles apart, not just one. I know.” I find her hand and give it a squeeze. “But this will be good for you two. You’ve been inseparable ever since they moved his family’s wing closer to yours.”

“And?” Sahra’s curt response is almost a challenge.

“Selfishly, it gives me more alone time with you.” I let her hand go and shrug. “Plus, who knows. Maybe training will bring out something new in someone that you’ll like.” I gesture with my  helmet to the path we’re about to take. “There’s gonna be a lot of extra adrenaline we have to take care of out there.”

“Fair point.” Sahra becomes more amused again as she crosses her arms over her chest. “And who exactly do you think you’ll be choosing for that task?”

I shrug again. “I’ll have to wait and see.” I spot a familiar shine diagonally across from my position, about four rows of recruits ahead. “I do know who I won’t be choosing, though.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” My visor snaps over to Sahra. She dramatically fires my own words back at me. “Maybe training will bring out something new in someone that you’ll like.”

“Fuck no.” I find the silver helmet again, the only one in this entire group that hasn’t been painted, and tighten my jaw. “That doesn’t apply to him.”

“Really, Rhiane?” Sahra is using the tone of voice that makes it hard to tell if she’s being serious or not. “I always thought you two would be a power—.”

I shove my elbow hard enough into her ribs to make her lose her breath for a moment.

“Damn, fine then. Comm received.” Sahra rubs her hand over her ribs. “No more jokes about Djarin.”

The sound of his name causes his silver helmet to turn over his shoulder. I don’t let my visor stray from his, instead challenging him to look away first. My hands curl into fists at my sides and I wish I could swing them in his direction. I’ve already sparred with him enough times to know, though, that I won’t win—but neither will he.

The question now, then, is who’s going to win this staring contest of ours.

“Recruits!” A booming voice announces from the front of the group.

Another draw it is. We look away from each other at the same time, focusing our attention to the black-armored Mandalorian ahead of us. Captain Hosnan has been running the Fighting Corps’ training for cycles, even before more than half our ranks abandoned the Way during the Clone Wars.

“You’ve been training for cycles to see this moment. You’re now mere minutes away from embarking on this journey, a Mandalorian tradition that’s been in place for thousands of years.”

My stomach twists with nerves I’m not used to having. The historical weight of this training isn’t lost on me, especially when I remember who my ancestors are. Settling for anything less than the goal I’ve made for myself in my mind is unacceptable.

“You’ve sworn the Creed. You’ve earned your most valuable piece of armor: your helmets.” 

Each one of our helmets is unique in some way, all adorned with special colors and embellishments—except for Din’s. For some reason, it makes my blood boil even more.

“Now, you will go on to earn each piece of your full suit of armor with each challenge you undertake. It won’t be easy, but the generations before you have proven it can be done. I’m the first captain to have no deaths reported at Kyrbej in three-hundred years, so don’t be my first.”

I swallow hard. No pressure.

“But don’t be mistaken. This isn’t because I’m softer than the other captains.” Captain Hosnan crosses his arms over his cuirass. “It’s because I’m tougher, and that toughness yields results. So, if any one of you feels you’re not up for the challenge, do us all a favor and walk away now while you can. As for the rest of you…”

Captain Hosnan lowers his arms to lift his fist to the center of his cuirass, right over the kar’ta. 

“Welcome to the Fighting Corps.” He lowers his helmet. “This is the Way.”

We all mirror his gesture, crossing our right arms over our chests and lowering our helmets. “This is the Way.”

The family members beside us are the last to say the phrase. “This is the Way.”

Captain Hosnan turns and begins to walk forward, and our group of recruits follows in obedient formation. I pull the straps of my rucksack higher on my shoulders and give Sahra a look. “Are you ready, Private Auren?”

Sahra tilts her helmet at me. “As ready as I’ll ever be, Private Voss.”

▼▲▼

As it turns out, the hardest part of our cycle at Kyrbej is fucking walking there.

After endless hours of non-stop travel across this desolate moon we call home, Captain Hosnan has finally allowed us to make camp. We don’t have the supplies to pitch tents, so we settle for various alcoves in the nearby rock structures that have defined Concordia ever since it was settled—or, at least, mined.

My feet are throbbing and my legs nearly give out when I sit down beside Sahra at our makeshift fire, but at least this walk is breaking in my boots. I chew on the ration pack Rowyn helped me acquire from the kitchen of our wing, sliding the material in the gap between the lip of my helmet and my skin. There’s no chance I’m gonna be able to hunt something out here.

The recruits are scattered throughout the alcove in their small friend groups, the ones made long before Kyrbej was even on the horizon. I’m well aware these groups will be drastically different by the time we all complete our training, and not just because of Linessa’s warning. It’s common sense. The shit we’re about to go through this cycle changes people from the inside-out.

“I’ll be right back,” Sahra speaks up into our comfortable silence. She stands and brushes the dirt of the alcove off her leathers. “I’ll let you know if I find a decent corner of privacy for relieving ourselves.”

I snort with amusement and watch her as she strides away. I’m not on my own for long, though, as another person soon comes to take her place. I don’t bother fighting the snarl underneath my  helmet or the roll of my eyes behind my visor.

“Voss.” Din’s modulated tone is curt as he stands over me.

“Djarin.” I all but bite his name out.

His arms cross over his chest. His broad chest. Shit, does that tiny detail really matter? “You seem tired.”

I scoff. “What a fucking compliment.” I sit up more and tilt my helmet. “Are you not exhausted from walking for at least six hours straight?” When he starts to reply, I hold up my hand. “Wait, let me guess. You’ve somehow been training for this specific part along with everything else.”

Din tilts his helmet back at me. “You’re catching on.”

Frustration pumps through my veins like hot, molten lava. “Well, what the hell do you want? Or did you just come over here to be an asshole?”

Din doesn’t waver at my hurled insults. “You tell me. Your friend was the one who said my name earlier.”

I narrow my eyes at him and hope he can somehow see their wrath behind my visor, even if it breaks the Creed. “Can’t live with the fact your name’s said in conversations you’re not a part of, Djarin?” I let out an amused huff. “Because I hate to tell you, people are allowed to say your name when you’re not around.”

“I would’ve been content to leave you to it.” Din shifts his weight to one hip. “But you were looking at me, so… naturally, I assumed you had something to say.”

“Nope.” I’m suddenly grateful for the Creed again that keeps my warm, embarrassed face from Din’s line of vision. Ancestors, forgive me. “Consider it a mistake.”

Din’s helmet straightens. “Let me give you some advice.” He gestures with his helmet to the view of Concordia outside the alcove. “There’s no room for mistakes at Kyrbej. Even one could move you down the ranks, and fast. My advice, then?” He drops his arms back to his sides, conveying his severity. “Don’t let it happen again.”

My anger becomes so volatile that I’m relieved I don’t have a metal suit of armor covering me. It would just melt into my skin. “So now you’re giving me orders?” I shake my helmet. “Hell no. And you say that as if I don’t already know.” My anger unties a cruel knot within my throat and unleashes its full wrath. “Unlike you, I have a fucking legacy to maintain.”

Din stiffens, but it only lasts for a moment. His hands curl into fists at his sides, but it’s not an unusual action for him. “Good.” He nods at me, having the audacity to remain civil after my harsh bite—and making me feel like the asshole here. “I expect it won’t happen again, then.”

He turns his back before he can see my middle finger extended up at him. I curse under my breath and wrap my arms around myself for more warmth, glancing at the unfinished ration pack on my lap. I’ve lost my appetite, and I could use the rest for breakfast, anyway.

No. I am not letting this man make me eat myself alive because he was the one who approached me in the first place. He’s trying to get to me mentally, since he can’t beat me physically. I won’t let him win.

Sahra returns and sits even closer to my side than she had before. “Damn, what did I miss?” Her visor gives me a once-over. “You’re tenser than a lariat.” She points at my unfinished ration. “And I expected that to be crumbs by now.”

“What do you think happened?” My visor’s glaring in Din’s direction, even though he’s become lost within the fray of recruits. I find his silver helmet amidst a group of other foundling recruits. He’s the biggest of them all.

“You mean, who do I think happened?” Sahra huffs. “It’s not really a question.”

“He was an asshole for coming over here, and then he made me be an asshole back.”

Sahra tilts her helmet at me. “He ‘made’ you?”

I finally turn to face her. “He wanted to know why you said his name earlier, before we left.”

I hate the way I can practically see Sahra’s purple helmet grow brighter, as if the fire suddenly got more powerful. “Yeah? And what did he have to say about my brilliant joke?”

“Your brilliantly fucking stupid joke? Yeah, he doesn’t know about it.” I huff in indignation. “He just threatened me not to make the ‘mistake’ of using his name without telling him about it again.”

Sahra’s shoulders tense at that. “What the hell?”

“Exactly.” I rest even further against the smooth slab of stone supporting me.

“So, how exactly were you an asshole in this context?”

I cringe, squeezing my eyes tight behind my visor in embarrassment. “Don’t judge me.” The only person who knows the Creed better than me is Din himself. The man’s a stickler for the rules and customs of our people. The foundlings are the future.

“Let me guess.” Sahra’s fingers tap over her thigh in unnecessary concentration. I already know she’s going to get it right on the first try. “You made a jab about him being a foundling?”

I palm my helmet with one of my hands. “Why am I such an ass about that sometimes, Sahra?” I shake my head.

“It’s the only leverage you have on him.” Sahra shrugs and pokes at the fire to keep it burning. “He’s not the most open about his life before his rescue, and he’s definitely not the type to tell anyone how he feels about it—or anything else.”

I stare at the fire. “That doesn’t make it right. He just…” I clench my hands into tight fists, “shit, he makes me so damn angry sometimes.”

“It may not be right, but it’s understandable.” Sahra nods at me. “You were predicted to be the top of our cycle from a young fucking age. Then Djarin just comes in, and… well, he’s the only one who can threaten that.”

I exhale deeply and close my eyes, feeling the weight of this day and situation upon me. “I don’t want to think about that day anymore.”

Sahra’s hand gives my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I understand.” I hear her shuffling around as she leans back next to me. “Get some rest. I have a feeling Hosnan’s gonna have us up and at ‘em as early as possible.”

Sahra’s right. It feels like I’ve been asleep for all of five minutes when the sound of beskar-on-beskar rings throughout the alcove.

The rest of the recruits and I jolt awake, looking to see Captain Hosnan with his gauntlets crossed over each other. “Morning, recruits! You have five minutes to fully put out your fires, pack your rucksacks, and relieve yourselves before we continue on!”

I groan and let my helmet hit the stone behind me for a moment. We’re not even at Kyrbej yet, and I already understand why I’ve trained like hell for this cycle.

But we will be getting to Kyrbej today, and that excitement alone is what gets me moving faster than anything else.

Once we’re all back on our feet and in our two-by-two formation, Captain Hosnan continues on our path to Kyrbej. Sahra’s quick to notice the sudden hop in my step. “What’s got you so excited to walk another six hours straight?”

I shoot her an incredulous look. “Kyrbej.”

“Right.” Sahra’s visor rises to the swirling sky for a moment. “I almost forgot the destination.”

“I’ve only been training my whole life for it.” I smile to myself, experience my first true wave of joy since leaving the stronghold. “Plus, I’ll finally get to see Linessa.”

Sahra’s helmet snaps back towards me. “Oh, shit, that’s right. She was team leader last year.”

“Damn right she was.” I tilt my helmet towards her. “She’s a Vizsla, after all.”

Sahra snorts. “If Paz was my older brother, I’d work my ass off to be team leader, too.” She gives me a knowing look. “But I’m not even gonna try when I know who it’s going to.”

I bite my cheek. “You don’t know that.”

“By the Ancestors, Rhiane, don’t lose your confidence already.” Sahra nudges my arm. “Your jab at Djarin may have been brutal, but it’s true. Even if he could possibly manage to beat you out in skill, when was the last time they made someone who’s not tied to a clan or a house a fucking team leader?”

My jaw remains wired shut. She’s right. The revelation floods relief through me. “Fair point. I’ll give you that.”

I don’t have another option; I have to believe her. Failing to become team leader isn’t an option. I won’t be able to face Dad, Mom, or even Rowyn if I don’t earn the title.

The hours go by surprisingly quickly, either because of the haziness of my exhaustion or because of the verbal games Sahra and I play to keep ourselves entertained. That haze, however, is quickly replaced by shocking clarity as the adrenaline kicks in at the sight on the horizon.

The unmistakable pillars of Kyrbej frame a tight group of Mandalorian warriors, those who will be serving as our officers, leaders, and teachers for the next cycle. I’m already searching for Linessa’s telltale blue helmet, but as much as I love the woman who’s like another sister to me, she’s not the only reason why my heart is racing with excitement.

After cycles and cycles of waiting, I’m finally at Kyrbej. I’m finally facing my long-awaited destiny. Not even my doubts about Djarin or team leader can quell my pure anticipation.

I don’t have to be Force-sensitive to know that I—and Kyrbej itself—won’t ever be the same after this moment.

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢

series masterlist • main masterlist • ao3

[quennofsblog]

Red Sea | Gojo Satoru

Prologue

x fem!OC You can read as a reader :) Doesn't fully follow the Canon plot!!!!

Synopsis: After so long apart, Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto come together to negotiate amid chaos, but remembering the past can be very painful.

Two men.

Gathered in a colorful abyss waiting for salvation and to be the saviors of humanity.

Both want the same things, but in different ways, one will sacrifice himself if possible for his goals, the other will sacrifice everything necessary to achieve his goals.

Face to face, beautiful and tragic memories came back to the surface, just looking at their eyes again was as if pieces of broken glass passed through their eyes, marks that were on their bodies did not erase what they both felt, nor what they felt.

Now, as an irony of fate, the most powerful men in humanity, gathered again in negotiations, ready to give and end everything that each other meant.

"Suguru."

"Satoru. It's been a while, hasn't it?" The black-haired man just smiled calmingly, even after everything, he was happy to meet his friend once again.

"That's right... I didn't think this meeting would happen... Under these circumstances." The platinum just sighed in defeat, his heavenly blue eyes swept over the scene, as ironically, it was very... Relaxing.

Satoru could breathe deeply there, as if no worry could catch him in that place, a sunset warmed them in a calming way, at the same time as a nostalgic breeze enveloped them.

"Surprised, aren't you? This place always helps me think. Oh, how's Floki? I've never seen that gluttonous ball of beauty again."

Floki... A name that squeezed Satoru's heart, an old friend who gave him so many positive emotions but who now belongs to the thousands of pieces of glass scattered around.

"Floki is no more." Steady, impatient eyes contrasted with Suguru's sharp eyes that fell a little at the statement. "What do you want anyway, Suguru?"

"I want Sukuna's seven fingers."

"Why do you need them?" Suguru's loud laugh would normally make him shiver, but after so many years apart and seeing the direction of their lives, nothing shook him anymore.

"Don't act stupid, Satoru, it doesn't suit your age anymore, it's not even necessary to be a genius for what I want with the fingers."

"If I give it to you, what will you give me in return?" Satoru just sighed, but curiously, he couldn't think of anything worthy of the exchange of fingers from the near destruction of the world.

"A soul."

"Soul?"

"You're still slow huh? Just the soul of Phoenix Leblanc."

Satoru's blue eyes just widened, shock coursing through his body, as if just that name invoked climate change in him and him alone, a vague feeling of nostalgia returned at the idea, but he quickly dismissed it, he knows it's impossible to bring someone back to life, he knows, because he's already tried. The results he obtained torment him to this day, haunted by the idiocy he committed that day.

He just looked at Suguru in disbelief, he knew that at this point, there would be no saving the man from the firm, psychotic eyes in front of him.

Geto, by using the name of the most important person to Gojo, who knew well what Phoenix Leblanc meant to the platinum artist, showed himself to be cruel, very cruel.

He couldn't simply believe in these absurdities, even though the depths of his consciousness tried to convince him to accept, he knew that when he accepted, he didn't know how this "soul" worked, but he knew that "soul" would never be his Phoenix.

He would be subject to going through the loss a second time, and he refuses if that's the case, Gojo knew he would never recover again, he could finally understand Geto Suguru if that happened, and maybe that's what Geto wants, a way for both of them to come together and destroy this rotten world.

He just looked back at the warm sun, sighing.

Not this time Suguru.

Forgive me.

Forgive me Phoenix.

"Straight forward as always. You have indeed gone crazy."

"Maybe I be."

"I don't know how you intended to resurrect someone, but-

"It's not resurrecting, her soul is alive, even if it's not in front of us, she's alive in our memories, and in the memories of everyone who knows her, and in her following stories ahead, like a haunting that doesn't go away, no Do you want to get rid of this curse?"

Could he subject himself to that?

Was Phoenix's soul still alive?

...

No.

No more.

Satoru will not be like his best friend, a desperate guy looking for meaning after losing his own.

He already has meanings, she is waiting for him at home, watching television, perhaps playing with dolls and searching his room for sweets.

He wasn't strong enough to protect her, but he will be strong enough to protect his ideas and pass them on.

"I'm fine like this, and I'm not going to accept your proposal, it wouldn't benefit me in...anything."

"..."

"I see, so know that we will be at complete odds from now on."

"Alright, we'll be ready."

With this, the comforting domain disperses with the wind, giving vision to a worn and old office, once a colorful place full of life, but now, it has just become just another one.

He knew that now there was going to be a war, he was arrogant enough to accept it, and arrogant enough to know that he will win.

It does not matter anymore.

He sat in the wheelchair watching Suguru leave the room, realizing that their ideals had separated them once again, like a barrier that had separated them since that day, that time he couldn't do anything for his best friend, joining his list of life regrets that he doesn't have the courage to shake off.

"Not even the strongest can protect everyone..."

Sighing, before looking at the picture frame with four figures, a woman with a clumsy flower crown in her flaming red hair, a cute and frowning kitten perched on her head, himself hugging his shoulder with one arm while in the other he held his entire life, slightly pink hair like theirs smiling beautifully at the camera, and a crown of flowers on his head, along with the smiles that everyone had.

Satoru smiled fondly as he looked at his family, running his finger gently over the photo.

"It's time."

Thank you for watching this, if you could contribute with reblogs and comments I would greatly appreciate it.❤️

English is not my first language, so there is a high chance of errors.

My previous posts:

Everything you let go | Itoshi Sae from Blue Lock

Rosy cheeks | Suguru Geto from Jujutsu Kaisen

[rainnartt]

A self indulgent Sophie and Marco 💛🩵

[inafieldofdaisies]

(WIP) Music Monday Tag | Tagged by @simplegenius042

The rules: Post a song that is relevant to your WIP or inspires it. I’m also including the lyrics.

I can play dirty, I won't have no mercy Drop a match on my white flag, burn it down, lay it on my grave I can be nasty, shoot you down in a backstreet Run the town, favorite blonde vigilante Blood on my guilty hands I'll go pour a drink, man, 'cause it's Friday Done with thinking, just wanna party Bet it sucks to be you, well, go figure You're the sucker who pulled the trigger Go pour a drink, man, 'cause it's Friday Got my best friend parked in my driveway While I sip gin and juice and fuck with ya Just remember who pulled the trigger

I started in a guarded place I was young, full of faith No one even knew my name But still, I chased, ran the race Do you know what I've been through? I've felt forsaken with lost truths Do you know what I've been through? I can taste triumph With the heart of a lion

You could be the endgame Eye of the hurricane Sleet in the pouring rain You would be the checkmate Loving what we became Riding the tidal wave You could the kingpin Changing the world again Sleep when the day is dead You would be my weakness Loving like Venus Rule the apocalypse

And we got caught in the storm At the end was the key to my heart You were my lover for life Oh, there's no time to sleep Oh, living in a dream So take me to the paradise in your eyes Green like American money You taste just right, sweet like Tennessee honey And we can run away, swimming in the sunlight everyday Oh, paradise in your eyes

Tagging, @strafethesesinners @strangefable @direwombat @socially-awkward-skeleton @la-grosse-patate

@rhettsabbott @marivenah @shellibisshe @purplehairsecretlair @cassietrn

@josephslittledeputy @josephseedismyfather @voidika @imogenkol @finding-comfort-in-rain

@gearvmac @trench-rot @thesingularityseries @hookhearted @onehornedbeast

@justasmolbard @simonxriley @aceghosts @theelderhazelnut @kyber-infinitygems

@carlosoliveiraa @wrathfulrook and anyone that would like to share some music <3

[aukkuli]

Random Marin: You wanna fight?! You got one!

Estella: Okay! *Raises fists*

*Marco runs in, scoops Estella up in their arms, and runs away carrying Them*

Random marine:

Random marine: What?

[cocoabubbelle-newblog]

My personal opinion

Spoilers

Marvel Writers: Hank McCoy/Beast is irredeemable. He is a despicable villain. The version you will see in the upcoming comics is a clone of himself with only up to his mid-1980s memories/portrayal. If original Beast does come back, it will still be as a villain and he can never come back to the original team as a hero. He has no one to blame but himself.

[hersheysmcboom]

Related to last question, I think the main problem is that pietro in aou was killed before he could be developed like Wanda, and what was shown is very similar to Peter maximoff, so can anyone help on that front?

[averagewriter-inthedark]

Living Up To The ‘Legacy’ ✈️ Epilogue | Top Gun Maverick Series

Takes place following the events of TGM

Read the series here -> Series Masterlist | TGM Masterlist

Characters & Pairings: Lt. Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x Barbara ‘Legacy’ Mitchell (romance), Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x daughter!OC (platonic), Lt. Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin (platonic), Lt. Robert ‘Bob’ Floy (platonic), Lt. Natasha ‘Phoenix’ Trace (platonic), pretty much the rest of the characters are platonic.

Content Warnings: MAJOR Fluff, profanity, light angst (one scene) but literally fluff all the way. Suggestive content, innuendoes. | Female OC (she/her) | wc: 10.1k

Premise: It’s been a long road since the Uranium mission, but a celebration is in order as Bradley Bradshaw and Barbara Mitchell come together to tie the knot for the second and last time ever, to finally start their future with friends and loved ones by their side.

Note: OMG I CANT BELIEVE THIS IS THE ACTUAL END!!! Lowkey crying right now 🥹 thank you all so so much who have been there since the beginning of this series and have liked, commented, reblogged, sent me messages of kind words and given me all the support. Thank you for waiting patiently as updates come (I know I’ve slacked on some of my other works because I had so much inspiration for this but I’m gonna be getting back to them!) Thank you to all who have followed me and checked out my other works, I’m gonna miss writing for Barbara and Bradley, but who knows what may come in the future. Right now, I will leave their future to your imagination ♥️ I hope you loved this as much as I did and see you in my next work!!

Barbara’s bachelorette party outfit, wedding dress, shoes, ring, veil

“Hey there, sailor.” The beer Rooster was lifting to his mouth stopped short. Turning his head, he was greeted with a pretty blue-eyed redhead smiling at him. There was determination in her eyes, something he often saw when women flirted with him. Not to mention she was leaning awfully close against the bar top.

Dressed in his khaki’s, Rooster flickered his eyes down to where his officer ranks were catching the light. Most civilians would not understand the difference, therefore he wasn’t gonna hold it against her. “Not enlisted, ma’am. The sailors you're looking for look like that,” his finger pointed to a group of enlisted men and women over by the darts table.

“Oh,” she laughed, like she found the joke to be funny. “Even better then. I don’t see many officers coming to this bar.”

‘She must not be a local then,’ Rooster thought silently, keeping his eyes ahead on the crowd in the middle of the makeshift dance floor. “Well there’s more than you think. Look for bars on the collar, and you’ll find one.”

The redhead, who he didn’t really care much to know the name of, stepped closer—her perfume wafting in Rooster's face. “Maybe I don’t need to look any further when I have you right here. What’s a lady got to do to get a drink from a naval officer?”

By now Bradley set his drink down, willing himself not to grin when his eyes connected with a certain someone looking thoroughly amused by the scene she was witnessing. The redhead caught his smile, thinking she had cracked him and gave a silent victory to herself.

Without looking at the redhead he goes, “What’s your name?”

“Krista,” she said as flirty as she could muster, a smirk forming on her lips that she may be successful in taking Rooster home. “What’s yours?”

“That’s not important right now,” he tilts his head and points a finger toward the crowd. “You see that woman dancing over there, Krista? With the gorgeous white outfit?”

Smirk now falling to a confused frown, Krista’s eyes follow Rooster’s gaze where they land on a dark haired woman in white dancing alongside another woman. Black hair fell just below her chin and her tanned body was adorned in a gorgeous white two piece set. The pants flared a bit at the end showcasing white heels with the iconic red bottoms and the top was almost bustier like—giving her assets a nice push. Krista could make out the distinct abs along with some tattoos peaking on her sides. The woman’s body was moving effortlessly to Timbaland’s ‘The Way I Are,’ and at one point began backing it up on the woman who was holding a beer bottle up in the air. When she did this, her head turned at just the right time to connect eyes with Krista, biting her lip as she smirked.

“I see her,” Krista mumbled, slowly putting the pieces together. From her peripheral she could see Rooster grinning, especially when the woman sent him a wink all while dancing on her friend. “Who is she to you?”

“That’s my fiancé, Barbara—who I am wifing up tomorrow,” Rooster finally turned to Krista, giving a shrug at her upset look. But he didn’t feel sympathy. There were plenty of single men in the bar she could find. “She’s the only I’m buying drinks for and gets to take me home tonight.”

They were getting married. Tomorrow. No wonder she was wearing white.

“O-oh.” Embarrassed and a little humiliated after noticing the bartender, Penny, was trying to hold back her laugh—obviously aware the man she was flirting with was off the market—Krista backs away. Her eyes find Barbara’s, finding the diamond ring on her left finger when she brings her hands up her body and over her head. It was catching the light and sparkling for everyone to see.

Face red and wanting to get as far away from the counter as possible, Krista spits out an apology before scurrying away back to her friends. They immediately bombarded her with questions like, ‘what the hell happened?’ ‘Did he seriously reject you?’ ‘Girl, there’s so many other hot guys here—don’t let it get to you.’ ‘I saw him point at that woman—who was she—his girlfriend?’

Rooster just shakes his head with a light laugh, going back to sipping his beer as he watches Barbara dance with Phoenix, Halo, and some of the partners of their colleagues. Penny comes over with another bottle when she sees his was almost empty, “Well, that was entertaining as always. What’s that, the third tonight?”

Rooster thanks her for the beer, downing the last bit of contents of the one in his hand. “Yup, how many has she had?” At that moment he notices another guy, a civilian, approaching his fiancé. He can’t hear what they’re saying, but like Rooster, Barbara doesn't even make eye contact with the dude until he says the magic words.

“That dude makes number four since she got on the dance floor,” Penny says, behind her Barbara is pointing to Rooster—who lifts his beer in cheers at the dude who now has the same expression as Krista did. “If you count the other two before you got here then it’s six. Most of them have already left.”

Rooster chuckles as he thinks, ‘not surprised.’ The years they were dating and first married, the two would always enjoy going to the bars with their friends and being on opposite sides just to watch the other reject patrons who tried to pick them up. It started off as something funny and broadened to almost a monthly ritual. Bradley would chill at the bar or pool tables with their friends while Barbara danced with Nat or whoever wanted to join her. It never failed, they always had at least one or two people approach.

Neither felt jealousy for they trusted the other and would never openly entertain the person flirting with them. They’d give the guy or girl a minute or two to say what they wanted, then they would point out each other to them and say things like, “That’s my man/woman and I plan to wake up to his/her face tomorrow morning. So try someone else, pal/ma’am.” Sometimes Barbara would take it further by saying something sexual to make the person uncomfortable. It always worked.

Speaking of, Barbara must’ve said something to fluster the poor guy because he was now red faced and nodding. Rooster could faintly make out the words, “My bad,” leave his lips before his back was turned to him as he stalked off. His fiancé appeared pleased, smirking and turning to face Phoenix who was covering her laugh with a hand.

‘What did you say?’ Rooster read her lips. Since he couldn’t see Barbara’s face, he was unable to read her own, but judging by the wide eyes of Nat who then threw her head back in laughter, it must’ve been good. Nat even went as far as to lightly slap Barb’s shoulder in mock disapproval.

Taking his beer, Rooster said to Penny, “I’ll be over there if she asks for me.” Penny nods, wiping down the surface as he stands from his stool and heads over to the pool tables where the guys were—minus Fanboy since he was dancing with a pretty brunette near the girls.

“The man of the hour!” Hangman shouts, arms out wide as the rest of the guys cheer. It catches Fanboy’s attention, he quickly kisses the cheek of the lady he was dancing with and speeds over to the group. If she was upset she didn’t show it, because next thing she knew she was being pulled by Barbara to join their circle.

Payback patted Rooster’s back, “Excited for tomorrow, Bradshaw?”

“Are you fucking kidding?” Jake snorts, “He hasn’t shut up about it all month!” Pink coats the top of Rooster’s ears, moving to sit on the chair beside Bob. “Anyone who has met him in the last two weeks would know in the first five minutes of conversation that he’s engaged.”

“Hey, that’s not a bad thing,” Mickey defends, taking a beer bottle from Coyote. He clicks it it’s Roosters.

“No, of course not,” Jake agrees. “I’m just saying It’s gotten to the point where it feels like I’m the one marrying Barbara because she’s the only topic of his everyday vernacular.”

Everyone laughs and there’s even some murmurs of agreement. Rooster just shakes his head, “Seresin, you wish you could hitch up someone like Barbara. Don’t lie.” He’ll never forget the first time Hangman met her, unaware she was married and tried to enact his playboy charm. The event left Jake with the reminder that if he saw the ring on a woman’s finger, to not even attempt it if he wanted to keep his self-esteem.

“She scares me too much,” Jake says with a serious tone, causing the guys to laugh again. A conversation soon flowed with many discussions about the following day’s events. So far everyone they had invited was going to be in attendance, including the Admirals, the Kazansky family, Penny & Amelia, and some of their friends from previous assignments. The whole detachment would be there, as would Barb’s mother, Charlie. She had landed in San Diego around noon and had gone to dinner with Sarah while Barb and Rooster had their conjoined Bachelor/Bachelorette parties at The Hard Deck.

The ceremony would take place just outside the bar on the beach. Penny, Charlie, Sarah, and most of the bridal party were going to arrive early in the morning to set everything up. After the ceremony they would come into the bar for the after party. There was already a sign outside the establishment stating they were not going to be open to the public in the evening due to a private event.

The last couple months had been chaotic for everyone in Fightertown. After the Uranium mission, Barbara had to deal with the aftermath of her actions. Although Maverick, Rooster, and the team had been praised and rewarded for their actions, none could do much regarding her pending court martial. Cyclone was adamant about going through. Not even Warlock could change his mind despite his best efforts.

The day of the hearing, Barbara was dressed in her Dress Whites, nervously tumbling with her fingers while Rooster paced in front of her. Maverick was seated on the bench next to her, hand on her shoulder to comfort her. Charlie wanted to be there for the trial, but the Pentagon had her on an assignment making her unable to attend. The two spoke everyday with Barbara giving updates on what she could since she was bound to confidentially until after the verdict.

Besides Cyclone, Warlock and some of the ground crew on base, Rooster and Maverick were asked to present statements to the board. Hondo and Phoenix were also summoned, surprising the younger Mitchell since she wasn’t expecting any of the team members to have to give evidence.

Barbara was put on the stand for a good day. When grilled by the opposing counsel, she remained calm and stoic to not let emotions get to her. She spoke honestly, never denying her actions. There was no way she would commit perjury on the stand and risk further consequences. When explaining the steps she took to steal the F-18 and why she did it, Barbara kept her gaze on the jury. She choked up at one point, but overall remained collected as to not appear to be over emotional or play victim.

She did wrong, she was going to own it.

Maverick brought her out of her thoughts when the clock reached another hour of deliberation, “Honey, whatever they decide, just know I’m always going to be here for you. I’m so proud of everything you’ve accomplished. No matter what happens today, you’re still the best of the best and have done the Navy a great service.”

“Thank you, dad,” she smiled softly, leaning against him when he maneuvered her arm around her shoulder. The words filled Barb with warmth, gratitude at the fact her father would support her no matter what. He pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, muttering “of course.”

Later that afternoon, the jury had reached a decision. Rooster and Maverick were unable to be in the courtroom. Both embraced Barbara with a hug—Rooster giving her a sweet kiss telling her it was going to be okay—and she followed behind her attorney, the doors closing behind her. When called to attention, Barbara kept her eyes forward, standing as still as she possibly could and mentally preparing herself to not physically react to whatever the judge would read.

The paper was handed to him after confirming with the jury foreman they had reached a unanimous decision. Her heart pounded, the woman breathing through her nose deeply as he spoke, “Lt. Barbara Mitchell, there is no denying your actions were reckless, dangerous, and could have very well have cost the Navy millions in damages and lawsuits if you the outcome was different then the one it was. Any other scenario and you would be discharged from service effective immediately…however,” Barbara felt the air catch in her throat, squeezing her fists tighter.

“After hearing from members of your detachment, had it not been for you and your father’s actions, the mission on the Uranium enrichment plant that remarkably had no fatalities, probably would have been a different story if Admiral Simpson had gone through with the changing of parameters.” In the corner of her eyes, Barbara caught Cyclone’s head falling. He was seated by the opposing counsel since he had been the one to bring forth charges.

“With that being said, the court has spoken. You will be placed on suspension from flying for a time period of half a year; you will be demoted from your rank of Lieutenant back to Lieutenant Junior Grade; and you will pay a fine of a pending supplement to be determined at a later date. Until further notice you are to remain at Fightertown where you will be an assistant instructor to incoming cadets at Top Gun,” the navy judge looks up to give the woman a pointed glance, “best way to keep an eye on ya. My advice would be to please not cut the already half broken string you’re hanging onto. After this there will be no hearing or trial, you will just be discharged.”

“Yes sir,” Barbara immediately says, exhaling with immense relief. “Thank you, sir, and to the court.” After final remarks from both counsels, the judge and jury exits before Barbara is dismissed. She about faces, letting her shoulders drop and moving to shake the hand of her attorney, “Thank you so much for all you’ve done. I owe you.” When she turns to make way to the doors, Barb catches Cyclone's eyes. He looks somewhat defeated, but overall like he expected the outcome. All he does is nod to her, a silent gesture she understood was his way of saying ‘you got lucky this time, Mitchell.’

Fuck yeah she did.

Yeah she was going to be paying a lot of money for the next few years, couldn’t fly until the summer, and lost the rank she had just been promoted to, but at least she was still a naval aviator. At least she was still going to have her job.

In the meantime Barbara was going to have to be a teacher. Mentally she thought, ‘are they sure that’s a good idea? Having me teach at the place that was the reason I was in court in the first place? They’ll regret it.’

Shaking off the thoughts, Barbara hurried out of the room and was met with her father and fiancé practically jumping from the bench. They had seen Cyclone’s face when he exited and it was evident in the looks they were giving her. Rooster was the first to approach her, walking her over to a corner out of prying ears with Maverick hot on their heels.

She waited until they were fully stopped, turning in his arms to face both of them. “Before you start running your mouths, you can both breathe a sigh of relief. I’m not getting kicked out.” Both visibly reacted, Mav going as far as to bend over to put his hands on his knees, “Thank God.”

Rooster embraced Barb, not caring they were in uniform and said the same, “That’s great to hear, baby.”

“Yeah, but it’s not all sunshine and rainbows,” she pulled away so she could relay the rest. Both the men understood. While they were sad for her and thought some of it was a little harsh, getting demoted and paying a fine was better than having a dishonorable discharge. “I wanna do something for Phoenix and Hondo. I think their testimony was what really broke Cyclone’s case, especially after you showed them how essential it was to have the parameters you set, dad.”

“Of course,” Mav agreed and Rooster nodded, “We’ll plan something for them.” When Barb voiced her gratitude to them, they both waved her off saying they would do it again in a heartbeat. The three went to a restaurant to celebrate before meeting up with the others to break the news, with Hangman buying a round as the cheers sounded. After calling it a night Rooster and Barbara hurried away—to their now shared home—to celebrate in their own way.

Planning for the wedding was the next step after Barbara adjusted to her new position at Top Gun. She couldn’t fly just yet and instead was tasked with teaching the lectures. Rooster always looked forward to her coming home after work because she would rant to him about the latest recruit who got on her nerves. There was always someone who would interrupt, act cocky, or go on their own. “Remind you of someone?” He would say, to which he received a glare. Several people could fit the description: Hangman for sure, Maverick at any point in his career, and even Barbara herself.

It was decided the wedding would be an intimate event with only about 30 or so people. There was the detachment (12), Barb’s parents (2), the Kazanskys (3-5), Cyclone, Warlock, Hondo and their wives, Penny, Amelia, and four other close friends from previous duty stations. They did not want to have it in the summer because of how hot it would be and instead voted for mid-spring. Penny offered to host the reception/after party at The Hard Deck after Barbara confessed she did not want a church wedding and thought the beach was perfect. And when Barbara pulled out her checkbook asking Penny to name her price, the older woman snatched it saying, “No, this is my gift to you two. There is no charge.”

Phoenix, the matron of honor, went with Barb to pick out her dress—at the last minute too because they were so busy with work it slipped their mind. The first time Barb and Rooster married it was at the courthouse and she literally wore a baby blue sundress with Rooster sporting his usual Hawaiian shirt. “There’s no way I’m trying on more than five dresses, Phee,” Barbara warned, running a hand over the white fabric of a pretty lace number. “I just want something simple. It’s a beach wedding so nothing heavy and a pain to get on and off.”

“Something like this then?” Nat removed a pure silk dress with spaghetti straps and an open back. It flowed down to the floor and was mermaid style meaning it would fit tight when on. It was gorgeous. Simple yet stunning.

“Exactly like that,” Barb breathed in awe, hands going to feel the material. It was so soft—literally like her silk pillow cases. “It’s perfect.” With the dress in hand, Barbara and Nat accessorized, grabbing a veil that had pearls embedded all over it, Christian Louboutin shoes—which were for the after party since there was no way and hell she would wear them on a sandy beach—pearl hair pins, and finishing it with white rimmed sunglasses.

The perfect ending touch.

Now here they were the night before Barbara was set to remarry the love of her life. She and Rooster agreed on having a somewhat conjoined bachelor/bachelorette get together at The Hard Deck. It was Friday night and one of the rare times the Dagger Squad was reunited after the Uranium mission. Several had returned to their squadrons or were transferred to new ones upon promotion. Rooster made it his mission to remain in Fightertown and thankfully his request was granted. He didn’t waste any time, moving into Barbara’s house just days later with the help of Maverick and the guys.

It was a great night at The Hard Deck with the place buzzing with excitement. The guys were shooting pool, playing darts, drinking and chatting when a certain Mitchell finally made her way over to the aviator she had yet to say hi to. Rooster was already grinning when she came around the corner, hands going to his knees as she stopped in front of him, “Hey, pretty boy.”

“Hey, baby girl.” Barbara licked her bottom lip that was coated in red lipstick, Rooster’s eyes catching the movement causing arousal to fill him. He loved when she did that. “Having fun?”

“Oh absolutely,” she slightly bent her body so they were eye level, hands still on his knees that were touching her own. The heels she was wearing made her taller and with her position Rooster got a great view of her cleavage. “The music’s blasting, the night is young. My sexy fiancé has his eyes on me. I’m having a lot of fun.” The glint in her eyes paired with a matching smirk makes his pants go tight. Rooster tries not to react, especially with the heat of her hands on his knees.

“You’ve got quite the admirers, Barbara Mitchell,” he teases, placing the beer on the empty chair beside him. Bob had got up to play a round of pool with Fanboy and Hangman was currently flirting at the bar. Everyone else had either gone to dance or stand to the side to continue their conversations.

“As do you, Bradley Bradshaw,” Barbara gently spread her legs, moving to straddle the man—not giving a fuck he was in uniform and they were in public. Rooster's arms immediately went around her exposed waist, hands resting just above her ass. Her skin was warm under his palm. Barbara clicked her tongue, “Wanna enlighten me on why I got a pretty redhead over at the booths and a blondie by the jukebox sending daggers at me?”

Rooster’s eyes never left hers, though he could make out in the distance the blonde—who’s name he already forgot—by the jukebox with her attention on them. “Probably the same reason why the guy in a Padres cap looks like he wishes I didn’t exist,” he chuckled. The moment Barbara had walked over to him he was already scouting out the reactions of all the people who had tried to hit on them. They all had the same face: disappointment, envy, and bitterness.

“I may have been a little harsh on the jab when he failed to back off. Told him I’d get that bell rung—he wasn’t happy about that.”

Rooster looked proud at that, “I’d expect nothing less from you.” His hands rubbed her sides where her skin was exposed, brushing over the ink of her tattoos. “I’m curious to know what you told that last guy that approached you. He looked horrified when he walked away.” A mischievous smirk appeared on her lips making Rooster tilt his head, “What did you say?”

She quickly changed her expression to one of innocence, “I just told him the same as the others. I pointed you out to him, said, ‘This time tomorrow that man is gonna be my husband,’ Barbara then leaned in so her lips were by Rooster’s ears, voice going low. “And I may have added that you’re the only one who gets to take me home with the promise of coming inside me tonight.”

A sharp breath nearly had Rooster choking, hands now gripping his fiancé. “Fucking hell, Barbara,” Rooster groaned, willing himself not to show his reaction when he spotted Mav entering the Hard Deck. Thankfully the man couldn’t see him from where they were sitting and he beelined to Penny. But still, Rooster didn’t want his soon to be father-in-law for the second time to catch he was five seconds from hauling Barbara into the bathroom to fuck her now that he was sporting a hard on that was making his mind fuzzy. It didn’t help she was pressing light kisses on his neck, gently biting his earlobe as she giggled.

She obviously felt his reaction to her words. She was relishing the fact she riled him up which only made him pull her away from his neck. Rooster gave her hips another warning squeeze, “Tread carefully, baby girl,” he said with a pointed look. “We wouldn’t want to spoil the party by leaving early do we?”

“Would that really be a bad idea?” She challenged, making him groan when she—not so innocently—moved her hips just a tad, her groin brushing over his own. “The way you were looking at me as I dance made me think I’d be in the Bronco by now.”

“As much as I would love to throw you over my shoulder and take you home right this second, I do not want to have to explain to your father why we’re leaving just when he arrives.” To emphasize his point he shifts and pats her ass to get off him. She does so, but before she could sit on the other chair Rooster pulls her back into his lap so her back was to him. “So I expect you to behave the rest of the night,” he whispers into her ear, noticing goosebumps forming along her arms. “Otherwise you’re gonna have some trouble walking down that aisle after I’m done with you.”

Barbara bit her lip, suppressing a moan. Leaning back into his chest, she tilted her chin up so her mouth was beside his jaw, “You say that as if it’s not what I want.” Goddamn it, she was always one step ahead.

Rooster curses, “You minx.” Next thing Barbara knew his mouth was attacking her neck in kisses. She squealed at the tickling sensation of his mustache on her skin, squirming away when fingers began dancing up and down her sides.

“Okay! Okay—I yield! Have mercy!” Her laughter continues to ring out, but his kisses don’t stop. “I’ll behave, I promise!” Finally his attack seizes, the man placing a final kiss to her jaw and pulling her close in a hug.

At that moment, Mav had spotted them, smiling as he approached, “There’s the happy couple.” Barbara’s laugh calmed down but the grin remained, “Hi, dad. You made it!” Tapping Rooster’s hand, he let go of her so Barb could embrace Mav. Rooster took the opportunity to adjust his pants, placing a forearm over his semi-hard dick that was threatening to ruin the night.

“Of course I would make it,” Mav scoffs as they pull away. In his hands was a good sized gift bag, making Barbara narrow her eyes and go, “What is that?” She specially said no presents until the wedding knowing her friends and family tended to go all out and wanted to give them essentials leading up to the day. Her excuse was “we’ve been married before, I’ve lived on my own for three years, we don’t need anything.” She should have known her father would not listen.

“I know you said no gifts tonight, but,” he presents the bag to her, “I believe you can make one exception for you dad.” Huffing, but showing gratitude, Barbara reluctantly accepts the bag with a shake of the head. Her father just chuckles, expecting the reaction and watches as she removes the tissue paper to reveal a shoebox sized Tiffany & Co. blue box. Immediately she stills, “Dad.”

Obsessed with Audrey Hepburn as a kid, she damn well knew all there was about the famed jewelry company. Breakfast At Tiffany’s was her favorite movie growing up. It was her dream to one day own a piece by them and sometimes for fun she would go on the website just to look at the recent collections. The reason she had never splurged on them was because she hardly wore jewelry due to her job. The current engagement ring on her finger from Rooster was the most extravagant thing she owned—and nearly had a heart attack when he presented it to her.

So yeah, as much as she loved window shopping for jewelry, Barbara never spent money on it. She wasn’t even planning on wearing anything to the wedding but the ring and possibly borrowing a pair of tiny pearl earrings from her mom.

Now there was an iconic Tiffany blue box in her hands.

“I remember when you were a girl you’d always want to watch that old sixties Audrey Hepburn movie—and how you begged for a movie poster of it for your eight birthday,” Barbara’s eyes teared up, chuckling at the memory her dad mentioned. She couldn't believe he remembered.

Mav nodded to the box in her hands, “Your mom told me that when you guys went to New York for your high school graduation, you pretty much disappeared and she found you glued to the window of the Tiffany & Co. shop.” Now the air had caught in her throat, realizing that just the week before Mav was in D.C for TDY. He must’ve met up with Charlie without telling her and then took a trip up to New York to go physically to the store.

“She also told me you asked to borrow a pair of her earrings—saying you weren’t going to have any other jewelry on since you didn’t own much,” Now he was scratching the back of his neck, a nervous laugh escaping at the look she was giving him. It was unreadable, but the glossy sheen of her eyes indicated she was becoming emotional.

“You went to Tiffany’s?” The best way to describe Barbara’s voice was that of a child opening up a gift on Christmas to find it was something they wanted all year. “T-to get me..” the words trail off, Barbara looking back at the box to make sure it was really in her hands. That it wasn’t some joke. But no, the box in her hand felt a little heavy proving it was really there. Her heart was speeding at a rapid rate—he really got her jewelry from Tiffany’s.

“I asked Phoenix if she could help me decide what was the best thing to get—since she’s your maid of honor. She told me your veil has pearls in it, so I went that direction.” With shaky hands, Barbara slowly unwraps the ribbon and opens the box to reveal six smaller Tiffany boxes lying inside.

“Oh my God, dad,” she sniffs, aware that several tears have leaked down her cheek. It wasn’t so much the fact he bought her jewelry for her wedding day that made Barbara emotional, it was the message behind it. Pete remembered how much she adored the movie as a child and went as far as to go to the store she admired from afar to get buy—probably worth an entire month's rent and bills—a gift knowing it would make her happy.

She was more than happy. Barbara was on cloud 9. Her childhood heart was crying and so was her teenage and adult self.

Feeling Rooster come beside her, he gently took the box from her shaking hands to hold it so she could individually open each. “Did you know about this,” she accused after catching the wink he sent Mav and how he was looking at her with adoration.

“Maybe,” he kisses her temple.

“I can’t believe you two—especially you!” She points a finger at her father, who grins bashfully. Before she opens either of the boxes she basically tackles Mav in a hug causing him to playfully groan. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, so so much, dad,” she says, her tone mixed between a laugh and a cry. “I love you so much—this is the best gift ever.”

“You haven’t even opened it yet,” he chuckles and she playfully slaps his shoulder, but doesn't pull away from the hug.

“I don’t care! Whatever it is I’m going to love it because it’s from you and you spend God knows how much for me to have it on my wedding day. You remembered how obsessed I was with that movie and I can’t even think of the words to describe how that makes me feel.” She feels him kiss the top of her head, hands rubbing her back in a comforting way.

Mav often had trouble saying words, but that didn’t stop him from expressing how much his daughter meant to him in other ways. He could remember almost everything from when she was a child—though the times they spent together were scarce and he often relied on the updates from Charlie. Her love for old Hollywood movies and actresses was always a big part of her childhood. There was no way Mav would forget that.

They pull away, Mav kissing Barb on the cheek before she finally opens the first box. It was the smallest of the bunch and revealed to be a pair of stunning pearl earrings with silver backings in the cushion. Instantly she recognized them as part of the Ziegfeld Collection. “Oh they’re beautiful,” she breathes out, taking a finger to brush over the smooth surface of one of the pearls. Then Barbara does a double take between the earrings and the remaining five boxes, snapping her head to Mav with wide eyes, “You did not.”

A blush coats his cheek, the man scratching his jaw to stop from grinning, “When the lady helping me at the store showed me the display, I just couldn’t help myself. I thought why not have the whole thing.”

“You fucking madman!” She exclaimed, covering her face with her free hand.

Maverick bought her the entire Ziegfeld collection from Tiffany’s.

By now Phoenix, Halo, and Penny had come over to see what the fuss was about. They all gasped at the sight of Rooster with a large Tiffany box in his hands and several matching ones laying inside it. “Oh my gosh!” “No way—that’s amazing!” “Nice work, Mav!”

Barabara was literally crying, hiding her face when Rooster used his free arm to pull her against him. She couldn’t describe the emotion raging inside her. Her father really outdid himself—all so she could have something special on her wedding day and long after.

Each time she collected herself to open a box she was met with more tears and giggles. Those giggles one has when they are trying to comprehend what’s happening and can’t help but laugh. Yeah, that was Barbara everytime.

One buy one with the onlookers of her friends and father, Barbara opens the Tiffany boxes to reveal the entirety of the Ziegfeld collection consisting of two pairs of pearl earrings—one studs, the other dangly—a pearl bracelet, and three pearl necklaces—the 5-6mm that went on like a choker, the 6-7mm (which was like the 5-6mm but the pearls were slightly bigger), and the 6-7mm wrap that had two layers of pearls and went down to just above the belly button.

“Jesus Christ, Pete Mitchell,” Barbara groans with a smile, taking the tissue from Penny with thanks to wipe her eyes. There was no doubt her mascara was gone and mentally noted to touch it up in the bathroom. She let out a breath, finally calming down. “I cannot believe you got me the whole damn collection. And don’t think I don’t know how much you spent! I know that the wrap necklace is fifteen hundred dollars by itself.”

Mav shook his head at her words. Leave it to Barbara to know the prices of Tiffany’s jewelry. “How do you know how much I spent, Barbara?” She gives him a look that reads, ‘you underestimate my ability.’ He waves a hand, “Nevermind don’t answer that. But I’m glad you like it.”

“Like it?!” She scoffed, “I fucking love it—are you kidding?! Dad—,” she goes to hug him again as Rooster takes it upon himself to carefully put all the boxes together and close the large one so they are safely stored. He then puts it in the gift bag and tells Penny to hide it somewhere no one could find it until they are ready to leave for the night.

“It’s the most thoughtful, amazing, beautiful gift I’ve ever received. I can’t thank you enough for it.” She pulls away to smile and joke, “Now the hardest decision I have to make is which ones to wear tomorrow—since you got me the whole display,” she playfully slaps his chest with the back of her hand as he laughs with her.

“Anything for my little girl on her special day. Even if it is the second one for her, but the first for me.”

She snorts, “at least it’s the same groom.”

The night continues to rage on with the squad having the time of their lives. Mav orders a round for the group, another chick tries to hit on Bradley and is met with disappointment and Barbara tears it up on the dance floor with Phoenix, Fanboy, and Coyote—calling back to the one they had on the beach. Only this time, Rooster cuts in causing their group to hollar with cheers. Though he is not much of a dancer like Barb, the man’s got some moves.

And finally Hangman got his chance to twirl Barb to Elvis’ ‘Hound Dog.’ When the dance came to an end, Barbara out of breath went, “I didn’t know you could swing, Seresin.” Her words are returned with a wink, “I’m a man of many talents, C.”

As the night came to an end and the bar slowly cleared, hugs were exchanged with the promise of being on time to the wedding. Ubers were called for the ones who had too much to drink. When Barbara went to close her and Rooster’s tab she was met with, “It’s already been paid, honey,” and a wink from Penny. She made a mental note to do something nice for the woman once she returned from the honeymoon.

With the gift bag in hand and heels in the other, Barbara gave one last hug to her father and Penny after saying goodbyes to everyone else. Rooster was just finishing up with the guys when he took her hand and led her to the parking lot.

“Did you have fun tonight, baby?” Rooster asked, practically lifting her into the passenger seat. She wasn’t drunk but after a few cocktails she did feel a little tipsy. She had just started to sober up as they reached the final hour of the night.

“So much fun,” she buckled her seatbelt, gently turning to place the gift bag containing her new jewelry in the back, before turning to him. Fingers went up to the color of his uniform shirt, pulling him close so their mouths were barely brushing against each other, “But now I’m looking forward to our private party, Lieutenant.”

Chills appeared on his arm, the tightness in his pants returning. He saw her smirk, no doubt catching the hunger in his eyes. She flicked her tongue against her lip adding, “was I a good girl tonight? Or do you feel the need to punish me? I’m hoping for the latter.”

His hand came to her thigh, gripping it as he brought his lips to hers in a soft kiss. Which was the complete opposite of the words leaving him that had Barbara clenching her thighs together as familiar moisture gathered between them.

“I’m going to take pleasure in watching you struggle to walk down that aisle, babygirl.”

“You ready, dad?” Barbara clutched onto the small bouquet of daisies in her right hand with her left on Pete’s elbow. Butterflies consumed her stomach as she watched her friends take their seats.

It was a truly beautiful day. Not a cloud in the sky as the sun shined down on the scene before her. Penny, Phoenix, Halo, her mother, and everyone who was involved in the planning did an amazing job decorating The Hard Deck and the area leading onto the beach. Chairs were laid on either side of the white fabric laid on the sand to represent the aisle. Off to the side (as per military wedding tradition) were the flags of Barbara and Rooster’s unit and to the left of them was the American Flag. There was a wooden platform at the end where the officiant and Rooster stood. The man looked handsome as ever in his Dress Whites.

One one side of the aisle were members of their found Top Gun family. Cyclone and Warlock were seated at the front with their wives and the remaining daggers behind them—also in their Dress Whites. On the opposite side Charlie sat at the front with an empty chair reserved for Mav beside her. Penny and Amelia sat at the end with Theo laying on the sand beside their feet. Attached to the dog’s back was the cushion holding the wedding bands.

Between Maverick's seat and Penny, two framed pictures stood tall.

Goose and Carol. Who were there in spirit.

Barbara insisted on having the pictures of their loved ones who had passed in the ceremony. She nearly fired the photographer when they suggested it would look better to have the empty chairs off to the side instead of in the main gallery. It was the only time she ever displayed the stereotypical ‘bridezilla.’ “Absolutely not. I want his parents beside mine and that’s final. I do not care if it looks odd with spaces in the photos. I’ll find another photographer if I have to.”

The Kazansky’s were behind her parents—where a picture of Ice was placed on the seat next to Sarah.

“You’re asking me that, honey?” Mav scoffed, adjusting the collar of his uniform.

“You look a little red,” she points out. Maverick had been quiet the second they got to the area just out of sight from the doorway where they would enter. Barbara shoved a couple tissues into his pant pocket, causing him to playfully glare. “Just in case,” she winked.

“Stop it. I’m not gonna cry.”

‘Sure you’re not, old man,’ she silently thought. Just ten minutes before she caught him rubbing his eyes after they did the first look.

At that moment Phoenix was approaching them from the side. The brunette looked beautiful in her lavender pantsuit with hair curled down and matching pearl pins like Barbara. There had been no strict dress code really, but given it was a Navy wedding the Dress Whites were mandatory, however, since Nat was Maid of Honor (and Best Woman) she was allowed to wear what she pleased.

“Almost showtime, C,” she beamed, clapping her hands excitedly.

“Is it a bad time to throw up?”

“Oh stop it,” Nat fixed the veil and adjusted the pearl necklace. Barbara had decided on the 5-6mm single strand necklace with the studs. The bracelet was clasped on Barb’s left wrist. They were the perfect compliment to the look since Barb was going for a timeless and soft appearance with her hair and makeup. Since she didn’t have pockets in the dress, Phoenix was holding onto the sunglasses she would need for pictures and the after party. “This isn’t your first rodeo.”

Barbara’s face was incredulous. “Nat, my first wedding was at the courthouse with you, Rooster, and my mom. We literally drove up like it was a drive thru, got married—no rings mind you and the guy looked like he had just woken from a nap—then went to Chili's to catch happy hour.”

Nat puckered her lips to not burst into laughter, but Barbara’s expression had her falter, the two falling into giggles as they replayed the memory in their minds. Mav just shook his head, though he could be heard chuckling at their antics.

“Okay-okay, you make a fair point,” Nat wiped under her eyes, calming down since she was about to kick off the ceremony. “I shouldn’t judge since this is technically like your first wedding.” Barbara made a sound of agreement that was teasing, and Phoenix quickly made any last minute touch ups to her friend before checking the time. “Well, C, it’s time. You look absolutely stunning,” she gently takes Barb into a hug, careful not to mess up the veil. “I’ll see you at the end of the aisle.

“Thank you for everything, Nat.” Barb squeezes her hand before she goes. A soft melody begins to play from the speakers causing the guests to turn in their seats. Nat winks at Barb before taking a breath and walking out the opened door. The pair watch her disappear down the aisle, Barbara clutching the bouquet and her dad's arms a little tighter when the instrumental tune of ‘Turning Page’ reaches her ears. “Don’t let me fall, dad.”

“Never, honey,” Mav sniffs, already getting emotional as he places his free hand on top of the hers. “I love you so much.”

Water lines her eyes, “I love you too.” The guests stand in their seats, all turned to face Barbara and Pete as they step out the door. The only person capturing pictures was the photographer who also had an iPad set out to record a video. Barbara silently thanked whoever above she had friends and family respectful enough to not have their devices out.

When she met Bradley’s eyes, it was as though time had stopped.

Nearly faltering in her step, Barbara takes a deep breath and continues to hold onto Mav as he leads her onto the aisle. It takes everything in her not to react when she catches Rooster wiping his eyes, there’s even a slight tremor in his hand.

He’s not the only one overcome with emotion. Charlie, Sarah, and Penny all have tissues in their hands, bringing them up every once and while to remove moisture from their face. The dagger squad is beaming at Barbara. Even Warlock looked happy, which was comical next to Cyclone’s stoic expression—he does give a nod to Barbara though when she passes.

Mav stops when they reach Charlie, Barbara moving to embrace her mother who kisses the side of her head. “You look so beautiful, my love.”

“Thank you, mama.” They approach the wooden platform, Mav helping Barbara up with Phoenix coming to fix the skirt of her dress so it didn’t catch anything. The crowd and Rooster laugh when Penny tosses Nat Barbara’s shoes, the bride waving a hand while saying, “nothing to see here folks,” as she changes out of the sandals designated for walking the aisle. Luckily the song had ended at that moment.

Finally Barb hands Nat the bouquet and takes Mav’s arm once more. They approach Rooster, who still is chuckling at his soon-to-be-wife-again antics, and wait for the officiant to begin.

“Who gives this woman away?”

Pete turns to Barbara, beaming with tears in his eyes, “Her mother and I do. And those we love who are no longer with us.” At the instruction of the officiant, Maverick hands over his daughter to Rooster, but not before pressing a kiss to her cheekbone. “I’m so proud of you, honey.”

“Thank you, dad,” she whispers, kissing his cheek in return and watching him go take his seat beside her mother. Rooster gently brought her to stand before him, his voice going low to say, “You look marvelous, baby.” A blush forms on her cheek, the woman sending a wink, “The same goes for you, pretty boy.”

The officiant makes the opening statements. All the while the two never stray their eyes off each other even when they laugh at snide jokes made during their vows. Rooster could barely keep it together at times and just wanted to swipe Barbara off her feet. When it finally did come time to kiss her, a squeal left her as Rooster wasted no time by dipping her back and planting his mouth to hers.

Cheers and claps sounded around them followed by the snapping of the photographer's camera. Maverick was blowing his nose into a tissue, not caring to hide his emotions anymore. His little girl was married….again, but that’s not important. It filled him with absolute joy seeing her so happy and with Rooster nonetheless.

The guys were cheering the loudest, Payback even bringing his fingers up to whistle causing Barbara to giggle into the kiss. When they pulled away she was nearly out of breath. “Well that’s one way to take the air from a girl.”

Rooster smirked, kissing her again before pulling Barb up to stand straight, “Had to throw you off your feet somehow since you managed to walk perfectly fine.” Heat consumed her, the woman having to turn away from the crowd as Rooster laughed at her reaction. The cheers become louder as the officiant shouts, “I give you Lieutenants Bradley and Barbara Bradshaw!” At that moment Hangman, Coyote, Fanboy, Payback, Bob, Omaha, Harvard, and Yale all lined up on either side of the aisle, facing their partner for the Arch of Swords. Together they lift the swords that were attached to their sides in the air forming a tunnel the couple would have to pass through.

Phoenix moves to lift Barbara’s skirt while Rooster helps his wife down onto the sand. The second the bouquet is back in her hands Barbara is hauled into his arms. “Bradley!” Her laughter echoes, the man holding her close as he walks them through the tunnel of swords before placing her down when Harvard and Yale drop theirs to stop them. The couple kiss, camera capturing the moment and the pilots lift the swords back up for them to pass.

The rest of the guests follow behind them into The Hard Deck where the remainder of typical wedding traditions follow. They had their first dance, Mav and Barb shared a father-daughter dance while Rooster danced with Charlie. Rooster presented Barb with a ceremonial saber for them to cut the cake which made for great pictures. Champagne was popped and poured on the tower of glasses Penny had put together.

The party was in full blast with everyone dancing, singing, taking photos, and overall having a grand time. There was even a photo booth Barbara didn’t know how the hell got there—when asked she missed the way Phoenix, Bob, and Fanboy were high-fiving in victory behind her. She and Rooster were the first to use it with the two making silly faces and kissing in each snapshot. She and Phoenix had one together before bringing Halo and Payback’s wife in. Rooster took several with the guys and they were hilarious. Each time they had done it, one of the four pics appeared blurry because they had trouble fitting everyone into frame.

Barbara’s favorite photos were the ones with her parents. Maverick and Charlie were on either side of her with the two kissing her cheeks, wearing sunglasses while doing blue steel, and just smiling wide for the camera. She even did one with Penny and Amelia before the night was over.

Speaking of Penny…she was the one to catch the bouquet. Maverick’s eyes went wide and Barbara saluted her drink in a cheer, winking to show it was intentional. Even Charlie was in on it, the two women clicking their glasses and silently making bets to see how long Pete would take to pop the question, “I give it a year.”

At one point she was pulled away by the photographer for some single shots—which she made sure to have her sunglasses on in several. Then there were ones with her parents, the guys of the Dagger squad which was chaos in itself, just her and Phoenix, the Kazansky family, the Admirals, and finally some couple shots with Rooster. He thoroughly enjoyed the ones with her on his lap or kissing her.

And it wouldn’t have been a party with Barbara Bradshaw in attendance if she wasn’t on the dance floor. She didn’t know how her feet were not hurting after nearly an hour of strictly dancing with pretty much every guest. All the women belted out the lyrics to Cyndi Laupher’s ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun,’ and Whitney Houston’s ‘I Wanna Dance With Somebody.’ The guys were rapping along to Kendrick Lamar and Post Malone. When Ritchie Valen’s ‘La Bamba,’ started to play, one nod from Fanboy and the two were spinning across the floor to the claps of their friends.

As the night drew on, Barbara found herself on the deck for some air. The sun had set and stars lined the sky with the calming noise of the ocean waves. Barbara closed her eyes with a deep inhale, letting her mind drift to the memories of the past couple years.

It had been a rollercoaster. That was the simple way to describe it.

This time last year Barbara was a single woman not believing for once she would get a second chance at love—with Rooster at that. She was sure their time was of the past despite the longing in her heart to get him back. Then there was the fact she hadn’t spoken to her father in years, mostly out of shame and personal resentment that he really wasn’t at fault for. Ice was alive and doing everything he could do to keep Barbara out of trouble.

Things were completely different.

Rooster was her husband again, Pete was in her life where they spoke almost on a day-to-day basis, and Ice has passed on. There was also the fact she was back to LTJG when this time last year she had just pinned on Lieutenant. But she would get it back. She was determined to.

“What’s that smile for, Mrs. Bradshaw?” The presence behind Barbara follows the voice, the woman turning to meet her husband’s loving gaze.

“Just thinking,” she replied, leaning against the railing as his hand came to brush the hair from face. The veil had already been removed and safely tucked away.

“About?”

“You. Us. Everything,” she lists off. He chuckles, moving to take a seat on one of the chairs and gently bringing her onto his lap, smoothing out the fabric of her dress.

“All good things I hope,” he says against her temple, kissing the warm skin. She nods against his touch, fingers brushing over his medals and ribbons.

“It’s always good. Even when I think of the bad times I’m reminded of all the good that came after it. When I think of the regret from not talking to my father all those years, I know to cherish the fact I have him back in my life. When I think of being demoted, it gives me the motivation to earn it back. When I miss Ice, I think of how proud he would be of us all,” her eyes flicker to his hazel-brown ones, shifting her body so she was straddling him. Her hands cup his cheeks, pressing their chests together, “And when I think of what happened between us, it fills me with bliss that we have a second chance. I’m grateful each and everyday to have you by my side. To love and adore you for the rest of our lives.”

“Oh, darlin’,” Rooster sighs, winding his arms around her waist to cradle her. The fabric of her dress was smooth beneath his palms. Rooster kisses her with all the love and passion he could muster. Taking her breath away like he did on the altar. “You don’t understand how I wake up each morning and thank God you’re there. Sometimes I have to pinch myself because I still think it’s a dream,” his thumb wipes away a tear that fell on her cheek.

“You’re the only person I want to walk through life with. I want us to have that house we always talked about with dogs and a bunch of kids. I wanna hold your hair back when the morning sickness hits and be your shoulder to cry on. I want it all with you, baby. Always have. And I hope when we’re old and gray, that I’m the one to go first because my heart won’t take living on an Earth where you’re not there.”

The tears began to fall at a rapid rate, Barbara’s bottom lip trembling, “We’ll go together then because I can’t imagine waking up to an empty bed without your arms around me. You’ll take my soul with you so expect me to be not far behind.” She wiped away his own tears, closing the gap between them—her arms going around his neck while his own tightened on her waist.

When they pulled away she kept her mouth close to his, whispering, “I want all those things too. You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted them with.” His left hand goes to cup her cheek, the metal of his wedding ring cool against her skin.

“Then let’s have them, Barbara Bradshaw.”

Twenty-Three Years Later

“It is my honor to welcome you all to the graduation of the Naval Academy’s Class of Twenty-Forty-Two! Let me start by thanking all the parents, siblings, grandparents, friends, loved ones and anyone else who came out today to celebrate this milestone for our graduating cadets….”

The brown curly haired boy teenager with bright emerald eyes like his grandfather, leaned over to whisper to his mother, “How long is this going to be?” He was received with a look of disapproval, reading, ‘are you serious right now?’

“The ceremony just started, Nico, have some patience and respect. It’s your sister’s college graduation for God’s sake! In two years we’ll be doing the same thing for you and five years after that for Tommy.” She turned away from him, eyes scanning over the football field to find her daughter in the crowd of her peers. With it being alphabetical, she should have been seated near the front.

Tommy, the fifteen-year-old in question with dark locks like his mother and brown eyes, snickered and nodded to the stars on her collar, “Maybe by then you’ll be a four-star Admiral, mom.”

“Don’t challenge her, Tommy,” their father playfully scolds, though there is a smirk on his lips. “She just made Vice last month after only being Rear Upper Half for two years.” His own three-stars on the collar of his uniform reflected against the sunlight. He had earned them just four years before.

“What can I say,” she leans back in her seat with a smug smile, “getting demoted made me an overachiever.”

He takes her hand and leaves a kiss to her knuckles where her wedding ring lay, “One of the many things I love about you, Barbara Bradshaw.”

Thirty plus years of service, combat medals, citations, two marriages to the same man, three kids, and a career that would go down in history, Vice Admiral Barbara ‘Legacy’ Mitchell-Bradshaw would be a name forever known in the world of naval aviation. Just like her father and his father before, the best way to put it all into one word would be distinguished.

It had been some time since she last soared the skies after accepting the promotion of Rear Admiral Lower Half. Like her father, Barbara was tempted to remain a Captain for the sake of flying, but her children were either in or entering their teen years at the time and Barbara knew she needed to accept her time as a pilot was over. The main reason she held anger for Maverick as a teenager was the fact he continued to stay a Captain to stay in the air. The decision made him miss several important milestones in her life, and when Barbara came to him after it was possible she would get the promotion he advised her to take it, noting it had been one of his biggest regrets to not be there for her when she needed him most.

“CeeCee is gonna be fifteen this year, honey,” he said to her with a knowing look, “You know how it was for you at that age. By then you had already started resenting me for the little things that soon added up. Nico is thirteen and little Tommy just turned nine—I know it’s been easy having Rooster always there now that he’s been Upper Half for a year now, but you know how the Navy is.”

It opened Barbara’s eyes a lot, cursing at herself for nearly letting history repeat itself. The next morning she was calling to accept the promotion after telling Rooster, who was in full support and spun her around like the proud husband he was. “Welcome to the star club, babygirl.” Their kids were very pleased, with teenage son Nico already bragging how both his parents were Admirals.

She made a mental note to teach him not to be arrogant when it came to others. Growing up the kid of a naval officer, Barbara had her fair share of friends who tended to be stuck up because their parents were a higher rank than hers. They were even worse to the enlisted kids. She was not about to have her kids be like that.

And to pat herself on the back, she and Rooster did a great job raising their children. CeeCee, their oldest and only girl, was born a year after their wedding. Like her mother she loved to dance and had a talent for ballet. It surprised the couple when she announced she wanted to follow in their footsteps and become a Navy officer. The two had always made it clear early on they would support their children in whatever endeavors they desired when it came to their future. Never did they put pressure on the Navy, aviation, or even college.

“I wanna be a pilot,” she said over dinner during her sophomore year of high school. The forks in both Barbara and Bradley’s hands clink as they hit the plates.

“You do?” They both said with surprise, causing a light blush to appear on their daughter’s cheek.

“Yeah,” she nudged the carrots on her plate, “I always loved flying when you two would take us out in Grandpa’s plane or to the airshows. Guys at my school try to say women aren’t meant to be pilots, but mom and aunt Phoenix are prime examples that’s not true. I wanna prove them wrong in my own way.”

Nico, the ever supportive little brother, says to her, “I think that’s badass,” he ignores the looks of disapproval from his parents, “You might even get a cool callsign like ‘Legacy Junior’ or 'Swan.’ Keep the birds running in the family, you know?” Even Barbara couldn’t hold back the smile at that. Rooster appeared all too pleased at the thought.

“What about you then, Nico?” CeeCee scowls, though part of her actually liked the callsign he thought of. “What would your callsign be? If we’re keeping the birds in the family, like you said.”

“Oh, I’m not gonna be a pilot—no offense mom and dad,” they both laugh and say ‘none taken,’ He takes a bite of his food before continuing. “But if I did it would be something cool like ‘Falcon,’ or ‘Eagle.’ Just so when I land I can be like, ‘the Eagle is landing!’”

The memory of that night was one Barbara would remember for the rest of her life. A happy one, with all her children laughing together as they voiced potential callsign for the newest edition to the Mitchell-Bradshaw clan of aviators. Rooster and Barbara shared a loving gaze, no doubt thinking about how blessed they were. That year they had celebrated sixteen years of marriage and one year of Barabara becoming Rear Admiral Lower Half.

Barbara was in paradise.

Now here she was, seven years later, at her oldest child’s graduation from the Naval Academy who would soon be off to flight school. Her husband of twenty three years (add five if you wanna not count the three year period they were divorced) sat beside her with their sons on either side. Three stars pinned to her collar and the position of air boss when it comes to special missions going through Top Gun.

How’s that for a girl who lived up to the Legacy?

……………….

Tag list ♥️: @multiple-fandoms-girl, @maverick-wingman, @sgt-huntersupremacy, @the-winter-marvel33, @justanothermagicalsara, @calicokel, @lydia-demarek, @alanadetigy, @shrimping-for-all, @chaoticassidy, @nemtodd-barnes1923, @bradleysgirl, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy, @mak-32, @persephonehemingway, @candid-confetti

Thank you all so much for your support and patience. This epilogue is for you.