#VOTE of stars and steel. you know who they are

[kyberblade]

Back To You (Din x Reader) - Part 19

A/N: Well, it’s here. You all voted, and it’s one monolithic chapter. I can’t believe we’re here. 😭 We still have so much coming up for these guys, but this first part is done and it’s been a year and I have EMOTIONS!!!! 😮‍💨🥺 Thank you all for everything. It’s been an honor to go on this journey with all of you, and I can’t wait for all the rest of the stories this little clan has coming up! We just have nostalgia in this one, throwbacks, badassery, lots of feelings and fun…. It’s a good time for all. I’ve had this final scene written since almost day one. I’m so excited it’s finally here. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I did writing it! There will still be an epilogue for this story, too, so we’re not totally done, yet. (Also, once again, there is some lore in this that @writerlyhabits wrote in a fantastic short, and I loved it so much, I asked if I could use it.)

(This takes place right where the other one left off and goes to the end of episode 2x8/16, The Rescue.)

I do not own Star Wars or it’s characters. Sadly. But I carry them in my heart. Does that count for something? My soul says yes.

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, Grogu being the cutest thing you ever did see, and Din is once again a warning in and of himself in this one. Typical show violence. Swearing. Space swearing. Grogu is a menace. Arguing? Mando’a. Show dialogue, so spoilers? (But if you’re here, you know how this works.) Lots of angst. Tears. Brief mention of injury. Reader is having a Tough Time™️ mentally, but it’s discussed and processed. The F-word but it’s in Mando’a so does it really count?

Word count: 21,386 (I said what I said.)

As always, thanks to @grippingbeskar for encouraging me, looking over this for me, and being the one to introduce me to Din fanfiction in the first place, getting me hooked. You are fantastic and I always love our chats.

And for @fordo-kixed-rex, you deserve so much more than a shoutout for reading all 75 million iterations of this massive chapter from start to finish, and helping me in between. You’re a real one, friend. This series would not have gotten this far without you.

And @deceiver-of-gods for helping me with the Mando’a!

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Xxx

You woke to the ship swinging wildly side to side, the sound of blaster fire filling every space of the vacant cargo hold. Din was no longer behind you, just the cold lonely steel of Boba’s ship, but there was something wadded up underneath your head as a makeshift pillow. It was soft, and smelled of your Mandalorian. Lifting your head, blinking blearily against the soft lights of the deck, you looked around, catching the fabric of Din’s cowl as it fell from behind your head and down into your lap.

“What’s going on?”

Fennec helped you to your feet, both of you stumbling slightly to the left as the ship tilted at a precarious angle, her hand holding on to you even after you were up to help both of you maintain your balance. Din’s cowl was still clutched tightly in your other hand.

“Found Doctor Pershing. He’s on an Imperial transport, we’re attempting to enter negotiations for his release.” She smiled wryly. “They aren’t going so well.”

The ship turned sharply to the right, causing you and Fennec to release one another. She gripped the bottom of a nearby seat to avoid flying across the deck, but your hands were full with the cowl, and you went sliding across the deck on your side from the steep angle. 

Cara attempted to grab you as you slid by where she too was gripping a nearby seat, grabbing on to the fabric of the cowl for a brief second before it slipped through her fingers. “It’s just as elusive as the man who wears it,” she grumbled, making you grin despite the situation.

The ship finally started to even out slightly, enough that you weren’t sliding, but your feet still propelled you forward from the dangerous angle. “The old man flies like a-”

Din caught your hand before you could go any further, pulling you into him where he was against the wall, hanging on to a cargo net.

You looked up at him, breathing heavily after stumbling for your life across the deck. “Well, he flies like you.”

Din grunted at the slight, making you grin. “Thanks, shiny.”

He only nodded once, his grip on your upper arm adjusting slightly.

“Oh!” Reaching up, you attached his cowl back around his shoulders. “And thanks for that, too.”

He nodded again. “You always complain about needing your Mandalorian pillow, so I figured it was the next best thing.”

Fennec snorted in amusement at the same time Cara moaned an, “Ew, guys!”

The ship entered a roll, all of you clinging to something and muttering curses. Once it leveled back out, you glared at the hatch that led to the cockpit. “I’ll be right back.”

“What are you doing? Mesh’la?” Din tried to reach after you, but you ignored him, climbing the ladder and stepping into the cockpit once the doors slid open.

“Hey. Flyboy.”

“I’m busy, ad’ika,” Boba said through gritted teeth, his modulator making the words sound even thinner as he pulled the trigger yet again, the shots whizzing past the transport in front of him. 

“You missed.”

If he was a clone, and they were the troopers…. Who were always dismal shots…. You grinned. 

“So is that just something in the clone/trooper genetics? Missing things by a mile?”

“It was a warning shot,” he grumbled, turning his visor your way ever so slightly before turning back to the viewport. “And troopers aren’t clones anymore. If they were, we’d all be in trouble.”

The grin pulled higher up the side of your face. “I see.” Arms crossing over your chest, you took a step closer to him. “Well warn them faster, grandpa, you’re nearly murdering your crew with these maneuvers. You didn’t give us any warning.”

“Have to strap you all down like ade,” he mumbled, chuckling softly as he shook his head, probably picturing it. (“Children.”)

Reaching forward, you flipped a switch on the console, sending a blast from his ion cannons right into the rear of the transport, making it go dead on impact.

Leaning down so your head was beside the bounty hunter’s, you smirked. “That was my warning shot.”

Grumbling something unintelligible under his breath, Boba leaned in and pressed the button for comms. “Lower your shields, disengage all transponders, prepare for boarding.”

The ship rose slowly in front of the transport, the pilot, copilot, and Doctor Pershing all watching it rise through the viewport with a gradual tilt of their heads further and further back until they were out of sight. 

Boba hovered over the hatch, pressing a few buttons on the console as he mumbled, “Easy as….” A loud thud accompanied by a violent jerk caused you to stumble through the cockpit, grabbing the back of his chair for stability.

With a huff, you turned your head to glare at the side of his visor. “You were saying?”

“I never finished the sentence. Maybe I was going to say it was something complicated.”

“Osi'kyr,” you grumbled, pushing off of his chair. “Would be easier to pet a nexu.” (Strong exclamation of dismay.)

“I’ve actually pet a nexu once,” Boba mused, flicking a switch before leaning back in his chair.

“Of course you have.” You didn’t bother turning back to face him as you left the cockpit to rejoin the others. A small smile turned up your features at the sound of his laugh behind you. 

Xxx

Sitting on the deck of Boba’s ship, your mind began to wander. Staying upbeat and engaged was easy…. For a time. Until you really let your thoughts go down the roads they wanted to, with memories of the kid playing on a loop, especially the one of him being taken from practically right out of your hands.

Within just a few steps, from the bottom of the ladder to the cockpit to the seat you were perched on in the middle of the deck, a dark cloud had taken over your mind, and you didn’t feel like fighting it right now.

You hung back while Din and Cara boarded the Imperial transport to get Doctor Pershing. The whole thing took less than two minutes, but from your seat, you could hear the entire exchange. Fennec watched you closely from her seat across the aisle from you. 

“What?” You asked her after a moment of loaded staring.

“Nothing,” she shook her head with a shrug. “You’ve just been quiet the last few days is all.”

“Compared to what? I only met you a few days ago.”

A blaster shot fired, and a body thudded to the floor, causing both you and Fennec to lean slightly to peer through the opening to see what was going on. She leaned forward while you leaned back. But a quick glance at the opening showed both of your friends still standing firmly with their weapons drawn, so you assumed it was one of the Imps turning on the other. 

Cowards.

Both of you sitting back how you had been, you turned your attention back on one another as if nothing had happened. 

Fennec went on as if simply talking about the weather. “True. But before everything with the kid went down, you seemed….”

Brows knit, one arching in question, you bobbed your head at her to continue. “Go on….”

“Better.”

You huffed, shaking your head as you looked at the ground. “I’m fine.”

“Alright.”

Shrugging your shoulders, you looked up at her again, peering up through your lashes. It felt safer than looking straight at her. “I’m on a strange ship with strangers and everything is-”

“Strange?”

Lifting your head to look at her straight on, your face fell flat. “Different.” You glared. “A member of my clan was taken. It’s not the same as missing someone, it’s more like a piece of yourself is gone.”

“I understand,” she offered softly. “I just don’t want you to slip away in the process.”

“Slip away?”

She sighed, looking down at the floor. “Sometimes….” Her gaze pulled back up to meet yours confidently, something softening once your eyes met again. “Sometimes when we let something consume us - grief, loss, a goal - it’s easy to get buried in all the things you let slide along the way.”

You felt the clouds begin to break, a ray of sunshine beginning to shine through. “What…. What have I let slide?”

She looked off to the side, as if the words she needed were hidden somewhere in the cargo hold. “Honestly?” She met your eyes. “Yourself.”

“It was my fault-”

“It happened.” Leaning forward, she left no room for question as she put a hand on your upper arm. “All that matters now is how you fix it.”

Suddenly a blaster shot fired, another body thudded to the ground, and a man started yelping in pain. Turning toward the opening where the ship was docked to the transport, you stood up and took a few steps closer, nearly running into Cara as she stomped past you.

“That was my warning shot,” she mumbled, stuffing her blaster into its holster on her hip.

Looking back at the opening, you saw Din staring after her in concern, his shoulders rising and falling in a heavy sigh as he watched his friends fall a little further apart. 

Rushing into the transport, you put your hands on the shoulders of the man, startling him.

He tried to back away from you, looking up with wide eyes, but you held him in place firmly.

“Shhhh, it’s okay, I’m not going to hurt you. You’re Doctor Pershing, right?”

He nodded, wincing at the motion and cradling his right ear.

“Mind if I take a look?”

Slowly lowering his hand, he gently shook his head, turning slightly to offer you a better angle. “Your angry friend shot my captor- something I’m grateful for, don’t get me wrong- just…. It was a bit close to my ear.”

“It ruptured your eardrum, didn’t it?”

He nodded hesitantly. “Some bacta should help. If we get to it soon.”

You smiled. “I have something better than bacta.”

“Wha-”

Reaching out, you placed your hand over his ear, making him wince and try to pull away from you. Holding him in place with your other hand on his shoulder, you took a deep breath, doing what you had done for Din back on Morak, and mending his injury. “Sorry about my friend. She can get a little hot headed. I’m sure she’ll apologize in a little bit, but for now….” You pulled your hand away, lowering your voice since he could now hear again out of that side, “I’ll just have to do. There. All better.”

His mouth opened and closed a few times, an attempt at words but only a croak coming out in disbelief. Finally he was able to mutter, “How?”

You’d almost expected him to ask why, but as he asked how instead, you understood. He may have studied the workings of the Force, and understood it on a molecular level, but that didn’t mean he truly knew its capabilities. Plus, he’d only ever been exposed to a truly dark and twisted side of things, one that was selfish and manipulative. That side would never reach out and heal just for the sake of it. They’d reach out a hand just to strike you further down. Or make sure you stayed there.

“Friends take care of each other. I’d call us friends, wouldn’t you?” He nodded hesitantly, eyes darting to the Mandalorian hovering behind you before coming back to you. “And you’re going to help us find the kid, aren’t you?” He nodded again, making you smile a bit broader. “That’s it then. We help you, you help us.” 

You got to your feet, standing beside Din, and helping Pershing to his feet. Once he was standing, though, you didn’t let go of his hand, making sure he met your gaze as you held his hand a bit too tight. “But if anything goes wrong…. I can’t make any promises about my friend out there. As you’ve already seen, she’s a bit of a loose canon. Can’t really tell what she’ll do if she gets upset.”

Eyes wide, Pershing nodded in understanding, eyes flitting between you and Din rapidly, then darted where Cara had disappeared before landing back on you. “Understood.”

Xxx

Fennec’s talk had caused the clouds to break, but your mind was still overcast and dreary; thoughts dark and dismal pulling you into another spiral you were fighting hard to stay on the edge of, and not get sucked down under. So far you’d kept your head above water, but with every kick to tread and stay up, you were getting more and more tired.

Staring out one of the side viewports of Boba’s ship, you watched the stars crawl lazily by, as your arms crossed over your chest held you tight. The soft clink of beskar clad steps came up behind you, the looming hover of the cool metal just out of reach as he stood a mere breath away brought a soothing wash over your skin.

“You’re not going to say anything?” You mumbled after a long moment of silence.

“Mmm-mmm,” he hummed, the gentle shake of his head causing the fabric of his cowl to brush the back of your head. 

“Thank you.” A deep breath. “Why not?”

“Do you want me to?”

You shrugged. “Not particularly.” You smirked at his huff of laughter. “Everyone else has, though. Including you. Just figured we’d come full circle and it was your turn again.”

He shrugged this time, the motion jostling him a bit closer, just enough that he was barely touching you. “You’re going to feel what you feel. I can’t change that by telling you over and over that I think it's wrong.”

“But you do?”

He sighed. “Mesh’la….” He closed the last breath of distance between you, pressing his chest along your spine. “I’ve said my piece. You know how I feel, what I think. Me beating you over the head with it like Peli adjusting something on the Crest isn’t gonna change anything.” His modulator lowered down beside your ear. “All I can do is stay here and keep fighting alongside you, hopefully beating whatever is winning in that head of yours…. Because it’s wrong. And I hate what it’s doing to you.”

You smiled to yourself. “It’s just me up here.”

“That’s not the full you. That’s the broken you. I know because….” He sighed. “Because I’m a little bit broken, too.”

The silence sat comfortably between you for a long moment. When you finally spoke again, your voice was soft, but felt harsh in the new quiet you’d found.

“How are you not falling apart?”

“Who says I’m not?” He didn’t miss a beat.

You let out a snort, a sardonic chuckle chasing after it as you shook your head gently. “That’s not fair, you have armor to hold you together.”

“It’s not the armor.” His voice was quiet, but he spoke with a conviction that made your breath catch in your chest.

Your conversation from back on Coruscant came back to you.

“I’m sorry I scared you, years ago.”

“What do you-”

“You’re right. You do wear armor. And I can only imagine how it felt to have something break past those defenses.” 

It was nearly silent as you studied his visor, your reflection staring back at you in the low light. The only sounds were Grogu’s snoring, the muted drone of traffic several levels up, the quiet lull of street noises from below, and both of your quiet breaths.

“I hope you know you don’t have to keep wearing it for me.” Your eyes flitted between his, despite the visor. Somehow you knew. “If you want to, that’s okay. I understand. That’s part of who you are. But….” You took a surprisingly shaky breath, and his hand came to rest on your hip, his thumb tracing soothing patterns while he waited for you to finish. You had to screw your eyes shut to focus on the last few words. “But I just wanted you to know. I’d be your armor if you needed- wanted me to.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to open your eyes, the darkness so much easier to hide in. How ironic, since you had just offered him a way out of something similar.

The next thing you knew, the cool touch of beskar against your forehead for the third time tonight made you take in a shuddering breath.

“I’d like that,” you heard him rumble lowly, making you smile. 

A long moment passed with just the two of you and shared space before you finally opened your eyes. “What’s going on in there, Tin Can?”

Din huffed out a soft laugh as he gave your hip a gentle squeeze. “I can’t decide which is prettier armor. You or beskar.”

Your arched brows of curiosity fell flat along with your tone. “Really?”

“You asked.” You could hear the smile in his voice.

“Okay. Moment’s over.” You pushed away from him, your hands already resting on his chest pressing him onto his back in the process.

“Mesh’la, come on. I was only teasing,” Din protested over a laugh, reaching a hand after you as you got under the covers.

You looked up at him, unimpressed. “If you say, ‘we both know it’s the beskar’, joke or not, so help me, a bad bed roll will be the least of your back pain worries.”

His hand recoiled slightly as if you had burned him. “Okay, that’s fair.”

You smirked. “I thought so.”

Turning, arms still cradling your upper half, you tilted your head back to look at him straight on. Staring into his visor, your reflection the only thing looking back at you, it took everything you had to fight the sinking feeling in your gut. “Din, I don’t know if I can do this anymore.”

He crowded further into your space, making your head tilt back even more. “Do what?”

“Keep going. I know I have to, and I will for the kid, for you, but��. I feel like I’m about to break.”

“Then break.” His arms slowly came around your waist.

“What?” Brows knit in confusion, you blinked up at his visor.

“Go ahead and fall. I’ll catch you.”

“Din-”

“Remember on Tatooine when you decided to use the Force to shoot the packets?” You nodded. “It zapped you so fast you couldn’t hardly stand up, but I stood right there behind you, and kept you up, until it was too much. Then-”

“You let me fall.” Smiling softly, you leaned your face into his cowl taking a much needed deep breath, what felt like the first in a while. He smelled like plasma, and smoke, faintly of Morak, something simply him, and….. home. 

Suddenly the air didn’t feel so oppressive, gravity wasn’t pushing you down so hard. Unwinding your arms from around yourself, they found their way around Din, holding him tight. They found their way home, knowing exactly where to go.

“Mmm-hmm,” he hummed into your hair, his grip around you cinching tighter. “I let you fall back into me, then I made sure you were safe until you were ready to try again.”

“How did I end up with someone like you in my life?” You mumbled the words lazily into his cowl, the corners of your mouth curving further up.

The smile on his face was evident in his tone. “You’re a really great bartender.”

Xxx

Din was able to track Bo-Katan and Koska down on some backwater planet you didn’t even know the name of. At this point it didn’t really matter, they were all bleeding together. You just wanted to get a team together and get the kid. And if that included killing or maiming a Moff in the process…. Well that was just fine with you. Anyone who would steal and torture a child deserved the absolute worst punishment. Especially if that child was Grogu. Was yours.

Walking into the local cantina, you hovered behind Din and Boba, all three of you standing tall as the patrons started to notice you one by one. Conversations went silent, laughter dying out as they realized who exactly had darkened their doorway. They began to flee the building, some of them being sly about it, others just blatantly running past, but no one wanted to linger when two more bodies in beskar walked through the door.

One or two pointed to the saber on your hip, and a sense of pride swelled in your chest. Let them see. You may not have a suit of beskar, but a saber carried just as much infamy. Hopefully it kept more of the Gideon’s of the galaxy away from you and yours.

The cantina slowly emptied until it was just Bo-Katan and Koska eating at a table on the far end and your little party of three. A handful of patrons had waited until the bounty hunters had walked all the way through the establishment before they bolted, jostling you where you stood, still by the door. 

Leaning against the frame, arms across your chest, you sighed as a Rodian inched past you cautiously, and you swore a wary smile was tugging up one side of his face but you knew that was impossible.

“I need your help.” Din’s voice was gruff.

Bo-Katan sighed. “Not all Mandalorians are bounty hunters.” She wasn’t wearing her helmet, and neither was Koska, so nothing was there to hide the annoyance on her face as she turned toward your little party of three. Her eyes flicked up and down Boba before landing back on Din’s visor. “Some of us serve a higher purpose.”

“They took the child,” Din explained in a heavy tone, the hesitance in his words slowing them down to something almost broken. Reluctant.

That got her attention. “Who?” To her credit, her features melted into genuine concern, the wheels in her head already turning to plot a rescue.

Din answered without a moment's hesitation, his voice once again the low, confident growl you were used to. “Moff Gideon.”

You made your way further into the cantina, leaning on your right shoulder against the pillar beside Din, nodding once to Bo-Katan when she met your eyes.

She returned the gesture before her gaze fell down to the knife on your belt and a fond smile briefly turned up her features before it melted away just as fast. “You’ll never find him.” She turned back toward her plate of food, Koska doing the same beside her. 

Boba turned to look at you, his head tilting to the side in explanation instead of speaking, then lifted his visor toward Din. “We don’t need these two. Let’s get outta here.”

Bo-Katan’s attention immediately snapped toward the green set of beskar, her body angling toward him as she spoke. “You are not a Mandalorian.”

“Never said I was.” Boba only turned his head to peer at her across his shoulder. The movement was almost lazy, and it made you want to snicker. His voice was somewhat bored, and you leaned your head back into the pillar, settling in for the show.

“I didn’t know sidekicks were allowed to talk,” Koska finally piped up, directing her sarcastic comment toward Boba.

This made you push off the pillar, your arms coming to rest on your hips near your belt laden with weapons. Keeping your eyes on the other Mandalorian, you stayed back when Boba subtly held his arm out to stop you. This was his fight. 

Sidling up to their table, he chuckled dryly. “Well if that isn’t the Quacta calling the Stifling slimy.” He pulled up short when Koska got to her feet and stood right in his face. “Easy there, little one.”

Stepping closer the minuscule amount left between them, her nose practically brushing against his visor, she issued further threats as her head bobbed side to side for emphasis. “You’ll be talking through the window of a bacta tank.”

Your hand slowly lowered to your blaster hanging in the holster on your belt.

Bo-Katan held out her hand toward the two Mandalorians, her tone exasperated. “All right, easy. Save it for the Imps.”

Lowering your hand off of your blaster, you straightened your spine as Koska sat back down in her seat, and let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

Din thankfully moved the subject along. “We have his coordinates.”

The look of surprise on Bo-Katan’s face was priceless. “You can bring me to Moff Gideon?”

“The Moff has a light cruiser. It could be helpful in your effort to regain Mandalore.”

“You gotta be kidding me. Mandalore?” Boba turned to Din. Taking the few steps back toward the shiny Mandalorian, his voice had taken on disbelief. “The Empire turned that planet to glass.”

Bo-Katan was seething. “You are a disgrace to your armor.”

At that point you tuned out. Anything else was just going to upset you. Boba was your friend, and Bo-Katan was needed to get to Gideon. You’d pick a fight if you kept listening to her hurling insults about him being a clone, but you took a page out of Boba’s book, and let it roll off your back. 

All sound faded out for a moment, the silence so loud it was distracting. You stared blankly at the wall behind everyone.

Din settled into the pillar beside you, leaning against his left shoulder, and drawing you out of your trance. Smiling softly at the tilt of his head and heavy sigh that followed, you arched a brow at him in question. 

His shoulders rose and fell with another sigh, the words coming out on the exasperated breath. “Might as well get comfy.”

Your brow tilted further up into your hairline, the corner of your mouth trying to match it. “Why? What’s happening?”

Koska was thrown into a nearby table by Boba, the stone shattering under the impact, sending dust and rubble skittering across the floor.

“Mandalorian argument,” Din grunted.

“Doesn’t an argument usually involve words?” You asked, settling your spine against the pillar, watching as Koska and Boba exchanged blows.

Leaning his head to his left toward you, you tilted yours to the right to meet him in the middle. “This is a special dialect of Mando’a,” Din teased.

Both of you split apart almost lazily as Koska’s feet flew into the pillar, ran across its surface while her jet pack ignited and sent her head over heels in a flip, Boba’s head locked in her grip the whole way.

You came back together as if nothing had happened, resuming your previous positions as the green beskar landed on the ground with a thud, popping up just as fast and two opposing flamethrowers ignited, meeting in the middle in a shower of flames.  

“Enough! Both of you!” Bo-Katan barked in annoyance.

When the fires didn’t go out, you rolled your eyes, pushing off the pillar and flipping over the wall of heat, igniting your saber and making it zing off your vambrace.

Their flames sputtered to a halt as sparks flew from your armor. Bo-Katan bowed her head to you once in thanks, her eyes wide. You returned it, a tight smile on your face as you disengaged the blade. 

Bo-Katan continued pointedly, eyes flicking between the two Mandalorians. “If we had shown half that spine to the Empire we would’ve never lost our planet.” She turned to Din. “We will help you. In exchange, we will keep that ship to retake Mandalore. If you should manage to finish your quest, I would have you reconsider joining our efforts. Mandalorians have been in exile from our home world for far too long.”

“Fair enough.” You could tell Din was just saying what she wanted to hear. He had no intentions of joining her cause. It made you smile softly. Ever the diplomat…. Give or take some aggressive negotiations.

“One more thing. Gideon has a weapon that once belonged to me. It is an ancient weapon that can cut through anything.” Her eyes fell to the hilt of your saber now hung back on your belt as you made your way back to Din’s side. 

“Almost anything.” Koska looked at you pointedly before turning her gaze to Bo-Katan.

“It cannot cut through pure beskar.” Bo-Katan held Koska’s stare, then her eyes fell to your vambraces before they returned to Din. “But then your riduur already gave us an example of that.” Before you could say anything she continued. “I will kill the Moff and retake what is rightfully mine. With the Darksaber restored to me, Mandalore will finally be within reach.” (“Partner.”)

Your head began to swim again. So much rested on one man. Kriffing Moff Gideon. The restoration of Mandalore, the reunion of a clan, the mending of your heart…. It was all becoming a bit overwhelming. All it took was one little thing going wrong, and…. Just one thing….

Din peered down at her, his voice stable and calm. “Help me rescue the child and you can have whatever you want. He is my only priority.”

That shouldn’t hurt like it did. You knew he meant it only in the sense of her eagerness to fight Moff Gideon, but you couldn’t help but take it personally. It burrowed down under your skin and stung more than a prick from your training remote.

What did you expect?

It was always the kid.

You knew that.

You were always second.

Suck it up and move on. 

The voices in your head made you angry, and what’s worse, sounded a lot like you. There was no kyber to blame, no unseen force pulling at strings…. It was just your messed up brain.

You had to get out of there. Din would understand. He probably saw you as a liability already anyway. 

A shuddering breath filled your lungs as you took a step backwards towards the door. That last thought made you sad.

If there was one thing you never wanted, it was to be a burden for him. But looking back, that’s all you’d ever been. He’d had to teach you, feed you, house you…. There’s not a moment where he wasn’t devoting his time to keeping an eye on you. He gave the kid more freedom than you.

Turning, you strode out of the cantina, ignoring Din’s calls at your back.

“Mesh’la!”

Finally a gloved hand wrapped around your elbow, pulling you to a stop, but not before you ripped your arm out of his hold.

Rounding on him, you turned to stare at his visor with a flat expression and took a step backward. “What?”

He slowed to a stop about a foot away from you. “I should be asking you the same thing!”

“So much is riding on this one man. Everything…. If just one thing goes wrong…. And I don’t…. I don’t know what I would do if….” Arms crossed over your chest, you held his gaze. “I just finally put it together, Din. He’s your only priority, you said it yourself. I’m nothing but a burden here. I can’t teach the kid, you have to teach me everything, from flying the ship to fixing it to defending myself…. You never let me out of your sight! It’s like…. I finally got it. I’m a liability, so I’ll just go.”

Turning, you didn’t even make it a step before you froze again at the sound of his voice.

“Mesh’la….” When you wouldn’t turn around, he continued. “I don’t let you out of my sight because I can’t.” You scoffed. “I don’t want to. You’re the first thing I want to see each morning and the last thing before I fall asleep.” His voice got closer. “In fact, that’s one of the reasons I don’t want to sleep, because I don’t want to miss a second.” He drew closer still. “Yeah, I’d call you a liability, but for the first time, I’m willing to have a target on my back if that means I get you in my life. You’re a liability because if you left, I don’t know what I would do.”

You huffed. “What, you can’t find someone else to watch the kid?”

“I can’t find someone else to make me laugh.” Din didn’t miss a beat. He continued down his list as if it was ready made on the tip of his tongue. “To put all the blasters in the weapons locker backwards because they know it annoys me. I can’t find someone else who’s had me in a chokehold from the moment I saw them. I don’t like people, you know that. But I really, really-”

“Tolerate me?”

You didn’t have to turn around to know his weight had shifted to one leg, his head tilted to the side in disbelief. “Yeah. That’s it. I tolerate you. I tolerate you bad.” 

You couldn’t help the chuckle as you rolled your eyes.

His voice was closer when he spoke again, the gravel of the planet crunching underfoot as he drifted slowly nearer to you. “I tolerate you a lot. All the time. You walk in the cockpit and it’s just like the first time I saw you all over again. You make me act like an idiot.”

You huffed out a laugh. “Well, at least we can agree on that.”

“My brain stops. I forget what I’m doing.” His chest was pressed along your spine now, his hands on your upper arms, modulator by your ear as he went on. “It’s dangerous. So yeah, you’re a liability.” His grip on your arms tightened. “Good thing I’m in indestructible armor.”

The snort of laughter fell out before you could stop it, more coming out to meet it as soft chuckles buzzed out of his chest and along your skin as he closed his arms around your upper body, pulling you tightly to him. 

“Gar cuyi ner aliit. Ni kar'tayli darasuum gar. Gar cuyi ner mir'sheb bal gar utreekov kar'tayli darasuum gar, cyar’ika.” His voice was low and quiet, but happy. (“You are my family. I love you. You are my smartass, and your idiot loves you, darling.”)

Lifting your hands up to rest on his still around you, you couldn’t fight the grin crawling up your face. “Bal gar mir'sheb kar'tayli darasuum gar.” (“And your smartass loves you.”)

His helmet pressed into the crook of your neck, the buzz of his modulator tickling your skin. “I’m sorry I made you feel that way. I should have phrased what I said to Bo differently.” He groaned softly. “Ni cuyi gar utreekov, partayli?” (“I am your idiot, remember?”)

You turned in his hold, pressing your forehead to his. “Ni kar'tayli. Ni kar'tayli gar. Gar cuyi ner kar'ta, partayli?” You sighed, closing your eyes. “I’m sorry I overreacted. I’m just so on edge since everything with the kid, and I…. Thank you for understanding. And thank you for fighting for me, Tin Can. Even though it’s not much of a risk with that indestructible armor.” Your eyes flew open, looking at the T of his visor through your lashes and cocking one eyebrow skeptically. (“I know. I know you. You are my heart, remember?”)

“Shi par gar,” he whispered, his voice tight with an obvious smile. (“Only for you.”)

Xxx

Once everyone boarded Boba’s ship, a plan started to form. Before the group huddled around the holotable, you noticed Koska quietly complimenting some of the weapons stowed in a cluttered corner of the deck. You smiled softly as she and Boba fell into a brief amicable conversation about how he acquired the items, their scuffle back in the cantina long forgotten.

With a roll of your eyes you continued toward the rest of the party. Mandalorians.

Din stood at the back of the group as usual, hands tightly gripping his belt as he watched the others set up the display. The leather of his gloves creaked in protest with every flex of his hands against the thick strip of material around his waist.

Leaning into his side, you pretended to adjust his bandolier, speaking softly so only he could hear. “You okay?”

His visor turned down toward you in question, so you silently slid your hand down toward the hand closest to you, prying it from his hip and slipping your fingers through his with a gentle squeeze.

He let out a sigh, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Yeah. Sorry. Just…. We’re almost there.”

You turned your head so you were facing the wall behind you, keeping the conversation completely private. “Din Djarin nervous?” Your eyes flicked up to meet the T of his visor, along with a smirk. “Well that’s a first.”

“And that’s a lie,” Din grumbled. “You do all kinds of things that make me nervous.”

“Aw,” blinking your eyes an absurd number of times, you rested your free hand on his chest. “That’s sweet.”

“It wasn’t a compliment,” he groused. “I meant things like cooking and fighting. Just normal, everyday things.”

Patting his chest plate a few times, a tight smile pulled up your features. “I know.” With one last squeeze of his hand, you leaned in and whispered, “We’ll talk about it later.”

Din swallowed roughly. “See? Things like that.”

A holo of a massive ship spun in front of Bo-Katan’s face, painting her features in a soft blue glow. “This is Moff Gideon’s Imperial light cruiser. In the old days it would carry a crew of several hundred. Now it operates with a tiny fraction of that.” She smiled smugly as she watched the hologram spin.

“Your assessment is misleading.” All eyes turned to the soft voice of Doctor Pershing where he sat perched in a seat right in front of you. He may be soft spoken, but he wasn’t afraid to speak up, and you admired that.

Placing your free hand on his shoulder, you smiled down at him reassuringly when he glanced up your way, nodding once to encourage him to go on. 

“Oh, great. An objective opinion.”

Cutting your eyes Cara’s way, you made sure to shoot her a look through narrowed eyes and furrowed brows. She only shrugged in return, sending your eyes rolling.

“This isn’t subterfuge. I assure you.”

“Let him speak.” Bo-Katan’s interest surprised you, but the more you thought about it, it really didn’t. If the information he had was true, it affected every aspect of her plan.

Pershing let out a sigh. Relief washed over his face, his shoulders rounding forward as he let out the breath. “There’s a garrison of dark troopers on board. They’re the ones who abducted the child.”

That seemed to get Din’s attention. “How many troopers do they have armed in those suits?”

Now that he was back under the scrutiny of a beskar gaze, Pershing sat up a little straighter, hesitating slightly, his eyes fixed on the floor. You didn’t blame him. Those visors were intimidating. “These are third-generation design. They are no longer suits. The human inside was the final weakness to be solved. They’re droids.”

“Where are they bivouacked?” Fennec’s voice was uncharacteristically soft, making you tilt your head at her curiously. 

Pershing got to his feet, shooting you a glance, his face pulled into a tight expression before he focused solely on the holo, pressing a short series of buttons. “They’re held in cold storage in this cargo bay. They draw too much power to be kept at ready.”

“How long to power up?”

“A few minutes, perhaps.” Pershing’s tone never flustered. You half expected him to crack after a few minutes, but he truly was just a soft, kind, well intentioned man stuck in the middle of a horrible situation. 

He didn’t even crack when Din asked him another question. 

“Where is the child being held?”

He just pushed another button, the holo filtering through layouts until it settled on the one he wanted, and he began to explain. “This is the brig. He’s being held here under armed guard.”

Pershing turned back to look at you once again, and you nodded, offering him a smile which he was quick to return before settling back into his seat.

Bo-Katan wasted no time. “Very well. We split into two parties.”

“We go alone,” Din was quick to interject, his hand gently squeezing yours.

“Fine,” she said after a moment, shifting her weight, then launching into the rest of the plan. 

You didn’t pay any attention. You probably should have but you couldn’t.

Turning your head toward the wall once again, you stood on your tiptoes to get closer to Din’s ear. He tilted his head slightly to meet you halfway. You opened your mouth to say something snarky, a joke of some sort, but your breath caught in your throat, making you swallow instead. 

Din turned his head to look at you, and it was all you could do to hold the gaze of his visor.

Letting out a quiet huff of air, you whispered a “Thank you,” before your voice stopped working altogether, the emotions lodged in your throat a formidable foe.

The cold touch of his beskar came to rest on your forehead for only a moment before he was turning back to continue listening to the plan. I guess it’s good one of us was, you thought with a snort.

His voice pulled you back into the conversation. “And us?”

Bo-Katan turned to face him, in full planning mode. “We’ll be misdirection. Once we draw a crowd, you slip through the shadows, get the kid.”

“Those dark troopers? They’re gonna be a real skank in the scud pie.”

“Oh, Cara. Ever the optimist,” you sighed, walking over to a seat next to Pershing and plopping down beside him.

“It’s not my fault the Imps are using super droids now!”

“Didn’t say it was….” You massaged the bridge of your nose, eyes screwed shut.

“So what do you suggest? We just wave you at them and they go flyin’?”

Your hand fell to your lap with a slap. “That’s not how the Force works, and you know it.” A smirk started up your face. “But I could throw you at them, knock a few over….”

Cara tilted her head at you, features pulled tight in annoyance.

“Can you two do this later?” Fennec sighed.

“Oh, so it’s okay for two Mandalorians to destroy the inside of a building on a whim, but I can’t insult my friend with a verbal jab when I want?”

“Basically…. Yeah.”

Both you and Cara gave Fennec the look.

“Their bay is on the way to the brig.” Bo-Katan changed the subject pointedly, her gaze flicking between the three of you before finally landing on Pershing. “Can they make it there before they deploy?”

He seemed to mull it over for a moment. “It’s possible.”

“Here.” Fennec pulled something off of the side of Pershing’s uniform and offered it to Din. “Take his code cylinder and seal off their holding bay. Anyone else, we can handle.”

You tilted your head back to look up at Din where he stood behind you, a mischievous smirk crawling up your features. “They ask for a face to scan this time, let me handle it…. Brown eyes.”

He shook his head at you before turning back to the group. “We’ll meet at the bridge.”

Xxx

The ship bumped gently through hyperspace, blue and silver streaks casting everyone in dancing shadows. It was unusually silent in the cockpit of the stolen Imperial shuttle, everyone’s mind on their tasks ahead. 

When Bo-Katan finally spoke, though her tone was quiet, the sound of a voice made you jump. Din snorted in amusement where he stood beside you, the laughter only growing when you reached out to shove his shoulder in annoyance.

“I can’t believe you,” you mumbled. “Don’t laugh at me.”

“Don’t be funny, then,” he countered dryly, turning his visor down toward you.

Glaring up at him, you couldn’t help the quick twitch upward of your lips, opting instead to try and hide it with a roll of your eyes as you focused back on what Bo-Katan was saying.

“Moff Gideon is mine. Got it?”

“Not if he’s mine first,” you mumbled.

Cara stopped cleaning her rifle, and that was how you knew she meant business. “He’s ex-ISB. He’s got a lot of information.” She set the rifle in her lap. Your eyes went wide. She was serious. “I need him alive.”

Bo-Katan sighed, shifting her weight in her seat as she pressed a few buttons on the controls. “I don’t care what happens to him as long as he surrenders to me.”

“Prepare to exit jump space.” Boba’s voice over the comms made you smile. He was on his ship with doctor Pershing. 

“We could freeze him,” Boba offered when the question of what to do with Pershing came up.

You leaned in close to him, ignoring his skeptical expression from his seat opposite your own. “Your carbonite chamber is broken, remember?” Tilting your head, you narrowed your eyes. “Or are you just getting that old, old man?”

Boba turned to you with wide eyes. “He doesn’t know that,” he hissed, jerking his head subtly toward Pershing. 

The man was sitting just a few feet away, trying to give the impression of not listening in to a conversation about his fate.

“For what it’s worth,” he finally chimed in, holding up one finger and swallowing roughly before going on. “I-I d-d-don’t think c-carbonite is n-necessary.”

Boba sighed as Pershing turned to look at the two of you. After a long pause, Boba gestured with one hand for the man to go on. “And why is that?”

“Um.”

“Very compelling.” Boba looked at you pointedly.

The snort of laughter that escaped you in a huff caught you off guard, but the snickering that followed it didn’t. Leaning forward in your chair, you put your hand on Boba’s shoulder, ignoring the way he arched a brow and looked at it like it was a broken hyperdrive. “Come on, friend. It won’t be a problem. Because like you and I, he is also a friend. And friends help each other, don’t they?” Boba slowly lifted his head to hold your gaze once again, simply staring at you, his brows flat and unamused. You gave his shoulder a little shake, and your voice a slight edge. “Don’t they.”

He sighed. 

You smiled, releasing your vice-like grip on his pauldron back to something more forgiving. “They at least don’t freeze each other in carbonite.”

Boba hummed in thought, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed over his chest. “You’ve never met some of my friends.”

As your hand fell into your lap, you stared at him, smile stuck on your face in disbelief. You blinked once, twice. “What?”

“Copy that.” Bo-Katan smiled softly. “Get the hell out of there as soon as they clear us to dock. And your shots have to look convincing.”

Boba huffed out a laugh. “Power up those shields, princess. I’ll put on a good show.”

“Watch out for those deck cannons.” 

Looking at Bo-Katan with wide eyes, your eyebrows narrowed in confusion before you looked up into Din’s visor, one brow rising into your hairline. “Well. That bridge was mended fast,” you muttered under your breath. 

Din simply shrugged one shoulder in response, his head shaking slightly as if to say, “Don’t look at me, I’m just as confused as you are.” 

Probably more, you thought with a grin as you turned back toward the viewport.

Boba muttered something under his breath. Then his voice softened, an undercurrent of something almost concerned painting his tone. “Don’t worry about me. Just be careful in there.”

“You be careful out here, old man.” Your words whispered for only yourself to hear, a tight smile pulled up your face when Fennec snorted out a soft laugh to your left. Her eyes met yours, a gentle shake of her head her only response before she focused back out the viewport. 

Silence settled once again throughout the cabin, this one a bit more tense than the first. It was time. On the other side of this jump lay uncertainty and conflict…. But it also held your heart. You were one stop away from healing. And for some reason that made you grip the handle by your head tighter. 

Koska’s soft countdown pulled you back into the moment at hand. “Exiting hyperspace in three, two, one…”

The ship lurched, sending you stumbling forward slightly as the streams of hyperspace slid into streaks of silver stars. Gideon’s light cruiser loomed through the viewport, filling the space from end to end and growing as the ship approached it rapidly.

Boba shot at the shuttle in bursts, both ships weaving back and forth as the bolts narrowly missed the hull.

You could almost hear Boba’s voice in your head. “That was my warning shot.”

Bo-Katan called out a fake mayday, asking for help from the cruiser, but everyone exchanged a nervous look when a response came back to clear the way for TIE support.

As she tried to call the bluff, heading straight for the landing bay as planned while yelling something else into the comms, you shifted your weight to avoid falling as she took a particularly aggressive turn to the right. The quick upward motion of the ship that followed knocked the wind out of you with a huff.

“I hope she fights better than she flys,” you leaned toward Din, grumbling about Bo-Katan and groaning as she swerved again, sending you stumbling into his chest.

His arms wrapped around your waist, one of them reaching up to grab onto the handle for stabilization as he peered down at you with a slight tilt of his head. “This feels familiar.”

A snort of laughter had you tucking your face into his cowl with another groan. “Yeah, it’s almost like we need to make better friends, or at least some who fly with some sense of survival.”

“We haven’t died yet.”

“Yet is the key word there.”

Streaks of green from TIE fighter blasts shot past the viewport, illuminating the cabin on their way past.

Closing your eyes, you focused on the nearest enemy ship, reaching out through the Force in an attempt to send it spiraling through space when a hand on your shoulder stopped you short. Blinking your eyes open, you turned down toward the grip to find a gloved hand holding you tight.

“Uh-uh,” Din’s voice was low, similar to the way he admonished the child. “Don’t even think about it.”

“I was just….”

“You were just nothing. Nope. I don’t wanna hear it, mesh’la.”

Arms crossed over your chest as you faced forward, you cut your eyes to the side to glare at him. “You’re no fun.”

He nodded once in agreement, not even bothering to look your way. “I’m the absolute worst.”

Before you could respond, the ship lurched again, the mechanical whirr of the wings folding in for landing vibrating the floor under your feet. 

“Hang on!” Fennec yelled, holding on to the bottom of her seat as if bracing for impact.

A quick glance through the viewport showed sparks beginning to fly as the transport touched down inside the cruiser with a massive jolt.

Din held you close with one arm, the handle overhead with the other. You gripped his cowl with both hands as if your life depended on it.

Reaching out with the Force one more time, you searched for the other half of this elaborate plot to get onboard the cruiser, feeling him just on the edge of your awareness before he blipped out altogether. “Boba’s clear,” you breathed on a sigh.

The ship came to a shuddering halt, the screech of metal on metal filling the air along with a thick smoke that obscured most everything.

“Leave some for us,” you mumbled to Bo-Katan as she passed by you toward the lowering ramp, blasters drawn and ready.

You couldn’t see her face because of her helmet, but you could tell from her tone that she was smirking. “I’m not making any promises.”

The first wave waited for as many of the enemy to surround the downed transport before they stormed the hangar, the bay a storm of blaster bolts raining down and jet packs sounding off. 

The sounds of troopers screaming and issuing hollow threats grew further and further away, until they reached the other end of the hangar, finally coming to an abrupt end with a single shot. It was over almost faster than it had begun, silence filling the hangar after a matter of moments.

Both you and Din hung back in the cockpit, watching the whole thing on a display until the party disappeared through a door on the other side of the hangar.

“We’re clear,” Bo-Katan’s voice filled the transport from the comm on your hip. “Give us two minutes then go.”

Din pushed a button on the side of his helmet to reply. “Copy that.” He began to follow you toward the ramp. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Bo-Katan snorted. “This is the Way.”

Xxx

Din POV

Din chuckled as he came to a stop a few feet behind you, simply watching in silence. The thick smoke almost concealed you even just the short distance in front of him, but it was just thin enough that it swirled around you in some sort of eerie embrace that kept you still in his sights. 

If he was being honest, that’s how things had felt lately since the kid had gone - hazy and unclear. But there was always you somewhere in the middle of all the muddle to grab his hand and pull him through.

If he was being brutally honest…. That was how things had always been with you. Not just lately. Not just sometimes. From the time he met you, everything else seemed to slip into a fog and if it wasn’t for your guiding hand, he’d truly be lost.

It wasn’t that he quit finding joy in other things in life.

But those things meant nothing now if he couldn’t share them with you. Somehow. If he couldn’t find a way to bring them, or himself, back to you.

Din smiled and sighed quietly to himself, walking the last few steps silently.

There was time for all of this later, right now…. He had to get the kid.

You both had to get the kid.

This clan of three had been a clan of two for too long.

Xxx

Normal POV

Standing at the top of the ramp, arms crossed, a smirk crawled up your face.

“What are you doing?” Din’s voice behind you didn’t startle you for once, making the turn of your lips grow.

Trilling the fingers of your right hand, you watched the smoke tendrils near the bottom of the ramp curl and unfurl as you manipulated them slowly; the smile on your face going nowhere anytime soon.

“Having fun.” Tilting your head back to look at him with a broad grin, your fingers still moving in slow swirls, you chuckled softly at his amused sigh and gentle shake of his head. “What? Is there something else I’m meant to be doing?”

“Scoping out the hang-”

“It’s clear.” The smirk returned as you straightened your head to scan the docking bay. “Not a single life form left after our first wave went through. Well, aside from one.”

“Where?” Din drew his blaster, head instantly on a swivel as he surveyed the hangar.

“Right…. Here.” You sent the smoke swirling around him, making him swat at it, batting it away with an annoyed groan as you laughed. “Then again, could be a false reading. Been told bounty hunters are heartless.”

Din grunted, holstering his blaster as he closed the distance between you. “Oh, I’ve gotta heart. Want me to prove it?”

You laughed as your back hit the frame of the opening at the top of the ramp, Din crowding into your space. “I know you do, I know you do. I was only teasing. Kriff, you’re so easy to mess with sometimes.” 

Hands on his chest, you tried to push him off. Grunting in frustration when he didn’t move, you arched a brow and peered up into his visor, a soft laugh tumbling out despite yourself. “Hey. Shiny. Let me go. We have work to do. Little green kid. This big?” You held up your hands between you for reference. “Eats everything in sight? Cute as can be and stubborn as a tooka under threat of a bath?” 

Din just kept staring down at you, his head tilted slightly to the right. You pushed on his chest again with another grin. “Remember him? Hey!”

“There she is.”

You huffed out a breath in confusion as you stared up into his visor. “What?” 

“You’re laughing again. Smiling. You should do that more often.”

Staring over his shoulder absently, you realized you felt content for the first time in a while. “Yeah, I guess I am.” Meeting the T of his visor, you felt a smile climb your face like it was the most natural thing. “I guess it’s because the kid is so much closer for the first time since he was taken. I can feel him, Din. It’s like a part of me that was missing is whole again.”

“You can sense him?” He sounded breathless.

You nodded.

“Is he alright?” He was almost hesitant, but hopeful nonetheless.

Reaching out to wrap yourself around the familiar aura, you felt your soul begin to mend its broken parts. A soft laugh tumbled out as you felt a streak of mischief you knew all too well, followed by hunger, then love.

“He’s going to be okay.”

Xxx

Moving around the cruiser was easy, the team that went ahead of you drawing most of the attention of the crew that remained.

You and Din slinked through the hallways like shadows, evading the few troopers you came across without issue. 

An abandoned blaster in one lone hallway caught your attention; without thinking, you went to step out into the corridor to get it, stopping short when the neckline of your shirt cinched tight around your neck. Sputtering, you were jerked back into a beskar wall by a lone, gloved finger in the back of your collar.

“What the hell, Din?!” You hissed as you reached up to tear your top out of his tight grip.

His other hand came up to cover your mouth as two troopers walked by at the end of the hall. The hand in your shirt slipped down around your waist to pull you both further back into the shadows.

“You could have just said something,” you mumbled against his palm, rolling your eyes at his world weary sigh. With a flick of your wrist, you summoned the blaster to you from its spot on a lone crate across the corridor. Turning it over in your hands as you examined it, you hummed softly in thought. “Can you let me go now please?” His hand was still over your mouth so the words were completely jumbled.

“Will you stop trying to cross the street like a drunken baby wookie?”

You sighed into his hand, eyes staring up at the ceiling. “It’s a hallway, not a street, Din.”

“You’re not helping your case, mesh’la.”

You flipped the blaster to stun. “Does that help my case?”

Din heaved another sigh, lowering his hand and nudging you forward out of the alcove. “Let’s go. We’re almost there.”

As a smirk crawled up your face, you followed after him.

“Why have you become so violent?” He mumbled.

“I’ve learned from the best,” smirk melting into a grin, you jammed the blaster into the back of your pants.

Din turned down a hall on the left, then the right, before going straight down another long corridor. Every surface was shiny and reflective. Sterile. You wanted out of here as fast as possible.

Din groaned quietly. “Why do I feel you’re not talking about me?”

Both of you answered his question in unison. “Cara.” You nodded while his head tilted to the side before straightening.

Another left turn.

“Now see,” he mused, stopping to check the layout on the nav in his helmet. “I was going to say Fennec.”

Straight.

Your face twisted in thought. “I could see that…. She-”

He pulled you into a little alcove just as another two troopers walked by, causing you to collide with his chest with a soft thud. The troopers stopped at the sound, peering down the hall you were tucked just out of sight in, making the two of you press further into the wall and by extension, one another. Holding a finger up to your lips, you waited for Din to nod in acknowledgment before staring blankly at the wall next to his shoulder, deep in focus. 

After a moment, both troopers jumped slightly, looking behind them, then ambled off in search of the phantom sound you’d caused down the hall.

“I can’t believe you jumped,” one said.

“You did, too!” The other protested.

“Did not. I was just trying to turn around before you did.”

“Sure,” his friend said sarcastically.

“You know what,” the first one started. “If you don’t stop coming after me, I’m going to tell the Moff about the time you….”

Their voices faded around the corner, soft sounds of bickering trailing to nothing after a few moments.

Din chuckled, looking down at you, but made no effort to move. “You’re very handy to have around.”

You smirked. “Thank you.”

Xxx

A short while later, after just a few twists and turns, you came around a corner that had Din pressing a button on the side of his helmet to pull up his nav, his blaster drawn in the other hand. 

“This is it,” he mumbled, reaching down and pulling out the code cylinder from his belt. Glancing at a panel on the wall a short ways down the hall by a set of doors, his steps picked up as he hurried toward the controls, breaking into a sprint with a sudden, “No. No!” when the doors began to hiss open.

He clicked it in just in time, sending the doors the opposite way, but not quite fast enough for his liking. In a split second he had shifted his weight and began to fire his blaster through the small crack still left open between the two doors. 

You thought it all was over until two hands, two mechanical hands, the same hands you'd seen wrapped around the child on Tython, slipped through the remaining sliver left between the doors and pried them open.

Despite Din’s relentless open fire, the droid continued forward, pulling one arm back and punching Din square in the front of his helmet which sent him flying back into the wall. The droid then opened the doors enough to slip through before they slammed shut behind it.

Menacing red eyes stared lifelessly as it stalked closer to Din.

“Hey, bolt brain!”

The droid turned its head to look at you with a mechanical whirr, and you wasted no time. Charging toward your opponent, you did the attack that was second nature now. It was instinct. 

“Not today, grease breath,” you mumbled as you leapt into the air, wrapping your legs around the neck of the droid in an attempt to take it down.

But instead of both of you going down in a pile of limbs, the droid reached up, grabbed your thigh in its inhumanly tight grip, pulled you from its shoulders, and flung you to the floor as if you weighed nothing. 

The hallway sped by in streaks of dull shine, your skin screeching across the floor until you finally came to a stop several yards away. Nothing was really processing in your mind at that point past, “Well, that didn’t work.”

Suddenly it was like fire was shooting up your leg. Looking down at your thigh near where the droid had grabbed you, there was a tear in your pants, and underneath that a deep, angry gash that looked almost like a burn.

Din had kept firing at the droid while you made your attack, and it seemed a blaster bolt had ricocheted off of the monster and nicked your leg. The more you thought about it, the more it began to hurt. Pain radiated into your lower back and down into your foot, a hiss of discomfort passing through your tightly drawn lips. Biting back a moan, your jaw ticked to the side as you ground your teeth through another wave of agony.

But you didn’t have time to dwell on any of this, even though it had all occurred in just a matter of seconds.

The droid had already set its sights back on Din and had lifted him up against the wall by his throat, holding him in place as it released punch after punch into his visor.

Your only comfort was that his beskar was sure to hold up.

“Din!” You cried out, pushing up onto your palms, the movement causing a new wave of pain to shoot through your leg. Grimacing as you looked down at the wound, your attention was pulled over your shoulder as the platoon of dark troopers left in the bay began to pound on the doors to try and get through.

Turning back toward Din, you reached out as much focus you could offer right now, the wound tugging at the edges of your consciousness and making the lights in the corridor go blurry. The wall behind his head collapsed and a gas line began to fill the hallway with a cloud of the noxious fumes. He was suddenly sending energy down toward his flamethrower, so you withdrew from your mind and engaged your vambrace as well. 

The two pillars of flame met in the middle, dousing the droid in fire and sparks, but it didn’t even seem to slow it down at all. It just looked down at its body as the mechanics moaned and groaned under the heat, then lifted its head back up to look at Din before throwing him down the hall as the droid’s body somehow put out the flames. 

“Din!” You cried out again, anger boiling in your stomach as you watched him slide across the floor and could do nothing to help him. “Dank farrik!”

He was right under the panel and reached up to pull the handle to eject the rest of the dark troopers, but just as his fingers touched the metal, the droid grabbed his leg and tugged him back to the other side of the hall. It took a few steps toward him, then leaned back on one leg and kicked Din in the chest, sending him sliding further down the corridor.

As the droid opened fire at the beskar clad warrior, and Din returned the favor with his whistling birds, you took the opportunity to crawl and get your back up against the wall next to the panel. Relaxing into the durasteel for just a breath, you focused and reached out with the Force, flipping the lever with an unseen hand.

It struggled at first, flickering against the wall as if it didn’t want to move despite your clear intentions for it to just go. The transparisteel at the top of the door between you and the dark troopers cracked from top to bottom. One more hit and they were coming through. As one of the droids reared back to deliver a final punch, the handle flipped, sounding an alarm and opening the bay doors at the back of the area, sucking them all out into space. 

Smirk on your face, you looked up and watched as the dark troopers were pulled away from the small window at the top of the door. “Bye, you sons of-”

You were cut off by the sound of beskar through metal. Turning your head, you looked to find the droid crumbling into a pile of sparks and broken parts at Din’s feet, the beskar spear firmly in his hands. Reattaching the spear to his back, he let out a breath, his shoulders rising and falling with the effort before he turned his head and saw you perched on the floor.

He was quick to rush over to you, crumbling himself to land on his knees at your side, his hands a contradiction as they trembled, moving slowly toward the wound on your thigh. “Did I?”

“Ricochet,” you corrected him quickly. “When I jumped the droid. Got me good. Just…. Just help me up.”

His shoulder went under your arm immediately as he got you to your feet. “You should head to the bridge. I’ll find the brig, get the kid, and-”

“No.” He met your eyes with his visor, and you held his gaze, eyebrows raised in challenge as you tilted your head to the side. “Din, no. He’s part of my clan, too. I’m coming with you.”

He sighed. “Mesh’la….”

Standing up straighter, trying to take more weight on your bad leg, you stumbled a few steps away from him, or at least attempted to. He didn't let you get but a few inches away before his arm was back around your torso again in support. “At least I didn’t shoot you!”

“I didn’t shoot you,” he grumbled, adjusting your weight against his side. 

Staring at the side of his helmet in a deadpan, you couldn’t help but notice there wasn’t even a scuff mark from where the droid had unleashed its fury. That settled you a bit. But not enough to calm your annoyance. “You shot me.”

He rolled his head in exasperation. “It bounced off the death droid.” Turning as a unit, you both began down the hall toward the brig, Din carrying the brunt of your weight on his shoulder.

You snorted a laugh. “According to you, all droids are death droids.”

“Not the point- Don’t change the subject!”

Now you were snickering. “I didn’t.” Clutching his cowl in your hand thrown around his neck, you gave him a gentle, playful shake. “You shot me, he’s my family, too, so I’m coming. End of story. Now let's go.” You tried to walk a little faster, but with a Mandalorian literally strapped to your hip, it didn’t work very well.

After a few steps down the hall, Din spoke softly. “Bolt brain?”

Turning your head, you found his visor studying your face. “Well I couldn’t exactly call it Tin Can, that’s already taken, isn’t it?”

He nodded before you both continued down the corridor, walking in silence.

“I’m sorry I used your name.” The sigh was second nature now. Just part of being friends with the Mandalorian.

He looked at you. “I’m glad you did.”

“Really?” Your eyes flicked over his visor, every curve and angle spectacularly unaffected from the fight.

Din’s head tilted to the side affectionately, his voice soft. “Yeah.” Coming to a stop, he held your gaze for a quiet moment. “You…. I want…. Use it from now on.”

All you could do was nod.

The two of you turned your focus back forward to once again hobble towards the brig.

It was another minute or so before he spoke again. “I liked grease breath.”

“Really?”

He was obviously smiling. “Yeah.”

Xxx

It took a bit longer because of your injury, but you eventually made it to the brig, only one cell indicating a life form.

You could sense him, and it brought a smile to your face, but you could also sense a…. The smile began to melt just as Din waved his hand over the panel to open the door. “Wait,” you tried, but it was too late.

Pushing off of his side, you stood on your own despite the pain. Din looked to you in question before turning toward the cell once the door was open, his shoulders tensed in understanding.

On the bench in the cell sat Grogu waiting patiently in tiny little binders. Standing beside the kid was a man you could only assume was Gideon, a saber drawn and held precariously close over Grogu’s head. You’d seen enough Imperial officials on Coruscant to be able to read the rank on his uniform.

Din had his blaster drawn in an instant, taking aim the only words needed as he held the gaze of the Moff.

“Ah ah ah,” Gideon chided with a smug smirk, waving the saber over the kid’s head. Any closer and the little hairs on his head would begin to singe. It made your blood boil. If he hurt a hair on his head…. “Drop the blaster. Slowly.” Once Din had done what he’d asked, he gestured to you. “And the one you stole back in the hallway.”

You froze, hands inches from gripping the new blaster tucked into the back of your pants. How did he know? Tossing it aggressively onto the floor next to Din’s with a sneer, you cocked your hip to the side and crossed your arms over your chest, fingernails digging into your biceps to distract you from the pain in your leg.

“Now kick them over to me.” Din held his arm out to keep you in place, knowing you’d probably try to lob them at the Moff with a well placed kick. He nudged them gently across the floor toward the man. “Very nice.”

“Give me the kid.” Din’s voice was gruff and down to business, no room for messing around.

“The kid is just fine where he is.” Angling the saber back and forth, admiring it as he waved it slightly over the kid’s head again, a small smile climbed Gideon’s face. He met your eyes. “Mesmerizing, isn’t it? Used to belong to Bo-Katan.” His gaze flicked to Din, noticing how he shifted his weight just slightly. “Yes. I know you’ve been traveling with Bo-Katan. A friendly piece of advice, assume that I know everything. Like the fact that your wrist launcher has fired its one and only salvo.”

With a flick of your left wrist, your vambrace whirred to life. “I haven’t used mine.”

Din held out his arm again to hold you back. “Where is this going?”

You reluctantly disengaged the vambrace, studying the saber as the Moff spoke. It was like nothing you’d ever seen. The blade was black with brilliant white energy crackling along the edges, almost giving it the appearance of lightning on a dark night. It hummed at a different frequency than other sabers, you noticed, and the blade had a different shape than you’d ever seen, almost coming to a point at the end. It was truly beautiful, and you could see why it would be something to war over. 

But it didn’t hold your interest nearly as much as the tiny little green face that sat just beside it. The giant eyes blinking slowly up at you in love and trust despite the situation. Not a hint of fear coming off of him. How did you deserve a love like that? How had that come into your life?

“Almost done, ad’ika,” you sent to him through your mind.

His ears perked up at the sound of your voice in his head, but then his features twisted up in concern, eyes falling down to your wound before coming back up to meet your gaze.

“I’ll be okay. Let’s just get out of here first, okay?”

Grogu grunted softly, unamused, but turned his attention back to the Moff, and you did, too.

“You keep it. I just want the kid,” Din was saying, indicating the saber. You think.

You really needed to pay more attention, you groaned to yourself.

Gideon nodded. “Very well. I’ve already got what I want from him. His blood.” His what? “All I wanted was to study his blood.” A bad feeling ran down your spine. “This child is extremely gifted…. and has been blessed with rare properties that have the potential to bring order back to the galaxy.” He really thought this was an okay thing to be doing…. “I see your bond with him.” That was abrupt. “Take him, but you will leave my ship immediately and we will go our separate ways.” This didn’t feel right, but nothing on this ship did.

Arms crossed over your chest, you scoffed. “Gladly.”

Din turned to you, his voice low. “Go to the bridge.”

Your head snapped to the side to look at him. “What?” Did you just hear him right? Surely he didn’t…. There’s no way…. 

He took the smallest step toward you, his hand coming out to rest lightly on your elbow. “You’re injured, we’re almost done here….” His grip tightened, your wide eyes falling down to study his steady touch before quickly pulling back up to his visor. “Go to the bridge and tell them to get the ship ready. We have a deal to honor.” His thumb traced your upper arm once before his touch fell away, the ghost of his fingers trailing down to take your hand in his. “Once I have the kid, I’ll meet you all back on the transport and we’ll go home.”

Words weren’t working in your head. Nothing was working right now. Say something. “But-” 

“Mesh’la.” For some reason, you felt if you could see his eyes, they would be pleading. “Go. Now. Please.” Din’s hand released yours, the heat from his fingers wrapped around your own evaporating almost instantly in the cold, lifeless interior of the cruiser, haunting you with its memory.

Taking a few steps backwards, ignoring the pain shooting through your leg, you stepped into the hallway, pausing for a moment to stare at Grogu, then Din before turning and starting toward the bridge. You were tempted to glare at the Moff, but he wasn’t worth your time.

You were just about to round the corner when you heard the zing of kyber on beskar.

Without hesitation you turned and ran back toward the room, your wound forgotten as you charged for the door. “Din!”

The Mandalorian backed out of the doorway blocking blow after blow from the Darksaber, the Moff unrelenting in his attacks.

Din finally gained some ground and got his feet under him, gaining some distance between himself and Gideon, enough to right himself and pull his beskar spear as he slowly circled the Moff.

Stop.

A voice you didn’t recognize echoed through your head, ringing as if it were a hammer striking steel.

Stop. No. 

It echoed like it was in a cavern and not on a cruiser.

This is the Way.

As you skidded to a stop in the middle of the hall, you called out his name again. “Din!” You were behind him, but he didn’t turn to look at you, the only indication he heard you his shoulders tensing at the sound of your voice.

Ad. (“Daughter.”)

What was that voice?! And now it was speaking Mando’a?

“Go,” Din ordered gruffly. 

Slanar. (“Go.”)

You wanted to roll your eyes as the voice agreed with your Mandalorian. Of course it did.

“No.”

Ib’tuur jatne tuur ash’ad kyr’amur. (“Today is a good day for someone else to die.”)

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say the Darksaber was talking to you…. Before you could really focus on the blade in the Moff’s hand, Din was moving again. 

“Go,” he yelled again, raising the spear to strike at Gideon, sparks flying on impact. “Now!” He blocked a few more blows from the saber before they leaned into each other, the heat from the kyber causing the spear to turn red hot.

Ret’urcye mhi. (“Maybe we’ll meet again.”)

Okay, mysterious voice. You win this round. You and the Tin Can.

Grunting in frustration, you turned on your heel and ran as fast as you could to the bridge. As you charged through the doors, you held up your hands as at least four blasters were aimed at you. “It’s me, it’s me. Only me.”

“Where’s-”

“Back there,” you grimaced, gesturing over your shoulder with your thumb before you collapsed to the floor clutching your leg.

Cara and Fennec were quick to help you over to a chair, propping your injured leg up on a seat across from you, while Koska sealed the doors and Bo-Katan checked surveillance in the halls.

“I don’t see them,” she said, filtering through several feeds.

“What happened?” Cara asked.

“Blaster ricocheted and got me. We found Gideon and the kid, they made a deal.”

“A deal?”

You nodded to Fennec, grimacing as you clutched the wound on your leg tight.

“He wants us off the ship in exchange for the kid. Mando- Din told me to leave and come here, let you all know we’ll meet back on the transport. Then next thing I know I hear Gideon going at him with the Darksaber-”

“And you didn’t help him?”

You glared at Cara. “Of course I kriffing tried to. Dank farrik, Cara, What else do you think I would do, just sit and watch? Run back here faster? Some other third option?” She rolled her eyes at you, leaning against the console at her back. You sighed, relaxing in your seat, head lolling back and hand coming up to cover your eyes. “He told me to go. Again.” Letting your hand fall down to your lap with a plop, you looked between your two friends. “So I did.” You shrugged. “What else was I supposed to do?”

“He knows what he’s doing,” Fennec offered softly. “He’s only trying to keep you and the kid safe.”

“Yeah, well I am pretty good at that myself,” you grumbled. Before anyone could say anything, you screwed up your face like you’d eaten something sour. “I know, I know.” Arms coming to cross over your chest, you pouted like a petulant child. “It’s not the same.” 

“At the end of the day, what matters is that you’re both able to come home. Does it matter how that happens? Who does the saving?”

All three of you turned your heads over to look at Bo-Katan in unison.

She wouldn’t hold your gazes for long, her eyes falling back to the screen with the surveillance feed. “He’s here at the door…. With the Moff.” She looked at you pointedly, her voice softer and a smile tugging up her face. “And the kid.”

You sat up straight, turning toward the entrance as you waited for the doors to hiss open. Koska punched the button, stepping to the side to give you an unobstructed view, and you could have sworn a soft huff of laughter passed through her modulator.

As soon as Din came through the doors, the kid in one arm, the Darksaber ignited and extended down to the side in the other, the atmosphere in the room shifted. It was like all the air was sucked out. You almost had to glance around and make sure a stray blaster bolt hadn't pierced the viewport and caused a slow leak.

Power radiated off of him as his grip tightened around the hilt of the weapon, his gloves creaking in protest against the pressure while he followed behind Gideon who’s wrists were bound with binders at his front.

The Moff’s eyes were downcast, but they landed on you briefly, sending a shiver crawling down your spine. Sitting up a bit straighter, not wanting to let him win any satisfaction, you grunted in pain slightly when the stretch pulled on the wound on your thigh. Letting a short breath out through your nose to cover the pain, you suddenly forgot all about it when the corner of Gideon’s mouth quirked up in amusement at your suffering.

“The droids miss far less than the troopers,” he mumbled as he passed by you, letting out an annoyed huff as Din nudged him forward toward the rest of the party with a push that was a little more forceful than necessary. 

Din turned his attention toward you, his helmet doing a quick once over from your head down to the floor and back up again. When he saw your leg propped up on the seat in front of where you sat, he disengaged the saber and hurried over to you, kneeling at your side and ignoring your protests.

“I’m fine. Din, I’m fine.” You sighed as he set the saber down on the floor, gently placing Grogu in your lap and inspecting the wound up close. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” he grumbled, reaching for a medkit tucked under one of the stations next to you.

“No, stop it,” you tried to push his hands away as he went to set the kit on your uninjured thigh beside the kid. “Ma- Din, no.”

“Mesh’la,” he sighed, flipping the top of the kit open, groaning in annoyance when you flipped it back shut with an unseen force.

He kept opening it, a total of two more times, only for you to slam it shut again, this time applying a little extra pressure to keep him from being able to open it again. 

“I’m fine.”

His forehead came to rest on your knee where he knelt in front of you, a heavy sigh rounding his shoulders. 

“Mesh’la….”

“Will you just look at it, you overgrown Tin Can?” You couldn’t help the amusement coloring your tone.

Din lifted his head to look up at you. “I did. It’s-” Turning his gaze down to the small tear in your pants from the blaster bolt, he realized the wound was no longer red and angry, no longer open, but neatly mended skin, fresh and healed. “….gone. It’s gone.” Pulling his visor back up toward your face, tilted slightly in question, you shook your head in answer before looking down at Grogu, smile widening slightly.

Looking between the two of you, Grogu let out an unimpressed grunt before he climbed up onto the control panel at your side, scrambling over your lap and arm of your chair in the process.

Whispers began to circle you, faint and indecisive. You looked down to the hilt of your saber accusingly, but it sat quiet, contentedly on your hip almost as if the kyber was sleeping. The voices surged, making you inhale sharply through your nose to try and not draw attention to yourself, when you realized they were coming from the saber in Din’s hand.

Standing near the front of the bridge, Din gave one of his signature sighs as he turned his attention from the Moff, extending the saber with one hand. He was offering it to Bo-Katan. “And now it belongs to her.”

We belong to no one, the voices surged again, clear as the smirk on Moff Gideon’s face as he watched the exchange between beskar warriors.

Unlike back in the hallway, it wasn’t just a singular voice, it was many. It was different. But there wasn’t time to sit and dwell on the variances between the voices in your head. Shaking your head gently, you focused back on the whispers currently curling into your mind.

They weren’t modulated, but you felt as if the voices belonged to those of Mandalorians past, as if the blade spoke for Mandalore. And in a way, you guess it did. If it had chosen the Mandalorian people, that kyber spoke for a nation. Suddenly it made the taunting voice of your own blade seem small. Insignificant.

Your kyber didn’t like that, didn’t like being pushed to the side, being made to feel small, and started to hum, the vibrations filling your mind with an annoying frequency you couldn’t shake.

It spoke for Mandalorians.

So why was it speaking to you?

Before you fully registered what you were doing, you found your feet had carried you closer to the Moff, something in his demeanor not sitting quite right in the back of your mind. This was too easy. 

The pull of the Darksaber drew you further in, its gentle ebb and flow of energy washing softly over you like cresting waves. It was every bit like Mandalorians, at least the ones you knew. Rough around the edges, intimidating and brilliant. But its aura was also soft, and somewhat inviting if you knew where to look. Underneath the rough exterior and harsh lines it offered a warmth unlike any other…. Like a certain beskar clad bounty hunter you knew.

No voices came anymore, but the hum morphed into a steady pulse, almost like a heartbeat, the higher pitch of your purple kyber beating in tandem with the low thrum of the dark blade.

The hum faded slightly to the background as an alarm started blaring at one of the stations, pulling all eyes over toward the sound.

“The ray shields have been breached. We’re being boarded,” Fennec said, going over to the console and disengaging the alarm, her eyes wide on the screen.

“How many life forms?” Bo-Katan asked, walking toward the station.

No matter how far you reached out, you didn’t feel any life forms beyond this ship. And that thought made your gut sink. “None,” you mumbled to yourself.

Fennec turned to the group, swallowing roughly. “None.”

Everyone sprung into action, the slap of footsteps on the deck echoing in your head. The hollow thud thud thud of each boot fall ricocheting in your ears made it seem like the space was spinning slowly. 

Din picked up Grogu and set him on the floor by the nearest console, leaning up against its side. “Don’t worry, kid. We’re gonna get you out of here.”

The air was tense as everyone stood in silence once they’d reached their positions. It sounded strange when Fennec called out an order. “Seal the blast doors.” Her voice a stark contrast to the low drone of the ship.

All eyes were on the door once you pressed the button and the extra layer slipped between you and the dark troopers. It was only a matter of time before- 

Then Koska said what you’d all been dreading. “They’re here.” Glancing at the small screen, she turned back toward the door, lifting her blaster higher.

It was odd to know an enemy awaited you so closely and yet you could sense nothing. Not a flicker, or a spark, or a-

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

Thud.

The metal door moaned under the pressure, and began to crumple in the center from the repeated strikes of the dark troopers’ fists. 

Blow after blow, the durasteel bent further, nearly separating in the center to reveal your enemy on the other side. 

Every pair of feet shifted nervously, trigger fingers twitched with each thud. 

You saw Cara toss her head to the side slightly, her eyes fluttering shut for just a moment before they flew back open as she rolled her shoulders back.

Bo-Katan held two blasters up at the ready, and for all accounts seemed steady. But you saw the shallow breaths she was taking. You knew how to read the body beneath the beskar.

No one in here thought they were walking out. 

At least, not all of you.

There has to be a way, you thought, turning toward Gideon. 

He was grinning.

“Make them stop,” you ordered gruffly, never lowering your blaster from its aim at the door.

As Gideon began to laugh, you made a split second decision and turned your blaster on him, switching it to stun mode. But he didn’t know that, you just wanted him to hear the whir of the mechanics as it came to life, a very clear threat to make him sweat.

The Moff surveyed the team surrounding himself and the Mandalorian, all weapons besides your own drawn and pointed at the doors as the constant thud thud thud of the dark troopers banged against the durasteel. But he only smiled wider as he looked at the crumpling steel, then at Din pointedly, completely ignoring you. “You have an impressive fire team protecting you. But I think we all know, after a valiant stand, everyone in this room will be dead…. but me…. and the child.” His eyes landed on you again, and it seemed like something went unsaid, but you didn’t get the chance to press him on it.

Rolling your eyes, you glared at him. “Can someone please shut him up?” 

An alarm began to beep from one of the consoles, a ship through the viewport catching your eye. 

Koska went over to turn off the alert. “An X-wing.”

Letting out a huff, Cara adjusted the rifle braced on her shoulder. “One X-wing? Great. We’re saved.”

After closing the distance between herself and another console, Bo-Katan pressed a button and spoke into the built in comm. “Incoming craft, identify yourself.”

Grogu had perked up the moment the ship had flown by, and it had made your spine straighten, too. When his tiny eyes met yours across the room, you smiled softly, lowering your blaster before switching it to safety and holstering it once again. 

Nodding to the child, you both tilted your head almost as if you heard something and smiled a bit more broadly. “I feel it, too, kid.”

Fennec spoke quietly, her voice a mixture of hope, but also wariness. “Why did they stop?”

That’s when you realized the steady thump thump thump of the dark troopers had gone silent. A glance at the screen on one of the consoles showed they all stood facing away from the door. They were ready. Waiting. 

Din looked at you, hands on your hips easily as you held the kids' gaze, then at Grogu, his large eyes blinking slowly but wide and alert as he looked up at you, and Din realized you both were completely at ease. Then he turned to Gideon, holstering his own blaster. 

Seeing the Mandalorian put down his weapons after a cue from a bartender and a baby, you couldn’t help the grin on your face as you looked down at the Moff, your voice quiet. “It’s over.”

Gideon scoffed. “It’s one X-wing.”

Taking a step closer, you shook your head, your voice a tad firmer. “It’s done.”

Bo-Katan lowered her blasters as she went to the console with the screen. She watched in silence as a lone figure emerged from the X-wing, ignited a saber and began to clear out the dark troopers. “A Jedi?”

The smugness melted off of Gideon’s face, and it made something in your chest pull tight in satisfaction. “What’s the plan now, Moff? Didn’t plan for a laser sword?”

Gideon hummed in thought. “Didn't account for two….”

Turning your attention back on the now silent door, everything seemed to stretch out. Time elongated, a second was like a minute, the space in front of you once only feet suddenly looked like miles. Nothing looked right, everything felt off, and you realized you heard absolutely nothing at all. No chatter, no alarms, no calming breaths as one of your friends stabilized their blasters.

Something was about to happen. 

The voices and the hum surged once again, tumbling back into your consciousness along with every other sound from the deck. They began to spread out, time almost seeming to slow further with them, and a low thrum filled the space in between. 

The hairs on the back of your neck stood on end, and everything in your body told you to turn back around and face Gideon.

Turning as fast as you could, but what seemed so slowly, like you were moving through water, you saw the Moff pull a blaster and fire off a few shots at Bo-Katan, bolts of light ricocheting off her beskar left and right before she fell to the ground.

Reaching out, you sensed she wasn’t injured, so you kept eyes on the Moff, everything slowing down further as he turned to take aim at Grogu. 

But this time it was different. While everything else slowed, it was like you were moving incredibly fast.

You could sense the intent of the others before they acted, so you knew Din was going to dive in front of the kid to block the bolts with his armor, Cara was going to disarm him, and Fennec would make sure he didn’t move with the end of her blaster aimed strategically at him.

The scene resumed normal speed to your mind, everyone playing their part to a T. Din slid in front of the kid, shots bouncing off his armor, and every set of eyes on the deck was aimed at the Moff as he froze, blaster still pointed toward Din.

“Drop it!” Fennec barked, her rifle whirring to life as she took aim, Koska and Cara following suit.

After a quick glance around, Gideon pushed the barrel of the blaster up under his chin.

“Oh no you don’t,” you muttered, starting forward.

But before he could pull the trigger, Cara had knocked it out of his hands with the butt of her rifle, then whacked him in the face for good measure.

Moving faster than the air around you, you were at his side, towering over him with your saber drawn. Tip of the blade at his throat in seconds, you let out a long breath as all the voices and hums silenced themselves at once.

“Did you account for three?”

As soon as you ignited the blade, all the chitter and humming stopped. The quiet drone of the ship flying through space and the beep of consoles sounded so much louder than before as you focused on the tight expression of the Moff.

Gideon glanced at you down the length of the blade, fear in his eyes, but also something cocky. “Just as I thought,” he mumbled.

Before you could ask what in the hell he meant, the kid cooed near the screen displaying the rogue Jedi clearing out the ship, pulling your attention away for just a moment. It was such a relief to have him back in your line of sight again, you almost forgot about the villain at your feet. Almost.

Gideon continued to stare at you, the smirk on his face crawling ever higher, while the amusement in his eyes unnerved you.

“What?” You muttered lowly, trying not to draw the attention of everyone in the party to what felt like a private conversation.

The smirk melted into a broad grin, which in turn pulled your brows further together in question.

“Nothing. I’ve just had a realization, is all,” the Moff mused. “When all of this is over, and the dark troopers have left me the only one standing…. Perhaps I can be convinced to include you in the deal, as well.”

Your eyes narrowed to slits, the end of your saber getting just enough closer to his skin that any facial hairs would shrivel away from the heat. It followed him up as Gideon got back to his feet with a groan, Din stepping in to make sure the binders around his wrists were fastened extra tight. 

“You still think this is going to go your way?” Grip adjusting on the hilt of your saber, fingers stretching then tightening into a sturdier hold, you grinned as the Moff glanced down at the purple blade and swallowed tightly.  Letting out a huff of air, you held his gaze once it pulled back up to yours. “Fine. I’ll play. And why would I want that?”

Despite his nerves, his grin took a wicked turn. “You seem the type to be on the winning side.”

In a matter of moments you’d disengaged your saber, and closed the few steps left between you. A quick jab of your elbow to his chest knocked the wind out of him, then you flipped it in your hand to jam the butt of the hilt against Gideon’s temple, knocking him to the ground; the toe of your boot landed a swift kick near his spine, squarely to his left kidney to keep him down as he tried to scramble back up.

“You’re right,” you said plainly, looking down at him as the rest of the deck looked on in silence. “I am on the winning side.” Leaning down closer toward his face, you enjoyed how he shrunk away slightly. “It’s just not yours.”

“Don’t be so sure about that,” he grumbled, trying to get back upright. Struggling with his bound hands, his cape twisted over his shoulder obstructed his view, which only got worse as he tried to bat it away with his joined palms. The press of Fennec’s rifle into his spine made him still, his eyes fluttering shut as he let out a defeated huff through his nose.

You stayed close to his face, a smug smile turning up your features. “Jokes on you, Moff. I’m not sure of anything.”

Din sighed heavily off to your left, and you could just make out his head shaking in your peripherals, hand cradling his forehead as it continued to rock back and forth.

“Well I am,” Cara said calmly. “And we’re all gonna die if we don’t come up with a plan to fight these walking gear boxes.”

“We don’t need a plan, Cara. It’s being taken care of.” You pointed to the screen.

“One X-wing?” She scoffed. “You’ll forgive me if I have trouble believing that.” Her weight shifted to one side. “We need any ideas to beat these-”

“You can’t,” Gideon laughed. He turned to the side and spit out a mouthful of blood from when Cara had bashed him with her rifle. When he smiled, his teeth were covered in streaks of red, making his threat all the more menacing. He turned to look at Din pointedly. “You had your hands full with one…. Let’s see how you do against a platoon.”

You’d never seen Mandalorians look uneasy, but as you glanced around the deck, every set of beskar was shifting their weight side to side uncomfortably, sharing looks you didn’t like the sound of.

Turning back toward the screen, a sneer started up your face. “Sorry to burst your bubble, Moff, but it looks like you’re a few droids short of a platoon.”

Gideon was suddenly at your ear, but still on the floor at your feet. His words mumbled into his shoulder somehow reached you as if he was right next to you. “I’m trying not to take this personally, girl, but you need to make a choice. All of your friends are about to die. You can either join them, or join me. The kid and yourself would be safe…. Well looked after. I’d just…. Need a small donation of blood from time to time.”

Your eyes widened as you looked down at him. Meeting his gaze, he smirked.

“In the scheme of things, it’s a small price to pay.”

You jerked him up with an unseen force, holding him nearly nose to nose as you gripped your hands in the front of his cape to pull him down to your eye level. Every blaster in the room whirled to aim at the two of you, the whirr of charging mechanics filling the bridge. “The only price I’m willing to pay, Moff, is you at the end of a rope.” 

The man only blinked at you. You saw red.

Your hands clenched his cape so tightly you were surprised you didn’t hear the sound of stitches ripping under the pressure. Tugging him further down, you made him meet you eye to eye. “Now leave my friends and my family alone, you ass.” With a good shove, you pushed him backwards into Cara’s waiting grasp. “Usen'ye, shabuir.” (“Go away, fucker.”)

“The Mando’a language always fascinated me,” he mused, holding your gaze as he taunted. “So many words for such a stoic people. Too bad it’s dying out just like its speakers….”

You were closing the distance between you in an instant. “Ib'tuur jatne tuur gar kyr'amur.” (“Today is a good day for you to die.”)

Din stepped forward, catching your arm with his hand and stopped you short.

Gideon was grinning like a fool. “That’s not a good way to treat someone offering you an out….”

“You’re not offering me an out. You’re offering me a prison.”

“I’m offering you a way to walk off of this ship.”

Wrestling your arm free from Din’s hold - it wasn’t hard, he didn’t put up much resistance - you closed the final step between Gideon and yourself, toe to toe with him in an instant. Without hesitation you dropped to your haunches, extending one leg and spun. Swiping your leg under his, you dropped him back down to the floor with a thump.

Back on your feet faster than anyone could blink, you stared down at the floundering Imperial. “Sorry. Can’t offer you the same courtesy.” You shrugged. “Ni'duraa.” (“I look down on you.”)

Gideon huffed through his nose in annoyance, glaring up at you, but his voice remained calm, and somehow that was worse. “There was a time there was honor among Jedi.” He rolled from his side onto his back, propped up on his elbows.

“I am no Jedi.”

He nodded once, eyes staring across the bridge in thought. “And what of the Mandalorian Creed, where is your honor from that?” Gideons eyes landed back on yours, something in them sparking like he thought he’d won. Like a tooka with a scurrier.

“I am not Mandalorian.”

The Moff’s face crumpled in frustration, and he let out a huff. “Then what-”

You’d had enough. Taking a step closer so the tips of your boots touched the soles of his, you straightened your spine as you glowered down at him. You felt all the other bodies in the room shifting closer to you, whether for support or back up, you didn’t know, but it was appreciated all the same. Closest on your left was Din, the glint of beskar coming into your peripheral and causing the side of your mouth to twitch up. He was just close enough that his upper arm brushed yours. And you knew it was his way of saying “I’m here” without having to say a word.

“No matter what I am, you do not deserve my honor, Gideon. You deserve less than my absolute worst. You tried to destroy my home. You tried to tear apart my family and took my son. You’ve had a bounty on my head for months, and tried to get me killed time and time again. Not to mention whatever sick and twisted things happened in that base back on Nevarro…. I could go on, but you’re not worth the air it’d take to say it all. You deserve less. Less than the least I can give.”

Gideon smirked. “Passionate words for someone proclaiming to care so little.”

This time you smirked, and it made his falter. “That’s the problem. I care too much. But you don’t deserve any of it. I won’t let you. You’ve stolen enough from me. That ends now.”

“And she’s a bartender,” Fennec leaned in to say. “That above all is what matters most in my book.”

Turning your gaze up to look at your friend, brows arched as you shook your head good naturedly, you let your weight shift to one side. “You just want that drink I owe you.”

She shrugged, a smirk working its way up her face now. It seemed to be contagious. “Wouldn’t say no….”

Grogu cooed, resting his hand on the screen as the Jedi waded through the dark troopers as if they were nothing. Quietly moving to stand behind him, you placed your hand on his back gently, rubbing it in soothing circles as you lowered to your haunches to be on his level. “Yeah. I know. I feel it too, kid.”

Din was perched on one knee in front of the console, just to your left. When he spoke, his voice was low, almost sad. “Is it….”

You nodded, eyes never leaving the child. “One of the good ones, Din.”

He hesitated, his head tilting to the side as he looked at his ward. “So Grogu would be safe?”

The quiet warble in his voice pulled your gaze to his visor briefly, but just like always, the hard steel gave nothing away he didn’t want it to.

You looked back at the kid, hand coming up to rub the back of his tiny head. “He’d be with his own kind.” Bringing your hand back down to rest on his small back, you resumed the soothing circles before you stilled, staring at the screen. 

You were looking at the one who would take the kid away from you. After everything you’d just done to get him back. He was here. In your hands, your clan was complete and now it was about to be…. He was going to….

After your thumb traced absent patterns against his tiny, scratchy robes, you let your hand fall back to your lap, clutched tightly in your other.

Din’s visor turned back to you. “That’s not what I asked.” He sounded like he understood, but he also sounded confused, which made you smile softly. That was normal for this subject matter. 

Keeping your eyes on Grogu, you nodded once again, your voice every bit as soft as Din’s had been. “He’d finally get the training he needs. That he deserves.”

Din sighed heavily, his weight shifting slightly. “Mesh’la….” The one leg came up, and he rocked back on his heels so he was crouched beside you.

You continued. “Green sabers are consulars. They are wise. Think things through. This one should make a fine teacher if they adhere to any of the old ways-”

Din’s hand came to rest on yours still clutched tightly in your lap, his voice low in understanding. “Mesh’la, that’s not what I asked.”

Lifting your eyes from where they fell to study his hand on yours, you looked at Din as a sad smile twisted up the side of your face. “I know.” Swallowing roughly, you blinked back tears as you turned back to Grogu. The child was easier to face, yet your heart broke a little bit more each time you saw him. When you spoke again, your voice was barely more than a whisper. “But that’s the only answer I have to give.”

The Jedi was at the door now, taking out the last of the droids, while you and Din shared a long, loaded look over the top of Grogu’s head.

Once everything fell silent, Din turned his gaze down onto the child for a moment, his shoulders rising and falling with heavy breaths.

Din got to his feet, scooping up the kid, and turned toward the front of the bridge. “Open the doors.”

When no one moved, he strode calmly toward the entrance, setting Grogu down on the console you’d been sitting in front of when he’d come in. “I said, open the doors.”

Fennec slightly rolled her head in disbelief. “Are you crazy?”

Din pushed the proper button on the console, and the doors hissed open, revealing a shadowy figure in a cloud of smoke that had a green tint and the soft hum of a saber.

My dream…. You blinked rapidly as flashes of your dream on Boba’s ship replaced the scene in front of you, and they were so close it was hard to distinguish one from the other. It hadn’t been a dream. It was a vision. But then if…. The fight outside the cantina. That meant…. What else had you seen? As the saber disengaged you remembered in a flash reaching for the shadow of the child and he had turned to smoke through your fingers. Gone.

Turning to look at Grogu, you knew where this was going, and your gut sank down to the lower decks below your feet. You knew from the moment you saw the X-wing, if you were being honest, had felt it like the kid had, but…. You could hope, couldn’t you?

The figure emerged from the smoke, tossing their hood back, and suddenly having a form instead of a shadow made this all too real.

You’d just gotten him back.

And now he was about to leave again.

This wasn’t fair.

The hood now pulled back, you saw a young man about your age, blonde somewhat unkempt hair, and kind eyes that seemed to see right through you. It was hard to tell, but the longer you stared, it seemed like he had scars on his face, and curiosity from your days behind the bar nearly got the better of you to ask where they came from. His entire aura was kind and peaceful, a good match for Grogu, but something underneath hinted at something…. haunted. He was plagued by something bigger than him, something he could never shake…. But it seemed to have made him stronger.

Din stepped forward. “Are you a Jedi?” You couldn’t blame him. He’d defaulted into protective father mode. He was just making sure the child would be safe. 

“I am.” The Jedi extended a hand toward Grogu as he peeked around the chair in front of the console Din had set him on. “Come, little one.”

Din hesitated. “He doesn’t want to go with you.” He almost sounded hopeful, and that was nearly as heartbreaking as what you knew was coming.

“He wants your permission,” the Jedi corrected softly. “He is strong with the Force, but talent without training is nothing. I will give my life to protect the child…. but he will not be safe until he masters his abilities.”

Din turned to look at you over his shoulder, and it was all you could do to nod in confirmation. He turned back toward Grogu and went to get him out of the chair.

While Din stooped to pick up the child, suddenly a voice filled your mind. “And what about you, young one? Are you not coming, too?” Lifting your eyes to meet the Jedi’s you saw him focusing on the man in beskar and his tiny ward, only shooting you a fleeting glance before looking away yet again. “I sensed another. I know it’s you. You’re strong with the ways of the Force, like your little friend here. But I also sense much fear, much turmoil in you…. Without training, that will only fester and grow into something I fear you will not be able to contain.”

Shaking your head almost imperceptibly, you reached out into his mind, smiling softly in satisfaction when his eyes met yours briefly in surprise. “Thank you for your concern, Master, but I’ve made it this far on my own. The Force hasn’t abandoned me yet.”

Making your way over to stand at Din’s side, one hand resting on his pauldron to stabilize yourself, you smiled down at Grogu softly. Glancing at the Jedi out of the corner of your eye, you saw him looking at you.

The Jedi returned the smile. “Call me Luke. And it isn’t fear of abandonment that concerns me. It’s the opposite, actually. I fear it will overwhelm you, twist you into something you hardly recognize.”

Din held Grogu in front of him so that they were able to look at one another. His voice was soft and heavily affected, but you could tell he was trying to be strong. “Hey, go on. That’s who you belong with. He’s one of your kind.”

Glancing up at Din, you smiled softly before it quickly melted back towards a frown, your eyes falling back onto the child.

“I’ll see you again.” His voice was broken. “I promise.”

The kid reached up, placing his hand on the right side of Din’s helmet as he blinked his big eyes slowly. You had to look down at the ground to collect yourself. It was easy to forget Grogu was actually older than everyone on this ship until he did something like this, and let a little bit of that wisdom of his years shine through in his eyes. He may not be able to speak yet, but his eyes spoke volumes.

As he looked at Din, words surrounded you.

I see you. I know you. I love you. Thank you. I’m going to be okay. You’re going to be okay. Take care of each other. And something along the lines of Don’t forget to tell Peli I’ll miss her.

You opened your mouth to tell Din everything the kid was saying, but Grogu must have done you one better and passed it on to you both, because after a moment of stuttered breathing, Din reached up and removed his helmet.

Mouth snapping shut, your eyes immediately fell to his chest plate, wide before you blinked back tears. Then they returned to Grogu, a sense of calm washing over you once again.

You kept your eyes on the kid, not daring to look up at Din’s face, his cape clutched tightly in your right hand as your left cradled Grogu’s back. “As long as I have this, I’m not too worried about that.”

“That’s what worries me.” Your eyes pulled to Luke’s in question. “Things change.”

Eyes back on the child, you smiled as he peered up at you with a soft coo. “Some don’t.”

Grogu reached out toward the Mandalorian once again, his small hand touching the side of his cheek that no longer bore a helmet.

While you wouldn’t pull your eyes up to see the look on Din’s face, you felt everything you needed to. The room surged with love and calm, peace…. But also a great deal of sadness and longing. The mix was coming from both of them.

This was exactly what the kid needed, but that didn’t mean it hurt any less. Din called him his son around you once or twice, as did you, but you knew deep down he struggled with the technicalities of that relationship. Their bond was something deeper, more than just father and son, and he knew that. But Din was nowhere close to admitting that yet, and you couldn’t tell if it was that that hurt him more, or the impending absence of the child.

Either way, it swelled low in his gut, simmering in the background as he put on a brave face for his tiny ward.

“All right, pal. It’s time to go.” Grogu whined softly, his ears drooping down toward his shoulders as he peered up at Din. “Don’t be afraid.”

You felt Din’s eyes land on you, the child’s following shortly after. As you peered down into his big wide eyes, tears began to brim in your own. Reaching out and tracing the line of his ear with your finger, pinching the end lightly when you got there, you brought your finger to his small clawed hand, smiling and letting out a breath when he grasped it tightly. With a shaky inhale, you repeated the words you’d said when you thought he was staying with Ahsoka, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I would run for my life a thousand times over if it meant I got to know you again.”

Din lowered to his haunches, setting Grogu on the floor before rising back to his full height. You half expected to see him jerk his head toward the Jedi to motion the kid across, but he just looked at Luke, then down at Grogu, his head tilting slightly as the child clung to his boot and gazed up at him. 

It was a wonder you saw anything as he moved in your peripherals, tears blurring your vision as you stared down at the kid. 

Grogu’s soft babbles filled the cabin, making your heart hurt just as much as the Mandalorian’s responding silence.

The beeps of an astromech droid came from behind the Jedi, pulling Grogu’s attention away from his caretaker, and you let out a soft breath in relief. Din’s hand found its way into your left hand, clutching it tightly while your right still grasped at his cape to keep you upright.

“Last chance, young one,” Luke’s voice drifted into your mind once again. Looking at him, he didn’t even look at you, he watched Grogu and the droid, nodding to the Mandalorian after a moment. Once Grogu ambled over toward the Droid who bleeped and blooped at him, Luke stooped down to pick up the child, lifting back to his full height. Finally, he met your gaze.

“My answer is the same.” You squeezed Din’s hand.

Standing beside him, just slightly behind, you clutched his cape tightly in your hand to ground yourself. His hair in your peripherals was dark, curly, a mess atop his head you wanted to reach up and shuffle into submission.

You kept your eyes straight ahead on the kid in the arms of the Jedi, not allowing yourself to be the reason he broke his Creed. Technically he’d already broken it, removing his helmet for Grogu, but that didn’t mean anyone else could just walk up and stare. No matter how badly you wanted to.

He turned his head just slightly and you saw the dusting of facial hair out of the corner of your eye, grays mixed in with the dark. It suited him.

“Be careful, then.” Your eyes flicked back up to meet Luke’s as he continued. “Be mindful. I fear for the turmoil I see twisting away in you….”

With a small nod of his head, Luke held Din’s gaze once again. “May the Force be with you.” The Jedi’s eyes fell to yours briefly before landing back on the child. “Beware your attachments, young one. They can be your downfall. Even the best Jedi have fallen because of them.”

“You sound like a friend of mine….”

He turned to walk away with Grogu, but not before you caught the smirk starting up his face. “They sound wise.”

“She is. A Jedi herself, actually. Or used to be. Ahsoka Tano, taught me how to jump-” You shook your head. “It’s not important.” You huffed, shaking your head again when you saw Din turn to look at you out of the corner of your eye. “I meant she talks in riddles.” 

“Every great Jedi does.”

“So I’m learning.” You grinned. Looking into Grogu’s eyes one more time as you waited for the door to close, you winked at him, a soft grin pulling up your face. “Goodbye, kid. Don’t eat all the frogs.” He blinked at you with a gentle huff. “Be good.”

You could swear he smiled gently as he tilted his head to the side. He knew what you meant. Be good, yes, don’t cause trouble, but also be good, do your best. Show them what you’ve got.

Images of that first dream the two of you shared flashed through your mind. In the Temple where you covered him, your shadow giving him hope in a dark time, the vision giving you hope on your own difficult days.

“Kar'taylir darasuum. I’ll always love you. I have since before we met, ad’ika.” (“To know in the heart forever.”)

Din lifted his chin in acknowledgment toward the child, the motion blurring in your peripherals through unshed tears right before the elevator slid closed.

You hesitated, taking in a sharp breath before whispering one last word through the Force. “Goodbye.”

As the elevator at the end of the hallway closed, shutting off the last chapter of his story, Din let out a sigh.

Repeating your words from earlier when you first sensed Grogu on the cruiser, they now felt hollow somewhere deep in your chest as you sensed him drifting further away. “He’s going to be okay.” Silence hung heavy in the air, filling the void in your heart with cold, vacant fingers that gripped it tight. “We’re going to be okay.”

Din nodded once, the motion stilted in your peripherals, his voice quiet. “I know.”

Darting your eyes down to his helmet on the floor, you bent down and picked it up, gripping the cool beskar tightly as you stared down at it, careful to not look at his reflection on its shiny surface as he turned toward you.

The rest of the party shuffled out of the bridge, Cara dragging a mumbling Gideon with her. You tried to look at him, but Din’s hand on your chin pulled you back toward him before you could. Swallowing roughly, you stared at his chest piece, blinking once, twice before Bo-Katan’s voice made you let go of a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“I’ve programmed the ship to land on- Well, that’s not important. Our temporary base of operations until we take back Mandalore. Things are about to change now that you have the Darksaber. We….” She sighed. “We should talk.” After a moment of silence, she started walking out of the room. “We’ll be back on the transport. Meet us there when you’re ready to head…. Wherever it is you’re headed.”

The door slid closed after her, leaving the two of you alone in the bridge, surrounded by silence, aside from a few beeping panels as the ship slipped through space.

You could feel Din’s eyes on you, his hand still gently under your chin as he tried to tip your head back to look up at him.

Shutting your eyes quickly as he angled your head back, you kept them closed tightly, extending his helmet toward him. “Here.”

The weight of the helmet was removed from your hands wordlessly, before you heard the thud of it resting on the floor again, your eyebrow cocking in question. 

Your breath caught in your chest when his own warm breaths fanned across your face, dangerously close to where you’d thought about him being too many times. Out of instinct your hands wound up into his cowl to pull him the last few inches closer until you were basically one being, every bit of him a part of every bit of you.

Continuing up around his neck, your hands tentatively curled up into his hair, threading through the mess and earning a heavy sigh against your face, his forehead falling against yours softly.

Unable to help yourself, your hands continued exploring, pulling forward onto his face, mapping his features under your fingertips. Holding his cheeks in your hands, you smiled, a soft laugh of relief breaking through before suddenly the distance disappeared and his lips were on yours.

It was tentative and chaste, every bit what a first kiss usually is, but conveyed so much more than you expected, making your breath stop altogether. 

Pulling apart tentatively, lips still ghosting over one another’s, something passed in the silence, an unspoken understanding, before you both surged forward into a deeper kiss, letting it say everything that needed to be said. Everything that was being felt, every burden and elation. The sadness and relief. The complete and utter peace. It was consuming and yet not enough all at once.

Separating just enough to keep your foreheads joined, you took a deep, shaking breath, swallowing roughly as you kept your eyes closed tight, a smile beginning to twist its way back up your face. Still cradling his cheeks, his hands on your hips kept you held close, his thumbs tracing lazily back and forth.

He speaks, and your world stops. Your breathing turns rapid, your heart is about to climb out of your chest, and your stomach twists in some weightless way.

“Open your eyes, mesh’la.”

You’d heard his voice unmodulated many times, but for some reason, this time it caught you off guard, and you couldn’t find the words to respond. 

You pulled away just a bit, mouth opening and closing but nothing came out. Your eyebrows narrowed in confusion, eyes still tightly closed.

Din reached up and put his gloved hands over yours on his face gently, pressing them down, threading his fingers through yours and clutching them tightly, the leather of his gloves creaking as he did. He spoke quietly, his voice nearly a whisper as he said it again, almost pleadingly.

“Open your eyes.”

Xxx

Tags to come!

[riacte]

"I hope I'll win that All Stars Poll," Luck-Be-With-Ye-Hand solemnly declares as it scrolls through its sad gay fanfiction on tumblr dot com. "I mean, four thousand notes is a significant achievement."

"What?" Sexy-Maidtyn cocks an eyebrow. "You think your desperately homosexual 50 word drabble is sexier than me? In my stockings? I was on live television, dude. You're just some post on a hellsite."

"Erm, exsqueeze me guys, can we stop fighting?" A rather sooty Fine-Lips climbs out from its favourite spot, the burning box.

"Oh shut up, we all know you're boosted by the recency bias," Blush-Pixel grumbles from its corner where it is painstakingly painting a mural of Ren. "I was from 2022. I'll be glad to get some votes."

3L-Never-Ended stares longingly at the mural of Ren, too sad to even campaign for itself.

"Love how we're kind of in the background," the other two moments from Martyn's blog mumble in unison (In-Love-With-Ren and Minecraft-Boyfriend). They've been overshadowed by their famous sibling, that one known as the "fuckass drabble".

"You guys all have weird names," Beautiful-Eyes declares snootily as it sashays into the room. "Look at me: I'm the youngest and I'm gorgeous. Also, I'm one of Ren's champions. There's not that many of them."

"I would know!" Unguided-Hand dramatically sobs into the red scarf it has around its waist. "I'm just a poor unguided hand without my liege! I won Limited Life but he wasn't even there! So instead of talking to him, I just made a lore stream about him!"

"We're just a collection of 'things men will do before actually messaging him'," Beautiful-Eyes wisely points out. "Wait, guys, what's that burning smell?"

All eyes turn to Fine-Lips, who scowls. "What? My arson is controlled within The Box, thank you very much." (Not to be confused with The Box from Double Life)

Sexy-Maidtyn suddenly feels a shudder down its spine. "Guys... I think I might remember... a forgotten moment... a vengeful moment..."

A sudden crash. Fire and sparks. The door gets kicked down. Everybody screams.

"THOUGHT YOU'D SEEN THE LAST OF ME, BITCHES?!" Burning-Tower hollers as it enters the poll with a steel chair.

(Far far away, Altar-Scene sips on its tea, content in knowing it will always be the supreme unhinged moment.)

[lizardsfromspace]

America's Justice TV, Episode #5643, 4/17/20XX

Broadcasting from the gorgeous, warm ocean beaches of Pennsylvania, the latest criminal cases - where YOU, the beautiful television viewers of the Holy Democratic States of America, are the jury!

JUDGE: *banging gavel* So Mr. Perry, you stand accused of running over Mr. Gross' seven year old daughter with the treads of your Ford® Heavy-Duty® SuburbaTank®, MSRP just 15 million at participating dealerships, how do you plead?

MR. PERRY: *laughing* If driving eighty tons of gleaming American steel is a crime, then I'm guilty. But last I checked, this is still America.

JUDGE: Yes - and now it's time for America to vote! *drums, music, flashing lights* The vote is in, and the America's Justice TV Viewer Verdict Brought To You By Krispy Kreme is...not guilty!

MR. PERRY: *laughing* Thank God.

MR. GROSS: He - he murdered my daughter! He-!

JUDGE: *banging gavel* Quiet down, Mr. Gross. As you know, a not guilty vote of over 75% triggers the Reverse Case, where the accuser is now the accused. This was a decisive victory. So now, Mr. Gross - you're facing America's Justice TV! *music, drums*

MR. GROSS: This is idiotic. What am I guilty of -

MR. PERRY: Ain't reckless pedestrianism a crime? And that daughter of yours should've known better than to think a crosswalk was safe.

MR. GROSS: But -

JUDGE: That's right - why weren't you ferrying her across the street in a big, beautiful car? Do you even own a SuburbaTank® or *he laughs* a SuburbaTankForHer®? Or a Coal-Rollin' MegaCruiser®? Don't answer that - it's time for America to vote! *drums, music, flashing lights* And the vote is in! Mr. Gross is guilty of encouraging fatal pedestrianism!

MR. GROSS: This is -

JUDGE: And contempt of court! Now, America, it's time to decide his fate with the America's Justice TV Viewer Sentence Brought To You By Dunkin'. *drums, music, flashing lights* And for the fifty six hundred and forty-third episode in a row, America has chosen death! Now to decide the method with the America's Justice TV Viewer's Choice Method of Death Brought To You By Boeing. *intense drums* This week it's lethal injection! *cutaway to dancing audience members* Yes, lots of love for lethal injection in the house tonight!

MR. GROSS: You're all -

*hard cut to a screen saying "OUR DAILY PRAYER" beside folded hands*

JUDGE: *standing in front of a US flag with a cross behind the stars, and paintings of Jesus and Donald Trump with crowns of thorns* Lord, no matter how despicable we may find pedestrians, please forgive him of his sin. We are simply your instruments of justice, defending our beautiful country and its beautiful trucks from anyone who would dare to harm them, but we must love our enemy with peace and grace...next up on AmericaTV, it's a very special and inspirational episode of Border Wipeout, as a child sick with cancer gets his wish - to make a obstacle for the southern border obstacle course - and you'll never believe how many invaders he takes out with it! *a woman in tattered clothes falling in a watery hole and sinking as a laugh track plays* Coming up next! Don't change the channel! Because there aren't any others!

[casualevan]

New To Superman?

*Swivels around in villain chair petting a cat

So, you just caught up with My Adventures with Superman and you want to know what to read or watch while you wait for new episodes? SAY NO MORE! Here’s a list of personal faves of mine!  Now some notes, different writers have different takes in different decades and the publishers can play it fast and lose with continuity. So going from one story to another, you might notice some changes. Like weather or not Clark’s parents are alive or if Lois dating Clark etcetera etcetera. Don’t worry about it, just roll with it.

Now lets get started with THE SUPER LIST! 

Superman: Birthright 

A solid starting point graphic novel. It’s got everything ya need for his origin story and is a fantastic character study of Clark and his arch enemy Lex Luthor. The art is pretty good as well and does a great job of showing both sides of Clark’s character and power. If you love the show and want to see how the books handle the Man of Steel’s first run in Metropolis then you got yourself a fun book.

Next we’ll get into some movies! Now, you can watch most of these on hbomax so let’s all vote with our wallets and support the official release! That way studios don’t make us wait ANOTHER 20 years for a Superman cartoon. 

Superman: Unbound 

Superman faces a cosmic alien super computer named Brainiac! Braniac’s deal is he wants to put cities in small bottles and then blow up the rest of the planet he collects them from. It’s a cool conflict cuz it’s a villain Superman can’t just PUNCH into submission. As Braniac can just download into another body if he did. So Superman is gonna have to get super smart to out smart a super computer..... listen the movie’s writing is better than mine, trust me.

Superman Vs The Elite

Oh, here we GO! Okay so this full movie is based on ONE issues of the comics. ONE. Not a 6 part mini series arc collected into one trade paperback. ONE COMIC! It was THAT GOOD! Superman meets some new heroes on the block, THE ELITE. They’re GRITTY and DARK and SERIOUS ANTI HEROES who aren’t afraid to KILL the bad guys! They’re also here to try and force Superman to retire his wholesome way of saving the day. This movie has amazing action animation and phenomenal writing that shows why the core character of Clark being kind still resonates with audiences when given the chance. (You’ve probably seen the big speech from this movie passed around youtube a lot and rightly so. This is a good one, go watch it!) Now, Superman has one of the all time iconic origin stories, but how does his story end? Well lots of writers have tried their hands at it. A few of them are good but my personal fave is probably ALL STAR SUPERMAN

Lex Luthor finally finds a way to beat Superman, but Clark isn’t going down without a fight and without saving as many lives as he can. It’s a grand all star parade of all the wild and wacky pulp adventure camp that has built up around the legacy of the Last Son of Krypton. If you want a satisfying conclusion to Superman’s story then it’s hard to top this one. Heck the book is also pretty damn good too! 

There is... a LOT of Superman content. 80 years worth to be exact. This list is far from complete and is only meant to serve as a starting point for diving into all this Super Lore. I for one am glad My Adventures With Superman seems to have lit a fire under the fanbase and I’m happy to welcome all you new readers and watchers to one of my all time favorite Superheroes.  HONERABLE MENTIONS! 

SUPERMAN SMASHES THE KLAN! It’s exactly what the title says. Go read it! It’s inspired by the old school radio show (podcasts for your grandparents) that had REAL WORLD IMPACTS in the USA. 

Finally, the 40′s Cartoons

These are a BIT dated and light on actual plot and character but there’s a retro charm to some of these.  Okay, That’s enough from me. What are YOUR top recommendations for new fans? Let me know in the reblogs! 

[angelguk]

I posted 760 times in 2022

368 posts created (48%)

392 posts reblogged (52%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@stuhde

@zensible

@aevie

@wordfather

@ourheartsareoldfriends

I tagged 426 of my posts in 2022

Only 44% of my posts had no tags

#ask - 261 posts

#<3 - 11 posts

#jungkook x reader - 8 posts

#bts x reader - 7 posts

#jungkook smut - 6 posts

#jungkook scenario - 6 posts

#anon - 5 posts

#jungkook x you - 5 posts

#jungkook fanfic - 5 posts

#jungkook au - 4 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#lexi the only ok one and even that's up for lil debate especially with this season starting off with fez brown ass man asking for her number

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

→ the things i never told you — a jeongguk scenario [03]

member: jeon jeongguk

word count: 4.4k

genre: college!au + smut + fluff + slight crack + best friends to lovers (idiots to lover really) + angst

warnings: mad pining but both side is oblivious  / jk and oc like each other but there’s a misunderstanding between them / jealousy (JEALOUSY!!! jealously is a serious disease oc is chronically ill!!) / taehyung is an instigator / future smut / it’s a no nut november fic so pretend it’s november plz / taehyung as the worst™ / miscommunication </3 / ANGST!

soundtracks: sensitive, alex porat + circles, april + 19th floor, joy crookes + starring role, marina + running up that hill, kate bush

summary: jeon jeongguk is your best friend—and nothing more. you’ve grown up with guy, watched him stumble through his awkward puberty, cheated on tests with him, witnessed his first kiss (which only happened because you persuaded him to kiss siyeon) which only strengthened your unbreakable bond. but now you’re in college and jeongguk isn’t an awkward preteen who needs your help to get girls anymore. it creeps onto you slowly, that feeling you’re harbouring for your best friend. but you’re determined to ignore—that is until taehyung sets of a chain of events that land you in a very interesting predicament. 

a/n: okay so this is now where you guys can start voting for plot points! my inbox is open for ideas :)

SERIES MASTERLIST

He sits down with a rather loud plop. It's the sound that captures your attention, breaking through the soft jazz music filling your ears. It doesn't even take one glimpse to know who it is. You can see it just by peering at his wrist, the glimmering luxurious watch face staring back at you defiantly. It ticks slowly, almost like a premonition that you're acutely aware of. It takes him a couple of patient seconds before he’s tugging at your earphone wires, leaving a droning saxophone forlornly floating in one ear and dunking the other into the blaring sounds of life around you. There's the thud of plastic meeting plastic, mingling with the idle chatter of humans and the gentle trickle of water from the nearby fountain engulfing your senses.. It's only then you look up. He has the audacity to smile, waving the bag clutched in his hands as if it's an olive branch and not a threat.

"Food," He offers into the silence, steadily meeting your eyes. Even with your steel gaze, Taehyung is unwavering, his eyebrow quirked as he awaits your answer.

For a moment your lips are drawn together in a thin defiant line, but then your stomach thunders, tormented by the scent of food sweeping through the air. It’s a betrayal even Taehyung hears, given by the way the corner of his mouth smugly tugs upwards. You only give in because you’re hungry. "Pass it over then."

There's a clear wash of relief slipping over his face, his features falling lax as he hands you the bag. "It's your payment, for the party." You ignore that, peering into the bag to find a delectable packed lunch awaiting you. There's a moment of hesitation. You're not sure you can trust Taehyung's cooking skills. "I bought it, relax. I wouldn't knowingly give you food poisoning," he tacks on, reading the look of doubt on your face. "Just try it. It's pretty good."

You take his word for it because you're ravenous, fingers already clasping around the chopsticks inside the bag. "Thank you," you mutter. It's said reluctantly but Taehyung brushes that off, grateful that you're still even talking to him right now. You'd been avoiding him around campus. You'd been avoiding everyone actually, apart from Chaeyoung and Namjoon but he wasn't about to interject himself into that dynamic. It was really by chance that he saw you here alone, the packed lunch in his bag serendipitous. He watches you pop the lid open quietly, gaze flickering the mountain of work sitting on the table before you. There's evident stress in your eyes and for a brief moment he feels bad for dragging you into this mess. But not bad enough to stop pushing at your buttons just a little more. 

"You've been ignoring my texts," Taehyung says, folding his hands underneath his chin. He purposefully leans forward over the table, almost trapping you can't escape him. You pause, a mouthful of pork and rice filling your cheeks, foraging through your brain for a good excuse. You'd essentially ignored every notification that wasn't university-related since that forsaken party. Which wasn't that long ago honestly. Only seven days of radio silence on your part. If you could push it to tweo weeks you would have, but instead, you're eating food Taehyung has just given you, with the man himself sitting expectantly right across from you. Maybe Taehyung deserved the silent treatment, maybe he didn't. All you knew was that you needed space.

"I was busy." You settle for that, staring pointedly at the pile of work awaiting you. Taehyung's gaze does not falter.

"We still have to talk, you know. What happened at the party?" He questions, ignoring the look you give him.

"Nothing. I was just tired," you retort, digging your chopsticks harshly into the plastic container. "Are you not hungry? Why aren't you eating?"

He shrugs. "Not feeling food right now. But that's beside the point, you haven't been talking to Jeongguk have you?"

You pause, slowly chewing on the food in your mouth. Your skin feels funny even from the mention of his name, but you don't want to reveal that particular reaction to the world just yet. Least not to Taehyung of all people.

"I haven't," you say carefully, keeping your tone as neutral as possible.

Taehyung's forehead creases in confusion. "Why not? Aren't the two of you best friends? Joined at the hip? All that jazz?"

That makes you bristle. "We're friends but we're also adults with different lives and obligations. I talk to him when I can, not all the time Taehyung. As I said, I'm busy."

He purses his lips, fingertips rapping against the plastic table. "Are you sure about that? Jeongguk thinks you're mad at him."

Oh. That takes you by surprise. There had been moments where the conversation had faltered between the two of you, the responsibilities of life getting in the way of your relationship. But nothing malicious ever spawned from those moments of silence, both of you understand the reasoning behind the lack of talking. And it's not like you would try and play catch up on each other's lives whenever you could. But maybe you had been more standoffish than usual. You hadn't opened a single text from him and there were many. You can't blame him for assuming that—it was a direct consequence of your actions after all.

"I'm not mad at him," you mumble. "I'm just too tired to talk to anyone right now. I kind of want to be alone."

Taehyung hums like he understands but you doubt he does. You've never seen him alone for longer than ten minutes at a time but he does have the personality that naturally attracts everyone towards him.

 "That's cool. I thought he had found out about the bet actually." 

You roll your eyes at that, catching Taehyung's suspicious glance at you. "What's with that?" He inquires, elbows firm on the table.

"Nothing," you mutter, but then you remember with sharp clarity the look he's shared with Jackson at the party. You'd been meaning to ask him about it anyway and as luck would have it the  opportunity has presented itself. "I have a question for you, by the way. What the hell was the thing between you and Jackson? At the party."

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564 notes - Posted June 1, 2022

#4

→ the things i never told you — a jeongguk scenario [02]

member: jeon jeongguk

word count: 9.1k

genre: college!au + smut + fluff + slight crack + best friends to lovers (idiots to lover really)

warnings: mad pining but both side is oblivious  / jk and oc like each other but there’s a misunderstanding between them / jealousy / taehyung is an instigator / future smut / it’s a no nut november fic so pretend it’s november plz / taehyung as the worst™ / oc is not a girl's girl im afraid (jealousy is a disease and she is chronically ill!!)

soundtracks: boy, (offonoff) +  i love my boyfriend, (princess chelsea) + is it true, (tame impala) + fire & desire (drake)

summary: jeon jeongguk is your best friend—and nothing more. you’ve grown up with guy, watched him stumble through his awkward puberty, cheated on tests with him, witnessed his first kiss (which only happened because you persuaded him to kiss siyeon) which only strengthened your unbreakable bond. but now you’re in college and jeongguk isn’t an awkward preteen who needs your help to get girls anymore. it creeps onto you slowly, that feeling you’re harbouring for your best friend. but you’re determined to ignore—that is until taehyung sets of a chain of events that land you in a very interesting predicament. 

PART — ONE // TWO (you are reading) // THREE

a/n: there are some drabbles (so called prerequisites) to this au that are not necessary to read but they would be fun to lol :) check my masterlist &lt;3

See the full post

616 notes - Posted May 3, 2022

#3

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐢 𝐧𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 — 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

summary: jeon jeongguk is your best friend—and nothing more. you’ve grown up with the guy, watched him stumble through his awkward puberty, cheated on tests with him, witnessed his first kiss (which only happened because you persuaded him to kiss dara). your bond was virtually unbreakable bond. but now you’re in college and jeongguk isn’t an awkward preteen who needs your help to get girls anymore. it creeps onto you slowly, that feeling you’re harbouring for your best friend. but you’re determined to ignore—that is until taehyung sets off a chain of events that land you in a very interesting predicament.

how this works!

after every new installment a google forum voting session will take place. this is an interactive story so any ideas or concepts you have please feel free to share! updates are weekly <3

See the full post

660 notes - Posted May 23, 2022

#2

→ pu$$y fairy — a jeongguk scenario 03

member: jeon jungkook

word count: 11.3k

genre: smut + college!au + jeongguk and oc are in a weird fwbs without the friendship part just the benefits except jaykay lowkey has feelings + virginity au

warnings: virgin!oc / oral sex (fem & male receiving) / 34+35 (miss grande influence) / mentions of drug usage / jk is essentially losing his mind (you'll see) / angst / emotions are real but everybody in this fic is incapable of acknowledging them / hit and run!!!

soundtracks: how can i forget you girl, 87dance + killing me, omar apollo + night moves, michi + in your body, ¿Téo? + open up, mack keane & esta + tsunami, suzuki saint + give me a kiss, lolo zouai + take care of you, charlotte day wilson

PARTS — ONE // TWO // THREE (you are reading)

a/n: you could read this as a separate one-shot but where's the fun in that?🤔 also highly suggest you listen to the soundtracks!

See the full post

1,113 notes - Posted May 12, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

→ the things i never told you — a jeongguk scenario

member: jeon jeongguk

word count: 6.8k

genre: college!au + smut + fluff + slight crack + best friends to lovers (idiots to lover really)

warnings: mad pining but both side is oblivious  / jk and oc like each other but there’s a misunderstanding between them / jealousy / taehyung is an instigator / future smut / it’s a no nut november fic so pretend it’s november plz / mentions of ahegao (this fic is not about that!!) / oc is not a girl's girl im afraid (jealousy is a disease and she is chronically ill!!)

soundtracks: sgl (now,now) + built this way, (samantha ronson) + drew barrymore, (sza) love flew away, (laufey & adam melchor) + cry, (cat & calmell)

summary: jeon jeongguk is your best friend—and nothing more. you’ve grown up with guy, watched him stumble through his awkward puberty, cheated on tests with him, witnessed his first kiss (which only happened because you persuaded him to kiss siyeon) which only strengthened your unbreakable bond. but now you’re in college and jeongguk isn’t an awkward preteen who needs your help to get girls anymore. it creeps onto you slowly, that feeling you’re harbouring for your best friend. but you’re determined to ignore—that is until taehyung sets of a chain of events that land you in a very interesting predicament. 

PART — ONE (you are reading) // TWO // THREE

See the full post

1,731 notes - Posted April 29, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[lynnedwardswrites]

OC Naming Tag

rules: take your main characters (or whoever your favorites are) and vote whether they fit the meaning of their name or not

Got this from an open tag. If you would like to play, be my guest!! It's hard to know who uses real world vs totally made up names.

Pretty sure I've given all of my main characters intentionally apt names, but lets find out, haha.

Isabella Morgenstern

Isabella: "God is my oath"

This was an intentionally ironic name for my protag, because in the symbolic undertext of the story, "God" is her father. As a child she was absolutely dedicated to her father. She loved him, wanted every ounce of his approval, tried her hardest to do everything he asked of her, fully believing that he always had her best interests at heart. But... then he betrayed her in a big way and she's since kinda sworn herself against her father. But on the flip side, an "oath" or a "swear" can sometimes be something you curse by, instead of revere, so in that way I guess "God" still is her oath...

Morgenstern: "Morning Star"

Yeah this is absolutely a Lucifer reference. She's her father's fallen morning star, rebelling against the will of heaven. Apt. 👌

Creed Hearst

Creed: "a system of religious belief; a faith" (Alt: Credence: "belief in or acceptance of something as true.")

Creed's story is all about soul-filling dedication and trust (before and after betrayal), and it's also about figuring out what you believe is true, outside of what other people have taught you, including overcoming the consequences of prior dedication to static religious credos. It's about shedding an old creed and building a new one. :)

Hearst: "thicket of trees"

This is interesting to me, because I chose Hearst as a Patty Hearst reference (a woman who was kidnapped by a very violent rebel group and later joined them, possibly due to brainwashing, which is kinda what Creed's old military group assumes happened to him when he discovered they were corrupt and ditched them, and kinda what Creed assumes happened to himself when he thinks about his time among their numbers). One of the big questions of Creed's story is who's been brainwashing who, whether Creed's mind is and has ever been his own, and how it feels to be part of something you genuinely believe is true, only to discover it's all a huge lie.

The name Hearst was given to Creed when he was taken custody by the military group and put through their school as a child, and when he left it became a deadname for him. So the idea that the name and the belonging it represented is/was a thicket for him, something getting in the way of seeing the truth, is pretty cool.

Luther Morgenstern

Luther: "army people"

This is hilarious because I named him after the religious reformer, Martin Luther, but Luther's entire backstory is that his conquering warlord of a father sent him on a major military campaign where he failed horribly and tons of people died so. He probably likes his own name about as much as his daughter does.

Morgenstern: "morning star"

Yeah, Luther was his father's fallen one just like Isabella is her father's. And they both end up acting against the Church in one way or another. <3 Also Lucifer is the greatest, most compelling figure in the entire Christian mythos so who wouldn't want to be named after him???

Ines Barbaron

Ines: "pure, holy, chaste"

LOL In Ines's first scene, she shows up naked to a business meeting. She is the book's #1 slut, and Creed is already a huge slut himself. I could not have asked for a better name.

Barbaron: intended to sound like "barbarian"

This is the actual reference to her carnal ways, hahaha

Nic Winter

Nic/Nichole: "victory of the people"

Hmmmm..... well, she and the rest of the people she represents will be free and therefore victorious one day...

Winter: the season

Cold, icy, steeled. Nic is one of a very few number of women who have forced her way in and up through the Wolfguard ranks, and she's had to be super masculine-conforming to do it, so. Yeah?

Solomon Holman

Solomon: "peace" (Alt: Sol: "sun")

Intended as a reference to King Solomon, known for wisdom, but both peace and wisdom are intended to be ironic meanings for Holman. His dedication to "peace" leads him to ignore oppression and harm, which leads to even more oppression and harm. Not very wise.

On the other hand, he is a genuinely warm and friendly guy, for the sun meaning. Two sides of the coin.

Holman: "holy man" "whole man" or "dweller on an island"

The holy and whole meanings are also ironic, but I love the "island dweller" meaning, too. He's so far removed from reality as to be very, very stupid.

[artcalledky]

Should have been Should have been better, than the served Your sauté is just yours Bottom lower Well I grab the rope pull up the pail of H2O from a well, It’s questionable, do you drink it! You must decide for yourselves! Should have been better, than the served Your sauté is just yours Bottom lower Well I grab the rope pull up the pail of H2O from a well, It’s questionable, do you drink it! You must decide for yourselves! I drain from X In a twitter Still called tweet What’s tha push!!!!!……!!!…’l” Xenophob Messenger Will it sounds Robotic As in Private Soacewalk Nah it was P Spacewalk That explains The jerks As stepping on steps We all pee ourselves Never made added later That entity walked, I did and missed aye second but it was disrupted by debris and little debbie’s & star crunches it was world Swiss Roll @ I’m at my days of past 50years Should have been better, than the served Your sauté is just yours Bottom lower Well I grab the rope pull up the pail of H2O from a well, It’s questionable, do you drink it! You must decide for yourselves! My looks and lock’s Drink from Zingers are nearby Who defrosted imperial in aluminum through a microwave That was early 90’s Children We include after debate talks To understand Vance Well, if in the not Trump is going after, coming at you When elected or not elected It’s tyrannical It make’s no sense (Add picture for artcallednonsense) Oh right, shut up we will! To tha artcallednonsense Or artcalled wordsbymm||mmybsdrow Never made a blog for For(e) Just my Hashtags and grits Can you sunny side up (I don’t eat, scrambled or medium over fried) I can describe a Restaurant Rest u runt Thee others paid from family large Metal Iron Steel Sim if reflected Boeing on strike After that guy from Seventies You missed bolts And tires And doors Oh Bowing Should have been better, than the served Your sauté is just yours Bottom lower Well I grab the rope pull up the pail of H2O from a well, It’s questionable, do you drink it! You must decide for yourselves! Clit urethra vagina perineum asshole CUVPA Not even in Uterus and Ovaries CUVPAUO Still don’t know What excites! After WadeVsRoe what do you know? Are woman just a cervix I never added that! Cervix All Woman in biological parts That region between are others! Disregard a whole concept of human is Female Vs Male Let them decided You breathe Play orgasmic dumb after (.your) birth! After not swallowed Copulation ! !! !!! !!!! !!!!! That was one through five Keep reading TV&M Should have been Should have been better, than the served Your sauté is just yours Bottom lower Well I grab the rope pull up the pail of H2O from a well, It’s questionable, do you drink it! You must decide for yourselves! And Vote

[angelicrebirthed]

Prologue... the inTERRORgation

“So after so long, I finally find you..”

“Damn you got the whole US military and I blew so much shit up..”

“Get gud skill issue”

"So you’re the little Jewish kid who beat the Nazis... What's your name? …Ah, Joshua. I am 5 star General Jaspreet Singh, current secretary of defense, war hero of the Persian-American war."

“You killed the WHITE KNIGHT”

(A war in Iran where America successfully enacted regime change, with far less destabilizing consequences.)

(A Sikh man, 45 years of age, gray beard, he's 6'1 medium weight professionally dressed in uniform, beard with a moustache, solid navy blue turban finely wrapped in a Daastar, each crease has a red white and blue stripe, each overlapping, all his medals pinned up, has an extraordinary fancy dagger on his weight, it looks like a combination of a silver and white Kirpan and a standard issue military knife, he is immaculate, no a single crease or wrinkle.)

"Wow, Generals like you go on and on, nice....  It’s ok,resume."

(Joshua’s voice is completely sarcastic with a far bit of assholery)

(He puts his hands on the table, his kara bracelet clicking loudly on the steel table, its noise contrasting a dead silence.)

"You see Joshua, I cannot pardon people who have such extensive lists of crimes, but if I became president which I currently lead in many polls, and many primaries, as a brown gay, oh a Desi, bearded Eisenhower, as a war hero who deposed the evil Mullahs, you have a story with a power tell it to me, everyone loves McCain, John Kerry, US Grant, ah this nation should have more generals as presidents, I am everything American wants, a new face of war, a South Asian, a charmer, someone unique but also tough for the conservatives, young enough for young voters... 

" Wait, aren't you just like those Generals in 1984, both in Orwell's and Indira's power ploys" “completely power hungry and self absorbed”

"You bigoted animal."

(Jaspreet slaps Joshua twice, then punches Josh straight in the nose)

"This nation is nothing without a strong military!"

"Maybe that's a good line" "Push America forward!"

“ A punchline Jaspreet, really funny!”

"Too much weakness, too much wokeness, it needs to be cleaned"

"wait General Singh you aren't human, you're not alive.."

(punches Joshua)

"Oh boy you have a death aura. You aren't even actually acting on free will. You should have died in the war."

"I can sense the true you… are you enslaved…"

"Both parties want me, we have a one party system, economically speaking, not on social issues.... I can't really choose but it's always a guaranteed vote when you’re Pentagon material"

"Tell me and maybe we can be more civilized just let me explain"

"Joshua... I have 3 powers, I can tell if anyone is lying in any way, it is an absolute power of truth, if you lie about anything, this power is absolute there is no way to avoid it, you can't outrun your past. I will know even of you kill me, my men will hunt you, I also know lightning and air manipulation"

"My other is the ability to completely command a person's focus, its like mind control its extraordinarily powerful, my ability is classified, it's how I won the war, I manipulated the enemies attention while they were shot, it is a true distraction, this power comes with high levels of telepathy and other psionics, you might call this " mind control"

(Telepathy indicates he can manipulate a person's pain and pleasure, focusing on his commands feels good, doing nothing feels you with dread, and even pain. This is the carrots and sticks behind his 'command'.)

"I have these powers, you know not to mess with me"

"Why would I, clearly you are the most powerful person I have ever met."

“You remind me of those liberal moderates who both side everything and punish freedom fighters and self defense, those who bullshit me and say work in the system, god I hate them”

(He gestures towards his body guards both with a long list of torture techniques, they flash a series of tools)

"Hey, you said civil - those dicks over there are ready to prick me apart!"

(Joshua feels dread.)

"We know your capabilities, we know you aided an enemy of state to steal classified documents, we know how you beat the KNIGHT, we know about the Angel incident. We know you committed mass murder and a act of torture - doesn’t matter if you had to do it or not.”

"Oh, that hacker girl…"

"A girl, then? Thanks for the hint. That little slip up just halved our targets.”

"Joshua, you are a terrorist" 

"Says the guy who threatens to cut me up…"

"This is a room that doesn't exist - nothing ever happens here.Congress could never find this in a century"

"Did gitmo teach you nothing, Congress finds out, maybe the military teaches you torture is... Bad, even? I know, it’s a shocking concept-”(Joshua feels a light pulse of pain - a growing headache for his disobedience.)

"You see Joshua, when I was a kid, Sikhs in the US couldn't join the army without shaving our beards and being unkesh, forcing us to choose between country and faith. The British and Canadian government would allow us, which is a colonial irony as a proud Desi. However,  made a choice. I did shave it, and put my country before faith. It was hard, very hard to be the first Sikh in this country to be a General, to show the martial prowess of my heritage. You see, I merely follow a set of rules, with no room for error. Violence, whether motivated by politics or race or religion - all of it merely amounts to terrorism. No matter what side, left or right, it doesn’t matter worth a damn. You are all equally guilty in the eyes of the law. And for the sake of that law, that order, a Jew killing a Nazi - with stolen military tech, might I add - well, it must be condemned. 

"Joshua, take this from a big brown Gay Indian American man who is just as against Nazism as you" "They shot up our gurdwaras along with your Temples, I have skin in the game - ha! I mean "

"But we must have law and order, due process, we must be civilized…”

“That is sooo cute!”

“Well i killed the nazis so hahahah”

"Mercy is weakness, Jaspreet! Where were you with those Klansman running amuck, they were hunting me!"

"It sets a bad precedent about vigilante violence."

"You see, right now, I still have to follow orders. I have followed orders my whole life, that's what war is. Orders! Morals come last.Until you are truly on top, you have to follow orders, even then you must follow the orders of those who support you.”(Joshua chuckles.)

"General Singh, I know a small thing about the Raj, wasn't General Reginald Dyers the butcher of Amritsar following orders when his slaughtered the Indians, weren't his Sepoys just following orders, just good soldiers pulling the trigger doing their job...." (Joshua taunts him with history.)

(Jaspreet gets up.)

"You little animal, you filthy racist scum."

(Jaspreet is kicking Joshua on the floor, he's cuffed to a chair, Joshua has his attention pinned to the legs of the table)

"You see all of my ancestors who were male served the Raj, for a century the only job they could do was die for an empire that did nothing but slaughter us, steal from us, starve us. You are an insect for desecrating my heritage!"

"I think you are being a hot headed Punjabi who is being religiously motivated in his attack."

"Maybe you are a terrorist, oh wait you are the government, its only terrorism if you aint in charge"

(Jaspreet flicks his Kara onto his hand and knuckle busts Joshua in the face, for some reason the recoil is abnormal)

(Jaspreet slaps him)

“Maybe it was a forcefield”

"But why would I need to "

"Do a backflip!"

"Sir I'm chained to a chair"

"DO IT!"

(Joshua wiggles around, but he can even jump, then a shockwave of pain for failure)

“HAHAHAH, You will do everything I want, and you are completely powerless”

"I had you focus on doing a backflip, it was impossible, you focused until you failed, if you tried again I would have been unable to harm you"

"I cannot hurt you with my power, but if you fail my order, if you lose focus on compliance, then it the power hurts you. Not me, your fault!"

"Racist people like you need to be taught a lesson"

"I am not racist I am pointing out how you are just like lord Dalhousie"

"You know how many bigots I beat to get where I am, you are just another statistic a obstacle"

"Hey is you beating me religiously or ethnically motivated, or am I just pointing out how you are a disgrace to your ancestors"

"Honestly I didn't even have to use my mental magic to reveal your true self, you are pathetic only slightly more competent than the Nazis I killed, definitely less racist"

"You know what Joshua, I will beat you forever you will be my punching bag"

"That's cute maybe start a little boxing club for war pigs, a little adorable fight club for insecure autocrats who need a stiffy"

“Fat cat plutocrat,all you do is work off that shat”

(The general stabs Joshua hands, Joshua's attention is soon forced completely focused on has hands. The pain is amplified due to the focus, it regenerates slowly but very fast)

"Aaaagh"

"Oh that's bloody"

"Oh look Joshua can regenerate, ah now that's some enhancements we could really use"

(Joshua sings Hebrew letters float, glow and the would disappears)

"Hey Jaspreet I can go all daaaay!"

"I literally said I can heal wounds"

"You little shit"

"You see, this is a black site, A gitmo I can do anything here I will torture you"

"What do you want Jaspreet, a new tank model, Abrams need a mileage boost"

"Oh those F-35 ain't working, ah the military industrial complex not flaws at all"

“Half your budget isn’t being embezzled by some twig virgins jacking off to the zeroes in thier bank account”

"Oh thats a nice argument senator, lets see you back it up with a source!"

“Joshua we fail audits every year, we don’t need a damn source”

"You d##m right Joshua, ill crack you like an egg...

making the mother of all Junta's here kid”

“You know that game is a Joke. about the military…”

“We are untouchable”

"I General Singh, Secretary of Defense hereby command you to tell me, want a story, not some fuel efficient tank made by hippie fascists, I told you mine tell me yours and I will pardon you" 

"I know you have drones, invisibility, teleportation, and the most delicious... A quantum computer capable of stealing the nuclear codes" " the mere existence of those is a existential crisis for our nation "

"I cannot make you speak Joshua, but I can make you focus on your story and I can tell when you lie"

(Wait he actually has a point how can I defeat a person who can literally control a persons ability to think, feel, act, react, and do magic, this one power makes him insane. I need my friends, just gotta comply)

"You see that is how I can mind control, I can make a person focus on a certain action, they cannot do other actions, if they want they can do nothing, that results in pain"

("Joshua cast strength, Geruvah!")

(Joshua is stunned, he can't think straight as if any though unrelated to the command was drowned in brain fog, he is completely paralyzed, wait do nothing it may be painful but that's fine, just do it for 10 minutes, then comply this will show your resilience to Jaspreet)

"I... Can"

(The Hebrew letters float in the air and land on Jaspreet, his arms thick muscular and hairy grow, and grow, he punches the cell wall, it creates a 5 inch crater in solid cement, then the muscle growth fades, not a single cell in his hand bruisd)

“AHHH, damn that feels INCREDIBLE!”

“Honestly, strength is something I admire, forcing your will on others”

“You just stole my magic” Joshua mutters softly only to feel a prick in his mind

"Thanks Joshua, ill loosen up a bit, honestly that strength rush was.. Incredible"

"Tip of the iceberg, that's A fraction of my power"

"Damn I know see the value in that"

"You will pardon me no matter what I do"

(Ok, this next thing gotta be done fast)

"I remember have limitless power, I know psychokinesis, I can move anything with a flick of a finger"

(the two kirpans are floating in front of the Jaspreet's face in front and behind, Joshua's hands are freed from the cuffs)

"Remember I was testing you Jaspreet, seeing who is really on my side, to assess my opponent, you can't use mental magic under intense fear"

"Your BPM is Waaaay too high for your little CMD.EXE mindgame"

"I have reflexes that are enhanced, remember? I can enhance people's bodily abilities, including my own"

"Mind control is neat. But I kinda like my free will"

“Actually Joshua I can still use my focus ability, just don’t pretend to be my equal”

"I want more than a pardon I want complete free reign, I want power, I want pardons for my associates including the hacker, maybe ill give you the tech" "I'm no good to you dead, and neither are you"

"That's why I will not slit your throat with you cute little Kirpan"

“You couldn’t if you tried”

(The kirpan hauntingly scratched his neck so slightly that it cuts off hair)

"Joshua, you are insane"

(Joshua realizes the General was doing a certain breathing technique, it can be used to abnormally lower A person's heartbeat and fear to in a scary amount of time, f**k)

(General Singh commands his attention to focus at the floor, the daggers fall to the ground everyone's attention is focused on the loud clank)

(In that split second Jaspreet grabs Joshua and throws him again the wall pinning him, completely overpowering him)

"You see General Singh, both of our powers completely cancel each other out" "we are at a stalemate"

"I can kill you with my PSI, and PK, I can heal any bruises taken, It doesn't matter because you could hunt me down or disable me from action you don't want that you want to copy my powers"

“You are not my equal, I am the US military”

“I also have ways to cheat death, you think human bodies are good enough”

"You want my tech"

"you could have me commanded, but I can just ignore orders, pain is funny, I have already been through so much I can handle it after all I have the serum and all of the tech you want"

"You got a point Joshua"

"Guards leave"

(They follow Joshua's orders, with Jaspreet giving a nod)

"I'll tell you it started with a dream... A certain man with a power, similar to mine, power that could heal those, protect those. A valuable power. " 

"Then he almost died and gave up that power, to a new leader, to an angel who granted me my power""

"I demand you stay silent General Singh for the entirety of my story, it may take weeks to just review it but it will tell you the hacker you are looking for and you must pardon Her, I will also tell you where my friends are”

“Well they are very very well hidden…”

“Also Joshua you were associating with a internationally known cosmic anomaly know as a humanoid black whole responsible for mass disappearances.” “Yeah he’s our Navigator”

“Oh I know where they are… I captured them.”

"Fine, I have no choice"

"Neither do I"

(Joshua thinks to himself, to sing A song, to strum A melody, hmmm oh a harp, Joshua thinks of the word Kinnor, or the Hebrew word for Harp, then the letters appear on his hands, wrists in forearms)

(Joshua conjures A harp made of light by taking  those Hebrew letters and shaping them into existence, he starts strumming)

"A little music to jog my memories, for it started A while ago, with dreams of failure to stop the hatred, but love won't die, and truths reign above us"

[cyclonesyndicate]

resentment rides high, but emotions won't grow || Trial 3.4 || NULL || RE: Tala, Fantasia

'You don’t do that to your friends! You don’t do that to the people you’re supposed to care about!'

 Tala's right, in Null's opinion.

 Despite having few opportunities for friends in the past, Null's held the firm notion from a young age that you can only consider someone a friend with a deep level of trust and willingness to show your vulnerable side to them, when you're sure they won't hurt you or betray your confidence, that you won't have the rug pulled out from under you when you least expect it. Only then can you consider someone a friend, and only when you show them the same trust in return can you be considered theirs, too. To break that trust, to ruin that confidence, it means to revoke that friendship.

 Yet now he's found himself questioning that childish notion, wondering if he's really been so foolish.

It's painful, the tightness in his chest that threatens to shatter him, as Tala inevitably falls to the ground. It's pathetic how even now, knowing how much blood they lost, that Null still looks for the smallest shreds of hope, for the tiniest sign that life still stirs within them. That something will spring forth, proving that everything will be okay. 

But there's nothing left. The dust settles, and there is no star anymore.

There is only a black hole, devoid of light and vibrancy, and a friendship that crumbles away with it.

 Null knows what he should do now. He should input his vote for Fantasia, heed Tala's wish, and save his tears for later. He should leave his feelings out of the decision, and stick to what he's supposed to do. Vote correctly, vote for the killer, vote for Fantasia.

 But he can't.

He can't, because of what Fantasia says.  He can't, because of the secret, and the consequences it would bring. He can't, because of how similar they are after all. 

 Null understands why Fantasia had asked him those questions now.

 '...So, you feel as though your life is on a timer. You think you will be killed once their jail sentences are up. And how are you living your life as a result? Coming here to hide? Do you feel as though you are constantly looking behind you, expecting them to be there?'

  Thinking about it now, he never mentioned thinking they'd kill him out loud, but it's no wonder Fantasia picked up on that. 

They were both running for their lives after attempting to break ties, with no way to know how much time they had before fate would come knocking. But while Null had been trying to hide, to live quietly in small towns where nobody could know his history, he saw Fantasia as someone who was living to the fullest of his ability, someone who was trying to make the most of it while he could. They both came to Vortex Island as a way to extend the time they felt ticking away, the members of the Syndicate a possible safety net against what was to come. 

 Reaaaally thought it was gonna be safer taking Tempest's invite, lmao... At least here I got a shot at comin' back as a ghost, but...

Christ, he feels stupid for saying that now. But in a way, it was true-- at least the dead aren’t truly gone here. Better a ghost than nothing at all, right?

Null shouldn’t feel so torn, but he still finds himself staring at his phone, at a loss for what to do despite it all. He’s never been good at making decisions in a black and white way, and especially not here. But he should vote for Fantasia. He knows this. If he didn't let his guard down so much, it would be easy. All he has to do is steel himself for just enough time to lock it in-- he can cry about it later. Looking up, Null tries to mentally prepare an apology, a promise, something to say, to soften the blow of whatever comes next. But...

"Fantasia, I..."

Again does his heart catch in his throat, bringing all thoughts to a halt before anything more tumbles out. Did he really think he could just cut himself off from his feelings again? Of course not. How can he, when they share such similar pasts? How can he, when he's never been able to stop caring about the people he's come to know?

 “If you had the power to decide for yourself, regardless of what we picked…”

 “...Would you still want to live?”

 How can he, when he still sees Fantasia as his friend?

[vegasoffline]

Best friday the 13th film

However, there are twelve movies (including a spin-off) that fans of the franchise can enjoy while they wait here are all of the Friday the 13th movies ranked, worst to best. If there are any great movies about Friday the 13th you believe should be higher on the list, be sure to vote it up. This Friday the 13th movie list is ordered by popularity, so only the greatest movies about Friday the 13th are at the top of the list. Plus it has the best death scene of any Jason movie (sleeping bag). Here is a list of the best Friday the 13th movies ever made, ranked by movie fans just like you. But for some reason I always loved watching this one growing up. Jason that completely went off the beaten path. This film, which tried to give a satisfying conclusion to Jason's story, served as a strange set-up for Freddy vs. Related: Other Horror Franchises Should Copy Halloween 2018's ApproachĮven so, with the popularity of Friday the 13th: The Gameand him being immortalized in countless types of memorabilia, Jason Voorhees will live forever even if he never gets to slash onto the big screen again, which seems unlikely. Friday the 13th Part VII: The New Blood - I know this movie sucks, telekenesis girl vs. Jason Goes To Hell: The Final Friday (1993) Even Kane Hodder, who is arguably the best actor to play Jason Voorhees, couldn't save Jason Goes To Hell. Friday the 13th may not have gotten a new installment since 2009, but part of that is due to legal troubles that have been plaguing the franchise between Cunningham and the film's writer, Victor Miller. Director: Steve Miner Stars: Betsy Palmer, Amy Steel, John Furey, Adrienne King.

Films will be added periodically, so if there is a fan film that is not listed here currently, it will make an appearance here in the near future. Five years after the events of the first film, a summer camp next to the infamous Camp Crystal Lake is preparing to open, but the legend of Jason is weighing heavy on the proceedings. Similarly, The Texas Chainsaw Massacre has a new film in the works, and Wes Craven's estate has recently started accepting pitches for another Nightmare on Elm Street film, even though it got a remake as recently as 2010. Friday The 13th Fan Films Listed in this section are various Friday the 13th fan films that have been created and shared with the fans of the online community within the last fifteen plus years. While somewhat difficult to rank the franchise, as many of the installment share the same merits and flaws, it's certainly not impossible as there are some films that clearly rise to the top within the series and others that sink to the depths of Crystal Lake.Ĭertainly, the franchise has endured, with its popularity never wavering despite the fact that other franchises that once went toe-to-toe with it for top billing have gotten more recent updates, such as Halloween.

Cunningham's Friday the 13thfranchise is one of the most beloved horror mainstays, partially due to its iconic hockey mask clad slasher, Jason Voorhees.

[griffintail]

His Little Star

Summary: The results are in.

Pairings: Parental! Wilbur x F! Child! Reader

Previous | Next

Warnings: The Election, Blood, Angst, Lost Lives, Death

A/N: It’s canon.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

        “We’ll win daddy, I’m sure.” (Y/N) gave a bright smile as Wilbur adjusted her hat on her head.

        “I’m sure we will little star.” He smiled lightly at her. “Now, come on. Everyone will be waiting for us.”

        He took her hand and the two of them walked together, to go beyond their inner walls to get to the podium where the results would be read by himself. (Y/N) had confidence and so did he. This was his nation, his people! He started this safe haven for them and he would keep it that way by keeping the power to protect them.

        People had gathered around already, sitting in their seats to hear the election results.

        Today was the day.

        “There you are,” Tommy said, sweating slightly.

        “Calm now my Vice President.” Wilbur smiled. “Have some confidence in us alright?”

        Tommy nodded, wringing his hat slightly before straightening it out and putting it on his head, giving Wilbur a salute. “Yes sir.”

        “There he is.” Wilbur gripped his shoulder. “I need to read out the results, I need you to have a hand on (Y/N) for me.”

        “Yeah, alright. Come on dork.” Tommy said.

        “Tommy,” Wilbur warned.

        “Sorry!” Tommy raised one hand as his other took her free hand.

        “I won’t be far little star.” Wilbur smiled before the trio went onto the stage.

        Cheers and claps sounded. Wilbur acknowledged them as Tubbo gave him the election results envelope before scurrying down into the audience. He already knew about Schlatt and Quackity’s new partnership but he knew he could do this.

        “Hello, gentlemen.” Wilbur nodded his head to them, George standing next to Quackity’s side and Schlatt standing with his arms crossed. “And my son.”

        Fundy had joined extremely late into the campaigning and when Wilbur found out, he was proud of his son for standing up for himself but it broke his heart at the same time. It had also broken (Y/N)’s heart as well when he had to tell her why Fundy wouldn’t be around for a little while. She had given a small tantrum, a rare sight, as she didn’t understand why her brother wouldn’t stand with him and her.

        “Wilbur,” Schlatt smirked.

        “You seem rather well today,” Wilbur commented.

        “I’m here to win, need to look my best.” The goat man shrugged, looking over at the little girl holding onto Tommy’s hand. “Brought the little brat along?”

        Wilbur straightened up taller as he took note that his son did as well. “I would kindly ask you not to call my daughter such names.”

        Schlatt snorted as he made eye contact with the little girl. “Hey, brat, ready to watch your dad lose?”

        Wilbur was surprised as (Y/N) stood tall herself, a frown on her face. “Daddy is president, he’ll win. Pog 2020!”

        Wilbur grinned; that was his little star.

        “You heard my little star. Now, gentlemen, to your places. It’s time to announce the results.”

        Everyone went to their spots as Tommy whispered to (Y/N), “Next time we’ll teach you to swear at him.”

        Wilbur rolled his eyes, still smiling at Tommy’s antics. Then he looked at the crowd, taking a deep breath before starting.

        “My fellow L’Manbergians. Thank you for coming here today to watch a historic moment! The passing over of the presidency for the first election of L’Manberg. I have with me the election results of the four parties: Swag 2020, Pog 2020, Coconut 2020, and Schlatt 2020. Now the turn out of this election was astounding.” Wilbur nodded. “Without further ado, I want to go through the election results.”

        Opening the envelope, Wilbur looked at the votes, and…they won! They had the most votes! But…wait…his math had to be wrong…That can’t be right…

        Gripping the paper, he glanced at his little star, bouncing slightly on the balls of her feet, Tommy trying to get her to stop.

        Their L’Manberg…

        Steeling himself, he spoke.

        “With nine percent of the vote, in fourth place is Coconut 2020,” Wilbur announced, Fundy clapping for himself with a few polite claps. “With thirteen percent of the vote, coming in third place is Schlatt 2020.”

        There were more polite claps from the crowd as a few were shocked after the upbringing he had brought halfway into the campaigning.

        “Now, that just leaves two parties left. That leaves the two major front runners as the final options.” Wilbur’s heart pounded as he stared at the numbers for a moment before looking at the crowd. “In second place thirty percent of the popular vote, led by the party leader Quackity, Swag 2020.”

        (Y/N) immediately started clapping and jumping as Tommy lifted her up himself and cheered.

        “Meaning that the winner of the first popular vote by forty-five percent is Pog 2020.” Wilbur’s voice went quieter hearing the people cheer with his daughter and brother.

        This was their L’Manberg but…

        “Listen! Listen, listen.” Wilbur called for silence and Tommy stopped, looking at Wilbur with a grin, (Y/N) trying her best to contain her excitement but failing. “Please stop celebrating.” He put the paper down as he looked at Tommy and (Y/N). “Two nights ago, on the night of the election.”

        Taking a deep breath, he told everyone as he still addressed the two, Tommy’s grin falling.

        “Quackity made a deal with the leader of Schlatt 2020. Mr. Jschlatt. Quackity said, no matter what happens, Quackity would pool Swag 2020 votes on with Schlatt 2020 votes.” He turned to the people. “Pog 2020 got forty-five percent of the popular vote. Meaning that the coalition government of Schlatt and Swag 2020 got forty-six percent of the votes! Meaning that tonight, ladies and gentlemen on Tuesday the twenty-second of September 2020, Schlatt 2020 has been inaugurated.”

        “What does that mean?” (Y/N) whispered to Tommy, whimpering quietly at all the loud shouting as Tommy froze in shock.

        Wilbur took off his hat and cleared his throat, being as polite as possible as he offered the stage to Schlatt before taking Tommy’s shoulder.

        “Come on Tommy, we’re citizens tonight,” Wilbur muttered.

        “No.” (Y/N) had tears in her eyes and Wilbur gave her a sad smile.

        He took her out of Tommy’s hold and held her instead, wiping her tears.

        “It’s ok little star. It’s still our L’Manberg. Alright?” He kissed her forehead, giving her a seat before sitting next to her. “Things just…might be a little different.”

        He took her hand gently and instead she hugged his arm as Tommy sat next to him as well still in a state of shock. One percent…

        Schlatt tapped on the mic, grinning wickedly. “Well…that was pretty easy.” He held his arms out.

        (Y/N) gripped onto his arm tighter as she watched the man with wicked horns. Wilbur removed her hat and gently ran a hand through her hair. They were both devastated with the results, they had both been so confident…

        They still had their home but Wilbur couldn’t protect it right anymore! His little star…

        “You know what I said, the day I started my campaign. I said things are gonna change. I looked every citizen of L’Manberg in the eyes and I said you listen to me; this place will be a lot different tomorrow.” He smirked. “Let’s start making it happen.”

        “Wilbur.” Tommy finally spoke. “Are you sure?”

        Schlatt looked Wilbur in the eye and he tensed. He didn’t like that look.

        “My first decree, as the president of L’Manberg. The emperor! Of this great country! Is to revoke! The citizenship of Wilbur Soot and Tommy Innit!”

        Wilbur stood; his entire body on edge. An entire body of people…

        Some were shouting protests, several were pulling…weapons…

        His instincts from the war came back as he glanced at his little girl next to him, who was frozen in fear. They needed to go now.

        “Tommy. Tommy run!” Wilbur shouted before scooping up (Y/N).

        (Y/N) screamed at the sudden action as Wilbur sprinted, clutching onto her. People shouted as he glanced back, hearing Schlatt demand for their lives.

        “Hold on (Y/N)!” Wilbur commanded as he made for the inner walls.

        “Daddy?!” She asked panicked as she clutched onto his uniform.

        “Come on, come on.” Wilbur hissed to himself as he could hear Tommy behind him telling him to go faster.

        Wilbur let out a relieved laugh as he pulled out an invisibility potion.

        “Drink a few sips,” Wilbur told (Y/N), uncorking the bottle with his teeth before handing it to her.

         She nervously took it and drank a few sips before Wilbur quickly shot back the rest. It worked quickly and they were gone from everyone’s view as he saw Tommy running by and quickly diving into the walls. He had a speed potion.

        Wilbur looked behind him, paling at the crossbows firing his way. Arrows flew by, one catching him in the shoulder

        “Shit!”

        He stumbled as he turned before dashing to the bunker, Tommy waiting by the entrance in panic as (Y/N) was giving whimpers. He turned slightly towards the crowd as he got to the bunker entrance. Several more arrows came and (Y/N) screamed as he shouted at Tommy to go. The pair dove through the suspended water and came out the other side. (Y/N) coughed and sobbed as the both of them were still invisible and now soaking.

        “It’s ok little star. We’ll make it out.” Wilbur muttered to her as he took in his surroundings.

        “Where do we go?” Tommy looked around in panic.

        “We got to get far away, grab as much as you can and we run,” Wilbur commanded, sprinting down the stairs.

        He grabbed a few useful potions and supplies when he started to reappear again with (Y/N).

        “Ok, let’s—”

        “Wilbur!” Tommy dropped a bow he had picked up.

        “What?” Wilbur looked around on instinct.

        “(Y/N)’s hurt!”

        Wilbur’s world slowed as he looked down. His hand was wet but when he moved it away…it was wet with blood…

        She had been shot…with a crossbow bolt…and she had stopped crying…

        “No. No, no, no, no. No! NO!” Wilbur shouted as he quickly got to the floor and put her down to look her over.

        Her eyes were closed and her breathing extremely shallow. Her uniform was covered in blood spreading from where the bolt struck.

        “Little star. Please you got to wake up.” Wilbur pleaded as he pulled out one of the healing potions from his bag. “Wake up for me, my little star.”

        He looked at his blood-covered hands and had to keep himself from puking as he handed the potion to Tommy, who had gotten on the ground beside them.

        “Pour this on the second I pull the bolt out,” Wilbur told him.

        “This is healing, it’s not regen Wilbur, the wound—” Tommy sputtered.

        “It will slow down the bleeding significantly until I can properly bandage her now do as I say, Tommy!” Wilbur shouted.

        Tommy nodded with shaky breaths. Wilbur held his breath as he took the end of the bolt, counting out loud before pulling it out. (Y/N)’s body didn’t even give a reaction. Tommy poured the healing potion on the wound as they both looked up hearing voices above.

        “Shit.” Wilbur frantically looked around.

        He shrugged off his jacket to stem some more of the bleeding when Tommy gave a choked sound. Looking back…his little star had stopped breathing…

        “No…please god no. Little star.” Wilbur pleaded.

        The voices were getting louder as Tommy stood up, shaking. Tommy had one life left and people were coming to kill them too.

        Wilbur let out a sob as he knew, this was a lost life for his little girl. His little star…that he promised to always protect…

        “Wilbur,” Tommy mumbled.

        “I’m so sorry little star.” He whispered, tears blurring his vision, before standing up, covered in more blood than he realized. “We need to get to my home, then we run as far as we can from L’Manberg. Understood?”

        Tommy nodded, trying to remember how to breathe. Wilbur and took out new invisibility potions.

        “Bottoms up,” Wilbur muttered before they both threw back the potions and kept the bottles.

        They snuck their way out and carefully went through the land to Wilbur’s home. Wilbur practically dashed in.

        “(Y/N)!” Wilbur shouted as he rushed for her room, shedding his bloody uniform coat and leaving it.

        “D-Daddy!”

        Wilbur stumbled as he caught the door frame and found (Y/N) sobbing as she hugged the bee plush Tubbo had given her along with the fox one Niki had given her.

        “Daddy’s here,” Wilbur whispered, pulling her into him. “I know. I’m back. Come on, we need to go little star.”

        He picked her up, letting her clutch onto him as he grabbed a few of his own supplies, having her drink again before he and Tommy sprinted out of L’Manberg territory.

        They shot his fucking child.

        They ran them out of their own country.

        Out of their home!

        He squeezed the little girl tightly as they reappeared, Tommy, checking their retreat.

        This was going to take a lot more than what he could do. He’d need some help…

        For now.

        “I’m here little star.” Wilbur shushed her gently, kissing the top of her head. “I’m so sorry my little darling. I’ll fix it. I promise I’ll fix all of this.”

        For now, they needed shelter so he could care for his daughter that had lost a life…

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[inhuman-obey-me]

God-Fearing Faith

Can also be read on AO3 here

Word Count: 5.7k

Description: In the Great Celestial War, torn between Lucifer and his Father, Simeon chose not to fight. That comes with its own consequences. There's a reason Simeon's greatest fear is his own Father.

[cw: body horror, abusive parent, PTSD]

This was, of course, always going to have been the outcome.

He had made his choice. As soon as he heard that Lucifer was planning on rebelling, he had made his choice. It was not an easy choice, or a simple one, but it was his choice nonetheless.

Alas, they say that neutrality is the side of the oppressor, but a tyrant never sees it that way.

"You did this to yourself," Michael reminds him disapprovingly.

Simeon stands at the center of the Council of Seraphs, awaiting a judgment that was already preordained before he ever stepped in the room. They will convict him, because there is no other option - their Father has demanded it. The trial is merely a formality.

He did not plead his case. There is no point in trying, after all. Father will not listen, and the other seraphs will never listen to another angel over God. Lucifer had just proven that, hadn't he? And maybe he had chosen wrong - maybe, all in all, he should have chosen Lucifer's side. Because it wasn't as though he hadn't been asked, and oh, how Simeon had longed to stay with his fellow seraph, his closest friend who was like a brother to him.

But between a brother and a father, he chose neither, praying quietly that it could end in peace.

Yet, who do you pray to for peace when God himself is party to war? What higher power could he have appealed to when the highest power in existence was one of the ones at fault?

Though he cannot bring himself to regret his decision, he feels the slightest twinge of regret for not supporting Lucifer more. At least, if Lucifer had won, he wouldn't have ended up here now, standing trial for not being loyal enough to their Father.

Simeon stares Michael in the face, and reminds him that he too loved and adored Lucifer not too long ago. That he still does, no matter how he votes in this trial. That, after everything, Lucifer is still precious to all of them. He knows it, and so does Simeon, and so do all the seraphs in this room. All of them still deeply love Lucifer. Even now. No matter what they say.

Michael's expression twists with anger. How dare Simeon say such things in front of their Father.

With a vengeful sneer, he reads the judgement firmly, steadily - "With unanimous votes from the Council of Seraphs, we do hereby declare you, Simeon, angel of devotion, guilty of desertion and treason. For your crimes, you are hereby sentenced to demotion - from Seraph, to Cherub, to Throne, to Dominion, to Virtue, to Power, to Principality, and finally, to Archangel. The ceremony shall be performed two moons from today, in this room, at the highest point of the sun. You may not appeal this decision. You are dismissed."

And so it has to be. This has always been, after all, the only possible ending.

--

Well before the ritual has even begun, Simeon feels himself burning. He repeats a prayer, day after day, for two long months - praising the glory of God, worshipping his light, acknowledging his greatness.

Begging for peace and mercy, again. Because that worked so well before, right?

But there is nothing else he can do when the burning begins. So he prays.

“Master, now dismiss your servant in peace, according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation and for glory.”

--

When the day arrives, the chill of the chamber feels like the coldest he's ever been. It isn't, not really, but after two months of flickering heat burning on and off within him, it's strange to be left cold this way. But he relishes the cool air while he can, because he knows what's coming.

Uriel gives him an almost pitying look as he wraps the chains around his disgraced colleague. For a split second, it almost looks like he wants to say something - but the look is gone as quickly as it came, and he retreats quickly back to his place in the circle. And Simeon is left alone in the center, wrists and torso bound in ropes of thick gold chains.

He looks defiantly at his Father, positioned directly before him in the circle. No matter how he thought it over in these past months, still he did not regret his decision. So he would stand by it. The punishment is coming either way, so he might as well be proud of the choice he made.

His Father glares back.

You will regret defying me, his voice echoes in Simeon's mind.

With a wave of his hand, the ceremony begins.

The seraphs kneel, pouring holy water into an intricate pattern engraved in the ground, which glows with magic as the liquid flows down to the center of the circle. It feels cool against Simeon's bare feet, for the moment at least.

Michael steps forward to recite the prayer chant:

"Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty, for you created all things, and by your will, they do exist. Purify this one from all unrighteousness."

The seraphs clasp their hands together in a circle, locking the magic into the ceremonial space, and repeat the chant back.

At once, his Father's heavenly fire strikes him, a pillar of light beaming down upon him and spreading through his body. All six wings of fire burst from his back against his will, stretching out their full length as if to try to escape from the blast. He feels his form contort; his brown hair shifts to a snakeskin halo of spikes; his face melts away to reveal the twisting golden rings of his true angelic form. It travels down to his feet, absorbed by the holy water, which burns at his soles as though he is standing on coals. The gold chains, too, absorb the searing heat of the fire, and as he strains against his bindings in pain, it only serves to etch the curves of the chains into his body.

His eyes, normally covered modestly by his wings, ignite with the fire as it spills through him, but still, his Father maintains his cruel gaze, and even without eyes, it is all Simeon sees.

The heavenly fire has engulfed his entire form now, and he gasps at the sudden weight as his wings turn to molten rock. They rip themselves from his back, crashing behind him with a reverberating thud against the marble floor, and his shoulder blades expand behind him, tearing themselves out of his back to create four new wings of feathers and steel. Under the chains, his arms become metallic themselves, as do his chest and neck. He tries to scream, but there is only fire in his lungs, and it travels through his throat, tearing through every part of his head. When he feels a mouth to close again, it is not one mouth, but four - the four faces of the cherubim.

After what feels like hours but was surely only a few minutes, the fire drains into the holy water beneath him. He gasps, finally able to breathe, as his many faces and wings draw themselves back into his body. Everything in him aches at the transformation.

His Father's cold eyes are still locked with his.

The seraphs pour fresh holy water to the ground and begin the chant again:

"Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty, for you created all things, and by your will, they do exist. Purify this one from all unrighteousness."

It hurts no less the second time - the fire smiting him down, drawing back out the form that had just folded itself into him. His face tears into four; his wings again force their way from his back. His legs buckle beneath him, forcing him to the ground before burning away entirely. The metal of his hands breaks apart into floating shards, and thin wheels of gold extricate themselves from the gold plates of his waist. His vision blurs as hundreds of new eyes burst open upon the wheels, every single one trained on his Father's own unforgiving gaze as he watches the angel morph again. He feels the melting of the metal in his new wings, and feels with anguish the searing of the metal against the feathers of the same, as both shift shape to rounder wings that wrap the fire all around him.

Vaguely, Simeon can hear the echoing roar of his own lion's face as it is engulfed by the flames, followed by the eagle's caw, and the human scream. The ox face left behind stretches into a sphere of hollow rings of gold, and yet more eyes merge their way into his vision.

And then, in a flash, cold hits his skin, the fire retreating into the holy water as suddenly as it had come, pulling all his ophanic features back into his human-like form.

His father's contemptuous stare continues to bore into him.

Are you still so defiant now?

Is he? With the dizzying slew of transformations, Simeon can hardly think straight to even consider the question. His mind is still catching up to the vision of one thousand eyes bursting into existence across his body. His head is throbbing, and trying to cradle it in his hands only leads to the still-hot metal chains searing marks into his wrists.

What he does know for certain, however, is that his Father is far from done. Seraph, to Cherub, to Throne, to Dominion, to Virtue, to Power, to Principality, to Archangel. Step by step, stage by stage, the demotion ceremony would continue. There is still a long, long way to go.

As if reading his mind - and knowing his Father, he probably is - the ritual begins again.

Holy water. Hands clasping. The same prayer, again.

"Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty, for you created all things, and by your will, they do exist. Purify this one from all unrighteousness."

The third time, he releases himself easily to the fire, giving in to it at once as it draws out his chariot-like Throne form, but it doesn't burn any less all the same. Wheels, rings, eyes - all dissolving to the flames, blasting apart and falling from his form.

For a moment, fire is all he is - no body, no mind, only soul and blazing heat. And then the pyre takes shape - brilliantly burning stars for arms, a halo of embers, sparks shifting constantly in his belly. His hands twist long and thin - one into a sword, the other to a sceptre, planetary orbs swirling into existence at opposite ends of each. A mass of dark matter settles as his face, and tiny galaxies piece themselves together beneath him for legs.

Simeon grasps helplessly at balance, trying to stabilize a form made of formlessness. He can feel himself spilling out of himself and coming back together, pulsing without edges, and all the while still - burning, burning, burning. Wet tears form but are immediately lost in the void of his shapelessness.

When he is abruptly returned again to human form, he is thankful just to feel himself contained within a definite body again, grateful to feel the warm wet streaks as the tears welling at the edges of his eyes roll down solid cheeks.

Yet, again, still trapped with the other definite - the harsh stare of his Father.

Any strength left in his legs leaves him, and he collapses to the ground, ignoring the pain as his wrists pull against the hot gold of the chains yet again. On his chest, too, the metal constricts against him as he frantically gasps for air.

It's almost a surprise to him that they give him this moment to recover - though, having been a seraph himself as recently as an hour ago, he knows it's purely out of strict adherence to the rules of the ritual, not out of any kind of sympathy for him.

When he pulls himself together enough to stand again, Michael motions to Uriel. Three levels down, which means he has fallen to the Middle Order already. Time to adjust the bindings accordingly.

"I'm sorry," Uriel whispers quietly to him, maintaining expressionlessness as he wraps new, thinner chains around him, reaching further along his arms and chest than before.

Bitterly,Simeon thinks to himself that there is no apologizing for this - it was voted upon, and it was unanimous. But he knows, too, that the other seraphs had no choice either. Their Father had demanded this verdict, and none of them could ignore a direct order from him.

Doing so was, after all, precisely why Simeon himself was in this situation now.

So without breaking eye contact with their Father, he responds simply, "Don't be. Or you'll be next."

His former peer completes the rest of his work in silence, and as soon as he resumes his place in the circle, the ritual begins again.

"Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty, for you created all things, and by your will, they do exist. Purify this one from all unrighteousness."

Going from Dominion to Virtue is an almost welcome reprieve, relative to the earlier transformations. Fire strikes him down again, but Simeon braces himself this time for the feeling of nothingness as the edges of himself fall away, galaxies and empty space bursting from inside him. A million stars explode into existence along his body, then explode again out of it, the black holes left behind dancing with the heavenly flames coursing through him.

Gradually, the fire slows and hardens. The light of embers flickers through cracks in molten rock left behind along his core. His wrists, too, tremble with new mass as crags form beneath the chains, connected to his shoulders only by stormy flashes of lightning. Dark clouds fill his form like billowing smoke, and he almost feels like he will choke on his own existence. Blinding rings of light wrap themselves along his limbs like snakes. He is at once heavy and weightless, dark and light, chained and unmoored.

In this confusing contradiction of his newest form of existence, Simeon is almost glad for the holy fire and icy glare of his Father. He clings to them as his anchor, however painful of one to hold onto, lest his mind drift too far away and leave him entirely. Or is it better to lose himself by letting go, than to focus on the pain? He isn't sure, but he's not certain that he will come back to himself if he doesn't hold on. So he clings to the thread of stability he has, embracing the burning as best he can.

It makes it all the more jarring when the heavenly flames abruptly retreat again, leaving him solid and cold, everything around him a blur except his Father. The sudden chill sends an involuntary shiver through him, echoed by rattling chains reverberating through the chamber.

He shuts his eyes, tries to reorient himself. Deep breaths. Halfway through now. Just three more, and it will be done. His fall from grace will be complete, and he'll be free. Or at least, as free as the angels ever are, given their roles as God's warriors and messengers. But he'll be out of this ceremony, freed of these chains. And...then what? A low-level grunt worker, to be bossed around by all his former equals in this room?

Maybe that's a good thing. At least, that's what he tries to tell himself. True, a demotion is a demotion, and he'll have less power available to him, less respect from the other angels. Less freedom to do as he pleases. But in truth, can he say he's ever had that much freedom? Isn't that why he's here now? Because he never really had that freedom in the first place - just the space to do the things his Father approved of, which had just happened to be the same things he'd wanted to do, until now. And at least, once his full demotion is complete, perhaps the freedom he loses in the work he does will be a worthwhile exchange for being freed of the pressures of being a seraph, from being always close to their Father and his strict command.

That's what he thinks, at least, until he opens his eyes again and sees his Father still staring down at him.

There is no escape from me, his Father's voice taunts in response, and Simeon isn't quite sure whether the voice in his head is actually sent by his Father or just created from his own fear.

Regardless, another half of the ceremony is still to come, and so it must continue.

"Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty, for you created all things, and by your will, they do exist. Purify this one from all unrighteousness."

Heavenly fire comes down, and his insides ignite once more. His legs stretch and split apart into glowing rings; his arms turn stormy again. His chest hardens back to molten rock, tightening against his attempts to breathe before breaking apart, leaving trails of flame and lava dripping down through the rings of light below. The dark clouds throughout his form catch fire as well and burn away to steam and smoke.

His shape changes less drastically now as his rank falls lower and lower, yet the heavenly fire lingers longer this time. The transformation aches through him, new pieces stretching and pulling themselves into place.

Slowly, thin metal plates emerge through the fire and settle as his new face, locking his expression to neutrality - as if mocking the neutrality he'd tried to take in the war. More sheets of steel fold themselves together into layers of a round shield for a torso. A ring of eyes opens along the outer border of the shield, confusing his vision again, along with six larger eyes in a circular pattern around the center. It takes his mind a moment to catch up to processing all of them, trying to orient to so many new perspectives all turned to different directions. Thorns prick all over as two long rose stems grow from his chest, wrapping themselves around his neck, and another eye opens at the center of each flower. Sharp golden wings extricate themselves from his back, and a harsh golden halo slices in an arc behind his head.

Simeon clenches his fists as the flames travel through him, clinging to his insides and pulling his new form gradually, painfully back in. Unlike the previous times, it holds onto him on its way down to the holy water this time. He feels every inch of his wings scraping against his returning flesh as they drag themselves back inside his body, as with the rest of the form.

It's strange - angel transformations are usually instant. They aren't meant to be this slow.

That's when it sinks in that this isn't just rote punishment for law's sake - it is spite. He lifts his gaze again to see that his Father's cold expression has not changed at all, but there is wrath in those eyes. He can feel fury emanating from the light that always surrounds him.

Simeon has never heard of their Father drawing out a punishment for vengeance's sake before. This ceremony, the entire demotion process, was always just a ritual that was part of a judgment given for the sake of upholding a realm of law and obedience. But then, their Father had also never personally weighed in on a trial to tell the seraphs what way to vote until this, either. And there is no mistaking the anger coming from him now.

All for choosing neutrality...?

No, that's not it. It's not for choosing neutrality; it's for not choosing against Lucifer. The realization dawns on him - this isn't about him, never was about him or his refusal to fight. It is about Lucifer. It is about their Father's most beloved angel until the war, rebelling against him. It is about the fact that the war that ensued was the first time any of the angels had ever really questioned their Father's rule. It is about reminding everyone in this room of his power as the unmistakable, undeniable ruler of the Celestial Realm.

This is not about punishing Simeon. It is about punishing Lucifer.

And for the first time since his trial began, Simeon is truly, deeply afraid. He had known that the punishment for his refusal to fight would be intense and painful, but he had prepared himself for that when he made his decision in the first place. But to be a proxy for punishment against Lucifer for rebelling, now that the Morning Star himself was out of reach, fallen to the Devildom?

But the realization has come far too late, and there are two more rounds of this still to go.

New holy water flows down to his feet, and the seraphs begin the chant again.

"Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty, for you created all things, and by your will, they do exist. Purify this one from all unrighteousness."

The heavenly fire burns hotter this time than any of the ones before, and in the fog of pain, the knowledge that the last one will only be worse briefly flits across his mind. But his thoughts are quickly pulled away by what is now a slow, excruciating transformation back into the form that had just left him moments ago.

His wings cut their way out of his back again like jagged knives, hot from the blazing heat pushing them from his body. They quickly melt away as they exit him, dripping molten streaks of metal down his back, as do the sheets of steel making up his shield-like frame. The liquid metal snakes its way down him, hardening back into rough shards cutting against his feet as they reach the holy water below. His neck feels choked with prickling flames as the blaze travels up the thorny stems of the roses growing from his chest, framing his face with fire.

The chains binding him stretch and grow, twisting themselves up his arms and wrapping his torso in a constricting suit of armor that feels more like it's meant to squeeze the life out of him than protect him. Each ring burns itself against his newly reforming skin beneath, merging into his flesh - it is not actually armor, after all, but a part of his own body. The metal continues threading its way up him, wrapping his neck, his face, his hair, until it grows past him into a twisting, tulip-shaped crown atop his head. From the flames at his core, jewels start pushing their way out of him, each one piercing him on its way out, and they spin together into a blinding orb in front of him. From his fingertips, thin needles of yet more metal prick as they join the gems, sending a reverberation of eerie music through the hall as they merge to form a long, thin scepter.

Simeon can feel his mouth being pried open by the flames, or perhaps it is being burned away entirely - in the shifting uncertainty of transformation, he's not quite sure which. Against his will, his voice joins the echoing notes of the scepter, until the sounds accumulate and stretch into haunting shriek.

And then, all at once, the flames leave him, the form of Principality leaves him, the scepter and the armor and everything leave him - and he is left standing, alone, silent, cold, enchained, mouth still agape with the memory of the sounds that had just moments before been wrenched from his throat.

He gasps for air, shuts his eyes as he readjust his vision from the now-gone blinding light of the jeweled scepter. Phantom pinpricks still tingle at his stomach, and for a moment, he almost thinks he's going to vomit. Still, he hangs on to the barest shred of dignity and composure until the feeling passes, and waits for the pain of everything to subside.

When he opens his eyes again, he meets the gaze of his Father in almost a plea. Stop this. Please. I am not Lucifer. Lucifer is gone.

But if his Father can hear the begging of his thoughts, as he seemed to hear him earlier, he doesn't show it. He doesn't respond at all, merely staring Simeon down with the same ice cold stare he's held this entire time. And the ceremony continues.

Michael waves to Uriel, who steps forth to replace the chains again. Simeon is down to the Lower Order now, the last and lowest ranks of angels. Redundant as it feels to replace his bindings, given all the transformations that have already happened, the ritual demands it.

Uriel doesn't meet his eyes this time - despite his remorse, he keeps in mind Simeon's earlier words of warning. But he can't quite bring himself to do this with pride, either. Just earlier that day, they had still been colleagues and equals. It's a cold reminder that no matter how strict or obedient any of them are, their Father is the ultimate in charge, and they are all only one displeasure away from the same fate. Likewise, Simeon avoids eye contact, neither ashamed nor proud of his current state.

The chains are even more slender now, almost elegant in the way they snake around his wrists. As a seraph, he could have broken these new chains easily, but now as a principality, they're more than enough to hold him. Deep inside, he can still feel the great well of power within him, but as if a glass cloche sits in the way, he knows instinctively that he can't summon any of that strength anymore. He will never be able to again.

Somewhere, just as deep inside, he starts to question whether he even wants to - to access the strength given him by the one now putting him through all of this.

He pushes the feeling far away though. He should be grateful that, following the war, he wasn't equally cast out of the Celestial Realm, shouldn't he? Those who had fallen, they were informed, had met a far worse fate. Lucifer and his brothers flit across his mind; though he wasn't close with all of them, he wonders if they are okay. Lucifer, at least, proud and full of conviction, surely must have made it out with his head held high as ever, right? What fate had befallen him worse than this, that Simeon was experiencing now...?

When Uriel finishes and retreats back to his place, Simeon hangs his head down, giving up on his silent begging to his Father. It's clear at this point that there is no mercy coming. Their father does not forgive; he condemns.

Until the war, Simeon had really believed that his condemnations were right and just.

But are they, after all? Can he truly believe it anymore? He had understood Lucifer well enough, but...he had really believed that trusting their Father was the right way to go. That Lucifer's rebellion was wrong. That their Father was, always, in all cases, correct, and that there was a reason for everything he did.

The cool brush of holy water at his feet pulls him back from his dark thoughts.

"Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord God Almighty, for you created all things, and by your will, they do exist. Purify this one from all unrighteousness."

Even the heavenly fire seems to come slower, now on this final time. His Father's eyes, though still coldly distant and unreadable, almost seem to shine with the voraciousness of his vengeance.

The flames lick at his face like hounds hungry for a meal.

In the pain, time seems to slow to a stop.

And then it does. It stops. Everything stops. He doesn't feel the chain metal armor searing itself back into his skin, or the gems pulling themselves through his body. Everything falls away; all becomes just a bright, white brilliance. Simeon feels weightless.

Is this it? Has his Father abandoned the ceremony after all? Is this...

No, a booming inner voice answers him. You won't die. That's too soft for an angel like you.

"Father?" he calls back silently. His eyes would have widened, if he'd had feeling left of them to widen. So it was true, his Father could hear every one of his thoughts.

And yet, he had ignored Simeon's begging for this to stop.

I told you that you would regret defying me.

"Father, I-I'm sorry. I thought - Lucifer is so precious to us. He was acting on what he believed in. I know that he was wrong, but -"

Yes, he was. And you, Simeon. You are an angel, one of my children, my creations. And yet you dared defy me. Pathetic.

He almost wishes he could summon the courage to defy his Father again, but he is too exhausted from round after round of transformation. Instead, he feels only sorrow. For Lucifer. For the other angels that fell. For himself.

You still don't understand your lesson? Troublesome child, Lucifer wouldn't listen either. I've removed him. Miserable wretch as you are, you will learn. You ought to be more grateful I chose not to eject you too.

Darkness floods his blinded vision, and Simeon sees himself in his mind's eye. His reflection smiles sweetly at him, before its eyes widen. Its mouth twists into a scream, expression more pained even than the shrieks pulled from him in his last transformation, but rather than sound coming out, shadows spill inwards, consuming him.

As if in answer, Simeon's own soul suddenly twists equally in pain, choking on a flood of umbra enveloping him from inside, until he's unsure if the image before him is a reflection or just him seeing himself from the outside. The dusty taste of ash and soot covers his tongue, as a fire unlike the clean holy flames chokes him from within - the smoke of hellfire.

Feathers, light and dark both, explode in bursts through his body. Flurries of new wings extrude themselves from his back, pulling patchwork marble patterns in jagged edges, fighting with each other for dominance as they clash in their growth. He feels his face split into two, one side drawing the hoop of a thin metal crown behind him, while a thin horn twists out from the other and loops back over to pierce his cheek. Scattered across his hands, fingers stretch into sharp, wicked claws, while his palms turn to pure light.

Though this twisted form is removed from his actual, physical body, the heavenly fire burns harshly against him still, and harsher yet upon his new demon-like features, incinerating them away almost as quickly as they emerge from his body. His angelic elements fare hardly better, as the hellfire within him eats away at them.

And all the while, his Father's voice hums tauntingly in his mind.

Feeble excuse for an angel, you are blessed to still hold my power. Do not forget who made you. I created you, gifted you with my divine power, and I can wipe you from this existence. And it will make not a shred of difference, for I shall make another, one more obedient, who understands his place...unless, my child, you submit now. Surrender yourself back to my command, and I shan't destroy you completely. Or this will be the last of your miserable, wretched life.

Amidst the pain, the infinity of nonexistence blankets despair upon his mind in threat, an incomprehensible emptiness.

It's too much. He is not able - was not created to be able - to endure all of this agony. An infinite void, heavenly smiting, darkness corrupting, all at once - his whole soul feels on the verge of collapse.

"I swear, Father!" Simeon cries. "Please, anything! Anything you ask, I'll obey! Forgive me, please...!"

It feels like another eternity before his Father murmurs his satisfaction, letting the frozen moment fall away back to the reality of the seraph council's chamber.

The rest of the transformation ritual proceeds as before, though after the jumbled, aching blending of transforming into both angel and demon at once, turning to an Archangel feels as though it passes quickly by comparison. When the last of the fire extinguishes upon the holy water at his feet, and the chains release themselves to mark the end of the ceremony, he collapses to the ground, succumbing at last to the blissful release of unconsciousness.

--

For a long time after his demotion ceremony, Simeon cannot sleep through the night. He wakes at random times, gasping for air, from dreams of being on fire again. A few times, when he wakes, he finds his wings actually alight, as though they remember their seraph form when they used to be made of flame, and he screams at the half-asleep memory of how those wings turned to rock and tore themselves from his body. Other times, he is wrought from his rest by a phantom feeling of ash in his throat, choking on the taste of hellfire.

He wonders if these dreams are being sent to him by his Father, or by his own mind.

Which would be worse?

Night after night, he prays desperately for release, exhausted.

“Master, now dismiss your servant in peace, according to your word; for my eyes have seen your salvation, which you have prepared in the presence of all peoples, a light for revelation and for glory.”

He never receives any answer.

It is years before he makes it through a night without waking, and many years more before he manages a peaceful, dreamless night. It is centuries more before those nights outnumber the dreams of flames.

All the while, he hears the whispers and snickering of older angels as he passes through the Celestial Realm halls now, particularly from Middle Order angels smugly delighting in now outranking a former seraph. Gossip of his restless nights spreads between them, rumors flying around of the demonic screams that come from his room when all should be asleep.

Some of them wonder if perhaps he's not an angel at all anymore. Others sneer that maybe he shouldn't be.

Maybe they're right. Maybe he shouldn't be.

He doesn't enter his angel form very often anymore. He still remembers the feeling of corrupting, of horn instead of halo.

Maybe he's not fit to be an angel.

He prays again.

[sanktere]

Olympian Aesthetic Headcanons

Bold where applicable, italicize where situationally relevant

APHRODITE. (2.5) laughter-loving, sweet smiles, dressed in silk and satin, flower in their hair, thrives on attention, sees the world as a runway, unapologetically sexual, the sea washing their ankles, in love with love, stirrer of passion, cunning concealed by painted lips, secret daggers, doves, revolution in their kiss, delighting in the waves, flirtatious winks, strolling along the beach, staring wistfully from a balcony, this is how to be a heartbreaker, your girlfriend thinks they’re attractive, wants to be adored, turned on by danger.

APOLLO. (4) glitz and glamour, art galleries, turning the volume up, being made of gold, neatly-organized music sheets, notebooks filled with poetry, bathing in the sunlight, the powerful urge to create, collecting vinyl records, beautiful cover of wonderwall, playing multiple instruments, tasting like sunshine, healing touch, speaking in prophecies, smile mingled wrath, shunning lies, sporting shades, hanging out at music festivals with their friends, sleeping naked, arrow to the heart, paint brushes.

ARES. (4.5) armed for battle, wants to raise a dog with their significant other, soft spot for children, gives piggyback rides, scarred body, blood on their hands and face, willing to fight the world for the ones they love, fights against injustice, warm hugs, well-worn combat boots, boxing gloves, bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles, fist raised in protest, ignites revolutions, fear is a prison, more sensitive than what their tough shell will make you think, exhausted, damaged goods, force to be reckoned with, red roses, curses under their breath.

ARTEMIS. (2.5) keen sense of a hunter, freckles like constellations on their skin, piercing eyes, disheveled braid, moonlight peeking through the shadows, the calm of the forest at night, lying on the grass and staring at the stars, mother doe and her fawn, protecting their kin, the moon shimmering on a still lake, quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree, running with wolves, bonding while circled around a campfire, not being much of a people person, arrow hitting a target, popping egos, patience on 3%, touches heaven and returns howling.

ATHENA. (3) discerning gaze, unreadable face, the patience of a lifelong teacher, quiet museums, owl perched on their finger, armor that intimidates, eye for architecture, studied the blade while everyone else was busy getting laid, big fan of logic, loves brain teasers, go-getter, balls of wool displayed on shelves, ancient buildings, sweaters in neutrals and cool colors, hair done up, can kill you with their brain, heads to the library often to research, sharpened pencils, abs that can cut steel, stoic statues, pottery classes.

DEMETER. (4.5) soil-covered hands, smile that can bloom flowers, skin loved by the sun, being the mom-friend, flowers kept in the pockets of overalls, takes pride in their beautiful garden, speaks to their plants (elementals), leaves rustling in the wind, stalks of wheat, picking fruit, greenhouses, heart as strong as a mountain, values simplicity, daisies dotted across a collarbone, curls crowned with flowers, folded pile of sweaters in warm hues, pulling out fresh-baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air.

DIONYSUS. (0) drunk shitposter, on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second, seductive smirks, untamed curls, rich fabrics on dark skin, sleek-furred panthers, theater masks, stage productions, receiving a standing ovation, rose caught between their teeth, being the baby of the bunch, wild parties that last from sundown to sunup, creeping vines, inspiring loyalty, grand opera houses, masquerade balls, rolls of film, shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the floor, pouring champagne into flutes, lives for the applause.

HEPHAESTUS. (0.5) the calloused hands of someone who knows labor, sweaty brow, flame burning in their eyes, inventive mind, broad shoulders, steampunk goggles, nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes, ashes, striking a match, blueprints for future projects, fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades, wrestles with bitterness, work boots have seen better years, wrinkled plaid shirts, iron melted in blazing fire, huge jackets, crafting masterpieces, greased-stained overalls, fascination with robotics, pain is fuel, stack of weaponry.

HERA. (1) resting bitch face, dressed to the nines, cows grazing on a pasture, cool rain, loving and hating fiercely, hand clutching a string of pearls, large chandelier with glittering crystals, plays the sims for the sole purpose of killing off their sims, romance to realism, pictures of the sky while flying on a plane, downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath, like their selfie or you’re grounded, knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man, dark eyes that penetrate your soul, marble and gold.

HERMES. (0) devil-may-care smile, ink-stained hands, always up-to-date on the latest technology, does it for the vine, shitposter, puts googly eyes on everything, meme hoarder, long drives on the highway, ma and pop diners, spontaneous road trips, folded maps, fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop, shooting hoops on the basketball court, chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations, goes jogging in the morning, mixes redbull with coffee, menace on april fool’s, hoodies and sneakers.

POSEIDON. (5.5) storm with skin, colorful coral reefs, waves crashing against the shore, the sea casting its spell, stroking the soft fur of a cat, their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop, tousled locks, clothes smeared with paint, owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns for more, leather jackets, fondness for diy projects, handwriting that flows across the page, nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin, velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams, mood as ever-changing as the sea, the roar of a motorcycle, compass with a spinning arrow.

ZEUS. (2) thunder in their heart, running on coffee, flash of lightning, natural charisma, eloquence, badass in a nice suit, aficionado of history, force of nature, pretends they don’t have feelings but they do, nightmare-filled nights, proud arm around their lover’s waist, high-rise buildings, planes soaring through a cloudless sky, technician on the piano, maintains order, strong handshake, juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with ease, most likely to be voted class president out of their peers, expensive watch.

[raindrop-on-a-spiderweb]

Just like back then

Richie remembered smells.

Many psychologists and psychiatrists, etcetera, bloviated about vision and taste and touch, and how it related to POST TRAUMATIC STRESS DISORDER.

That was what they called it. Not Shell Shock. Not Battle Fatigue. post traumatic stress disorder. A pussy hippie word invented by white-coated Harvard professors, who would never know what it was like to fire a shell into the skull of a man, or beat him to death with a rifle. Who would never feel the sear of honorable Agent Orange against his face.

It smelled like blood and mud and the unbearable humidity of the jungle.

***

Richie's hair brushed against his bare shoulders. He wore an olive tank top, his dog tags hanging proudly between his pectorals and glinting in the Florida sun.

A Range Rover slowed down and pulled over in the grassland up ahead. Richie approached, flipping his hair. He smelled the blacktop of the asphalt, stinging his sinuses as he appraised the vehicle.

The car had a They Can't Trick Our Dick bumper sticker. Dick's jowly face stared at him from the bumper, peeling and grinning. Mom had voted for Dick, hadn't she? She would, of course.

The man poked his head out of the cat. He was fleshy, stretched out like a bag of suet. His head was like the tip of a penis, all bald and wet in the sun.

"You need a ride, kid?"

The man's tongue went out to minutely lick his lips as he said kid. Richie stared at his owm reflection in the rearview mirror as he approached. Small faced, faggot faced. Girly. He had his mother's round face, soft and plump-cheeked. Those green eyes his father had cooed over as he cupped his son's face between his soft hands and worked his thumbs over his cheeks. 

"Sure do, cowboy. Headed to Miami." Richie bit his lip subtly as he eyed up the car driver, and within a moment he was in the passenger seat.

They rode onto the highway, and the chickenhawk looked over at him, still sweating. "What are you doing hitching this way?" He said, as foreplay. Richie smiled.

He remembered fleeing the house in Sicily. All of his brothers and sisters. He remembered his first friend that he had met on the bus over to Vietnam. He remembered his friend's guts falling out of him in the first bombardment. 

He remembered the woman. The Vietcong woman with her dark eyes. As he leveled the gun at her, all his mind screamed was that her eyes were just like his father's.

Richie tucked a lock of hair behind his ear and smiled at his driver. 

"Just got tossed around, I guess."

The flat green plains were giving way to palm trees. The skeletons of cigar factories rose above the heavy inland swamp that approached the black asphalt like the legs of a spider.

The far horizon was darkening behind the vast skyscrapers of Miami, dyeing the black steel purple and red.

The chickenhawk pulled over on a dirt road. 

"You know, kid, you owe me something too."

Richie knew what was coming, and knew with a bitter triumph how much his mother would have hated it. That spurred him to lean over the obese man and open his fly.

The trees covered them in a dark veil. Richie could see the distant glimmers of stars over the ocean as he sucked and bobbed on his erection.

The man's face was distorted and tense, his chest heaving as Richie worked between his thighs.

He didn't know when the slight man drew out a hammer from his back pocket.

***

Richard Winslow never thought of his life as blessed, although his mother did. When he won the Purple Heart, Patience put it right on their flawless, polished mantle, above the doctorates and awards of her other children. She had always seen him with a different eye. You look just like my father, Richie.

Not Riccardo, his given name. But Richie. A softly-spoken endearment from the lips of his mother.

***

Richie swung the hammer once. A crater erupted in the man's sweaty forehead.

The man barely had a chance to squeal or gasp. Richie aimed for his hippocampus, slamming the length of rusted iron between his eyes. He slammed it until his skull fractured into a thousand shards and his throat spasmed in gurgles.

He wished the chickenhawk had a bitch with him. Then he could hear her squeals while he shoved his hammer into her eye. And he could pretend that she was his own mother.

When Richie was done with him, his head looked like a soft sack of mushed tomatoes. His brains were dripping over the back of the car seat. His hands were still clenched over the leopard-print steering wheel. He was looking forward to a weekend in Miami, wasn't he? But Richie would be taking his place this time.

Richie got out and opened the driver's side door. He dragged him to the thick canal beside the road, where refuse and rainwater drained. He tossed him in. His bloated white body sunk immediately, and a dozen yellow eyes fixed on it. Dark green tails of alligators swished towards him.

Richie wiped his prints off the wooden handle and tossed it in after him. Then he shoved his hands in the pockets of his camouflage pants and headed back onto the road.

The beaches of Miami were right within his reach.

***

This is very much a remnant of a sequel I planned. 

TW and stuff, this is the 70s. I'm tired poor and busy and I don't really care anymore.

[angelguk]

→ the things i never told you — a jeongguk scenario [03]

member: jeon jeongguk

word count: 4.4k

genre: college!au + smut + fluff + slight crack + best friends to lovers (idiots to lover really) + angst

warnings: mad pining but both side is oblivious  / jk and oc like each other but there’s a misunderstanding between them / jealousy (JEALOUSY!!! jealously is a serious disease oc is chronically ill!!) / taehyung is an instigator / future smut / it’s a no nut november fic so pretend it’s november plz / taehyung as the worst™ / miscommunication </3 / ANGST!

soundtracks: sensitive, alex porat + circles, april + 19th floor, joy crookes + starring role, marina + running up that hill, kate bush

summary: jeon jeongguk is your best friend—and nothing more. you’ve grown up with guy, watched him stumble through his awkward puberty, cheated on tests with him, witnessed his first kiss (which only happened because you persuaded him to kiss siyeon) which only strengthened your unbreakable bond. but now you’re in college and jeongguk isn’t an awkward preteen who needs your help to get girls anymore. it creeps onto you slowly, that feeling you’re harbouring for your best friend. but you’re determined to ignore—that is until taehyung sets of a chain of events that land you in a very interesting predicament. 

a/n: okay so this is now where you guys can start voting for plot points! my inbox is open for ideas :)

SERIES MASTERLIST

He sits down with a rather loud plop. It's the sound that captures your attention, breaking through the soft jazz music filling your ears. It doesn't even take one glimpse to know who it is. You can see it just by peering at his wrist, the glimmering luxurious watch face staring back at you defiantly. It ticks slowly, almost like a premonition that you're acutely aware of. It takes him a couple of patient seconds before he’s tugging at your earphone wires, leaving a droning saxophone forlornly floating in one ear and dunking the other into the blaring sounds of life around you. There's the thud of plastic meeting plastic, mingling with the idle chatter of humans and the gentle trickle of water from the nearby fountain engulfing your senses.. It's only then you look up. He has the audacity to smile, waving the bag clutched in his hands as if it's an olive branch and not a threat.

"Food," He offers into the silence, steadily meeting your eyes. Even with your steel gaze, Taehyung is unwavering, his eyebrow quirked as he awaits your answer.

For a moment your lips are drawn together in a thin defiant line, but then your stomach thunders, tormented by the scent of food sweeping through the air. It’s a betrayal even Taehyung hears, given by the way the corner of his mouth smugly tugs upwards. You only give in because you’re hungry. "Pass it over then."

There's a clear wash of relief slipping over his face, his features falling lax as he hands you the bag. "It's your payment, for the party." You ignore that, peering into the bag to find a delectable packed lunch awaiting you. There's a moment of hesitation. You're not sure you can trust Taehyung's cooking skills. "I bought it, relax. I wouldn't knowingly give you food poisoning," he tacks on, reading the look of doubt on your face. "Just try it. It's pretty good."

You take his word for it because you're ravenous, fingers already clasping around the chopsticks inside the bag. "Thank you," you mutter. It's said reluctantly but Taehyung brushes that off, grateful that you're still even talking to him right now. You'd been avoiding him around campus. You'd been avoiding everyone actually, apart from Chaeyoung and Namjoon but he wasn't about to interject himself into that dynamic. It was really by chance that he saw you here alone, the packed lunch in his bag serendipitous. He watches you pop the lid open quietly, gaze flickering the mountain of work sitting on the table before you. There's evident stress in your eyes and for a brief moment he feels bad for dragging you into this mess. But not bad enough to stop pushing at your buttons just a little more. 

"You've been ignoring my texts," Taehyung says, folding his hands underneath his chin. He purposefully leans forward over the table, almost trapping you can't escape him. You pause, a mouthful of pork and rice filling your cheeks, foraging through your brain for a good excuse. You'd essentially ignored every notification that wasn't university-related since that forsaken party. Which wasn't that long ago honestly. Only seven days of radio silence on your part. If you could push it to tweo weeks you would have, but instead, you're eating food Taehyung has just given you, with the man himself sitting expectantly right across from you. Maybe Taehyung deserved the silent treatment, maybe he didn't. All you knew was that you needed space.

"I was busy." You settle for that, staring pointedly at the pile of work awaiting you. Taehyung's gaze does not falter.

"We still have to talk, you know. What happened at the party?" He questions, ignoring the look you give him.

"Nothing. I was just tired," you retort, digging your chopsticks harshly into the plastic container. "Are you not hungry? Why aren't you eating?"

He shrugs. "Not feeling food right now. But that's beside the point, you haven't been talking to Jeongguk have you?"

You pause, slowly chewing on the food in your mouth. Your skin feels funny even from the mention of his name, but you don't want to reveal that particular reaction to the world just yet. Least not to Taehyung of all people.

"I haven't," you say carefully, keeping your tone as neutral as possible.

Taehyung's forehead creases in confusion. "Why not? Aren't the two of you best friends? Joined at the hip? All that jazz?"

That makes you bristle. "We're friends but we're also adults with different lives and obligations. I talk to him when I can, not all the time Taehyung. As I said, I'm busy."

He purses his lips, fingertips rapping against the plastic table. "Are you sure about that? Jeongguk thinks you're mad at him."

Oh. That takes you by surprise. There had been moments where the conversation had faltered between the two of you, the responsibilities of life getting in the way of your relationship. But nothing malicious ever spawned from those moments of silence, both of you understand the reasoning behind the lack of talking. And it's not like you would try and play catch up on each other's lives whenever you could. But maybe you had been more standoffish than usual. You hadn't opened a single text from him and there were many. You can't blame him for assuming that—it was a direct consequence of your actions after all.

"I'm not mad at him," you mumble. "I'm just too tired to talk to anyone right now. I kind of want to be alone."

Taehyung hums like he understands but you doubt he does. You've never seen him alone for longer than ten minutes at a time but he does have the personality that naturally attracts everyone towards him.

 "That's cool. I thought he had found out about the bet actually." 

You roll your eyes at that, catching Taehyung's suspicious glance at you. "What's with that?" He inquires, elbows firm on the table.

"Nothing," you mutter, but then you remember with sharp clarity the look he's shared with Jackson at the party. You'd been meaning to ask him about it anyway and as luck would have it the  opportunity has presented itself. "I have a question for you, by the way. What the hell was the thing between you and Jackson? At the party."

He sucks in a breath, fingers still busy incessantly tapping a rhythm onto the table. "Nothing, really," Taehyung says, parroting back to you your response. You barely hold back the irritation that threatens to burst out of you, raising an eyebrow at him because you know that's a lie. Taehyung gives in easily though, sighing heavily with a expasarated swoop of his eyes. "Jackson knows about the bet, between you and me. That's why he was laughing, honestly," Taehyung quickly amends, eyes flickering everywhere but you. "And we need to talk about that, too."

"About what? The bet?" You say, feigning ignorance even though your heart is thumping hard in your chest. You still can't brush off the feeling that Taehyung is holding back on something regarding his silent conversation with Jackson at the party but when you glance up he’s staring hard at you, the determination in his brown eyes making your own instantly wilt.

"Yes, the bet. I'm not sure what happened between the two of you at the party but you need to talk it out." You avoid his scrutinising gaze, packing away the lunch Taehyung had offered you, your belly gratefully full. He doesn't even react when you thank him, shoving the Tupperware into his backpack and idly snatching the pen you'd plucked up from your hands, much to your dismay. He simply refuses to take the hints you're giving him.

"I already said I'm not in the mood to talk to Jeongguk," you retort, mildly irritated when he snatches up your hand, the press of the pen against your skin making your glance up again. Taehyung hums, a noncommittal sound, as he begins drawing winding patterns across the back of your palm, the black ink flowing freely.

"Well, you better figure out how to get into the mood. My ass is on the line. I may have made another bet between Jackson and myself."

You scoff loudly, eyes roaming the span of the campus before you. There's a cool breeze whispering through the grounds, guiding the falling copper autumn leaves to the floor where they collect and form a thick burnt sienna carpet that shuffles every time the wind picks up. It's strangely tranquil, the calming waver of the leaves paired with Taehyung idly drawing on your hand wrapping around you. But there's still a torrent of thoughts rippling through your brain, and while you appreciate Taehyung's presence, his constant lack of awareness of the issues plaguing you is starting to get on your nerves.

"I said it already, I'm not really in the mood to talk to Jeongguk." You try to sound firm but you can feel his eyes boring into the side of your head. He makes a small noise in the back of his throat, and for a moment you think he's being disapprovaling but then Taehyung's mouth falls open.

"Speak of the devil," he mutters. You sneak a glimpse at him, only to find Taehyung's eyes concentrated on something behind you.

"Jeongguk?" You question, trying and failing miserably to calm the sudden erratic thumping in your chest.

"Yep." His gaze falls back to your palm, slowly sketching across your bare skin. "And as I was saying, whatever problem you two have, you need to solve it. It's making Jeongguk act pissy. I'm surprised to even see him smiling today."

You make a noise of acknowledgement, disregarding the itch in your neck to turn around and look. You hadn't seen him for a long time and your eyes are aching to take him in again, a realisation that makes you blink hard. "Maybe I will," you say, resolve weakening with the knowledge that Jeongguk is probably going to walk by at any second. Taehyung nods in response, mahogany curls bouncing with the movement. "But why does he even think I'm mad at him?" You question out loud, knowing the answer already but desperately needing a distraction from the thoughts running in your brain.

"Obviously, you've been distant as hell. When was the last time you even hung out with Jeongguk? Or talked to him for longer than ten minutes?" Taehyung's right, one of the last times you’d been with Jeongguk was when he came over piss drunk. That had ended up in an interesting predicament but you'd rather stab yourself in the gut then tell Taehyung what happened during that particular visit. Your face is already heating up from the memory. You'd locked it away,  never to be acknowledged but suddenly your palm feels strange and there's a tingling in your gut that you can't explain.

You huff as you open your mouth, trying to realise the tension building up inside of you. "Yeah, that's true-"

Your sentence is cut off by a rather loud laugh. You know that laugh, you've heard it almost every single day of your life as far as you can remember. It's deep and boisterous and your own mouth is already ticking upwards in response because when he laughs, you can't help yourself from smiling. It's muscle memory at this point, but you quickly tug it back down, swallowing the unexpected burst of happiness you feel as he draws into your line of vision. Jeongguk isn't looking in your direction yet but you can see him, head angled downwards with an easy grin on his face, his eyes crinkled with jubilation. It takes one slight flicker downwards and your heart tightens painfully in your chest. Nayoung is by his side, head tilted upwards as she talks to him, chestnut locks dancing in the gentle wind. They're leaning into each other, forming a small little bubble that you are instinctively aching to burst. Instead, you stay silent, biting your tongue when Nayoung murmurs something that has Jeongguk's grin broadening.

It takes you a moment to realise that you're blatantly staring. But, it's too late. Taehyung's already caught on, his gaze flickering between you and the two of them, clear curiosity shining inside his eyes.

"Who's that?" He questions the pen he was drawing by returning back to your skin after a brief pause.

"Nayoung," you reply, hoping your tone doesn't give anything else away. By the raise in Taehyung's eyebrows, you think you've failed at that. “Remember the party?”

"I don’t remember her being that pretty," he comments with a  distance in his tone that unnerves you.

You hum, having to admit it because she is gorgeous. Effortlessly so too. Even now when she tosses her hair over her shoulder there's a subtle elegance in the movement, her stride confident beside Jeongguk's.

"See," you say, "He already has someone. Why do you need me to make Jeongguk lose the bet? I give him three days tops with Nayoung around."

Taehyung laughs, an abrupt sound that you don't expect to hear. It's carried off by the wind, and you can see it, the exact moment the sound hits Jeongguk's ears. He turns around rather slowly, taking Nayoung by surprise too. The grin on his face is gone, and when your eyes meet, your heart twists painfully inside your chest.

"Wow, sometimes I wonder how your brain works, Y/N." Taehyung’s blissfully oblivious to the stare Jeongguk is giving him. His eyes suddenly slightly squinted like he's hoping the sight in front of him will vanish. You break Jeongguk’s gaze to glare at Taehyung, not quite understanding what he's implying. "Just send him a text, please. For all of our sake. Don't you want to talk to your best friend anyway?"

"I do but—" Nayoung's pawing at Jeongguk’s chest, grabbing a handful of his plaid shirt and gently tugging him away. There's a roaring inside your head as you watch how quickly he gives in to her touch, turning with an apologetic smile gracing his rose lips.

"But what?" Taehyung inquires, glancing up. You meet his gaze with a forced smile.

"But nothing. You're right, I should talk to him.”

—

you (04:34pm)

Hey

Sorry I didn't see those until now

mr struggle (04:45pm)

really? I find that hard to believe.

you (04:47pm)

Okay, fair enough

Sorry for ignoring them

I  was being a dickhead

mr struggle (04:51pm)

Really? I hadn't noticed.

you (04:52pm)

Dude. i know you're mad

But if we continue arguing like this we're going to get nowhere

I don't want to fight with you

Please

mr struggle (05:02pm)

...that's rich coming from you

you've literally been mia with no reason

none. zero reason

and now you want to talk it out

Does that even sound fair?

you (05:03pm)

I have a reason! I can explain!

Just hear me out

mr struggle (05:03pm)

what if i don't want to

you (05:07pm)

Jeongguk

Are you being serious right now

mr struggle (05:09pm)

yes and no

i have things to say to you too

we need to talk

you (05:10pm)

We do

Please don't be mad at me

I've missed u

you (05:12pm)

Can we meet at the park? tomorrow? 5pm?

On our bench?

mr struggle (05:16pm)

im busy today

practise 

maybe later?

you (05:23pm)

Oh okay

No worries

But promise?

mr struggle (05:47pm)

promise.

—

That promise apparently amounted to nothing because ages have passed since you’d last communicated with Jeongguk. You can’t even be truly mad at him, considering you started this whole silent war first. But it’s still unsettling to see how far he’s willing to let this go. It especially stings because you still see him in passing around your university, and of course somehow Nayoung has started floating around him like a bad stench. Her dainty disposition is always perfect, sporting tiny skirts (despite the onset of winter swiftly incoming) and pretty pearls. Her hair remains bone straight, gently swaying over her shoulders whenever she accompanies him to class. Except for the other day, when a delicate pastel pink ribbon was tied through her hair. It wouldn’t have been so bad if you hadn’t spied Jungkook’s fingers idly toying with the fabric. The action was fleeting enough for you to miss it if you hadn’t been in the student square at the time, momentarily distracted from your assignments. Except you had, and it was enough for the rest of the day to fade into a blinding fit of misery.

Whatever spell she’s casted on him was working. You’d been essentially replaced, no regard for the memories you held with Jeongguk. Perhaps it was worth it, the two of them did look good together. Good enough that you hadn’t dared to show up to Jeongguk’s place and demand an audience with your best-friend. Not when Nayoung might be the one to open the door instead.

It’s a sentiment that has been slowly eating away at you on the inside. It’s not something you can share with either Chaeyoung or Namjoon because they wouldn’t understand it. But for some ungodly reason, while lying on Taehyung’s bed, you can’t help but spill everything out. Everything but your deep disdain for Nayoung—nobody else but you needs to know that for now.

Taehyung, in return, for the past five minutes has been staring at you like you’ve sprouted a third eye. 

“Stop looking at me like that,” you finally bristle, swinging your body upright. “This is your fault, you know.”

He splutters so loudly you can't help but feel offended. “My fault? Your pitiful communication skills are my fault?”

“No, you dimwit. This situation is your fault. This wouldn’t be happening if I hadn’t listened to you.”

Taehyung rolls his eyes at that, tosses a slipper at your legs in retaliation. “If it was such a bad idea why did you agree in the first place?”

You know why. That scene of Nayoung fluttering her perfectly long curled lashes at Jeongguk is why.

“Momentary lapse of judgement,” you return instead. Taehyung barely muffles his incredulous laugh. “But you need to fix this,” you continue, waving an accusatory finger at him. “You need to talk to him and tell him about your stupid plan or whatever.”

Taehyung doesn’t break your gaze as he leans forward, eyebrows drawn straight with scrutiny. “Explain what? Why would Jeongguk care whether there was a ploy against him? He knows this was never going to be a fair bet. And, the fight between you has nothing to do with my plans as far as I know.” You’re seriously considering plucking up one of his pillows and smothering him to death but he interjects before you can turn those thoughts into actions. “You need to get the balls to sit down and make him listen to you. He’s clearly hurt. You know he only gets pissy like this when he can’t deal with his emotions. Don’t pin the blame on me here, there’s obviously something you’re not telling him. Or me. Or hell, even yourself.”

Your skin prickles at that, eyebrows furrowing together. “What do you mean by that?”

Taehyung pauses, tongue pressed against his check. His eyes shut behind heavy doors as he leans in, the words that leave his mouth next carefully measured. “I don’t know. You just haven’t told me why you and Jeongguk are fighting in the first place. Forgive my mind for jumping to conclusions.”

You’re immediately scrambling over, your jaw set when Taehyung spins away instead, turning the back of his chair to you as he clicks his massive monitor on. “You can’t just say that and not elaborate,” you say, a venom-filled shot at the back of his head.

“I’m just doing what you’re doing,” Taehyung returns, nonchalant. “Maybe if you told me the exact reason behind this sudden fight I would do the same.”

The same? You’re starting to despise him and his cryptics and you vocalise that with an irritated sigh. “The reason is you and you’re-you’re whatever this is. He probably knows and got pissed about that.”

“Did he get pissed about that or did he get pissed over the attention you were giving me?” Taehyung delivers this death blow with a sharp twist of his chair back towards you, a single eyebrow curved in challenge. 

“Wh-what? Why would he get mad at that?”

Taehyung looks at you hard, so hard that you’re certain he’s peering right through your skull. Almost as if it’s empty.

“I don’t know, maybe you could tell me,” he murmurs. 

“I don’t know, that’s why I’m asking you,” you snap back. “And wasn’t that the point of stupid plan anyway? To make him jealous?”

“The point was to make him fail which—wait—you’re not entirely wrong there…” His tapering off should have been alarming but you’re too riled up and irritated to make that observation, mind eager to finally find a source to blame. 

“See,” you continue, aware of the dangerous ticking in Taehyung’s brain. “This is your fault. So do me a favour and go talk to him.”

Taehyung stays uncharacteristically silent, the contemplative look settling across his features perturbing. You wait for him to admit his wrongs but it’s almost as if something clicks in his head, a lightbulb illuminating your demise suddenly glowing bright. 

“Actually,” Taehyung says, turning to you cautiously. “I have a different proposal. It’s going to sound crazy so just bear with me for a moment.” 

“Taehyung,” you warn. He shushes you with a wave of his hand.

“If, Jeongguk,” he starts, “For some unimaginable dumbfounding reason gets jealous when you give me attention, we could use that to our advantage.”

If your brain is absent his definitely just fell out of the back of his skull. “Are you being serious? Taehyung? Like genuinely serious right now.”

“Yes,” he replies, stoically. “If you’re willing to, we could pretend to date.”

You’re life must be a big fat fucking joke because there’s no way Kim Taehyung just said that to you. He must read the disbelief on your face because he offers a devious smile in return, the laugh that spills from his lips low. “You don’t have to worry, you’re not my type. It’s all strictly business.”

“I do not care about being your type,” you snap. “And that does not help my situation with Jeongguk at all. That’s going to make it worse.”

“It could.” Taehyung shrugs, idly returning back to his screen. He’s got Apex Legends loading casually, as if he hadn’t dropped a massive bomb on your head seconds ago. “Or it could fix it, in a roundabout way.”

“You are a terrible person,” you supply, getting up with speed. “Forget about it.”

Taehyung shrugs, typing in his user login. “Isn’t everyone to some extent? And I’ll talk to Jeongguk for you. Just think about it and let me know. I promise it’ll work out better than you think.”

You leave him with a harsh slam of his door, your feet instinctively leading you out of his apartment and door a familiar pathway. It’s somewhat embarrassing that even for a second you possibly thought that Taehyung could be a source of comfort and not a further instigator of the problems currently plaguing you. If anything, he just proved to you that you and Jeongguk need to talk. Properly. Even if the idea of it makes your throat close up, a tight sting spreading through your chest, But your feet trek onwards, turning the corner as the sun splits through the clouds, a trail of pomegranate pink and blinding red in its wake. The colours echo in your chest, your heart a thumping mess of emotions as you draw closer to his place. But it doesn’t compare to the bitter feeling Taehyung had left in your mouth. Or the treasure of treacherous thoughts he had unlocked. Neither of which need to be fully addressed as long as you talk to him, 

Finally, as sunlight dwindles into gloomy greys and heavy blues you reach his place, your chest hurting from the sudden exertion. Maybe you should have followed Jeongguk into the gym when he used to ask. But, that’s not an important thought to dwell on as your feet bound up his stairs, fist already poised to knock. But just before your skin connects with the wood you hear it. That laugh. And it’s intertwined with his, uncharacteristically gentle and soft as it bleeds through the door and right into your chest. Except you feel it turn sharp as the sound grows louder, your feet shuffling away as it begins to pierce your heart open. 

It’s practically pitiful, the image of you crouching behind the fire stairwell as Jeongguk’s door twists open and they step out. She’s giggling at something he said, her eyes beams stuck on his features in evening light. Jeongguk is just as enraptured, guiding her down the pathway you’d just come bounding up with a firm palm drifting to the base of her back. The smile on his lips makes you physically sick but your eyes can’t part from their retreating figures.

Whatever you’d felt before feels like nothing compared to the rip currently forming in your chest. It’s jagged, brimming with angry fanged edges that succeed in swallowing your heart whole. Bile seems to have permanently coated the base of your throat, burning every time you attempt to force down the pit in your throat. You walk back home in silence, blinking at your surroundings as if you’ve never seen them before. It’s like the colours have been sucked out and replaced with something less vibrant—or have you been looking at the world in the wrong way the whole time?

It’s a thought that clings to the corner of your mind when you finally get home, unable to do anything else but strip and crawl into bed. Your phone eventually bings with a notification that you almost ignore, until you catch the ID name. Jeongguk. Of course. Like he can personally hear the deadly hollow forming in your chest. Except you can’t bear to open his text message, your fingers swiping to text somebody else. 

It’s not like Taehyung can make this situation any worse than it already is.

[sanders-sides-dnd]

Family Reunion Chapter 1

Here it is! The beginning of our adventures. I’m sorry this took so long. This was the first session of the first game we played together, everything the characters do was the choice of their players. This includes the romance, I later worked their pairings into their backstories to add some clarity. If you have any questions for us or the characters our askbox is open. Wordcount: 5048 TWs: Kidnapping, swearing, violence, implied child death, implied child abuse, ghosts, hunting, dog Pairings: Logince, Moceit Taglist (ask to be added): @crazydemigod666 @newtnotfound @star-crossed-shipper @3amthebitchinghour @s4moose 

The group woke up and felt a tight rope tying them all together. They looked around the darkness and most were able to identify they were in a cell, they also saw Prince Roman sitting outside the cell. He softly stroked Kai, the paladin Patton the Moral’s hound. Roman didn’t notice his friends had woken. Logan, a human wizard and partner of Prince Roman, recognised the cell. They were in the castle of Creativiton which explained why Roman was not locked up. His parents wouldn’t lock up their heir. But why were they locked up? Logan was the first to try and get Roman’s attention.

“Why are we here?” Logan asked. Roman’s black eyes lit up when his partner spoke. “What happened?” The group all looked at Roman. Kai stuck his head through the bars to try and get to his owner. Roman felt guilty, this was all his fault. He remembered what had happened. They were happily walking through the forest, unaware how close they strayed to Roman’s kingdom. They were ambushed by familiar guards, his mothers personal battalion, they knocked out his friends before they could even fight. They were all tied up and brought back to the castle. He was separated from his friends and brought to his less than pleased parents who promptly banished him to his room to wait, however he clearly didn’t stay there long. “Are you all okay?” Roman asked full of concern. “We were ambushed on our journey.” The half-orc answered as he slid a cup of water through the bars towards his friends. Patton, being only a few feet tall, easily slid out of the ropes and inspected the water. “My parents are… displeased we left. They wished to speak to all of us, I was waiting for you all to wake up.” Patton brought the water to Logan to inspect, he was much smarter after all. Logan nodded and took a sip, Patton followed hesitantly. Janus the deceiver, Patton’s partner, a wicked tiefling warlock, smirked and took a drink not worried if it was poisoned or not. Virgil drank too and Patton returned the cup. “Why are we in a cell?” Patton asked as he handed the cup over. “Couldn’t they have spoken to us over dinner or something not… this?” Virgil, the rogue elf, piped up. Roman looked away guiltily. Patton moved to pet his hound. “I think they’re just angry we left the castle. Although I agree, locking you up is a bit drastic.” Roman sympathised. Janus scoffed. “And tying us up is just for safety.” Janus remarked, snarky as always. “Right, totally believable.” Janus never trusted royals, the only reason he could get along with Roman is because they met away from the castle. Roman paused for a moment. “We’ve been here a few hours and I haven’t seen Remus yet.” Roman said solemnly. Prince Remus or, as he preferred, Duke Remus was not the kind to be quiet. Especially after his brother who has been gone for so long came back. Virgil knew this was weird too, he was a close friend to Remus. Well, until he abandoned him that is. Roman shook his head and got back to business. “I could break you out of here and we can leave. Or we could stay and talk to my parents… although I am starting to think fleeing might be our best move. What do you think we should do?” Roman nervously eyed a nearby guard, trying his best to stay out of sight.  Virgil asked what everyone was thinking. “Did you know your parents were going to do this?” Virgil pressed. “Of course not, I have no idea why they would lock you up!” Roman defended. “You know your parents best. Do you think talking to them would work?” Virgil asked. He already knew from what he’d heard from the twins that the Queen definitely wasn’t the talking it out type but perhaps the king was? Logan spoke up after a bit of contemplation, working at the castle meant he had a good array of knowledge to help make a decision.  “If Duke Remus is missing then something suspicious is going on. I vote we flee while we have the chance.” Logan concluded. “I’m sure they have a reason to want to talk! Even if they weren’t the best to their guests...” Patton opposed. He always saw the best in people, it’s what he was taught in the temple he grew up in, even when it got him in trouble. "I say we get out now and then we'll see." Janus said. He was Patton’s grounding force, bringing him back from his dream lands and reminding him of the harsh reality. “They were in a foul mood when I spoke to them earlier, I vote we get out of here.” Roman informed. "If we escape do you think your parents will send people after us?" Virgil questioned. Roman thought for a moment before replying. "Most likely, but what other choices do we have?" Roman finally replied.  "What if they just kidnap us again?" "Then we'll get out again." Janus announced. Virgil knew how to do that, he’d been in these jails many times. Logan grew agitated, they needed to make a decision quickly. "We do not have time to worry about that, we must be focused on getting out for the time being!" Logan reminded them all. "The best we can do now is to get as far away as possible, we'll cross that bridge when we get to it." Roman added. With a nod Virgil and Patton finally gave in. Virgil quickly got to work. With his hands behind his back he quickly found the knot keeping the men together, the knot was tough but Virgil was an expert. In mere seconds the rope slacked and the men were free. Virgil knew the key to a successful escape was speed so he wasted no time beginning to pick the lock. Roman looked at the guard, he was still unaware. The bars opened with a quiet squeak. “Where to now?” Virgil whispered as they all exited the cell. They had no gear, no weapons, they weren’t in the best position. Roman remembered all the times Remus and he had snuck around the castle, trying to think of an exit. "I can lead us out of here, but we'd have to go through the main halls. There's a high chance we could be spotted." Roman whispered. "Damn, no secret passageways?" Virgil retorted with a smirk. In all his years here he had never found any but then again he wasn’t a royal. "None that I can think of right now, and none that won't be monitored by my father's men." Roman informed as the group started sneaking. “They wouldn't expect us to go through the main halls, out in the open. It's our best chance of escape." Roman looked around the corner, it seemed clear. The men kept low and ran quietly, Roman took care looking around every corner to watch for guards. Eventually they made it to sight of the door, but as Roman looked around the corner he saw the shins of a familiar human. He looked up to see the black armour his mothers battalion wore, the same colour as the man’s hair and stubble. His helmet was off so Roman could clearly see his grey eyes looking down at him. “Ah Roman, how predictable.” Remy teased as Roman rose in shame. "Remy, " Roman said grimly. "Let us pass, my friends and I have done no wrong." Without a word, guards seized the group and brought them to the throne room. Roman was set at the front of the group with the others slightly behind. They stayed silent as two royals stepped out. A tall and stocky orc woman with brown dreaded hair and a lean human warrior in a golden crown on his silver hair. The king and queen stood on a dais with one throne, looking down at their son and his party.

“Ah Roman I see your companions are awake.” The king sung. The king was a professional man, even Roman had never heard his name. He had always called him Dad or Your Majesty. This didn’t mean he was a stick in the mud, he was a happy man just a stickler for titles. “Welcome to Creativiton!” Queen Bhom Head-Crusher greeted, knowing well some of the group had been here before. The Queen was a true blood orc, married into human society. Steel and war ran through her veins. She was caring but violent and bull-headed. “Salutations.” Logan said with a controlled glare. “Pleasure.” Janus followed with a scoff. Patton tried to bow and Virgil tried not to barf. “It’s been a while since I had you in chains, Virgil.” Remy chuckled. "Can't get enough of me in chains?" Virgil shot back. “What is the meaning of this?” Roman cried, outraged at the treatment of him and his friends. They had been knocked and locked and now, just as they had a taste of freedom, chained. Queen Bhom looked across the group then let her eyes land on Roman. “When you left your brother was quite upset that you didn’t ask him to join you. He felt as if you didn’t care about him anymore. He was sad for a while but then it turned into anger.” She explained. Roman felt guilt begin to scratch at his stomach. “He wanted to find you and make you explain yourself. So he left, without telling us.” The Queen’s black eyes grew sad, but her face did not waver from it’s strong expression. "Is that all?” Janus announced. All eyes turned to him. “Hardly seems a reason to put us in chains and a cell." Janus didn’t let royals hold power over him, he had once and it ended with blood on his face and a demon in his mind. “Well, street rat, we can’t have both of our heirs just off running around in forests. We need at least one of you here or our reputation will be destroyed.” The King reasoned. He looked directly at Roman. “So we're grounding you until your brother comes back and we can sort this out together. Your friends must stand trial for treason and kidnapping but if they leave without causing trouble then I won’t stop them.” Roman blinks, momentarily thrown off guard. "He's never shown interest in fighting with us before, I didn't think this time was any different, so I didn't ask." Roman mumbled. This wasn’t like his brother. Yes he was wild and unpredictable, and he hated the castle, okay maybe it was like him. "Not to be rude, your majesty, but how is it our fault if Duke Remus felt a certain way and did certain actions? Those were of his own volition." Logan asked. “And it’s not kidnapping if Roman came with us willingly.” Virgil added. Patton raised his hand. “Your highnesses?” He addressed incorrectly. “Some of us are not even from here. How can it be treason if we aren’t citizens?” Roman put out a hand to silence his friends. He took a deep breath and stepped forward. He could stand up to his parents one on one, but both of them together is a challenge.  "Mother, Father, surely you see that this is unreasonable?” Roman began. “I went with my friends of my own volition, it was in no way a kidnapping. Let them go peacefully, and I swear to stay and do whatever it takes to locate my brother. He couldn't have gone far. Let me take responsibility for him, but let my friends leave." Roman’s plan to sacrifice himself did not sit well with his friends. However, his mother looked down proudly. “Well how about a trial by combat, an orc tradition.” Queen Bhom announced proudly. The king tapped her arm gently but she gave him a reassuring glance. “If you can find your brother and bring him back then it would be quicker and we won’t have to send more guards. It’ll also prove to us that you can go out and adventure with your companions without getting yourself killed.” The queen waited for a response. Roman looked back at his friends, they all gave him enthusiastic nods. Roman pulled himself to his full height. “I accept.” With a wave of her hand the guards escorted the group to the armoury where all their gear was laying on the ground. While everyone gathered their gear Virgil turned to Remy. “Don’t miss me too much.” Virgil flirted with a wink. Remy looked away, the faint blush on his face mostly covered by his stubble. The others kept a close eye on Virgil while they gathered their stuff. Roman thought it was a good idea to have the head guard on their side. Logan and Roman looked around at the other guards protectively. “Hurry up and get your stuff before I lock you up.” Remy said in a stressed tone. Virgil began collecting his stuff while looking back at Remy. “I’m sure you’ll be looking forward to that.” Virgil shot another wink. Remy looked away awkwardly. Virgil did too as he remembered the last time before this he was locked up, it wasn’t his most graceful encounter. Janus made a gagging noise and rolled his eyes.

When everyone had their stuff Remy escorted them out of the castle and slammed the large door behind them. The streets were narrow and the group walked in sets of two. Logan looked at Roman. “You know Remus the best, where is he likely to go?” Logan asked. “Tavern.” Virgil and Roman answered in unison. Roman continued. “He’s a fan of wandering around. He’s usually at the tavern but I’ve seen him around the inn, the blacksmith, and that old burned farm.” “There’s also a hunting store he likes to visit.” Virgil added. "Maybe we should try the tavern first," Roman mused. "He's probably passed out drunk under the counter." "With so many places, perhaps it would be wise to split up?" Logan suggested. They all agreed. Roman split from the group to go to the tavern, he didn’t find Remus but the bartender did tell him they hadn’t seen the duke in a week. Logan and Janus went to the inn, they hadn’t seen him at all. Patton brought his hound and found the blacksmith, he informed him that Remus had stopped by a month ago to get some weapons sharpened. Virgil took the hunting store where he found out Remus had bought a large sum of dried meat about a month ago.

The group met up again at the gates to share their findings as they headed out to the last place on their list. The burned down farm. The sky was a dim orange as the sun disappeared. "This is worrying, to say the least," Murmured Roman. He started to look visibly concerned about his brother. "Sharpening weapons, hoarding dry rations, sounds like he was planning to go away for a while." Logan put a hand on his partner's shoulder in an attempt to comfort him. He knew Remus and Roman were close, this had to be affecting him a lot. "Well we were gone for a while ourselves. It's a good thing he at least has anything with him at all.” Janus reasoned, but it only made Roman’s guilt grow.  “Now what is the deal with this farm?” Roman and Virgil smirked at each other before leaping into a dramatic stance. “We don’t know a lot about the farm…” Roman began suspiciously. Logan knew this song and dance. “I heard a child who was just learning to control magic lived here with her family. One day she lost control and burned down the whole farm.” Virgil explained and Roman made an explosion sound behind him. Janus and Logan rolled their eyes but Patton was entranced. "The flames didn't touch anything on the other side of the fence, and they didn't touch her younger brother's things. The girl and her parents perished, her brother was never found." Roman finished with a flourish. Patton clapped. Roman turned around and saw a charred fence. They were here. 

By this time it was dark, and the darkness only enhanced how creepy the house was. Under the full moon’s glow they inspected the burned walls. The house was a husk, not even the roof remained. However a small hay bed and some kids toys were alone, only touched by a thick layer of dust. They felt a cold presence around them. Janus lit a torch to help them see. “I feel like something doesn’t want us here...” Roman said as he lit up another torch. Logan inspected the toys without touching them, they had no ash on them. Just dirt and dust. They looked like they hadn’t been touched in years. Patton closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Using his divine powers bestowed upon him after a lifetime of prayer, he could sense the presence of good and evil. He breathed deeply through his nose. He could smell the foul scent of an evil and greedy presence. It was so strong it nearly startled him. Virgil saw a flick of white in the corner of his eye but when he turned there was nothing here. "I don't like the vibes of this place. How about we just confirm that Remus isn't here and get the fuck out?" Virgil fretted. He did care about Remus, but this place seemed off. Janus saw what Patton was doing and put a hand on his shoulder. Patton nodded in response. “There’s something here.” Janus shouted to the group who was spread around the house. They all looked over. “What kind of something?” Logan asked. Janus enjoyed being vague but it annoyed Logan. Maybe that was part of why he enjoyed it. “Only one way to find out.” Janus smirked. He gave his torch to Patton and sat down. He began chanting in a language no one else could understand. “Venite Tenebrae Animae et Ostende te.” Three ghostly figures faded into view in front of him. One child and two adults. The child appeared in the corner, she looked to be hiding. The adults, a man and a woman, quickly turned on the party with a hiss. The group readied their weapons. Patton was first to attack as he grabbed his battle-axe in one hand and raised his shield with the other. He pulled back and swung his axe at the female ghost. It passed right through her. “Crap…” Patton let out before the ghost retaliated. She scratched his face with her long nails. It didn’t do much but it was enough that it pushed him back. Roman took out his great-sword and raised it above his head. The heavy steel blade and golden hilt caught the torch light. Roman was about to take a risk. But it didn’t seem like he could do much else. If Patton’s silver axes didn’t work then surely his sword wouldn’t do much more.  "Don't come any closer!" He yelled with his booming orcish voice. "I am Prince Roman of Creativiton, and I command you to stay back!" When they were alive they clearly lived in Creativiton, perhaps not during Roman’s life but at some point. Perhaps they still had some loyalty. Roman’s risk paid off as the ghosts cowered, leaving them vulnerable. Janus took the opportunity. He took out his staff and held it horizontally in front of him. The staff was curved and made of light coloured apple wood. A python is etched into the wood circling to the top, the side of the staff where the head was. “Illusio.” He whispered to himself. He pointed the end of his staff towards the attacking ghosts and a wall of flames shot towards them. They were shocked and backed themselves against the wall, much more scared than Patton’s attack. The male ghost looked to his right to see the scared child. He grabbed her and held her out like a shield. “Janus, what can we do?” Virgil asked as he pulled out his daggers. Janus was their creature expert, there is nothing he hadn’t fought. “Healing items and magic.” Janus shouted back. Virgil put away his daggers. Those weren’t going to do squat. “Healing?” Virgil asked again. Janus rolled their eyes although it was hard to tell since they were pure gold. “They lose connection to the physical realm because of the healing properties.” Janus explained as the male ghost shook the child at them. Logan was the only other who knew spells. He pulled out his silver staff, the blue gems attached to the top already glowing. He pointed the staff at the female ghost, streaks of blue shot out. The ghost disappeared as it was hit by the rays of frost, only leaving behind a thin layer of ice on the wall behind it. Roman shot a proud smile at his partner. He loved watching him fight, the way his face was lit by the magical spells he trained so hard to learn was his favourite sight. “One down.” Logan said proudly. Patton took advantage of his close range and called upon his divine powers again. His hands glowed with a healing light. Janus took the opportunity to reach to the shelf behind him and pick up a few small pieces of rubble discarded there. Patton lunged at the remaining ghost, attempting to avoid the child he shielded himself with. The ghost quickly turned on him, holding out the child. Patton retracted, not wanting to harm her. Across the room Janus put away his staff and pulled out a sling. He closed his hand around the rocks and whispered into it. “Incanto lapis.” When Janus opened his hand, the pebbles had a hint of a pink glow around them. He loaded the three small rocks into the sling and took aim. “Are you aiming at the child?!” Patton yelled from across the room. He knew his partner too well at this point. The rest of the group also looked over at him “Yeah.” Janus responded. The party looked between the two, not even paying attention to the ghost. “The child is a child!” Patton scolded. “Fine.” Janus groaned. He let go of the elastic and the rocks flew towards the ghosts. The little girl put up her hands to block her face but the pebbles went around her, bouncing off the wall and hitting her attacker. The other ghost faded after the rocks hit his head, the small girl fell to the floor. She stood and looked around. She smiled brighter than the white glow around her as the party put away their weapons. “Thank you! Thank you for helping me!” She said gratefully. She looked around at them all before her eyes fell on Kai. “Oh, can I pet your dog?” She asked happily. Patton offered the girl a comforting smile. “Of course you can.” He answered. The girl floated forward and began playing with the dog. They all looked at each other. Roman kneeled down next to the girl. “Hello there.” He said gently, trying to get her attention without startling her. She looked over with a smile. “Hi!” She replied. She looked at Roman quizzically for a second. “You look my friend.” Roman looked interested. For anyone else this’d be just a confused or funny kid moment, but he had a twin brother who hung around this house. “Your friend?” He asked, trying to pull more information from the child. She turned away from Roman to continue playing with Kai. “My friend Duke. He always scares away my parents when they try to hurt me but he wasn’t here this time.” She explained happily. Roman looked up at his friends. “He came by a month ago and told me that he was leaving. I miss him. He was silly and made me laugh. He promised he’d come back though!” The story seemed to fit what Roman’s parents had told them. Remus was a prince but preferred the title of duke in non-formal settings. He always said What’s the point of being called a prince if I won’t get the crown? “He’s my brother.” Roman was excited to finally have some information but tried to keep his voice quiet and reassuring. "We haven't seen him in a while either, do you have any idea where he went? Also what’s your name?" He questioned. He felt guilty for interrogating a small dead child. “I don't remember my name, but I do know where Dukey went. He said he was going to find you. He went to the witches in the north forest to see if they knew where you was.” She stopped playing with Kai and turned to Roman who had now shifted to a sitting position. “I’m looking for my brother too! Have you seen him? His name is Elliott.” Roman looked up at Logan who shrugged. He looked at the others who also didn’t know. "I'm really sorry, we haven't seen your brother,” Roman said. "Or my brother," he added after a pause. The small girl reached out and touched his hand. She smiled at him, he couldn’t help but smile back. “Okay. If you see him tell him he’s late and Mama and Pa are going to be mad.” The child said as she started to fade. Roman gave her one last nod as she disappeared. Roman stayed sitting for a couple seconds. He felt bad for the young girl. Logan put a hand on his partner’s shoulder. “We should find somewhere to set up camp.” Janus prompted. Roman nodded and stood slowly. They all left the burnt out house and set up camp on the edge of the northern forest, lighting a small fire and dropping some of their gear. “Our supplies are low.” Logan said, rummaging through his bag. “We’ll need to find some food.” Virgil nodded. He and Logan went into the forest. “I’ll go too, we’ll have a better chance.” Janus said as he stood. “Take Kai.” Patton told him. Kai trod up next to Janus. They headed into the forest together. After a while Logan and Virgil returned. "I saw some berries.” Logan said upon returning. Virgil settled empty handed by the fire. “I thought they were blackberries. I tried to get them. I was unable to, and was damaged by the thorns." Logan put out his arms to show a number of scratches. Behind him Janus came out of the treeline. "Well it turns out having the dog with us was very beneficial." Janus said and dropped a dead fox in front of Logan. "Look what he caught." Logan flushed red as Janus nudged him jokingly. "Never speak a word of this again." Logan huffed and went over to sit in Roman’s lap, Janus picked up the fox again. "Of course not Logan, I wouldn't want to blackmail you with any of this." Janus teased as he handed the fox to Patton. After the fox was skinned and cooked they all sat around the fire eating together. Janus and Patton sat facing each other, both with food in their lap. “You know I think I left something in the forest.” Janus said as they ate. “Help me come look for it?” Patton rolled his eyes. Janus and him had been dating for near a year now. He knew his tricks. “Janus! Everyone can hear you.” Patton didn’t really mind that much. “Yeah they look very interested.” Janus laughed and nodded towards Logan and Roman. They had abandoned their dinner and started kissing instead. Virgil was playing with Kai nearby. “Even so. I would prefer something a little more romantic then just follow me into the forest.” Patton responded. Again, Patton didn’t really mind. He loved Janus no matter whether he was able to come up with fancy words or not. He just enjoyed teasing him. Janus tried to come up with something quickly but his flustered mind couldn’t find anything. “So…” Janus began. “Papaya?” Janus drew out the last sound of that word. Patton giggled, it was cute putting Janus on the spot. He was usually so sharp tongued but when it came to Patton he would lose his nerve. Patton decided to throw him a bone. He put down his plate and put his arms around Janus’ neck. “Well I don’t know anything about papaya…” He began. He got close to Janus’ pointed ear, his breath warmed it better than the fire did. “But I do know about peaches.” Without warning Janus stood, holding Patton. He ran off into the forest with his partner. Virgil enjoyed the company of Kai. Virgil didn’t talk much and Kai didn’t mind, mostly because Kai was a dog and also couldn’t talk. Virgil also enjoyed being an elf. It meant he could stay up later than his friends. He looked across at his sleeping friends, he hated just sitting around. It meant he had to think. There were lots of things he didn’t want to think about right now. He went into the forest and climbed into the trees. He jumped from one branch to another. He did this as a kid, except instead of trees it was buildings. It helped him clear his head, focusing only on where to jump next. As he jumped he heard a scamper below him. He looked around and saw a fat rabbit. “You shouldn’t be out this late.” Virgil whispered as he grabbed his shortbow. He also took out an arrow, the purple feathers were stiff against his hand as he pulled the arrow back against the string. “Goodnight little bunny.” Virgil hummed as he let go of the string. He gathered the rabbit and took it back to the camp. There were just enough embers left in the fire to cook it. He stored it in his bag and found a place to sit against a tree. The other four were huddled together, sleeping in one big pile. Even Kai was with them. He felt a little left out, but he needed to be alone to meditate. Virgil closed his eyes, signalling the end to another day of adventure.