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jinkookspencil · 2 years

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stay | jjk

jungkook is drunk out of his mind, belting pop ballads in the middle of the night.... you had to check in on him

description/tw/tags: ~4k words / jungkook x (f) reader / one-shot / angst and fluff / friends to lovers / inspired by jungkook's recent lives!! i just had to :') / includes drunk, flirty jungkook and mentions of alcohol and drinking / oc stays sober / jungkook gets so drunk thinks he's having a steamy dream with oc gone wrong / feedback is always welcome and it's appreciated!! it's been a while since anyone really told me their honest thoughts on my fics 💗

Celine Dion’s voice blasting through your phone was not what you expected when you got a call from Jungkook, but it was enough for you to know exactly what he was doing. It was an odd thing, you realized. Jungkook never had never admitted to listening to Celine Dion, Taylor Swift, Adele, or any other musical queen you adored - he never protested when you blasted their songs through the car radio or when you belted out their songs during karaoke nights, but he never, ever sang along or reacted much either…. except for when he was drunk… except for when he was too drunk. And it was only ever when he was drunk and alone or drunk and with you. In front of his friends or to you when he was sober, he still pretended he couldn't name a Celine Dion song besides "the Titanic one." But you knew better. Between her iconic vocals through the phone, you could hear Bam’s dog collar jingling, Jungkook’s all over the place but still excellent singing and humming, and finally… sniffles. In the blink of an eye, you were in a cab on your way to his place, not hanging up and listening to him sing “My Heart Will Go On” and "All By Myself" over and over until you got there. Right at the brief moment of silence when the song ended, you knocked on the door, extra loudly and in your signature pattern, so he’d know it was you - but it seemed to only signal Bam, who obviously knew it was you before Jungkook did, jumping up and down even before his owner opened the door in confusion.

“Bamie-,” you giggle against the dog’s nose while he licks yours, Jungkook still disoriented when you look up at him.

“H-hiiiiii,” he forces a smile on his face after realizing you were actually there. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard Celine Dion, so I came,” you say, ruffling Jungkook’s long hair and plopping down on his living room couch. He’s still standing by the door, trying to realize the situation. “You must’ve drunk-called me while trying to choose a song, idiot. Or maybe you were trying to call someone else.” You push away the thought. “Anyways, I’m here to make sure you’re okay. And to see the secret Taylor Swift setlist later.”

“Ahhhhhhhhhh. I actually called you….” Jungkook nods, trying to remember if he did while you figure out what he meant. He chuckles, clicking his tongue before offering you the gigantic, half-filled stein in his hand. “Do you want some beer?”

“I’m here to make sure you don’t do anything crazy, Koo. Don’t make me a problem, too.”

Jungkook holds back a smile while grabbing a second microphone and dramatically turning around, his long hair twirling behind him. “It’s me. Hi. I’m the problem. It’s me.”

“Oh god, Jungkook,” you shake your head backwards. Were your persistent efforts at trying to get him to listen to Taylor Swift worth it if he was going to make such cheesy jokes? When you look up and see his scrunched-up nose and proud smirk, you have your answer. It was.

“Nah, I’m not done with my girl Cel-Celine Dion. You know, she’s a very good singer.” It’s only now, when Jungkook says the most obvious statement, do you notice how slurred his voice is. “I still haven't done these songs, yet. ‘The Power of Love' and 'It's All Coming Back To Me' - my… my drinking songs, join and let's GO!”

You watch Jungkook pace around his living room, belting out the song while holding his beer glass with an iron grip, and you can’t help but think about the floppy-haired boy in front of you rather than the not-so-careful steps and chugs he took mid-song, ignoring the mic in your hand. You could never count the days and nights you spent with Jungkook. It all started with the ‘Netflix and Chill’ nights. When he suggested it, you’d panicked until he insisted he meant actually chilling and watching Netflix - and whether it was cuddly, commentary-filled K-drama sessions or drunken fried chicken and reality show nights, you enjoyed every minute of it…. but more so when those nights evolved. As cute as though nights may be, they were topped. The caring, vulnerable nights where you’d slowly unravel a new emotional layer of yourself to the other and the moon - with no one else in the know… those were the ones that destroyed you and put you together again, all at once. You doubted Jungkook even had a deeper side to him until you both laid yourselves out in front of one another - little by little and without judgment or fear. You dreamed of the days the unraveling happened physically as well. When you’d see him during the days, and whether it was just the two of you or with your friends, it seemed as though the sun had an inkling of the bond that formed while she was away, shining a little brighter every time you saw his face, casting her beautiful golden rays onto the boy that shined just as brightly.

A confession forever rested on the tip of your tongue, ready to slip out whenever he flashed his bunny-toothed smile, scrunched up his perfectly round nose, or jokingly teased you. And yet… you never could say anything…. especially since you think you already did. It’s the real reason you vowed never to drink with Jungkook again - you could barely remember anything but the fleeting feeling of his lips on your forehead, being in his arms, and waking up in the morning in your underwear to see him shirtless on the floor beside the bed you lay on. Jungkook’s bed, you later found out - after a party he threw. You mainly remember walking into the kitchen and seeing his roommate and bestie Taehyung preparing breakfast in silence, which only made the morning more unbearable, given his god-awful cooking skills. You fled in minutes and, to this day, had no recollection or idea of what actually happened. Jungkook never said anything either, so you were certain you dreamt the entire ordeal. He stayed relatively the same, save for a few arm grazes that shocked you to your core - a little more than they used to. You almost consider forcing him to watch a K-drama or a horror film - just for the cuddle he'd end up giving you.

But you were here, watching him passionately wrap up a ballad and wiping away a tear that formed in his eye. He was unbelievable.

“I didn’t think she could make you cry.”

“Yeah, well, she sang the Titanic song too, didn’t she? Don’t you know me?”

“I do, Koo,” you whisper into the microphone he had handed you.

“It’s all coming back to me too. It all ends when I'm with you. And my heart will go on, Celine... You get me, Celine,” he utters as he plops down beside you, his hand outstretched behind you as he selected a song, neglecting Bam by his legs.

“Bam wants attention.”

“He always gets my attention,” Jungkook says, eyes fixated on the TV in front of him.

“I’m gonna use that line on you the next time you give me the eyes he’s giving you now.” Jungkook was always a master at pouting and the classic puppy-dog eyes, and in the split second he looked confused, you begin to wonder if it was never intentional. But he quickly looks at his pet and babies him when catching the dog’s neediness, giving you the freedom to grab the remote and pick a song.

“Remember, only pop queens,” he insists in a baby-like voice, his eyes and hands still on Bam. And you found just that - a playlist of nothing but tracks from pop queens, most on your regular playlist. Meaning you knew almost every word, and so did Jungkook. Two hours of singing later, Jungkook’s honey voice and your scratchy one both grew tired. Music videos it’d be, you thought - still in total control of the remote. By the third music video, you were bored - you’d seen them all before, while Jungkook - or more specifically, drunk Jungkook - was mesmerized. And in a flash you neglected the screen altogether, staring instead at the boy right beside you. With your hand on your chin, you study him. You never could when he was sober - his eyes would immediately find yours, and one of two things would happen next: you’d look away in embarrassment, or he’d would pull a funny face. But this was different. He was focused, well, as much as a drunk person could be, softly humming along or murmuring something about the camerawork or costume design - you could barely hear whatever it was he said. Sure, his face looked puffy and drunken, even in his dimly lit apartment…. but he was beautiful. He was beautiful in his side profile, his stare and concentration, the fluffiness of his hair, and the gigantic, soft, muscled arm he flexed beside you. He had no idea just how beautiful he was—just being.

You must’ve been staring for too long because Jungkook turns, catching you - as he always did. You expected it and waited for him to stick out his tongue jokingly, scrunch up his nose, or wiggle his brows… something goofy. The last thing you expected was the softest smile that crept up on his face - the wonder in his eyes remaining, the way you’d been looking at him. And just like that, you look away again, thinking you’d be able to stick it out this time and ignore his presence entirely or make a funny face of your own. You want to frown, but the stinging in your cheeks hurts too much from smiling at him.

“What’s up with you?” he giggles for a very brief moment before repeating the question with that same damn smile on his face. In your periphery, you see him ruffle his hair and you dig your nails into your skin to stop you from reaching out and doing the same.

“Nothing,” you let out, feeling his gaze on you as you looked towards the screen and Bam sleeping just beneath it. A whole music video later, the feeling of his eyes on you grew unbearable. He didn’t even look away when he continued to drink from the glass in his hands.

“Find something better to do, Koo,” you say, folding your arms and mustering up the courage to look at him.

“Hmmm?” the drunken, dazed smile on his face was goofier and sweeter than ever.

“I want a glass of water,” you say, looking towards the fridge, hoping he’d be a good host and stand up to get you one, finally breaking his gaze in the process.

“Well, I want you.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes. As if you weren’t being tortured enough by his adorableness already... did the flirty side have to make an appearance? But it wasn't a surprise. Jungkook flirted all the time, definitely more than usual when he’s tipsy. It was so excruciating that you damn near scolded Jimin and Chan, the friends he’d picked up the flirting from. All you wanted to say was that you wanted him too, but he’d never mean it the way you did. The giggle he let out when you rolled your eyes proved it - he just liked seeing you all riled up.

“I’m thirsty, JK,” you whine, but he keeps giggling. “Yah, drunk boy - get me a glass of water,” you insist, poking his tattooed arm and letting your finger rest there - he winces between his little laughs, touching the skin and a little of yours.

“Jungkoooook. Don’t ignore me,” you pout.

You don’t know what it is, but something about those three words makes Jungkook jump up from his spot, his laughter fading quickly as he walked over to the fridge, covering his face with his hands.

“Don’t do that,” he mutters.

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t…,” he starts before clearing his throat. “Don’t poke me like that. I’m old and sore now. Your Jungkook works hard in the gym and can’t handle it like he used to.”

Your Jungkook. If only you could send him off on another errand to make you forget about him and those words for a moment. But, alas, you were in his apartment. He was too drunk. Bam was stirring in his sleep.

Jungkook returns a freshly filled stein for himself, a glass of water for you.... and a pair of thin-rimmed glasses on his face. The ones he only ever wore at home, during your late-night visits, that none of his friends ever saw. The ones that always fed your delusions of the domestic days with Jungkook you wished you could have for the rest of your life.

“Sure, you don’t want a sip?” A frozen glass swings into your line of vision, snapping you out of your daze.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

“…..Shame…” he whispers into the glass as he chugged down half of its contents before setting it down and hiding his face in his arms, folded on the edge of the couch.

“Don’t judge me for not drinking. Just look at the state of you.”

“I’m not. It’s… it’s a shame that that’s what you’re the surest of. What happened to being sure of yourself, hmm?”

You weren’t in the mood for one of your deep talks, which was unusual for you. You usually would jump at any opportunity to talk to Jungkook, even when he was drunk - like the time he spat out a life lesson he learned in the third grade you’d never thought of in your entire life. He was the only person who ever made it safe enough for you to express your deepest fears and insecurities. His honest and supportive advice pushed you through. And you longed for the soft embrace he always gave you afterwards. It’s been weeks since you had one of those talks, days before the night/morning that was somewhere between a dream and a glitch in the matrix. But you couldn’t go there. You couldn’t bear to. Not tonight. Not with a drunk, floppy-haired, adorable, and out of-his-mind Jungkook that was adorable as ever, laying next to you singing pop ballads for hours. It’d have to wait.... even if he didn't want to.

“Tell me, what happened to being sure of yourself? Your thoughts, your ambition….your desires and feelings…” he slurs, waving his arm.

“I don’t know, Kookie,” you let out, grazing his arm. You can’t tell him that you’re sure you love him in more ways than one and that you’re not sure what to do about it.

“If you’re sure of something, act on it. If you’re not, still do it. Better to live with regrets with lessons learned than to never know,” he murmurs, his face resting on his elbow.

“So, can I commit a crime then?” you try to joke and change the mood.

“If you want to, sure. Oh, wait, don't. You've already committed one. I almost forgot," he nods, taking another sip of his beer. "You stole my heart."

"Fuck off," you laugh, reaching out to pinch his thigh instead of the arm he told you to avoid... "We'll talk about this another time, Kookie. Give me actual advice then."

"Okay, but I'll tell you some now. Try being sure of what you want in life. Act on it. Start that business you always wanted to. But I’m thinking.... start with.. a smaller step. Get that tattoo you always talked about. I’ll take you,” he says with a clear voice now, smiling as he looked up and brushed the inside of your arm, where you’d always talked about getting a tattoo. “I’m sure of what I want.”

“As always,” you say with a laugh. “What is it this time?”

“I told you. I want you.”

“Oh shut up,” you say, lightly shoving him this time, but he doesn’t budge, not even a little bit, nor does he giggle as he did earlier, just continues to stare at you and try to hold back…. something. You assume it’s a joke.

“Jungkook, stop - this isn’t funny.” You reply before you could even realize the words he’s saying.

“I’m not being funny.”

You stop and finally look at Jungkook’s face. He desperately tries to avoid your gaze but soon can’t help but look into your eyes - his were dilated and red from all the alcohol.

“You’re drunk,” you spit out, repeating the words softly.

“I am. But I’m sure of it when I’m sober, too,” he says, fidgeting with his fingers before playing with yours. “I’m sure that I want you. I was always sure. And I’m sure I want to hold your hand.” You can’t explain why you allow him to do so, knowing his state, and soon, his fingers find the ends of your hair and the base of your neck, grazing the skin there while his thumb rubs at your cheek. “I’m sure I want to -” he whispers against your lips, and you can’t help but jump at the very instance you feel his breath against your lips.

“Jungkook, no,” you lean back, holding the tears in your eyes and hoping he doesn’t feel the goosebumps on your skin. “Jungkook, you’re drunk.”

He immediately lets go of you, and you feel the world crumble in that brief moment, in fear you’d thrown away the only shot you had at the only thing you were sure you wanted, clinging onto the hope that he'll forget it all in the morning. But instead he shakes his head and looks… confused.

“It doesn’t go like this. This is weird,” he drawls, looking at his hands, you, Bam, and the rest of the apartment.

“What?” you say, just as confused as he seems to be, ignoring a sinking feeling in your stomach at the idea that Jungkook was confused his attempts at kissing girls never went “like this” - with a rejection that you didn’t want to give him.

“It doesn’t go like this! I’m… And you’re…. You’re here, but…. you’re not wearing any clothes. Why am I? Did we not get to that part of it yet?”

“Part of what?”

But Jungkook takes a look around the apartment again before quietly murmuring to himself. “This is a weird sex dream.”

Oh. OH.

He continues, thinking he's asleep.

“We’ve done this so many times, and it never went like this. I… Can’t you at least want me back in my dreams? Why… why is this dream different?”

”Jungkook…”

“Shhhh,” he lazily brings a finger to your lips. “Let me recap. It’s the same. My apartment’s the same. Why is Bam here? He’s usually in the other room. I’m here. You’re here. Wait…. are you?”

“I… I am, Jungkook.”

“No you’re not. You won’t be when I open my eyes.” he pouts, hiding his face in his elbow again.

“It’s like… It’s like that time I put you in bed when I found you drunk in your underwear in the corner at my party after you just… what did you do? Didn’t you say you just wanna dance in your underwear or some shit? Then you… said you wanted me to see you like that. I tried so fucking hard not to look. I put you to bed, and I at least expected to get some reality of waking up beside you, but… you weren’t there.

And I wanted to confess last night during karaoke, with all your favorite songs but... I didn't think I actually called you. It was just practice. Then I was so nervous I drank way, way too much, and I must've passed out. And now you're not even naked in my dreams - well, tonight's dream anyway... Is it because of the stress? And wait, why am I wearing glasses? I don't have you OR perfect vision in this dream?!" he pouts, taking off his glasses and throwing them across the couch before resting his head on his elbow, in his hands, and all over as he struggles with the realization.

Jungkook stays like that for a good minute, giving you time to take in the situation. Firstly, you’d never drink unsupervised at a party again because what the fuck… But you quickly remind yourself that it didn’t matter too much. He put you in bed. He saw you in your underwear and knew that you - or at least a part of you - wanted to be with him in that way. And not only that, he wanted to see you that way too. He wanted to wake up next to you. And Jungkook, awake and drunk, thought he was in a regular sex dream he had… with you…. and was upset at the idea of waking up without you beside him…. again. He wanted to confess. If his hands on your skin hadn't ignited your skin, the touch of him lingering there, you’d be certain you were dreaming too. He… he must’ve really been sure. Who were you to doubt that? He’s Jungkook.

Your hand reaches out to touch his face, not even knowing what you were about to say to him, but it didn’t matter. By the time you look back at him, he was already passed out, the pout still on his face, buried in his arms. Still beautiful. Any gentle attempt at waking him up proved to be futile - and more for you than it was for him. The cheek grazes, the head scratches, the arm squishes - finally yours to touch after he’d been flexing in his short-sleeves all night long. There was no way it hurt like it said he did. Standing up and tugging his arm until he got on his feet nearly did it, and you had to help his drunken and dazed self all the way to his bed. He was just awake enough to lie down on his own.

You stare at him on the bed below you, and with the quiet chirping of the birds outside his window and the early sunlight streaming in below his curtains…. you knew this was the most peaceful moment you had ever experienced in your life, so you took it all in. He'd forget about this tomorrow, but you'd remember it for the rest of your days.

When you suspected Jungkook finally drifted off to sleep again, you reluctantly turned away from the scene and made your way to his bedroom door.

“Stay.”

You’re unsure you heard correctly, but he repeats the word.

“Stay…. please.”

Turning back, you see Jungkook’s tattooed arm outstretched toward you. Inviting you in.

With the serenity of it all and your heart laid out in front of you, it was an offer you couldn’t refuse. Especially since he wasn’t the only one that was up all night. You turn over the covers, holding Jungkook’s hand before gently snuggling into his arms…. and just like that he passes out for real, a soft moan and a snore escaping him instantly. You could dash out. You could run, try to forget the night and hope he does too. But you don’t. Because he’ll wake up. Because he's sure. And because you’re sure too. And you’ll be there to tell him.

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mamaestapa · 8 months

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rutger making her squirt for the first time and ethan proudly watching and rutger being so shocked

when i first read this ask like weeks ago...i literally gasped. its so amazing and so omg. its so hot😩

ANYWAYS

you and ethan have been together since your freshmen year. you've been intimate countless times, done it on so many special and non-special occasions, multiple rounds, the whole nine yards, but he's never made you squirt before.

rutger did though.

you're leaning back into ethan's bare chest as rutger goes down on you. your hands are alternating between grabbing at ethans chest and tugging at rutgers hair, pushing him closer to your soaked and aching core.

youre a moaning mess as rutgers tongue flicks your clit before lapping generously at your folds with his skilled tongue, making sure to get every last drop of your sweetness on his tongue. ethan has taught him so well...

"look at her rut, look how worked up you've got her."

"she's so beautiful, god and those sounds she makes"

you're whimpering and writhing at the feeling of rutgers tongue and fingers pleasuring you in ways you've never been pleasured before. he's teasing you, edging you so much that you know once that coil in your belly snaps its going to be one of the best orgasms of your life. as rutgers eating you out like a starved man, ethan is kissing your neck and playing with your nipples because he knows that gets you even more worked up. he loves the pretty sounds you make during sex, rutger does too.

eventually once the time comes and that coil finally snaps, it snaps. you let your orgasm completely take over your body and youre so blissed out you dont even realize what's happening.

rutger made you squirt for the first time.

ethan is just proud. proud of rutger and proud of you. your chest is heaving like crazy as you come down from your high, and rutger is panting as he sucks your juices off of his fingers and lips.

"woah that was fucking hot"

"damn rut, you just made my girlfriend squirt"

"i did?"

"hell yeah you did. atta boy."

(GUYS THIS LITERALLY MADE ME AHHHHHHHHHH🫠)

#asks #digital animal asks #digital animal au #ethan e asks #rutger m asks #this was the hottest ask ive ever received #thank you anon omg

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mineyneedsmoney · 5 months

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So LISTEN. I was thinking about how it makes sense we got bi buck first ( even though it was supposed to be Eddie and Tommy) So if Eddie figured out his sexuality and got with Tommy. They would definitely be the endgame and no buddie!! cuz we know Eddie likes to commit to things and people.

BUT since buck and Tommy are together it makes more sense that they won't be the end game ( sorry not sorry) because buck only commits very FEW people. Two of them being Chris and Eddie

WALK WITH ME HERE

So like bucktommy breaks up buck will be super sad cuz he really liked tommy and they even moved in together. Now buck will think that he is not made for any relationship doesn't matter which gender and be depressed asffff

Sooo Eddie will be there and comfort him. Buck moves in with Eddie's temporality ( but they both high-key enjoy it) . Buck will realize Eddie has always been there for him and that he is in loooooveee. Buck is HURTTT because Eddie is super straight and in a relationship.

Then he will distance himself from Eddie because he can't just pretend that everything is fine and he doesn't want to ruin their friendship. Here is where Eddie misses buck depending on him lil too much and being in his life every damm second!?! He is like it is Buck, it has always been buck!! but he is also terrified

Buck becomes like buck 1.0 and Eddie HATES ITTT

they have a nasty nasty fight one day when buck forgets he was supposed to take Chris to the zoo

and and aaaaandddd Eddie screams at buck "WHY CAN'T WE GO BACK TO HOW WE USED TO BE!!?"

And buck scram's back " BECAUSE EVERY TIME I'M NEAR YOU I CAN'T FUCKING BREATHE !! I JUST WANNA KISS YOU AND IT'S DRIVING ME CRAZY!!"

It gets QUIETT and buck instantly regrets ittt.

He says " fuuck eds. I did ruin our friendship didn't I? ( Unable to make eye contact with Eddie) "

Eddie slams ( not hard) buck into the wall and says "yes you fucking did, you ruined everything" and KISSES BUCK

Then says " and I love it" annnd they live happily after

AHHHHHHHHHH AHHHHH

#buddie #911 #buck #evan buckley #oliver stark #911 abc #eddie diaz #ryan guzman #buck and eddie #lemme cook #fanfic

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softhairedhotch · 10 months

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DUDEEEE HELLO??:!:!::&: PLEASE I LOVE YOU, YOUR WONDERFUL BRAIN N UR RESPONSES???!! like sometimes i think damn my thoughts r sooooo filthy i wonder if anyone would even feel the same like am i crazy :-///.... THEN UR REPLIES JUST FUELS ME EVEN MORE ARGHRHHHHH LIKE??? im so glad we have the same brain like damn... i love talking abt him hehe rly.. thank u for entertaining my thoughts n making it even more amazing <333 also i hope u are feeling better now!!! 🫂🫂 tbh i feel the same bc the idea of aaron has made me feel better so many times n it's years since i started liking him :-(((( fr i never ever regret starting this show n falling in love w him 😭😭😭

"imagine just sitting there with him fully inside you, tie in your mouth, head on his broad shoulder, one of his big warm hands occasionally rubbing up and down your back as you hear the other write away" ‼️‼️‼️ PLEASEEEE omfg he'd feel so good and he'd make you feel sooooo safe 😭😭😭 i need this so badly . being on his lap would literally make all the painful noisy thoughts in your head go silent because all you can think about and feel is him <3333 though i don't know how i'd be able actually to be quiet n not be reduced into a whimpering mess because GODDDDDD HE'S JUST SOOOO..... my god. if u do turn this into a fic i'd probably be reading it 9784953 times n manifesting it to appear in my dreams 🙏🙏

and OOOOOFFFFFFFFF cannot decide if i would want him to make a mess all over me and use his thick fingers to scoop it up and shove it into my mouth or have him cum deep in my throat ! 😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫 like man.... the idea of messy wet sex drives me insane like having him a panting sweaty mess 🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️ n downright filthy cum eating . like my thoughts abt it are ENDLESS n its literally a can of worms im afraid of opening-- AWOEKFJFKEKD thinking abt that episode when aaron jumps into a lake to chase an unsub n he comes out of the water all WET N THE WATER DRIPPING DOWN HIS SKIN??? I CANT REMEMBER WHAT EPISODE IT IS BUT I THINK U KNKW WHAT IM REFERRING TO???

omfggggg when he's ruthlessly riding you and jerking himself off, his chest would get soooo red and it'll feel soo nice to run your fingers down his body and literally worship every inch of him 😵‍💫 he'd look soooo pretty with little marks over his chest as you shower him with praises... thinking about praising aaron HEEEEHEHEH he'd get sooo shy n flustered the first few times but slowly he'd get used to it and literally bask in the attention n praises 😭😭

my god n i must say u rly perfected his voice n what he would say......i swear my love for aaron not only solidified my kink for suits but also... voice 😵‍💫😵‍💫🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️🧎‍♂️ like it makes me think how he'd react the first time when he realised how much power he has over you just from his voice and words alone.... like first he'd be confused why your reaction sometimes gets a lil funny but then his expression darkens when finally he realises. but he likes building up material to tease you later on so he doesn't really point it out at first but just has an amused smile.

then imagine one night being on a phone call with him as he just talks about his day and that it's pretty late at night so his voice starts getting huskier bc he's tired.... and he's just rambling about something unrelated but you feel the heat crawling up your neck because he just sounds so good . you can't help but clench your thighs and swallow your saliva. then he asks you a question but you're SO distracted that you miss it and when you finally answer him, your voice shakes. he goes silent before breaking into a low laugh because he recognises that tone of voice and picks up your breathing. "oh my, baby... i don't even need to see your face to know what's up. here am i trying to tell you about my day... but you just can't help yourself, hm? ...pathetic."

YEAHHHHHH 😭😭😭😭

- 🤲

AHHHHHHHHHH SDJFHSJDF THANK YOU hehehehehe n YEAH I GETCHA, I BE THINKING "oh GOD what if what i say is too weird???" n then you get back to me with basically the SAME THING AHHHHH i'm sooo happy we be thinking the same thoughts LMAO. and thank you sm <33

YESSSSS HE'D MAKE YOU FEEL SO SAFE FR <333 i wanna sit on his lap soooo so so much, god it'd be so good. i would love to write it as a fic tbh but i just have sooooo much to work on already UGHHH why is writing so hard and time-consumingggggg

REALLLLL I WANT BOTH !!! n oPEN THAT CAN OF WORMS RN CUM EATING IS SOOOOOOOO HOT I SWEAR DDSKFSK AHHHHH AND YES YES YE S I KNOW EXACTLY WHAT SCENE YOU'RE REFERENCING

OUGHHH HE'S SO BEAUTIFUL FUCKKK

yessss he'd looook so pretty riding youuu <33 all red and sweaty and a whimpering panting mess oughhh i love it i love him sm n yessssss i wanna praise him sooo bad. like if you praised him he just WOULDN'T KNOW WHAT TO DO but then as he gets used to it, he loooooves it and craves it ough

hehe thank you!! N YEAH VOICE KINK AND SUIT KINK GO BRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR 🤭🤭 he'd get sooooo cocky knowing he has sm control over you oughhh and he'd be so proud of himself knowing he can get you to do almost anything with just his voice n pretty face

STOPPPP I'VE HAD THE EXACT SAME IDEA AND STARTED IT AS A FIC ONCE BUT NEVER GOT AROUND TO IT KSDFJK i loooooooove the idea of calling him on a case and he's just like. tired but tryna talk n his voice is sooooo deep and gravelly and it sounds so hot (bc sleepy/morning voices might be one of the best things in existence <33) and he notices you trailing off your sentences and stuttering a bit and going quiet and he just KNOWS what he's doing to you and he teases you relentlessly <33 he'd either get you all hot and bothered n then tell you that you gotta be patient and wait til he gets home orrrrrr he'll go "do you think you can show me how much of an effect i have on you, sweetheart?" and when you send him a pic he'd hum in appreciation and tell you how pretty/handsome you are and how he's gonna make you feel real good when he gets home but for now he's gonna talk you through making yourself feel good <33 maybe you can hear him letting out cute lil moans as he tells you how he wants you to touch yourself and your stomach drops when you realise he's getting off on it too and you ask him to send a pic of himself and he does and he looks sooooo good <33

also i gotta ask,,, how do you feel about daddy kinks LMAOOO bc i haven't thought about it much relating to aaron lately tbh but when i first got into him two years ago, all i could think was him saying stuff like "let daddy make you feel good, hm?" or "you wanna touch daddy?" n stuff like that,, are you into that?? i'm leaning more toward softer aaron n bottom aaron lately but godddd soft daddy dom aaron is soooooooo <333

#🤲 anon #casks #casper's anons #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x male reader #put a read more bc i dont like filling up peoples dashes too much lol

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kyberblade · 2 years

Text

Back To You (Din x Reader) - Part 16

A/N: Whew. This is 100% my own brain child, as in no show plots. It’s just domestic fluff and fluff fluff and action and shenanigans and revelations and ahhhhhhhhhh! I hope you enjoy. There is no show dialogue in this one. (ALSO! Episode 3 tonight?! And also my return from the world of shadow silence…. We’re celebrating a lot here today!) 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 is in between episode 2x5/13, The Jedi, and episode 2x6/14, The Tragedy.)

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.

Word count: 17,396 (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.

Thank you to @fordo-kixed-rex for your endless hours helping me over goodness knows how long since I started this, helping me come up with SW-sy names, for reading this over for me and letting me know I’m not crazy. And @deceiver-of-gods for helping with the Mando’a. (Any mistakes are my own.) (Also, Huttese is a crazy hard language and I don’t know why it’s Din’s go to.)

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Xxx

The Crest was orbiting Tatooine, some final checks in progress as you watched Din from your copilot’s seat.

Grogu babbled something quietly from his seat to your right, making incessant grabby gestures toward the crate at your feet you’d brought up from the lower level. Soft grunts of frustration painted his string of gibberish in his efforts now and then.

Looking down to the box, amusement colored your features. “What, ad’ika? You want one of these?” Reaching down you pulled up a ration packet, holding it between your thumb and index finger tantalizingly. Letting it dangle as his eyes grew wider, darting between you and the packet and back again in a never ending circuit, you laughed softly. (“Little one.”)

“Here you go.” Tearing it open, you handed it to him, stopping just short of his outstretched hands and pulling it back a little. Eyebrow raised, you tilted your head down to look down your nose in warning. “Slow.”

Grogu just closed his mouth, his large eyes blinking up at you in understanding as he gently took the packet, making one last circuit between it and you before plopping into his seat with a soft coo. He ate like it had been months since the last time, not a handful of minutes, making you shake your head before settling back in your seat.

“Why are you feeding him?”

Din’s voice pulled your attention to him, your head snapping up from looking at your lap as you brushed crumbs from the packet away. “Oh, this is just a snack. I already gave him dinner an hour ago.”

A moment of silence settled between you before Din sighed heavily, his shoulders rising and falling with the effort. “I gave him dinner two hours ago,” he said, voice resigned as his head tilted to the side.

All you could do was blink. “Din, two hours ago we were loading up the Crest in Peli’s hangar. The hour before that we were in the market for last minute supplies, I got him fresh food there. Three whole frogs. He’d already eaten.”

After another long moment as Din looked between the child while he munched away happily, then back to you, he sighed yet again. Bringing his right hand up to worry back and forth against his forehead, the leather of his glove squeaked against the beskar with each pass. “Well he sure was acting hungry.”

You nodded, trying not to smile like you wanted to, everything about this conversation amusing you more than it should. “Yeah, acting.” Looking over at the tiny green gremlin, the smile won over as it climbed up the side of your face. “I've said it before, and l'lI say it again - where does it all go?”

“What if he's having a growth spurt?”

Turning back to face Din, you studied his body language, not sure if he was joking or not. His voice sounded serious enough, but that could just be sarcasm - he tended to do that. Often. And sometimes his dry tone just came off as not so much a joke, but entirely serious. It could lead to some hilarious moments, but right now, it just made your head hurt. He gave away nothing in his posture, sitting mostly relaxed like normal in his seat, so you just decided to go with it.

“He's a fifty year old man. How much growing does he have left in him? Look at him.” You gestured to the tiny green ward as he disappeared inside the ration packet to get the crumbs at the very bottom. “How tall is he going to grow that he needs,” glancing down at the crate, you did some quick math before lifting your gaze back to his visor, “seven ration packets in that amount of time?”

“You don't know,” he was quick to answer.

Doing a double take as you went to look back at the kid, you raised your brows at him, your voice miraculously low and even. “I know enough.”

“Do you?”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you leaned back in your seat, getting comfortable. The way your head was tilted back against the headrest, you were looking down your nose at Din. “Well neither do you, if that's your argument.”

Din’s voice was eerily calm. “I'm not arguing.”

You couldn’t help but snort out a laugh, letting your eyes close for a moment as your head lolled to the side, facing the kid before you turned a sarcastic glare back on your Mandalorian. “This is the definition of arguing, Din.”

“I…”

A small plop drew both of your attention away, looking down to find the kid had dropped out of his seat, had pulled another packet out of the crate, and was trying to make a getaway with it; standing in the middle of the cockpit with a packet almost bigger than he was.

You both said firmly in unison, “No!”

Grogu froze, turning to face you both and promptly falling into a seated position on the floor. Slowly he pulled the packet closer to his chest, looking between the two of you with large seemingly innocent eyes that only blinked maybe twice as they peered into your souls.

“Kid…” Din’s exasperated sigh made you roll your eyes, turning your focus back on him as you sat on the edge of your seat facing sideways toward the child.

“Din, that's not going to do anything.”

He threw his hands up in the air, letting them slap back down on his thighs loudly as he leveled the stare of his visor on you. “Then you try, oh wise one.”

Making a face at him that was probably childish, to which he slightly tilted his head in response, you did what he asked. “Grogu. Hey. You don't need- Grogu?”

When you turned, you found an empty cockpit, no child, no packet, just the tips of his ears disappearing below the hatch to the lower level. “Great. You scared him off, Din.” You copied him, tossing your hands up and letting them come down with a slap.

“I- No, you- This....” The following silence was so intense, it had to be something they taught him in Mandalorian training.

Soft cries of frustration came from below as you knew Grogu was trying to wrestle the packet open, but you used it as unneeded fuel for the fire. “Look what you did now, you've upset him.”

The scathing look you could feel along the lines of your face from under the helmet was not something you would forget anytime soon. It was so intense, so practiced, it had to be the second step they taught all young Mandalorians, right after silence.

Then came the third step, which you had no doubt Din himself probably taught other Mandalorians. Turning quickly in the pilot’s seat, he faced the controls, every line of him rigid as he jabbed at some buttons unnecessarily, the ship still floating aimlessly in orbit. The silence was thick as he pouted for a long moment.

Finally, taking a deep breath, you sighed. “Look. Just... Just tell me the next time you feed him, okay? In fact, tell me every time. I'll tell you, too. That way we don't run out of supplies, and he doesn't turn into a BB droid, rolling around here.”

Din’s body deflated as he chuckled softly, giving his head a gentle shake at the mental image you’d painted.

Smiling, you went on. “After all, these are the types of things you should probably tell your wife….”

He groaned, tossing his head back against the seat and giving it another gentle shake as he stared at the ceiling.

“I mean, that’s the kind of thing she deserves to know.”

“Will you drop it already?” Din turned his visor toward you. “Please?” His voice was somewhere between annoyed and pleading. “I’ve told you, it was just a slip up, I didn’t…. There’s a lot more…. It’s a much more involved process if that were ever to really happen.”

“Well good,” you gave him one single nod in a definitive end to the conversation, and he turned back to the console after returning it tentatively. You smirked as you added, “Because I’m not that easy.”

He deflated, his shoulders slumping forward as a breath rushed out of him, his hands flattening against the console as he leaned into it slightly.

Din visibly relaxed, his head coming down, beskar clad forehead thumping once softly on the console between his hands when you quietly concluded with a grin, “Now I’m done.”

“Thank you,” he mumbled against the controls, his vocoder gently buzzing against the hard surface. Lifting his head suddenly as he took a deep breath, he resumed his assessment of various buttons and switches like always, as if nothing had happened.

“Where do we go after Tython?” You asked gently, settling back into your chair with a quiet huff of air.

Grogu squeaked in distress from below, so you reached out your hand, a lone packet flying up the ladder into your palm with ease. An indignant squawk floated up through the opening shortly after to meet it, and you turned your head toward the hatch ever so slightly. “I’m opening it for you, ad’ika. This is your last one.” Tearing it open, you mumbled, “Maybe for your life, I haven’t decided. At least for today.”

Din chuckled, making you smile as you continued. “You want some? Come back up here. That little evasive maneuver was impressive, but I want you where I can see you.”

Companionable silence settled between you while you waited for a response from the kid. Finally, you mumbled to Din with a wink, “Kaysh guur' skraan.” (“He loves his food.”)

“Kaysh emuuri epar,” he agreed. (“He likes to eat.”)

Babbling that sounded an awful lot like grumbling began to get slowly closer, so you nodded for Din to continue.

“I don’t know. I had hoped maybe we could talk with the Mandalorians, if we could find them, and they would have more information. I still believe-”

“Oh!” Your eyes wide, you stared vacantly through the viewport before they scrunched up tight and your palm came up to smack your forehead. Cradling your head in your hand, you rolled it slowly back and forth as you mumbled, “I can’t believe I didn’t think of it sooner.”

“Of what?” Din’s words registered just as you felt a tiny tug on your pant leg. Looking down, you saw Grogu looking up at you somewhat sheepishly, his large eyes blinking a bit too much as he worried his lips in a meek expression.

Offering him a soft smile, you lowered the packet down to him, laughing quietly at the pure joy that overtook his face, and the eagerness he snatched the packet with. Not even bothering to get back in his chair, he plopped down where he was and dug in.

Meeting Din’s patient gaze again, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “I know someone on Coruscant who might know where some Mandalorians are. Or at least something about them.”

“How?” You’d half expected him to sound accusatory or suspicious, but he just seemed genuinely curious.

“His name is Nem, a patron at the bar. He works seasonally on some backwater forest planet…. Sorgan?” Din sat up straighter, but you thought nothing of it. “Then comes back for a few months, always stops in for a drink. In fact, once he told me all about a Mandalorian in shiny armor who helped a local village fend off raiders, not knowing I knew said Mando.” You grinned, leaning in almost conspiratorially. “Or that he came into the bar right after him.”

Din’s breathing had gotten rapid, but he said nothing. So after you narrowed your eyes at him for a moment, waiting, you went on.

“Said something about how the Mando had a child and almost ended up staying in the village long term.” You looked up at him curiously. “I hadn’t met the kid yet, so I didn’t know what to think at that point, but I remember feeling kinda sad that I….” Turning your attention down to Grogu for something easier to focus on, you swallowed once, your voice dropping slightly. “Like I almost lost you.” Lifting your eyes back to his visor after a moment, you couldn’t help the sad smile. “If you’d stayed there, I wouldn’t have seen you anymore.”

He was quick to try and fix things, jumping in with, “I would have-” but you didn’t let him get far.

“Din, I’m not stupid. I know you….” You looked at your hands in your lap, your voice small. “I’m sure she was worth it.”

Silence. More silence. It was stifling and thick, and so quiet it was loud. It filled the cockpit in an instant and seemed to suck out all the air, everything you needed to breathe, to exist comfortably gone faster than a sigh. Even the Crest seemed to know, the beeping of instruments seemingly quieted to honor this mandated…. silence.

Finally something breaks, something gives, coloring the air with the sound of life, the contours of living. Din took a deep breath, then paused, like he didn't actually know what to say. His gloves creaked as his hands opened and closed in nerves, winding tighter each time. Finally, he found what he was looking for somewhere, his hands opening, fingers spread wide, his voice uncharacteristically low and quiet.

“There…. There was a widow. She took care of Grogu like her own, her daughter loved him, and he didn’t stop smiling the whole time we were there. Things just…. Worked.” He slowly sat back in his seat, hands smoothing up along the beskar on his thighs, contemplating his next words. Finally, he looked at you again, his head cocked to the side just slightly as he continued honestly. “I thought about staying….” That’s as long as he could hold your gaze before he turned back to look across the cockpit at nothing in particular. “But in the end I decided to leave Grogu there, where he was happy. He doesn’t deserve this life….” Din stared straight forward for a long moment, his hand clenched into a tight fist where it rested on his thigh. “And I don’t deserve that one.”

Before you could say anything to disagree, he went on.

“Omera agreed to take him in while I left. To continue to care for him as if he were her own.” He stopped, his shoulders sagging slightly as he realized what he’d let slip.

“That was her name?” Din seemed stuck, so you repeated it quietly. “Omera?” He nodded after a moment of hesitation, making you smile softly, your voice low to match. “Omera,” you whispered the name again, letting it settle comfortably under your skin. “Beautiful.”

Din shifted in his seat before he continued. “But then a hunter found us, and the kid wasn’t safe anywhere. And everyone there was in danger if we stayed.” He turned back to the viewport. “So we left.”

Watching the stars crawl lazily by, you let the silence sit between you until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“Nem also mentioned you were with a Rebel Dropper from Alderaan….” Your eyes must have widened comically large as you turned back up toward his visor, his chair swiveling slowly toward you with a long sigh. “Was that Cara?”

He nodded, his head lolling back against the headrest of his seat with a soft thump.

You began to giggle. “He mentioned that the people said you had a very…. Abrupt personality.” He grunted. “I’m going to have to ask Cara about this next time we see her.” He sighed again, his head hanging slightly with a gentle shake making you begin to smile. “In the meantime, we have to get in contact with Nem. The only way I know how is at the bar. He’s due to stop by anytime now-”

“No. It’s too dangerous.” Din’s visor was leveled on you, keeping you pinned to your chair before you could get to your feet.

“Din, come on!” You protested. “I can finally help!” Standing, you began to pace the small expanse of the cockpit, arms gesturing as you spoke. Grogu looked up at you from his perch on the floor while he continued to munch away. “We could make a plan past Tython in case that doesn’t work out. If you're worried about fuel, I have some more credits stored in my apartment - Don’t look at me like that. You don’t live in that part of town and not take some precautions. I will grab them.”

Din rose to his feet, stopping you from continuing your back and forth in the limited space. “Someone could be watching-”

“Then you can watch for me.” You smirked. Turning, you waved your hand for the doors to open to the hatch, Din right on your heels.

“And what if someone comes for you?”

Scooping up the kid who clutched his packet tightly to his chest, you started down the ladder toward the lower level, pausing just before you were too low to meet Din’s gaze one more time. “You do what you do best.”

Xxx

Walking along the lower levels of Coruscant, the grimy streets and heavy air surrounded you at every turn, and you’d never wished to be away from it more. Having finally experienced fresh air and space, this entire planet felt like a prison now. You understood Din’s distaste a little bit more.

He had left Grogu on the ship, both of you opting to get in and get out as fast as you could, stopping by your apartment first. Din was right on your heels, keeping his head on a swivel and your arm in his grip, ready to pull you behind him and to cover at a moments notice.

Stopping a few feet in front of your building, you narrowed your eyes at a woman watching you intently a short ways down the walkway.

Din’s hand slowly left your arm and moved to his blaster, but you reached out to stop him, your hand over his.

“Mom?”

You felt him freeze under your touch. “Your mother?” His voice was in your ear.

The woman said your name barely above a whisper, her voice weak in disbelief.

“Mama!” You breathed, rushing over and wrapping her in a firm embrace.

“Oh!” She grunted in surprise, voice strained as she laughed softly. “A little too tight, firefly.” In your peripherals you saw Din tilt his head just slightly at the endearment.

“What are you doing here?” You mumbled into her shoulder, not ready to let go.

Her hand smoothed over your back comfortingly. “I come by here sometimes hoping I’ll see you.”

Releasing your mother, you went to introduce her to Din, but she was quick to stop you, waving her hand for you to hush. “It’s not safe for you here.” Her eyes darted into all the dark corners as she spoke, waiting for something. “If I thought of looking here, so have they.”

You narrowed your brows in question, stepping closer to her as you lowered your voice further. “Who is ‘they’?” Din’s hand softly came to rest on your lower back.

Looking both ways with wide eyes, her gaze finally landed on you, darting to the Mandalorian at your back before coming back to you. “I assume you came here on a commercial flight?”

Closing your eyes as you tried to wrap your mind around the change of subject and gently shaking your head, you raised one brow skeptically as you peered at her. “No, we have our own ship. Well, he does. I pilot it sometimes, though.”

She smiled, her demeanor softening for a moment, the tension easing from her shoulders as she stood taller. “You finally learned how to fly. Your father would be so proud.”

The thought of your father right now amused you, thinking of him standing here, as he stood toe to toe with Din, leaning his head back to hold his gaze. Hands probably on his hips as he issued some absurd warning only the truly brave or truly stupid would say to a Mandalorian. “How is dad?”

“I’ll meet you on your ship.” She turned to look at Din straight on for the first time in this conversation, without a single flinch. “Where are you docked?”

He looked at you before answering. “Lower levels, not far from the bar.”

“I know the one,” she instantly confirmed, shooing both of you back across the street. “I’ll meet you there later and bring your father.”

Din nodded, telling her the number of the spot he docked in. Standing back upright, he looked side to side every few seconds as he ushered you to the other side of the street.

“So what, we just go wait on the ship now?”

He merely nodded again, making you roll your eyes as you turned back to face forward, his hand once again on your lower back, gently guiding you toward the Crest.

“Yay,” you mumbled sarcastically.

Xxx

As you walked through the rows of ships toward the Crest, silence wrapped around both of you like a blanket. But not a warm, comforting feeling like the one you kept in the cockpit, no. This was nearly suffocating, too tight and constricting, heavy.

“Din-”

“Slana. Kemi ogir,” he said in a low voice near your ear, cutting you off with a slight gesture forward with his head, his grip on your arm tightening. (“Go. Walk there.”)

“Me'bana?” You lowered your voice to match, keeping the slight stumble from your stride as you tried to keep up with his quick steps. The switch to Mando’a was second nature, now. (“What's happening?”)

He hesitated for a moment before lowering his voice further, so much so, you could barely hear him. “Ashnar ru’shekemi mhi.” (“Someone has followed us.”)

“Osik!” You hissed, starting to turn to look over your shoulder. (“Shit!”)

He gripped your arm tighter, giving it a firm tug back towards him, making you face back forward. “Don’t turn around. They don’t know we know yet.”

Your face screwed up in confusion. “How do you know?”

Din pressed something on the side of his helmet for his display as he explained, “They keep getting closer. No one who knows their target knows they’re there gets that close. That’s just stupid.”

You let out a soft snort through your nose. “Not everyone is you, Din.”

He turned to look at you for the first time in the conversation. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You shrugged, turning to meet his gaze with a small smile. “Not everyone will do the smart thing.”

He looked back forward with a sigh. “Unfortunately.”

Still looking at him, your smile grew. “I think you mean fortunately. If everyone did the smart thing, we’d be in so much more trouble, and you’d be out of a job.”

“You make a good point,” Din muttered quietly after a moment, making you chuckle.

Turning your focus back forward after a quick glance to your side, you fell in step with Din once again. “Vaabi meg gar vaabi.” You jutted your chin to the side to indicate what you meant. (“Do what you do.”)

His visor turned almost imperceptibly to the right, before coming back onto you, his grip tightening further. “Keep walking, go past the Crest. When we’re one ship away, shoot one of your whistling bird blanks at the panel under the cockpit. It’s still loose, and it’ll fall, distracting them long enough for me to disappear. I’ll get behind them, take care of it. Just keep walking. Whatever you do, don’t look back.”

You stopped moving to stare at him, but he kept pulling you along. “Why? Din, I’ve seen you do worse before. I’ve done worse before.”

His modulator was right by your ear as he kept his voice low. “That was out of necessity. This is-”

“Also necessary.” You didn’t bother to keep your voice low anymore.

“For me.” That was the same tone he’d used when you’d accidentally pushed him on Nevarro and he’d told you to get on the ship, the one you’d only ever heard for bounties. He sighed, his voice softening. “Mesh’la, please. For me. I’m just trying to protect you. Listen just this once.”

You turned only your eyes over to look at him, his visor studying the side of your face intently. “Fine.”

“Thank you,” he rushed out.

“Just this once,” you whispered as you held up a finger close to his visor, the side of your mouth tugging up in a betrayal of the threat.

He let out a soft huff in amusement. “Keep walking until I come get you.”

It takes you a moment to get out a quiet, “And if you don’t?” Your accusing finger once wagging in his face now fell slowly to your side, your hand hanging limply at your side, feeling as useless as the rest of you currently did.

His head tilted to the side just slightly. “Like you said, I’ve done worse. This will be easy.” The Crest was two ships away now. “I’ll be right back.”

Moving as subtly as possible, you reached across your body, pressing the buttons on your vambrace to lower the ramp, trying to stick to routine. Stopping it after a foot or so, Din moved completely behind you, hissing, “Now!”

Flicking your wrist down sent your vambrace whirring, one blank whistling bird flying for the belly of the ship. The panel fell with a loud clatter, Din disappearing in the cacophony that followed. Emergency lights shot on around all parts of the Crest, white vapor shooting out from the panel filling the area. Looking up toward the cockpit, you saw a tiny green face you’d know anywhere smooshed against the viewport, his hands on either side of his head as his breaths puffed against the transparisteel.

You could either seal the ship back up and do what Din asked, keep moving, or you could….

Following your gut with a gentle shake of your head, you lowered the ramp of the Crest just enough for you to jump up onto it, sealing it shut with a hiss behind you. You darted the rest of the way up to the cockpit, scooping the kid out of the window as he watched the commotion unfold below. Muffled grunts and flashes from blasters filled the ship from outside, so you dropped to the lower level.

“Hey, kid. We’re gonna play a game.” He squirmed in your arms, reaching toward the cockpit with one hand, his eyes darting between you and the hatch leading up.

Holding up his little round ball between your thumb and index finger like you had the ration packet earlier in the day, you smirked when he settled down, focusing on the way the low lights of the ship caught its reflective surface.

“I want you to do what Ahsoka asked you to do.” Setting him in his hammock, you took a few steps back, holding the ball up tantalizingly.

A loud thud sounded from outside, something slamming into the hull of the Crest near the ramp. It made you jump, the kid’s head turning to the sound in concern, but when you reached out to feel for Din, he was smug, making you roll your eyes. He’d done the throwing not the slamming.

Resting your dominant hand on your blaster, ready to draw, you floated the ball to Grogu with your other. He caught it with a soft squeal. “Now, give it here, kid.” You made a grabby hand toward him, making him giggle quietly.

The ball floated toward you slowly as the ramp began to lower with a low whirr. “Keep going, kid.” You kept your voice encouraging, your attention on him with your hand extended for the little orb. Your other hand slowly drew your blaster, arming it and pointing it at the rapidly descending ramp.

“Grogu,” you drew his attention back to you. “Keep your eyes on me, ad’ika.” (“Little one.”)

His eyes kept darting between the ramp and you, the ball still slowly turning in the air like a miniature planet, suspended halfway between you, stuck where he’d lost his concentration for a moment. “Sur'ar.” (“Focus.”)

Turning your body just slightly more toward the ramp, moving just a step to the left to block more of Grogu from whoever was coming up, you turned your gaze toward the sound of footsteps. Watching as the face of a man you didn’t recognize appeared, you straightened your spine, finger hovering over the trigger, ready…. Then the body crumpled to the ground, revealing Din standing easily behind the man, hand on his hip as he took in the scene.

You, the child, a ball floating between you that suddenly dropped to the floor and rolled to a stop at the toe of his boot. Looking down at it, Din stooped to pick it up, tucking it into his belt, ignoring the kid’s squawk of outrage. Turning back to you, his weight shifted to one leg. “Is there a reason a blaster is still pointed at me?”

Blinking a few times, you shook your head to clear it, holstering your weapon. “I was just being safe.”

“It would have been safer if you had done what I asked you to,” he grunted, dragging the body over to his carbonite chamber.

Watching for a long minute, it’s painfully obvious, so you don’t really know why you ask, “What’re you doing?”

Din’s sigh says he agrees with you, but he answers anyway, “This one’s had a bounty on him for a few years. Gonna collect. Not going to let that go to waste.”

You nodded. Suddenly feeling the urge to explain yourself, you took a deep breath before beginning. “I came up here because the kid was watching you from the cockpit-”

“He’s seen worse.” Such a simple answer. Somewhat crude, actually. It seemed out of character for…. No, it definitely was.

After staring at him for a moment, you scoffed. “So have I, Din. In fact, that was my argument not ten minutes ago.”

His shoulders went stiff, a heavy sigh leaving him. “It’s different.” He kept his back to you as he prepped the chamber, but you didn’t miss the small wayward glance he sent you over his shoulder before his spine straightened further and he turned back to the panel.

The air was charged between you, something brewing just under the surface. Your hands came to your hips like his had. “No, it’s not.”

As the carbonite hissed, filling the hull with vapor, Din crossed over to the bunk, closing the door as Grogu babbled. With a press of a button on his vambrace, the ramp began to close, and soon after it sealed, both of you were left in complete silence, staring at one another.

After a long moment, he spoke in a tone that was void of any particular emotion. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he was a droid. “I need you to do what I ask, mesh’la. It’s only to make sure you’re safe.”

“You don’t need to keep protecting me, Din!” Tossing your arms out and letting them come back down to your sides with a slap in exasperation, you kept your gaze firmly on him. “I can take care of myself. You taught me how.”

Something cracked, his posture breaking down just a bit, the rigidity dissolving under your words. “That’s not-” he groaned in frustration, turning and taking a few steps before turning back to face you again. His voice was lower, full of emotion, too many to name. “I can’t protect you from me.”

Fear. You realized all the emotions swirling in his words came together to paint one singular thing you never thought you’d ever associate with Din. It was unnerving to say the least, and it left you feeling broken, that he would ever be afraid of anything, much less when it came to you.

Staring at him for another long moment, you finally found the words that seemed to fit next. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He began pacing again, hands gesturing with small, precise gestures that made you think of things you’d see a commanding officer use to communicate in the field with fellow soldiers. “Everything I taught you was to keep you safe with me. We get into some questionable situations and I need to know you’ll be walking back onto the ship with me at the end of it all.” He sighed again, his shoulders slumping forward in defeat. Stopping his back and forth, Din faced you, his gestures now a bit broader, looser, but less emphatic. “But you’ve never seen me doing what I did before you came on the ship.”

You were smiling. This was ridiculous. “How is that different-”

“It just is!” His voice was raised, his breathing coming in heavy pants like this topic winded him. He didn’t turn away again, staying where he was, but he seemed broader, like he was staring down a threat. And in a way he was. If he couldn’t keep you safe, from himself or anything else, that was his biggest fear, and the thing he wanted to scare off the most.

The smile slipped off your face, furrowed brows replacing it. Closing the distance and reaching a hand toward him, he took a step back, almost flinching away from you, making you freeze.

“There’s a difference. It’s….” His body was turned to the side to face away from you, his visor looking at your feet. His voice sounded almost…. Defeated. “There’s a difference between keeping someone safe and taking care of a threat.”

“Not if they both accomplish the same goal.” Your voice was soft.

Din lifted his visor to hold your gaze, his head tilted to the side. His posture conveyed disbelief, hands on his hips again while he studied you. While his breathing had evened out, it was still shallow, and you had a feeling if you put your hand over his heart, it would be racing.

Reaching toward him again, you hesitated when he turned his head to look away, but you continued, placing it on his cheek and turning his visor slowly back toward you.

“It’s no different for me, Din. I don’t judge you for any of it.”

“Maybe you should.” His voice was low and flat.

You shook your head. “No. You’re protecting your aliit, what about that could ever be wrong?” (“Family/Clan.”)

He almost began to melt into your touch, his voice softening along with the hard lines of his posture. “I-”

“Uh-uh,” you shook your head again, grinning when he sighed in frustration, turning his gaze to anywhere but you. “You’re good at what you do, Din. Bounty hunting, piloting, taking care of Grogu, following leads to find the Jedi…. Taking care of me.” His visor landed back on you. “But you also need to take care of you. You have a lot of people who care about you, friends, family…. And we all just want you to be okay.” Your hand fell to rest on his chest plate, and you smiled when you did indeed feel his heart racing, along with deep, steady breaths. “So give yourself a break…. Eat….” You both chuckled softly. “Take a kriffing nap….” He hung his head, his shoulders shaking in silent laughter. “And then we can resume murder and mayhem after. It’ll wait. I promise.”

Glancing over at the carbonite chamber as the last of the vapor dissipated, your curiosity got the better of you. “Was he….”

“He’s alive,” Din grunted, turning his attention that way as well. “But whenever they take him off ice, he’ll wish he wasn’t.”

“What’s he wanted for, do you know?”

“What’s he not wanted for? That would be the easier answer. He’s done a little bit of everything. But he was really big on the smuggling scene.”

Tilting your head as you studied the criminal's face, stuck in a permanent scowl, your brows pinched together.

Turning back to face you, Din tilted his head to match yours. “Why?”

Your eyes flicked up to his visor as you blinked a few times, trying to find the right words. “Why did someone like him have my puck…. and why would he chance it?” You turned your body fully toward Din. “If he’s evaded everyone including you for years, why risk running into a face to face with you just to get to me?”

“He wasn’t the brightest, maybe he didn’t know I’d be here-”

“Did you remove his stuff before you froze him? His belt?”

Without asking further questions, Din led you over to a crate by the chamber, lifting up a belt with a blaster and a few pouches. You took it, looking through the pouches, emptying the contents, grimacing when you pulled out a few small containers of spice, some death sticks, a small flask that you sniffed out of curiosity - spotchka - then, finally, what you were looking for…. A fob.

Pushing the button, it beeped continuously, making you quickly click it off. “That’s annoying.”

Out of the same pocket, Din pulled out a holopuck, holding it in his palm as he pushed the button with his thumb. A holo of your face popped up, spinning lazily in a circle along with the details of the bounty like the price, your last known location, and the date you were last seen there: Coruscant - Today.

“The price has gone up,” Din mumbled quietly. “Those scumbags on Arvala-7 said it was-”

“Where did they get that picture? It’s awful.” You looked up at Din as his visor turned down toward you. “I don’t look like that, do I?”

He let out a soft huff of laughter, shaking his head as he turned back to the puck, reading over the details. “It doesn’t say who issued the bounty, or why. No mention of me, either, so that explains him.” Din gestured over his shoulder with a jerk of his head toward the frozen villain.

“You’re saying they’d leave me alone, or at least more of them would, if they knew I was with you?”

He nodded. “Probably. There’s a code within the guild, unspoken but still, and there’s fear among quarry’s.” He shrugged. “I have enough of a reputation in both that people don’t usually mess with me unless the price is good.” Sighing he pressed the puck to shut it down, closing his fingers around it and lifting it up in reference as he spoke. “Unfortunately, this is starting to get that high.” He tucked it into his belt to keep for later.

“What about what started all this? My apartment and the Mando’a on the painting?” Floating the tracking fob above your flattened palm, you disassembled it without touching it once, smiling when small sparks shot out as some wires were pulled out of the circuits. Letting the parts crash to the floor with hollow pings once it was in shambles, you turned your attention back to Din, grinning with a shrug when he just stared at you.

Din watched you for a long moment, before he finally shook his head once at you in disbelief. “I think that was unrelated,” he finally said. “That was because you know me. Now that we know Gideon has been alive this whole time, it wouldn’t surprise me if he sent people.”

“So I may have two different bounties on me?” You collected all the parts of the fob into one pile with some lazy waves of your fingers.

Din watched in amusement as you swept the floor in quite possibly the most absurd manner he’d ever seen. “No, but you may have two different groups searching for you.”

Directing them with your index finger, you set the parts on the crate by the illicit items you’d removed. “Great.”

You both looked at each other, a smirk climbing up your face as he slowly shook his head at you. “Let’s just hope neither one is particularly motivated.”

Xxx

A soft rhythmic knock tapped against the hull of the Crest a while later, making you and Din freeze as you straightened the ration stores after the kid’s deep dive that morning. Looking up and meeting the other’s gaze, Din finally jerked into motion, taking the few steps toward the ramp.

Hand on your blaster as he pulled the lever to lower it, you moved in front of the bunk space, waving your hand in front of the panel to conceal a sleeping Grogu.

Before Din could say a word, you heard your mother’s voice quickly advancing up the ramp, his posture relaxing the closer her voice got. His shoulders stiffened when you heard a second voice mumble something lowly, stopping just out of your line of sight.

“Oh, don’t start that now,” your mom mumbled, backtracking before she quickly reached out and yanked on someone, causing some stumbling steps to follow her before you saw the face behind her come into view.

“Dad?”

The scowl on your father's face melted when he saw you, the corners of his mouth quickly lifting up into a disbelieving grin. He whispered your name as you both closed the distance between you, wrapping the other in a hug, rocking side to side as it went on. “How I missed you. We’ve been so worried. Where have you been, nau ki'bas’ika?” (“Little light bug.”)

You froze immediately, pushing your father to arms length to meet his curious gaze. To your side you saw Din taking a few steps closer, his head tilted as he peered at your father.

“Was that…. Dad, you just spoke Mando’a.”

Realization crossed his features, his shoulders relaxing as he nodded. “Did I? I never knew that’s what that was. I just heard it once and I guess it stuck. It means firefly, right?”

You nodded. “‘Little light bug’, but close enough.”

“Where did you hear it?” Din finally spoke, his voice quiet but curious.

Your father pulled away from you, and walked over to stand by your mother. He gestured to you with his head as he began. “She was young, only maybe twelve at the time….”

Giggling, you ran from your father, darting through the crowded streets of your neighborhood.

You were determined to make it to the shop at the end of the street. The old lady who worked there would give you sweets if you stopped by alone. She knew your parents didn’t want you to spoil your dinner, so she always feigned innocence when they were nearby, slipping you smaller treats under the counter on those days.

“Get back here!” Your fathers voice faded behind you, his laughter beginning to paint his words as he knew right where you were going.

Glancing over your shoulder to see how close he’d gotten, you suddenly ran straight into a wall of metal, almost falling back on your seat, but two hands caught you just in time.

Looking up, you saw your own reflection staring back at you in the dark T of a menacing looking visor, surrounded by dark green paint. “Careful, little one,” a kind voice warned through some sort of processor.

Your father called your name a few times, quickly closing in, his eyes wide when he saw the man’s hands around your arms. “I’m so sorry, sir.” Taking you into his own arms quickly, kneeling in front of you, he cradled you into his shoulder. “Are you okay, firefly?”

The younger man laughed, and you thought it was such a happy sound. “I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time. Right in the path of this little one on her mission to somewhere obviously very important,” he chuckled. Reaching out, he patted your head, ruffling your hair. “Be careful next time, nau ki'bas’ika, little firefly. It’s best to go around people, not through them. A much nicer time for everyone involved.” With a gentle shake of his head, he turned and walked away.

“He looked a lot like you, actually. Well, your armor,” your father concluded, pointing to Din.

You took a few steps over to the weapons locker and pulled out the green helmet you’d worn on Corvus. Looking into the T of the visor, you saw the reflection of your twelve year old self staring back at you, wide eyed and curious.

“That! It looked like that!” Pointing at the beskar in your hands, your father trailed off, his voice lowering to a whisper as his features screwed up in confusion. “Exactly like that. Wait. How did you….”

“Long story,” you sighed, setting the helmet back on the shelf.

Accepting your answer, your father moved on to the next topic. “How did you know that was Mando’a? You’ve never really been one for languages.”

Din had the audacity to let out a snort of laughter from where he leaned against the wall, arms crossed easily over his chest.

Rolling your head to level a narrow glare on your Mandalorian, you signed to him in Tusken in an attempt to keep the conversation a little more private in the tiny hull of the Crest, “What?”

He shrugged. “Jee tinka soong…. nuh'la,” he responded in Huttese, your newest attempted language to tackle, slipping into Mando’a on the last word when he couldn’t think of the proper one in the first language. (“I think it’s…. funny.”)

“Dobrah koona tah seenga Wooky tah uba,” you threatened in Huttese. (“I am going to sing Wookie to you.”)

“Shyriiwook? Ni ne ru’ba’juri gar ibac su,” he replied in Mando’a, completely forgoing trying to maintain the Huttese. (“Shyriiwook? I have not taught you that yet.��)

“Uba tinka Jee joka?” (“You think I joke?”)

A clearing of a throat attempted to pull your attention away, your mother’s small voice making you sigh as you continued to stare at Din. “Did I miss something?”

“No, mama,” with a roll of your eyes at Din, you turned to face your parents. “Just an inside joke.” You shot a glare back towards your armored companion. “Nothing important.” Bringing your eyes back to your father’s, you couldn’t help the smile you felt working up your face. “To answer your question, I guess I just never had a reason before.”

He arched a brow. “A reason?”

“Mando’a is the language of his people, well…. Of his Creed. It’s important to him, so it’s important to me.” You looked back over at Din, eyes narrowed. “Plus, he played dirty and started speaking to me only in Mando’a, so I kind of didn’t have a choice.”

“I did not-”

“After that,” you turned back to your parents, ignoring Din’s aggravated huff. “I wanted to learn because we’ve encountered so many different species and cultures…. I wanted to be able to communicate with them, even just a little bit.”

“Ah, so, ‘Help, I’ve lost my Mandalorian’ in what, seven different languages?” Your mom teased, smiling mischievously.

You laughed. “Something like that.”

Your mother closed the small space between you, resting her hands on your arms gently. “I’m so happy for you. You’re thriving.” The soft smile coloring her features quickly faded, concern clouding her eyes as they fell, mindlessly darting over your vambraces as she pulled back to hold your hands between you.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

“Your apartment…. It…. It was burned. We…. We thought the worst, then someone from the bar brought in the note you left a few months ago saying you would be gone an unknown length of time. Between that and something about you throwing a lit bottle of alcohol across an alley causing an explosion,” Din groaned softly, cradling his forehead with his hand while your mother took a deep breath before continuing. “The authorities thought maybe you’d set the fire yourself and are looking for you.”

All you could do was blink, looking at your mother, but not really seeing a thing in front of your face.

Everything in your apartment. Gone.

All the things Din had brought back for you, the memories….

Clearing your throat, you turned your gaze over onto Din, the weight of his patient stare behind his visor drawing lines up and down your face as he studied your reaction.

That place hadn’t really been home for a while now. Had stopped being home the minute you’d left that morning before stepping on board the Crest. And the ship, as much as it was a home for you now, was really just a place to come back to, four walls and roof. Wherever the little green goblin and his big shiny protector were, that was where you were meant to be.

You’re just happy he and the kid weren’t there. Things can be replaced.

“When nothing happened after several weeks,” your dad picked up the story after giving you a moment of silence to process, “we hired a private investigator.”

At some point during the conversation, Din had floated silently over to stand right beside you, his hand resting on the small of your back in comfort. “That’s where the bounty on you came from.” His voice is low, barely enough to fill the space between the two of you, just enough to buzz from his modulator and tickle your ear. “They don’t care if you’re dead or alive, their job is just to find you.”

Before you could add anything to the conversation, your father came over to join the three of you. He stood toe to toe with Din, peering up at him seriously, and it was every bit as amusing as you thought it would be. “She’s safe with you?”

“Dad, it’s probably the safest place I can be.”

It’s as if they didn’t hear you, neither Din nor your father reacting to your words. They simply continued to stare one another down, your father having to crane his neck back just slightly to maintain eye contact with the Mandalorian. To his credit, only the corner of one eye was twitching, showing his fear under the weighty stare of beskar.

“Your daughter is very capable herself, sir. She’s saved my life many times.”

Sir? Did Din just call someone sir? You needed to sit down.

As the Crest began to spin around you, the world obviously turning on its head since Din was calling people sir without a blaster to his head, it righted itself just a little bit when you realized the compliment he just paid you in the same breath.

You’re capable. Capable. In Mandalorian speak that’s the same as calling you one of their own, or it’s pretty damn close. If anyone asked, that’s what you were going to tell them.

And voluntarily saying you’d saved his life? Granted, to your father, that probably wasn’t the best sell, life in peril and all, but! You were definitely telling people about this.

Your father arched a skeptical brow. “Is that so?”

Yes. Yes, it is. If anyone asks, just call me-

Din nodded. “And that of my son.”

….We were so close.

As if waiting for his cue, the bunk door hissed open, revealing the empty chamber, before Grogu peeked out over the edge of the hammock, drawing all eyes to him. Your mother melted instantly, prattling nonsense as she rushed over to him and picked him up.

“He’s like me, mom.” She narrowed her brows in confusion, so you reached into the pocket on Din’s belt and pulled out the ball. “Grogu? Help me out here?”

The child’s eyes went wide when he saw his toy, and he immediately reached out for it, causing it to fly through the air to his waiting palm. Both of your parents' eyes went wide at him, before they looked at each other, then at Din. “It’s okay. He knows, too. We’re trying to get the kid to a Jedi so he can be trained.”

“There are still some left?” Your mother asked genuinely but looked at Grogu the whole time, her finger fiddling with the front of his robe.

How to answer?

‘Yes, we just met one and helped her take over a corrupted city to give back to the people’?

‘Yes, we just met one, and she taught me how to jump on top of really tall stuff’?

‘Yes, we just met one and she said she can’t help the kid because of his attachment to Din, not to mention me, and my vision dream memory things have something to do with the kyber crystal in my saber and a bond forged in the Force long before the three of us were born’?

“Some.”

“Is that where you got that?” Your dad asked quietly, pointing to the saber on your belt.

‘The voices brought me that while we hid in a supply closet and I saw a ten year old Din, a who knows how old Grogu, and a two year old me with both of you, not to mention something from the future involving the Mandalorians, and it all gave me a headache.’

‘The kyber led me to it, and after some vision thingies, I exploded some lights with a surge of Force power, and had to resist The Dark Side when Din almost drowned.’

“No, that found me at a black market port on Trask.”

“Found you?”

Don’t ask.

“Yeah. Like whoever torched my apartment.” You turned to Din beside you, his hand still firmly on your lower back. “I still need to go by there. Get my stash of credits from under the floor.”

“They found them,” your mom said. “That was another thing they thought was suspicious.”

“Of course they did,” you rolled your eyes. “Where are they now?”

“They are holding them as evidence.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Din said softly.

“What are you going to do, break in and take it?” Your dad scoffed, Grogu squealing in your mom’s arms at his tone toward his own father.

“No,” Din said pointedly as he tilted his head to the side, looking at your father skeptically. “I have a few contacts here who can take care of it for me.”

Your parents just gave you a look.

“He’s a bounty hunter, what do you expect?” You shook your head gently, not quite knowing what to say past that.

Oh now you’re quiet. Thanks, brain.

Your dad shifted his weight for a moment before he took a deep breath. “You’re running from a bounty…. With a bounty hunter…. Forgive me, but….”

An anger began to roil in your stomach, your hands clenched in fists at your sides. The room started to fill with a low rumble, and you realized it was the sound of blood rushing in your ears. It was so loud, you could barely hear your voice when you began to speak in a low, even tone. “This all started before there was even a bounty to speak of, dad. This all started because I-”

You're stopped by a tug on your pant leg, pulling your focus down. Grogu’s tiny green face peered up at you, a wave of calm washing over you from the ground up, the low hum coming to an abrupt stop, and your hands releasing at your sides. You bent over to scoop him into your arms, holding him close to your chest.

“The weapons locker started to shake. And a few crates in the corner.” Din’s soft voice in your ear explained.

“Thank you, ad’ika,” you mumbled into the top of the child’s head, taking a moment before lifting your gaze back to your parents. “I’m here because I want to be, not just because of a bounty. When I told him I was coming with him - he didn’t ask - we didn’t even know someone might be looking for me until we got back to my apartment for me to grab a few things. That’s when we found it trashed and knew that I had to go with him, to be safe.”

Din turned to you, his voice still calm and low. “They torched it to burn the evidence.”

Your mother’s head snapped between the two of you a few times before her words came out in a rapid fire. “What evidence? Of what? What’s going on?”

With a heavy sigh, you turned your body slowly to face her, and lowered yourself to sit on a nearby crate, leaning forward to brace your elbows on your knees. Grogu perched on your lap, looking between all four of you as the conversation went on. “There are some people who aren’t very happy that Mando and I….” Your eyes fell to the floor of the Crest, searching for the proper words to complete the sentence. “….Get along. He used to come into the bar every few months, and would bring me something-”

“Oh he’s the one!” She cut you off with a broad smile, eyes darting over to your beskar clad companion. “The one that traveled the galaxy for you.”

You smiled shyly, looking up and over at Din where he’d sat close by, and quickly tucked your chin to your chest to try and hide the growing grin on your face. “Yeah. That was him.” You turned back to your mom. “Still is. The gifts are just…. A little different now. More practical.”

“Oh.” She smiled knowingly, if not somewhat sadly. “So he lost interest?”

Din choked, starting to cough as your eyes went wide, laughter bubbling up and out of your chest.

“No! No, no. Mom. We just…. Like we said, the apartment was burned to cover their tracks because they came after me to come after him. And they’re still coming. So now his gifts help keep me safe.” You traced the line of your left vambrace with your right index finger. “They have helped me find purpose on dark days and strength on hard ones.” Grogu’s hand came up to rest on your vambrace, intersecting your fingers' path, making you smile. “It’s very different, yes, but not anything less, just…. They’ve adjusted to fit the current needs.”

“Running for your life?”

You understood their skepticism. You really did. People only want what’s best for their children, and you can see why this isn’t it for them. On the run, in an old ship, with someone they consider dangerous and a stranger, your life on the line for a few credits….

But you’ve never been more sure of what you're doing in your life.

“Protecting my family.”

Xxx

Your parents had insisted both of you stay the night with them. Something about them feeling guilty about the bounty and since you’d already been found near the Crest once…. You and Din weren’t going to turn down a real bed, there was no love lost between you and the thin bunk pad.

They left to get the room ready while you and Din collected a few necessities for the night.

“I’m going to go get a few things,” you said as nonchalantly as possible.

“Mesh’la, no. What do you need? I’ll go get them, you stay here and lock up the ship until I get back-”

“No!” You said a little too forcefully, correcting it with a softer, “No,” quickly after. “I’ll be fine, Din. I just…. Need some air, that’s all.”

He sighed. “Fine. But I’m meeting my contact here with your credits in an hour. Be back by then so you can count them and make sure it’s all there.” You nodded, turning to go down the ramp when he caught your arm gently, making your turn back to look at his visor again, one brow raised. “Please.”

Offering a tight lipped smile, you nodded again, pulling your cloak over your shoulders as you descended the ramp.

It was a quick little jog to the bar, just a few streets over, and you stood in the shadows near the entrance, waiting for Nem to show up.

Looking all around, you saw the bright neon signs displaying their never ending messages in Aurebesh, flashing images of products or faces of spokespersons for milliseconds before moving on to the next. This used to be comforting to you, familiar, but now, after seeing green, and life, space as far as you could see…. You couldn’t wait to get out of here.

The sign for the bar flickered above you, pulling your eyes up to it in amusement. They still hadn’t fixed it. Pulling your eyes up further still, you saw the lines of speeders zooming past above, flickers of finely dressed men and women going about their days without a second glance down to the grunge below. Growing up on the lower levels, you learned that sometimes the best things are hidden, tucked away where you’ll never find them unless you really look. Anytime you entered a new atmosphere on the Crest, you found your eyes instantly pulled downward, scanning the surface for all its secrets. And so far…. You hadn’t been disappointed.

Laughter broke your revere, your focus coming back down in front of you as you saw Nem walking up to the bar with a group of other regulars.

Jostling a nearby pile of trash with a little nudge from your mind, you saw Nem’s eyes dart your way, widening in recognition when he saw you. He opened his arms wide like he was about to make some announcement, but stopped when you shook your head ever so slightly at him.

“Ah…. Hmmm…. You know what, guys? You go ahead. Order a spotchka for me.” He slapped his friends on the back as he started to pull away from the group.

“Where are you going?” Some deep, gravelly voice asked.

“Gotta take a piss,” he pulled a face, gesturing over his shoulder with his thumb, then smiling when they all guffawed before waving him off and disappearing inside.

Once he was within reach, you pulled him into the alley by his collar, pinning him against the wall by your vambrace at his neck.

He grunted at the impact, but smiled down at you. “Hey, you. Nice to know you’re alive. No ‘hi’? ‘Hello’? ‘How’re you doing, Nem?’ Oh I’m just fine, thanks for asking….” His voice trailed off tightly at the end as you applied a little more pressure with your armored forearm. He reached up, tapping it with one hand as he ground out, “Okay. I get it. I yield, or whatever. Just…. Stop.”

You eased back a bit, rolling your eyes when he took dramatic breaths. Shoving his shoulders against the wall, you took a small step back.

“Are those beskar?” He eyed your vambraces, rubbing his neck with a grimace. A mischievous smile wound up his face, his eyes sparkling in the dimly lit alley. “I take it you found your Mandalorian.”

“He wasn’t lost,” you grumbled. “Cut the shit, Nem.” He chuckled. “Just tell me where I can find other Mandalorians.”

“Why, you got a thing for them or something?” Wiggling his eyebrows suggestively, it melted into a grimace and a groan when you pushed him back up against the wall, vambrace against his throat again. “Okay, okay! Kriff, you need a drink. Hell, I need a drink. Um, I don’t know?”

Pulling him forward by his shirt before you slammed him back into the wall again, he began to protest quickly.

“I don’t know!” He almost yelled, lowering his voice after you gave him a warning look. “I don’t know. Really, I don’t. I heard about the shiny one on Sorgan purely by chance, right place right time, and I haven’t heard a thing since. They are a really reclusive bunch, Mando’s. And I don’t blame them.”

“So you know nothing?” You reiterated after a moment, all your hopes dropping to the ground around you.

“Not a thing,” he verified, his expression sincere.

“I find that hard to believe,” you hissed. “Your nose is always where it doesn’t belong, in everybody’s business.” Leaning into him again, your voice dropped a bit deeper. “Tell me.”

The smirk twisted back up his face. “You’re so funny. Come on, let’s get a drink.” He went to push off the wall when a shadow moved over both of you from behind you and his eyes went wide as he froze, staring over your shoulder.

“I suggest you do what she says, before I start asking.” You smirked at the familiar modulated voice.

You tilted your head at Nem. “You won’t like it when he asks. Much less pleasant.” You dug the vambrace in slightly on the last word to prove your point.

“Fine, fine,” Nem hissed after a long minute, reaching up to try and pull your beskar away, grunting when it didn’t work. “I wasn’t listening. Ask me again.”

Din grunted, his modulator coming right by your ear, but his tone far from something to keep Nem from overhearing. “Before you let him go, I just need one minute alone with him, mesh’la.”

Glancing at his helmet as it almost rested on your shoulder, you teasingly warned, “Mando….”

“He won’t die, don’t worry.”

Nem swallowed roughly. “Can I worry?” He asked, raising his hand as if you needed to know who was speaking.

You slammed him into the wall again. “Talk.”

Xxx

Credits tucked safely onboard the Crest, you turned to Din as the ramp sealed shut behind you, beginning the trek to your parents apartment.

They had stopped Din before he could lower the ramp, your mother’s hand over his on the lever. She didn’t even flinch when he turned his visor down to look at her in question.

“What do we call you?”

“Just call him Mando,” you jumped in. “Names are something special in Mandalorian culture, like their face. You don’t go around just sharing it with the galaxy.”

Your mother smiled, turning back to Din as she gave his hand a gentle pat. “Well, we would be honored if you called us by our names. I’m Leera, and this is my husband, Dero.”

After a moment, Din nodded, his glove creaking as his grip over the lever tightened. “Din.” Your mother tilted her head at him curiously. “My name is Din. Din Djarin.”

Your father extended his hand, gripping the inside of Din’s forearm as the Mandalorian gripped his. “Nice to meet you, Din.”

“Nice to meet you, Dero.” He nodded to your mom. “Leera.”

Your mother smiled back at him so wide, you thought her face might crack.

“Please tell me Nem walked away, at least.”

Din tossed his head side to side for a moment. “I can tell you he limped away….”

Rolling your eyes with a groan, you continued on in comfortable silence for a long moment.

“How’d you know I’d be at the bar?”

“I followed you from the ship, for one.”

“Really? I was careful! I made sure and kept checking…. I didn’t see you.”

He let out a quiet huff of laughter. “Like I said earlier, no one who knows their target knows they’re there gets that close. That’s just stupid.”

You shook your head as a soft snort of laughter escaped through your nose. “Not everyone is you, Din.”

“No, they are not,” he said proudly, turning to look at you with an affectionate tilt of his head when you threw your head back laughing loudly.

Linking your arm through his as you leaned into his side, you grinned. “So humble.”

“That’s why my armor is so shiny. Humility.”

You groaned at the joke, but looked up at him in amusement nonetheless. “That has to be it.”

Xxx

Din walked into the bedroom at your parents, Grogu propped in one arm, stopping just inside the threshold as the door slid shut behind him.

You stood up straight from where you were digging in your satchel, bent over the bed. “What?”

It took Din a few seconds to answer, his visor giving you a once over from head to toe slowly, making a smile tug at the corners of your lips. Opting to go barefoot while in your childhood home, you had to admit it probably looked a little odd to go from bare feet up to beskar on your forearms. You wanted to be safe, but you could protect the ones you loved while feeling the plush of carpet between your toes, couldn’t you?

Din shook his head then continued. “I just had a very…. Interesting conversation with your dad.”

“Oh no.” You turned to fully face him, hands going to your hips. “What’d he say?”

Din sighed, walking further into the room to set the kid down. “Well….”

“Let’s get you something to eat,” Din muttered to Grogu, walking quickly toward the kitchen. “Of course you’ve already eaten all the ration packets I packed. How did you even get into that bag anyway?”

Looking down at the tiny face in his arms, laughing softly at the babbled coos he got in response, Din nodded. “Okay. Perfectly acceptable answer. Just next time, save some for us, okay kid?” He swore the child rolled his eyes at him.

Stepping into the kitchen, he didn’t bother to turn on the lights, able to see just fine with his display in his helmet, and the kids' eyes were big enough to see in the dark. Grabbing a piece of fruit off the table, Din recognized it as the same kind you’d gotten on Nevarro, and he smiled.

Grogu let out an unamused huff, making him chuckle softly. “Hey. I promise, kid. You’re gonna love it.” When Grogu still watched the fruit with a skeptical eye, Din tried a different tactic. “Your buir loves them. She’s the one that found them,” he lilted temptingly. (“Mother.”)

He saw the kids eyes widen comically before he reached eagerly for the brightly colored fruit. Quickly grabbing the corner of his cape to dab at the juice streaming down Grogu’s face, he floundered for a minute, letting out a sigh as he reached for a nearby towel. “Come on, kid. Some of it is supposed to be in your mouth.”

The lights suddenly flicked on, making Din spin around on high alert, finding your dad standing in the doorway.

The only sound for a solid minute was Grogu’s happy squeal followed by gentle babbles as he reached for another piece of fruit. Your father stared at Din who stared right back, not even a twitch of an eyebrow was given, until your father finally gave a sigh that sounded very much like yours.

“Why are you skulking in the shadows, son?”

Din shifted his weight from side to side, pondering his response before stumbling out, “I... I'm not? I'm feeding the baby?” To be honest, his brain had short circuited at being called ‘son’. He’d been called a lot of things over the years, but that had never been one of them. Not since…. Not since before the Creed.

Your mother shuffled in, squinting at the bright lights as she looked around, taking in the scene. After a few steps, she took the fruit from Grogu, raising a brow at his squawk in protest, the arch reminding Din every bit of yours, and amazingly Grogu settled right down under its weight. Shuffling over to the counter, she began to slice the fruit up properly. "How old is the little guy?" She looked over her shoulder when Din didn’t answer at first, gesturing to the table with a tilt of her head before resuming her task.

Din was quick to obey, pulling out a seat to sit for himself, and placing Grogu in his lap, responding as a plate covered in easier to manage slices was slid in front of the little troublemaker. "Fifty."

If Din could capture the look on your parents’ faces to show you, he would. It was priceless. All they did was blink way too much and stare at the child as he munched happily on the sweet snack. Your mother had hesitated before falling back into a chair across from him, while your father shifted his weight to one side, his head shaking slightly in disbelief as he looked at the child with furrowed brows.

“Portions,” your mother mumbled, pointing at Grogu as she cleared her throat and gave her head a little shake. “Smaller portions, easier to chew bites. It’ll make him eat slower, which might help him eat less.” Din tilted his head to the side as he held her gaze, before looking down at the child who smiled up at him broadly. “I heard you grumbling to him in the hall about the ration packs,” she explained.

Nodding, Din lifted his visor back up to hold her gaze. “Thank you,” he kept his voice soft. “Mesh’l- uh, your daughter tries to do that as much as possible with the packets. Insists on hand feeding him if she can, to slow him down. I, ah,” he scratched the back of his neck. “I tend to forget, and just hand him the whole thing.”

Your mother smiled, pushing against the table to get back to her feet. “You’ll figure it out eventually.” She gave her husband’s chest a loving pat on her way out the door before leaving the two men once again in silence.

Din watched curiously as your father made his way over to the table, taking the seat your mother had been in. Leaning back, he looked at the Mandalorian down his nose, his eyes narrowed skeptically.

After several long minutes, Din finally sighed. “What are you doing?”

“...trying to be intimidating. Is it working?” There was no hesitation in his answer, coming immediately after Din’s question like it had been expected.

Din tossed his head from side to side as he weighed his answer. “Kind of.”

Your father bobbed his head in an approving nod. “Good.”

Another few minutes of silence settled between them, but this time it sat more comfortably.

Finally, your father shifted in his seat, relaxing his shoulders as he let out a long breath. “I’m not going to ask you any questions. Frankly, there’s a lot I want to know, don’t get me wrong, but…. Quite honestly, you scare me too much for any of that.”

Smiling under the helmet, Din looked down at Grogu to give the man a break from the intimidating visor.

When your father spoke again, his voice had softened considerably. “She’s my little girl.”

Din lifted his head just slightly to find the man looking at him with a remarkably sincere expression. “Just…. Just promise me she’s safe, that she will continue to be…. And we’ll leave it at that.”

Raising his head the rest of the way so he could look at your father straight on, Din answered with as steady a voice as he could muster. “I’ll do everything in my power to make sure she stays safe and sound. You have my word.”

The two men shared a nod of understanding before Din added one last thought.

“Aliit ori'shya tal'din.” (“Family is more than blood.”)

Your father asked what that meant, eyes widening only slightly when Din explained. Nodding once again, his eyes fell to the table top as he muttered a quiet, “I see.” After a long moment, he began quietly, keeping his eyes down, “I noticed that same symbol from your armor on her weapons. Is that….?”

“My signet. The sign of my clan.”

He bobbed his head again slowly, the only reaction that seemed applicable in this situation, so he kept applying it. “Is it a large clan?”

“It’s a clan of three.”

“Just three?” Your father tilted his head to the side as he studied the Mandalorian.

“All we’ve needed.”

He continued to nod in acceptance, moving the conversation along. “What are your plans after you’ve gotten this one to the Jedi?” He pointed at Grogu, smiling as he watched the little green ward lick the fruit juice off the now empty plate.

Din hesitated, taking the plate from the kid and wiping his face off with the towel still in his hands, ignoring his whines of protest. “We haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”

Your father’s voice had dropped even softer in understanding. “But they involve her.”

Din chose his words carefully, not wanting to do anything to harm the delicate balance he found himself in with your father. He’d thought about this a lot. Since before you even came on the Crest. “All of my plans from this point forward involve her. In some form or another…. They have for a long time.”

The other man grimaced but quickly tried to hide it. “Bounty hunting?”

Din thought for a moment before answering honestly. “Hopefully living.”

“I’ve done a lot of terrifying things, like fighting the mudhorn I thought was going to kill me…. And that conversation was worse.”

You were sitting on the foot of the bed, a hand over your mouth as you tried very hard not to laugh.

“It’s not funny,” he deadpanned, looking down at you with the flattest expression you’d ever seen from the expressionless visor.

“I didn’t say anything!” You held your hands up by your head in surrender, melting into small giggles after a moment under the weight of his stare. “It’s a little bit funny,” you countered.

Din walked around the bed without a word, setting Grogu down near the pillows.

“You know, I get it from him.”

“Get what?” Din asked after another long moment, his voice dripping with a ‘why did I ask’ tone.

“The Force. He's more matters of the mind than physical manifestations, though. He’s what you call Force sensitive, he can feel it more than others, and can manipulate it to a degree, but, not like….” You turned at the sound of giggling, finding Grogu floating through the air, slowly turning end over end. “Not like that.”

Din turned away from his levitating son as if it were just another day in the life - which, to be fair, it was - and focused on the matter at hand. “Are you telling me he could read my mind, mesh’la?” He hissed the last few words at you, hands on his hips.

“I’m saying he could? If he wanted to? Why, were you thinking about something you shouldn’t be?”

Din’s weight shifted under your question. He hadn’t told you the whole conversation.

“Hopefully living.”

Suddenly he’s transported back to a dream he once had of a quiet life on a secluded planet, somewhere deep in the woods with you and the kid. The kids.

The smell of something warm simmering on the stove, the peals of laughter around the corner, a soft breeze promising a shift in the weather soon the biggest of his worries.

No bounties, no Creed in the way, just life.

And instantly that dream world is tinted with shame.

He’ll never be able to provide that for you or the kid. And even if he could, he wouldn’t be able to enjoy it with you. That’s not how his life worked. He didn’t get to settle down, away from problems. They always came to him. And he wouldn’t do that to you or the kid.

“It’s a hard life, bounty hunting,” your father pulled his focus back. “But if you haven’t noticed by now, she’s a tough soul. I’d dare say her heart is made of beskar.” What was he getting at? “Wherever you go, that’s where she will be. That’s how she works, what makes her happiest. Best not to fight it.”

“No,” Din finally answered. “No, I was thinking about you, is all.”

“Only good things, I hope,” you grinned at him, your eyes narrowing mischievously. “Appropriate things.”

“Oh, of course,” he teased. “The way you looked in that armor on Corvus, that’s appropriate, right?”

“Stop,” you chuckled, moving to start turning down the bed.

“And the way you tackled that guard from the roof? Or how about the way you just decided to confiscate the asshole’s gun to piss me off?” He tilted his head when you looked at him over your shoulder. “Any of those okay?”

“You didn’t.” Turning to him with a huff, you closed your eyes with a groan.

He waited until you peeked one eye open at him before he answered playfully. “No. I didn’t.”

“You little….” You reached out, giving his shoulder a shove.

“Little?” He chuckled, trying to grab your wrists to stop your onslaught.

“Sometimes you’re such a pain in my ass, Din.” Grabbing his cowl, you tugged him closer, fighting the grin trying desperately to climb up your face. “Kriff.” Tugging down on the material, his forehead came to rest on yours with a soft thunk. “So annoying.”

“Shi par gar,” Din mumbled quietly, wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you in closer to him. (“Only for you.”)

The quiet moment was interrupted when the kid stopped his tumble through the air by landing firmly on Din’s helmet, patting the top of your head with his hand affectionately.

Hinging your head back until it rested against the top of your shoulders, you peered up at the little green minion. “You, too, tiny. You and your dad have meetings or something to plot your next tactics?” You smiled at Din’s hummed, “Mmm-hmm.” Untangling yourself from your Mandalorian, you reached up to pull Grogu down. “Time for bed, ad’ika.” You set him on the bed before you walked back up to the pile of pillows at the top. “Help me get these off? We can use some of them to make a bed for the kid.”

Nodding, Din went around to the other side of the bed, starting to sort through the mass of pillows. “Now I know where you get your love of pillows from.”

“Don’t you even dare,” you turn a half hearted glare up at him. “I love a pillow, not a mountain of them.”

He held his hands up in surrender, a pillow hanging limply in one hand. “It came from somewhere.”

“You’re going to be going somewhere if you don’t stop,” you grumbled, throwing a pillow at his chest with more force than necessary.

Din handed you the simpler pillows as you swapped them out for the decorative ones, smiling gently at him while you exchanged the soft materials.

Turning to the bedside table you’d cleared, the lamp now on the floor, casting its light onto the ceiling at an odd angle, you arranged the pillows into a makeshift bed for the kid. “There, ad’ika. How’s that?”

Grogu looked at it from his perch on the bed, then at you, squealing when Din came around with a chuckle and picked him up silently. With a few quick steps, the child was seated on his throne of plush, patting it inquisitively with his hands, tilting his head as he peered down at it.

“Get comfy, kid. You gotta stay the whole night there. No wandering around here. We don’t know who might be watching.”

Turning narrowed eyes up toward Din, you crossed your arms over your chest. “This is my childhood home. We’re plenty safe.”

“Not if anyone else has a fob.”

You scoffed, arms falling to your sides. “Oh, come on. They wouldn’t really try to come in-”

“They would.”

“How do you-”

“I would.”

You simply stared at his visor for a long moment, a sudden scraping sound pulling your focus back toward the child.

He’d pried the drawer on the front open, stuffing one of the pillows inside so it was haphazardly sticking out the side, and curled up in its center with a contented smile.

“Well. Okay. I guess that works,” you mumbled.

Din walked over to the other side table, taking out the holopuck from the compartment on his belt and set it on the flat surface. With a quick press, all your information spun in black and white above the little device.

You crawled across the bed to get a closer look. “Anything changed?”

“Now it mentions me,” he sighed. “I don’t know how they are getting their info so fast, but it’s impressive. Must be tied into the mainframe here, or something, direct access to security footage with recognition software….” He paused at your confused expression. “They have eyes and ears everywhere.” He turned back to the display. “The price has gone up, too.”

“That’s not my parents. They don’t have that kind of money.”

“No, I know. It’s who they hired. But I’m just confused why they want you so badly. As far as the local authorities are concerned, this is just a local smash and dash.” You chuckled at his choice of words, shrugging when he looked at you in question. “Unless….”

“Unless….” You encouraged him after a moment.

“No….” He took a deep breath. “Unless Gideon is in on it.”

“That would make more sense.” You reached out, shutting the puck down before getting under the covers. “And I take it that means you’re sleeping in your armor?”

He hesitated.

“You just said it-”

“I know what I said,” he snapped, huffing out a breath as his weight shifted to one side, his voice softening. “We’re several floors up, the building has security….”

“….and I’ll protect you if anybody is stupid enough to try something,” you finished for him. “I wear beskar, too.” You waved your arms a bit as if he needed to know what you meant. “And I’m pretty handy with a blaster.” Din grunted, making you scoff. “Just take off the weapons and your gloves, at least. Your jet pack. Cape. And you don’t need your boots to shoot someone. You have a real bed for one night, and I’d feel horrible if I knew you didn’t get to rest your back because of me.”

Din made his way around the bed, hovering on his side between you and the child. He stared at you for a long moment before finally muttering, “ My back…. It’s not-”

“You groan every time you sit down on the Crest.”

Suppressing it as best he could, Din groaned softly as he sat on the edge of the bed, making you snicker. “I do not-”

Doing your best imitation of his deepest complaint, you groaned heavily, repeating the noise every time he tried to continue talking. Finally a glove free hand came over your mouth, cutting your latest attempt short, and your eyes shot open to find his visor inches from your face.

“Would you stop? Your parents are going to think I’m murdering you, or something.”

Your lips quirked under his hand. “Or something,” you mumbled against his palm, wiggling your eyebrows suggestively.

It took a moment, but Din let out a low groan as his hand twitched, his weight shifting beside you on the bed, making you laugh softly.

“What’s the matter, Mando? Firefly got your tongue?” Your voice was muffled under his hand.

Shaking his head at you, he moved to sit on the edge of the bed, taking his boots off.

Scooting up behind him, you eased your hands over his shoulders. “Can I help?”

Din took a shallow breath before he nodded once, sitting up straighter and reaching for the front of his cowl. He unfastened it, letting it pool behind him into your waiting hands, where you folded it and set it next to the holopuck. Next you gently disengaged the jet pack, lifting it with a grunt as the weight settled into your hands then down to the floor by his boots with a soft thud.

Din chuckled softly at your small noise of effort, turning his head to look at you.

“Shut up,” you mumbled, coming back up behind him and wrapping your arms around his waist, resting your chin on his shoulder. He still had one glove on, interrupted by your shenanigans, so you helped him ease that off.

His body relaxed in your grip as he let out a long breath, tossing the glove onto his boots.

“Why’d you give them your name?” You asked softly.

“Wanted to,” he said on a breath, his voice relaxed, words almost slurred as the day began to set in.

“But why? You only just met them. It took you years before you trusted me enough-”

“They’re important to you, which makes them important to me, too.” He turned his visor to look at you, his voice clear and soft. “And I trusted you from the moment I met you.”

“Then why-”

“Because that scared me.”

You tucked the bottom half of your face into the top of his shoulder, letting the words fully process. Never did you think about Din being afraid, much less at something so simple. But the more you thought about it, the less simple it became.

He was someone who stayed cut off from the rest of the galaxy, physically and emotionally. By choice and Creed. But then suddenly, he found himself stuck in the middle of a feeling he was unfamiliar with, something new, and challenging.

For someone who had an admittedly usually violent solution for everything, you could see how this would be unsettling.

Unable to help the small tug of your lips upward at the thought, you decided to change the subject. “What do we do from here?”

“We go to Tython.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Even with the bounty?”

“You’ve had a bounty on you this entire time.”

“Thanks for reminding me. I’d totally forgotten,” you grumbled. “But you know what I mean! Now that it’s higher, and they obviously know what I’m doing, watching me- us. I’m not willing to put the kid, or you, for that matter, at risk-”

“It’ll be fine.”

“How do you know?”

“Now they know I’m here. Even the dullest crook will think twice before taking a shot.”

Turning your face into his neck, you mumbled against his flight suit, “You’re just saying that so you can get out of another piece of armor to let your back relax more.”

“Maybe.” He drug out the word in a ridiculous way.

Rolling your eyes, you looked around the room to make sure everything was settled, your eyes landing on the windows across the way. “You know, this is Coruscant.”

“It is?” He sounded genuinely shocked.

You cut your eyes over to him in a short lived glare. “Every room has blackout curtains to block out the city lights. I know you want to stay ready, but…. If ever there was a place you could feel safe taking off your helmet, it’d be here.” You started gesturing with your hands as you spoke, your face a wide array of expressions as you tried to convince your Mandalorian. “It gets pitch black, like the Crest, darker even, since there aren’t any panels blinking on the walls. I’m not asking you to,” you hurriedly clarified, waving your hands in front of both him and yourself as you were still wrapped around him. “I’m just letting you know, since it’s been a while since you really got to spend some time out of that thing.”

When he didn’t answer, you added on, “I can leave the room.” Pointing over your shoulder towards the door, you shifted that way slightly. “Go to the kitchen, take a bath -hell, there’s even another guest room, I could-”

Suddenly the room was moving as he maneuvered out of your grip, rotating so his lower half was still hanging off the bed, his upper half holding you down. He’d turned onto his hip, his hands gently gripped your wrists on either side of your head, thumbs tracing over the skin in soothing lines while he peered down at you from inches away. Your chests bumped one another with every deeper breath, and you noticed he started to take, deep, even breaths with a smirk.

Just as you opened your mouth to say something, he beat you to it.

“Don’t go.” He tilted his head to the side just slightly, his voice low and playful. “Because if you go, then I follow you, then the kid comes- it’s a whole thing.”

“But-”

“I’m fine, mesh’la.”

“Okay,” you agreed, not believing a word of it.

The two of you stayed in that position for a long time, the only change when his forehead lightly came to rest on yours. Gently tugging your hands free after a while, he moved to get up, but you were quick to circle them around his neck, keeping him close.

“No, don’t move. Not yet.” Moving one hand, you began to knead it softly into his neck, smiling when he groaned and relaxed further into your touch. “You’re fine, huh?”

Incoherent grumbling vibrated out of the modulator next to your ear where his head had fallen, tucked into your neck.

“If you’re not gonna take it off- any of it- because I’m here, or because it a whole thing, or the bounty,” he grunted for you to go on, making you chuckle softly, starting to knead your other hand in as well, making him go slack into the mattress below the both of you. “As I was saying, if you can’t, then I’ll make it work.” Digging in on a particularly bad knot, you focused on it while you mused, “I think this one is specifically from that conversation with my dad.”

“Probably,” he moaned, his helmet basically pressed into the mattress by your head, only a bit of his weight on you, most on his hip. “I was so tense the whole time. I had no idea what I was doing.”

“Din Djarin out of his depth?” You playfully gasped, melting into giggles when his hand came and pinched your side in retribution.

“If it’s any consolation, you handled it exactly right,” you said. “Dad passed by in the hall right before you came back and I could sense the pride coming off of him. The content. You made him happy.”

“He could have told me,” Din grumbled. “Would have been nice to know.”

“I just told you,” you chuckled, your hands pulling away from his neck as he moaned in protest, only to groan in gratitude when they landed on his lower back and began to knead on the tension there. “You really need to invest in a better sleeping pad for the Crest. What’s there now is ruining your back.”

“What’s ruining my back is being an old man in armor.”

You stopped your movements, and he whined like a child. “Oh, because that’s the sound an old man makes.” Tilting your head, you tried to catch his gaze as he turned his visor just slightly toward you to glare, you could feel it.

“If I agree with you, will you continue?” He all but ground out, a little more of his weight relaxing onto you.

“What do you think?”

“That’s the problem. What you’re doing is making it hard to think. So just tell me, please.” He turned his head a bit more towards you. “Have mercy on an old man.”

You scoffed, starting your ministrations again as he let out a grateful sigh. “You’re not old. The kid is old. ….I can’t believe that sentence just left my mouth.” He chuckled. “Or that it made sense.”

“Okay, fine, I’m not. And you’re right, the sleeping pad is getting a bit threadbare. I’ll pick up a new one before we leave tomorrow.”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you dug in especially hard to a knot. “You’re just saying that because of what I’m doing, aren’t you?”

He groaned happily, nodding his head. “You want a bantha?” You choked on a laugh. “Now would be the time to ask.”

You let out a snort of laughter. “So anything I want, it’s mine?”

“Try me.” He didn’t even hesitate.

“That’s not a yes.”

“You’re very observant.”

“I don’t know if you’re very brave or very dumb to be messing with the person who is not only being nice to you, but being nice to you by digging their fingers into your most painful areas.” You pressed on a large knot with extra pressure for emphasis, rolling your eyes when he only went completely lax in your arms from glee. “Option three, then. Smart. You’re a smart man, apparently.”

“What does that make you?”

“How do you mean?”

“You fell for this smart man’s tricks. What does that make you?”

“Do you really want to go down this road, Din?”

“I’m wearing armor. I can handle it.”

And the two fold meaning of his words sunk in. Even if he didn’t mean it that way, it was how this whole conversation started. Feeling for you had scared him. The man in the beskar armor was afraid of the way he felt inside his chest. Something under his armor, behind his defenses. It must have felt almost like a betrayal.

Pulling your hands up to cup his cheeks, ignoring his almost whine of protest, you turned more on your side, rolling him more so as well in the process.

“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.”

Din settled in under the light covers beside you, leaving the lamp on the floor by Grogu on. You were about to ask him if he could turn it off when you noticed him sitting up and looking at you.

“Truce?” He asked softly.

“Truce,” you grumbled after a minute, sighing. Mirroring him, you sat up and cocked your head to the side. “What?”

“Why do they call you firefly?”

A fond smile worked its way up your face, growing the more you thought about the nickname. Staring at the blanket, you worried a loose string between your fingers as you spoke.

“There’s not much life here on Coruscant, at least not naturally. People, beings, yes. But life…. No. We have a few parks the higher up you go, and at one point, someone tried to introduce wildlife into them. Nothing fancy, just some basic bugs and stuff from various planets so visiting senators could feel a little more at home.”

Grogu snored abruptly, pulling your eyes his way before they turned back to the visor still watching you intently. “I think he’s gone into a food coma.”

Din chuckled, looking at the child before leaning back against the headboard, hands behind his head as he relaxed. “Probably.” After he let out an easy breath, he gestured to you with a quick jut of his chin. “Continue.”

“What? Oh. Yes. Um.” Rolling the thread back and forth once again, you continued. “So anyway, down here, as you can tell from our wonderful and colorful streets here in the Uscru District, they didn’t do anything this low. There aren’t any parks for miles until you get closer to the atmosphere. Something about the ‘quality of air needed for life’, bantha shit because they could have cleaned it up for the citizens but I think they just don’t have a clean up crew brave enough to come down this far-” You took a deep breath.

“Sorry. Not the point. Anyway.” Din chuckled as you went on. “I was a kid, maybe ten? I’d sneak out on the roof to look up at the lanes of traffic overhead, pretend they were shooting stars. Sometimes they’d fly low enough I could just glimpse their clothes, usually brilliant ball gowns most likely headed for the senate or some fantastic party. The opera house is in the upper levels of the district, so more than likely they were headed there. I’d make up little stories for them, narrating what I thought they were saying, kriff, I was a weird kid.” Your palm slammed against your forehead as your chin tucked toward your chest, trying to hide your face.

A gloveless hand wrapped around your wrist, pulling it away gently. “No. That is a weird kid,” Din tilted his head toward Grogu behind him, making you smile. His fingers wove tightly through yours, and he brought your joined hands to rest softly on his knee. “Go on.”

Taking a deep breath, you did. “So one night I was out there, and I saw this trail of light almost like sparks getting closer and closer. Bobbing and weaving through the traffic like it had a mind of its own…. A speeder burst through the cloud and I thought for sure they would finally dissipate, but they sprang back together and kept going. It was like they had come just for me. They came straight to me, and swirled around me in a single line. I was so still, I had no idea what was going on. Of course my mom chose this moment to let me know she’d always known I went on the roof, and she’d always kept an eye on me when I had. She came out and explained what they were. Fireflies. From one of the parks. Once I realized it was something safe, I let my guard down, and I could feel them. There’s a connection with living things through the Force you just can’t mimic no matter how lifelike you make the technology.”

Din’s head was tilted fondly at you when you finally looked back up at him. “So that’s the story. It just kind of stuck.”

“Did you ever see the fireflies again?”

A wide grin broke out on your face. “Every night. They came for weeks. That was when I started really using my abilities for the first time. They offered me a connection to the Force I didn’t feel any other way, and I was able to grab that and focus on it, training my Force muscles, if you will.”

Din was silent for a long moment, and you were pretty sure he’d fallen asleep until he finally mused quietly, “After Tython, we’ll go somewhere with fireflies.”

Xxx

Tags: @ren-ni, @hoodedbirdie, @rennalouise, @kurlyfrasier, @what-the-heckin-heck, @deceiverofgodss, @littleshadow17, @nghtwngs, @yourcoolauntie, @queenmalhinewahine, @lam-ila, @jesseeka, @come-hell-or-eldren-fire, @creativeautistic, @lemonsandraspberries, @heyitsaloy, @987coley, @marvel-sw-lover, @just-shut-up-kid, @atlas-iswatching, @multifandomsw, @oliviajdjarin, @eeopxlt, @tomskookie, @venusacrossthestars, @sanscas, @veralii, @a-rose-of-amber, @i-own-loki, @lil-writer-523, @starry-supernova, @qweenrogerina, @darkenwolfie, @mischiefnevermanaged94, @tragerlover, @pxl8ed, @peonyophelia, @fullmoonshadowwrites, @Itsavicf, @professionalfangrrl, @immortalbloodhuntress, @scentedthingtidalwave, @reiya-djarin, @canvasandclay333, @fordo-kixed-rex, @jxvipike, @anidiotwhoreads, @sgt-morgan, @krussyfed, @lupinpetersclearwaterodairparker, @local-mr-frog, @itzagothamcitysiren, @jellybeanstacey0519, @piratequeen-impact, @cheoriemoawa, @crazyworldofsiani, @luvmeijii, @magic-without-bloop, @warmdragonfly, @ponyboys-sunsets, @dilfsaremyfavourite, @hello-th3r3, @thereaperisabitch, @seventhomen, @clichedream, @momc95, @zanzann, @witch-of-the-teapot, @h-owlpost, @djarintreble, @jamiethenerdymonster, @chaimantis, @nerdgirl-21, @myloveistoolittle, @Bellaaaspamsss What’s This?

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celabi · 2 years

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(Hi its the Scara vs Cat anon el oh el) Hear me out, Scummy Scara with a darling who is equally (or almost) as scummy but isn't as open. Darling staring at his hands, making mental notes on how those fingers would feel inside of thei-

I mean what? Darling was just admiring his rings!

He doesn't have rings? Darling will make up something else!

And when Scara confessed, darling was over the mOOOON!

at first the relationship is so awkward its just

"hi"

"wyd."

"you hopefully"

"what?"

and thats when Scara realized they were DOWN BAAAAD. Would purposely tease darling over it not knowing it turns them on

AND WHEN THEY DO FINALLY GET INTIMATE DARLING HAS A WHOLE ASS LIST OF WHAT THEY WANT

"can u tie my hands together w ur tie 🥺🥺🥺👉👈"

2 scumbags feeding off each others scumminess while at the same time #couplegoalzzz😍😍😍😍

You have no idea how many scummy scara x scummy gf requests I have in my drafts it’s crazy 😭 but I love it sm and hopefully post it soon

Please just, one day accidentally you see him spit in the drink he went and got for you, and you just sit excitedly and wait for him to hand it to you 🥺🥺 wow that’s so gross but he loves you that much he wants to have his saliva in your mouth ahhhhhhhhhh so cute

#anon #scummy scara :(#yandere scaramouche

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campbyler · 9 months

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BHDSDNSJDBKSJDK S OMFG OMFG I GIGGLED LIKE A MANIAC LIKE THE WHOLE TIME I WAS READING HOLY SHIT AHHHHHHHHHH THEY ARE SUCH STUPID IN LOVE IDIOTS "yes youre obsessed with me" HOLY SHIT THE SASS OH MY GODDDDDD I WAS LIKE WHAT IS HAPPENING IS MIKE TAKING HIM ON A DATE HOLY SHIT AND THEN HE WAS BUT I DONT THINK WILL KNOWS IT WAS A DATE SBDSKNKJS THE COOL COOL MOMENT SDBSHD JS BSFHBSJDBS WILL LIKES HOW MIKE DRIVES OMFGG THEY LIKE HOLDING EACH OTHERS HANDS IM LITERALLY GONNA START SQUEALING okay mike is so real for his oshawatt pin on his fanny pack also ngl i kinda forgor that will works at starbucks but also like of course he does i feel like thats just a fact that everyone should know OMFGGG THEY ARE BOTH THE MOST CLINGY BITCHES EVER NHJSBUBHJWSBJ "engaging in behavior usually reserved for amusement park queues" HELP WHEN I TELL YOU I WAS TRYING NOT TO LAUGH OUT LOUD SO BADLY THAT I GOT LIGHTHEADED AND ALMOST FELL OUT OF MY BED I AM NOT FUCKING KIDDING I WAS OUT OF BREATH AND WHEEZING FOR LIKE FIVE MINUTES AND HAD TO TAKE A BREAK FROM READING NHJBSHBDKS THEY ARE SO FUCKING CLINGY OH MY GOD the vulnerablility 🥺🥺 they are being do soft with each other 🥺🥺 mike is finally opening up 🥺🥺🥺🥺 i love his car shopping list and his reasons 🥺🥺🥺🥺 also jesus FUCKING christ ted is fucking crazy that makes me so angry that he would do that and that it made such a lasting impact on mike that all those years later he would be worried about that happening to him its not okay OMFG OF COURSE HIS PASSWORD IS KERMIT HE IS SO SILLY NSDSHBDSB BESBDNSNDDNKJSNDB HES GONNA TEACH WILL HOW TO DRIVE HIS CAR OMFG OMFG OMFG THAT IS PROBABLY SO INTIMATE FOR HIM TOO BECAUSE THE CAR IS SUPPOSED TO BE HIS BECAUSE NO ONE KNOWS HOW TO DRIVE HIS CAR AND NOW HES TEACHING WILL HOW TO DRIVE HIS CAR JUST SBHSBDKSNDIJNSFS

you fr knocked this one out of the fucking park thea like full on grand slam, everyone made it to home and the ball went so far we couldnt even see where it landed i am very thankful that you guys take the time to write these chapters so well anyway happy holidays 🫶 (and merry july in christmas lmao)

AHHHH OMGGGGG SUCH A LENGTHY REACTION I HAVE BEEN SO BLESSED!! LET ME TRY TO RESPOND PROPERLY (picture me cracking my knuckles without cracking them ty)

i am loving this play by play of everything!! i do need u to know that this has been Exactly what my brain has been doing on overdrive since likeeeee. february or march when we first drafted the concept for ch9 😭😭😭 i loveeeeed including the detail of mike's fanny pack and it's def most of the reason why i really want to draw their outfits!! i think will's starbucks job has either only been mentioned once or has only been mentioned on this blog, but it's a very important part of the universe #2 #me 💚 ALSO HELLLOOO I HOPE YOU ARE ALIVE AND OK AFTER ALMOST FALLING OUT OF YOUR BED???

i will sayyyy the ted story was definitely a bit of projection teehee (thanks #mom) but i did think it fit superrr well and was a really strong reason for why owning the car would be so important to him! i was so excited to be able to have him open up this chapter as well :')

i did have to debate between using snoopy and kermit for mike's passcode but kermit won out!! also YESSSS U ARE HITTING THE NAIL ON THE HEAAADDDDDDD!!!!!!!!!

ty so so so MUCHHH for your kind words and huge reaction, i'm so glad you enjoyed!! happy holidays and merry christmas in july!!!

#asks #ch09 #acswy spoilers #i keep saying YOU'VE HEARD OF CHRISTMAS IN JULY NOW GET READY FOR JULY IN CHRISTMAS!!!!!!!!!

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theboywithburninghands · 5 months

Text

Hey all. Last chapter of the latest Bunnyrabbitdoll arc... thing. Longest thing I've written by far. Light on the fluff, heavy on the horror and dark comedy. Hope you enjoy. T/W: Gore, body horror, guns, arachnophobia The Dollhouse Final Part: Kill All Monsters

Caine and Bubble are relaxing on a digital beach, both of them sporting sunglasses and matching towels. Caine is still in his full ringmaster outfit and Bubble can’t actually lay down, so he hovers an inch or two above his towel. Layla sits on their picnic basket, playing some beach music. Caine sips from an empty coconut shell through a crazy straw. Caine: BOY, THIS IS THE LIFE, ISN’T IT BUBBLE?

Bubble: I feel like a million deer, Caine! *eats a seashell*

Caine: A GUY COULD GET USED TO A LITTLE R&R! Bubble: Reading and writing? Caine: OH HO HO NO, YOU ABSOLUTE SIMPLETON! REST AND RELAXATION! IT’S HARD TO COME BY RUNNING A DIGITAL CIRCUS EVERY DAY FOR [error: not found: value] YEARS! THAT’S WHY I LET SOME OF MY SELF-REGULATING AI RUN ADVENTURES NOW AND THEN!

Bubble: You mean like me?

Caine: RIGHT! WE’RE ONE BIG HAPPY FAMILY HERE, AND FAMILIES WORK TOGETHER! AND RELAX TOGETHER!

Bubble looked around. They were the only ones on the beach for miles.

Bubble: Hmm… Do you think the performers are okay?

Caine: I’D BET YOU A COMBO MEAL AT SPUDSY’S THAT THEY’RE HAVING THE TIME OF THEIR NON-ABSTRACTED LIVES RIGHT NOW!

Bubble: Good enough for me, boss! *he pulls a sun mirror from Hammerspace and flips it open, setting it in front of him* Ahhhhhhhhhh…

Caine: WORKING ON YOUR TAN THERE, BUBBLE?

Bubble: Heating myself up! It’s fun to feel myself boil!

Caine: *laughs* Oh, you crack me up.

—

Back in Crazy Caine’s House of Tricks, Pomni paced back and forth, tapping the hatchet she found on her palm. Ragatha sat in the corner, near Jax, but with enough distance between them so his stench isn’t unbearable. Jax himself drifts in and out of consciousness, delirious.

Jax: Hey… Hey Pompom. Pompoooom.

Pomni: *sighs* What?

Jax: Wh-What is the scariest tree in the forest..?

Pomni: What? What kind of question-

Jax: Bam-BOO! *makes jazz hands and laughs so hard he coughs, followed by a groan of pain*

Pomni rolled her eyes and continued to pace. Ragatha gave a small, polite laugh at Jax’s terrible joke. Pomni: Where are the others..? They have to be in their own puzzle rooms, right?

Ragatha: All three of us got one. Well, you skipped yours. Maybe we should try doing what you did and climb up the slide?

Jax: My foot hurts…

Ragatha: I know Jax, we’ll get it fixed soon, okay hun?

Pomni: We can’t. The doors locked behind us… *she jiggles the handle of the door Jax fled through to demonstrate*

Ragatha: You tried chopping it down with your ax?

Jax: Heeeere’s POMNI! *laughs himself into coughing again*

Pomni: I could try… but these seem pretty sturdy. I might break it.

Ragatha: It’s worth a shot. Beats sitting in the dark and twiddling our thumbs.

Pomni: I guess… Should I just… pick one?

Jax: Not my door… It’s still in there.

Ragatha: Why don’t you do mine? You already killed that monster…

Pomni: Okay. Pomni stood in front of Ragatha’s door, taking a deep breath and flexing her arms. She then readied her hatchet.

Pomni: …Here we go. Pomni took a mighty swing at the door. With a brittle crunch, the wooden handle broke off, leaving the hatchet-head buried a few inches into the door for a moment before falling out and clanging to the floor. Jax burst into laughter for a third time.

Ragatha: Oh no…

Pomni looked at the broken handle for a moment before balling her fists and hurling it against the wall, where it ricocheted and skittered across the floor.

Ragatha: Pomni, I’m sorry. That was a terrible idea…

Pomni: No-! No, it really wasn’t. It was a good idea, it just… didn’t work.

Ragatha covered her face, Pomni ceasing her pacing and going over to her.

Pomni: Ragatha, I’m sorry, it really was a good idea, I didn’t mean to…

Ragatha: No, it’s okay. It’s okay, I just… It’s horrible here, yeah, but it’s never this horrible… something has to be wrong…

Pomni: What do you mean?

Ragatha: I mean… you saw what was after me… you saw what that monster did to Jax-

Jax appeared to be entertaining himself by seeing how many fingers he could stick through the wound in his foot.

Ragatha: It’s not supposed to be like this… it’s bad but it’s not… not…

Pomni: Not?

Ragatha: Not Rated M…

Pomni: Who cares? We’re alive. And when we get out of this place we can tell Caine exactly how we feel…

Ragatha: …I guess I’ve just gotten used to a specific kind of horror…

Pomni hugged the ragdoll, who gratefully squeezed her back. It was a lot easier to hug her girlfriend with so many other anxieties tuning out her haphephobia.

Pomni: We’ll get out of here. It’s just another stupid adventure, right?

Jax: Hey… where’s my hug?

Pomni: You’ll get one after you’ve had a bath.

Jax: I won’t. You just think I’m ugly…

Pomni: No, I think you stink. Big difference.

Jax: …My foot really hurts.

One of the doors flew open with a crash and Zooble stumbled out of it, clutching what appeared to be a double-barreled shotgun.

Zooble: I SAID GET BACK, YOU UGLY SON OF A B!#€#! GET AWAY FROM ME!

Zooble snapped their shotgun closed just as a clawed, skinless humanoid hand the size of a car wrapped its fingers around the doorframe. A head, skin so tight around its face it more resembled a skull, crammed its way into the doorframe. It had eyes like pools of fog and a long, serpentine tongue, grinning hatefully

Zooble: Yeah. Keep smiling.

Zooble aimed their gun at the creature and fired. The kickback from the weapon sent their torso and arms flying, their head twirling about in the air before landing on the floor and their legs blindly stumbling about. Luckily, they were dead-on with their shot and hit the ghoul creature square in the forehead, fog gushing out of the wound as it clamped its bony hand over it. Zooble’s arms and torso, sitting several feet away from their head, aimed the shotgun once again, using their claw as a mount, and fired. The kickback from this blast blew Zooble’s right arm off their body, but the buckshot found its mark in the ghoul’s jaw, severing it neatly from the rest of the skull, so that it swung back and forth like the pendulum of a clock. It shrieked and gushed a torrent of fog from its maw that appeared to freeze the ground below it, shoving its way back into the doorway, the door slamming shut and locking behind it.

Zooble: F@&$in’ @$$#@!€… their right arm crawls its way back to their body, abandoning the empty gun on the floor. The right arm reaches their torso and their left reattaches it. Then, Zooble’s headless and legless torso pushes itself up so it balances on its hand and claw and ambles its way to their head. They put their head back on and rest a moment.

Jax: *points* Gun.

Zooble twisted their head around before relaxing at the sight of their fellow performers.

Zooble: Sweet J£$&$, it’s just you guys… gimme a second.

Zooble grabbed their wandering legs and hoisted themselves up onto them, twitching each foot to ensure proper connection before taking a few careful steps towards Pomni and the others. They stopped, cringing and covering where their nose might have been with their claw.

Zooble: God, it stinks in here…

Pomni: Sorry. It’s Jax. His monster pretty much had him in Its mouth…

Zooble: Ugh… *keeping their claw up* So… you three made it out. And you all ran into monsters too?

Pomni: I sort of skipped mine by climbing back up the slide and forcing the trapdoor open… I had a weapon too, but it just broke. *she picks up the head of the hatchet*

Zooble: Really? D@##, that gun only had two shells. I looked all over that stupid lodge for supplies…

Jax: Hodgepodge in a lodge… hee hee.

Zooble: What’s with him?

Ragatha: He got bitten by his monster too. I think it might have had something on Its teeth, ‘cause he’s been acting like that for a while.

Jax: *watching his own hand move* My hands make after-hands.

Pomni: Are you alright though, Zooble? Ragatha was just telling me-

Zooble: Oh yeah, dandy. Peachy keen. Nothing like nearly getting frozen by a giant ice wraith to put a little skip in your step.

Ragatha: You were better than I was. Pomni had to kill my monster for me.

Zooble: …Pomni? Really?

Pomni: You don’t need to sound so shocked.

Zooble: I mean, no offense, newbie, but you don’t give off “killer” energy.

Jax: It’s because she loves her!

Pomni blushed hot pink and Ragatha rather brusquely cleared her throat.

Ragatha: He’s uh, not in his right mind. I just got lucky that Pomni stumbled into my escape room…

Zooble: So that leaves Gangle and Kinger unaccounted for.

Ragatha: Right…

Pomni: They have to be inside one of the doors we haven’t used yet. And since they can really hurt us, they might be in big trouble.

Zooble: So what do we do?

Pomni: Well, there’s seven doors. One for each of us, and one that must lead out of here, or deeper into this place, God forbid…

Jax: That one. It’s different…

Jax pointed to a door on the opposite wall from where he was sitting. It was the only door on that wall, and it appeared to have three small, colored lights on it, no brighter than those on a Christmas tree. Pomni, Ragatha and Zooble all approached the door. There were six lightbulbs, two vertical rows of three, on a small panel. A fuschia, periwinkle and red light were illuminated, while the other three were dark. A small bronze plaque above the lights was barely readable in the soft red-violet glow.

Pomni: “Should you give in to your pain,

In this house, you will remain.

‘Tis only after fear is slain

That you can go home again.”

Zooble pointed to each of the illuminated lights.

Zooble: Pink for me, purple for Jax, red for Ragatha.

Ragatha: So the other three are Kinger, Gangle-

Pomni: And me. I have to do mine…

Ragatha: But you skipped it… How are you going to get back in there, all the doors are locked…

Pomni: Let’s worry about that in a bit. Gangle and Kinger haven’t beaten their rooms yet.

Ragatha: But the doors are locked.

Pomni: Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try.

Pomni picked up the empty shotgun and the blade of the broken hatchet.

Pomni: See if any of the doors open for you. If they don’t, and they probably won’t, try to smash the handles off with the butt of this. *she hands Ragatha the gun* I don’t see a deadbolt, so it must just be a lock on the handle…

Zooble: What if you’re wrong? What if we get stuck in here?

Pomni: Then I’m wrong, and we’re stuck. But we tried.

Pomni jiggled the handle on one of the doors they hadn’t tried yet. To no one’s surprise, it was locked, so she took the axehead and began to smash it down on the handle. Ragatha set to work on another one of the doors, testing the handle and then starting the process of bashing it off with the shotgun. Jax covered his ears at the sudden noise.

What felt like ages of continuous bashing finally ended when Ragatha and Zooble succeeded in knocking off their door’s handle, with it clanging to the floor in several bent and twisted pieces. Ragatha pulled on the hole where the handle once was and the door opened with a crunch.

Ragatha: Yes!

Zooble: I’ll be d@##ed.

Pomni: Oh, good work guys! *puts down the axehead, panting with exertion* Okay, let’s go in and help…

Ragatha: Wait, what about Jax- oh.

Jax snorted in his sleep, kicking his uninjured foot and slumping a little further down the wall.

Pomni: Looks like he’ll be okay for a little while. *she smiles* I’m glad he could get at least a little rest…

Zooble: You know, this is pretty much what he acts like even when he isn’t tripping on monster venom…

The three of them chortled, but it died down quickly. They had work to do. Ragatha opened the door and they slipped inside, Zooble carrying the empty gun just in case.

They exited into what appeared to be a forest, the door attached to a brick wall, the only man made structure in the vicinity. It slammed shut behind them. The ivy-snared trees stretched high out of view, the suffocating canopy of leaves blocking just about all natural light. The grass was overgrown and clumpy, so tall that Pomni had to push it out of the way to keep it from getting in her mouth. Crickets and other insects chirred, and the entire area had the dense smell of wet moss.

Zooble: Hmm. *they hold up their hand and claw, calling out* HEY GANGLE?! KINGER?! YOU OUT THERE?

In the distance, there was another shout. Too high pitched and delicate to be the echo of Zooble’s voice.

Ragatha: Gangle!

The three of them took off into the woods. Pomni could hardly see an inch in front of her due to the tall, knotted grass, and her foot soon snagged on a root and she fell forward.

Pomni: OOF!

The jester swore to herself and began to pick herself up off the ground, only to squeak when a pair of hands wrapped about her midsection and hoisted her into the air. She was seated down on a pair of plush shoulders, a tangle of red curls and a purple bow between her legs.

Ragatha: *smiling up at her* Watch your head, okay?

Ragatha continued running, Pomni leaning onto her head for support. The jester felt her face warm up despite the cool air rushing by her cheeks. This was much better… She had no idea Ragatha was that strong.

The group continued onward, following Gangle’s cries, until they came onto a clearing between two mighty trees. Strung between them was a spider web, woven with thick yet gossamer threads to be about the size of a California king bed. In the middle hung Gangle, her body a mess of knots and her lips quavering. She gasped upon seeing the three of them.

Gangle: Guys! You made it… please get me down, I don’t know when she’s coming back…

Zooble: Okay, hold still. Pomni, you’re the tallest right now, break the threads.

Zooble handed Pomni the gun, and she stuck the barrels of it up towards one of the threads holding Gangle in place.

Gangle: Th-That thing isn’t loaded is it?!

Ragatha: Gangle, we wouldn’t do that to you- ow my neck.

Pomni: Sorry Ragatha…

The canopy above them whispered ever so slightly, a few dead leaves drifting down upon them. Gangle looked up as best she could and gasped.

Gangle: She’s coming, please get me down, guys, please!

Pomni hit one of the silk threads with the barrel of the gun, and it stuck fast. Pomni yanked on the stock of the weapon, but the threads stretched taut like bungee cords. A 12-foot long spindly black leg emerged from the treeline above them with slow, surgical precision, testing its grip on one of the parallel tree trunks before settling it down.

Zooble: That’s a big-@$$ spider…

Pushing through the leaves and branches emerged an arachnid, jet black and the size of a rhinoceros. A cluster of eight, milky white fish egg eyes sat on her almost disproportionately small head. Her pincers clicked together greedily as she climbed on eight light and nimble feet down to the web.

Gangle: Help me! Help me, please, help me!

Ragatha: Pomni, get the gun unstuck!

Pomni: I’m really trying! It’s like steel wire!

Pomni was on her feet by this point, balancing on Ragatha’s shoulders and pulling on the shotgun as hard as she could. Her gloves slipped and she was sent flying backwards off of Ragatha’s shoulders, who had to rapidly spin her arms for balance. The shotgun remained stuck to the web, the spider advancing past it towards Gangle, frothy drool dribbling onto her mask.

Gangle: NO! GO AWAY!

Ragatha: Hold on Gangle! I’m coming!

Ragatha, using her height to her advantage, crouched and jumped up, grabbing onto the shotgun with one hand. Her legs pinwheeled in the air. The enormous spider was jostled about as she prepared to sink her fangs into Gangle, stumbling and turning her ghostly eyes towards Ragatha.

Pomni: *just now climbing to her feet# Ragatha wait, don’t get stuck!

Ragatha: I’m not gonna get stuck, I-

The rag doll lifted up her other arm to grasp the shotgun, pulling the trigger by mistake. Instead of the expected click of the hammer striking an empty chamber, there was a deafening bang and a muzzle flash the size of a manhole cover. The gun fired, catapulting Ragatha back onto the grass and sending buckshot directly into the spider’s face, breaking a few threads of her web.

The arachnid’s head burst like a rotten melon, chunky, bright white slurry pouring from the stump that was left behind. Her legs twitched a few times before she tumbled off and hit the overgrown forest floor, her legs curling up. Stone dead.

Gangle: YOU SAID IT WASN’T LOADED!

Zooble: IT WASN’T LOADED!

Gangle: *practically sobbing# YOU ALMOST SHOT ME!!!

Zooble: IT. WASN’T. LOADED! It’s a double-barreled shotgun! What, did another shell just APPEAR in the barrel?!

Pomni snapped the gun open after a few tries as Ragatha worked on getting Gangle down from the web. A spent shell casing, smoking hot, dropped onto the grass, along with a live one.

Pomni: I guess it did just appear in the barrel… *puts the live round back into the gun and snaps it closed*

The gunshot had ripped through a few of the threads in the spider’s web, making it much easier to pull Gangle free now that a lot of the tautness was gone. Ragatha only had to reach up on her tiptoes to grab Gangle by one of her ribbons and yank her free. The pile of ribbons fell into Ragatha’s arms and promptly burst into tears, full-on spouts of water erupting from the eyeholes of her mask.

Zooble: Ah… Gangle, I’m sorry, we really didn’t know it was loaded…

Ragatha: Zooble used both shots on their own monster, we never reloaded it… it must replenish ammo on its own…

Gangle sniffled and sobbed a few more times before managing to calm herself down enough to speak.

Gangle: I-I believe you… I was just… it was so scary… I was stuck up there for ages waiting for her to come back, I screamed and I screamed for help and I thought it was never gonna come…

Pomni: …All of us are scared, Gangle. But once we find Kinger and I complete my challenge, it’ll be over.

Gangle: *wet sniffle* Challenge..?

Pomni: Yeah. All of us completed a puzzle room like this… well, I actually sort of skipped mine. Long story. Let’s just go back to the nexus…

Zooble: The what?

Pomni: The room with all the doors. It’s called a nexus I think.

Ragatha: Very Metroidvania of you, Pomni. *she smiles, then looks down at Gangle, still a pile in her arms# Can you walk, Gangle?

Gangle: Um… I don’t know…

Ragatha: Don’t sweat it. I’ll carry you to the nexus. You’re pretty light.

Gangle: …Thank you.

The four of them walked back to the door. The chilly air and ambience of the forest was nearly soothing on the group’s inflamed nerves. Pomni pushed her way through the tall grass; it was manageable when she didn’t need to run full tilt, but a part of her wished she was back on Ragatha’s shoulders.

Zooble: Let’s hope Jax hasn’t wandered off.

Gangle: Jax is with you guys..? Is he okay?

Ragatha: He’s- Well… he’s hurt, but okay. He got bitten by his monster and we think it may have been venomous or something, because he’s acting really loopy.

Zooble: It’s kind of entertaining.

They reached the solitary brick wall. Zooble reached out to open the door, but someone pulled it open from the other side.

Zooble: Kinger..!

The eldest member of the group stood on the other side of the door, trembling more than usual. In his left hand he held a meat cleaver, stained with something blue. Flecks of the same blue substance stained his face, gloves and robe.

Kinger: Glad to know you…

The four of them cautiously slipped by Kinger back into the Nexus. They were soon hit by the putrid smell of rotten corn and winced. Jax was exactly where they left him, sleeping like a rock.

Gangle: It smells really bad in here…

Pomni: I know, it’s Jax… he got it probably the worst out of all of us. *she leans the shotgun against the wall# B-But what happened to you, Kinger? You killed your monster?

Kinger: Monster..?

Pomni: Uh, yeah, in your escape room…?

Kinger: I… I remember books…

Ragatha: Books? *she sets Gangle down*

Kinger: Books and- and black candles- and cheesecake… *puts his hands to the side of his head*

Zooble: Okay, okay Kinger. Sounds like you had a rough go of things… Just gonna…

Zooble took the cleaver from Kinger’s hand with no resistance.

Kinger: I need my pillows…

Ragatha: We’re going to get you your pillows as soon as we get out of here, okay? You saved us a whole lot of time by finishing your puzzle on your own.

Gangle: Hey…

Ragatha: No, I didn’t mean it lik-

Pomni tuned out the conversation to stare at one of the doors. It seemed to be drawing her towards it… almost whispering to her.

Pomni: *Points to it* That’s my door. It was made for me.

Everyone stopped and looked at the door with Pomni. Jax blearily opened his eyes, curiously tilting his head at what everyone was looking at.

Ragatha: Well… with all six of us, it shouldn’t be that hard to finish, right?

Zooble: More like five, since Jax is… indisposed.

Jax: Who are you calling in this clothes?! These are MY clothes!

Pomni went and picked up the shotgun, double checking the shells. One spent, one live. One shot. She sighed and snapped it closed.

Pomni: Let’s get this over with… Zooble, you can probably use the cleaver to- HUUUUUAAAAAAHHHHH!

Pomni felt herself yanked backwards with enough force to give her whiplash. She rocketed towards her door, which swung itself open to swallow her up.

Ragatha: POMNI-!

Even if Ragatha had perfect timing, she couldn’t have caught up to her girlfriend in time. By the time she had taken three steps, the jester was across the threshold and the door slammed shut with a teeth-chattering bang, locking itself.

——

Pomni awoke in darkness. Her head swam, and her upset equilibrium couldn’t tell if she was sitting up or hanging upside down. She felt around in the dark, her gloved hand grasping the shotgun laying beside her. So she was right side up, good start.

There was a clunk somewhere and she was blinded, covering her eyes with the back of her hand. A tinny buzz signaled that she was under some lights. She felt her pupils constrict painfully as she squinted at her surroundings.

It was an office. An almost perfect imitation of symmetrical, focus-grouped blandness. The cheap carpet beneath her was an inoffensive green, the walls sterile, corporate white, and the drop ceiling above her lit with fluorescent, brain-itching lights. A few posters showing nonsensical cartoons sparsely decorated the walls. One had a man throwing a fish back into the lake he just caught it from with “Keep on The On Keeping On” overlaid over the sky in impact font, another showing an orange house cat looking up curiously at a T-Rex, with the quote “If at First You Don’t Succeed, Bite Off Your Tongue and Change Your Name to Xerxes” on the bottom, attributed to Buster Keaton.

There was a large table set up between the two rows of cubicles, empty bowls that may have contained chips or punch sitting on them, with a few cheap pink party hats and paper plates littering the floor. It wasn’t at all clear what the party was celebrating, the only clue being a lone greeting card laying on the table. Pomni brought along the shotgun and picked up the card. It was totally blank on the front apart from some words written in silver.

Pomni: “To our new Employee.” *she flips it open*

“The time for riddles has since passed,

For you are the very last.

We present to you a terror pure

That, by yourself, you must endure.”

One of the tiles on the drop ceiling was knocked loose, falling onto a desk and snapping in two. An arm emerged from the hole in the ceiling, a long, purple arm with a bright yellow glove on the end.

Pomni: Jax?

Another arm emerged from the ceiling, this one soft and plush, a hand with three fingers…

Voice: Pom… niiiiii…

Pomni: Oh my god…

A head emerged from the dark, or rather, two heads. Jax and Ragatha’s heads, squished together cheek-to-cheek and sloppily melted into one another like plastic. Their eyes were blank and staring, the middle eye fused together with Jax’s yellow sclera bleeding into Ragatha’s white, their mouth a single, grotesque combination of Jax’s yellow teeth and Ragatha’s sweet painted smile. Their entire body below the chest was a mass of squirming black flesh and multicolored eyes, exactly the same as Kaufmo’s was. Abstracted.

Creature: Pom…niiii….

It fell from the drop ceiling onto the floor, out of sight behind the cubicles. Pomni, her hands quaking, aimed at the cubicles with the shotgun, doing her best to look down the ironsights without dropping it. She only had one shot…

The creature rounded the corner slowly, dragging its combined weight on just its hands. The black abstracted goo stuck to the floor behind it and left a nauseating snail-trail. The creature mewled in agony.

Creature: Pom… ni…. It hurts…

Pomni: …

The creature leapt forward and grabbed the barrel of the gun, pushing it out of the way and grabbing onto Pomni’s leg. A disgusting, earthworm-like tongue shot out of its mouth and wrapped around her leg as it whined piteously.

Creature: Pom… niiii… why didn’t you… save us… please… make it stop….

Pomni: Okay.

Pomni pressed the muzzle of the gun to the creature’s dual foreheads, and it barely had time to look confused before Pomni pulled the trigger and blasted off the top of its head. There was a squidgy explosion of black abstraction goo that rained down on the cheap green floors and into the food bowls. The amalgamated creature, the top of its head now a fine oily paste, slid to the ground off of Pomni’s leg. Pomni stepped back, looking up at the ceiling.

Pomni: …You wanted me to run, right? You wanted me to run away. I… I think I’m done with that. There’s no point in running, right? Because there’s no escape. Running only makes things worse, delays the inevitable. Well. Mission accomplished, I guess. You scared me. But I killed your little monster. So… I’d like to get back to my nightmare now.

She dropped the gun on the floor and opened the exit door, closing it behind her politely.

——

Back on the digital beach, Caine and Bubble were still relaxing. A rift opened up a few feet away and the six performers tumbled out onto the sand.

Jax: Caine! Bubble! My guuuuuuuys- *makes finger guns at them as he flops onto his back, starting to make a sand angel*

Caine: GADZOOKS! YOU ALL MADE IT OUT OF THERE! CONGRATULATIONS ON DEFEATING THE FIRST EVER PROCEDURALLY GENERATED ADVENTURE!

Caine snapped his fingers and the six of them were immediately clean. The hole in Jax’s foot knit closed and he sat up, blinking.

Jax: What the- Wh… where am I? Oh, man, why do I smell so bad… *covers his mouth and where his nose would be#

Layla hopped with joy and went over to Kinger, who caught her in his hands and pet her.

Kinger: Layla! So good to see you…

Pomni: Hold on. Procedurally generated?

Caine: THAT’S RIGHT, POMNI! USING OUR CLASSIFIED DEFINITELY LEGAL TECHNOLOGY, MY NEW AI PROBED YOUR BRAINS TO-

Pomni: You… left us in that h€!!hole… didn’t even bother to check on us… nearly let us die… and you didn’t even make it yourself. You spent… ALL OF TODAY just sitting on a BEACH?!

Caine: …………Well, everyone deserves a break now and then-

With a howl of Barbarian rage, Pomni grabbed the meat cleaver from Zooble’s claw and took a swing at Caine.

Caine: WOAH! HEY NOW, TAKE IT EASY-

Pomni: I’M GONNA STAB YOU TO DEATH AND PLAY IN YOUR BLOOD!

Caine: I DON’T HAVE ANY BLOOD- *ducks another swipe* HEY, WAIT-

Pomni continued to chase Caine around the beach with the knife, the ringmaster pitifully trying to calm the madwoman down. The performers watched the chaos with some gratification. Bubble slid them a bucket of seashells.

Bubble: You guys want one?

Everyone: No.

Bubble: More for me! *he downs the entire bucket in one go*

Caine: WATCH THE COAT! WATCH THE COAT-

#the amazing digital circus #funnybunny #buttonblossom #jax x pomni #pomni x ragatha #oh no cringe #horror #tadc pomni #tadc jax #tadc ragatha #tadc gangle #tadc zooble #tadc kinger #tadc caine #tadc bubble

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