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boots-with-the-fur-club · 5 months

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Chapter 2 of These Are Not Our Masks!

@daboyau

@that-0n3-shr00mi3-guy

@iobsesswaytoomuch

@sady-is-secretly-an-alchemist

@dluebirb

Let me know if anyone wants to be added to the tag list! And please let me know if I forgot someone!

Donnie and Mikey land on top of the skate ramp of their lair with a thump. Donnie wants to think about the logic of Leo sending them to this area of all places but the reality of the situation sinks in.

Half of them are missing.

The Foot probably have Raph and Leo.

He drops the pieces of his tech bō and hits his fist on the ground.

“All I needed was time! I might have been able to get us all out!”

Mikey grips his shoulder.

“Donnie! We have to get dad and April! Now! We have to go help them!”

Donnie takes a quick breath then nods and slides down the ramp with him. They both run as fast as possible to where their father is sleeping on his recliner.

Mikey tearfully shakes him.

“Dad! They took them!”

Splinter snorts awake, only opening one eye before closing it again.

“Learn to share boys, don’t take each other’s things….”

Donnie stands in front of him, tense hands at his sides in fists.

“Raph and Leo are gone!”

Splinter jumps out of his seat.

“What!? Where!? How!?”

Mikey starts rambling so fast that neither of them can understand them.

Donnie places his hand over his mouth.

“Raph was possessed by a mask and The Foot showed up! Leo got us to safety but they probably took the both of them!”

Mikey moves the hand, holding it close.

“We need to get them back!”

Splinter’s mind races a mile a minute.

“Let April know, we’re going to need her help.”

Donnie quickly texts an SOS message for her to meet them at the lair. He’s not sure how calling her would go.

She might start trying to find them by herself and he can’t let her get taken too.

“Done. I’m grabbing some things from my lab in the meantime.”

Mikey squeezes his hand again.

“Can I come with you too?”

Donnie glances at Splinter who he swears is greying more than ever at the moment despite it not being scientifically possible to happen so fast.

“Stay here with father. I won’t take long.

Mikey slowly let’s go of his hand hugs Splinter tightly instead.

Splinter hugs back just as tight.

Donnie leaves the two to head towards his lab.

Once he gets there, he stares at the hologram framed photos he keeps on the wall.

He remembers why they’re there.

Before he had gotten better at keeping his lab on lockdown, Raph went inside to look for a weight Donnie had borrowed to use for an invention.

That’s how Donnie walked in on Raph absolutely bawling his eyes out over a photo of him kept in a desk drawer.

That’s also how he came across both Mikey and Leo during the next couple of days after that pretending they weren’t looking for photos of themselves as well.

The obvious decision was having photos of all of them that could switch out daily so that no one would feel he was picking favorites.

Purely logical, it’s not like his mysterious bad boy self cared about the emotions behind it.

He also definitely never checked the footage from the security camera in the lab to see his brothers come look at the photos.

His finger gingerly touches the photo of Raph and Leo play wrestling.

It was a far cry from the fight that happened earlier.

“It figures that it was the two of you that were taken…..I’m going to get you back as quickly as possible and never let you forget I did. How dare you force me to take over responsibility this way?”

“Dude, you’re totally like just talking to yourself right now.” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. comments as he flies over.

“You’re acting like that’s a rare occurrence. I need you to gather up as much as my tech as you can and power up the tracker monitor.”

“Oh no, are our bros missing?”

Donnie sighs.

“Yes. Raph and Leo. Most likely kidnapped.”

“I’ll get right on it. Leo was supposed to sneak me out to play basketball, he needs to come back.” S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. goes to do as he’s been asked.

Donnie knows he should be mad that Leo was going to go behind his shell but honestly he finds it nice that his brothers treat S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. like a nephew in a similar way that he treats him like a son.

He sighs.

It’s annoying to be so easily swayed by how much he loves his brothers sometimes.

Of course it was never too often because he will shove someone into a wall for a pizza slice if need be but it still happens.

Eventually, his robotic son comes back with the battle shell containing all his weaponry and a bag filled with smaller items he’s been tinkering with.

He’s never, ever going to admit that they’re new gifts he made because he felt guilty about the original ones.

Donnie also gets handed the tracker tablet and quickly sets it up.

“Both of them are in Foot headquarters. Problematic, but at least it’s a location we’re already aware of. Help me take everything to father and Mikey.”

The two of them begin making their way back.

Donnie pauses when he sees the symbols representing Raph and Leo blink away. He panics, knowing that the trackers are under their skin so the only way they could be removed would be painful.

Panic fades into confusion when they appear again in a different location.

The lair.

Did they manage to get away?

He hears screaming coming from where he left Mikey and Splinter.

S.H.E.L.L.D.O.N. and Donnie heavily pick up the pace to their destination.

They get there just in time to see Raph and Leo attacking their brother and father.

Donnie fills with fear as he sees that Leo is sporting a mask now too, bringing along two katanas instead of his usual, singular odachi.

These katanas have an unnatural green glow radiating off them and seem freshly sharpened.

Leo himself has all his muscles tensed up as if he’s been extremely deliberate with every movement he’s choosing. It’s a far cry from the typical, more loose and relaxed stance he had before that always gave the false impression of him being unprepared.

“Mikey! Mikey! Want to hear a joke? Come on, you want to! I know you do!” He says in almost a frenzy.

Mikey dodges several jabs from the katanas.

“Leo, you can tell one after you tell me what happened!”

“It’s the best joke you’ll ever hear! Let me tell it! Mikey!”

“Leo! Stop!”

Donnie feels an odd sense of familiarity wash over him as he realize he knows exactly what his brother is doing.

One of Leo’s most obviously qualities is how much he talks. He likes hearing the sound of his own voice. In the past, his distracting Splinter is what allowed them to take snacks from the kitchen without alerting their father.

Now this skill is being used against family again in a much more directly harmful way.

“Watch out! He just the distraction!” Donnie warns too late.

His little brother gets pummeled into the ground by Raph who was just waiting for an opportunity. He lifts him up with just one hand and slams him against the floor hard enough to leave a crack on it.

“Mikey!” Donnie and Splinter shout in unison.

He quickly retracts into his shell to avoid more damage being done.

Donnie reaches into the bag and tosses small, colorful balls at Raph explodes powder all across his face.

It hurts him to do this.

Not because he’s hitting his brother, they do that all the time during pranks and teasing like most brothers do.

It’s because he made these for battle purposes. It’s because he made these with Mikey in mind. It’s because they were all supposed to be able to use them together, not against each other in this way.

Raph growls and hisses as he tries to get the powder out of his eyes. He has difficulty because of the mask around them.

Splinter pulls Mikey shell to safety. It’s pressed close against his chest. He can’t believe this is happening.

Maybe if he had just trained them properly earlier in their lives this wouldn’t have happened. If he just prepared them, remembered what his grandpa tried so hard to teach him, they would know the dangers he placed in the back of his mind.

“Orange! Are you okay!?”

Mikey pokes his head out.

“I am! We need to worry about them!”

Splinter sighs in relief and hands him to Donnie.

“Take care of your brother. I will handle Blue and Red.”

Donnie holds onto Mikey tightly.

“Father, be careful.”

Splinter gently pats his arm and takes a step towards his other sons.

Leo cocks his head, carefully watching him approach. His limbs are twitchy. He taps his katana tips on the ground.

It’s unsure if it’s because he’s ready to strike or he’s still trying to be a distraction.

Raph finally recovers from the powder and opens his eyes. They’re red and teary, but the pupils are slit like an animal ready to strike.

Splinter holds steady.

He’s raised them since the moment they gained consciousness. Despite the moments where getting up was too much to bare, he knew his boys well. He had to in order to help them with their more animalistic tendencies.

Splinter starts reaching his hand out.

Raph opens up his jaw wide, baring his teeth. His snaggle tooth is the most prominent one.

“Red. My sweet boy. I know you are stressed, and you may be scared. Your father is here. I know you don’t wish to hurt me. You just don’t want to be hurt yourself. Please, let me protect you.” Splinter keeps reaching out.

Raph hisses and raises his arm up in warning. Leo bounces from foot to foot in anticipation at the fight to come.

Splinter place his hand over Raph’s and presses their foreheads together.

“I love you.”

Raph’s jaw slowly closes.

He starts whining loudly in a sad way.

“I….I….hurt Mikey. I was gonna hurt you.”

“Shh shh, Orange is fine and you didn’t hurt me. You listened to me. I’m so proud of you.”

Raph smiles softly.

Splinter smiles back.

Leo kicks Splinter in the side, sending him to the floor.

��Dumb and boring! You made me stand too long! Atlas, you know you’re only good for being a beast, Baron Draxum’s attack dog. You can’t kill one measly rat!?”

Raph roars at him.

Leo slams the hilt of his katana into Raph’s skull.

Raph tackles him.

They begin wrestling around.

Leo had always been the one Raph chose to play wrestle with. Raph always gave not so believable excuses for it but Donnie and Mikey knew the real reason.

He was afraid of hurting them.

Leo was different. He took prank hits like a champ. He was the last one after Raph to ever have to go to their dad crying about a a real injury.

He of course would be dramatic about things that weren’t really anything, but not ever actual injuries. Those were hidden behind his smile and a wave of his hand.

This wrestling is vicious.

They trade blows back and forth without a trace of hesitation. Leo’s face remains unbruised because his mask covers basically all of it, but his body is being bruised up.

Raph’s mask is another story so Leo punches and scratches with no remorse. It’s actually the opposite, like he’s enjoying it.

Mikey pops the rest of his limbs out and pushes himself away from Donnie’s grasp. He rushes towards his brothers.

“Mikey! No!” Donnie reaches out, but he’s too fast.

Mikey somehow manages to pull them both apart and away from each other. He has to hold Raph back from going after Leo again.

Leo slides back and hunches forward to go after the two of them.

“Blue! Stop! Those are your brothers!” Splinter shouts.

“They can take a hit! Maybe that’s why I should go a little further.” Leo cackles as he raises one of the katanas.

Raph starts getting harder for Mikey to hold back. Splinter visibly wracks his brain for a way to get through to him before things get bad again.

The click and hiss of Donnie releasing his battle shell causes everyone to look his way. Leo’s body language shows that he’s surprised by this move.

“You want us vulnerable? I’m the most vulnerable you can get and you know it.” Donnie starts walking forward.

Leo doesn’t move at first, but takes a step back when Donnie gets close.

“What’s wrong? Come on, you’ve got all the chance in the world right now Leo. I’m right here.” Donnie gets even closer.

Leo grips his katanas tightly.

“I’ll stab you straight through.”

Donnie turns his shell to him, hoping he doesn’t notice how badly his arms shake as he holds them out.

“Take your shot then! Or….ugh….a….stab at it? I can’t believe I just said that….”

Leo freezes.

Donnie glances back at him, waiting with baited breath for something to happen. Everyone else is in a similar state.

Leo’s shoulders start jerking a bit. The others worry it’s not working and that Donnie is about to be turned into a turtlekabob.

Then, Leo finally starts doubling over in laughter.

“A stab at it! That is so good!”

Donnie finally sighs in relief. That was a huge gamble. He’s proud that he was right about what Leo could never resist.

“Welcome back, my son. Let’s work on getting those masks off you both.” Splinter smiles.

“What is the meaning of this!?” Draxum’s voice booms from behind them all.

Things are still clearly far from over.

#these are not our masks fic #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rottmnt #2018 tmnt #rise of the tmnt #rise fanfiction #rottmnt fanfiction #tw threats #tw mind control #feral behavior #tmnt 2018 #rise leo #rise donnie #rise draxum

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the-lupine-sojourner · 2 years

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Zootopia/TMNT Crossover Fic Fanfiction Idea

Yup!

You read that right! My dad and I rewatched Zootopia recently and it struck me how interesting it would be if the Hamatos lived in the world of Zootopia!

I like the idea of using the Japanese word for family, Kazoku, as the title for this idea, but I’m still on the fence about that. I’d love suggestions! (Something found family-esque since that’s the main theme of this idea.)

In the meantime, let me explain how this crossover with some ideas I have!

I will be going through the events of Zootopia, but from the perspective of the Hamatos, and I am including my TMNT OCs, Asami, and Lupa.

If you need a refresher or haven’t seen my TMNT OCs, Here is a bio for them! I love these girls so much!

Anyway, the Hamatos will not be vigilante ninjas in this AU (unless I can think of an excuse to do so but really there’s no reason, so...) because there isn’t an intense clan rivalry or need for them to fight anyone, really. Just competition between Ninjutsu dojos with Oroku Saki heading a rival dojo (which may or may not be dealing with the mafia but I haven’t totally figured that part out yet).

I love the idea of Splinter running a Ninjutsu dojo cus I cannot think of Splinter without thinking of ninjutsu.

Tang Shen is alive cus she deserves it and Splinter needs some help raising 6 kids! XD She is their mother and loves them so much!

Splinter and Tang Shen are about the size of Mr. Big, and they have a house that can fit their kids with a system of ramps, platforms, and tubes so they can get around easier and not be underfoot on the ground.

The turtles are the same species as they are in Rise, but slightly less chaotic in personality since they aren’t raised in isolation in the sewers. But their personality will be sort-of a mix of 2003 and Rise. Or at least, that’s what I’m aiming for. We’ll see how this goes.

Splinter himself is based mostly on the 2003 Splinter since I prefer him over Rise Splinter and it fits my ideas better.

The kids know Ninjutsu, but don’t really use it too often, just for some friendly sparring.

Since they’re not also a team of vigilantes in this crossover, there’s less sibling rivalry between Leo and Raph.

Splinter and Tang Shen adopt the kids, obviously, the turtles first after seeing them homeless on the street as young kids, then a year or so after that adoption is finalized, Splinter loses one of his good friends who happens to be a wolf, and there was no one to step up and take care of Asami and Lupa, the only children of Splinter’s friend, so Splinter and Tang Shen decide to adopt the girls.

This is an unusual adoption, given that rats are prey and wolves are predators, but Splinter manages to get custody and legally adopt the girls and things are normal...

Until predators start ‘going savage’, raising tensions between prey and predators.

Would anyone be interested in this fic? I have the prologue written already, but I wanted to gauge interest first!

Let me know!

#Fanfiction #OC #Original Character #Original Female Character #Zootopia #TMNT #crossover #TMNT Zootopia crossover #Fanfiction idea #Kazoku #That's a working title btw #open to title suggestions!#found family #Asami Hamato #Lupa Hamato #Hamato clan

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byulsgrease · 3 years

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now you gotta do a continuation of that wheein smut please, where she returns the favor but does a bit more teasing/torture compared to wheein

I gotta? ok, if you insist :D

what are you thinking about now?

(wheein x fem reader, ~1.7k words)

cw: smut (minors dni)

a/n: hhhh how did this end up 500 words longer than the first part coughijustwanttocallherbabygirl

[previous]

"Just another thing to think about when you're on my mind again."

Who said "again" meant 4am? You considered yourself a morning person, but not this early. She apparently had other ideas in mind when she roused you from sleep with her soft whining and incessantly pressing herself up against your side.

"What?" you murmured sleepily, head rolling to the side to face her. She had that pleading look all over her face, eyes wide with a jutting lower lip, a bit like a begging puppy.

"I'm thinking about you again," her eyes avert your gaze, almost embarrassed to admit, "...thinking about you returning the favor."

"At"—your head raises just above the pillow to peer at the alarm clock behind her on the nightstand— "4am? Didn't we just?"

"I thought I could wait it out, but..." she swung a leg over yours and your eyes widened a little more once her panties grazed your bare leg - soaked. She laid a kiss behind your ear with a soft "please", in that begging tone that always made you melt. You figured the few hours of sleep in you was energy enough. But it was her fault that she couldn’t wait for this, so you planned to make her wait a little longer.

“You might regret waking me up,” tone growing serious now that you were more awake. She shook her head, eyes still wide and full of need. “Yeah… we’ll see about that.”

You hoisted her on top of you and put your hand on the curve of her spine, sliding under her shirt to draw tiny circles on her skin with your fingers. She tried to urgently kiss you, but you refused to match her pace. Instead you kissed her ever-so-slowly, teeth barely grazing her lower lip. Her hands tangled into your hair with a complaining tug, face scrunched up just in front of your lips when you came up for air.

“Can’t you just kiss me?” she huffed frustratingly, the heat of her breath blowing into your face. She’s fronting, but you know she’s in your favorite state - wrapped around your finger.

“What were we just doing, then?” you countered with a cocky smirk which prompted a watery-eyed pout on her face. “I’m kidding, c’mere.” You bunch the front of her shirt in your fist and pull her down to kiss her, for real this time. The pace starts off slow, then ramps up quickly - cursory passes of her tongue on yours and eager lip bites have gotten you equally riled up, but she doesn’t need to know that.

Nothing but your t-shirts and underwear separating your bodies, her nipples poking through her shirt brush over your chest, so you moved a hand up to flick your thumb over one. Her body tensed at the contact but you're encouraged by the sound she made through the kiss - a throaty moan cut short, presumably because she didn’t want to let on as to how desperate she was for so much more.

But they started flowing much more freely once both of your hands came to her chest, gently pinching and circling her nipples, still over the shirt. Despite her growing need for skin-on-skin, she relished the extra friction from the fabric, responding with gentle tugs on your hair and her nails grazing the sides of your neck, a continuous nearly-inaudible whine from deep in her throat.

Throughout all this, she kept trying to hump your legs. Despite wanting nothing more than to witness her unravel into an absolute mess for you, you stopped her. After all, she could have taken care of this herself.

“What, am I just a pair of legs to you?” you quietly joked in the face of her desperation.

“Of course not,” she breathily sighed as she tried to drag herself across your thighs again.

She reached behind her to press a finger to your underwear, and without skipping a beat you grasped her slender wrist and darkly warned, “I don’t think so. This is about you, not me. I can take care of myself just fine, thank you,” your last words teasingly confident, despite not being entirely opposed to her touch.

You moved to gently suck at the crook of her neck while slowly sliding the hem of her tshirt up her body to get it off. Barely trailing your nails up her sides while doing so, you felt her shiver at the contact. Soft nips from your teeth produced even softer hums against your mouth as she pushed her long hair out of the way for you. The suggestion of sunrise now peering through the edges of the window made it very clear: she’d need concealer tomorrow— or today, rather.

Your attention returned to her nipples again, except with your mouth this time. Her hands slipped under your shirt and found yours in the meantime, thumbs tracing the tiniest circles that made your stomach tighten. The thought of stopping her flashes through your mind but you let her continue, your own throaty moans vibrating against her chest while your tongue flicked over her hardened peaks.

Not wanting to let yourself get too carried away from her touch, your fingers encircled her wrists to pull them out from under your shirt, whispering a reminder that this was all about her.

Slipping her underwear down her legs, you flung them to the side in a soggy mass, her desperation absolutely apparent in the way her core glistened in front of you. She sighed with relief as you finally moved your head between her legs, thinking she’d finally get some much-needed stimulation. The relief turned into a high pitched whine of disappointment again when you only kissed and nipped at her inner thighs, your mouth so close and yet so far from where she needed it most. A singular finger traced around her outer folds where wetness had long begun to leak out, making her watch said finger enter your mouth, taking your sweet time indirectly tasting her. The pout on her face looked understandably resigned - what else could she do?

"Oh, did you want me to do something?" you sneered. With your head propped up on one hand, you took the other and slid one finger into her with absolutely no resistance. Honestly with how wet she was, there was no way one finger did much of anything. She white-knuckled the sheets and lifted her hips anyway, trying fruitlessly to thrust herself on your finger to feel something, anything.

You slipped your finger out, moving yourself above her to trace it along her jawline, leaving a slick trail down to the bottom of her chin, which you tilted up. “What’s the rush, babygirl? If you didn’t want me to take so much time, why’d you wake me up so early?” Her body sunk into the bed a bit and heat rose in her face in response to the nickname, growing bashful. Not a nickname you used often, but her response spoke for itself.

"Returning the favor!" she complained, voice shrill. A series of pleas rushed out of her, growing impatient with your antics. She was probably regretting waking you up by now, but you could indulge her a little, right?

Moving back down between her legs, your tongue rimmed her outer lips, eliciting a jerk of her hips from at last getting some kind of meaningful contact. You swept your tongue just around her clit, purposefully avoiding coming into full contact with it. Her fingers snaked in your hair with an adamantly rough pull every time you did what she wanted you to, her expression screwed up on a mix of bliss and frustration.

The rising volume of her moans as your litmus test proved that she was close, but there was no way she’d get over the edge without both your tongue and fingers. You abruptly stopped, pulling away as you took the collar of your shirt to scrape at the small mess collecting on your chin.

She’s literally on the verge of screaming at you - her body couldn’t bear to take much more of this. Your name and a flurry of “please”-s rushed out of her while she yanked at your shirt. You’re secretly in awe at the sight of her raw desperation. She’d never really gotten this wound up before, pleading with you so openly like this. And you pitied her, truly.

The pleasure-filled sounds resumed when you took two fingers and dipped them into her, curling them up at a painstakingly slow pace while sliding your tongue between her folds. When you finally made full-on contact with her clit, she all but cried out, sheer euphoria piercing through the dull ache of her delayed gratification.

It only took your tongue a number of gentle passes over it in tandem with the gentle thrust and curl of your fingers to get her over the edge. Not her most intense finish by any means, but with how wound up she was, she couldn't resist giving in at the first sign attention so long denied. The smooth skin of tensed thighs pressed flush against the sides of your head, partially muting the stream of expletives spilling out of her mouth as your free hand splayed over her abs to steady her rocking hips. You couldn't help but crack a smile against her trembling body as she took in several deep breaths, searching for recovery from the ordeal you just put her through.

Slipping up the bed to lay beside her, both your gazes came to rest on the obvious spot staining the sheets. Her lips turned inwards, mouth pressed together in a line out of mild embarrassment. You wordlessly gave her a side-eyed look, then chuckled and pressed a kiss to her cheek as she backed away a bit, heat rising in her face. You'd have to change the sheets in a couple hours when your alarm clock for work went off.

"So, whatcha thinking about now?" you inquired quietly with a cunning smile.

"How I'm never waking you up this early for anything, ever," she deadpanned.

"Good girl."

#still mildly embarrassed!! go figure #this is why smut takes me a million years to write #how do you... make it not repetitive #don't have it in me to write mommy stuff (yet?)#but i'd call wheein babygirl any day mmph #requested #mamamoo x reader #wheein x reader #mamamoo smut #wheein smut #girl group smut #kpop smut #mamamoo wheein #gxg smut #jung wheein #kpop imagines #girl group imagines #mamamoo imagines #wheein imagines

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25centsoda · 3 years

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Star Wars Fanfic - Wisdom Teeth

I just got my wisdom teeth out the other day...you know what that means! Luke too!

I just wrote this in one sitting and there is very minimal editing. If I ever feel like cleaning this up I’ll throw it on AO3 (and possibly make it longer, possibly leave it as-is).

The world filtered up slowly, rising from the smoke of dreams. The first thing Luke was aware of was that there was a blanket on his chest. It was warm, and soft. The room faded into view.

His tired mind dimly registered the fact that the blanket was blue, and the walls were off-white. The lights confused him. They shone blindingly, obscuring much of the space. Between the two of them, the only other thing he could make out were the empty chairs beside him.

Luke drifted.

The world was quiet, as if buried beneath sand. There might have been a memory of being supported on each side as he was led down a hallway, but that could have easily been a dream; the memory was shadowy and indistinct.

He moved his hand slightly. Yes, the blanket was soft.

Words filtered into his consciousness. Murmurs, far away and nonsensical. He couldn’t summon the will or strength to focus on them.

Through the Force, a spike of emotion.

It was quickly washed away by his exhaustion, and Luke’s eyes fluttered closed. His mouth hung open slightly. Something held it open. What was it? Why was it there?

He forced his eyes open again and squinted at the room, trying to bring it into focus.

Medbay, his mind finally supplied. Now he could tell that he was seeing double. Closing one eye or the other turned the two chairs into one. He entertained himself with looking at each part of the curtained-off room in turn. The small table on his other side. The curtain rod. His own covered legs.

A commotion outside in the hall filtered into his awareness. Luke made a small questioning noise he wasn’t sure even left his throat and turned his head slightly towards the sound.

It sounded almost like...blaster shots?

Behind the curtain, a door hissed open. Cold followed like a shadow. Luke closed his eyes against the chill, grateful for the blanket. Loud, rhythmic breathing grated against his ears. He peered up through his eyelashes.

Vader.

Father.

Was this another dream? Luke’s eyes melted closed again.

He was on the verge of falling asleep once more when the sound of flimsy being shifted pulled him back towards consciousness again. He was almost tempted to wave the sound away, annoyed, but his limbs felt like lead. It wasn’t worth the effort. Amusement washed gently over him in the Force.

The flimsy was folded and shifted against something, then the noise stopped. Something carefully stroked his hand through the blanket.

“Come, young one. It is time to go home.”

Luke managed something between a hum and a groan. That amusement came again, along with an undercurrent of love. He peeled open his eyes and squinted up at his father’s insectoid mask.

Vader helped him sit up while Luke stared at him. His mind spun slowly. His father couldn’t really be here, right? The last thing he remembered...the last thing he remembered…

That shadowy image of being helped across a hallway resurfaced. He pushed it away. Before that, there was…

The surgery!

The Empire had been quiet for long enough that the Alliance decided to take the opportunity to get its soldiers and staff medical care while they could afford both the time and expense. Luke had been brought in to get several teeth removed that had grown in sideways. Leia was supposed to be with him when he woke up.

Where was she?

Luke was pulled to his feet and he stumbled, knees weak beneath him. His head rocked with vertigo. Without thinking, he clung to the arm supporting him.

Where was Leia? She was supposed to be here…

He barely noticed the hallways passing under his feet, focus taken up by the effort of staying upright and trying to figure out where Leia could be.

Maybe...maybe he was hallucinating, and what he thought was his father was actually just Leia.

Luke made a noise that was meant to be “Leia?” but all that came out was nonsense. He furrowed his brow when he realized he couldn’t feel his tongue. Or most of his mouth, really.

The person leading him didn’t respond.

Something was wrong.

“Nng,” he managed, tugging his arm away from their grip. They held on tighter as he stumbled, keeping him upright.

“Hush, young one. You’re safe.” A feeling of security washed through him with those words, overpowering the panic that had begun to rise through the fog of sedation. He leaned on their arm for support. “There. We’re nearly to my ship, then you can rest some more.”

Their boots clanged on a ramp. Luke’s socked feet didn’t make a sound.

The next thing he knew, he was being buckled into a seat. In front of him, a viewport showed the mountains of the planet the Rebels had made their latest base on.

The ship vibrated as it took off, and Luke fell back asleep.

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

Vader marveled at the boy sleeping next to him. At long last; his son. He had been most fortunate in finding the boy and his rebellion in such a state. It had been laughably easy to invade the base and take Luke. The Rebels had grown complacent.

As he piloted the shuttle back to the Executor, he puzzled over the sheet of flimsy that had been tied to the end of his son’s medical bed. “Wisdom tooth extraction”, it had read, along with instructions for care once the boy was released from the medbay.

Vader had heard of such a thing - Obi-Wan had told Anakin Skywalker of his own experience with the procedure, but Skywalker never had a need for it. Evidently Vader’s son did. Incompetent as they were, the Rebellion did not waste money and soldiers on unnecessary medical procedures.

Glancing at Luke again, Vader wondered if perhaps he should have paid closer attention to the sheet before leaving with his son. The boy may need supplies the Executor did not have; the surgery was most often performed on humans younger than the majority of his officers, and Star Destroyers were not equipped for most non-injurious surgeries.

No matter. If anything needed to be acquired, he would get it.

First, he had to get his son to the rooms he had prepared.

Although they would evidently need slight modifications as the boy was recovering from surgery…

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

When Luke woke again, he was once more covered in a blanket. This time, however, he was also propped up by many pillows on all sides, and there were ice packs on both cheeks.

Where was he?

At his confused hum, his father reappeared beside him. Luke’s eyes widened.

Oh. So it hadn’t been a hallucination, then. His father actually...just kidnapped him out of the medbay.

Kriff.

“Father,” he tried, but he still couldn’t feel his mouth. He huffed in frustration, then winced when doing so pulled at his sore jaw. He mimed writing on his hand, looking at his father through narrowed eyes and hoping that conveyed his frustration.

Vader handed him a datapad and pen.

Luke held the pen above the datapad for a minute, trying to decide what to say. He eventually settled on, What did you do?

“You had a surgery, young one,” Vader said. Before he could finish, Luke started writing again. “I did nothing to you.”

I know I had surgery. Where did you take me? What about the base?

“You are on my flagship, the Executor. The Rebel base was taken by the Empire, although I believe the Princess and Wookie escaped, if you are worried about them.”

No dark side.

Vader inclined his head. “You are in no state to begin your training, I agree. However, there are other things you should be aware of in the meantime. For example, the sheet your medic left indicates that the gauze in your mouth should be changed every 30 minutes, the ice should remain as much as possible without causing damage, and you are not to have solid foods for the next several days.”

Luke looked up at the ceiling in lieu of throwing his head back. Kriff. He thought it would be bad to go through this back on base with his friends; to do it stuck with the Empire? With his father? The man had chopped off his hand during their last meeting; Luke had since come to terms with both the news and the prosthetic, but that didn’t mean he trusted his father with his health.

He cleared the screen and wrote again. I want to see a medic.

“They will not tell you anything different, Luke.”

He underlined the sentence and gave his father a pointed look with as much vitriol as he could muster.

Vader sighed, an odd, staticky sound. “Very well. I will call for him.”

Luke watched with interest as his father picked up a slim remote from a small table next to the bed Luke was propped up in, and pressed a button. A small buzz sounded. Moments later, the door hissed open and a man in a medic’s uniform stepped through, clipboard in hand. He bowed, and approached.

“Commander Skywalker, Medic Kix at your service,” the man said. “What can I do for you?”

Luke reset the screen and wrote, then held up the datapad.

What will my recovery look like? How long will it take?

Kix nodded and said, “This first day, there’s going to be a lot of blood. It should clot by the end of today and over the next few days there should be some swelling. The ice will help keep that down. You’ll need to change the gauze every thirty minutes to help the blood clot and keep you from swallowing too much of it. Take it easy for the next few days; no strenuous exercise. Liquid foods only for today, then tomorrow you can start moving on to soft foods like pudding. We’ll talk more about the day after when we get there. You should be fully healed in two to three weeks, assuming all goes well.”

Two to three weeks??

“Yes sir. As you were not treated by one of our medics, I’m unsure how well the surgery was performed, but rest assured we will do everything we can to ensure your healing is as fast and comfortable as possible. Any other questions?”

Kix waited patiently as Luke wrote.

Can I change my own gauze?

He did not want his father to try to interfere more than strictly necessary.

The medic hesitated. “...Yes, but I would advise that you have somebody help you. If you’d like, I can assign you a medic for the next few days.”

“I can--” Vader started, but Luke interrupted him by holding up the datapad.

Yes, I would like a medic. The writing was rushed - his father could speak faster than Luke could write - but it was legible enough. Thankfully Kix took Luke’s side.

“Very well sir. I will send somebody to assist you.” With that, the medic left.

His father turned back to him. “Would you like access to the holonet, young one? It will be restricted, of course - you wouldn’t be able to contact any Rebels - but you would be able to watch videos.”

Kriff, he really was stuck here with his father for at least the next two weeks, wasn’t he? Couldn’t even eat real food.

He was already exhausted of it all.

Yes, Luke wrote. He handed the datapad to Vader.

At least he’d have plenty of time to hack into the datapad and find a way to contact his friends.

----------

Luke’s mouth finally stopped bleeding by the end of the day. He was so grateful to be rid of the gauze in his mouth that he almost didn’t mind the fact that his father had stayed after the medic left.

He tipped his head back and carefully drank some water, reveling in the fact that he could close his mouth almost all the way now. It was still partially numb, but most of the feeling was back and there was nothing holding it open anymore. He set the cup back down next to the pill bottles on the bedside table, then looked between his father next to the bed and the datapad on the blankets.

He’d wasted the day dozing and watching as many pod, speeder, and spaceship races as he could find, but Vader had stayed away for most of it, only seeming to come in as Luke was falling asleep. What...was he supposed to do now that the man seemed determined to stay?

He stared at his father for a long moment. Vader stared back.

Slowly, as if his father was a watching krayt, he grabbed the datapad and turned the latest speeder race back on, sinking into the fresh ice packs and pillows.

They watched it together, side by side.

#star wars #fanfic #fanfiction #luke skywalker #darth vader #wisdom teeth #lmao yes they are having some very awkward father-son bonding time now #idk entirely what this is I have just been trapped on the couch for two days and my friends finally got me to write a Luke wisdom teeth fic #enjoy!

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whatifxwereyou · 3 years

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The Oncoming Storm Part 3: Earthrealm

Fandom: Mortal Kombat 2021

Liu Kang x Reader or Kung Lao x Reader

Summary: You meet the mythical Lord Raiden. He reminds you of your dad, but nicer, oddly enough. Liu Kang might also be your new best friend.

A/N: Thanks again everyone! This has been such fun. I meant to say earlier that this takes place a couple years prior to the film (also that I know a bit about MK as a game series, so I will include tidbits here and there if I can). ALSO! I am open to any suggestions that you may wish to see throughout this story- either for Liu Kang or Kung Lao. I can't guarantee I will use them but I will consider them. I am delighting in writing this!! EDIT:: lol why did no one tell me there were so many errors in this one. All fixed!

The Beginning << Previous Chapter Next Chapter >> Chapter Index

The days that followed were a struggle. Monks would visit and care for your wounds at all hours of the day. You were in and out of consciousness. When you did manage to stay awake, you would meditate and do simple exercises to keep your body strong. That was a struggle in itself. Wounds needed rest to heal but you refused to become weak to them in the meantime. You were ready to fight.

Without fail Liu Kang would visit every evening. He brought books for you to read together. On his second visit he gifted you with a crudely bound leather journal and a pen to take notes with. You were inquisitive and Liu Kang was a wealth of knowledge. On nights where you finished a book or a lesson early, you would meditate together. Other nights you would chat and often times those chats would end in swapping personal stories. You had become fast friends.

You kept a calendar in the back of the journal. Liu Kang helped account for the time that you’d lost to unconsciousness. A week had passed since you’d woken up in Raiden’s Temple. You circled the x over the day and wondered where Kung Lao was. You’d asked around about him but had been told that many of the Earthrealm warriors were often absent. Apparently, he was frequently gone for long stretches of time. Many of the monks left on lengthy errands. Mortal Kombat and the protection of Earthrealm extended far beyond China. You wondered how much of the world Kung Lao had seen. You’d barely ever left your hometown for anything other than martial arts tournaments.

“Miss Y/N?” A monk pulled aside the sheet that had been pinned around the doorway of the small closet-sized space that had become your semi-permanent dwelling. You offered the monk a tired smile and gestured to allow him to enter. The monk bowed politely. “Your presence has been requested by Lord Raiden.”

“Oh?” You had known that you would meet with the man who the temple belonged to eventually. Liu Kang had told you that you would be summoned only after you’d been deemed well enough. You hadn’t passed out in exhaustion for the last 48 hours so you supposed this was as good a time as any. “Give me a moment to change, if you will.”

“Yes, of course Miss Y/N.” The monk bowed and left you with some privacy. You’d grown accustomed to the dressing gowns. They were comfortable and since you didn’t move around much, they worked. You’d been given several lightweight gi for future training and several hanfu, traditional Chinese garments, to wear if you desired. You wished, more than anything, that you’d gotten to pack some of your things before everything had gone to hell. No t-shirts or tank tops. No jeans or leggings. Not even any cute summer dresses. But you were grateful to have anything.

You changed into the soft blue and white hanfu that had become your favorite. It was simpler in design than the others but still long and flowing. You didn’t need anything terribly fancy to have a conversation with someone. You were sure that if Lord Raiden expected you to dress up then you would have been warned. Considering that Liu Kang rotated through the same three tattered gi and was almost always covered in soot, you doubted there was a strict dress code.

After you changed, you pulled your hair up lazily with a set of chopsticks. Then you returned to the monk who was waiting for you in the hall. The monk bowed again and then led you through the halls of the temple. The floor you’d been on had very few windows and only in the hallways. You followed the monk up several ramps and flights of stairs. Endless halls branched in every direction making the whole place seem labyrinthian. You were certain that you could spend weeks exploring the halls and still manage to miss things.

If the monk hadn’t been leading you then you wouldn’t have been able to resist your curiosity. After a good thirty minutes spent walking, you were led into a dark hallway with a rounded ceiling. It disappeared into the distance lit only by odd white statues that stood in a line along its center. The monk bowed and gestured down the hall.

“Good luck, Miss Y/N.” The monk then left you alone. You approached the glass statues in the center of the hall and found their insides sparking with electricity. They were funny in that they reminded you of a sophisticated and silent Tesla coil that fired constantly. Below the frosted glass you could see currents of electricity flowing almost as you imagined lightning would through the clouds. Your fingers brushed curiously over the glass.

“Miss Y/N?” A commanding and deep voice called from the end of the hall. You felt like a child who had disobeyed your teacher and winced. You hurried down the hall as quickly as your legs would allow then bowed before entering the room at its end.

“I’m sorry. I haven’t seen much outside of the infirmary. I was fascinated.”

The man who stood before you was of average build and height, his face mostly obscured by his hat. You grinned in surprise and recognition but then quickly fought to hide your glee. Raiden’s expression was severe, reminding you very much of your father and the way he’d glare at you when you’d said something un-lady-like as a child.

“There is much to discuss.” He gestured for you to take a seat on the floor in front of where he was seated with his legs crossed so you did. Much to your surprise, he was floating several inches off the ground and while you tried to hide your shock, you were sure your eyes had gone wide. “I am Lord Raiden; the protector of Earthrealm.”

“It’s an honor to meet you. Liu Kang has told me a little about you.”

“I am not surprised.” Raiden had a commanding voice as well as presence so you listened attentively. He explained the nature of other realms though he didn’t go terribly in depth with their origins or existence. Outworld was their greatest opposition with the desire to control earth and humanity. They were brutal warmongers from how Raiden described them. He then explained the tournaments and how if Outworld won a tenth tournament they could lay claim to Earthrealm.

Shang Tsung, a powerful sorcerer, would lead his armies there and take humanity as slaves. You didn’t ask but you wondered if Shang Tsung was the ruler of Outworld. You figured that if it were important then Raiden would tell you. He went on to tell you that Outworld had done this before with other realms and they had been devastated into waste.

Raiden spoke in a way that made it seem as though he had lived through countless lifetimes. While his tone often sounded severe, he also spoke with great purpose. “Our next tournament will not be for a few more years. You are one of Earthrealm’s chosen warriors.” Raiden’s lecture was winding down. “Do you have any questions?” You had known much of what Raiden had taught you that day but still sat patiently through it.

“I think I understand. If I have any questions later then I can ask Liu Kang. It’s difficult for me to wrap my mind around this craziness, for lack of a better word. He’s been very patient with me. The idea of arcana and how I’m meant to fight warriors from another world is still wild to me but I understand the concept. I think with time and practice I will be better off.” You stifled a giggle and then cleared your throat to stop any further giggles from escaping.

“Is there something you find funny?”

Guilt again. The kind you’d felt exclusively around your parents.

“You’re the man with the funny hat.” Your cheeks burned when he seemed affronted by your description of him. “I don’t mean to come off as rude! Forgive me. My shop is on the edge of town and there are many travelers passing through. I remember you from one of those visits. You chose your words carefully and spoke very little. You required precious stones and, as I often do, I made polite small talk. I asked what you needed them for and you said in the protection of Earthrealm which you quickly corrected to the protection of nature. You opened my eyes long ago to the secrets of the world though I was doubtful there was any truth to it until now.”

Raiden’s expression shifted and he seemed pleased but he was also difficult to read. You hoped he was pleased. Despite his severe and intimidating presence, he seemed well meaning.

“I don’t recall this instance but am happy to learn that there are those who learn the truth without panic or dismissal.”

“So, I have to fight then.”

“More than fight. You must find your arcana so that you may stand a chance against the warriors of Outworld. They are ruthless and possess skills that may seem impossible to you. Without your arcana you will not stand a chance.”

“How do I do that? Find my arcana, I mean.”

“Through trial and adversity. Everyone is different. Your arcana is unique to you.” Raiden stood and so you did the same. “Your training will begin tomorrow.”

You weren’t sure you were ready for that but you bowed respectfully. That was tomorrow’s problem. “Thank you. I promise to work my hardest.”

Raiden said nothing but didn’t look as though he quite believed you capable. You had long ago stopped seeking the approval of others. Actions spoke louder than words and you would do as you promised. Raiden turned from you without another word. You waited for an awkward moment to be dismissed then turned and left. You chose not to linger in the hall with the pretty lightning sculptures that had distracted you earlier.

The path back to the infirmary wasn’t easily found and you wandered aimlessly for a time before asking a monk to help you back to the infirmary. You were exhausted. Upon arrival you closed the curtain to your tiny room and sat on the edge of your bed. Your arms were aching. You were sore and tired. Gravity didn’t agree with your healing wounds. Training was going to be a bitch but you would be better for it.

Retrieving the journal Liu Kang had given you, you made yourself cozy after rekindling the flame of your lantern. You went over the notes from the day before and smiled. Your handwriting was often sandwiched between his. You’d had a difficult time holding a pen for the first few days and your handwriting was atrocious. There had been times where you’d been too dazed with exhaustion so Liu would take over and explain what he was writing down. He was incredibly considerate.

You drifted to sleep leaning against the wall behind your narrow bed, book in your arms. In your very brief dreams you’d been seated with a young Kung Lao in the field outside of your grandparents’ farm. The more you remembered of him the more you could see the man he’d grown up to be.

A knock against stone startled you awake and you jumped upright. Standing in your doorway, peering through the curtain was Liu Kang. He seemed surprised.

“Did I wake you?” He stepped inside and closed the curtain behind him for privacy. How long had you slept? Crap.

“What time is it? Did I sleep through training?”

“No.” He laughed and it was a welcome and comforting sound. “It’s quite late but I was busy today and had no time until now. I wished to see you before bed.” He spoke of you with such fondness that if you hadn’t been half asleep then you probably would have blushed. You adjusted yourself and made room for him to sit next to you on the bed as you often had while reading. He joined you gratefully. You watched as he brushed his thumb over the prayer beads that often went from wrapped around his wrist to his palm and back again. “Tomorrow is going to be difficult, Y/N.”

You guessed that he would be the one training you. He was one of the only warriors with the marking that stayed in Raiden’s Temple besides Kung Lao that you knew of.

“Promise not to pull any punches, okay?”

“I knew you would say that.” He nudged your shoulder with his.

“I mean it, Liu. It’s been over two weeks since this happened. I’m ready to fight. If I’m going to survive all of this… otherworldly supernatural nonsense then I have no choice. Besides that… I want to do this. I want to fight.”

“I need you to promise to be safe.”

“That’s very sweet, Liu, but I’m a fighter. I’ve been fighting for years. I’m ready to help and more importantly, I’m ready to feel strong again. This thing with the poison and my arms? It’s taken a toll on me. I need to be okay.”

“I understand, I think.” He slipped the beads back around his wrist and caught a glimpse of the journal that you’d fallen asleep holding. Then he looked back toward the door. He was nervous. You could feel it.

“Are you okay, Liu?”

“I’m fine.” He picked up the journal and tapped the pages. “Would you like to study?”

“Can’t sleep, can you?”

“Oh, right. It’s late. I apologize. I woke you. I should let you rest.” He stood, bowed, and then turned to leave. Without thinking, you grabbed his hand. If your arms hadn’t been aching, you would have pulled him back to you. Liu Kang was very aware of the strain that it would put on you to pull so he stopped dead in his tracks. He was always aware of what was going on around him and your aching arms appreciated that more than ever.

“You can stay. We can keep reading. I’d like that.” You insisted. Liu Kang smiled and so you let go of his hand, realizing that you’d been holding it for perhaps too long. He grabbed a hefty book that had been resting beneath your side table. You’d made your way a quarter through it over the past few days. Then you sat together, leaning against the wall. He read to you and his soothing voice nearly lulled you back to sleep. It provided you with a sense of security you hadn’t felt in a long time. Studying with him, even in your worst moments of pain, had become a fond memory.

The words were familiar and so you snapped one eye open. “We already read this.” You waited for a pause in his natural cadence.

“No, we did not.”

“We did, look.” You pointed to your journal and the scribbles in it from the night before. Your handwriting really was terrible. You could make out bits and pieces of it. Liu had the patience of a saint for trying to decipher it. He squinted at the letters.

“I can’t read that. No one can read that, Y/N.” He tapped the page you had pointed to. “That could say almost anything. Are you bored with the history of the Wu Shi Academy?”

“No! We were just further along than this, that’s all. Look, just…” You shoved the journal in front of the book and he laughed. His laugh was sweet and filled with warmth. “I think that this is highlighting this passage here about the foundations and the energy wells beneath it…”

“You can’t possibly read that. We have established that it’s gibberish.”

“I wrote it! I can sort of make out little bits…”

“We have to work on your penmanship, Y/N.”

“I got all sliced up where the tendons and stuff are. They’re still healing!” You whined and then pouted. Liu took the journal and set it on the bed just beyond your feet. You reached past him and turned the pages of the book, searching for the next chapter. “At least get to the part with the arena. You promised that we would learn about that next. You went on and on about it.”

“I did no such thing. You can admit that you’re bored.” Liu teased. You flipped the pages again without his permission so he tried to tug the book away and you jolted to the side with him, hair falling into your face, chopsticks now useless. Much to your surprise, as you righted yourself, Liu helped you and pushed your messy hair away and tucked some of it behind your ear. Your laughter subsided and you avoided his eyes as his admired you. You swore your heart skipped a beat. “Your hair.” He brushed a few strands between his thumb and forefinger.

“Oh?” You dared to look into his dark eyes that were rivers of thought and emotion. You had no aspirations of unraveling them. You liked their mystery.

“The color.”

“Oh, yeah… I uh… I haven’t been able to keep up with dye here and it’s naturally white.” You pointed to the roots that had begun to show.

“White? That’s peculiar.”

“Wow, thanks. Yeah, I know it’s weird.”

“I didn’t mean any offense. It looks nice.” He seemed to realize that his hand was very much still in your hair. His tongue ran nervously over his lower lip while he was lost briefly in thought before he pulled his hand back. “We’ll read about the arena but only because you have chosen to entertain me at a late hour instead of turning me away.”

“And because you realized I was right.” You joked but your stomach was very much in knots. This was no time to be feeling butterflies in your stomach but there they were. Liu Kang made you feel butterflies. Literal butterflies. You hadn’t understood that idiom until now.

“There will be a test, Y/N.” He joked and smoothed out the pages of the book. You retrieved the journal and pen but had given up on writing notes for the night. Your arms were still aching and you were drained. Liu delighted in sharing a map of the ancient arena and reciting battles that he’d won and lost there. His voice was a soothing and familiar drone and before you realized it, you were falling asleep, head falling against his shoulder.

Instead of leaving you there to sleep, Liu Kang continued to read. Sometime later you woke up and the flame in the lantern had gone dim. Liu was still seated next to you, his head now rested atop yours. From his soft, slow breaths, you guessed that he had fallen asleep too. The book was rested neatly on top of your journal as if he had made the decision to put it aside and stay. You should wake him and send him back to his room. He would be more comfortable there. Selfishly, you wanted him to stay. He’d chosen to stay so you decided to let him have his choice.

For the first time since you’d woken up in Raiden’s Temple, you went to sleep feeling secure and comfortable.

Next Chapter >>

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underworldobsessed · 3 years

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I Don’t Intend to Suffer Any Longer ll Extra Fic! Bo-Katan Week Day 7: Free Day

Title: I Don’t Intend to Suffer Any Longer Rating: T Ship: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Satine Kryze Characters: Bo-Katan Kryze, Satine Kryze, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Luke Skywalker Series: This Life is Mine (Bo-Katan Week 2021) Collection: Obitine Cave Fam Summary: Bo-Katan knows that when she doesn't feel safe, she doesn't sleep. She so rarely feels safe, that even visiting her sister's family on Tatooine leaves her feeling unsafe and refusing to sleep. However, on this particular trip, that changes. ll Extra fic for Bo-Katan Week Day 7: Free Day Author’s note: So this is actually based on a roleplay universe a bunch of my friends and I created, and I got permission from them to create a little fanfiction universe based in it. I adore the AU we created and I'm so excited to bring this world into my writing. Also, I felt kinda bad that my last day of Bo-Katan week was smut, so here’s an extra fic for all of you Bo-Katan fans!! I had a blast with this week! Thank you all for sticking with me!

Tagging: @bokatanweek

Read here or under the cut

Bo-Katan got the ship ready to land as she lowered into the atmosphere of the most backwater planet she could think of; Tatooine. She never understood why both Satine and Obi-Wan chose this planet to settle down on, and raise their young adopted son; Luke. It kept them safe, which to her, was the most important thing.

Yet despite all of it, she never felt safe enough to get rest while she was there.

She still felt uncertain with Obi-Wan, still trying to get accustomed to working with a jedi like him. Her sister knew this well, which was while she questioned it, she never judged her sister for not sleeping while she was on world. It was something she wished she could do, but sleep never came to her while she was there.

Wherever Bo was, if she didn’t feel safe, she wouldn’t sleep or her sleep would be plagued with nightmares. Even places she had been dozens of times, like the main Nite Owl base could cause her to become anxious and prevent her from sleeping. If they got a new member, or if they had recently had a close call. She became used to working on limited sleep, if she ever slept in general.

As she landed on the created landing platform, she picked up her helmet off the console. She would only hope her sister didn’t see that she had bags under her eyes from the stress she was under and sleepless nights. She hid a yawn as she walked down the ramp, only to get slammed into by a four year old, seeing her sister and her husband walking up towards her.

“Auntie Bo!” She smiled despite her exhaustion, lifting Luke up to set him on her hip. She pressed a kiss to his head. “Welcome home, Auntie Bo!”

Her heart warmed at the greeting, still unbelievable that she had a home that wasn’t a military base. Her sister and family actually had a place for her to stay, and wanted her there.

“Hello, Bo.” Satine walked up and wrapped her arms around Bo to try and hug her without crushing Luke. “How long are you going to be here this time?”

“I’ve got three days of leave before I have to return to base.”

“Awww,” Luke whined as Bo set him down. “Why can’t you stay longer, Auntie?”

“I’ve got people to save, kiddo.” She didn’t want him knowing just what she was doing when she wasn’t on world. At least not while he was this young. She knew her sister would frown at the consideration that she wanted to tell him of violence. Best not to let her know that she was planning on buying him a dagger for his birthday this year. She got one when she was this young from her parents, so it wouldn’t hurt to get him one as well.

He pouted but hurried into the cave where he lived. Obi-Wan smiled at Bo, clapping a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m glad to see you in one piece, Bo-Katan.” He smiled “Perhaps once Luke goes down for the night, you can tell us about what you’ve been doing and the progress on Mandalore.”

“Of course,” She promised as she followed them inside. On the table was already a full meal prepared. She was still not used to someone preparing a meal like this for her. She typically made herself something quick and easy, or just resorted to eating rations to get buy. A real home cooked meal like this was rare for her. Not that she was complaining necessarily, and she knew Satine had become a relatively good chef in the time since they were younger.

They all took their seats at the table, Luke making sure to sit next to Bo. She knew how much the kid missed her and she had to admit, she missed him too. It killed her to be off world more and more, finding less chances to come back and visit her family. At least for now, this was the way it was going to have to be.

“Is Korkie gonna come visit us anytime soon?” Luke asked, and Bo sighed. She looked over at Satine, who was pointedly not looking at her anymore, but she knew she was listening. Satine had still been keeping Korkie’s true identity a secret, but she always worried about the state of her son now that he had joined the Nite Owls in their fight to reclaim Mandalore.

“He wanted to join me this time, but he went on a supply run and won’t be back on base for another few days.”

“Oh…” Luke pouted as he took a bite of his food, before launching into a description of what he had been up to for so long since she had come to visit. The story was disjointed, but Bo could keep up fairly well. She listened to his story, smiling to herself as he went. She caught that he was making friends with some of the other kids, though always under the watchful eye of Satine when they went out. They had been to Mos Eisley a little bit more frequently, but lost what they did there in his rapid talking.

“Luke, you need to not talk with your mouth full,” Satine chided him, and at least he had the chance to look a little sheepish as he stopped talking briefly to eat a few bites.

“Sorry, Mamma.” He said, and Bo could see that same stunned face she made every time Luke called her that. She knew that Satine and Obi-Wan had told Luke the story of his birth parents, of Anakin and Padme and all they had accomplished. She had almost expected Luke to stop calling them mamma and papa after that, but the affection of them as his parents remained.

She knew anything different would tear Satine’s heart apart.

“Let the kid talk, Satine, I’m here so infrequently. I want to hear his stories.”

Luke beamed and launched into another story, this one about his recent love of reading some of his mamma’s old books. Bo had been bringing Satine some old Mandalorian children’s tales that Satine would find appropriate to read for Luke so he could learn. She knew there wasn’t much she could do for Obi-Wan’s past, but had found books that he would approve of for him to read to Luke as well.

They had been trying to get him to learn Basic and Mando’a, and possibly Huttese as well though neither were fluent in that.

But it was a connection to his father nonetheless.

As dinner wound down, they retired to a seating area to continue talking. Bo had taken up a seat on the couch with Luke and was playing with his starfighter toys, engaged in a playful fight as Satine sat comfortably on Obi-Wan’s lap as she watched her sister interact with Luke.

Paying attention to this caused her to notice just how Bo’s movements started to become sluggish. Her eyelids lowered as Bo let the starfighter drop to her side.

“Auntie?”

Bo’s eyes opened briefly, and she looked over at her nephew.

“I’m sorry, kiddo.” She ruffled his hair, and picked the toy up to continue playing with him once again.

As they played, and eventually just sat as Bo started to read one of the books she brought for him. She felt Luke grow heavy against her and she smiled, her eyelids lowering as well. Her arm wrapped around Luke’s shoulder and her head slowly fell to rest against the armrest of what she was sitting on. It wasn’t long before both of them started to fall asleep.

Satine looked over at the couch and gently nudged her husband to look at them.

“Obi, look.” Satine’s voice was soft to try and keep from waking Bo by mistake. “She’s actually sleeping.”

“Forgive me, darling, but I would assume Bo-Katan would sleep, it is quite late.”

“Obi, in the years my sister has come to visit us, how frequently would you say she came to sleep?” When silence greeted her, she continued. “When she doesn’t feel safe, Bo won’t sleep. She knows she has nightmares, and knows they’re more common when she doesn’t feel safe, so she won’t sleep. The fact that she’s willingly fallen asleep means she’s finally starting to feel safe while she’s here.”

Satine looked once again at Bo, who seemed so much younger now that she was asleep. The stress had melted away on her face. While she knew that they were twins, Bo had been graced with a younger face, so she always reminded Satine of when they were children and Bo would fall asleep next to her.

Finally, her sister felt safe enough in the same place as her where she would willingly sleep like this.

The thought brought tears to her eyes, and she felt her heart warm.

“Should we carry them to bed?” Obi-Wan finally spoke up once again “I don’t want them to get a crick in their necks.”

“Don’t worry about it, Obi.” Satine reassured him. “Bo used to be able to sleep pretty much anywhere once she was comfortable. Besides, I don’t think she will be able to fall asleep once again if we accidentally wake her. Let them sleep. Luke will be happy to sleep close to his aunt since Bo is so rarely here.”

“I’ll get them a blanket.” He said as he went to the spare bedroom that Bo never used. In the meantime, Satine got up and went to brush her sister’s hair out of her face.

“I love you, Bo’ika. I’m so happy to see you finally feeling comfortable here. This is your home too and we will keep you safe so you can always get a full night’s rest while you are here.”

#Obitine #Bo-Katan #Bo-Katan Kryze #Bo Katan #Bo Katan Kryze #Jen Writes #Bo Katan week

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elionwriter · 3 years

Text

PROMPT / DRAPLE OF A POSSIBLE FUTURE FIC (PART 2):

"I need your help, Mando" says Greef Karga in his holo-message one day. "I know how busy you are lately, I wouldn't ask if it wasn't so important and I didn't need someone I trust on this". When Din answers the call he learns the details of the mission: Greef had taken so much at heart the renovation and improvement of Nevarro that he had made contact and tried to help cells of patriots of other planets that wanted to attempt the same. One of said groups, on a backwashed planet of the Rim, was having some troubles with a Crime syndicate that thought their efforts would do bad for business. Din's mission was to meet these people and help them plan a strike against the criminal organisation.

Upon reaching the planet and looking around, Din sighs, thinking that it would take a miracle to rehabilitate the place. Everything and everyone is so dirty that he wonders how an epidemic hasn't broken out, the people looks like little, feral animals rather than sentients and he's pretty sure there are some commercial traffics going on that had been banned long before the Empire. Then again, he isn't really surprised, the laws and enforcements of the New Republic don't reach this part of the Galaxy, these planets don't even have representatives in the Senate to speak up for them. They're on their own.

It's as Din is waiting in a crowded square for his contact to arrive that he catches a set of eyes fixed on him. He had felt someone following him from the moment he had left his ship but they hadn't come out yet. He looks down at the creature staring at him with hudge magenta eyes, three of them, and quickly realises it's a child, a girl. She's of a species he has never seen before, with bright yellow skin and feathers covering her head (the yellow and fluff or her feathers is dampered by the grease and dirt), she has four feathery arms and bony legs. She smiles brightly at him and waves. "Need anything, kid?" He asks. "You're sooooo shiny and cool! Can I be your friend?" She asks, voice full of awe. There is no deception in that statement and Din chuckles at it. Patiently he tries to shoo away the child telling her that he is waiting for someone and that things are about to get dangerous.

She's completely undeterred by his words, smile still plastered on her face. So he follows a different line: "Shouldn't you go back to your parents?" " No." "Are they around here?" "No" "Aren't they worried you're out here on your own?" "No" He considers it a moment then asks "Do you...have parents?" "No" she answers with the same airly smile of before. "Anyone that takes care of you?" "No" "A home to go back to?" "No" "Friends...?" "Everyone is my friend. Do you also want to be my friend?" Din sighs, starting to loose patients, wondering what the hell is his contact waiting for to show up. Before he can say anything else the kid points at his blaster "Did you kill anyone with that?" "Yes, I did." "Cooool! Was it a really bad guy? Did a lot of blood come out?" As a last resort Din pulls out a handful of credits and proposes "If I buy you something to eat, will you leave?" She thinks it over a second and asks "can I have caramelled Meiloorun?" Din nods "Even the big one?" Din gets her the treat and watches her skip away happily. It's not long after that he is approached by the right hand man of the organisation he's supposed to aid.

He is brought back to their headquarters and they discuss matters out. Din is surprised to find that they are a group of very level minded and shrewd kids with very good projects for the future and feels more prompted to help them out. They study a plan to strike against the criminal organisation and call it a night. Din is welcomed to stay at their place. As he steps out of the run down building to catch a breather and take a look around he finds the same kid from before waiting for him outside. He asks how long she has been standing there and finds she had been standing there for almost the entirety of his stay. "Hadn't we agreed that you would leave?" He asks "I did leave. Then I came back!" Din sighs. She asks for his name but luckily doesn't really wait for an answer before giving her own. "My name is Ky'lla. Are we friends now?" Din tries very hard to mentally create an interference over the name. Learning her name is definitely not wise and he wonders why she is so stubborn on the idea of befriending him of all people. But as he notices the way she studies with shiny eyes his armour he thinks he starts to understand. "Are you following me because you like my armour?" "Yes! I like shiny things and this is the shiniest thing I've ever seen! Also, you're big and buff and you're really nice too! You bought me candy! Nobody ever buys me candy!" She says excitedly. Din known he shouldn't ask but the question is out before he can stop himself. "Where do you come from? What happened to your family?" She thinks it over a moment then points her finger towards the sky "My homeworld is in that direction. I came here with mom, but mom died a long time ago'. It's sad but I have a lot of friends now." Something tells Din that all the "friends" she talks about are just a bunch of random strangers and passer bye; that befriending everyone she meets is the kid's subconscious response to her loss. "Don't you remember the name of your planet? Or of any planet nearby?" "No. But I am pretty sure it's in that direction" she says pointing in a different position of the sky altogether. "And...were the people of your planet all of your same species?" "Yes, they were." Great, Din thinks, there's really nothing he can do for Ky'l..THE KID considering he has no idea where "there" in space is and has never seen anyone of her likes before. He sees her yawning. Well, there is one thing he can do. "Do you have anywhere to sleep?" "There's the back alley a few streets over with comphy sacks..." She answers and Din pushes her inside the building "tonight you're sleeping in here" he says directing her towards the room meant for him. She flops over on the bed and asks "can you tell me a story?" "Go to sleep" "But if you killed people you must know stories of battles and duels! Can you tell me the most scary one you know?" Din sighs but for some reason finds himself flopping on the floor, near the bed and telling her what they told him, the first nights he was brought into the covert, of the Mythosaurs and how the Mandalorians learned to tame and fly them. He falls asleep as the words and memories cling to him, as he envisions the pendant with the Mythosaur skull he had given Grogu. The pain for loss of him spreads through his tired body like a fresh wound. Ky'lla falls asleep whispering with awe the word "Mandalorian".

In the morning, he wakes her up, gives her a few ration packs and tells her that she really must stop following him now. For the first time she looks actually sad, but doesn't protest as she goes.

Din catches up with the rest of the group and together they prepare the assault to the criminal syndacate's main objective. At first everything goes as planned but quickly things get messy. Din realizes he has to expose himself more than he intended. Firing up the jetpack, he flies up to the targeted power generator and places a frag mine over it. He fires at will at all the enemies that try to approach but one expecially sneaky killer works his way behind him and, preparing his sniper rifle, aims at a junction in between Din's armour. Din notices him a moment too late as the trigger snaps. He braces for an impact that doesn't come. He looks at the man with surprise and finds terror and bewildermente on the other's face as well as he tries to fire over and over. The rifle is insistently empty. Din takes the moment and turns it to his advantage firing his own blaster which knocks the assassin down cold. "I was the one to steal the rifle's charges. Was I good or what!?" Chirpes in a familiar voice. Din is only partially surprised to find Ky'lla popping out of nowhere, proudly waving the rifle's cartridge around. He wants to thank her, ask her how in kriffin hell she managed that and scold her for putting herself in danger's way for him but his pragmatic mind refrained from that. He quickly pulls the child in his arms and flies them both away from there moments before the charge on the power generator goes off in a hudge explosion. "Whoaaa" Ky'lla exclaimes over his shoulder as flames and electric shocks destroy the surrounding space. The patriots cheer happily below as the last standing members of the criminal syndacate run away.

Din is celebrated like a hero but he pays the compliments no mind. One of the young women of the group cuts off a ringed finger from one of their victims and tosses it to Din "there's a hudge bounty on this one! You should collect it, it's the least we can do to thank you." Din accepts the prize and parts ways with the group, Ky'lla following him around like a shadow. When he reaches his new ship and opens the ramp to it Ky'lla takes a shy step backwards and says "I guess it's goodbye, then. It was nice being your friend..." Din smirks at her from behind the helmet and says "Do you really think I don't know you're just going to sneak into the ship somehow? Let's save time and come in." Ky'lla looks at him in disbelief "you really mean it?!" Din signals her to follow and with a high pitched squeel she goes to hug his legs. "I've got some friends, I'm sure one of them will accept to take care of you" he says, even as part of him already knows that the kid will stick to his side.

Din prepares the launch sequence and soon they are travelling in hyper space. He sends Ky'lla to immediately take a shower in the 'fresher and in the meantime he sends a message to Karga to report on the end of the mission and to prepare the money for the bounty he collected.

Ky'lla comes back to the cockpit looking ten times brighter and fluffier than she did before. "Since I'm staying with you for a while, can you teach me to fight like you do?!" Asks the child. "I could be very good! With four arms I could grab the bad guys from the scruff and tickle them to death!" She says stating her case. "Do you really want that? It's a difficult and intense training..." "Sure! And can I have an armour like yours too?!" "You must become a Mandalorian and earn each piece of it to have one." He says carefully testing the ground. "Then that's what I want to be: a Mandalorian! Can I?" "Well, technically everyone can become a Mandalorian..." "THAT'S AWESOME! Till yesterday I was no one and now I'm gonna become a Mandalorian!!! Thank you, thank you, thank you!" The child starts running around bursting at the seams with happiness. Din laughs. "I want to learn everything there is to know about Mandalorians!" She exclaims and Din sighs out a "Yeah, so do I" "Why, don't you know everything about them already? You are one" He explains that there are very few Mandalorians left, that a lot of their history and culture has been wiped out and that he had very limited access to what was left growing up.

Eventually, the kid tires out and falls asleep in her seat. Din looks back at her and replays all the recent events in his mind, trying to figure out just how he found himself with a new kid under his responsibility. This had been a wrong move. The last time he did so broke his heart and even if it was the right thing to do, he doesn't know if he can get over that same loss again. His latest adventure however lights up a sudden and inspired idea in his mind. He reaches for the console and sends out two holo messages. One to Luke Skywalker and the other to Bo-katan Kryze asking her where to meet up and stating with confidence that he has a proposition for her.

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elisaphoenix13 · 3 years

Text

Delusional (Ch.2)

He wished that he never went to Afghanistan. His brief trip turned into a three month nightmare, which he only escaped because of Scott. His kid was the sole reason he survived and he had been determined to get home. Thanks to Yinsen, he had been able to achieve his freedom, but it was at the cost of the other man's life. Even if he wanted to die to rejoin his family, it still weighed on Tony and gave his determination to get home to Scott a bigger boost.

By some miracle, Rhodey and a team were flying around looking for him in the middle of the desert and he was home within 24 hours. Of course he cleaned up a bit. He knew Scott would be waiting on the tarmac for him and didn't want his kid to see him beaten, bleeding, and bruised. The electromagnet in his chest would be bad enough.

"How is he?" Tony asks as the plane starts it's landing. "How's my kid?"

"Scott was…inconsolable for the first month." Rhodey answers. "Then suddenly, one day, he hunkered down in the lab and hacked everything he could think of to find you. I had to pull a lot of strings to keep him out of trouble...but he helped find you."

Tony nods. "Scotty's a force to be reckoned with. It's a good thing he doesn't like violence or the rest of the world would be in trouble."

"Speaking of, can you please tell him to stop changing the nuclear codes?"

"Even if I could, I wouldn't. He has the right idea. I should be taking a page out of his book for once."

Once the plane lands, Rhodey helps him to his feet as the ramp lowers, and then down to the tarmac where Happy, Pepper, and Scott are waiting. He saw Scott's disappointed look when Tony refused the gurney they had rolled over, but Tony didn't care. He walked straight over to the younger man and pulled him into a tight hug, sighing with relief. He never took Scott for granted, but he still missed the ridiculous cowlick in his hair and the way he smelled of oranges and...candy? Something told Tony that Scott's diet largely consisted of candy at least in the past few weeks.

"You smell like you could go for a cheeseburger too." Tony finally says and Scott looks at him incredulously.

"You've been missing for three months, assumed dead, and that's the first thing you say to me?" Scott frowns.

"What? You want me to drop to my knees and sob overdramatically about how much I missed you?" Tony asks and Scott makes a face. "Yeah. I didn't think so. So a cheeseburger and a press conference."

"A press conference?" Pepper asks, surprised as she gets in the car with the men. "You should go to the hospital-"

"Cheeseburger. And a press conference." Tony repeats firmly.

He left no room for argument and Pepper eventually relented and called whoever she needed to to get the press conference to happen. In the meantime, Tony wrapped an arm around Scott's shoulders and pulled him close, needing him to stay nearby. He needed the closeness, and for now he needed Scott to stay where he could see him. At least just for now. That was when Scott noticed the faint glow through his shirt and he sat up a little.

"Dad? What's that?" Scott reaches out and unbuttons the first few buttons before Tony can stop him and the younger male stares.

"I'll explain later alright? When we get home."

Fortunately, Scott nodded and let the subject drop and soon enough, Happy was passing a bag of Burger King back to them. Scott barely opened it and handed one to Tony before he was practically inhaling it, so his son decided to hand him his second one before getting his own. Tony was just opening his second one as the car pulled up to the building and Happy gets out and rounds the car to let them out. Everything up to the point of his announcement was a bit of a blur after that. He was tired, he hurt, and honestly he wanted to go home and fall into bed for a couple of days.

Seeing the look on Scott's face though? It made Tony absolutely sure of his decision to shut down the weapons department. They would find a new way for the company to thrive. And Tony was going to take a page from Scott's book like he should have the moment Stark Industries was his.

The Merchant of Death was no more.

======

One of the first things Tony did after he slept for 18 hours was go down to his lab and make an upgraded version of his mini arc reactor. Something more reliable that wasn't made from parts found in a cave and wouldn't remind him of the pain and torture he endured in those three months. It didn't take long for him to finish, but once he got himself hooked up to an EKG and sat himself in a chair, he realized his newest predicament.

His hands were too big.

"JARVIS? Where's Scott?" Tony asks. "Nevermind." He grabs his phone and video calls Scott. When the younger man answers, he sees him eating a sandwich. "Two things. Bring me a sandwich and come help me real quick."

"Sure."

The video call abruptly ends and in just a few minutes, Scott walks down to the lab with Tony's sandwich and walks over to him. He looks at all of the equipment around his father and then at the new arc reactor as he sets the plate down.

"You're not doing surgery on yourself are you?" Scott asks.

"Nope. You are." Tony says and Scott pales. "I'm kidding. Sort of. Let me see your hands."

Scott holds up his hands and Tony nods. They were definitely smaller than his. Small enough at least.

"Perfect. You're helping me replace this." Tony takes the old piece out of his chest and Scott watches in trepidation.

"What do you want me to do?" Scott asks.

"There's an exposed wire which is why I needed to replace it. Need you to pull it out without touching...just treat it like Operation. You liked that game."

"Yeah, when I was four and not pulling weird things out of my dad." Scott moves closer and reaches in anyway, making a face when his fingers squelch in the plasma. "Oh god. This is so gross and smells-"

"Yeah it does." Tony says with humor in his voice.

He tried warning Scott about the magnet at the end, but it was pulled out before he could finish his sentence and the machine beside him beeps in warning. Scott startles and looks at it, but Tony manages to get his attention again.

"Hey, don't worry about the machines. Put that down and take this." Tony says, giving Scott the new piece once his son puts the old one down. "Connect it to the plate-there you go." Tony praises and helps lock it into place. "All done. You did great. Thanks."

Scott grimaces and wipes his hands on a nearby rag. "Never ask me to do that again. Ask someone else to do it."

"I only have you kiddo." Tony says seriously and Scott looks at him before sighing and picking up the old arc reactor.

"What should I do with this?"

"Get rid of it. Destroy it... whatever." Tony shrugs and grabs his sandwich after pulling his shirt back on.

"You might need it for parts." Scott says and takes it over to an iron shelf to place with other discarded projects. "You'll thank me later."

"I doubt it."

Scott rolls his eyes and follows Tony over to his desk where he sits down and starts scrolling through some files until sending one over to the holotable. Blueprints of the iron suit he had made and escaped in. Ever since he got back, all he could think about was keeping Scott safe. And he figured he could do that with the suit. A properly upgraded one that wasn't clunky...but this would be for him. He was serious when he said he was shutting down the weapons department of the company, but he couldn't just sit back with this idea in his lap.

"What's that?" Scott asks.

"This," Tony starts, trashing parts of the blueprint in the Holo trash can. "Is how I escaped."

"Shall I upload this to the company server Sir?" JARVIS asks.

"No. Keep it in my private server. I don't know who I can trust right now."

"Not Obie." Scott grumbles and Tony looks over at him.

"What? Why?"

Scott shrugs. "I don't know. He was weirdly calm while you were missing...and he tried to give me a cheeseburger." When Tony gives him a confused look, he clarifies. "The bun had sesame seeds on it."

"He probably forgot or didn't realize." Tony says and looks back at the suit. "But noted."

He didn't want Scott to think he was brushing him off.

"Why are you making adjustments to that?" Scott asks, watching his father work.

"I'm making this for myself...and you in a way. It will give me peace of mind to know I have a way to protect you." Tony trashes another part and opens the arms of the suit.

"Dad-"

"Please." Tony says, stopping and looking at Scott again. "I'm not making weapons for the rest of the world anymore, but you can be damn well sure that I'm going to make armor to protect what's important to me."

Scott didn't argue further. Maybe because he realized how much Tony needed this. And even more surprising? He actually helped. Over the next week, he helped write the code JARVIS would need when they integrated him into the suit, and helped find screwdrivers that Tony misplaced. Tony liked having a project to do with Scott. It used to be cars since Scott refused to work with weapons, but now they had the suit.

And on some occasions Scott had to console DUM-E. Especially after Tony called him a tragedy. It wasn't his fault DUM-E couldn't follow simple directions.

Okay, maybe it was...a little.

"Okay. Got the camera rolling?" Tony asks Scott as he steps onto the testing area wearing the flight pieces of his suit.

"Yup...and DUM-E has the fire extinguisher as always." Scott answers and looks up from the camera.

"Alright." Tony readies his stance. "We'll start off with 10% thrust capacity and see if it gets us off the ground."

The whirring grows louder and then Tony starts his countdown from three. The moment he hits one, he presses the handheld switches, immediately getting thrown up and backwards. He hits the low ceiling before crumpling to the floor and DUM-E turns to him and sprays him with the fire extinguisher as Scott runs over to him. The second the younger realizes he's generally okay, he bites his lip and starts to turn red.

Probably from trying not to laugh.

"If I hear a snicker from you, I will ground you forever. No oranges or lollipops."

Scott bursts into laughter a moment later and Tony sighs and holds up his arm.

"Help me up you brat."

"I think it's safe to say that 10% gets you off the ground." Scott snickers once he gets himself under control, and reaches down to help him to his feet.

"Ahahaha, so funny." Tony takes off the suit pieces with Scott's help and walks over to the workbench.

"It was. And now we will forever have a record of it." Scott smiles and watches Tony start designing the arms of the suit.

"I'd delete it but I'm sure you'll find a way to restore it and squirrel it away somewhere."

Scott only confirms his theory with a laugh and they both look over to the door when it hisses open. Pepper walks in and approaches them after setting some paperwork down.

"Didn't you hear the intercom? I've been buzzing you. Obadiah's upstairs." She tells them and Scott scrunches his nose.

"What? Oh, right. I'll be right up." He pulls his arm and the bones of the suit's arm from the stand with it.

"I thought you were done making weapons."

"He is." Scott answers. "That's a flight stabilizer."

"Completely harmless." Tony adds.

He powers it up and activates it, sending things - and himself - flying. Unfortunately his landing pad had been Scott, who was standing behind him when he shot the stabilizer and Tony immediately rolled off of him. Scott groans and holds the back of his head as he sits up and Pepper looks down at both of them incredulously.

"Seriously, how is he still alive?" Pepper asks.

"In my defense, I didn't expect that." Tony says and gets up with Scott's help once the younger recovers.

"You say that more than you think." Pepper says. "Brought paperwork for you to look at and sign. Obie is upstairs. Scott? Are you okay sweetie?"

"Still better than an asthma attack." Scott answers.

"I swear one of these days I'm going to come down here and find you both dead." Pepper sighs.

"It's plausible." Tony says and starts for the stairs.

Pepper only scoffs.

#tony stark #scott lang #pepper potts #rhodey

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jennsmischievousmind · 4 years

Text

Vhekadla

Vhekadla : Sandy

Pairing: Mando x mirialan!reader

Word count: 4.782

Warnings: Exile, reader not good with kids, mild swearing, slight angst, self-medication (needles (once))

Summary: Peli needs components for the failing vaporator in Hangar-2, you are meant to go the moisture farm to get them. But a renown bounty hunter lands in Hangar-3.

A/N: Some references to the OG trilogy and the following one. Can’t wait to see how many you find. Let me know.

I tried not to use any gender for reader (I’m still learning about it) Text in italic = reader’s internal thoughts English is not my native language, I’m trying to get better at it, please be indulgent.

It was fun to reconnect with the lovely Star Wars nerd in me.

“A Mirialan would place a unique, often geometrically repeated tattoo on their face and hands to signify that they had completed a certain test or task, or achieved sufficient aptitude for a certain skill. The number of tattoos would thus often act as a good indicator of how mature and/or skilled a Mirialan was.”

You heard Peli calling out from the hangar, jumping down the reactor you were working on, you step on hangar 3′s threshold. Glancing through your fingers’ shielding the sun, as the pre-Imp beat up vessel lands in Hangar 3. You rolled down your sleeves as Peli look back at you.

“He doesn’t really like droids, so you’ll have to step-in.” stopping next to her you nodded, readjusting your tool belt.

Working for Peli you thought you'd seen everything in terms of species. Until the vessel's ramp lower down with a hiss, a shiny Mandalorian walking out.

Your eyes went to Peli and the approaching bounty hunter as she made her way to him grinning, awaiting for him to give her something. The tall, beskar clad individual gave a small green creature to Peli whom started to coo at it. Weird.

“Glad you decided to keep him.” She waved a finger your way giving you the go-to.

Treading to the gunship, the T shape visor of the Mandalorian followed your form, you didn’t pay much attention to it, hunters could be precious about their engines.

Plugging your datapad in the cargo bay panel you ran a quick diagnostic, looking around the ship while waiting, the hull was oddly neat you noted. The Datapad biped loudly, detailing the ships problems. This old thing was still flying, how, who knew.

“What’s with the Mirialan?"

“What can I tell? I’m going soft! Coz of your womp rat for sure.” He said nothing waiting for her to continue

“They needed the job, no questions ask. But don’t ask about the tattoos, they can be moody,”

“I heard that,” you strolled down the left telescopic gate, heading for the front repulsorlfits.

Why were they talking about you? Do they know each other much? Why a bounty hunter was carrying a child-like thing.

Stepping into the cockpit, you refrained on sitting on the pilot seat, you always felt that pilot seats were as intimate as beds. The Datapad ran a new diag, you eye the control panel, tilting your head seeing something was missing.

The Mandalorian stood tall before Peli “I have things to do!”

Peli waved him off “Yeaah go hunt, we’ll fix your ship in the meantime,”

After a few hours, drenched in sweat and sticky black goo on your hands you finally ease yourself in the cockpit “That should be good, punch it!” you yelled to the 3 pit-droids outside. After hearing the droids tripped on each other, they activated the engine, launching the hyperdrive for a last test.

The Mandalorian made his way back in the hangar just in time to see you hopping down the cargo ladder, sweeping your greasy hands on your overalls.

He couldn’t help but noticed the tattoos showing at your wrists as your sleeves had rolled up.

“This is not going to be a recurrent thing.” You heard the Mandalorian say, clearly annoyed. Approaching them, you could feel the Mandalorian was tense, Peli took the datapad you handed her, you tried your best no to stare at the broad shoulders at your right.

Finally noticing him, and his T-visor staring at your wrists, you swiftly turned around and brushed the sleeves back down; “She’s up to fly. The hyperdrive is as brain new, we made a few check-ups on the engines since they were coughing a bit,” you rounded a crate, looking back at him, your sleeves now attached to your fingers, “and the lights are back on!” you index pointed to the lamp on the ceiling.

“You’ll want a price cut, as I can see here,”

You glanced at the visor for a second, what did Peli ask him to do? “Fine,” he sighed.

“Go to the moisture farm and get my parts,” she patted at his pauldron, “you’ll be his guide.“ you were so engrossed in Peli’s friendliness with the bounty huinter that it didn’t click immediatly. Until it did.

“Hold on, what?” voice rising a notch “I told you I’d go,.. alone!” you argued

“With all the recent things happening in this forsaken desert, I’d rather not send you alone.”

Stepping closer to Peli, your back to the Mandalorian, you stared at her, she stared back, not having it. She knew you could take down a Gamorrean if needed.

“Boss, …”

“For Force’s sake don’t argue with me,” She shooed you away, you knew she wouldn’t let go.

“You still have that speeder bike?” his modulated voice rang in your back as you made your way to the fresher to clean yourself up.

Peli snarled “I’m gonna start renting it.”

Waiting near the speeder bike, Peli handed you the credits to pay for the binary brain unit and humidity sensor, she needed it for the vaporator in H-2. The moisture farm you were heading to had the parts since they owned the same vaporators.

“You can trust him,” she nudged her jaw to the approaching Mandalorian.

“I’ll be the judge of that,”

“He’s like family, call him Mando,” you rolled your eyes at her teasing tone. Peli wouldn’t leave the city walls since the Empire fell, so obviously it became your task to get the parts or hardware from out of the walls. Before that she’d lost a few droids in the desert.

The Mandalorian rounded the speeder, securing a bag on the right side, a green little head popped out of it.

“I don’t think ‘it’ should come, if we encounter any bandits or raiders.”

The thing looked at the his keeper “Don’t worry about that, he’s seen worse.”

You turned to Peli, eyes widenned and flailing hands. She shrugged her famous grin on. Head lolling back and squeezing your eyes shut you let out a sigh then swiveled to him. “I drive, you shoot?” you ask adjusting your scarf around your mouth and nose.

“What?” he genuinely asked. Shaking your head amused you nod your head to the main seat for him to take. It'll be easier to hold him than him hold you.

Straddling the speeder you felt tiny behind him, the beskar was cold even under the twins suns, a gurgle took your attention off the reflecting beskar in front of you. Wrinkled critter.

Keeping a grip on Mando’s side you check the Holo map as the speeder bike hovered at its fastest speed. Gesturing at Mando to indicate the path, the moisture farm would be visible in a few visvia. A glare caught your eye a second too late, you flew from the speeder, crashing hard against the burning sand. Between your grunts and those of the Mandalorian you heard Tusken Raiders' howls.

Groaning you hold your ribs rolling on your good side “Freaking dehydrated Raiders!” The little green being was confused a meter from you, sadly sat on the sand. “Mando, your .. kid,” his broad shadow came into view, soon scooping the child.

Finger at the trigger you look up at the cliffs “Thought you were friends with them!”

The Mandalorian was trying to salvage the speeder bike while you looked at the map for a safer and faster path, still eyeing the cliffs now and then. “Don’t bother, engine’s burnt.” Greeny made a worried sound.

“The tuskens, they are the shoot first, ask question later kind of people,” he posted himself on your right, you glanced at him stealthily. Even without seeing his face, his demeanour showed he was pissed off.

“You both have something in common,” you sheath your blaster in the small of the back holster.

“What?” you sensed it took it the wrong way, so quickly clarified “Showing skin is not allowed,”

“Just as your not allowed to show your tattoos!” he riled back.

Your head jerked back, you were not expecting the backlash. You stalked past him, “We should go, the farm ain’t far!” putting as much distance between you and the bounty hunter.

The Mandalorian regretted his words as soon as they came out. He surely was the last one to have a say about others’ customs and beliefs. Your behavior somehow disarmed him, he didn't know how to act anymore.

The suns were getting low in your back, you thank the maker your body was acclimated for dry lands. The hair at your nape rose in a instant, you looked back at the horizon standstill for a few seconds.

"We must take shelter," you whispered. The green critter tilted his head to you followed by his Mandalorian whom picked up your words through his enhanced helmet.

"Sandstorm!" you ran past him, heading for the rocks ahead.

Pulling your large scarf around your face, the Mandalorian was hot on your tail, you realized you wouldn’t like to be one of his bounty, his impressive broadness and the heavy beskar made you shivered. Sliding between two big rocks, you fumbled with your water jug, quickly wetting your scarf around your mouth. The Mandalorian soon joined you with a distorted groan, the baby oddly excitied about the run out was babbling.

"Here," you wet a rag you kept in your rucksack handing it to to him. "It’ll need it," taking the rag from your hand he gently folded it and wrapped the child’s mouth and pointy ears. A gust of hard wind and sand hit the rocks, the light disappearing instantly you found yourself enveloped in a dusty copper shadow. Clenching your eyes shut, your hands immediately went to the child's eyes. You felt his little hands holding onto yours. It’s not a game you thought. The sand was hard on the few uncovered patches of skin on your face, but it soon stopped. You could still hear the wind, the sand rattling the rocks but you couldn't feel it anymore. Opening your eyes carefully, your head jerked back. Beskar. The T visor of his helmet was staring at you. Looking up you saw his arm holding his cape around you three. Your hand unconsciously slowly slipped from the child's eyes. Your reflection was staring at you with wide eyes, its closeness made you uneasy yet not unwelcomed, as the kid was still holding your fingers, this one whined.

“It won’t take long,” Mando spoke, his head dropping to the green child. Adverting your eyes from his visor you scolded yourself, and your increasing heartbeat.

His eyes were trained on your geometrical tattoos adorning your delicate face, he didn’t expect to lost himself in your eyes as you opened them. His gut twisted when you moved back with a start.

Few minutes later you were dusting sands from your hair and clothes “We should be at the farm in a bit,”

He nodded "I hope they have a speeder to lend us there,”

That yes, coz I won't make it back by walking. I'm no bantha

Both of you let out a relieved sigh when the farm appeared in the horizon. Bhindi Kayle welcomed you in the abode, the farm was practically empty, all the workers were home or in town, only an old man sat at the far end of a bench. Bhindi Kayle was an old aquaintance of Peli, he cut you off as soon as you started talking, he stood before you oddly trying to assert a sort of dominance, he’d never been like that.

"Yeah Peli send us a hologram earlier this week,” Mando's chest heaved as soon as the farmer interrupted you. “Didn't expect a Mandalorian to work for her,"

Aaah, a men’s ego.

The kid babbled a confused note, "I'm not working for Motto," Mando stated, galled.

"The Mandalorian is ... here for protection, somehow." The child looked at you from the satchel on Mando's hip.

The old man rumbled from the corner, "A mirialan, a Mandalorian and a ... whatever that is ... roaming around Tatooine, what a sight."

"Ah don't listen to him, he lost his mind since the Lars’ farm got burned down,” Bhindi leaned in whispering ”inhaled too much smoke while trying to raid the place."

Negotiating the parts’ price was not in the deal but knowing Peli wasn’t here, Bhindi tried. Yeah tried, not for nothing Peli Motto took you in, you were as stubborn as a falumpaset, gosh you missed Naboo.

"Do you have a speeder?” Mando asked his tone becoming a bit hesitant “Ours ... blown off on the way," your refrained a smirk.

"Well, we have swoops but you'll be back to Peli in days at that speed." You followed him through the pit to the garage. Eyes skimming the messy place, looked like a junkyard, the green kid was touching everything, you lose your footing on a piece of scrap while looking at it, firm gloved hands propped you up by the shoulders without a word. Embarrassment filed you as Mando’s hands left your shoulders with hesitation.

"Are those... pieces of a Bantha-II cargo skiff?" You stepped onto the old railing, trying to distract yourself from the burning feel of his touch. "Where did you get that?"

"That old rusty thing? We found it a few years back. The Hutts might have abandoned it, thankfully for us the Jawas were late on this one." Bhindi rummaged through a bunch of metal "We keep some engines we found for the parts, just in case. Ah!"

He proudly showed his finding. You heard the Mandalorian groaned behind you.

"Might be cramp on it with the two of you, but it can do."

Mando was not amused "A skimboard?" his hands reached his hips, he stood there staring at Bhindi. Stepping down the railing, a light smile spread on your lips.

"I'm good with it," you grabbed the board "you fly, I use the skimboard," his bucket head turned to you, the heavy silence coming from the Beskar clad man had Bhindi lose his tough demeanour, but had you amused.

"Hum, I can probably find an old speeder bike," The Mandalorian nodded at the farmer.

Inspecting the slick metal, your hand dusted off the sand of off it "How much for it?"

"25 alliance credits will do," he shrugged. "Deal," Bhindi hurried away in the back of the garage.

“I’ll be back in a minute,”stepping out the junkyard, you head for the hydroponic garden.

The sand had crawled under your layers, it soon became itchy and abrasive. Stripping down your top layers, you stayed in your dark undershirt. Vigorously dusting off your copper colored top and black hood, the dusts particles shining under the sun rays. Cupping water in your hands, your let the fresh water ran down your tattooed arms. Cold water on your face never felt so good, even after hours working on a spaceship it wasn’t as satisfying.

“Khayle found us a landspeeder” you gasped at his voice, holding your arms around you and turning your back to him; Mando became even more silent than usual. The tattoos on your arms and body were not to be seen by everyone, it wasn’t as strict as Mandalorian’s creed or the Tuskens but still, you were meant to choose the few who would see them. The one on your face were your achievement, your proudness, you could show them. But those on your body were more personal, promises to your species, and to yourself. Since the farm was empty you thought it would be safe to undress, apparently not.

Mando paused, he wasn’t expecting that, seeing the tattoos on your wrists earlier he thought that was it but seeing your inked arms and shoulders blades he felt pulled by curiosity but as soon as he saw you flinched and tried to hide your arms, he turned away.

He walked out, not saying a word, thinking about what he said earlier. Peli did warn him. Feeling your rushed breathing haven out, and the thundering sound of your bloodstream into your ears fading you reached for your copper long sleeve top. As you tried to snatch it you felt a resistance, the child, coming to you his little claws up to touch your arms. Big dark eyes staring at you, oddly similar to the dark visor of his keeper. Feeling that pull deep inside, you frowned putting your hood on and grabbing the child, holding it bunglingly, he kept looking at you.

“You forgot something.” You gently shoved him the child, then rounded the landspeeder.

Bhindi casually leaned on the abode “You should stay for the night, Raiders thrive at night.”

Mando watched you sit at the driver’s seat, your hood hiding your expression. “We’ll be fine,” he answered not sparing a glance at Bhindi. The child fell asleep an hour after leaving the moisture farm that’s when Mando decided to talk.

“If I’d known ...” you stayed silent “Did I endanger your faith or beliefs?” he asked seriously concerned.

“Mirialans, we …” you scoffed “I’ll be fine.”

Something in his tone changed “I’m sorry, it wasn’t done on purpose.” The child’s ears settled down in a snore; it was as he was feeling his keeper’s trouble even through his sleep.

“Something happened, when I was not even an idea.” you felt compelled to tell the story behind the tattoos since he saw most of them. “My ancestor was part of the Senate, she believed in a way of life, now long forgotten. She fought for it but soon realized it was wrong, she was never meant to fight, she was meant to keep the peace. Her loyalty faded, she did bad things ... I’m bond to her in some ways I can’t explain.”

The Mandalorian stayed silent, you were used to it at this point.

“The old Galactic Senate banished her. No one remembers Bariss Offee now, she's been long gone. But I do.”

“The old Galactic Senate...” Mando clenched his fist “I heard about it,”

“Some of my tattoos are meant to heal her soul through me. After her fall, my family scattered, we were forbidden to talk about her, we were forced to strip ourselves from our knowledge. I was young, my parents flew us to another galaxy, there we live like humans. But my parents kept one of our custom, the tattoos.” you shrugged, even Peli didn’t know about all this, she knew about your exile but that’s all.

“I…I don’t know if I can say this and my apologize if it’s misplaced but you .. uhm” Mando asked himself why he was so stressed about telling you his honest feel about it “..they are ..pretty,” the repulsorlift the only sound perceptible. That wasn’t the reaction you were expecting, especially coming from the renown bounty hunter, eyes leaving the road you stared at him confused but somehow relieved, your hood flew back reveling your face to him.

A tuskens battle cry made you break, standing up on your seat, immediately reaching for your blaster and glowrod.

“Hold on,” he posed the sleeping child on your seat, getting down.

“Mando, they shoot us once, I’m not taking any chance,”

“I’ll talk to them,” he stated calmly “lower your blaster and stay close,”

You inhaled loudly, putting away your weapon. Emerging from the dark, tall figures soon surrounded you. The deep grunt coming out the helmet at your side startled you, his gestures and groans had the attention of the faceless Raiders. The silence on their part didn’t do much to ease your worry until they answered, though you couldn’t understand, the stance of your companion made you feel safe.

“They’re saying we should camp out, another tribe, the one who shot us is ahead of us,”

“Camp out, with them?” you whispered as if they could understand you “I heard things about them,”

“Not everything you hear is true,” Mando’s visor was trained on your hesitating features. Well you didn’t have much of a choice, you weren’t going to leave without him and the green thing.

“You take the first watch,” you gathered your backpack, he nodded at you, preceding you.

The kid now awaken, was nestled between his keeper’s feet, staring at the fire in front of him. It might have felt you staring because his little ears perked up and he soon waddled to you. The kid kept trying to hold you or touch your hand.

"Is it always like that? Clingy?" You poked the child’s forehead making him wobble back.

Mando tilted his head with a sigh, silently asking if your gesture was really necessary.

"Not really," He reached for the child but this latter whined, settling when he grabbed your index’ first phalanx.

"You were saying!?" You sighed as the kid looks like he was concentrating on your finger. As he kept doing that you felt that pull again, deep inside of you, an inner energy you usually only could feel during your ancestor’s vision. It scared you, snatching your finger from the kid, you look at the big eyes now staring at you. "What are you!"

“Easy,” Mando ushered the kid back to him “He has powers, I should have warned you,”

“What kind of power?”

“He can move things with his mind or something similar” your mind processed the news, “I’ve been quested to bring him back to his kind,"

The child climbed your feet to get closer, your lips turned down in an uneasy grimace, you weren't exactly gifted with children, if it was one though. Clingy beings, loud and stinky, not your thing.

The Mandalorian kept an eye on you without your knowledge, he'd never seen anyone be so hesitant with the child before.

Mando talked with the Tuskens while you ate, he sometimes translated for you in case you were interested in their conversation.

....

"You are missing a piece on the turbines’ launch lever by the way, want another one!?" You asked him sleepily, "That won't be necessary," he chuckled and it caught you off guard but you said nothing.

A young tusken handed you a fur cloth, hesitantly grabbing it you eyed Mando, he made a gesture to the raider.

"I take the first watch," even with his vocoder you could hear the grin.

Waking up in a sweat you observed your surroundings. A bantha was snoring loudly next to a pack of sleeping tuskens. A soft snore not far from you got your attention. The child was tucked on Mando's side, his ears heaving with his breaths.

The fire reflecting on the beskar mesmerized you, it was like Mando's was made of fire. Was he sleeping?

“You’re okay?”

“My ribs hurts, I’m cold, but I’m managing.” you stood up, stepping closer to the fire. “Take some rest, it’s my shift.”

“Here,” you turned around just in time to caught the e-bacta shot, Mando closed his belt pocket and crossed his arms, leaning on a rucksack, ready to rest.

“Thanks..” you stared at his calm composure, forgetting he could still be looking at you behind that visor.

Your gaze on him got him agitated, he tried his best to rest his eyes but he couldn’t detached his from yours, somehow you always manage to made eye-contact, most people didn’t even dare look straight at him. He stayed alert as you went to the land speeder, lifting your top enough to reach your bruised flank, he saw you brace yourself for the shot.

1,2 “Hmmm!!!” you muffled your groan in your elbow as the three needles deeped in your flesh, youknew that in a few minutes you’ll be alright but maker it hurt.

The suns getting up, you were seated on the land speeder’s hood watching the twins made their entry, I’ll never get tired of this.

“We’re good to go, the other tribe moved north,” Mando set the child on the hood next to you to thanks the Tuskens.

The child lifted his head to you, silently staring, suddenly rushing to you head bumping your hip “ "Oof!” he angrily cuddled your side “Mando, what’s going on with it?”

“Hey, hey kid, no!” he cradled him into his arms “what did you do?”

“Nothing!” you jumped down the hood “It slammed into me,”

“He never acts like that, there’s something with you,” Mando stated

“Oh maker come on Mando,” your voice tightened “I’m a nobody, an exile mirialan, I’m no Jedi like my ancestor!” you realised as soon as you said it, screwing your eyes shut.

“Your ancestor was a Jedi?”he stepped forward, his demeanour now threatening but you stood your ground. “And you’re telling me now?”

“Mando I, ... I’m not sure about it, I don’t even understand the visions I have, that’s why I didn’t say anything.”

“We should go!” he shut himself, the child whined against his keeper’s chest.

The ride back to Peli was excruciating, Mando didn’t talk to you or ease the kid’s fuss. The three of you made it back to Peli without issues.

She was about to make one of her famous punchline but she saw your concerned face as you passed by her deposing the vaporator’s pieces on her desk.

Peli planted herself before him “What did you do?” he sighed.

Mando watched as the door hiss closed behind you.

“How much do you know about them?”

“What’d you do!?” Peli insisted before answering his question. As stubborn as you he thought. He related the conversation, he’d never seen Peli so mad.

The soft knock on your door told you it wasn't Peli. It opened on your command.

“We need to talk,” Mando stepped-in

“Oh now you want to talk!” you threw a wrench in your tool box “We had a full ride for that.”

“You lied to me!” he pointed his finger to the ground

“I didn’t LIE to you! I just ..didn’t tell you all of it. Jedis and Mandalorians are not exactly friends for all I know,”

“The child might be a Jedi and you didn’t care to tell me you knew about he’s people.” the tiny bedroom was crowded with his presence, deep inside behind the anger lied a fluttering feeling when he entered your space.

“My ancestor had that kind of power, but I don’t know shit about it, I told you if you were to even listen!” tears at the brim at your eyes remembering your parents’ tale about their exile, you inhaled trying to stay focused.

“I’ve listened,” he regained his neutral tone “if you are like your ancestor then maybe you have that power in you, that’s why the child is reaching out to you, he might feel it,”

you scoffed “I’m a mecha not a Jedi,” the child made you jumped when he touched your hand, he had climbed the comforter hanging from your cot.

“Mando, I’d … never mean to hide things from you, I’m just..scared.” You let the child hold your finger “An unknown powerful energy in me, how would you react! Even if I’d want to know, I don’t even know where to start.”

He nodded leaving your cramped bedroom with the child. Few minutes later Peli called out, sighing you drag your feet to her desk.

“What is it that you want Motto?” you taunted but the teasing voice died seeing Mando on the other side of her seat.

“I’ve been quested to bring him to the jedi.” his visor on you, knitted your brows you wait for his speech. “I could use a mecha on board, one that needs answer of some sorts,” his grave voice resonated in your ears, he faced Peli while saying it. She sighed knowingly; her face torned with doubts.

“I can’t, Peli you need me and I ..”

“Kid, I’ve seen you distraught after your visions, it’s getting worse,” Peli sighed “Well, I’m not saying losing my best mecha is ideal,” you tried your best to keep the feelings at bay “…but go if you have to, I’ll managed” she patted you shoulder, herself containing her sniffles.

“Take care of this piece of junk,” she snorted making you laugh.

“I’ll come back,”

“Don’t you dare, you're young, get out of this desolate place. Go get the galaxy,”

Smiling at her you hugged her tight “Oh come on, come on” she shooed you away, striding to your room to pack, you didn’t see her made eyed contact with Mando’s visor, a silent plead to keep you safe, he nodded.

Stepping in the cockpit, you sat on the passenger seat at his right. The green being was on your right eyeing you, you suprised yourself smiling at him. Mando came in and the kid starts to shift in his pod, you watched Mando as he took something on the control panel and swivelled to the baby. Thlatter reached out, his keeper letting a shiny metal ball fall into his little claw.

“That’s…” you said out loud. Your eyes darted to the turbines launcher’s lever. Mando finally turned to you and shrugged tilting his helmet.

“A mirialan, a Mandalorian and a Jedi ... what a sight.”

#The Mandalorian x reader #Mando x reader #mando fanfiction #Mando imagines #Mirialan reader #force sensitive reader #slow burn #din djarin x reader #Din Djarin imagines #Vhekadla #Mando x mirialan!reader

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buckyodinson · 5 years

Text

A Clan of Three (Mandalorian x fem!Reader)

This is dedicated to @tlittlet (hope you don’t mind me tagging you in this) - I saw your post saying:

‘I wish I could read a mando x reader where the reader is all shy but passionate and mando craving for touch. But like, I know I can write it but I don’t want to write it, I want to read it, do you know what I mean? 😫’ and I kinda ran away with it?

A/N: This is the first thing I’ve written in about a year and a half so it may be a little rusty, and it’s based vaguely on the post mentioned above. I just love Mando a lot right now, and this is the first time in a long time I’ve actually felt compelled to write something, so I hope some people out there can enjoy this, as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Feedback is appreciated!!

Word count: 2.6k

There was a lot left unspoken on the Razor Crest as of late. You’d been travelling with Din and the Child for just over a year now, and barriers had slowly broken down in that time. A lot had been shared between the two of you, but a lot had been kept under wraps on both sides, through fear of rejection. You loved both Din and the Child with every fibre of your being, and it tore you apart trying not to just lay all your cards on the table, but you were terrified the gamble was too risky.

You would often be left on the Crest while Din fetched his latest bounty, staying to watch over the Child and keep him out of harms way. You felt a true maternal instinct, and while watching over the Child while he slept or played with whatever he could get his hands on in the cockpit, your thoughts would drift to the signet on Din’s pauldron - a clan of two - and how desperately you wished to be a clan of three.

You loved Din. You knew as much. You knew from very early on, after a few weeks of settling into life with the pair of them on the Crest, you knew this was a life you could get used to. And you thanked the Maker that you could spend at least part of your life travelling the galaxy with two who you truly and genuinely loved. You wanted to let him know how you felt, but you knew The Way. And you knew you couldn’t put Din in a situation like that - partly because you didn’t want to disrespect the life he swore to uphold when he swore The Creed, and partly because you were terrified he didn’t feel the same, and he’d drop you off at the next system to avoid the awkwardness that would likely ensue.

So you kept quiet. You would often lie awake at night, thinking of endless scenarios of what life would be like if he knew. If he felt the same. If he took his helmet off, abandoning his bounty hunting life to settle down on a planet somewhere in the outer rim, just the three of you. A clan of three. There goes that thought again, and just as quickly as it enters your mind, it’s snatched away when you scold yourself for getting carried away. You’re setting yourself up for heartbreak, and you know it, but you’re too far gone to care.

Unbeknownst to you, Din would also often lie awake in the safe confines of his quarters, with his helmet removed, wondering how the soft touch of your hands would feel on his face. How your lips would fit against his. How perfect your body would slot into his as you laid together, your head tucked into the crook of his neck. These ephemeral thoughts calmed him after a long day, but they also brought pangs of sadness, knowing that they were only his imagination. She’d never feel the same. After all, how could she? All she’s ever known is the cold, unforgiving glare of Beskar. She’s never seen the longing on his face when she’s idly hanging up a small decoration she bought at a market, his mind racing at the thought of a domestic life with her. Nor had she seen the soft smile he can’t seem to shake when he catches her playing or chatting away with the Child.

He craved her touch. He’s only felt it in fleeting moments. Usually when one of them is badly injured after a particularly nasty run-in with a bounty. On many occasions, he’s been badly hit with a blaster in places he can’t patch up himself, and she silently reaches for the med-kit and beckons for him to sit with her. She removes his Beskar so softly, as if it isn’t one of the toughest materials around, and it makes his heart ache. She works mostly in silence, other than to ask him if it’s okay to lift his undershirt. She always asks. She doesn’t have to, and she knows, he’s told her so many times. But still she does. And that longing creeps into his entire body every time, knowing she truly respects his way of life.

When she works, her delicate hands clean the injury with feather-light touches, using a bacta spray to help with further healing, before applying a bandage. Even these light touches cause shivers to run up Din’s spine, and he knows it’s a ridiculous reaction to have, given the circumstances, but nobody has ever been so gentle with him. Nobody has ever taken the time to make sure he is okay. Once, he was so exhausted from a fight with a bounty that ended badly, that after he’d taken all his armour off, dropped it to the floor, and let you tend to his wounds, he’d fallen asleep where he’d been sat, in the hull of the ship. When he woke, he found a blanket draped over him, and all his armour was neatly arranged on the nearby shelves, seemingly having been polished. He was speechless. It was such a sweet gesture on your behalf, he didn’t know how to react. He wished he knew how to thank you for all you did for him. But he just didn’t know how.

When you helped with his injuries, you never failed to notice the almost imperceptible hitches in his breath, and small sighs he let out as you worked. You never questioned them, but they made you wonder when the last time he was ever touched by another person. If he had been touched by another person since he swore the Creed, and vowed to live his life shielded from the world.

The day came when things left unspoken finally bubbled to the surface. Din had been out looking for a bounty, and had been gone for several days. You grew worried very quickly, as even the toughest of jobs brought him back to the Crest within a day or two. But it was four days since you’d last seen or heard from him. The Child was beginning to grow restless, being cooped up in the ship. You spent most of your time pacing the cockpit, trying to contact him, to no avail. You knew it was dangerous to leave the ship, and leave the Child unattended, so you had to settle for staying in the Crest and praying to the Maker that you’d see him emerge from the tree-line any minute.

You slept very lightly while Din was away, any and every noise rousing you, hoping it was the ramp lowering, and Din coming back. After five days of nothing, you finally heard that familiar hiss of the ramp to the Crest opening, and you all but sprinted from your cot to the ramp. You were ecstatic that he had returned, but also terrified at what state he may be in. You were right to feel this way, because once the ramp lowered and you caught a glimpse at him, you knew he was in trouble. He was leaning heavily on his left leg, and you ran down the ramp before he all but collapsed into your arms. You made quick work of dragging him into the ship and closing the ramp door.

You set him on the floor and made quick work of removing his armour, disregarding your usual tentative movements. The more armour you removed, the more blood and grime you noticed on his underclothes, and the sight made you gasp.

You spoke softly but with a sense of urgency, “Din… I’m going to take your underclothes off. Is that okay?”

You received no reply.

“Din? Can you hear me?” You tried again, but to no avail. You reached one hand under his neck to support it while you reached your other under his jaw, and could still feel a strong pulse, which calmed your nerves ever so slightly. But upon pulling your hand other hand back to rest his head on the ground, you noticed your hand was covered in blood. You began to really panic now, not knowing how to proceed with the situation. He needed serious medical attention, but you didn’t want to overstep the clear boundaries he lived by.

You knew his safety came first, but you also didn’t want to jeopardise his religion and risk him never being able to put the helmet back on again. So you removed his underclothes and got to work on all the injuries on his body first. His chest rising and falling as you worked comforted you by a fraction, but the lack of sighs and grunts made you acutely aware that his head injury needed treating soon.

You quickly disappeared to your room and ripped a strip of fabric from the bottom of your blanket before coming back and dropping onto your knees by Din’s side yet again. You gathered all the materials you needed before securing the fabric around your eyes and tying it in the back of your head. You took a deep breath before reaching for Din’s helmet. You pressed a switch, and heard the hiss as you slowly lifted it from his head and placed it softly on the ground next to you.

You lifted him slightly and stuck a leg out underneath his shoulders, so you could feel the back of his head and assess the injury. You located to wound fairly easily, and while it wasn’t large, it was bleeding a lot, so you applied a bacta spray to it after wiping his hair first. You tried to ignore the butterflies in your stomach as you ran your hands through his hair. You slowly felt his face using the hand not covered in blood, checking for any smaller injuries that may be there. You found nothing, and rested your hand on his cheek while you sighed, hoping you’d done enough for the meantime. You were shocked when you felt Din’s hand cover yours, and you immediately went to pull your hand away but his grip tightened.

He cleared his throat and croaked out a small “Thank you”. You smiled at his unfiltered voice, the first time you’d ever heard it. And while it was barely there, and scratchy, after all he’d been through, it was still him, and you couldn’t help but feel lucky to have heard it in all it’s beauty.

“It’s okay… I could probably do a better job of it, but with the blindfold, there’s only so much I can-“

“Take it off..” he whispered, and you flinched back in shock, not knowing if you heard him correctly.

After a beat of silence, his hand came up to rest on your cheek, mirroring your actions, and he slowly lifted the material covering your eyes. He chuckled and coughed a little when he noticed your eyes screwed shut. He came to rest his hand on your cheek again, the unfamiliar feel of his skin warm against yours, as his thumb moved slowly across your cheekbone. “You can open your eyes, cyar’ika… it’s okay.”

You slowly obliged, and you were completely taken aback by his features. His soft brown eyes looked up at you, and despite the pain that must be coursing through his body, he was smiling at you. You took notice of his curly brown locks, some of which were stuck to his forehead. You brushed them away, before running your fingers down his hooked nose, to rest on his lips, where he lightly kissed your fingertips. Before you knew it, tears were falling from your eyes, and his face contorted into one of concern.

“I’m sorry, Din.” You breathed out as he swiped his thumb under your eye.

“What do you have to be sorry for, mesh’la?” He spoke, his voice a little stronger now.

“The Creed. I’ve seen your face. You can’t go back now. I’m so sorry.” You hung your head, and felt him slowly manoeuvre himself to sit up in front of you.

“What if I don’t want to go back?” He all but whispered, lifting your chin.

You met his gaze again and was frozen in place as he lent towards you and slowly brought your lips to his. You barely had time to react before he pulled away, your lips almost chasing his as he smiled against you.

“I’ve been thinking for a long while now, about you… about us. I get this unfamiliar feeling deep inside me when I think of you. When I see you with the Child. At first I dismissed it, thinking that was just how it felt to finally have a real friend. But then I would get worried sick when I was out looking for bounties... worried about you. Worried that something would happen to you here in the Crest and I’d be none the wiser. Then I realised. It was love.” He fell into silence, and you both sat there for what felt like an eternity, comfortable to just be there with each other, no more words needing to be exchanged.

He finally spoke up again, “I never acted on it, always telling myself ‘This is the way’. Telling myself this is the life I was born to live, it’s not fair to drag you into it. I never thought, for a second, that you could feel the same. But seeing you now, scared that I might be dying, but still blindfolding yourself to respect the Creed… that was all the confirmation I needed. Tell me I’m right?” He pulled away slightly to look in your eyes, and you saw tears brimming in his.

You nodded, not trusting your voice, before leaning in to kiss him back. Your lips touched, and in this kiss, you felt everything that had gone unspoken this past year. You broke apart and whispered against his lips, “I’ve always loved you Din.”

He whispered something back in Mando’a, and while you didn’t understand it, you’re sure you knew what he meant. You leaned back to look at him once more, and as you brushed his hair from his face, he winced slightly. His injuries dawned on you again, and you slowly rose, helping him to his cot. You fetched him a glass of water, something to dull the pain, and something to eat, and out of habit, started to leave, when he grabbed your wrist and silently pleaded with you to stay. He moved to lay on his side and you joined him in his cot, resting your back against his chest. He closed his eyes, and couldn’t quite believe you were here in his cot, laying pressed against him, like he dreamed of not long ago. He remembers a time when he would chastise himself for thinking you would ever feel this way, and yet here you were.

The door to his quarters opened with a hiss and the Child moved slowly over to the bed, looking at the pair of you with his wide eyes. You leaned down to pick him up and place him against your chest, where he promptly fell asleep. Din wrapped his arm around both you and the Child and held you both securely as he drifted off. You stayed awake a little while longer, just laying there smiling to yourself. As sleep finally consumed you, only one thought danced in your mind, you were finally a clan of three.

#the Mandalorian x reader #Mandalorian x reader #din djarin x reader #dyn jarren x reader #Mandalorian imagine #din djarin imagine #dyn jarren imagine #Mandalorian fanfic #din djarin fanfic #dyn jarren fanfic #mandalorian x fem!reader #din djarin x fem!reader #dyn jarren x fem!reader

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wiypt-writes · 4 years

Text

Stark Spangled Banner

Ch32: The Impossible Choice. Part 2: One Which Crumbles From Within

Summary: Katie faces an impossible choice- her husband or her brother.

Warnings: Bad language, angst

Pairing: Steve Rogers x OFC Katie Stark

A/N: Wonderful edit again from @angrybirdcr

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Katie Stark and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Chapter 32 Part 1

Stark Spangled Banner Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Katie had no idea how long she sat waiting, lost in her thoughts and worries but eventually she heard a shuffling noise and spun round to see Steve supporting Bucky who was missing his metal arm. Both men were bloodied, battered, but alive.

“Where’s Tony?” She asked as she stood up, looking at Steve.

Steve took a deep breath, “In there. It got out of hand but he’s okay.” Katie immediately headed to the door of the bunker.

“Katie, he won’t listen.” Steve shook his head sadly as he called after her. “This…it’s too far gone to fix.

“I have to try Steve, he’s my brother.”

She left the sentence hanging, not looking back as she moved back into the bunker. She had to try and talk him round, make him understand this was what Zemo wanted. It was the last chance to try and sort all of this out. If she couldn’t then there was no way Steve could go back. No way he would go back.

And she was going to lose one of them.

“Tony.” She spoke gently, walking towards where he was sat, back against a wall in the depth of the concrete building.

“You know, when Rogers asked for your hand in marriage I couldn’t have been happier. Finally you’d met someone that treat you well, looked after you. Now, I wish he’d never come out of that fucking iceberg.” He snarled up at her.

Katie took a deep breath. “You’re upset, I get that.”

“Really? You do?” Sarcasm dripping off every word as Tony glared at her. “That’s good because I thought for a moment you were missing the point.”

“What is the point, Tony? Do you think for one minute that I like what happened to our Parents?”

“How long have you known?” he looked at her.

“Since we took SHIELD and Hydra down.” She bowed her head.

“Two years?!” his voice rang round the cavern. “You knew for Two fucking years?” “I didn’t know for certain it was him until yesterday, I swear.” She took a deep breath “But Steve is right. It wasn’t Bucky that did it. It was the Winter Soldier.”

“Oh God, he’s brainwashed you as well.” Tony groaned, banging his head against the wall. “That man murdered our parents!”

“HYDRA murdered our parents.”

“BUT HE DID IT!” Tony yelled, “And whilst that mind control is in there he’s a danger and he needs to be dealt with.”

“He needs help.”

Tony laughed, scornfully “Frankly if you believe that, you’re the one that needs help.”

“We both know what it’s like to be tortured, to have your dignity stripped from you in a way people cannot possibly imagine.” Katie swallowed, turning to her brother “And for us it was weeks Tony, fucking weeks. He endured it for seventy damned years.” “He killed our mom!” Tony screamed. “And he saved my life!” Katie yelled back, her voice cracking. “The Winter Soldier did those things, not Bucky Barnes. Tone, this is tearing me in two. I can’t choose between you, I can’t do it!” “You already chose.” “No, I didn’t. I did what I thought was right. Not just the Accords but coming here. And you know it was right too, deep down or you wouldn’t be here either. You saw those soldiers in there, it could have been so much different.” Tony snorted. “For once in your life just admit you’d follow Rogers anywhere.” Katie shook her head, sniffing slightly as her eyes misted over “You’re my brother, my father even, and I love you so much, but he is my husband and I love him too. What am I supposed to do, huh? Tell me?” Tony looked at her, and turned away. He felt betrayed, by them both. But as much as he hated what she had done, he loved his sister beyond belief and he knew no matter what happened here there would be no winners. If she stayed her heart would break at losing Steve and she would end up inside that shit hole pokey until some agreement or deal was done.

And if she left, she might be free, but then he would lose her.

But Tony knew the thing that would break her the most was having to make that choice, a choice between a life on the run with Rogers, or being with him. He couldn’t see her go through that, he couldn’t see her miserable and without the man she loved, and who clearly loved her, despite the fact he might be an asshole. There was nothing else to do, Tony had to make the choice for her.

And moreover he knew he had to be the one to lose.

"I don’t even wanna look at you right now.” His voice cracked and he turned away. “Get lost, go on.” “And go where?” Her voice was strained. "Wherever your precious Captain is running to. And you best run fast. Because if Ross gets hold of you, you’re both gonna be in that pokey with the rest of them and I’ll make sure Rogers never sees the light of day again.” “And me?” Her eyes were wet with tears as she looked at him. “You went against the accords.” He shrugged, unable to meet her eye “Maybe they could get you a double cell.” Katie felt her heart breaking. Her brother, the man who had been there all her life, was actively pushing her away. This is what it had come to. But just as she was about to argue, try and see they could get a way through this, he delivered the final blow. “You know, I’m glad mom and dad ain’t here to see this, because they’d be so ashamed of you.” Tony took a deep breath before he delivered the blow he knew would kill her, and he was going to hate himself for it. “Hell, I’m ashamed of you.” That. That there, was the moment Katie felt her heartbreak. “Tony.” Her voice cracked “Tell me you don’t mean that.” “I mean every word.” Tony lied, forcing himself to look at her. He didn’t mean any of it, he was beyond proud of her, how strong she was. But he knew, this was the only way she could be spared the agony of a shitty choice.

With a shaking sob Katie stood up and began to walk across the cavern slowly, giving Tony a chance to stop her but he didn’t. As she reached the start of the corridor she stopped, taking a deep breath and turned back to look at him through her tears.

“Me not telling you about mom and dad was a mistake. But I did it to save you from all this, save you from hurting because I figured you’d seen enough over the past goodness knows how long.” She shrugged, wiping her face. “I’m so sorry Tony.”

He looked away, not meeting her eyes because he couldn’t. “Just go.”

She walked from the cavern as calmly as she could. Once she was out of site she began to sprint, wanting nothing more than the comfort of Steve. She was that wrapped up in her thoughts, twice she took a wrong turn and hit a dead end, screaming in frustration, before eventually, after what seemed like a lifetime she burst out into the snow before collapsing onto the floor, a loud agonising wail erupting from her chest.

“Katie?” Steve saw his girl fall to her knees, the noise she made chilled him to the bones. He sprinted straight towards her, ignoring the aching all over his body from the blows he had taken over the past three days or so. He dropped besides her “Honey?”

Katie took a deep breath before she looked up at Steve unable to voice her emotions or explain what happened. She simply bowed her head again and shook it. Steve sighed and placed an arm round her shoulder “Come on.”

With his help she rose to her feet, looking round. There was no sign of T’Challa. Zemo or Bucky.

“Where is everyone?” She sniffed, sliding her arm around Steve’s waist, more for support than anything else.

“T’Challa left about two minutes ago. He’s taken Zemo to the United Nations.” Steve answered as they trudged through the snow.

“Least Bucky’s in the clear.”

“He’s not.” Steve sighed “Even if he’s proven not guilty they’ll want to lock him up, especially whilst HYDRA are in his mind.” He stopped at the bottom of the ramp to the jet and turned to face her, taking a deep breath as he knew this was it. The point at which she was going to have to make a decision on what she did next, and his heart was breaking for her.

“T’Challa has offered to help. He’s given me the coordinates to Wakanda and says he has someone there who could assist in fixing whatever it is Hydra did to Buck’s mind.”

“If the UN catch on he’s harbouring him it’ll cause even more trouble.” “I know, which is why they can’t find out.” Steve looked at her. “T’Challa is going to tell the UN that we’re all here so they can send a craft out to pick everyone up. Then the cover story is that in the meantime Bucky and I escaped, and no one knows where we have gone.”

“Think they’ll buy it?” She asked, ignoring for a moment the fact that he had said Bucky and I, not Bucky and us.

“They’ve no reason not to.”

“And he really thinks he can help him?”

Steve nodded. “So that’s the plan. Take Bucky and lay low for a while, at least until I can figure out what to do next”

He paused for a moment and then looked up the ramp before taking a deep breath and looking at her.

“I didn’t want any of this to happen” he sighed, “and if you don’t want to come I’ll understand.” He took a deep breath, as he grabbed both of her hands, the tears swimming in his eyes. “I don’t ever want to force you to make a choice so whatever you do decide, I’ll understand, I just want you to know that I love you, I’ll always love you.”

Katie looked up at him, his last words were barely audible above his choked back sob. She knew Steve was going to run, and that he wouldn’t settle being behind bars, but he was offering her a way out, a chance to stay with Tony. Her husband had never, not once through this entire situation pressured her to take his side. And she hadn’t taken his side, she had done what she believed was the right thing. But now, when it came down to it, there was simply no choice for her to make. Tony hated her, the Accords had finished the Avengers, Ross would make sure she was locked away…and the thought of Steve not being with her broke her more than anything.

There was nothing else left for her to do but go.

Her eyes misted over as she looked up at the man who was her world, her everything. “I can’t stay.” She whispered “Not without you. Please don’t leave me.”

“Leave you?” His voice cracked and he pulled her into his chest, hard, hands pressed at the base of her back and her head as she fisted her hands into the dirty material of his uniform. “Never, Doll.”

“Then get me out of here.” She pulled back to look up at him, gently using her thumbs to wipe away the tears on his face that had run down below the line of his helmet.

“Are you sure?” He had to ask again. “Because if we do this, there’s no going back. You might be able to sort things with Tony if you stay.” “When I’m locked up in prison?” She shook her head “What’s the point in that. Besides, we both know that you wouldn’t stand for it. You’d break me out in a week.”

He gave her a soft smile, she was right. He would. She leaned up to place a soft kiss on his lips before she turned and strode up the ramp into the jet, wiping her eyes and putting her weapons away silently. Steve followed her in and she turned to look at him when she spotted Bucky who was looking significantly worse for wear sat on one of the seats.

“You okay?” she said gently. He looked up and swallowed.

“I’m sorry, I really am.” His voice cracked and his head hung again.

“I know.” She shrugged sadly as she headed over to cockpit.

Steve settled in the pilot seat just in front of her, removing his helmet and punching in some co-ordinates. Moments later the jet was airborne.

“Auto-pilot locked. ETA 4.5 hours” Katie muttered, reading the computer before she stood up and dropped her hand on Steve’s shoulder. “Think it’s about time I patched you boys up.”

“Start with Buck.” Steve instructed gently, standing up “He’s worse than I am.”

She moved to the back of the jet and began rummaging in the first aid boxes gathering various things before she told Bucky to sit on the gurney in the medi-bay area of the jet.

“This is probably gonna sting a little.” She bit her lip as she began to wipe gently at the various cuts and bruises on Bucky’s face. If it hurt he didn’t give any outward signs that it did. She then moved to the back of his head, clearing up a nasty gash from where he had taken a hit and, once that was done, she checked his arm. There was no new wound, but his metal arm had been removed just below the shoulder blade, leaving the metal socket intact.

“Does it hurt?” She asked him gently.

“No.”

She looked at Steve, shrugging as if to say that she had done the best she could and he nodded, looking at Bucky.

“Why don’t you rest?” He nodded over to the seats. “We’ve got a while before we arrive and I doubt any of us had much sleep last night.”

“You guys certainly didn’t.” Bucky said slyly as he stood up. Katie shared a look with Steve who she was amused to see had flushed from the neck upwards, the patches of his face that weren’t dirty were now a bright crimson.

“Walls in hotel rooms are thin.” Bucky continued, grunting slightly as he dropped into one of the seats, leaning back and closing his eyes.

Katie bit her lip as Steve sat down on the stretcher, same place Bucky had sat before. She studied his weary face and noticed that there was a huge bruise forming on his right cheek and a smaller abrasion on his left. His nose had at some point been bleeding and there was a split in his lip, but all in all his helmet had saved him for the most, as he was nowhere near as bad as Bucky. She gently wiped at his face, as tenderly as she could to avoid hurting him. She cleaned off the dirt, dried blood and then the cut above his eye, before moving to the one on his lip. As she touched it with the antiseptic wipe he hissed slightly.

“Stop being a baby.”

Steve opened his eyes and simply watched his wife’s face intensely. Her eyes were red rimmed from her crying and he couldn’t help but wonder what Tony had said to her when she had gone back in. But he knew she would tell him when she was ready. Eventually she finished and dropped the wipe she had been using into the dish to her right, and he placed both his hands on her hips and pulled her closer to him, so that she was stood in between his legs.

“I love you so much.” He whispered gently. She brought her hand up to brush across his now clean but bruised face and sighed.

“I know.” She dropped a soft kiss onto his lips, careful not to aggravate any cuts further. He would heal fast, he always did. In a few days there would be no evidence of any of these.

From over in the corner of the jet there came a soft groan “Get a room. Preferably not next to mine.”

*****

It was three hours into the journey before Katie finally told Steve everything. What Tony had said, how he had told her to leave, and that he was ashamed of her, and Steve’s heart broke for her as she cried again, her tears falling to his shoulder as he sat and simply held her before insisting she also took some rest. He knew what Tony had said was bullshit, the man was ridiculously proud of his sister, and he found himself understanding why he had done it. To save her from an impossible choice. Tony was as selfless as the next person where his sister was involved.

About forty-five minutes or so later, when Katie was fast asleep, Bucky woke up and he noticed Steve was sat in the seat at the front, simply staring out of the window.

“Got anything to drink?” He asked, and Steve’s head snapped round.

“Should be some water in the fridge, hang on…” “I lost my arm Punk, not my legs.” Bucky grumbled, heading over to where Steve was directing.

“Glad to see your attitude is still as bad as ever.” Steve raised an eyebrow as Bucky threw a bottle to him which he caught in his right hand.

“Yeah well, there are somethings even being brainwashed can’t get rid of.” Bucky sighed as he headed over to the seat by Steve. Clasping the bottle in his knees he worked the top off with his right hand and took a deep swig.

“Do you really think they can do it? You know, get whatever Hydra put in my head out?”

“T’Challa seems to think so.” Steve nodded, looking at his friend.

“Well, perhaps when he has we can catch up properly.” Bucky’s voice was wistful.

”Like old times huh?” Steve smiled, a twinkle in his eye.

Bucky grinned, before he grew serious again. “You know I did think about finding you, but…”

Steve looked at him for a moment and then leaned forward slightly. “How much do you remember?”

Bucky sighed, “I remember most things, about my life that is, but at first it was just a big jumble. That’s why I wrote it all down.”

The two men fell silent again, Steve full of his own guilt again for not going back for him that day he fell from the train. He could have spared him all of this.

“How did you do it?” Bucky asked suddenly, making Steve look back at him “Wake up seventy years in the future and just carry on?” “Katie.” Steve answered instantly, not even needing to think about it. “I came out of the ice, I’d lost everyone I knew, had no idea what to do, but then she turned up. Almost like it was meant to be.”

“I thought Steve Rogers didn’t believe in fate?” Bucky teased “What was it you used to say? You make your own luck?” Steve chuckled “I didn’t, I mean I don’t really, but whatever it was be it fate, luck, circumstance, hell, I’m just glad it happened.” He trailed off, before he carried on. “You know, I loved Peggy but that was nothing to what I feel for Katie. I can’t imagine being without her.”

Bucky looked at his friend, smiling. He had always known that when Steve found the right dame he would fall hard and fast, and it was clear he had. After all of his bad luck before the war, it was nice to see the man so happy and loved. But Bucky wasn’t going to let it lie without the chance to tease his friend. He grinned and looked at him, a cheeky smile spreading across his weary face.

“Yeah she’s pretty hot too. How did a punk like you manage to pull a gal like that?” “Buck!” Steve groaned exasperatedly as Bucky laughed.

“I’m just playing with you Stevie. I’m glad you found someone.” He smiled gently. “Just gutted I wasn’t at the wedding, well properly anyway. You looked happy though when you came out of the church.”

“I was. And I wish you could have been there properly too pal.” Steve’s voice taking on a teasing tone “But Sam made a pretty good substitute best man.”

“Wait, you had Seagull as your best man?” Bucky’s tone was indignant.

“He’s a good friend.” Steve paused again, before he took a deep breath. “You know I haven’t thanked you yet for saving her life.” He nodded over to where Katie was curled up in a seat under a blanket “I don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t been there.” “Right time right place.” Bucky shrugged “You know, I didn’t recognise her at first, just heard all this screaming and, well she was in a bad way.” “I know.” Steve dropped his head. “They…they hurt her.” Bucky didn’t need to ask what they had done to her. He could imagine.

“She’s okay now though, right?”

“Physically yeah.” Steve nodded “Mentally, well, she still has nightmares sometimes but don’t we all? She’s strong though, way stronger than me.”

“I dunno from the noises I heard last night you seemed to be pretty strong.” Bucky quipped and Steve groaned

“Sorry, our walls at the compound are soundproof so…” He offered an explanation, blushing again.

“Yeah, well the first time we just kinda ignored it but then when you started again an hour later, then again, well, frankly it was a little gross.”

“Guess we just got a bit carried away.” Steve felt the heat spread up his neck.

“Sam said you were showing off.” Bucky smirked causing Steve to snort. “You got some stamina, bud, I’ll give you that.”

“Something we both thank Dr Erskine for on a regular basis.” Steve shot back cheekily and Bucky barked out a laugh.

At that point the alert on the cockpit started to go and Katie sat up, rubbing her eyes as the noise roused her. Steve shot her a smile, pretty sure he was still blushing, and then turned to look at the dials on the cockpit

“Hey.” She approached the front, dropping her hand to Bucky’s shoulder as she pressed a soft kiss to Steve’s head. “We here?”

“I think so.” Steve frowned, “The co-ords are telling me to drop to 2600, heading 0-3-0…only…”

Katie looked ahead, it was nothing but a thicket of what looked like jungle.

“You trust T’Challa?” she asked, settling in a seat behind him.

“Yeah.”

“Then do it.” She said simply, looking at him like he was an idiot.

Bucky smirked slightly and Steve rolled his eyes, but obeyed all the same. They passed through the trees as they simply disappeared, like a computer image and they were left with the skyline of a beautiful city. Katie let out the breath I hadn’t even realised she had been holding.

“What the fuck?” Bucky whispered, and Steve laughed in agreement.

*****

They were welcomed by T’Challa’s Mother, younger Sister Suri and a few members of his King’s Guard. T’Challa was on his way back from the UN and wouldn’t be back for an hour or so, so in the mean time they were given something to eat and a place to clean up, Katie taking her time in the scalding hot shower in their luxurious suite. Steve had stayed with Bucky and she was glad, as she broke down once more thinking about Tony, wondering where he was. Once she had cried all the tears she had left to cry, she dried off and crawled into the bed passing out almost immediately. She didn’t feel Steve climb in besides her later on that night. He stayed awake for a lot longer than she did, having spent the evening with T’Challa who had filled him in on what the UN had said. Tony was home okay, he knew that much, and the authorities had accepted T’CHalla’s explanation, essentially meaning he, Katie and Bucky were outlaws. For once in his life he had no idea what to do next, and the guilt at dragging her into this was eating him up. With a sigh he wrapped his arms around her, pulled her close and drifted into an uneasy sleep.

The next day felt slightly more positive. After breakfast Suri took Bucky into her lab for a scan on his brain. Bucky had worried that going into a scanner would remind him of the machine Hydra used and could bring out the Winter Soldier again, but Suri had simply smiled and shook her head, before using what looked like a beaded bracelet to perform the scan.

Now she stood over a tablet looking at the image.

“Your mind has been fighting this the whole time.” she said tapping a few places on the tablet and bringing up a hologram image of Bucky’s brain for them all to see. She pointed to a bright, pink line which snaked all over the image “That’s what they put in there but it hasn’t melded properly, which I suspect is why you required constant…how to put this…recalibration I suppose.” she pondered something before she turned to look at the soldier and smiled. “I can fix this.”

“Really?” Bucky said, his head jerking up as he looked at her, his eyes shining.

“I may have to engineer something new equipment wise, and it could take me a few months to do it- but it is reversible.” She nodded, voice oozing with confidence as she looked at the scans of Bucky’s brain on the screen

“How?” Bucky frowned, hardly daring to believe what she was saying. He would be free…

“I can cut it out.” she said, like it was something she did every day. “Like I say, it has not melded to your brain. Think of it as foreign object, not a part of you, and all foreign objects can be removed.“

Katie squeezed Steve’s hand as Steve let out a loud breath as he looked up at the ceiling. Bucky was going to be ok. He glanced down at his wife who smiled at him, as they both turned to see Bucky’s eyes were wet as he wiped tears off his face. Suri dropped a hand to his shoulder.

“You won’t have to live with this anymore, Sergeant Barnes.” she said to him.

Bucky looked at her, then to Steve before his face crumpled and in a stride Steve had closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around his friend in a brotherly hug as Bucky sat on the bench, unable to believe that he was going to be free, finally free from Hydra. Katie watched the two of them as T’Challa gently squeezed her shoulder as he and Suri made to leave the room. She followed them, pausing in the doorway to turn to look at the two men, Steve stepping back from Bucky to look down at him as he wiped at his face, a teary smile crossing his features.

It had cost them everything, but at least there was something good going to come out of it all.

**** Chapter 33

**Original Posting**

#stark spangled banner #steve rogers #Katie Stark #steve rogers x ofc #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fic #mcu #mcu fanfic #chris evans #chris evans characters

49 notes · View notes

hunidlo · 3 years

Text

Call of Fire

CHAPTER 5 - The Quarry

Rating: M

Word Count: 3K

Pairing: The Mandalorian x F!Reader

Warnings: slow burn fic, language, this chapter is quite safe :)

Summary: You’re still not sure whether you should trust the Mandalorian. Both of you have your secrets and none of you is willing to share them with each other just yet.

Previous Chapter // Masterlist

***

“Mando!” you hear someone shouting across the parking area as you and your armour-clad companion descend the ramp. “Didn’t expect you to be back so soon.”

You landed on Nevarro just moments ago.

“I need to refuel and repair my ship,” the Mandalorian replies and grabs the man's outstretched forearm to greet him.

“My people will get right on it” the man gestures towards some mechanics nearby and they immediately get to work. “Shall we?” he tilts his head and shows the way with his hand.

The Mandalorian nods and you all walk to the city.

“I don’t think I’ve had the honour yet,” the man says, turning his head to you. “Grief Karga, I am one of Mando’s dear friends.”

Friends? You did not expect the Mandalorian to have a friend given his hostile demeanor. Moreover, the plural indicates he has more than one. Who would have thought.

“I wouldn’t go that far,” a grunt comes from under the bescar mask.

Karga lets out an amused chuckle, “Of course I am.”

You give Karga your name in return, smile a little, and shake his hand.

His face expression suggests he’s expecting you to elaborate and tell him more about yourself or your relationship with the Mandalorian but you just silently blink at him. You are not even sure what your reply should be. What are you to the Mandalorian? His passenger? Probably. But you do not intend to share more about the circumstances that made you into one or your destination for that matter. Fortunately, he doesn’t ask more questions when you don’t provide the information.

“Hope he has been treating you nicely,” Karga continues after a couple of moments.

“You mean this?” you ask, pointing at your bruised face which he’s clearly referring to. Thanks to the ointment the Mandalorian gave you, it is now looking significantly less painful than it did yesterday but it’s still undeniable that someone has whacked you pretty hard. “Would be much worse, if it wasn’t for him.”

The Mandalorian turns his look to you for a brief moment almost as if surprised to hear you actually admit he saved your pitiful ass from the bandits.

Yesterday you told him some nasty things and blamed him for your friend’s death but the fire and rage are now gone and you feel like yourself again—like a rational person who knows the Mandalorian was right about him being the reason why you are still alive now.

“Is that right?,” Karga says and looks at the Mandalorian, his eyebrows raised. “You have to tell me all about it someday but right now I’d like to talk to Mando here alone for a moment if you don’t mind. Why don’t you look around the city in the meantime? You have to try Murr’s sandwiches. He has a stand just down this street. Tell him, I sent you.”

“O-Okay,” you smile hesitantly at Karga and turn to the Mandalorian. “How do I find you?”

“I’ll find you. Don’t leave the city,” he says.

You don’t like this solution very much.

He does not wait for your consent though and before you can come up with a response, both men disappear in the crowd, leaving you on your own in the foreign city.

Well, if he leaves you here, at least he has decided to do so on an inhabited planet, right?

“Okay, you can do this,” you try to reassure yourself as you walk towards the marketplace. You have never visited a foreign planet in your adult life and already feel lost and out of place. “You can do this.”

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

“I didn’t think you’d be the type to bring a date along with you,” Karga says when they arrive at his office. “But good for you, my friend, she seems—”

“The deal’s off,” the Mandalorian is fed up with the chit chat.

“Wait ... What? Why?”

“How many tracking fobs did you give away this time?”

“Only one. To you.”

The Mandalorian sighs, puts hands on his hips and shakes his head. “The deal’s off,” he repeats resolutely.

“Come on, Mando. Talk to me. What happened? Have you found the quarry?”

“Yes.”

“Well? Where are they?”

The Mandalorian sits down on one of the chairs, leans back with a relieved sigh and puts his legs on Karga’s desk, crossing them. “You’ve just sent her to buy a sandwich,” he says bluntly.

“What? Her? Fuck, Mando!” Karga starts panicking while his armour-clad friend remains stoic and lazily folds his arms behind his head. “What the … I told you the quarry might be dangerous. Why isn’t she in carbonite or in binders?”

“She’s not dangerous. I know for a fact that she has never held a weapon in her hand.”

“That doesn’t mean—”

“It can’t be her,” the Mandalorian growls.

“How can you be so sure? What do you actually know about her?”

The Mandalorian takes a second to think. “I watched her, saw her with the villagers … her friend … she’s no killer.”

“She might not be a killer herself, but she’s the reason people are dead—.”

“She’s a fucking farmer ...,” the Mandalorian finally erupts and both men stare at each other in complete silence for a few seconds.

“Why did you bring her here, then?” Sensing the growing tension—Karga decides not to push the heavily armed men in his office any further. "Wouldn’t it be safer to leave her on her planet and say you haven't found her?”

“Things got … complicated,” comes from under the metal helmet glumly.

“Not again …”

“This wasn’t a regular job for the guild and you know it. I agreed to do it as a favour to you,” the Mandalorian reproves.

“I know and I didn't mean to sound ungrateful … Let’s assume you are right. What is your plan now?”

Taking his boots off the desk and bending over to rest his elbows on his things, the Mandalorian contemplates his reply for a beat, knowing damn well he might regret his decision. “I’m not turning her in. You can tell your friend on Carajam they hunt the wrong person. She’s not an informant for the Empire … or whatever’s left of it.”

Karga sighs deeply. “Okay, I’ll think of something … By the way, why did you ask whether I gave away more tracking fobs?”

“Someone attacked us. I think they were tracking her too.”

“Then you know they won’t stop looking for her.”

“Probably.”

“So what are you going to do?”

”Not sure yet. She wants me to take her to her parents—to Hoth.”

“Mind to elaborate?”

“That’s all I know, she only cares about getting to her parents. However … I do have a feeling she might be hiding something.”

“Told you …”

“Having a problematic relationship with your parents doesn’t necessarily mean you’re a threat to society.” The Mandalorian leans back again and fidgets with his gloved fingers unconsciously.

“Hoth, you say?” Karga places his index finger against his lips, thinking. “Tell you what … get her to Hoth, see what you find there, help her find her parents, find out as much as you can about her and then you can decide whether you’ll turn her in or let her go. I won’t question your decision then and will deal with Rungrell.”

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

You walk through the marketplace. Never have you been to such a city. The only place comparable to this one was the fishing town on your planet that you visited several times when you joined the men who ventured there to buy some new tools and equipment for farming. It wasn’t as lively though. There are various vendors selling food and gadgets you have never seen in your life, and you feel like stopping at each and every one of them to find out whether their goods could be of any use to you.

You haven’t bought anything so far other than the sandwich Karga has recommended to you. The vendor was a nice elderly Cerean called Murr who—having heard about who sent you—gave you the most expensive sandwich he had for free. Karga was right, it was delicious. The last food you ate was what the Mandalorian gave you several hours ago. It was some processed food that no doubt was nutritious, but far from tasteful.

It’s been nearly two hours since the Mandalorian left you in the city all by yourself and you are wondering whether he will ever come back for you.

What will you do if he doesn’t? Will you be able to find someone else on this planet who would give you a ride to Hoth? Maybe you could ask Karga, he seemed nice and trustworthy enough—and apparently has connections around here—maybe he would be able to help. Yes, that is what you would do. You don’t have much credits but you could find a job here, work for a couple of months and then pay someone with a ship. You will not give up on your quest to find your parents, that’s for sure.

Despite having an emergency plan, you cannot help but feel a bit sad and disappointed about the possibility of the Mandalorian leaving you behind without even saying goodbye. Sure, he has no responsibility towards you and was right when he said that he didn’t agree to take you to Hoth. Still, you wish … you want to spot him leaning against one of the sales stands or the buildings on either side of the street so you eagerly keep looking around hoping to set your eyes on the familiar man in shiny armour. If nothing, you should at least thank him.

You stop at the stand that displays and sells all sorts of trinkets and lucky charms, of which most look like useless junk. You do not even pay attention to any of the items—being too lost in your thoughts when you hear a modulated voice—almost a raspy whisper—coming from behind your ear. “You’d better buy a pair of good boots and some warm clothes instead of browsing through trash …“

The Mandalorian is standing behind you, leaning over your shoulder to look at the counter in front of you.

You sigh at the familiar sound, smile in relief and turn to face him.

“... Unless you want to freeze to death, that is …” he finishes, his visor now trained down at you.

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” You try to hide the fact that his proximity still gives you the chills with a light teasing tone.

“Nothing,” the beskar-clad gunslinger says, not moving a muscle to give you more space, ”but I thought you wanted to go to Hoth … and Hoth is an icy planet.”

“Oh,” you squeak, dumbfounded, “I didn’t know.” Really. It did not occur to you that Hoth might have a different climate than the one you are used to. Sometimes your naivety surprises even yourself. You have never seen snow. There were winters on your part of the planet but they were rather mild and dry. It never snowed there. “Where should I … Can I get anything that I need here?”

“I think I might know a place.” He turns swiftly and strides across the marketplace to a shop in one of the dark alleys.

“So you’re gonna take me to Hoth then,” you breathe out, trying to keep up with his pace.

“Do I have a choice?” He doesn’t sound particularly happy about it but he isn’t angry either.

That’s a pleasant turn of events, you think.

“Well, you could have left me here. In fact, I thought you would.”

“I come to Nevarro quite often, meaning every time I’d be here, you wouldn’t stop bothering me about taking you to Hoth.”

“That’s probably correct,” you laugh softly but still can't get rid of the feeling that there’s more to it than he lets out.

It seems that this shop sells anything one can think of. You can see all sorts of tools, spare droid parts, small machinery, devices and even second-hand armours. Apparently, the Mandalorian is a regular customer here, judging by the friendly yet respectful way the owner greets him.

The vendor needs to go through almost everything she has in stock but finally manages to find what you need and sells you a warm light blue jacket, boots, woollen hat and a pair of mittens.

“I guess I should buy some food for the trip too,” you turn to the Mandalorian, holding the last credits you have in your open palm when you leave the shop. The garments cost you more than a half of your credits but you don’t want to live off of the Mandalorian’s supplies so you just hope what you have will be enough.

“I already took care of that. Let’s go,” he utters.

“But …”

He senses your objection. “You said your parents were rich, didn’t you? You can pay me later.”

So, is this his motivation for helping you? Credits? He didn’t seem interested when you tried to buy him the first time, telling him your parents were rich.

“Okay.” You try to supress the thought of what his reaction will be when he finds out you were lying to him.

It’s a strange feeling��walking a couple of steps behind the Mandalorian, accompanying him to his ship and seeing all the people in the streets trying to get out of his way as soon as they set eyes on him. You wonder whether it is the armour and mystery of a masked assassin or whether they actually had the chance to witness what he’s capable of. It’s like they know that he can be a lot of trouble when messed with and for some reason, being part of his crew now and getting the same respect as he does emboldens you. It seems like they fear you too, just because you are with him. You secretly wish you had this kind of vibe when the bandits came to your village.

You make a couple of quick steps to catch up with him. “I heard Karga calling you Mando ...” You try to initiate a small talk despite knowing that the Mandalorian isn’t a talkative type per se. “Is that a name I can use to call you too since you’ve not given me your real one?”

In fact, you do not even expect him to give you his name. During the couple of days you have spent in his presence, you learnt he prefers not giving up too much about himself so the simple hm that you get from him as an answer is enough for you to continue. “So Mando, have you ever been to Hoth before?”

“No,” he says shortly.

“Neither have I. Well, you already know that …” Idiot, you scold yourself for making such a stupid comment. “Overall, I haven’t been to many planets in my life.” For an unknown reason, you progressively get more and more nervous.

“I figured.”

Of course he did. How could he not …

“You travel a lot?”

“My job requires it.”

“What’s the nicest—”

“What are your parents doing on Hoth?” he cuts you off unexpectedly.

You practised the answer to this question when you were on your own in the marketplace today as you had a hunch it might come up sooner or later. “Um, my father was a pilot, he served in the Rebel Alliance.” You can’t lie, yet you have done it several times now with Mando, hoping he can’t see through it. “My parents left me on my mother’s home planet to make sure I’m safe. That was fifteen years ago. I was told there is a Rebel base on Hoth, my parents should be there.” Okay this part was true.

“Why now?”

“Hm?” You look at him puzzled.

“Why have you decided to look for them now?” he clarifies.

Is he going somewhere with all these questions or is he just genuinely interested.

“I learnt their location only after Zulu died. She wanted me to reunite with them. I just wish to see them again, that’s all.”

The Mandalorian stops in his tracks and looks at you, his head slightly tilted to the side in suspicion. You have no idea what is going through his head, however, you are glad he doesn’t ask any more questions for now and continues walking after a beat.

“You’re good to go,” the Morseerian mechanic announces when you get to the ship.

“Thank you,” Mando replies simply.

Wow, apparently he can be polite when he wants to.

You help him load the supplies and prepare for take off.

“Here,” Mando comes to you when you put down the last crate, holding a package in his hands, offering it to you.

It’s …

“A towel?” You blink at him with wide eyes.

Well, that’s a surprise.

“You mentioned, you didn’t have time to pack.”

“No … I mean yeah. Um, thank you.”

If someone had asked you a day ago what your opinion of the silent, always grumpy Mandalorian was, you would have probably said he was an uncivilized jerk and you regretted ever setting foot on his damn ship. But now … he gave you a towel—such a small, meaningless gesture and yet you can’t help but smile at him with gratitude.

He climbs up to the cockpit without a word, leaving you in the cargo hold still staring at the piece of fabric in your hands—perplexed.

When you eventually join him, he’s already pressing some buttons and typing coordinates, getting reading to take off.

“Buckle u—” he turns to you only to see that you are already seated and have fastened your seat belt.

“I'm a quick learner,” you smirk.

You cannot see his expression but you’re quite sure he’s smiling now, judging by the little puff he makes—almost resembling a gentle chuckle—before he turns back to the control panel and takes off.

***

Previous Chapter // Masterlist

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fan fiction #pedro pascal #din djarin

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followtheowls · 4 years

Note

Kids throw Kanera surprise date night

Thanks for the prompt :)

I actually really love this prompt because it reminded me of a Tik Tok I recently watched lol and that inspired the path I took this fic. Re-reading it through after writing it, Sabine and Ezra do kinda seem childish, but roll with it because the concept is super cute.

Also it’s kinda fitting a prompt with Valentine’s day coming up.

I imagine it’s set somewhere in the second half of season one.

Words: 2.5k

…….

Ezra sank heavily into the Dejarik booth in the gallery, his eyes tracking the game currently being played between Sabine and Chopper. Sabine was staring intently at the holo-pieces in front of her and didn’t even look up when he sat down. The sounds of Hera and Kanans argument rang down the hall. It didn’t sound like anything too serious, but it was definitely strange to see the couple arguing - it wasn’t something Ezra had witnessed before that day. Despite just having sat down, Ezra fidgeted nervously, the fact that his Captain and his Master were arguing made him feel on edge.

He’d only been on the Ghost for a few months, but Ezra had gotten used to the lifestyle of his new living situation. He never went to bed hungry, the Ghost had heating, and he had access to regular showers with hot water. The best part of it all was the place he had found for himself in their little family on the Ghost. Ezra jumped, startled out of his thoughts as a particularly loud “Kanan!” echoed down the hall and into the gallery. His frown deepened. He knew how these things went - the two leaders of a group fight and the group ends up splitting up because the rest are forced to take sides. Ezra had seen it before on the streets with gangs of other Loth rats. Another pang of unhappiness rang through him. He’d just gotten used to being onboard and he was finally happy - happier than he had remembered being in a long time - why did things have to go wrong now?

“You okay, kid?” Ezra looked over to Sabine, who had been distracted from her intense game of Dejarik, and was staring at Ezra in mild concern. “You kinda look like you’re freaking out about something.”

Ezra rolled his eyes in annoyance at her usage of the nickname kid (Sabine was barely two years older than him!), and forced a smile. “I’m not freaking out about anything! It’s just, well,” Ezra floundered, struggling to come up with the right way to phrase his concern without revealing too much. “Uh, have they ever fought like this before?” Ezra finished timidly.

“Who? Oh, wait, do you mean Kanan and Hera? Do they fight? Is that what you’re worried about?” She clarified, inquisitively. At Ezra’s nod she continued, “Don’t think too much about it; they argue every once in a while. They get over it eventually, I think some people call it a, uh, lovers quarrel?” She snickered and Chopper emitted a loud beep of laughter. “They just need some time together that's not about missions or supply runs or anything too serious.”

Ezra visibly relaxed at Sabine’s words. “Oh. I guess that makes sense.” His eyes clouded as a thoughtful expression appeared on his face.

“Uh, oh,” Sabine chuckled. “What are you up to?”

Ezra’s face broke into a large grin. “I have an idea,” he started, “and you can help.”

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

“Come on, let’s get the supplies inside,” Hera ordered, while shifting her grip on the package in her hands. “I wonder what the kids have gotten up to while we were out.”

Kanan huffed. “Probably nothing good,” he muttered. “I don’t know how they get into the situations they do. Force only knows how they survived before we came along.”

Hera smirked and playfully retorted, while poking him in the shoulder. “Some might say they get their troublesome streak from you.”

Kanan chuckled dryly and rolled his eyes. “Well, I guess I’d have to disagree with you there, Captain Rebel. I’d say they take after you and your wild antics.”

Hera playfully turned her nose upwards feigning an air of innocence. “I have no idea what you’re referring to Mister I-like-to-jump-out-the-Phantom-midflight-and-have-my-apprentice-follow-my-lead.”

Kanan just snorted humorously in response while making his way up the ramp of the Ghost. They both set down their crates in the cargo bay and looked up to see the twin Cheshire grins aimed at them from the two youngest members of the crew. The older Jedi and the pilot exchanged wary glances with each other. “What have you two done?” Hera asked with a brow raised and a tone that indicated a fair amount of suspicion.

“Oh, nothing to worry about,” Sabine replied, sporting a cheeky smile, while Ezra beside her was seemingly vibrating with excitement. “Just a few decorations, why don’t you come see.” Ezra nodded enthusiastically, and giggled while racing up the ladder before the rest of them.

Kanan and Hera exchanged another glance, both sporting cautious smiles, before following the two teens up the ladder and Sabine ushered them into the gallery. What greeted them was a scene that they never would have predicted. The gallery was decorated in a romantic fashion - Hera assumed this was mostly Sabine’s doing. There were two sets of silverware and glasses on the Dejarik table and a bunch of lit candles in various parts of the room. There were also decorative hearts and flowers made of flimsi strewn throughout the room.

Once again, the couple stared at each other, this time bewildered instead of suspicious. Whatever they were expecting, this was not it. Ezra returned again with what looked like a thick piece of fabric or ribbon tied around his collar like a bow tie. He giggled again and started to lead Hera to her seat while Sabine pushed Kanan towards the opposite seat. “Kids - what? What is this?” Hera questioned.

Sabine replied with an everlasting grin. “Welcome to date night on the Ghost, we will be your hosts for the evening! Thank you for choosing us, please settle in and get comfortable. My colleague Ezra will take it from here!” And at that she disappeared out the door, heading in the direction of the kitchen. Ezra stepped forward with two pieces of flimsi that he placed in front of the seated couple.

“Here is the menu,” Ezra said playfully, putting on a posh accent. “Let me know if there's any questions! First off, what would the both of you like to drink?”

Kanan’s eyes crinkled with amusement and affection and a smile tugged at his lips. “We’ll take some water, and I don’t know… Hmm…” He said, playing along. “How about you surprise us? Sounds good, Hera?”

Hera hid her smile with her hand. “Of course, love. Surprise us with your best drink.” Ezra nodded vigorously, and made a big show of writing something down on a notepad. He then bounded off in the same direction Sabine disappeared to, but not before bowing in an exaggeratedly.

The couple turned back to face one another and there was silence for several moments until Hera exclaimed, “Oh. My. Goodness. This has to be the most adorable thing they’ve ever done!” She tried to make sure her laughter was not too loud or giving the kids the wrong idea. Kanan echoed her reaction, his shoulders shaking with his suppressed chuckles.

“Let’s see what menu they’ve worked up for us in the meantime,” Kanan proposed, still sporting an amused grin. “By the way,” Kanan leaned in to whisper to her, “did you see his little bow-tie?” Hera hummed and nodded, her attention diverted to the menu.

The menu itself was handwritten (presumably by Ezra if the handwriting and spelling were any kind of indicator) and was comically short, provoking another round of amusement from the two. There, apparently, was going to be three courses. The first course was, hilariously, a choice between the four different flavors of ration bars they had on ship. The second course was a selection between the two different types of canned soups they had one board far back in the pantry. The dessert section announced it would be a chefs special, but didn’t list the item.

After only moments of deliberation, the two had made their selections, just in time for the return of the ‘waitstaff’. Giggling, Ezra stepped forward holding two glasses of water, in his excitement a little sloshed over the side. He set them down in front of the pair, and stepped out of the way while Sabine brought over two champagne flutes filled with a sparkling pinkish-purple beverage.

“Ooh,” Hera commented, “What’s this pretty drink?”

The kids met each other's gaze, and Sabine replied, “It’s our signature drink, we call it ‘the Sparkling Spectre’.” Ezra giggled and clapped his hands. “It’s really just meiloorun and jogan juice mixed with Alderaanian champagne.”

Now that made Hera strike a serious face and she opened her mouth to inquire for further explanation. “And, how, may I ask, did you acquire the champagne?” She doubted they had gotten it themselves, no vendor would believe either of them to be over the legal age.

Breaking character for a moment, Ezra explained Zeb had generously offered up the bottle, which he had received as a gift a while ago, claiming it to be too bubbly for his liking. At that response, Hera relaxed.

“Well, I will leave you with my colleague, as I must be returning to my kitchen.”

Ezra stepped forward, again putting on a posh accent and asked if they were ready to place their order. They responded affirmatively, and relayed their orders to him. “Very well, I will inform the kitchen,” Ezra confirmed. “Before I go, are your beverages to your liking?” The both of them sipped their drink and responded affirmatively.

Kanan and Hera watched, not quite suppressing their amusement, as Ezra scurried out of the room towards the kitchen to tell Sabine what they had ordered. On his way out, he passed Chopper, giving him a swift kick and ordering him to play the music Sabine had found. Chopper replied he would do no such thing, but remained in the room. Hera covered her smile with her hand and giggled. “I wonder what brought this on?” She asked Kanan. He just smiled and shrugged his shoulders.

“Eh, I can never tell with that kid. It sure is funny though - and nice to not have to have to organize dinner, even if the dinner’s going to be ration bars and canned soup.” Kanan replied, his eyes twinkling in amusement.

Chopper once again made his presence known with a loud string of beeps. “Baby Jedi’s scared that Mom’s gonna break up with you, so he and Spectre 5 are making a date to offset that outcome.” Kanan and Hera looked at each other in bewilderment, both of them clearly wondering where Ezra got that idea from.

“Well, obviously that’s not true. I wonder where he got that idea from?” Hera contemplated for a moment before realization dawned on her face.“He must’ve been spooked by how we were arguing earlier. We’ll clear it up - he’ll be fine. You hear that Chop? No one’s breaking up with anyone!”

Chopper responded with a curse, and fled the room whooping with laughter, but not before beeping “A droid can only dream!” at Kanan, who rolled his eyes.

Several minutes of pleasant conversation followed until their youngest crew member returned with a tray in his hand. “For you, Madame, and for you, Master Jedi.” He placed the ration bars in front of them, and backed away heading towards the kitchen.

----------

Around thirty minutes of warm and pleasant conversation and two courses later, the Twi’lek and Jedi had finished both their ration bars and soup. “Delicious, Ezra,” Hera praised, purposefully holding Kanan’s hand in a visible manner; she wanted to try to ease his worries about the couple. “We loved it!”

“You did good, kid,” Kanan smiled at him, picking up on Hera’s intentions. “It’s been an excellent date.” His body language was relaxed in a way Hera hadn’t seen in a while, he’d had a tenseness to him ever since he began to teach Ezra the ways of the Force; it was almost as if he struggled to relax lately and sometimes the evidence of the heaviness of his past weighed down on him. But, right now, Kanan was grinning happily while looking at his student, his eyes twinkling in a prideful expression that Hera noticed was often inching everyday towards paternal.

Ezra beamed in response. “That’s great, and there’s still the last course!” He took away their finished soup bowls, headed back towards the kitchen. From the gallery, they could hear Ezra relay their compliments of the meal to Sabine and, seconds later, the cheering and slapping sound which presumably was a high five. The couple now also heard the addition of a new voice echoing down the hall - Zeb. They were thankful to hear his voice, as neither teenager had any cooking skills.

Dessert finally arrived along with the rest of the crew, this time Zeb finally making an appearance. He presented them with their dessert - a stack of fresh waffles with slices of meiloorun and whipped cream - it was clearly made by Zeb as he was the only one with the necessary skills to make it.

Hera gasped with appreciation, clapping her hands together in praise. “Wow, this looks amazing everybody! I can’t wait to try it. While you're all here, we just want to say how much we appreciate this. We love it and we love our little family here on the Ghost.” Spectres 4, 5, and 6 smiled back at them, and Hera gracefully chose not to comment if Ezra’s eyes happened to glisen more than normal. “You all are so important to us, really!”

Zeb laughed and scratched the back of his neck. “Eh, that’s enough sappiness for me, I’m going to go clean the mess they left in the kitchen.” He backed, away leaving the kids with the parental figures of the ship.

“Hera’s right,” Kanan continued. “We couldn’t have asked for a better family, kids who care enough to organize a whole dinner for the two of us. We love it and wouldn’t change it for anything in the galaxy.” His words clearly resonated with the two teenagers, both coming from sensitive familial backgrounds. He opened his arms, inviting them both in for a hug, which Ezra practically melted into. To his left, Sabine was hugging Hera.

“Why don’t the both of you stay while we eat dinner, hmm?” Hera asked, reaching across the table to grasp Ezra’s hand. The two teens nodded and settled in beside the adults who began to dig into their dessert. They chatted joyfully with the young teens, enjoying the leisure time. Kanan wrapped an arm around Ezra’s shoulders, and the teen eventually leaned his head against Kanan’s arm. For what felt like the thousandth time that day, Kanan’s heart fluttered with affection and gratefulness for the family he and Hera had built, and the home they have been able to provide for the younger members of the crew, both of whom were products of difficult living situations. Kanan met Hera’s eyes for a brief moment and knew she was appreciating the same thing. Together, they basked in the intense sense of pride for the thoughtfulness and creativity of their younger counterparts, knowing that their family, in that moment, was untouchable by those of the Empire who wished to break them.

#swr #star wars rebels #ezra bridger #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #sabine wren #zeb orrelios #kanera #anon #send me a prompt if you’d like :)

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inventors-fair · 4 years

Text

Kald’ve, Would’ve, Should’ve (and Finally Did) Commentary

No no, of course I didn’t forget, you forgot. And I couldn’t blame you if you did, it’s been some time coming. Commentary may be a special action, but it obviously still uses the stack - and as it gets stacked under more and more things, it can take a while to see it resolved. While I can’t promise the next one is going to have split second timing, I’m definitely going to be adjusting my schedule to make getting things out on time more manageable.

This challenge revisited what I started with the release of Zendikar Rising, albeit with a slightly looser approach, and I definitely enjoyed the increased diversity that I saw in submissions because of it. I think it’ll take a couple more of these before I'm able to mould my prompt to hit exactly the kind of results I’m looking for, so I doubly appreciate everyone participating in my little mad science design experiments in the meantime.

That said, let’s not keep you waiting...

@bread-into-toast - Halvar, God of Battle // Sword of the Realms

Flavour: This was a direct cleanup of a card that was already in the set, so there wasn’t a lot of flavour to credit you with specifically. There is new flavour text on the front face (which wasn’t an option on the printed version thanks to the MDFC frame treatment) that I suppose gives us slightly more insight into Halvar’s personality.

Mechanics: The front face has one minor change to the timing of the combat ability that does succeed in making it objectively more powerful, but probably does not make for more interesting gameplay overall - it pushes more of the combat math onto your opponents, essentially reducing the decisions you make to “what punishes these blocks the most.” The back face has a more significant change, trading out the original’s recursion ability for an ability that I assume is supposed to better represent the Omenpaths flavourfully, since it’s certainly not a core white effect. In practice I have to imagine the recursion ability plays more nicely with the equipment theme than a ramp effect does.

Nitpicks/Templating: The front face trigger would read “At the beginning of the declare blockers step each combat,” which is admittedly confusing because “beginning” implies that it’s before blockers even though it wouldn’t be - the awkwardness of the template is probably a reason we don’t see it more often. The ability on the rear face would want to specify where you’re casting the spell from like Sram’s Expertise does, otherwise you’re leaving it up to players to guess which spells it’s allowing them to play, and they’ll often guess wrong.

Overall: Shop the art all you want, I still think he’s as handsome as ever.

Charmera - Imyir, God of Tracking // Bow of Freedom

Flavour: I feel like I might be a little sketchy on the flavour for this one, but I believe the idea is that Imyir was fated to track “the Wolf” but never catch it, and had to break free of that fate in order to finally succeed. That definitely sounds like a neat concept, and I think you could’ve been even a little more explicit in delivering on it to really drive that story home - though I suppose this does already have more space devoted to flavour text than any of the Gods that did see print.

Mechanics: The ability on the front face is very powerful, I suspect the fact that the draws are temporary is a relatively small downside compared to the ability to chain card draw by hitting creatures one after another. The back face is... Well, I’ll be honest that I don’t know what you intended it to do. Indeed, both sides are exiling cards from your library face down, meaning you have no idea what they are, but allowing you to cast them. Is it supposed to be casting one at random? Did you forget to include the part where you look at the cards? That confusion aside, the 7-mana legendary artifact that mills you for 10 every turn (but explicitly hoses any graveyard synergies) doesn’t sound particularly exciting, though I guess if the effect isn’t intended to be random the free cast would be quite powerful. But just imagine casting this in multiplayer and milling yourself for 50 cards just to get to cast one for free - the ratio doesn’t seem appealing.

Nitpicks/Templating: If you want players to know what’s under their face down exiled cards, you’ve got to include a “look at” line. If a player was able to look at it once they’ll be able to look at it as often as they like for as long as it remains exiled, but that first look has to happen explicitly. Also: 8 lines of text does not have room for flavour text.

Overall: I just hope the Wolf made it out okay.

@col-seaker-of-the-memiest-legion - Scythed Whirlwind

Flavour: Embittered with time is definitely right up Egon’s alley, though the card name and the other aspects of the flavour don’t feel like they resonate particularly strongly with me. If there’s a way the flavour is supposed to lend itself to the mechanics, I’m not immediately seeing it.

Mechanics: You mentioned in your submission that you intended this to be a “skill-testing” board wipe, but I’m struggling to imagine what skill this would be testing. This is obviously just a board wipe in the vast majority of board states, though obviously it does - somewhat - encourage you to play creatures with equipments, but in practice this is still just going into (near-)creatureless decks.

Nitpicks/Templating: Targets are chosen as part of casting a spell, so they can’t be conditional like this. You’d want the spell to be modal, as you won’t be obligated to select targets for the mode you didn’t choose.

Overall: Maybe it’s just me, but the name conjures images of kamaitachi more than anything out of Norse mythology. But I’m also not an expert.

@corporalotherbear - Explore the Realms

Flavour: You acknowledged that flavour was your focus with this one, with the flavour text here hinting at an upcoming Phyrexian corruption of the ten realms. That makes some sense in the context of Vorinclex’s unexplained appearance, and indeed may wind up being something Kaldheim has to deal with in the future.

Mechanics: An Explore variant that lets you drop two lands instead of one, albeit for one extra mana. Ramping by two is a lot more powerful than ramping by one, but the requirement of having two lands available makes this a little less consistent. Generally speaking, cards with high power level and high variance tend to lead to unsatisfying play patterns, so I’d be nervous about the games where this does succeed in ramping from 3 to 6, even if it does so unreliably.

Nitpicks/Templating: Most quotations in flavour text are credited to someone, and while it’s not strictly necessary in a case like this, I think it would go a ways to helping deliver on the flavour.

Overall: Ten realms is an upgrade over nine hells, I guess.

---

@deg99 - Nith, Root Gnawer

Flavour: Your goal was to deliver on more dragons, and this kinda does that. I’ll admit that I’m lost on why it’s also a Troll, as those are completely separate species and it doesn’t appear to be an obvious crossbreed of the two. It’s not immediately obvious what the lands in graveyard clause is supposed to represent flavourfully, but if Gadrak is any indication that isn’t really necessary.

Mechanics: What stands out most here is - obviously - the repeatable land destruction. Against anything but the rampiest of decks, if you have this on the battlefield by turn six it is very unlikely for any opponent to recover from blowing up a land and creating a large token every turn. The fact that it’s unable to attack early really doesn’t feel relevant, because it’ll rarely be attacking late either - the upside of denying your opponent resources while expanding your board is almost always just much better than 5 damage.

Nitpicks/Templating: Templating favours common contractions, so it’s “can’t attack,” and (for whatever reason) only subtypes are ever capitalised: “4/4 green Troll Warrior creature token with trample.”

Overall: Repeatable land destruction is certainly a trollish thing to do, I’ll give you that.

@demimonde-semigoddess - Huatli, Guiding Hand

Flavour: Huatli on Kaldheim is a curious inclusion, feeling even more out-of-place than the existing non-native planeswalkers - of course this isn’t exactly a bad thing, as planeswalkers aren’t really supposed to blend in anyway.

Mechanics: The interplay between the three abilities here seems reasonable enough, the downtick creating tokens that trigger the first ability, and the uptick allowing them to trigger it on both attacks and blocks. It’s a little unexpected that both ways of triggering the ability are inherently aggressive (the block trigger only succeeds in tapping down blockers for the next turn), and cute that the otherwise unique tribal effect works with changelings in the set. It’s a little hard to gauge the overall power of three-mana planeswalkers as there’s often a thin line between unimpressive and broken so I won’t pretend to know how powerful this is just by looking, though I imagine the difficulty of blocking against it would give creature decks lots of trouble.

Nitpicks/Templating: You likely know the creature type in the first ability should be capitalised, and abilities with multiple targets read “each get” for the sake of clarity.

Overall: Is it the dinos that her hand is guiding, or something else?

@dimestoretajic - Calix, the Hidden

Flavour: This is an unexpected take on Calix, taking on a rather different appearance presumably as a disguise. It’s not immediately clear to me what he’d be hiding from, but the reference to Kratos is cute even if it’s ultimately confusing.

Mechanics: Always hard to evaluate planeswalkers without the benefit of iteration, but the abilities seem roughly in Calix’s wheelhouse. The first ability is a scry that upgrades to a draw if it hits an enchantment, probably reasonable enough at three mana; the downtick lets you trade him in immediately for a Stasis Snare effect; and the ultimate gives you a bunch of free Sagas. I think the idea of Calix interacting with Sagas is a little cute, though he definitely had that opportunity on Theros and didn’t so it might have been best to do it a little more subtly.

Nitpicks/Templating: The first ability feels like it has a lot of decision points for digital; I’d consider just revealing in the first place to save some clicks. The second ability is probably much wordier than it should be; I don’t think you gain much by naming the token (or by making it green), and the exile effect should probably just look closer to original Calix’s downtick. Be careful with so many wordy abilities on one planeswalker; I understand the desire to be clever, but ironically being elegant is even cleverer than being clever.

Overall: I’m down for Calix with a beard.

@driftingthruthecosmos - Immortal Triumph

Flavour: This appears to be playing into the trope space of Valhalla, letting your permanents ascend to the beyond only to return for a prophetic final battle. I think the art is an actual depiction of Valhalla, and the name generally signals toward the same concepts without actually embracing Kaldheim’s application of the same trope space, “the Worthy.”

Mechanics: This card definitely doesn’t work as written, but I prefer to judge design on the design’s merit’s, so I’ll do my best to work out how you expected it to work. The fact that this hits any nonland permanent makes it quite versatile, allowing it to return the same permanent turn after turn which can be difficult to overcome - even something as innocuous as Omen of the Sun can be pretty overbearing being recurred turn after turn with relatively little room for counterplay.

Nitpicks/Templating: The first ability leaves a few unintuitive holes where permanents can be lost despite the replacement effect. The second one appears to grant foretell (and a foretell cost) to a card it just put in your hand, which isn’t logistically feasible since your hand is a hidden zone. I’m not sure why the ability didn’t just turn the chosen card face down and make it foretold a la Ethereal Valkyrie.

Overall: I think my biggest wish for this one would be that the ‘glory’ was actually something you had to earn, rather than being totally universal.

@evscfa1 - Mistlebranche, Cosmic Prank

Flavour: The core idea of a weapon based on mistletoe deriving from the story of Baldr is really sweet, though some of the aspects of this design seem to stray a bit from that core concept. Most significantly the decision to make it a snow permanent with a snow equip cost seems rather unexpected.

Mechanics: Not to sound like a broken record, but the snow equip cost is what catches my eye the most: it makes the design very narrow, being completely useless without two snow sources plus a creature to put it on. Once it’s equipped, deathtouch and menace means that any creature this goes on will immediately be trading 2-for-1, making it really difficult to keep up with in any deck that’s able to produce tokens. Exiling planeswalkers too is a cute addition, and particularly powerful alongside making your creatures highly unprofitable to block.

Nitpicks/Templating: If you’re gonna make a weapon based explicitly on a plant, how did it end up anything but green? I imagine you designed the abilities first and chose the color to fit, but in this case I think the color was probably an important aspect of delivering on the concept and wasn’t a good place for compromise.

Overall: The name Mistlebranche sounds so elegant, though.

@fractured-infinity - Firja, First of the Valkyrie

Flavour: Reusing the Firja character with a new title. There’s enough about Firja elsewhere in the set to inform her character a bit, but that also means the title change can only do so much to change my perception of her.

Mechanics: The four life as a cost is pretty close to free here, but it does at least force you to adjust your play patterns to preserve your life total as you work up to it. In practice this is the kind of card you generally hold onto until you can guarantee some value from, and since we don’t see many Angels below three mana, this would often be waiting until eight to get played. That’s probably reasonable though, as once it does get going it tends to end games very, very quickly. This has the interesting upside of being less bad in multiples than most legendary creatures, as the second copy of this can still be cast to generate a token off the first.

Nitpicks/Templating: “First” in the name and each instance of “Angel” in the text ought to be capitalised, and life is always expressed with numerals: “4 life.”

Overall: Nice to see her growing out of that awkward Judge of Valor phase.

@hypexion - Kaya’s Gambit

Flavour: A play on the existing Divine Gambit design, with a couple minor tweaks. Interestingly, the flavour text comes very close to standing on its own - I didn’t remember the original’s, and yet it made some sense on its own (though perhaps it would’ve made less if I wasn’t aware of Divine Gambit already). The biggest miss is that the “gambit” part of the name makes virtually no sense with this design, as there’s no risk involved in using it.

Mechanics: Flexible if conditional removal. At worst it’s Disperse, at its best it’s just an exile effect. The biggest differences between this and the original are the open information and the (virtual) lack of a failure rate: with open information you’ll never be surprised by what your opponent gets back from this, and only returning the card to hand means that it’s rarely just not worth doing at all. This is clearly a more powerful version of the effect, but I’m not convinced it’s either more interesting nor a more appropriate power level.

Nitpicks/Templating: You probably want to use “with that permanent” instead of “with it”, as the text refers to multiple objects and they like to be as unambiguous as possible. I looked for examples that used “it,” but I didn’t immediately find any.

Overall: There are white cards, and then there are good cards.

@i-am-the-one-who-wololoes - Winter Travels

Flavour: The name definitely conveys both the concept and the mechanics reasonably well, and the flavour text itself is really evocative and has great imagery to it.

Mechanics: A mistake designers tend to make when designing for a known format is throwing multiple elements of that format onto the same card: when not done carefully, the result is a card that only works in a narrow intersection rather than being interesting in each archetype it makes use of. In this case, Snow archetypes make much better use of this than foretell archetypes, meaning this probably should’ve just accepted it was a Snow card and dropped foretell altogether.

Nitpicks/Templating: The template is unclear about whether the second condition - all snow mana - applies only when the spell is foretold or not, which is always going to be a problem with double-conditional cards. Also: this card had 9 lines of text before you put flavour text, it’s important to know when to make cuts.

Overall: Maybe I’ve read too much Robert Frost, but I really appreciate how poetic the concept here feels.

@ignorantturtlegaming - Elendriel, Twisted Prophet

Flavour: It’s not super clear to me who or what this is supposed to represent. The name and typing is enough to hint at a broad identity, but there’s a lot going on and not enough string to really tie it all together.

Mechanics: Like I mentioned for the submission above, throwing lots of a sets themes/mechanics onto a single card generally makes that card narrower and less exciting, rather than more exciting. In this case you’ve got a card relying heavily on foretell outside of the foretell archetype colors, unable to meaningfully contribute to its own colors’ archetype (Elves) without foretell, plus a boast ability that feels out of place both mechanically and conceptually...and also depends entirely on foretell.

Nitpicks/Templating: Flavour text was pretty important for the boast cards. While there were a couple rares that didn’t have room for it, notably the legendary ones both did because the flavour text was instrumental in selling the mechanic.

Overall: Elves > Foretell > Boast > ??? > Prophet!

@kavinika - Tjalfi, the Godly Messenger // Fjara, Doomskar Lookout

Flavour: Your submission took some time to explain the top-down basis for these two - a servant of Thor (Tjalfi) and one of the roosters of Ragnarok (Gullinkambi) - though obviously you’ve taken some slight liberties. The biggest issue with the flavour here is that it diverges from what the set establishes the Gods to look like - double-faced creatures with elements closely related to their divine duties on the reverse. With the set having only limited space to create and deliver on expectations, there probably just isn’t space to also subvert those expectations.

Mechanics: Mechanically, it’s awkward to have a red card that generates longterm card advantage, even if the condition for doing so is essentially a red thing. The two sides sort of push you in the same direction - lots of nontoken creatures - and the trigger on Fjara theoretically helps to reclaim Boast creatures that were lost trying to trigger the opposite side. The mana costs seem hard to pull off in the same deck, but I can at least see the play pattern it’s trying to encourage - though I can’t help but wish Fjara’s ability was a Boast ability, just to really help the card enable itself as most of the Gods do.

Nitpicks/Templating: Tjalfi’s triggered ability runs on a bit, it probably wants to be separated into two sentences: “ [...] of your library. You may reveal [...]” I’ll also a nitpick that if you’re going to base a character on something as unique as a rooster that crows at the end of the world, you probably want to make the connection as clear as possible - I don’t think anyone is going to make that connection here.

Overall: Maybe I’m just salty that I didn’t get the chicken version.

@kytheon4-4 - Gunnar the Breathless

Flavour: You made sure to include flavour text, which I think was really important to selling the Boast ability as it appeared on cards in the set. The specific flavour text you chose comes off as wordy, the story it tells is hard for me to parse (one can only imagine where they’d tucked the troll’s club away whilst hitching a ride), and doesn’t feel like it connects in any obvious way to the ability on the card. One of the fun aspects of Boast was how well they focused on creating stories to explain the specific ability on the card, but apart from maybe interpreting the troll’s lunch as life gain, I’m just not seeing that on this one.

Mechanics: You’re right that it would’ve been nice to have one of the Boast enablers show up at a lower rarity, though I’m suspecting that it probably didn’t for power level reasons - Boast is actually pretty powerful, and I wouldn’t be surprised if one of the rare enablers had started out at uncommon and gotten pushed to rare for being too impactful. I think it’s nice of you to try to make the ability broad enough to work outside of just Boast - there are a few things this breaks in older formats, but in Standard the scariest thing it can do is enable Kargan Intimidator or Subira, both of which are probably safe enough even with free abilities.

Nitpicks/Templating: All the templating stuff looks fine.

Overall: The irony of “the Breathless” holding a horn is not lost on me.

@masternexeon - Aggravated Berserker

Flavour: This card is a little light on flavour, which I’m normally just fine with, but in the context of Boast the flavour does a lot to bring the mechanic to life. It’s clever that the name is a throwback to Aggravated Assault, but I think a little more attention to detail could’ve helped it really pop.

Mechanics: Obviously this was really close to one of the winners, with the big difference being the Dwarf tribal element. Obviously I favoured the version that had a slightly broader appeal, but since Dwarf tribal was one of the themes of the set, there’s probably a version of this design that does both (extra combat for everyone plus a bonus for Dwarves) that I would’ve liked better than either.

Nitpicks/Templating: You’ll want to make sure to capitalise “Dwarves” in your rules text.

Overall: No spoilers, but this one almost seems designed with my next challenge in mind.

@misterstingyjack - Toralf and Valki Deceive the Giant King

Flavour: Boy howdy, that’s a name - I’m impressed that your renderer got it to fit. This is a top-down story about Thor disguising himself as his own mother in order to trick a giant that wishes to marry her into returning his hammer. The chapters of the Saga follow that pattern pretty precisely, letting you disguise one of your creatures and - over a couple turns - steal an artifact from an opponent. You might have considered swapping chapters 1 and 2, so that the destruction effect could represent the hammer going missing which prompted the whole endeavour. Indeed, then you could even move the mill effect into that ability, to represent the hammer being buried after it’s stolen.

Mechanics: Similarly, I think putting the destruction effect up front would’ve done this card some good. The copy effect is cute, but it’s not the most powerful effect on the card, and as written this is pretty easy to blank with a removal spell. I do really like the way the abilities intersect the colors - destroying an artifact or creature requires both colors, temporary copy effects from a graveyard feels both red and black, and recurring an artifact is something red can do that still feels pretty black.

Nitpicks/Templating: As much as I respect how ambitious the name was, I’m confident you had shorter options available.

Overall: It’s always lovely to see a top-down story that you enjoy getting represented as a card, nice choice.

@mtg-ds - Koll, Breath of the Bellows

Flavour: I definitely understand your frustration that there aren’t more smiths that do actual smithing in Magic, instead just encouraging you to build a deck that simulates their doing so. This correction for that is pretty straightforward, making axes and shields to equip to your army.

Mechanics: The low costs on this are going to lead to a lot of Equipment tokens on the battlefield at any given time - any time you have unspent mana you’re going to pour it into making tokens, especially since you can do so at instant speed. Combining that with the first ability reducing the Equip cost to zero, you’re going to have a mass of equipments shifting constantly from creature to creature, which just seems logistically difficult to keep track of.

Nitpicks/Templating: Everything looks right to me.

Overall: I have to assume stumpy Dwarven limbs are to blame for why they’re wearing shields on their shoulders rather than strapping them to their arms like the rest of us.

@naban-dean-of-irritation - Niko, the Defiant

Flavour: Niko was immediately a beloved character for a lot of us, so I can definitely understand wanting to reimagine that character more in line with your perception of them. It’s hard replacing the first iteration of a planeswalker because all the lore we have available is the card that exists and stories based on that card - so it’s just inherently difficult for me to see how these abilities relate to the character, since it’s essentially establishing a different character with the same name.

Mechanics: The most glaring issue is the fact that the first ability essentially gives haste on a WU card, which qualifies as either a very strange design choice or a pretty significant oversight. The third ability also feels like it’s skirting the color pie, presumably attempting an Omniscience impression that just feels out of place for this pair. The uptick and downtick feel like they’re designed to do pretty similar things, both primarily saving creatures from unfortunate blocks. I suspect the reason is that the ‘instant speed on your turn’ effect pushed the design into rather narrow space, where two abilities came out very similar while the third simply doesn’t really benefit from the instant speed.

Nitpicks/Templating: No obvious templating woes.

Overall: As much as I respect their defiance, defying the color pie is where I draw the line.

@nine-effing-hells - Fraenir, the Greed-Cursed

Flavour: I always enjoy top-down designs especially, and this story of a Dwarf hoarding treasures until they transform into a Dragon is such an excellent place to mine for those designs - and really, what set wouldn’t want more Dragons? The abilities themselves tell a story of murser and greed, even without needing flavour text to help it along.

Mechanics: I think my biggest issue with this design is that rather than the transformation being something you work towards or work to avoid, it is awkwardly positioned between the two - there are times the Dwarf Berserker will be larger by virtue of controlling lots of non-Treasure artifacts, making it unclear what the play pattern of the card actually is. It does have the benefit of being easy to avoid transforming when you don’t want to, but I think it would suit the design better to arrange the abilities to make the comparisons between the two states clearer (for example, giving the Dwarf non-combat abilities and saving the combat abilities for the Dragon half).

Nitpicks/Templating: Easy mistake, you missed the word “token” in the sacrifice trigger.

Overall: I’m really curious what the art for a card like this would look like.

@partlycloudy-partlyfuckoff - Pagan Chamberlain

Flavour: I have to assume the whole design was for a chance to use that flavour text, as the other aspects of the card don’t seem to align with Kaldheim as a setting - the world has no actual vampires, and the concept of a non-believer makes a lot less sense in a world where gods are as tangible as this one.

Mechanics: Similarly, this isn’t playing into any of the mechanical themes of the set; there isn’t even a strong monocolor theme to run counter to. I suspect the rationale is that each of the gods in the set are monocolor creatures, but seeing as there’s already a card in the set with protection from Gods, it seems strange to try to be subtler about it than that one.

Nitpicks/Templating: Nothing much to nitpick over.

Overall: In this set, the answer to that question is usually “an artifact.”

@real-aspen-hours - Ill Omen

Flavour: The name aligns well with the foretell mechanic, and the flavour text helps connect an important story beat to a broader narrative and to the flavour of the card itself. I’d be a little reticent about including such a significant spoiler in flavour text, but perhaps there’s a way to phrase it so that it reads like a prophecy until you find out it’s already happened.

Mechanics: This is effectively three-for-one removal, which is a lot of value for a single uncommon. Locking it to sorcery speed gives at least some incentive not to foretell it, as that delays it for a full turn - it won’t be often you cast it straight, but that I can at least imagine the situations is a plus. It’s especially powerful in that when it isn’t useful as a removal spell, it allows you redraws for something more useful.

Nitpicks/Templating: Foretell shows up after the spell effect, even for those cards that care whether they were foretold. While we’re here, good catch on including a target in the card draw effect - while it would be easy to exclude one, ensuring that the spell has two targets keeps the whole thing from fizzling if the targeted creature disappears before it resolves.

Overall: This feels like it’s only a slight push away from being constructed playable, and I’d be interested to explore what more it takes to get it there.

@snugz - Surtland Rimereader

Flavour: I rather like the flavour here, a Giant that’s able to see the future with the help of the snow allowing you a Future Sight effect specifically for snow cards is pretty satisfying. It’s not immediately obvious what the last ability represents, but the rest of the card feels like it sells it well enough anyway.

Mechanics: I’m not entirely sure that blue is still able to play lands off of this type of effect; the original obviously did, but none of the blue variations since then have, and I’m not sure ‘snow’ is a blue identity to bend for it. The triggered ability feels a little bit awkward with the overall design since you specifically don’t have much control over the first spell you cast when you’re doing so from the top of your deck.

Nitpicks/Templating: Good catch on the updated template for Future Sight, as I don’t think they’ve actually printed any cards with that wording yet. It was updated some time after Bolas’s Citadel was printed, and we’ve yet to have another card in that style see print.

Overall: Would’ve loved a rime-rhyme pun somewhere in the set, and this feels like an opportune place for it.

@stormtide-leviathan - Kvasha, God of Magic // Kvasha’s Birth

Flavour: In this setting, the connection between enchantments and Spirits and flash doesn’t feel immediately obvious. Now naturally this is trying to create a connection where one didn’t exist previously, but it does feel like it muddles the flavour slightly to do so.

Mechanics: This is large and evasive enough to serve as a finisher even without making extra tokens, though the tokens can serve as some resiliency against removal. I’m not entirely sure how the flash ability relates to the rest of the card, except to change the template of the Saga’s first ability. If that were so important I’d have looked for a first chapter ability that could take advantage of being cast at instant speed, but then more likely I would’ve just cut the flash bit entirely.

Nitpicks/Templating: I’m not sure what it was intending, but there’s no way for a chapter ability to see the object it’s on entering the battlefield - that ability won’t resolve until well after the permanent has entered, and if it somehow re-entered the battlefield it would do so as an entirely new object. The last chapter ability will want to specify whose controller the object returns under (usually its owner’s), and you’ll want to move the ‘face-up’ bit into reminder text - you don’t need rules text to make it work that way, but it’s definitely worth clarifying for players who might not realise.

Overall: My favourite god designs in this set were the ones that let you use both sides with just one copy.

@thedirtside - Ragnarock

Flavour: The setting for Kaldheim reworked the concept of Ragnarok into what they called a Doomskar, leaving the original name feeling out of place within the setting. The color combinations used for the spell also aren’t represented in the setting, making it difficult to imagine what part of the world this is supposed to be representing in practice.

Mechanics: The most obvious point here is that the foretell cost and the casting cost don’t overlap, making it almost impossible that any given deck will actually have the option of casting it both ways - since the options it provides are the only thing that makes foretell interesting, intentionally designing to hamper that doesn’t seem like a good use of the mechanic. The foretell cost is also much easier to pay than the casting cost, making the added bonus for foretelling the spell feel really counterintuitive.

Nitpicks/Templating: It’ll take a slightly wordier template to achieve the second part of this effect, something like: “For each permanent destroyed this way, CARDNAME deals damage to that permanent’s controller equal to that permanent’s mana value.”

Overall: That must be a really big rock.

@theobligatorysql - The Sagas of Worlds

Flavour: One of the fascinating things about Sagas is the way they use art to represent the stories for them - this set uses carvings, reliefs, even tattoos as a form of storytelling. So while the idea of compiling them all into a single tome is cute, it feels to me like it isn’t exactly fitting for the world itself. I could definitely see it as the work of an outsider - Tamiyo, for example - but it feels like it makes less sense as something native to the plane.

Mechanics: I’m a sucker for designs in the vein of Treasure Map and Mazemind Tome, so an artifact with a cheap scry effect is right up my alley - though admittedly, I’m not sure why this inventivises scrying to the bottom as that complicates the calculus and will cause players to make bad scrying decisions for perceived value a nonzero amount of the time. I’m never a big fan of tutoring as it tends to lead to repetitive gameplay, and the fact that it takes at least 4 full turns to set this up to draw even a second card means that it’s nearly always going to be fetching up a cheap Saga instead of a random draw.

Nitpicks/Templating: I’d probably just use “scried” in the first ability, though admittedly that templated hasn’t been used yet.

Overall: This would be a great opportunity to finally get the word “edda” on a Magic card.

@wolkemesser - Bard of the Fallen Meek

Flavour: This was actually far and away my favourite submission to this challenge in terms of flavour, as I love the way it draws attention to the difference between Istfell and Starnheim, and shows regular individuals within the setting reacting to the concept of the Worthy. The flavour text itself could probably stand to be pared down to be a little punchier about the point it’s making, but I absolutely love what it’s trying to do.

Mechanics: That said, the implementation is a little messier. The skulk mechanic was used in one block five years ago, so certainly doesn’t qualify as evergreen. I like that the creature itself has stats that make it easy to safely get its Boast ability going, though the ability itself feels rather unexciting. I’m not sure what about the card demands the double white in the mana cost, or even what makes this a rare over an uncommon.

Nitpicks/Templating: You missed capitalising “Spirit” in the Boast ability.

Overall: I would’ve loved to pick this as a winner, next time try an extra pass or two to make sure you’re hitting all the aspects of the challenge.

#inventors fair #commentary #kalda woulda shoulda #3smuth

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