#and then i got the idea of a perimeter on a server

[dappervoided]

Docs vacation to Quesadilla Island!

So I watched Docm77 last Hermitcraft season 9 episode today and RAN to make this.

More so on the topic!

He needed to take a break and get his creative juices flowing? What's a better break (nightmare) than to come enjoy the island for a short while!

I've been spinning around the idea of Qsmp and Hermitcraft crossover since the start of Qsmp. There's so many ideas in my brain about this topic even though it'll never actually happen! I'm so sorry, but some things are bound to get out of my daydreams and materialize into doodles!

I think Doc would LOVE the eggs! Not to mention all the cute creatures they'd show him! He'd get attached instantly, they're too adorable!

I could only fit 3 here without making it too busy, but I wanna expand on what I could see the interactions being. Massive ramblings, often grammatically incorrect ahead:

Sunny - now we all know she's a material princess, they'd love Docs bedtime stories about the diamond pillar wars and his incredible contraptions made of diamond in the Perimeter and all the riches he had. Now Tubbo not only has Pierre to watch out for, but Doc also, cause Sunny would beg him to make stuff out of diamonds to show off!

Empanada - she'd clock in instantly that Doc is a German and would try speaking to him in German every moment she got. Now she has both her mom Niki and Doc to talk in her language to! It's not much of an expansion, but she appreciates it a lot! They'd have many delightful conversations and Doc is always happy to have her build little things together. They learn from each other!

Ramon - besides finally having another redstone genius with an entire Hivemind on the server, Ramon would be interested in how Doc works - both in a cyborg way and in the way he creates mind-blowing, game breaking contraptions. If they're not destroying the server together for fun, they're not making the most of their time! Jk, but it do be nice when both of them get to hang out and show each other what they discovered that's scuffed on the server.

Some eggs that aren't drawn:

Chayanne - finally! Another farmer came around! Chayanne would show off his impressive potato farm and cooking skills to Doc, who will always be amazed at the kids dedication! Doc can finally have his tomato farm in a Minecraft world now, since the mods allow it! It is too free for everyone to use

Tallulah - If she would show Doc the incredible builds she made and her and her papas place, he would be moved to tears! Everything is made with such love and incredible amounts of effort and thought! From her farm of all possible plants, to her garden and to El Cielo De Las Tortugas. Such incredible places to visit and appreciate! And Tallulahs amazing way of storytelling would only serve to amplify those feelings

Dapper - now besides trying cage trap Doc 1000x times, Dapper would definitely show off everything he got once he discovers that Doc is deeply amused and surprised by all the non vanilla things! They would invite Doc to their base to show everything and I mean EVERYTHING there is for show. It's definitely too much, but Doc is very impressed by her and would praise how much work she puts in! Dapper do be the definition of GRIND!

Leo - Leo and her dads made so many incredible builds, Doc would be amazed at how much they did in such a short time! Besides that Leo herself is an incredibly, theatrically even, good at body language and expression! He'd die of cuteness and laughter like all of us already do!

Pomme - we all know that Pomme has so many talents! From being a little musician, to an incredible warrior, to a thought out builder and a spectacularly emotional writer. There's a lot Doc will have to slowly discover about Pomme! And each time the scale and depths of things will get more and more impressive, because the share amounts of time and effort she puts into her creations, passions and loved ones is massive!

Pepito - this kid! Pepito is such an incredible character to be around! Pepito is so dedicated to whatever Pepito does, especially if it's with friends! Whenever Pepito has fun, it always radiates outwards in many different ways! You can't really help yourself but get charged up with energy when you're around. And Doc does just that!

Richarlyson- Richas is a lot in the best ways possible! But we all know he's very much a jokester, he wouldn't miss a beat trying to mess with the goat! And once he finds out what kinds of retaliations Docs is capable of? OH IT'S WAR (for fun, cause that's what it's all about!)

I'm sorry if this is chaotic at some parts or lacking in others, I have to write this all in one go before my battery dies. I haven't been able to watch many streams so I'm sorry if Im not up to date with the characters, but that is what I remember them as! Any corrections or lore updates are always welcome! I want to learn more, especially now that I can't watch!

Anyhow, now that I look back on that drawing why do I feel like I've done something terrible.... I've seen those designs before......

OH NO

[mama-qwerty]

Alone Together

Okay, so I'm in a Knuckles-focused discord server and we toss ideas back and forth like ping-pong balls, sometimes resulting in me vomiting out a little scene from it.

So for this one, we got talking about an event where the Master Emerald pulls ALL the versions of Knux into one place, ala Spiderverse style. Dread, naturally, would be seen as that one weird cousin no one really likes but has to invite anyway, and it got me thinking about maybe how Boom would deal with him. Here's the result.

Check out the Knucklesverse guide for more deets.

Enjoy!

~~~~~

The tall echidna stood in the room, looking around himself nervously. It was a large space, with strange architecture bordering the perimeter. He wasn’t exactly clear how he got here, but was certain it had something to do with the giant green gem hovering above their heads.

The Master Emerald.

He didn’t know how he knew what it was, but nonetheless, there the information was. There . . . a lot of information was, all of a sudden. It was as if his mind were a pool of water, with dozens of puzzle pieces floating haphazardly within it, and now those pieces had snapped into place properly.

For the first time in his life, Knuckles could think clearly.

It was . . . strange. Suddenly having new information in your head. Just . . . knowing things. Not as strange as being in a room with what appeared to be a lot of different versions of, well, yourself, but strange anyway.

He fidgeted with the wrappings around his hands—hands that had individually wrapped fingers instead of large mitts like all the other echidna in the room. They were like him, but . . . different. Each echidna had the same red fur, the same white crescent moon on his chest, and the same kinked tail. But they were all smaller than him, and some wore clothing. They were all technically “Knuckles”, but his mind conjured different names as his eyes floated over them.

OVA. Archie. Sinbad. StC. Sir Gawain. Classic. Prime. Modern. IDW. Renegade. Wachowski. Gnarly. Forces.

His brows furrowed. Those names didn’t make any sense, but he supposed they had to have some way of telling each other apart. They couldn’t exactly just call each other “Knuckles”, now could they? That would get confusing.

He thought about himself, and the word ‘Boom’ came to mind.

Huh. That’s . . . that’s weird.

Giving his head a shake, Boom watched as the smaller hims chatted and interacted. He’d been invited to join a few conversations, but had nothing to add when the other echidna spoke of their ‘guardian duties’. He wasn’t exactly sure what that meant, so he had simply wandered off.

And now he felt alone in this crowd. This collection of other versions of himself.

Boom sighed, wondering when he could go home. Not that he was eager to lose this newfound clarity in his mind, but being here made him feel odd. Like he was supposed to be part of this group, but just . . . wasn’t, for some reason.

The tall echidna rubbed the back of his neck, glancing around himself again, taking in the carvings on the walls. He’d never seen any of this before, but it seemed strangely familiar to him. He turned to look at the wall behind him, and found another Knuckles sitting against it, his knees drawn up to his chin.

A name came to his mind.

Dread.

The echidna was dressed like a pirate, and snarled at any of the other Knuckles’ who happened to glance his way. He was doing a pretty decent job of keeping himself isolated, but didn’t really look all that happy about it.

Boom was nothing if not friendly. He approached the little pirate, a little smile on his lips.

“Hey there, little guy,” he said, crossing his arms as he looked down at the other him. “Feeling kinda left out?”

Dread scoffed, keeping his eyes averted. “As though ye cared. All the others feel some sort of weird bonding with each other. I don't. I be nothin' like them.”

Boom tilted his head slightly, glancing back at the group of echidna behind him. Gnarly and Renegade chatted, while Modern and Classic listened in, nodding. Yeah, he supposed they were very similar in a lot of ways, so of course they'd get along. They were all the same person, technically speaking. They were him, and he was them.

It was really, really weird when he thought about it too much.

The taller echidna turned back to Dread, shrugging. “I'm not like them, either.”

Dread rolled his eyes, but still wouldn’t face Boom. “That’s a load o’ barnacles. Ye're more like them than ye realize. Don't patronize me, ya scallywag.”

Boom shrugged again as he lowered himself to sit cross-legged before Dread. “Most of them have something called the Master Emerald. I don't have anything like that. And I don't talk like them. I don't look like them. I mean, I kinda do, but I'm pretty different. But that doesn't mean it's bad, I don’t think.”

“All they see when they see me is a smelly, rotten pirate,” Dread sneered, baring his fangs at the others. “I don't belong here. They know it, and I know it.”

“Well,” Boom said, his brow furrowing as he thought. “Maybe they don't think you belong here, because you don't think you belong here.”

Dread turned to face Boom fully, his muzzle pulled into a snarl. “Are ye tryin' t' get into me head?” he growled. “Don't turn this around on me. I know I've done wrong. I know I can't be trusted. They know it, too. Why do ye want me t’ think otherwise?”

Silence settled over them, and Boom twisted his mouth as he thought. Why did he? There were plenty of other Knuckles' to be friends with, ones who were much more inviting and accepting of his friendship. So why was he focused on Dread? What did he care if this version of himself was left out and lonely?

“Maybe,” the taller echidna said, speaking slowly as he chose his words carefully. "Maybe it's because you're different, like me. Maybe I don't feel like I belong with the others either, because they're so much more serious and smarter and know what they're meant to do with their life. Maybe I see you, and I see a Knuckles who maybe doesn't have that sure path. Someone who's just trying to figure it out, like me."

Dread seemed to contemplate what his larger counterpart said. The ever-present furrow in his brow smoothed, and he flicked his violet eyes up to meet Boom's identical ones.

“Ye feel it, too?” he asked, his voice softer than Boom had ever heard it. “That feeling. Like there be somethin' missin' in yer life. But ye can't put ye're finger on what. And it be like a gnat, buzzin' in ye're ear. Always there, but slightly outta phase.”

Boom tilted his head, thinking about how Dread had phrased it. Finally he nodded.

“Yeah. That's kinda what it's like. Like . . . I know I should be doing something important. Something that matters. But . . .” He shrugged. “I don't know what.”

Dread lowered his head, resting his chin on his knees.

“I've always wanted to be someone important,” he said, his gaze dropping to float across the floor in front of him. “Be seen. Be recognized as the fiercest pirate in all the seven seas. The idea of being unknown is almost painful to me. And I thought the Prism Shard would do that. Suppose it did. But . . .” He shook his head, his brow furrowing. “It did something to me. And I wasn't happy. I didn't feel like me. Or the me I was supposed to be.”

Boom nodded slightly, glancing over his shoulder at the other echidnas. The other Knuckles'. The other hims. But they weren't him. It was weird. He turned back to the pirate with a sigh.

“They seem to have it all figured out, don't they? Even Gnarly and Renegade. They don't have one of those Master Emerald things, but they feel the pull from it and just know who they're supposed to be. But me? I feel it, but I don't FEEL it. Like, I know it's there, and it helps me feel . . . I dunno, more in step with the world around me. But it just doesn't feel like . . . like it's me.”

Dread nodded, uttering his own sigh. “Aye, it be like a hand on the back of ye're neck, guiding. But it feels wrong somehow. Like it was never meant for me.” He flicked his eyes up to Boom. “Us.”

Boom leaned forward, his brow furrowed slightly. “Does . . . does that mean there's something wrong with us?”

Dread didn't answer right away. He looked over at the other Knuckles'. They were so much more accepting of this new connection. This new duty of guarding the Master Emerald, and helping to balance chaos energy. It was all so strange to him. He still didn't fully understand it, or wrap his head around it all. Life was so much easier when all he had to worry about was his next treasure hunt, and keeping himself alive.

“I dunno, lad,” he said finally. “They all seemed to have fallen into step without question or doubt. Maybe that be the way it should be. Or maybe having some healthy fear and doubt about something different than you've always known be wiser.”

Boom gave a little snort of laughter. “I've never been accused of being smart,” he said, shaking his head. “Always been kind of an airhead my whole life.” He paused, a thoughtful look on his face. “But . . . I feel like I can think better now. Like my mind isn't all jumbled and noisy like it was before.”

Dread nodded, a nearly identical expression on his face. “Aye, I know what ye mean. My mind also be . . . quieter. It always felt like I had so much noise in my head, like some sort of buzzing or itchy feeling. But now . . . it be gone.”

The two sat quietly for a while, thinking their thoughts and shooting little glances over at the rest of their new tribe. A tribe of one, split into many. It was strange--being in a crowd but seeing your own eyes staring back at you, hearing variations of your own voice. The personalities were different, but there was that similarity, deep down at their core.

“Thank ye,” Dread said, startling Boom from his thoughts. “For sittin' with me. They all mistrust me because of what I did on my world. And to be fair, I can't blame them. I was . . . pretty bad. I wasn't thinkin' straight.”

Boom smiled, giving him a shrug. “Hey, don't worry about it. When you have a noisy, itchy brain, you do things you probably wouldn't now. I'm usually ignored on my world, because, like I said, airhead.”

Dread smirked, his gold tooth glinting in the light. “I don't think ye're an airhead. Ye seem pretty wise, to me.”

Boom chuckled. “And you don't seem like some smelly ol' pirate to me. Just a guy who maybe needed a friend.”

The pirate chuckled back, and held his hand out. “Aye. We are well met, Boom.”

Boom reached out to complete the handshake. “Right back atcha, Dread.”

~~~

Like this? Check out my other snippets. Reblogs are appreciated!

[stonebricks-mcytstuff]

I absolutely love the Hermitcraft kingdom arc they’re doing right now because my brain is getting so many ideas (this became really long so I put them all under the read more)

We’ve got:

A sad pathetic wet dog of a king. Trying so hard to become menacing and enforcing rules but his pathetic vibes just overshadow his “kingliness”. If the pathetic hermit survey ever makes a comeback he would absolutely be my first option on there. Also his establishment of a new type of currency (~Royal Emeralds~) because his diamond coffers are empty is giving me DerpCoin flashbacks and I see absolutely no issue with this uh huh no siree this will go down well in Hermitcraft, a diamond currency server, mhmm, no problems here at all chief

A yes man with a knife ready to stab you in the back, the kingmaker Bdubs has once again put another person on a position of power that he is actually the true owner of. This scrunkly moss man has enamored me with his really obvious “villainous henchman who is ready to replace his boss any moment” vibes and honestly you go king— I mean, Royal Architect, sir

A king’s court that are like, one second away from taking the throne away from Ren themselves. 4/6 of them were at the Xisuma party (Bdubs, Cleo, Joe, and Cub) and yet only Bdubs was the only one who owned up to it. Their loyalties to the King are on absolute thin ice that I won’t be surprised if several (or all of them) become moles for any resistance brewing up on the server (or pull an Eret and betray Ren for like, The Perimeter or something). Cub’s video has most them ready to jump ship (or attempt regicide) during the part where King Ren is asking for their loyalty and paying them with ~Royal Emeralds~ so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯.

Plus, the king’s court and the lack of diamonds in his vault isn’t even the only issue that our king has, we’ve also got:

Menace #1: Pesky Bird himself. I absolutely love that he is aware that we’re expecting a resistance from him, and his N.A.R. bit is very funny because it feels like he would break any second now and just pull out a resistance plan board behind the N.A.R. wall (not to mention his Rift thing because his way of telling a story with the AU Grumbot slaps)

Menace #2: Just a Tomato Farmer, Docm77, ruler of the independent state of the Perimeter. Honestly he feels like an overpowered supervillain who got bored of being a villain, so he got a piece of land that he could use for tomato farming and other farms that are gamebreaking but mostly for fun, but now King RentheKing is pulling the tyrant arc and Doc is like “whoops, time to go back to being super evil, I guess” and just pulls a L’manberg arc but he’s the overpowered one in the situation so what is Ren even going to do about him? Also, his Goat Tapes and the Perimeter National Anthem are ABSOLUTE BANGERS I highly recommend giving those a listen if you want to hear cool music alongside gamebreaking

Menaces #3, #4, & #5: the Soup Group. I’m not even surprised that Impulse, capitalist CEO of several shops on the server, is the first to take a stand against King Ren “thy must throw your diamonds into the pit” the King. Pearl “cleaning lady who likes to make soup but my past life is an absolute wet cat of a serial killer and a queen who will kick your ass” is also not a person that I’m surprised about. Gem, however, has that “my friends are doing this thing so I might as well join them” vibes and I love that for her. Also, GeminiSlay will be fun to see right alongside the other two who are admittedly bloodthirsty in their own rights (though for Impulse an interesting thing to think about is how Bdubs being on the other side of this “conflict” affects his plans, seeing as the Life series is vaguely canon on Hermitcraft so that is also fun food for thought). In their trio meeting as well, the way that the three of them plan to do a resistance by annoying the king off the throne is top tier, and the way that their vibe is “We’re going to destroy a monarchy :D” is something that I want to see further because I want to imagine a future Hermitcraft episode where this trio has “Committing Regicide | Hermitcraft Season 9” in their episode titles and it is just them putting Ren in a death loop while still using their positive vibes voices (This is me just wanting to see more GeminiSlay, Unhinged 5AM Pearl, and also maybe a bloodthirsty Impulse, don’t mind me)

This isn’t even my entire rant I can keep going with the rest of the hermits but yeah I love Hermitcraft Season 9 so much any hermit posting a new video is a joy to watch (even if it isn’t Hermitcraft content because I am here for the content creators on Hermitcraft and not necessarily Hermitcraft content itself). I am that one guy who is camped at the Hermitcraft website and being excited when the “All Videos” section updates, don’t mind me kskskksksksks

[icyhotheartwritings]

OKAY SO

At the very start of the season, Docm77 built a world-eater to blast a 500 x 500 block hole right down to bedrock to use as space for his farms and base, called the Perimeter. The Perimeter is right next to where Grian, MumboJumbo, and GoodTimesWithScar settled their own bases. This is all setup for one of the wildest prank wars in Hermitcraft history.

It all started because Grian didn’t want to finish the back of his base. He didn’t want to finish it so bad that GeminiTay, ImpulseSV, and Scar held an intervention to get him to finish it, that he PROMPTLY managed to distract Scar from and they both raced off next door to see Doc’s latest game-defying contraption - a redstone tunnel bore in the wall of the Perimeter. That they managed to blow up. They did their best to rebuild it, but these two are builders and not redstoners and therefore had No Idea how to do that, so they just left a little apology present and got the fuck out of dodge.

Unfortunately for them Doc doesn’t do apology presents too well! So he fired back by setting a trap for Grian that blew up Mumbo’s front door (I still don’t know whether or not that was intentional or a slight misfire), and managed to hang DOZENS of wither skulls (you know, the ones the wither shoots out of its heads?? the exploding ones?? yeah those) in midair over the main square of Scar’s theme park.

So now that there’s three wronged parties (two perpetrators and an innocent bystander), they got together to form The Buttercups to band together and fight the goat. Grian egged the Perimeter with hundreds of chickens, they built a cute little hippie camp on the edge of the Perimeter, Doc made flying butterflies to blow up Grian and Mumbo’s bases, both parties made giant robots to fight each other, Doc enlisted Rendog to help spy on the Buttercups by building a secret room under their camp and stuffing sniffers in there, the Buttercups graffitied the Perimeter with a goddamn Live Laugh Love sign, Doc tore it down and replaced it with a trapped Grind Optimize Automate Thrive (G. O. A. T., if you notice) sign that ended up blowing up their camp and all the sniffers underneath, at some point Doc also covered the Buttercup’s bases with hundreds of duped dragon eggs but I can’t remember when that happened in the timeline, and then like half of the involved parties went on vacation.

Grian came back first and he had the brilliant (“bRiLlIaNt”) idea to just. Cover the entire Perimeter. All 250,000 blocks of it. But not in one flat plane of dirt, no no NO. This man is a BUILDER. And Scar is a builder too. These motherfuckers TERRAFORMED it. Planted trees and everything. But since it was a race against the clock to beat Doc getting back on the server, they hijacked the weekly Hermitcraft meeting to be all “hey anyone wanna help us cover the Perimeter?” AND THEY GOT LIKE SEVEN PEOPLE TO HELP. I CANNOT STRESS ENOUGH THAT LITERALLY NOBODY EXCEPT MUMBO, GRIAN, SCAR, REN, AND DOC WERE EVER INVOLVED IN THIS WAR AND YET THE SPIRIT OF HERMITCRAFT IS JUST THAT NOBODY CAN RESIST A POINTLESS ENDEAVOR TO FUCK WITH THEIR FRIENDS. I SAY POINTLESS BECAUSE DOC CLEANED IT UP QUICKLY AND EASILY.

Anyway. They threw the Perimeter under a rug and all their videos dropped one after the other like right before Doc came back, and the man lost his shit swearing bloody bloody vengeance on everyone involved on Twitter. Hermitcraft is a family-friendly server, right, and in his latest video he opened it saying it was REALLY hard to not swear like a sailor. This whole thing is wild and you really gotta watch at least the Hermitcraft Recap to get it all, cuz I know I forgot some things

SORRY THIS IS LATE august chewed me up and spit me out but HOLY SHIT THAT IS INCREDIBLE. Oh my god. I have to get into Hermitcraft Immediately

[delicatebluebirdruins]

Not A Hero and End of Zoe cutscene talk

theres not a lot but they have some points (and I probably missed some for Not A Hero... I feel like I did)

Not A Hero

1. Lucas: "Is it ready? Can we begin? "I can't help it, man. We've got work to do."

Veronica: "Chris, did we lose him?" Chris: "No, no. Ethan Winters has been secured. He's alive and well, considering." Veronica: "And Lucas Baker? Right now, he's our only link to The Connections." Chris: "He's next on my list.“

we don't learn who Lucas is talking to but we do know its not the connections. Lucas is a double agent selling data to have another group about Evie (and from one of the files we learn why. he thinks the connections won't use Evie properly)

two options: normal feedback from the guys in helicopter when they were flying away and Veronicas comment about how Lucas is their only link lends to that.

but also CONSIDERING WHAT? have you seen RE1 hd Chris alternative outfit looking like the most douchy thing known to man? you know don't judge a book by its cover. But all jokes aside he says this with assurance as if he knows Ethan. And they knew he was going to be there that's what it sounds like to me anyway

2. "dialogue: experiments with an e-type variant": aka these fuckers: fumers and mama molded (later on "I have no idea. its something new. Proceed with extreme caution... white variant is extremely resilient")

3. the son of a bitch has been sending status reports on Evie to the connections: self explanatory this is confirmation of their previous thoughts (briefing document you find in Chris's inventory at the start) and there is a moment of Chris expressing his distaste of working with Blue Umbrella.

4. "if you're gonna kill me just kill me for the love of god shut the fuck up"... no analysis just big ass mood really

5. "Umbrella and Redfield have been taken care of. dealing with them cost me some time cost them a lot more. But I can still get that data to you but we're quits after that" I am going to say this was towards the connections and not the other party but i don't know for sure

6. Lucas "a lot of people out there want to know about out little Evie. a lot of people" Chris: "Your friends, the connections know about this they don't strike me as the forgiving type"

Who are the other people? what was Lucas's plan after he completely betrayed the Connections (... why did Lucas betray the connections? we can infer the why as again he thought they won't use her properly) and of course the criminal organisation won't be forgiving at outright betrayal (or even perceived betrayal for that matter) makes you wonder why explicity Ethan and Mia were moved to where they are in Village (and if they have been moved before)

7. Veronica: "Chris, the data transfer's almost complete!“ Chris: "How do I stop it?" Veronica: "You need a way to shut down the server. There may be some transformer relays you can—“ Chris shoots "OK… that worked. Gonna be some pissed computer techs up here, but—“ Chris: "Cry me a river. What's the sitrep?" Veronica: "The facility is clear. Even the newer breeds have been neutralized." Chris: "Then I'm outta here.“ Veronica: "Perimeter wall is up and operational.“ Chris: "Good. "Think we did any good here?“ Veronica: "Not for them, unfortunately, but the mold is contained. Hopefully, they're Evie's last victims.“ Chris: "Hopefully.“ Veronica: "Chris, there's a call for you. You need to take it back at the camp.“ Chris: "Alright. I'm on my way."

no thoughts about the first part of the bolded text other than it makes me sad. Chris has been in this so long and its just you know tiring for him

now the call back at camp. I am willing to bet that's its Ethan asking him to search for Zoe. And again I ask how can a random normal civilian get a direct line to anyone in this situation let alone Chris Redfield?

End of Zoe

Joe: "What the hell are you boys up to?“ Soldier: "That's her alright. Zoe Baker. She's still breathing. Call in to HQ."

I wonder who wants status reports? also did they get a chance (I hope the prisoner Joe takes took the chance whilst he was out got the call out)

...Soldier: "Listen to me. We're here to help.“ Joe: "No, I don't believe you, boy. Tell me—what kind of help comes in a helicopter gunship.“ Soldier: "You don't know what you're talking' about. You don't get it!“ Joe: "With all these monsters running' around here. Tell me—where'd they come from?“ Soldier: "It's not what you think. You don't understand!“ Joe: "Oh, I don't understand? "You see that girl back there? Look! That there my brother's little girl. My niece. You understand? And around here, family is a righteous cause! And you ain't gonna kill my family! Now see, that ain't something' I can abide.“

Joe was in the military in the Marines specifically but from his questioning he knows about outbreak military suppression groups maybe even aided in one such incident (and after getting discharged went to live in a shack in the swamp close enough to his family but far enough to not know a thing that's happening)

Soldier: "For fuck's sake. She's infected—she's dying—and we're both gonna fuckin' die if we don't get the fuck outta here right now!" Joe: "She ain't dead yet, boy! So I figure you better do something about it. Before I feed you to your little friends outside." Soldier: "OK, OK! "There's a cure.“ Joe: "You're lying to me." Soldier: "I'm not lying... I'm not lying. We were on our way to get her treatment, and you fucked that up when you jumped us! They're probably still waiting for us right now!“ Joe: "Where?"

Joe: "Soldier boy said the meds were at some kind of base... "Now where in all hell did this wall come from…?"

how did Joe miss the wall being constructed? other than him not being close and doesn't go in that direction when he goes hunting?

Joe: "Jack? What the fuck—" Joe: "Goddammit, Jack! Don't you remember your own brother? Don't do it! Don't you touch her! Jack! Let me the fuck outta here! I'm your family! How the fuck could you do this to me? Get me the fuck outta here, Jack!"... Joe: "Goddammit. Aw hell, Jacky-boy... What's happened to you?"

startling realisation and trying to reason with Jack but it won't work (again I think Joe drowned the screen goes black and he gets up at the Baker estate)

"attacked by unknown bioweapon"

Jack gets around quite a bit (considering he can teleport- it would be cool if what he was actually doing was disolving into the ground and reforming wherever he needs to go but alas the garage opening scene exists)

"You're just a rabid dog now. And I'm gonna put you outta your misery."

I had a thought so we see don't see Jack crystalise (I say calcify is better description) after the chainsaw fight but we do see him do so in the boathouse and his legs turn as well in this last boss so his upper half turned into the monster in the boathouse (kinda like fear street and the kids trying to blow up the killers and watching them reform though in this case its both reform and deform)

Joe Baker: "This is a farewell from the family, brother!... Zoe...!"

its just a badass line what can I say?

Chris: "Weapons down. Weapons down! It's alright. You must be Zoe Baker." Joe: "Who the hell's asking?" Chris: "Chris Redfield. We've been looking all over for you. We're here to help."

there is element of Chris helping look for Zoe being that she can be helped. that she wasn't a lost cause. But it seems like there was a lot of effort going into her search all for one person (also I wonder if their search is what woke Jack up or was Jack searching the entire time)

BEST CUTSCENE

Zoe: "I was trapped with those monsters for 3 years—all of them trying to kill me... I can't believe it's finally over.“ Joe: "Ya gotta know, deep down somewhere, they were still your family and they loved you. Especially your daddy... even in his final days.“ Chris: "We found her. She's a tough kid. Yeah, of course. Hang on."

"Someone wants to speak to you."

Ethan: "Zoe? Zoe, are you there?“ Zoe: "It's you! I don't believe it. You actually made it." Ethan: "We both did."

Zoe: "You didn't forget about me."

Ethan: "I told you I'd send help. And I always keep my promises."

Zoe: "Thank you, Ethan."

I wonder if whilst Zoe was being checked up they were explaining what happened to Joe and and Joe came to this rightful conclusion (Jack wanted to bring his baby home)

Chris updating Ethan on finding her over and handing the phone over. (I would love to know what the conversation was like on Ethans end and before Chris came into the tent)

Ethan has to have some kind of authority for some reason to be able to say this with confidence. And you know getting Chris to personally update him AND hand the phone over (again normal civilians can't do this?)

I love this bit what can I say

[fountainpenguin]

"See, I am a legend and I always win! The stars in the cosmos, they bow to my whim!" (x)

---

New Dog's Life chapter today! ~ 3rd Life series fan-season

Chapter 24 - “Jolt (Cleo, Scott)”

❤️ Read on AO3

💛 Start from Chapter 1

💚 More Pixels Imperfect fics

---

Martyn buries Cleo alive while talking about pacing structure and roleplay plot points. Also, Mayor Scott gets a reality check about running a utopian server hub that no one ever leaves.

(First 1,000 words under the cut)

---

ZombieCleo - Zombie

Status: Mentally stimulated

Historian, museum curator, and stadium gamemaster

💙  🧡  💚

They're up in the tunnels, lying on their back on exposed tweenstone while the opals glitter in the walls above them. It's dead dark in here. She's got decent night vision and Martyn probably does too. Glowing eyes do help with that. She's got dirt coating most of her body. Martyn's patting more into place and really going off on a long-winded spiel. Yeah, he does that. Cleo rests with one hand on her stomach and lets him talk. Martyn just wants someone to talk to and she just wants to touch the loamy black soil outside the perimeter. They have to do this together or not at all.

"-enough foreshadowing, d'you think?" Martyn makes a vague swirl with his hand. "I mean, when I look at the storyboards, it seems a little bathtub-y, but I wanted to have fun with it. I think I can swing it- It's better to have fun."

"Mmhm," she says. "I mean, if you want to avoid info-dumping, tension's always going to be the best fix. The first thing I think of is just… Adding weapons. Or maybe slide the scene somewhere else, like a cliff. Or maybe you have a build or private room the viewers have never seen inside before, so it feels exciting even if it's full of talking."

"There's a thought!"

"Or- or, here's an idea- Give them a solid reason they can't actually leave. It doesn't even have to be physical restraints, right? Maybe one character has an item the other wants. Maybe it's just information. Or someone's hurt? You have that whole treasure-hunting schtick going on, right? Adding a collectible to the mix could amp the stakes."

"Oh, that's good. I like that… Withholding information is killer, dude."

"Not too much, though."

"No, no! It'll be clear well before the end. Hmm. Maybe it just needs a pacing restructure. A little more to draw things out, yeah? I might slip in an extra scene upfront that doesn't look important at the time, but should really tie things together down the road." He sprinkles dirt around her neck, making some stupid drawn-out show of it just because it gets his wings up, apparently. Cleo sticks out their tongue. He laughs, giving the wings a flap. "Ooh, actually- You know that respawn idea I had last Friday? What are your Week 2 thoughts on that?"

"Kill your darlings. Not the character- I mean the scene. Just opt for a near-death experience instead. I think the punch will hit harder."

"What hits harder than a respawn?"

Cleo shrugs, which waterfalls black dirt down their shoulders and across Martyn's skinned knees. "I mean, delays don't do you any good. You'll have dead space anyway because of all that travel time to get back to the main scene. Remember your Limited Life ending with the lava buckets? Just work around it. Set it up so you can stay around, even if you're injured. Respawns feel like cheating anyway- I mean, they refresh you back to full energy. It's a little cheap."

Martyn exhales. It leaves him like a swirl. "Hmm… Yeah, I can see that."

"Just think about it, at least. You don't have to throw the scene out."

"Yeah, I know. I do see your point. Spawn is so far away." He takes the spilled dirt and pats it into place again, pressing on the wrinkles until the stuff is sealed against her like a freshly frosted chocolate cake. "The thing is, I feel like I'm getting nowhere with the storyboards. I think I need to get into the dialogue. Maybe do some test drafts. A few bullet points, at least. I'll run them by you again next week and we can do a pros and cons list."

"Mmhm!"

That seems to satisfy him. See, Martyn likes to talk through plot points without spilling spoilers to the people he actually roleplays with. And he's always hungry. These are the two most important facts you need to know about Martyn, at least as far as Cleo and the gemstone cave are concerned. See, so long as they only allofeed him snippets at a time, he'll patiently wait until she's run out of souls to share before he finally takes her out. Even when she's well down in the depths of phantom hour, he'll let her push the boundary. Maybe farther than he should. Throw a soul in front of a phantom and you'll really wreck their aggro.

It's a balance of carrots and sticks. It's yin and yang. It's push and pull. Teamwork is essential. She never would've managed to carve out this secret cave without Martyn's wings lifting her past the bullet path moat or into the ceiling tunnel. Scott can poke around all he wants, but unless he thinks to look up, he's never going to find her hideaway.

The thing is, Martyn can whisk his help away any time he likes. At any time. He didn't withdraw when Double Life split them apart, though Cleo firmly told him chatting about Double Life was off the table the first time he opened his mouth. The third time, maybe. Sure, he whined and groveled about roleplay decompression for a bit (for "the" bit?), but she gave him a cornflower from her hair that he can keep in Between to match the one she gave him on the server. That's all the "We're okay; it's just a game" aftercare he really wanted. He eased up.

He never wore it, though, even though it was the start of the 100-day block back then, which is… confusing. She dropped by his and Jimmy's place once for a game night though, and there it was… in a vase. And honestly, it doesn't get any more clear than that: Thanks for the gift! Your friendship's important to me, but I reject your courtship. I'll keep it as a memento to show there's nothing weird between us, but I'm not wearing this. I don't want you to get the wrong idea.

Martyn's full of wrong ideas. He does what he thinks is "funny." That's the polite way to put it. And since hanging out with Martyn in the caves is really just a business transaction, she should probably make an effort to be polite.

"What's so funny?" he asks, looking up from her dirt-covered arm.

"Bad joke."

"Share or it didn't happen."

Cleo blinks up, his form in shadow apart from the lapis-like glow of his eyes. "I gave you a flower a while back. During Double Life."

"Yeah?"

"You never wore it, but I saw it in your room. Just thought it was funny to interpret that as you saying 'I don't want Cleo to get the wrong idea' when you're full of wrong-"

"Whoa, whoa," he says, throwing his hands in the air. Cleo snorts and Martyn tsk-tsks, thwacking his tail against the dirt. "And this when I'm putting dirt on you."

"I do appreciate that, yeah."

He slaps the next clump down hard. Cleo jolts, but the glitter in his eyes tells them straight away that he's not really mad. "I can't believe that's what you think of me even in your private thoughts. And after all this time!"

"I'm petty, rude, and I commit to the bit. I'm not sure why you're surprised."

"I'm not."

[Full chapter on AO3 - Link at top]

[sadevergreen]

OK so the image isn’t that important or great but i’ve been really obsessed with the song Birthday Suit by Cosmo Sheldrake and i cannot get the idea out of my head about King Rentheking’s story arc aligning with the lyrics-

(the photo is just like focus because originally i wanted to do little drawings for each of the lyrics sort of animatic style but then i couldn’t finish it in one sitting and i decided i didn’t need to finish it) so instead of doing that, i’m gonna just go through the lyrics and what part/ why i think it aligns with the storyyyy thus far!

“Weighed down by morning, in my birthday suit” - sun rise over the crastle, ren wearing his lil crown and big ol king cloak -> i think the crown and power/ responsibility has been a lot of pressure on ren and i think he is scared and desperate, he’s pulling last ditch efforts to try to live up to what bdubs accidentally(?) cursed him to

“lift up the evening, just for a while” - down in the vault w/ impulse setting up the costume party and secretly leading everyone down there -> it’s almost like accidentally a flex from impulse- he has more power than the king! it seems absurd but bare w/ me; he got everyone to conjugate together, no one actually listens to the king, impulse just gave out the kings diamonds full stop- ya see where i’m going? and some of that is ren’s own fault, like in rens desperation he is further severing his connection with his people

”backwards, upside down, and inside out. so hold on or we’ll all fall down” everyone scattering like that one scene in ratatouille all fleeing in different directions -> they all left cause they know they were doing something they weren’t supposed to and they didn’t want to be get caught. ren is a bit of a tyrant, they knew what would happened if they stayed. the ‘hold on or we’ll al fall down’ is so HDJFJJSJFJJS to me because there is something to lose on both sides almost?? like for ren, if he goes too far he’s going to be overthrown so he has to hold on to whatever he can to retain power because he’s lost support and credibility. like he broke the one thing he was hired to fix. but for everyone else, they’re already getting the short straw! they have no money anymore with rens hoarding and the stupid royal emeralds, the laws are getting more and more absurd, like what else are they supposed to do? they have to be strong and fight ren because if they don’t, he’s just going to keep digging himself into a hole and dragging everyone down w/ him.

”oh, heave the oceans too, won’t you?” like just imagine all the billboards proclaiming the laws -> more just an idea of everyone (even rens own team) becoming fed up with his bs. just like ‘oh ofc, we won’t afk or do anything apparently! great!’ just sarcasm hhh

“i’ll keep my ears on” doc chillin in his garden in the perimeter -> i love how doc literally was just like ‘no’ and made his own country- its wonderful and we love him for it <3 but yeah just doc silently overhearing everything happening and being glad he’s not a part of it and doesn’t have to abide by rens laws

“i’ll keep my eyes open” either watcher grian overseeing it all from his lil cave w/ the rift OR ren paranoid and nervously checking behind him -> ren knows he’s gonna be shut down soon, with the soup group and everything, that’s why he’s becoming so desperate. everywhere it seems someone wants his head on a stake

”i’ll keep my legs in sight and wait, ‘til we all fall down” a possible future scenario, ren being beheaded as a formal gesture of his finality -> ‘til we all fall down’ except it’s ren’s head in a basket- i think everyone is just WAITING until ren falls down and no more king!! c’mon we all know how positions of power work on the hermitcraft server smh

alright and that concludes these ramblings of a lunatic!! of you read through that, tysm!! i’ve had these thoughts for a while and i’m glad to have a space to voice ‘em. but genuinely so many props to ren for pulling this off??? like it’s very hard to play the villain and be someone that everyone hates and is wishing for their demise but he does it so well and continues to put in that one of a kind effort and flair that we’ve come to known X) UGH I JUST LOVE THIS SERIES SO MUCH JEJJFJSJCJJDJFJ OKK BYEEE AND IF YOU EVER WANNA TALK TO ME ABOUT HERMITCRAFT PLS REACH OUT LOL -jeddie

[recapcrew]

Week 26 Transcript

Video

Intro

Extra extra, read all about it! Welcome to the Empire’s Recap, and today we will be going over the chaos and drama of our (somewhat) respected rulers!

This week is rather short - the run up to and through the winter holidays had everyone busy, but the dramatics never stop on the Hermit slash Empires server, and we’ll all see you next year!

Pix

We begin with Pixlriffs at a loss for words.

It seems that Docm77 has somehow managed to bring the actual Ender Dragon into the overworld, and Pix is reminded that even he never knows what will happen on Hermitcraft.

Doc says the dragon is “safe” right now, but Pix is giving it a wide berth, just in case.

Instead, he’s heading out to meet up with Zedaph, who wants some help with his next custom advancement (or Zedvancement). Time to answer the absolutely new age-old question: how many pigs can you chain together with leads and riders?

Pix loves finding out the answer to ridiculous questions, so he agrees to help put the pigs through their paces. He has the idea for a swimming pool, and in his need for prismarine, he turns to Gem, who is familiar enough with both of their shenaniganery to not question it.

[GEM] Yeah, you guys are so weird. Alright, I’ll help!

[NARRATOR] She shows him to the farm, and Pix promises an IOU - though unlike those he’s been giving the other Hermits, he can’t simply return to Empires and escape paying Gem, since. You know, she’s there too.

Returning to Zedaph, the swimming pool becomes the center of an obstacle course planned for the army of pigs. Pixlriffs leads them on a test run, riding Piggs-lriffs, and it all goes well until the fire section, which is more effective if the leader is Pig-less-riffs.

The two of them build a massive diving board to dangle a chain of pigs from - over the water so a broken lead doesn’t become a perished piggy - clean a few pillagers out of the pigpen, and wrangle a mix of 11 other Hermits and Emperors to name and saddle up their hogs. And then begins the piggening.

It turns out their dangling plan only works two pigs deep, but most of the pigs are unhurt, besides a little sogginess. The obstacle course is, well, I’m not sure if more successful is the word, but it’s certainly a lot of fun - and hey, free barbecue at the end with your trophy!

Pix stays around long enough to see the real trophy be put in the Hall of Zedvancements, and holds onto his own copy. This really does belong in a museum.

Sausage

Speaking of History, The King of Hermycraf spends his week getting his affairs in order. Namely, passing the ownership of his Crastle to Zombiecleo, should he ever leave the server and be unable to return.

[CLEO] Right, right

[SAUSAGE] Yeah

[CLEO] Sausage.

[SAUSAGE] I got it. I will sign this.

[CLEO] Just…

[SAUSAGE, READING ALOUD] I, MythicalSausage, hereby give the Crastle to ZombieCleo in the event I leave the server.

[SAUSAGE] Ok perfect, I will sign this.

[CLEO] Just sign the book, close it

[CUB] I think that’s—

[CLEO] And it’s legally binding!

[CUB AND JOE IN THE BACKGROUND]

[CLEO] I feel like this is gonna backfire

[SAUSAGE] And done! Legally binding contract in the event I leave and- and unable to return! With lore.

[NARRATOR] News travels quickly around the server, and so Sausage gets a little lost looking for the Perimeter so he can pet the dragon! Luckily Gem gives him directions and Sausage is astounded by the size of the place, let alone the dragon!

Dragons aren’t the only thing on his mind though! It’s nearly Christmas time and his Secret Santa has delivered! Cubfan has gifted Sausage a kaleidoscope of color and it certainly is an explosion!

[SAUSAGE] Can I die in there?

[TOTEM POPPING NOISE]

[SAUSAGE] AH!

[SAUSAGE] OK its fine! No, I don’t want to die! I’m good!

[NARRATOR] After baiting Grian to check out the present he left for Scar last week, he and hOtGuy decide to burn Jimmy's house. Nothing like arson to warm you up in a snowy mountain.

Around Pearl's area, he finds the spot she reserved for him. Sausage jumps into a timelapse to build a funky observatory while being observed by funky aliens.

He decides he wants a way to communicate with Pearl when he goes home, so he visits Sanctuary for materials. He discovers the portal is shrinking, so an inter-dimensional communicator is definitely in order. He gathers his materials from Sanctuary, checking on Hermes while he’s there, and brings back the essence of Sanctuary. Mixing his head and Pearl’s head with the essence of Sanctuary turns out to create a robot named Sunny, placed outside his observatory. He's very cute.

Joel

Sunny isn’t the only new kid on the block this week; Joel is back to his childmaking ways, and this week, he has two new children after a mistletoe incident with Oli and the ensuing forced marriage. Mandy Mane and Rat Ruck soon disappear, but Joel seems to have bigger concerns: his furry arc has ended after his carved pumpkin cat ears have returned to their original form.

[SCOTT] You placed your cat ears?

[GENERAL SOUNDS OF SADNESS]

[JOEL] AAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[NARRATOR] Luckily, Joel's Secret Santa has arrived with a scavenger hunt to distract him from his loss. Starting from the Christmas Village, he is led to the ufo at the spawn village, then to Scarland, where he gets a surprise. He then arrives at the rift in search of his present, only to find an empty present box that had already been opened by Grian. Joel tracks Grian down, and after some searching, recovers the raw gold from his present.

Their conversation then turns to the shrinking rift portal, and they decide that it may be best to let the other empires know it's time to head home.

[JOEL] Maybe… Ill go tell all the other emperors that, maybe that’s a sign.

[NARRATOR] Before he leaves Hermitcraft though, Joel needs to finish the Empire's Christmas tree, and decorate it. While decorating, Sausage drops by to help out, and discuss the rift.

[JOEL] Lovely, lovely jubbly,

[SAUSAGE] I like it!

[JOEL] As we say in England.

[SAUSAGE] That’s what they do say in England, yes! I’ve heard..

[JOEL] You’ve heard, yeah.

[SAUSAGE] Rumours! Yes. And---

[VERY LOUD BEEP]

[JOEL] …Ok well that’s not going—

[BOTH LAUGH]

[NARRATOR] Tree finished, Joel returns home through the rift to Empires, and flies back to his beloved Stratos.

Scott

Stratos’s next door neighbor Scott Smajor is making the most out of Hermitcraft, and it hasn’t stopped him from making everywhere he lives cute! Scott gives a tour of his new Scarland apartment, including the under-the-stairs room for Jimmy!

Now it’s time for an adventure at spawn, since there’s apparently an Empires Christmas village and a Secret Santa for Scott to get involved in!

Scott’s Secret Santa is Joel and - finding a Christmas hat along the way - he decides to do a scavenger hunt! Each of the clues are hidden around the server, and in the end Joel gets… coal. And some raw gold, but mostly coal.

Gem takes a visit to Scarland and Scott takes her around his new apartment, before she declares she needs to murder him.

[GEM] Oh I love it, you’ll have to come see my house at some point! This is awesome!

[SCOTT] Yeah!

[GEM] Ah.

[NARRATOR] Scott allows her to murder him as he wants one of his own heads to hand in for Cleo’s statue project in the Christmas Village, before Gem offers to let him see the head room in her base!

Not to pass up an opportunity, Scott asks to be put pride of place in the ceiling cage of the dungeon.

[SCOTT] Scott in a cage, what will he do! Wait, that feels oddly familiar…

[GEM] Nothing, he’ll do nothing, he’s trapped there now. That’s all.

[SCOTT] Me and you in a dungeon, feels oddly familiar Gem.

[NARRATOR] Gem’s base may not have much of an interior besides the dungeon, but she does have diamond decor that Scott tries to steal and he also breaks a window on his way out.

Remember that under-the-stairs room for Jimmy? Well that was made as Jimmy had left a sign trying to claim Scott’s apartment for his own - Scott, of course, decides if he gives Jimmy his own room he’ll stop trying to claim the whole apartment.

He’s right.

When Jimmy and some visitors come over Jimmy is delighted to learn of his new, fully-furnished room in Scarland under the stairs.

[JIMMY] It’s even got my head! Wait, how did you get my head? Wait.

[SCOTT] Don’t ask questions about that.

[NARRATOR] Some more highlights included from the big stream night is Scott getting his very own hotguy bow, and Oli dying.

Meanwhile, in Chromia…

[BIRDS CHIRP]

[LLAMA NOISE]

[LOUD WOOSHING NOISE]

Jimmy

The opposition rises to Scott’s new apartment as Jimmy begins his week in Scarland where he has been arguing over the prime real estate. However, the two have reconciled and agreed to share the apartment as Jimmy discovered Scott built him a room in the building.

After a brief tour of the Empires Christmas base, Jimmy is presented with his Secret Santa. The Secret Santa in question is Oli, whose extravagant nature is not missed by Jimmy as he receives two discs from the ‘Olipod’ which plays Christmas music specially curated for the Sheriff.

[THE FIRST BARS OF “THE REAL SLIM SHADY” BY EMINEM PLAY]

[JIMMY LAUGHS]

[RECORDING OLI] May I have your attention please. May I have your attention please. Will the real sheriff please stand up.

[JIMMY] Yeah I’ll stand, I’ll stand!

[OLI] He’s standing! He’s standing!

[RECORDING OLI] Will the real sheriff please stand up.

[NARRATOR] Jimmy’s ears are also blessed by an improv song from Oli and Sausage about Mumbo.

Turns out while everyone was having a great time singing Christmas carols, Scott and Joel knew the rift was slowly closing and headed back to Empires. Except, they forgot to tell everyone else and now the portal is only one block wide. Jimmy’s solution to all this is to stay on Hermitcraft but alas, that is impossible.

The Sheriff’s week concludes by drinking his last festive beverage on Hermitcraft, saying goodbye to his new Hermit friends, and hopping back through the rift to Empires. After that ordeal, Jimmy is back to his original form - he’s a small toy again.

Outro

And with that, join us next week for more chaos and shenanigans! Thank you for watching, liking, and subscribing, and thanks to everyone helping with the project, check them all out below!

[trademarkhubris]

kind of undecided abt where to go from where i am in this game, i have full netherite and access to potions so i could try to fight the milf then go for elytra, a few shulkers, and an end experience farm, or i could go to various ocean monuments to gather sponges, or travel a bunch to find a warm ocean to build tnt dupers to do the perimeter i want ...

[findingjoynweirdstuff]

Dream SMP Recap (April 18/2021) - Skeppy and the Egg

With only a week left to prepare for the Red Banquet, Bad takes a trip down to the Egg and ends up in a tense confrontation with Skeppy.

A brief summary of the week’s total events can be found at the end of the post.

---

VOD LINKS:

HBomb94

Foolish

Badboyhalo

Captain Puffy

---

- HBomb hosts Niki, Puffy and Hannah’s episode of L’Cast!

- Bad rows to shore in a boat. He gets out near Fundy’s base.

- He examines the server, remarking on how the Blood Vines are gone. It’s all in preparation. One week from today will be the Red Banquet.

- Quackity has been causing nothing but problems. Meanwhile, the Egg Room has been renovated with Nether brick walls. The plants have been growing nicely, and a dance floor has been prepared.

- Bad looks at the dining area. There are many chairs, but Bad isn’t sure if there will be enough seats for everyone.

- The Egg whispers to him.

“I will give you your heart’s desire. I will give you what you want.”

Bad: “I know. You don’t have to say it anymore, I know!” 

- Bad walks over to the Egg and notices Skeppy there. Skeppy tells him that he wants to be near the Egg. Bad says he worries about him, but Skeppy says he’s fine and to leave him alone.

- Bad tries to convince him to go on a walk. Skeppy tells him that there’s nothing he can say to change his mind. He’s staying with the Egg.

Bad: “I mean I...All of this, all of this is for him...and it’s so frustrating. I just -- I know that Egg, it’s not evil, and everybody’s just misunderstanding it, and I know -- at the Banquet, we’re gonna show them! We’re gonna show everybody exactly what the Egg is all about, and exactly what the Egg wants, they’re gonna see it for themselves. Everybody’s gonna see it...but I just don’t like how much time he spends by it now. He literally just hangs out by it. I mean -- if it wasn’t for Skeppy, it probably wouldn’t have even survived that explosion...Oh my goodness...he was able to repair it.”

- As Bad talks, he watches Skeppy fiddling with the Egg’s surface. The Egg whispers again.

“I will give you your heart’s desire. I will give you what you want.”

- Skeppy asks why Bad is still talking to him. Bad reluctantly leaves to look at the decorations again. Skeppy tells him that no one has entered or left the premises.

- Bad reminds Skeppy of the statues he built for him. Bad says he thinks it looked a little better before...Skeppy asks what it’ll take to get Bad to stop talking to him.

- Bad tells Skeppy he found something wrong on the perimeter. Skeppy says nothing could possibly be wrong, but Bad insists they do one last walk around. He says if they go for a walk, he’ll stop bothering Skeppy.

- The Egg starts to whisper, but Bad tells it to stop and the Egg goes quiet before it can say anything.

- They start walking. Bad says that no dancing is actually going to take place, it’s just for show. He shows Skeppy the table too, but Skeppy gets impatient.

Skeppy: “What’s the mistake? I feel like you’re manipulating and lying to me right now.”

- He shows Skeppy a wall. Skeppy says the wall is “crisp and perfect,” and nothing is wrong with it. He goes back to the Egg.

- Skeppy says he invites Bad to get on the Egg. He gets Bad to stand on it. Skeppy asks if Bad feels good. Bad says he does, but Skeppy insists.

- The Egg starts talking and Bad tells it to shut up again. 

“Nourishment...”

Bad: “Quiet! You muffinhead.”

- Skeppy asks why he keeps doing that. Bad snaps and says he doesn’t like how Skeppy’s been acting lately. 

Bad: “It’s not about power! It’s not about control! I’m your FRIEND, Skeppy!”

Skeppy: “I mean...you can think that.”

Bad: “...What do you mean?”

Skeppy: “I mean, what do you want?”

Bad: “No, what did you just say? You said ‘you can think that,’ what do you mean?!”

Skeppy: “You can think whatever you want in your silly little mind, okay? It doesn’t matter to me.”

Bad: “No, we’re friends, right?”

Skeppy: “Sure.”

Bad: “Sure?! That’s it?”

Skeppy: “You can call it whatever you want, alright? In your head, we can be best friends, okay? We can be friends for life. Just leave. Me. Alone.” 

...

Skeppy: “It’s up to you, ultimately, because I can’t change your mind. So stop trying to change mine.”

- Bad is furious. Is the Egg Skeppy’s friend now, the only thing he hangs out with?

Skeppy: "The Egg is more than just a friend. The Egg is life itself.”

- Skeppy tells him he doesn’t expect Bad to understand the feeling within. 

Bad: “I...I have done so much, because I did for...for you! For our friendship! And now you’re trying to tell me that we’re not friends anymore?”

Skeppy: “Did I say that?”

Bad:  “No, but you’re saying you’d rather spend time with this Egg!”

Skeppy: “I’m not saying it, I’ve been proving it.”

- Bad and Skeppy start arguing and yelling at each other.  Bad says he’s done so much, sacrificed so much to protect Skeppy from the other people on the server.

Skeppy: “You left me for a long, long, long time before you even checked up on me, okay? And now, all of a sudden, you care about me? All of a sudden we’re best friends and all you have is my best interest? I don’t think so!”

Skeppy: “The past doesn’t matter. It’s only about the future and the present. And right now, I know what I want.”

- Skeppy goes back to the Egg. 

Bad: “Skeppy...I just wanted us to hang out like we used to.”

Skeppy: “Yeah, well...Times change. So do people. So get used to it.”

Bad: “I just -- I did this all for you and I didn’t want the Egg to take that away.”

Skeppy: “Do you hear how selfish that is? You are trying to take away what I enjoy, and what I like, for your own benefit? Do you realize how selfish that is of you? you don’t actually care about me! Stop hitting me! That is the definition of selfish!”

Bad: “YOU TAKE THAT BACK. Skeppy, if you have any idea of what I have done, and you calling it selfish?!”

...

Bad: “I...I want an apology. I don’t want you to call ALL the sacrifices that I made for you selfish! Take that back, right now! Apologize!”

Skeppy: “They were ALL selfish, and they were all for your own benefit! You didn’t even consider letting me spend a little bit! Just a little bit of time with the Egg! That was completely cut out!”

Bad starts shaking. 

“IT’S JUST A STUPID EGG, SKEPPY!”

- He pushes Skeppy into the lava and Skeppy dies. Bad screams, horrified.

Bad: “Skeppy, wait! No! I’m sorry! Skeppy no! ...What happened? What did I do?”

The screen goes black.

--- ---

CANON DEATH: SKEPPY

Cause: Pushed into lava by Badboyhalo

--- ---

Skeppy: “Bad? Bad? Bad...Bad, answer me!”

- Skeppy is blue. He’s standing in a wooden house, calling for Bad.

- The view pans around. Skeppy is standing in front of a white bed. He quietly asks for Bad to answer him.

- The view zooms out, exiting through the door marked as Bones and Skeppy’s house.

It’s Big Daddy Island.

The screen cuts to black again.

- Bad visits Puffy at the mansion.

- Bad asks if Puffy’s excited for the Banquet. He sounds saddened. Bad tells her Skeppy died, though. He fell into lava. “Gravity killed him.”

- Puffy asks if Skeppy was shoved.

- They argue about whether gravity would be the killer if Puffy pushes Bad off a roof. Puffy does so and then tridents, accidentally falling to her death.

- Bad talks to Puffy about how he and Skeppy got into an argument because Skeppy kept doing nothing but sitting on an Egg despite all that Bad did for him. Then Skeppy slipped and fell into lava.

- Puffy asks if this means the Egg that Bad loves so much killed Skeppy.

- No matter what, the Banquet has to happen. Bad says he’ll cover the lava up. Puffy will still attend, but the gravity of the situation has changed.

Puffy: “There’s going to be no accidental deaths?”

Bad: “No...”

Puffy: “There was hesitation there.”

Bad: “No accidental deaths.”

- Puffy writes the death report.

Puffy: “Friends aren’t forever but that dump truck sure is.”

- They switch out of canon as Skeppy comes over to hang out.

- Puffy suggests that Bad and Skeppy get a room. To play chess in. They go inside of the Rat statue to play chess. They play Battleship? And then chess but with their minds.

- There’s a lot of interesting talk in the Rat statue.

- After a lot more banter, Skeppy logs off with Mr. Pointy. Puffy says she should start charging for couple’s therapy.

- Skeppy logs on and they get into a chase. He falls and dies and Puffy retrieves Mr. Pointy.

- Bad and Skeppy start bargaining for it from Puffy.

- Bad, Skeppy, Puffy and Sam all hang out together

Upcoming Events:

- Ranboo’s lore stream (April 23rd)

- The Red Banquet (April 24th)

- Dream SMP one-year anniversary (April 24th/25th)

- Tales From the SMP: “Space Race”

- Dream’s lore video

END OF WEEK RECAP:

4/12 - Quackity recounts the events leading up to his visit with Dream

4/13 - Nothing much happens.

4/14 - Foolish hires HBomb to be his maid.

4/15 - Nothing much happens.

4/16 - Nothing much happens.

4/17 - Hannah goes sleepwalking

4/18 - Bad and Skeppy fight, Bad kills Skeppy

[stuff-from-the-void-matron]

Laurel Wreaths & Animal Teeth (11)

(c!technoblade x fem!reader)

(people showed chapter 10 some nice love so here’s chapter 11. sorry it took so long to get out. I threw my back out and doing just about anything has been physical torture. but I’m starting to feel better so here’s hoping I’ll write more soon. but remember, please comment and reblog. they keep me motivated! <3)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Things settled down pretty well after the election. Almost unbelievably so. Wilbur pretty much completely disappeared afterwards. You felt worried and voiced your concerns with Niki, saying you hoped he wasn’t terribly upset he’d lost the election. You understand he no doubt felt incredibly attached to the title of president, and he may feel resentful of you for ‘stealing’ it from him. Niki smiled at you, glad you were being kinder about this than the other contestants would be in your shoes, but sighed and said,

“Yeah, he’ll probably be upset for a while. But I’m sure he’ll come around to accept you as the new president.”

You gave her a thankful smile, even if you didn’t quite believe her words. But then you paused and wondered if maybe, despite all your reservations about the brunet man, it was possible to smooth things over with him? Maybe all you needed to do was sit and have a talk with him. Perhaps he’d gone insane in the original timeline because both Schlatt and Quackity were… well, for lack of a nicer term, total dicks to him. They were openly antagonistic to the former president, banishing him and his younger brother from the very nation they fought and died for, which no doubt added to his crumbling mental state after L’manberg chose a new leader.

But maybe you could be different from Schlatt and Quackity. Honestly you had no desire to be cruel to Wilbur, though you would not put up with any of his BS, and honestly you hoped to have a neutral relationship with the man. So you decided right then that there was no harm in trying. Your smile brightened and you nodded and said to the blonde woman,

“You’re probably right, he just needs some time. Maybe after a few days he and I can have lunch and just talk. Clear the air between us. I’ve never been president before so I’m sure he’d be a great help in getting me better settled in!”

Niki was super glad you were being so chill about all of this. She knew you were the best choice for president. That’s probably why she’d voted for you. (yeah she’d heard your little speech and was really moved) But she’d never tell Wilbur that. He fully believed she’d voted for Coconut2020, and to be fair she had intended to until she was so moved by your speech. You had a way with words that just put the listener at ease.

“Yeah, I’m sure things will be alright,” Niki replied with a cheerful smile.

-0-

You settled into being president pretty well all things considered. There wasn’t as much work as you were expecting there to be for a president. But perhaps your only frame of reference (the US president) was a bit different than your current job (l’manberg president). L’manberg was super small actually. Especially compared to the United States. Hell, Punz’ house was almost as big as L’manberg if you remember right. 

You’re glad there wasn’t much presidential work to do at that moment. Because you wouldn’t have had time to juggle that work plus going back to your village and packing up some of your stuff in your ender chest before telling the villagers (and azo) what actually happened while you were gone. Which had been an ordeal in itself. You felt bad for just leaving to a new place so out of the blue. But you felt obligated to complete the role of president given to you. You’d feel less obligated if there was some other option you felt safe passing the torch to. Someone not a child. That left out every minor on this server and Wilbur. 

Part of you considered Fundy and Niki for the job but another part of you doubted if they’d be able to handle it. Honestly they shouldn’t have to either. It’s no secret that being president is one of the most stressful jobs a person can have. Being in charge of the safety and well-being of a group of people is enough to turn anyone’s hair grey. Even if the group was just like 10 or so people like L’manberg had. You remember seeing a post about pictures at the start and end of American presidents’ time in office. And each president looked at least a decade older in each after picture. Complete with wrinkles and grey hair. Those happened in FOUR years! Their jobs were so stressful that they aged 10+ years in only 4 years.

You were pulled from your thoughts by Tommy practically shouting “We’re here!!” as you all made it over the hill that led to your village. The first thing you saw was the towering bamboo wall around the perimeter of the place. You’d been so in your own head that you’d actually forgotten about the two boys on either side of you. They’d insisted they accompany you to your village as ‘presidential bodyguards’ despite the fact you said you would be fine. They’d practically demanded to go, to ensure the ‘new prez’ didn’t get attacked on the journey. Amused and touched that they cared, you’d finally relented and let them come along. You’d only be gone a short while anyways. At least that’s what you told yourself. 

It didn’t take long to pack up everything you wanted to take with you to L’manberg. You put all the nice gifts the villagers gave you (as well as a couple of the banners you made) and some of the stuff you made and packed it away into a shulker box you pulled from the Creative inventory before picking up said box and putting it inside your ender chest. Then you just picked that chest up and tucked it safely in your inventory and you were basically done. With packing anyways.. You still had to talk to the villagers and let them know you had to move away for a while. But you doubted they’d be heartbroken or anything. Maybe bummed out but they’d understand. It’s not like they’d be lost without you. They’d been living in this world long before you showed up and they’d probably be here long after you left.

Then you were ringing the village bell. And like every time you did the villagers all poked their heads out from wherever they were to see who rang it and what was going on. And when they saw you they brightened and hurried over to see what was happening. They gathered around you and the bell, murmuring curiously between themselves. You sighed and cleared your throat, gathering their attention to you before you hesitated, not entirely sure what to say. Should you explain the entire story from start to finish? No, probably not. That would take a while and you felt like they’d get bored fast. But just blurting out that you were leaving felt too abrupt and blunt. Though your indecision ended up not mattering because Tubbo finally lost patience with the silence and just let the metaphorical cat out of the bag in his usual laid back candid way.

“Are you gonna tell them you’re moving away?”

Oh that caught the villagers’ attention and suddenly you were surrounded by displeased grunts and hums, like surround sound stereos. You sighed and confirmed yes, you were. So with the news out there you started explaining what happened the day before, or at least a shortened version of it. You mentioned how you’d gone to support Tommy, placing a hand on his shoulder as you said this. Then you said how you’d sorta advised everyone to vote for who they felt would lead them smartly, and how you guess they took that as you entering the presidential ring.. And finally how you’d won the election by some points and how you’d not wanted to reject their trust so you’d accepted the job…

“Reader is our new president!!” Tommy practically shouted, clearly excited. 

Though from the disgruntled murmurs from the villagers they didn’t seem happy.. But you told them it would be okay. You’d come and visit them as often as you could while juggling your new job. But even with that promise they didn’t seem happy. Your shoulders slumped a bit and without thinking you said,

“I’m not happy about having to leave the village and move away either. But I made a promise to the people of L’manberg, one I intend to keep.” 

Despite not feeling the best about this you were determined to keep your word.

“Besides, it’s not like I can just pack up the village and move you all next to L’manberg!” you said with a flippant wave of your hand.

But the idea didn’t sound too bad to the villagers. They basically worshipped you as their guardian deity. So if loading up all their possessions and hauling them to a new place meant they got to stay within reach of their deity then so be it. They’d still be living in squalor if it hadn’t been for your kindness and generosity, so they wanted to follow you wherever you went. Be it sunny skies, harsh rain, freezing snow. 

So they all made excited grunts and you blinked at them, catching on to their train of thought pretty fast. You shook your head, missing the confused looks the two teen boys were shooting between you and the villagers, and said they couldn’t follow you to L’manberg. Hearing this made the boys’ eyebrows shoot up and they started asking if the villagers wanted to come live in L’manberg. You sighed and said they seemed to, yes, but it wasn’t viable because there was nowhere for them to live! Moving them all on a spur of the moment thing would be reckless. Not only would the journey be very hard on them and take quite a while but there’s also no homes available for them in L’manberg. 

“We could make some houses for them if they want to move to L’manberg!” Tubbo said with a little grin, not seeing the issue with them coming over.

You rubbed a hand down your face, careful not to jostle your mask too much. But then you sighed and finally caved in. 

“Okay, you can all move next to L’manberg,” you began, but before they could cheer you cut them off with, “BUT! They can’t leave today. I refuse to let them take the whole long journey to L’manberg just so they can be homeless when they get there.”

You said you and some others (who you would pay) would build a new village next door to L’manberg for them. And once it was complete you would come back and help ferry them all over safely. But you might have to take them over in small groups to avoid hostile mobs and stuff. Though despite all the risks the villagers seemed quite happy with everything. So you pulled out your notebook, the same one you’d used when you first showed up to the village actually, and made a note to start construction on a new village to either the North or East of L’manberg. Or whatever side had better building room. But now that that all was settled you bid the villagers goodbye, saying you’d start construction as soon as possible.

With that out of the way you decided to pay a visit to Azo. You missed the adorable little piglin and hoped she was doing okay. Your boys followed you into the Nether, asking what you needed from there so badly. That made you pause and realize they’d never officially met Azo! You smiled down at them and said you’d sort of taken up guardianship of a little piglin girl who lost her parents. You’d expected questions and some comments but got nothing but silence in return, which left you feeling a bit confused. But when you glanced over at the boys you saw Tubbo looking lost in thought and Tommy looking mildly upset. This caused you to stop short, which made them pause and look back at you. 

“What’s wrong?” you couldn’t help but ask.

But they both waved you off, Tubbo with a soft ‘what do you mean?’ and Tommy with an almost harsh sounding  ‘nothing’, both of which didn’t sound the least bit convincing. So you tilted your head to the side and in a firmer (but still gentle) tone you asked again what was wrong. Tommy’s nose scrunched up and he crossed his arms, adamantly saying nothing and asking if you all could hurry up and see ‘this kid’ since you had to hurry back to L’manberg. Tubbo tried to piggyback off Tommy, his smile attempting to be brighter as he agreed, saying he wanted to meet your ‘new kid’. That’s when it hit you..

“Are you two upset that I adopted a kid?”

Tommy wasn’t very subtle with his feelings, his loud “WHAT?! NO!” didn’t convince you of his supposed ‘uncaring’ regarding the situation. Tubbo however reacted slower than his friend, like he was processing what you’d asked before he gave a laugh that sounded too stilted to be genuine and denied being upset, saying that was ridiculous. Tommy actually started walking away, heading in the direction you three had followed when you were together here last time, with the goatish brunet watching him anxiously. But you called for him to stop and come back, maybe a touch sterner than you’d wanted. But when the blond came back to you he refused to look at you, just scowling down at his feet. You felt your heart ache at the sight and let out a calm breath.

You wrapped one arm around the blond’s shoulders and the other around his back, pulling him into a comforting hug. You laid your cheek on the top of his mop of hair, glancing down at Tubbo who was shifting between watching you both and glancing away nervously. Without much thought you removed the hand holding Tommy’s back and instead used it to carefully tug the brunet boy into the hug. They just stood there at first, still and awkward almost. But once Tubbo wrapped his arms around your hips and Tommy’s back his blond friend quickly caved and sunk into your warmth, wrapping his arms around you both tightly, like he was afraid you’d both disappear. 

You took a breath and gently began to rock the two back and forth, missing how Tommy’s eyes pricked with hot tears as he heard your steady heartbeat against his ear. After a couple minutes of just standing there relaxed into the hug you said quietly but with as much emotion as you could put into it,

“Tommy, Tubbo, please talk to me. I can do many things, but reading minds is not one of them.”

You felt your shirt become warm and you frowned and hugged them tighter,

“If something is bothering you two, if you’re sad or upset or angry then you need to tell me so I can maybe do something to make you feel better. I never wanna see either of you upset, so please… talk to me?”

The air around you three was unintentionally heavy, only the sound of fire crackling nearby broke up the silence. It was killing you to remain quiet but you didn’t want to push them to speak. That would just make them clam up and possibly push you away. So you waited, just holding and rocking them as you did. And your eyes brightened when your patience was rewarded.

“.... Why’d you have to go and get a kid?”

You half expected for Tommy to be the one to break the silence, he was always so against the quiet. But no, instead it had been Tubbo who finally buckled and voiced his thoughts. You couldn’t help but ask what he meant. And he sort of stuttered over his words, not sounding exactly sure what he wanted to say before he got his thoughts and mouth to cooperate.

“I thought you already-.. I mean you have us.. Why’d you-..”

If your heart could physically break like glass then you knew after hearing that it would be in a hundred pieces on the floor. You couldn’t help but pull them closer and bury your face between theirs, unknowingly letting out a softened keening sound. 

“I want you both to listen, just because I take another child under my wing doesn’t mean I no longer care about you two. I don’t think I could ever stop caring about you. You’re my boys, and I-....” here is where you hesitated, not wanting so sound weird but you continued,

“If you both want… I mean since neither of you have one to my knowledge… I’d happily be your mom.”

Shy isn’t exactly how you’d describe the two boys you’d begun to care for, but there was no other word accurate enough to describe how they agreed to your offer to be their mom. Tubbo gave an almost meek, “alright, sure” while holding onto your waist and Tommy gave a long-suffering sigh while trying to discreetly wipe his eyes and said, “I guess you’re cool enough to be my mum. Barely though.” That caused you to let out a loud guffaw, your grip on them loosening enough to where you could ruffle the blond’s hair.

“Ohhhhh, Big man himself thinks I’M cool? Very high praise~”

The heavy atmosphere lightened and your laughter had the two boys laughing too. But then a sly grin took over your face and you chuckled. The sound alerted the boys of your mischievous mood and they looked up when you started talking.

“Well, now that you’ve accepted me as your mom I’m legally obligated to do all sorts of ‘Mom Stuff’, I hope you realize that. Like making sure you both eat things besides bread and meat, make sure you sleep regularly, and do the spit thing when you’ve got dirt on your face.”

They gave you a look that was a mixture of confusion and mild disgust, and Tommy couldn’t help but blurt out,

“What the fuck do you mean by ‘spit thing’??”

Unbeknownst to him, he’d activated your Mom Trap Card and your grin grew into a smirk and you raised your hand, casually commenting that he seemed to have a bit of dirt on his cheek, and then you licked your thumb and moved it towards his face. He shrieked and practically threw himself backwards to avoid your spit covered finger. But you still had your arm around his shoulders so he didn’t get far. He rapidly screamed out a verbal blur of ‘nonononoNONONO!’ that had Tubbo nearly doubling over, howling with laughter.

Though his laughter abruptly cut off with a gasp when Tommy escaped your hold, causing you to turn your sights on him. He let out a noise that sounded suspiciously like the bleat of a goat before turning and running from you. You just cackled and chased after him, your longer legs giving you the advantage. You caught up with him before he knew it and lifted him in a backwards hug. Now it was Tommy’s turn to laugh at Tubbo.

But you did let him down, without cleaning his face, and smiled down at the pair and said sincerely,

“All joking aside… I think you two would make a cool pair of big brothers..”

Tommy took that and ran with it, saying of COURSE he would be! He was practically Tubbo’s big brother already! Which just caused Tubbo to argue with him that uh, NO, he was older than Tommy! So HE was the older brother out of the two of them, if anything! And oh boy that caused them both to go back and forth, arguing about who was the ‘older brother’ between them. Tubbo insisted it was him because he was born first but Tommy insisted it was him because he was taller. You just shook your head and led the bickering duo down the familiar path to Azo’s little ‘house’ you built her. And as you reached the open area you saw her outside the house playing with a couple other baby piglins. But when she looked up and saw you she squealed happily and all but sprinted over to you. You made sure to bend down and hold your hands out to catch her. 

She was so excited to see you again that she totally missed the two boys standing at your sides. At least until she heard them and then she stiffened and stared down at Tubbo from her place in your arms. Neither boy really knew what to say so you decided to intervene and put out introductions. You tapped her hand and smiled down at her, helping her worry ease a bit.

“Azo, I missed you! I want to introduce you to my sons! This,” you gestured to Tubbo, “is Tubbo. And this,” you turned your head and pointed to the blond on the other side, “is Tommy. They’re both very nice. And they wanted to meet you!”

You turned so you and Azo were both facing the boys and saw them smiling genuinely. Relief flooded you, thinking they were actually glad to meet the little piglin, unaware the smiles were more stemming from the fact you’d called them your sons so easily.

But you saw the wariness still on Azo’s face and worried she’d not like her new brothers. Suddenly you got a bright idea and your smile widened as you spoke up and said, 

“Hey, don’t you two have a gift for Azo? Maybe something yellow and shiny~?”

Tubbo’s mouth dropped down into an ‘o’ as he realized what you meant. Then he elbowed Tommy and then pulled open his inventory and started looking through it. Tommy glared at him, moving his arm away after getting jabbed, but then his eyebrows raised when he saw his best friend pull out a gold ingot from his inventory. Then he understood what you meant and hurried to look through his inventory as well. Thankfully he did have some gold ingots leftover from when he was crafting golden apples.

Azo perked up when she saw the gold ingot Tubbo had taken from his inventory. And when he offered it to her she couldn’t hold back the happy snort she let out as she joyfully accepted it. You giggled at how she admired the saffron colored bar. And when Tommy extended his own gold ingot you laughed when Azo’s little tail began to swish back and forth in glee as she took that one too. She looked so cute as she admired her new items. You rubbed her back and said,

“See? They’re pretty nice, right? Why don’t we go have something to eat? And we can hang out.”

The tiny piglin seemed more than happy with that plan and snorted happily. You carried her towards the house, her little friends having long since scurried off. The teens behind you followed your lead, joining you in the house. You sat Azo down and suggested she show off her toys to Tubbo and Tommy, which she started doing gladly. The two played with her while you brewed some tea and crafted some cookies. Chilled rosehip tea and shortbread cookies were on the menu and after it was all done you laid it out on the table before calling them over. The boys were all too happy for the chilly drink, the cold giving them reprieve from the heat of the Nether. But Azo was shocked by the cold, not having experienced something like this before. It took a bit of explanation to get her to give it a try, and despite how it made her shiver she seemed to really like it. And cookies were always popular. So the plate was emptied in a flash.

As you sat with the three, listening to Tommy brag to Azo about how ‘cool and tough’ he was and how he’s practically a hero in the Overworld while Tubbo interjected with contradictions, you felt yourself smile serenely; truly happy where you were right then.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@lady-bee-fechin @kacchasu @putridjoy @lunawritesstories @galaxypankitty3030 @paradigmax @zachariethememerie @killmewithafanfic @trinity-1002107 @hufflepuff-demigod @truthdaze @exorcisms-with-elmo @redbloodtea @heythereimhaylz @olyink @jackalopedoodles @nikkineeky @artsimatsu @hufflepuff-demigod @corpiet @beepa99 @anxiousnarwhale @bananaaddictmilkshake @realitycanbeajerk @lostandsouciant @thegeekisheere @sparkling-gayyy @woman-soot @xxtwizztedxx @v10dw4lk3r

[spvce-cowboy]

songbird

ch. 4 of i’ll be here in the morning (the mandalorian x fem!reader)

previous-ch. 3: “reunion”

next-ch. 5: “the hero’s shoulders”

rating: mature

11.3k words

warnings: PERIL!!!, violence, alcohol and drug use, jealous/protective mando

a/n: apologies in advance for the slight cliffhanger—this chapter got WAAAYY too long so I had to split in two. luckily means I’ll be able to get the next one out to you all asap ! <3

summary: you are forced to go undercover in order to help Mando capture his next quarry, the lionized Tyreus Cavill. 

**

You’re most nervous about remembering the proper steps to a waltz. You know, instead of being worried about aiding one of the deadliest bounty hunters in the galaxy on his highest profile mission yet. Because that totally makes sense, right?

At the Estate, you and Febhana were taught dancing in order to entertain the Lord’s guests. Digging up any memories from that period of your life is enough to have the taste bile flood your mouth. You do your best to swallow it down, keeping a cool face for your sake and everyone else’s.

Honestly, you’d trade being afraid of the known over the unknown any day. The anxiety of remembering your time at the Estate was more familiar, something you could deal with, and have been for years now.

Thinking too hard about the severity of the current situation, about how you had absolutely no idea what you were doing, that was the kind of fear you avoid at all possible cost. So you settle for being nervous about a waltz, nothing more and nothing less.

Mando is seated beside the driver. He doesn’t turn back to address you and Febhana directly, instead tilting his head slightly in order to look at the two of you through the rearview mirror. Before the three of you left, he gave you a small listening device that you now have tucked against the edge of the undergarments you have on. The dress is too exposing to hide it anywhere else.

He debriefs you on the specifics of the mission the entire ride there, showing you multiple images of the quarry, plans of action, a blur of different scenarios and how you should react that you have already quickly forgotten in the haze of your building anxiety.

“The main rule is no secondary locations,” he concludes. “We can’t risk either of you being alone with him. It’s too unstable of a situation as is.”

You nod, staring at him through his partial reflection. From the back of your mind there’s a quiet glimmer of endearment, how you’ve never seen him this thorough about a hunt—Mando seems more like a wing-it-and-figure-it-out-from-there kind of guy. You’re not sure if you’re getting special treatment because he doesn’t like involving someone like you in his job or because this quarry is too valuable of a target to botch. The former doesn’t add to your anxiety, so you run with that.

You tear your eyes from the mirror when Febhana digs through her purse and plops a set of papers in your lap. You examine them closely, trying to bring the little details to memory as best you could.

“Is that even a real name?” You ask, face screwed up slightly, pointing where it’s listed on the fake ID.

Febhana cranes her neck over your shoulder, looking down at the papers with you. “Sophste Wilkbail? Sure, sounds like a poet or something. You can play that up.”

From the front seat, Mando gives a sardonic huff of air. It’s such a cruel sound you can practically visualize the scowl he’s put behind it. Febhana rolls her eyes.

“Listen, darling, believability is just about the last thing we need to worry about, right now,” Febhana settles back into her side of the speeder’s velveteen cabin. “Hiding who you are is more important. As soon as we get past the guards it’ll be easy. Just try your best to pretend like this is any other party.”

You neglect to tell her that you have not been to any parties besides the ones at the Estate. Instead, you nod, training your gaze out the front windshield.

The driver lights another cigarette as he pulls the speeder into a line of idling vehicles that border the streets outside the Tagge mansion. You can tell that you’ve arrived by the bright lights and banners flooding from the building’s open face, an intimidating amount of guards tucked away at every discernible outpost. You drum your fingers against your knee to the song you can faintly hear playing from the radio.

Febhana’s soft hand against your arm breaks you from your reverie. Her words are far more gentle now. “Are you ready?”

You nod. It’s a sharp, curt movement of your head. Steadfast. You’re kind of scared shitless, but determined. She smiles at you, widely, and it’s enough to have you smiling back.

“Let’s get this show on the road, then.”

**

The first thing you are certain of upon entering the Tagge’s mansion is the fact that this isn’t a home. It’s a cathedral. Possibly the biggest, most extravagant place you’ve ever been in.

The entranceway alone is enough to have you clinging to Febhana’s side a little tighter than you had initially intended to. It looks like… it looks like a marble maw, stretched open, fangs bared. You and Febhana follow the tongue-like carpet down the hall in small, measured steps. She takes to ducking her head in greeting to those she recognizes, you  

It only takes a few moments for you to realize the awe you’re feeling is a strange combination of genuine wonder and pure intimidation. You think that’s the point. It doesn’t help with the uneasy feeling that’s situated itself in the cavity of your chest since getting into the car.

“They like to play pretend royalty here, don’t they?” Febhana mutters under her breath, giving a polite smile to a passing guard as she does. “Stars, you’d think they’d try to lay claim to Naboo itself with a place as decked out as this. Tasteless.”

You huff a laugh as she continues to lead you down the main hall. You try to look as dignified as possible, as if environments like this were an everyday occurrence. It’s difficult to do, but with the assurance of her at your side and Mando a few rigid steps behind you, the anxiety pressing from within your chest is somewhat quelled.

The main dancehall is filled with people. Everything—from the tall curtains to the paintings on the walls—is in cool tones of green and gold, interrupted by great expanses of marble. At the far end of the room are two twisting staircases leading to a platform where the band is playing. The ceiling has some kind of intricate mural you desperately want to examine, but when you try to crane your head back Febhana tugs at your arm slightly, reminding you to play it cool.

You square your shoulders as Mando sidesteps to remain pressed against the walls with the other guard droids, the movement a little too fluid for someone who is supposed to be a robot. You pray everyone is too drunk to notice. They are.

With Mando’s presence lost you sink a little further into your anxiousness as Febhana begins introducing you to a flurry of different people. She delicately places a drink in your hands from a passing server, murmuring a word of encouragement in your ear before moving to the next group. It all passes in a blur, but smiling and graciously dipping your head seems to get you through a lot of the interactions without having to actually pay attention.

You quickly realize she is strategically maneuvering her way towards the stage—or, rather, those who are gathered beneath it. There are a collection of small tables lining the perimeter where people are seated if they are not dancing. Below the stage are three larger tables that overlook the entirety of the ballroom. It’s too crowded from where you’re standing to see any of the occupants.

What you really notice, right after taking in what you can of your surroundings, is that there will be no feasible way for you to pull this off. Not here in the Tagge house at least. Every entrance into the private portions of the house are heavily guarded, cameras everywhere. You do your best to swallow the mounting sense of dread, keeping a smile on your face while Febhana continues to lead you through so many introductions all the names and faces blur together.

You tug at Febhana’s arm slightly between introductions to signal your need to speak with her. She eventually pulls you into the cubby of a towering window after disentangling the two of you from another meaningless conversation.

“Febhana,” you lower your voice and maintain small smile on your face to keep prying eyes and ears disinterested. Better safe than sorry. “There’s no way this is going to work. Not here. I’ve counted at least five guards around every possible entrance.”

“I know, I saw,” Febhana takes a deep breath, eyes wandering out the window. “Let’s just… tough it out. See what happens. I don’t really want to get on the Guild’s bad side, or your friend’s for that matter.”

You wince slightly as the idea that this plan could affect her in any way but nod, trying to swallow your guilt in not fully thinking through how much you were asking of her to help you and Mando out like this. You step out of the little alcove and move your way back to the perimeter of the floor.

From this vantage point, you can see one of Febhana friends wander up to the main tables and hug a seated boy in greeting. The contact leans down and says something in the boy’s ear before turning back to glance at where you are standing.

You’re close enough, now, to realize the table the contact just approached is where the Tagge siblings are sitting. The playboys surrounding them have such a loud presence you’re surprised you didn’t notice them earlier.

They’re all practically kids, at least a year or two younger than you, but they act in that way where they knew they were untouchable. They have lived and breathed an entire lifetime of knowing that they are people who could get away with absolutely anything—and have, more than once. It radiates off of every movement they make, from the way they throw their heads back in obnoxious laughter, to the cruel tilt of their mouths as they speak. Everything about them set off some deep-seeded instinct in you to stay away.

Scanning their faces, you recognize the quarry almost instantly.

The photos Mando showed you didn’t do him justice. Tyreus Cavill is wearing a crisp black suit and has skin so pale it’s nearly opalescent. His hair is slicked back close to his scalp, the severe nature of his bone structure combined with some of the darkest eyes you’ve ever seen gives him the appearance of a leering jackal. 

Cavill stares up at the ceiling, tracing the rim of his wineglass with long fingers as the person seated beside him speaks. He looks bored--they all do, a kind of lax slant to their gathered bodies that stands in stark contrast to the tight, aloof postures of most everyone else around them.

You tear your eyes from Cavill as the boy that Febhana’s contact is talking to begins to stand. You look at the new boy evenly from where you’re standing, holding his gaze as confidently as you can, before turning back to where Febhana is standing behind you.

Febhana flashes you a sly look. You can practically see the gears turning in her head as she flicks her eyes in the direction of the Tagge brothers and Cavill. You quickly put two and two together.

Whoever it was that’s approaching you right now is your invite to the table. Possibly the only one you’d be getting all night.

“I’ve got eyes on him,” you murmur to yourself, hoping Mando’s device can pick it up. You glance to where he is positioned against the wall and see him dip his head slightly in response. Feeling a little more confident, you pull your shoulders back and pretend to make conversation with Febhana.

The boy enters your periphery shortly thereafter, standing at your side as he greets Febhana first.

“Febhana,” the boy tucks his head in greeting to her, then turns his gaze to you. His hair is a thick mop of curls, nose slightly twisted in a way that suggests he isn’t too good at fighting. The crooked smile he gives you is warm enough to push off your initial feeling of disquiet concerning his friends. “And who is this?”

“Lucius, this is my old friend, Sopheste Wilkbail,” Febhana introduces you by your fake name, then motions to the boy. “Sopheste, this is Lucius Laycam, his father owns the racetrack we went to earlier.”

“Dreadful business,” Lucius’s eyes glint, keeping his head tucked slightly in that way men do when they want you to feel like you’re the only person in the room. You don’t like the fact that he knows to say something like that, it demonstrates an ability to read you too easily.  

Lucius takes your hand delicately, leaning down to kiss the ridges of your knuckles. He straightens to say his next words directly into your ear, getting unnecessarily close to do so.

“I’d like to treat you to a dance, if you don’t mind,” his voice rumbles. Your eyes flick to the table from over his shoulder. You make brief eye contact with Cavill, who has leveled his head to take a swig straight from the decanter at the center of the table, entirely disregarding the glass already in his hand. Cavill actually looks at you this time, and holds it, albeit briefly. Lucius finishes his proposal as you train your gaze back to the floor, “And then another drink.”

You give him your best smile and nod. It’s just a small dip of your head, but he eagerly pulls you away from Febhana and towards the center of the dance-floor.

Luckily for you, Lucius isn’t a flashy dancer. He’s amicable in a way you weren’t expecting, considering the company he keeps. He reminds you a lot of the village boy you were having a bit of a fling with before you left Am’ile’s planet: slightly empty-headed, but cute, and very enthusiastic about whatever task he’s put to. There’s a certain goofiness to him that pushes away any residual anxiety with the fits of laughter you tumble into as a direct result of his antics.

It’s kind of… exciting. You don’t want to admit it fully, but there’s something thrilling about someone taking so much interest in you. You’ve been so touch-starved that just the feeling of his hand partially cupping your exposed back in enough to send butterflies straight to your stomach. A different kind of anxious butterflies. Good butterflies.

Maker, it’s only been a few months since you left Am’ile’s and you’ve already been reduced to a giddy schoolgirl at the very brush of someone’s hand against your bare skin. You don’t know how Mando does it, you really don’t.

Lucius pulls the two of you to a halt when the band dies down, the singer murmuring something unintelligible into the mic.

“It was a pleasure, Miss Wilkbail,” he steps back, kissing your hand again and bowing. By this point you’ve figured out that his exaggerated, gentlemanly manner is just another shtick of his. You press your lips together to poorly conceal a giggle, giving him your own mock curtsey in turn.

“And you, Mr. Laycam.”

“Now if you’d like to join me, I’m on a mission to get absolutely plastered before these blowhards,” he motions to the others on the dancefloor with a twirl of his finger, “find a way to make this night even more suffocating than it already is.”

“Sounds just about perfect,” you say as you take the arm he offers you. He pulls you toward the table and you try to keep up with his long strides, bunching some of the skirt of your dress in your hand and lifting the fabric to prevent tripping.

Lucius pulls out a seat for you, introducing you to the playboys seated beside him. You’re directly across from Cavill, who is still nursing the table’s decanter, completely disengaged from the conversation occurring between the two friends that are seated on either side of him.

“Are you new to Canto?” The playboy who asks is a Tagge twin, one of the three brothers who are currently seated at the table with you. You can tell by the signature white-blonde hair.

“A friend of mine wanted me to stay with her for a while,” you say, graciously taking the champagne glass that Lucius plucks off a passing server’s tray to offer you.

“Febhana, you sister’s friend,” Lucius clarifies for the Tagge boy.

“The visiting court singer Heresta was telling me about, before?” The Tagge brother directs the question to Lucius, when his friend nods he raises both eyebrows and shoots you a grin.

“I’m still in training,” you clarify with a nervous laugh, finding it easier to talk if your eyes are trained on the glass in your hand. “But yes, that’d be me. The court singer.”

“What did you say?”

Cavill’s voice quiets the conversations of the other playboys almost immediately. The other Tagge brothers glance over but quickly resume a normal volume. The hierarchy of the table becomes very clear, after that.

“I’m training to be a court singer,” you repeat yourself, sliding your head towards the quarry with your best stab at a cool, practiced gaze of utter ambivalence. Cavill’s eyes remain trained on you, utterly serpentine.

Ah. You press your lips together and look down at your hands folded neatly in your lap, initial resolve broken.

“A court singer?” His voice is a low purr. You raise your gaze again. It seems as though once he takes interest in something, most of his buddies do too. A few of them glance away from their conversations to give you a scathing examination. It takes everything within you to not crawl out of your own skin. So much for the ease you felt back on the dancefloor. “Will you sing for us?”

Your cheeks fill with a heat that quickly travels to your chest. Didn’t expect that. Maybe you should have.

“I... Not here. The singer the Tagges have hired is so lovely, I’m afraid they far outshine me,” your eyes flick back up to his at your last word, you do your best to mask your burning revulsion as shyness.

“That wasn’t a request.” Cavill’s response is so blunt and immediate you actually flinch a little.

“C’mon Tyreus,” Lucius’s voice is quick to intervene. “Leave her alone, she just got here.”

Cavill blinks slowly, as if his eyelids are too taxing of a weight for him to bear. He hums, leaning back in his seat slightly and stretching his arms out to rest on the backs of the chairs on either side of him.

When it becomes clear he has nothing else to say, the other conversations at the table continue as a normal. As if there were no previous interruption. You gradually return to the sense of ease you’d begun to develop earlier, the feeling is seemingly dependent on Cavill’s lack of attention.

Eventually, one of the playboys taps Lucius on the shoulder in passing, quickly murmuring something in his ear before leaving the table to chase down one of the serves for another decanter. Lucius nods, then turns back to you.

“Tyreus wants to extend an invitation to a club we’re going to in an hour or so, if you’d like to join us,” his fingers graze over the peak of your exposed shoulder from where his arm is resting against the back of your seat. For some reason it does not feel as nice as his touch had previously. It’s more intentional, all his playfulness gone. You think that’s why. “Way better than this shit, not so fuckin’ rigid. More private.”

The emphasis he places on those last words is so overt you have to resist an eye-roll. You nod, trying to keep your expression light and ditzy while straightening slightly in your chair. “Tell him it would be an honor.”

Lucius smiles, the fingers that were tracing the line of your opposite shoulder coming up to brush against the shell of your ear. You blink at the touch, vaguely aware of his face inching closer to yours.

You stand without warning, mumbling something about having to use the bathroom before quickly maneuvering your way around the tables and through the arching marble columns that line the ballroom. You walk as briskly as you can into one of the adjoining hallways, following it down and into the women’s bathroom.

Taking a shuttering breath, you place your hands on your hips and close your eyes. Your brain runs at a mile a minute, trying to figure out how to adapt the plan as Mando communicated it to you, considering the fact that Cavill’s posse was leaving within the hour.

You reach your conclusion quickly. You’re the one with the invite, with the way into the inner circle. No time to try and bring Febhana along with you. Honeypot it is.

The bathroom door slamming open breaks you from your thoughts. You gasp, hand pressed to your chest as you whip around. There’s a second of blind panic at the decorated droid stiffly stands at the door’s threshold, both fists clenched at its side, before you remember Mando’s disguise.

You open your mouth indignantly to scold him for bursting in like that but he holds a finger up to shush you, entering the bathroom in one long stride, checking under the stalls for people then briskly locking the main door behind him.

He’s furious. It’s the most blatant display from him you think you’ve ever seen.

“I—” Mando grits out. “Your singing. He doesn’t deserve to get that. None of them do. They’re just using it to get to you.”

You blink twice, completely baffled that that’s the first thing that comes out of his mouth.

He makes another frustrated sound, obviously recognizing your shock, and tries to clarify. “They were… clearly making you uncomfortable but they just kept pushing you—you shouldn’t have to just sit there and take that—"

“Yeah, Mando, that’s kind of how flirting works when you’re dealing with a bunch of entitled assholes,” you snap, finally finding your words. Out of any other possible thing he could be angry about and this was it? “I’ll have to play into what they want to get closer to Cavill. Lucius seems sweet, a little overbearing but sweet. It’ll be fine.”

You’re already hovering the fine line between tipsy and just plain tired. All you want is to get home at this point—your feet hurt, the dress is uncomfortable, and, by your book, making conversation with these silver-spoon pricks could be comparable to pulling teeth. You love Febhana, and you could see the fun in a night like this, but you’re also trying to help Mando do his damn job and if he doesn’t start cooperating—

“He doesn’t. Lay. A finger. On you.” There’s an anger in his voice you’ve never encountered before, not while directed at you, at least. It stops any other thoughts from entering your head. He takes a deep, quivering breath to calm himself. It doesn’t work. “If you’re… if you don’t want it. He will not even look at you. The second—I don’t care if it makes a scene I’ll—"

“Mando.” You lay a hand on his chest. He instantly freezes. “I know that. Thank you. I’m a big girl, I can hold my own. It’s okay.” Trying to lighten the mood, you lift your chin up a bit, smiling at him as brightly as you can manage. “Can we please just talk about how we’re gonna pull this off?”

He gives you a tight nod.

“I… I know that you’ve been doing this for a lot longer than I have, which is the understatement of the millennia, but just… hear me out here. Lucius just invited me to go with them to a club—like, right now.” You feel like if you stop talking he won’t listen to what you have to say, so you keep plowing forward. “I know you made a point about no secondary locations. But, if we have the time I think the best plan of action would be for me to split off, go with them to the club and draw him out to you in some way. The security here is so tight, there’s no way I think we could pull this off without it blowing back on Febhana. She’s important to me and I would appreciate if we could get her out of this scot-free.”

You take a breath, glancing up at him to gauge his reaction thus far. When he doesn’t interject, you continue, keeping your hand on his chest as you speak—for some reason you feel like he listens to you better when you do. “Lucius mentioned that things are way more lax there, so I’m thinking that’ll translate to security measures too. I’m sure Febhana is familiar enough wherever they’re going. She can give you enough intel to be able to get an idea of the place on your way over. Then we can go home.”

“I agree.” His reluctance is palpable, but his next words are far more level-headed than you expected. “You’re right, we shouldn’t jeopardize Febhana. Try to get one of them to tell you a specific location and I can meet you there. I just—” he flexes his hands. “I need to get off this planet.”

“I know,” you sigh, giving his chest a reassuring pat before turning away to go back to the line of mirrors stationed above the sinks, checking your makeup. “Me too.”

You turn on the faucet and lean down to drink straight from the tap. You’re stone sober at this point and the icy water is potentially the best thing you’ve ever tasted. The headache pushing at the back of your eyes has increased to a dull throb.

Mando’s voice from behind you. “Ladylike.”

You turn off the sink and straighten, rolling your eyes. “Oh bite me,” the sharpness of your voice is negated by the laugh you have to push through to get the words out. Relieved that the charged air between the two of you has dissipated, you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand. “Let’s get this over with, I’m exhausted.”

Mando escorts you back down the dimly lit hall, the low hum of the party forms a gradual crescendo the closer you get to the intricate archway where the hallway breaches the ballroom. He pulls you to a stop with a hand on your forearm before you are able to enter.

Despite the heels you’re wearing, he still has to lean down to speak to you.

“Be careful,” he murmurs. Unexpectedly, he swipes his thumb across your elbow before turning heel and rejoining the other droids against the wall.

It’s such an unnecessary motion you can’t help but freeze, unsure how to process that small display of… well, if you didn’t know any better you’d describe it as intimacy. And not the unique sort of platonic camaraderie you’ve started getting used with him. It feels too much like a stolen gesture for that. Something he’s only done out of a pure disregard for his usual utilitarian ethos.  

You swallow and square your shoulders, putting on the best smile you can before heading back to the Tagge table.

Biting your lip as you sink down onto the seat beside Lucius, you drag the knuckles of a relaxed hand down the length of his arm.

“Could I say goodbye to Febhana before we go?” You say as innocently as possible, still figuring out a way to organically ask where the fuck they were going to be taking you without acting too suspicious.

Lucius’s eyes flick over the table, only a few of the seats have emptied. Cavill is gone already.

“Yeah, that should be fine. Just find me when you’re done.”

You stand back up, stretching your neck to find your friend among the crowd. Quickly spotting Febhana, you navigate your way back through the crowd. Just as she has predicted, the uptight façade of the event is quickly dissolving as glasses empty and bodies inch closer together. The crowd you are now navigating through seems completely different from the one you’d encountered upon first entering the dancehall. The heady breath of the gathered crowd leaves a different crackle of energy over the room—considering Cavill’s circle wants to leave this for something “more exciting” is foreboding. Wherever you end up, you’ll deal.

Reaching Febhana’s side, you gently touch her arm to get her attention. She turns, smiling as she sees you.

“There you are! I thought I’d lost you,” she aligns her inner forearms with the length of yours, gripping you lightly in greeting. Touch was once meant survival for the two of you. Back on the Estate, sometimes the only communication you would be able to engage in for days on end, the smallest of reassurances are sometimes the most solid. Old habits die hard. You reciprocate the motion, grasping the inner portion of her elbows.

You duck your head in the direction of the person she was speaking to in a small apology for interrupting. Leaning in to quietly inform her of the change of plans, you tell her that Mando is going to try to meet you at the club. Febhana keeps a straight face as you do, but there’s a glint of worry in her gaze.

“Alright,” she says cheerfully. “I’ll tell the driver to wait outside. He can pick you up and take you back to the apartment when you’re ready to call it a night. I’ve prepared the guest room for you, the service droid can lead you there.”

“Febhana—” your brow furrows as you pull back, unwilling to take advantage of her kindness more than you already have, let alone her only way home. She interrupts you before you can insist.

“I’m going for drinks with friends after this, I’ll ride with them. Please, darling,” she kisses your cheek. “Good luck, and be safe,” she says softly as she pulls back, still gripping you by both elbows. You squeeze her forearms, giving a curt nod.

“I’ve learned from the best,” you manage a confident smile and disentangle her arms from yours. You tell her you’ll update her over the comlink and turn to rejoin Lucius, who was in the midst of his own farewells.

Febhana leaves as you wait for Lucius to finish his conversation. Mando has long since disappeared from his place at the wall. Taking a deep breath, you keep your shoulders back and your head high. You were completely alone.

**

There are five neat lines of spice on the mirrored platter. The Tagge twin is the one to offer it to you, pushing the surface in your direction before sinking back into the velveteen material of the curved couch.

You are in a private room at the club, one of a series of pod-like structures suspended over the dance-floor. The private pod opens into an expansive piece of curved glass that fills out the rest of its intended, ovular, form. If it weren’t for all the plush carpeting, the liquor and smoke and sultry lighting, it would make a decent observation deck. The room makes you feel like the surrounding world is a fish tank, all those people below you just interesting little creatures to look down at and inspect.

There’s something about the very nature of the space that drips luxury—but it’s a kind far removed from the crisp marble lines of the Tagge mansion. This is all seduction. All contours. All darkness and deep tones of amber, starkly contrasting against the pulsing blue lights of the dance-floor below.

The table before you is cluttered with empty glasses, bottles, as well as a few personal items owned by the boys who had already left to chase down the bodies below: a tuxedo tie here, a watch probably worth more than the Crest itself there—you know, the usual things you abandon in search of a warm mouth.

Lucius and Cavill are sharing a cigarette, the burning cherry one of the brightest sources of light in the room. Everything else is illuminated by low shades of red and orange from the warbling fixtures woven against the solid portion of the wall, which then part to trace the curved edges of the observation window.

The music is subdued at this height, yet the grinding pulse of a guitar still sends vibrations through the floor. Through you. The boys’ cigarette traces patterns between them as they exchange it, back and forth, saying very little in between.

Taking a deep breath, you glance down at the platter on the table. You press your lips together, glancing up at Lucius, then Cavill, who has gradually started to pay more attention to you the further into the night you descend.

Pretending to take another sip of your drink, you push the platter towards Lucius. Trying not to draw too much attention to your refusal, you move a little closer to his body as a potential distraction. Either it works or they didn’t care to begin with. Lucius curves into himself, pressing a finger against his nostril to inhale a line. Cavill does two.

Genuinely, there’s no way they could find any kind of appeal to this. You just can’t fathom it—they barely talk to one another, this group. And when they do they seem just as bored in the act as everyone else is. You’d take a night spent with Mando and the kid over this any day.

The Tagge boy jolts back awake, blearily rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. The motion is so sudden it startles you, jumping slightly as he pushes away from the table.

“M’gonna go downstairs,” Tagge’s legs wobble like a newborn calf’s might. “Getta girl.” His departure is unceremonious, just like the others had been. You have a feeling the only thing keeping Lucius at this table is you, and the only thing keeping you at this table is Cavill. Fuck doesn’t really cut it.

As the two of them work on what remains on the platter, you carefully shift out of the circular booth, pacing over to the glass wall to look down at the crowd of writhing bodies.

“Have y’ever been to this place before?” Lucius asks after a moment. He stretches over the top of the couch to look down at the crowd with you. As he does, because you think the universe genuinely hates you, you notice Mando’s disguised silhouette—he’s barely concealed by the darkness of the dance-floor’s periphery. You look away as to not draw too much attention to that one spot.

“No. Never. I’ve been cooped up at the conservatory for most of my life,” you say as angle your body towards the couch, crossing your arms and leaning against the wall with one shoulder. Like this, you’re able to keep Mando in the very edges of your periphery.

What you just said was true for your mother, you knew that. Honestly, you’ve gotten through most of the night by just adopting what you remember about her. It was far too natural of a mask to adopt—maybe that should have creeped you out, but the ease of being able to do so is comforting considering the scope of the mission before you.

You take a breath to clear your mind, needing to get ahead of the conversation before either of them can corner you in a story you’re not able to fabricate. You need to give Mando a clue about where the hell you are.

“How far up do you think we are?” You ask, cocking your head slightly, praying that Mando’s comlink can hear your above what you’re sure is a raucous crowd. It works, you see his head jerk up to finally notice the private rooms above him. Thank the Maker.

“I dunno,” Lucius turns his head to look where you’re looking. “You afraid of heights or something?”

You give a nonchalant laugh, shaking your head slightly. By the time you look back up to scan the crowd one more time you’ve lost track of Mando. Either he’s disappeared in the mass of bodies or he’d gone completely. You have absolutely no clue, and you don’t want to draw attention by continuing to search for him.

Leveling your gaze back to the two boys, you look them over in a way you hope will draw either’s attention. Both are belligerently intoxicated, the glasses before them long since emptied, the smell of spice thick. It gives Cavill the air of a cat luxuriously stretched in the sun, as if it were just some kind of a natural, comfortable state for him.

As if he can read your thoughts, he speaks.

“Why wouldn’t you sing for us, earlier,” Cavill’s voice alone is enough to make your skin crawl. He ashes the cigarette he was smoking. There’s a loud sound of inhaling from Lucius, whose shadowy form is hunched over the table as he finishes what is left on the platter before him.

“Could you quit it,” Lucius mumbles as he rubs either side of his nose, head thrown back as he sniffs indignantly. “She obviously doesn’t want to.”

“If you were shy earlier, it’s just the three of us now. Completely different,” Cavill says, reaching over to wipe his fingers over the platter’s surface. He rubs his gums with the residue. You expect Lucius to defend you and divert the conversation like he’d done earlier. He doesn’t. Cavill sucks his teeth, leaning back once again. “Sing. I want to hear you.”

“It just feels strange is all,” you bite your lip, voice admittedly a bit brisk in how absent-mindedly it disregards what Cavill is asking. Your turn your gaze back out over the club, mainly to get Cavill’s off you.

You’re worried about Mando, about how long it’s taken him to give you some kind of sign that he’s ready. Maybe he’s waiting until you’re completely alone with Cavill? He pushed that in the car, how this whole thing has to be done as quietly as possible. The problem is that you’ve got absolutely no idea how to get Lucius out of the picture.

“Before there were too many people and now there are too little? What do you want?” Cavill’s words float in the air behind you as you pace to the bar cart, determined to busy your hands by remaking the drink you hadn’t touched since entering the room. “Isn’t that what you’re training for?”

Maybe Mando has been stopped? Your eyes flick to the circular doors partitioning the enclosed room from the catwalk hallway. You remember loudly greeting the guards that were there when the posse first entered the room, giving him the best heads up you could organically muster. Could he take both of them out on his own? Quietly?

“Um, yeah I suppose. It’s just different, there. In conservatory.” Dropping ice into your glass, you hear Cavill scoff. Lucius mumbles something. You bend slightly to get some of the bitters from the cart’s lower shelf.

And an explosion of glass shatters right where your head just was.

You whip around in shock, only to see Cavill already standing, swaying a bit on his feet, dress-shirt partially unbuttoned and messily untucked. It’s almost like some kind of switch went off, transforming him into something utterly unrecognizable.

He’s a fucking mess. Eyes nearly black. The empty decanter from the Tagge mansion in his hand.

“In conservatory,” he mocks, his lips pulled upwards in a vicious snarl. “Who the fuck do you think you are?”

Before you can react, the decanter is being flung at you—it misses, again. Shattering on the ground in front of you this time. You press yourself as far as you can against the bar cart, eyes wide. Cavill spits, then wipes his mouth with his hand, looking at you through half-lidded eyes.

“Kneel.”

Horrified, your gaze flicks from Lucius back to the tantrum-throwing, wolf-eyed aristocrat standing in front of you.

“What?” You ask incredulously, browns knitted together in complete confusion.

“I said kneel,” Cavill jabs his finger to the ground. “Pick that shit up.”

Lucius does a poor job of concealing a pained grimace. Or maybe you’ve grown far too good at reading the tiniest expressions from your masked companion that you’ve become hyper-aware of these kind of things. He gives a small: “Maker, Tyreus.” If it were supposed to be a warning it was a shitty one.

Survival instincts set in immediately. You turn your eyes to the floor and make your breathing as small and quiet as possible. Obediently, you comply. Kneeling on the ground and reaching out a shaking hand to begin plucking the shards from the carpet.

Cavill stalks behind you in an instant, one hand sealing around the back of your neck and pushing your head down to immobilize you. Simultaneously, his other hand wraps around your wrist, twisting your arm back and making your body to fold in on itself, pressing you into the ground.

You can’t help but cry out, the sharp motion forcing you to quickly catch yourself with your free hand. Your palm lands directly in the broken glass. You’d give anything to erase the wet sound it makes from your head forever.

It takes you less than a second to realize he’s trying to force your face into the carpet. Into it. Fuck.

“D’you want to tell me, huh?” He’s folds in half to speak directly in your ear, his spit hitting your cheek. He twists your arm further, grinding the hand supporting the rest of your body deeper into the glass. You grit your teeth to prevent another pained sound from escaping. “Wanna tell me who the fuck you think you are? Too good for me, whore? Too good for all this?”

The doors burst open. Cavill lets go of you in shock, it gives you time to crawl away from him as Mando levels his blaster at the boy. You scrape one of your knees in the process, you don’t notice it over the adrenalin pulsing through you.

Lucius swears loudly, standing.

“Don’t move.” Mando’s words are more of a growl than anything else.

In the pause this creates, you’re able to kick out your leg and take Cavill out from the back of the knees. It’s not graceful or pretty but it works. Cavill falls to the ground and you quickly clamber on top of him, forcing his hands behind his back, keeping him down with a bloodied knee to the spine.

Mando throws you the cuffs, training his blaster back on Lucius as you work on securing the binds around his quarry’s wrists.

“The spice,” Mando barks out the order. Lucius, eyes wide with terror, looks from the bounty hunter, to you, back to the bounty hunter.

“W-What?”

Mando shoots Lucius in the leg. The boy screams a curse, folding into himself in pain. The air smells like burnt flesh and coins. You swallow, looking back down and busying yourself with keeping Cavill still as he struggles against the floor.

“The. Spice.” He repeats. Choking on his sobs, Lucius reaches a shaking hand into his suit jacket’s pocket, throwing the little bag on the floor. Mando stalks over to him, Lucius cowers.

“Listen, man I—I’ll give you anything you want, ok? My father—”

Mando pistol whips him, the force behind it is enough to also slam Lucius’s head into the table as a result, knocking him unconscious. The bounty hunter turns, snatching up the spice on the ground and crossing over to you, kneeling beside Cavill, whose face is pressed into the ground.

“Mother fucker,” Cavill snarls, the first coherent set of words he’s said since Mando entered. Without reacting, Mando pinches Cavill’s nose shut. You’re confused for a moment, then Cavill opens his lips to either breathe or continue his litany of abuses and Mando takes that opportunity to empty the rest of the spice directly into the quarry’s mouth.

Cavill’s eyes widen, then almost immediately roll back into his skull. He jerks once, then lays still.

It all happens so fast you barely process Mando’s gentle order for you to stand. You do eventually, your legs a bit shaky as you cross back over to the bar cart, holding your palm up to the light in order to puck the largest pieces of glass out before wrapping your wound with a decorative napkin.

When you turn, Mando is pacing the room’s glass perimeter, looking down at the dance-floor to see if anyone noticed the commotion over the pounding music. His takes two brisk strides to cross the room, back to you.

“Are you okay?” He asks, his voice curt and professional. You duck your head in a nod, still pressing the napkins to your bleeding hand. Mando then turns to deal with Lucius’s body, stuffing his mouth with one of the tux ties on the table, binding his wrists. Buying the two of you time, you guess.

You look down at Cavill’s crumpled body. Unconscious, like this, you realize he couldn’t be more than twenty years old. Maybe even nineteen. “They’re all just kids, aren’t they?”

Mando’s sighs, crossing the room again to lean out the open doors to gauge the best way of getting back to the driver. “Pel kar’ta.” Whatever he just called you, it sounds like an accusation “That doesn’t excuse it.”

“No,” you murmur to yourself, gaze still fixed to the boy on the floor. “No, I guess it doesn’t.”

**

The napkins you use on your injured hand manages to somewhat stop the bleeding. You wait in the backseat as Mando and the driver stuff Cavill’s body into the trunk. You manage to pluck the last of the shards out of the meat of your palm once Mando silently slides into the seat beside you.

The driver leans over to the seemingly empty passenger seat, plucking a bundle of swaddled fabric and passing it back to Mando. It’s the child, sleeping deeply.

“Febhana said she had a feeling you’d want to get off planet as fast as possible. She sends her well wishes,” the driver grits out. He pulls the speeder off the roof of the club, quickly maneuvering the vehicle into Canto Bight’s weaving back alleys.

You take a deep breath, leaning your head against the window.

“I’m sorry,” you manage after a few minutes of driving, the words so soft they break slightly as they leave your mouth. “I… I didn’t think it could get that messy. I should have stuck to the plan.”

He says your name softly, it crackles over the speakers of the modulator. You take too much comfort in how he says it, the way it fills the space between the two of you. “Jobs like this are never clean.”

“You said this needed to go quietly,” you turn your head to look at him directly. “That wasn’t quiet.”

“I should have interfered earlier, that was my fault,” his response is immediate. “You shouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes and resting your head against the window. “I am not trying to make this about me. I just—I know it was a leap of faith involving me in this. I screwed it up, I want to apologize.”

“I didn’t think you were. I was making a clarification. You shouldn’t have gotten hurt.”

The kid makes a small sound in his sleep, you know he’s stretching and nuzzling into the crook of Mando’s arms without having to look over.

“Okay. I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”

He says your name again. You shake your head.

“Let’s just pretend it didn’t happen like that, if that’s okay?” You keep your gaze trained out the window, watching the city as it passes a good distraction from the pain pulsing from your hand up your wrist. “I’ll be fine once we get home.”

From your periphery, you see Mando nod.

Arriving at the hangar, you scoop the child in one arm and open the speeder door with a slight wince. You thank the driver and make a beeline for the Crest, busying yourself with tucking the little one in his cradle while Mando deals with the body.

By the time you shed the dress Febhana leant you—now ruined, thanks to that asshole—and quickly shower, you’re starting to catch a second wind of energy. You’re wide awake by the time you pull on a sleep shirt and a soft pair of shorts, catching yourself on the wall as the Crest rumbles into hyperspace.

Settling at your med station, you examine your injured hand under a small portable light, making sure you didn’t miss any pieces of glass due to the dim lighting of the landspeeder’s interior. You hear Mando step behind you.

“Let me see it,” he says. You straighten, looking up at him. Mando is holding a hand out, for yours. He’s back in the clothes he sometimes wears during your long stretches of travel, no armor save for the helmet on his head. His gloves are removed.

The first time he’d done this it had nearly knocked the wind out of you, stopping your words mid-sentence as you entered the cockpit to feed the kid breakfast. He was reclined in the pilot’s seat, the sturdy fingers grasping a rag to oil the pauldron he held in his other hand. You only caught the brief glimmer of a thick beskar ring on his thumb before averting your eyes, stuttering an apology.

At this point, you’ve seen enough of his hands to have memorized every scar and callous. You know it all, from the broken mountains of his knuckles to the small tattoo below the web of his thumb, so weathered by age you still cannot make sense of what it’s supposed to be.

This is different, though. He’s asking to touch you, skin on skin. That’s what makes you pause, looking at him blankly. Mando tries again.

“It’s my fault you got hurt—please, let me take care of you this once.”

There’s something in his voice that sounds incredibly pained, it’s enough to break you from your thoughts. You hesitate, then shift to face him on the crate you’d pulled over to sit on.

You offer him your hand, palm up, in wordless agreement.

He starts his work there, diligently giving it one last look over for glass before slathering it in bacta and firmly wrapping it with gauze. His hands feel just as you thought they would, rough but warm, hesitant at first but firmer once he gains the confidence to really touch you.

Mando then begins to examine your shoulder, delicately asking you to lift your arm, shift it in different directions and tell him when it hurts. You comply, easily succumbing to his little, light touches.

Maker, if Lucius had managed to give you butterflies on the dance-floor this… this couldn’t even be qualified at anything close to that feeling. The flight of birds, more like. A whole flock. A force only rivaled by the quick beat of your pulse.

“I got you something.” If you didn’t know any better you’d think his voice has a certain tinge of shyness to it. “A few days ago. I kept forgetting to give it to you.”

“Do tell,” you manage a casual yawn, then wince when his fingers dig into your scapula. “Ow.”

“Sorry,” he removes his hands from you, turning and walking to the other side of the hull. He rifles through a crate and emerges with what looks like a little box, offering it to you. You balance it in your bandaged hand, recognizing the object the second you see the speakers affixed to either end of it.

A wide grin breaks out over your face as you look up at him. “Is this a radio?”

He nods, plucking the tube of muscle warming agent from the med-kit and spreading it against your shoulder. His gloves are still off, the rough feeling of his hands against you enough to steal all words from your parted lips.

“Thank you,” you manage. “Mando—this is so nice I—”

“It’s nothing,” he says it frankly. You gladly don’t continue your sentence, turning the object over in your hand. “The woman told me it should work just about anywhere. If it loses signal it’ll just play some kind of recorded catalogue.”

You nod, bracing your forearms against your thighs and fiddling with the radio’s controls as he continues to talk, his thumbs working against every part of the joint they can. The feeling is far too easy to give into, you allow yourself to close your eyes as he continues, placing the radio beside you and leaning back to rest your elbows on the table to your back.

“I thought it was the least I could offer you. You seem so happy whenever there’s music,” Mando says as he kneels in front of you, wiping off your injured knee, rubbing away the scabs that were already forming with a disinfectant-soaked towel. He disregards the hiss you give and begins applying the bacta to the scored surface. “Especially tonight, when you were dancing. I didn’t realize you could.”

You laugh, smiling to yourself. “I was most nervous about that, as ridiculous as it sounds.” You muffle a relieved groan at the numb warmth that begins to spread as soon as the bacta sets in. You turn over what you want to ask for a long time before you muster the courage to say it. Why not? “I could teach you.”

A pause. “What?”

“I could teach you to dance, if you want me to,” you open your eyes to look down at the man kneeling before you. His fingers are frozen against the bandage he was in the process of tying off—incorrectly, you might add, but you can fix it later. You can’t help but smile at him. “Put this radio to use.”

He pauses for a moment longer, then shakes his head and goes back to adjusting your bandages. “Don’t mess with me like that, I’ll take back the compliment.”

“Hey! C’mon,” you bite your lip, stretching out your uninjured leg to faux-kick his side. He grabs your foot before it can make contact, gently guiding it back to the floor. “I’m being serious. Gotta blow off some steam before I can sleep.” Heat shoots up to your face, the words leaving your mouth before you can think them through. “It’ll be fun, I promise.”

“Alright.” Mando stands, crossing his arms over his chest to regard you.

You genuinely don’t believe it. Your smile widens. “Are you serious?”

His head cocks to the side. “If you make a big deal out of it I’ll purposefully step on your toes.”

It’s hard to contain your glee. You push yourself up to your feet, Mando’s arms shooting out in a protective gesture to catch you when you wobble slightly.

“Relax, I’m fine,” you gently push his hands away, walking over to the other side of the hull to place the radio on top of a stack of crates. Fiddling with it for a moment, you find a station playing something slow.

Turning back around, you see that Mando has turned off the med-station’s light, the brightest source of illumination now coming from the radio’s tiny interface behind you. The rest of the hull’s sconces are in night mode, the dull orange glow just enough to see what’s in front of you.

“Okay,” you begin, standing in the middle of the room and motioning Mando towards you. He complies. You hold out both hands. When he doesn’t get it, you press your lips together to suppress a smile, taking them for yourself where they rest limply at his sides. “So, you’d start by approaching your lady and holding her hand up, like this.” You bend your right elbow, your loosely interlocked hand forcing his left arm to do the same.

Mando nods, head bowed to you in observation, a diligent student.

“Then,” you continue, guiding his right hand to the curve of your waist. “You’d place your other hand here, or mid-back, whatever feels most appropriate for the situation.” He doesn’t move his hand. It sends a bit of a thrill through you. You place your left hand on his bicep, looking up at him and grinning. “See? You’re a natural.”

The both of you laugh at that one. His comes out as nothing more than a hoarse release of air from the modulator, but it’s enough to have you absolutely elated.

You start to sway slightly, to the rhythm of the song now playing from the radio’s speakers. Mando picks up the hint, taking up the role of leader while you gladly follow. He’s actually okay—granted, the two of you are just swaying in place, but still.

“I meant that, you know.”

“Hm?” You ask, partially distracted in trying to figure out what move to teach him next. The waltz you and Lucius did would be far too complicated, maybe there would be some kind of way to simplify it…

“What I said earlier. You looked beautiful, tonight,” Mando says, chin still tucked to look down at you. You blink, only actually processing what he’d just said a few seconds after he said it. You purposefully keep your eyes trained to his chest in order to keep your thoughts straight. “I um… I didn’t know how to tell you. Earlier. In the car. But I wanted to.”

“Hate to inform you, but the dress is in tatters and I am way too lazy to put all that makeup on again,” you chuckle, using the side of your foot to nudge him into a bit of a wider stance. He has the resting state of a soldier at attention—fitting, you guess, for a Mandalorian. It’s something so natural about to him that you’ve only really noticed the rigidity of it now.

“No, no I’m not… That’s not what I meant. You look that way always just—tonight, especially.”

“Well, Mando, if I didn’t know any better I’d think you sound a little bashful right now,” you joke, trying to move on as quickly as possible to cover up the fact that you had no idea how to take a compliment. You turn your head a little too quickly to look back down at his feet, ready to instruct him on the next steps, and your forehead collides with him helmet.

It fucking hurts.

You wince, cursing slightly under your breath and screwing up your face, trying to laugh off the heat burning in your cheeks and across your chest. “Ow.”

“Fuck, sorry,” Mando mutters, releasing your hands and cupping either sides of your jaw with his hands. His thumbs press along the underside of your chin, tilting your face up towards him as he inspects it for damage. “Are you okay?”  

You close your eyes and nod, swallowing. “Yeah, just surprised me is all—never had to teach a tin can how to dance before, forgot I had to be conscious about the...” one of his thumbs traces a curved line against your chin before he removes his hands from your face. The motion is quick and then gone immediately, just as he had done in the hallways of the Tagge mansion. It has a far more vivid consequence of completely scrambling your thoughts, this time around. “Helmet,” you manage.

After a moment, Mando tilts his head.

“Close your eyes,” his voice is husky, from the modulator or something else you don’t know.

You comply without question, pulse increasing as you feel Mando step away and rummage through something. He returns, standing behind you this time. Fabric is wrapped around your eyes—once, then twice. You reach a hand up to touch it, recognize the slightly rough texture of gauze almost immediately.

There’s some kind of a hissing sound, then the clank of metal being placed on something solid. Then he’s back in front of you.

“Think you can teach me like this?” And it’s his voice. His voice. Rough but warm and unobstructed. Just as his hands had been. It takes the wind right out of your lungs.

“Mando,” if you could think of anything else to say, you’d cringe at how breathless you sound. What are you, a locked-away damsel in distress?

“When I was younger I was… a bit more lax. Running with the wrong people. I relied on… technicalities, in our code, a little too heavily back then.” You never want to stop hearing his voice. There’s something about the modulator that doesn’t do the light lilt to his words justice, the low but crisp resonance of his voice. “But I’ve… this is new. But okay. Within the rules.”

“Are you—” clearing your throat, you try again. More firm this time. “Are you sure?”

“Just don’t touch my face with your hands,” his voice remains clipped, slightly cautious, but resolved. Typical. “If you—I can put the helm back on, if this makes you uncomfortable.”

“No!” You interject, placing both hands on his chest in reassurance. “No, I… no. I feel honored and happy, really happy, that you’d trust me like this. It means a lot.”

You hear him hum low in his throat, a sound you know he makes sometimes when he nods. He takes your hand, again, the other going back to your waist. “Okay, start over.”

“So,” you begin again, trying your best to run your mouth enough to distract from how… serious this feels. You know it most likely isn’t a huge deal, if he’s willing to do this after one accidental collision—but, well. Still. “When you’re ready, you’ll step forward and I’ll step back. And… uh…” you bite your lip as his hand drifts lower, just an inch, to rest at the small of your back. You look up at him through the blindfold out of habit. “You lead, I follow, simple as that.”

“Simple as that?” His words have a rare, palpable heat to them. You can never be certain, of course, but you’re convinced there’s a small smile behind his question. It’s easier to tell, now.

“Yeah,” your chest feels tight with an emotion so close yet so different from the joy you’re used to feeling. Your smile is uncontainable, if barely visible in the hull’s dim light. “It really is.”

He’s a fast learner, easily taking you in slow, looping circles around the room for the next few songs. The silence between the two of you is comforting.

The longer the radio plays, the deeper you sink into one another, your entwined movements eventually spiraling back to the center of the space, settling into an easy, sedentary sway there. You only really notice this as Mando’s hand drifts from your lower back to wrap around the curve of your opposite hip, the length of his sturdy forearm braced against your body. After a beat, you let go of the hand you’re holding onto and wrap both arms loosely around his neck, leaning into him fully.

The two of you don’t acknowledge it, playing it off as an incidental thing, this gradual enclosure of your bodies. The equally quick thrum of your hearts betrays the known secret behind the little game you are playing.

“What did that phrase you use mean, when we talked earlier?” You press the side of your face to Mando’s chest. He props his chin against the crown of your head in welcome response.

The hand previously holding yours moves up your spine in order to gently cradle the back of your neck, gently holding you in place. His thumb traces repetative arcs against the sensitive line between the corner of your jaw and your earlobe. It feels like a salve in its own right, erasing the feeling of Cavill’s skin pressed against your own.

“What did what mean?” Mando asks innocently enough, as his hand continues its serene movement. It’s the most he’s ever touched you, and you suppose he keeps his tone completely casual to make up for the fact. As if the two of you were conversing from other sides of the room, not entangled in each other. You’re more than willing to play into the charade if it means you can have this, the ability to close your eyes and take in the rumble of his voice against your ear.

“Pel… pel kar-ta?” You wince at your gross mispronunciation. “What you called me back there, at the club.”

“Oh—” he seems surprised, like he didn’t even remember saying it. “That’s—that’s Mando’a. It means… well it’s the closest expression to kindness we have.” He keeps rubbing the corner of your jaw with his thumb, keeping rhythm with your movements. If it could even be considered that, at this point. “A more direct translation would be ‘soft hearted.’ Someone who is unapologetically forgiving towards others, even to those don’t deserve it. An ability to love that clouds greater judgment.”

“I have the feeling it’s not the most complimentary nickname for Mandalorians.”

“No, no it isn’t,” the breath of his laugh ruffles your hair. You can’t help but hide your smile in the warm fabric of his shirt, laughing with him. Mando shifts slightly, curving over you, your cheek against his, rough with a well-developed five o’clock shadow. “But, um. I mean it as a compliment, for you. As stupid as you can get.”

If someone punched you in the gut it wouldn’t have left you this breathless. You try to disguise the euphoric feeling it gives you in humor. You’re worried that if you give too much away he’ll stop touching you. Stop holding you like this. Like you were the one gentle thing he’d succumb to.

“Well, it seems hardly fair that you get to call me a nickname and I get nothing at all,” you huff in playful offense, barely able to keep the smile off your face. “Totally unfair.”

“Give me your best, then.” He’s still smiling, you don’t know how you can tell but you just can. It’s infectious.

“What about… hmm… I dunno—tin can?”

“That one’s taken.”

“Oh, have some lady in waiting I should know about?”

“That’s probably the exact opposite way I’d describe him.”

You laugh. “Bucket head?”

“Not very original.”

“Well,” you give an airy hmph. “I’m stumped. You win. Mando it remains.”

Continuing your sway as the music maintains its soft tumble from the radio’s speakers, the two of you go so long without speaking you think the conversation has ended--until:

“Din.” He says the word so softly it wouldn’t have been picked up if he were still speaking through the vocoder.

Your brow furrows. “Sorry, what?”

“Din. Din Djarin. My name. When it’s… when it’s just us, you can use it. If you’d like.”

You cup your hand around the other side of his neck and pull back slightly. His hand automatically lifts to press against your cheek, a refusal to allow you to move any further despite the fact that you’re wearing the blindfold. Pure habit, you think.

You blink against the fabric stretched over your eyes, trying to quell your burning desire to do something absolutely disastrous.

So you say his name instead.

**

tag list: @im-the-nerdiest-of-them-a11 @walkingthegrounds @roseallisonparker @kaitlyn2907 @dinsbeskar @mandoandyodito @kyjoraven @ineffableloveforyou

please let me know if you would like to be added/removed !!

[btsslowburnfic]

The Arrangement Ch. 16

Story summary: Desperately in need of money, you answered the questionable ad. AKA-Arranged marriage AU featuring Y/N and Yoongi

Chapter Summary: Dinner at the “Best Diner in Seoul.” (Still not a date though, right?)

Previous Chapter here

The two of you dropped the van off without any issues. You walked outside the rental agency, onto the main street stretching your arms overhead. You turned to face Yoongi, “Alright, are you ready for dinner at the best diner in Seoul?”

Yoongi smiled, glad you had rallied from earlier. He put his hands in his pockets. “The best? I don’t know; that’s a pretty high standard. This is a world-class city.”

You started to walk, “It is, and I have eaten a lot of places. This one is the best diner.”

Yoongi followed you to the subway station.  “Where is this diner?” He asked. The subway was uncrowded, with not much of a rush happening on Sunday night. You each scanned your cards. 

“It’s by work.”

Yoongi racked his brain trying to think of a diner near BigHit but wasn’t able to. He shrugged.

The subway car was mostly empty and the ride back to the city center was smooth. Yoongi scrolled through his phone. You got off and you led him down a few alleyways to an unassuming diner. It was truly a hole in the wall. 

The neon sign above the door, “Dynamite Diner,” had a few letters out: DYMT DNER. Yoongi chuckled slightly and made a confused face, but took your word for it as you opened the door. The inside of the diner was clean and brightly decorated. There was a counter with bright white stools and several cherry red booths around the perimeter. Donuts sat in a display case next to a vintage register up on the countertop.

“I should have brought my sunglasses,” Yoongi joked as he followed you over to one of the booths. You laughed and put both your personal and work phones on the table and stretched. You were certain you would be sore tomorrow from moving all those boxes. 

"What is that?" Yoongi asked, sounding mildly horrified as he gestured to your personal phone. 

"Oh this?" You held it up. You had jokingly changed your lock screen to the picture you took of him sleeping the other night to see how long it would take him to notice. "It's you, looking so adorable." 

His eyes widened "You put Tubby on me." 

"Aww is that the bear's name?” You turned the phone back towards you to look at it. “So cute". 

Yooongi touched his ear awkwardly, "It’s a dog, not a bear. Tubby was my family's pet growing up; our first dog. Anyways, I can't be your lock screen!" He pouted, a slight accent suddenly permeating his speech. 

You looked over at him, trying to keep a straight face. "Ok first of all it looks like a bear, but that it was your family’s dog makes it even more adorable. Secondly, it's my personal phone sooo…. Third. where are you from?”

“What...what does that...Daegu.”

You smirked and looked at your phone again. “I guess if it really bothers you I can change it, but look? It makes me smile." You held it up and grinned. 

The waitress came over, dropped off menus, and took your drink orders: Coffee, water, and a cup of ice for Yoongi.

"Oh my God, keep it." Yoongi opened his menu, clearly flustered. 

You laughed, "Are you sure?" 

"Yes, just stop showing it to me. Put it face down." 

You smiled and complied, then flipped through the menu. “Why did we both just order coffee?” You asked. “It’s 9 pm. That’s a terrible idea.”

“I can drink coffee and fall asleep, no problem.  What's good here?” 

“The noodles are really good. I'm getting the gaeranjim tonight. I used to come here after working at the bar since it's open 24/7.”

Yoongi looked over at, watching you scan the menu. You gave so much to the people you cared about." Spicy or regular?" 

"Huh?" You asked, bobbing your head back up. 

"Spicy noodles or plain?" 

"It's cold out, so you have to get spicy." You said it so matter of factly. 

“Ok, of course. Why did I even ask?” 

You put the menu down and grabbed your work phone.  "Let's see what this week brings. Meetings. Meetings. Sound mixing? Recording. Meet with Hoseok. Hair and make-up department. Photo shoot? Photo shoot?" 

Yoongi sat his menu down and interlaced his fingers in front of his face, resting his mouth against them. “Yep. They want new pictures for social media and for the album. My next album deadline is in 90 days but they begin all of this stuff in advance for things like printing and promos.” 

“Oooo so you'll be like a model?”

Yoongi rolled his eyes and the server walked up to the table. She sat down all of the drinks carefully. The two of you placed your food orders and handed in the menus.

“Min Yoongi. Model.' You teased, striking a pose. 

“Are you saying I'm not good looking enough to be a model?” He feigned offense while pouring his coffee over the ice and stirring it.

“Oh please, I told you at the job interview I thought you were good looking. It's just hard to imagine you sitting still and being pretty.” 

Yoongi rubbed the back of his neck. “Well it's in my contract. And my fans like it. As much as I hate parts about my job, I do love my fans. " He took a sip of his drink.

“That's sweet.” You smiled.

Yoongi blushed a little, “Well I wouldn't be where I am without them, right? You have to have an audience to be a performer. Someone has to listen, otherwise you're just screaming into the void.”

“I guess that makes sense. Being on the consumer side of things I never really thought of it like that. Huh.” You sat back in the booth thoughtfully and sipped some coffee. 

Yoongi looked out the glass window at the street outside. It had been a strange couple of weeks for him and yet this all felt normal. He couldn't remember the last time he had gone out to a restaurant with someone because he wanted to. He covered a yawn and looked back over at you. 

You were people watching in the diner. You were normally only here in the middle of the night. The bell above the entrance dinged and you saw Chinsun, your regular server, walk in to begin her night shift. You smiled as you remembered all the coffee and bullshit you had shared with her. There were nights you got off work at 3 and knew it made more sense to power through and go into the office. You decided you would talk to her later if she wasn't busy. 

The food came out a few minutes later.  Hunger had snuck up on you. You went from zero to famished. You began blowing on your meal.

“Y/N?” You heard the familiar voice of Chinsun “I haven't seen you in a while.” She had on her white and red work uniform and her graying hair done up in a bun.

You looked up from your eggs and smiled,  “Nice to see you. I quit working at the bar, I just have 1 job now.” You said happily. 

“That's great, you can only burn the candle from both ends for so long. I'm surprised you did it for as long as you did.” She responded.

You shrugged and took a sip of water. “Well we all do what we have to.”

“And?.... who is your friend?” Chinsun gestured to Yoongi who was mid-slurp on his noodles. Apparently he was also starving.

“This is my boss, Min Yoongi.”

He patted his mouth with a napkin before speaking, “Hello,” he bowed his head. “Nice to meet you.” 

“I’m Chinsun. It’s nice to meet you too.  Well I'll let you get back to your meal, I'm glad you stopped by, I was worried when I didn’t see you for a while. Make sure you two come back!”

“Thank you. You are so sweet. I’ll make sure to stop in again soon, take care.” You took a bite as soon as she left.

“These noodles are in fact, the best.” Yoongi appraised between slurps. 

“I told you. You can’t beat a hole in the wall diner sometimes. So...new album in 90 days? How’s it going?”

“It’s ok. A few songs are done. I got feedback from Adora last week so that was helpful. This album in general will be less….angry. Yeah less angry sounding.”

“Cool. What comes first, the music or the lyrics?”

“They are separate completely. The music and then I see if any of the  lyrics I’ve written match the mood. Sometimes it just goes together and sometimes it doesn’t.” 

“Interesting.”

Yoongi talked a bit more about the process of creating an album from start to finish. You had never put any thought into it so it was fascinating. The rest of your meal passed without incident and you were happy that when they brought the bill, Yoongi actually let you pay. 

You waved to Chinsun as you exited. Yoongi rubbed his stomach. “Too many noodles.”

You smiled and then looked up at the sky. It was beginning to snow. “No such thing. And look. What great timing. The first snow of the year.” 

“Gross.” He quickly replied.

“Ahahaha you really hate the cold don’t you?” You said as you held out your hand, watching the flakes land and melt almost instantly.

“I do. The snow is pretty though. I’ll look at it tomorrow from the warmth and safety of inside.”

“You’re no fun. I love the snow.” You played with it for a few more seconds. “Alright let’s get back.”  

The snow continued to fall as you began the short walk back to BigHit. It was so pretty. The sidewalk was almost empty and the snowfall made it seem even quieter than it was. You took your phone out and snapped a picture for Instagram. In a few minutes, you were back at the building. The two of you scanned your badges to enter the lobby and waved to the night security guard.

“I’m heading to the studio. You should take some aspirin and a hot bath.” Yoongi said while you waited for the elevator.

You reached over without thinking and dusted snowflakes off of his hair. “Do you need help with anything? I also had coffee, I’ll probably be up for a while.”

Yoongi was briefly unable to answer, still surprised from having been dusted. “Nope. I’m just going to write. Go, rest your muscles. Watch Netflix. Relax. You literally moved a small apartment’s worth of stuff today.”

The two of you got on the elevator. “Alright. If you insist. I’m not going to argue with that. Where is the aspirin?”

“My bathroom. Bottom left drawer.”

“Got it.” The elevator slowly climbed. You took a deep breath and looked over at Yoongi. “Thanks again for all your help today. Like. ALLLLL of it. The van, my aunt, my brother. Thanks. It was a lot.”

Yoongi avoided eye contact, finding his shoes very fascinating. “No problem. Like I said, it wasn’t that bad for me. I got free soup and noodles.”

You laughed, “Good to know your chauffeur services are so affordable.” The elevator stopped on the 14th floor. 

“See you tomorrow.” Yoongi started to exit, “If Jin’s girlfriend acts up, call me.” Yoongi added as though he suddenly remembered something.

“Now that I know that’s a thing, apparently, I’ll be fine.  Thanks though.” You waved as the doors closed.

You’d be fine. Yoongi reassured himself as he walked over to the studio. He was suddenly acutely aware of just how quiet the 14th floor was with no one else on it. He walked over to the large windows on the opposite side of the elevators. The snow was really coming down now, and the ground would soon be blanketed. He opened the shopping app and searched “snow gloves.” He took a deep breath, What am I doing? He walked over to the other side of the floor, punched in his passcode, and entered Genius lab, ready to get some writing done.

--

Fuck, you were so glad today was almost over. You walked into the apartment and immediately started a bath. You set up your laptop on the toilet lid. You were going to live your best life, watching Netflix in the bathtub. You had heard of such luxuries and were strangely excited by it. You headed up to the loft area, randomly grabbed a stuffed animal and threw it onto Yoongi’s bed. You grabbed the aspirin and smiled as you passed the Pikachu you had yeeted onto Yoongi’s comforter and imagined his annoyance when he discovered it. Ah, it made you laugh. You grabbed yourself some water from the kitchen and headed off to soak away your soreness and forget the day. You paused briefly to admire the snow coming down in full force now. So beautiful.  NEXT CHAPTER

@lidda  @anpanman-sonyeondan   @firefairy1  @cuteipat  @sugaslittlekookies  @janeelizabeth1216 @deeepvibes @gxldenhunny @livelyjay @niniita-ah @bobbyboops @honeysunandsoil @deathkat657 (i missed your tag for the last chapter, so sorry!!)

[crystal-heart-saga]

CRYSTAL HEART:

CHAPTER ONE: A Startling Discovery.

DISCLAIMER; I DO NOT OWN MARVEL, IF I DID, HALF OF ENDGAME WOULD NOT HAVE HAPPENED.

TW; MENTIONED/REFERENCED/IMPLIED CHILD ABUSE.

Natasha’s POV

The Battle raged around me as I raced across the compound. I had to get inside before HYDRA wiped their Computers.

“I’ve got your six Tash,” Clint’s voice rang in my ear.

“Copy that,” I said, effortlessly taking out a HYDRA agent that had attempted to block my path.

I took a moment to catch my breath, the gun still firing from my shoulder. Suddenly, a barrage of bullets rang out from the other side of the fence. I turned around and saw Cap crouched behind his shield. pinned down by a half dozen HYDRA agents.

I vaulted over the fence and rolled towards the sounds of gunfire. A HYDRA sniper had been hiding on top of the security building. I fired a few rounds into him. He screamed as one of the bullets hit him. His weapon ejected and he crashed to the floor below. I grabbed a piece of pipe, and another HYDRA agent rushed towards me. I smashed him with the pipe, knocking him out cold.

This gave Steve the opening he needed, he leapt to his feet and tossed his shield. taking out three goons in one swoop, then he punched the last one and tossed him into the security fence.

"Go Romanov," He said, turning to me, "We've got this out here, but there's no point if we lose the Data."

I nodded, heading towards the door.

Inside the perimeter of the security building, three HYDRA agents had managed to capture James. Clearly they'd used a trigger word to knock him out.

"What's the plan Ms Romanov?" Spider-Man asked. I glanced to my left where he hanging upside down off a web at my side.

I held up a finger to shush him as I watched what the HYDRA goons were up to. They were working on loading the gasses back into the portable canisters.

"I'll take them out, you get James to safety," I whispered, turning to the boy beside me.

"You got it."

I kicked down the door, startling the agents, One of them tossed a canister at me, I dodged it but It exploded, the blast left a giant hole in the floor.

That was the opening I needed.

using my widow's sting on the agents, I was quickly able to incapacitate them. and as Spidey moved in and got James out, I dropped down through the hole in the floor.

I was inside the Compound.

Walking through, it seemed that all the occupants of the compound were outside getting their butts handed to them by the rest of the team. Reaching the Server room, I pulled a USB drive from my suit pocket and plugged it in.

"Alright JARVIS," I said, "Start the Download."

"Straight away, Agent Romanov," the AI replied.

While I waited, I picked the lock on the filing cabinet and started digging through the paper records. I found the Winter Soldier Files but put them back without looking. That was too Personal. Something else caught my eye, A file marked Kriegerkinder

Kriegerkinder? why did that sound familiar? I opened the file and promptly shut it again, desperately trying to dispel the nausea that had risen from what I'd seen inside. the team needed to know about this.

As the download finished, I grabbed the USB drive and started to head out through a different exit. walking down a dark, foreboding corridor. lined with doors to what seemed like holding cells. suddenly, my foot collided with something soft.

I looked down, it was a teddy bear. A tattered, old, slightly disgusting teddy bear with a missing arm, ear and eye.

Children, there had been children here.

maybe there still were.

I broke opened every door in the corridor, all of the holding cells were empty. the floors were stained with blood, vomit and other body fluids. and the walls had chains much too small for any adult.

Cell after cell, empty, empty, empty. Like HYDRA had gotten them all out when we'd shown up.

and then, as I threw open the door to the last cell, I found a sight I'd never forget.

It was a child! A little girl who couldn't be older than ten huddled in the damp corner of the cell. she had messy platinum blonde hair that was long, unkept and matted with filth. scraps of tattered grey fabric that could barely be called a dress, hung loosely off her far too thin body. Big heterochromatic eyes, Blueish green on the left and deep hazel brown on the right, stared up at me in fear.

"Don't be afraid," I whispered, kneeling down, "I won't hurt you."

The little girl looked at me as if she didn't believe me.

"You are safe now," I told her, "you're okay now, I promise. What's your name?"

"1 2 2 8 1 9 2 2." She replied, almost robotically.

"That's your number, what's your name?" I asked again.

She remained silent and looked at the floor.

"You don't have a name... do you?" I guessed.

She shook her head, Blood-stained pale locks falling in her face.

"Well, I'm Natasha. Natasha Romanov."

The Little girl gasped and recoiled in fear, "You... You're... You're one of them! You're an Avenger!"

"Yes, I am an Avenger. But I'm not going to hurt you. and neither will anybody else. We don`t hurt children."

"So you`re not going to feed me to the Hulk?"

"Why would I do that?" I asked, appalled.

"That's what they said you'd do to us if we ever left."

It didn't take me long to realise why the little girl thought I was that kind of person. HYDRA tells people anything to keep them under their control.

"How many of you are there?" I asked.

The little girl hung her head and chewed her lip, "I... I... I don't know... but... They stick us with needles then we become really sick. A lot of us don't make it."

Bile rose in my throat as I tried not to let my anger truly show. I'd only scare this little one who'd already been through so much.

"How long have you been here?" I asked.

The little girl shrugged.

"Would you like to leave here? with me?" I asked, "We can keep you safe. I promise."

The little girl looked away, as if thinking about it. then she turned back to me and nodded meekly.

I offered my hand and she hesitantly took it. Together, we left that dark, damp cell behind.

"You know, I have to call you something," I said, "You really don't know If you have a name?"

The little girl shook her head again, "No. but... but I have dreams occasionally, someone's in them, and they call me Mel."

"Mel, huh? Well, I`ll call you that. Would you like that?"

she nodded.

I held Mel close to my side as we left the Compound and walked across the now-empty battlefield. Evidently, the Avengers had won the day yet again.

Mel Stumbled as we passed through the mangled wire fence and headed for a large group of black Vans.

"M'sorry." Mel said softly.

"Nothing to be sorry for," I replied, "It's alright, just a few more steps."

"Tash!" Clint called out to me. I felt Mel jump and try to make herself smaller. "There you are! Do you have any idea how worried we were?"

"Sorry, got a little... distracted," I replied, gesturing towards Mel.

"S***!, Barnes was right... the orphans... the experiments, just like the twins."

"I think she's the only one left."

"What's your name kid?" Clint asked, kneeling to Mel's height.

"I don't really have one," Mel responded shyly, "but Ms Romanov's been calling me Mel."

"Nice to meet you Mel, I`m Clint Barton, Codename; Hawk-eye." Clint smiled, then he turned back to me, "You should talk to Hill."

"That's a given, here she comes now," I replied.

"Agent Romanoff, did you discover anything?" Hill asked.

"You could say that."

[bangtanlalaland]

together | ksj (m.)

synopsis ⇣ you encounter the world’s most handsome man, who’s also the richest, only to discover that he’s your long-lost childhood friend.

→part of the bring it back collection!

— 1920′s!au; friends to lovers!au

⇢pairing: millionaire!kim seokjin x textile worker!female reader

⇢genre: angst, fluff, smut

⇢word count: 3.9k+

⇢contents ⨯ warnings: somewhat inspired by the great gatsby, some plots twists in here (have your popcorn ready plz), mentions of pining, soft love making in this, some sad stuff (sorryyyy, just adds to the drama), a splash of 1920′s slang (i tried ok)

a/n: just a reminder you guys, in case you’re wondering or expecting this, I am not basing this story entirely off of what happened in the great gatsby so plz don’t come after me. as stated above, this fic is somewhat inspired by the novel. I’d also like to add that most of the events taking place in this story is like a re-enactment of my own personal experiences, therefore this one is a little personal for me, but I am glad to have this chance to share it with you all. anyways, hope you all enjoy!

song rec: “together” by the xx

glossary

big shot—someone of high status/great popularity

bimbo—tough guy

bootlegging—illegal distribution of alcohol

cash or check—to kiss someone now or later

gay—happy (no connection to homosexuality)

jane—a female

jitney—a small bus that costs 5¢

nookie—sex

quiff—a slut

speakeasy—an underground bar (usually involves illegal distribution and/or selling of alcohol)

wingding—a lively celebration or party

Everything was planned. And you should have known this—that it was all an act/a gimmick. The fame, the money, the chivalry. And it didn’t get you anywhere but strung out on coffee and cigarettes—paired with a broken heart. Part of you wanted to blame your friend Betty for even dragging you to that pointless wingding, and then another part of you wanted to blame yourself for letting your guard down. The moment you saw his stupid, handsome face, you should have just walked away. You should have ended whatever was to come, right then and there.

But, you didn’t.

Instead, you chose to wind up in his bed and smothered by his arms. You chose to let yourself go, because at one point in your life, he was someone you trusted. The never-ending ache in your chest weighs upon you as if you’re carrying a rock that’s the size of New York state. You continuously tell yourself: You should have left. You should have said no. You should have just walked away.

Maybe if you said no, would he have ended up in your life some other way? Would you have been happier than you were during those moments with him? Could you even truly say you regret those experiences, even though at that moment it was exactly what you wanted? The past few weeks, you’d driven yourself mad, contemplating and replaying scenarios within your mind to re-arrange the pieces to the puzzle.

But, you end up with nothing.

You can’t think. You can’t eat. You can’t sleep. You can’t do anything without seeing him. Feeling him. Hearing him. And even smelling him. It’s as if he lingers in the spirit—like a ghost, haunting you every waking second of the day. Except, you know nothing about ghosts and how to rid of them.

And the memories…

You can’t forget the times when life was oh so simple—when you knew who he used to be, the he you grew fond of and loved with every fiber in your being. You can’t get over those shiny, gold, silky sheets you had become accustomed to lace yourself in, wrapped within his embrace. Both of your bare bodies glued together by perspiration, and those deep-chocolate irises that make you crumble under his gaze. Especially when he’d whisper to you with that voice of his dipped in comfort and say,

“I don’t think I’ve ever been more happier in my life.”

However, it’s too late. You tell yourself that it’s over, and there is no going back. Ever.

five months earlier

You wiped away the perspiration, on your forehead, with the back of your hand. As people say, “Another day, another dollar.” Literally. You’re only paid 16 cents/hr for your work at the town’s local textile factory. Your hands often find themselves cracked and dried by the end of your shift. It’s the roaring 20′s and everything was booming. Well, at least for everyone else except you.

“Oh, Betty! I told you already I don’t ‘party’.” You whined, while clutching your purse to head beeline out of the factory.

“You’re telling me that a doll like yourself doesn’t ‘party’ during this Jazz Age?” Your blonde-haired co-worker scoffed with a laugh. “Surely, you ought to be ashamed!”

Your mouth flew agape at her audacity, “Well-” You attempted to muster up a comeback, “Well- speakeasy’s are not even legal!”

Betty added, “Oh, you’re no fun! You know that?” You giggled at her frustrated expression since she seemed so conflicted.

“I know. Which is probably why a man would never want me.” Betty stopped you in your tracks, placing her hand over your arm.

“Oh, nonsense! You’re a doll and you know it.” She contemplated for a moment, “You just need some… opening up is all!”

You nodded in reply, “I suppose so.” Betty’s face lit up as if an idea popped up in that wild brain of hers, “How about this?” She gripped onto you tighter. “Why don’t you join me this weekend at Mr. Worldwide Handsome’s wingding!”

Your eyebrows furrowed, “I don’t think you understand what “partying” means, when I say I do-”

“Now, now wait! Before you say no, it’s not what you think.” She reassured with a beaming smile.

“Who is this Mr. Worldwide Handsome?” You questioned, finally reaching the bus stop to catch a jitney.

Betty hesitated for a moment, “Why I don’t know. Well, I don’t think anyone knows.” You scoffed at her coy way of attempting to convince you.

“Oh, that’s just nonsense, Betty! If this is your way of trying to get me to go with you to that party- then, you’re doing quite an awful job at it.”

Betty rolled her eyes at you, “____, you’ve got it all wrong! I promise. It’s not what you think. It’s just a place where you can be yourself. He holds these gatherings every weekend and it’s so… lively! You can be free and… gay!”

—

You nervously stepped out of the automobile, as you and Betty were dropped off outside of the grand mansion where dozens if not hundreds of people gathered within the entrance of the establishment. Flappers and big shots roamed the premises.

“Why did I let you persuade me into coming here?” You whispered to Betty who had her arm interlinked with yours. You plastered a fake smile amongst the guests. Betty was dressed in a mini, black dress with sparkling fringes, a deep red lipstick adding an extra pop to her porcelain skin.

She cooed back at you, “Because you are my friend, and I was not going to take no for an answer.” As you relayed to your friend earlier in the week, you weren’t one of those “party girls” or “flappers” as they call it.

Seokjin roamed about his mansion, at the top of the stairwell, tapping his feet on the marble flooring below him, sipping on a glass of champagne in his hand. His handsomeness granted numerous glances and coos toward his towering figure. He sported his signature, jet-black mullet that’s slicked back. His white tuxedo glowed effervescently, blinding anyone within his perimeter. Plush, pink lips decorated his dashing face.

He busied himself in obtaining another glass of champagne as another server passed by. But when he turned away to face the entrance of the palace, his heart dropped, his lips parted distinctively, tongue sliding along the bottom of his lip. It’s as if everything and everyone around him had stopped, whilst his almond-shaped eyes landed on a Jane that he grew to be familiar with many years ago—two decades to be exact.

Ever since you both departed, he wanted desperately to find you again just as you did. He missed you, and you missed him, and there hadn’t been a day that passed when you didn’t cross his mind. You both grew up in the same quaint town, but then Jin’s family moved to the big city and that was when everything changed.

You both drifted apart, and it was now a good twenty years later that you both finally crossed paths. But see, that was only part of the plan. Seokjin hosted these grand parties, and spread the word throughout the entire city to fuck his way out of a heartbreak he thought was silly to have. He treasured the attention and the numerous dolls flaunting themselves at him—that eventually he’d forgotten all about you.

It was something about big gatherings, quite like these that made your insides churn. A sense of anxiety resided within you when being in the presence of countless individuals. You felt like all of their gazes were solely focused on you; you’d never been a fan of attention. Although, you were unaware this party would change your life.

Drastically.

You desperately attempted to shake off your anxiousness, scanning the environment for anything or something you could do or use as an escape. And then…

Champagne.

Perfect. You thought to yourself, hurriedly scurrying toward the server, grabbing a glass filled with fizzing liquor.

“Thank you,” You noted with a smile and took a sip, an attempt to calm your nerves. But you still couldn’t shake that feeling, that someone was watching you. And it was as if your worst nightmare had come true, because followed by that feeling, there was a voice. One that was calling your name.

“____?” Your body trembled of chills, and you turned around to discover the voice that was noticeably behind you. When your eyes met the tall, slender form, you nearly dropped your wine glass into shattering pieces.

With a gasp, “Seokjin?” you questioned, placing a hand over your chest where a thumping heart hides from behind. His pupils sparkled with something you thought was admiration, and then he shined those perfect, pearly whites that stole your heart in that moment. You thought to yourself, This is it. He’s the one.

“It’s been so long. Wow, I am speechless.” He stated, with an extended hand, “May I?” He probed, rising his eyebrows. You foolishly lended him your hand, his plump lips pressed a gentle kiss on top.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, curious to understand how the universe joined you both together in this moment.

“Follow me,” was all he said. He lead you through the bustling crowd, and into his office. He removed the jacket of his tuxedo while you admired the maroon-tinted walls paired with large bookshelves and persian rugs decorated the space—modern art pieces adding an extra touch. One in particular stood out to you, in which Jin noticed your stare didn’t break away.

“Edward Hopper’s Automat,” He added, whilst standing beside you and relishing the sight of gorgeous pearls that decorated your neckline—thanks to Betty. He was stunned at the beautiful woman you blossomed into. Considering that the last memory he had of you, was when he’d been taken away in a locomobile, and there you stood at the end of the dirt road—with puffy, wet eyes as you cried out his name, begging him to not leave. And so did he, as he waved you goodbye and tears streamed down his cheeks. It was when his entire world fell apart.

Jin lost himself for a moment, reminiscing on the past. “Seokjin?” You said for now the third time, an attempt to get his attention.

“Yes? I- My apologies,” he replied. You shook it off with a giggle, a warmth having filled up your heart. “No need to worry.” You dropped your head low, as a flash of heat washed upon your face, and suddenly you felt shy.

You felt the cool embrace from Jin’s palm on your back, and when you looked up to meet his gaze, he was already staring at you.

With a sigh of relief, he slipped, “I’ve missed you, ____.” You wrapped your arms around his neck to pull him in for a hug, and he smelt of the liquor he’d been dousing himself in, paired with a tantalizing scent of cologne, notes of bergamot, tangerine and a hint of fruity persimmon. As you pull away, you peer into each other’s eyes, his slender fingers graze underneath your chin and you both lock lips with one another—his own tasted of the wine they’d been soaked in from earlier. The amount of desire drowned by your kisses sent a wave of heat through the both of you, and before you could think of pulling away to catch your own breath, Jin pulled away, his fingers lacing into yours to lead you toward the master bedroom.

“I missed you too,” you replied, maybe a little too late, but you still made him smile. His hands found purchase on your small back, “I can’t believe that you’re finally here. I don’t think I’ve ever been more happier in my life.” You caressed his broad shoulders, admiring how he towered over you. Oh how handsome he’d become, you thought.

It was as if both of you read each other’s minds, an unspoken tension between the two of you—like gravity pulled you two together, your actions in tune with each other. He laid on top of you, caressing your body and placing gentle kisses along your jawline and onto your collarbone. His silky sheets felt like bliss under your now scorching skin.

“Seokjin,” You moaned. His fingers found the zipper on the side of your dress, and he removed his bow tie and waistcoat, while undressing himself completely. He gently pulled the delicate material of your dress down and off your body.

“So beautiful,” He slipped, while trailing kisses along your leg and worshiping your body as if he was truly in love with you—especially when he entered you and buried himself to the hilt.

He was your first and he knew this. When you slipped, “I’ve never- Oh!” He simply caressed your cheek and planted kisses onto your now swollen lips, drips of sweat clinging on his forehead, your hands grazing along his back—the heels of your feet digging into his bottom. You couldn’t get the rest of your sentence out, the feeling of his member too much for your being, but there was this nostalgic sentiment that followed afterwards—a drawn out moan muffled by kisses.

“You’re saying that a Jane like you hasn’t had any nookie? Ever?” He chimed in with a chuckle. You slapped his arm in reply, “Well, don’t make fun of me now!”

But instead, you both broke out into a laughter, having completely forgotten about the party that continued on just one floor below.

“You feel so amazing,” Jin moaned, thrusting his hips into your core, your walls clenched relentlessly around him and it made his cock throb. Leaks of pre-cum oozed into you paired with your own wetness, soaking his shaft completely.

“Oh, Please don’t stop!” He picked up the pace and rammed into you, losing control of himself, so much that the headboard knocked against the wall in a beat-making manner. “Don’t stop! Yes, yes!” You egged him on, fueling his hunger.

“You’re such a doll, you know that?” He slipped between breaths. Your being now glued to the sheets from the sweat that accumulated.

He eventually slowed his momentum as an orgasm shortly approached. Your walls contracted around him repeatedly, and you were instantly drowned in euphoria. You hadn’t processed that Jin’s fingers were rubbing your clit furiously, making your orgasm crash upon you. And right after, you felt the warmth of his semen painting your walls—his bedroom now filled with the harmony of your moans.

Seokjin fell beside you on the bed, his chest rising and falling.

“That was amazing,” He slipped in between breaths. But to his surprise, you’d risen from the bed to re-dress yourself.

“Hey…” He hopped up on his feet, his flaccid cock jumping in the process. “Where you going?” He asked, grabbing your wrist.

“I-I shouldn’t keep Betty waiting…” You trailed off, his eyebrows quirked upwards. “She’s my friend. I came with her tonight.” His strong grip pulled you closer toward him; his fingers caressed your face.

“When will I see you again?” He asked, his grip on you becoming tighter. You shrugged your shoulders, because you weren’t sure when you’d see him again or if you’d have the chance to. Some part of you had hope because you know where he lives now, and you know he’s not far away and out of reach.

When you attempted to pull away, he pulled you back again, “Cash or check?” You contemplated a few moments, and with a tilt of your head, you tiptoed to give him a quick peck.

But it all just felt like a dream. One that you didn’t know would come crashing down. Because that’s all you can remember now. His sheets, his face, his voice, his length, and his scent—everything was Seokjin.

—

You came back and more than once. But the next few times, you came alone. It became a routine, almost. You’d join him during the night, and the two of you would escape into the part of his mansion where no one was around—everyone else having occupied the lower level and the courtyard. He’d always bring you to his bedroom, never letting you out in public together. You should have known that was a sign.

Anytime you both were together, you were alone. Because truth is, Seokjin was embarrassed. He held a high status and couldn’t be seen with someone like you. That’s what he told himself. He thought you wouldn’t have come back after the first night, but then you proved him wrong. And he wasn’t going to turn down free sex, especially since you were inexperienced—which gave him more power in the bedroom. He simply went with the flow, taking you as you gave to him.

Yet, you didn’t understand any of it. Especially when one night you took the lead, riding him with your breasts on full display. He moaned your name repeatedly and admitted, “I love you, ____.” And you fell for it, you actually believed him, with his cock fully sheathed inside of you. You were both wrapped up in the moment, your feels at their maximum. Except, you meant it when you replied, “I love you too, Seokjin.” That was the difference.

But one night, he slipped.

You paraded through his estate during one of his parties, brushing past numerous guests and bumping into some, but you couldn’t find him anywhere. He’d normally await for your arrival at the top of the stairwell, but he wasn’t there. He wasn’t in the courtyard or the balcony or the pool. Your heart thumped with a never-ending beat, and you couldn’t ignore the feeling.

Eventually, you found yourself entering the room that you remember oh so well, and you wished you hadn’t. The sight you witnessed sent a burning ache within your chest. Moans and groans filled the atmosphere as you neared the bed that contained those golden sheets you’d become familiar with. To say you were horrified was an understatement. Jin was plunging into another woman while another woman sat on the other woman’s face, a sudden churn of your stomach ascended—you felt as though everything you consumed that  day would come right back up.

“S-Seokjin?” You let out, and he abruptly stopped his motions, snapping his gaze toward you. His eyes blown wide and lips parted.

“Fuck!” He spilled, stumbling out of the woman he was in. You turned away, heading beeline for the door. He quickly found his grip on you, and you fought him off, pushing him away and continuously slapping him away.

“How could you? How?!” You screamed. The sound of your heels clicking against the marble floor echoed throughout the palace, as you strutted out and never looked back.

He knew that he fucked up, because truth is, he didn’t even know what he really wanted—but he knew he was selfish. He continued hosting more wingdings, and he never stopped screwing more women. He convinced himself that you were just another Jane he checked off his “To do” list. Because that’s who Seokjin had become. He was no longer that sweet, innocent little boy you once knew. He was no longer your only best friend that you could trust. He was no longer who you thought he was.

—

After receiving the test results from your doctor, that’s when everything sunk in, and you made a promise to yourself that you’d eliminate the abuse of caffeine and tobacco you’d taken within your diet. Although somehow, someway, Seokjin found out that you were pregnant (more than likely it was Betty who told him at his still ongoing wingdings, since you spilled who Mr. Worldwide Handsome is), and he had the guts to show himself at your workplace. He paraded through the establishment, calling out your name. To your embarrassment, you remained at your station, internally cursing yourself for having gotten involved with him.

“____!” He raged, searching for your tired figure. You let out a sigh of exhaustion. And there he stood, with creased slacks in his million-dollar man attire, but his gaze was only focused on you.

“____, we need to talk.” He reassured to you, but too loud for prying eyes nearby. You swiped away the sweat that clung to your forehead.

“Well, I am working. How dare you barge in like this as if you have the right?” You retort with a hint of rage in your tone.

He took a deep breath, not wanting to hear it from you. “Listen, I didn’t come to cause any trouble, alright? We need to talk about my baby.”

You scoffed in reply, “Your baby?” His eyes widen slightly, “I am the one carrying our child! This is our baby, not just yours!” He ran his fingers through his hair in a frustrated manner.

“Last I remember, you were too busy having nookie with those quiff’s who were in the same bed you had knocked me up!” Your chest heaves of anger, suddenly feeling overwhelmed.

“You can’t just show up here like you’re this-this- bimbo! Because you’re not!” You hadn’t even realized you’d been yelling the entire time, gaining the attention from your nearby co-workers—who attentively watch your riled up figure, courtesy of your hormones.

Jin attempted to speak, “____, I’m-” but then you cut him off, tiredly yelling, “Beat it, Jin!”

His face instantly contorted into an expression you didn’t like to witness. It was a face of pure defeat. His jaw clenched under your stare, but he turned the other cheek and strutted away. You can’t say you felt sorry for him or embarrassed that you called him out because deep down, you knew that he brought everything upon himself.

—

You had a baby girl, and the moment you met eyes with her, was when you promised yourself you would climb mountains, swim oceans, and fight any battle to protect and love her the correct way—because she is you and you are her. The first two months were tough, yet Seokjin was nowhere to be found. Betty had been there for you through every step of the way, and you were beyond grateful for that. Although, you felt guilty for not letting Seokjin see his daughter, because after all she is still yours and his child. You asked Betty to accompany you to his mansion, where you had hoped to encounter him—but to no avail, you turned up with nothing. The entire palace was abandoned, like a wasteland. No automobiles, no servants, no Jane’s, no Seokjin.

A few days later on your way home from work, you overheard a few pedestrians gossiping about him. “Mr. Worldwide Handsome? I can’t believe it! Is it true? That he’s really on the run?” One of them says, the other woman replies, “Look, it’s in the paper!” Your eyebrows furrow on the spot.

“Pardon me. Can I see that?” You probe, pointing to the newspaper the two ladies were observing, and surely they were right. His photo was in the daily paper, with the headline of the name of Mr. Worldwide Handsome. He was wanted for bootlegging. He never told you who he really was, all he mentioned to you was that he was indeed Mr. Worldwide Handsome, but never confided in you about his supposed work.

Now he was gone, and you had a feeling that he was never coming back, because the first night when you two were reunited, it was in that moment, just as he’d practiced with numerous other women for years—Seokjin had one goal in mind:

To get her.

[pixelfun20]

Flower Fields, Ch 1

Summary: Season 7 of Hermitcraft has begun, and their newest and youngest member, Tubbo, is more than ready to prove himself in the eyes of his friends. New memories are made and friendships are forged, but old ghosts from the past still linger, and Tubbo will soon discover that fate has a way of letting things come full circle.

Notes: This an fic idea I legitimately came up with yesterday, based off of @give-grian-rights ‘s Watcher!Tubbo and Watcher!Tommy AU (I hope you don’t mind! I just loved this idea). I wrote this a single evening, let it sit for the night, and decided to publish it today. I hope you guys like it! Just to note, I haven’t finalized a title (or plot, besides some major points) yet, so if y’all have any ideas, let me know!

Chapter 1:

I'm not yours, and you're not mine

But we can sit and pass the time

For a moment, he floated in darkness.

Then in the next, he was falling through the air.

He didn’t fall far, thankfully, and his impact was cushioned by another body right underneath him.

Tubbo groaned, blinking against the bright rays of the sun as he tried to adjust from the darkness that had just encompassed him. He shifted, feeling rough cloth underneath him, and realized he was lying on someone.

“Oh! Sorry!” He exclaimed, swiftly moving off the other. He looked down as he saw a man with dark brown hair, a beard, and a leather jacket sit up, rolling his shoulders with a wince. “I think I spawned right on top of you, xB.”

xBCrafted just chuckled, pulling himself up to his feet. Tubbo followed him, cracking his back as he went, and looked around, trying to discern where he was.

Ah, man. It seemed like they had spawned on a small, sandy island, that was, worst of all, completely devoid of trees. Already it was crowding with the arrival of the other Hermits, with a few more pairs repeating the same situation as he and xB, spawning one on top of the other in the enclosed space. In the distance, he could see a large mooshroom island looming above the waves, but besides that there was nothing in sight.

“Looks like we’ll be going for a swim today!” xB chirped as Iskall spawned a foot or so away from them, landing face-first in the sand. “X wasn’t lying when he said we’d have a tricky time starting the Season.”

“And here I was hoping to stay dry,” Tubbo sighed as Iskall shot up, spluttering sand in the air. The two of them laughed at his sorry state.

“Very funny, you two,” the elder man grumbled. Iskall85, or Iskall as he was commonly known, looked considerably older than the two friends, perhaps in his early thirties. He had semi-long, scraggly brown hair and a cybernetic eye, as well as a green sweatshirt and brown vest.

“Oho, is that Scar?” xB exclaimed. Tubbo followed his gaze, and sure enough, a man in a purple bathrobe and dyed-white hair had just spawned, half in the water. Ah, GoodTimesWithScar was an odd one, alright, he thought with a laugh.

“What did he do?” Tubbo giggled. Scar turned towards them, seeming to hear his comment, and put his hands on his hips.

“I’m sorry, Tubbo,” he announced semi-solemnly. “The wizard life has chosen me.”

Iskall nearly cackled at that, throwing his head back, and xB and Tubbo joined him. Trust Scar to find new and creative ways to start the season! Tubbo made a mental note to drop by in a few weeks and see where this new bit got him.

“Looking good, Scar!” Stress said, coming up behind him. The shortest of the Hermits, she wore a pink jacket and kept her straight brown hair short and to the chin. “How’re you doing, Tub?”

“Great!” Tubbo chirped back. “Excited to start the Season right.”

“Let me know if you need anything, love,” she added, clapping her hands together. “That goes for all of you! I’d chat for longer, but Mumbo and I have some plans we need to discuss. See you all in a bit!” And with that she was gone, hopping over to the other side of the island. Scar went right on her heels, jogging over to Cubfan135 (a balding man in a lab coat around Iskall’s age), who was standing next to Mumbo Jumbo.

Tubbo scanned over the rapidly growing group of people, grinning once he caught sight of a flash of black-striped yellow armor in the crowd. 

“Hey! X!” He called out, waving. A man fully covered in armor, painted to resemble a bee, looked over to them. Through his vizor, Tubbo could see the corners of his brown eyes crinkle in the tell-tale sign of a smile, and he approached the trio. “Love the outfit!”

“Thank you, Tubbo,” XisumaVoid replied, patting him on the shoulder. “I’m quite liking your new design, too.”

Tubbo fought back a blush, looking down at himself. Like the elder man, he’d changed up his usual outfit to celebrate the newest mob addition to Season 6, the bees. He’d changed into a yellow jacket with black stripes on the sleeves over a gray shirt, as well as black pants with a yellow stripe down the sides. 

“Alrighty, I’ll be leaving you two to your father-son bonding,” Iskall cut in, waving a hand as he walked off. “I’m going to go catch up with Keralis.”

“Oh, will you stop with that!” Xisuma said good-naturedly as Tubbo really did his best not to blush. xB laughed again. Iskall just whistled, walking over to where Keralis, a man in his late thirties in a blue shirt and jeans, had just spawned. The server’s admin turned back to Tubbo. “Sorry about that. You know how he can be.”

Tubbo just shook his head a bit, trying to suppress a smile. Ah, it’d been far too long since the Hermits had all been in one place like this. He’d missed the action of it all.

He, Xisuma, and xB chatted together for a few minutes as everyone spawned in and caught their bearings. It seemed everyone had big plans for the Season. While he and Xisuma had gone with a bee theme, xB was apparently planning to really Hermit out the season, far away from spawn. Scar was certainly embracing the wizard part of himself, and rumor had it BDubs and Doc were going to be neighbors, which was a recipe for disaster and, more importantly, funny stories. 

“Okay, everyone!” It was Keralis’ shout that drew the twenty-some players out of their respective conversations. Almost unconsciously, they’d formed an oval around the perimeter of their tiny spawn island. “Intro time! Let’s go, X!”

“What? Why me?” Xisuma protested, but Keralis just laughed and took his place back in the circle.

“C’mon, admin,” Tubbo teased him with an elbow to the side. Xisuma sighed, rolling his shoulders, then stepped out into the center of the island.

“Alright everyone. Welcome to Hermitcraft Season 7! Go!” He clapped his hands together and dashed back towards the shore, the circle immediately breaking up as the Hermits split into their groups and dove into the ocean. Tubbo laughed as he waved goodbye to xB, who took off in a different direction as he went to follow X.

The water was nice and lukewarm, and soon enough Tubbo was backstroking over the ocean. He looked up at the bright blue sky, and smiled.

~~~~~~~~~

They spent most of the first day collecting supplies. 

As it turned out, both FalseSymmetry, Hypnotizd, and ZombieCleo had decided to go in the same direction as he and Xisuma, so they ended up gathering their first bits of wood and stone together. Then there was some issue with the server that caused Xisuma to have to dive deep into the server code, in the open, at midnight, so their first night went without much sleep and with a lot of mob fighting instead.

“Well,” Cleo said the next morning, twirling her axe as Tubbo set to cooking some meat for breakfast. “That could have gone better.”

“I think the first night went just fine, thank you very much,” False shot back, sharpening her newly-minted stone sword. “I’m going to be honest, though, I’m not used to going out at night without an elytra. Or armor. Or a decent sword.”

“Hey, but did you see how many mobs I killed?” Tubbo put in, pulling out some pork chops and tossing one to Cleo. “I’m a god, I tell you.”

“Yes,” Xisuma replied. He was still sitting on one of the beds they’d made, and was double checking some of the code. “God of giving me heart attacks.”

“Not my fault you messed up part of the code! I saved your life!”

“I’d suggest you remember who bandaged that arrow wound, kid.”

Tubbo’s hand flew to his shoulder, where his jacket was torn slightly, and he blushed. “I’m not a kid!”

Everyone turned and gave him a flat look, and Tubbo blushed harder, looking down. It was no secret that he was, by far, the youngest person on the server. Most players were in their late twenties, like False and Impulse, to their late thirties, like Scar and Doc. Even the youngest before he’d arrived had been Mumbo and xB, at 24 and 19 respectively. At just barely 16, Tubbo was, well, a child compared to them.

Loathe as he was to admit it. It had been hard enough in the beginning, when he’d arrived unexpectedly at the beginning of Season 6. No one had been expecting any new players to join that Season, much less a mentally scarred 14-year-old, and he’d ended up being coddled for the first six months or so. Heck, he’d lived with Xisuma until he’d grown so tired of it he’d had to run off and make his own base without asking him, because the answer would have been no.

He was perfectly capable of living on his own! It was just… well, Tubbo knew he wasn’t as good as the others. He couldn’t make the huge, rolling complexes or over complicated redstone machines that did everything for you like the other hermits did. Of course, it made sense; he had a lot less experience and was still learning these things. But it didn’t help the fact that the others, well, they didn’t look down on him, per se, but they were always a little too willing to help, a little too protective. 

“Sure,” Cleo was drawling teasingly, drawing him out of his thoughts. Tubbo snorted and looked down at his breakfast with a shake of his head, starting to eat. 

“Oh, let him be,” Hypno put in, grabbing some food for himself. “I remember being that age. Young and ready to take on the world. At least he doesn't have any creaky old bones. I’m already feeling my back in the mornings.”

“Alrighty then!” Xisuma announced after a moment of silence, rising from his bed and closing the admin screens. “Looks like all the post-spawn bugs have been taken care of. I’m ready to head out for the day.”

“I guess this is where we all say goodbye, then,” False replied, twirling her sword. “I have the best idea for my base this season, but I gotta go north from here.”

“Tubbo and I are heading east.”

“West for me,” Cleo put in.

Hypno just shrugged. “I figured I’d wander for a bit before settling down.”

“No planning?” Tubbo asked, then grinned, glad for the change of subject. “I like your style, Hypno.”

The bandana-ed man inclined his head at him with a smile. He wasn’t a new player to the server, not at all, but from what Tubbo knew he hadn’t been around for a few years. Prior to the last few days as they’d prepared to jump Seasons, he’d hardly even heard of the man before, and thus didn’t know him too well.

Xisuma clapped Tubbo’s shoulder, eyes crinkling from that helmet-obscured smile of his. 

“Ready to go?” he asked.

Tubbo whooped. “Bees, here we come!”

~~~~~~~~~

Perfect.

That was the only way Tubbo could describe the place he’d come across. He sat in the branches of one of the tallest trees in the area, looking out to where the forest he’d been traversing ended and the plains biome, scattered with flowers in small patches around, with gentle hills rolling even further in the distance.

It was an idyllic location, and perfect for his plans for the Season.

Another day had passed, marking it Day 3 of Season 7. After that first somewhat disastrous night, he and Xisuma had separated from their initial group and travelled to find a base together. Xisuma had decided, for some reason, that he was going to build his base in the middle of the jungle, so they had set up camp there for the night. Come dawn, however, Tubbo was ready to go and scout for a place of his own, and with a promise to check in with Xisuma every day or so, he’d set off that morning.

It was early afternoon, now, and honestly, Tubbo was pleased with how quickly he’d found his spot. It was only a half-day’s journey, while walking, from Xisuma, so once he’d gotten elytra he’d be able to visit whenever he wanted. Besides that, news had it that Keralis and Beef were only a little ways out, which would be fun since Tubbo didn’t know them too well.

Humming quietly, Tubbo reached into his inventory and took out the only belonging he’d taken with him from Season 6－a medium-sized notebook, filled with sketches and notes on what he wanted to build and how to do it. Last Season he hadn’t been ambitious enough; Tubbo had started late thanks to living with Xisuma and then had focused on just having a base of his own that by the end of the season it had looked puny compared to the many buildings his friends/guardians had made.

He wasn’t making that mistake again. Tubbo had grand plans for this Season’s megabase, and he was going to make sure it blew everyone else out of the water.

Okay, maybe that was an over exaggeration. But Tommy had always said to aim high.

His heart twisted a bit, as it always did when he thought of his old friends. Back then, he’d known people his own age, and Wilbur and Techno had rarely held back against him when they’d interacted with him, whether through words or PvP.

He wondered how they were doing; it’d been almost two years since he’d last seen or heard from them. He wondered if they’d moved on.

He wondered if they knew he was still alive.

Tubbo shook his head, chasing the depressing thoughts out of his mind. He’d found himself thinking of his old friends less and less over the last year and half, as he’d settled into life in Hermitcraft and begun to heal from what had happened to him. Not to say he didn’t miss them, that he wasn’t missing something in his life, but, well. Even though he thought of them every once in a while, the numerous letters he’d written to Tommy, unable to be sent, had been left behind with Season 6, in a way of really starting anew.

Doc had explained it best. Life moved on, and sometimes it was best to just hold onto the old memories and work on making new ones.

He’d taken that advice to heart. Tubbo flipped open his notebook to one of the middle pages, holding it out and comparing his sketch to the open plains before him.

Yes. This biome would do quite nicely.

Season 7 was going to be something great.