#i literally dont have the time. that last point is true the other ones not so much

[lunar-fey]

ohhhh my god. okay. so. my aunt does like, she buys random junk in bulk from retail wholesalers and then resells it on like, facebook marketplace and ebay and stuff. whatever. so my mom works for her. makes a flat $50 a day, regardless of the fact that shes disabled and doing hard labor for at least 8 hours a day, often 10+. and min wage here is $10 an hour but mom argued that $50 a day is still more than what she would make working the same hours at an actual job because of taxes...like girl that would be 50% taxes. you do not pay that fucking much. so thats already Bad.

but today mom shows me a video of a knife theyre gonna sell, and i watch 2 seconds and i realize its an automatic knife, and i tell her hey. thats illegal to possess in this state. let alone sell! and mom is like ohhh [aunt] knows what shes doing itll be fine.... we sell knives on there all the time she just doesnt put pictures and calls them something else on the listing to get around fb/ebays policies :)

LIKE. HELLO. THATS NOT BETTER. YOURE COMMITTING MULTIPLE CRIMES. *AS YOUR JOB.* and she was just like "its not a big deal she knows what shes doing." folks, this is the same aunt that, very illegally, paid me to sort through her clients confidential tax documents and bank records and stuff. because she works for a bank. and took the records home to sort them. i dont think she DOES know what shes doing, actually!

[salad-storm]

Lighthouse as a vast domain with a lighthouse keeper marked by the lonely and some guy chilling at the beach except they're an avatar of the end = ships will get lost and be very existential about it

[tgcg]

part 1 of something specific

TG: oh my god you get it

CG: OF COURSE I FUCKING DO, DAVE. I’LL ALLOW MYSELF CREDIT FOR ONE GOOD THING, AND THAT’S THE FACT THAT I KNOW HOW TO CONSUME MEDIA CORRECTLY.

TG: you understand me

TG: so many damn times ive tried to turn john over on this business and he doesnt listen

TG: like you dont need to be gay to see how naruto and sasuke are the romance of the fuckin century man its not rocket science dare i say it is elementary level 

CG: IT’S BASIC READING COMPREHENSION, I AGREE.

CG: I’M NOT ABOUT TO EVEN *TRY* TO UNDERSTAND EARTH’S BIASES TO CERTAIN FORMS OF ROMANCE, BUT IS IT LITERALLY JUST BECAUSE THEY’RE BOTH GUYS?

TG: i dunno i dont think hes like

TG: homophobic or something

TG: i think if anyone is the number one ally to anything its probably john yknow hed have your back bro if you were all up and being bisexual on earth and people werent scrambling hand over foot away from you because youre an alien 

TG: but just because you were that 

TG: thing

TG: bisexual

CG: YEAH, THAT THING.

TG: he wouldnt care man

TG: he wouldnt give a shit or fuck about it probably

CG: SPEAKING OF LABELS THOUGH!

TG: aw man are you about to pull out the quadrant shiz on my boys

TG: are you gonna tell me naruto and sasuke got a hate on for each other or something cus thats 

CG: OH JEGUS NO, DAVE. THAT WOULD BE COMPLETELY MISSING THE POINT OF THEIR RELATIONSHIP’S GROWTH AND THEIR ENTIRE DYNAMIC, NEVERMIND THE PURPOSE OF THE STORY ITSELF.

TG: alright lay it on me shercock homos ill be your watson watching you with the big twinkling eyes of a newborn fawn

TG: sleuth this shit like you were there when kishimoto invented it

TG: his alien understudy rises from the caverns of anime hell clutching the scroll of one universally understood truth and with his otaku disciples there to listen he takes a deep breath and delivers his groundquaking sermon to the masses

TG: jesus take the mic

CG: I’M CLUTCHING THE MICROPHONE IN MY CALLOUSED AND BONE-DRY TOUCHSTUMPS, BODY WEARY AND ON THE BRINK OF CAVING IN ON ITSELF, BUT I SPEAK WITH A STALWART DETERMINATION THAT WILL RING TRUE THROUGHOUT THE COSMOS FOR SWEEPS TO COME. THEY WILL WRITE MY FUCKING WORDS IN THE STARS, DAVE. IT’LL BE ALL THEY HAVE LEFT OF ME EVENTUALLY, BECAUSE I’LL PREACH IT HARD AND FEVERISH UNTIL THIS MORTAL COIL DECIDES IT’S FINALLY HAD ENOUGH OF PUTTING MY PATHETIC HALF-CORPSE THROUGH THE RINGER BY MAKING ME GET UP EVERY MORNING LIKE IT’S SOME KIND OF JOKE, AND FINALLY LETS ME KEEL OVER. THAT, DAVE, IS MY CRUCIFIXION. IT REPEATS ITSELF, OUROBOROS-LIKE, EVERY CYCLE, AND MAY WELL LAST UNTIL THE COLLAPSE OF PARADOX SPACE ITSELF SINCE THEY APPARENTLY FIND IT SO INCREDIBLY HILARIOUS. THEY BETTER MARTYR THE FUCK OUT OF ME. YOU BETTER PERSONALLY SEE TO IT THAT I AM MARTYRED TO *SHIT*.

TG: done and done

CG: THANK YOU. WHERE WAS I? OH RIGHT. NARUTO SHIP ANALYSIS.

[sukunasweetheart]

That schoolboy sukuna art you reblogged got me thinking🤔its a bit basic but still😵‍💫 tsundere bully!sukuna being so mean to popular!reader cause he likes her‼️ Anytime one of his friends suggest that he likes her, he gets 10x meaner. Meanwhile reader genuinely thinks the dude that just tore up her homework HATES her. Then one day he goes too far and really embarrasses her so she starts crying while her friends try to comfort her (he threw dirty water on her or something🤷‍♀️) Obviously readers had enough of him so she confronts him the next time they see each other alone, only for that dude to end up blurting out how much he likes her. Readers standing there flabbergasted😦🧍‍♀️ and then tells him off (he deserves it💀) . They dont see each other until their highschool reunion 5 years later(?) Sukunas matured alot but of course readers still hesitant to even talk to him. Blahblahblah he apologizes, reader forgives him after they hang out a few times and then BOOM dating‼️

This was such a anticlimactic end but i hope you get what i mean. Reader doesn't start liking him until monthsss after the reunion. Sukuna still seeing her as his first love/crush except he's not a weirdo about it anymore. And cause he probably just threw all his focus on taking over the family business (this is canon gege told me)

Literally i lowk fw this idea sooo hard... like childhood bully that grows up around you, little sukuna has always been a harrassing you ever since youve moved into the neighbourhood, and it carries over into highschool as well...

Its like, to the point where you have personal beef with him, always ready to square up when he's around...

but the fact that he never has his lackeys with him when he does bully you, and the one time someone did try to give you some silly treatment while he was watching, he gave him the beating of his life behind closed doors...

Sukuna having silly wet dreams of you and then being extra mean the next day. You retaliate physically, giving dainty little punches and kicks, you know, the kind that does zero damage, but for some reason he backs off easier than usual that day and walks away, muttering something under his breath, something that you can't quite hear clearly.

after all those years of pretending to hate you by calling you names and teasing you relentlessly, sukuna has the gall to confess right after graduation. he just blurts it out kind of accidentally, in the spur of the moment, because he feels like it'll be his last chance to ever come true with his feelings.

except, he ends up getting the scolding of his life, as you tell him off for the pestering way he's treated you, only for him to turn around and tell you he has feelings for you?! you tell him that it was cowardly of him, and he should take this as a lesson to treat the people he likes better, before turning on your heel and leaving him in the dust. you're his first love, and also his first heartbreak.

couple of years later, there's a highschool reunion happening, and although you wanted to avoid it because of the awkwardness of having to meet sukuna, you still ended up going because you really miss your old highschool friends.

you're at a nice restaurant with your buddies, enjoying your time, yet also noticing sukuna's missing presence in the back of your mind... you probably think he's not coming to avoid you. not that you care for it.

things were going smoothly, but then he eventually did show up. late to the party, as if he were the protagonist... everyone goes silent for a moment when he shows up, because he's arguably changed the most out of you all...

the rather bold tattoos done all over his body, piercings, and the black nail polish, how much he's bulked up in muscle. and that black button-up shirt is... well, very erotic. no longer that awkward, juvenile teenager you've always pictured him as. sukuna was never ugly per se, but goodness, this kind of glow up was really unexpected. and it turned out that he ended up taking over his family business, which kept him quite busy the past few years.

you catch his eye for a moment across the table, but you quickly look the other way. maybe he might've gotten hotter over the years, but you're not sure about that damn personality of his.

it seemed like he was finding it difficult to approach you in front of everyone else - he chases after you only when the meeting is over, and everyone had begun to go home. you feel a little nervous about the encounter, but the first thing he does is apologise, which gets you feeling a lot better about him as a person. sometimes, time does change a person.

and then sukuna tells you he wants to take you out for a meal, and asks you for your number... your old, easygoing self takes over for a moment. certainly a meal or two wouldn't hurt, would it?

(sukuna goes home and starts kicking his feet in bed that night, after scoring your number - beginning his lovesick era.)

[vashtijoy]

I wanted to ask if you could clear this up for me, if you play in third semester and you get to Maruki's Reality, we see Akechi appear to turn himself in on Christmas Eve so, Im not sure exactly why we dont see him do so when you go back to The True Reality? what was the reason for it, Im not clear on it a bits

Hi! In short, Atlus want to maintain the mystery of whether Akechi is canonically dead or alive. Thanks for your question!

... okay, okay. More seriously, Akechi arriving on Christmas Eve is the first use we see Maruki make of his enhanced power. Akechi is present in Shibuya to take the rap for Ren because Maruki puts him there. So when that is later undone, Akechi is no longer there—and Ren was arrested and detained, all along. Just as he was in the vanilla game.

but doesn't maruki's reality start on 12/31?

We-ell... kind of. As he says in his 1/1 journal entry, Maruki finally merges Mementos with reality late on 12/31, when Ren has his dream about the butterfly. But he's already using his new power before that point, to do nice things for his friends, the Phantom Thieves.

It's not just Akechi in Shibuya. The Christmas Eve party in Royal is very different from its counterpart in vanilla—well, sure. Ren's not in detention, so the whole mood is different. They talk about Akechi, but then they just move on to have fun. Well, it is Christmas.

But the New Year's party is a strange sequence of pleasant events. Futaba calls it "an actual, real-life good ending"! We hear not just that Ren's conviction is likely to be overturned, but that Shido is to be prosecuted for the crimes he confessed. In February, of course, Sae will tell us that it took months just to document his confession, and that he's being prosecuted only for breaches of electoral and funding law.

Something else to note about the Royal Christmas and New Year events: to my ear, they have a glib, superficial tone. Don't you think so? Matters of import come up, but the team move past them, to talk about trivialities, about their party and the fun they're having. It's kind of nice; this is who they might have been without the weight of responsibility, of grief. But equally, that weight should be there.

This is illustrated in the script. Both events feature a long string of sound effect emotes:

These SE lines are never translated, but what you see here is Joker, Ryuji, and Ann laughing—waraigoe, the sound of laughter, literally "a laughing voice". This laugh, on New Year's Eve, continues through the whole group, not just the Phantom Thieves but also Sojiro and even Sae.

Coincidence? There are group laughs later, after Joker is released, and at the big confidant party. But those are just attributed to 全員 zen'in ("everybody"), or 一同 ichidou ("all present"). These lists of identical laugh lines at the start of Maruki's reality are just a little bit unnerving. By the time of Maruki's bad ending, those brief lapses into reality, with all of its unpleasantness, are gone.

So yes, in small ways, Maruki is using his power even before he merges Mementos with reality late on 12/31. And here's one last thing to pay attention to on 12/24. You know how Maruki alters reality itself, by altering people—by changing everyone's cognition so that the world agrees on its new nature? Watch Sae, during this scene.

She's surprised, sure—but she never seems surprised that Akechi is alive. She's just surprised that he's turning himself in. In the vanilla scene, on the other hand, she explicitly says that Akechi is missing. Ren can bring up that Akechi is back from the dead, but Sae doesn't seem to care!

Wheels within wheels.

so where's akechi in the "real" timeline?

Can of worms. Which "real timeline"? There are two, depending on whether or not you maxed Akechi's confidant. In the vanilla timeline, you don't get him to rank 8 before the engine room, and he dies behind the door. But in the Royal timeline, you do get him to rank 8, and you keep your promise, and that gives Akechi the will to live.

(Yes, this is what I currently believe. And more than that, I think it's the true meaning of that creator interview, "the player's feelings are equivalent to the protagonist's cognition". It doesn't mean that guy on the platform can be a randomer in his school uniform or a ghost!—it means there's one route where he's dead, and one where he's alive.)

In the game as released, we don't know where Akechi is. But in his February deleted scene—where he's clearly alive—he tells us where he was, for precisely this reason.

He wasn't in Shibuya at all. He was at this refuge, wherever it is, going into hiding. He wasn't around to save Ren.

If this scene had been left in, this would have been the moment Akechi came out of safety, out of hiding, and gave up on his life—to do what's right once more, to confirm his 12/24 decision, and face justice in Ren's place. If you think Maruki altered him, and he would never have turned himself in otherwise—watch this scene again. Yeah, we were robbed.

what else does akechi say?

On 2/2, Akechi tells us how it happened:

Let's take a quick look at that line in Japanese:

Akechi けど、君たちと戦ったあと⋯{F1 82}ともう一度会うまで僕の中にハッキリした記憶はなかった。 kedo, kimi-tachi to tatakatta ato... [Ren] to mou ichido au made boku no naka ni hakkiri shita kioku wa nakatta But after I fought against you all, I had a gap in my memory that ended with meeting up with [Ren] again. [lit. But, after I fought with you and the others… until I met back up with [Ren], I had no clear memories.]

hakkiri shita—"clear; distinct; vivid; plain; explicit; well-defined; sharp; loud and clear". hakkiri to kioku shiteiru—"to remember clearly". hakkiri shinai kioku—"unclear memories". hakkiri shita kioku—"clear memories".

Note that well. Akechi is not saying that he remembers nothing. He's saying he remembers nothing clear, which is substantively different, and not conveyed well by the English "a gap in my memory".

(He also switches address mid-sentence—in the first half of the line, he's addressing Ren as kimi ("you"), but then he cuts off, and addresses him as Ren. It looks like he switches from talking directly to Ren to talking to Maruki. And if you remember him being a dick about that moment on 1/2... this might be the line that reveals that actually, yeah, their promise in the engine room really did matter to him.)

Akechi believes he's dead on 2/2; I think there can be no question of that. There isn't a big reveal that he was alive all the time. And you can't even get this scene if you didn't max his confidant, if you didn't keep the promise—if Akechi didn't survive.

But there is an afterlife in the Persona universe, from which characters have even spoken—so I'd like to hear a little more, some day, about these "unclear memories" of his.

but how can he be alive

Bear in mind that the third semester looks identical (besides that engine room flashback on 1/2), regardless of whether or not you maxed Akechi's confidant. That's to say, whether Akechi dies in the engine room or not, the third semester does not change.

That means that everyone's perceptions of it cannot change. That includes Akechi. If he was dead and Maruki revived him, then he has no memories before he awakens in Shibuya, because he was dead. But if he wasn't dead—if he was at the refuge we see him at in the deleted scene, or in Hawaii, or on the Moon—if Maruki believes that he was dead, and attempts to revive him based on that conviction—

Well, then he creates a world where Goro Akechi died behind those shutters, doesn't he? A world where Akechi remembers nothing before he awakens in Shibuya, because now he was dead for those weeks. A world where, even though you saved him, Akechi died in the engine room. Just like in the vanilla timeline.

revision history

Click here for the latest version.

v1.2 (2024/07/13)—wording.

v1.1 (2024/07/12)—added a bit about how akechi bookends 1/2 and 2/2.

v1.0 (2024/07/12)—first posted.

[kinardsboy]

Prefacing this by saying i don’t hate Eddie or buddie in any way, im only tagging this as anti buddie so people can filter out criticism on a ship that they enjoy ❤️

This post doesnt really have a specific theme, I’m just kinda rambling here so bear with me lol

Something that has been bothering me for a while about the gay eddie hc, is that at least the canon basis/evidence for it, is honestly a little homophobic? Most often people claim he’s gay because of how he treats women poorly and how many failed relationships he’s been in and I just.. first off have you MET a straight man?? 😭 thats how they are..(For the most part). Secondly it’s a negative stereotype that gay men dont treat women well, so having that be one of your main points to make Eddie gay rubs me the wrong way, especially when it comes from non queer men. The other main point I see is the quote “it feels like a performance” but the thing about that quote is , its taken extremely out of context.

He was literally talking about being set up on dates, being FORCED to date instead of letting it happen naturally. Thats what feels like a performance.

I have never understood why Eddie also cant be bisexual if queer at all. he has been clearly shown to enjoy having sex with women.

And another thing that bothers me is that buddie fans shout all the time about wanting whats best for Buck, and then want him shoved in a relationship with a man that has never treated a romantic partner fairly. Again, this isnt Eddie hate but the guy needs serious therapy. He’s a good friend and a good dad, ultimately hes a good person too but he’s not a good partner and that wouldnt change just because he dates Buck.

Bob’s are constantly forcing a heteronormative role onto Buck, especially when it comes to taking care of Christopher and it just, thats not going to solve anything? Like at all? It really makes me feel like they dont understand mlm relationships at all, and what they look like and how they work, especially based on their reactions to how Tommy and Buck interact.

People probably arent going to like this take, but I see fics or posts that constantly put Christopher as Buck’s 1 priority and I just dont think its true. Dont get me wrong I really enjoy the relationship they have, but if any kid on the show has his highest priority, its Jee. Buck spends so much time with Chris because Eddie needs help, if Henren needed help or babysitting more often Buck would seem close to Denny and Mara as well. Im not saying Buck doesnt care or want to hang out with Chris of course, but I feel like people definitely overplay their relationship to an extreme extent. The same goes for buddie in general, especially these last few seasons I dont see buck and Eddie being any closer than eddie and hen or buck and hen or something. Especially considering in 704 Eddie literally didnt invite him to trivia which he knows (or should know) Buck likes lol

And another thing about Christopher is that they turn him into this buddie love child who is SO obsessed with his dad’s sexuality and its just so weird to me. They completely strip him of any independence and personality and turn him into this buddie advocate, and then put him away when he’s no longer useful or needed. Its ableism. Chris is his own character and his story shouldnt focus around Buddie or his dads romantic endeavors AT ALL.

Anyway if you read all of this thanks for indulging my rambling lol

[no-droids]

Another Rough Day

gif credit @chrishemsworht

Part Twenty of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 13.7K

Warnings: Angst, violence, canon-typical blood and gore, language, hurt/comfort

A/N: i wanna thank yall for sticking around during my hermit era, in the time ive been gone i am now officially a junior at a university majoring in aerospace and it’s a fuckin nightmare and i hate everything and god help us all literally kill me and I will be posting INCREDIBLY slowly because of that (I’m talkin weeks or months in between updates yall, im sorry I can’t dedicate more time to this but I am going to finish this fic within the next handful of chapters idk maybe 5 or 6 so you shouldn’t have to wait too too long).  As a heads up there will be hard angst as we enter the final arc, there will be hurt and it’ll get dark but everything is gonna turn out alright so thanks for sticking with me and continuing to stick with me. im sorry if you dont like it or your expectations were subverted or if this isn’t what you’d hoped it would be after following and waiting around for so long but this was planned a long time ago and it took me a good year or two to recognize that I started writing this fic for me and now I’m going to end it writing for me and I hope yall can respect that

ALSO I asked my best BEST FRIEND in the entire world @cptnbvcks to collaborate with me for this after we both took a very long break from creating and she drew some GORGEOUS artwork for this chapter so it will be posted at the end, everyone please go follow her and say hello

ps brittany girl you’re a fuckin menace i had to use my own two ears and listen to ethan literally say the words “the mandalorian cums, hard” what the fuck was that im actually suing

anyways chapter below the cut lets get serious yall

---

You take two of them down before they even realize they’re being attacked.

Your aim is as swift and steady as if Din were behind your shoulder right now, calmly pointing out which stationary tree to hit next in rapid succession.  You’re positioned perfectly at the bottom of the ramp to take full advantage of the ambush, the only thing running through your mind is strategy and the constant calculating of angles and ricochets.  The other three troopers are trapped inside the open Crest and you’re right next to a large boulder that you can step behind for cover, but it proves unnecessary as the rumors were apparently true.

They’re… awful.

Not a single blaster is even fired in your direction—you think you see maybe one panicked red shot bounce around in the hull, but that’s it.  The troopers fumble for their guns and trip over each other at the unexpected attack—a few scream like children through the modulators, but you’re temporarily deaf to anything besides the screech of your weapon hitting its target and the crumpling of armored bodies.

Later on, if someone were to ask you to describe exactly what happened—who died first, who ran for cover, who cried out for help—you don’t think you’d be able to.  You don’t even really feel like a person right now.  The entire thing is cold, robotic survival instinct, pure ruthlessness rising in your soul for the first time in your life.  It feels sick.  Wrong in your bones.  Born from preemptive defense in fear of your life, but that doesn’t mean you stop.  Not until all of them stop moving.

You empty the entire fucking canister for a handful of stormtroopers, firing plasma and char marks across every square inch of the pristine hull even after the last one drops.  Your heart is beating too fast, your finger keeps pulling the trigger multiple times even after the blaster clicks uselessly, completely empty and beeping a warning that it must’ve begun emitting ages ago.  Being out of ammo scares you—you suddenly feel vulnerable, even though the very far away logical part of your mind reminds you that they have to all be dead at this point and no physical threat was ever able to graze you.

Regardless, you quickly spin behind the boulder and grab another canister from your belt, giving it a spare check for leaks while the empty one slides and drops to the rocky ground.  It’s the first time you’ve ever had to reload this weapon instead of just pointing and shooting, but the mechanics are relatively simple and your brain makes up for your lack of coherent thoughts with lightning fast perception.  What's difficult is that your hands are starting to shake now that you’re not aiming, you’re not breathing correctly because you’re not really breathing at all.  You can’t tell the difference between the adrenaline-fueled dissociative silence that muffles everything around you or if it really is just that quiet now.  No more clatter of armor, no modulated voices or terrified screams.  No blasters, no footsteps along the ramp, no birds singing.

You quickly pause to lift your elbow and check the enormous eyes blinking up at you, tiny claws still holding tight to the fabric of your tunic and completely unharmed, and then you force yourself to move.  The blaster is held out in front of you while you walk forward and your finger rests on the trigger, begging to be pulled again.  It’s suspenseful and terrifying in a different way than before—now it’s less about psyching yourself up for confrontation and more about the fact that any sudden movement could mean your very swift end.

Silence.  Silence.  You’re numb and raw at the same time, walking up the ramp as your eyes fly everywhere, not even registering the blood or gore, just searching for movement.  You don’t know if you feel like a predator or prey, you’re that much more brutal and inhuman because of how fucking terrified you are.  You count four stormtroopers in the hull laying crumpled and still on the metal floor, but the one in the far corner only has blood on his shoulder.  You quickly swing the blaster around to remedy that, but then—

“P-Please don’t kill me!”

His words remind you of something.  Reality, maybe.  A world outside yourself and the kid’s survival, the living beings behind the bloody armor your enemies wear.

It’s a miracle your finger stays hovering over the trigger, and you watch him throw the blaster at your feet with a clang and scramble to show you his empty hands.  “Please don’t kill me, please don’t kill me—I’m not loyal to the Empire, I don’t want to be here, please, I don’t want to die, I don’t want to die—”

Behind the mask, your expression furrows.  Stormtroopers are loyal to the bitter end, what is he saying?  They embrace their expendiality, it’s the only thing that makes them any sort of a real threat.  Kuiil told you horror stories about them during your childhood, the cloning facilities and the propaganda they’re force fed since infancy.  It’s nearly impossible to find one who hasn’t been raised from birth to serve the Empire, no matter how crumbled and trace its remaining authority may be.

No, this is a trap, it has to be.  Your expression twists with dread after hearing him speak, readjusting your aim with the blaster and preparing yourself for the years of nightmares that’ll follow—but then he cries out, “Wait!” and then removes his helmet with trembling hands.

You pause, staring down at him in shock.

It’s him, you recognize him immediately.  It’s the same face from a hologram puck you bore into your memory, spent multiple days staring at so you’d be able to spot him under any disguise or circumstances.  Oshua Ryler.  Your quarry, the fifth puck, the one Din was out Maker knows where searching for before this entire mess happened.  A stormtrooper?  His puck said nothing about the Empire, this doesn’t make any sense.  What is he doing here?  Stormtroopers don’t have pucks, they don’t have bounties or relatives or loved ones searching for them.  They’re brainwashed, replaceable, faceless soldiers in suits of armor and they don’t even have names.

“Please don’t kill me,” he begs again, staring at you with wide eyes even as he cowers.  “I have a family, I-I just want to go home, please—”

“Shut up.”  You can’t think straight with him crying like that and you’re wasting so much time just standing here trying to process when your brain had to literally shut itself down to even do the things you’ve already done.  You have to kill him and escape, you have to—you can’t trust this complication, not with the tiny claws currently digging into your back and reminding you of your purpose, but it was so much easier when he had on a helmet.  You hate looking at his face.  It’s going to haunt your dreams now, just like the man you stabbed on Corellia.

“Please don’t kill me—please don’t kill me,” he screws his eyes up and breathes over and over instead, and your stomach wrenches with disgust.  His posture and expression are so fucking pitiful, you can barely keep your eyes on him through the overwhelming nausea and aversion that climbs up your throat.  He’s with the Empire, and they’re looking for the baby.  You know what needs to be done.  Pull the trigger, just one small movement from you and it’ll be all over.  It would be the easiest thing in the world, it would be so easy.

But then instead, you ask, “Why are you a stormtrooper?”

“I’m n-not—I hate the Empire—”

“The Empire is ashes.”  You don’t know if you’re yelling or whispering with how much blood is roaring through your ears.  “They hold no power anymore.  Why are you with them?”

“Because the one thing they have left is money!”  The quarry shrills the words at you, ghostly pale to the point of turning green.  “Th-They buy troopers now—they opened up a whole new market for the smugglers, there’s a base nearby that’s used for training and…”  He stares wide eyed at you and gulps.  “C-Conditioning.”

Your brain is already going a trillion lightyears an hour and it doesn’t have the capacity to empathize or understand anything beyond the child’s survival and the relevant details right now.  “Were they expecting the baby?”

“W-What?”  He squeaks up at you.

“Was the bounty put out on you a trap set by the Empire?”  You ask him, lifting your free arm just enough to flash him the tiny child clinging to your side.  “He said they’re coming after the baby, so tell me if this was planned from the beginning.”

“Who is ‘he’?”  The stormtrooper asks, furrowing his eyebrows and looking around.  “What are you talki—”

“Tell me if the bounty on you was a trap to take this baby!”  You roar, your blaster shaking as you aim it down at him.  Your mind is acutely focused on the tiny claws hanging onto your tunic, the continued safety of the kid and the life or death situation facing him that you were given absolutely no information about.  “Now—”

“If it was I didn’t know!”  He quickly cries out, pleading with you and clamping his eyes shut in terror under the barrel sight.  “I don’t know anything about a b-baby, or a bounty!  They just put blasters in our hands and told us to search for a ship and to bring back anyone we find alive, I swear!”

You’re silent for a moment, biting your lip under the mask and caught halfway between discerning and stalling.  You could still kill him.  You should still kill him, time is ticking down and more troopers could be heading this way any second.

Shit.  “Who put the bounty out on you?”  You ask sharply.  It might not be a completely fair question, but he can’t exactly blame you for not feeling completely fair right now.

“I—I don’t know,” he gasps, clutching his bleeding shoulder.  “Could’ve been anyone—my mother, Cyra, o-or my dad, Obediah, or Thia, or Benja, or S—”

“Thia,” you interrupt his rambling, catching the slurred word and repeating it back to him.

“Yes!”  Oshua jerks his head up, tears and hope immediately filling his eyes at the sound of her name, “Yes, Thiadura Celi Ryler, that’s my sister!”

Maker, if he’s lying, then he’s fucking brilliant at it.  You look towards the cockpit of the ship, biting your lip under the mask.  Get to Nevarro, tell Karga and he’ll… something.  Din was cut off before he finished.  Help?  Know what to do?  You’re lost, but you have a clear directive and the precious seconds are sliding by.  The controls are right up there, two steps to the ladder and less than a minute until you’re rising into the atmosphere.

But then you think back to the terror in Din’s voice.  The blistering panic that made him speak faster and with more urgency than you’ve ever heard from him.  Get to Nevarro.  Tell Karga.  Get to Nevarro.  Tell Karga.

You look back at the quarry.  “How many of you are there?”

“At the base?  Around three hundred,” he immediately spills.  “Half of us are in the hole right now getting brainwashed, they do it in shifts, but they can be mobilized in a few hours.  There were a lot of bodies outside when we were ordered to split off, maybe a third of our squadron, but the rest were still shooting at whatever was—”

“So around a hundred left,”  You finish breathlessly, almost wanting him to speak faster and cut to the chase so you can calculate quicker.  “How many were dispatched on the search?”

“Uh, there were eight groups of five sent in each major direction,” he informs you, still trembling on the ground.  “Told us not to come back until we covered the entire sector.”

Of which, four you’ve already taken care of.  In other circumstances, you’d be nauseated at the thought, but right now, it’s just another number to subtract, just more panicked math in Din’s frightening absence.  That leaves at least sixty troopers left wherever the base is, minimum, and likely a couple more hours before they’ve combed the sector.  If this wasn’t a preconceived trap purposefully set for the kid, then that means reinforcements haven’t arrived yet but likely will soon.  And if this is a base meant for training and conditioning, then that also means there’s a chance not all of them will be loyal yet.

You make the decision immediately.

“Okay,” you announce, clicking the blaster’s safety switch and holstering it, sounding lightyears more certain than you feel.  “Then you’re going to help me carry out a rescue mission, and I’ll take you back to your sister.”

“You…”  He looks uncertain, blinking at your blaster and slowly lowering his hands.  “You want to rescue the men?”

Ideally?  Sure.  Realistically?  You don’t say anything in response.  Instead, you kick his regulation firearm at your feet further away from the quarry just in case your judgment is flawed, and then turn around and grab one of the bodies behind you.

Your adrenaline is still blaring so fast that you only just barely note the severity of what you’ve just done and what you’re continuing to do.  The corpses aren’t real to you right now, they’re inanimate things that you need out of your ship before you can close the doors to it.  They are, however, heavy as fuck, but the only other adult here has a wound in his arm from the gun on your hip.  Regardless, you have experience with lifting dead weight without a big, strong, capable man to do it for you.

“Help me out here, kid,” you mutter over your shoulder, and in response, you feel his claws dig in and climb up just a little bit until he can peek out in front of you.  Thankfully, the burden is suddenly lifted and you can quickly slide the dead troopers down the ramp with ease.  It takes hardly any time at all—you just yank and haul and release and all four of them tumble the rest of the way all by themselves.

When you stand back up, Oshua hasn’t moved and he’s looking at you with a pale, queasy expression.  Glancing down, you see that your white robe is now stained with streaks and patches of rusty blood.  Instead of swallowing back bile at the sight and bolting to the shower to scrub off every last remaining trace, you breeze past it, noting nothing more than a change of color.  Dirtying your white, pristine clothing with the consequences of protecting this baby—you’d rather have blood-soaked fabric with an unharmed kid clinging to you than any other combination of those things.

“Can you make it up to the cockpit?”  You ask the quarry, kicking his rifle off the ship before closing the ramp and then gesturing up the ladder.  Your voice is calm and steady but your hands are beginning to shake again.  “I need as much information as possible about the base.”  You know that’s where Din is, judging from the wall of blaster screeches that drowned him out through the comm.  Logically, you know you could be headed right into a trap, and every instinct inside you wants to find safety, but… you just cannot imagine flying the ship away from this planet without Din onboard.  It isn’t fucking happening, you’ve made your choice.

Without waiting for a response, you climb the ladder and plop down in the pilot’s seat of the Crest.  While Oshua finds some way to clamber up the steps behind you in bulky stormtrooper armor with one good arm, you hold the kid closer on your lap and begin flight checking.  Din will be fucking furious, but the scolding you’ll be sure to get is the least of your worries right now.  Following his instructions and going back to Nevarro is just making shit infinitely more dangerous for him, turning what could be a potential rescue mission into an undeniable suicide mission.  Even if Karga somehow decides to send a few guild members along to infiltrate the base, it’ll be a war you want to avoid.

Besides.  What did you always tell him about running away from him, even when he instructs you to?

It’s just… not really your thing.

---

They’re everywhere.

They crawl like flies out of the base, and for every single body that falls, three more spill from the open doors.  Rapid fire plasma beams launch from the end of Din’s blaster, melting white armor with every twitch of his gloved finger.  Their aim is terrible, as is to be expected, but the sheer number of them more than makes up for it, as is by design.

Din’s heart pounds with exertion, his breath comes in ragged huffs through the modulator as his helmet identifies and isolates which body is closest to him, which body he needs to bring down next.  His blaster is so hot it nearly burns his hand, even through the thick gloves he wears.  When he runs out of ammo, he holsters the pistol and swings his rifle from around his shoulder, spinning to catch a handful of troopers behind him in the obliterating blast.

He’s not thinking much.  He can’t think, even though your safety and that of his son is currently dangling by a thread.  If he focuses on that, he’ll be dead before he can even picture your faces.  He just reacts, he maims and kills without a single thought in his mind.  Blood splatters, screams and sirens blare as he becomes surrounded by more and more troopers.  Din can hear the sound of plasma colliding and ricocheting off his armor; every single one of them is a potential injury he could currently have but might not even be able to feel right now.

His helmet starts beeping rapidly and he turns just enough to see, highlighted in bright red on the screen, two enormous artillery turrets slowly rising up out of the roof of the imperial base.  He feels a fierce flash of anger burn in his chest, it’s like a lightning strike to his veins.

Din needs to go.

And yet… if he was another man.  If he wasn’t a father, or a husband, if he had no family and no attachments like the creed declared he should, he would go.  With just a twitch of his fingers, he could be launching into the sky and retreating as far away from this battlefield as he could reasonably get.  He’s never been the type to run from a threat, but this isn’t just a threat.  Dozens of troopers are gaining on him, they’re trampling their own dead to get within range.  Plasma pings off his shoulder, another one hits his back as they flank from behind.  He can feel the heat through the sizzling beskar, he can see them surrounding him on all sides, and the propulsion trigger for his jetpack is right there under his wrist.

Din holds his ground and continues firing, he plants his feet firmly to the dirt with only one thought in his mind.

Run, sweet girl.  Run.

---

You type in commands to scan for Din’s signal, quickly locating it through the Crest’s computer onboard.  Not far from here, three minutes or less.  The ship rumbles to life beneath you, slowly lifting off the rocky ground and rotating in place as it hovers.  It’s not on autopilot but you feel like you are, you can barely feel your hands as they move the yoke forward and the Crest takes off in the direction of Din’s blinking frequency.

“Tell me about defenses,” you instruct Oshua, restlessly bouncing your leg while the baby coos.

“Two plasma turrets on top of the base,” the quarry quickly answers.  “There’s usually guards stationed around the perimeter, but everyone who’s capable will be outside right now.”

Your mouth twists downwards under the mask.  Blasters don’t scare you much from this high up, but Din’s armor doesn’t cover every inch of his body, he’s not completely invincible.  Doubt churns in your stomach, but you have to stay focused on one task at a time so you don’t get overwhelmed.  The turrets, then.  “Are they automatic?”

“Manual,” he corrects with a shake of his head.

“Radar?”

“Old.  Only engages above fifty meters.”

You eye your altitude and dip the Crest considerably, beginning to weave through the rocky canyons and dodging crumbling cliffs while you travel.  “What about ships?”

“None,” Oshua says, “except for a passenger shuttle used for transport.  TIEs are flown in the Vesta sector, this base is remote and used for basic training only.”

“Anything else?”  You ask, stomach twisting with the knowledge that barely four questions is all you’ve got.  You’re planning to drop into an imperial base to save the man you love and you can’t think of a single other question?  

The quarry shrugs, and your heart slams, does somersaults in your chest at the mere notion that you could fucking die here.  Today, in two minutes or less, you could die here.  The child in your lap looking over the ship’s front panel with a quiet determination in his eyes could die here.  Din could already be dead—that signal broadcasts his location to this computer regardless of whether he’s still breathing or not.  He could already be gone and you’d be flying the baby right into a trap without knowing any differently.

Whelp, you think while taking a deep breath, some strangely calm existential acceptance beginning to flood your soul.  If he isn’t dead, he will be soon if you don’t make it to him on time.

You immediately lift your wrist and speak into the communicator.  “Mando?”  You have no idea if he can hear you, but you need to try anyway.  Your voice is still firm, there’s a strength to it you don’t feel in your chest, but it certainly sounds convincing.  “I’m coming to get you.  Less than a minute to your location, do everything you can to get outside.  If you can’t, I’ll just… uh.  Try to figure something else out.”

That’s it.  That’s it, improvise until you don’t have to.  Even if you’re lacking confidence, you can at least scrounge up some conviction.  Your arms gain feeling again while you veer the Crest through the stony terrain, the familiar reverberations under your feet begin to fill your body with a powerful sense of purpose.  Your breaths begin to come steady, every falling rock you see through the transparisteel feels like it drops in slow motion, allowing you to evade them easily.  It would normally be stupidly dangerous to fly this low with so many unexpected obstacles and hazards narrowly missing the ship, but considering what you’re flying into, a few boulders seems comical.

“Where’s your helmet?”  Oshua asks out of nowhere, and for a second, you don’t think you heard him correctly.

But then it strikes you all at once what he’s attempting to imply, and the sheer lunacy of the thought is enough to make you laugh while you clutch the controls.  “I’m not a Mandalorian.”

“You wear the armor of one,” he points out… rather fairly, you have to admit.  “You cover your face like one.  You have a blaster that fires Philithiorium, a rare and expensive gas native to Mandalore’s stratosphere, and you’re a bounty hunter—”

“I’m not a Mandalorian.”  Your words are short and cutting, you have a daunting task to focus on and don’t feel like having small talk right now.  “I’m not a bounty hunter, either.”

But then again, Karga made you a member of the Guild, didn’t he?  He handed you Oshua’s puck and said this one is for you to find, and you are technically part of a Mandalorian clan.  All of this seems like it happened without your knowledge.  You may be marrying a Mandalorian, you may wear his armor and mother his child and shoot a blaster with his signet branded into it, but war isn’t in your blood.  This robe was a costume when you first made it, this armor was a relic that was restored as a hobby.  In a sense, it still feels that way.  The mask covering your face lended itself to a temporary surge of bravery earlier, but beyond that, the only thing that’s keeping you moving forward now is your family.  The man you love that may or may not be alive right now, the baby holding tight to your leg while the ship sways and weaves through the stony landscape.

Your eyes quickly flick down to the child in your lap, both of his three fingered hands clutching onto the stained fabric of your knee without moving a single inch.  He’d know, you tell yourself.  If his father is gone, he’d already know somehow.  Din is still alive, and he’s counting on you.

---

There’s too many for Din to handle.

They swarmed him, overpowered his endless artillery with massive numbers and there’s nothing he can do anymore.  The backs of his knees are kicked from behind and he slams down to the ground with a clatter, his sizzling hot blasters are ripped from him, and Din folds his hands calmly behind his back even as one of the stormtroopers barks out, “Binders,” to another one, who disappears quickly in response.  In the meantime, a few of them apparently decide to just attempt holding his arms in place, and their measly combined grip is almost enough to make him roll his eyes under the helmet.  These imperial soldiers are even more pitiful than they usually are, but his silent resolve to stall to ensure your escape is enough to keep him stationary and compliant for the time being.

Eventually, a few voices call out from beyond the crowd and there’s some movement from the back.  Dozens of troopers with their blasters all pointed at him begin to shuffle to make way, careful to keep their barrels aimed at him while a path slowly forms.  The crowd of white parts and a stormtrooper with a singular red pauldron on his right shoulder saunters confidently towards Din as he kneels on the ground.

An officer, he assumes.  Conveniently missing from the firefight, the scanner inside his helmet would’ve caught the change in color and Din would’ve made sure to kill him first.

“Well now, what do we have here?”  Comes his thin metallic voice through the tinny filter.  The officer studies him curiously for a few moments, before slowly looking down by his feet, reaching out one cheap, plastic covered foot to gently nudge the body of a dead trooper on the ground with a sigh.  “What a shame.”

Coward, he thinks, his lip curling with disgust under the helmet.

“This is an imperial training base,” he turns his attention back to Din to inform him when he doesn’t immediately respond, rather stupidly he might add.  “How were you able to find us?”

Silence.  The grip on hands held behind his back is even looser now.  He just tilts his chin up slightly in defiance, the scanner inside his helmet locating each weapon strapped to the man’s body and highlighting it red.  Small text boxes blink into existence under each one with a manufacturer and classification—a BlasTech E-11 rifle, a Merr-Sonn thermal detonator, a Kolvo vibroblade—and Din is severely unimpressed with the quality.  The detonator is the only weapon that even catches his eye, and that’s only because the chamber inside that houses the explosive baradium has a release mechanism that’s completely dead.  Useless, then.  Good to know.

After a long moment of quiet tension where Din refuses to speak and the officer continues to confidently scrutinize him, in some strange sort of silent battle of egos that only one seems to have a genuine interest in, another stormtrooper makes his way to the front, shoving past his fellow soldiers to address the superior in charge.

“Commander, we’ve sent out an alert for an intruder,” he tells him, slightly out of breath from running through the crowd in the lightweight armor.  Din wants to roll his eyes, but what he says next makes him snap to immediate attention.  “The fleet informed us that Moff Gideon is currently on route.”

Gideon.  The last time someone spoke that name, it was a quarry on Coruscant and you just barely managed to stop Din from suffocating the bastard for even saying it aloud before freezing him in carbonite.  It would’ve meant half the return on a hunt that lasted nearly a month but he saw red and his hand was crushing his windpipe before he realized what happened.  But he’s dead, Din thinks with a clenched jaw and fists tightening behind his back, he watched that TIE fighter explode and slam into the ground, crushing the man inside it.  The wreck was unsurvivable, he can’t be alive.

“For what?  This Mandalorian?”  The trooper in charge scoffs in response, and Din remains completely mute.

“Yes, sir,” the other one confirms.  “Orders were to capture him, alive.”

“Hm.”  The officer turns his attention back to him, less analyzing and more musing while he tilts his head.  “I see,” he eventually says, and he sounds like he’s grinning, before strolling slightly closer as Din stays completely still on his knees.  “He must want the beskar.  I’m sure it’s worth more than this entire battalion combined.”

All of a sudden, a gloved hand carelessly catches the rim of his helmet and tugs, and Din’s movement is explosive.  He launches off the ground, arms easily slipping from the pathetic grip they were being held in and his fist colliding with the side of the officer’s flimsy white helmet, the plastic making a deafening crack against his face.

Multiple hands immediately rush forward to grab him and yank him back down again while the commanding trooper stumbles backwards in shock, and Din amicably drops to his knees and folds his hands behind his back once more like nothing happened at all.

“Binders!”  A trooper behind him roars loudly once more, and a few men surrounding him begin trotting away this time.

The officer in red stands a few feet away from him now, grabbing his helmet and twisting it back to its proper position on his head where it was skewed.  There’s a shattered hole near his jaw where the material splintered and busted like the cheap piece of banthashit it is, and while he might normally feel pleased with himself for being able to see his skin peeking through, it just fills him with more righteous fury.  It’s such a punchable jaw.

After a few awkward moments of silence, the other one clears his throat and continues.  “He… has inquired about the location and status of a child that should be accompanying him.”

Din inhales deeply through his nose and grinds his teeth.  He wants to snap their necks one by one for even just mentioning his son, but there are just too many, more than even his whistling birds can neutralize.  Still, he gave you as much of a head start as physically possible.  You should be rising into the atmosphere right now, making the jump into hyperspace towards safety.  Karga will know what to do—he’ll protect his family, separate you and the boy so the threat is evenly dispersed instead of collected all in one place, and arm dozens of trained hunters to keep watch over you both individually.  It’s the best Din can do, and it’s the only thing keeping his knees planted on the ground and his body completely motionless while they continue speaking.

“We are combing the sector for a ship with as many men as we can afford to lose,” the trooper in red says, but his voice filter is shattered and now sounds like a puny little droid with a broken voice box, “but our numbers are unimpressive.  Assistance may be required.”

It’s too late, Din thinks, mouth twitching under the beskar with a satisfied smirk.  They’re wasting their time, looking for a ghost.  You’re both long gone by now.  They’ve got no idea you even exist—

“He also spoke of a girl.”

And then he feels his heart stop in his chest.  Every single cell in his body turns to fire, it’s a fucking miracle he doesn’t move a muscle in response.  His sweet girl, the one so far removed from the nightmare of the Empire that she made best friends with the orphans of it.  How the fuck did he know?  He shouldn’t even be breathing, let alone gathering information about you, how did he know?

But then Din thinks back, remembering your makeshift bed on the floor, your panicked eyes and heaving chest as the quarry taunted him with a sick little smile.  Who’s this, Mando?  She’s just darling, isn’t she?  Does Gideon know your crew has a lovely new addition?

“A girl?”

The trooper nods.  “Moff Gideon insisted that if the Mandalorian did not have a child with him, then a girl would likely be protecting him instead.”

He’s going to kill them, Din decides.  Every single one of these imperial pigs, every single soldier standing right now is a dead fucking man.  The blood pumping through his body suddenly turns to acid, deadly black hate poisoning his soul.  His heartbeat morphs into a war drum, the armor strapped to his limbs is the barrel of a gun.  He’s going to fucking kill them and leave an imperial base full of bodies to greet his old nemesis upon his return, and he’s going to enjoy every single second of it.

Except, then—

“Mando?”  The sweetest voice in existence suddenly crackles through the earpiece under his helmet.  “I’m coming to get you.  Less than a minute to your location, do everything you can to get outside.  If you can’t, I’ll just… uh.  Figure something else out.”

And, as Din kneels there in surrender, surrounded by a crowd of enemies he thought he destroyed long ago, all the anger—all the fury and defiance and murder surging through his veins—suddenly morphs to fear.

The emotion is so foreign and old to him, it feels like a face he barely recognizes and a name he can’t remember.  He’s panicked before.  He’s been in situations where a threat has made him blind with rage, he knows what it’s like to look death straight in the eyes and say that he’s busy and to come back another time.  This is different.  This is ice cold that freezes over beskar.

He can’t speak out loud to warn you—he can’t move his hands to press the button on the back of his helmet and allow him to talk without detection.  There’s plasma turrets on the roof of the base, he can see them right now.  The helmet’s scanners say they’re manned and engaged, and though he is outside and this is how you retrieved him before whenever he needed a quick escape, he has fifty fucking imperial blasters trained on him and you know absolutely nothing about this threat.  You’re flying right into a war zone and if either you or his son dies, he won’t ever be able to forgive himself.

Behind the helmet, his eyes fly to each and every trooper, wondering which blaster will be the one to do it.  Which weapon is going to be the one he can’t block in time when you descend, the one that’ll kill him right in front of you.  Which turret will be the one to obliterate the Crest with you and his son inside of it.

“Maker, where are those fucking binders—” he hears someone behind him snarl, but the white noise of pure terror roaring through his ears drowns them out.  His chest starts heaving against his will, sheer panic begins to blur his vision.  For the first time in his life, his armor feels too heavy, his lungs feel like one of these boulders are sitting on them instead of beskar.

All too soon, his helmet starts making a familiar sound that signals quietly in his ear, alerting him of an incoming ship, and the only thing he can physically do is count down the seconds to prepare himself for what is to come.

Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two…

Like lightning, Din breaks the grip of multiple troopers and surges up, tackling the officer in red to the ground.  There’s a clatter as they both slam into the rocky floor, but in the ensuing scuffle, he easily snatches the thermal detonator from his side holster and holds it up for everyone to see, before pressing the red button on the front and hearing it begin to beep rapidly.

---

You’re right on time.

The Crest rises up through the rocky cliffs surrounding the base and you spot the turrets you were warned about.  Weapons controls are already engaged and you’re too low to be detected by radar—you fire once, twice, and blast both of them to smithereens from behind before they can even rotate around to target you.

Alarms start wailing but the guns are destroyed.  It’s not comforting, though; blasters won’t touch you up here, but that doesn’t mean they can’t fire at Din on the ground.  Your eyes dart across the sea of white, looking for a flash of silver anywhere, and then you spot him instantly in the chaos.

For some reason, the troopers in his vicinity all seem to be bolting away from him.  Their rifles are down, clutched in their hands while they nearly fall over each other to run away as fast as possible, and your heart soars when you spot his jetpack firing up.  Din launches into the sky while another trooper is revealed underneath him, seeming to juggle something in his hands and then throw it into the crowd of retreating soldiers, but the sight of the man you love rising into the air while a flurry of blaster shots from the far edges of the imperial structure follow him gives you the confidence to immediately turn the guns down towards the horde of troopers.

“Which ones are in charge?”  You ask Oshua breathlessly, who leans forward and points out the transparisteel.

“Red pauldrons—” he barely has time to say it before you aim and fire at one of the troopers wearing red that was closest to Din, the plasma beam launching from the Crest so powerful and devastating that it outright obliterates the surface he’s laying on.  Pieces of shattered armor fly and a smoking crater of rubble is all that’s left behind, but your mind is whirling and you’re already onto someone else wearing red at the edges of the complex, and then two more near the doors, and then another—

To their credit, you think the sixty or so soldiers in training seem to figure out that you’re not aiming into the enormous collection of them.  If you were, the damage would be catastrophic and spraying everywhere, but you’re precise and meticulous with your shots, and the only ones who are loyal enough to the cause to hold still and raise their blasters at the incoming threat tend to be the ones you need to mow down anyways.  The rest of them scatter in all directions, scrambling over each other to escape and then disappearing into the distant boulders surrounding the base—but you notice that not a single one of them runs back inside the safety of its open doors.

The hull dips with the weight of Din dropping in, and relief floods your soul even as you continue raining hell down on the superiors in charge.  Any flash of color you see is a target, your eyes lose focus of everything, your vision blurs and turns monochrome as you just search for red.

“Lift up!”  You hear Din’s voice roar from the hull.  You can hear his rifle unloading through the open door.  “Now!  We have to go now!”

You press the button to shut the hull door with Din inside and punch it, rising so fast that the shove of gravity makes it difficult to keep your head up.  Through the sudden surge of downward force, you just barely manage to raise your incredibly heavy arm to push the button that pressurizes the Crest and ignites the launch boosters, preparing the vessel for space travel.  Outside the transparisteel, the gray sky begins darkening as the atmosphere eventually disappears.  The ship’s engines roar, burning so much fuel at once that you’re actually accelerating through the climb, you’re boosting through the gradual ease of gravity as the planet’s curvature and glow becomes softer and softer below you.

As soon as the blackness of space begins to fill the windows, the slight subsiding of force allows you to plug in the coordinates for Nevarro with less difficulty, but you’re still moving, still rising, still escaping.  You can’t find it within yourself to slow down, but then something catches your attention.

Claws suddenly dig sharp into your thigh, sharp enough to sting and cause you to wince, and you look down to see that the kid has gone incredibly tense.  Deadly tense.  Your heart is still pounding even though you’re away from danger, you’ve got Din in the hull, everyone is safe, and yet—

It flickers into existence all at once.  One second it’s just space, just the endless depths of nothingness spread out for light years in front of you, and within the blink of an eye it’s suddenly there.

A star destroyer.

Your body freezes in horrified awe, having never seen a ship so fucking big in your entire life.  It looks like a massive satellite, the size of an enormous asteroid instantly appearing in your vision and dwarfing the vastness of space around it.  All the stars you used to dream about are suddenly blotted out within a fraction of a second, terror so immense seizes your soul that you stop thinking.  You stop calculating, you stop being yourself for a split second that lasts an entire lifetime.

Before you can move a single muscle, the computer beeps quickly and lurches the Crest into hyperspace.

---

The stars streak across the transparisteel like so many times before.  Utter silence nearly deafens you with how abrupt it is after so much noise, but the peace it used to bring does nothing to quell your fear.  Everything is the same as it always was, same bursts of light as you hurdle faster than it towards Nevarro, same quiet, same rumbling hum of the ship.  But now, everything has changed.

You hear the quarry next to you suddenly inhale and exhale loudly, and it shocks you a little bit, reminds you that there’s a person next to you and another is on your lap.  Other people exist outside of the vision of death that just flickered out of existence just as quickly as it appeared.  They’re breathing, Oshua is shakily unbuckling his seatbelt, life is continuing on in the quiet cockpit but you can’t seem to move like he is.  You can’t seem to breathe like he is.  It’s only when the baby slowly maneuvers himself around on your thigh and blinks up at you, placing a tiny hand on your stomach that you finally feel air enter your lungs.

After a moment, you reach down and click open your seatbelt with trembling fingers, scooping the kid up in your arms and slowly attempting to stand.  Everything feels wobbly and dreamlike, you have to brace yourself on the headrest to prevent yourself from falling back into the chair again.

“That was…” Ryler mutters, his voice sounding foggy and distant, “uh.  A close one.”

You look over at him, recognizing that he’s speaking but not quite able to understand the words right now.  Red catches in your vision, and you blink down at the way he’s clutching his left shoulder, the smear of blood darkening the white armor he’s wearing.  You blink a few more times at the sight of it, and though it feels like you normally would be sickened at the wound, somehow shocked out of your state of shock, it does nothing to you.  When you look back up at his face, his expression seems strangely grateful, even when it’s screwed up in what you know must be excruciating pain.    You did that, a quiet voice whispers in your mind, even though the rest of it seems incredibly blank.

Instead of responding, you stumble a few steps over to the ladder, spinning around and hesitating for a moment.  You’re severely lacking in coherent thought, but one thing seems to break through.  You’re not sure if you have enough coordination to do this safely right now.  However, when there’s movement in your peripheral and you look to see Oshua gently offering his right arm to you, seeming to understand you’d like to use both hands for this, you snap back to your senses just the slightest bit and hug the baby tighter to your chest.  Carefully, you begin making the slow climb down the ladder with the kid, still trembling with the aftershocks of adrenaline.  Your limbs feel extra heavy, but eventually the floor meets your feet.

Din is standing there when you slowly turn around, armor gleaming and still as a statue, but he has his back to you.  His helmet is tilted down at the ground, and when you follow his gaze, you’re met with the sight of the bloodstains of dragged bodies that leave dark red streaks all the way up the ramp.

You feel something this time.  It’s… cold.  A burning, searing cold that creeps into your skin.  Like your heart decides to pump nitrogen through your chest instead of warm blood.  You did that.

There’s a sudden urge inside of you to speak, to address him and inform him of your presence, tell him everything is okay, everything worked out, but you can’t find it in yourself to say a single word.  You can’t find a single word to say.  The kid twists as best he can in your clutch, his ears drag against your chest to greet his father, but for some reason, there’s still a strange sense of fear in your bones.  It’s enough to wake you up slightly, it’s enough to tell you it’s not over yet.  There’s a terror in your heart that hasn’t left since he first called over the comm and begged you to run, a crippling dread that you thought climaxed after seeing that star destroyer appear, but it’s somehow only increased after laying eyes on him like this.

You watch as his helmet turns, slowly meeting the pauldron on his shoulder, and for some reason, you feel yourself harden.  Your feet brace against the metal floor like this is another threat you have to face, you let its unyielding metallic strength transfer up through the souls of your boots to your heart in your chest.

But the second you hear cheap white armor clatter as the quarry steps down the ladder behind you, Din bursts into movement.  He suddenly spins and storms up to you in one single step while catching your holstered blaster on your hip.  It’s out and aimed in the blink of an eye, and it’s a miracle you remember how to speak before he remembers how to kill.

“Mando—” you warn, just in time for the quarry to land on the floor of the hull and turn around to reveal his face.

Din holds there for a second, his helmet locked on Oshua’s features.  His gloved fingers twitch wildly on the trigger of your gun held over your shoulder, like he has to remind himself multiple times not to.  You hear Oshua’s armor clack while he likely raises one good arm in surrender, but then Din’s helmet moves a fraction of a millimeter to your face and holds there.  He just stares down at you, and the air feels heavy, your body feels heavy, the feather light child in your arms feels heavy.

Slowly, he lowers his arm, lets it fall while he continues looking at you from behind the visor.  You look back at him, unblinking, unfeeling, and there’s a few seconds that last an utter eternity where nobody moves.  Nobody speaks, nothing happens, but then a soft coo comes from your arms before you can finally break eye contact, knowing there are still some things that need to be done.

You eventually turn around and lift your chin to address Oshua.

“You have to go into carbonite,” you inform him quietly.  Your voice sounds strange, like it’s coming from outside of yourself.  “We’re taking you to Nevarro, and then you’ll be transported to your home planet. When they unfreeze you, your sister will be there to collect you.”

He looks uncertain, one hand still raised while the other hangs uselessly at his side, and you don’t blame him.

But you also don’t feel like saying anymore, not unless he decides he doesn’t want to go in willingly.  Normally you might’ve tried to empathize, offer him further reassurance beyond just a couple short sentences, but you don’t.  Speaking feels difficult, thinking feels difficult.  You’re still in survival mode, not active but reactive.  There’s also no reason for you to lie to him about this, and you can see him glance at Din standing silently behind you, who hasn’t moved a muscle.

He eventually nods and you walk him over to the chamber without another word, watch him turn to face you as he backs into the opening while you reach up towards the control panel.

But then there’s a moment.  One where you hesitate slightly, one where your vision flashes back to the sight of those bloodstains on the floor, and that burning cold fills you again, so cold it feels completely numb.

“I’m… sorry,” you whisper quietly to him, though your voice sounds so empty.  There’s so much emotion that should be there but isn’t, so much regret and pain that should break through but can’t.  “I’m sorry I… killed your friends.”

Later, you’ll think about how you felt absolutely nothing saying it.  Your heart doesn’t constrict with remorse at the mere words leaving your mouth, guilt doesn’t flood into your soul, pain doesn’t wrack through your bones.  You could’ve been saying anything at all and nobody would be able to tell the difference.

He blinks at you, flicking his eyes between yours for a second or two, but then you press the proper button and watch the gas quickly freeze him where he stands.  He’ll be conscious the entire time, but Karga will send him to the correct location and you have no doubt that this elemental purgatory is leagues better than where he just escaped from.  It’s a benefit being the last quarry to be retrieved—he’ll only have to spend a few days trapped in here before being reunited with his family.

When that’s done and Oshua is a complete statue in front of you, bulky white armor now colored a dull metallic gray and frozen in time, you will yourself to finally turn around to face the enormous mountain of a presence behind you.  The baby gently reaches out for him, but Din doesn’t move from where he’s stood.  Your blaster is still clutched tightly in his hand, and he isn’t looking at you.

Slowly, you walk over and stop directly in front of him in the middle of the hull, blinking at him while the helmet subtly moves to lock onto your face.  The kid begins wiggling in your arms, making soft impatient noises while you both stand in complete silence across from each other.

After a few moments, you hear him flick your blaster’s safety on by his side and then toss it carelessly to the ground.  It skids along the floor, light enough to be mostly quiet.  Gloves reach out as he carefully takes the kid from you and settles him in the crook of one arm, and then he looks you up and down, still not saying anything.

Your eyes follow his movement, watching his arm slowly reaching out to you, and you think he’s going to cup your jaw, or brush your hair back.  Give you some sort of physical reassurance since he hasn’t spoken a single word of it.

Instead, Din suddenly grabs the armor clinging to your chest and starts ripping it off you with one hand.  It clangs to the floor so loudly in the silence of hyperspace, the kid’s ears twitch and flutter with each shattering bang.  You hold still while he does it, you barely respond except the unavoidable movement your body experiences as the pauldron is yanked from your shoulder and thrown against the ground.  The ammo belt is tugged over your head and hurled away, the thigh braces are snatched from your legs and they clang to the floor, and the pearly, opalescent fabric revealed underneath is stained in dead man’s blood, rusty and in such great quantities that it shows up as brown instead of red.

“Are you hurt?”

He sounds… dead.  So monotonic that you can’t possibly gauge his emotional state.  He doesn’t move.   His fists don’t clench, he says every single word like it means the same exact thing as the last.  If nothing at all was a person who could speak, they’d use his tone of voice.

“No,” you eventually whisper.

The helmet nods once, and then he spins around and walks away without anything else.  Without saying anything, without touching you, or double checking you for injuries in case you were lying.  You stand utterly still while Din climbs the ladder with the kid cradled in one arm, and you don’t even flinch when the door to the cockpit slides shut behind him.  You have no idea how long you stand there in the splitting silence afterwards, numb and unmoving.

You feel… nothing.  Absolutely nothing.

The hard defenses you strapped to yourself today to reconcile the things you had to do are still high and strong, guarding your soul even if he stripped away your physical armor.  Self preservation is still animating your body, and your facial expression barely changes.  Your first thought, as soon as you remember that you can have one, is that there are things that still need to be done.  Tasks to complete.

Alone, you shower the lingering traces of blood off your body, the normally clear and refreshing water running a sickly, toxic brown.  Alone, your stomach rolls and suddenly decides to empty itself of the very little that was in it as the scalding drops rain down over you—mostly liquid and bile that easily rinses down the drain.  The water is too warm, it beats down on you like blazing hot sand pelting your skin in the desert.  You feel like you did those first few months with Din, where the silence was suffocating, where you’d only interact with the baby if he was on a hunt or if you could tell he didn’t know how to calm him when he was fussy.  If you were in hyperspace, you usually spent time by yourself in the hull while he lived in the cockpit, and if he decided he needed to be in the hull for whatever reason, then you’d trade places with him.  It was… isolating.  Lonely by yourself.  The quiet used to haunt you before it became your cherished friend, but now it’s a betrayer, a ghost that whispers memories and nightmares in your ears.

When you finally finish rinsing the blood from your skin and get dressed, you see the sheets that used to make up your bed now have fried holes in them from your charred plasma marks, the inside of the hull is covered in them and the trails of dried blood where you dragged the bodies down the ramp.  Your armor is still strewn about the hull, the kid’s hovering shield lays dead in the corner.  Everything you meticulously cleaned and organized and collected and created, now the scene of a bloodbath.  One committed by your hand, your blaster still laying uselessly on the floor forever linked to this atrocity.

You spare a glance towards the ladder, but you don’t want to come face to face with Din yet.  You already knew he’d be furious, but… you had hoped that he’d at least…

What?  At least what?  Comfort you?  Coddle you after you deliberately ignored his instructions?  What exactly, in the past year or so of learning Din’s inner workings and intricacies, would ever give you the impression that he’d come give you a big hug after you purposefully defied him?  You flew the kid directly into an imperial base after being told to protect him, you ignored every order he gave to you in the moments he thought would be his last, and though you did it to save his life, you have a feeling that Din has never valued his life even a fraction of what you do.

The misery stabs at your soul, but your mind is finally beginning to process things logically.  He’s alive, the kid is alive, the quarry is secure, and you’re all onboard the safety of this ship hurtling through hyperspace where nobody, not even the Empire, can touch you.  You weighed the consequences before making your decision, you did what you had to do.  If he wants to be mad, then he can fucking well be mad and you’ll find some way to comfort yourself.  At least he’s here being mad, at least he’s alive and safe and breathing and mad, and your rare act of disobedience is to thank for that.

Somewhere in the back of your mind, you realize it’s probably easier than it should be to reconcile the punishment.  Right now, you welcome the exclusion, the negativity and sorrow beating itself into your soul.  Four innocent people died today on this ship, gunned down under your blaster while they panicked and ran for cover.  You keep hearing their screams.

So you start to clean up the hull, needing another task to focus your thoughts on.  You work to erase every inch of the evidence of your deeds, make it disappear like the pool of blood Din once cleaned up while you were sleeping and never acknowledged again.  You only allow the bloodstains to fuck with your head for a single moment, and then you swallow back the nausea until you’re a blank slate again and sink to your knees with a rag in your hand.  After that, your vision stops focusing and it just becomes red contrasting against gunmetal gray, and you work tirelessly to get rid of all remaining traces of it.

Then you start on the blaster marks, you need them gone.  After a few informed attempts at mixing cleaning chemicals, you find one concoction that allows you to wipe them away like they’re nothing more than dirt that got tracked in.  The Crest’s oxygen recycling system works overdrive to constantly purify the air so you don’t get high or pass out, but your nose still stings.  It’s fine, it’s sterile, it burns a bit but it smells sharp and metallic and keeps you hyper focused on the task at hand.

After that’s done, you pick up the charred blankets and ball them up to throw into the trash vent.  You don’t feel anything as you do it.  You don’t think about how long it took you to collect these over months and months of being stuck on this ship, how comfortable they were when everything else was industrial and rigid, how many nights you spent with Din curled up in their softness while he breathed easy and warm.  Sheets are just luxuries, they can afford to be lost.

Next, you gather your armor and wipe it down with the rag, put it away along with your blaster.  The stained robe goes in the trash, along with the sheets and the blood soaked cloth you used to clean everything.  They’re all ruined, you’ll never be able to make them right again.

The hull is sparkling clean when you decide to take another shower.  Nothing on you is dirty except your hands, but you feel filthy.  Wrong, cold, numb, cold, stained, cold.

After scrubbing your skin raw under the water and changing clothes again, since you don’t really know what to do with yourself anymore, you slowly climb the ladder to the cockpit, keeping perfectly silent.  When you reach the upper platform and come face to face with the closed door, you can just barely hear Din’s whispered voice speaking quietly to the baby beyond it.

You raise your hand for a moment, hovering your knuckles over the metal, but then it eventually falls.  Instead, you look over and spot the corner, the same corner Din bunched himself into when he snapped at you for even suggesting going on a hunt with him, blew up at you for the mere notion of something happening like what happened today.  You back yourself into it in defeat and slowly sink down on the floor, resting your head against the metal and hugging your knees to your chest since you don’t have a tiny baby to take their place.

You can’t sleep.  You don’t even try, it’s pointless.  The concept feels foreign the longer you sit here by yourself.  You don’t hear Din or the baby anymore, but you feel… so fucking awful that it’s fitting that you don’t knock or go looking.  You don’t want to hold that sweet child with hands that were covered in blood just a few hours ago.  You killed more people than you can count on your fingers today, and of the ones who had done nothing wrong…  They screamed like younglings, ducked for cover and were able to fire off one single useless shot in the mayhem before you closed their eyes forever and left their bodies to rot in armor that wasn’t ever their choice to wear.

You didn’t know they were kidnapped and smuggled and forced into that situation.  You couldn’t have known, but that isn’t the point.  In this case, knowing doesn’t make one bit of difference.

You also can’t face Din yet, not like this.  You don’t want him to see you cowering, shattered with guilt over the decisions you made under pressure.  How will you ever get him to forgive you for not listening to him when you can’t even forgive yourself for the result of your choices?  Din is a hardened man who grew up in blasterfire and bloodshed, just because you love him doesn’t mean he’s going to magically become someone he isn’t.  You’re here letting guilt sink sharp claws into your chest over four dead men when he had a good fifty or more corpses scattered on the battlefield around him.  You decided to wear that armor, you decided to fly into an imperial base with the kid on your lap, and this is now your penance.  You’ll accept it with your back straight and your chin held high.

Figuratively, of course.  Physically, you’re smaller than you’ve ever been.  Crumpled up into a ball, taking up as little space as possible, curling up as tight as you can like an animal protecting all your vulnerable parts during a brutal attack.

So, since he isn’t here to comfort you himself, you just try to think about what he would tell you.  A long time ago, what would he tell you?

Din would tell you… that you killed someone.  Multiple people, this time.  He’d also tell you that it doesn’t matter what he tells you, what you could have reasonably foreseen or what you should have done.  The end result won’t change.  You own this now.  You’ll carry their deaths with you.

You take a few deep breaths, self-soothing with the undeniable truth that would be murmured matter of factly from his quiet voice.  He wouldn’t argue with you.  He wouldn’t deny the decisions you made or the consequences of them.  It happened, and at the end of the day, you either learn how to handle that, or you don’t.

And, for the four you did shoot, you were responsible for freeing ten times that amount.  You’re responsible for reuniting Oshua Ryler with his family, even if your place in yours is momentarily shunned.  You’d rather be out here alone than in there with the kid, wondering where his dad is or if he’s even still alive.  You rescued Din and now he gets to be here to shut this door on you, hold his son, and whisper calm reassurances to him.  If you listen really hard and imagine, you can pretend they’re for you, too.

That’s it.  Focus on them both, alive and well together.  Focus on the bodies wearing white armor that were moving, the ones that were bolting away from the imperial training base as fast as they could, free from the torture of imprisonment and conditioning.

Finally, you close your eyes and slip into unconsciousness.  It’s not a testament to your exhaustion, but rather just how long you’ve been left to sit here by yourself.  Hours, maybe.  Time is strange in hyperspace.

You dream of a faceless man ringing bells.

---

When you wake up, a small baby has been placed in your arms, and you’re being dragged into a strong, secure beskar hold on the floor.

“Din,” you suddenly lift your head as soon as you’re conscious and nearly bonk it into solid metal, apologies rising in your throat before you even remember where you are.  You did what needed to be done to keep your family alive and together and you’d do it a thousand times again if necessary, but that doesn’t mean you won’t apologize anyways.  After the deeds you’ve committed today, regret feels as natural on your lips as speaking your own name.  “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I know you’re mad at me but I—”

“Shh,” he whispers, running his gloves through your hair.  He’s still wearing his helmet, he hasn’t taken anything off yet.  “Don’t say anything.  Just… stay here, stay right here with me.”

“I tried to save you,” you croak, tears instantly flooding your eyes.  You did save him.  You saved him and the baby and yourself but you’re so physically and emotionally exhausted that all you can recall is your intent.  “I tried.  Wasn’t gonna leave you there by yourself.  I tried to be brave, like you—y-you wouldn’t have left without me.”

His arms tighten around you, cradling you in such a strong embrace that you burrow into him, you find a place for your head on the hard metal strapped to him and bury yourself there, wishing that you had shovels of dirt being piled on you to justify the death you still feel staining your soul.  Your heart is starting to pound now that you’re remembering, your body is starting to shake with tremors of shock now that you’re aware of your own skin again.

“I was so sc-scared, Din, I didn’t—didn���t know what was happening,” you lament through watery eyes, gasping it out in hopes that it’ll relieve the slightest bit of the gut wrenching guilt just mercilessly crushing you.  It caught you before you could protect yourself against it, that armor you built around yourself isn’t on when you first wake up.  “I-I didn’t want to kill them, but they were already on the ship and y-you said—you said they were coming after the kid s-so I had to, I had to—”

“Stop,” Din whispers, voice so quiet that you can barely hear him.

“I-I cleaned up the blood,” you turn your face against the cold beskar to let all the positives you listed for yourself before scrape across your throat.  They don’t sound comforting anymore, they just sound like excuses.  “It’s gone, it’s like it never happened, everything is okay now, I got the quarry, I protected the baby, I saved a bunch of people, you’re both safe—”

“Stop,” he chokes out.  The modulator cuts off before you can hear his next breath, but you feel it shudder under your body.  “St-Stop it, please.”

Your eyes clench shut so tightly you feel like the streaking stars outside are behind them, tears drop down against his pauldron and you press your face tighter to it like it’s a wound, like the pressure will somehow ease the bleeding.

“Listen to me,” he says very quietly, and you instantly brace yourself.  The walls you just let down shoot right back up, your body physically tightens in preparation for another pain, another trauma, another scar you’ll carry, and you stop shaking.  You stop breathing, even when his hand comes up to ease your face away from his armor.

“You,” he whispers, holding your chin so you’re staring right at him, and your eyes flick fearfully in between his behind the visor, “are a sweet girl.”  Din’s leather thumb brushes along your skin, dragging over the tears below your puffy eyes.  “Not,” his voice catches, “a Mandalorian.”

Your heart goes cold.  Again, everything turns numb.  It doesn’t matter that you already said this yourself out loud earlier today.  It doesn’t matter that you acknowledged this fact, verbally insisted it more than once to hammer home the truth and felt some sense of comfort in it.  For some reason, hearing the words from his mouth is a fucking knife to your chest.

“I taught you how to fight, how to shoot a blaster,” he murmurs, thumb catching every single tear that continues to fall as he speaks.  “I taught you everything I know, everything that’s been taught to me.  I taught you how to defend yourself, how to protect yourself when you’re in danger.  I gave you your blaster, I gave you my armor, I gave you everything I could give you to keep you safe.  And when I thought you were ready, I let you loose on Sanctuary II.  Do you know why I did that?”  The helmet tips forward the slightest bit at the question, probing deep into the most shattered part of your heart.  “After all those months of fighting, and shooting, and training, do you know why I told you to run?”

You blink silently at him, a shaky breath quaking through you, and your expression wants to crumple under the reprimand.  You’re so fragile right now, taking hit after hit after hit to the softest parts inside you, and you want to just give up.  Let the guilt and remorse take you, let it wash you away.  But then, instead…

There’s a flicker of something inside you.  Something strong, endlessly strong, and it makes you want to revolt against what he’s saying.  It replaces the hurt and fear and desperation for comfort with a strange sense of insurgence, like it did earlier when you were hiding behind a boulder, cowering and trembling and not wanting to die.  You’re filled with a quiet urge to defend yourself in the face of this, stand up for yourself and refuse to be beaten down any longer.

“Because you needed to know how to escape danger,” he answers himself when you don’t.  “You needed to know how to disappear, how to outsmart any pursuer and find safety, even the trained ones.  Especially the trained ones.  Anything else was meant to be your last resort.  Not your choice.  Not something you chose.”

“I couldn’t leave you,” you admit to him quietly, voice shaky and tears still coming even as you try to speak up for yourself.  The regret you carry has nothing to do with this, and you decide right now that you won’t feel bad for saving him.  Your hurt comes from the meaningless things, the ones without any need whatsoever, not the necessary ones, and you tried.  You repeated his words to yourself over and over again, told yourself to run, told yourself to get to Nevarro, and it wasn’t going to happen.  “I couldn’t do it.  It wasn’t a choice.”

“It was,” he tells you.  He says it softly, whispers it like it’s the gentlest thing in the world, but the power and inherent distance of the armor strapped to his body finds its way into the words.  “And it was the wrong one.”

“What was I supposed to do?”  You ask, just a hint of that rebellion swimming to the surface now, rising out of the waves of self doubt, the one that feels like a spine growing in your back, an energy coursing through your veins that makes your heart start to beat faster.  Din’s hand slowly drops from your cheek but you don’t care.  “Was I supposed to run away and just let you die?”

“Yes.”  It’s quick and blunt and completely emotionless.  Delivered like a punch to the vulnerable parts of yourself he taught you how to protect, and the utter silence following this single word is comparable to the physical pain you learned to defend against.  It jabs hard against everything good and sweet and tender inside of you, and you’re left speechless even as he continues impassively.  “That’s exactly what you were supposed to do.”

It takes a second, but then that unfamiliar feeling suddenly surges up, breaches with the power of an entire ocean.  Your voices may be nothing more than whispers in the dark, you may be clinging to each other, holding each other with the softest, gentlest love in your hearts, but the strength of your conviction on this would rip metal apart.

“No.”  The word holds the might of your entire being, and it stands alone and defiant in the face of everything you fear, everything that threatens you, him, and this child.  Never.  You’ll die before that happens.  “I love you, and there’s nothing in this galaxy that would ever make me do that.  Not fear, not danger, not the Empire, nothing.  Not even you.”

Din stares at you.  His visor reflects your hardened expression back to you, the force in your soul and the purpose in your eyes, and you don’t even realize the gravity of what you just said because like your love for him, gravity is a constant.  It’s a fundamental truth cemented into the rules that govern your actions and it stays true no matter where you are, no matter what terror you face, or how scared you become.  You have him, you have this little boy in your arms, and if that’s all you have, then you have everything.

After an eternity of this, of feeling his eyes pierce deep into you from behind the helmet while you refuse to wither under his stare, you watch him slowly turn and look down, landing on the sleepy child tucked between you both.  He holds there for a long time, before finally whispering, so quiet that the modulator barely picks it up, “It was the wrong choice.”

You stay quiet.  It happened.  What’s done is done, you can’t change the past.  He can scold and reprimand you about this as much as he wants, but you did the right thing and that decision is the only reason he’s even here to be able to do so.  This exhausted child was reunited with his father because of your choices, and this exhausted father was reunited with his child.  You won’t argue anymore, but it’s a certitude that lives deep in your heart now, builds a home there right alongside the both of them.  Din eventually looks up, his eyes find yours again behind the visor, and his hand rises once more to gently cup your jaw.

“I… thought I’d enjoy seeing you in my armor,” Din finally whispers.  It’s not what you expected, but his voice sounds… weak.  Broken.  “You wore mine once before, and it was…”  He brushes his thumb along your cheek, and then his head shakes slightly, pushing the thought away.  “It wasn’t real.  It didn’t fit.  It dwarfed you, it made you look out of place, it made everything soft and innocent about you stand out.  I liked it because it wasn’t real.”

“Was it… really that bad?”  You whisper back, partially to ease the tension just slightly but quickly breaking eye contact with him when you realize it doesn’t land correctly, it just sounds self conscious and sad.  You try to find that conviction again, that strength and assurance that propped you up so sturdily before, but…  Not a Mandalorian, he’d said.  Of course not.  Of course not.

“It wasn’t the armor.”  Din gently tugs up on your face so that you look at him again.  “It was you covered in blood.  It was you purposefully putting yourself in danger.  You killed multiple armed soldiers of the Empire, you dragged their bodies off the ship.  And then you flew into an imperial base, where you killed the officers, too.  You…”  He shakes his head slowly at you while speaking, and although you can’t see his face, you don’t need to in order to hear the horror in his voice.   “You… collected a quarry… in the middle of a massacre, sweet girl.”

Not a Mandalorian.

“You don’t chase down bounties,” he tells you.  “You don’t fly into war zones.  You don’t kill imperials, you don’t collect quarries, you don’t sacrifice yourself, or our son, to save me.  You said you tried to be brave… like me.”  His fingers tighten against your cheek, he dips his helmet to make sure you understand.  “I’ll never ask you to be brave.  I’ll ask you to survive.”

“I’m… sorry,” you finally whisper, and his arm drops from your cheek to join the other in wrapping around you and holding tight.  They hug you and squeeze, encasing you and the baby in a beskar shield and staying there for a long time.  Long enough for you to tuck your head back into its proper place under his helmet, long enough to start to feel okay with the silence again.  It brutalized you the last time you were surrounded by it, it made you feel alone and desolate and barren inside.  You greet it warily now, settling into it for an unknown amount of time until it’s forgiven once more.

After a while, Din quietly breaks it.

“How many?”  He murmurs to you.  You already know exactly what he’s asking, there's no more clarification necessary on his behalf.

You slowly close your eyes and think back to the smoldering craters, the blood soaked ramp, the fear in Oshua Ryler’s eyes as he begged you not to kill him.

“That didn’t deserve it?”  You ask, clenching your eyes tighter at the memory.  “Four.”

And maybe, maybe six or eight months ago, you would’ve begged for some guidance on how to reconcile that.  Hell, maybe a few hours ago, you could’ve used his arms around you exactly like this, his low voice repeating the same things he’s already told you before, over and over again, if only for some semblance of stability when everything feels turbulent and uncertain.  You’ll never be able to change it, though.  This belongs to you now.

This time, all Din says is, “I’m sorry, too.”

And that covers everything.

The silence envelops you both again, but… there’s something else.  Something that still sits deep in your worries, an image that isn’t a scar of what’s happened but a dread of what’s to come.  You need to tell him.  You don’t feel like saying it, you don’t want to speak it aloud for fear of bringing it into existence, but you need to tell him.

“Din?”  You breathe out, and he makes a soft noise in his throat while cuddling you on the floor.  “I saw…,” you whisper, every word sitting tight and reluctant in your throat.  “Right when we made the jump, I was looking through the window and I-I saw…”

“A star destroyer.”  He says it like… like it’s the worst thing in the world and also completely expected at the same time.  He says it like he already knew, yet can’t even imagine.  You lean every bit of your weight against him since you can’t hold him in return, squish him as best you can against the small corner and curl up even tighter in his arms for comfort.

He takes a deep breath, a shuddery sound you don’t think you’ve ever heard him make before.  It holds untold anxiety, unsaid conflict, uncertain action, an unknown path forward.

“I don’t know what to do,” Din eventually whispers to himself, to you, to the baby in your arms.  His voice is barely a breath through the modulator, his fingers digging into your skin with how many emotions he’s repressing.  “What do I do?”

He sounds so distressed that you automatically feel your soul find the floor—instantly, you become steady and calm and you locate all that rationality that kept you going today.  All your worries still twist deep down, all the guilt and the turmoil wrestles with your soft, easy nature until you can only find bits and pieces of it in the most vulnerable places inside you, but if he’s struggling this terribly, then the least you can do is offer some good, true, unwavering faith in times of uncertainty.  You’re in hyperspace, everything worked out, and it’s going to stay that way for right now.  If he doesn’t know how to talk about it yet, then you trust him enough to wait for him.

“It’ll be okay,” you tell him with a newfound confidence and purpose, carefully easing the baby into one arm so that the other can find its way to the other side of his helmet and pull him closer.  Din tucks his head and allows you to brush your lips against the metal, whisper the words soft and steady to him.  “We’ll figure it out together.”

---

@cptnbvcks thank you so much for the incredible art!

[gavisfanta]

can you do 8 with gavi plz!!

p.s love love ur storyss they are sl good:)))

STAY - GAVI

Doing these prompts, you can write a request by saying which number and a player i should write it with. I do every prompt once so please check before requesting!!

day 8 - arguing with one another

Another exhausting day for Gavi ended when he finally went home. Everything he thought about in that second he stepped through the door was to cuddle with you and fall asleep.

However that dream of his was shortly ruined after he saw you smiling at your phone. That wasn't the main problem, you looked cute sitting on the sofa, giggling at your phone, it was almost like you were talking to someone.

"Hey babe" He smiled widely and went closer to you, at the point where he was even standing in front of you.

You didn't give him much attention, just looked up at him for a second and mumbled a short "hello".

Gavi would have gone in for a hug but he was to annoyed now. With that he left you there with a scoff, just as he wanted to go up the stairs he turned around again.

"You know I was excited to see you, but that's ruined now." Gavi shortly let you know and you stood up immediately to walk closer to him. Your brows knit together as you looked at him.

"Why are you mad now? I didn't do anything?" You asked, raising your voice a little bit.

"Yeah, except for not even giving me a hug when I come home. We didn't use to be like this Y/n." Gavi said and turned around but you stopped him.

"Gavi dont fucking walk away now. What do you mean we didn't use to be like this? We still love eachother right?" You asked him, while saying the last sentence your voice shaked a little bit.

"I'm not so fully convinced about you." He muttered and your jaw dropped.

"You think I don't love you?" You asked and he shrugged his shoulders as a response. "Woah, okay, because I tried everything to make you feel loved, but one time when i dont hug you when you come home I don't love you anymore? Did you forget that yesterday I literally waited in the doorway for you to arrive." You convinced him, his gaze softened as he looked at the floor.

"Who were you talking to then?" He raised his eyebrows, the soft gaze gone again as he looked up at you.

"Why do you care." You answered in a harsher tone than you had anticipated.

"I care because we're in a relationship if you havent noticed yet, its because I care for you. We used to tell eachother everything and now you cant even tell me who youre talking to?" Gavi pointed at himself with his hand while moving his head slightly forward.

"I care for you too, but you're seriously getting mad at me for not jumping up and hugging you the first second I see you?" You asked and took a step closer to him. Your blood basically boiling by how stupid he could be sometimes. You didn't yell at him, you're not much of a yelling person.

"Ah," Gavi scoffed and turned around once again, walking up the stairs to the bedroom. You tried to call for him to stop but he didn't listen. You followed him into the bedroom and stood in front of him while he changed his shirt.

"You don't need to distract yourself with me, don't worry, go on and talk to those other men." Gavi made a motion with his hand and your jaw dropped once again. Suddenly it was silent, Gavi expected an answer from you, it didn't come, every second that passed he thought to himself. "Now, in a second, when is the answer coming?"

It never came, and as he turned around to look at you, he saw you, staring at him with glossy eyes. "You think I am cheating on you?" You asked with a shaky voice. You turned your head away as you felt a few tears rolling down your cheeks. Having your boyfriend who you loved more than everything and anything think that you could even think about cheating on him is bad, but his basically telling to your face that he had caught you cheating even tho its not true is worse.

Suddenly everything in your body switched off, you calmed down, your pulse went down again and then it was just that tight feeling in your throat and that awful ringing in your ears.

"You know Gavi, I love you but it's so freaking hard sometimes." And with that you walked past him and out the door. Uncontrollable tears now streaming down your face.

Meanwhile Gavi was still stood in the middle of his room, looking at the door you went through. Just a few seconds later he heard the door being closed and then followed by your car turning on and driving away.

"Fuck." Gavi muttered under his breath as he threw back his head. He knew he had messed up, he knew damn well that he went too far.

The bad thing for him was that he had absolutely no idea where you went, he tried to call you but as awaited, you didn't pick up.

He was still a bit confused as to why you just wouldnt tell him who you were talking to, but he knew he had to make it up to you, he just didn't know how. yet.

Meanwhile you were already on the other side of Barcelona, sitting on your friends couch. Luckiky Mikky and you were home alone because Frenkie wanted to meet up with his friends.

So there you sat crying, the person who understood you the most patting your back and telling you that it was gonna be okay.

No matter how strong your bond with Gavi was, Mikky had a view of life he could never have. That was because Mikky and you had one major thing in common. That was dating a famous footballer.

She knew all the cons that came with it and she knew how to react. During the time of being with Frenkie for more than 10 years she learnt some things.

She was the one to calm you down when the press started blaming you for Gavi's bad game, she was the one to calm you down after Gavis fans started to hate on you just because you were in a relationship with him.

And you hated to even think about it but Gavi would have never been able to calm you down those times. He lived with it, they taught you to play under pressure in La Masia, they taught you to handle the hate, but what they didn't teach you in La Masia was how people around you feel, people that didn't grow up in the academy and don't know how to handle that.

That's why you immediately stopped crying as soon as you stepped into Mikkys house. "Should I make you a tea? I know you loved the berry one." She smiled while pointing at you and walking into the kitchen. You followed her and sat down on the other side of the island in her kitchen.

So you two kept chatting with the low rumbling of the boiling water in the background. And as soon as the water was hot enough, she poured it into a cup and gave you a teabag. You put the teabag into the hot water and then kept on chatting with her.

Immediately you forgot everything that happened to you, every word that was said between you and Gavi in the last hour.

That's what you loved about being friends with her, she made you forget all your worries. Not that Gavi was a worry for you, but it was good to get a break from the futbolista.

"Here, put some honey in it, it's way better than sugar." Mikky grabbed a jar of honey out of her cabinet and walked over to you with a spoon in the other hand.

"Thank you" You smiled after she stirred it in and went to sit down in front of you. The rest of the one hour that you spent at her place contained of you two gossiping about your friend group and of course the players.

There were always some stuff Frenkie knew and Gavi didn't, you two knew everything that happened because of the constant gossip sessions. Luckily Frenkie and Gavi didn't know about their girlfriends telling their news to the others girlfriend because you two thought of it better as a secret.

And after it was time for you to go, you said goodbye and soon found yourself infront of your house with the keys in your hand.

Stepping into the house and closing the door behind you, you didnt hear anything other than the fridge buzzing quietly and the bugs making those noises from outside

That was until you entered the upper floor and heard tiktok playing in the bedroom, all the lights were turned off so you had to move around in the dark.

As soon as you stepped into the bedrooms doorframe Gavi's eyes shot up at you from his screen. He didnt think for a second before standing up and walking over to you.

"I'm sorry for not telling you a proper hello and also hiding who I was texting to." You immediately began and he nodded his head. You knew you were in the wrong, you knew that you had made the mistake.

"It's okay." Gavi took a step closer to you and pulled you into a heartfelt hug. Your arms tightened around his body, the best part after a fight was always making up, that hug couldn't be replaced by anything. When you hold him again after you held a grudge against him for a couple of hours. The relieving feeling you feel when you realize that "Everything is gonna be okay." Gavi's words made you smile as he leaned down and kissed your cheek.

Maybe everything does always turn out fine.

[leclercinvegas]

FEARLESS - instagram au

who: mick schumacher x vettle!reader

author's note: tbh he is the whole reason i'm starting this series. tbh idk what era mick is in for this imagine, but just go with it. also some of my fav other people are in this cause i thought it would have been cute. pretend the last pic is mick instead of pierre

summary: everyone can see the spark between the childhood best friends.

warnings: none

mickschumacher posted!

liked by ynvettle, kevinmagnussen, and 273,466 others

mickschumacher: being home means angie playtime

view all 859 comments...

user1: awww his dog is so cute!

user2: i want to steal her

ynvettle: please tell angie i miss her so much.

mickschumacher: you were here literally 15 minutes ago

ynvettle: your point? im coming over again.

ynvettle posted!

liked by sebastianvettle, mickschumacher, and 12,348 others

ynvettle: cause she doesn't get your humor like i do

view all 237 comments...

landonorris: you got a dog, any reason why?

user3: shes literally so gorgeous

yourbestfriend: you're my dorothea

mickschumacher: where are my photo credits for 3 of these pictures.

ynvettle: up my butt

mickschumacher: very mature yn

ynvettle: why thank you mr schumacher

jackhughes: come back to the lake house

ynvettle: ill be there in 2 weeks dont worry and im bringing a friend if thats okay

jackhughes: most definitely, the more the merrier

user4: jack and mick meetup? are my worlds colliding?

trevorzegras: you better visit soon

ynvettle: well if you're at the lake house ill see you then you silly goose

jamie.drysdale: i miss you y/n

ynvettle: i miss you more jamjam

user5: since when has y/n known all these hockey players?

mickschumacher posted!

liked by ynvettle, jackhughes, trevorzegras and 341,436 others

mickschumacher: made some new friends and new memories too

view all 1253 comments...

jackhughes: please come back next summer

mickschumacher: @ynvettle look i made a good impression! i would love to come back!

ynvettle: i figured you would make a good impression. i dont know why you were so worried

user7: oh my god. lake house. mick and y/n. with y/n's friends. things are happening. idk what things are but they're happening

ynvettle: i had the time of my life with you. im so glad you got to meet everyone :)

user8: please tell me thats y/n in the firework picture. please.

sebastianvettle: staying safe i hope

mercedesamgf1: hope you're having fun mick!

trevorzegras: come back mick mouse please.

yourbestfriend: hm interesting choice of pictures mick

ynvettle added to their story!

ynvettle: wild hockey boys at candian gp

ynvettle posted!

liked by mickschumacher, jackhughes, and 23,698 others

ynvettle: come feel this magic i've been feeling since i met you, can't help it if there's no one else <3

comments are restricted

mickschumacher: its been years in the making

jackhughes: oh my god finally.

sebastainvettle: i knew this was going to happen at some point. @mickschumacher treat her well.

trevorzegras: please tell me mick mouse asked you and you didnt ask him

ynvettle: thats a secret that ill never tell

jamie.drysdale: i miss you again

ynvettle: ill come back soon or you could always come here jamjam

yourbestfriend: your friends to lovers dream has come true

mickschumacher: what??

ynvettle: why did you have to say that.

[strawberryseeded]

I know that the general consensus is that Sukuna thinks Yuuji is boring asf & thats why he ignores him 24/7 (At least that's the impression i get, maybe im totally wrong fjhfhf), and like, Yeah. But i actually headcanon that the "ignoring" part started (and still mostly is) the other way around...? Like. Ok. Literally the second Sukuna understands that he's trapped inside Yuuji's body, that he can't get out, he starts YELLING at him inside his mind. Yuujis's response/reaction?: "Wow this dude sure is annoying" *goes on with his life*

At first Sukuna does try to at least pester Yuuji and the ppl around him by appearing on his skin and saying shit like "When i get out im gonna kill you all👍", but Yuuji straight up SLAPS him and never even answers to any of his threats nor talks to him directly, even talking about him to other people as if Sukuna isn't right there (the blatant disrespect hdgshshjs). The only instances the two of them talk are when Sukuna wants to talk to him; Yuuji just puts up with it. The sole time Yuuji adresses him first is when he asks Sukuna to help Junpei, and even tho Sukuna could have ignored him, he goes out of his way to tell Yuuji 2 go fuk himself (cuz Sukuna is... an asshole lolll).

Another example: At the end of the death paintings arc, Sukuna freaking. Just goes on and on mocking Yuuji and blaming him for what happened to Fushiguro's sister and the other curse's victims (srsly hes super annoying abt it) and the only thing Yuuji replies (and only because he believes it to be true so hes rly upset about it) is Shut up and Dont tell Fushiguro.

After that, during the Shibuya arc, right after killing Mahoraga, the last thing Sukuna does before losing control again is taunt Yuuji because he knows Yuuji will lose his fucking mind. But still, even in this instance and even though Sukuna is the one who caused all this destruction and suffering, Yuuji doesn't say anything back to him, not even to curse/insult him (i could go off on a whole tangent about why but that's not the point of this post).

In the culling game arc, when Angel says she wants to kill The Fallen, Sukuna brings Yuuji to his domain to prevent him from spilling the beans about who he is... and before he even opens his mouth Yuuji straight up says to him "even seeing your face makes me sick wdyw". Sukuna totally ignores this, obviously and goes Haha yeah anyways...

i cud go on lol.

Bottom line... Sure, Sukuna's called Yuuji boring & dull like 85746463636 million times but that's just him severely underestimating his strenght and talent at Jujutsu because Sukuna is a huge Jujutsu otaku BUT i think Sukuna was bored out of his mind inside Yuuji this whole time because Yuuji is the one who was always mercilessly ignoring him.

[ganondoodle]

I probably still wouldn’t have been a big fan of the game, but I don’t think I would have been NEARLY as upset about TotK if BotW didn’t seem like it was so obviously setting up plot points for a sequel. Like, you’re very clearly MEANT to wonder what malice is, and how Ganon became the Calamity instead of just the Demon King. Fi is awake again, where are they going either that? What’s the deal with the Triforce-shaped symbol on Zelda’s hand? There were a LOT of other things like that, and many of them had to do with overarching lore for the series.

I get it if they want to reboot the series, but “BotW 2” was the single worst game you could have done that with. It could have been an amazing conclusion to the original continuity.

EXACTLY, you, you get it

botw felt like the introduction to a vast world with secrets and hints to things that were planned to become a bigger thing- a big giant game as a big giant set up, and then ... like totk likes to do alot, it lacks a pay off, and that is something it even does within itself, cosntantly, set up and no pay off, or set up and the most boring and uninspired pay off you can really not even call that, from the bigger things like the whole dragon thing being hammered into your head as irreversible and then it IS reversible.. out of nowhere without you having to do fuck all, the whole thing with the ancient hero beign a big mystery with lots of interesting ideas attached and then its some weird ass dog creature that doesnt resemble any other race with, of course, sonau armor, bc there nothing that isnt sonau in that game, even finding the old treasure maps you can find that then lead to amiibo stuff from botw id call that

botw wasnt that great with rewards either but exploring the world and wondering about those, surely intentionally, placed mysterious and intriguing designs and places did alot for making it so interesting to think about, totk fumbles it all and even the new stuff doesnt even come close to that environmental storytelling botw was so great at, sonau ruins? ha they look entirely different than in botw actually, bc those were built by hylians you see, the actual sonau stuff is in prime condition considering the time thats passed and its all the same blank blocky blocks that serve no purpose but to be a place for you to find a thing or exchange some currency- the most you can think about it is ... that the sonau hollowed out the entire underground of hyrule, every inch of the map, ... which is WEIRD and doesnt exactly make them look that good but ... thats all there is

at least with the shiekah it made somewaht more sense and it felt much less .. invasive? and you didnt have anyone from that time to talk to, other than dead monks whos only purpose is to give you their last piece of their own spirit, but in totk ... raurus ghost and mineru too are both just there to talk to but DONT tell you shit but vague hints that were already clear, the sky islands used to be on the ground? oh you dont say, you see them there in the stupid memories! and dont get to know how they got up there and theres nothing that can clue you in to that, its just sonau magic yet again i guess

dont even get me started on the whole malice/miasma thing, it made so much SENSE that there was a source of it, someone that has keep kept in a horrible place just between life and death for thousands of years trying to break free by their hate and anger manifesting to such a degree its literally spilling out and building creppy eyeballs, mouths and ribcage like structures like they are trying to rebuild themsleves outside of their awful prison no one knows about is so damn compelling, but no, actually, the guy trapped there was the msot evilest evar, was sealed bc him evil and no other motive, and the previously mentioned stuff is pretty much utterly unceonnected, and his magic beign miasma with red instead of pink and no creepy body parts was the true version of it, that pink one was its own thing heehooo SHUT UP argh

it doesnt help that really, i dont feel like the sonau were set up either, they were a tiny part in botw, really only serving to make the world seem more ancient and more full of history, having ruins from a past civilization there you know nothing about and cant find out more is so good, its compelling and sad and makes the world feel more real, just shoving them into everything, being the center of attention all of thes udden and not even the architecure fitting feels so ... forced, i really truly believe the og sonau werent meant to be more than that, but in their fear of the game being too similarly looking like botw they took the sonau to replace the shiekah with them- imo the shiekah were the ones set up to be deeper explored in botw, with their whole misstreatment by the royal family in the past, monk miz kyoshia reacting the same way a yiga commander would was deliberate and brings up even more interesting ideas, the comments about where the mysterious energy the ancient shiekah used to power everything being concentrated in certain regions?? thats a big ass set up, the fact that the center of what is signaling everything to reactivate being below hyrule castle? the fact the whole arena thing was BUILT INTO THE CASTLE or it on top of it is so??? cool??? and sso damn intriguing, we are scratching the surface of their history- but then no, actually, the sonau are the cool new shit those other ones just uh ... disappear, also the sonau did everythign the shiekah did but even better wayy before them haha

its like they didnt want to tackle the more complicated stuff with the shiekah, their relationship to the royal family and how the yiga ... have a point and a good reason- so they replaced them with entirely new purely goodest good guys that did the same stuff before them with none of the history attached :))

this is why im so insistent on it not really being a sequel, thers no follow up on anything that was set up, NOTHING, and no, a couple having a kid now or whatever isnt a follow up on an interesting set up, how hard is it to understand that-

.... listen to me rambling, you probably know all that already nhjdfkbnkd

(i know i always bring up the shiekah but ... they were so central in botw, while also not taking up every single corner- unlike some other ones >_____>, with so much interesting stuff to connect and think about, i cared about them so much i felt kicked down the stairs by their treatment in totk)

[the-s1lly-corner]

Creepypastas comforting the reader

except some of them arent particularly good at it + as per usual jeff ben and toby are written as platonic everyone else can be seen as either or writing a silly little thing before i tackle in on requests, falling into the same vibe as the "hugging/kissing creepypasta characters" post from last week since i do enjoy rating these lads on thing ehehehe obligatory "these style of posts go over my personal character limit but since this is writing for the admin he bends the rules a bit" anyways uhuh totally dont give me ideas for these eheheh winks

SLENDERMAN:

not much of a talker in general, and i think that remains true in scenario where you're upset/crying. but he does make it clear that hes here for you... just... in a general sense. you know? refuses to leave you alone unless you directly ask him that you need space; more so watches out of concern rather than his usual curiosity. i think he would make you a warm drink and let you vent to him. more of a logical approach than an emotional one; better at giving solutions rather than giving comfort.. though i like to think that his tentacles will pull you close if you want to lean into him, will let you cry into his shoulder with no judgement. 6/10 low score simply because sometimes one needs comfort in the moment instead of solutions, you know?

SPLENDORMAN:

i think hes the opposite of slenderman. hes all emotions first, logic later. if he already knows you comfortable with it, i think he would come in and scoop you up in a hug.. hell he might even cry with you, or do the equivalent of it (admin is still on the fence of whether or not he has eyes or not! torn between them being actual eyes or markings) will make you your favorite snacks and drinks, all the while letting you cry and vent to him. gets mad on your behalf if someone had done you wrong, does not make your feelings feel small or invalidated. if he could he would confront the person who treated you unfairly.... and in fact he might, who would ever believe the person that they came face to face with a ten foot tall monster? though... this can lead to him being a little quick to make choices that might have big impacts... 7/10 love this man need to write more for him and develop my hcs

EYELESS JACK:

you know now that i think about it, given how much i write for EJ, i swear ive done a similar prompt at some point. regardless of it i did and if my hcs are the same, im going to go ahead and drop my hcs. i think hes very similar to slenderman in terms that hes more of a solutions > emotion person.. though i do think hes more likely to join you in any shit talking if someone did you dirty... do i think he would target that person next when hes going to go 'hunting'? no... unless the person did something truly awful and unforgivable, then he would definitely consider it.. probably wont go through with a harvest, though.. but thats it whole other thing. more of a talker than slenderman, so at least he has that going for him. lets you sleep in his bed if youre venting to him in his cabin 7/10 one point higher than slenderman simply because he talks more n stuff

LAUGHING JACK:

im gonna be so real i think he can go either way if hes going to be good at comforting you. on one hand hes too silly and might not take it too seriously; or he might try to make you laugh.. which COULD work but other times makes it look like he doesnt care about your feelings. on the other hand i think he can give some solid adivce, but thats only based on the fact that i love it when unhinged hyper characters suddenly drop the most valuable info. shrugs. i mean if you need a distraction, i think lj is your man to go to ! he was literally made to entertain so i dont think its going to be too hard for him to take your mind elsewhere. i think he would offer to cook you something but i also think hed probably be banned from the kitchen because he cant cook for shit. has probably set water on fire somehow level shit. so instead you guys just sit together talking... mostly its him leading the conversation, though. doesnt leave you be until you at least give him a smile... 6.5/10 only because i dont know how to rate him here

MASKY/TIM:

oh not at all emotional. well no thats a lie but hes not very emotive. thats the more correct word. look if we're talking about masky, hes probably going to be really bad at comforting you unless your means to be comforted involves being watched... though i do think he would fall into the act of service hole.. does all the chores and such for you so you dont have to worry yourself about cleaning a pan thats been in the sink for two days now. tries his hand at cooking, but i dont think masky is the best cook.. TIM on the other hand.. but we'll get into that in a minute. probably ends in you guys ordering something but hey its the thought that counts. if someone made you upset you notice over the course of the next few weeks that person starts outright avoiding you and overall seems anxious. weird. probably unrelated! 7/10 only because im badly overworked irl and the idea of someone taking charge sounds like a dream

tim i think would be similar, but hes more expressive for you... will cook for you but if your favorite food happens to be really specific or something else, hes probably going to run out and get it. torn on whether or not he would tell you before he goes, or if he sticks to keeping it a surprise.. i think he would tell you just so it doesnt feel like hes abandoning you when youre down..! not much to be said here other than him being supportive 8/10 i would KILL for some white cheddar popcorn rn

HOODIE/BRIAN:

i think he would put you to bed. actually i think both of them would but to keep things clear im still going to divide this like masky/tims. i think hoodie is going to keep you in bed, even if youre not particularly tired. dont bother trying to fight him on it, hes only allowing you to get up for the bathroom. let him take care of things! very similar to masky, picks up on a lot of the chores. i think he can cook, though, definitely better than masky but i dont think hes like. top tier. likes making you little snacks, or food thats generally deemed as comforting (mac and cheese, cornbread, ect). doesnt talk (sign) much but will occasionally sign to you asking how you're feeling 7.5/10 love this man, so mad kid me used to sleep on hoodie

very similar, but an even better cook than hoodie so be prepared to eat good. communicates with you more than hoodie and makes small talk while cooking. i think he would keep the chat lighthearted and on a different topic rather than tackling your feelings, unless you express that you want to vent then hes all ears! not because he doesnt care more so because he doesnt want to seem prying or nosey and wants to give you the choice yourself. sometimes makes jokes about stuff in order to try to get you to smile. feels victorious when he succeeds 8/10 mad i slept on him too

TICCI TOBY:

i think he might actually be TOO strong and in your face when asking you what happened. only one who outwardly offers to krill someone if someone were to make you upset. but thats just because i think toby can occasionally get protective of you. i mean youre one of his best friends (only friends) and here you are upset! if you dont want him to do anything hes going to try to contain himself. he strikes me at the type to retreat to the roof and look up at the stars... i think he would offer to do that with you; but if youre too scared to climb then he can lay out a blanket for you so you guys can go sit on the grass! surprisingly a very good listener, though very emotionally driven and reacts a lot when you tell him the details of your day.. but its nice, i think, reassures you that hes is in fact listening.. 7/10 gives off brother vibes

JEFF THE KILLER:

ohhoho so this is an interesting one, because i like the idea of jeff still acting like an older brother every now and then even after everything. but he also has that attitude of "i dont care about anyone around me and im better than everyone".. more of an actions than words guy. he wont really say it.. you know? one of those "if he actually didnt care then he would bother giving you the time of day, much less break into your house at night with his arms full of your favorite snacks and drinks". good luck trying to vent to him though, i think its rare that he lets anyone vent to him since he also holds the "ew yucky feelings" thing ben has.. though once in a blue moon i think he would let you and give some decent advice... though every now and then that advice involves punching someone 6/10 is fair i think...

BEN DROWNED:

kind of reminds me of how younger siblings will give their older siblings know they like. kind of like the "my brother saw me crying and asked me what my favorite color is... he gave me things in that color" post/image going around that i cannot for the life of me find but i know it exists because it made me cry. i think its like that. except since hes in your phone he already knows what your interests are.. probably pulls up what your comforts and likes are in an attempt to cheer you up. i dont think he would bluntly speak with you about your feelings, but thats just because he thinks heart to hearts are yucky and cringe/lh. uses videos, art, stuff like that. ehehe silly phone ghost 7/10 because as simple as it is, if someone tossed my cc at me i would feel at least a little better for a moment and its the action itself you know?

PUPPETEER:

i thin hes similar to jeff in regard that he tries to play things off but deep down he does care, and that tends to show more through his actions... though i personally think if you were to actually cry then he might lose it a bit, because who DARE? i gotta admit, im still trying to figure out how i want to write pup and what hcs to give him, but i think.. this is an okay take.. might 'confront' anyone who made you upset, with or without your approval which might make some issues between the two of you.. more ready to let you vent to him though, might slip out some mean insults and words about whatever's got you upset regardless of its a person, chance, or object 7/10

[broadwayfangirl222]

Saw you post about the similarities between Bill & Ford and Gideon & Mabel, and wanted to know what are your thoughts on Giffany & Soos also bearing similarities to these pairs?

Gideon & Mabel/Giffany & Soos:

- GD /GF held unhealthy/possesive romantic feelings for Mabel/Soos, wanting them to be together forever and seeing Mabel and Soos as belonging to them

- GD and GF didn't take the break up well, and their actions after it was to attack the people Mabel and Soos cared about (Dipper/Melody & the twins)

- both fights end with Mabel and Soos stopping GD and GF, ending things between the two (Mabel destroys the magic rock/Soos destroys the disk)

Bill & Ford/Giffany & Soos:

- relationships between a human and non-human (Bill is a being from a 2nd dimmension/Giffany is a sentiant game made on earth)

- after being found by Ford and Soos, Bill and GF help them with their problems (F - where the weirdness comes from & other stuff/ S - getting a date for his cousin's engagement party)

- at some point Ford/Soos discover their true motives/personalities which strains their relationship

- Bill/Giffany use manipulative words to keep Ford/Soos in the relationship (GF - tells Soos that other girls wouldn't like him & Melody would leave him/ B - tells Ford he likes being special and only he can truly appreciate him (tbh dont remember the words exactly)

- in the fights, Bill/GF offer Ford/Soos a last chance to join them, which both Ford and Soos reject

- Bill and GF have limited ways they can go around Gravity Falls

- Bill's glitchy "death" reminds me of Giffany

So thoughts?

Ohhhh this is an extremely interesting comparison! I adore the comparisons you already made and I really think you're onto something with this and completely agree with everything. To expand on this line of thought:

There were warnings before they all met Gideon, Bill, Giffany

Soos, Ford and Mabel were very lonely and wanted to make connections with others

All three of them have this cutesy and harmless look to them

1. There were active warnings about Giffany, Bill and Gideon and the three of them technically went against those warnings

A bunch of people returning it & there's a note saying the game should be destroyed

Ford summoned Bill despite all the cryptic warnings in the cave

Dipper & Mabel went to the tent of telepathy despite what Stan said about Gideon & that they shouldn't go

Not to say any of them were at fault for getting into these toxic relationships but there's still warnings from people who've dealt with Bill, Giffany, Gideon in the past.

2. they were all lonely and wanted a connection with others

Mabel - before she met her besties Candy & Grenda, she excited to finally have someone who actually enjoys doing girly stuff with her. Before Candy & Grenda, no one she currently spent time with got that side of her. Even Wendy, the other girl™ of the group isn't exactly a girly girl who'd be super into things like makeovers or dressing up like she is

Soos - Sure it was technically for his cousin's wedding & because of his Abuelita asked him to, but he likely wanted a relationship before all that and this whole wedding thing probably pushed an already sensitive issue for him. Like he clearly struggled a lot talking to women and he has a lot of anxiety with this and feeling like he'll always be alone

Ford - He's actually the one I can say the most on when it comes to loneliness. He says why he fell for all of Bill's lies was because of both flattery and being promised answers to the mysteries of the universe. And yeah that's very true, but the Book of Bill, Journal 3 and part of the show itself kinda shows it was also because he was super lonely too. Ford himself talks about how he's never felt lonelier than he had in Gravity Falls, he literally thinks Bill was initially a hallucination caused from his loneliness/isolation and Bill flat out says he picked Ford partly because of how isolated & lonely he was

3. All three of them have this cutesy, harmless look to them

Gideon literally uses his cuteness to manipulate the town

Giffany, both in and out of universe by the animators, is designed to be an adorable anime girl. even Alex Hirsch was shocked at how people reacted to Giffany and how they still seemed to be sympathetic to her despite murdering all these people and telling Soos no one but her could actually love him

Bill's a triangle in a top hat and bowtie. If you didn't know the horrible stuff he's capable of and you saw him, would you think he's a threat? He's just a silly little dorito with a top hat!

[murdrdocs]

idk if you have already written this since im a new follower but i was wondering if you can write where bimbo!reader puts on the ghostface mask with like sexy lingerie and ethan EATS IT UP.

i love your writing sm! and i understand if you dont wanna write this :) i literally cant get enough of your stories lol

a) thank you for following me and appreciating my work !! b) i would love to write this for you *rubs hands together* no smut i'm lazy

When Ethan walks into his room to see you holding a white mask in your hands, his heart rate immediately increases. He pauses in the doorway, his hand still wrapped around the knob, one foot inside of the room and the other out.

He's about to speak, maybe play it off and pretend the mask doesn't hold any significance to him, or tell you that it's not what it looks like. You speak before him.

Your head lifts, your lips in a pout, when you say, "You had one this whole time? And you didn't tell me?"

Ethan, completely confused, steps into the bedroom and lets the door swing closed behind him. He looks over you, noticing how you're only wearing his hoodie and a pair of boots. You both were supposed to be getting ready for the frat party that Chad was insisting Ethan go to tonight, something about getting the true freshmen in college experience. Of course, Ethan couldn't go without his girlfriend, which made Chad even happier as he not so subtly insinuated that Ethan should get laid tonight.

But you didn't look party ready, save for from your neck up.

He licks his lips and approaches you. "What're you talking about?"

You hold the Ghostface mask up directly beside you, your free hand singling out a pointer finger to point at the mask. "The mask, Ethan!" you say like it's completely obvious. Ethan's starting to think that it is obvious, and he's just not picking up on it. His throat gets a little dry, and his eyes get shifty.

He's thinking of something to say but again, you beat him to it. "You knew I was looking for one for Halloween. For tonight!"

Oh yeah. That.

Ethan did know that, but he was so enamored by your nails clacking along your keyboard and the way your new perfume smelled and the way your glossed lips parted as your perfect teeth smacked on your minty gum. You were overwhelming his senses, so he could barely focus on your smooth voice detailing your Halloween costume options.

"Shit, 'm sorry. I didn't know about that." Lie. He reaches out to splay his hands over your waist to cover up how horrible he is at lying. "Maybe next year?"

You lean into his touch, but your head tilts as if you're not understanding him. "I can wear it this year, too."

Ethan watches as your hands reach down to the hoodie, pulling it over your head carefully as to not drop the mask. His brain short circuits as he sees what you're wearing.

It's barely anything. Mostly because you're not wearing actual clothes, just a set of lingerie that Ethan hasn't seen before, most likely a new purchase.

"See this is what I was gonna wear, E," you say it through a pout but the words barely meet Ethan's ears. He's too busy staring at your soft skin, the way your tits sit in the bra, the way your thighs look, the way the panties hug your hips.

You're still talking, but Ethan's hands are already back on your waist and trailing down to your hips.

"Well I wasn't going to wear just this. I didn't wanna look like a total slut. So I have a little skirt I was gonna wear. You know the tiny one that almost shows my ass? Ethan?"

He hums, letting you repeat the last of your sentence. "Mhm," he says when you finish, the noise acting enough as affirmation for you to continue.

"Would that look cute with this? What'd you think?" He doesn't answer. "Ethan."

"Baby, I'm sorry. But I'm not listening to anything you're saying right now."

The admission makes you heat up, not from anger but from the opposite. Knowing that Ethan is always listening to you, and the only reason why he's not right now is because you're distracting him with your figure, makes you feel a little giddy inside.

"Do you like it?" Your voice is soft, your eyes the same. He nods, licking his lips and pulling you close enough that you can feel the bulge forming in his pants.

"Yeah?" you ask.

"Yeah."

"Sure it's not too much?"

Ethan's leaning down now, his hands circling around your back, obviously itching to grip your ass. You push yourself against him, free hand resting on his forearm, giving it a little push as a go-ahead.

"Not too much at all." His hand finally inches down and he takes one of your almost-bare asscheeks in his palm, squeezing it before smacking it.

You giggle, your head knocking against his chest. Ethan lifts one hand to encourage your head to leave his chest only so he can kiss you once, twice, thrice, then one more that's longer, a little more heated, but he wills himself away.

"Can you put the mask on for me?"

Your eyes are staring up at him, so big and wide, you're clearly eager to please, hence why you don't question it and instead nod, leaning up to kiss him one more time before you're pulling the mask over your head, prepared for whatever Ethan has planned.

[agirlwithglam]

how to develop self love and confidence

— a step by step guide by yours truly ♥

disclaimer!! for some people it can take a lot longer to love themselves than others, so don't be discouraged if it takes a bit longer. just remember that no matter what you think, you ARE WORTHY OF LOVE.

step 1: identifying the root cause

first you need to find WHY you dont love yourself. it usually comes down to these main reasons:

society

your looks

comparison

your abilities

childhood trauma

your current situations

it can be just one or more than one, and sometimes it may not be as simple as "my looks", sometimes you may have to dig deeper.

for me, it was because i thought i was "ugly"

step 2: once you know the WHY, research about the topic and try and solve it.

here ive broken down the 6 reasons to help you a bit: (but remember that this is just a small break down, if you want you can research more about the topic & try to battle it)

society: society has tricked us into believing that loving yourself is considered 'vain' or 'narcissistic'. let me tell you right now that THAT IS NOT TRUE. loving yourself is a basic necessity that everyone should have!!

your looks: this is something i struggled with for a loong time. remember that beauty is subjective!! bob could think that travis looks 'average' but Leo could think that travis looks absolutely gorgeous!! ☆ so how did i overcome this? i actually 'glowed up'. bc the main thing i didnt like was face- my teeth to be specific. so once i got braces, my teeth aligned and i started looking so much better. ☆ other struggles: ↴ for you if it may be acne, then you could start trying to take care of your skin better. or if its body image then if you reeeeally dont like it then literally just start working out. if you have the option to yet you still dont then dont complain. but remember that ALL BODIES ARE PERFECT. ★ another thing that helped me a lot was affirmations! i listened to a bunch of affirmations -> i used this video by thewizardliz and it did wonders! (you can also search up on yt self-love/ beauty affirmations)

comparison: for most people comparison comes from social media right? the simple solution to this would be unfollow accounts that dont serve you, or delete/ set a time limit on the social media platform "but what if i compare myself to people i meet in real life?" well we can't exactly unfollow or delete these people but what we can do is turn that jealousy (yes, jealousy) into inspiration! be inspired by the people with greater lives and use that to pull yourself forward! ☆ a quote that i read once (that may or may not help you) : "do not compare your chapter 1 to someone else's chapter 50." you never know what the other person has gone through or is going through that got them to this point!

your abilities: okay theres not much i can say here except that you can learn almost everything online nowadays. stop complaining and get off your lazy butt to prove to yourself just how much potential you have! (but don't beat yourself up for being a lazy butt, im one as well) here is a link to a TON of stuff you can learn online!

childhood trauma: this is a bit of a more delicate subject which i do not know a lot on, my best suggestion would be to just go to therapy (or use an online therapy app- betterhelp). - watching thewizardliz may help as well as she might know more about the topic.

your current situation: whether its trouble with friends, at school, at work, or with family i promise you that these things do not last forever. humans were not put on earth to be unhappy and miserable! (whats the point in that?) my advice is to learn more about the topic (for ex i was struggling with being left out w friends for a while and it did hurt a bit) and see what you can do to fix it or at least make the best out of it. + another reminder that you can use the law of assumption- in basic words the law states that whatever you desire, you have. all you need to do is accept that. heres a quote i read: "if you dont like where you are,, then move. you aint a tree." this is literally YOUR life. RESPECT yourself and dont let people treat you bad because that is disrespecting yourself!

step 3: focus on yourself!!

my favourite step!!

this is your sign to stop focussing on others' lives and start focussing on your own.

when you start to focus on yourself, up level yourself and try to become your best version of yourself, you actually end up falling in love with that version of yourself, and your current version!

ask yourself: is there even something to love?

ask yourself: would you want to date or be friends with someone like you? think actually deep about this; if your answer is no, then that obviously means that there is some work to do.

if you're constantly negative and complaining and rude all the time, trust me, literally no ones gonna want to hang out with you. and then you'll adopt that 'victim mindset' of "nobody likes me and i suck". instead of doing that, why dont you try to just suck a bit less? there isn't any pressure on you to become amazing the next day, but that doesn't mean you shouldn't try.

small things/habits to start:

gratitude

hydration

exercising

journalling

meditation

eating healthy

developing a skill

get enough sleep

take cold showers

taking care of your skin

invest in your appearance

focussing on school/ your grades

go outside! go for walks, be in nature!

changing what you consume (resources below)

some resources that helped me SO MUCH:

♡ thewizardliz

♡ tam kaur

♡ persephone's mind

and meditation! its so extremely underated but SO VALUABLE.

xoxo, vanilla

[goodlucksnez]

cw: some angst, sneezing, glitching,rain sfx, insults, playful nicknames

so i have going through it(depression wise) and decided well I am going to make a angst snez wav

Also I don't care I headcannon v/ox gets sneezy with rain, I mean electronic and rain don't match well so to bad this is my headcannon--also you dont bless people in hell al being polite says curse you and i love that hc --also also a/l says it literately acid rains in hell so that is cannon, shut up!

transcrip belong (do suggest you read along becuase there are moment that help explain the tone/pauses-voice acting angst is hard)

Vox: *running in the acid rain to get under a store cover* Shit, shit, shit…. This shit wasn't fucking supposed to happen, yet fucking broadcast. I guess it could get worse

Al: *appearing from his shadow realm holding some bags that are sizzling away from the rain* It appears that we will have a comparison.

Vox:  Ohh fuck, what are you doing here?

Al: Well, I was in the neighborhood getting a few supplies. And appears to have misjudged the weather and that's what I get for listening to an inferior broadcast.

Vox: *Laughs* I don't fucking control that section. That's hell 666 not dictated by my media corporation. So, you can take that comment and shove it right up your red pompous….

Al: *tsking* Don't get your antenna in a twist.

Vox: I don't want to be here any longer than necessary. How long do you think the fucking rain will last.

Al: *reaches his hand out and slips some of the acid rain, laughing as it burns his throat* at this rate Yep, and that's the taste of a long rain. We're going to be. Here for quite the long haul.

Vox*burning his hand copying al*

Al: *Laughing* I can't believe you copied me.

Vox:  I did not copy you.

Al: Yes, you did not an exact copy, but an imitation. Not quite as good as the original

Vox: fuck.

Al: Well, aren't you full and then extensive vocabulary.

Vox: Don't want to waste my breath *hitching and sneezing with a glitch* on things that don’t need it

Al: Curse you

Vox: *laughing* It's been a while since you've made me laugh.

Al: Let me recall. Wasn't that about eight years ago with this?

Vox: Yeah. We used to run the world.

Al: *sitting down and turning towards vox* Well, we might as well, I doubt we will be moving anytime soon. We haven't, really. Talked about it. *hinting about vox asking al to e part of his team*

Vox: While every time we meet it's normally not in good terms.

Al: True. We do have a knack for getting under each other skin

Vox: *sneezing and glitching*You could say that again

Al: I'm assuming you've heard of the Christmas truce during the First World War?

Vox: Even though you're older than me, I know some things. Yes, I'm aware. So is that your fucking compromise during this acidic storm.

Al: *mockingly* Well done. vox. Yes, a sabbatical.

Vox: So who the fuck wants to start?

Al: How about the one who isn't going to sneeze in the next 5

Vox: *interups al sneezing and glitching* Go ahead.

Al: *looking up as if he is remembering* Let's say my work became mundane. I was so ordinary gain a territory here. Steal soul there, takedown a tyrant an overlord, gain some territory. It was a routine. It was getting so boring. What was the point? Everyone feared me, but. *looks forlorn* What was I even looking for? So I left. Is best to leave them wanting more, right, old friend?

Vox: *surprised not seeing this side of al* Did you find it? Thing you were looking for?

Al: *laughing putting on his smiling face again, hiding his true feeling* Not yet. I have an idea, but I'm not so sure it can be achieved.

Vox: *rolling his eyes* Hopefully it won't interfere with my plan.

Al: Oh, and pray tell, what is your plan?

Vox: *glaring at him* To destroy you.

Al:I thought we have a truce.

Vox: Fair. Fair. I mean, it's not exactly a sound business practice tell my enemy the *hitching and sneezes and glitches* the plan

Al: Curse you. You all right? I would hate for my competition to die so early.

Vox: Yeah,right as rain *shudders*

Al:*remember a moment from their past* I forgot this happens to you when it rains, doesn't it?

Vox: Well, electronic and water don't exactly mix well together.

Al: Acid and rain don't work well either. But it is nice to talk like this.*his face softens and he takes on a more gentle look* Like we used to. If one were akin this to a feeling. One might think it would be longing For the old times.

Vox: Ohh, you're gonna get sentimental on me, old man.

Al: *hiding behind a mask again* You wish.

Vox: *sneezes* Stupid rain.

Al: It will pass. All things do.

Vox: Even overlords?

Al: *perks up a bit* oh? Trying gleam information now are we?

vox: Well, I have a reporter.

Al: Well, for your report, yes. Even overlords can die, I should know. I've killed enough.

Vox: *in a soft voice as if he is afraid of the answer* Where? Do they go?

Al: Not sure. Maybe that's something we can discover together.

Vox: *Sneezes*

Al: Curse you

Vox: Curse you to al. But seriously, you can go anywhere you please. And yet…. You stay. Why? Why do you? Why do you care? *is looking at al face trying to hint at the fact he left him and wanting to know why*

Al: I guess I deserve that…*takes a deep breath but cannot look vox in the face* it wasn't your fault. You know, there's nothing you could have said or done to change my mind. You weren't enough to stick around for. There is nothing I could have done….*takes a deep breath and you can see the smile fade and his claws dig not his side*Because I was nothing…..I still have.

Vox: *surprises to see this side of al, he has never seen* You don't really mean that?

 Al: *laughs and masks his pain* Just performance old pal. The rain should be stopping soon. Let's chat again. It was….*pauses* Nice to see a friend.

Vox: *in his head* He's just like before. It Feel like I never really got to meet the real Al. But today I saw a peek behind the curtains. And…. It was Lonesome.

vox: Yeah, it was nice seeing you around you outdated it static filled nonsense.

al: It's almost adorable how hard you try to be relevant in a world that doesn't care.

vox: Likewise, Bambi.

Al: To seeing the end.

Vox *sneezes and glitches out* To seeing the end