#royal ad-visor

[tbnrpotato]

Our Own Choices

Chapter 8

I hate Rex so much. He hasn't let me on any missions for a few weeks now, and I'm somehow getting bored of writing stories and playing call of duty. Actually no, its just writing stories. Haven't been playing much of call of duty since that happened. Reminds me of him too much. 

I also practice throwing knives sometimes. I've made a compartment in my armor to house about 20 or so knives, I always hit my mark when I throw them. At least if I'm in close or mid range. 

Besides, I usually don't follow Rex's orders anyways, so I've snuck on about 19 missions without his permission.

Fives' death has definitely affected me in worse ways than it should have. I can barely sleep at night, having nightmares of both Fives and Echo's deaths. It's not like Rex notices the dark circles under my eyes anyways, he's been on Anaxes for a while now with the 501st. I wanna go there so badly, just to get some action for once, waiting in the hangar as reinforcements are being sent to Anaxes for a ship that I can get on.

I've been calculating my chances of being spotted getting on a cargo transport that's headed for Anaxes that aren't being checked, and my odds are pretty good. 

So when I check that none of the troopers are looking, I run aboard the cargo transport just as the ship door closes and I get ready for a long trip to Anaxes.

In the cargo ship, I check my gear, making sure that some of the modifications that I made to it in my free time were working. My helmet's visor has a setting which allows me to see the heat signatures of people in my line of sight, which is also orange in color and makes my visor orange when using, which I think is really cool. I added an extra grappling hook that's attached to the armor on my wrist as well, because the only way I could sneak onto missions while I was grounded is if I clipped myself to the outside of the republic gunships and went along for the ride. 

When I arrive on Anaxes, the door opens and I see some troopers unloading the cargo. It's easy to blend into the darkness of the ship with my armor painted black and all, and when the troopers turn away from a moment I slip out of the ship and see Rex, Jesse, Cody and Kix talking to group of some really tall ass clones. Well at least 75% of them are tall. One of them has dog shit for hair and is almost as short as I am.

I see them getting onto a republic gunship and I run to it, using my grappling hook to attach myself to the side of the gunship where the door is closed, and I enjoy the ride as the ship takes off. 

We fly across the reddish terrain that kinda looks like trees but also not really, I can feel the wind against my body, not in my hair cause my helmet's on. I don't even know why I'm coming along for this one, it's literally just instinctive now that when I see a republic gunship with Rex inside I just clip myself to the outside and ride along. Sometimes Rex finds out and happily lets me come along. Yea. Happily. Totally.

It's quite nice out here. Fresh air's so much better than in my room on Coruscant, it doesn't reek of blood that I've had to clean off from my knife a lot, when I accidentally cut myself with it. It's kind of satisfying, sometimes, to just get a small slit on my arm, and watch the blood slowly flow out.

I know, something's definitely wrong with me.

Fives would have really liked this view. Bet he would invite me to get a drink with him after this mission and then play a few rounds of Call of Duty Battle Royale. 

And then as I'm lost in my thoughts, quietly pacing back and forth on the side of the ship, the door opens, and I'm hanging in front of the open door, with Rex folding his arms and staring at me.

"Hi," I wave awkwardly at everyone inside the gunship. 

"I don't think you wanna be out there if we get shot down. " Rex doesn't sound happy. I roll my eyes from under my helmet and curse under my breath, before swinging into the gunship and retracting my grappling hook. The door closes behind me and the inside of the gunship turns dark with a dim red glow.

"So anyways, who's the old man?" I ask, pointing at the dude I landed next to, receiving a death glare from him. I can see Jesse, Kix and even Rex trying to hold in their laughter, because they know I have a point. The dude's hair is literally grey, and there are FUCKING WRINKLES on his face. Or maybe he's just so thin that his skull decided to become really clear.

"That's...Crosshair," the dude with the dog shit for hair says. "Yea, and I'm betting you're Shithair." I receive an elbow in the side by Rex, and I take that as a warning to stop speaking facts. 

Rex pulls me into a corner in the gunship and half-whispers half-demands, "What are you doing here?! I gave you a specific order not to come!" The dude with a receding hairline that's next to me looks at me and then back at his datapad.

"Oh cmon Rex, when have I ever followed orders?" I try to shrug it off. "I'm here now, so it's not like you can throw me off."

"I would very much like to," Rex mumbles under his breath and I hear it, but I don't really care. I move away from Rex and head over to Kix. "Care to give me some introductions on the new guys?"

"That one's Hunter," Kix points at Shithair. "That one's Tech," he points at the dude with the receding hairline. "And that one's Wrecker." He points towards the buff guy. "You ever heard of Clone Force 99, genetically altered clones? Well, here they are."

I think I remember seeing Clone Force 99 back on Kamino, I've tried to sit with them in the cafeteria a few times but I wasn't very successful. 

I stand next to Jesse now, he's receiving a really weird look from Crosshair. Ayo, is the old guy simping? I mean, that could be incest-

Anyways.

"What are you looking at?" Jesse asks.

"We don't usually work with rEgS," Crosshair says, flicking a toothpick at Jesse, which bounces off his armor. Crosshair's voice sounds so (Imperial) weird, not like the normal clones. Then again, I can't really blame him. Is that what clones sound like when they grow old? Or was his voice always like that?

"Regs?!" Jesse takes a step towards Crosshair, but is stopped by Hunter (Shithair). "He's talking about regular clones," Hunter explains. "But don't take it personal."

"Well, I guess we know what's his genetic alteration," I say to Kix, doing a head tilt towards Crosshair. "He's a master at being an asshole."

Kix snickers slightly, nodding. "Yea, that's true."

"We're all on the same team, so cut the attitude and listen up," Cody says, and we all turn to him. Toothpick boi crosses his arms as he turns to Cody. I can almost imagine what's going through his mind right now.

Attitude? I'll show you attitude. *Crosses arms like an irritated child*

"Here's the mission. Our target is this Cyber Center," Cody says, showing a hologram of our target. "It's the brains of this entire Separatist campaign here on Anaxes."

"I can demolish that with one hand! Yeah!" Wrecker says, and I cringe, putting a hand to my helmet and shaking my head. Force, help me.

"This isn't a demo job, Wrecker," Cody says, and I silently thank him. "It's strictly a retrieval operation."

Retrieval means I get to slice up less droids but still some, as long as Clone Force 99 aka the Bad Batch doesn't steal all the kills. 

"Incoming fire," I hear the pilot of the gunship say, and the gunship shakes a bit, we struggle to keep our balance. And then I hear some hits landing on the gunship, and we're starting to decend, and fast.

"We're going down!" Wrecker laughs like an absolute psychopath, and I'm starting to wonder if he's okay.

I feel the side of the gunship crash against a wall, and I instinctively hold onto Rex for balance, but immediately let go when I realize what I'm doing.

It's not a nice landing. We crash on the side of the gunship and some of us are thrown off balance and get up, coughing at the smoke from the flames of the engine. We quickly get out of the gunship and onto the ground, which looks a bit like blue-stained glass.

"We always get shot down when we travel with regs," Wrecker complains, and I shoot a sideways glance at him. "Stop complaining," I roll my eyes. I hate it when they say we're regs, because not all of us are. At least, not me. But I don't wanna reveal it to them yet, or ever, because so far my impression of them is that Crosshair's an asshole and Wrecker's a psychopath.

I hear Kix calling out for someone to help Cody who's trapped under the gunship debris. I wonder what happened to the pilot though. Probably dead.

"I'll get him," Rex runs forward, but is stopped by Hunter.

"Woah woah woah, easy captain. Wrecker, get him out," he says as he moves Rex to the side and we all watch.

"Get back," Wrecker warns, stepping forward.

"This is ridiculous! He's gonna need help to get Cody outta there," Kix says. Crosshair chuckles at bit, smirking. "He's gonna get the gunship outta there, not Cody."

I stare at him for a moment, before turning back to Wrecker, who literally lifts the whole ass thing up and turns it on the other side, freeing Cody. Wrecker carries Cody on his back and walks away from the debris.

"Boom."

Boom indeed. The gunship explodes and I flinch and step back a bit, because I have no interest in getting paralyzed today. Wrecker sets Cody down on the ground as Kix checks on him. Definitely not good. Cody looks like he just got kicked in the balls, really hard.

"He has internal damage," Kix reports. "I can cut the pain, but he needs help fast."

"We all need help," Crosshair says as he looks ahead, and for a moment I think he's saying that we all need mental help, which isn't exactly wrong, but then I look in the direction that he's looking and see a bunch of droids headed towards us.

"That blast gave away our position," Crosshair says.

"I thought getting shot down gave away our position," Hunter argues.

"I think both did," I cross my arms and say from behind.

"Everyone, find cover. We'll hold this position and let them come to us," Rex says. 

"I don't think so, Captain. That's not our style. We prefer going to them. Bad Batch, plan 82, "shockwave"," Hunter says, and I'm starting to like these guys already. So I just sit back, relax, and enjoy the show.

Wrecker grabs a piece of metal from the gunship that's literally big enough to cover the 4 of them and they run into the blaster fire, the piece of metal blocking them from getting shot. Then I see one of them throwing a stun grenade and then Crosshair fucking shoots it mid-air, which I gotta admit IS FUCKING AWESOME, and they do it a few more times before splitting up and dealing with the remaining droids.

I run over to Wrecker, Tech and Crosshair. "THAT WAS SO FUCKING COOL BRO," I look at Crosshair, and he just puts a toothpick into his mouth and turns away.

"Aren't you a little short to be a reg?" Tech asks. 

"That's none of your business," I say, shooting a glare at him. I still haven't warmed up to them yet, but I wouldn't mind warming up to Crosshair, he's so fucking cool and maybe I could get him to teach me how to shoot a sniper sometime, I'll probably have to bribe him with toothpicks though.

So anyways, Rex and the others start walking ahead and we follow them, I stay at the back and Crosshair seems to be the one who wants to walk behind everyone else, including me. 

And here I was thinking that I was gonna be at the back.

We walk for a while, and we decide to set up camp in the forest, it's turning night now. Hunter goes to eat dirt or smth and I sit next to Kix and Jesse.

"So I get what makes the other Batchers unique, but what's so special about Hunter?" Jesse asks.

"He can put up with the other three," Kix replies, and all of us smirk slightly.

"He was engineered with heightened senses. A place like the Cyber Center, Hunter can feel the electromagnetic frequencies from anywhere on the planet," Tech says. 

"And here I was thinking we were smart just using a holomap," Jesse nudges me and Kix with his elbow.

"Well, maps can be wrong. Hunter never is."

"So is he eating the dirt or something?" I ask, and Kix and Jesse burst out laughing, I try to keep a straight face under my helmet. 

"He is feeling the dirt, not eating it," Tech says, and I roll my eyes. I hear Cody groaning in the corner, he doesn't look so good, and Rex is beside him, telling him to hang in there. Then he stands up. "Listen up. We have to move out."

Crosshair stands up and walks towards Rex. "Commander Cody's in no position to move."

"Already called in evac. Kix will stay with Cody until it arrives. I'm in charge now. And I've got a plan to get into that Cyber Center."

Crosshair takes his toothpick out from his mouth and points it at Rex. "If your plans are so good, why did Commander Cody have to call us in?" 

Wrecker stands up as well and walks over. And so does Jesse. "You can't talk to Captain Rex like that!" 

I roll my eyes from under my helmet, sighing. Can we not do this right now? 

"Says who?" Wrecker growls, picking Jesse up by the neck. Rex tries to get Wrecker to put him down while Crosshair puts Kix in a choke hold, and I give him a punch to the face and a kick in the balls for that. Crosshair's definitely not happy as he stumbles back a bit, and he kicks me in the chest, sending me down to the floor, and my helmet falls off. 

"Uh guys-" Tech tries to get everyone to calm down.

"Wrecker, drop him. Now," Hunter commands, and we all turn to him as Wrecker drops Jesse onto the ground. "Fellas, cmon! We're all fighting for the same thing, right?"

I take out my vibro-knife and move behind Crosshair, holding the knife to his neck and him in a choke hold from behind.

Hunter sighs. "All right then. Let's cut the chatter and finish what we started. We'll do it your way, Captain. For Commander Cody."

I let go of Crosshair as Rex gives me that "don't make this worse" look, and toothpick boi dusts himself off.

"Okay. Let's gear up and move out," Rex says.

Now that the batch know that I'm a female, there's no point putting on my helmet until we're in battle, so I just carry it under my arm for now. Crosshair and I stay at the back of the group, and he glares down at me, he's like a whole head taller than me, and I glare up at him.

"Didn't expect you to be a female," he says as he puts a toothpick into his mouth. 

"Didn't expect you to be addicted to toothpicks. Why not try chewing gum or something? You could get splinters if you chew the toothpicks too hard." I'm being slightly nicer now.

Crosshair rolls his eyes. "Gum's too soft. Just like you." 

I glare at him again before moving in front of him, but not before I knock my shoulder into his, showing my annoyance.

Soon, we all put our helmets on and scan the area, making our way closer to the cyber center, blasters drawn. Hunter raises his hand, motioning for us to stop. I see an outpost over the others' heads, we're probably either gonna take it or go around.

"Not our primary target," Hunter says. "It's an outpost. Should we take it?"

"Probably easier than going around," Rex replies.

"Alright, what're your orders? We pick them off from the tree line one by one?"

"Actually, I was thinking we take a page from your book. Rush them head on."

HELL YEA.

"Heh. I like your style."

So we take some shots at the droids and then we run out from where we were hiding, blasting at the droids. I stab one in the head just before Hunter can, and I smirk at him from under my helmet as we run into the lift, I can feel his annoyance at me stealing his kill.

"Too slow?" I ask, as the lift ascends, and we each face different directions, shooting the droids. I go for melee this time, drawing my sword in one hand and my knife in the other, and I slice up a few droids. Crosshair throws one against the wall and I throw my knife at it, it hits the middle of the droid's head. As Tech blasts the last droid, Wrecker comes up through the lift.

He looks around, blaster ready, but all the droids are already dead. He takes off his helmet. "Is it over already? Aw man!"

We all take off our helmets. "Not bad," Hunter says to Rex. "For a reg."

We head over to the window of the outpost, and look out.

"Well, there it is. The Cyber Center," Rex says.

"It looks like the Cyber Center itself has minimal guards, about 30 droids," Tech says as he does some stuff with the control panels. "Oh, wait, wait. I got a massive signal coming in. A whole platoon of droids is headed this way."

"Someone's noticed our handiwork back at the crash site," Hunter says.

"Yeah. Make sure you keep an eye on those incoming Separatist forces. I wanna know when they reach this outpost. We gotta move swiftly."

"We'll grab some speeder bikes and flank them from the back," Hunter says.

I follow Jesse and Rex and we sneak behind 2 battle droids, tackling them from behind and shooting them down.

We hide behind a tree and look out at the battle droids guarding the cyber center.

"Is everyone in position?" Rex asks.

"Affirmative," I hear Hunter say through the comms, and then Crosshair says the same thing.

"Cap, you wanted to know when those Separatist forces breached the outpost. Well, they're getting there just about now," Tech says through the comms.

Rex, Jesse and I get ready to shoot the droids guarding the entrance. Rex aims and shoots the head off the yellow-headed one, and we all run in, blasting droids left and right. Rex throws a stun grenade at the group of droids, knocking them down, and we take cover behind some crates.

We move forwards, still taking cover and blasting the droids. I can feel the adrenaline rush that I missed so much. 

Hunter and Wrecker come out of the doors behind the droids that we're blasting at, taking care of them quickly. We run over to them as a transport comes into view. Definitely carrying more droids.

"Better get in there, Cap," Wrecker says as him, Hunter, Jesse and I wait to blast the droids that will be coming out any second now.

Beams carrying dozens of b2 super battle droids extend out, and the droids drop to the ground and start firing at us. We move to the side a bit, avoiding their blaster fire and firing back. In most cases, I could sneak behind and cut them all in half, but there's too many of them, and I don't feel like dying today.

The battle droids advance and we take cover behind some crates.

"Crosshair, we're gonna need a lift," Hunter says into the comms as the rest of us continue blasting the droids.

"Not gonna be a problem," Crosshair replies through the comms, and suddenly I'm thinking about how he's gonna solo the entire group of battle droids like how those pro snipers do in Call of Duty. Having one on your team is useful, but having one on the opposing team is an absolute nightmare.

The battle droids are getting closer and we retreat into the Cyber Center, still shooting as many droids as we can, and then we reach the room where Rex is in and tell him to go. We run through the hallway and out through the back door, where we're surrounded by a bunch of droids, but we're still blasting at them.

Then a vehicle descends behind us and Crosshair is driving it. We all get in and he drives us outta there.

I climb to the seat behind Crosshair.

"Didn't know you could fly," I say to him as I take off my helmet. "You got any of those toothpicks that I can chew?"

Crosshair rolls his eyes. "No. Go chew your gum." I roll my eyes back at him and sit behind him, turning to Rex.

"Hey Captain, what intel did you get?" I ask him.

"Transmission from Skako Minor. I asked them who it was. They said CT-1409," Rex says, and my eyes widen, but I try to keep my composure.

"Echo..." 

"Yea kid. Echo's alive."

[bluenpinkcastle]

20240209: the History of LEGO Castle day 040. 6059-1 Knight's Stronghold (1990, 228 pieces, 76 different parts) The Knight's Stronghold is a black and light gray castle wall built on three green 4x12 plates. The three plates are connected by hinges, allowing the wall to be spread out, angled, or moved into a very closed wall configuration. The main part of this stronghold are the two 1x5x11 brown doors as the front part of the gate. There is also a blue and black battering ram with limited catapult abilities and a small jail. The five minifigures in this set include three Black Knight soldiers and two Black Falcons knights. One of the Black Falcon knights rides a white horse with a blue saddle and a dark gray lance with a blue flag. The knight has a black torso with black arms, a printed silver breastplate, black legs with a black belt, and wears a black helmet with a dark gray visor and a blue three plume feather, carrying a dark gray sword and a black and white split falcon shield with a blue border. The other Black Falcon knight has a blue torso with black arms and the silver breastplate print with blue legs and a black belt wearing a black archer helmet and holding a dark gray crossbow. The remaining three minifigures are Black Knight soldiers, with red torsos with red arms and silver scale mail, red legs with a black belt. Most of the sets for the next chunk of history will not have boxes, but the alternate builds from the instruction book include a different wall configuration with a catapult, a tower, a jail, and a pavillion. Brickwood Creations on Rebrickable has several alternate building instructions for the Knight's Stronghold. This set introduced the 1x5x11 brown door gate, which only comes in three other sets from 1990-1997 (6081-1 King's Mountain Fortress, 6090-1 Royal Knights' Castle, and 9376-1 Education and Dacta Castle Set). This set also introduces another part that becomes part of consistent production, the crossbow. In this first set, the crossbow comes in dark gray. This set also has the end connector bricks with a connector pin, meaning this set can be added to other LEGOLAND Castle System sets. I look forward to doing that at some point in the future because I think it would be insanely cool to see how everything connects :) I think this set also starts more of the precedent of using larger bricks and panels to take up more space and have fewer smaller parts. With that said, though, this is a very fun set! It's great to have a gate large enough to drive most of the carts and wagons so far through, as well as large brown doors that actually look like large wooden doors. The different configurations are also really neat. This is great set and a fantastic addition to the Black Knights sets. Parts inventory for this set can be found at either BrickLink or Rebrickable and a free download of the instructions can be found at ToysPeriod.

[movedtodykedvonte]

You’re just gonna casually drop that in the tags without telling us your cool deltarune ship names? (Unless you already have and I missed it)

I have a few, mainly for the ships I think about the most. I wouldn’t say they are cool but at least they aren’t just name mashes and have some meaning for these characters. The more thought out ones you can easily tell.

Asgore x Toriel : Royal Reunion or The Nose Nuzzle Champions’ Comeback

Asgore x Sans : Bone Throne

Kris x Berdly : Competitive Gaymers

Susie x Noelle : Horror Holiday

Kris x Susie x Noelle : Holiday Hijinks

Spamton x Swatch : Pallette Pals or Paint Job

Spamton x Addisons : multi level making-out (mlm) or All We Do Is Date!!! (I do like addicule/addisoncule tho)

Spamton x Jevil : Funny Business

Spamton x Mike : Speaker Phone

Queen x Spam : Royal AD-visor or White Collar Crown

Seam x Jevil : Cat in the Box or Magic Tricked

For specifically the CDAP au with my Addisons (it’s a polycule but when im specifically focusing on two of these losers):

Banner x Surv : Revolution Lovers or This Isn’t Professional

Banner x Vidie : Aquired Taste or Tea Time

Banner x Audi : Doting Duo or Fit Check

Banner x Spam : Unwanted Survey or Test Drive

Surv x Audi : Fitness Fit

Surv x Vidie : Passion Punch

Surv x Spam : Speed Limit or Speed Bag

Vidie x Audi : Tea Party or Accessorized

Vidie x Spam : Hibiscus with Vanilla

Audi x Spam : Dress up Dolls or Pinned Strings

I don’t ship a lot in fandom but this is what I usually think about when I see a ship and the name is just a name mash. Immediately I wanna make it fun and goofy.

[tsuki-sennin]

With God Kabuto and God Scorpion having been revived and willing to stand against the Underground Empire Bognaarok, Yanma and Himeno affirm their belief in Gira by allowing him to steal away into the night. Gira returns to his orphanage in Shugoddam only to find that the royal guard has taken the children as collateral. Rita lays out Racules's terms for Gira: a duel to the death for the sake of the throne.

Thus the story goes~!

Spoilers, I guess...

-Rita stands as our referee.

-Oh and of course Gira gets put in the deep freeze.

-Seems like Hastie's ad

-Gira Did Nothing Wrong

-"Peaceful Protest? In MY Neighborhood?!"

-Kaguragi, you motherfucker <3

-Whoa, take it easy man!

-This may be an odd comparison, but like...

-Racules reminds me a lot of Reaver from the Fable series, if you ever played those games. Like, the way he talks, the manipulation, the coldbloodedness...

-...I wonder if he does kill steals during a game's (anti)-climax?

-Yoooo, Yanma! :D

-...are you guys burning your own flag?

-Giiii-ra!

-"Louder, you motherfuckers!"

-Himeno on Zoom.

-...er uh... whatever they call it there, Zomo.

-"Eh, y'know, not the worst thing to happen..."

-God Kuwagata wasn't there for us.

-Rita can hear you just fine, Himeno.

-"Do you... not want him~?"

-Oh hello Dezzy.

-Seems like Jimmy's not impressing you.

-OHHHHH HELLO

-Everywhere and nowhere. A mere phantom.

-Scorpi Venom?

-Scorched Peanuts.

-"Please tell me about your kidnapping, Gira-kun."

-Ohhhhhhh, Rita

-Extortion of the highest order.

-Ah yep. Scorpi was extorted.

-"You dare doubt a KING!?"

-"It's a super special present~!"

-Ah yes! Poison! That is totally not purple food dye.

-Fighting dirty!

-I'm gonna be real, I don't quite get your plan here, man.

-Like, I sure hope you burned off your fingerprints before swiping that sample.

-Gira vs. Racules. It's battle time.

-Go Gira!

-"Surrender or death. There is no other victory."

-Ohhhhhhhh

-Here comes the battle.

-"En garde... Allez!"

-Oh Qua God!

-Ohgai Busou!

-Lord of the Shugod!

-Ohkuwagata Ohger!

-King Racules stood beneath the blue sky. A golden sword in his right hand and silver armor covering his body. A sneer no doubt crossed his face beneath the visor as Ohkuwagata Ohger extended the OhgerCalibur ZERO. Its status as a prototype for Gira's own weapon was made clear as day by a stripped down frame. It'd be a truly challenging battle... but Gira understood there was truly no way he could back down.

-Hot damn. Racules definitely does know how to use it.

-"What the fuck are you doing?"

-Let's goooo!

-"Gira's Mine :3"

-Omfg this style

-ANESTHETIC

-"Yep~! ...Er... wait, did I? :3"

-AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

-"Kaguragi, I understand this is something extremely difficult for you to do, but please be honest with me."

-Motherfucker went soaring!

-"Surrender or die. Those are your only choices."

-Gira wants you to laugh.

-Racules was so threatened by a child.

-The Undefeated King of Evil stands!

-Ooooooh that unmasked shot was cool

-Ohger Finish!

-"Giraaaaaaa~! My bestie~!" THAT IS NOT YANMA THAT'S THE BUG GUY

-"HOW DARE YOU INTERRUPT ME?!"

-Seizure Meds

-"Save who, boy?"

-HOLY SHIT

-RACULES YOU-

-Jesus Christ, the way he plays this game

-What the fuck are you doing, Kaguragi?

-The undefeated king of evil. Falling to his doom, with only the lost children to mourn him.

-"Racules Wins. Fatality."

-"Gira? :("

-That plan of yours was absolutely insane.

-"Uh about that, you're dead..."

-OH?

-That must be God Batta.

-God Hopper? God Kirigirisu?

-Gira's a dead man walking. There's no way he can be declared dead in absentia in such a short amount of time, so he's definitely not gonna be out of the public eye for long.

[devdraw-nyu]

Assignment 8: Character Design - Character Sheet Tools: iPad, Procreate Description: The Arbiter Character Sheet 1) Incredible strength allows them to carry their arm cannon with ease. One of their favorite heavy-duty weapons manufactured solely for the Arbiter's use.

2) Adorns robes for diplomatic discussions. Still is a menacing and intimidating presence during intense negotiations over the trade community.

3) The Arbiter treats war as sport, utilizing their primary hunting rifle to obliterate enemies in single blasts. A) The Arbiter's Shawl - A decorative piece that reveals their taste in luxury fabric and royal colors. In practical terms, the shawl protects the Arbiter a tinge more from the cold temperatures found in space. B) The Arbiter's Helmet - Protective headgear the Arbiter always wears. 3 filters are attached to the bottom of the helmet, allowing them to breathe comfortably in space and within oxygenated buildings. The Arbiter's face remains a mystery, as the visor is opaque from any other person's perspective. C) Combat Boots - Tactical boots the Arbiter wears regularly. While the Arbiter is a physical specimen without them, the boots enhance their speed, agility, and jump strength through micro-technology built in the soles.

D) The Wandering Rifle - The Arbiter's prized hunting rifle. A combination of natural and technological innovations created a weapon that utilizes material from the surrounding environment to supply its ammo.

Self-evaluative feedback: The biggest challenge for this assignment was choosing the different positions to portray the character. I had to be comfortable with redrawing the character from different angles, which meant being comfortable with irregularities between one visual characterization to another. I think I could have added more detail to all the characterizations, but I am satisfied with the foundational aspects each characterization brings.

[agrpress-blog]

Romanzo digitale di Antonio Pascotto è un diario perfetto in cui è ben facile distinguere il mondo in cui il passato lascia spazio al presente e poi alle gemme del futuro. Un racconto che comincia con la disperazione del periodo pandemia che ha visto il mondo in ginocchio, fino alla transizione precisa fra il mondo di prima e il mondo di adesso. I momenti già passati si mescolano insieme a quelli dell’imminente futuro. Qui il racconto del protagonista, Giancarlo, che parte dal 2020 e che finisce nel 2033. Le riflessioni dell’autore accompagnano il lettore/lettrice dall’inizio alla fine, presentandogli/presentandole un mondo in cui il filo conduttore è il tempo. Ad avvicendarsi saranno quindi la paura e la voglia di cambiamenti, che, fondendosi insieme, regalano al lettore/lettrice un testo dove le macchine creano, parlano, scrivono persino poesie. L’elemento principale del testo di Pascotto è “tempo”. Lo stesso che divide il mondo del passato da quello in cui adesso viviamo. Il tempo che presenta il mondo futuro, fatto di migliorie e di macchine che si guidano da sole. Fino a raggiungere il concetto di tempo, riconoscendone una veste funerea, dove è ben facile capire che ne resta davvero poco prima della catastrofe imminente che, se non si correrà ai ripari, investirà il mondo umano. Pascotto regala una visione “ambientalista”; esorta infatti i suoi lettori/lettrici ad aver cura del proprio mondo. Di qui arriva l’attento racconto di “The Line”, la città verde che si trova in Arabia Saudita, in cui non esistono emissioni inquinanti e dove la vita si svolge secondo un giusto ritmo di rispetto per l’ambiente. La visione dell’autore è a metà fra la nostalgia del passato - dove a farla da padrone erano giochi come quello dell’oca, un due tre stella, nascondino - e un mondo dove indossando un visore è possibile incontrarsi con i propri amici in rete seduti sulle pendici dell’Everest. La nostalgia del passato si evince nella parte “al miele” del romanzo, dove per l’appunto l’autore si lascia andare al sentimentalismo, scrivendo una lettera, con un carattere a mano libera degno di una nota d’altri tempi. Esso menziona Olivetti, Olympia, Royal, umanizzando in un certo senso macchine il cui obiettivo era quello di facilitare il lavoro umano. Di grande impatto è la riflessione su Chat GPT. L’intelligenza artificiale raccontata in Romanzo digitale è una fra quelle che scrive poesie, canzoni, compone opere. Un modus operandi, quindi, che, in un certo qual modo, sembra sostituire del tutto la mano dell’uomo. La titubanza e la paura umana si evince riga dopo riga, in un discorso che mette al centro l’uomo e i suoi bisogni. Da qui una domanda sorge spontanea: le macchine sostituiranno realmente l’uomo? Una serie di risposte corre ai ripari, in un testo che tiene conto del passato del presente e del futuro. Il testo di Pascotto, inoltre, cuce un’attenta analisi sul periodo della pandemia, che, in un certo senso, sembra aver accelerato la modernità tanto auspicata dall’uomo. Sono molte le argomentazioni connesse al covid 19: l’inizio della pandemia, l’esplosione dei casi, le restrizioni e perfino i risvolti fortemente negativi sulla mente umana, come la depressione, gli aumenti dei casi suicidari, e lo smarrimento. Di grande emozione sono i cosiddetti “simboli” del periodo covid. Pascotto,nella sua brillante esposizione, fa appunto riferimento al Papa fermo da solo in piazza San Pietro in una giornata piovosa (il 27 marzo 2020), ricca di silenzio. E ancora all’infermiera di Cremona che crolla dopo un lunghissimo turno di lavoro al fianco dei suoi ammalati, e per finire l’accecante immagine della coltre di bare a Bergamo. Un testo quello di Pascotto, che, con arguzia e capacità, ripercorre un periodo lunghissimo che parte dalle lettere scritte a mano, fino all’intelligenza artificiale in grado di rispondere a quesiti, dubbi e di creare nuovi soggetti. È un viaggio che parte dal 2020 e che, attraverso il suo protagonista arriva fino al 2033, dove la longevità umana sembra toccare punti mai visti prima.

Un libro curioso, in grado di compiere attente riflessioni sul mondo dei prossimi dieci anni. Un testo che parla a voce alta della tecnologia, del tempo, della ricchezza che abbiano dinanzi e dei limiti che porteranno l’uomo, se non cambia rotta, a vivere tempi difficili. Romanzo digitale di Antonio Pascotto, pubblicato da Jolly Roger edizioni - genere: narrativa/fantascienza; pp. 316 - è disponibile in libreria e online da settembre 2023. http://antoniopascotto.it/ https://www.facebook.com/antonio.pascotto

[syndxlla]

Part ten of the More To Love Series

Summary: The ball is tomorrow night and preparations are in full swing in the Mandalorian Palace. In desperate need of a break from all of the Masquerade planning, you get away from the palace for a few hours. This gives you a chance to reflect on your relationship with the Knight, learn more about his past, and grow closer with Koska.

Word Count: 10.9k, NO ‘Y/N’

Warnings: SMUT (handjob, grinding, this is like actually sort of gross if you over think it so just don’t over think it thanks <3), THIS IS EXPLICIT, 18+ CONTENT, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. Swearing. Mentions of: blood, scars, fighting, hand-to hand combat.

IMPORTANT PLEASE READ: insight of recent events surrounding my tumblr, I have added an additional in-text warning for the smut scenes. This will continue for future chapters for those who do not wish to read the explicit scenes of More to Love.

Author’s Note: HEY, it’s been a little while, huh? Happy to be back. THANK YOU FOR 1k FOLLOWERS HOLY CRAP!! You all mean so much to me and the support of this fic is unlike anything I could have ever asked for! Also... the smut in this gets,, nasty. Like not that bad it isn’t super kinky or needs lots of warnings it’s just... like gross if you think too hard about that so do me a favor and don’t overthink it haha. OKAY LOVE YOU ENJOY

Part Nine

“No, If you keep that elbow down it will throw off your balance.”

“Okay, what if I hold it like this.”

“No it will get more tired faster.”

“Well how long do I have to keep it up like this?”

“Until the song ends!” You sigh, your fingers coming up to hold your eyebrow out of frustration. You and the Knight have been in the library for nearly an hour trying to learn how to waltz together and if you didn’t know any better, you’d guess he had two left feet. He was starting to get the hang of it, though. Slowly but surely and through a lot of trial and error but you don’t have very much room to talk because an hour before this one, he was just as frustrated with you because you couldn’t swing at him with nearly enough power needed to make some damage on anyone. This is how you’ve spent your last two evenings with the knight. The two of you sarcastically bullying one another in learning the opposite’s art. It was already Friday, the ball was tomorrow and you weren’t sure if he was going to be able to pull it together in time. The worst part is that you haven’t had anytime privately with him to do your... usual antics. There was always someone with you, usually Korkie or Koska, or the dance and fighting practice took up too much time to really have any fun.

The palace has been bustling the last two days. Every servant has had a task they were always doing, there was no down time for them which meant lots of downtime for the Royals. If there was no one to set up tea, then there would be no tea, simple as that.

Because of the high workload put on the staff of the palace, each royal has been subject to dinner in their own rooms alone this week, which was a dream come true for you. Dinner was your least favorite time of the day because of how painful it was to get through socially. And it also meant you got to spend more time with your own thoughts. You still aren’t sure what to do about the marriage, especially since you’ve admitted to yourself that you think you are falling for the beskar-clad knight who stands watch outside your door.

Even Soniee has been spending less time inside your quarters pampering you (you could really use a bubble bath). At all hours of the day, there was either a team of butlers carrying large bouquets of flowers down ornate hallways, a chef interrupting your dress fitting with Soniee and Koska to have you try another flower-flavored mousse, or an immediate meeting with the Queen to learn about some of your guests who will be at the masquerade and how to properly greet them. One time yesterday, you were asked to review the lanterns they picked out for the garden decorations. You were so indifferent to the ones they picked that the servants actually sent you back inside out of frustration. Along with the controlled chaos of preparations, the mask making has still left you feeling guilty. Just this morning you caught a glimpse of Koska’s shaky hands that had clearly been pricked by one too many needles while sewing jewels into the Queen’s mask. You must have apologized too much because she eventually got snarky and asked you to quit saying sorry about it. As much as you would like to dance with your knight with others looking on, you weren’t sure if it was worth all the pain and labor others were putting themselves through for it.

Party planning was exhausting, and on top of all of it, you needed to teach the most uncoordinated man in the kingdom how to waltz. It genuinely baffled you how he was able to be so methodical and perfect in hand-to hand combat and in bed but can barely hold his own in situations such as these. There was something charming about that flaw, however.

Now, the golden sunlight of the aging day was pouring into the towering windows of the Mandalorian library. It had made the room warm, and showed just how valuable the knight’s dark skin was as his bare hands soaked in the rays. You caught yourself staring at them a few too many times, which to your dismay, he caught you doing.

“You’re staring again.” He says while the two of you are practicing the basic 1, 2, 3 waltz step. Your eyes jump back to the emotionless visor of the beskar helmet which looked down at your face. You didn’t even realize you were looking at your hand holding out to the right, studying the way his knuckles looked and how clean his fingernails were.

“Sorry… It’s just that dancing is usually an emotional thing, you’re supposed to play off of eachother I suppose.” You shrug, stopping the dance. You realized you had been searching for something to play off of, anything, even if it’s just the calloused fingers of a hard worker.

You wouldn’t think the two of you would be so far behind and underprepared but for a majority of these rehearsals you’ve been the one leading as he figures it out. You know how bad it would look if you were the one leading tomorrow, and you’re starting to lose hope that you’re going to pull this off. You had wished you started teaching him earlier, but knew that he would have never agreed before now.

“Princess, you do realize that you’re probably still not going to see my face if we dance tomorrow.” He drops your hands. You sigh, you did know it, you just didn’t want to admit it.

“I know… when do you take it off?” You couldn’t remember if you had asked this already. Maybe you were out of line for asking, but a piece of you didn’t care, you deserved to know.

He was quiet, he always was when you asked him something personal. Maybe he was hoping you would get the idea by now…

“When I eat, when I sleep… sometimes around my son. Sometimes around other guards.” He said as he walked towards one of the library windows. You followed him, a few footsteps behind. He stopped at the glass, his reflection disturbing the pristine scene outside. You could see the beach from this window, not as well as in other parts of the castle, but the horizon of the Mandalorian sea was still in view. Your reflection came up behind his. You could see the exhale of his lungs from the shift in armor weight.

“I understand if you never want to show me.” You said. You didn’t really believe that, but you did respect him, and because of that you had to accept the reality that he may never show you. Maybe you were just trying to convince yourself that. You walk a little further to him and stand up on your tippy-toes so that you may rest your chin on his shoulder, looking out at the world below. It was so peaceful from up here. You’ve only left palace grounds once in the last two weeks and you desperately want to again. Being cooped up inside an oil painting was getting exhausting. “I want to go somewhere.” You mutter, your arms wrapping around his waist to hug him from behind: a pure and innocent act of affection.

“What?” His helmet turns to the side just a little bit so that you might hear him better. “Like… the Garden? The Parlor?”

“No!” You chuckle against his pauldron, “Outside, I want to get out of the palace again.”

“Did you forget what happened last time we went out?” He asks meditatively. “We can’t risk anything happening to you before tomorrow, The Queen would be furious, and even worse, Koska would be too.”

“Of course I didn’t forget! I’ll have the scar to always remind me” You giggle at his remark. “And besides, I-I want to go to the water.” You step out from behind him to look out at and gesture to the gentle waves against the golden beach. “I’ve been on a sandy beach before.” You clear your throat.

“We… might be able to arrange that. How about we go on Sunday? After the ball?” He attempts to negotiate.

“Or we could go now? There’s no formal dinner tonight.” You suggest.

“Your parents are coming in tonight, along with a number of other guests, not to mention Grand General Vizsla, all the Royal Guard is to be presented to him at nine.” He groans, but you were determined to convince him. You really needed a break from all of the planning, fittings and tastings.

“So? It’s barely five! We can just go for a little while!” You say as you look at the grandfather clock that sits nestled between two bookcases. You weren't feeling very optimistic, you doubted he would not budge, he’s always been so stubborn. “I can repay you…” You bite your lip. You were also incredibly horny and remember overhearing a maid back home talk about sex on the beach. It had always excited you.

He sighs again.

“Please? For me? I seriously deserve a break, so do you.” You reach out to stroke his hand. You knew that would probably work, it has before.

“Fine-“

“Really!?”

“Yes, but we have to tell Koska just so they don’t think we’re missing again.” He turns to walk out of the library. You silently congratulate yourself on getting the most unmovable and obedient man in the galaxy to go against his orders and do what you want. You happily skip behind him. “It takes a while to get all the way down to the beach so we should probably take a horse.” He says on the move. “Do you know how to ride?”

“I’m royalty, of course I do… do you?” You revising a teasing eyebrow.

He scoffs at your question, “There is much you do not know about me.”

“Well, you make it sort of hard for me to learn.” You roll your eyes playfully. He elbows you in the side, knocking you off your balance. You attempt to do the same to him, nudging him right back but not even getting the boy to budge and hurting your funny bone a little against the Beskar.

It takes you two a few minutes of complete silence and portrait-perfect stature to get all the way down the palace into the servants quarters. The only other time you had been in these narrow, stone hallways in the ground level of the Mandalorian Castle was earlier this week after Korkie begrudgingly led you back to your quarters in a wet peasant gown and a stinging bicep.

By the time the knight and yourself had made it down here, he was leading you through the maze of corridors, past helmetless knights who all nodded out of respect as they passed you, and into a wooden-arch. The room you had entered into must have been the servant’s common room, because it was about the size of the dining room. A candle-lit, wooden chandelier hung over four long tables, unlike the glass and oil-lamp chandeliers in the rest of the palace. A large fireplace burned on one wall, illuminating the room more and several small, gothic-arch windows towards the ceiling allowed warm light to pour into the cozy hall. Several handmaidens bejeweled masks at one table, twice as many sewed the bases of the coverings at another. One table showcased all of the finished designs, which depicted extravagant bird beaks, colorful fox and wolf snouts, towering cat and rabbit ears, ornate peacock tails, sharp antlers and horns on some and even incredible tusks on a few. They were all breathtaking, and while you felt guilty for making so many staff members work double-time, you appreciated their handy-work in making your dream come true.

The fourth and final table was mostly empty, a few elderly and child servants ate potato soup at it, and one maid cleaned her finger-nails at the opposite end. Everything was so simple and normal, it was such a display of controlled chaos that almost made you forget about the corruption in Mandalore… almost.

A sharp whistle rang through the room, and immediately, everyone dropped what they were doing, stood up swiftly from their seats on the long benches that paralleled each table, and turned to look at you before bowing deeply and diligently. They hadn’t even noticed you were there at first and interrupting their normalcy was not what you intended to do, but then you caught sight of who it was that sang the whistle. Koska Reeves was walking through the bowed, silent heads to you and the Knight. She looked exhausted, her hair was down and over her shoulders instead of pinned up in the intricate braids she usually wore them in when she was around royalty. The amount of fly-always was distracting but you couldn’t blame her, she would not disappoint the Queen with her work, even if that meant looking a little rough and disheveled.

“What’s the meaning of this? All royalty is supposed to be approved before coming in here.” She says to your knight chivalrously, then turns to you, “This is no sight for you, princess.” Something told you that she wasn’t only referring to the activities taking place in the common room. “I am sorry for our disorder.”

“No worries, Lady Reeves. There’s no need to apologize. I am most impressed by the work done on the masks for tomorrow.” You gesture to the table with the completed designs.

She sighs and smiles, “Thank you.” She nods before turning around, “Carry On!” She calls out to the room and everyone returns to normal as if nothing out of the ordinary happened, as if you weren’t even there. There was something you liked about that, something that reminded you that even though you have a lucky bloodline, you’re human too, and not all that different from the workers in this very room. Their daily routine was fascinating to you. “What do you two want?” She hushes her voice and drops her “right-hand woman to the queen”, first lady-in-waiting and head of the Mandalorian royal staff persona. She’s now the same brash friend you two shared.

“We want to go out for a while, it’ll just be a few hours but we knew we needed to tell someone in case anyone notices that we’re missing.” The Knight nods, explaining the situation. She raises a questionable eyebrow.

“Absolutely not, we cannot risk anything happening to her before tomorrow night.” Your heart drops.

“That’s what I said, but she’s incredibly convincing.” He shrugs, tilting his head just enough to show the extra bit of emotion. Koska looks between the two of you, her hands perched firmly on her hips. You caught sight of her hands again, which were now bandaged tightly with the same white gauze that she wrapped your cut arm with earlier this week. You wondered if that was done to dress bleeding wounds, keep the shakiness from over-working and late nights in control, or a dreadful mix of both. A terrible feeling told you it was the third.

“Vizsla is going to be here.” She raises an eyebrow, her intimidating demeanor hasn’t gone away even after she’s become aware of your little secret (well, actually massive, life-altering, “how-the-hell-am-I-gonna-fix-this?” secret). “If you aren’t here, that could result in a court-martial from the Queen herself.”

“Sounds tempting.” He replies.

“You and I both know what’s going to happen to you and your little boy if you step out of line, even once, which is why I’m guarding your scandle so close to my heart.” Her voice get’s real quiet when she says that, and he shifts his weight. Your heart drops, what in the world could she mean by that? “You know what could happen to you if I accidentally slip something, that’s why I won’t cover for you.”

“What the hell does that mean?” You whisper. She glances at you and then right back to him.

“Wow, you really haven’t told her much, have you?” Koska’s arms move from her hips into a fold over her chest. He doesn’t respond.

“Told me much about what?” You ask, worried about whatever was going on that you didn’t know about. Every day you’re reminded about how much of a stranger he really is to you.

“All she knows is that I had an old job, that’s all she needs to know.” He bites back, his voice equally hushed.

“If you’re fucking her, she deserves to know a lot more, but that’s just my opinion.” Koska chuckles once and you blush red hot. “I mean, at least tell her your name.”

“Why is this happening here? Now?” He gestures to the very crowded room. “Look, we just want to go down to the beach for an hour at the most. We’ll be back long before Vizsla gets here. You won’t have to cover for us, I swear.” He tries changing the subject but your mind is racing with the possibilities and confusion of the conversation you were just welcomed into.

Koska looks between the two of you a few times again, carefully considering what’s on the table and the risk. “Fine, one horse. I mean it, only one because if two are gone, someone will notice and then I’m gonna have to do exactly what I told you I wouldn’t do and what you said I won't have to: cover for your ass. Get out of here.” She beckons her head to a door that leads outside as a smile spreads across your cheeks. “Djarin! Don’t be late!” She calls out as you begin walking. That’s the second time you have heard that word, both times uttered from Koska’s mouth. Something wanted you to believe that might be his name but you were far too scared to find out for your own. You would try to remember it this time.

The knight leads you out of the room, and you watch Koska over your shoulder as you follow, studying the way she stood still immediately after you walk away, taking a few deep, sharp breaths and then promptly returning to her work. You wondered if she was tired, remembering that not everyone who lives in the Mandalorian Palace has the same relaxing lifestyle that you have.

Despite the aging daylight, it was still deathly hot. The heat of summer bled onto your shoulders, which were still partially covered due to the scarring cut in your muscle. The clothing only added to the heat. The part of the Castle grounds you were were foreign to you. They weren’t the beautiful, lush and trimmed gardens or breezy courtyards you usually spend your afternoons in, no. It was dark, the tall height of the palace shading the courtyard where knights sparred and a pair of little servant girls chased one another. One wall that lined the courtyard was the horse stables, and another was a blacksmith. The golden light shone through the stables, and you were able to spot the four white horses that took you and Korkie to Keldabe earlier this week despite the beasts being backlit.

“You can ride, I’ll just walk.” He says as he guides you to a palomino, a tall horse with a Caramel body and pure white mane.

“Are you sure?” You ask, not wanting him to have to walk.

“Of course.” He says as he mindlessly bridles the horse, petting him on the nose a few times. “Do you prefer a saddle?” He asks. You nod, and he swings the seat over the back of the steed.

“Does this horse have a name?” You ask, reaching your hand out to pet his neck a few times. The horse nickers at your touch.

“He likes you.” The Knight chuckles. You smile at the statement, and continue to stroke the soft hair on the neck. “Clove.” He says, his voice velvet and full of caring. The knight knew this horse. They had a bond. “Here.” He holds his hand up for you to hoist yourself onto the saddle. You were in no way dressed for riding, and the saddle wasn’t even a side-riding seat, but you would make it work. You knew that on the palace grounds you would have to ride side-saddle, it’s customary, and how you learned. But that didn’t mean you couldn’t ride regularly. The horses back home in Corellia were massive beasts, animals suited for harsh winters and heavy amounts of snow, thick fur covers their ankles so that they can trudge through deep snow and pull sleighs. The Mandalorian horses were far more majestic, more like show horses than work horses. Clove was gentle, though, that was something that wasn’t common for the strong horses up north. He didn’t move a muscle or bat an eyelash as you heave yourself onto his back, adjusting yourself to sit properly, the knight’s hand holding yours tightly as you positioned yourself and then rearranging the heavy skirt of your dress to properly cover your legs. His plan grazes your shin as he does it, and your eyes immediately catch the visor of his beskar helmet. You liked to think he was looking at your eyes, too. The moment is so still, time freezing for half a second.

He starts to walk the horse out of the opposite side of the stable and into the field behind the palace. You could see the tree line of the garden from here. The bridle was tightly wrapped around his hand as he led the two of you out of the palace and into the hot, hot sun. This was the first time you’ve ridden a horse in a very long time, and you had almost forgotten how much you loved it. A cheesy smile was on your face, and your eyes cycled from the mane of the horse, the shoreline ahead, the back side of the ornate castle and the top of the helmet of the knight. The sun reflected off of the beskar, causing a bright illumination to shine on the bodice of your gown. He walked methodically and quietly, and you wanted to start a conversation with him but it didn’t feel right.

Comfortable silence is often overlooked, something taken for granted that is really only shared between two trusting people. You aren’t sure if you’ve ever experienced a genuine comfortable silence with anyone before. Being a royal has a lot of “fine print”, one of which being that no one ever shut up. Korkie isn’t the only self-centered, talkative royal in this world. The thing that sets Korkie aside from the rest is the fact that you’ll have to deal with it intimately for the rest of your life.

There was something wildly attractive about the introvert by your side. Because he was few with words, it caused you to seek them out, and cherish what little you did get. He was warming up to you, opening up and every time you get a moment alone with him, he says a little more. Your conversations now are very different from that first night in the castle when he helped you untie your corset. All he said originally was “Goodnight, Princess”, and now he’s telling you about the stars and teaching you how to fight and defend yourself. The idea that it’s happened too fast has crossed your mind several times, but you considered that when you’re alone with someone almost all day, every day, you’re bound to get to know one another quicker than usual. However, you’ve also been afraid that you came off too harsh, maybe you jumped into it all too fast and overwhelmed him. What if he’s only complying to the relationship because he’s obligated to through his duty? You had to admit that there were a number of insecurities surrounding your friendship, you would be lying to yourself if you didn’t think that. Maybe you felt that way because you relied so heavily on him to get away from the other boy in your life who you can’t escape no matter how hard you try. Was it entirely possible that the knight feels about you the way you feel about Korkie? That very thought made you sick, your stomach twisting and preventing you from enjoying the beautiful landscape ahead.

“What’s wrong?” He asks. He noticed that you had tensed up. You silently curse yourself for not hiding it better.

“What?” Your look down at him, forcing a false smile. He was looking up at you now, his hand resting on your knee. Your eyes move from where he holds you and back up to the visor on his helmet. “Oh… nothing.” You hum.

“You are a fool if you think you can hide anything from me.” He tilts his head and your cheeks burn with blush. You sigh, knowing you should tell him. The chances are that expressing these concerns to him might give you a piece of mind… or they could do the exact opposite. You aren’t sure if you can take the emotional weight of resenting two men who you admire. You admire them for entirely different reasons, however. You admire Korkie for his dedication to his kingdom, and you admire that he’s genuinely trying his best. However, you admire the Knight for his kindness, his patience, his protection. You admire his velour voice, his plush lips, and the way he touches you. You admire that he’s a father, that he’s split his dedication between his duty to his kingdom and his duty to his son. You admire his deep chuckle, and the way he kisses you, the way you can see him laugh when you shoot him silly faces during dinner. You both admired and was frustrated by his obedience to his creed. He kept promises, no matter how life-altering they may be.

As you reflect on all the reasons he meant anything to you, you felt a sense of peace. It was better, the feeling in your stomach, that is. You decide it is right to tell him, you recall your governess explaining to you that all good relationships are built on enthusiastic communication, and you wanted your relationship with the Knight to be considered ‘good’. You sigh and then speak up, “I just…” You take a sharp, deep breath in the middle of your sentence before speaking up again, “just lots of insecurities, I suppose.” You shrug.

“Insecure- about what?” He asks.

“Everything, but especially us.” You didn’t really want to have this conversation, but you knew you had to.

“May I ask why?” His tone was sincere.

You aren’t sure how to reply at first. “Is it too fast? Am I too much?” You ask after careful consideration of what you were going to bring up first.

“What? No.” You think this was the first time he had ever replied immediately after you ask him something. “What makes you think that?”

“I don’t know-“

“Yes you do… tell me.” He reassures.

“Our personalities are different, you’re quiet and stoic…”

“Is that… bad?”

“No! No, not at all. Royals just aren’t that, and I worry if we’re compatible enough. And don’t mistake me, I admire that about you, but I fear I’m too much for you.” You sigh, shaking your head. Clove nickers again as if he’s listening in on your conversation and chiming in. He doesn’t respond right away which you’ve gotten used to, but if it was any other situation you wouldn’t be overthinking it. You can’t take the silence anymore and speak up, “And there’s the added factor that I’m totally cheating on Korkie with you-”

“-If I thought you were too much, do you think I would let you teach me how to dance?” He interrupts. The words halt in your mouth, and you look at him almost dumbfounded. “Or do you think I would be teaching you how to defend yourself? Fucking you on a royal sofa in an un-locked room? Risking my title to take you to the beach?” He almost sounded… angry? Had you offended him for thinking that? Your legs tensed up on the horse, and you regretted everything you had said. He did have a point, you hadn’t really thought of that.

“I… suppose you’re right.” You mutter.

“I don’t have to be doing any of this,” He grabs your hand, holding it in his and uses his other hand to halt the horse. The three of you pause in the field between the beach and the castle. There had been a downgrade so you were mostly hidden but you could still the upper-towers of the palace. He looks up and you, and you find yourself wishing you could see his eyes again. “But I do because I’m… fond of you.” It sounds like he’s having a hard time getting the words out, but that isn’t very uncommon for him. Your heart flares up, this was the first time he had ever admitted anything like that.

“W-what?” You ask, sounding like a fool.

“I know, it’s crazy. How could a halfwit like myself deserve a Princess like you?” He chuckles under his breath. “Maybe the elf laid a spell on me, I don’t know. But I do know that ever since I was given the duty of protecting you, my life has been different.” You can’t believe what you’re hearing. “I’ve… I’ve never felt this way about anyone, and I don’t know what it is but I-I-“ You smile fondly, and use his hand to hop off the horse. You bring your hands up to hold the back of his neck.

“It’s not a spell.” You whisper. “I feel it too.”

“Then it’s a spell on both of us.”

“Maybe.” You move your hands up to his helmet, desperately wanting to remove it, but you remember what you told yourself the other day. If he wishes to show you his face, it should be his choice, he deserves to be the one to take the beskar off. You would respect that. Instead, you just run your fingertips along the lip of the helmet, looking into the visor enchantingly. “Then it would be a wonderful spell.”

His hands find their way to your waist, hugging you to his chest. You rest or head on his shoulder and just close your eyes, feeling his chest plate move with each breath. It’s so still, the summer breeze softly runs through the tall grass. You can hear the waves gently hugging the beach, and the two of you just stand there like that. Completely alone, the only companionship being one another and a mindlessly-grazing horse. No one to interrupt. No doors to lock. No Princes to lie to. No thieves to fight. Just the two of you. If you could stay in that moment for the rest of your life, you would. In the earlier days of your relationship, you used to worry you wouldn’t like what his face looked like, worried that he might be unattractive to you. But every selfish desire you had about his physical appearance dissolved with the wind. No matter what he looked like, or what his past was, or what his name was, you didn’t care. You didn’t care because he cared for you, and you cared for him, too.

Before you can soak in the moment any longer, you’re swiftly grabbing his wrist, and tugging him towards the beach. The stillness of the moment is lost, but you’re quickly giggling as he’s chasing you down the small slope to the beach. You pull your skirt up as far as you can so you don’t trip on it, and find yourself being unable to slow down before the hill meets the shore. The soil slowly becomes more and more sandy, and your feet are bolting against uneven land towards teal, clear water. Before you can reach the ocean, however, strong hands are wrapping around your waist, pulling you flush against the Knight’s chest. You can hear the low rumble of chuckling in his throat, and you have the biggest, dorkiest smile of all time on your face. He spins the two of you around a few times before setting you back down on the beach.

You’re out of breath from running, and your hair is already untidy from the unexpected change of direction. The wind blows it just softly, letting it pull away from your face and neck. He tucks one rogue strand behind your ear, and then cups your face. You hadn’t even realized he’s been gloveless this entire time. You close your eyes and rest your cheek into him. You turn your head ever-so-slightly to kiss his palm, laying a sweet and innocent peck to his calloused skin.

You wonder if he’s hot with all that armor on. If you were too warm with a dress, only he knows what it’s like to have to spend summers so formally.

He’s the one to pull away, walking towards the water. You follow him, and the two of you stand against the tide. You kick your shoes off and pull your dress up again. Stepping into the water. You giggle at the tickle of the sand and smile at the feeling of the warm water against your ankles. He watches you fondly with his arms crossed. The water in Corellia is never this warm, and you throw your head back in bliss, breathing in the salty air. This was the happiest you had ever been since you arrived in Mandalore. The break from all the rules and customs was very needed, and you soaked in the sound of the waves, a distant call of a gull, and the wind keeping your hair out of your face. The best part was the fact that you were experiencing it with the Knight. There is no other person you would rather spend this memory with. You bite your lip and close your eyes and you never want to leave, you want to stay here forever. You hear the sound of metal clinking behind you, and something heavy hitting the sand. You turn to look at the Knight, who had discarded most of his armor. His boots have been carefully set next to one another, and beside them were his pauldrons, wrist guards, thigh plates and breastplate. The chainmail was the next thing to be removed, leaving him in only the dark-brown underclothes. His trousers were heavy duty, covered in various pockets and made out of thick material, but his tunic was a thin material, still long sleeved, but flowy, allowing the fresh, summer breeze to run through the fabric. The two items of clothing were held together by a pair of black suspenders, and the entire ensemble made him oh so… human.

You had only seen him with all his armor on before, and witnessing his shell being removed was both humbling and inspiring. The armor added quite a bit of bulk to his stature, it rounded out his shoulders, boosted his posture, and broadened him out. That was the first thing you noticed about him on the first day you arrived, he was ample in size and it made you feel so primal and safe. Despite his smaller stature without the armor, he wasn’t one bit less attractive to you. He was still the same guy who you were slowly falling for and didn’t even know it. But as he cuffed up his trousers and rolled back his shoulders, you felt so comfortable in his presence. He wasn’t just a mass of armor and creeds and rules, no, he was just a man. He was a single father, a guy who doesn’t know the first thing about dancing, and a boy born across the world in the Nevarro frontier. He was just a man.

You couldn’t stop the warm feeling in your chest that came with this thought. Everything about him was far more simple than you initially thought.

He walked towards you, and you held out your hand for him to take. He laces his fingers with yours as he steps into the shallow water with you. Your dress drops, dipping into the water and getting wet but you can’t even be mad about it. Your smile is big as his hand tightly grasped yours, the two of you looking out at the horizon.

“When I was a boy-” he begins, his voice quiet, “I wanted to live on the sea. Join a ship crew and travel the waters. There was always something so adventurous about that thought.” He shares. You turn to look at him as he speaks, studying the contour of the helmet with your eyes.

“What stopped you?” You ask, not entirely sure if he would share, but this time he was the one to start the conversation, and you felt like he might this time.

He sighs, you see it, he turns to look at you, the two of you staring at one another as the temperature slowly dropped with the sun on the horizon. “I was orphaned when I was only five.” He shrugs, your heart breaks. “It was one of the Mandalorian wars that caused it.”

You can’t imagine what it’s like having to serve a kingdom so intimately when they were responsible for the death of your family. You give his hand a reassuring squeeze, letting him know that you’re here for him. “I’m sorry.” You whisper.

“It’s not your fault, it was so long ago I don’t really remember it.” He looks down at the water.

“Thank you, for sharing that with me.” You smile apologetically. You really did appreciate that he felt comfortable enough to share something so serious with you. While you were grateful that he had begun to open up to you, it still didn’t answer any of the questions about Mandalore’s past, and what Koska was referring to a few days ago. It didn’t tell you what his past job was and why he’s serving the royal family now. However, you supposed it didn’t really matter, not right now, not today.

After a little minute of listening to the waves, he reaches down into the water, picking up a flat, thin rock. He runs his pointer finger along the edge, outlining the shape before hatching it into the space between his index finger and thumb, reeling back, and flicking it out so it hopped over the water’s surface seven or eight times before falling in. You looked at him enchanted, like he had just expressed a magic trick to a bright-eyed child.

“How did you do that?” You ask in awe.

“You’ve never seen anyone skip a rock?” He asks. You slowly shake your head. You’ve been cooped up inside a wintry castle your entire life, of course you haven’t.

“Teach me.” You say a little too forcefully. He chuckles and looks down at the sand, looking for a pebble that might work. He bends down eventually, and picks out a similar looking rock to the original.

“So, you want a rock that’s thin and flat, like this one.” He shows you the sediment. You reach your hand out, taking it and outlining the edge of the stone with your finger similar to how he did. He walks behind you, sloshing in the water but eventually gaining position. He wraps his left arm around your waist, and cups your right hand which holds the rock in his. “Now, don’t throw it quite yet, okay?”

“Alright.”

“You’re gonna flick your wrist like this,” he motions both of your hands at the same time, pulling back and then shooting forward quickly. He does it two or three times before speaking up again. “You’ll use your pointer finger to pull back like the trigger on a crossbow, it will give the rock enough spin that it stays on top of the water.” He makes you do the motion along with him a few times again. “Your shoulders will draw back almost like you’re pulling back an arrow on a bow.” Again, he does the motion with you, your back flush to his chest. You admired that he was able to relate everything to weaponry. He definitely knew his way around combat, that was apparent to you. “Then, you add all three motions together, aim for the horizon, and-“ he pulls back with you and before you know it, the rock is spiraling out of your hand and onto the surface of the ocean. It doesn’t skip, though, and instead plops right into the water.

You frown and look back at him. “What did I do wrong?” You ask, you knew he would know what needed to change.

“You didn’t flick your finger enough. Try again.” He pulls another stone out with a grunt, and holds you against his body to pull back and send another rock out. This one skips once before plopping into the water again. You sigh out, frustrated. “Here, try without me.” He says after handing you a third flat stone. You carefully practice the motion once, desperately wanting to impress him. You then pull back and give it everything you got, only for the stone to plop in without skipping at all again.

“Ugh, lemme try again.” You say angrily. You can hear him laughing at you, but you ignore it, ready to try again and determined to get it right this time.

You must have thrown four more rocks after that with no results. Each time he tried giving you just a little more advice about different things, “Follow through” or “You had too much spin that time”. You were starting to get really frustrated, having never had to really work for anything in your life before, and you knew he was starting to have a hard time finding flat rocks. You would not give up on this.

“Maybe we can try again next time-“

“No.” You say forcefully, “We do not leave this beach until I skip a damn rock, so if you want to be back in time for your evaluation with Vizsla, I suggest you find me another rock.” You raise an eyebrow as you pull out your diplomatic royal voice. He holds his hands back in defense and then tosses you the stone he already had waiting for you. You sigh when you catch it, taking a deep breath and remembering all your training. Don’t spin too much, follow through, add all three motions together, have faith.

You pull back the stone, praying that it will all go according to plan because you aren’t sure how much longer you can take failure. You pick out your target with your eyes before adding together all the advice given to you and sending it. You can hardly believe your eyes when you see it skip at least five times over the water. You cheer out in accomplishment and look over at the Knight, smiling big and triumphant. He runs through the water to you, shouting with you.

“I knew you could do it!” He grabs your waist, congratulating you. You giggle out of achievement. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” He asks.

You roll your eyes and playfully punch his arm (which luckily this time was not covered by pain-inflicting chainmail). “A lot easier than having to dodge your hits.” You admit.

“I’m proud of you.”

“It’s just a rock skip?” You wonder why he would be proud of you for that and ask yourself if you really are that pathetic.

“Yes but you put your mind to it and did it! I know some guys in the royal guard who would have given up on their third try, but you didn’t!”

“I was just trying to impress you.” You sheepishly chuckle.

“We’ll consider myself: Impressed.” He laughs and you blush.

“They don’t teach royals that.”

“Well of course not, I learned how to do that from the guy who took me in after my parents died. You picked it up much faster than I did.” He nods and you smile again.

The two of you catch your breath from the exuberant laughing, but you aren’t able to enjoy the still moment because all too quick it all comes crashing down quickly when he’s pushing you into the water. It isn’t very deep, but the unexpected soak makes you yelp out in surprise. Your initial reaction is to be frustrated, but you can hear him chuckling by your side and you can’t help but mischievously smiling in response. He’s standing, still dry with a hand over his stomach as he laughs at you. You roll your eyes before reaching up to pull him in with you, he yelps out stupefied as he’s splashing down into the tide next to you. You laugh out at him, sitting up in the water which is about waist deep. He wipes some water away from his visor and then splashes you, swatting a handful of the ocean at your face. Your laughing immediately halts from a mouthful of salt water. Your slight makeup washes off, and your hair is starting to get wet, too. You look over at him with a frown before copying his action and spraying him right back. He laughs at you, and you remember that you can’t win this. He has a helmet to keep his eyes clear from the water. You groan out of frustration, and wipe your eyes dry. He’s just looking at you, panting. His clothes were soaked now. You crawl to be closer to him in the water, which thank goodness it wasn’t too cold because you’d be rushing to get out, but the summer weather made it enjoyable to just sit there together.

[SMUT BEGINS HERE]

You’re next to him, running your fingers lightly up and down his right arm, looking at him fondly. He catches his breath, and brings his wet hand up to cup your face again. You close your eyes, hoping he takes the hint, which he does because a few seconds have your eyes are closed, his arm his pulling away from your touch against it and his lips are pressing into yours. You can tell he completely took the helmet off this time, which means he would take his time kissing you instead of a quick peck to shut you up.

The two of you sit in the water of the Mandalorian Ocean, both of his hands reaching up to hold you as he kisses each eyelid as if to say “keep ‘em closed”, before moving to your lips passionately. His left hand holding your cheek while his right hand finds its place on the back of your neck, pulling you into him. You breathe deeply as he practically devours you, his lips moving hungrily. Your hands find their way to his thighs in the water, running your palms up and down the strong muscle, making sure to take notice of the healing wound on his upper-thigh. Your hands eventually find their way to the waistband of his pants, running your fingers under them to pull out the tuck of the tunic. Fingernails come out of the water and up soft abs that flinch at the stroke. It’s hard to work around the suspenders, but you’re able to still run your hands over his torso, getting to know his body for the first and hopefully not the last) time. He has a few scars, you can feel the fresh tissue under your fingers and wonder what caused them. He’s still kissing you, his left hand moves down to hold your jaw and you keep your eyes tightly shut out of fear of this ending too quickly. The kissing noises are obscene, wet and needy amongst the sound of the waves. The Knight licks into your mouth, his tongue hot and forceful as it explores your mouth, you can taste the lust on his lips, and you happily welcome the sensation.

His right hand works around the way your gown has flared out in the water and eventually wraps itself around your ass, pulling you up onto his lap. You’re mostly out of the water now, just your shins being completely submerged. You’re slightly weighed down by the added weight of a wet skirt, but you sit comfortably on the guards lap, your hands coming up to wrap around his neck, kissing him from above now. The kiss is forced down, and this time you’re able to lick into his mouth, nibbling his lip and deepening the kiss further from the angle. You can’t help your hands from cupping his face now, pulling him into you.

Your noses rub into one another, and both of his arms lift you up from behind. Your back arches into him, and your breathing hitches, getting heavier and hotter. He starts to get hard, you feel it under your body, and a mixture of the kissing and the pressure beginning to press into your cunt is really starting to turn you on. You start to just softly grind against him, moaning a little bit at the feeling of his growing cock against your heat. His hands help you, making the humping motion more smooth and natural. The kissing becomes sloppy now, and the water from the wet bodice is making your nipples just that much harder.

Your hands are reaching down to slide the suspenders off his shoulders, and then you’re pulling his shirt up and unhooking the trousers. Your hand is reaching in and finding the base of his hardening, thick length. He groans at your touch, and you’re bending down to kiss his neck, sucking deep, purple hickeys into his golden skin. You’re needy, still grinding against him and trying not let the water slow you down. He’s sighing breathy moans and grunts in your ear as you start jerking him off. The water does make it hard, but there’s something about the added sensation of the flowing water that really made it unique. You swipe your thumb over the head a few times, getting drunk with the unexpected control you have. This was the first time the two of you have fooled around that you really got to have total dominance. You liked it… you really liked.

He did too.

Your clit is able to rut so slightly and deliciously into your fist and his cock, and you’re having a hard time not letting your eyes open and flutter in pleasure. The same shocks of ecstasy ran up and down your spine, and he held you closer to his body, using his strong hands to cup your ass and knead the soft skin. You’re panting, your free hand reaches down to rub your clit, both of your hands working in between your legs as you straddle the Knight. You’re going to cum already and can’t believe it’s happening so fast but choose not to hold it back. You’re moaning out loud when you cum against your fingers, graining against his lap fast and squeezing his cock a little harder.

“Fuck, did you just cum?” He asks deep in his voice, growling in your ear. You hum out in response against his neck pathetically, and all dominance you previously possessed dissolves as you keep jerking off your Knight. “Dirty girl, kiss me. Keep those pretty eyes closed.” His throat is dry, which you remember from last time that that means he’s close, too. You reach up to kiss him again, going in tongue first and breathing in his scent deeply. One of his hands reaches around to cup yours that is working his length, holding it and adding pressure and then making you go faster, you happily oblige and soon the pace is quick and he’s grunting against your lips. He cums in your hand, you feel the heat of it. He’s panting and sighing and it’s all so hot you think you could get turned on by it again.

He rests his head on your shoulder after cumming, catching his breath. You take your hand out of the water and you tangle your fingers through his hair, toying with the curls as he sighs against your wet skin. You open your eyes now, looking out at the horizon, lashes heavy with lust.

[SMUT ENDS HERE]

“Gross.” You chuckle.

“You liked it.” He hums against your collar bone. His hands are steadfast on your lower back, holding you there against his chest. He doesn’t have the cold breastplate separating the two of you, so your hearts were pressed against one another, beating in perfect synch. You could also finally feel how warm his body was, despite the wet clothes and gentle waves. In your peripheral, you can see some of the brown curls.

Your heart warms, this might be the happiest you have ever been. The two of you must have sat like that for a long time because your skin was starting to prune and your hair was slowly drying with the wind. His breathing had completely calmed, and he was so still and quiet that just for a moment you wondered if he had fallen asleep. The sun was almost down completely, only a little sliver of it peaking over the water. You watched it as it fell to its resting place in the ocean, the sky still blazing oranges and yellows but cooling with a soft, pale blue from the top down. It was so… serene, so peaceful. Nothing like the crashing waves of Corellia. This was the best part of Mandalore yet. It’s saving grace.

The crescent moon is on the horizon when he’s turning to kiss your ear one more time and asking you to close your eyes as he pulls the helmet back on.

“We should probably get back, I don’t want to be late for Vizsla and I’m afraid I’ve started to lose track of time.” He stands up and holds his hand out for you to take. You attempt to hoist yourself up out of the water, but the wet dress has added so much weight that you can’t lift your legs up. You grunt in effort, but there’s no budging. “Huh, looks like we need to take that thing off.”

“Again?” You look up at him, you knew he had a smug smirk under all that beskar. You reach behind you to undo the corset just enough for you to step out of it, water dripping from your undergarment as he yanks you up and out of the warm water. “I’m starting to think you just really like seeing me naked.” You mutter and don’t realize how close you were to him while saying that until after. You catch your tongue, holding your breath as he looks down at you.

“Yeah, something like that.” He mumbles in response and you believe you could faint and die right then and there. He doesn’t let the moment stew for nearly as long as you would have liked for it, however and he’s pulling the sopping wet dress out of the water and carrying it back on shore. He hands it to you when he gets to his armor, and you try ringing some of the liquid out from the fabric but it’s almost too heavy for you to even hold in your arms. He re-assembles his gear on top of the wet clothes and you know that can’t be comfortable. Sand clings to your bare, wet feet, and you're desperately trying to brush some of it off before slipping your shoes back on. He’s resituated too fast, he has dressing his armor down to a perfection and you’re sad to see your beach adventure come to a close so quickly.

Before you know it, he’s walking up the hill again with you by his side, making your ways to Clove who has been diligently and patiently chewing on the grass in the field this entire time.

“Ride with me.” You ask as he helps you onto the palomino. “Please.” You ask. “We’ll get to the palace faster and then maybe you can get out of those wet clothes before you have to go to the meeting.” You ask. He sighs but then nods with a shrug, hoisting himself onto the horse behind you. You were riding normally now, and situated yourself comfortably into his chest. The wet gown lay on the back of the horse and you wished you had thought about removing that before getting into the water.

As the two of you start a gentle gallop to the palace, you feel your hair get drier. At one moment he reaches his hand up to run bare fingers over your healing bicep.

“We should have kept this out of the water.” He says in your ear. You twist your head back to reply.

“It’s okay, really. It’s starting to feel a lot better.” You reassure.

“It looks better, but the salt water can only do bad things to it.” He explains. You shrug, unsure of how he expects you to respond.

The three of you arrive at the castle just as the sky begins to darken, both of you still damp from the ocean but your hearts still full and bodies still riding the orgasm high. The Knight helps you off the horse, and now that you aren’t alone, you feel very aware that you’re only in your undergarments and really anyone could see you. You pull the wet gown off the rump of Clove, which was so saturated that it made his fur wet. You hold it against your body, trying to cover yourself up as much as possible. The Knight removes the saddle of the horse, storing it away and removing the bit. He stretches the beast’s ears and then walks over to the far side of the stable to grab a carrot out of a bucket before handing it to Clove as a reward for his hard work. You watch him as he expertly takes care of the animal, like he’s done it a thousand times before.

Then, with no warning, the two of you hear the shrill voice of none other than Koska Reeves.

“I shouldn’t have let you go.” She’s crossing over the dirt courtyard to the stables. Her hair has been done now, put up into the customary braids they usually are in. She was now wearing the royal blue color reserved for the Queen’s court, a golden sash sitting on her hips. She held the dress above her feet and she hustled in your direction. You felt scared, you knew Koska meant business, and was not afraid to scold. She was intimidating, to say the least. “You’re soaking wet.” She gasps when she gets to the stable fence. “Come with me, Princess. We must get you changed before anyone sees you or the Queen will have my head.” She sighs, opening the gate for you to walk through. “As for you, Vizsla’s here early.”

“What.” You heard the drop in his voice from panic. “Why?”

“No one knew, he just arrived before we could do any regular welcoming. The evaluation is starting in ten minutes, I suggest you move your ass.” She shakes her head. You were incredibly thankful you had both rode Clove now. He wouldn’t have made it back in time if you hadn’t. You did feel a twinge of guilt, however. You shouldn’t have pushed for that so much and risked him missing his mandatory meeting. But an overwhelming part of you was more than happy that you got to experience those few hours alone with him. He swears under his breath before bowing to you, shrugging apologetically and then full sprinting towards the servant quarter’s entrance. “I would take that from you,” Koska says in reference to the wet dress, “But I’m already in my ceremonial dress. I can’t get it wet. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. I can manage.” You nod. The two of you begin to walk back inside, and the night time breeze runs over your wet body, making you shudder ever-so-slightly. When you get back inside, the Knight is nowhere to be seen, and there’s only a fraction of the people as there were earlier. The masks had all been moved somewhere, which let you know they finished them. A mother sat on a chair by the fireplace, nursing a small baby and three young boys who couldn’t be any older than seventeen all sat around one table playing some type of card game and eating buttered bread. They were the stable boys. The three of them stared at you when you walked in, in awe of your unparalleled beauty and the fact that you were carrying a massive, heavy, wet dress.

Koska led you down a hall adjacent to the fireplace. You could see into a few sleeping quarters. The little ones were dozing off, and in one room was a couple laughing together. The small community that existed underneath the palace was something you deeply admired. You wouldn’t have had any idea any of this was here if you hadn’t pushed for today’s events, and you truly loved it. You loved how all these people found refuge and a home here.

You wished you could, too.

Koska stops at one door, taking the wet dress out of your hands and tossing it into the room before closing the wooden door shut and progressing back down the hallway. She eventually opens up a door to a small room with a single bed and large chest.

“Is this your room?” You ask, looking around and familiarizing yourself with it. A single embroidery hoop with a half-done pattern sat on the bed, on the windowsill was a melting candle whose wax had dried in a cascading pattern on the ancient stone, and at the foot of the bed was a small table with a wash basin and hairpins.

“No, It’s my sister’s. My room is closer to the Queen’s.” She nods. You had no clue Koska had a sister. She opens up the chest and pulls out a dry under-slip and simple but pretty purple dress. It wasn’t a ballgown and had long, bell sleeves in a similar fashion to Koska’s. There was some moon and star embroidery on the bodice.

“I didn’t know you had a sister.” You said, starting to shiver a little now.

“Her name is Alva, she works in the kitchen.” She nods as she crosses over to the table, opening up a little box to pull out a horse-hair comb.

“Will she mind us using her things?”

“Well, you’re the Princess, so I hope not.” She shrugs and crosses over the room again like a madwoman, pulling a wool blanket from the chest. “Here, strip and dry off.” You look at her, confused. “Alright… I’ll turn around then.” Koska rolls her eyes and turns to face the wall. You peel off the wet slip, and use the wool material to wipe your body dry. It wasn’t nearly as soft and luxurious as the cotton robes you have five floors up, but it will do for now. You have sand everywhere, and you mean everywhere. You brush it off as best you can, hoping it doesn’t make too much of a mess for anyone to have to clean. You then pull on the dry clothes, and clear your throat when you’re done and decent.

Koska turns around and smiles. “Sit, I’ll brush your hair for you and then escort you back upstairs to see your parents.”

You had completely forgotten that they would be arriving tonight. You get a twinge of adrenaline. You’ve been so homesick, and it will be nice to see some familiar faces after such an emotional two weeks. You sit at the stool in front of the table, and Koska carefully combs out your knotted but drying hair.

“So… It looks like you two had fun.” She says. You smile and blush.

“Yes, we did.” You chuckle.

“That’s good, it’s been so long since he’s had fun. He deserves it.” She hums in response and you immediately question how they know one another so well again.

“How do you know each other?” You ask, knowing there's no harm in that.

Koska sighs, “We… used to work together in a sense. He’s a good man, an even better father.” She shrugs. So that’s four people you can think of who know about his son, You, Koska, Peli and the woman from Isla’s bar… although that situation seemed different, magical almost.

“You two never…” You trail off, not really wanting to hear the answer but not stopping yourself before you ask it anyways.

Koska laughs out loud this time, stopping the combing motion, “Oh stars, no. Never. I have someone else… and he has you.”

Your heart warms at that phrase. “Who is this ‘someone else’ you speak of?” You ask, enjoying the casual girl talk the two of you are sharing.

She hums again, “You’ve met her, she’s shorter than me and far more serious, she has a fire burning, but she’s special to me.” You can hear the smile in Koska’s tone.

You wonder who she’s talking about.

—

Taglist: @remmysbounty @snow30285 @what-iwish-you-knew @carbonated-beverage @frogllady @baileys-corner @song-of-sea-and-sky @leaiorganas @weirdowithnobeardo @ginger-swag-rapunzel @bewitchedbodyandsol @mograh @justavolcano @theokatz @lowkeytesss @hallway5 @dat-girl-in-corner @news4bees @istealyof00d @songofcosplay @waffles4lif3 @mcueveryday @310ra @thatonedindjarinfan @songofseraphine @callmekane @theelilbritt @bbwithaknife @firstofficerwiggles @jedi-jesi @ironbabey @minttchipp @bel-ppa @honey-hi @cp11 @venomous-ko @bbwithaknife @lunatic-sunsets @1800-fight-me @foundtheavacados @elphabaforpresidentofgallifrey @florenceivy @theanothersherlockian @spideysimpossiblegirl

“If you are included in the taglist, you are expected to interacted with the post you are tagged in (ex. Reblogs, comments and notes), if I notice that you are not interacting with the applicable post, you will be removed from the taglist”

—

[yoditorian]

(kiss me) you will go

din/reader

this is an idea that i’ve wanted to try out for a little while, and this piece by @charnelhouse kind of made the decision for me. thank you for the inspiration 💛

main masterlist

word count: 1.8k // warnings: swears, major character death, blood, grief.

Din can barely see for the sweat stinging his eyes. 

Pressed between a pile of crates, left miraculously unscathed, and the crumbled remains of a stone wall, he pauses a moment to take stock. To take a breath.

He lost you, Paz, Orla, everyone almost the moment he stepped into daylight. Scattered by a thermal detonator none of them had noticed until it was too late, he’d been sent careening into a rock face and his comms went dead on impact. With any luck, you’ll be with the others. Somebody. There’s no glaring injuries, nothing from the explosion or the panicked shootout in the middle of the dust cloud that followed, he’s in one piece at least. Although his blasters are a different story, both of them already at half capacity. He inhales sharply, gearing up to make a break for the main entrance to the covert, when a familiar purple helmet pops up in his visor. That’s one.

“Get up or die here, Djarin. Your choice.” She snaps, and he’s following her before he can even blink. They use the collapsed buildings as cover, ducking and weaving and rationing the remaining charge in their blasters. It feels a little like it used to, training sessions as children back when war was a game. He knows better now, he thinks as a thermal charge detonates a little too close for comfort, war smells like shit and tastes like metal.

“What happened to the others?” He asks in a moment of reprieve.

Orla busies herself with her blasters, unsheathing the knives strapped to her hips, avoiding his eye as the anxiety rolls off of her in waves.

“I don’t know.” 

They take down another few bandits on their tail, ducking into the entrance to the tunnels just as their cartridges click. Together, they heave the heavy wood of the door closed. It’ll buy ten minutes, just enough time to sprint through to the hangar. Din silently prays that the ships will be gone and the rest of the covert is already safely far away, or that they’re hanging on just a little longer for the stragglers. He’s not sure which option he prefers. 

Their hurried footsteps echo through the empty tunnels as fear starts to seep into his veins. He keeps his eyes forward, focused on the one blue pauldron at Orla’s left shoulder. And they push on deeper into the covert. Relief floods Din’s very bones when the dirt tunnel opens up to the cavern they use as a hangar. Ade and the elders are being guided onto the ships, people are packing supplies and organising rendezvous points. At first glance, nobody seems to be missing.

But there’s something heavy in the way everyone’s visors seem to fall on him, how the cavern is silent beyond the quiet hum of the last generator. Paz stands, the almost royal blue rising a head above the sea of helmets, and Din’s gaze falls to the ground at his feet. A bloodstained grey blanket wrapped hastily around a soldier, and a familiar pair of boots sticking out at the end. Motionless.

Oh.

Oh no.

Orla’s voice comes quietly, though it might be the loudest thing Din has ever heard. 

“Was anyone-”

“I was,” Paz says lowly, “Saved my shebs, and half the ade. We wouldn’t have made it here without them.”

There isn’t time to grieve. There isn’t time to build you the funeral pyre you deserve and exchange stories of your life long into the night. Time. It’s a funny thing. All the years he’s known you, loved you in secret, loved you without fear, and you never seemed to have enough time. The promise you made him swear to, barely an hour ago, echoes in his ears.

“Marry me when this is over.”

He’d wanted to do it then, no one but his sister and her husband to witness, as you crept out of a side tunnel to flank a troop of bandits. But you’d laughed, asked if he planned on dying at the hands of a few beskar hungry criminals and made him promise. When you both lived. So much for promises. 

He doesn’t even know he’s moving until he’s right there.

“Vod.” 

But Din is already shouldering past Paz and crashing to his knees beside the blanketed body on the sand. He’s too afraid to lift the shroud, but he already knows. 

Shaking hands begin to pull back the heavy wool, it takes him a moment to realise they’re his own. And there you are. Stiff and cold, a gaping wound in your side that makes bile rise in the back of his throat. Even the blank expanse of the visor can’t hide that you’re gone, marching with generations past. Just a body and a broken promise left behind. And him. 

There’s a noise, static and choking that makes him jump out of his skin, and - it’s him. Tears blur his vision, wet his cheeks, leak into his mouth and soak his cowl. They taste like sweat and smoke and he realises you’ll never get to kiss them away. You’ll never wake him from nightmares on late night guard shifts again, never slap his arm when he makes a bad joke, never chastise him for leaving his weapons where the ade could reach. 

Someone moves behind him. Slowly, deliberately, and others begin to move forward. 

Din watches as the closest members of the covert crowd your body, facing out. Their arms lock together in a clanking symphony of beskar and solidarity. United. For him, for you. A fresh wave of tears shakes his shoulders. A second wall of defenders forms around the first, blocking all light but that overhead. Blocking all prying eyes from Din as he grieves his love, grieves you.

A foot knocks into his knee and he looks up. Orla nods once over her shoulder, and turns to face forward. You’d want this, you’d want him to keep his promise. And so he does.

His gloves come off first, fingers trembling as they move to your own, and he tries not to flinch at first contact with your skin. You’re cold, somehow colder than he’d expected. But your hands are soft in his, and he smiles despite himself. He’s always imagined you’d have soft hands. 

It’s with a shuddering breath and another glance up at the protective barrier of his covert, his family, that Din finally lifts the helmet from his head. 

The air is thick and humid, dust sticking to the inside of his lungs. He places his helmet gently down beside him.

“Mhi-” He clears his throat, though his voice stays low, “Mhi solus tome, mhi solus dar'tome, mhi me'dinui an, mhi- mhi ba'juri verde.”

And, just like that, Din Djarin swears himself to you forever. The way he promised.

His fingers hover over the lip of your own helmet as he remembers you telling him the colour of your eyes, whispered over firelight in the middle of the night as though it was some scandalous secret, and his heart seizes at the realisation that he won’t get to see them light up. Swallowing, he pulls it from your body.

And he wants to be sick. 

There’s no pain or anguish, no glint in your eyes as they stare listlessly at the ceiling. There’s nothing at all. Just a blank face and a trail of blood from the corner of your mouth, disappearing into your cowl. He closes your eyes. 

He knew you’d be beautiful, the cruelty of that truth isn’t lost on him. 

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum.” He’s leaning over you before he really knows it, mumbling the confession against your skin with a soft kiss pressed to the centre of your forehead. And it’s done. 

Din slowly, carefully, removes every last piece of beskar from your body. A twisted version of the way he hopes you might have let him, one day. And wraps the bloody blanket more securely around your body. He makes sure to cover your face.

The group around him disbands the moment his helmet slots back into place, and he rises to his feet. Others have been working in the meantime, supplies have been loaded, the vulnerable are secure. It’s time to go. It should be time to go. 

Din bends to one knee and gently sets light to a bottom corner of the blanket. It’s no pyre, you deserve one built high as the clouds, but it’ll have to do. The door at the entrance gives away; a great, splintering, cracking sound that seems to shake the very ground under his feet.

“Vod. Let’s go.” Orla urges, in the same voice their buir used to use when they were being stubborn. But Din just watches as the flames start to lick further up your shrouded body. 

You weren’t alone. You were with family. But you were without him. 

And something snaps.

Something so deep in his bones, in his soul, shuts off. 

He draws the vibroblade from his boot and turns to his sister.

“Go.”

“Din!”

“Go! Protect them!” 

Orla takes a step towards him, a vain attempt to tug him towards the ship, but Paz catches her elbow. He draws a blaster from his belt and hands it to Din. Fully charged. They share a nod, a lifetime of rivalry and friendship between them, and Paz steps back. He has to manhandle Orla towards the ship as she shouts for her brother, but even she knows that this is how it has to be. This is how they get away. They take off as soon as the bay doors close, the rumble of the engines echoing and fading as they maneuver through the cavern and into open air.

And Din waits. 

Framed in the open exit, with a weapon in each hand and your burning body behind him, he looks every part the warriors of legend as the first bandits appear round the corner.

They don’t stand a chance, he’s shooting at anything that moves, stabbing and slashing until the dust at his feet is soaked with blood and organs and the fury of a man left alone in the universe. They took your life, there aren’t enough of them to compensate. Bodies drop. Littering the cavern until your smoking remains are nothing but ash. Din turns toward the exit, following the path of the ship, without a backward glance. And that little window to his soul that you worked so tirelessly to open, shrinks into oblivion.

He leaves two injured, but alive in the midst of the smoke and the rubble. 

They end up on opposite sides of the galaxy, far from the massacre, each telling the same tale. It evolves as the years churn on, but the foundation remains the same. Blood splattered across beskar, the smell of blaster fire and dull hum of a vibroblade, a single Mandalorian cutting down anyone who dared come close enough. 

Legend, indeed.

TAGLIST (add yourself here):

@bee-dameron @keeper0fthestars @thevoiceinyourheadx @firstofficerwiggles @1800-fight-me @ew-erin @chatterbean @darnitdraco @greeneyedblondie44 @captain-jebi @sarahjkl82-blog​ @thisshipwillsail316​ @amneris21​

[v-mundi]

Angels! Royal Domain needed some art fixes to feathery, heavenly powers. Since RD contained Holyangemon and Angewomon, we took the opportunity to make the existing ones look a lot better.

Holyangemon - I heavily edited this Battle Mode model to have reflections, partial visor/shield transparency, galactic sparkle sword excalibur, metallic boots, and shiny wings! It was a lot of work but it paid off in the end. After the RD version was posed, we made a more neutral one for the old version’s art fix.

Angewomon - For this, we wanted elegance but not so ·派手, not so garish, reflective, shiny, and flashy as Holyangemon. Angewomon has a matte finish with superdense stylized outlines. We found the hard shader not to be as useful here, since she’s a very complex shape overall. It was hiding tiny pieces of wing or fingers everywhere. Unlike the much more aggressive and battle-hardened RD version, this Base Set Angewomon is floating gracefully.

Valdurmon - The biggest birdie was pretty ugly before, since it was really just a pre-rendered JPG I had to cut out from the DMO wiki. Ugh. Now that I have a real model from a more updated game (Cyber Sleuth), we have a real Valdurmon art! We added an octagonal rainbow ring to symbolize the 8-way paths and the full-circle rainbow of Valdur. Funfact, we got the word for Ruler-type from the word Valdur here. We made a shiny material that’s part rainbow, part aqua colors for the wings. This was also used in RD on an evolution card.

[jangosweat]

Surprise (Part One)

Pairing: younger Boba Fett x female reader Summary: Boba is on a mission, you happen to have more than just some information for him. Length: don't @ me ok this got away from me pretty quickly, the gc chose violence the other day and my brain ran the fuck away with it so... LONG. Warnings: NSFW, Boba smokes in this ok (smoking is bad ofc), strong language, explicit content, alcohol consumption, virgin!Boba, eventual p in v Tagging these bucket fuckers: @batfamily14 @kavecika @aurea-corde @beskarprincessjenny @ahoeformando @onabouteverything @rosethornsxx @latenightsthoughtsnstuff @deewithani @hobbitlover23 @thisgirl-knm @adonishxney @vegethiagoddess @the-siren-writes-it @tibbietibbs @meabravo @kenob1 @theifofstars @metchachotto @blissful--moon @mysticalgalaxysalad

ENJOY!!!

It was a shame really, having flown out all this way with a strong signal until the night Boba Fett had landed his ship down on this bustling planet, after a month of hunting and beating the information out of humans and a few droids he needed for his latest quarry he had come up short.

He hated being let down, he was on a roll with capturing quarry after quarry, bringing them to their knees with a swift prowess only he seemed to encapsulate. His father's genes he would think thoughtfully as he laid in bed. The cuts and bruises would soon fade, adding to his track record as being one of the up and coming best bounty hunter in the parsec. He was making a name for himself, preening when he'd enter some dive bar or cantina, all eyes on him and rumor had it that if you saw his painted beskar, someone was in big kriffing trouble.

A pompous man only known to the hunter by the name of Tarrik was all he knew and that the client he was hired by wanted his payment. Now.

Boba tapped on his holopad, filling in his planner of sorts, archiving his triumphs as he sat wide legged at the edge of his bed aboard Slave I. He bit his lip, opening a new tab on the blueish screen, setting his sights on a map of the city. He used his fingers to expand the map, reaching absently at the table next to him to retrieve a lit cigarette of sorts. The shredded tobacco type substance was sweet and fragrant, coils of smoking spiraled around his fingers before he took a drag and kept on with his search.

He was on the right planet, nearby to where this theif was either hiding deftly among the people and aliens just outside from the landing areas restricted section or he was one step ahead of Fett and that thought alone made his eyebrows crease together. That was his job, to be on the Frontline, to outsmart his naïve prey. He sighed and kept the map page open, looking from a top view of what looked to be a little shopping center, a jewelry store with the name Tarrik's Trinkets lit up neon on the screen.

....

"Did you take inventory yet?"

"I'm on it right now!" You called back to one of your coworkers, she was on her way out to lunch, leaving you in charge of the jewelry store for the next hour. Your boss Tarrik had left a rather cryptic note of explanation that he had a family emergency and you and Juni were to be in charge of keeping to store up and running for the next few days.

She shrugged on a jacket, careful not to snag the flow of her long head-tails before leaving, telling you she'd bring you back something sweet.

The low chime of the store from the door opened and closed as you grabbed the holopad and set to work.

Only a few moments passed when you heard the chimes again, crouched underneath a display case you sing songed out. "Back so soon?"

You were met with silence.

That's odd you thought, you know you heard the door open...

"Juni?"

More silence.

When you finally stood to your full height you didn't see a soul in the store, you set the holopad down on the glass counter and rounded about the side. "Hello?"

"Good afternoon."

You jumped at the voice that answered you, that was definitely not Juni. You turned around to find a tall man, covered literally head to toe in some sort of hard armor and gloves, not a lick of his skin was presented to you, a T visor looked down at you. 

Stealthy son of a bitch you thought as you relaxed a little.

"Oh! Good afternoon sir." You smoothed your hands at your sides, curious as to who he might be. You've seen and met quite a few strangers, of all sorts but none as mysterious as the man before you. He tilted his helmet in acknowledgement and rested his gloved hands at his waist, fingers displaying on a utility belt.

"Nice place you've got here." His voice was covered with a thick modulator, you could hear the nice smooth tone of it even through the slight crackles.

"Thank you, we pride ourselves on serving the best and making the best. Even the gentry have been known to visit from time time, by their aides and associates of course. Is there something in particular you're looking for sir?" You asked.

The helmeted man looked around the empty store then back to you after a moment. "Is the owner perhaps around?"

"Not today. But I can be of any assistance you might need."

The man hummed and tapped his belt, strong and quiet as he peered around again as if casing the joint and that set you on edge, tiny hairs on the back of your neck prickled and you moved back behind the display case you were just working on.

"Do you do customized pieces?" The man asked, turning on his heel to see where you had scurried off to.

"Of course we do! Do you have something in mind?"

The man pondered and leaned against the top of the case, a sweet smell wafted into your nose as he looked down at some of the pieces laid out on a fine Vermillion felt. "What might you suggest?"

"Is it for you or a someone special? A partner perhaps? A special occasion maybe..."

"I'm not a married man if that's what you're asking. Jewelry doesn't fit in with my armor. Someone special I suppose."

"Alrighty, how special are we talking?" You asked using one of your hands to showcase what you had at this case. "We have earrings, these are a popular buy or if want something more flashy we have bracelets and necklaces over there."

"A necklace will do I think."

"Excellent! Why don't you follow me over here then," you waved him over and he followed slowly after you, stopping to look at how nicely you had placed the varying lengths and sizes of adornments. "What kind would you like? Have you seen them in something familiar in style or coloring? A gemstone or two maybe..."

"What would you like?"

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. What would you like to receive as a gift?"

Oh.

No one had ever asked you for your personal opinion on the matter, not in that way at least. You had modeled a few items for your customers, if you were a similar size neck or wrist for the client but never had someone asked what you would prefer to wear.

No one had bought you jewelry before so the question had you stunned for a moment to think.

"Well... I don't like gaudy items, I'm more of a dainty subtle kinda' girl. If it were me, I'd go with a lariat style. It's just enough to catch someone's eye and when the sun hits it just it right, you know it's something special."

"Hmm can you show me? Might be interested in something like that." The man was sold you could tell, you were top in sales last month after all.

You smiled and bent down and brought out the style you were talking about, proudly showing off the necklace. "What do you think?"

The man hummed and touched the slinky necklace, as if he could feel the smoothness through those thick gloves. "Classy. You said I could add an gemstone no?"

"Absolutely sir, whatever modification you'd like we can do. It will cost extra of course." You explained and the man chuckled through his modulator.

"Of course. Money is of no expense to me smart girl. Three emeralds will do I think."

Emeralds? Three emeralds no less! This man had expensive taste and could afford it.

"Placement? They would like very royal spaced out like this," the man nodded once in agreement once you showed him your idea. "How about length?"

His T visor rose slowly from the necklace, taking his time to look at you as if you could see his face underneath. "Their about your size I suppose."

"For my neck I'd prefer a sixteen inch in length."

"Let's do it then."

That was easy, you smiled and made a quick sketch on a spare holopad nearby, a glimpse of what his custom piece would look like and cost. He agreed to the amount and gave his signature on the pad.

All it said was Mando when you took it back.

"As I'm sure you're aware sir, Emeralds can take some time to set, about a week or so, is that ok?"

"Absolutely." The man breathed and took out a strange looking square of steel, placing it in your hand before he took a step back and took his leave.

The chimes of the door sang again as he left, leaving you with his personal comm link number on the back of what looked like an imperial credit business card. But no name was present.

....

Boba thought of you while he took off his armor for the night, snagging a few bags of food from a very skittish man and woman at a food stall on his way back from the shopping market.

You had called him Sir, either out of sheer politeness or intimidation. Not that he was taught to call attention to himself or his armor or profession, like his father had instilled in him as a boy, but it alarmed him. Took him down a notch. He was just a man to you, clad in his father's beskar. He wasn't scary to you and that humbled him, where his name proceeded him nowadays, being unrecognizable was in a way a touch of honey to the battered man.

You didn't know his name like so many others had. Didn't cower in fear that he was possibly after you. No, he was after your boss. He didn't want to scare you, he was after one man not an army and certainly not a shopkeeper like yourself.

He had hoped you would call him the next day, give him details about the necklace that he bought on a whim with no real flesh and blood person to give it to. It was a means to an end, get in good with you, nonchalant and easy in order to find out the whereabouts of Tarrik.

It was only one meeting with you but as he sat in just his underclothes, untying the bag of steaming food, he couldn't help but feel a little off about using you. Strange as that may seem.

You didn't call the next day or the next after that, four days later he wondered if he should stop by the shop again just to see. Scope it out even though the puck he toyed with wasn't blinking.

He lit one of his cigarettes while he cleaned his armor, leaning his hip against one his many weaponry crates that made their home in the hull of his ship. He let it dangle from his lip before maneuvering it between his front teeth as he cleaned his helmet. The unsuspecting call from his comm link took him out of his routine, he popped the piece next to his chest plate into his ear.

"Hello?"

"Mando?" You sounded unsure of yourself, Boba narrowed his eyebrows as to why until he realized his helmet was in his hands, not placed on his head.

"Speaking. Everything going alright?" It never occurred to him that he had given you a name to call him but he didn't catch yours, too preoccupied with his song and dance of trying to sus out information and how you smiled at him. Not knowing the predator he truly was.

"Yeah yeah everything is fine with your piece it's just you forgot to put in your credit information. I was looking it over and-"

"When should I come in?" Boba stabbed out his cigarette.

"Oh uh whenever you're free would be great, were open until nine tonight if that works out for you?" You sounded excited and nervous which made him feel the same.

"I'll see you soon then."

You fumbled through some goodbye by the sound of it, Boba smiled and got dressed.

....

Tarrik's Trinkets seemed to be in a rush, there were people picking up some of their cleaned items and some were being helped, you were behind the register handing off a bag to a very excited young Twi’lek couple, they even kissed in front of everyone. An engagement Boba thought to himself, smiling under his helmet. As he made his way through the busy little store the engaged couple made eyes with him, wide ones as they hurried past, even as he had gave them a pleasant nod of his helm. 

The people outside in the shopping center had done the same when they had seen him strolling through the street.

None the wiser were you to his presence, another girl was asking you a question before returning to her own set of waiting customers.

He didn't know why all of a sudden a strange pang in his gut hit him then, she was close to you, her face next to your ear her hand on your elbow as you turned and answered her.

Boba Fett waited for the crowd to die down, patiently waiting towards the back wall full of portraits  of clients showing off the jewelry that was made here.

But once the rush was over he watched you close up the drawer and hang your head with a bit of exhaustion, your hands on the tabletop before he took his turn and made his way over to you.

"Busy night huh?"

You sprang up at the distinct tone of his modulated tone, eyes wide with Sprite but with a smile. "Mando! You’ve gotta’ stop sneaking up on me."

"I told you I was coming."

"Yeah but I didn't think so soon!" Your smile made him smile, you took out a holopad from underneath the glass, scrolling through until you found his name and lack of information. You handed it over to him.

"You said you closed at nine, wanted to get here before you closed." Boba answered while tapping in his numbers.

"Were still open for another hour, Mando." You countered, a flirty smile on your face as he handed the pad back to you.

"Had to be sure you didn't forget about me."

"How could I forget?"

So this was happening.

Usually when Boba flirted it was for information, nothing more than that and in a way it was exactly that but something more, some lingering feeling that felt natural when he spoke to you. 

The women he did flirt with always wanted something from, dank farrik everyone wanted something from him. To hire him to use him to dispose of him when they were through, he didn't let it bother him too much to waste sleepless nights on it but sometimes it hurt. Just a little bit. 

You were genuine about it though as he studied your face.

"So what is there to do around here? I haven't been on this side of the planet in a long time." He wanted to keep you talking, to hear your voice.

"Well that depends, what do you like to do? I doubt hiking with all that armor on." You pointed.

Boba chuckled, smiling at the fact he'd just left the dessert before landing here a few days ago. "Not exactly. What do you like to do?"

"Well I like art so I go to the museums a lot. There's quite a few bars and cantinas around too. A bunch of stuff really." You shrugged.

Boba hummed along and took a chance. "Do you go out for drinks a lot?"

"Sometimes I'll go out with Juni after work."

"Juni?"

"Oh! My coworker, she's around here somewhere." You looked around the store but didn't see her, neither did Boba and he was grateful for the one on one conversation.

"Ah ha. You know you never did tell me your name the other day."

You're face had look of shock when you looked up at him then. "I didn't?! That wasn't very professional of me, was it?”

"I won't tell on you."

You bit your bottom lip before apologizing, adding your name at the end with your hand out for him to take. It was dwarfed by the size of his hand and glove.

He cemented it to his brain, rolling it over and mouthing it behind the beskar of his helmet. "Mesh'la."

"Excuse me?"

"Mesh'la. It means beautiful in my native language."

"Oh! I like that."

Boba suddenly realized he was still holding your hand before he took it back gently. "Are you going out tonight?"

"Not that I'm aware of, why?" You cocked your head. "You wanna ask me out?"

Very bold little one.

"Maybe. Would you go out with me? Just for a drink, you can tell me about all the other places I should visit while I'm waiting."

"Sure. Why not?"

Boba's stomach twisted at your coy smile. "It's a date. I'll be waiting outside."

"Outside? Mando I still have an hour to work!" You protested.

He tapped the side of his helmet and the clock counter showed him the time. "Forty-five minutes. I can be patient." Boba then patted the glass counter, noticing the way you twisted in place as if bashfulness had grabbed you by the throat and strutted towards the door, looking over his shoulder at you still watching him as he chimed through the door.

He had done his job and damn well if he was being truthful to himself. He was proud and took up post just to the side of the store front, noticing how others jogged across the street from him while a few reckless others strolled by giving him a side eye.

They're lucky I'm not after them he thought as he checked the time again, only three minutes have passed and for some unexplained reason all he could do was picture your face and repeat your name over until it sounded faintly like an ancient prayer.

[imtryingmybeskar]

Part 14 of Fugitive. Quite a bit of deviance from what has gone before. Much plot, many darkness.

18+, 12k words.

"Cyar'ika...please..." A cruel smile curved your lips as you heard the Mandalorian's plaintive cries. They soothed your tormented soul like a balm after so many years of being denied. "You cannot do this. Please. Listen to me." The seemingly sourceless orange light splayed across his beskar like an oil slick fire.

You frowned and advanced on him, hissing. "I cannot? You do not tell me what I can and cannot do." As you reached him, he fell to his knees, the T shape of his visor fixed on your face.

"Please do not make me do this, cyar'ika," he begged as you heard the click of his blaster cocking.

"You think you'll...what? Shoot me? Kill me?" your words were icily mocking as you tore the blaster from his grasp and hurled it away without ever laying a finger on it. "You cannot kill me. You cannot harm me. As you say, I am your beloved. You love me." As you spoke you lifted the helmet from his head and dropped it on to the dusty black earth next to him as you looked down into his face. His nose and mouth were leaking blood and his lip was puffy and bruised. "As well you should," you added, bending down to stroke your hand through the hair at the back of his head and grabbing a fistful roughly. You planted a bruising kiss on his mouth and his lip split anew, the iron sweetness of him coating your own lips. His eyes were huge and staring, but his fear was being tempered with anger now. That too was as it should be.

"I love you. Not...this. Whatever this is. This is wrong." Bestowing another smile upon him, you released his hair and brought your hand around to cup his chin instead, speaking so softly and so, so dangerously.

"Wrong, Mand'alor? Are you quite sure about that?"

"I am not the-" But his denial of who he was drowned out by the gasp of pain he emitted as you flooded his mind with images. Of him sitting upon the throne in the royal palace of Mandalore, the Darksaber in one hand and his beskar spear in the other, the very picture of a warrior king. Of a war room filled with Jedi and Mandalorians alike, plotting and strategising their slaughter across the galaxy. Of legions upon legions of fanatical Mandalorians, loyal only to Din and cutting swathes through stormtroopers in a riotous orgy of blood and smoke...At this last you felt his mind rebel and struggle against yours, like a moth battering itself against a lamp. "No...," he managed to spit feebly.

"No?" you asked gently, your voice honeysweet and kindly as you withdrew from his mind and let him get his breath back. "But isn't it a glorious future? You and I working together to rid the galaxy of the vermin that plague it? I know you want to make them pay. For what they did to your child. For making you the Mand'alor in the first place. For Alzoc-" You knew what he was going to do before he did it. So predictable. His hand reached for your throat and closed around it as he stood, but you had already compensated your breathing and the gesture did little except excite you. His limbs were shaking with rage, as well as from his ordeal and you smiled sweetly at him. "You see?" you scraped out, "You do want this. We can set Mandalore aright again. Together. Husband of mine." His hand relaxed its grip a little, but his fingers were still around your neck. He swallowed as if something bitter were trying to force its way up his throat.

"The woman I married would never say such things, never force me to see such things. You are not my riduur." And suddenly his other blaster was in his left hand and pointing directly between your eyes.

You snarled at him, an animalistic noise of purest hatred, "You are weak, Mandalorian. You have betrayed your Creed countless times. And I know that you could never-" Suddenly the world went white, then dark, and you knew nothing more.

***

Seventy two hours earlier

***

"Din, you have to stop!" You were desperately trying not to giggle and encourage his behaviour. "I told you, either I do the ritual here or I go to my room in the Academy alone and do it."

"But mesh'la, how can I concentrate on anything else with you like this?" he said pleadingly as he gathered you into his arms.

"Like what?" you asked innocently, even though you knew perfectly well what. After you had taken shelter in the ship, you had set your robe and clothes to dry and sought out some fresh ones. Apparently you had gotten behind on laundry and had very little that was clean besides underwear, so had asked Din to borrow a spare undershirt and he had obliged. It wasn't often that you wore his clothes, but you loved having the scent of him so close to you all the time. The trouble was that you didn't have any clean spare trousers and now found yourself trying desperately to relax your mind and body when you could almost feel the heat of his gaze as he watched the bottom of his shirt grazing the tops of your thighs. "Would you prefer me naked?" That was the wrong thing to say. Or, possibly the right thing. Apparently the only thing more arousing to Din than you in his clothes was you out of them. He ground his erection against your stomach and kissed you.

"Always prefer you naked," he murmured against your lips.

"Are you going to make a liar out of me?" you asked, smiling. "I told Luke you made me a better Jedi. I also said we wouldn't be doing this here and yet..."

"And yet," he echoed, his nose stroking over your cheek. "Since you've already broken that promise once, would it be so terrible to do it again?"

"Absolutely," you answered. "But I can never resist you, Din Djarin. You know that."

Two hours later, you were finally sitting calmly and meditatively in front of a small bowl of water and a lit candle - the reflection of the candle upon the water helping to clear your mind and soothe your spirit. Recalling your meeting with Paz Vizsla, you went through each stage of what led to your anger at him, analysing and considering all possible angles to avoid a repeat of such behaviours in the future. At the core of it was your attachment to Din, your desire to never see him be hurt or damaged. You had to be mindful and better at managing your emotions surrounding him, else it would be increasingly easy to act that way again. The candle suddenly flickered although there was no draft that you could feel, and you could see a darkness swirl within the bowl. It...had to be a trick of the light. The bowl was white, there was nowhere that the darkness could be. Still, it was there and as you concentrated on it, you thought you heard a noise. A low level thrumming like machinery, but punctuated by the occasional voice calling, shouting in distress, screaming...

"Mesh'la?" Din's voice struck through your mind like an arrow, and his hand on your shoulder shook the dream from you instantly. "You fell asleep," he said needlessly, a smile playing about his lips. You looked down at the candle and bowl. The water was clear and ordinary, the candle not burned down by much. You couldn't have been asleep for more than twenty minutes. "Are you okay?" he asked when you didn't reply to him.

"Yes, fine. Just a strange dream. And apparently I'm more tired than I imagined." Din helped you to your feet. "Can we go back to the Academy? We need to speak with Luke again." His face took on a stony, annoyed countenance. "I know, I know. But we do have things to talk through. Not least the Council's discussion about you and I. Luke...he is a good man. Please trust me on this. And when you feel ready - if you feel ready - you can talk to me about whatever it is that has made you so...well you know." He nodded and looked into your eyes, his own softened and filling with love as he beheld your face.

"I do trust you. Of course I do. And I trust that what I need to tell you will not change us. Its just-" he swallowed thickly, "-its hard to say out loud after so long." Your arms came round his back to hold him close and you felt the understanding pass between you, strengthening you both individually and together.

Once your clothes had (mostly) dried, you got dressed and Din gave a low hum of approval when he saw that you were continuing to wear his undershirt. "You look far better in that than I do," he remarked and you kissed him happily before handing him his helmet. He held your hand on the approach back to the Academy, seeming to want to be as close to you as he could after your disagreement, even through his coverings. Just as you were about to enter through the main doors, Tolea came out to you.

"There you are," she smiled. "I've been looking all over. Luke said there is to be a "Council meeting" after the evening meal?" You could almost hear the quotation marks around 'Council Meeting'. "There's hardly a Council to speak of!" Her eyes fell to where yours and Din's hands met and she raised an eyebrow, more suggestive than questioning. You set about introducing your fiancé and your friend properly. He seemed inclined to trust her as when you gave his name as "Mando", he interjected with his real first name and held out his hand to clasp hers.

"So, a Mandalorian, hey?" she teased. "You always did have a thing for them!" Your eyes had gone wide at her words and you could feel the heat rise in your cheeks as you saw Din's helmet turn to face you in the periphery of your vision and heard what sounded like a laugh swiftly muffled by a cough.

"I did not have a "thing" for them," you spluttered indignantly. "I was just interested in the history of the Mandalorian Wars!"

"Yeah, yeah. But the armour helped, right?"

"Tolea!"

"Alright, I'll stop," she promised, her hand coming to pat your shoulder in a good-natured way. "I actually just wanted to see if you would come and spar with me? I'm a little rusty and it might be a good learning experience for the Padawans."

"I will, if you never mention the word 'Mandalorian' in front of me ever again," you joked. She bowed to you in a mockery of a solemn promise and turned away to walk you around the building to the outside exercise yard. Your cheeks were just beginning to cool when Din's faintly amused voice spoke softly to you.

"A "thing" hmmm?"

"Oh don't you start," you urged, holding up a warning finger toward him.

"Well....I can see it, that's all I'm saying." He paused briefly. "And there was that "thing" with Fett too." Apparently Tolea's hearing was excellent because at this she rounded on you, her face gleeful as you turned to Din, horrified.

"DIN!"

"Excuse me, what? Boba Fett the Bounty Hunter?! The one with the armour, yes? I just want to be clear!" Din's rumble of laughter at your face and Tolea's delight made your heart give a sudden squeeze. It had been so long since you had been with friends that you knew and trusted, and even though they were currently ribbing you mercilessly, you were so grateful to have them both in your life again. Your voice was teasing as you made your rejoinder.

"I'd be careful if I were you. You just asked me to spar and told me you were out of practice. Such a shame, what accidents can occur," you said breezily to Tolea. "As for you," you narrowed your eyes at Din and gently poked your finger at his breastplate, "Copaani mirshmure'cye, vod?!" He laughed at your meaningless threats and caught your hands before pressing his helmet to your forehead for the briefest moment.

"I should not have taught you that one," he said softly. "I mean...I beg your pardon, verd." Tolea was looking between you both, a little bemused.

"I'm going to assume you said something disgustingly private and leave it at that," she ventured.

"Close. I was threatening to smack him in the face. That's kind of Mandalorian courting, isn't it?" you teased.

"Excuse me!" he exclaimed, ruffled. "I'll show you Mandalorian courting!....That...wasn't supposed to sound like that," he added in a slightly defeated tone as both you and Tolea roared with laughter. The good natured teasing between the three of you lasted until you were almost at the exercise ground.

"Okay," Tolea breathed. "We have to be calm and act like actual adults for the children now." She tried to make her face solemn, but giggled slightly when she caught your eye as you were trying to do the same thing. "I missed you," she said as she patted your shoulder again and the warmth of your friendship sloshed between you like a tropical ocean wave. You managed to collect yourselves enough to greet the children with a modicum of decorum. Din settled himself on the edges of the training ground, a little apart from the Padawans - you assumed so as not to distract them. It worked, for the most part, although eyes would occasionally stray to where he stood, monolith-like in his size and stillness.

"As some of you may know," Tolea began, gesturing at you, "we both trained together at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant before the Empire came. We have spent many years apart, but the bonds of kinship as Jedi remain strong, as well as the bonds of friendship." She smiled fondly at the Padawans in front of her. "We would often practice our Forms with each other and train together. Hopefully, our bonds will show through there as well, despite the time apart." She took up her initial stance opposite you, and you followed her lead. As she ignited her lightsaber, you blinked in surprise.

"Yellow? That's new." Tolea smiled.

"I lost my lightsaber that night but I rebuilt it when I came here. There is an ancient Temple not too far from here. I found an old and broken lightsaber within it and was able to rescue its crystal and purify it as my own. It felt like it was meant to be mine, even more than my old one, somehow."

"We shall see how it serves you," you replied with a smile. "I'll go easy on you and spare you the double blade, for now." Tolea tutted at you, but there was warmth in her eyes. You began by slowly demonstrating various aspects of the Forms and explaining how to incorporate Force abilities within some of these aspects, but after a while the joy of training with your friend again overtook the teaching somewhat. It was as if everything else fell away and for a brief time you were both ten years old again, with so few responsibilities, delighting in your new lightsabers and your abilities. Tolea was far less rusty than she had lead you to believe and before long the sweat was running down your back. When you came to a natural break, you begged a few minutes and she gladly acquiesced. It was at this point that you noticed that the number of people observing had swelled considerably. Master Kholi had come to join you with his group of students and was looking with approval at yourself and Tolea.

"This is good to see," he commented. "I myself was never very skilled with weapons. I was a Healer at the Temple and never had much time for them. I am glad the children can learn from such as yourselves." He glanced over to Din who was holding Grogu protectively, the child's back against his chest. "I see the Mandalorian seems more inclined to stay. This too is good. I will see you both at the meeting."

Tolea and yourself set to pairing the children up according to ability. There were practice sabers for the very youngest that were little more than padded sticks and these were distributed. With Din holding tight to Grogu there was an uneven number, so Tolea herself matched with Loro. As you approached Din and Grogu, you could hear his soft words spoken toward the child.

"...know everything about how to defend yourself. We will make sure of it. You will be a great warrior one day. Like your buir." With these last words, he raised his helmet to you, and you realised he wasn't talking about himself. A surge of pride and love roared through you and as you came to Grogu and kissed his head, he reached out to be held by you a while. You took him and cradled him in your arms, so that he could continue to observe the training going on around him and stepped backward a little so that your back was resting against the right side of Din's body. His hand came discreetly to the small of your back and stroked you softly. "You were amazing, cyar'ika," he said softy. "I pity the person who gets in your way."

You beamed at his praise. "Perhaps you could teach the children too. I don't think many of them know how to handle a blaster. I'll raise it at the meeting." You turned around to him and could see his helmet tipped questioningly at you. "I don't know what the others will say, but to me it seems silly to have an expert in weaponry here and not take advantage of it. Your lessons saved my life many a time."

"Teaching children? Do you really think I'm suitable for that?"

"Absolutely. Why wouldn't you be? I had never taught children before I came here. Just...be yourself." You looked across at the training yard at the students. "See, you already have a fan," you added, amused. Alikas was watching you and Din and when she saw you looking, she waved at you, the distraction causing her opponent to be able to knock her training saber out of her hand. She scowled at him, reached her hand out to raise it from the ground and retrieve it, and redoubled her efforts in sparring.

"That one reminds me of you," said Din, and you could hear the smile on his lips through the beskar. "Fierce and unafraid to speak her mind."

"And this one," you said, planting another kiss on Grogu's head, "Reminds me of you. Stubborn and very cute." He chuckled and reached out a finger for Grogu to grasp.

"Where do I sleep tonight?" he asked softly. "And where do you?"

"I think that will depend on what is discussed later. We will have the evening meal first, and then it will be the children's bedtime." At your words, Grogu turned his head toward you with a hopeful coo, and an image came unbidden to your mind. "I'm sure there will be eggs for you, little one," you assured him.

There were indeed eggs, along with fruit and meats and bread and vegetables and a type of savoury pastry you had never had before, but you took to well. The mood at the table was jovial and light, despite the fact that Luke was nowhere to be seen. Alikas displaced you by sitting next to Din before you could this time, and she and Grogu giggled happily together as they shared in their meal. Once Grogu had eaten his fill and was merely playing with his food, Din tasked her with watching him while he gathered a plate of his own to eat. The child nodded solemnly at the request and Tolea squeezed your arm in a silent promise that she would watch over both children. Just before he left, Din took a small silver ball out of a tiny pocket on his belt. Grogu babbled a long stream of happy nonsense and reached for it, using his power to take the ball from Din's hand. Din huffed a small laugh of contentment and stroked Grogu's head softly before picking up his plate. You led Din out of the dining hall and to the right, down one of the corridors of the quadrangle to one of the classrooms where he could eat his meal in peace. After removing his helmet and sitting down with his back to the door, he attacked the food with fervour, having had nothing since breakfast and once his immediate hunger was sated, he stared around at the pale blue walls surrounding him and the windows that looked over the grassy plains.

"Why do you have such a big space for so few?" he wondered aloud.

"Partly because we are hoping that we will not be so few in the near future," you smiled at him. "But also because this structure is part of something more ancient. Certain planets have more of a connection with the Force than others. Or at least, the Force flows more freely through them. This is such a place and is one of the reasons Luke chose to found the Academy here. Other Jedi came here before us and also settled. Some of their buildings survived and were in turn built upon. You paused, then said more softly, "I wish you could have seen the old Temple on Coruscant. It was a thousand times the size of this. The amount of times I got lost, even after having lived there for years...And it was so beautiful. Vaulted ceilings that were so high you could barely see them, or it felt that way. carvings and tapestries of Jedi past everywhere. And a serenity that permeated it. As soon as you walked in you felt more at peace with the galaxy." You only realised that you were staring out of the window, when Din took your hand. You had been looking at the plains but actually seeing the slanted sunbeams coming through the windows of the Temple and hitting the marble floors.

As you came back to yourself Din said softly, "It was your home. You've told me that it was before, but I've never really seen you speak of it as such until now. I'm sorry I cannot offer you a place like that to live."

"Don't. I just need you. The ship feels more like home with you in it than it ever did when I was alone." You stroked your hands over the stubble at his jaw as you spoke and he moved his cheek against your hand, almost burrowing into your touch. "I love you, Din. I don't tell you nearly enough." His eyes met yours and they were soft and warm with his matching adoration of you. You leaned forward to capture his lips with your own and as you did, heard a slightly embarrassed cough from the direction of the door. You raised your eyes to see Tolea standing there.

"Sorry," she grimaced. "Its just, the children are about to prepare for bed and I thought you might like to say goodnight." Din put his helmet back on and stood, gathering his plate and cutlery as he did so. "Here I'll take that," she offered. "You go."

Instead of sleeping in one room, the children were now divided into three dormitories, and Loro had his own little room to himself next door to the younglings. It was strange to see how much had changed in the relatively short time you had been away. Grogu shared a room with Alikas and a little boy called Dann. Even if Luke hadn't mentioned Tolea's biological children, you would have recognised those eyes anywhere. As you went to tuck the children in, Din hung back a little by the doorway, clearly still unsure as to whether he should be there. But when Grogu reached for him, he went immediately, stroking his fuzzy little head and covering him over with the blankets in his crib. "Goodnight, kid," he murmured. "Sweet dreams."

Din and you went your separate ways shortly afterward - he returned to the Haldon while you joined the other Jedi in Luke's study. Luke looked pensive and a little worried as you entered and he immediately asked you about the Mandalorian.

"He is troubled. Less by what we spoke of and more about something deeper, something from his past. He has not spoken to me about that yet, but he is also concerned about the alliance you spoke of. Din has no desire to be the Mand'alor. He obtained the Darksaber almost accidentally. He wishes a peaceful transition of power to the Mandalorian who does wish to rule." Tolea and Ka-Moon both looked a little confused about what you were saying, so you set to telling them an abridged version of what had befallen the day that Luke had taken Grogu. "We have plans to meet with Din's people. After that we will have a better idea of how to proceed. He does not want another civil war amongst the Mandalorians, especially since they are already so few. But the Mand'alor must be determined by combat. There seems to be no way to reconcile these things. An overt alliance with the Jedi at this time would muddy the political waters even further and bring undue attention upon us here," you concluded.

"I understand his reaction a little more now. And yet a reluctant ruler can sometimes be the better kind. He does not seek power for himself, or for its own sake. What about the one that wants the throne?"

"I know little about her, other than Din considers her honourable. I trust his judgement." Luke nodded, looking thoughtful again. Tolea piped up, a little hesitantly.

"I don't mean to detract from the seriousness of the situation, but if he did choose to take the throne does that mean you would be a...queen?" You smiled at her. It was a question that had passed through your mind but that you had paid little real attention to.

"I don't think it works that way. There is only one ruler of Mandalore. There are few shades of grey in their society. I think I would be viewed as his consort, but would wield no actual power. That's if we were married, of course." The unadorned mention of why you were here caused a slight tension in the room for a few seconds before it relaxed and released, the bubble burst by your simple words. No one seemed surprised by your declaration and your suspicion that the others had at least sensed the feelings between Din and yourself seemed to have been proven right. That was if Luke hadn't just told them both outright.

"I am personally unsure about the wisdom of doing away with such rules," Ka-Moon said, a little stiffly. "We all know where such attachment can lead."

"So much has changed," countered Tolea. "The dangers of allowing attachment to drive emotion are still present, but how can we be away from the rigours of Temple life for almost twenty years and then return to that life as if nothing were different?"

"We cannot," agreed Ka-Moon, "But nor should we let go of everything that made the Order what it was."

"I agree," Luke chimed in, "But we should find a new way forward. The Order fell in part because it was not responsive enough to change. I believe we need to be more flexible in how we operate, now that we are so few."

"Forgive me, but you were not there. I do not believe you have sufficient knowledge of how the Order used to be run to be able to criticise it in such a way."

"But we all were," you interjected, "And Yoda himself trained Luke, and I agree with him."

"You have a vested interest in this particular discussion," pointed out Ka-Moon gently. "I am not dismissing your view, only pointing out the circumstances surrounding it."

"Then I too must have a vested interest," said Tolea. "Since my children are here. Would you have us leave, Master Kholi? If we are adhering to the old ways, the children should not be in my presence." She sighed. "We cannot go back. We must build what we can."

"Bringing force sensitive younglings to be trained is far different than seeking marriage. The children are already here, we cannot deny them. We need to nurture them and their abilities. Ratifying marriage within the Order is new territory and possibly dangerous."

"The Mandalorian and I will continue to live as we have," you pointed out. "Whether we speak the words or not, he is my husband in my life, in my heart."

"So what difference does it make?" asked Ka-Moon.

"Precisely," you answered.

The debate stretched. Tea was made and drunk and made again. The light had almost totally failed and only a few streaks of pale green across the blue of the sky to the north showed where the sun had been by the time a decision was made. Ka-Moon was still not entirely happy, but had come around to the idea of forging a new path for the Jedi. Afterward he confessed that his own heart ached for a past love that he had been forced to give up in service of the Order and you understood his reluctance a little more. When you had suggested that he go and seek him, as you had Din, he gave a sad smile and shook his head. "He died fighting the Empire a long time ago. But I wish you and your Mandalorian much happiness in your life together." You were grateful for his kind words and told him as much.

"So...how do we go about this? I mean, can we do this here? Soon?"

Luke smiled a little at your eager impatience. "I don't see why not. If you can find somewhere you want to conduct the ceremony. What will the ceremony be, anyway?"

"I don't even know. There is a very brief Mandalorian ritual but as to what I am bringing, I just don't know. I would like to have you all there, though. My family in attendance and to witness." Tolea was overjoyed for you and hugged you close with tears starting in her eyes as she did so. As the meeting broke up, she caught your hand in her own.

"Come with me, I want to give you something." Curious, you followed her to her chambers - which were dark panelled but hung with beautifully woven and brightly coloured tapestries all over, giving the impression that you were walking into some sort of botanical garden. She rummaged around in a trunk at the end of her bed and finally emerged with a folded garment in her arms. "This was-" she began before her voice cracked. You stroked her shoulder, encouraging her to go on if she could. "This was the dress I was wearing when I met my husband. Well...he was never my husband under the law. He died before...But I was going to use it for my wedding dress as well. If you like it, I want you to wear it."

"Tolea I...that's so wonderful of you. Are you quite sure?" She nodded, sniffling a little.

"It was supposed to be a wedding dress. It should be a wedding dress," she said, simply. "Try it on, we'll see how it suits you and if we need to adjust it anywhere." You gently shook the dress out. It was long and flowing, made of some material that seemed to catch and hold the breeze within it, and a beautiful lavender colour that rippled as it undulated gently. Tolea helped you put it on and aside from some minor adjustments to the waist, and the sleeves being a little too long it fit almost perfectly. Her eyes welled up again a little as she took in the sight of you and you thanked her profusely as you embraced. "I can't believe I have my friend back and now you're getting married? It's so strange! Do you remember those nights we couldn't sleep and would talk about what it would be like to have a "normal" life? We never expected we would actually do it!"

"I remember both of us being giggly over Master Kenobi," you said, laughing. "We weren't exactly model Jedi, even back then!" Tolea laughed and rummaged in the trunk again, coming up with a small sewing kit.

"Let me just adjust this a little for you. It will be finished by tomorrow." She took her measurements and made her markings and you gave the dress back into her capable hands before putting on your usual clothes. "Go tell Din the good news," she smiled as she shooed you gently out of her room.

Even though the hour was late, Din had not closed up the ship, clearly expecting that you would indeed visit after your meeting. As you approached, you wondered why he had not come out to meet you, as the sensors in his helmet would have told him of your approach in good time. Reasoning that he had perhaps become weary of his beskar again and was hiding out in the ship, you all but ran up the incline of the entrance ramp, calling him as you did. He was not in the hold and there was no reply. You opened the door to the room you shared, but he was not there. You couldn't hear the shower running in the fresher either. The elation you had felt was souring to anxiety in your stomach as you climbed the ladder to the cockpit where you found Din's hulking form slouched in the pilot's chair, his helmet thrown carelessly to one side and his right arm dangling loosely over the armrest, the hilt of the Darksaber in his hand. He did not turn at the sound of your approach and a brief moment of terror seized your heart when you thought he might be unconscious, or worse.

"Din?" you called again as you came up to the back of the seat, and this time he stirred a little, though his eyes never left the view from the cockpit window. "Din, what's wrong?" you asked as you came to his side and touched his elbow. Finally, he dragged his gaze to you. His eyes were lit with the same wildness that you had seen when he had kissed you in the rain but it was wrong somehow, muted, dulled, and sickly. A thin trail of dark blood leaked from one nostril.

"I can hear it," he frowned, his words slightly slurred and coming slowly. "Is this what you hear? How can you bear it?"

"You can hear what, Din?" you asked, trying to keep your voice calm as you pressed the back of your hand to his head. His brow was both cold and slick with sweat.

"Everything," he panted. "Why can I hear it? I...I can feel it." His eyes grew suddenly wide and fearful, something you had never seen before and which chilled you to the bone.

"Din, you need to come with me," you said firmly. "You're unwell. Master Kholi will look over you and then you will be fine." This last part was more for your benefit than for his. There had only been one other time when he had acted in a similar way, long ago when you had first travelled with him, before you had ever known him fully. It had been such a silly mistake. As you had chased your quarry through a jungle landscape, he had tripped over a root and fallen headfirst into a bush. You had teased him mercilessly about it for the rest of the afternoon and all seemed well until the next morning. It transpired that as he had removed his beskar for the night, a thorn that had snagged on his clothing had scratched a jagged line onto his skin, its swift poison working its way through him as he slept. Even through his delirium he had managed to put his helmet back on before you found him. It had been his last rational thought for several days.

The beautiful depths of his eyes grew cloudy with confusion at your words. "But...you asked me. If I could feel it. And now I can."

"Its okay, kar'ta." you murmured soothingly to him. "Come with me, everything will be-" A thought struck you like a thunderbolt. "Din," you whispered haltingly, "Do you mean you can feel the Darksaber?" In reply he held the hilt limply up toward you, almost as an offering. It seemed to take all of his strength to make that simple movement. You gulped as you reached for it with trepidation, wanting to take the burden of it from Din, but not wanting you both to be afflicted with whatever it was that was happening. As your fingers closed around the hilt, a wave of sound and emotion hit you. Terror and abandonment and rage and screaming madness and the same thrumming that you had heard earlier as you had meditated, stronger this time and more defined as a heavy thumping the longer you held the hilt. As blackness crowded the edge of your vision, you dropped it to the floor of the ship. Din made tiny anguished noise at the sight and reached down weakly to grasp at it again. "No!" you exclaimed sharply as you pushed him gently but firmly back into his seat. "Leave it there!" You kicked the weapon away out of the reach of you both, the terrifying cacophony blasting through you for a second time as your boot connected with it. Din lay back into the pilot's chair, his chest rising and falling rapidly as if he couldn't quite get enough oxygen into him. Quickly, you used the communication array to contact Luke, silently offering a prayer of gratitude when he answered almost immediately.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "I sense-"

"Get Ka-Moon and come to the ship. Din is ill. Please hurry." Luke disconnected at once and you turned your attentions back to the man in front of you, kneeling down beside him and taking his gloved hand in yours while stroking the sweat soaked strands of his hair back from his forehead. "Kar'ta, they will be here soon and we will make you feel better, I promise. Can we take some of your beskar off? You might be more comfortable when they arrive." His attention seemed to have meandered back to the cockpit window. You stood and looked outside yourself, but could see only the darkness of the plains ahead. Only starlight existed out there to illuminate anything and it wasn't enough. Bending back to Din, you began to remove his pauldrons. He did nothing to stop you, but nor did he assist. You weren't entirely sure he was able to move to help, nor that he was even aware of what you were doing.

Your mind was turning furiously, trying to piece together what had happened. Clearly he had been well enough to get up the ladder to the cockpit in the first place, so this was a relatively new affliction. But you had been at the meeting for hours. Who knew how long he had been here in this state? The thought of him experiencing the torment you had heard and felt for that long made you choke back a sob that tried to make its way up your throat, and you forced your mind back to rationality with some difficulty. When you had been on Artorias and had begun teaching him about lightsaber forms, you had asked him if he could feel anything from the Darksaber, if the crystal within it spoke to him as your lightsaber crystal spoke to you. He had replied in the negative. What had changed? Location was the most obvious answer. This planet was strong with the Force. Was it possible that he had a degree of Force sensitivity but that it took a planet like this for it to be strong enough to be noticeable? Or was the Darksaber reacting differently and not Din himself? You had held the weapon previously and had felt nothing like what you had just experienced. As your mind whirred you were removing his thigh armour and this time he moved his legs up a little, you believed in an attempt to give you easier access to the fastenings. Your heart gave a hopeful leap at this and as you pulled the beskar away you cradled his face and looked into his eyes. They were still hazy, with pain or confusion you couldn't tell, but his attention was fixed on you now, and he held your gaze. Both of which you took to be good signs.

"Its okay Din, it will all be okay. I love you. I love you so much. We will make you better, I promise. I'm here with you and it will all be okay." You were babbling a stream of near-meaningless nonsense, for your own benefit as much as his. You heard Luke's voice and footsteps approach up the incline of the ramp and pressed your lips against Din's briefly, thinking (hoping?) you felt him try to reciprocate. You stroked his face softly before easing him forward from the headrest and placing his helmet back on his head, calling to the Jedi below as you did so.

The next couple of hours were a nightmare whirlwind for you. Ka-Moon made his basic assessments of Din, but was hampered by the fact that you refused to allow him to take his helmet off. You had no idea what choice Din would make in this situation, given that Luke had already seen his face, but you were determined to err on the side of caution and to retain his dignity for him as far as possible. Din seemed to be able to move a little more as the minutes ticked by and eventually could stand, aided by a person on either side of him, though he seemed to have lost the ability to speak when you took the Darksaber from him. Getting him down the ladder was problematic to say the least. While his hands were still able to grip the rungs sufficiently, you ended up helping to physically move his legs while Luke was on standby to catch him, with the Force if necessary. Mercifully, there was a floating stretcher waiting in the hold and as you helped Din to lie back on to it, he groped for your hand and squeezed it when you gave it to him. It was a pitiful fraction of his usual strength, but it bolstered your courage and gave you hope in your heart. You ached for him, that people were witnessing his physical weakness and for the first and only time you hoped that his wits hadn't entirely returned, to spare him his shame. As you had appraised Luke of what you had experienced, he had wrapped the Darksaber in a thick woollen blanket that you had provided, taking care to only touch it with his gloved mechanical hand and looking grimly thoughtful as he did. Tolea was there to greet you at the door of the Academy again and she accompanied you all to the medical bay. Ka-Moon swore that he would not remove Din's helmet but requested that he be allowed a degree of peace to run his tests. You knew it was the best thing to do, but were also having trouble leaving Din's side. Much as you trusted in Ka-Moon's healing capabilities, you couldn't help but feel that somehow this was your fault and that by leaving Din alone you were compounding your mistake. Only when Din managed to breathe a shaky "Mesh'la" to you before stroking his thumb clumsily over your cheek did you feel he was recovered enough for you to be just outside the room. You kissed the top of his helmet and pressed your forehead against it before you left, accompanied by Tolea and Luke.

"What's happening? Did you feel anything from the Darksaber? How can I help him? What can I do?" you fired these questions in quick succession at Luke, your voice breaking on the last one. Tolea came to you and hugged you close.

"I have a theory," Luke began haltingly, "But its not complete...Tolea, tell me again what you saw when you went to the Temple." Tolea let you go and turned to face Luke, but before she did you saw the look of trepidatious realisation on her face.

"The Temple where you got your crystal?" you asked, frantically.

Luke nodded. "I don't know if you remember but just before you left to find Din, I mentioned that I thought I had found reference to an ancient temple nearby. When Tolea arrived she volunteered to go and find it if she could."

"There was something...bizarre about the place," Tolea said, her eyes a little distant. "The further in I explored the more untouched it looked. As if one day everyone had just flown away and left. I found a few useful things scattered around - datapads and the like. The only ruination I could see had been caused by the weather and so was mainly on the outside. Until I reached what looked like the meditation room. There were...bones in there. A lot of them. All jumbled up. And scorch marks from weapons on the walls. Its where I found the lightsaber that I took my crystal from. There were a few of them scattered around, but I was drawn to that one in particular..."

"Did you feel anything from the Temple?" you pressed. "Anything that might explain-" you broke off and gestured helplessly at the room behind you.

Tolea shook her head. "You were always the more perceptive of us," she answered. "I felt nothing but the sadness and emptiness of yet more death around me."

"I need to go there," you said instantly. "If it might help-" Luke held up a warding hand.

"I know its not what you want to hear," he cautioned, "But you must be patient. Do not rush in until we have more information." He spoke more loudly over you as you began to protest, "I know you want to feel like you are doing something. But he needs you here. Once he is back on his feet, you know he will follow you wherever you may go. And without knowing more about what has happened here, you might just be leading him into more danger." He was right, you knew he was right.

"So what can I do?" you whispered miserably.

"You can help me with my research. The Darksaber is a unique weapon in the galaxy as far as we know. And so much of its history is lost. We will start with information on its creator, Tarre Vizsla, and then-"

"Vizsla," you murmured. Luke looked at you, puzzled. "Vizsla was the name of the Mandalorian I met. The one I...lost my control with." Had it really only been the previous night that you and Din had been wrapped around each other in the magnificence of that bed? It seemed like weeks ago. "I knew I recognised the name, but I couldn't think why. I have read about Tarre Vizsla before. Do you think it is relevant?"

"At this point, I don't want to rule anything out," Luke said grimly.

"Can you spare a datapad? I don't want to move too far from here."

Luke's eyes and voice softened a little as he replied. "Of course," he said. "I'll upload everything I have been able to find out about this planet and the Darksaber and I'll bring it to you." Tolea was the one who actually brought you the datapad. She came to you twenty minutes after Luke had departed and she also brought along water, some fruit and a couple of large colourful patchwork cushions that you recognised as having been on her bed earlier.

"In case you want to be a little more comfortable," she explained as you gratefully accepted them. There were no chairs in the corridor and the toll of the day had begun to make itself known to you. "No news?" she enquired, her eyes flicking toward the medbay door. You shook your head wordlessly, not trusting yourself to speak at that moment. She brought you in for a hug again. "Everything will be okay," she soothed as she stroked your hair. "He is strong. He will be just fine."

"What do I-" your voice broke and you stopped to take deep breaths before continuing. "How do I tell Grogu?" you whispered miserably. "He's only just got Din back and now..." Tolea took your face in her hands and looked into your eyes.

"You won't need to tell Grogu anything because Din will be fine," she insisted. You nodded sadly and Tolea sat you down on one of the cushions, positioning herself on the other opposite you. "Can I ask something?" she spoke hesitantly and you nodded for her to continue. "What did he say to you in there? That word that made you come away." You felt your eyes well up and had some difficulty controlling the spasms of grief that passed across your face. "I'm sorry," Tolea apologised hurriedly. "I shouldn't have-"

"It's ok," you said, your voice a little wobblier than you would have liked. "It's Mando'a. He called me 'Mesh'la'. Its his name for me, when we're together. I don't think he's ever said it quite that publicly before. It means 'beautiful'." And for some reason, that was the word that broke the through the dam you had tried so hard to keep strong. Tears flooded down your face in a silent stream as Tolea held you against her shoulder, stroking over your back through your shuddering breaths.

Once you were calm, you insisted Tolea go to get some rest. It would already be a challenge to focus on the datapad in front of you, when Din was so close and yet so out of reach. You didn't want to hurt Tolea's feelings, but you did not want an additional distraction to your task. She left, but only once she had extracted a promise from you that you would call her if you needed her for anything. Once you settled back down on the cushions and began to read, you realised that much of Luke's research was more of a reminder of what you had already known than anything new. Tarre Visla had been the first Mandalorian to train as a Jedi on the Temple on Coruscant. He had created the Darksaber as a way to marry his Mandalorian and Jedi identities and it had later become a symbol of power among Mandalorians, Vizsla himself using the weapon while he was the Mand'alor. After he had died, the Jedi had brought the Darksaber back to the Temple and it had been kept there until members of House Vizsla had taken it back and used it to unite the Mandalorian clans. That had been during the fall of the Old Republic, over a thousand years ago and its history was shrouded in mystery for many centuries thereafter.

More interesting was what he had been able to discover about the Temple that lay not far to the East. It had been a Jedi stronghold towards the end of the Jedi-Sith wars, around the same time that Vizsla was alive, and although it was small it was apparently of some strategic importance to both sides. There were reports of frequent Sith attacks, all of which seemed to be successfully repelled by the Jedi stationed there. However, the last report that Luke had been able to find had some interesting details that caught your eye. The Sith that had attacked on this occasion were bolstered by a cell of highly trained fighters that had managed to withstand the Jedi offensives, even though they themselves were not Force users. And there was a mention of a "Hunter" that stalked the plains, picking off any unwary Jedi that strayed too far from the confines of the Temple. The very last line of this account was a desperate plea to Coruscant for extraction, with a warning that the Temple was now unviable and a line that sent a chill down your spine; "They did not conquer, they did not have to. They were always here. They will always be here."

As you pondered the implications of those words, the door behind you opened and Ka-Moon's kindly face looked down at you. "Come in," he invited, and you scrambled to your feet to do just that. Din was sitting up on one of the beds, his back to the wall and with one leg on the bed and one on the floor, as if he were about to attempt to walk. His remaining beskar, cape and gloves were piled on a chair near to the bed, but his helmet was on. "Don't let him do too much," Ka-Moon was saying as you made your way across the floor to Din. "He needs rest. I will be back shortly." You thanked him a little distractedly as he withdrew from the room, and then turned your attention fully to Din. He moved to take the helmet from his head and you gladly assisted him. He looked exhausted, but much more himself and you couldn't stop the tears that spilled from your eyes as you bent and kissed his lips tenderly.

"Kar'ta," you whispered, as you gathered him to your chest and pressed him close. "I was so worried. I thought...I thought I had lost you."

"Never," he replied, his voice a little raspy. "It will require more than that to take me from you, cyar'ika." You took his face in your hands and scanned him, even as he wiped the tears from your cheeks. There was no evidence of physical hurt to him, even his nose had stopped bleeding. His eyes were his own again and that pleased you more than anything.

"What happened?" you asked as you sat yourself on the bed, holding his hands in your own. "What do you remember?" He was shaking his head at the questions.

"Ka-Moon asked me the same and I will tell you what I told him. I went back to the ship to attend to my weapons and beskar while you were in your meeting. I did so and took a shower afterward. That is all I remember." You frowned.

"You don't remember getting dressed? Putting your beskar back on? Going to the cockpit?" He shook his head at each question as you fired them. "When do your memories return?"

"I have flashes but I don't know if they are real memories or not. I remember taking my helmet off but I don't remember why. I remember a voice. Not yours. But a woman's. And...other noises." He visibly shuddered and then pulled himself together. "The sky. The sky was on fire. I remember your face. You took some of my armour off. And you held my hand. I remember reaching out to touch your face. Then everything seemed to settle in my head but you weren't there anymore. I've felt more like myself again for half an hour or so."

"Do you remember what this woman you heard said?" He frowned, his eyes focused on the floor but not really seeing it.

"She wanted something from me. I don't know what. I can't remember what she said, but I remember her hatred. Its still in my mind, like a bad taste I can't get rid of." He shook his head as if to dislodge what he was feeling.

"Are you in pain?" you asked him gently.

"My head hurt. He gave me something for it." He paused. "What happened to me?" You explained the situation from your point of view. When you came to talk about the Darksaber, Din almost absent-mindedly groped behind his back to feel for it and you gently took his hand in yours again.

"Luke has it. It seems to be connected with what happened but we aren't sure how yet." As you continued with your story, the crease between his eyes deepened until he was fully frowning at your words. You made sure to skate lightly over how much assistance he had required from the ship to the medbay and he didn't seem much inclined to ask. Your story ended with what you had read on the datapad and your own conclusion that you had drawn. "I have to go to the Temple, to investigate."

"Mesh'la-" he began, warningly.

"No, Din. I have to go. I need to stop this ever happening to you again, and for that I need information."

"Then I come with you." He made as if to heave himself off the bed, but you halted his progression gently with one hand.

"You need rest right now. I will not be going any time soon. I still need to see if Luke has discovered anything new." Din reluctantly settled himself back against the wall. When you spoke again, you did so hesitantly, not wanting to make him relive his traumatic experience quite so soon, but also needing answers only he could provide. "I know you say you remember nothing," you began, "but you said to me that you could hear the Darksaber, that you could feel it. Do you recall taking it out? Or using it? Or anything unusual about it from this evening?" Din frowned again in concentration and you squeezed his hand to remind him that you were there and he was safe. He spoke haltingly when he replied.

"When I cleaned my weapons, I held the Darksaber and switched it on to check it was all in order. But I remember that clearly, there was no voice then, nothing was wrong. It was all as it should be. I think...the Darksaber was the way that the woman could speak to me. But I don't know why I think that, I just have a feeling."

"Trust your feelings," you urged. "And let me know if anything else comes back to you. But for now, you must rest." You moved to the other side of the bed to settle next to him. "I am here, kar'ta," you murmured, as he lay down on his side and faced you. You kissed his forehead and held him close and within no time at all his breathing was deep and even as he fell into a deep sleep of exhaustion. After you had moved carefully and quietly back out of the room, you found Ka-Moon and informed him of Din's helmetless and sleeping state, promising him you would return shortly. Then you made your way to Luke's study where you were not surprised to find Tolea assisting in the research he had promised.

"I couldn't sleep," she confessed. "Not when everyone else was awake and doing something." You nodded and squeezed her hand gratefully before sitting in a chair next to her and putting forward the theory that had started to come together in your mind.

"I think that the Darksaber was here on this planet before, a thousand years ago. There is a mention of what sounds very much like a mercenary band of Mandalorians in that information you gave me, Luke. And a reference to a Hunter picking off Jedi, which may also have been one of their number. If Mandalorians and the Sith were working together here, is it not possible that the Darksaber was...infused? With some kind of memory perhaps. If one of the Sith were that strong, could they have done such a thing? And now that the weapon is back here, the echoes of it are strong enough to reach out and try to connect with us. If Din has any Force sensitivity it would explain why he was affected so badly. With no training to shield him, his mental defences would be minimal. I know its not a perfect explanation, but I think it fits a lot of the pieces together."

Luke seemed to ponder what you had proffered in silence for a time. "I have heard of artifacts and weapons retaining an essence of their owners, if their owners were sufficiently powerful in life," he mused. "I am troubled greatly by all of this. Not just because of what has happened to Din, but for the future of the Academy. I thought I felt a darkness...somewhere. I thought it was the remnant of what had happened between you and Vizsla, but now I begin to suspect it is something more. I have had dreams here and there ever since Tolea got back from her exploration, and I should have paid them more attention." He slapped his mechanical hand on the desk, and rose to pace the room.

"When you held the Darksaber, did you feel anything from it?" you enquired.

"No. And that troubles me too. How could someone who is not Force sensitive as far as we know hear it and I not? Unless..." he trailed off and turned to you. "Unless whatever was possessing it had got what it wanted. If possession is the right word. There's still so much we don't know."

"Which is why I need to go," you insisted.

"I will go myself," Luke said. "You are too close to this. If something is targeting you or Din, you need to stay far away from there. And I will not go until I am sure I have learned all I can about this situation." He spoke more softly toward you. "Go to him. Its the best thing you can do right now. And if you can, get some rest. We will resume tomorrow morning."

"The children-" you began.

"The children will be fine," Tolea interjected calmly. "And there is no sense in worrying about them or Grogu right now. Din may well be fully recovered tomorrow. Give it a night and see." You looked between she and Luke, feeling somehow that they were ganging up on you, even though what they were saying was perfectly logical and, you suspected, the right thing to do. You nodded and rose to leave the study.

"Before you go," Luke added, "Could you make out any words in what you were hearing when you held the Darksaber? Anything that might help?"

You shook your head slowly. "I don't think so. It was like a wall of sound. Of screaming in pain and anger and a weird thumping noise. But I should tell you something else that happened to me earlier." And you proceeded to inform him of your dream that you had had while meditating. "I don't know if its related, but the thumping kind of sounded the same and it seems like too much of a coincidence to not be linked."

"Agreed," Luke mused. "Go. I'll catch up with you tomorrow."

As you made your way back to the medbay, your mind was spinning once again. It was logical that Luke be the one to investigate the Temple, but something didn't sit entirely comfortably within you at that notion. You couldn't identify why, but you had a deep feeling that you should be the one to sort this mess out. Din was the most important part of your life and you wanted to be sure that proper justice would be done for the hurt he had suffered. Not that you didn't trust Luke, but you felt that with your additional investment in the situation, perhaps you would be more motivated to get answers. There was a part of you that wanted to just go, leave, fly off in the Haldon and fix it now, now, now. But you resisted the impulse. Din needed you and he came first. When you re-entered the room, Ka-Moon seemed to be running some tests, Din was sat up on the bed, his face covered once again.

"Well, the good news is that you are in wonderful physical shape," he was telling Din as he removed a sensor from the end of his finger. "And if you say you feel fine there isn't much more I can do for you at the moment. I would perhaps ask that you remain here overnight..." He trailed off as Din shook his head.

"I don't like hospitals," he grunted. "I won't get any rest."

"I'll be with him," you told Ka-Moon. "We'll go to my chamber here so we will be close by if anything happens." He inclined his head at you in acquiescence and moved off. Din reached for you as you approached and you took his hand and helped him to his feet. He was quite steady and apparently didn't need to lean on you. "Do you feel okay?" you asked. He nodded, but kept hold of your hand as he gathered his belongings from the chair.

Your chambers had remained almost untouched since your departure many months before. The droids had been in to clean and air the room and fresh bedding had been put on, so it wasn't dusty or dank, but it did have that sense of being unlived in that places get after a time with no one moving around in them. You lit the lamp by your bed and its soft yellow light permeated the room. Din shut the door behind him and deposited his clothes and armour on top of your dressing table, topping it with his helmet and then taking some time to look around him. The space was sparsely furnished and decorated. Everything that had meant the most to you, you had taken along with you upon your departure. Not that there was much, even then. The walls were dark panelled, similar to the room Tolea inhabited and this gave the room a cocoon-like quality. Strip lights were embedded in the walls, but you chose to leave them unlit - right now you wanted to make the room as conducive to sleep as possible. Some hangings in purple, pink and blue decorated the wall behind your bed. Their colours had reminded you of sunset on Naboo and you had bought them on impulse some years before. You had rescued Tolea's cushions from outside of the medbay and you stacked them neatly next to Din's armour before moving to the window and closing the curtains.

"Wait," Din instructed before you could block out the outside world entirely. He came up behind you, slid his arms around your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder, nuzzling his cheek against yours as he did and pulling you flush against his body. "I want to see the view."

"You can see much more of it when its not the middle of the night, Din," you smiled.

"Perhaps I meant the other view," he murmured as his finger snagged on the neckline of his undershirt, hanging so much more loosely than your usual garments and giving him an eyeful of your cleavage. You smiled fondly at his persistence and impetuosity.

"You just had quite an ordeal. Is this really the first thing you want to do?" you asked, half expecting it to be a rhetorical question. He held you even tighter to him and you were astonished to feel his breath hitch a little behind you. You tried to turn to him, to see his face and take him in your arms, but he held you firmly against him.

"I...just need you, cyar'ika. I do not know what happened today and that scares me. That is twice I have been afraid today, and twice I have told you so. What is happening to me? I do not think this place...I do not think it is for the likes of me. Perhaps there is a reason that there were no other Mandalorian Jedi. Maybe these worlds are not supposed to mix in this way." It shocked you, the uncertainty in his voice. It was so unlike Din to sound unsure. Even when he had no idea what he was doing, he would plough on ahead and try until he got the result he wanted through sheer force of will and bloody mindedness.

"You have me, Din. Always," you reassured him and all at once you remembered that amidst all of the worry and trauma of the afternoon, you had still not given him the good news. You squeezed his arms tighter around you and turned your face toward him, your lips brushing lightly over the tip of his nose as you added "If you still want me forever."

You heard the initial confusion in his voice as he said "Of course, why would I-" and the sudden joy that infused his words as he realised what you meant. "We will marry? You will not have to leave the Order?" He turned you to him as he spoke and held your upper arms. You smiled your answer at him and his lips crashed excitedly against yours. "Can we-I mean...I still don't know if you have a ritual to follow. But I want to do this. Now, if we can."

"Right now?" He nodded and cradled your face in one of his hands.

"I need you," he repeated.

"Don't we need someone to officiate? A witness?"

"Usually the head of the Clan is the one to hear the vows. I am the head of the Clan. I am...well, I am head of all the Clans..." he trailed off In a slightly embarrassed way and then continued swiftly as his eyes darted back to you. "We can reaffirm in front of the Tribe when we see them. We can do whatever ritual you wish in front of your Order. But I have been without you as my riduur for long enough. Besides, I wish to look upon you with my own eyes when we are joined."

"Yes," you whispered joyfully. "Let's do this." His smile was like the sunrise as he leaned forward to kiss you softly.

"I must teach you the words first," he smiled. He did and you spoke them slowly together, promising unity in all things, to share your lives in love forever and to raise Grogu and any other children you might have as warriors and looking with love and devotion upon the other as you did. He kissed you again afterward, the beautiful swell of his lips tenderly caressing over yours, the promises that had fallen from them captured between you in unbreakable bonds.

"My riduur," you murmured as you pressed your cheek against his chest, hearing the thunder of his heartbeat and his arms encircling you. "My love."

That night you held him. He lay on your bed with his back to you, looking out over the inky blackness of the planet's nightscape. One hand was around his stomach and curling up to his chest, stroking over his marred skin, and the other was softly stroking his curls while you placed occasional chaste kisses across the top of his back and shoulders, inhaling the heady masculinity of his scent as you did so. Your leg was hooked over his, resting against the sturdy muscle of his thigh and he stroked you there softly, seeming to just want the reassurance of your proximity. Long after he fell asleep you remained awake, your mind still unable to settle after the trauma of the day and the exhilaration of finally being joined with Din in all ways. He stirred a little, a small grunt emanating from him as he twitched in his sleep. Perhaps he too was reliving what had happened. You sent soothing, calm, loving feelings toward him and held him closer and he settled again, breathing a deep sigh and muttering nonsense to himself. Just before the dawn quite made itself known, when the sky was still blue enough to see the stars you succumbed to your weariness, slipping into a dreamless, formless unconsciousness but safe in the knowledge that Din was with you, now and always.

[chilling-seavey]

oh ok what about a blurb for sc where Daniel and Marigold go on their first date?

↳  A/N Such an iconic moment and such a simple yet special night🥺

↳ Word Count: 3793

↳ Seasons Change Taglist: @stuffofseaveyy @randomlimelightxxx @jonahlovescoffee @hiya-its-amber @hopinglimelight @onlyangelavery @sbrewer21 @bessonsbxtch @viamiasoncrack @the-girl-who-cried-wolf @21burritoseavey @queenseavey23​ @xkelsev - Please click the link in my bio to be added to the taglist!

May 16, 2008

Daniel was sure that if he bit his lip any harder, he would draw blood. The high school hallways were bustling with students who all spoke and shouted over each other as they gathered their things after final bell before the weekend. The slamming of lockers and bumping of bodies didn’t even seem to phase Daniel as he stared right down the hallway to where Marigold was standing.

She had her hair in braids that day and she smiled so widely when Daniel gave her a weak compliment in first period. Even just thinking about it now had his stomach in knots. He had never been smooth and never been flirty and even that simple statement in passing made him nervous.

They had talked almost every day since they officially met in first period English. There was nothing Daniel looked forward to more than her sweet ‘Good morning, Daniel’ every day as she walked into the classroom and took her seat behind him. Talking with his friends at lunch led him to accept that he had a wholehearted crush on her and if he didn’t ask her out he would be royally doomed.

Thing is, Daniel made that realization only two weeks after they met and planned to ask her out on Valentine’s day but totally chickened out. Three months later, he was driving himself insane for putting it off so long. His friends said if he didn’t ask her out that week then they would do it for him and wouldn’t that be embarrassing.

It was Friday. After the last bell. He couldn’t put it off any longer.

With one more nervous pet to his hair and a straightening of his back, he made his way over. Marigold glanced up at him as he approached.

“Hey.” she grinned, “You never come visit me. What do I owe the pleasure?”

Daniel licked his lips nervously as he watched her tuck her binders into her rose patterned backpack.

When he didn’t answer, she looked back at him with a chuckle, “Hello?”

Daniel rose his eyes to hers and took a deep breath, “Do you wanna go out with me this weekend?”

A sweet smile played at the corner of Marigold’s mouth as she slung her zipped up bag over her shoulder and closed her locker, “I’m at my grandparents’ this weekend but I’m free tonight.”

Daniel’s eyes went wide, his breath stuttering in his chest for a moment, “Tonight? Tonight…y-yeah, okay, yeah, I can do tonight.”

“Okay.” Marigold nodded in agreement. “I gotta go…mom’s waiting…but message me on AIM with a time and place.”

“Yeah.” Daniel breathed out, watching her rush off past him with a hurried ‘bye!’ and into the hallway crowded with teenagers. He couldn’t hold back the little air punch in celebration for that and he hurried off into the crowd in the opposite direction before anyone could see his bit of a happy dance.

The moment Daniel got home, he was rushing towards the basement, “I need the computer! I need the computer!”

He nearly threw himself into the computer room, only to find his older brother already there.

“I’m mid-game.” Christian said without looking up. “You can have it after dinner.”

“No. No, no, I need it now. Please.” Daniel stood over him impatiently.

“For what?”

“None of your business.”

“I need to know to decide if it’s worth stopping my game.”

“It is! I need to get on AIM, like, now.”

Christian paused his playing and looked up at his brother, “Is it a girl?”

With the distraction that obviously worked, Daniel threw himself on his brother’s lap and unplugged the game controller and closed the window himself. Christian shouted at him in protest and Daniel did his best to hold his older brother back as he opened up AIM and found Marigold’s contact – labeled as ‘online’ - and drafted a super rushed message.

C u at 6 for dinner?

“Mom! Daniel is hogging the computer!” Christian shouted towards the stairs. “And rubbing his nasty butt on me!”

Daniel ignored him, muttering under his breath as he saw the typing icon pop up, “Come on, come on.”

Yes. Where?

I’ll pick u up

A smiley thumbs up emoticon came through as is reply just as Christian shoved him off his lap and onto the carpeted floor. Daniel only picked himself up with ease and tossed the controller at his older brother’s head.

“Go play your stupid game while I have a date with a real girl.”

He rushed for the stairs before Christian could smack him for the diss.

By 5:30, Daniel had showered and dressed in pants and a button-up and fixed his hair three times in the mirror in his room. He grabbed his jacket and keys and hurried for the door. He made it right out to the driveway before realizing he was forgetting something.

Marigold thought farther ahead than Daniel did – that wasn’t odd – and her address was waiting for him in their AIM messages when he returned to the computer. He scribbled it down on a scrap piece of paper and nearly tripped up the stairs on his way back upstairs to type it into the old GPS in his hand-me-down truck. Daniel wasn’t necessarily a clumsy guy but the nervousness that was pumping through him certainly made that his momentary unfortunate reality. He even forgot to take the car out of park before trying to back out of the driveway. A marigold flower that he had picked from his mother’s garden rested in the cupholder.

The robotic voice of the GPS led him through the suburban streets of West Hartford to a red brick Tudor house with lush gardens and a perfectly trimmed lawn. Daniel lingered in the driveway for a moment, staring up at the front door that was framed by two small lights, waiting for him. He took a deep breath, stepped out of his old truck, and walked cautiously up the few stone steps to the hedge trimmed front porch. He barely knocked on the wood door before it was pulled open, revealing Marigold on the other side.

His heart did a little skip.

“Hi.” she said sweetly.

Daniel tried to word his response as he stared at her with her long blonde hair left in their natural waves and her face dusted in light makeup. He finally got out a soft, “Hi. You…look so good.”

Marigold tucked her hair behind her ear, “Thank you. You look good too.”

Daniel shifted and held out the marigold flower to her, “I…would have brought more but this was kinda last minute.”

“Well aren’t you as sweet as sugar?” Marigold giggled as she took it from him and twirled it between her fingers, “But my favourite flowers are hydrangeas.”

“Shit.” Daniel muttered.

“Just remember for next time.” she said as she closed the front door behind her.

Daniel nodded lightly, “Next time.”

They headed to his truck and he opened the door for her and held out a hand to help her up the slightly large step into the passenger seat. Marigold thanked him with a smile and took his hand although the way she easily hopped in meant she really didn’t need any sort of help.

“Where are we going?” Marigold asked once Daniel turned the key in the rumbling ignition.

“It’s a surprise.” Daniel said, switching the truck into reverse and tucked his hand behind her chair to back out of the driveway.

Marigold smiled over at him, “I like surprises.”

“Don’t get your hopes up.” Daniel added quickly.

“Don’t second guess yourself.” she retorted, although her tone was gentle.

Their eyes met briefly from across the front seat of the truck and Daniel looked back quickly to the road, stuttering to a stop at a crosswalk. Marigold reached out a hand to the dashboard.

“Sorry.” Daniel said, “Not quite used to driving this thing yet.”

“That’s okay.” Marigold said easily. “I can’t drive at all so you’re already impressing me.”

Daniel smiled to himself as he continued driving more towards the centre of town. Marigold hummed softly and tucked the flower behind her ear, pulling down the sun visor to look in the small mirror to make sure it was sitting nicely.

“It’s a gorgeous shade of yellow. Did you grow it yourself?” she asked, tapping the petals gently before shutting the visor again.

“No.” Daniel chuckled. “My mom did. I don’t…know a lot about gardening.”

“What a shame.” Marigold tisked. “I love it.”

Her eyes went wide as they turned into a parking lot and she gasped as she threw out her hand to touch his arm. Daniel was sure shivers tore down his spine at her simple touch and he glanced over at her in surprise.

“Are we going to Wendy’s?” she asked.

“Is that okay?” Daniel retorted quickly.

“Yes!” Marigold grinned, clapping her hands together a little in excitement. “Wendy’s is my favourite!”

Daniel let the truck drift to a stop in the drive-thru lineup and he looked over at her, “Really? It’s mine too.”

“Wow. We sit next to each other for three entire months and yet we are still learning about each other.”

“I mean we talk more about Shakespeare than fast food and flowers in class but…yeah.” Daniel chuckled.

Marigold smiled at him, the sweetest giggle falling from her lips, and the dim lights from the restaurant sign and almost setting sun outside the windows cast a pretty yellow glow across her face. Daniel was sure he had never seen anything or anyone as beautiful.

She told him her order and he paid at the window and passed her the takeout bag to hold as he pulled out of the drive-thru. Marigold peeked open the bag and snuck a fry for herself before taking a second and holding it out in front of Daniel’s nose. He smiled shyly and leaned in to let her feed it to him as he drove. She folded up the top of the takeout bag and let her gaze drift out the window as they headed towards the outskirts of town.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked.

“You’ll see.” Daniel answered casually.

Marigold glanced over at him as he was focused on the road and she let a small smile come to her lips. He had this seriousness about him when he drove, or maybe that was just his first date jitters taking over, as his bottom lip stayed wedged between his teeth and his hands stayed wrapped around the steering wheel. He took them out of the suburbs and into the outskirts of town where the buildings moulded into farmland and the street lamps turned into rickety telephone wires. Daniel - who only had his license for a few months - drove extra cautiously as pavement turned into dirt roads. The sun was still just over the horizon but was dropping quickly and the hues of sunset were fluttering through the truck and across their faces.

Daniel finally pulled into an alcove at the side of the road, down a slightly narrow dirt path that somewhat resembled someone’s driveway. Marigold simply held their takeout bag on her lap and trusted his process. He did a slightly rusty three-point-turn to reverse at the end of the path and then parked.

“Where are we?” Marigold asked with a slightly nervous giggle.

“Come.” Daniel opened the door and hopped out onto the dirt below. Marigold followed him around the truck with the takeout bag and he opened the back to reveal the bed of the truck made up with blankets and pillows.

Marigold bit back her smile and turned over her shoulder to the vast expanse of farmland beyond and a perfect view of the sunset and the outskirts of the city in the distance.

“Is it stupid? You can tell me.” Daniel said quickly.

“No.” she answered right away. “I really love this.”

“Good because my other option was bowling and I really suck at bowling.” Daniel sighed.

Marigold laughed sweetly and climbed up into the back of the truck. He followed quickly and they got the pillows arranged to rest back on with the blankets under them to prevent the hard plastic of the truck bed from becoming too uncomfortable. They split their food and ate on their laps while watching the sunset. Daniel was almost too nervous to eat - he felt like he might be sick any moment - but he ate anyway and focused on the soft humming coming from the pretty blonde girl beside him.

“How’d you find this spot?” Marigold finally asked.

“By chance, honestly.” Daniel shrugged. “I was practicing my driving before I got my full license and I was up around here and pulled over to answer a call from my mom and...I dunno...it looked kinda nice.”

Marigold nodded in agreement through a bite of her burger before answering, “It is kinda nice.”

“You’re the first person I’ve taken here.”

“Oh really?” Marigold smiled over at him, “I’m glad. Maybe this can be our spot.”

Daniel bit his lip to prevent himself from smiling as wide as he possibly could back at her and he nodded, “Okay.”

They finished their meals in near silence and by the time the sun finally dipped below the horizon and sent the land into near darkness, they rested back against the pillows comfortably. Daniel pulled up one of the blankets over their laps to keep warm as night fell and the temperature started to drop. Marigold was entranced by the views, her gaze unwavering as she stared up at the stars starting to appear across the inky sky.

“You can never see the stars from town.” she whispered.

Daniel looked from her up to the sky himself and smiled lightly at the blinking stars staring back at them.

“They’re so pretty.” Marigold said.

He looked back over at her, certainly finding her much prettier than the stars. He couldn’t believe she was really truly there with him - after months of psyching himself out and putting it off. She was the prettiest girl in the whole school, Daniel was sure of it, not to mention the sweetest and thinking about the fact that she so easily agreed to go out with him made his heart jump in his chest.

As if reading his thoughts, she asked, “Why’d you want to ask me out?”

Daniel was startled by her question and when he didn’t answer right away she looked back at him expectantly.

“I...You...were the prettiest girl I’d ever seen when you walked into the classroom at the start of term and...so nice to me and so...sweet and...I’ve had a serious crush on you for weeks now but I was too scared to ever do anything about it.”

Marigold lolled her head back against the rear window of the truck and listened so intently to him that you’d think he was preaching the gospel.

“So why now?” she challenged.

“Truth?” Daniel asked.

She nodded.

“My friends said if I didn’t ask you out by the end of the week, they’d do it for me and I don’t think I could ever recover from that embarrassment if they did.”

“Ah, so you waited for the eleventh hour?” Marigold giggled.

“Yeah.” Daniel laughed lightly, looking back down to his lap where he was picking nervously at the loose threads on the blanket draped over them.

Marigold spoke quietly to him, her eyes focused on his face even when he wasn’t looking back at her, “Well you know I’m not shy by any means but...I kinda always got a little nervous around you.”

Daniel finally looked back at her, “What? Really?”

She bit her smiling lip and nodded, “I kinda had a serious crush on you too. I’d get all nervous before first period because I knew I’d be seeing you.”

“Shut up. You did not.” Daniel blushed, looking away from her shyly.

“I did. I did, I swear.” Marigold giggled. “You were just so cute and quiet and made me feel like a little kid all shy.”

“You shoulda told me.” Daniel mumbled, his cheeks flushed pink.

Marigold nudged him, “You shoulda told me.”

They looked back out to the stars, smiling to themselves quietly at the confessions of the other. By the light of the stars, Marigold slid her hand out and brushed over his wrist ever so gently. His eyebrows furrowed a moment in confusion and turned his left hand out palm up as if expecting her to pass him something but all she did was slide her fingers into his and held his hand. Daniel kept his eyes on the sky but gladly kept a snug grip on her hand, ignoring the sickening sweet butterflies that flew around in his stomach.

“My mom says I can get too friendly sometimes so if I cross a line just tell me.” Marigold said.

“You’re fine.” Daniel assured her with a whisper.

She shuffled closer and leaned her head on his shoulder and he swore the feeling of her so close had the most blissful warmth radiating throughout his whole body. He gently rubbed his thumb over hers and she gave his hand a squeeze. Is this what heaven felt like? Daniel never wanted to leave. Just to sit forever just them and the stars.

They sat just like that for a while, sharing whispered conversations about home and their families and their favourite movies. Even when their palms got a little clammy as the minutes moulded into hours, they didn’t move from their spot.

Their spot.

Curfew approached faster than they would have liked to admit and Daniel turned to look at her in their close proximity. Their noses touched as she was still leaned up into his side but she just brushed hers over his and they shared little shy giggles. He could have kissed her right then and there. The stars sparkled in her light blue eyes and he could feel the warmth of her body against his and she was staring at him like she wanted him to.

Daniel shifted slowly and dusted a kiss over her cheek instead before slipping his hand out of hers, “We should head back.”

His shyness made her smile and she let her gaze linger on him a moment longer as he gathered their empty takeout bag and shifted the blanket off of their laps. Daniel never often noticed the way she stared at him when he wasn’t paying attention, always with that same soft smile and adoring light eyes, ever since that very night of their very first date.

Daniel mentally beat himself up the entire drive back into town for not kissing her. The opportunity was right there and he chickened out. As they pulled into Marigold’s driveway, he told himself he was going to kiss her and end the date as it should end. He parked and took a deep breath before looking over at her.

“Thank you for tonight.” Marigold smiled. “I had fun.”

“You’re welcome.” Daniel replied quickly.

“Dinner was great...the stars...everything...it was incredible.”

Daniel only nodded, trying to find that perfect beat of silence so he could go for it but Marigold wasn’t really one to ever stop talking.

“I haven’t really been on dates before...but this one was certainly my favourite. Even the flower. Especially the flower.” she touched the yellow marigold that was still tucked behind her ear before grabbing her small purse and opened the door.

“I’ll walk you up.” Daniel said hurriedly and jumped out of the truck with her.

He stuffed his hands in the pockets of his pants as they headed up the front steps and she smiled widely at him.

“What a gentleman.” she complimented, a hint of teasing in her tone just to make him blush.

She reached for the door handle but turned back to him almost expectantly. Daniel almost went for it but she spoke again.

“So...are we dating then?”

Her question took Daniel by surprise but she smiled sweetly at him as she waited for his answer.

He licked his lips nervously but nodded, “Yeah. I’d...I’d like that.”

“Daniel, will you be my boyfriend?”

“I’m supposed to ask you!”

“You asked me on the date so it’s only fair I can ask you to date me.”

“That’s...that’s not...Marigold, will you be my girlfriend?”

“Only if you agree to be my boyfriend.”

“You’re so stubborn, oh my gosh.” Daniel laughed nervously.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yeah, obviously.”

“Yeah, obviously.” Marigold giggled, using his words as her reply too, their momentary banter falling into silence.

This was the moment.

Daniel stepped closer to her and leaned down slightly, sliding his hand to the side of her neck and gently tilted her head up towards him. They were only a mere inch apart before the front door was tugged open and Marigold, who still had her hand on the handle, went stumbling backwards with a gasp.

“Mari!”

Marigold turned to her younger sister with a huff, “What, Iris? What is it?”

The blonde girl in the doorway - who looked a heck of a lot like Marigold apart from her slightly darker blonde hair and much greener eyes - continued loudly, “Do you know where my purple skirt is? I need it for this weekend!”

“You couldn’t have waited two more minutes for me to come inside?” Marigold scolded lightly.

Daniel shifted shyly on his feet and kept his hands in his pockets as she reprimanded her little sister.

“Hey,” the younger teenager looked past her to Daniel, “Aren’t you Anna Seavey’s brother?”

Daniel nodded stiffly, “Yeah.”

“Jesus! She’s like the coolest freshman in the entire school. Mari, are you dating Anna’s brother?!”

“Iris! You’re being rude. And don’t say Jesus.”

“Okay, but have you seen my skirt? Can you help me find it?”

Daniel chuckled at Marigold’s obviously unimpressed expression but she sighed in defeat, always too nice for her own good.

“Fine. I’m coming.” Marigold looked back to Daniel, “Sorry.”

He waved his hand between them casually, “Nah, it’s fine.”

“I’ll see you on Monday.” she smiled. “Thanks again for tonight.”

Daniel nodded and watched her be pulled inside by her fourteen-year-old sister. He lingered on her front porch for a moment before exhaling deeply and running his hands through his hair. Merely a few hours before he was pathetically pining over this girl from his english class and suddenly, by nightfall, he was her boyfriend.

Daniel drove home in his hand-me-down pickup truck that lingered with the scent of her floral drugstore perfume. No junior would ever say this, but he couldn’t wait until Monday.

[band-geek-727]

Miyako Inoe Aesthetic

BOLD any which apply to your muse! Remember to **REPOST! **Feel free to add to the list!

[ **are the ones I added ]

[ COLORS ] red. brown. orange. yellow. green. blue. purple. pink. black. white. teal. silver. gold. grey. lilac. metallic. matte. royal blue. strawberry red. charcoal grey. forest green. apple red. navy blue. crimson. cream. mint green.

[ ELEMENTS ] fire. ice. water. air. earth. rain. snow. wind. moon. stars. sun. heat. cold. steam. frost. fog. lightning. sunlight. moonlight. dawn. dusk. twilight. midnight. sunrise. sunset. dewdrops.

[ BODY ] claws. long fingers. fangs. teeth. wings. tails. lips. bare feet. freckles. bruises. canine. scars. scratches. wounds. burns. spikes. feathers. webs. eyes. hands. sweat. tears. feline. chubby. curvy. short. tall. normal height. muscular. piercing. tattoos. big ears. shell. trans. hunched/bent. **horns.

[ WEAPONS ] fists. sword. dagger. spear. arrow. hammer. shield. poison. guns. axes. throwing axes. whips. knives. throwing knives. pepper sprays. tasers. machine guns. slingshots. katanas. maces. staffs. wands. powers. magical items. magic. rocks. mud. torpedoes. **shurikens.

[ MATERIALS ] gold. silver. platinum. titanium. diamonds. pearls. rubies. sapphires. emeralds. amethyst. metal. iron. rust. steel. glass. wood. porcelain. paper. wool. fur. lace. leather. silk. velvet. denim. linen. cotton. charcoal. clay. stone. asphalt. marble. dust. glitter. blood. dirt. mud. smoke. ash. shadow. carbonate. rubber. synthetics. crystals.

[ NATURE ] grass. leaves. trees. bark. roses. daisies. tulips. lavender. petals. thorns. seeds. hay. sand. rocks. roots. flowers. ocean. river. meadow. forest. desert. tundra. savanna. rainforest. caves. underwater. coral reef. beach. waves. space. clouds. mountains. underground.

[ ANIMALS ] lions. wolves. bears. eagles. owls. falcons. hawks. swans. snakes. turtles. ducks. bugs. spiders. birds. whales. dolphins. fish. sharks. horses. cats. dogs. bunnies. praying mantises. crows. ravens. mice. lizards. werewolves. unicorns. pegasus. dragons. rats. monsters. parasites. tigers. foxes. bats. armadillos. pinnipeds. goats.

[ FOODS/DRINKS ] sugar. salt. candy. bubblegum. wine. champagne. hard liquor. beer. coffee. tea. spices. herbs. apple. orange. lemon. cherry. strawberry. watermelon. vegetables. fruits. meat. fish. pies. desserts. chocolate. cream. caramel. berries. nuts. cinnamon. burgers.  burritos. pizza. ambrosia. cookies. home-cooked meal.

[ HOBBIES ] music. art. watercolors. gardening. smithing. sculpting. painting. sketching. fighting. writing. composing. cooking. sewing. training. dancing. acting. singing. martial arts. self-defense. electronics. technology. cameras. video cameras. video games. computer. phone. movies. theater. libraries. books. magazines. cds. records. vinyls. cassettes. piano. violin. guitar. electronic guitar. bass guitar. harmonica. harp. woodwinds. brass. bells. playing cards. poker chips. chess. dice. motorcycle riding. eating. climbing. running. puzzles. studying. automobiles.

[ STYLE ] lingerie. armor. cape. dress. tunic. vest. shirt. boots. heels. leggings. trousers. jeans. skirt. jewelry. earrings. necklace. bracelet. ring. pendant. hat. crown. circlet. helmet. scarf. brocade. cloaks. corsets. doublet. chest plate. gorget. bracers. belt. sash. coat. jacket. hood. gloves. socks. masks. costume. ruffle collar. cowls. braces. watches. glasses. sunglasses. visor. eye contacts. makeup. hoodie. sweater. necktie.

[ MISC ] balloons. bubbles. cityscape. light. dark. candles. war. peace. money. power. percussion. clocks. photos. mirrors. pets. kisses. diary. fairy lights. madness. sanity. sadness. happiness. optimism. pessimism. loneliness. fear. family. friends. assistants. co-workers. enemies. loyalty. deception. smoking. drugs. kindness. love. hugs. criminal. lawful. jealousy. medicine. **honesty.

[221bsunsettowers]

TK/Carlos Royalty AU: The Kingdom Lights Shine Just for Me and You: Chapter 1: Never Thought I’d Meet You Here

TK Strand is a Prince who has given up on true love after having his heart broken.

Carlos Reyes is a Knight who longs for true love but must put his family's needs first.

Carlos just won a jousting tournament hosted by TK's father.

The prize?

An arranged marriage with one Prince TK.

This can also be read on Ao3 here. The entire story is already outlined as it began as a response to a headcanon request for Prince TK and Knight Carlos, and I’m feeling really inspired, so chapters should be added pretty regularly! Thank you so much to everyone who have already been so excited and encouraging!

There will be soft boys with emotional baggage! Strangers to lovers! Hurt/comfort! Angst with a happy ending! Near death experiences but everybody lives and no one dies! Minor appearances by other Lone Star characters! 

CW for medieval violence, mentions of overdrinking to the point of potential harm

Chapter 1: Never Thought I’d Meet You Here

There were a lot of words Prince TK Strand would have liked to use right then, but apparently they weren't befitting of royalty. So he just stayed silent, biting his tongue, watching a group of men compete for his hand in marriage.

Because clearly, TK thought to himself, adding in a mental roll of his eyes for good measure, that was going to fix every part of him that had been broken by Prince Alex. TK had thought that Alex was the one, even though his parents had strongly disagreed. They had pointed to the reports of Alex's reputation that already permeated the nearby lands, stories of multiple broken engagements layered upon tales of overworked servants and underfed subjects. But TK had been won over by Alex's sporadic assurances that TK was special, how well they would rule together, swayed so strongly that he was ready to propose marriage until Alex bluntly told him that he had been seeing Prince Mitchell for months and Mitchell's land was worth far more gold than TK's.

TK had drunk a lot of wine that night, so much he remembered nothing of what happened after Alex had left. Everything he knew from there was hearsay, what his mother and father had been able to get out at his bedside through their tears when he finally awoke. TK had lost months of his life to Alex's lies, two days of his life to Alex's cruelty, and he was determined not to lose any more time. He hadn't had a drop of wine since that night.

It was especially hard to fight the urge to numb the pain when he was subjected to this abundance of embarassment. His mother and father, the King and Queen of Austenia, having to hold a jousting tournament because their son the Prince couldn't make a match on his own. King Owen and Queen Gwyneth insisted that wasn't the case, that all that they wanted was their beloved son to be happy (happier than they found themselves was the unspoken message, as it was a poorly kept secret around the palace that Owen and Gwyneth retired to separate bedchambers every night). But all TK could hear resounding in his own head was that the only way someone would want to be with him was an arranged marriage that would at least bring them wealth and privilege.

Sir Carlos Reyes had always believed in true love. He grew up at the feet of his elder sisters, listening in awe to the fairytale stories they read aloud to him, knights going on dangerous quests to rescue a prince from a dragon, princesses finding their way through thorny curses to rescue their true loves, and he had believed that one day he would be in his own fairytale. He would rescue a handsome and kind prince, and they would live happily ever after.

No part of that tale had involved him in a jousting tournament, fighting for the right to an arranged marriage with a Prince he had never even met. All Carlos knew was his name-Prince TK Strand of Austenia-and the wideflung stories about Prince Alex's dastardly treatment of a now-heartbroken TK. Clearly the arranged marriage was not TK's idea, he was still hurting over Alex, perhaps even still in love with the man.

  But clearly, as much as Carlos dreamed so strongly of a love match, he needed to win this tournament. His family had a decent holding, a small but well run estate, but his eldest sister was in love with a man of higher stature, a man who also loved her dearly, but whose parents were insistent on him marrying a woman they considered of equal stature. If Carlos could win this tournament, secure his position of Prince, no parents could deny his sister's dream.

So here he was, at the invitation of King Owen himself. Carlos had assumed that everyone had been personally invited, but in speaking to a few other men, he had quickly learned this was not the case. Each man had boasted of defeating every other eligible man in their area to be allowed to enter the tournament. Carlos had quickly decided that, despite being a very honest man, the personal invitation would be information he would keep close to his chest. Something told him that sharing even a hint of something he himself did not even understand would place a very large target upon his back.

However, Carlos was determined not to hide anything else, particularly not his fighting skills. He might not be from as large an estate or as wealthy a family as the other men at the tournament, but his father had trained him to be a protector and defender, just like him. Carlos had put in his time as a squire, been dubbed a knight, and continued to hone his skills. By the time he mounted his horse and faced down his final opponent, Carlos could see the fear in the other man's eyes before they lowered their visors and charged.

It was over before it truly began. The other man flinched, leaned back slightly, but enough that Carlos' lance swept his aside easily, landing a hit hard enough to tumble the other man off his horse and to the ground on the first pass. Carlos reined his horse in, leaping gracefully off and hurrying to his opponent's side.

"Are you hurt?" Carlos asked in concern. The other man stared at him in confusion, but shook his head, taking the hand Carlos proffered to assist him back to his feet. "You fought valiantly," Carlos assured him, before turning to face the royal party, bowing low as he removed his helmet.

  Raising his head, Sir Carlos finally met the eyes of Prince TK.

Oh. Carlos felt all other thoughts fly from his head as he held TK's gaze.

Oh. TK's mind could do nothing else but unknowingly echo the very thought ringing through his now-bethrothed's mind.

Oh.

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[swordsandshuttles]

Rekindling A Hero Chapter Four: Skin Suit

Tali was alive…

Huddled inside the Kodiak, Shepard kept his eyes on the floor. Miranda and Jacob were seated across from him, discussing something. He wasn’t paying attention; his mind was far away. She was alive. Seeing Tali again had felt almost surreal. Like their first meeting, but with the roles reversed. Watching her stride through her squad so confidently, commanding that asshole Prazza without an ounce of fear or hesitation. Even though she wasn't really shy, he’d never seen anything like that from Tali before. He felt a little tug at the corner of his mouth, no wonder he hadn’t recognised her immediately. She certainly wasn’t the girl he rescued two years ago. She had a new position, a new suit and a new aura around her. But those eyes… he’d recognise them anywhere. They glowed, or more accurately shone, with singular warmth.

He hadn’t thought to mention it at the time, but Shepard had noticed other changes in his quarian friend. She seemed taller, though perhaps he’d just never seen her standing proud, without fear. She still only came up to his chin, but you couldn’t tell it. She was larger too, fuller figured. He’d noticed it immediately. Her arms and legs were thicker; the young technician must’ve taken to gym life at some point. When she’d helped him to his feet after the Meeko’s airstrike, he’d felt the strength in Tali’s grip, how she’d pulled the larger man up effortlessly. Of course her weight gain had only complimented her figure. She’d kept her impressive waistline, and her belly was just as flat and toned as always. Instead her newfound padding brought back memories of their dance together.

Forcing the inner caveman back into his cage, Shepard instead focused on the new suit Tali had been wearing. The quarian envirosuits were a generally beautiful item of clothing. Melding the practicality of having to live in them, with the aesthetic charm of a deep, social culture. Her pilgrimage suit had been eye-catching to start with; a dark blue material, with purple garments wrapped around her hips and left arm. They had a silvery-white pattern, like swirling winds. The veil she’d worn over her helmet had draped down behind her shoulders, giving her a smaller, slimmer look.

But this new suit had been something more. Far from the ramshackle look of her pilgrimage outfit, Tali’s new suit was grander. The material was a deep black, adorned with purple over-garments again. But the hue of her new fabrics was a deeper, more royal purple, accented with gold. A hood, bunching up a little at her shoulders, had replaced her veil. It was broader, better fitting her maturity. Typical of her quarian origins, the new suit was also fitted with belts fitted around her waist and just below her bust, holding all manner of pouches and pockets. A pair of elbow-length fabric over-gloves added the rich colour to her extremities, with the remainder of the fabric snaking down from her hood around her belly, before being wrapped around her thighs. Like before, Tali wore a pair of two-toed boots that came up her knees, protecting her digitigrade legs from harm while giving them complete freedom of movement. Shepard grinned; he’d spotted her old dagger, still strapped to her left leg. Overall, her new look perfectly reflected the woman he’d always known she’d become, no longer uncertain and struggling to make do, but put-together and confident. She’d even changed the hue of her helmet’s visor, matching her garment’s purple motif. He liked it; he could see her eyes clearer through the new mask.

“So, I take it you and that quarian know each other?” Miranda’s voice pulled Shepard back into the shuttle’s cramped cabin. He focused on her face, blocking out the nearby window.

“She’s an old friend.” Shepard answered curtly. Miranda let out a snigger, but didn’t smile.

“She must be some quarian, worth pissing away our best lead for.” She said coldly, making no attempt to hide her contempt. He held her gaze, but didn’t answer. He had no intention of playing this game. Miranda looked down at her hand, flexing her slender fingers before balling them into a fist. “Never pegged you for a xenophile, maybe you’ve just got a thing for bodysuits?”

Shepard got up from his seat, teeth bared and crackling with blue energy. Miranda shifted her posture, still seated but ready, daring him to make the first move. His body ached from their last fight, but hearing this bitch disrespect his friend wasn’t something he’d tolerate. His own large hands clenched to fists, his better judgement quickly losing out to the satisfaction of liberating the woman’s teeth from her skull.

“That’s enough, Miranda!” Jacob stood up, getting between them. “We’re here to help Shepard, not harass him over his decisions.”

“That’s easy for you to say. You don’t report directly to the Illusive Man: You’re not the one who has to tell him we gave up our only lead because Shepard didn’t have the stomach to tell his little friend no.”

“That’s not our call to make, Miranda. The Illusive Man says Shepard’s in charge, he’s in charge.” Jacob crossed his arms, looking her in the eye. Her lips pressed together as she glared at him, but she didn’t say anything else. With a slight wince, Jacob sat down again. Shepard followed suit, the built-up biotics crackling off him. Avoiding the cabin window, he put his eyes on his knees again, but not before catching Miranda’s cold stare. He could see it plain as day, she despised him.

The remainder of the flight to Minuteman Station was almost silent. The two Cerberus agents said one or two things after the argument, but Shepard didn’t speak again. He was sitting on his anger, digesting it. It was frustrating, he barely knew Miranda at all and yet her insult had crawled right under his skin. Her jabs at his performance were one thing, but insulting Tali had really touched a nerve. He tried his best to twist the anger into pity. Obviously a xenophobic terrorist would never appreciate the efforts of someone like Tali, just because of her species. It didn’t matter that she’d revealed Saren to be a rouge Spectre, or that her evidence had first alerted everyone to the threat of the Reapers. Hell she’d even been there, right at his side when he took down Sovereign. Whatever the press said, she was just as much a hero as he was. Shepard didn’t want to linger on it, he didn’t need to justify why Miranda was wrong. But beyond that, maybe there was something else bothering him. He trusted Tali implicitly, but she answered to superiors. What if the quarians didn’t forward Veetor’s data? He’d be stuck again, fumbling in the dark. What if Tali tried to send it anyway? The last thing he wanted was to jeopardise her place amongst her people, something she’d fought so hard to earn.

God… would he even see her again?

The Kodiak settled onto a landing pad at the massive Cerberus space station. Despite its size, Shepard saw very little of it. He was again shown to the small, featureless room. He stood on the metal circle and waited as the holographic curtain enveloped him, transporting the commander back into the Illusive Man’s office. The terrorist leader was strutting around this time, blowing little clouds of smoke before finally turning to address the commander.

“Shepard, good to see you in one piece. I understand things were more exciting than our previous searches?” The Illusive Man’s question poked at him.

“Sounds like you already know.” He answered.

“Miss Lawson sent me a report while you were aiding the quarian with her dead.”

“I’m sure she did.” Shepard grit his teeth.

“Speaking of which, we received the Omni-tool data from the pilgrim, Veetor. Nothing extensive, but it does confirm that the Collectors are responsible.” The Illusive Man took a drag of his cigarette. “It’s a surprising olive branch. The data came from the Migrant Fleet’s official channels, straight from the admiralty. Quite the friend you’ve got, Shepard.”

“Amazing what you can accomplish by playing nice.” Shepard mused.

“Diplomacy is difficult when you’re already mistrusted, I’m sure your quarian could appreciate that.”

“I’m tired, could we cut to the chase?” Shepard’s remark got a flicker of annoyance out of the Illusive Man, but he quickly smiled again.

“Of course. Now that we know who’s behind the abductions and the tools they’re using, our next step is finding a way to counter this weapon they have, these… seeker swarms. Once we nullify the enemy’s advantage, we can start planning a counterattack and crush the threat permanently. Shepard, you’ve proven yourself the decisive man I expect you to be, so I’ll say it plainly. I want you for this mission, I don’t think anyone else can destroy the Collectors.”

Hearing such praise from the man who’d tortured his friend and killed an Alliance admiral filled the commander with a kind of unease he’d never felt before. He’d seen it himself; the Collectors were taking people. Coupled with Tali’s account of the Reaper artefact and it was too big a threat to ignore. But this was Cerberus; whatever happened on this mission, he knew there’d be a plan in place to deal with him eventually. Aside from their political differences, Shepard had been personally responsible for disrupting many of the organisation’s plans before. They wouldn’t just forgive and forget. He sighed quietly; he hated being out of options.

“What kind of resources will I get for this mission?” He asked.

“You’ll be fully equipped, commander. I’ve got a ship ready for you, crewed and top of the line. You’ll have the latest in weapons and equipment, and credits whenever you need them, no questions asked.”

“I’ll need flexibility. If this is anything like hunting Saren, I can’t be tugged around on a leash.”

“You’ll have complete command of the mission Shepard. That’s why I chose you. Use whatever tactics you see fit, just get the job done.”

“What about my team? A ship and crew won’t be enough.”

“Miranda and Jacob have been assigned to your command for the duration of the mission. I’m also compiling a list of soldiers, scientists and other specialists. One of them, a master infiltrator has already accepted my offer. You’ll get dossiers on the others as we acquire them.”

“I don’t want Miranda on the team. She’s already undercut my authority.” Shepard said flatly. The Illusive Man’s brow rose.

“Miranda’s my best agent Shepard. She’s the only one I trust to work with you, and she’s the reason you’re alive now. This is non-negotiable, I’m afraid. But don’t worry; I’ll speak with her about your authority.” Shepard already knew it’d be pointless to argue, he’d have to cross that bridge when he got to it.

“Fine.” He relented.

“Good. Now, to start I want you to head to Omega. It’s a gritty little rock for outlaws in the Terminus Systems, and it’s the current address of professor Mordin Solus. We’ll need his help to develop our countermeasure.” The Illusive Man went to terminate the call when Shepard spoke up.

“We’re not done yet.” He said forcefully. The terrorist’s hand lingered over the controls, before he turned around again.

“Was there something else?”

“My old team, the ones who helped me fight Saren and the geth. I want them.” Shepard demanded.

“I’m afraid that may be impossible, Shepard. It’s been two years, they’ve moved on, changed allegiances.”

“I don’t care, where are they?” Shepard insisted, causing the Illusive Man to exhale in frustration.

“You’re friend Kaidan Alenko is still with the Alliance. He’s been promoted if I recall, and his file’s classified. Naturally he won’t be an option. Dr T’Soni seems to have hung up her digging gear for a job as an information dealer. My sources show she’s become entangled with the Shadow Broker, which means she can’t be trusted. The Krogan, Urdnot Wrex is on Tuchanka, but he’s currently embroiled in political turmoil there. He’s attempting to unite the krogan clans.”

“What about Garrus Vakarian?”

“The turian vanished shortly after your public funeral. So far we haven’t been able to find him, however…” The Illusive Man brought up a dossier. “…The vigilante Archangel does seem to match your friend’s description: A turian sharpshooter, leading a small band of mercenaries against organised crime on Omega. Who knows, you might get lucky?” He gave a shrug and grinned. Shepard hated the man’s smile.

“There’s one more thing.” Shepard said, fixing his eyes on the Illusive Man. “I want Tali’Zorah on the team.”

“I’m afraid it’s too early to tell if that’s possible. I’ll need more intel before I can-”

“No.” Shepard interrupted. “This is non-negotiable. I know you’ve got eyes inside the Fleet. She’s being dispatched on a mission into geth territory, that means either the Far Rim or Perseus Veil clusters. I want her location before I leave Omega.” The Illusive Man pinched the bridge of his nose.

“Shepard, you can’t allow your personal feelings to influence-”

“Do it or I walk.” Shepard stated bluntly. “You want me to stop the Collectors? You really believe I’m the only one who can do it? Either you have her location and dossier ready for me by the time I leave that asteroid, or I’m turning myself in to the Alliance.”

The Illusive Man couldn’t hide the anger on his face. He just stood there, silent for a long time. Shepard held his gaze, unwilling to budge. It was obvious the man wasn’t accustomed to ultimatums, at least ones aimed at him. The commander prepared himself for threats, or blackmail, but instead the old man’s face softened.

“If that’s what it takes to get you on board Shepard, we’ll find your friend. Tali’Zorah’s dossier will be ready before you leave Omega, you have my word.”

“Then I accept.”

“Good… oh, and I found a pilot I think you might like; I hear he’s one of the best. Someone you can trust.”

Without another word, the Illusive Man tapped his desk’s hologram and the call ended. Shepard was standing alone again, letting out a long-held breath. If nothing else, he’d be keeping one friend. Or so he thought.

“Hey commander?”

The voice pulled Shepard around faster than he thought he could move. His eyes darted to the open door, unable to believe his luck.

“Just like old times, huh?”

Full chapter here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/35752780/chapters/89837371

[theamityelf]

If you're participating in the game: Ben introduces his parents to his new girlfriend, Uma.

Ben suggested they do it at some party, or event. Some occasion which would make it inconvenient for his parents to protest or make a scene. But Uma was adamantly against that.

“If they have a problem with me, I’d rather they let all that out right off the bat,” she said, in a half-there tone because she was also poring over a file on Ben’s desk. She was leaning over in such a way that one of her teal braids dangled just in front of his nose, and he felt tempted to curl it around his finger, as he had seen Harry do countless times when wheedling for attention. But more pressingly, he was tempted to offer her his seat; the only reason she wasn’t already in it, or in his lap, was because today the lofty impertinence of sitting on his desk appealed to her, instead. “I don’t want all four of us to be dancing around it for however long. Fake smiles and veiled insults are fine for council meetings, not family get-togethers.”

“It would remind you of Mount Olympus?” Ben guessed, and Uma loosed a toothy smirk:

“Oh, pretense doesn’t last long there at all. Remind me to tell you about Thanksgiving dinner...or, I guess, you could ask Harry.”

The day they ended up choosing was a fairly free one, which made Ben nervous; normally, if he had to meet with his parents, or at least with his father, he made sure that there was some other event scheduled directly after, so that he would have a way to leave as soon as he needed to.

“If you don’t want to do this, we don’t have to,” Uma said, frowning as she picked up on his nerves. “I don’t care about your parents’ opinion, and you don’t need their permission anyway. At least, not from a royal standpoint.”

“No, I want...They should know. It’s like you said: You shouldn’t have to dance around them.”

Uma scrutinized him in that way she had, then glanced at the glass doors leading out to the terrace where Adam and Belle were eating their lunch. “You want me to tell them?”

“I’ll do it.”

“Well, I got your back.” She grabbed his hand to emphasize her point, which was funny because holding hands was not a gesture that seemed to exist in the VK physical affection paradigm.

“Thank you,” he said genuinely, and led the way outside.

“Ben!” his mother greeted him brightly. “Will you be joining us for...?” 

She trailed off. His father turned around in his seat, to see why. And Ben turned, too, despite already knowing that Uma was the reason. He supposed he just wanted to look at her again. (At that moment, she was still adjusting to the sudden sunlight, holding her hand up like a visor to avoid the indignity of scrunching up her face.)

“Ahoy ahoy,” Uma said, with a mirthless smile.

“Got room for two?” Ben asked.

His father’s jaw tightened, as he took in their linked hands.

“I see two extra chairs,” Uma answered him, since no one else did.

“Great,” Ben said brightly, and started towards the spare seats.

“Belle, send for Fairy Godmother,” King Adam said in a dangerously even tone. “It looks like there’s been another love spell.”

“Dad,” Ben protested, but Uma cut in:

“No, no; that one’s fair. Let them run whatever magical tests they need, to be sure this isn’t another trick.”

“Oh, even if it isn’t a love spell, it is certainly a trick,” King Adam said, and now Uma tilted her head, as if merely curious to hear his logic. “Were you not the one who captured my son and tried to leverage him to steal the wand?”

“I am,” Uma confirmed, mildly. “A crime for which I was pardoned, because I was a minor at the time, and because it was ruled a desperate attempt to reverse the crimes against humanity that you committed, Your Ex-Highness, and of course because Ben never came to any harm in my care.” Her words were as quick and smooth as a slice from her sword, and like a wound that took a moment to bleed, it took a second for even Ben to notice the slight added stress to her last two words. The implications therein, that Ben had come to harm in his father’s care. Uma’s gaze was as unforgiving as the sea.

“I’m going to get Fairy Godmother,” Belle said, rising and sprinting for the door.

Uma watched her go with a lazy distaste, a wave receding.

Ben squeezed her hand, and just like that, she was anchored again, turning to him with a gaze that was warm instead of scalding. The affection that swelled in Ben’s heart as he met her eyes turned unceremoniously into a beast-like protective fury, when he glanced past her to see his father’s reaction.

All of his reasons for doing this suddenly seemed so far away; what justifications could he have ever formed for creating a situation where anyone looked at Uma like that?

...

(Okay, that’s what I’ve got. How was that, lol?)