#there might have been some slow mo action going on

[iamanartichoke]

That trope, mostly utilized in drama-themed media (specifically tv shows) where a character is looking at themselves in a mirror, or otherwise indicating they are talking to themselves, and trying to hype themselves up. Saying things like, "You've got one shot at this," or "No matter what happens, there's no turning back," and so on.

The background music is usually quiet with subtle yet dramatic undertones. Bonus points if the character is sweating, clenching their jaw/fists, or otherwise giving physical hints that they are about to Take On A Serious Situation.

And then it cuts out to show that the character is hyping themselves up to finally conquer their archnemesis: the toaster, or the newfangled espresso machine they've just bought, or they're about to attempt to finally fix the leaky pipe under the sink, or - basically any mundane (yet oddly challenging) task.

Variations on the trope include: a few people are in the room, so the camera occasionally pans to their serious expressions as they listen to the main character's "pep talk," or two characters are arguing about how to handle the situation - ("Damn it, we can't afford to get this wrong!).

Idk, no matter how often it pops up, I thoroughly get a kick out of it each and every time.

[findafight]

In my on going journey to find a fic where Jonathan and Nancy at least talk through if not fight about how Jonathan has been treating and lying to her, and the way she was looking at/flirting with Steve in s4 I have found that, with the majority of these few fics, Jonathan’s choice to not tell Nancy is framed as him being noble or making a sacrifice for her. That he is breaking up with her to avoid making her miserable.

This is fascinating to me because while I now think they should for sure break up, I went into st4 pretty neutral on jancy, and thought everything Jonathan was saying was cowardly. I think HE thinks he’s making some noble sacrifice for Nancy’s sake, but he is not letting Nancy know about it nor is he letting her decide what she wants (to stay with him or to breakup) based on the actual facts of what Jonathan is doing/will go for college. He’s just. Letting her wonder why he’s being avoidant and distant, worrying about weather he loves her still (which is partly why her eyes wonder in s4).

Jonathan isn’t breaking up with her. The whole point of his rant to argyle is that he ISN’T breaking up with Nancy. He’s avoiding her so he doesn’t “trap” her. He’s already lied to her about applying to the university she thinks they’re going to together and so he barely talks to her and starts they are in a “slow-mo breakup”. It seems like he is avoiding talking to her in the twisted hope that she breaks up with him, because he cannot bear to do it. He’s already trapping her in this relationship he’s so terrified of.

Nancy does not know what is going on in his head. All she knows is her boyfriend is avoiding her. Cancelling plans or calls. To the point where she thinks there is a possibility (however small) he might be cheating on her. That’s not a good place for a relationship to be! Why would she think what he has done is admirable and self sacrificial when she has been suffering due to his actions and choices and the assumptions he’s made about their relationship and future without asking her? Why would she feel he did what he thought was right when she has been kept in the dark and lied to, openly, and mislead about their supposed shared future plans? When he was too nervous to talk to her plainly about his worries and fears so instead let them dictate how he treated her.

Jonathan cannot be open and honest to Nancy because of his fears, but also because of that same fear he doesn’t rip the bandaid off. He cannot be the one to breakup with Nancy because if he is, he is definitely the bad guy. If he breaks up with her, he shatters any semblance of the idea that he is in the right, that he is making a sacrifice by not letting Nancy hypothetically make one. And he doesn’t want to examine himself or his actions that would make it abundantly clear what he’s done wrong.

By forcing Nancy into a position where she is unsure of the strength of their relationship, where she doesn’t have all the information to actually make the decision about the future he assumes she will make (that she is actually unlikely to make) he is doing what he fears he would be if he was honest about college. Trapping her in a relationship where they eventually grow to resent each other.

And idk. Im honestly surprised this isn’t a more widespread assumption? That Jonathan is being cowardly for lying? But it isn’t? Posing Jonathan refusing to communicate with his girlfriend as noble while she has actively questioned his loyalty to her, seems kind of cruel to Nancy. Sure maybe she hasn’t communicated enough to him, but has he let her? He is making these assumptions and decisions that impact their future together and he doesn’t discuss it with her because he doesn’t want to ruin her life (or, more likely, either remain in a LDR or get broken up with, the latter seeming more likely every day he lies.) That seems cowardly to me.

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Michael in the Mainstream: Top 100 Movies #100 - #76

For the longest time I've wanted to do something like this, but I never could find the right time to do it. It just seemed so daunting, and the website's image limit was a hindrance, and then my computer died and my wife's computer was all I could use... and then I went on my hiatus from doing major reviews. But I found some time, so here we go.

These are my hundred favorite films ever made, divided into fourths so each one can get an image and I can devote more time to gushing about them if I want to without feeling like I'm dragging things out.

Speaking if dragging things out, let us waste no more time! We have a hundred movies to go, so let's knock out the botom quarter!

100. Us

Jordan Peele’s sophomore effort gets a lot of shit that I feel is mostly undeserved. Sure, some of the over explaining at the climax is a bit clunky when taken at face value, but it almost feels like it’s by design, as if the movie is daring you to nitpick the premise so that you can ignore the message it’s trying to convey. For me, I find that the stellar themes, fantastic acting, and godly soundtrack manage to make up for any of this movie’s flaws.

99. Crimson Peak

Murder! Mystery! Ghosts! Incest! Leave it to Guillermo del Toro to craft a Gothic horror film this stylish and impressive! This might just be my favorite of his films, and I definitely think it is severely overlooked compared to the rest of his output.

98. Mandy

Nicolas Cage is one of my favorite actors of all time, because when he goes crazy it’s always fun, and when he’s dramatic he genuinely kills it. This film lets him do both,with the first half being a slow burn dramatic romance that ends in horrific tragedy, and the back half having him do demon drugs and get into a chainsaw duel while he murders an entire cult. Truly a beautifully insane film.

97. Scream

The film that both revitalized and ruined the slasher genre, with winking nods to the tropes that made those films what they are while also playing things just straight enough to be appealing. Only a genre master like Wes Craven could pull off a pitch-perfect satire like this, though none of it would be near as good if it didn’t have a great cast who were firing on all cylinders. Young Neve Campbell before she became a sellout, Matthew Lillard cementing his place in horror history, David Arquette and Courtney Cox in their prime, and Roger “Mojo Jojo” Jackson playing the iconic voice of Ghostface… They’re as crucial to this movie’s success as the meta winks and impressive kills are.

96. Jojo Rabbit

Taika Waititi made one bad superhero movie and then everyone turned on him as if he didn’t make the film that proves you absolutely could make Blazing Saddles in this day and age. While it’s neither as gut-bustingly funny nor as profane as Mel Brooks’ magnum opus, it’s still a very fun, funny, and heartbreaking satirization of Nazism. I think he’s allowed to make one Love and Thunder when he made something this good.

95. Akira

The movie with the coolest bike slide in cinematic history, and this is indisputable because every single movie and show with motorcycles in it borrowed that cool bike slide. This film does show its age a bit, but it’s still an awesome sci-fi showcase of animated action and body horror. Plus it’s just a lot of fun seeing Tetsuo and Kaneda spend at least half of their dialogue dramatically screaming each other’s names.

94. 300

I make fun of Zack Snyder a lot, but I do it out of love; the dude who made 300 has gotta be capable of doing better than his recent output, after all. Stylish, slick action and slow-mo put to good use showing an army of nearly naked macho men cutting down hordes of nasty bad guys… The fact I watched this movie so much as a teenager should’ve been the first hint I was bisexual.

93. Spider-Man: No Way Home

People are really fucking hard on the MCU Spidey, and not without reason, but sometimes it really comes off as disingenuous. Look at this film, for instance; it has gotten some flak for just being a cheap nostalgia circlejerk that uses cameos so you can clap and cheer and ignore the ‘plot holes.’ I cannot imagine being that miserable of a movie watcher. To me, this film is a tribute to the cinematic Spideys that came before while giving them some degree of closure that I never thought I’d see, while simultaneously bringing Holland’s take on the character closer to where he should be. It’s also really hard to hate a movie where Willem Dafoe gets to go Goblin Mode again and power bomb Tom Holland through several floors of an apartment, cementing him as comic book movie villain royalty once and for all. Are there cheesy moments, moments where things don’t make the most sense? Sure. But to focus on those bits instead of the core themes and how the characters are used is an awful way t do film criticism. The returning heroes and most of the returning villains are used very effectively to tell the story they wanted to tell, and most importantly they don’t overshadow Tom and his friends. The fact he stands toe-to-toe with Tobey Maguire and Andrew Garfield is nothing short of amazing, spectacular even.

92. The Lost Boys

Joel Schumacher died with one of the most unfairly earned infamous reputations around. Man made one campy superhero movie where you can see George Clooney’s nips and hear Arnold Schwarzenegger make ice puns and suddenly everyone forgets he made one of the greatest and most homoerotic vampire films ever made. While the stuff with the kids is very hit or miss, the stuff with David and his vampire biker gang is awesome, and the climax is one hell of a good time.

91. Barbie

Want to introduce your kids to feminist concepts but really don’t think they’re ready for Poor Things? Greta Gerwig has got you covered, with this pink-hued intro to feminism that uses the world’s most popular doll in a meta-narrative about her impact as well as what it means to be a woman and how the patriarchy is detrimental to both men and women. Margot Robbie gives a great performance as the titular heroine, but it is Ryan Gosling as the well-meaning idiot turned antagonist Ken that steals the show. It helps that he sings one of the most incredible, sincere power ballads ever written.

90. Street Fighter

As a connoisseur of cheesy, “so bad it’s good” films, quite a few of them have made my top 100. Here’s the first of those, this goofy Saturday morning cartoon of a film where the most American character ever (Guile) is played by the least American guy imaginable (Jean-Claude Van Damme). While it undeniably fumbles a lot of the cast of the game it’s adapting, Chun-Li and especially M. Bison are done so well it’s hard to be too mad. It’s a fun, stupid, silly 90s action film and sometimes that’s all I need.

89. Knives Out

After polarizing sci-fi audiences with his Star Wars film, Rian Johnson subverted our expectations by delivering a whodunnit for the ages. After seeing them restrained by blockbuster franchises for the better part of a decade, seeing Daniel Craig and Chris Evans really let loose again is a real treat.

88. Everything Everywhere All at Once

Twitter tries to convince me every other week that this movie is dogshit, but I ain’t buying it. This is one of the best uses of the multiverse in recent memory, using it to tell a stylish, silly, and heartfelt story about family and trauma. The entire cast is amazing, but it’s Ke Huy Quan in his big return to the silver screen that really steals the show.

87. The Texas Chain Saw Massacre

My favorite thing about this movie, this proto-slasher, is just how fucking unclean it makes me feel. It’s not overly violent or gory, but it is genuinely grimy and unsettling in a way few other horror films can match. The dinner scene near the end in particular is just so fucking unnerving. Just truly unmatched atmosphere with this movie.

86. Spaceballs

While I’m not going to argue that this is a better film than Blazing Saddles, I still enjoy it a lot more since I’m a bigger fan of Star Wars and sci-fi than I am of Westerns. It’s just a damn funny parody, and hoe can it not when it has some of the funniest people to ever live (Mel Brooks, Joan Rivers, Rick Moranis, John Candy) and a great heroic lead performance from Bill Pullman all delivering some of the silliest lines ever written?

85. RRR

This is basically live action historical fiction anime. These characters pull off some of the most insane feats of action I have ever seen, action that makes the average American action film look like Peppa Pig. But I would not give a shit if there wasn’t a strong emotional core; the two leads have a brotherly bond unlike anything I’ve ever, and it makes the action that much sweeter. Frankly, this movie would make the list just for the final battle alone, since it might be my favorite action scene of all time.

84. Strange Magic

This movie holds a very special place in my heart. I went to see this with my wife back when we first started dating, and at the time I was filled with anxiety and insecurity, worried that I wasn’t good enough and didn’t deserve a relationship among other things. I sat down to watch this, and when it got to the titular song, something clicked, and I felt secure. I felt like our relationship was the right thing, and all these years later it’s hard to deny I was right. So thank you to this cheesy jukebox musical inspired by Shakespeare and George Lucas’ desire to make a film for little girls. They will never convince me you’re a bad movie.

83. Princess Mononoke

Maybe Miyazaki’s Spirited Away is objectively better, but this is my favorite. I think it’s because this one is a lot more excitin and action-packed, with all sorts of thrilling setpieces interspersed with the quieter dramatic moments Miyazaki excels at.

82. Jurassic Park

One of Spielberg’s greatest achievements is bringing dinosaurs to life on the big screen. No matter how many times I sit down to watch this, I still feel the same awe the characters do when they lay their eyes on the dinosaurs—which really highlights how good the cast is, because they’re amazingly convincing even when they’re looking at dated 90s CGI.

81. Labyrinth

It’s David Bowie starring as the villain in a musical filled with puppets that’s directed by Jim Henson. How the fuck is it possible to not love this movie?

80. V for Vendetta

Yes, this does dumb down the politics of Alan Moore’s comic significantly and turns the story into a much more straightforward plot. But what it lacks in depth, it makes up for with Hugo Weaving and pyrotechnics. And it’s not like there’s no depth here; crucially, this film keeps the entirety of the prisoner’s letter sequence. If that was left out, I would not have liked this movie at all.

79. Wreck-It Ralph

It’s amazing how much Disney got right here that it would go on to get wrong over the next decade. We have a hidden twist villain, something that hampered later films… but he’s shown to be a dick, with the villain reveal being how evil he is. It’s a big crossover of nostalgic properties… but they’re more used as seasoning for a story about original characters. It’s just astonishing how Disney would end up dropping the ball, even in this film’s sequel, when they got everything right the first time.

78. Sin City

What’s black and white and red all over? This bloody brilliant adaptation of Frank Miller’s sleazy comics (and one of the last genuinely good things with his name attached to it). The visual style here is the real big selling point; it genuinely looks like the pages of a comic come to life. While the movie as a whole is fantastic and “The Big Fat Kill” segment is still really, “The Hard Goodbye” and “That Yellow Bastard” are the real highlights, the former because of a career highlight performance from Mickey Rourke and a terrifying villain turn from Elijah Wood of all people, the latter because of one of Bruce Willis’ finest performances of the 2000s and excellent use of slight splashes of color (yellow for the titular bastard).

77. Batman & Robin

As long as I live, this movie will have at least one defender. Joel Schumacher created a silly, campy comic book movie for the ages, and maybe back in the day people weren’t read for it… but I was. I love the ice puns, the nipples, the bat credit card, all of it! All of its silly, stupid corniness makes this as memorable as it is! It’s like the West show with a gigantic budget.

76. The Rocky Horror Picture Show

And speaking of camp, here is the cult classic. We can argue all day and all night whether this film has aged badly, but this was a huge step forward for queer cinema on top of being a damn good musical. If nothing else, this movie helped rocket Tim Curry into the stratosphere and made him the star we know him as.

[freensrcha]

GIF MAKING IN PS

i've never done anything like this before so hope it makes some kind of sense.

so before you get into making gifs first thing so will need is some sort of editing software (i use ps 2022) and some raws obviously. most of the shows i gif are on yt so its pretty easy to get them and you can use any kind of yt to mp4 converter.

so once you have all of this i guess we can get started!!! on a daily basis i do not follow all these steps because you can easily turn them into actions on ps, which means that it would take just seconds. so although it may look lengthy its pretty simple

the first step to making gifs is importing the raws. you first want to go to file>import>video frames to layer. this will open up your file explorer from where you can choose your desired file. you may want to make sure your file isn't an mkv one but an mp4 before you do this. also if your raws are large, perhaps a whole episode or longer than 30 minutes, it might help to trim it down beforehand to make it easier to work with.

once you select your file, this window will open up. here, you can move the sliders to select the exact part of the clip you want for your gifs. (when files are larger, it would be more difficult to capture smaller parts of the clip using the sliders) although optional, selecting the limit to every 'x' frames will help reduce the size of your gifs while not making it look too choppy. i do 'every 2 frames' for regular scenes and leave it unchecked for anything in slow-mo. more than 2 usually makes the entire thing look sped up and choppy so i wouldn't recommend it. although it depends on the raws ideally you want something around 80 frames for one gif.

once you press okay on the above step, your workspace will open up and from here we can start making the gif. the first step would be to set the time delay. this is two ensure that the gif doesn't look sped up. for this you want to first select all the frames as shown above.

next, you can click on the downward arrow on any frame to change the time delay. i usually prefer 0.07s which you can set in other...

once you've set the time delay, you have to convert the frames into timeline as shown above.

now that you have your timeline as seen on the left side, all you have to do is convert everything into a smart object. for that you have to first select all the layers using the shortcut Ctrl+Alt+A and then right-click on the layers followed by convert to smart object

now you can see that the many layers have been converted into one layer making it easier to work with. the next step is to resize the gif. the original dimensions would make the gifs too large to fit tumblr's size limit, this can be done by going to image>canvas size

to ensure that tumblr does unnecessarily crop your gifs you want to make sure width is always 540px if there's going to be only one gif in a row. the height can be anything depending how you want your gif to look.

you can adjust the gif onto the new canvas using Ctrl+T to transform the layer. always ensure the height and width are linked to make sure you don't squeeze the image weirdly.

after resizing the gif, i next sharpen the gif (which is my least favourite part). you can sharpen by going to filter>sharpen>smart sharpen while the noise filter is in filter>noise>add noise

although i don't always stick to the same sharpening, these are the settings i use the most.

once i'm done with the sharpening i like to soften the first smart sharpen filter. for this i change the blending option of the first filter to 80%. this is entirely optional.

once sharpening is done, you can colour and edit however you like using any of the adjustment layers. i mostly prefer curves and selective colour. these are the curves i used for this particular gif to remove the purple/redness it had going on. in RGB mode the white slider adds brightness and the grey one darkness/contrast. then you can individually use the red, green and blue modes to adjust the colours. i only used selective colour here to adjust the skin tones a bit so i haven't added that.

once done with colouring all you have to do is export the gif from file>export>save for web (legacy)

in the last window you have to make sure your looping is forever and that your gif is below 9.5MB. although tumblr says max gif size is 10MB, at least for me nothing over 9.5MB uploads.

and THAT'S IT (i say after a whole one page essay) your gif is ready!!! honestly i don't know if this is the easiest or most convenient method but this is just how i do it. also i use actions for everything other than colouring so it isn't as time consuming as it looks. you can also set shortcuts for importing and exporting to save time. this can be done from edit>keyboard shortcuts

since you made it to the end here is an extra bit on captioning

you want to start with a normal text layer and center it at the bottom of the gif. i use arial bold italic in size 16. next to make it look better we can add an outline and shadow to it through the layer style. and you can open up this window either by clicking the fx option at the bottom right or double-clicking the text layer.

these are the settings i use for the stroke as well as the shadow

now it is ACTUALLY the end!!!

[wangxianficfinder]

Fic Finder

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1. Hello! This is my first time doing this but do you happen to know a mdzs fic where yzy is jgs consort and the jiang sibs are his children? I just remembered it now and can't find it. This is jiang family bashing I think. Thank you very much!

FOUND? Could this one be “OOC!” by A_flower_in_the_snow that was reuploaded on Wattpad

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2. hello mods!! i am trying to find a fic that i know has been asked for before but i can't find any of those posts. dragon!wwx was courting lwj in both human and dragon form, lwj didn't realize they were the same and rejected human!wwx which wwx took as a rejection of both sides, and there was something about meddling elders. but wwx held onto a one-sided dragon bond so he knew when CR was attacked and flew there to protect it and got severely injured. please help!!

FOUND? flame and rust by cl410 (M, 34k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Happy ending, Dragon WWX, Fluff and Humor, Light angst)

FOUND? Of Skin and Scales by firesonic152 (E, 21k, WangXian, Dragon WWX, Pining, Slow Burn, Miscommunication, Explicit Sexual Content, Bottom LWJ, Interspecies Romance, Interspecies Sex, Size Difference)

FOUND? no other cloud compares to you by ectocosme (M, 125k, WangXian, ChengSong, Canon Divergence, Dragons, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Romance, Courtship, Slow Burn,Slow Build, Action, Identity Issues, Misunderstandings, Mistaken Identity, Kinda, Heartbreak, Getting Back Together, Angst with a Happy Ending, War, Violence, Mental Anguish) WWX courts LWJ in dragon form as also in his human form but LWJ mistakenly thinks the dragon (introduced as 'Mianlong') is a separate being and thinks human!WWX is not serious but only teasing so turns him down in "no other cloud compares to you" by ectocosme (must be signed into AO3 to read)

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3. hi again hehe<333 i would like to find a fic i read that i havent finished, the only things i remember are wangxian in an arranged marriage but live separately(not really sure), then lwj was forced to have a concubine which was wenqing, wei ying then leaves cloud recesses(not really sure if it happened) to live in yiling then he takes in xueyang and mo xuanyu and another lady who was pregnant. wenqing visits them to talk to wwx about lwj or something. amd then something like an ambush or war happens and wwx went to fight(?) when he returned to yiling he found out that the girl gave birth to twins but died. thats all i could remember sorry😅 oh and the reason why wq became lwj concubine was because of wrh pressuring gusu lan? i think? not really sure if its the same fic since ive read so many mdzs fics already hehe but anyways thank you for all the hard work!<333 enjoy your day!!!

FOUND? A Price To Pay by wangxianist (E, 116k, WangXian, XuanLi, Arranged Marriage, Prophecies and Curses, Angst with a Happy Ending, Accidental Baby Acquisition, warning for yzy’s f minus parenting, Cultivation Sect Politics, Family Drama, Canon Divergence, Explicit Smut)

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4. I’ve got another Fic Finder that, if answered, will fulfill a Mood/Compilation request—specifically Disabled Wangxian. This was a modern AU where we meet WWX as a young child with cerebral palsy; he had his canonical high intelligence and cheerful outgoing disposition; he signed, used a wheelchair, and loved Kirby.

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5. hi <3 i lost a fic that im pretty sure is quite popular, but i have no idea how to go about looking for it. all i remember is that a small thing changes, and then in the scene where teen lwj kneels beside wwx so they can both be punished, wwx jumps to cover him bodily, yelling something like 'no you wont hurt my lan zhan it wasnt his fault' (?) possibly maybe it was lxc pov?? it maaaay have had something to do with time travel?? (not wwx tho).. i really dont know :D thank you!! (Ugh, I swear I’ve read this fic at some point :’) ~Mod L)

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6. This one might be tricky because I don't remember if it was here on tumblr, on ao3, or a twitter fic. Basically, Lan Wangji snaps for Wei Wuxian to leave him alone during their studies at Cloud Recesses, and Wei Wuxian does, aware he's probably gone too far in his teasing. Naturally Wangji regrets this, but doesn't manage to patch things up before Wei Wuxian goes home. What there was was fairly short, but quite angsty.

FOUND? I believe 6 might be this twitter fic?

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7. Hello, I've been looking for a fic where cangse sanren was born as man and created a complex spell to change her body to that of a woman, and as a result from the this, wwx has a womb even though he has external reproductive organs of a male. I think jfm knew of the transformation csr did to her body.

FOUND? Until The End by abCEE (M, 365k, wangxian, LWJ & LSZ & WWX, established relationship, communication, mpreg, good uncle LQR, BAMF JYL, canon-typical violence, LSZ is wangxian’s son, WWX has new golden core, fix-it of sorts, canonical character death (WWX), happy ending)

FOUND? 🧡Like Rabbits by Setari (T, 41k, WangXian, Kid fic, Canon rewrite, Mpreg, Miscarriage scare, Crack treated seriously, Hopeful ending)

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8. Hello I'm just wondering if you can find this ao3 fic wherein wwx didn't died on the cliff but got saved and lived a life with another identity because he has amnesia also he and lwj has a son which is lan yuan and no one died in that fic jiang yanli is alived

FOUND? Until The End by abCEE (M, 365k, wangxian, LWJ & LSZ & WWX, established relationship, communication, mpreg, good uncle LQR, BAMF JYL, canon-typical violence, LSZ is wangxian’s son, WWX has new golden core, fix-it of sorts, canonical character death (WWX), happy ending) The amnesia bit comes somewhere around chapter 17ish

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9. Hi ! I was wondering if you guys could help me find a fic, it’s about lwj accidentally killing wwx in nightless city but then both of them get transported back into the past in cloud recesses arc. wwx avoids lwj all the time in the beginning. it’s a really angsty one but in the end they still end up together. tysm for your help !! @makkachiin​

FOUND! 💖 Regrets by antebunny (G, 37k, wangxian, canon divergence, temporary character death, miscommunication, misunderstanding, time travel fix-it, angst w/ happy ending, fluff, hurt/comfort)

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10. Hello pls help I’m looking for a fic I read and lost where Wwx is kept as a prisoner of war in the unclean realm after saving the wens and jgy threatens him so he’s like all by himself and falls into a real bad depression?? Thank u so much for all u do 💕💕💕💕💕💕 @bmgh-writing​

FOUND! Always walked a very thin line by tucuxi (T, 22k, NHS & WWX, JYL & WWX, wangxian, depression, anxiety, everyone lives au, except JZXun & JGS, self-worth issues, slow burn, oblivious WWX, golden core reveal, chronic pain & illness, pining)

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11. Hi! I'm looking for a fic that was like a video game tutorial. The game covered the events up to WWX's death, and there was some dating sim element. LWJ was obviously not an available target, but LXC and NHS were. The player could participate in killing WWX, and I think the tutorial said how this was super difficult.

Towards the end of the tutorial/fic, there was a part 2 published that covered the events after WWX's death, and if the player was close to/dating NHS he'd confide in her after his brother's death. If the player lived in Cloud Recesses because she bought a house there or was married to LXC, then she might meet A-Yuan, but only if she didn't participate in WWX's death, because otherwise LWJ would never let her see his son.

Hope someone can find it, and thank you! @pasmika

FOUND! Grandmaster of Cultivation: Walkthrough and Guide by athylia (Not rated, 4k, wangxian, social media, rpg au, dating sim au, romance)

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12. Hello! Im looking for a wangxian fic where lwj was married to yiling patriarch in exchange for help in the war by the lan clan. I dont remember if wwx was a god or just powerful, but he watched and cared for the wens. It was a multi chapter fic and slow burn. I remember they went to a festival at some point and wwx would give small gifts and theyd eat dinner together sometimes. The main thing i remember tho is that lwj was given his own home and in it was a koi pond that hed take care of and really liked. I think lwj also wrote his brother letters

FOUND? This sounds a lot like 💖 love, in fire and blood by cicer (E, 360k, wangxian, immortal WWX, slow burn, pining, arranged marriage, Mojo’s post)  

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13. Hi im trying to find a cute wx fic that takes place during lan student arc. The only thing i remember is one scene which is where i think lwj took the blame for something so he was being caned but wwx showed up, admitted his fault, then started to be caned too. Then both of them confessed to each in front of everyone watching while receiving punishment. I think it all occurred from a misunderstanding. I remember it being a funny fic and ive been trying to find it

FOUND! Pygmalion by syrus_jones (T, 18k, wangxian, crack treated seriously, fluff, humor, angst w/ happy ending, gremlin WWX, repressed LWJ, first kiss, confession, pining, misunderstandings, comedy of errors, WIP)

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14. Hey ! This request is for the ficfinder : I don't remember the title but WWX was a Wen and CSR was WRH's sister. WWX was also the heir to the Wen throne. LJY was LWJ's adopted son and after the burning of CL, when they were bring the Lans etc WWX took LWJ to Nightless City and married him. And at the end of the story it was revealed that LQR, YZY and maybe the Nie and Jin sect leader time travelled. And maybe CSR did too. And yes, WX became the boyfriend if NMJ. After everything was over WWX and LWJ ruled together as equals. I loved this story but i can't seem to find it again. Please help me here ! Thanks for your precious time :) @purhplet09

FOUND! To the Heavens and the Earth by IsilmeLasgalen (E, 77k, WangXian, NingSong, XuanLi, MingXu, ChengYu, WWX is a Wēn, Marriage of Convenience, Accidental Marriage, Implied Mpreg, Time Travel, Canon Divergence, CSSR and WCZ Live, Cultivation Sect Politics, Bottom LWJ, Top WWX, Good Person WRH, Immortal WangXian, POV LXC, Mpreg, WangXian Get a Happy Ending, Emperor WWX, Emperor LWJ, Past WWX/Other(s), Everybody Lives, Fluff, Angst, Smut, LWJ is LJY's Parent)

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15. Hiya! First of all, thank you for all your hard work - I can't imagine how much organisation this blog takes!

I am looking for a very specific fic - wangxian, xuanli at the very least - takes place post-Sunshot. At one point (I believe during the Phoenix Mtn hunt) someone targets JXN but force-feeding his dog a magic core stone which causes it to grow into a massive dog yao and WWX and JXN have to fight it off together. Later one of JXN's other dogs is force-fed a core stone while a whole load of cultivators are trapped in a building and JXN has to stick his hand in its mouth to pull the stone out. Pretty sure JGY and SMS were behind all the plots/shenanigans.

(Sorry, I can't remember much more, but I just have this very specific scene stuck in my head.) @katonahottinroof​

FOUND! ❤️ a stone to break your soul, a song to save it by rikke (M, 180k, wangxian, Canon Divergence, arranged marriage)

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16. hello im looking for this fic it's a fix-it i think. the scene i remember is wwx is trying to get lwj to leave and he tries to say he doesn't love lwj but lwj gets angry and is like don't insult me by lying to me and telling me you don't love me. a big thank you for all that you do bc this is where i get old lost fics and new ones too!

FOUND! ❤️ Standing Engagement by x_los (M, 18k, wangxian, misunderstandings, accidental engagement, sunshot campaign, golden core reveal, accidental relationship, WQ lives, everyone lives au, Mojo’s post)

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17. Hiii sorry I don't know how this works. But I am looking for this one specific fic I believe it was more than a one-shot. From what I remember was that LWJ was obsessive and WWX was oblivious LWJ killed I think a friend of WWX at midnight at school and tried to cover up the body. A girl who WWX flirted with constantly and who LWJ threaten to stay away from WWX found him and the body at the bathroom of the school and LWJ threaten her to help him cover the body. The next thing I remember is he is stalking WWX and I believe WWX somehow ended up in LWJ's house there is banging from the basement and LWJ is acting suspicious then he cooks food for WWX then makes a joke about the food being JC and throughout WWX stay he hears banging in the basement and he tells LWJ and he lies about it and he goes to the basement to find out that I believe it was JC who was tied up and they tried to escape but WWX stayed behind that all I can remember. thank you @kawaiiskeletonlamphero

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18. Hello I don't know if this is where to post to find a fic but I'll try anyway.

I cant remember much plot wise but I'll give a brief run down of what I can recall.

It's a wangxian fic with wei ying being the bottom. There is mpreg but I'm not sure it's is omegaverse or not. There is a suprise reveal later after the pregnancy is announced that wei ying is pregnant with TRIPLETS. I think lan zhan or lan qiren faint when this is revealed. Pretty sure it's a happy ending fic.

Sorry it's not much to go on but it's all I can remember. @sumzie

FOUND? Littlest Miracles by Vrishchika (M, 5k, wangxian, dragon wangxian, established relationship, mpreg, tenderness, fluff, not JC friendly, noodle babies)

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19. Okay so I have another fic finder, whenever you're able to get to it! All I remember was that it was the beginning of the cloud recesses lectures and, instead of sneaking in and getting into a romantic sword fight under the moonlight with his soul mate, wwx is already a little drunk and instead ends up slipping while climbing the wall and falling on his head. Lwj finds him immediately and wwx has a very serious head injury and so has to spend some time in the infirmary. I think there was some stuff that happened after he healed, and he and lwj were together soon enough. I'm pretty sure it was an au that only took place in the lectures? At least I don't remember it delving into any of the war stuff. I know that it was complete though! I've tried a few different tags, but I've had no luck so far. Thank you in advance!! @suibian800 (I'm pretty sure I know what fic this is but I forgot the name, LWJ had to do an ancient technique to save WWX by connecting their qi and spent the rest of the fic trying to restrain himself from "side-effects" (horny thoughts), right? - Mod C)

Yes!!! I'm almost 100% sure the fic I'm looking for also had the mind connection thing. And wwx fully accepted that he'd fallen in love with lwj but lwj thought it was just the connection and was determined to break it. I think he avoided wwx even after that too maybe??? I don't really remember how it ended 😂 but I'm pretty sure it was happy ending!! (If it is indeed the fic I am thinking of, then I am pretty sure they "pretend" to be in love before LWJ gets the connection removed and then it ends with LWJ showing up in lotus pier and kissing WWX, wish I could also remember the name for you 🥲) - Mod C)

FOUND! All at Once It's You by tiptoe39 (E, 28k, WangXian, Accidental Bonding, Love Curse, AU: No Plot Happens, The Wens Are Not Evil, Gusu Lan Summer School, CQL Universe, But I Stole a Scene from the MDZS Novel, JC is a Supportive Brother????, There is One (1) Sex Scene, Like Nie Huaisang It Is Just There to Make Up the Numbers, Qi Does What I Want It to Do So There, Internalized Homophobia) (I'm pretty sure I found it! This is the one right? - Mod C)

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20. Hi Mods! Thank you so much for all the you are doing :)

I am trying to find this fic where Jiang Cheng does the soul summoning after Jin Ling is killed by JGY? or something. WWX is very angry and tears into all the sect leaders including NHS. Hope you can help me find it. Thanks!

FOUND! The Day's Relentless Light by donutsweeper ( T, 1k, WangXian, Canon Divergence, Lots of People Die, Canon-Typical Violence, Revenge, Non-Mo Xuanyu Summoning Ritual, Worse Timeline, Character Death, Dark)

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[strawbrygashez]

More p1/p3 hcs bc I still don’t have the energy to make them a fic yet 😔

•When it gets closer to summer or just around a time it gets hotter out in general, P3 will cut P1s hair for him. P1 usually did it himself but one year he just kept putting it off until p3 offered to do it for him. Since then he does it for him. They never go too short. P3 knows exactly what p1 likes done with his hair eventually.

•The other postal dudes are happy for them. Especially for p1 bc whenever they visit they can tell p1 seems to be getting happier & more relaxed :) his life seems to be improving in general. They are also glad that p3 has become (just slightly) less of a asshole over time. Both p2 & p4 tease them both a bit though saying shit like “ ;) you guys been practicing self love??”

• p3 loves coming home to champ and P1 after a long day of working (or whatever he got himself tangled up in). The first thing he does when he gets back is go “honey I’m home :D” or if he can already see p1, he’ll try to ‘crash’ on him. Like if he’s sitting on the couch watching tv, he’ll just plop down and lay across his legs. Or if he’s standing, he will hug him from behind and watch whatever P1s doing. (this is all of course if p1 is okay with being touched in the moment)

• Most days before he leaves for his chores or whatever, he has made it a habit to grab P1s face and ‘annoyingly’ kiss him all over before telling him he loves him. P1 half heartedly tries to shove him away or just lets him do whatever if he’s too tired to fight it.

Slight angst here. I feel like p3 has a very slight fear that one day something might happen to himself bc he’s always getting into dangerous situations (without meaning to or not) and doesn’t wanna think about how much that would scare p1. Also p3 (more so toward the beginning of their relationship) is sometimes a bit worried to leave p1 alone all day bc he’s came home to p1 having panic attacks or breakdowns before. But he learns to trust p1 more or whateva after some time passes.

•If p3 comes home with new wounds p1 patches them up. And likewise if p1 has new (possibly self inflicted) wounds p3 will help him as well. P3 is more likely to act like he’s completely fine after getting a pretty bad wound and wants to go about the rest of his day like he usually does so p1 has to remind him to take it easy and sit the hell down!!! Smh.

• They both like the same kinda music. P3 likes country music though and p1 is a little 😬 about that. He likes the slower romantic country songs though. (This is a cringe, too soft thought to add here but, they would maybe try to slow dance to one of P1s favorites if they both drank or something but p3 keeps stepping on P1s toes and his hands keep ‘accidentally slipping’ lower 🙄🫤)

•They both have no shame when it comes to walking around with hickeys and both of them go after each other’s necks so 😳😳😳

P1 has learned if he wears his hair up he’s more likely to- 🤭🤭🤭

•p3 tries to support whatever p1 is into or has a special interest in. He will get him things related to it or he will listen to him talk about it any time he wants to talk about it. P1 takes notice of things p3 is into too and loves hearing about whatever he likes. It also really helps if he needs something to distract him.

•They share their gloves :)

•They share their sunglasses too. They honestly gotten theirs mixed up at some point and just never really cared since. (Unless one is prescribed??? But tbh both need prescribed ones) if something happens where they are both out and one of their glasses breaks, the other will not give up on trying to make the other one wear their glasses until they get home/can get a new pair. Ends up in a slight argument :/

• Once or twice they’ve sat on top of buildings or whatever together at night and held each other 🏳️‍🌈👨‍❤️‍👨👨‍❤️‍💋‍👨 p3 knows some really cool and interesting spots to take him since he’s out so much.

• They both prefer cartoons than live action kinda stuff. P3 is more willing to watch either though. But both already have so much going on in their lives that they’d rather just relax and watch something fun at the end of the day.

•I’m gonna be silly and goofy in this last one and say that p1 initiated the first kiss. He thought p3 wasn’t into him back for a moment because p3 didn’t kiss him back but it was really bc p3 was like ‘🤖💨?!’ and a lot more bashful then you’d expect him to be

[novankenn]

Excerpts from "Monster"

This will most likely be the last of these "excerpts". See my post "ANNOYED" for a sort of reason why I'm doing this... besides that fact I wanted to show how EPIC the battle for Atlas could have been.

The Battle for Atlas...

(Chapter 16) “Mayday, Mayday, Mayday. Nevermore engine strike!”

“Jackal Three, break off! Limp back to base!”

“Lost starboard engine, going down. Repeat going down.”

“Jackal three pull up! Pull up!”

“See you on the other side, guys.”

“Give 'em hell, Jackal three.”

The CDS bit her lip as she listened to the chaotic radio chatter and watched the perimeter wall camera feeds. She watched as a crippled A-10 nosedived into the closing mass of grimm, its hydraulic Gatling continuously firing. The high calibre rounds tore through the grimm followed by the body of the aircraft slicing into the horde before bursting into a ball of fire. It wasn't the first time they had witnessed such an act. The video recordings would be full of such repeated sacrifices, not counting the guaranteed countless times similar actions unfolded out of the range of cameras. 

“Horde is with in four thousand metres of the wall, sir.”

Everyone in the command centre has been watching a listening for several hours now, as the entire weight of the Atlas armed forces dropped literal tonnes of varied ordnance on the encroaching mass of darkness. As the grimm wave approached, the air above was a war-zone. Air burst rounds tore through aerial grimm, as a veritable current of lead scythed through the air. The smaller forms of grimm were shredded, while some of the larger species resisted, and unleashed their own weapons upon the beleaguered defenders.

She continued to watch and listen as the men and women of the Atlas military threw themselves into the defence of their home. 

“Close In Weapon Systems are running dry, sir.”

“Command, this is Angel One.”

“Copy Angel One.”

“Commencing drop in three... two... one. Drop!”

“All air forces, FAEs inbound. Withdraw to the wall and take a holding pattern. Repeat FAEs inbound. Withdraw to wall.”

The CDS leaned forward, her knuckle going white with her grip on the railing before her. She watched the feeds with bated breath. Over the multiple feeds she watched as the parachute slowed drum like weapons closed on the closing tide of beasts. Each container burst just above the grimm filling the air white clouds of dust particles. A couple of seconds later, a flash. The ensuing fireballs vaporized the grimm at the epicentre of each denotation, as the shock wave tore those just outside the blast radius into shreds. 

“Status.”

“Estimated casualties, thirteen percent of current calculated mass. Horde undeterred, and still closing, sir.”

“Get the air strips cleared for the bomber's turn and rearm. Sorties will continue. Target the mid and rear of the horde. Recommence A10 runs and authorize Aerial bombardment from all available units.”

“To all on station Wyverns... Bring the Rain. Repeat... Bring the Rain.”

“The AAS Momentous is on station, sir.”

“Good, let's see how these fuckers handle a salvo of sixteen inchers.” the CDS snarled as she watched the closing grimm getting railed by air based artillery. “Issue the order. Might Mo fire for effect.”

“Momentous, this is command. Fire for effect. Repeat... Fire for effect.”

/=/

“Captain, fire for effect order from command, sir.”

“It's showtime, Mighty Mo! Traverse all turrets to starboard. Adjust roll to twenty degrees starboard down.”

“Aye, sir.”

Holding a position well above the frantic dogfight between masses of aerial grimm and Atlean fighter-craft. The gigantic, and majestic icon of the Atlean air-naval forces moved. Three topside mounted turrets, each fitted with three sixteen-inch guns, pivoted into firing position. As the various underside mounted emplacements continued to rain flack and air bursts into the grimm swarm below.

“All turrets reporting ready, sir.”

“Distance from wall.”

“Command is reporting thirty-five hundred metres, sir.”

“Adjust angle. Target mass at forty-five hundred metres from the wall.” he drummed his fingers on his console. His eyes studying the video feeds, and tactical data playing across the main screens. “Fire.”

The ship superstructure shook and creaked as nine massive artillery guns discharged at once. The captain and his bridge staff watched and waited as the massive one thousand two hundred kilo shells cut across the distance between the Momentous and the targets far below.

“All turrets reporting ready, sir.”

“Fire.”

For a second time, in the span of a minute, the recoil from the nine massive guns shook the ship. Below in the middle of the grimm host, multiple explosive impacts disintegrated the gimm with in the blast radius, with a secondary effect of shrapnel and debris tearing chunks through the surrounding horde, causing some of the smaller species to literally burst in a shower of ink black fragments.

“All turrets reporting ready, sir”

“Fire.”

/=/

“Three thousand metres! Okay, you bastards, lock and load!”

All along the top of the wall, sniper teams pulled back bolts and slapped in magazines, while heavy, medium and light machine-gunners cocked their weapons. 

“Ready!” shouts rippled along the firing line.

“Anti-material, what is our code?” the commanding officer screamed through the comm system.

“One shot, one kill, send the fuckers to hell!”

“Fire! Fire! Fire!”

All around him, muzzle flashes burst to life, as triggers were squeezed. 50 BMG rounds ripped through the air at hypersonic speeds. The shooters and spotters watched through scopes as the armour piercing rounds struck home. Neat, one-inch diameter holes surrounded by cracks appeared in the armoured heads of the Megoliaths. Each one struck convulsed for a second before dropping dead to the ground, the insides of their massive heads liquefied. 

“Fast movers incoming!” came multiple feeds.

The commander watched as a staggered line of small grimm burst past the lumbering lines of the larger Megoliaths.  He kept his hand on the touchpads on his throat, waiting to bark the command for the machine gunners to open up.

“Twenty-five hundred!” came multiple spotter calls.

“Chew them up! Suppressing fire!” he barked through the comm system.

Along the top of the wall, various calibres of automatic fire filled the air. Lines of snaking tracers gouged the group and riddled the charging lines of sabyr. Spurts of dirt and grimm flesh popped into the air as brass casings rained upon the hardened cement. Behind the onrushing grimm more Megoliaths dropped as the anti-material teams kept up the pressure.

/=/

“Horde is closing. Main mass with in three thousand metres. Supplementary mass of fast movers with in twenty-five hundred metres. Suppressing fire initiated. Closing on minefield, sir.”

“Order all on ground troops to prepare for breech. Activate knight units, and warn all still active aircraft to prep for danger close operations.”

“Fielding reports of anti-air faltering. Causality of fighter forces at forty-five percent. On the ground, air defence causality rates at thirty-six percent. Multiple structure fires, and possible collateral causalities, sir.”

“All active air fields are reporting as compromised, sir.”

“Order withdraw. All combat capable units to dig in. Defend emergency shelters and vital infrastructure.”

"CIWS defences are down. No ammo alerts across the board, sir.”

“Ignore them. All units to dig in and defend.”

Her eyes never left the video feeds as she uttered her commands. The advance line of grimm had rapidly closed and were now crossing the two hundred metre wide perimeter minefield. The beasts were close enough that the camera could clearly see the after effects of the Bouncing Bettys, and Telermines activating. Pieces of grimm flew into the air with the bursts of dirt and rock. The waist high detonations of the Bettys throwing flesh shredding ball bearings and metal shards into the flanks of the passing sabyrs. It was a massacre, yet the mindless hatred driven beasts continued forward.

/=/

“Air defence is failing. Mayday calls escalating. All tankers declaring empty, sir.”

“All air-carriers at capacity, AAS Enterprise declaring her own fuel emergency, sir.”

“Knights now engaging hostiles. Currently, at ninety percent combat capacity, sir.”

“All on ground forces, and hunters not actively defending civilian shelters to redeploy to nearest air fields. Eliminate all hostiles and get those fields open!”

“Hostile fast movers closing on wire defences. Hostile heavies crossing minefield, sir.”

“Status, knight units.”

“Combat capacity, eighty-five percent, sir.”

“Order wall units to mask up.” she waited until she received confirmations that the order had been passed and received. “Deploy the gas.”

The camera feeds showed only the closing grimm horde, when suddenly tendrils of yellow-brown vapours drifted towards the closing lines of grimm. Everyone watched as the sinister looking tendrils coiled about the air and slowly started to weave about the grimm. Everyone in the command and control centre knew they had just poisoned the lands surrounding Mantel's walls. Shoulders started to slump as it appeared the chemical attack had turned from something of possible hope, in to an in vain desperate ploy.

“Nerve agents ineffective, sir.”

“Fuck.” the CDS swore. The gamble had been a failure, but then the grimm line began to falter. The massive megoliaths stopping and starting to twist and shake their bodies violently, as if trying to dislodge something clinging to their bodies. Below them the charging saybres writhed. Rolling around on the ground.

“HD agents are effective. Grimm horde has stalled its approach, sir.”

“Mortars, and Short range missile batteries. Target main line. Danger close.”

She watched the feeds, suppressing the shiver as she watched the obviously suffering creatures. The Vytal Treaty had outlawed the use of chemical weapons. All signatories had been instructed to dismantle and dispose of all stockpiles. Yet here she was putting it out for the world to discover that Atlas had ignored those clauses. Shortly after the order multiple explosions erupted through the horde, as an uncountable number of surface to surface missiles and mortar shells crashed into the ground. Slightly above came multiple bursts. A heavy white powder falling onto the suffering beasts, instantly causing them to violently convulse, many dropping to the ground. Flames licked the ground, and suddenly an massive blast ripped through the lines, the shock-wave knocking several of the wall cameras feeds out.

“We have combustive denotation of the HD gas, sir.”

“Keep up bombardment, and suppressing fire. Alert all Mantel based squads of eminent breach.”

/=/

“Keep it up. Melt the fucking tubes boys!” order the commander as she relayed the orders from command. “Give the soulless bastards a taste of Willy Pete!”

All around her multiple mortar squads pushed themselves and their equipment. Normally they did thirty rounds per minute, but spurred on by their commander's orders, and the pressing threat from the mass of darkness closing on their homes and families; they pushed. Dropping rounds down tubes as soon as the previous round left.

Not far behind them, the M270s lowered their launch platforms as crews raced to reload. All the teams were on edge. Willing to push themselves to exhaustion and beyond. The more ordnance they dropped onto the grimm mass, the fewer that could reach the walls and if they were lucky. If they pushed their bodies to the full extent of training; maybe, just maybe, they could break the threat before that could happen.

/=/

“We have a feed and an all clear from strip foxtrot-tree, sir.”

“What?” Put it up on the main feed now.”

The main screen shifted, to a shaking gun feed. Everyone in the command centre watched, eyes wide, as a single figure stood exposed on the tarmac. Shredded grimm fragments, disintegrating as they rained from the sky. The figure didn't move and inch. He didn't flinch, just stood there, his head moving slightly every so often, as wave upon wave of grimm met gruesome ends. Bodies bisected, headless and ripped apart vanished into the air. The larger corpses crashing into the ground. The combined smoky evaporation starting to form a smoke screen, obscuring the end of the runway.

“Coordinate with Foxtrot-tree. I want every flight capable fighter down, refuelled, rearmed and back in the air. Draw ground crews and supplies from any nearby ammo dumps, or compromised air strips, AND I want more strips cleared! Once the fighters have rotated out, focus on getting the tankers down and restocked. Holding patterns for all aircraft with sufficient fuel.”

“Those that unable to?”

“Bail over Mantel, and ditch into the grimm. There is a light at the end of this tunnel, and it's not a fucking train.”

[majorbaby]

we might want some joy or victory by the end of ‘glass onion’ and that’s what we get - sort of.

major spoilers beneath cut

andi is dead. helen still lost her sister, who it sounds like she'd drifted apart from in the years leading up to her death, as andi chose to ‘see the good’ in a group of shitheads who eventually turned their back on her. And who would have continued to lie even to cover up her murder had helen not ended the main source of their wealth. Which, btw, is weirdly* framed as a redeeming moment for said shitheads, despite the fact that had miles not been ruined by helen’s actions, they wouldn’t have turned their back on him, even with the knowledge that he’d murdered andi and stood to kill even more people by letting a dangerous project move forward. nothing happens that indicates to me that they won’t just latch onto the next golden teat they can find and make all the same immoral decisions again. 

*not that weird, done intentionally i think. the movie really walks a fine line trying to make the shitheads (~the disrupters~) condemnable while still somewhat likeable - i think we are to believe that that these might be good people who have fallen prey to the allure of wealth so as to not be too alienated by them. duke fits the stereotype of the guy that terminally online liberals love to hate - deeply insecure, red-pill-conspiracy-theorist-shilling, cuck-fantasy-having beefcake - and that’s why he gets the on-screen death. as an audience, we might raise our eyebrows if it was instead lionel or claire or birdie who dies.

it isn't intended to be a downer ending, because helen does get her revenge and what a cathartic moment it is to see miles' empire destroyed by her and the curtain pulled back on miles’ hip prodigy persona by blanc - something that is lightly foreshadowed very early on during the zoom call between lionel and the board. i like that the implied to be morally grey ‘eccentric genius’ character (miles) turns out to be exactly what the board suspects he might be: a dick. 

helen is right all along when she says “But I knew who they were, and I told her what they were. Shitheads” (she is still right about this by the end, even though, as i said, the movie does try to soften the other characters) when even blanc gives miles too much credit, assuming that he (miles) wouldn’t be stupid enough to kill andi. 

back to what i meant for this post to be about: i understand why this movie wants to be a happy ending, but it isn’t. there’s catharsis, there’s revenge, there’s a badass slow-mo sequence of helen burning down the old boy’s club rather than joining its ranks - which is the mistake that andi makes that ultimately gets her killed. there’s a fun, brief exchange between blanc and helen. there’s the final shot where we’re meant to understand that helen is the mysterious, priceless, wondrous, never duplicated (despite being an identical twin) work of art, the mona lisa - a modest third-grade teacher from alabama, grieving her sister. 

it’s a movie. it’s a fun movie and the audience, myself included, has a certain expectation of this kind of story. but we actually do see the more plausible ending to this story - the bad guy wins - on two occasions:

first, when andi loses the company. duke lays this out pretty well when andi/helen asks for “the truth” and he tells her, ”you’re the loser” - which is truer than he realizes because he doesn’t know that andi is dead. she had the evidence in her hand to win back her company and it didn’t help her at all, it just gets her killed. perhaps she would’ve died sooner if she’d been able to find it before the court case. 

and a second time: after helen/andi summons incredible courage to go to the extreme lengths it takes for her to find the piece of evidence that will this time not only prove that andi was cheated, but also implicate miles in andi’s and duke’s respective murders. that is, until miles burns it up before her very eyes, which, tbh, i think she should’ve been prepared for, because he’d already killed two people to try to stop that evidence from coming to light. 

those are the true, bleak endings. you can have all the facts and evidence on your side, you can be objectively in the right, you can be ethically in the right, you can be right in the eyes of the law and the eyes of god - but the rich and the powerful hold all the cards and everything is stacked against you. they write the rules and then they move the goal posts when they’ve been outplayed. nothing short of burning the whole stadium down can get you the win, and even if you do win, you still lost something invaluable, that can never be replaced. 

[eirian-houpe]

Harm's Way - Chapter 4

Fandom: Stargate Atlantis Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Teyla Emmagan/Michael Kenmore Characters: Michael Kenmore, Teyla Emmagan, John Sheppard, Ronon Dex, Rodney McKay, Radek Zelenka, Samantha "Sam" Carter, Evan Lorne, Kanaan (Stargate), Jennifer Keller, Todd the Wraith (Stargate), Steven Caldwell, Original Stargate Wraith Character(s), Original Stargate Character(s) Additional Tags: Angst, Kidnapping, Action, Canon-Typical Violence, Drama, Hybrids, Pregnancy, Interspecies Romance, Slow Romance, Other Additional Tags to Be Added Series: Part 1 of SGA Virtual Season Five Summary:

With Colonel Sheppard's team still trapped in what remains of Michael's compound, and Teyla in Michael's hands, Colonel Carter must hurry to rescue them before the game of 'Lantean in the middle' takes an even more deadly turn with the arrival of the Wraith, led by a new and vicious queen, and her too-familiar scientist.

Read previous chapters on AO3

Harm's Way - Act 4

Ronon ducked and covered the side of his head with his arm as the low flying Dart exploded into a ball of flaming pieces that came hurtling his way. When the heat no longer scorched the air around his head he looked over at Carter, and at the smoking tube she still balanced on her shoulder and said, "You might want to try using those things when the Darts are a little further away next time."

He was teasing, and it was good natured. His spirits had lifted a little since the arrival of the additional ordnance. They were still hard pressed by the Wraith, but at least now they were able to take out some of the Darts that came at them. It was starting to cut down on the numbers of Wraith on the ground, as they were unable to beam them in, and that meant his people were getting closer to their objective.

Beside him, Carter turned and grinned at him and then dropped the missile launcher beside her and snatched up her P90 ready to take on the Wraith warriors already bearing down on their position.

Ronon glanced at the groups of marines fighting around them; still fighting in close quarters with the Wraith, and others further out, still filling the air with the rattle of their weapons as they sought to keep the rest of the Wraith from joining in the hand to hand combat. It wasn't going to be easy.

He sighed as another pair of Darts flew overhead taking advantage of the break in the firing of ground to air missiles, and beamed in two more groups of Wraith warriors, before shaking the ground with the thunderous explosions of their incoming strafing runs toward the 'Gate.

"Come on, Sheppard," he said under his breath, and looked to the sky as if the Colonel would hear him. "Where's this better idea of yours?"

"They're going to come after you," McKay finally opened his mouth to voice the thought that had been going through his mind as long as he had been watching Michael move around the laboratory, silently engaged in his work. Michael straightened up from the instrument he was working with, his back straight, head tilted at an angle as though he was considering the words, but he did not offer an answer. "You won't get away with this, you know that."

"Then what would you have me do, Doctor McKay, surrender?"

"Well, it's an option," McKay tried, "I mean—"

Michael turned from his work then to fix him with a serious expression as though he was unsure if McKay expected him to believe him. He watched the succession of memories pass across Michael's face, barely perceptible but for the deepening of the frown and the darkening of his pupils. It wasn't long before McKay realized he had misspoken.

"—Right… yeah," he said quickly, "Maybe not."

"Once. Perhaps," Michael said as he crossed the room toward him, surprisingly calmly for the fire of anger that Rodney could see burning coldly in his eyes. "There had been the option of working together with your Atlantis expedition, but I think you realize as well as do I that it will never happen. Not any more."

McKay watched him, hawk-like as he reached for the clip on the line leading into the cannula and flicked it closed. Even knowing what Michael was about to do, McKay still flinched when he turned and picked up a sharp scalpel from a nearby instrument tray.

"You will not be harmed, Doctor, so long as you cooperate. I have given my word to that." He froze as Michael slipped the scalpel beneath the bandage that secured the drip into his arm, and began to cut the bandage away, still watching Michael's every move. "And I am certain that I can find… some role for you within my army."

"And what makes you think that I'll cooperate," McKay said, flinching only slightly as Michael withdrew the needle from his arm and secured a gauze pad into place.

"I can be..." Michael looked up into his eyes then, and Rodney couldn't help but swallow at the expression he saw, "very persuasive. As well you're aware."

"At this stage, Michael, what's the worst you can do to me? Kill me? That's going to happen anyway – if not you, then the Wraith, so it's hardly a threat." He was on a roll, his instinct for self preservation overriding his good sense not to keep talking and risk aggravating Michael still further. "You've already said that Lorne is dying so—"

"I said there was nothing more I could do for him; that I have done everything that I can. Not that he is dying." Michael interrupted.

"Oh no," Rodney shook his head, glancing over to Lorne, "No, no, no. I'm not going to let you hold him over my head like some— I'm not—"

"Ah yes," Michael smiled wryly, "The good Doctor Beckett."

He began to walk away, back over to where Lorne lay amid what Rodney could only assume was medical equipment that was helping to keep the major alive.

"He and I worked very well together," Michael continued, almost as though he was somehow nostalgic, reminiscing. "He had a brilliant mind. I managed to complete a great deal more of my research while working with him. Human genetics are so… malleable, so—"

"He's not even the real Carson!"

Michael looked up from making a slight adjustment to the machinery around Lorne, glancing over his shoulder toward Rodney.

"I see," he said softly. "He was your friend."

"Is," he insisted, "You keep talking about him in the past tense."

Michael turned away from Lorne to look at him face on once more. "Doctor Carson Beckett is dead, Doctor McKay."

"But you, you—"

"I created a clone; manipulated his DNA to allow the imprinting of his memories, his personality—" One of the machines in the laboratory let out a soft series of bleeps interrupting him, and Michael turned his head quickly in that direction and then began to walk toward the equipment, to make adjustments and lean down to study an image that had appeared on a small screen on the front of the device. "No matter… you and the others will soon understand that there is nothing you can do to prevent the inevitable. That which has been set in motion; that will be completed when the child is born—"

"Teyla," McKay said, looking around as though he expected to see her. "Where is she? What have you done to her?"

Michael stiffened, and growled slightly as the words left McKay's mouth. "She is in her quarters. Resting," he said in a tone that almost dared Rodney to contradict him, to question him further about Teyla. Before Rodney could weigh the pros and cons of trying to find out more about Michael and his plans by pushing him, he added, "And before you ask, Captain Vega is comfortable, and in the holding area." He turned again then, and met Rodney's gaze. The darkened gold of his eyes almost glowed in the dim light of the laboratory. "She was… persuaded to give me the computer component you took from my facility. Thank you, Doctor."

The chill with which the words were infused crossed the space between them in the small laboratory and wrapped itself around Rodney's already fearful mind.

"Colonel," the Con. Officer's voice broke in on Sheppard's darkening thoughts making him jump. "We're in range."

"All stop," Caldwell ordered, and then turned to Sheppard, "Point of no return, Sheppard. It's your call but for what it's worth I still think it's a bad idea."

"We have no choice, Colonel," he answered, turning again to look out of the view screen. "We need to stir up the whole nest of hornets if we're going to have any chance of getting our people out."

"And even then you're running the risk of one of these Wraith bastards blowing Michael's cruiser to hell and our people along with it."

Sheppard shook his head. "Michael won't let that happen. He's not stupid. He deliberately put that moon between him and the Hives. He was expecting them and he knows he won't stay hidden forever." He looked over at Zelenka to help him out with the intricacies of the plan.

"We're just going to use the distraction to slip in, disable Michael's comm. array so we can fly the Daedalus in and beam out McKay and the others," the scientist explained simplistically, and pushed his spectacles up along his nose.

Sheppard threw him a none-too-appreciative look. He could have explained it in those simple terms himself and had expected Zelenka to explain more fully the importance of being able to disable the comm. array on the cruiser. Zelenka just shrugged apologetically.

Caldwell sighed and shook his head, but said, "All right. If you think this will work…" he turned to his bridge crew and ordered, "Exit silent running. Fighter crews to the three-oh-twos. Disengage the cloak."

Sheppard couldn't help but hold his breath. Almost as soon as the cloak disengaged the noses of at least a half dozen Wraith Darts and one of the cruisers flying along side the Hives turned their way. Even before the Con. Officer called out, "They've seen us," he knew that they were now committed.

"Raise shields," Caldwell ordered, taking his place in the command chair. "Charge Asgard weapons."

Sheppard sighed again. He felt useless. He met Zelenka's worried gaze across the bridge and flinched as the shields flared briefly when the first of the Darts fired on the Daedalus.

"Our fighters are away."

"Let's see it," Caldwell answered.

Immediately, in front of the view screen, the large heads up winked into view as the sensors relayed the action in theatre. Sheppard watched the F302s head in the direction of the Hives, weaving and dodging around the ever protective Darts, following their orders to capture the attention of the Wraith commanders; to lead as many of the ships as possible toward Michael.

Rodney had lost track of the time that he had watched in silence as Michael alternated his attention between his scientific instruments, and tending to Major Lorne. He seemed alive to the nuances; to the changes in tone and pitch of the machinery around Lorne which in hindsight Rodney could easily hear, but which at the time had been barely perceptible.

He saw Michael make yet more adjustments at one of the panels, and then stand watching the display, immobile except for the occasional glance down onto the figure of the Major.

"Answer something?" Rodney said, unable to stand the silence any longer, bursting with hundreds of thoughts and even more questions about the scientific elements of Michael's work in spite of his flat refusal to help his campaign to subjugate the entire Pegasus galaxy to his will.

Michael glanced over his shoulder, his head tilted, which McKay took to mean he should continue, so he said, "That equipment… is it there to monitor his vitals, or is it in some way keeping him alive?"

Michael frowned at him, an expression almost of confusion.

"The… stuff… the… thing you keep adjusting there…" he nodded toward the machine beside Michael, since his arms were still held in the restraints.

"For a scientist, Doctor McKay," Michael finally spoke, "you are very imprecise with your vocabulary."

"Oh and suddenly you're the expert on—"

Michael turned around to face the doorway, almost sending Rodney's heart into convulsions, until he saw that two of Michael's soldiers were waiting there.

"Report," Michael snapped.

"The Hives know we are here. They are sending their Darts ahead of them, but they are coming. The Lantean ships also."

"So," Michael nodded to his hybrids. "Once again, Colonel Sheppard seeks to manipulate situations over which he has little or no control; to manipulate my actions and to force my hand."

He turned his head slightly toward Rodney, and McKay realized then that the statement had been for his benefit, rather than that of the hybrids, or mere idle musing.

"Or maybe to rescue the people you took from him," McKay added with heavy sarcasm.

Michael ignored him. Instead he turned back to his hybrids. "You know what to do," he said in a firm and clipped tone to one of them. To the other he said, "Take Doctor McKay to the Launch Bay with the others. I will complete my work here, and join you in the auxiliary control room."

"Wait a minute," McKay started, but the hybrid soldier did not stop. "What do you mean, 'the launch bay'?"

Michael paused in tending once again to Major Lorne and turned to look at him. "You didn't imagine I was going to leave you behind, did you Doctor?"

The deck beneath his feet lurched as yet another explosion rocked the Daedalus. It made little difference whether he watched through the view screen or whether he returned to stand near Caldwell so that he could analyze the progress of their F302s against the Wraith ships. The truth remained the same either way. They were as outmanned here in space as they had been on the ground, and the most sensible, tactical decision would have been to get the hell out of there and leave the battle to Michael and the Wraith.

"I won't leave our people behind," he murmured under his breath, speaking to no one but himself.

"Excuse me?" Caldwell asked, frowning in his direction.

Sheppard snapped out of his morbid contemplation and approached the command position on the bridge. Speaking more briskly he said, "We need to target the smaller of the two Hives."

"What? Why?" Caldwell snapped grabbing a hold of the sides of his chair as the bridge shook again.

"Look at the formation of its ships," Sheppard pointed at the heads up. "It's sending in its Darts, it's even committed one of the two cruisers it has along side of it, but it's staying out of the battle."

"Which frankly is a blessing," Caldwell snapped, and as if to prove his objection to the plan that Sheppard was beginning to outline Daedalus pitched wildly under the onslaught of the explosions. Caldwell quickly called out, "Shields?"

"Seventy three percent."

"We're not going to be able to sit here and take much more of this," Caldwell turned his attention back to Sheppard, "And if you pull that Hive into the battle, that's one, potentially two more ships to be shooting at us if they commit the second cruiser as well."

"It won't come to that," Sheppard sighed. "Honestly, with both Hives committing to battle, Michael won't have a choice but to respond."

"He already has," Caldwell's answer held the tired tone of someone explaining something that should have been obvious. "He sent that wave of Darts in to cover his escape. You said yourself, he's not stupid." Caldwell shook his head apologetically, "I have to think about the safety of this ship, John. I'm sorry." Then to his crew he ordered, "Prepare to come about."

"Wait!" Sheppard called out, "Wait," He leaned closer to the command chair, "Colonel, please… stopping Michael from leaving is our first priority; to get our people out safely, and the only way we can do that is to get the other Hive to engage," Sheppard looked at the Daedalus commander imploringly. "With three of us out here cutting off his escape…" he reached out and grasped Steven Caldwell forearm. "…trust me, Michael will have no choice but bring his cruiser into battle."

He locked eyes with the colonel as if he could make the man see the succession of dark thoughts, the succession of his failure to protect those under his command, to whom he had a duty of care, rolling through his mind and influence him with them. He thought of Teyla and her unborn child… of Rodney, Lorne and even Vega, prisoners of Michael and probably being subjected to all kinds of torture.

For what seemed like an age the two of them remained locked in unspoken conversation. Finally Caldwell broke their silence. "Shields?"

"Fifty nine percent."

He nodded resolutely. "Load all forward batteries. Stand by all drones." He glanced at Sheppard. John nodded and a second later, Caldwell ordered, "Take us in. Target the second Hive."

Sam couldn’t help but grin as one by one the Darts began climbing into the planet's upper atmosphere, leaving them to face only the remaining Wraith on the ground. Whatever he'd done, it seemed that Sheppard's plan was working.

"All units… move in!" she ordered, still having to yell over the noise of the ongoing battles, "Secure the Gate!" She paused only to pull out the empty magazine from her P90 and slap home the replacement, before she raised the weapon and began firing. "Ronon!" she yelled, "We need to get control of the DHD."

"Way ahead of you," he answered, literally leaping toward the Wraith that stood between them and the controls to access the Stargate.

After only a moment, Sam found she had to stop giving the man supporting fire because everywhere she aimed her weapon there he seemed to be. Knife in hand, Ronon lashed out at one, then turned and kicked another who was seeking to rise after an earlier blow, full in the face. It was simply too great a risk to try and fire into the melee without hitting the Satedan himself. She turned her fire instead towards ensuring that no others came to join their Wraith companions in the fierce hand to hand and bloody battle that Ronon fought against them.

For several long minutes she stood hunched over her rattling automatic weapon, taking down any Wraith that even dared to set foot in Ronon's direction, until a roaring growl made her turn again.

Ronon was pinned against the ground by two large Wraith. His feet lashed out toward one of them, seeking a scissor motion that would take the Wraith's feet from under him. But the canny Wraith kept his feet spread, his center of balance low, and ultimately was not going to be easily moved. The other, however, leaning over Ronon was vulnerable. It wouldn't take much to tip his balance and send him tumbling away from her friend. Without a second thought she set off running and launched herself through the air toward the bending Wraith.

She did not quite expect the Wraith to be as solid as he was and the impact knocked the wind out of her. It also produced the desired result and overbalanced the Wraith, sending them both tumbling to the ground. Already winded, hitting the ground stunned her dangerously, with her head turned toward where Ronon was already gaining the upper hand against the one remaining Wraith. He pulled him down to meet his raised forearm, which he beat repeatedly against the now stumbling warrior's masked face.

A sharp pain in her side broke her stupor. She raised her hands defensively, almost by instinct to catch the wrist of the arm that had begun to descend toward her. In the absence of a weapon, knocked from his grasp when they fell, the Wraith had resorted to instinct of his own.

Her muscles burned as she fought to hold back the Wraith's hand. Every nightmare flashed before her as she twisted and squirmed beneath him, alternately clawing at him and beating him with her free hand. Her fingers encountered flesh and she tore at it; tearing away the mask to reveal the twisted, bloody facelessness beneath, just as the muscles in her arm buckled, and the Wraith's feeding hand struck her shoulder.

A wordless scream bubbled in her throat, gathering an unfulfilled momentum, because as she opened her mouth, a high pitched whine, deafeningly close, drowned out awareness of all else. The side of her face was scorched by an incredible heat, but the Wraith on top of her flew backwards, freeing her to roll aside, and bring up all of her imagined pain, and very real fear into the dirt beside her.

When she could turn her head, she saw Ronon lying on his back, his arm still outstretched, clutching his blaster, breathing hard.

"You all right?" he asked, and it was only then she realized that the sounds of battle around them had dwindled to almost nothing. She nodded wordlessly, emotion threatening to overwhelm her. She heard rather than saw Ronon climb to his feet but even so, almost jumped when he leaned down to take her by the arm and pull her to her own.

"I'm okay," she managed to gasp. "I'm okay." She looked up at him and shook her head as he opened his mouth to speak. After another moment she gave him a gentle push toward where the DHD finally stood open to them. "Dial the gate."

Sleep still hung heavily around her, weighing her feet and making every step an effort. The hybrid soldier that had woken her had barely spoken a word, simply shaken her awake and bidden her to follow him. From what she had managed to work out of the geography of the cruiser, she guessed that she was once more being taken to the launch bay.

She sighed softly and ran a hand across her face. So much had happened. So many things about which she had been certain before were suddenly in flux and it frightened her the way that so many of the things that were nipping at the edges of her conscience called so much into question. Her fear was unsettling the child and the feeling of it was leaving her winded and a little nauseous. Greater even that that was the gnawing doubts growing inside of her that left her feeling vulnerable and lonely; needing of a moment's warmth.

As they approached the junction in the corridors, where they would turn to head toward the launch bay, she saw the figure within the holding cell throw off a coarse blanket and rush forwards. A wiry young woman with dark hair, wearing oversized clothes which had obviously been supplied to her since she arrived on the ship, threaded her arms through the bars of the cell and reached out to her.

"Teyla?" she called, and her voice was full of surprise.

She slowed her steps until she came to a stop, a hand resting protectively over her belly, "I am sorry," she said, "but I do not know you."

"Of course you wouldn't, I… we never met," the woman said, "My name is Alicia. Alicia Vega."

Teyla's frown deepened, and a slight, but definite nagging push filled her with the urge to back away from the woman. She shook her head. She did not recognize the name even though the woman spoke to her as though she should.

"I…" she began, trying to find a way to answer her.

"I'm a captain with the Atlantis expedition."

"Atlantis…?" Teyla blinked, and this time took a step forward, "I am sorry, I did not know—"

"I was brought here along with Doctor McKay and Major Lorne, I… I don't know where they were taken, but—"

Teyla stepped right up to the bars this time, putting some distance between her and her escort. She tipped her head first one way and then the other to check that there was no one coming who would prevent her from speaking with the woman.

"Michael took them to his laboratory." Teyla said. "But please… what of the others? They are coming?"

"What is he doing to them?" The tremor and the horrified tone in the woman's voice was a like a slap to the face. Frowning, her insides twisting into knots, Teyla took a step back. Not far enough, however, as the frightened woman reached out quickly and grabbed her arm. "Please… I need to know."

"Let go, Alicia, you must not—" She pulled against the woman's hand, reaching with her own to try and peel the touch away. "Michael, he—"

Vega held on in spite of her tugging against the contact. The woman shuddered, and tightened her grip at the mention of Michael. "He came…" She whimpered slightly. "He took—"

"Let go of me," Teyla pulled still harder against the touch. "Please, you—"

"He said—"

"I told you that your future is already decided, Captain Vega," Michael announced as he arrived silently.

Teyla closed her eyes in a long, slow blink as he unmasked himself to her and the touch of his mind in hers, reaching for her to calm the disquiet that gripped her as surely as Vega's touch on her arm, became a strength for her. She did not miss, however, the protective edge of his anger at the woman's audacity, and became more than aware of the danger the young woman was putting herself in. Teyla stopped struggling with her, imploring the woman with her eyes to let go of her, feeling Michael slowly approaching.

He stopped just behind her, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from him, and raised his hands to barely cup her shoulders and ease her away from the Captain's restraining touch. It fell away from her arm as surely as a leaf from a tree in fall. Teyla did not move far from his side.

"Very wise, Captain," he said in a rumbling, dangerous tone. Then to his soldiers added with more than a little cruel bite in his voice, "Take her."

"No… please…!" Vega backed away from the doors that spiraled open as Michael operated the control. "Teyla, help me, please!"

The comfort and warmth she felt surrounding her burst suddenly, uncertainty, fear and anger falling to drench every part of her in a sudden cold sweat. She half turned and frowned at Michael, taking a step away from him even as Vega tried to avoid his hybrids.

"Where are you taking her?" she demanded.

Michael glanced at her, answering, "She will go with the others." Then he glanced at the hybrid soldier nearby to where Teyla was standing. He moved past her to assist the other in retrieving the captain from the cell.

"Go where?" Vega demanded struggling with them as the soldiers took her by the arms, and all but carried her, crying out in protest for every step they took. "Please… where are you taking me?"

Michael did not answer and Teyla knew she did not stand a chance to stop them. She might have been able to disable one of them… and if she were lucky free the woman so that she could run from the other, but she knew the moment that she moved against either of them, Michael would stop her.

The woman's cries of protest faded and for a moment or two there was silence. Michael turned to her, a tangibly hurt expression on his face. She felt answering tears come into her eyes, even though she tried not to listen to the tumbling emotions inside of her. "What would you have me do?" he asked her at length, "The Hives have found us," he told her, tilting his head, "Lead here by your Lantean friends."

He took another step toward her, but this time, rather than back away again, she took a side step, beginning to circle, "They will never give you a moment's peace, Michael," she said to him. "You know that—"

He shook her head, "It does not matter."

"—especially not so long as I am here," she finished, and this time she did back up a little as he closed the circle toward her.

"Then I ask you again, what would you have me do?"

"Let us go," she told him. "Vega, Doctor McKay, Major Lorne—"

"You must forget the Major," he said, taking another step. "Think of him as… a casualty of war."

She took another step away from him… backed up until she had nowhere left to go; was pressed against the bulkhead. What had happened to the others was all her fault. If she had been more careful, if she had listened to Sam instead of chasing half remembered dreams that she knew now to be a lie she—

"No," Michael told her, taking a halting step towards her. "When I reached out to you there was not a word spoken that was a lie. You must come with me, Teyla. I need—"

She wrapped her arm protectively around her belly, using the fear she had for her son to try and quash all thoughts of the way her stomach suddenly tightened at his words. She cut him off. "He is my child, Michael. I will not allow you to use him."

"Teyla…" A soft voice to the side of the open space made her turn her head. Kanaan stood looking at her, hands by his side, and in one of them he held a weapon. "…please, there's much you don't understand… you must listen to him—"

"Kanaan—?" she started, but her voice cracked and stopped the rest of the sentence before it began.

"—You must go with him," Kanaan continued.

"No, I can't, I—"

"You must." Kanaan said darkly and took a step further into the area. She watched him, tears gathering in her eyes. The conflict inside of her stirred still more deeply as she looked on the man who had once been her closest childhood friend. Never would she have imagined he could have gone so far as to cross such a line.

She sensed the change in the feeling coming from Michael in the same moment that the background hum of the ship changed the way it vibrated through her contact with the bulkhead. A smoldering anger, mixed with resigned longing washed over her. Michael took another step toward her, and with nowhere to go, she started to raise her hands, meaning to fend him off.

"We don't have time for this," he told her, suddenly reaching forward, "It's not safe here. We must go."

"No!" She lashed out as he reached for her and on pure reflex he blocked the blow, and took another step toward her as she growled, "I will not—"

The pain was only fleeting - a burning heat that began somewhere in her chest as the rhythm of her heart faltered. It spread outwards through all of her limbs, draining her strength. She managed to turn her head toward a sound she had barely registered – high pitched and harsh. Kanaan still stood with his weapon raised, and pointed in her direction.

"No… Kanaan," she whispered, and as the blue lights of the cruiser began to darken around her, she reached for the one person who had only ever been true to his words to her.

Michael caught her flailing hand and guided it to his shoulder as his arm came around her, supportive and strong. He gently lowered her to the deck and did not let go of her.

She took strength from his mind too, from the connection they shared and from the burning fury that bubbled inside… anything was preferable to the blackness of her own feeling of betrayal. No sooner she reached for his mind, however, than Michael pushed away his anger to support her with resolve of a different kind, holding onto her consciousness with his own.

She whispered his name.

-Don't speak-

"That was unnecessary," he was still angry. His tone clipped.

-You're safe-

"She would have fought you," Kanaan's voice held none of the warmth she remembered from their childhood, their friendship. "I know Teyla."

"You overreach yourself!" Michael snapped, his voice a whip this time. "Go and join the others. You have work to do."

"Michael…" she whispered, and tried to move her hand along his shoulder, to touch his cheek, but as she tried, he slowly released his hold on her consciousness. Her hand slipped and fell across his arm as he gently picked her up. She barely registered their movement as he carried her from the area.

"The larger Hive is almost in range of the moon," the Con. Officer's voice broke in on the tension on the bridge. "Second cruiser is moving in."

"Whoever's in command of this Hive, he's not falling for it, Sheppard." Caldwell raised his voice to cut through the noise of the many alarms that were sounding on the bridge.

"Shields are at thirty seven percent," the gunner called out.

"We have to withdraw, if you want to get our people out, we have to make sure there's a ship to get them out with." Caldwell turned in his seat and Sheppard looked up from trying to operate a fire extinguisher with just one hand.

He swore. He'd been certain the Wraith commander would follow them and engage his Hive in the battle. He'd been certain the prestige of being the one to take out the shame that Michael was to the Wraith would have been too much to resist. Caldwell was right… and he'd screwed up, and now they had to hurry to protect Michael's cruiser for long enough to get their two-man team aboard, take out the comm. array, and beam their people off the ship. He swore again, and kicked the bulkhead wall.

Caldwell evidently took that for assent because in the next moment he began calling out his orders, "Aft shields to maximum. Get us out of here. Doctor Zelenka?"

"Colonel?"

"Is there anything you can do to boost shields?"

Zelenka thought for a moment or two before he said, "Well, if I could reroute the power from the—"

"I don't need an explanation, Doctor. Just get it done."

"Right, I—" Zelenka pointed ahead of himself before he hurried off the bridge.

Perhaps it was the sound of the alarms that woke her, or the way the ship bucked beneath her, but the moment she opened her eyes, she felt Michael turn away from the console in the auxiliary control room and come to her, where she lay on one of the benches there at the side of the room. He steadied her as she sat up slowly, and then held something out in her direction. She looked up into the concern she saw on his face.

"Drink this," he told her softly, "It will help to ease your head."

"What is happening?" she asked him, grimacing at the taste of the liquid in the small tumbler he gave her. He reached to take it back from her and set it aside. "I am cold."

She wrapped her arms around herself, but he was already reaching for the blanket beside her even as he answered, "It is the effect of the stunner. It will pass."

As he tucked the blanket around her, she reached up to catch his hand, pressing her chilled palm to the back, and curling her fingertips over the side of his hand.

He took in a breath sharply, let it out slowly, and said, "Teyla…"

"Michael," she said, her eyes moistened even as she began to speak. Everything of the last few hours came flooding back. Her chest tightened in the makings of a sob and the solitude, the deepest need for simple human comfort threatened to break her apart. "What is to happen—?"

"Soon we will leave," he said, his eyes on her hand, joined with his. "It will not be much longer."

Worry, the need for a place of safety for her and for the child to come. Wrapping his strength and his protection around the both of them—

The thought cut off abruptly. "I am… afraid," she said, and as she blinked, the tears she had fought so hard to contain since she was first brought to his ship, rolled down her cheek. One of them fell to splash against their hands.

He frowned, and looked up, tilting his head, and then almost hesitantly reached out toward the moisture on her cheek. "I have told you, Teyla. I will not allow any harm to come to you."

"Then please…" She closed her eyes and drew in a soft gasp as the tips of his fingers finally grazed against her cheekbone. She tilted her head and almost leaned into the touch, the breath she took shook as she exhaled. Her lower lip trembled with the press of her emotion and she whispered, "…Michael, h—"

The ship tilted suddenly, violently. She gripped his hand more tightly and he caught her closer to him to stop the explosion that had rocked the ship from spilling her to the floor.

"There is no more time," he said, and freeing his hand from hers, he took her by the shoulders and all but lifted her to her feet. From out of nowhere, one of his hybrids appeared at his shoulder. Michael took the blanket from her and pushed her slightly, guiding her toward the soldier as he came forward. "Go with him. He will take you to my ship."

"But you—"

Michael took little notice of her objection. He addressed his soldiers. "You each know what to do," and then to the soldier standing at her side he said, "Take her."

The hybrid gripped her upper arm and led her quickly from the control room and into the launch bay. She looked back over her shoulder, to see Michael working, an almost fervent expression on his face.

It did not take long to reach the scout ship that Michael had adapted to his personal needs, though it took longer for her to clamber inside. The deck rocked again beneath them and she almost slipped, but the hybrid caught her, steadied her, and she was able to climb aboard.

She turned her head to watch as several others took their places in the launch bay and the control room, then felt, and heard Michael move to address them, though she could not see.

"Status?" he demanded.

The hybrid at the tactical controls answered, "The Lantean ship that was attacking the Queen's Hive has withdrawn. One of the two cruisers is heavily damaged. It has lost hyperdrive and is venting atmosphere."

"Well, then, let's finish it." Michael said, his voice as deadly as she had ever heard. The hybrids, who had been standing almost in formation in the launch bay each turned and headed for the many Darts his ship carried.

Summoned from his research by the call of his fellow Wraith on the bridge, he walked quickly through the corridors of the cruiser. It had taken many years to perfect the technology they were about to use, and he was insistent that it would be he that would strike the killing blow… not the least of it to get the undeniably beautiful, but equally as demanding and deadly Queen off his back. He commanded his own Hive, and did not need the interference of a Queen in his plans. He suffered the alliance only for the resources her Hive could provide for his research.

He sighed. News travels quickly in a race of telepaths and he had known that, sooner or later, one of the remaining Queens would recognize his skills, his usefulness and approach him with the suggestion of such an alliance. He had not expected it would be this one, but, since it was, and he had little by way of a reason to refuse without arousing suspicion, he had agreed, and then had watched in mounting disquiet as little by little, what had begun as an alliance slowly became subjugation, as more and more of his Hive Brothers were subsumed by the Elder Queen. Still… soon now…

~report~

He came to know that the Lantean warship, with her shields failing, had been forced to withdraw. The Abomination's cruiser was moving from behind the moon and that many more of his Darts had been launched and were heading into the battle against several targets, though mainly against the Hives. He paused as he reached the controls of the new weapon and tilted his head; curious… so he had been wrong… the Abomination did not intend to hide behind the Humans and their ships.

"Survival of the fittest," he crooned, speaking to no one but himself, "Good…" he watched dispassionately as the enemy unleashed a devastating salvo against the cruiser alongside his own. He saw the chain reaction begin to spread through the cruiser's systems and then activated his own enhanced shielding as the ship succumbed to the onslaught and sent out a deadly shockwave that consumed many of the smaller ships, like ashes in its wake.

He moved the targeting scanner of the Cascade Beam weapon to pinpoint the communications center of the Abomination's cruiser. He knew that in the wake of the explosion the sensors would be less than accurate, and probably would not register that the ship was being targeted, and warn the operator in time for them to take evasive action.

With a strength of conviction he moved his hand over the controls and gave the combined physical and mental command to fire the weapon.

"It's confirmed," the gunner announced as the sensors cleared, "Michael's target is destroyed."

"And the Darts?" Sheppard asked. Even though he was used to reading a tactical heads up display, he was finding it difficult to follow the many symbols that showed each of the sides of the battle.

"Heading for the Hives." the man confirmed Sheppard's suspicions. "Probably trying to force them to leave."

"And our Jumper?"

"Heading for—" a bright flash from the forward view screen cut off the gunner's report.

"What the hell was that?" Caldwell demanded.

"I have no idea," Sheppard answered, "but it can't be good."

"It came from the remaining Wraith cruiser, Sir," the gunner reported, "and whatever it is, it's heading directly for Michael."

"Open a channel to our Jum—" Caldwell ordered.

"Belay that," Sheppard snapped almost before the colonel had the words out. "We do that we'll give away their position, and we still need them to board Michael's ship and take out the array."

"When that thing hits, who's to say there'll be anything left of Michael's ship or our people?" Caldwell snapped in response, and Sheppard shivered, watching as the stream of energy closed the final distance to Michael's ship.

Teyla shifted uncomfortably as she waited in the scout ship. A part of her wanted to climb back out and investigate why she felt such concern, almost fear, coming from Michael… but another part of her knew that she had to stay where she was; that something was going to happen, and would happen soon, and suddenly, and she had to be ready.

She reached out to his mind.

…Michael…

-timing is critical-

She saw the sensor readings through his eyes, and though she could make sense of little, she did identify that a large amount of a very powerful, very bright energy was heading straight for the ship. She felt the pull of the controls, the restraint with which he held himself… concentration incarnate, even with her so connected to him as she was now, and even with the two of the remaining hybrids moving to his side.

She held her breath… the beam, she knew, meant death, and there was barely a breath between the forward edge of it and the ship.

Under his breath, Sheppard muttered, "Come on, Michael, don't just sit there," hardly believing those words would be coming out of his mouth.

He closed his eyes as the beam reached Michael's ship and the shield around the cruiser flared brightly. He wished he could shut his ears just as easily as the gunner's voice rang out over the bridge.

"Oh my God—"

His heart sank; shriveled. He'd gambled and he'd lost. So many lost to save so few, but on his team, so long as he was the military commander, no one was left behind. No one.

"—it's holding!"

"What!" his eyes snapped open and he peered at the heads up, but even as he looked it fizzled into darkness, no longer receiving data from the sensors.

"What the hell just happened?" Caldwell snapped.

"Sorry, Colonel," the gunner said, "Whatever Michael did, it took out our sensors."

Sheppard abandoned the technology in favor of good, old-fashioned eyesight and watched in fascination as the beam, somehow reflected from Michael's shields, undulated, wavelike, toward the Wraith cruiser. He had to, albeit grudgingly, admire Michael's ingenuity. Worrying, however, was the fact that Darts in the near vicinity of the energy wave were, apparently spontaneously, blooming into rich explosions.

"Get our fighters out of there," he turned and ordered the Con. Officer.

"No can do, Sir," the man reported, "It took out communications as well."

"Zelenka!"

"Already on it." The scientist dashed from one side of the bridge to the other. "From the data we captured just before the sensors went down, it's possible that Michael reconfigured his shield harmonics to interfere with the energy of the beam."

Sheppard almost started to feel better with the explanation he could, at least in general if not the specifics of the matter, understand.

"The trouble is, doing that has disrupted the subspace carrier wave on which most of our sensors and communications rely." Zelenka concluded.

"You always have to go and spoil a good explanation with scientific mumbo-jumbo." he complained cheerfully. "Can you fix it?"

"I should be able to reconfigure our communications array to compensate," Zelenka said, "Yes."

She did not physically need to be on the bridge to see what was happening in battle. She heard it all, and saw as the bridge crew saw, if she so wished. But somehow that made it all so remote… so distant.

They moved aside for her as she swept into their midst, gave up the position from which the most could be seen, and moved to control the Hive from auxiliary consoles. She watched, Dart against Dart… against the human ships, all seeking the same… victory… dominion.

He was ready. She could feel his surprise that the Unclean One had ceased to hide behind his Lantean progenitors – no… not surprise. Elation. She tilted her head and hissed, long and low. It would prove the death of him. Either that or it would prove him worthy, and she was not yet sure which.

She closed her eyes and let her head fall back, focusing… concentrating… eager for the outcome to be known… pushing just enough against the barrier she found in the heart of the network of minds to be able to feel the anger, the betrayal, and to taste the hurt of it.

Her eyes snapped open suddenly. Something was wrong. Some part of the Hive around her was unclean… contaminated.

=Breached… Fools, we have been breached=

Immediately the shrill screech of the alarm began to sound, but already it was too late. The pain of the damage to the Hive flowed through her as the foreign Dart fired its weapons in the heart of her landing bay, even as her own Darts rose to her defense.

This could not happen… must not be allowed. She was vulnerable here… they must protect the Hive. She felt the ship turn in answer to her silent command; felt the surge and the answering pull of the inertial dampening field as they accelerated toward the opening hyperspace window…

Zelenka stood over the open drawer, moving around the lighted control crystals, before attaching his computer tablet to a number of points within. His fingers moved rapidly over the keys as he said, "After I have reconfigured the array we should—"

"Colonel Sheppard!" The gunner paled as the sensor telemetry flicked back into view on the heads up.

"What?" Sheppard rushed back to sweep his eyes over the display. Seeing nothing that could have evoked such a reaction in the seasoned officer, he repeated, "What?"

"I have a lock."

John Sheppard frowned in confusion and was about to ask the man for clarification, when Colonel Caldwell snapped, "What are you talking about?"

"Our people. It's just one signal but—"

"That means the beam took out Michael's shields and jamming capabilities," Sheppard skidded to a halt behind the gunner, trying to see just whose subcutaneous transmitter they had found.

Not that it mattered, not to him, and not to Caldwell who ordered quickly, "Take us in, fast. Shields to maximum."

Teyla braced herself against the sides of the scout ship as the cruiser shook from yet another explosion. Her back ached terribly and no matter which way she tried to sit in the restrictive seat of the scout ship, nothing brought relief. She looked around toward the control room and even across the distance could see the open concern etched onto Michael's face.

She felt him, waiting… poised and watchful and her own muscles tensed in response to the control by which he held his to stillness. As the ship pitched again from another explosion, this one somewhere deep within the cruiser itself, her belly twisted, tensing in worry. She folded her arms across her torso, deeply afraid for her child.

-as soon as it is safe we will leave-

Safe to leave? She did not understand how it could not be safer to leave than to stay.

His confidence of that flooded through her, warming her, insulating her from the fear. She still did not understand, but in that moment it did not matter.

"As soon as we're clear, target the remaining Hive. Force them to make the jump to hyperspace," she heard Michael instruct the one hybrid that remained in the control room.

"I understand," he said, dispassionately.

With the two remaining soldiers at his side, Michael turned and started toward the waiting ships. They were half way across the launch bay when the cruiser rattled in the aftermath of another explosion that was beginning to tear the cruiser apart.

Pain, sudden, deep and penetrating tightened the ache from her back like a vice around her middle. It was brief, fleeting, but unmistakable.

Michael's head snapped up and back to capture her with his eyes, burning now in deep concern that was colored with his anger toward the Lanteans.

They were the cause of this added danger to her now. But for their interference she would be settled and safe in the facility he had chosen for this, not fleeing from the midst of battle at such a time.

"Protect her. Protect the child," he ordered the hybrids who would pilot the Darts. Then he began to quickly climb aboard his ship.

…Michael…

She could not contain the sob as she mentally called out for him. She closed her eyes and tried to will her body into acquiescence, holding her arms tightly around herself.

…my son ~ my child, please wait…

"Teyla, look at me."

"Michael," she sobbed his name, but shook her head in refusal to follow his command. "My child… my baby is coming."

-Look at me- -at me- -me-

Under the press of his mind she raised her head and opened her eyes to fall into the almost luminous gold. He drew her deeper, surrounding her, possessing her.

-Trust me- -trust me- -trust-

She began to feel heavy, a deep lethargy covering her like a blanket and she had to fight to keep her eyes open. Events blurred. She barely felt the sharpness of the needle as he fixed an intravenous line into her forearm, nor the movement of his hands as he settled her properly into the flight seat and fastened the harness around her.

The nausea at the sudden rush of speed and light against the artificial gravity of the ship and the abrupt freefall into the darkness of space, lit only by the flash of battle around them, became a half remembered memory. Only the promise remained.

-I will protect you. No matter what, I will protect you both- -protect you both- -protect-

He could almost taste the anticipation as the Cascade Beam raced across the distance between his cruiser and that of the Abomination. He mentally counted the seconds until with an almost snarling hiss he watched the shields of the other cruiser flare brightly. Any moment they would collapse inward. The energy of the beam would feed back through the nodes that generated the shields and would disable them and the comm. array and would send a cascading overload throughout all the systems of the ship, destroying it from the inside out and there would be nothing to be done to prevent it.

Seconds passed and a frown, born of confusion, found its way to his face as his sensors failed, the chatter of Dart telemetry falling silent on the bridge. He grasped the controls, letting his mind fall into oneness with the cruiser's interface and ran a diagnostic program to try and find the cause of the failure. As the answer came to him the blood in his veins chilled and slowed.

"That's not possible," he said aloud, and abandoned his position to race to the forward viewing port. Even before he saw the leading edge of the approaching wave, he felt the cold touch of a thought inside his head that did not come from any one of his brothers.

-Did you think I would forget?-

Even if they moved now the wave would still strike them, and even a glancing blow would doom them to the same cascade of critical systems failure with which he had intended to destroy the Abomination's cruiser. In fact, he through wryly, the enhanced shields on his own ship would serve only to create a larger cascade and faster destruction. He set his steps quickly for the launch bay. He had to return to the Hive… and the Hive had to withdraw.

"Time?" Caldwell asked.

"We'll be in range in twenty seconds," the Con. Officer reported.

"Better hope the ship lasts that long," Sheppard said darkly. What had begun as elation had turned to worry when the explosions within Michael's cruiser started to become more evident. Eruptions of fire burst from parts of the ship to light up the surrounding space, blood red. "You still have a lock?"

"We still have a lock."

"Still just the one?"

"Just Lorne, Sir." the Con. Officer confirmed, "I'm sorry."

Sheppard shook his head, it wasn't all right, so he didn't pretend that it was, but if they could bring even one of their people back, it went some way to making something positive out of this whole sorry mess.

"A ship just launched from the Wraith cruiser, Sir," the gunner said.

"Ah, let it go," Sheppard said irritably, dismissive. "Probably just their commander bailing 'cause he knows his ship is sinking."

"Sir," the Con. Officer turned his head to Caldwell, "We're in range."

"Get him out of there," Caldwell ordered.

The answering column of white light resolved itself into the supine form of the Major. As soon as he was aboard, his body began jerking in distress, a terrible gurgling coming from his throat as though he was drowning.

"Get a medical team!" Sheppard all but threw himself at Lorne, Colonel Caldwell at his side, both of them doing what little he could to support him until the medics could reach him. He barely registered the rest of the frantic conversation on the bridge as the deck bucked beneath him.

"Sir, we just lost shields," the gunner announced. "Michael's ship is going critical."

"Get us the hell out of here," Caldwell snapped over his shoulder. "Recall the 302s. As soon as they're aboard, get us clear and make the jump to hyperspace. We're done."

They moved aside to let the ship's doctor get to Lorne, to lift him, still convulsing, onto the gurney and rush him to the infirmary. Sheppard watched the corridor long after his subordinate officer had disappeared, in good hands even while he was in bad shape. Behind him the main screen became awash with the yellows and reds, as first Michael's cruiser, still firing its last toward the nearby Wraith Hive ship, and then, as the shockwave reached it, the Wraith cruiser, disintegrated into flaming masses of semi-organic matter.

He veered away from his dying cruiser, first toward the planet's atmosphere, to use it to protect him from the shockwave. As close as he was, if it caught him, he would be incinerated, just like the rest of the Darts caught in battle near the cruisers. At least they'd managed to stop the Abomination's cruiser from reaching the Hive, but it was small comfort. All it meant was that he would have to face the Queen with yet another failure.

He was forced to pull up sharply as three ships cut across his path. Two Darts and a Scout ship screamed into view, and even as he pulled up, one of them rolled, starting to come about to face his ship.

"So you really mean to finish it," he purred, and quickly activated his own weapons, firing even before the other ship had finished its roll. "Then we shall…"

He banked aside as first one, and then the other ships, turned as well and returned fire. The Darts tried to pull up and get behind him. He too pulled back, firing again toward the three ships now closing again into formation, but the maneuver brought him dangerously close to the edge of the atmosphere, and into the path of the remnants of the shockwave from the explosion. It sent him spinning sideways, still firing as he spun.

For several moments he fought to bring his ship under control, expecting at any moment to hear the roar of another explosion, and then oblivion… but as his wild spinning slowed, a smile of satisfaction crossed his face. One of his wild shots had found its mark, and sent at least one of the ships spiraling down toward the planet. Of the other two, there was no sign… unless of course you counted the debris that floated almost lazily past his sensors.

He harrumphed softly to himself, a reminder not to become too complacent. Not for the first time had the Wraith believed themselves free of this particular individual. Then he turned once more, and dodging the remains of the battle, between the Lanteans and his Wraith brothers, headed back to his Hive.

Act 5

They'd barely taken the time to freshen up before they gathered in the briefing room. Taking stock was always difficult after a mission of this kind, but knowing how many they'd lost to the Wraith made it all so much worse.

"So you're saying the Wraith have some kind of new super-weapon," Sam sighed and leaned on her hand.

"They certainly have the technology," Radek answered, glancing at the empty seat beside him, "I'm still trying to analyze what little data we were able to gather."

"Look", Sheppard cut in, "we still don't know if they have it deployed in more than just the single ship. And that one's gone."

"What's your point, John?" Sam asked him.

"That we're worrying about the wrong thing. We know that Michael launched a number of ships before—"

"Sheppard," Caldwell cut him off. "Sooner or later, as painful as it is, we're going to have to face facts. They were prisoners and you don't put prisoners on board fighters you send into battle. You just don’t."

"What's your point, Colonel?" Sheppard snapped.

"They're gone." Caldwell said bitterly. "McKay, Vega… Teyla… and Lorne is barely hanging on." As if to soften the blow he added more gently, "The best we can say is that it was fast. That—"

The sound of the alarm cut him off and they all looked expectantly toward the control room as the technician called, "Unscheduled off-world activation."

He raced past the others to lean on the back of the technician's chair. His shoulder throbbed in protest, but Sheppard used the pain to focus. The others gathered. Ronon paced behind them as the minutes passed by with no signal.

"Anything?" Sam asked.

"Nothing." The technician shook his head. "No transmission, no IDC, just…" he shrugged, "Dead air."

"Just… lower the shield." Sheppard grimaced at the technician's choice of words. "If it's one of the others they might not be able to send an IDC," he argued urgently.

"And if it's the Wraith," Caldwell put in, "they may just be counting on that."

"But if it's one of our people…" Sheppard didn't finish the sentence. He didn't have to. He knew that the image of what would happen was firmly fixed in all their brains.

"John," Sam said softly, "The shield is there for a reason. If we—"

"Wait," the technician interrupted, "I'm receiving…"

"What?" Sam asked.

"Well… I'm not sure." He pointed to a diagnostic computer that was still attached to the dialing controls. It has been there since before the mission to rescue Teyla began.

Sheppard frowned as he watched. The waveform that was monitoring the stability of the wormhole fluctuated and changed. It wasn't much, barely a hundredth of… whatever unit was represented by the strange symbol on the side of the graph, but it was still changing, and in a pattern that was repeated.

"Sam, you'd better take a look at this." He pulled her around to the computer screen, and she frowned as she looked.

"Whoever it is, is manipulating the subspace radiation emitted by the wormhole," she began after studying it for a while. "Point oh six, point oh four, point oh three…"

"Six, four, three…" Sheppard began to recite the numbers over and over again, "Six, four, three… Six, four, three… Six, four, three…"

"HGH6439T," he and Sam recited the password together in excitement after a moment.

"It's McKay," Sam went on urgently, "Lower the shield!"

Each of them hurried down the steps to the Gate room and barely seconds after the shield phased out of existence, Rodney McKay staggered from the wormhole.

"Oh thank God," he said, before his knees started to give out under him.

Sheppard caught him by the arm, meaning to hold him up. It seemed to rouse him.

"Ow, ow, ow," he moaned, "Gash there… ow!"

"Rodney, what happened?" Sam asked.

"What about Vega," Sheppard asked at the same time, "Teyla?"

"I don't know," McKay answered, pain and exhaustion coloring his voice. "There were ships, he… we…"

"Give the guy a break," Ronon cut it, but Rodney went on anyway.

"He put us on board ships, at least Vega and me. Teyla he…"

"What?" Sheppard asked frowning darkly.

"Well he kept her with him, but…"

"But what?" The frustration he felt at McKay's halting explanation of what Michael had done with Teyla made him harsher than he would ordinarily have been.

"But they were getting his ship ready too, so—"

"—so there's a good possibility that she's alive," Sheppard finished with a triumphant glare at Caldwell, as he metaphorically thumbed his nose at the man.

"Rodney, how did you get away?"

"I… Considering the Dart I was in was crashed nearby to where I came round, I can only assume that the beaming technology malfunctioned on impact. The pilot was dead, so…" McKay swayed, as if the mention of the hybrid soldier reminded him of his ordeal and it was all too much for him.

"McKay?" Ronon caught him.

"I think," he said in a strange and almost squeaky voice, "I'm just going to pass out now, all right?"

A scuffle by the doorway to the laboratory made him look up from watching the simulation he was running.

=You said your work would be easier with subjects on which to experiment=

The Queen strode in to his demesne, trailing her fingers over the many instruments and vials as she came. Behind her pairs of Warriors dragged between them three unconscious figures.

~Where did you find them?~

He lifted the head of one of the prisoners, staring with near revulsion at the almost human faces – the traces of Wraith ancillary features, and engorged veins, clear on their pallid skin.

=fascinating, isn't it?=

She ignored the question of where they came from, and began probing in his mind for his scientific opinion.

~they will be most helpful, I'm sure~

He too sidestepped the question. He was unwilling to disclose his true feelings and moved to another of the prisoners slumped between the warriors.

The Queen let out a small sound, almost a chuckle, amused, he knew, by his attempts to keep himself guarded. She thought he revealed himself in his reticence; that he revealed the same contempt that most of his Wraith brothers held for these creatures and he was content for her to believe that. Then he bristled when her thoughts shifted to examine his memory of what had happened on the cruiser, when he had been outsmarted by the Abomination.

He moved to the last of the prisoners she brought him and wound his hand almost angrily into the long dark hair, to pull back the head and study the hybrid subject as he had the others, but instead he frowned in confusion.

Hissing, alerted by his surprise, the Queen swung around to face him and stalked back to his side. She leaned down to grasp the prisoner's chin and tip her head still further back. She, as he had, peered at the face, turning it first one way, and then the other. She searched for any trace of the characteristic features of the hybrids, and finding none let out a long, slow breath that came out as a dangerous hiss, before she ran her fingertips over the unblemished face of the young human woman.

"Doctor Keller?" Sam called her name as she, along with Ronon and Colonel Sheppard entered the infirmary. "You wanted to see us."

"Sorry to call you so late," she said, straightening up from the electron microscope. It was well after three in the morning, Atlantis Standard time. "But this couldn't wait."

"What is it? Is something wrong?" Sam asked.

Jennifer watched in almost strange fascination as the frown spread from person to person, first Sam, then Ronon and finally Colonel Sheppard.

"Rodney?" she said by way of a non answer, "Are you sleeping?"

"Are you kidding?" he came right back at her, his voice as testy as ever, and she made a mental note to discharge him in the morning. "With you walking to and fro and your technicians prodding and poking at me every five minutes?"

"Nurses, McKay," Ronon said quietly, "They're called nurses."

"Whatever, look, the point is: I'm awake." He sat up and came over to join them. "So what is it?"

"It's Major Lorne," Jennifer said quietly, the smile she would have made at the banter between McKay and Ronon dying on her face.

Mistaking what she was about to say, Sam said softly, "I'm sure you did everything that you could Doctor."

"No, no, no," she said, "you don't understand."

She paused, having no idea how to say what she needed to tell them. She took several breaths and looked between each of them, almost as if she could will one of them to guess and save her the difficult task of breaking the news. When none did, she was forced to go on and make her report.

"Given the information I was sent from the medics on the Daedalus, I honestly didn't expect him to make it to us," she said quietly and let out a sigh. "He not only made it, but when he arrived his sats were incredible. He was dehydrated, sure, but there was no sign of the internal bleeding they reported, or the head injury or…" she stopped and said, "…well you get the point. No sign of anything, really, and certainly no reason for him to still be as deeply unconscious as he is."

"So what's the problem?" Sheppard asked, obviously confused.

"When his blood pressure spiked a couple of hours ago, I thought maybe some kind of infection, something we'd missed in the initial bloodwork. So I took another sample for comparison." She nodded to the microscope behind her.

"Oh, God no," Sheppard moaned, "Not more nanites?"

"No, Colonel," Keller answered. "Not more nanites. I wish it were?"

"What then?" McKay asked, and she could see that the color was already draining from his face as though he knew what she was about to tell them.

"I had to pull the file to be sure," Keller said, "but I found a high concentration of a drug which bore a frighteningly uncanny similarity to Doctor Beckett's retrovirus in the Major's blood."

"What do you mean, similarity?" Ronon asked, frowning.

"I mean it's a drug that could have been based off the same research, though it's entirely more stable. It's Wraith in origin. So I looked deeper." She looked around at the Major and said softly, "Major Lorne has been exposed to Michael's retrovirus. His cells are mutating and have already been subsumed by a high concentration of Wraith DNA. For the last two hours I've been administering the strongest NRTI drugs we possess, but it's hardly slowing it. Without help…" she swallowed hard, watching the realization dawn on them all, before she finished, "Lorne is going to become one of his hybrids."

[imaswellkid]

I always read Frankie in that scene like hes doing it almost put of resentment. He's the one who clearly wanted to do any of this the least and Ive always wondered if he agreed to go partially beacuse he would feel guilty for being the only one to abandon them.

But his relationship with Tom seemed a bit rocky or complicated and now hes dead, and that guilt keepa rising. Like even in death, Toms still managed to keep Frankie feeling shame or guilt into doing what he wants. And in that moment it felt like he was done with it.

He signs it so abruptly and sort of aggressively as if this is the last time. Like he gives this up and he can finally be done with the guilt tripping pressure Toms always put on his life and he thinks giving his share up will finally free him from this obligation he unwillingly has towards a now dead man.

Hes exhausted and somewhat resentful and Tom is at the centre of all of it and he just takes that offer as an out to be done with this feeling.

Molly though, I'd have some words for her considering she wasn't even married to Tom anymore and her share should go to their kids alone. She should know very well what his shortcomings were and should logically suspect Toms own actions may led to this. And that maybe its selfish to force the others to give that up for what Tom caused for himself.

(Of course in my little world me and Molly would be having a stern chat about how leaving Frankie with nothing after whats likely going to be a traumatic memory for all of them, is borderline cruel and a bad situation to keep a recovering addict in when hes the one who tried to avoid everything Tom did and still had Tom put all of his own guilt onto Frankie that scene in the rain Tom I could strangle you you said nothing while Frankie was drowning in a guilt thats not his fault)

Thank you so much for sending that ask my way 💕💕💕

Hard agree on all accounts, here, Nonnie. Especially the strangling Tom part during the scene under the rain. And I don’t think I’d be that gentle, I’d fucking make it bloody, and I’d make it last.

😇

Tom is toxic. A piece of shit. Doesn’t own up to anything. Can’t even pay for child support, as the “notes” Molly leaves on the fridge for him in the garage demonstrate. You know, the one he looks and huffs at before cracking a beer open and taking the wheel to drive his kid to school. A real class act 😒

Santi gives him a chance to come clean when they’re in the jungle after leaving the village, and he sticks to his lie. By default, he pins it on Frankie who was the other one with a gun (I’ve watched that scene in literal slow mo so many times, none of his shots reach their target, bless him, he’s a pilot, not a sniper) but he might as well have pinned it on Will or Ben, had it been them up on that hill.

And it’s convenient because Frankie is already riddled with guilt, layers and layers of it, so he just shoulders one more, to burden his soul, because he thinks himself guilty anyway, for so many things (come here my love I’ll fix you).

You’re right, he’s the most reluctant to go, comes across as the least greedy, despite having a family to provide for, and the Millers and him are the ones to call out Tom on his bs when he loses them precious time in Lorea’s house. Frankie’s tired, he’s had enough, he wants to go the fuck home. That shot he fires in the kitchen, the one that glints in his eyes, shows us one more crack. It is going to be traumatic (come here my love I’ll fix you). The way he barely contains his anger at the end when they reach the coast. He’ll do just about anything to go home, he’s had it. So he signs that damn paper. And tries to move on.

As for Molly, in her defence, I think she’s wholly unaware of any of this. I think in this final scene, with that woman I assume to be a lawyer or an accountant, they’re still down there, they haven’t gone home yet. I think they just take it upon them to “fix” it, I really don’t think she knows about the family trust. But yeah, you’re right, let’s reach out to her and ask her to please give back some of that cash to the Morales 😁

I… am sorry this is so long. I’m way too passionate about this movie and could talk about it for hours on end. And I’d slash throats for this idiot.

(All gifs @nicolethered)

[ventismommy]

“Pets”

baal/Venti/Zhongli smut

warnings: overstim, edging, degradation, inappropriate use of visions, dom!baal

Venti was the first to stir awake, his vision hazy. The bonds of Electro around his wrists tingled against his pale skin, making him let out a small sound of discomfort that echoed in the silent room.

Zhongli awoke not long after, a deep groan escaping him as he realized he was in the same position as Venti- wrists bound, clothes torn and skin bruised, kneeling before…a throne?

Each of them realized their surroundings as they looked up.

Before them was an elaborate amethyst and yumemiru wood throne, backed by intricate screens covering the walls, all displaying the Electro sigil. And on the throne rested the Empress of Eternity, the Raiden Shogun herself.

Baal.

The expression on her face was nigh unreadable, but her posture was as unbothered as ever, legs crossed nonchalantly and her head resting in her hand as she leaned on one arm of the throne. Her guards were nowhere to be seen, but even without them, her presence was intimidating.

“So…the impotent gods themselves. It’s been a while. Barbatos, Morax.”

Zhongli’s low voice was the first to speak back. “I must say, Baal, this seems quite like a threat. Hardly polite behavior when addressing another archon-“

“Hush. You have no Gnosis, either of you. I see no archons before me. Only two fallen gods who failed to keep their reign intact.”

She stood gracefully, heels clicking against the wooden floor as she approached them. As she walked past, she gripped Venti’s hair and pulled harshly, forcing him to look back at her. The sudden movement forced a yelp from the bard.

“You have been silent, Barbatos…perhaps you suspect already why you have been brought here?”

“I-I-“ Venti’s usual snarky response refused to come, and even his stuttering was cut off by another high-pitched sound as she yanked his hair again. With a few steps she was in front of him, and she crouched to meet his eyes. Her half-gloved hand reached out to grab his chin, turning his face side to side before forcing him to face her again. He met her eyes for just a moment, but already she could see fear being replaced by…excitement? What a pathetic little masochist, she thought as she stood up abruptly, releasing his jaw.

“I will tell you why you have been brought here. So I may offer you a choice.”

“Your precious Traveler has been defeated. And yet again, you have failed to end my reign. It is only a matter of time before Inazuma reigns eternal not just over these islands, but over Mondstadt and Liyue as well. Of course, I will not offer you a place as my equal, but…even gods get lonely over the expanse of eternity. So I offer you this. Fight against me and lose, sentencing your kingdoms to destruction. Or…take your place kneeling by my throne, enjoy a life of comfort, and…your kingdoms shall be safe under my rule.”

Both were silent in response- and Baal was not having that. She glared at them.

“Perhaps I did not make myself clear. You either die fighting for regions who will be decimated the moment I strike you down, or you protect your homes and become, well…”

“Pets.”

Zhongli froze instantly, but Venti was still so hazy that it took him a moment to process. When he did, he went silent with shock, staring at Baal in that same mix of fear and excitement. She narrowed her eyes. Obviously Morax would be harder to break…

“You are not convinced? Hmm. Well…perhaps I may have to put in some extra work.”

Baal rose to her feet and approached Venti, gripping his hair again- though, gentler this time than before. Her hand moved down to caress his cheek, and a barely audible whine escaped his throat. She knelt in front of him, meeting his eyes steadily.

“You’ll be a good pet, yes?”

Venti hesitated for only a moment before nodding fervently, leaning into her hand. Her hand was just so soft…he was doing this to save Mondstadt, right?

Right?

She half-sneered at him, grabbing the collar of his shirt and pulling him forward by it, towards her throne. He stumbled, unable to crawl properly with his hands bound, but he certainly tried his best to make it to the throne. When Baal finally settled into her seat, she smiled at him and freed his hands from the electro bonds. “Good boy,” she cooed with a condescending leer. “Up onto my lap now.”

Venti scrambled to obey, crawling up into her plush lap, but she clicked her tongue at him. “Other way, pet. Face Morax, will you?” He nodded again and turned, hesitantly meeting Zhongli’s eyes. The expression in them was a mixture of shock and disgust at how easily Venti had broken, but somehow the disgust just spurred him on.

Baal’s arms wrapped around Venti’s waist to begin undoing the buttons of his shirt. She left it on once she was done, hanging open on the anemo archon’s small frame, and let him shift his hips up so she could tug off his shorts and tights. He scrambled to do so, and when he was finally bare besides his shirt, he had to hold back an impatient whine, trying to sneakily grind his cock against the arm around his waist. Baal just chuckled at him, moving her arm away just to hear his desperate whine as he thrusted his hips into air. “Aren’t you a needy little thing, hmm?”

The words were pouring out before Venti could stop himself. “Yes, y-yes I am, pl-lease-“

Baal hushed him, grabbing his chin with one hand to make sure his face stayed turned towards Zhongli. She spat on her other hand before wrapping it around his cock. The first noise that came from Venti was a sigh of pleasure and relief, but his whole body immediately stiffened up and he keened when he felt a tiny current of electro roll through his skin. “O-oh!” He choked out in surprise, bucking his hips

up towards her hand for more of that sensation. She obliged him, the currents getting stronger as his moans rose in pitch. Venti could barely keep his eyes open to look at Zhongli, but when he did, he was surprised to see a flash of excitement in Zhongli’s eyes, one that the geo archon quickly hid behind disgust.

“Look at him, Morax. Isn’t he a pathetic little darling? Doesn’t he fit into his role of pet so well?”

She paused for a moment to cover Venti’s neck and shoulders in bites and kisses.

“I wonder how long it will take you to break too.”

Venti’s small frame shuddered and jolted with each current she sent through him, and eventually one of his hands reached back to grip Baal’s thigh for support, his nails digging in slightly. “Ha-ah, oh, o-oh that feels g-good-“ he whimpered, the condescending chuckle that Baal responded with only making him squirm even more.

Then a particularly strong current came from her hand, and there he was, stiffening up with a shudder and coming.

Baal stopped for a moment in surprise, but quickly regained her momentum. “Awww, was that too much? Too much for your pathetic little cock?” Venti squirmed and shook his head no quite insistently, giving a few embarrassed whines. “N-n-o, I can t-take mo-ore, ‘m not pa-pathetic-“

“Oh, yes you are, and I love it.”

She gave him no warning before she started up again, the currents even stronger this time. Venti yelped and thrusted up into her hand, hips struggling her loose grip, but she gave a rather tame slap to his thigh, and he settled down quickly enough. “‘m sorry, ‘m s-so-orry-“ he hiccuped, starting to tear up with sensitivity. She shushed him, though her tone was slightly gentler. “That’s alright, pet, would you like me to slow down?” Venti immediately shook his head no, trembling in her lap. More tears started rolling down his cheeks at the thought of her stopping now.

“Nononono pleas-se, don’t stop!” He cried, his nails digging in further into the flesh of Baal’s thigh. “Want m-more, more, ple-please?”

Baal hummed in agreement, but rather than speed up her pace, she shifted the way he sat on her lap, nudging his legs apart until each one rested on an arm of the throne. Venti’s moans carried a hint of confusion now, but then Baal took the hand that wasn’t around his cock and ran her fingers over his tip, collecting the precum there.

And then, those two fingers slid down to circle his hole, and Venti nearly threw his head back in pleasure when the first finger slipped inside of him.

Baal had completely taken his breath away now, starting to curl her fingers in that oh-so-perfect way once she’d added a second finger. Despite making it clear that she was in control, she was gentle with him, so gentle Venti could fool himself that she cared.

She did, of course, but he didn’t need to know that just yet.

She was careful to observe his actions, desperate and lewd as they might be. He wasn’t attempting to rock back against her fingers yet, so she assumed the stretch must still burn a bit. Baal decided slowing her pace a bit may help, but then the tiny god’s hand reached down to wrap tightly around her wrist, as if to say, “no, keep going!” She wouldn’t deny him that when he’d been so good for her so far, so she didn’t slow too much.

It was another moment before Venti started moving against her hand and she decided that meant he was alright. He was full-on crying in pleasure now; poor thing was completely overwhelmed, and Baal tried to keep that in mind when she curled her fingers gently into that perfect spot inside of him. He jerked up in her lap with a high-pitched whimper at that, babbling incoherent nonsense that occasionally included her name. She shushed him soothingly, placing tender kisses against his pale throat, but didn’t slow, wanting to push him to that edge again. Venti started to double over as if trying to hide his coming climax, but she caught him, moving her hand away from his cock momentarily to press him back against her chest. Too fucked-out to struggle against that, he slumped against her as she returned her hand to his cock, her fingers still working inside of him.

“So, pet…how do you feel about my proposal now? Have I managed to convince you?”

“Yesyesyesy-yes, wanna be y-yours, please, j-just- just- just let me cu-cum, please-“

Baal chuckled, directing a wolfish smile towards Zhongli for a moment. “Go on then, darling, you can cum.”

Venti tensed up with a string of “thankyou-“s falling from his lips. His thighs shook as he came again.

Venti’s exhausted body went limp, and Baal kissed his forehead, shifting him to the side of her lap so he could curl up against her chest. “Good boy,” she cooed at him, stroking his hair as she carefully pulled her fingers out of him.

Then, as Venti was starting to drift off in her lap, she turned to Zhongli. “Your turn, Rex Lapis,” she said, somehow managing to make the title sound so utterly disrespectful. She tapped the ground with her foot.

“Here, boy.”

Zhongli scoffed at her at first, not moving an inch. But then she snapped her fingers and a band of electro wrapped around his neck like a collar. She made a come-hither motion and the collar tugged him forward. “I said, here, boy.”

Zhongli reluctantly obeyed, unable to deny that being treated like a lapdog made his core tighten. He crawled over to her foot, looking up at her. Her hand reached down as if she were a gracious goddess, bestowing a gift, and she brushed his hair out of his face before tugging on it.

“You see, Morax, Barbatos was a good boy, and he was rewarded for it. Only good boys get rewards, only good boys get their mistress’s hand. And you have not quite met my standards. So.”

She outstretched her leg towards him, never freeing him from the electro bonds the way she had with Venti. “Go on, brat. Get off on my leg like the dog you are.”

Zhongli gave a whine of protest, wanting more than her leg, but her quick glare silenced him as she turned back to Venti, whose face she covered in kisses.

He scooted forward and settled himself in front of her leg, face burning in humiliation, and started to grind slowly against it. The first moan that came from him was almost shocked, as if he couldn’t believe something like this would feel so, so good. Even his next few moans were choked as he started rutting against her leg a little faster, turning his face to hide it in the inside of her leg. His eyes rolled back in his head when she tugged him out by the hair, forcing him to look at her. Baal tsked disapprovingly at him.

“Oh no no, that will never do. You will look at your mistress so she can watch that stubborn, bratty face melt. Now. Continue. A little faster, if you think you can handle it; perhaps if you’re a good boy I’ll let you sit on my lap and ride my thigh instead.”

That was incentive enough for Zhongli, who picked up his pace with a whimper, holding eye contact with Baal the entire time. He almost wanted to cry in shame when he, still looking her in the eyes, started to pant like a dog, overwhelmed from how good it felt. But she just cooed at him and ruffled his hair. “Awww, there we go, see? Isn’t it nice to give up control, Morax? Doesn’t it feel good?”

He nodded with a whine that was significantly lower in pitch than Venti’s, but no less adorable.

“Words, pet.”

“Y-yes mistress, ‘t feels s-s-so good, f-feels- a-ah, hah!”

She smiled graciously at his answer, and then gestured for him to come sit up on her lap, next to Venti, who was slowly stirring awake again. Immediately, Zhongli obeyed, starting to grind on her soft thigh and letting out a moan.

“Think you can be a good boy for me?” She asked him, her tone almost bored.

“Ye-es, I c-can, I promi-ise-“

“Good.”

Baal shifted Venti in her lap slightly so Zhongli would have room. Venti gave a confused whine, but she soothed him with a kiss to his forehead.

“Now, here are the rules. You go on and strip for me, Morax-“ before she even finished that sentence, Zhongli was up and pulling off his clothes, tossing them to the side and settling back on her lap.

“-good pet- now, you sit here on my lap, and I’ll let you use my hand. But don’t you even think about cumming until I tell you to. Understood?”

Zhongli nodded quickly, a grateful moan catching in his throat as Baal started to stroke his cock. It took less than a few moments to have his head falling forward, his breath short and heavy. He squirmed as if trying to get away from her hand and get more of her at the same time, and she sneered. “What? You think you deserve what I gave Barbatos?”

Zhongli shook his head. “N-no, I d-don’t, but-but- p-please- I want-“

His sentence was cut off by a breathless cry as she sent those same electric currents she’d used on Venti through him as well. Now he understood why Venti had gone half insane over this- oh, it felt so good, slightly painful but good. His hands shot out to grip her shoulders tightly. When he realized what he was doing, he looked up at her with a panicked expression, but she nodded. “That’s alright, you can hold on.” He whimpered out his thanks as his hips started to jerk in her grip, trembling as the currents grew stronger. Oh, he was so close, and-

Fuck. He’d forgotten her rule.

He looked up at her again, this time more pleading. When she didn’t seem to notice, he pawed at her shoulder. “P-Please, mistress, please, c-c-ah- can I c-cum- I need- I n-need to, ah-“

Baal met his eyes with a bored expression. “Do you think you deserve it? Do you think you’ve been good enough for me?”

“Yes, Ye-es, I’ve been g-good, please!”

“Hmm. Why don’t we ask Barbatos.”

Baal turned to Venti with a soft smile, petting his head. “Do you think we should let him cum, darling?”

Venti met his eyes for a moment long enough to leave Zhongli panicking. Then he nodded weakly, and Zhongli sobbed in relief.

“Go on then, Rex Lapis.”

Zhongli completely collapsed as he came. While the electro currents worked him through that climax, he folded into himself, sobbing in pleasure. Baal petted his hair like she had Venti’s, comforting him as he came down.

“Good boy, Morax~”

Baal opened her arms for him and Zhongli shifted to mimic the way Venti was sitting, curling up against Baal as he caught his breath. He had to admit, this was…nice. Being a pet hadn’t sounded good at first, but if this was what he got out of it…

“I must say, I’m quite excited to have two new pets…”

[whirlybirbs]

✶    —   of gift-giving  ;    d.d.

summary: set post-s2 finale. din deals with the loss of the child. it’s life day. 

pairing: din djarin x mechanic!reader

a/n: happy holidays, babes, enjoy a little emotional blurb on christmas eve. i hope this serves as a happy little distraction from the world tonight. i love you all. stay happy and stay healthy. 

what do you get a man who has just lost his whole world?

before, it seemed like the possibilities for a life day gift were endless.

new modded-out wing thrusters for the razor crest were now out of the question (because the razor crest itself is out of the question), and that set of little, woolen jumpers you’d set aside after a trip to yavin’s third moon have no use. 

and, you seriously doubt din would find little joy in a new blaster. after all, he had enough anxiety resting in the palm of his hand alongside the darksaber — new weaponry would, no doubt, send him into an (increasingly more common) silent spiral.

everything was different now.

you’d seen his face that day, with the horrible moff gideon at your feet as a jedi knight’s robes kissed the polished floor. in the absence of his son — his kin as close as blood — there was something sad that settled into the lines beneath his eyes. if he cried, you did not see. no, you hid your intrigue; when he turned, helmet at his feet, your eyes hit the floor. habit.

but, that is different now.

now, on the eve of life day, you’ve grown accustomed to din’s face and the hot stir the sight of it brings. the feelings you bore for din are common place — they’ve burrowed a home in your heart for cycles, even before the child, back when you were simply an on-hand mechanic from mos eisley. din had taken you into his crew, and... well, you hadn’t looked back.

the kid — grogu — cemented the fact that maybe this was where you really did belong: among the stars, beside a man in glimmering beskar armor. 

at times, it was like he held the world in his hands. eagerly, he showed you what he could. it was one of din’s gifts — silent kindness that seeped deep into his every act. he had a good heart, despite his attempts at seeming more like a stand-offish rogue. 

this place, once home to jabba desilijic tiure, remains unnamed. boba fett has yet to find a fitting name for the sprawling castle in the dunes — but, for now, it is a haven for both din and yourself. fett, in age old warrior wisdom, can see that din is not himself. this period of mourning must be spent in a place of safety. 

every evening, over dinner, you thank fett. every night, those warm, brown eyes — as deep as warm amber — crinkle just a bit at the edges from your words. he can tell you mean it. if not for your sake, then for din’s. 

tonight, dinner is meager, but you happily inhale the ration aside fennec in the main hall. where dancers once leapt over the rancor pit like stars leaping across the night sky, the lot of you eat. 

din is silent. his jaw tenses when fett spares him a wondering look. between the two mandalorians, nothing is said, yet there are a thousand words. din is quick to finish. you watch has he rises, fetches his helmet, and wipes at his chin.

his footsteps lead far from the hall. 

boba speaks curtly. 

“go to him.”

your mouth is full of quickened bread, throat dry as you swallow down the oats that had been scooped up on the piece. you feel like a prey, pinned in place by fennec and fett. yet, no one is going for your throat. it is, in fact, kindness that’s seeped into their gazes. 

boba’s warm voice is cadenced with a gentle tone. 

“... and happy life day, sweet one.”

you find din alone, out the front gate and staring up at the stars. he’s perched on the edge of the long stone slab that once marked the entrance to the palace — but time and the changing tides of the sand have eroded the mound away, leaving a sharp drop off into the dunes below. there is another dune, to the left, that leads up to the palace now. fennec’s footprints remain from the earlier to trek into town. 

you watch as the wind, gentle and slow, begins to brush them away.

the twin suns are hot, still, despite having retired below the horizon nearly half an hour ago now. the sky is pink and hot red and it paints din all sorts of hues.

the little gift in your back pocket feels heavier than ever now.

“din?”

your voice is met with a grunt.

his head turns, slowly and ever-so owlishly, at the call. you near.

“i have something for you.”

when you settle on the edge, hip touching his, you’re comforted by his silence. it’s the usual sort, not the kind tipped with sorrow. you wonder — hopefully — if that’s your doing. or, maybe, you’ve caught him in a good mood.

“a gift?” he asks. his voice rattles through the vocalizer in his helmet and suddenly you miss the warm sound it carries when dancing off his lips, unburdened by the beskar. 

“it’s... it’s life day,” you say slowly, “or, well. tomorrow is, i suppose.”

“i...” a pause, then his helmet tilts, “i didn’t get you anything.”

you wave his words off, leaning to reach into your back pocket. you smooth your tunic and swing your boots. the little parcel, wrapped childishly in some tawny colored fabric you found laying around, sits in the palm of your hand neatly. 

the bundle, in din’s eyes, says a lot about you — about your feelings towards him. suddenly, with the force of a thousand thrusters, din realizes he hasn’t been very kind to you these last few weeks. he’s been frustrated and upset and angry and sad, so terribly sad, but...

he can see, in the lines below your eyes, that you have been too. 

“here.”

he takes it. and with one hand, reaches up to pull his helmet from his head.

the mop of brown hair is always a surprise. it makes you smile. a dash of happiness that comes as quick as it goes. din barely catches it. he wishes, earnestly, it would stay for longer.

“should i...?”

“go ahead, open it.”

he pulls back the delicately tied fabric, and all at once feels his heartstring snap.

it’s the gear knob. 

that stupid, small, scratched to hell gear knob that the kid was so obsessed with. he’d managed to scrap it from the wreck but... 

you’d gotten a hold of it. and you’d fashioned it into....

well, he isn’t quite sure.

you lean. 

“boba and i were speaking a week or so ago about armor,” you say slowly, “he used to have trophies on his pauldron, but he mentioned that some embellishments can be highly sentimental. so...”

din pulls the knob, and realizes it’s welded to a chain and at the end of the chain lays a clasp. 

“might make some noise, clang around a bit but...”

“thank you.”

his eyes are brown. you hadn’t forgot, but still, the sight makes your heart hammer. his nose is sharp and strong, and his lips are upturned in a delicate sort of smile. you wonder how often that look graces his face. how often does it hide beneath his beskar, like the rest of him?

“it’s not much.”

“it’s everything.”

you make a sad sound then. you lean back on your palms. the sand digs into the pads of your fingers. din’s eyes follow you, and he frowns.

“i haven’t been... i haven’t been there for you,” he says suddenly, already moving to clasp the totem to his armor, “and i’m sorry.”

the knob sways. it glimmers in the setting sun and tinkers against the beskar like a bell. 

“we both lost him, din,” you say tenderly, “i haven’t exactly been ready to accept the fact.”

“i know, but,” he lets out a ragged sigh. his gloved hand reaches up to rub his jaw. to din, the action seems foreign despite being a recent addition to his body language, “we still have one another.”

a beat. a slip of silence.

“and i don’t want to lose you as well.”

the admission is soft.

it’s all you really needed for life day. 

you turn your head, eyes pulled from the setting suns, and find din’s. his face is calm. the sorrow there has retired for now. you touch his cheek gently. the feeling of stubble beneath your fingertips feels different — so different from when you’d touch it with your eyes screwed shut in the belly of the razor crest.

you kiss him. and he kisses you. 

everything is different now, but some things are still the same.

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Was rewatching twilight with my girlfriend and that scene in New Moon where Bella has a paper cut, and there's a moment where everyone looks at her like she's a legitimate meal- or in twilight when there's the miscommunication over dinner- idk, I just feel like there's not enough horror in response to their inhumanity. I'm not sure what point I'm trying to make, but I feel like she should feel less comfortable, given the danger she witnesses in her initial meetings with them. Or at least, should feel more awkward. Thoughts?

I’m sorry, these might be your favorite movies on the planet, but I’m going to have to just come out and say it. Your first mistake was watching the movies.

The movies are bad. Really, really, bad and bad in a variety of ways at that.

In this case though, I think a lot of Bella’s character gets lost in the translation from book to screen, and to be frank capturing this part of her would be hard even if they wanted to. And they didn’t for a variety of reasons.

What’s Up With Movie Bella?

I always imagine that the producers of the Twilight Saga films read through the book at some point. They expect a young adult supernatural romance that they will be able to successfully sell tickets to not only the original book audience of young adult women but potentially others.

They instead find themselves reading a story written by Vladimir Nabokov.

Edward is terrifying and not particularly charming.

He’s a brooding snobbish intellectual who never smiles. Worse than that though, he routinely drops terrifying lines that, well, Bella’s perspective in the book helps warp them into something palatable, in a movie the audience would be screaming, “WHAT THE FUCK?!”

How does one make Edward charming when he tells us the story of how he nearly methodically murdered the entire Biology class just so he could eat Bella in the most efficient manner possible? Or when he suggests to Jacob that he pimp Bella out to him and use him as a stud after they forcibly abort the child she has chosen to potentially die for? Or when he tells Bella she’s nothing more than a distraction and she utterly bores her when he abandons her in New Moon?

I just picture the producers reading the novel and at first screaming, then crying, then screaming again when Robert Patterson insists on acting more like book Edward.

So, the movies do everything in their power to make Edward palatable. He loses 90% of his lines from the book, much of his original personality, and to make Edward seem more likeable they make every other character much worse (Carlisle, in particular, takes a hit in the movies in order to make Edward look sane.)

What does this have to do with Bella? Bella is also made palatable and more relatable to the audience.

Bella in the books is severely depressed and has no self-esteem. Edward in a sense is the perfect storm for her, as he is beautiful, intriguing, and inhuman and through his obsession can validate her self worth. Pretty much every action she takes, every opinion she has, is informed by this depression.

Well, who wants to watch a lunatic and a depressed girl get together? That’s not appealing to a young adult audience, that’s just... depressing.

Bella also loses much of her original lines or, at least, most of her original personality. Instead she’s this weirdly antisocial girl who, for reasons, is attracted to Edward Cullen.

I don’t blame Stewart anymore than I do Patterson, they did an excellent job with what they were given. But what they were given was a script written by sobbing people who just want this couple to be something people will want. 

But right, your question.

Where’s My Horror?

In the books, there isn’t much horror on Bella’s end either in pivotal scenes, at least not with the Cullens. To me, this boils down to her depression. Bella in New Moon is suicidal, but before that point, she’s not doing too hot either.

In Twilight, she accepts the possibility of dying multiple times with ease. If Edward eats her in the meadow, something that we learn in Midnight Sun will occur with a disturbingly high probability, then it will have been worth it because she will have seen what he truly is and her life is worth so very little. Bella is willing to die not just for the Cullens but sometimes just to not inconvenience the Cullens.

In New Moon at the birthday party... Well, in the books we don’t get the slow-mo action sequence. To Bella, one minute she has a papercut, the next she’s been thrown into a glass table. And by that point Jasper’s been dragged out of the room and she just has to sadly watch as the entire room but Carlisle vacates. So, the opportunity for horror isn’t really there, it all happens too fast.

The horror for her hits when she realizes that Edward has realized the truth, Bella is a boring waste of his time, and he leaves her behind. 

Bella is terrified in Biology, when she and Edward first meet, but this is smoothed over in time especially as she starts to see the Cullens as a beloved found family. Who just happen to be vampires. 

Point being, I think Bella’s too depressed to fully appreciate how dangerous the Cullens really are. At a distance she accepts that they might kill her, and comes face to face with this possibility a few times, but that’s a risk she’s more than willing to take.

Because Bella’s life means next to nothing to her and the Cullens are people who at least try to be good.

Bella’s also noted to lack whatever gene humans have hard wired into them to help them recognize the inherent danger of vampires. She sees these uncanny, stone, people and thinks they’re gorgeous. Other humans do not have this reaction. This is what allows Bella to think Edward Cullen is dating material in the first place, which, honestly, probably saves her life.

Because if Bella hadn’t been interested in Edward... Midnight Sun tells us that there’s only two paths for Bella: Vampire or Eaten by Edward. If path one is off the table that brings us only path number two. 

[trve-grimdark]

Top Gun Maverick

SPOILER FREE Personal Review Preamble: First off let me say this. I am a DIE HARD fan of the first TG. And when I say that, I mean I used to watch it once or twice a month at least on an old VHS growing up. My dad was in the Navy, stationed on the Air Craft Carrier Constellation, and to say I had a hard on for all things Navy, Naval Aviation and F-14s is an understatement. So understand when I say I WANTED to hate on Top Gun Maverick but can’t, its coming from a deep seated love of the original.  That being said, I cannot help but love TGM. So, Pro/Con: Bad out of the way first because there isn’t much CONS -Longer than needed; Yup like every other fucking movie regardless of genre, the studio got this one to extend run time over two hours and some change. So, plenty of long, needless, drawn out talking, staring, more talking, more staring, and slow-mo scenes for no reason other than, gotta hit that time stamp. -The  CGI that was used in major scenes....is PAINFULLY obvious. Take a clue from the original movie Paramount, just stick to scenes you can do with practical effects when 98% of the movie is already that and not rush a bunch of CGI for spectacle.  -Mav is basically the only character. No seriously, everyone else does great, its just...at the end of the day, couldn’t give a fuck bout any of them as characters. Its all about Tom Cruise and it kinda shows. 

Well that’s is, Now on to the fangasming PROs -Excellent loyalty to the Original; In an age of post modernism, bullshit deconstruction, and disloyalty to once great characters/archetypes, TGM is a beacon of light. Mav isn’t some washed out, poor, old, can’t hack it, “wHiTe MaLe” has-been who gets shit on by everyone from his peers to his friends. No, Mav is a badass ace pilot, with the leather jacket and aviators to match and he shows it. And so does the rest of the cast by being right there to learn from and join him.

-Practical/real life effects and stunts: I mean, they put the actors in the damn fighter jets and it shows. What more do you fucking want? Also beautiful stunt work and camera. Unlike the mono-chrome of DUNE or other such films TGM is  alive with colorful/realistic sets and fast paced scene production.

-Great acting; Tom brings it, and so does everyone. Yeah there’s some clunky “its an action movie” dialogue and such, but even then you can tell the cast is hamming it up and loving it. 

-Interesting close out to the story; I hated the idea of a sequel to a film that was obviously a one and done. But, some how they managed to make this work. With the next gen coming into contact with the old experienced one, but each finding a stride and putting away old wounds in the process while F-18′s roar overhead was honestly engaging and edge of the seat worthy.  -Sound/extras/eye candy; See it in Theaters before its gone! Nothing like the sound of a F-18 going Afterburner in surround sound. Great humor sprinkled through out, not fucking MCU “joke a second” dialogue.  Also no shortage of eye candy. Boys get to see some girl aviators blow shit up and play beach football. . Girls get to see all the hard body fly boys and chads doing the same thing, just like the Original. 

Final Verdict:

9/10. The mid section gets slow and grinding due to the need to hit that hated 2hr+ mark, and yeah you can tell this was Cruise/Bruckheimer's baby as Tom is always front and center at the expense of other people’s character development, but that might have been what saved this from being another Last Jedi. Aside from that, FUCK this movie will fly you up to Mach 10 and light your hair on fire. Go see it, And fly right into the Danger Zone.  PS: Val Kilmer is a fucking trooper. So glad he could be in the movie for a cameo. Keep fighting Ice!

[ganen-cheese]

Do you think Mo will receive a confession from He Tian before he leaves? 😭 I feel like He Tian is grabbing every opportunity to flirt with mo in these few episodes.

Hello, Anony! This is a difficult but interesting question!

Maybe?? I honestly have no idea, Anon. I honestly can't tell what kind of relationship they have when He Tian came back on the Christmas special. Just that Mo’s defenses were sky high. 

I can't tell what kind of farewell they had.

He Tian expresses some kind of confession then Mo doesn't get a chance to respond because time was up. This is cruel but Mo was cold in the reunion while HT was lovey dovey so like maybe Mo was cold out of self defense because HT went away while Mo was still sorting out his feelings? Like just when Mo was reciprocating, HT had to go away albeit unwillingly. HT was waiting on Mo’s answer all this time but Mo didn’t even get a chance to respond?

I.. have a headcanon though that Mo started smoking to smell HT lol because he coughed when he smoked which seemed as if he’s not used to it. Please don’t mind me.

One of the things I'm most curious about is She Li and how he ties in to all of this before HT leaves. Why is his name not yet revealed. They're in a school where He Tian is so it's not really weird if more people from their school are rich. Not all rich people are mafia (but what if his family was lol or pays them and the reason HT is transferred is to ease tensions because father found out lol /jk). Like his obsession with Mo is not yet resolved. He Tian is putting a stopper on it temporarily by being Mo's shield. How will He Tian take care of it before he leaves? Maybe had his brother help to keep Mo safe when he's gone? Of course Mo has to sort out his fear as well, but He Tian will act individually anyway.

I'm thinking like, maybe the farewell will come after She Li's thing is wrapped up? It's kind of hard to believe He Tian will let Mo fend for himself even if Mo is trying to fend for himself so.... hmmm. 

Then maybe there’s some kind of not-confession “confession”? Maybe OX will surprise us and it turns out Mo expressed first in a time of worry or something... uh sorry, it’s turning into an action drama XD then HT just assumed they were a thing until he came back LOL JK. When will HT’s “is this a confession?” and Mo’s answer become a reality?? 

Maybe they might not have a traditional confession, but maybe HT will express something physical before he leaves and Mo senses the sincerity or neediness of it. 

Or no confession (;w;) I’m all for the slowest of the slow slow burns though (like after the time skip) but I know some of the people here have been waiting for ages (;w; )

I’m sorry for letting my imagination go wild. I really cannot tell what OX has in store for us! I’m excited! What do you think, Anon?

[wille-zarr]

The Mandalorian: “That’s My Girl”

In Fields of White ~ Chapter Nine ~ “That’s My Girl”

masterlist / previous chapter / next chapter

pairing: din djarin (the mandalorian) x f!reader

warnings: rated M for language; smoking; violence; mild descriptions of wounds; mild sexual themes; angst

word count: 14.4k

chapter summary: heartbroken and grief-stricken, you do everything within your power to stay hidden away from danger… and din djarin. but when plans go horrifically awry, you have no choice but to face down a ghost from your past.

story summary: fleeing from the life you wish more than anything to forget, you are left to navigate the galaxy alone as a wide-eyed wanderer. in the process of evading the dangers linked to your previous life, your destiny is forever altered when you cross paths with an intimidating mandalorian and his unusually gifted child.

a/n: @sana-katarn​ suffered and nearly died for this chapter. give her a follow as a thank you from me. (though she’ll also happily accept pictures of cassian andor in her inbox instead.)

also found on: Ao3

In Fields of White

Chapter Nine: “That’s My Girl”

“Mando can’t kill us if he can’t find us.”

“Pablo,” Cara snaps. “We can’t just-”

“It’s not our fault the Mandalorian’s ‘girlfriend’ ran away.” Pablo scoots forward, a scowl etched deep on his face. “But he’s going to shoot us when he finds out-”

“Shoot you, maybe.”

“Pardon? If memory serves me-” Pablo waves a hydro-spanner at her- “we were both left to look after Mando’s precious little sunstar.”

“Get that thing out of my face.” Cara swats at the hydro-spanner, ignoring Pablo’s curse as it flies through the air.

Maker. She can’t believe she’s been stuck alone with Pablo for three whole days. The man is-

“Hey!”

Cara twists, watching as Peli stomps around the side of the Razor Crest, barely visible even with the moonlight.

“I can hear everything you’re saying! You’re not about to run away-” Peli juts a thumb at her chest- “leaving me with the fallout!”

“Oh, come on, Ms. Peli.” Pablo flashes her a cheeky grin. “You have 4PO to protect yourself, right?”

“4PO!”

-Crash.

“Oh, Maker’s mercy!”

“4PO! Get off the ground, for land’s sake!” Peli growls. “Pick yourself up!”

<my existence is but an illusion>

…

“Oh, kriffin’ hell.”

…

“Well…. Anyway… you can’t expect me to handle an angry Mandalorian all by myself!” Peli squawks, shoving at Pablo’s shoulder. “I swear, I’ll have my droids strip every last-”

“We aren’t leaving.” Cara shoots Pablo a pointed look.

He throws his hands in the air, avoiding meeting both their eyes.

“I’m watching you,” Peli grumbles, jabbing a finger at Pablo as she walks away. “4PO! I swear- get UP!”

Releasing a pained sigh, Cara begins going through the motions of loading and unloading her weapon, a distraction against the apprehension, the concern for you beginning to weigh heavy in her chest.

Sure, you might be impulsive, reckless even, but Cara knows you aren’t stupid- far from it, in fact.

…

But damn it if you aren’t being stupid right now.

Just… up and running away? No goodbyes? With bounty hunters- Mandalorian bounty hunters- trailing after you?

…

You won’t last long, and Cara knows it.

And you had to know it too.

“Such, a rash, senseless move. We could have helped her,” Cara mutters, rubbing her brow. “I just… why did she up and leave like that? She’s going to get caught within days.”

Pablo stops spinning the hydro-spanner long enough to chuckle. “So-” he quirks his brow- “you have no faith in that bewildering brain of hers?”

…

“No.”

“Yeah, me neither.”

Cara slaps hand against her thigh. “Blast! I just wish Din would get his ass back into town… Maybe I should take out a bike, search for him in Mos Pelgo.”

After all, every day that goes by… Maker, you’ll be only that much more impossible to track. And while Cara respects your independence- your freedom to choose to play the part of the sacrificial hero, in turn sparing your friends from further threat, she also knows-

Din’s… not going to take this well.

“If we couldn’t find any trace of her after three days of searching-” Pablo leans forward, resting his forearms against his thighs- “what makes you think he’ll have better luck?”

Silence.

“Pablo-”

“Oh, I know, I know. He’s an ‘elite bounty hunter,’” he mocks. “Deadly, efficient, blah, blah, blah.” He leans back with a sigh, stretching out across the crate.

“And you ought to know it.” Cara bites back a smirk.

Does she really want to get him going…?

…

Yes.

“After all, Pablo, you’re personally well acquainted with the Mandalorian’s hunting techniques.”

He shoots straight up. “I almost got away from him!” he snaps. “If it wasn’t for that Carbonite, I would have-”

“-Oh, here we go…” Cara chuckles, covering both eyes with a hand. All too easy.

“It’s true!” he barks, throwing both hands in the air. “If Mando hadn’t flung me into the freezing bay, sealing me within that cold, dark, terrifying… tomb of, uh…um… C-carbonite...”

Silence.

“Hell, Cara!” Eyes blasting wide open, Pablo leaps to his feet. “I’m getting the kark outta here!”

“Hold up.” Cara’s hand lashes out, grabbing a fistful of Pablo’s shirt and yanking him back. “Just you calm down- I’ll keep you safe, Babycakes.”

He huffs. “The hell?... Babycakes?” Stuffing both hands in his pockets, he faces away from her. “Uh, love you too, I guess? ... Um, anyway- I still don’t know how he’ll track her if she’s already left the system.”

“This is why you’re the scheming con artist,” Cara sighs, shifting forward to stand, “and he’s the bounty hunter.”

“I prefer the title ‘opportunistic entrepreneur.’”

“Charlatan, swindler, cheat-”

“Now kriffin’ look here-”

“HE’S BACK!” Peli yelps somewhere in the distance.

Cara’s heart squeezes.

Din.

Thank the Maker!

A wave of relief washes over Cara… immediately replaced by a tidal wave of dread. Cara knows he’s probably going to ask for you right away-

Shit.

“Cara!” Pablo hisses, rushing to stand beside her. “What’s the plan? Plan, Cara?!” He twists his eyes to stare out across the hanger. “Do we have a plan? What do we say?”

“Stay calm and shut up!” Cara jumps up, foisting Pablo back down into his seat, ignoring his yelp of protest. “I’ll tell him.”

“Just remember-” he lifts his finger, a brow quirking up- “I’m Babycakes. Don’t let him hurt me.”

“Oh, Maker,” she groans, burying her face in the palms of her hands.

“QUICK!” Peli screeches, dashing around the back of the Crest, flapping her arms in the air. “Act natural! SHOO, go away, droids! Maker, can’t you see we’re in a crisis right now? I swear!”

Peli slams rear-first into a chair, the seat shooting back a few feet against the momentum of the action. Pablo, equally as jumpy, begins fiddling with the random pieces of mechanical junk surrounding him.

“Oh, stars, you both look so suspicious- uh, Mando!”

There he is.

The Mandalorian is frozen beside the Razor Crest, the soft moonlight casting a hazy glow against his Beskar armor. Resting across his back, a bar strung up with gear and supplies weighs his shoulders down low.

He doesn’t move. He just… stares, angles his head to the side.

Oh, great. Just great.

He had to of heard all the yelling- he knows something’s wrong.

“Din?” Cara rises to her feet. “What- why are you carrying all of that? Here, let me-”

“No.”

The curt reply slaps her hands back.

“Well, someone had a lousy trip,” she mutters as she moves to sit back down. Even with her fatigued sigh, she’s unable to keep a slight smile from slipping onto her face at sight of the baby- only the tips of his ears visible from satchel resting against his father’s side.

The Mandalorian lumbers forward, each step slow, weighted, the clank-clank of his Beskar and blaster-casings the only noise reverberating throughout the hanger.

“…Sorry,” he mumbles, barely audible through his helm’s vocoder. Ducking his head away from Cara, he gently lowers his gear, resting it down against the hanger floor. “It’s… been a long couple of days.”

Even with the burden of his gear now lifted from him, his shoulders remain slumped forward, exhaustion, weariness tattooed on every square inch of his frame. The stance is completely unlike the ordinarily deft, foreboding Mandalorian- abnormal enough for concern to take root in Cara’s mind.

“What happened to you?” she snorts, raising an eyebrow at his languid, fatigued walk forward. “What- hell, Din, what’s that… green goop all over your armor?”

He doesn’t answer- just dips his gloves into the satchel wrapped around his torso, hauling out the sleepy-eyed, listless child. Peli- without waiting for permission- takes the baby from his hands, tucking him against her chest.

“You have a lot to learn about raising a young’un,” Peli grumbles, stroking a finger across the child’s left ear. “He’s too young to be dragged half-way cross the desert on some- some fool’s errand.” She glares at him with the word “fool.”

Din reaches a gloved hand out, his hand cradling the side of his son’s face.

“I know.”

Cara lowers her brows, concern and anxiety for you squeezing in her chest again, only building with every moment that passes.

“Oh, lookie here! He brought meat!” Peli interrupts Cara’s fretting, lifting up a corner of burlap with her free hand to peer beneath it. “DROIDS! Pull out that- no, stop! We’ve gotta cook- no!”

Cara smiles wearily as Peli bounces away, shouting demands at her droids. But Din stands still, unmoving, visor trained on the ground beneath his feet.

“Well, damn, man-” Pablo reaches down into his shirt pocket, pulling out a cigarra. “You look beat to hell.” He reaches up, lighting the cigarra. Pulling it away from his lips, he cocks his head to the side. “Oh, oh shit, what is all that green stuff?”

“Krayt Dragon stomach acid.”

…

“Kriff, man. Well… I guess that’d do it.”

The Mandalorian bends his knees, sitting down with a pained grunt. He sighs, deep, heavy, his head tilting forward to stare at the dirt.

“Sounds like a party.” A smile quirks on Cara’s lips. “Should have invited us.”

He grunts.

“On the way back, a group of mercs tripped my bike.” Leaning forward on his thighs, he glances back up. “Destroyed it. Had to walk.”

“Kark, they are after the chip again?” Cara growls, clenching her fists. “Just great. How’d they even find you?”

“I don’t know.” The Mandalorian shakes his head, his voice slowing with every word. “I… eliminated them before they could be questioned.”

“Damn!”

…

“Hey, so just to clarify, that’s dragon meat and not merc meat, right?”

“Pablo-”

“Just making sure!”

“Well, this little one would eat either!” Peli snorts, walking up the child, who’s beginning to fuss and whine in her arms. He pushes against her chest, motioning to be let down. “Alright, alright.” Peli coos, setting the child back down on the ground.

The child bolts straight for Din, a long, high-pitched whine erupting from his tiny frame. The Mandalorian obliges him, hauling him up into his lap.

“He’s been-” he pauses, staring down at the child in his lap- “…irritable since we left.”

The Mandalorian begins shifting side to side, almost nervously, in his seat. Setting the child against his hip, he leans forward with a grunt and stands.

“I-” the Mandalorian rasps, stealing a quick glance over at the open ramp of the Razor Crest. With a small groan, so small that Cara almost missed it, he tears his visor away from the starship. “I think he’s been missing… the girl.”

He turns.

“I… he misses the sound of her voice… her… laugh.”

…

“Uh oh,” Pablo mumbles under his breath, shoving the cigarra back in his mouth and turning his body away. At the same moment, Peli- taking Din’s words as her call to action- rips the child out of his arms, muttering under her breath to him as she practically flees from the scene.

The Mandalorian stares at the Razor Crest, oblivious to everyone’s discomfort.

“Is she inside?”

His tone is soft, affectionate…. Damn, there’s… just no easy way to do this.

“Mando-”

One word gives it away.

…

“Where is she?”

…

“Where’s the girl?”

“Din, it’s-”

“Now.”

Din isn’t speaking.

This is the Mandalorian.

“She’s… gone.”

“What do you mean-” his voice tightens- “she’s gone?”

“She ran away, man.” Pablo pulls the cigarra from his lips. “Lost to the force.”

“Pablo!” Cara barks. “Stick a sock in it.”

“We-” the Mandalorian drops to his seat- the word barely a whisper- “…we had words, argued, but-” He leans forward, visor piercing, burning the ground.

“Tell me what happened.”

His voice is hard- the affection, any hint of weariness, stripped from his words.

“I think she thinks she’s protecting us,” Cara sighs. “…From bounty hunters.”

The Mandalorian shakes his head. “No, that doesn’t make sense. We’re both involved with the Taek-”

“The same day you left for Mos Pelgo, she had a conversation with Karga.” Cara stands, frown deepening on her face. “He told her that three bounty hunters had approached him on Navarro, asking for information… about her- not concerning the events on Taek. About something else entirely. She thanked Karga; told him she would take care of it. And then she just- slipped away without a word to us.”

The Mandalorian just stares- stares straight ahead as if Cara had never spoken a word.

“…Din?”

“Shit…” he breathes, clenching his hand into a fist. “Shit.”

“Din?”

-slam-

“-Kark, man!”

Din lifts his fist from the crate, ignoring the crack he left behind. “We have to find her.” He shoots up. “We have to find her first.”

A noise- Pablo clearing his throat.

“Cara forgot to mention something.” He takes a puff of his cigarra, disregarding Cara’s warning glare. “The hunters searching for Sweetheart are Mandalorian.”

…

“Damn it,” Din hisses- a sharp rasp of breath through his modulator.

“Well,” Cara grumbles under her breath, looking down to tighten the holster against her thigh. “What’s the plan-”

“Connections,” Din snaps. He spins around, stalking straight for the Razor Crest. “We’ll track down her connections on Tatooine.”

“How do we do that?” Cara sprints to catch up, their footsteps clanking against the metal ramp of the ship. “We don’t know a thing about her, not even the name she went by here.”

The Mandalorian does not speak- does not answer. He merely reaches forward- slams his hand against the control panel for the ship’s Holonet display.

“Din?” Cara prods.

“‘Damn best racer.’”

She lifts a brow. “Pardon?”

“‘Damn best racer,’” he repeats, typing orders into the system. “A speeder bike race-” he lifts his helmet, the words from the Holonet display reflecting off of his visor- “she won one. On Tatooine. Years ago.”

“Ah,” Cara nods her head, beginning to catch on. “Find the race, and you find her connections, her sponsors. Sponsors she might have recently contacted for help.”

Din doesn’t respond, completely engrossed with the display before him.

“Hey.” Resting a light hand atop his vambrace, Cara forces her voice to soften. “You know, if you do find her, you can’t… force her to stay under your protection-” she pulls her hand back- “if she doesn’t want to.”

…

“…I know.”

He stops- stops typing- dips the edge of his helmet against his chest.

“I just… want to talk. Make sure she has a plan… Credits.”

He resumes typing, punching demands into the Holonet.

“…Make sure she’s… safe.”

With a heavy sigh, Cara stares into Din’s blank, unreadable visor.

Unreadable, yes. But that didn’t matter.

The frantic clank-clank-clank of fingertips pounding against search keys told her everything she needed to know.

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

“I have a bad feeling about this.”

The Mandalorian doesn’t react to Cara’s grumble- just keeps his head pointed forward. But the curl of his gloves; the clench of fingers against his holster told her-

-He agrees.

A flash of sunlight grabs at her attention, drawing her eyes to stare at the gleaming marble walls- a stark comparison to the dry, arid sands of Tatooine rolling just outside the building’s walls. And she ought to know- they just spent the last blasted hour traveling through a relentless sandstorm to reach the compound’s gates.

“Hey,” she calls, attempting to catch the guard’s attention. “Where exactly are you tak- oh!”

Two double doors burst open- revealing an enormous, palatial… dining room?

If you could even call it that.

Art museum might would be a better descriptor.

“Ah, it’s true- a Mandalorian!” booms a voice that practically shakes the ornate chandeliers hanging from the rafters.

“Now, I knew you couldn’t all be dead.” The voice, a Cathar, stands up from his chair at the head of the table. He shoots his fur-covered hand out to the side, his embroidered sleeve swaying as he beckons them forward. “After all, if you were all dead, you actually made terrible warriors, you know?”

Cara glances at the Mandalorian-

Uh oh.

Shoulders tight- fists clenched against his thighs- he steps forward-

“-Aric Thall!” Cara barks.

“Ah, so you’ve heard of me!” Thall bares his fangs in a… smile? “This should be interesting. Please, sit. Join me in my dinn-”

“We’re here on business, Thall.”

The air stills.

…

The Cathar sinks back into his chair.

“Ah,” he sighs. “So, you’re here on… business. Disappointing. Well, you’re not here to collect me, I hope?” the Cathar grumbles, glancing over at his guards. They stand with weapons drawn- ready to take the threat- Din- head on at Thall’s first order.

He flashes another fang-filled grin. “I’m innocent, I swear. My cousin’s the dirty one.” He flops back and sighs, letting both his arms hang off the side of the chair.

Cara rolls her eyes. “Oh, kriffin-”

“I’m here for information.”

The Mandalorian’s tone is hard- grit and warning dripping from each of his words.

“…About what?”

“A race,” the Mandalorian snaps, taking a broad step forward.

 “Oh, be specific- I’ve held thousands!” Thall flips like a switch, his persona flooded once again with jubilancy and charm. “But you have certainly piqued my interest.” He holds out a hand. “Please, continue, Mandalorian.”

Your Tatooine name- the one discovered after hours of careful research- drops from the Mandalorian’s vocoder.

“Oh. Oh,” Thall groans, squeezing both eyes shut. “Oh, don’t remind me! Wild little thing-” he presses against his temples- “she left me holding the bag with the Hutts when she disappeared after winning the Boska Springs Classic. Valen’s doing- no doubt. Her grandfather had no imagination.” Thall opens his eyes with a sigh. “When she wasn’t racing, she was giving me a headache.” He leans forward to take a sip from his glass, wiping his mouth with a napkin before continuing.

“Still, so much wasted potential,” he sighs, staring at the glass in his hand. “The girl was karking nuts. The only racer batshit crazy enough to cut a route through a Rancor’s den as a shortcut.”

Cara can’t help but smile.

Well, hell yeah, kid.

Her eyes drift up to Din, who’s now standing a few feet in front of her. Both of his hands are latched on his belt- his shoulders rising ever-so-slightly in… pride? Respect?

Perhaps both.

“You’ve not been in contact with her recently.”

The Mandalorian states it as a fact, his tone even, indifferent. But she- his friend- heard the disappointment layered in between his words.

“I didn’t say that,” the Cathar purrs, folding his fingers together.

“…Has she been in contact?” The Mandalorian slowly, carefully stalks closer. “Answer me.”

Thall chuckles.

“Depends on why you’re asking, Mandalorian.”

Silence.

“Or more importantly-” the Cathar stands, strolling forward, pausing in front of the Mandalorian- “what are you willing to give in return for my information?”

Cara can’t help but notice Thall’s eyes… drift across the Mandalorian’s Beskar.

“I’m not making any deals-” Din steps forward, closing the distance between him and the Cathar- “until you answer my question.”

“Fine. Fair enough,” Thall sighs, folding his arms behind his back. “She was here not that long ago, looking to reconnect with some of her old friends.”

“Where-”

“She’ll have left the planet by now.”

…

The Mandalorian’s shoulders tighten.

“But-” the Cathar throws out a hand dismissively- “I know how you can find her.” He grins and takes a step back. “My question is, again, what are you willing to give up in order to find that information out?”

…

“How much do you want?”

The Mandalorian’s words- dry, hoarse- linger in the air.

“Your Beskar-”

“-is not up for trade.”

“Ah! Fine- I have a… much more profitable proposal to offer you. Profitable for me, at least.” Throwing his head back, Thall grins at the ceiling- chuckles.

Oh, Dank Ferrik.

Cara knew she had a bad feeling about this.

“We’ve had a bit of a-” Thall spins his hand around- “let’s say, entertainment drought since the fall of Hutt control. We’re desperate for a good show- good excitement. A reason for a little friendly… betting amongst friends.”

“How does this concern me?”

Din’s patience is wearing thin.

“How does it concern you, Mandalorian?” Thall chuckles. “Well, you’re walking, talking entertainment!”

…

Dank Ferrik. He couldn’t mean-

“I don’t want your credits, Mandalorian; I want everyone else’s credits!” Thall holds up three fingers. “Three fights, starring you, my friend, as primary challenger. I intend to make a small fortune off ticket sales, and the betting?” Low whistle. “Credits galore!”

The Mandalorian tilts his head- staring straight at the Cathar- silent, unmoving.

“You’ll never find her,” Thall says through a clenched smile, “without me.”

“Mando.” Cara steps up right behind him, keeping her voice low. “I don’t think this is a good idea. He’s leading you on. He doesn’t know anything.”

“If he does?” The Mandalorian pauses, angling his head back. “…I’ll take that risk.”

He turns away.

“Do you agree then, Mandalorian?” The Cathar grins, already sensing his answer. “You’ll fight?”

…

“…I’ll fight.”

“Fantastic! I will jus-”

“But just know, if you don’t follow through-” the Mandalorian slowly, deliberately places a hand against his belt- “the last thing you’ll remember is regret for this moment.”

Thall slaps a hand on the Mandalorian’s back, grinning as if Mando hadn’t just threatened to kill him. “Understandable position!... Then let’s lay the rules out…”

Cara grits her teeth.

Oh, here it comes…

“You win two of three fights… and you get the information you seek.”

The Mandalorian turns his helmet, glaring at Thall.

“But you lose two of three fights… or die-” he smiles- “and I keep your Beskar... These are the conditions- I will not budge.”

The Mandalorian huffs.

“… I don’t plan on losing.”

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

You’re about to commit a murder.

“Curse me out one more time-” you bare your teeth at the Ortolan- “and I’ll stomp you into oblivion.”

The Ortolan just… screams.

“Fine! Fine!” you grumble, taking a step to the side. “Look, I’ll just leave the box over here-”

"-M, m buoou!”

“Okay…. here?”

“Daneeveo dueenboomo!”

…

“…What the hell are you saying?”

“Leeela duundao m…..” The Ortolan whines, yanking on his nose in clear distress.

Oh, to kriff with it.

You knew this was a bad idea.

But beggars can’t be choosers. This Ortolan crew was the only one which offered you a job as a mechanic, for that you are grateful. So, as long as you didn’t start a fire like the last repair you attempted, ultimately leading to your unceremonious marooning on Taek…

You’ll be… just…uh,  fine!

…

Yeah.

Either way, you’re willing to take that risk. Anything’s worth it to get off Tatooine as soon as possible. Every minute lingered… stars. You’ve already stayed much, much too long… After all, who, at this point, isn’t trying to find you?

The Mandalorian bounty hunters- you… you don’t want to think about them; what- what they might do on his orders…

Kriff.

Kriff.

Next in line to destroy your life, there’s the Nar Shaddaa hunters. You’ve already been karkin’ stabbed by one. You don’t exactly want to make it easy for them to finish the job.

And then there’s…

Din.

Mandalorian, friend, protector…

…

A good man.

And maybe you are just- completely delusional… But he… cares a lot about you… Then again, the way he spoke to you- the things he said just before leaving-

…

Does he?

…It doesn’t matter.

“J-just,” you push out, rapidly blinking as you look away from the Ortolan. “Let’s agree to move on, start fresh? Otherwise-” you force a tight smile, waving your hand at the starship- “this will be a long, long trip to Nal Hutta.”

Kriff this.

Kriff all of this.

You- shit.

Shit!

Squeezing your eyes tightly together, you spin away, placing your back between you and the Ortolan crew. Damn it- it’s been three days already! Why do you still feel- feel this- this..?

…grief?

You open your eyes.

That’s what it is, isn’t it?

Grief.      

You can’t help but snort, almost… relieved at the realization. After all, if there’s one thing you’re good at, it’s suppressing kriffing grief. Should be simple enough- no one’s even died this time, an overall improvement, you think.

You inhale deeply, pressing a palm to your cheek. Stars, this is going to be- KRIFF!

A hand on your arm-

You spin-

Hand to your belt-

Grab at the staff-

“Whoa! Wait! Hold on!” A hand grips your wrist. “Hey, wait!”

“Screw off!” you shriek, using your free hand to punch at the man’s chest. “Get away-”

“-I’m not trying to hurt you!”

…

You gawk at the man’s face.

Green eyes.

Sandy hair.

Tan skin.

Crooked nose-

-because you broke it years ago.

“Tesen!” you gasp, leaping into his arms.

“Hell!” he grunts, taken aback by your sudden shift in temperament “Kark, thought you were about to break my nose again!”

“Weeping Womprats, Tesen!” You grin, pulling back from the embrace. “Hell, I’ve missed you like a Hutt misses dinner!”

“Well, kriff then.” He flashes you a shy smile, diverting his eyes to the ground. “Didn’t know you felt that way.”

“You always were my second favorite guy-” an impish grin stretches across your face- “after Gavon, of course.”

“Oof-” he clutches his heart- cringes- “Damn, you haven’t changed, I see.”

Pulling him in for another hug, you can only laugh. “But you were my first favorite mechanic.” You bury your face against his chest. “Only one I’d trust to work on my bike.”

He tenses- then there’s a gentle -pat- against your back.

“Yeah...”

Glancing up, you can only smirk- his cheeks are tinged with warmth, eyes darting everywhere but towards you.

“Don’t blush on my account-” you laugh at his groan and pull away- “I’m not worth it, trust me.” You glance away, your eyes catching the Ortolan crew, just blasted… staring at you.

“OH, so were you lot just going to sit there?” you growl. “Let me get kidnapped?”

…

One Ortolan shrugs.

“Oh, fine,” you sigh. “Well, what do you do these days, Tesen? Still a mechanic?” you ask, your lips sliding into a smirk. “Still working with the racing circuits?”

“No, I work here now.” His own smile quirks at his lips. “Cargo inspector for the planet’s administration.”

“Oh.” Twisting back to glance at the ship, your eyes widen. “Um, I… uh.”

“Don’t worry-” he winks. “I know this ship is carrying… hyperdrives.”

You blink.

“…Sure.”

He laughs, giving a quick nod over at the Ortolan captain. “Let’s just say I have an… understanding with a few of the cargo captains.”

Ah.

No need to say a word- you just return the grin.

“So hey,” Tesen clears his throat, breaking from your gaze. “How’s your old man- Valen?”

…

“He’s, uh… gone.”

“Blast.” Tesen’s voice softens. “I’m… sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You slide the toe of your boot across the ground and shake your head.

Hardly…

He’s dead because of you…

“It- it happened a long time ago. Um, anyway… blast. You have no idea how badly I needed to see you again.”

Tesen smiles, his voice perking up. “Oh, yeah? I heard you had been in town, but I never thought I’d run into you like this.”

-Stop.

Your breathing stops.

…

“Wh-what… what?” You stumble back. “How… how did you kn-”

“Aric Thall?” Tesen raises an eyebrow at you. “You… don’t know? About the Mandalorian trying to find you?”

…

Mandalorian…?

…

Trying to find you.

…

Oh.

…

Well.

…

Guess it’s time to fucking go-

-a hand grips, holds you back.

“Let me go, Tesen!” you shout, shoving against him with both hands. “I- I can’t stay- need to- let go!”

“Hey, hey! What’s wrong?”

He releases your arm- touches your face.

“What do you kriffing think?” You slap his hand away, your voice rising, straining against the fear and panic and anxiety bubbling up your throat. “…Bounty hunters? They blasted hunt! What? Did you think they wanted to propose marriage to me?”

“Dank Ferrik,” he whispers under his breath. “You need to get out of here. Aric Thall- he’s helping the Mandalorian find you.”

…

Shit.

Shit!

Hands grip, squeeze your shoulders.

“I- I have no idea how they tracked me here!” The words tumble from your lips, your palm slapping across your eyes. “I- oh, Maker!”

“What in the galaxy did you do?” His eyes widen. “You always did have a penchant for trouble. You sure pissed someone off.”

You grit your teeth, choosing to ignore his blatant prodding for information.

“Tell me, Tesen.” Both hands shoot up to your hips. “Everything.”

Tesen shrugs and turns to sit down. “My cousin told me the Mandalorian cut some sort of deal- I don’t have the specifics. But he’s entering Thall’s fighting rings in exchange for information.” He raises a brow, leans forward. “On you.”

You blink.

“Wait… what?”

This… doesn’t sound right.

Tesen shrugs again. “It’s all anyone’s talking about.”

“I’m-” you stare at the wall- “so confused?”

“Yeah, me too.” He scratches his head. “Thall told him you visited, but that you had left the planet. That’s why I was surprised to find you here.”

“…Blast.”

You can’t help but chuckle.

“Then the lurdo is lying to a Mandalorian.” You shake your head. “Thall is going to get killed.”

“Good.” Tesen glances away, the hint of a small, timid smile on his face. “He… he deserves it- for betraying you.”

Returning the smile, it grows with the warmth crawling across Tesen’s cheeks.

 “One thing I don’t understand-” you sit beside him- “I- I was told three Mandalorians are hunting for me.”

“Maybe so, but only one made a deal with Thall- along with some tough looking woman.”

 …

You blink.

Oh… no.

“…The Mandalorian- did your cousin happen to… describe him?”

“Tall. Scary. Big cape. Big rifle.” He scratches his face. “Um…”

“Color, Tesen.” Your voice lowers. “…What color was his armor?”

“Silver. Pure Beskar.”

…

…

“Is he INSANE?”

Your outburst flings Tesen backwards.

Hands hurling into the air, you release a guttural growl. You- You’re going to kill him- Din Djarin- kill him!

“Whoa- wait-”

“Is he crazy? He’s insane! INSANE!”

You march back and forth, back and forth-

“A few days without me, and he’s already kronged things up- trusting Thall?”

“Hey,” Tesen butts in, waving his hands. “Clue me in here!”

“Tesen!” You stop stomping around long enough to glare at him. “The Beskar- Din- he’s… my friend! I- oh, shit. It’s… complicated. Super, stupidly complicated.”

You bury your face in your hands. “Thall- you know Thall. The man plays dirty.”

“Yeah, so? Everyone knows that.”

“Except my friend!” You moan, leaning up against the hanger wall. “Thall…. SHIT!” You slap both hands over your eyes. “Beskar! Kriff! Thall wants his Beskar! He- you know his fascination with- damn it! Din’s in danger!”

“Wait, what are you going to do?”

“Come with me to Thall’s.” You slap both hands against your hips, your voice taking on a demanding edge. “I need your help.”

“I- I- you know I would,” he sputters. “But I can’t leave my post or-”

“Fine,” you grunt, spinning on your heel. “Then I need to go find someone.” You march towards the hanger doors.

“It was great seeing you again, Tesen!”

“Wait, it’s not safe for you-”

“Goodbye, Ortolans!” You throw a hand in the air as you stalk past their ship. “It’s been fun, but I’m afraid you’ll be needing a replacement mechanic.”

Their cheers are cut off by the slam of the door.

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

His words are cut off by the slam of the door.

-Knock-

-Knock-

“Talk to me, Darling.”

“Just- just leave me alone!”

You sink to the floor, sobs rocking your body as you bury your face in your lap.

“I’m not a mind-reader, little one. Tell me what you need from me.”

-Knock-

-Knock-

“Let me in, kid.”

Grandpa’s husky voice is muffled, barely audible from behind the door. But his words were calm- always so calm.

“Stop shutting me out.”

Always so damn calm.

“I don’t need or want anything from you!” you yell, wiping away your tears with a dirty sleeve. But it’s no use- new tears just roll in to take their place.

“P-please leave me alone! I’m t-tired of you always telling me w-what to do!”

Silence.

"You go out of your way to find the most damaging, dangerous…” You hear him pause- sigh.

You know he’s lighting his pipe.

“Would you rather I left you to self-destruct?”

You only sob harder. “Y-you ruin… e-everything!”

“…I’m trying so hard to keep your head above water-” pause- “but it’s impossible when you are so determined to drown.”

You lift your head- his words beginning to ease your heart- soften your temper like they always do…

“You’re just so…” his voice cracks- “young, little one.”

Your heart shatters.

You’re so kriffing… selfish.

“I can’t control you,” he continues. “I… know you’ll keep running away… searching for whatever it is you’re missing.” His voice grows hoarse, pained with every word. “All I ask is, please, promise me….”

-Pause.

“Please, always come back. You’re… you’re all I have left.”

Footsteps.

He’s walking away.

You slide the door open.

Grandpa is standing by the fire, pipe in his mouth, flannel shirt rolled up to his elbows. He turns to give you a tentative look. “…I’m sorry, Darling,” he says, voice rough with his failure.

You don’t speak.

-You bolt forward.

His brawny arms open, receiving you in a tight embrace. You hide away, bury your face in his chest-

-and weep.

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

There he is.

Pablo- leaned back in a chair, faced away from you, smoking that stupid cigarra of his- oblivious that anyone even entered the hanger much less walking up behind him.

“Pablo!” You yank on the back of his chair with a jerk.

“SHIT!”

He flings backwards along with the chair, crashing- hard. “Don’t shoot!” He rolls to the side- stops- freezes.

“Princess?”

He blinks- tilts his head.

“Well, hello?”

“Hello, yourself.” You raise a brow.

“Where have you been?” He leaps to his feet, staring into your eyes like he still couldn’t believe it’s really you.

“I went to get bantha milk. Look, we don’t have time for this-”

“Like hell we do!” Pablo catches your wrist. “Now you just slow down a minute-”

“We don’t have time!”

“You had time to run away-” he drops your arm- “leave everyone worried about you-”

“Yell at me later.” You lower your brows, matching his glare with equal force. “You have to help me.”

“Help you? What, run away again? No-”

“Listen, stop arguing-”

“What if I like arguing?”

“Maker’s mercy, will you shut up and-” you freeze. Glancing up at the sky, you swallow the curses bubbling up your throat.

“Let’s try this again.”

He crosses his arms.

 “Fine,” he sighs, shifting his weight to the side. “Okay, Miss Runaway, what the kriff are you doing here?”

You open your mouth, but no words exit.

 A thought.

“Wait. Where’s…” Biting your lip- you turn, glancing around the hanger. “Where’s the baby?”

Pablo’s demeaner shifts- relaxes. “Peli has him in the ship.” His voice softens with every word, the anger, frustration draining from his face. “Little green kiddo really misses you, Maker only knows why.”

Kriff.

-a stab

-a lurch in your chest.

Damn it… you’re abandoning a child, exactly what you fought with Din over- he’s alone- alone and-

-stop.

Squeezing your eyes shut, your force your mind to refocus… just refocus.

“Keep your voice low.” You pry your eyes open again- shame and embarrassment bleeding along the edge of your heart. “I- let’s not upset the kid. He… it’s best he doesn’t know I’m here.”

…

“What? Why?”

“I’m not staying.”

Pablo blinks.

“I’m- I’m really confused right now. You’re not back to stay?”

“Pablo!” You knock your hat back, placing a hand on your hip. “Maker, can you please keep up? I’m a ticking time bomb!”

You step forward- Pablo steps back.

“I’m. Not. Staying.”

“Relax, relax!” He holds his palms up. “Just start from the top. Kriff, Sweetheart.”

Grabbing his hand, you peer at Pablo from beneath your hat’s brim. “Din- the rusted tin head- is mixed up in something extremely dangerous. He’s got to get out of there- now.”

“Oh, man. Stinks for him.”

“And I have to go warn him-”

“Oh, for sure.”

“-with you.”

…

“No. No.”

He turns- practically runs away from you. “No, no way!”

“You dirty- Pablo!” you bark, stomping after him. “Stop! This is important! He will- kark- Din could die! Please, come with me- we have to get him out of there!”

Growling under your breath, you continue to chase him down. “I can’t let this happen to Din, especially when he’s doing it to find me. Blast it, that’s why I left- so he and the baby wouldn’t be hurt.”

Stars!

Why the hell did Din agree to this- all just to find you? Did he think about the kid if he were to lose, to die? Did he think about any of that? No, of course he didn’t. He has some nerve lecturing you for your impulsion- yet here he is making the decisions of a karkin’ brainless Gundark.

…

He… he must really care about you.

The guilt, the shame that washes over your body distracts you from Pablo’s irritated grunt.

“Sweetheart,” he huffs. “Need I remind you that your precious Mando had me frozen in Carbonite- mailing me, postage paid, to my death?” Pablo throws you a look across his shoulder and keeps moving forward. “So, what makes you think I’d take any risk for him?”

“Pablo!”

“I don’t even like any of you!” he shouts, stuffing some of his possessions into a bag. “No, I’m out. I’m running away too.”

“Please!”

Silence.

“Please… then don’t do it for him.”

You grab his arm, trying to meet his eyes, but he refuses.

“Do it for me.”

He still won’t meet your eyes- but if you know Pablo- his silence means you’re making progress.

“I’m scared to do this alone.” Your voice drops, a mere whisper. “With all the hunters out there- I’m… afraid to go in without you, as much as it pains me to admit.”

“I need you.”

…

He throws his head back- groans. You bite back your own smile.

“Well-” he flops his head to the side- sighs- “I guess it’s nice to be needed. That’s certainly a first for me.”

You grin.

“Pablo, for once-” you give him a peck on the cheek- “I’m actually glad I saved your life.”

“Then-” he smirks- “I think we’re making progress.”

You giggle and slap a hand on his back. “Then let’s get going!”

You start walking forward, eager to get to Thall’s arena as soon as possible- but movement catches your eye.

You glance up.

Inside the cockpit- two little green hands are pressed against the glass-

Air catches in your throat.

You blink- then a hazy voice…

…

“…Mama, up! Up!”

Her little hands tug on the edge of your cloak.

“Okay, little one-” you smirk, hefting her up to look out the glass. “Dang, girl-” you draw her close, painting her cheek with kisses- “you’re growing like a weed. You better stop, or I’ll send you to live with the Lothwolves.”

“There! Look!” she giggles, pulling away from you to press two little hands against the glass. She looks up, shooting you a bright, toothy smile. “Shiny men, Mama! Shiny men!”

“Yeah.” Your smile fades, dread beginning to swirl at the base of your spine.

“Shiny men…”

…

“Hey.”

You jerk around, staring at Pablo.

He nods his head. “You ready?”

You turn back.

The little green hands are gone.

“Let’s go.”

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

“Hey, hold up- excuse me, sorry!”

“Pablo!” You glare down at him from the top of the staircase. “Get your sequined butt up here!”

You suppose there really was no use in glaring at him... After all, your entire face (glare included) is completely hidden by your vocoder mask, the same kind worn by the arena’s singers.

“Now, look here, yipe!-” he leaps aside, avoiding the crowd of spectators storming down the steps- “I didn’t come along just so you could bully me- arg!” He is knocked into the rail. “Oof- no, excuse you, sir!”

Pablo stomps up, pausing just in front of you, a scowl etched deep on his face. “I hate everything,” he grumbles, wiggling the collar of his jumpsuit.

“Keep up,” you sigh, turning on your heel.

 “Look, I know we’re disguised as performers-” he grabs at the sequined fabric stretched across his rear- “but did you have to steal me a jumpsuit two sizes too small?”

Rolling your eyes, you scamper up the next flight of stairs. “Oh, you look fine,” you bark back. “And it’s all I could find in the basement!”

You don’t have time for this- Pablo’s grumbling.

Din’s first fight could be- stars!- any moment! You have to find him or Cara immediately… which is easier said than done. Thall’s arena is packed- crammed to max capacity. But you know this building like the back of your hand- if Cara is anywhere- if Din is anywhere- it’s Thall’s skybox.

…If they’re still up there.

“Pablo, I- oh!”

“Whoa!” Pablo’s arms wrap around your waist from behind, preventing a nasty tumble down the stairs. “Easy- those heels aren’t exactly made for racing, you know?”

“Dank Ferrik!” you hiss, allowing Pablo to lead you to a nearby chair. You release a heavy sigh. “I’m ashamed of myself.” You glance up at Pablo, a rueful smile on your face. “Heels and dresses were like a second skin to me on Nar Shaddaa, and look at me now, tripping all over myself.”

Stooping down, you adjust the strap on the shoe, allowing for easier movement, and you can’t help but sigh. “I might feel nostalgic if I had the time.”

“Well, speaking of time-” Pablo turns- catches a passerby- “Excuse me, do you know when the first fight starts? Uh, with the Mandalorian?”

The man chuckles and gives Pablo a curious glance. “Son-” he slaps a hand on his shoulder before turning to leave- “why do you think everyone’s yelling?”

You blink.

No…

…

BLASTED STARS! 

You burst up from your chair- flying down the hall- Pablo’s shouts licking at your heels. “Dank FERRIK!” you bark, just before diving into the sea of bodies pressed against a viewing window. You try elbowing through the crowd- but no use. Sinking to the floor instead, you crawl under legs, desperate for even just a peek through the viewing window. 

“Ouch! Get off my- oh!” Your hand slaps across your mask. “Din!” you hiss, eyes blasting open at the sight below. 

Gleaming Beskar- surrounded by pools of blood and corpses… And one colossal, drooling, slashing…

-Rancor. 

“Kriff! KRIFF!” Your screams drown in the sea of spectators. “Damn it, Din! KILL IT!” 

This can’t be happening- this can’t be happening.

You’re too late- you’re too late.

“Just- blasted kill it! JUMP!” You slam both palms of your hands against the glass. “I can’t- OH- WATCH OUT!” 

The Rancor cries, roars against Din’s flamethrower, lashing out with a swing of its claws. Din propels backwards with his jetpack, narrowly avoiding the slice, but he, in turn, loses precious ground to the slobbering beast. The raw stench of burnt flesh wafts through the halls. You slap a hand across your mask, trying to suppress the bubbling bile rising up your throat.

Damn it.  

Damn it!

Your fist crashes into the glass. 

You swear on your life, if your Mandalorian dies because of this- because of you… 

-you will burn this whole damn place to the ground. 

It seems the flames only enraged the creature- saliva and bile raining through its teeth as Din turns- reassess his position. Your heart squeezes- aches- he’s cornered- cornered in. And- 

“Din!”  

He flings into the air- flames cascading down in a golden waterfall, temporarily blinding you. You squeeze an eye open- watching claws and teeth slice through the fire- 

-SLAM-

The floor quivers beneath your knees as the creature smashes its fist straight into the side of the arena’s forcefield. 

“Dank Ferrik!” 

“Holy shit!” 

“Did you see that?”

“Best show in years!” 

You sneer at the jubilancy surrounding you. To hell with this! You’re not going to sit here and watch your Mandalorian turned into monster chow!

You flip around- scrambling on all fours to squeeze beneath the sea of legs. Stumbling up to your feet, you twist your head- frantic to locate Pablo. 

You pause- blink.

“Pablo!”

There he is- down the hall- losing his absolute mind along with the crowd.

“You Nerfherder! Stop cheering!” Slapping a hand on his shoulder, you struggle to pull him away from the viewing window. “He’s going to karkin’ die!” 

“Stars!” he groans, relenting to your hold. “But I just put credits down!” 

“They better be on Din,” you yell over your shoulder, sailing down the closest flight of stairs. “Or I’m never blasted speaking to you again!” 

“That’s not a threat, Sweetheart!” 

“Carbonite man,” you growl under your breath. Well, he had better keep up because you aren’t waiting around, even if it leaves you unprotected. You don’t care. You don’t care.

You’re not even sure how many flights of stairs you’ve flown down- all you know is that with every thunderous cheer, with every whoop of the crowd- Din is one step closer to the end result of the fight…

Whatever it may be…

…Oh stars.

Once you reach the ground-level, your instinct, your memory takes over, leading you with straight towards the secured gate that opens into the arena. You cut around corners- heave past crowds- barrel down to- ah, there!

There! The gates!

“Shit!”

You freeze- legs tangling up at the sudden stop, nearly hurling you to the ground. Your eyes widen, staring through the bars of the gate, eyes glued only on him.

Din.

Smoking blaster- his armored chest heaving-

-and dead Rancor pinned beneath his boots.

He gazes down at the creature as if completely unaware of the wild, raucous applause ripping through the building. Re-holstering his blaster, he flings aside his cape, turns, and drops several feet to the ground. Shoulders rolling back in complete and utter ease, he hooks his fingers in his belt.

You smug bastard. A lop-sided grin stretches across your face. You absolute show off.

You blink, the smile wavering on your lips.

Maker, that stance- he- he’s… dang. Really kriffing sexy.

Kriffing sexy… and alive! You- you can’t believe-

“Din! DIN!”

You grab ahold of the gate, bouncing up and down on your toes. “HELL YEAH!” Throwing your head back, you burst into wild laughter. Maker, you’ve never been so damn proud of a man in all your life!

“That’s my Mandalorian!” you cackle, beaming ear to ear. “Din! Over here- wait! No, wait!”

But it’s too late. There he goes, blasting into the air with that stupid jetpack of his.

“Dank Ferrik!” you growl, pushing back against the gate. “You tin-head! You did that on purpose-” you fling both hands into the air- “to make me keep running after you!”

“HEY!”

“Pablo!” you shout back, turning to race down the corridor.

Panting heavily, he catches up to you with a few long strides. “Corellian hells!-” he reaches out to touch your shoulder- “don’t do that again!”

“Do what?”

“I couldn’t find you,” his voice strains. “I was worried you might jump into the ring- try and choke out the Rancor.”

“I would have-” you spin on your heel, squeezing through a large crowd of Twi’lek and human performers- “if I had a shockstaff.”

“Then you’re never getting a shockstaff.”

“Try and stop me.”

You can only smirk at the string of grumbles that fall from his lips.

“Come on-” you grip his hand- “he should be in one of the private rooms in the back. We can slip in and-”

“Hey, you!”

-you freeze.

An elaborately dressed woman rushes forward, snatches Pablo’s hand from your own. “You should have been in section four thirty minutes ago!” she snarls, tugging at his arm. “We have one final dance rehearsal before the performance!”

“…Dance?”

Pablo’s head whips around- staring, pleading with you for help.

“Sw-sweetheart-”

“NOW.”

All you can do is watch, slipping him a pitiful shrug as he is yanked away to Maker knows where… You snort. You sure hope he’s as talented at dancing as he is spinning tales, or he’s in some serious bantha poodoo…

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

Ah, here we go!

It took longer than anticipated to locate the corridor housing the private suites, but after a bit of frantic searching, you’ve finally located it. Unfortunately, you still have no idea which room Din could be within… Maybe the grand suite? Or the one overlooking the main entrance?

Well, you’ll figure it out, even if you have to knock on every last door to find him.

You have to admit, you can’t wait to see him again…

Stars! A grin bursts across your face, and you struggle to suppress a giggle. You also just can’t believe he did it! Hell yeah!

He killed a Rancor.

…

…for you.

To find you.

Oh Maker… You don’t deserve him.

You clasp both hands together, laughing under your breath. You’re just so… so damn proud. The second you see him, you’re going… to… to…

You freeze- the air squeezes from your lungs.

…

Well.

You…

You found Din Djarin.

Down the hall, entering his room-

…

-with two women hanging off his arms.

You just… stare, blood throbbing in your ears as they disappear from view. The slam of the door shutting behind them rushes down the hall- ramming into your chest like a punch.

Then-

-silence.

You clench your trembling hands into fists, your nails digging, cutting into your palms.

…

Well.

Guess someone’s having a little celebratory fun… What the blazes do you do? Go knock? Interrupt… whatever?

…

No. You know what?

Kark him.

You press both hands against your thighs, flames beginning to tinge along the edge of your vision. Clenching your jaw, you throw back your shoulders, spin around, and march down the hall.

Why- Maker!- what’s wrong with you? Turn around- go bang on his door- get him out of here. That was the plan- stick to it!

But you…. you’re-

-ridiculous.

The fire scorching the edge of your vision is extinguished by a watery flood. You reach up to wipe your eyes with a glittery sleeve, but- kriff!- the mask prevents it.

Maker above! Karking crying? Damn, you’re embarrassed on behalf of yourself! Why do you care so much what he does? Stars! He’s free to do whatever damn thing he wants… the lurdo.

You’ve never even seen his face! How kriffin’ old is the Mandalorian anyway? Stars, he- he probably just sees you as some stupid girl who can’t stay out of trouble without him! Killed a Rancor because he feels sorry for you!

After all, if there’s one thing you’ve learned about the Mandalorian since the day he pulled you from the sands of Taek, it’s that he has a penchant for collecting friends, pathetic rescues- pathetic rescues like yourself.

That’s all you are to him.

Your lower lip trembles- whether in furor or dejection, you aren’t certain.

…Kriff him!

You grind your teeth, forcing your lip to still.

Stop. It… doesn’t matter what he does.

Your… your feelings for him aren’t… real. You’ve always known that- acknowledged that. You know you’re susceptible to silly daydreams; you’re desperate for attention- a home- a family…

And Din Djarin gave you all of that.

So, no- this burst of emotion? These karking tears?

You clench your hands into fists.

They mean nothing.

Just… manifestations of your loneliness.

But- but still… you had always thought that… his feelings were real…

…

But they’re not.

Which is… good.

If the Mandalorian had real feelings for you, the moment he learned what you’ve done, who you are... No, you were right to run away the first time, for more reasons than one. You- you have to stick to that plan.

It… is what it is.

…

But damn, do you hate him right now.

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

~I can’t let the way you are influence me~

Shut up, Din.

~You make rash, impulsive, emotional decisions~

Shut up! Maker, just shut up!

~We’re done here~

“Yeah,” you growl aloud, trailing behind the flow of people filtering into the arena’s entertainment hall. “We are done, Din Djarin.”

Your first step into the arena’s entertainment hall is a time machine, spinning you back to a time and place you thought you’d never relive. Yet here you are- in the room from your memories- only this time you’re back to search for your dumbass friend in a sparkly jumpsuit.

Maker!

Your eyes trail upwards, following the natural light. Ah, there’s balconies you’d jump from with the crew! And the- you sniff the air- heavy scent of roasting meat still lingers, hovering in the air. The reverberations of booming laughter and mirth twist, meld together in the air. The echoes rise, just barely kissing the ceiling, before slipping out through the open windows and into the sunlight above.

You can’t help but smile softly.

But reminiscing is not the goal for today.

You’re leaving. Getting the kriff off this planet.

And Pablo has to stay and warn Din for you… if you could just blasted find him! Pablo- stars- the man is impossible! You take him on a field trip, and what does he do? Disappears.

Arg! Where the hell is he? Your eyes sweep the lines of entertainers, the tables of special guests- but no Pablo. Hell, did he elope with a Jawa and leave? This is the perfect chance for him to talk with Din! You swear, if he left you-

You gasp- Cara! And… You clench your teeth, biting back an audible growl. Karkin’ Aric Thall- the lying sack of Hutt excrement. There they are- sitting up on his favorite platform, the best view in the house.

You- you have a good mind to march right up there and- and-

“Where’s the Mandalorian?” Thall rises from his chair, standing at the edge of the platform. “Is he in medical? Surely he’s not snubbing my hospitality!”

The crowd murmurs.

-slam-

You spin around- Din! He’s just… standing in the doorway, both hands pressed against the frame.

A cheeky grin begins to stretch, beam across your face, until… you remember what he was doing the last time you saw him…

“There he is!” Thall chuckles, sitting back in his seat. “Come.”

Din remains motionless, silent- and the air thins, as if one wrong move could shatter it into a thousand gleaming shards.

“Uh oh,” you groan, wrapping both arms tightly around your body. You know the Mandalorian- he’s pissed.

In the flick of an eye- he’s moving, sweeping forward through the room- paving a direct path for Thall.

“Stars!” you hiss, moving forward on his mark.

You can’t hear a word of their conversation- but Din is none too happy. If you had to wager a guess… um, well, Din’s probably not amused by the Rancor addition to the fight.

Something tells you that wasn’t part of their original agreement…

Standing as close to them as you can without raising suspicion, you turn up the dials on your mask, amplifying the sound.

“Come on-” Thall’s voice cuts through your mask- “a true Mandalorian can handle any little surprise thrown at them.”

“A Rancor is a little surprise?” Cara butts in.

“Yes!” Thall laughs, swinging his arm to the side. “Surprise, it’s a Rancor! It’s good for business.”

Din tilts his head to the side. “No more surprises.” His voice is low- so low you almost can’t hear him even with the dial turned up.

“Understood?”

Thall just laughs. “Come on! My reputation is built around surprises!” Lacing his fingers together, he throws a leg up and over the arm of his chair. “You handled it like a Mandalorian ought to have. So, what’s the problem?”

“We had conditions,” the Mandalorian growls, taking a step forward. “See that you stick to them.”

Thall’s eyes widen in mock concern. “I have, haven’t I?” He glances at his guards before turning back to the Mandalorian. “You had a fight. You won the fight. So, you win the next fight, and you learn how to locate our... friend.”

Our friend?

Hell no. I think not.

It takes all of your resolve to keep from marching forward, ripping your mask off, and revealing what a blasted liar Thall is.

“You never explained, Mando,” asks Thall. “I hope you don’t seek her for a bounty. As many headaches as both she and Valen caused me, I do still have fondness for her.”

Ha.

Liar.

More like fondness for the cash you drew in.

The Mandalorian is silent, still, then steps forward-

“My reasons are my own.”

“Well,” Thall sighs. “It must be important to go to all this trouble.” He slaps his hands on the arms of his chair, leaning forward. “Who hired you? What did she do? Tell me- I am dying to know.”

Silence.

“Ah! So unnecessarily dramatic,” Thall grumbles, flopping back in his seat. “Fine! We’ll change topics!” The tips of his fingers bounce rapidly against his leg. “Sooo.... we’re excited to have a Mandalorian visiting here again! It’s been a while, am I right?”  Thall’s voice booms at the last few words, seizing the crowd’s attention. In a mixture between slurred cheers and boos, the crowd erupts, encouraging Thall to continue.

“I know!” Thall springs from his seat, staring down at the Mandalorian. “Why don’t we switch things up here, and you entertain us!”

Cara’s laugh is a bark. “Killing a rancor wasn’t entertainment enough?”

“Oh!” Thall chuckles, shooting his guards a knowing look. “I know! How about blade throwing? Or sharpshooting? Mandalorians are supposed to be good at that, right?”

The Mandalorian keeps his voice even, but his irritation is not veiled.

“I’m not interested in your games, Thall.”

Of course, Thall pretends he didn’t hear that. The man always was-

“Oh! Yes! Yes, yes!” Thall’s words burst through your thoughts. “I have an even better idea!”

Kark, what now?

You watch, anger only rising in your chest. Thall sweeps his eyes across the room, across the sea of faces-

-stops.

…

You.

Oh… Force.

He’s staring at you.

No.

Oh no.

"Put the dancer against the wall.”

…

Oh, FORCE.

A hand clasps your arm, and you instinctively resist- yanking against the hold. “What?” you hiss. “Wait!”

The guard lugs you forward, pulling a squeak from your lips. Oh stars! What do you do? What’s happening what’s do you do oh stars, stars, stars!

“Move. Now.”

You hiss. His claws dig, cut through your sleeve, into your flesh.

You… you have to stay calm.

You… can’t blow your cover. Stay calm.

…Oh stars.

With one final thrust, you are heaved forward, and you hit the wall with an audible oof through your mask’s vocoder. Sucking in air through your teeth, you fling around, pressing your body flush against the wall, the roughness scraping your exposed back and legs.

You blink.

Din.

He’s just… staring at you.

Unreadable as always.

Blast! Panic nips at your heart. Does he recognize you? Seven Corellian hells! Do you reveal yourself- risk a fight breaking out? Oh kark, your plan was to sneak out. Arg! What do you do?

You clench your hands into fists, resisting the urge to groan.

Hell. The things you get mixed up in…

Wrapping your anxiety up with a bandage of confidence, you lift your chin, awaiting Thall’s next move.

The Mandalorian breaks from his trance.

“What are you doing?” He dips his head back to Thall.

He flashes the Mandalorian that old familiar, no-good grin…

Oh dear.

“You’re going to show us your blade throwing precision skills-” Thall motions a guard, carrying a set of blades, forward- “with a live target.”

....

Live-

OH FORCE.

“If Mandalorians are as good as the legends say, she’ll be just fine.” Thall has the audacity to wink at you. “Or if you inadvertently kill her, well-” he waves a hand- “I have plenty more.”

…

The Mandalorian does not move- does not speak. His blank, lifeless visor is focused only on you.

And you only on him.

“Well?”

…

He shifts- glares at Thall.

“No.”

“Fine…” Thall purrs. He glances over at his guards- raises a hand at them.

…

“Then kill her.”

…

Kill? …Wait-

DANK FERRIK.

“OOF!” You are flung against the wall, a hand pressing, locking you in place. “No, no, stop-”

You freeze- eyes blasting open-

A man-

Blade extended-

Stepping forward-

-BLAST-

-BLAST-

Burnt flesh pierces your nostrils.

“Bloody seven hells!” you warble through the modulator, gawking down at the lifeless body mere inches from your feet- the second body also much too close for comfort. Your head shoots up, your eyes widening.

The Mandalorian is facing you- smoking blaster in hand.

“Yay!” Thall’s voice pierces the tension, his claps echoing throughout the silent room. “Excitement already!”

This is the flick that switches the crowd- their shouts and cries swirling together to birth utter chaos.

The guard steps up to the Mandalorian, offering him the blades. He stares down at them- to you- to Thall.

“Whenever you’re ready,” Thall purrs.

You groan. Holy Maker, you knew you should have sent 4PO in your place…

Squeezing both eyes shut, you swallow back your dread. Dank Ferrik, how the hell do things always go so blasted wrong? Should you reveal yourself? Ah, no, no, then a firefight would break out- he- Din- could be killed- or you- or-

“Don’t move.”

Your eyes blast open.

The Mandalorian- he’s… leaning over you- so close you can feel his warm, protective aura wrap around you like a cloak.

“Understood?” He shifts closer, his voice all but a rasp. “Don’t move.”

Well, damn it if you won’t obey him, but all you can muster is a pitiful nod in response.

He returns the nod, turns to leave-

“I trust you.”

He freezes at your words- turns to stare at you. His dark visor bores into your mask, as if he could sear straight through to metal- past all the wiring- and see only you.

But then he’s storming away again, palming a blade in his gloved hand.

You press your head back. Uh, wait- is this really happening? Kark! Well, you suppose you were going to get yourself killed eventually… Might as well be at the hands of a friend, right?

Right…

He stands at a distance- angles his head to the side, the blade firm in his grip.

Silence.

He pulls back-

Your eyes widen. Holy k-

-Slam-

You turn your face ever so slightly to the right, the ice-cold metal of the blade jutting from the wall a chill against your skin.

Your mouth drops.

Did… did he mean to get that close?

His voice hisses in your mind.

“Don’t move.”

-Slam-

Two.

-Slam-

Three.

-Slam-

Four.

You flinch with every landing, eyes squeezed as tightly closed as physically possible. Stars! How many more-

-Slam-

You hiss, and crack an eye open, glancing down at the blood pooling, dripping from your right hand. You moan, and tuck the hand behind your back, hoping no one noticed the graze.

The crowd bursts into cheers, the tension and silence eradicated by the Mandalorian’s final blade toss.

“She lives!” Thall’s voice cuts through the ruckus. “I get to keep my dancer!”

Flopping your head back against the wall, all you can do is groan. “Dank Ferrik,” you warble, pressing your left hand against your chest.

Hell, first he stabs your heart, then he slices your hand. If you weren’t about to run away again, you’d stay and kill Din Djarin.

A flick of movement draws your eyes forward. There- the Mandalorian- Din- he’s making a path straight for you, seemingly blind to the room, the chaos surrounding him.

You blink and watch him approach. You know it’s tempting fate, but… you can’t resist.

“Not bad,” your modulated voice mumbles. “Could use a little improvement.”

Din pauses just before you and leans his head forward.

“You’re not dead, are you?”

Your smirk is hidden behind the mask. “No-” your hand grips the handle of a blade, and with a tug, you yank it from the wall- “I’m alive for now.” You stretch your hand forward, offering him the weapon.

Silence.

You think he’s grabbing for the weapon, but he grabs your right hand. He stares down at his glove, your blood black against the leather.

“L-like I said,” you stutter, biting your lip- “uh, you could use a little improvement.”

 His visor is glued to your hand, to your blood. Then, his head trails up… to your masked face- along your sleeved arms- down your torso-

Oh kark.

You rip your hand away, stumbling off to the side.

You don’t say a word- you just run.

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

Step- step- swing to the left.

Twist- twist- spin.

Left- left- shake your body.

Thrust- thrust- pose.

Stars, thank the Maker Thall’s dancers are performing to standard Nar Shaddaa choreography. The last thing you need is to stand out even kriffing more than you already do… You know this dance, this song like the back of your hand.

You follow along with the line of dancers, your muscle memory taking over as the lights dim further- dipping the room into a neon glow. The bass throbs in your head, preventing you from doing any coherent thinking. So, you flip into autopilot- taking this opportunity to glance out at the crowds for a sign of blasted Pablo.

You gaze out- (spin, spin, to the left)- eyes sweeping across the neon faces- (thrust, thrust, kick your leg)- but it’s no use- (swing, swing, release the pole)- there’s just too many karkin’ faces!

As much as you enjoy dancing, this is a waste of time- (kick, kick, spin around).

You scowl out at the crowd, and your breathing stops.

Din.

Leaning up against the wall, both arms crossed, his visor is trained- unmistakably trained- on you.

Stars!

How long has he been watching you? Or rather… why is he watching you?

You twist your head back and forth with the music- catching Din out the corner of your eye a second time.

-Still staring.

Maker!

You rip your eyes away, your heart fluttering in your chest. Oh hells, now you wish you had never noticed his attention- you can barely remember the choreography much less focus on trying to find Pablo in the crowd.

You hiss, fumbling with your rhythm.

Blast him- the Mandalorian’s ruining your performance.

You grit your teeth, seething. Doesn’t he have his own entertainment to get back to in his quarters? You might would be flattered by the attention… if he knew it was you. But he can’t possibly know it’s you. He… he thinks you’re… someone else.

You can’t help but growl.

Kark him!

Not that you’re jealous…

Right…?

…

Kark him.

…

Ah! There!

Your eyes catch a flash of white light- a door opening and closing just to the side of the room. This is your best opportunity. You slip from the performance, fleeing through the door and down the side corridor.

Thankfully, the crowds are thinning out now, which should make the building easier to navigate- easier to locate your sequined companion. You continue running down the corridor, keeping an eye open for any good hiding spot.

“Pablo!” you hiss, ducking your head into an open storage room door. “You there?” You swear, if he’s been hiding this entire time- you’re going to kick his- YIKES!

A steely grip pulls, yanks you away from the door and straight down the hall.

“W-wait!” you squeak, stumbling over your own feet.

Your eyes shoot up-

Din.

…

Oh…. shit.

His glove is locked around your left wrist, dragging you behind him as he stalks down the hall. Stumbling against his pull, you squeak again, but he does not slow his pace.

“Wh-what are- urg!”

You nearly crash into his back at his sudden stop. The door to his quarters flies open, and he pushes you forward. You stumble into the edge of the bed- collapsing onto it with an oof.

Then the door slams shut behind you.

…

Footsteps.

…

Oh kriff.

You spin around to face him. “I- I can-”

The mask rips from your face-

…

…

His chest heaves.

His visor- frozen- on your eyes.

Oh…

…

Oh stars.

You stand- hands raised.

“D-Din… I- I ju-”

He grabs your wrist-

-yanks you forward-

-his arms crashing you against his chest.

…

Safe.

…

You’re safe.

…

“Dank Ferrik,” you groan, burying your face in the fabric just beside his pauldron.

His arms tighten at your voice, squeezing you even closer into him.

“You left.”

His voice is rough, strained.

You shove on his arm. “Technically,” you mumble, face buried in fabric, “you left me first.” Peeling away from his armor, you glance up at him.

His helmet dips down, visor trained on your eyes- your face. His arms relax, dropping to the curve of your lower back.

“But at least I had a good reason-” you pout your lips in playful contempt and jab a hand into his side- “unlike you… uh-”

You tense.

The cool of leather brushes down the side of your cheek- curves around your jaw. It stops- pausing just beneath your chin-

-and lifts.

“I-It’s good, um-” you force a grin- “to… see you, Din.”

Leather dusts your ear.

“Ka’r’ika…”

…

Damn, damn it.

That’s it-

You’re done for.

“I- uh- I…” you fumble, flicking your eyes to the floor.

Oh, Dank Ferrik.

You reach up, gripping his wrist. “Come now, Din.” Pushing his arm away, you take a step back- space to think. “Don’t get all… uh, sentimental on me.” Your forced smile tightens. “We- we can talk about things later, once we’re out of here.”

He, too, steps back, and dips his head at you.

“Talk.”

Crossing your arms, you can’t help but snort at his brevity. “Well, I came to save your rusted ass, Mando… Thall is a creep. He lied about knowing how to find me so he could con you into fighting.” Rubbing your temple, you can only sigh.

“Trust me, all he wants your Beskar.” You throw out a hand- smacking it against Din’s armor. “You flashy show off.”

Oh-

He’s caught your hand, holding it against his armored chest. His hand is warm, firm above your own.

And he isn’t letting go.

“We… need to leave,” you whisper, tugging against his grip.

He frees your hand- angles his head to the side.

…

“Come.”

His voice is soft, gentle.

…

“I’m taking you home.”

…

Oh.

“S-sure-” you clear your throat, eyes flicking away from him- “I just need that mask… wherever it flew, aha...”

Swooping to the side, you reach down, scooping the abandoned vocoder up off the floor.

“Hells,” you grumble, snapping it into place. “Um, hey, we’re twinning, Mando!”

Hooking his fingers in his belt, he just flops his head to the side.

Grinning ear to ear, you pull the mask away to shoot him a pointed look. “Tell me,” you ask, “how’d you know it was me?”

“Who else but you-” he takes a lumbering step forward- “would say she trusts me to throw a blade at her head?”

He has the audacity to reach up and tap your nose.

“Din Djarin!” Crinkling your nose, you take a swat at his hand. “I didn’t exactly-” you stick your tongue out- “have a choice.”

…

-a stab in your chest…a thought.

It’s petty, but…

“Oh, but I bet one of your companions-” you lower your brows at him, resentment resurfacing on your tongue- “from earlier would have also trusted you.”

…

“…You saw that?”

He stills- fingers flexing by his side.

“They… were in a bad situation,” he mumbles, barely audible through his vocoder. “…From which I helped them escape.”

…

“Oh.”

…

“So… you weren’t-”

“No.”

“…Oh.”

You blink.

“Not that I kriffing care what you kriffing do, Din Djarin.”

He just… stares.

Maker.

You want to die.

You just… awkwardly glance around.

 …

“I… recognized the scar on your hand.” His voice is quiet, hesitant. “Kept an eye on you since.”

“Oh. Kark, of course.” Stretching your fingers, you glance down at your hand. “Mmf, got this my first week on Nar Shaddaa- a homecoming gift, I suppose.” Sitting down on the edge of the bed, you grimace at the scar.

“When we first arrived on-world, the lower level was the only place we could find work.” You flop your head back, groaning at the memory.

“And, just my luck, my first employer was raided my fifth night there. Out of nowhere.” Rubbing your temple, you release a heavy sigh. “Those were… hard days. But- stars- I… I schemed, I plotted, I learned the game as fast as I could.”

…At a price.

The bed dips down beside you, ripping you from your thoughts. You turn, meeting the Mandalorian’s neutral stare.

“…And I made it-” a smirk twitches at the corner of your lips- “I clawed my way into the city skylines, upper-level opulence.”

He chuckles.

“Well now…”

Leather brushes against your neck.

“That’s my girl.”

…

Oh Maker.

…You hate he saw how you grinned at that.

“Here-” his glove drops, motioning for your right hand- “that cut needs to be cleaned.”

“Making fun of my doctoring?”

He grunts, focused only on inspecting the wound.

You roll your eyes. “I just went and-”

Oh.

He’s… tugged his glove off- tossed it aside.

“Here.”

His hand- his human hand- his tan, big, warm human hand- oh stars, oh stars- reaches for yours-

Blast it- stop.

It’s a damn hand, for Maker’s sake!

“Are you hurt elsewhere?” he snaps, oblivious to the turmoil his kriffing hand is inflicting at the moment. He dabs a wipe across the wound. “Have you been eating?”

“Oh, I’m fine,” you chirp. “Fried up a womprat leg in the desert for lunch.”

 …

“I’m kidding, Din.”

He blows a puff of air through the vocoder, and you can only grin.

Stars, he’s just too much fun to mess with…

“Blast! I told you- nhg- that you needed a little- ah- improvement-” you cringe, forcing your eyes away from the wound.

He makes a noise- continues his task.

“I might be the better blade thrower,” you snort, continuing to ramble. “But, damn, you killed a whole ass Rancor!”

“Well-” he shoots a quick glance up- “I couldn’t kill just half its ass.”

…

He has a point.

“I know! You should teach me Rancor fighting!”

“No.”

“Please? I want to try taming one- ride it through town.”

You hiss- he’s pressed a bactapatch against your flesh.

“That’s beyond my paygrade, Ka’r’ika. I’ve only ever killed one. Taming-” he looks up at you, tilts his head to the side- “…taming is substantially more difficult.”

“Are you talking about me now?” you tease, crinkling your nose at him.

“Your words-” he quips, his tone deepening- “not mine.”

You chuckle, your lop-sided grin only growing.

Blast it.

You’ve… missed this… missed him.

“Well, anyway” you huff, shoving against his shoulder with your free hand. “I still think you’re a banthabrain for even considering Thall’s deal.”

Silence.

One, two, three short tugs, and he’s finished wrapping your injured hand.

“…I’d fight a second Rancor-”

His visor lifts.

“…If it meant finding you.”

…

You blink.

Oh.

Watching as naked skin disappears within the sanctuary of his glove, a… thought occurs.

“Well,” you mumble and stand, flicking your eyes north to his helm.

Oh, hell.

Just do it.

You whirl around, positioning between his legs. He jolts back- startled- as you slap both hands atop his pauldrons.

“…You found me.”

You lean forward- plant a sharp kiss against his visor.

A catch, a hitch in his breath-

-and he leaps to his feet, spinning you aside.

“We… we need to go,” he rumbles, stalking straight for the door. He stops beside it, fumbling with his belt.

“Fine,” you sigh, snapping your vocoder mask back into place. You saunter to stand beside Din, who’s still fiddling with something on his belt.

Throwing both hands on your waist, you jut out a hip.

“Well, you ready, Mando?”

The door snaps open.

And then he’s gone- ducks right out the door, cape swooping around at his heels.

You can’t help but chuckle under your breath.

Okay, so maybe you’ll never tame a Rancor in your lifetime…

…but you think you just tamed your very first Mandalorian.

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

“Just keep an eye out for lime green sequins.”

At your words, Din angles his head back at you, his silence speaking a thousand words.

“No, we shouldn’t leave Pablo.” You shake your head, glancing down each hallway you pass. “I think he has abandonment issues.”

Din just sighs, resting a hand behind your back to push you forward.

“I’ll tell Cara where to meet us.” The Mandalorian’s voice is all business. “And Pablo- we’ll… find him.”

“Don’t sound so depressed.” You bite your lip to keep from grinning. “He’s starting to grow on me.”

Din makes a noise- then pulls you close.

“Stay with me,” he rumbles. “Don’t say a word.”

“Lips? Zipped.”

He glares at you- and you can only smirk.

Ah, ahead!

The entrance to the entertainment hall…

Upon re-entering, it’s pretty much exactly how you left it- loud and chaotic. As you blink up at the flashing lights, you feel a tug on your arm.

“Keep up.”

The Mandalorian’s voice is hard, a warning.

“I told you that you can’t use that voice on me,” you hiss under your breath. “I’m not afraid of you.” You shove a hand into his back as if to prove your point.

“Aye!” you growl. “Din!”

“Quiet.”

“Don’t pinch me.”

“Quit being a brat.”

Thank the Maker you wear a mask- you’d hate to give Din the satisfaction of your stupid grin.

“Din,” you whisper, tugging on his arm. “Maybe we coul- OH!”

-an eruption, a burst of curses and shouts and chaos.

Your eyes blast open-

“Pablo!”

There he is- arms pinned behind his back as a group of performers trail behind him. There’s… blood dripping off the side of his face-

-and he looks pissed.

“Sir!” one of the guards shouts.

Thall just sighs. “Oh, what is going on? Interrupting my party…”

“An intruder. This man was pretending to be a performer, and he refuses to explain himself.”

“This man is lyin- oh OUCH.” Pablo’s head jerks to the side. “Was that necessary?”

“Ack,” Thall huffs, waving his hand aside. “I don’t care. I don’t care who he is. It isn’t important.”

“Thank you-”

“Just kill him.”

“Wa-wait WHAT?”

You slap a hand across your mouth, but before you can react- Din is blazing past you- straight for the crowd.

“Din!” you hiss, panic welling up in your throat.

Oh stars-

“Stop.”

The Mandalorian’s voice commands the room.

“Yes, stop!” Pablo laughs at Din’s appearance. “Maker, man, I’ve never been so-”

“He’s with me.”

Thall just… leans forward.

“Is there-” his voice is hard, cool- “a reason you have a spy in my midst, Mandalorian?”

Oh… kriff.

You begin pushing forward.

“He’s a friend,” Cara’s voice interjects. “Not a spy.”

“Were we-” Thall chuckles- “plotting something behind my back?”

The room freezes- stills-

-ready to shatter.

Thall- kark!

He’s been waiting for a reason to do this!

…

He’s- he’s going to kill Din for his Beskar.

Thall just… smiles.

…

“Kill them.”

The room erupts-

Bodies racing- blasters flying- shrieks-

Everyone is either fleeing-

-or joining in on a fight.

You scream, ducking behind a table to avoid a flying chair. “Kark!” You reach down, lugging your heels at a passing guard.

“You bunch of creeps!”

But your voice drowns in the ocean of pandemonium.

“Blast it, oof!” you growl, racing past several men wrestling each other. “You’re all idiots!”

Shit, shit!

You- you can’t see any of them!

“DIN?- get back, you- MOVE!”

You shove past a stampede of screaming dancers, spying-

-Aric Thall.

You bare your teeth.

You look to Thall- look to the wall.

An idea.

“Oh, just kill them,” Thall yells, stepping back behind his wall of guards. “Just blas-”

-SLAM-

A collective gasp-

The room crumples into silence.

…

You stand firm atop a table, pointing a second blade at Thall.

“ARIC THALL!”

You reach up- rip the mask from your face- smash it to the floor.

“Fuck you!”

Not the best choice of words, perhaps…

Thall just stares at you.

“Uh…” He casually glances at the blade jutting from the wall… mere inches from his head. “Do I know you?”

Karkin’ hells, you’ve got to be kidding…

You shout your name, rage bleeding through your words.

“Oh, Maker help us! It’s you!” Thall gasps, clutching his temples. “I should have known I had a headache for a reason-”

“I’m going to give you more than just a headache-” you jab the blade forward- “you greasy furball!”

“Ack!” Thall flops dramatically back in his chair. “If you were anyone else, I’d have you blasted for that.”

“You liar!” you shout. “You lied about finding me-”

You pause.

-a voice.

-your name.

Your eyes trail downwards.

Din’s pressed up against your table, inches from your feet, his hands held out for you.

“Ka’r’ika, come down-”

…

You turn- reject him.

You… you know what you’re doing.

…

Din has to trust you now.

“You know, I’m truly sorry our reunion had to be this way,” Thall laughs, flopping back in his seat. “Look at you, all big and grown and bossy. And violent. Valen must be proud.”

Your resolve wavers at his name.

“How is Gramps?”

“None of your concern.”

“Oh, so he’s dead.”

“I’m not here about him,” you growl, throwing your hand to the side. “You lied to the Mandalorian about the conditions of your agreement.” You clench your teeth, forcing an authoritative persona. “You had no information on me. Therefore, the agreement is void, and we will be going now. Thank you, and goodbye.”

“Ack, now, I didn’t lie,” Thall replies. “I just… mistook another for you! My eyes are really getting bad.”

“You need glasses, sir.”

“I know!”

“Uhg,” you groan. “Thall, you’ve not blasted changed a bit.”

“You neither!” he chirps. “And you aren’t going anywhere, isn’t that great?”

Furor threatening to boil over, you rush forward, stopping just at the edge of the table.

“You OWE me!” Your voice strains. “You were nothing but a flea-bitten scrap pile to the Hutts until I-” you jab a thumb at your chest- “came around- until I convinced my friends to give you the time of day- race under your banner.”  

“You over-estimate your influence, I think.”

Then he- he laughs at you.

Red flashes, pulses in your eyes.

You- you want- you’re going to-

“Mandalorian.”

Thall crosses his legs, smiles at Din- now standing just behind you on the table.

“You can try and leave, but you-” he throws his hands up; makes a face- “will not make it out alive. Sorry!”

Oh-

That’s karking it-

You start forward. “Thall, I’m going to break-”

“Don’t hurt her.”

The Mandalorian yanks you back- pushes you behind him.

“…Our deal is still on.”

…

“I will fight.”

“Din!” you growl, grasping onto his cloak. “No- you stupid metal-”

“Hurt her-” he steps forward, pushing you back- “…and you’ll beg for me to kill you.”

Thall huffs.

“I don’t kindly to threats, Mando…”

Your eyes catch movement- Din’s hand… hovering above his blaster-

Kriff… No!

You lunge forward-

“A RACE!”

…

Thall tilts his head at you.

“Uh…Care to explain?”

You… you have to do this.

Din…

You can’t let him fight.

“Credits- you’ll have all the credits you can imagine, Thall.” You force your voice to steady, neutralize your waver. “You can advertise it as a big comeback of a… a legend that disappeared. Think- think of the gambling, the ticket sales…”

“Ka’r’ika-”

“I’ll race again, you slimy piece of filth.” You leap down from the table- the clomp of Din’s boots stomping just behind you. You pause beneath Thall’s platform. “And then we’ll go free… unharmed.”

…

“I used to make you a lot of money, Thall.”

“You certainly did…” Thall purrs. “And… an event such as this… would be worth much more to me than… a simple fight…”

“We had a deal.”

Din storms forward- the guards shoving him back.

“Din!” you hiss, shaking your head at him.

“This is more desirable to me, I’m afraid, Mandalorian.” Thall grins. “But on one condition-”

“Here we go,” Cara growls, stepping up beside Din.

“If you win, you all go free. But if you lose-”

Thall throws a leg up and over the arm of his chair.

“You’ll stay and race under my banner… for an entire year.”

…

Oh, hell…

“Ka’r’ika-” a hand wraps around your arm- “let me figh-”

“Deal.”

You lift your chin.

“We have a deal.”

“Ah, excellent! Just like old times!” Thall cheers, claps his hands. “She really cut you a good arrangement, Mando. We were just going to throw you in the Sarlacc for your next fight!”

“Thall,” you snarl. “You blob of-”

“-But you spared him!”

A harsh grip spins you around.

“What are you doing?”

Din’s voice is low- measured.

“Saving your ass.”

His hands just… drop to his side.

“Don’t worry so much, Din. Besides-” you force a grin- “If I lose, the hunters will be on me within a week… so there’s absolutely no risk of me having to stay a year!”

…

“Damn it…”

The curse slips beneath his helm.

“Hey-” you reach out- jab his arm- “you’ve not seen me at full capacity yet.”

The Mandalorian shifts… touches your face.

“I’m the damn best-” you lean into his touch- “remember?”

-a puff of air through his vocoder.

…

“Trust in me, Din. For once, trust in me.”

…

The cool of Beskar kisses your brow.

“...I always have.”

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

masterlist / previous chapter / next chapter

taglist: (in the reblog)

a/n: Thank you SO MUCH for your patience.

My dudes, I’ve spent an EMBARRASSING amount of time on this chapter. I wrote and rewrote chapter 9 more than any other previous chapter. I just wanted it to be perfect- and between health and personal issues- I’m very proud that I was able to pull this chapter together in a way that exceeded my expectations!

Your beautiful comments kept me going! And, trust me, I savor every last one! I recognize regulars, and I think about the things you’ve commented while writing. They even inform how I write at times! (To the commenter who said they looove when Din hooks his fingers in his belt, I hope I checked that checkbox for you in chapter 9 lollll.)

Chapter 10 will pick up right where we left off here- but the second half of chapter 10 will be much different than the first half- and that’s all I’m saying…. Actually, I will go ahead and say we will be getting a LOT of angst and straightforward answers to Ka’r’ika’s/Reader’s past in chapter 10…

Also, I thought I would share a link to the FANTASTIC fanart a reader of In Fields of White @styxxus​ drew! It’s AMAZING! (Click here- Note that the images my look a bit squished on desktop. Just ‘right click’ the image and select ‘open in new tab’ to see the full artwork.) If you happen to create anything based off this fic, I’d LOVE to see it! Just head on over to my personal tumblr page! :)

Next, I am shamelessly plugging my new series, Auriga Hills, a Narcos fanfiction. The summary is as follows:

Javier Peña- brash, arrogant, a real jerk.

And now he’s your damn husband.

Allured by the prospect of mischief and money, you consent to marry Javier Peña to assist him in his undercover mission for justice. You’re only in it for the fun, nothing more, nothing less. But traveling together in close quarters on a train bound for the West Coast comes with some unexpected ramifications- you’re actually beginning to like the damn idiot.

(A 1930’s Enemies to Lovers AU)