#vest Luke my beloved

[kindahoping4forever]

Luke @ TMHT Sydney Night 1 & Melbourne

📸: Liz Hemmings

[devildom-moss]

September poll story

(Barbatos x Simeon x gn!MC)

(SFW) (Slightly suggestive) (Fluff) (Poly / triad)

Word Count: +3,400

You were looking forward to this all week. It took a lot of convincing and arranging (for Barbatos and with Diavolo, respectively) for you and Simeon to obtain a full day off with your favorite butler. You wanted to go on a date, and you didn’t want to worry about him needing to rush back home or being preoccupied. Barbatos deserved to relax and enjoy the company of his beloved angel and human. So much care and preparation went into making sure that today could happen, and all three of you were up dark and early. What? It’s still the Devildom.

You and Simeon arrived at the castle to collect your prize. To your surprise, Diavolo greeted you at the door.

“We’re here to kidnap your butler,” you informed him. He gave you an amused laugh and allowed you in.

Barbatos rushed down the stairs seconds later, smoothing down the fabric of his vest. Even though he was still a step above casual attire, it was nice to see him out of his typical uniform. He was visibly flustered when he noticed you and Simeon waiting for him. Bowing his head slightly, Barbatos apologized, “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting. I wanted to be the one to answer the door, but it seems the Young Master has beaten me to it – even though he knows that answering the door is my duty.”

Diavolo chuckled nervously, and Simeon spared him from Barbatos’s ire by taking focus away from the transgression. “We’ll forgive you on the condition that you repay us. One kiss each should do, right MC?”

“Agreed,” you grinned.

Barbatos brought his hand up to his mouth and chuckled. Honestly, an angel and a human flirting with a demon so shamelessly – to practically guilt-trip him, even! How amusing. Barbatos placed a chaste kiss on Simeon’s cheek and then yours. It wasn’t quite what Simeon had in mind, but perhaps a kiss on the lips was too bold of an ask in front of Diavolo. Still, it was adorable, so he saw no need to push Barbatos any further.

“With that, we’ll be off, Young Master,” Barbatos called back as he ushered you and Simeon towards the door. He was eager to start your date. “Call Lucifer if you need anything.”

“I was already planning on inviting him over for a game of chess later, so there’s nothing to worry about. Just enjoy your day off.”

“Thank you, My Lord.”

The three of you headed off on your date. For all the planning that went into assuring you could have your date, none of you had actually made concrete plans. Not knowing exactly where you were going wasn’t so bad when you had Simeon and Barbatos around; as long as they were with you, you could enjoy yourself.

Barbatos was the one to suggest that you walk to the markets downtown and see what was around. As the seasons shifted, the products in the local markets and shops started to change as well. You and Simeon agreed. In truth, Barbatos was on a hunt for seasonal teacups. He wanted something special to serve tea in the next time he invited you and Simeon over.

Simeon, on the other hand, was looking for dessert inspiration. Luke and Barbatos had been doing most of the baking recently, and he was determined to come up with something that would stun everyone – which could be quite difficult when Barbatos was one of the people Simeon wanted to impress. Moreover, he wanted to be the one to feed you and Barbatos next time.

A few hours of window shopping and one tea set with hand painted Devildom flora (which Barbatos expected would start to bloom in his garden within the next few weeks) later, Simeon realized that his preoccupation with dessert ideas – second only to his preoccupation with how adorable his partners were – had started to get to him.

“I’m getting a bit hungry. Do you mind if we grab a snack?” Simeon asked you both as you all exited a small herb and spice shop – a decent haul of goods in Simeon’s hands. Those smells really did him in.

“Of course not, honey,” you smiled and took the herbs and spices from Simeon’s hands and placed them into your bag. “Let’s get something to eat and drink, and then we can rest for a bit.”

“A wonderful idea,” Barbatos added. “Is there anything in particular you’re craving?”

“I’d like something sweet, but I’m not picky about what it is.”

“Something sweet for the sweet angel, got it.” You smirked, watching Simeon’s face for a reaction. He broke into a shy smile, and Barbatos chuckled.

“I believe I saw you eyeing that pop-up shop earlier – the one selling the limited-edition melon bread. I believe Asmo posted about it on his Devilgram earlier this week. It’s quite popular. Would that do?”

“You noticed?” Simeon could feel his face burning. He forgot how observant Barbatos was.

“I’ll get in line for the bread. You and MC can grab the drinks and meet me at the stall when you’re done.”

“What would you like to drink?” you asked Barbatos.

“Surprise me.” The soft, sultry tone to his voice was completely unnecessary. Now, it was your turn to feel flustered. You nodded quickly and took Simeon’s hand, dragging him away without another word.

Out of earshot from Barbatos, Simeon chuckled and added, “You know, I can’t tell if he’s being sexy on purpose or if it’s just his personality.”

“You noticed too?” You laughed. At least you weren’t the only one thinking that way.

With your drinks obtained, including a rose milk tea for Barbatos, you headed to the melon bread stall. Barbatos had just made it to the front of the line – with a dozen people behind him. Successfully scoring three buns, Barbatos turned around to search for you and Simeon. You waved at him with your free hand, and he grinned and rushed over. You all took a seat at a nearby table. Simeon set Barbatos’s drink down in front of him. Each of you grabbed a bun. They were bigger up close – about the size of Simeon’s hands. Simeon bit into the melon bread, revealing a lavender crème inside.

“How is it, honey?” Barbatos asked him.

“Delicious.” Simeon’s joy was written all over his face. You dug in, too.

“Well, sweetheart?” Barbatos turned his eyes to you.

“So good,” you admitted.

Having seen both of his lovers’ content faces, Barbatos took a bite as well. However, when he looked at his melon bread, the filling was completely black. His brows knit in confusion. “Oh? These were all supposed to be the same.”

“Can I try it?” you asked. Barbatos held it out for you. Strange. “It doesn’t taste any different than mine. Here. Try it.”

You offered a bit of your melon bread to Barbatos so he could compare it for himself. This was an odd turn of events. It took a stranger turn when a demon girl with fluffy hair and adorable cat ears walked up to you with an equally precious smile and said, “Congratulations, sir! Would the three of you mind stepping over to my booth for just a minute?”

She pointed to a booth right next to the melon bread stall that looked like a circular cedar wood tub with a counter and a swinging door to the side. When she looked back at all three of your confused faces, she realized that you had no clue why she was there.

“You didn’t know? The black crème is a part of a collab between the pastry shop who runs the melon bread stall and a local bath house that I work with. The water turns completely black during this time of year. So, as a part of the collaboration, we’re offering vouchers for the bath house to customers who purchase their limited-edition bread and find random black crème filling. There was a big sign about the promotion at the stall.”

The three of you looked back at the melon bread stall. Even through the other customers, you could see the sign. Barbatos’s cheeks flushed a light shade of pink. “Oh dear. In my excitement over our date, it appears I was not paying attention.”

Simeon laughed as you all followed the woman to her bath house booth. He turned to Barbatos and teased, “You’re quite adorable when you’re out of sorts.”

“Barbatos is always adorable,” you corrected him before taking a bite out of your melon bread.

The booth attendant chuckled, worsening Barbatos’s embarrassment. He tried so hard to appear perfect and put together, and it seemed that, today, he was having no such luck in that department. Perhaps his fortune had just been redirected.

With her same pleasant smile, the booth worker handed Barbatos a pamphlet for the bath house along with three vouchers. He looked at her curiously and asked, “Aren’t these sorts of prizes usually for singles or couples?”

“Are all three of you not together?” Her eyes widened, surprised that her assumption might be incorrect.

Simeon and Barbatos felt their cheeks warm up. Was it really that obvious during such a short interaction? In sync, they both took a sip of their drinks to avoid answering her question. It was up to you to respond: “We are.”

“Then take them.” She gave you a knowing smile. Lucky Barbatos had struck again.

The day was still young, and who knew how long it would take to schedule another day off for the three of you, so you all decided to head to the bath house today. Barbatos recognized the location on the map that was printed on the back of the pamphlet. It wasn’t far – maybe a twenty-minute walk towards the outskirts of the city. After taking a detour to purchase bathing suits and a fresh set of clothes – which Barbatos justified as a quicker and easier option than stopping back at home and was not at all because he wanted to select and purchase bathing suits for his lovers that had him biting his lip – you started your walk to the location.

Despite being a rather large building, the bath house appeared to be tucked away just on the edge of a forest. Massive trees came up to one side of the building. The fresh smell of damp earth and wood surrounded you – as if you had been transported much farther from the city. Although, you did sense some benign magic along the quiet path that led up to the building. Perhaps an enchantment was in place.

The smell of soap and herbs, carried in the steam, filled your senses when you entered the bath house. The demon at the front desk accepted your vouchers without batting an eye and offered you access to one of their many private group and couples baths. Barbatos had been studying the pamphlet the entire walk there, ensuring that the black water that the booth attendant mentioned wouldn’t hurt you or Simeon. Assured of your safety, Barbatos requested one of the options, but you were too focused on taking in your surroundings to pay attention to his words. Besides, you knew you could trust Barbatos. And how were you supposed to ignore the fact that they had an indoor garden and seating area in their lobby. There was even a pond with water foliage growing in it. The lighting made this place look magical. In all likelihood, there probably was some healing magic in their bath water and products. It would be a logical business practice, right?

“Sweetheart,” Simeon called out to you, “are you coming?”

“Hmm?” You blinked as Simeon took your hand. You really were enchanted by your surroundings. Barbatos was looking back at you both, amused, and carrying a bucket full of supplies. “Sorry, it’s so pretty in here.”

“Come along.” Simeon pulled you close enough to whisper into your ear. “If you weren’t aware, your boyfriends are eager to spoil you.”

Heat rose in your cheeks. Even if he didn’t intend it to sound sexual, Simeon had a bad habit of teasing you in ways that were far from angelic. He would be lying if he said he was unaware of how you might take his words, but he did genuinely wish to dote on you. For both Simeon and Barbatos, there were few greater joys than caring for others, especially their beloved human.

When you arrived at the right room number, Barbatos opened the door and allowed Simeon to guide you in. After getting undressed, both Simeon and Barbatos were quick to offer to help you wash your hair.

“MC, sweetheart, I feel as if Simeon has gotten a bit more time with you today.” A slight pout was present in Barbatos’s tone as he wrapped his arms around you from behind. You could feel his bare chest pressed against your back. His breath tickled your skin as he spoke: “You’ll reward the honor to me, won’t you?”

With very little arguments, you all quickly agreed that Barbatos could wash your hair if you washed Simeon’s hair for him and if Simeon washed Barbatos’s hair.

“I’ll wash your hair first, Simeon,” you offered, trying to squirm out of Barbatos’s grasp, which he had held you in through the discussion, before a noticeable blush formed on your face. You also weren’t sure how long you could handle his naked body pressed against you before this date took a turn. Calming yourself, you instructed Simeon to sit down in front of you.

The shampoo and conditioner provided to you had a subtle lavender scent that hit you as your fingers combed through Simeon’s soft hair. Simeon giggled. “This feels so nice. You have such gentle hands, MC. Ah! But don’t worry, I’ll be just as gentle with you, Barbatos.”

Barbatos stood under the showerhead, wetting his hair and attempting to distract from his nervousness. He had done a lot with Simeon, but he’d never let Simeon wash his hair or body before. The more he thought about it, the weirder Barbatos felt. By the time you had finished up with Simeon, Barbatos hadn’t managed to squash that uneasy feeling.

Simeon’s nimble fingers massaged the shampoo into Barbatos’s scalp, earning a slight whimper from the demon. Simeon paused and looked down at him. Not expecting that noise from him, you also turned and stared at Barbatos. His face was flushed, and you asked, “Are you alright, darling?”

“I –” Barbatos started, lowering his eyes, “. . .I feel weird having an angel wash my hair for me.”

“Oh, Barbatos, darling.” Simeon stifled a smile. That was such an innocent admission, especially given the noise Barbatos had made. “Would you like me to stop?”

“No.” Barbatos was quick to answer. “It feels good. I’m just embarrassed.”

“So honest,” Simeon mused in a way that sounded like praise. “Just be a good boy and let me do this for you. I’ll let you take care of me next time – if it helps. I took sweetheart-over-there’s pampering. Surely you can handle this much.”

You had to chuckle. Barbatos and, to a lesser degree, Simeon didn’t usually show these sides of themselves to anyone else, and you couldn’t help but wonder how someone like Solomon or Asmo would react to seeing how they behaved behind closed doors around you.

When Barbatos was all washed up, the moment he had been waiting for finally arrived. To your surprise, when you sat down for Barbatos, Simeon kneeled down next to you and began massaging your hands.

“You’ve been working so hard, and you’re doing such a good job, sweetheart,” Simeon praised you. His touch was so gentle and healing that you wanted to accuse him of using magic on you.

“Yes,” Barbatos agreed. His skilled hands worked the shampoo into your hair. If you had a headache, you were certain that Barbatos’s touch would have cured it. Between Barbatos and Simeon, you felt spoiled rotten. “We’re so proud of you.”

Barbatos rinsed the shampoo out of your hair. Then, he bent down and kissed the top of your head before he began working the conditioner into your hair. Not to be outdone, Simeon paused his massage to place a kiss on the top of your ring finger.

“This is unfair,” you muttered, feeling flustered by such affectionate gestures.

“Oh, sweetheart –” Barbatos cooed.

“– surely you can handle this.” Simeon repeated the phrase that had caused you to chuckle before. Bastards. They were getting revenge on you for laughing at them before, weren’t they?

Their affectionate teasing included lingering touches as they both proceeded to wash your body afterwards. Completely flustered, it was finally time for you to get into the large stone bath. Barbatos inserted a token into a panel on the wall. Sweet-smelling black water flowed from a large decorative stone spout that looked like a coiled serpent. Barbatos should have run the bath sooner, but his mind wasn’t all there – especially with all the teasing he had endured today.

The water stopped and Barbatos was the first to step into the bath. Someone had to test it. With an approving nod, Simeon got in opposite to Barbatos, giving you the opportunity to sit between the two. As you settled into the bath, you felt someone’s leg nudge yours playfully beneath the semi-opaque water. You shot a glare at Simeon, but his only response was a wink.

Nevertheless, you felt your body relax deeper. You let out a content sigh. “I wish we could do things like this more often.”

“I didn’t realize you liked bathing together so much. There are large baths at the castle. They aren’t as nice as these ones, admittedly, but you’re welcome to use them,” Barbatos informed you.

“No, it’s not just the baths,” you admitted. “I just like being with you both – caring for each other.”

“I understand,” Simeon interjected. “Sometimes, I wish we lived in a big house together. I know it isn’t really possible, but I like to imagine it. The thought of you both in a domestic setting with me . . . it’s peaceful.”

“I suppose we’re all of the same mind, then,” Barbatos added. “I must admit that I savor these moments. Even hard, heavy days feel lighter when I know I can look forward to being alone with you both again. I believe even the Young Master has noticed a change in me.”

“Aww, darling, you can always request my presence whenever you need a little pick-me-up.” Simeon nodded in agreement with your words.

The sweetness suddenly felt unbearable, and Barbatos sank deeper into the water until only his eyes were visible. The tips of his ears had turned pink. Barbatos glanced between you and Simeon, as if to say that he would come to either of you if you ever called upon him – to the best of his abilities, of course.

Simeon chuckled. “Oh darling, have you been in the bath for too long already? You’re turning a bit pink.”

Simeon knew better, though. Perhaps you both had been teasing him a bit much that day – although it was hard not to when Barbatos reacted so cutely. You stretched your hand out and pet Barbatos’s head in an attempt to soothe his embarrassment. However, that wasn’t quite necessary.

Barbatos sank completely underwater, resurfacing in front of Simeon, and gave him a slow, tender kiss before asking, “Do I feel like I’m overheating to you, honey?”

Simeon was too surprised to speak. Barbatos turned to you and gave you an equally passionate kiss. You smiled into it, having been slightly more prepared.

“Well, sweetheart? Am I overheated?”

“Hmm. I really need a comparison.” You smirked and inched towards Simeon before you kissed him. Your hand snaked up his thigh underwater – revenge for nudging you earlier. A soft moan left Simeon’s lips in response. When you pulled away and returned to your spot between Simeon and Barbatos, which seemed closer than before, you shook your head. “No, darling. You aren’t overheated – although both of you are hot.”

Simeon covered his face with his hands and sank down into the water until his chin was barely above the surface. He was grateful a blush was harder to spot with his skin tone. He wasn’t sure how he survived the two of you.

Still, none of you would change a thing if it meant that across infinite timelines, you would all end up here, together.

A/N: I hope you all like it. It kinda jumped around a bit so I hope the pacing is fine. I adore this trio so much, so hopefully y'all will too. My brain is still playing catch-up, so I can't mentally register that it's October now, but it is. I will have the first part of the idea for October up very soon, and then I'll talk about it a bit more. The two polls for October are up now, so vote in them if you want. (the thing I expected has occurred already: more people voting for characters than kinks. Fair, though) That's all. Take care. And to paraphrase Barbatos and Simeon (in this fic) because I think some of you need to hear it: you're doing such a good job, and I'm so proud pf you.

[thewriterowl]

Blooms scenario for when Luke wakes up (probably)

Din: Luke, my beloved, I want to take you on a proper date. Please my soul, allow me to show you the depths in which my heart knows no end for you this Sunday-

Anakin: he's busy.

Din: what?

Anakin hiding the fishing poles and matching father and son vests behind his back with the force: I said he's busy.

Din: Buir, I can see what you're doing. He's going out with me.

Anakin: No. He's going out with ME.

Grogu: [Actually, he is going out with me...peace]

Anakin and Din are so proud and so grumpy that Grogu wins by taking Luke to an imaginary tea-party.

[mybeautifulchristianjourney]

Lord, teach us to pray.

Take a look at Luke 22:41—42

"And he withdrew from them about a stone’s throw, and knelt down and prayed, saying, “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done.”"

Note several things here:

· Jesus withdrew from the group to enjoy that sweet private fellowship and communion with out Father

· Jesus bowed down in reverence, in a posture of submission

· Jesus made His petition clearly known

· Jesus ultimately submitted to His Father's will, desiring His will above all.

Brothers and sisters, God isn't a cosmic butler or order taker. We don't demand things from Him and we don't decree things, for we were never vested with that power.

And when we pray, we're not ripping blessings from the hands of a God who is unwilling or reluctant to bless us.

When we pray, we are coming before the Sovereign King over all the universe and saying, "Lord, do what seems best to you, do that which will bring you the most glory and conform me to the image of your beloved Son."

And once that is done, we look forward to His providence, trusting His unsearchable wisdom and fatherly care for us.

He will never give us a rock when we ask for bread. He will give wisdom and insight to all who ask for it. And, He directs all things for our good and His glory.

Trust in this God!

[team-mythic-beasts]

Team Mythic Beasts: Let’s Talk Designs!

Also Included: (Updated) Birthdays, Ages, MBTI, Heights

(Note: Special thanks to @levijonescc, creator of the Aveyond 4 x Hetalia mod, for inspiring this project; without you we may not be here today. Btw I suck at drawing humanoid characters so I used this base)

It took me almost seven years to finalize the boys’ designs, but here they are!

Besides the pictures, I’ve also invited them here to explain the thought process behind their outfits. They will go in order of color, so this time we’re starting off with… Jones!

❤️ The Wolf- Jones Fitzgerald

(Apr 25 ♉️ | 29 y/o | INTJ | 177cm / 5’9”)

It’s only fair that the best-looking guy in the bunch gets the first word… so why does Luke keep getting all the spotlight? I’m supposed to be the main character!

Anyways, hope you aren’t too scared from all the spikes and flame patterns that I wear. Intimidation is a huge factor in designing a villain outfit, and I take great pride in being called scary. The flames are for another reason too— I’m a fire mage, and those who cross me shall beware the heat.

The cape was a reward from a quest I took up long ago. I saved a village from a demonic wolf, and they gave me some of her fur to wear as a trophy. In a way, it’s a reminder not to let my beloved Hiro go down the same path as his mother… but I do look quite big with the cape, don’t you think?

Even without my armor, cape, and giant coat, I still look like I’m onto some villain-y business, with the vest and jewel… Wait, what do you mean “yeehaw,” Makoto?! I’m not a cowboy!

🧡 The Dragon- Ludovic Brant

(He forgot 😢 | 70+ y/o (physically 25) | ISTJ | 200cm / 6’6”)

… Hello there. I did not expect such a quick debut.

As you can likely tell from my hardened look, my story is about battling demons. I was promised greater progress by the others in Team Mythic Beasts, and they have been of great help in my quest.

I made my armor from various monsters that I have slain in battle, but the helmet, specifically, is from an a assassin sent by my former captor. It put up a tough fight, that’s for sure, but nothing beats the fury of a dragon.

Underneath my armor is a simple outfit I put together in Moriad, where I have lived as a refugee for quite a few decades now. I asked my dwarf neighbors if they could make me custom wear, but it was too much for them. Therefore, every piece is made by hand, by myself.

… Yes. That is all.

💛 The Lion- Mikkel Anderson

(Dec 5 ♐️ | 19 y/o | ISFJ | 183cm / 6’0”)

Evil beware, the Lion of Team Mythic Beasts is here!

When I was a young lad, I’d be carrying heavy stuff everywhere to build up strength for all this armor that I wear now. That means I have to eat a lot of food every day, too! But underneath all this steel, I’m just a humble little guy from the city outskirts.

Oh, this medal? I got it from Lord Kristan! He’s the legendary founder of my hometown, Alphica, and he’s been watching over me and my nan since I was born.

So… that should cover everything about my outfit. You can probably tell I’m not as flashy as my friends; they’ll have a lot more to talk about than I do, I’m sure!

💚 The Weasel- Arthur Blackwood

(Oct 23 ♏️ | 36 y/o | ESTJ | 175cm / 5’8”)

Ha ha ha ha ha!!! If trouble is what you’d expect at the sight of a witch like me, then you’d be right— but you’ve got to be a total numbskull to get on my bad side. My long, sharp nails aren’t the only things you should worry about.

Not a fan of heavy clothes, since potions is my specialty; a simple coat, protective armwear, and a ragged cape does the job for me. As for the bird skull on my shoulder, one of the Raven Lord’s “beloved children” decided it was a good idea to get in the way of my curses— (MAKOTO’S NOTE: THIS DID NOT HAPPEN.)

Purple and cyan? Meh. Black, green, and silver? Classic. No idea what the witchcraft school I went to was thinking when they designed our uniforms, but I’ve done a better job than they ever will. It’s a shame my brothers don’t think the same.

That’s all you need to hear from me. Now get lost before I turn you into a frog!

🩵 The Eagle- Finn Dentrad (né Teryekol)

(Aug 28 ♍️ | 24 y/o | INTP | 162cm / 5’3”)

Looks like my days as an adventurer are not over yet!

My outfit used to be a lot lighter. Shorts, summer jacket, loafers… they’re comfy, no doubt, but I needed something to reflect the things I’m actually good at— engineering and mechanics. So I decided to switch them out for some heavy duty wear.

Now, I’m fully covered up from the neck down, because building stuff, especially gadgets, isn’t really a safe activity. My coat is long enough for protection, but not too long as to get caught in the middle of moving gears. Yikes! Just thinking about that frightens me.

My eyes are just as important for my talent, so I’ve switched out my hat for a pair of goggles. Combine that with my new coat and waist pockets… don’t I look a lot more reliable now?

Oh, one more thing… I’ve had so many people tell me how heavy my backpack is. Is it really? The only stuff in there are bigger mechanical parts and my robot dog Hanatamago, that’s all…

💙 The Bear- Fra’ser Du’randt

(Jun 26 ♋️ | 39 y/o | ENFJ | 175cm / 5’8”)

*yawns* … Oh, hey there. Sorry, I was busy… looking into other people’s dreams.

How is that possible? Well, not long after I came to this world, the Lord of Dreams made me his assistant. He gave me the power to access the dreams of other individuals at any given time, whether I’m awake or in the process of dreaming. Dispelling nightmares is my job, as well as my specialty.

My Lord designed and created my entire outfit. Blue and purple are the colors of dreams in this world, so it’s only natural that he would choose such hues. The sleeves of my coat are styled just like his, and my base wear resembles the uniform I had at my last job. I do miss my friends back there, but I’m happy to be able to serve my Lord. He is truly a kind deity.

Of course, fighting night terrors is a dangerous job, so the cape and armbands serve as protection. My downwards moon earring also acts as a talisman. All in all, it warms my heart that my Lord had considered so much when he made me this costume.

💜 The Fox- Lucas Reynard

(May 6 ♉️ | 110 y/o (physically 20) | INFP | 178cm / 5’10”)

Oh wow, I’m finally last for once. You probably know me well enough by now, as I’m all over this blog as well as Makoto’s Instagram page, if that’s how you found us here.

Every single item you see on me is a gift. Most are from my sisters, but gods have asked of my favor as well. I have no idea what they saw in me, but… alright. Pretty cool, I guess. If you want to know from whom is which, do let me know. By the way, if you look very closely at my choker, it has my initials on it.

Somehow, training with my family had helped me grow a pair of wings, fox ears, and a tail. No, this doesn’t make my hearing any better, nor can I fly... These parts are made of mist, and depending on my mood or energy level, can sometimes appear translucent or not show up at all.

The face markings... I got them while learning how to shapeshift under the God of Colors. He told me that every shapeshifter, whether born with the talent or learned it later in life, has a unique mark, or a combination of them. It’s not evident in my main form, but when I turn into a fox, the canine facial structure reveals the full shape of my marks— four diamonds.

Oh, sorry, I spoke too much… Well, if you want to know more about our outfits, feel free to ask. For now, have this— our very own mascot collection, Team MiniB. It was my idea, by the way.

[brokenmusicboxwolfe]

Tonight I watched Star Wars….

Oh, yeah, look. I know the young folks call it “A New Hope” or “Episode IV”, but when I was growing up the first movie was “Star Wars”. If Lucas still expects me to accept his tinkering after I had LITERALLY seen the movies more than 100 times, then I’m never gonna use his rebranding.

Yes, really. 100 times.

I worked my ass off cutting brush growing up to earn enough money to buy the movies on VHS. This is back in the days they were rental priced. I think I paid $75 per movie and then went and bought the Han vest and Luke jacket the fan club was also selling.** When I got those three tapes I would sit there a day watching the movies like an endless loop, starting over as soon Jedi was over. And I actually kept count on a chalk board!

It’s soooo damn embarrassing now! I can’t get my head around it. i can’t even stand to watch two episodes of a tv show back to back now. But back then I was in love, a total fangirl..

Plus, yah know, no streaming, no internet even, no cable, a handful of VHS tapes because they cost so much still, and the nearest video rental places a couple shelves in Roses 10 miles away! If you wanted to watch something at home there weren’t many choices! LOL

But I did love it, a deep unconditional love. The visceral thrill I felt as a six year old sitting by my father rippled through my life for decades. I’d watch the movie and feel it again every single time. It was a delight that was filled with the warmth of something connecting with you in a way that if feels it was always there. It was like a part of identity manifest in a movie***. Empire was my favorite, but Star Wars would always have a special place in my heart.

Or so I thought.

**sigh**

I wish I could feel what I always used to feel. I felt nothing tonight. No warmth. No delight. Just a hollowness.

And then I went into a full MST3K monologue, mocking my once beloved movie. I wish someone had been here to laugh. I miss laughter. Saying something and someone else snickering or smiling or even totally losing it in gales of laughter…now that’s one of the most wonderful things in the world.

But I couldn’t even feel the humor. Just nothing.

I’m not sure it’s the fault of Star Wars. I’m not feeling anything much from things I have always loved. Nothing brings delight. Not anything I watch or read or listen to or eat or wear or do or…. I can’t blame any of it on what I loved failing me. They are unchanged (well, relatively…damn you Lucas) but something about me has.

I’ve had all my hope worn away. It’s too hard to be happy anymore. Surviving is all I feel like I do, but I’m doing it by habit and my core obstinance rather than caring.

You can’t really love if you can’t even care. I know I love these things, but it’s like knowing you are supposed to love someone while suffering from amnesia.

Funny though that I can still feel grief over all this. I mourn loving things. It scares me, this nothingness where I always felt so much.

** I wore that vest to school every single day for at least a year! It’s so beyond ridiculous!

I mean, I always seemed to have a “thing” I wore like a life line, connecting me to the “real” me. School was traumatic, and I was losing myself to to it. I’d gone from extravert to introvert, and told myself I was just acting to survive. But I felt it happening, the crippling insecurity, the fear of people, seeping into my bones. So I’d wear something. For it a few years it was my ankh (lost), then my amethyst amulet (lost), then my denim jacket with a daily rotation of buttons/ pins/badges/brooches, and finally my leather jacket (my beloved). But that year did I have to latch onto this utterly geeky bit of clothing???

Of course, no one ever seemed to guess it was from Star Wars. You see, the movies were super popular, but geeks were NOT. To admit you knew what it was was to admit you were a geek too. I was the school’s (a K-12 school at that!) only open geek. I even wrote my senior year term paper on comics….’cause fuck it, I’ll never be popular but I can at least be me!

Gah, I remember Coach G—— (how victorian of me!) , the health/PE/science teacher, used to stand behind me pulling at the loops on the back of the vest. He’d be talking away and suddenly I’d feel the yank, yank, yank he pulled me back and forth. Drove me nuts, but hey, at least he never groped me like I heard some girls had to deal with.

(WTF was with our school always having the coaches teach science when most of them had no interest or knowledge of the subject?? Tells you the value they put in science here, and why my father did a TON of volunteer work in those classes!

***TBH, I had this feeling that all the movies, books, comics, and tv shows I loved created a I kind of mosaic of me. To know what I loved was find out all the puzzle pieces you needed to see who I was. I desperately wanted to be understood. The things I liked would let me be found by someone.

Actually, wearing my geekiness out in the open was like advertising! I was hoping against hope someone would one day see a book I was reading or a t-shirt I was wearing and say “Hey! I like that too!!”

Which is a bit absurd. No two people see things the same way. The thing I liked my be perceived completely differently by someone else. WHY I like what I like is the actual key, and I’m the only one really that knows that.

Plus, hick town, teeny population, still in the anti-geek era…..yeah, I wasn’t exactly gonna get lucky. My parents did when they met, but to think I would too is like expecting to win the lottery because your parents did!

[frmartinshomiliesandreflections]

18th November >> Fr. Martin’s Gospel Reflections / Homilies on Luke 19:45-48 for Friday, Thirty Third Week in Ordinary Time: ‘The people as a whole hung on his words’.

Friday, Thirty Third Week in Ordinary Time

Gospel (Except USA)

Luke 19:45-48

You have turned God's house into a robbers' den.

Jesus went into the Temple and began driving out those who were selling. ‘According to scripture,’ he said ‘my house will be a house of prayer. But you have turned it into a robbers’ den.’

   He taught in the Temple every day. The chief priests and the scribes, with the support of the leading citizens, tried to do away with him, but they did not see how they could carry this out because the people as a whole hung on his words.

Gospel (USA)

Luke 19:45-48

You have made it a den of thieves.

Jesus entered the temple area and proceeded to drive out those who were selling things, saying to them, “It is written, My house shall be a house of prayer, but you have made it a den of thieves.” And every day he was teaching in the temple area. The chief priests, the scribes, and the leaders of the people, meanwhile, were seeking to put him to death, but they could find no way to accomplish their purpose because all the people were hanging on his words.

Reflections (10)

(i) Friday, Thirty Third Week in Ordinary Time

In today’s gospel reading, Jesus speaks of the Temple in Jerusalem as a ‘house of prayer’. We think of a house as a place where a family gathers. The Temple was the place where the family of God’s people gathered for prayer, whether it was the prayer of petition, of thanksgiving or of intercession. Every parish church could be described as a house of prayer. It is a place where the family of God’s people gather to pray. In our prayer, as Christians, we recognize the God to whom the Jewish people prayed in the Temple as the Father of Jesus and we recognize Jesus as God’s beloved Son. We pray to God our Father, through Jesus, in the power of the Holy Spirit, whom we recognize as the Spirit of both God the Father and God the Son. When we gather in this house of prayer, we do so as family, as the family of faith, recognizing ourselves and one another as sons and daughters of God, brothers and sisters of Jesus and temples of the Holy Spirit. Even when we come into the church on our own, we are always conscious of the other members of our family of faith and of the human family, and, indeed, the family of all God’s creatures, all God’s creation. In the house of prayer, which is our parish church, as in every house of prayer, we open ourselves up to God present to us through his Son and the Holy Spirit. As a result, we are strengthened in our identity as sons and daughters of God, brothers and sisters of Jesus and temples of the Holy Spirit. We leave this house of prayer empowered to live out of that identity more generously and courageously.

And/Or

(ii) Friday, Thirty Third Week in Ordinary Time

In the gospel reading we have just heard, Jesus firstly drives all trade out of the Temple area and then he proceeds to teach there every day. According to our reading, the presence of Jesus in the Temple met with a divided response. The religious leaders, the chief priests and the leading citizens who were responsible for the running of the temple wanted to do away with Jesus. In contrast, the people as a whole hung on Jesus’ words. A few chapters further on in his gospel Luke describes the crucifixion of Jesus and once again he makes the same distinction between the religious leaders and the people. He tells us that as Jesus hung from the cross the leaders scoffed at him, whereas the people simple stood by watching and after Jesus died they returned home, beating their breasts as a sign of sorrow and repentance. Luke makes it clear that the religious leaders were much more hostile to Jesus than the people as a whole because Jesus was perceived by them as threatening their vested interests. They had something to defend against Jesus whereas the people as a whole knew they had much to receive from Jesus. They somehow recognized that God was visiting them in a special way through Jesus. They had nothing to lose and everything to receive from Jesus. This morning we are invited to stand with the people in hanging on the words of Jesus, and, like them, we too beat our breasts as we look upon the cross of Jesus, recognizing that we have not always lived by his word or walked in his way.

 And/Or

(iii) Friday, Thirty Third Week in Ordinary Time

In the gospel reading this morning, Jesus drives all trade out of the temple, so as to purify it for the worship of God alone. The temple was to be a place of worship and prayer but it had become something else. The buying and selling of the market place had intruded into the temple and had undermined the temple’s primary purpose as a house of prayer. The temple no longer exists but there are still houses of prayer. Our church buildings are houses of prayer. We all feel that we have a very special house of prayer in our own parish church. It is a place of worship, a space into which people can enter to pray and to worship God. Everything in the church is to serve that purpose, the art work, the lighting, the decor, the furniture. I have always felt coming into this church that it is a place where people have been praying for a very long time, as indeed they have. The bulk of the church goes back to the late 1830s. People’s prayer over the generations leaves its mark on a building and makes it easier for us to pray. Our prayerful presence here, in turn, leaves its mark on the building and makes it easier of others to enter into prayer, including those of the generations to come.

 And/Or

(iv) Friday, Thirty Third Week in Ordinary Time

In this morning’s gospel reading Jesus shows his displeasure at what is happening in the Temple in Jerusalem. Instead of serving its original purpose as a house of prayer for everyone, it had come to serve the interests of a few. Every human institution needs ongoing reform and renewal, and that includes religious institutions, like the church. The Lord is always prompting us to reform and renew our institutions so that they serve God’s purposes more fully, rather than our own purposes. No human institution, no matter how revered, is perfect; it will always be in need of renewal, because it will always be shaped by people who are tainted by sin. What is important is to acknowledge this in an ongoing way and to be open to the Lord’s call to repentance and renewal. This was not the case with those responsible for the Jewish temple in Jerusalem. After Jesus’ actions in the temple, the gospel reading says that the chief priests and the scribes tried to do away with Jesus. To resist ongoing renewal is to resist the Lord. Our journey towards God, both as individuals and as communities, will always involve repentance, a willing to keep on turning more fully towards what God wants for our lives.

 And/Or

(v) Friday, Thirty Third Week in Ordinary Time

In today’s gospel reading Jesus refers to the Temple in Jerusalem as a ‘house of prayer’. The primary activity of the Temple was to be the activity of prayer. However, other activities had taken over and become more important than they should have been, such as the selling of animals for sacrifice, the exchange of coins, all of which could have been done outside the temple precinct. Jesus’ identification of the Temple as a ‘house of prayer’ is appropriate for every Christian church building. The primary activity of this parish church, and of buildings like it, is the activity of prayer. Every other activity is secondary and should, in some way, be at the service of the primary activity of prayer. Everything in the building should be at the service of people’s prayer such as the lighting, the furniture, the art work, whether it be in the form of statues, paintings, mosaics or stained glass. Our purpose in coming into a church is to pray, and to pray in the whole variety of forms of prayer that have evolved over the centuries within the Jewish and the Christian tradition, the prayer of petition, of contrition, of praise and thanksgiving, of intercession, the quiet prayer of attentive listening. All those forms of prayer have their place within the great prayer of the Eucharist. If this parish church is a ‘house of prayer’, then its primary purpose is to help us to become a people of prayer, in the way that Jesus was a man of prayer. In becoming people of prayer we open ourselves more fully to God’s purpose for our lives and for our world.

 And/Or

(vi) Friday, Thirty Third Week in Ordinary Time

In today’s gospel reading, Jesus, quoting one of the prophets, speaks of the Temple in Jerusalem as a ‘house of prayer’. Prayer was to be the primary activity of the Temple. However, in Jesus’ day certain economic activities had become so important that they had gotten in the way of the Temple being a house of prayer for everyone, including non-Jews. Jesus is suggesting that the Temple had lost its way; it was no longer serving God’s purpose but was at the service of various human purposes. We can all lose our way. We can all end up serving our own purpose rather than God’s purpose. This can happen not only with individuals but with institutions, even institutions as sacred as the Temple in Jerusalem. Every so often we need to hear a prophetic voice calling us back to God’s way. For us as Christians, the most authoritative prophetic voice is the voice of Jesus which we hear above all in the gospels. We need to keep returning to his voice, to his living word, as it comes to us through the Scriptures, so that we can live our lives in keeping with God’s purpose. Every parish church, like the Temple in Jerusalem, is a house of prayer. It is above all in that setting that we can prayerfully listen to the word of the Lord addressed to each of us individually and to all of us as members of God’s people, the church.

And/Or

 (vii) Friday, Thirty Third Week in Ordinary Time

According to our first reading, it was on the 25th day of the Jewish month of Chislev that Judas Maccabeus and his associates purified the Temple in Jerusalem which had become contaminated by pagan images and practices. This happened a little over 150 years before the birth of Jesus. The 25th of Chislev remains an important feast day for Jews today. It is usually celebrated in November/December, the Feast of the Rededication of the Temple. In the gospel reading Jesus is also portrayed as purifying the Temple in Jerusalem. On this occasion it wasn’t pagans, non-Jews, who were responsible for the unsatisfactory state of the Temple, but other Jews, in particular, the priests who were responsible for the Temple. They had allowed people to sell goods in one of the courts of the Temple, the court reserved for non-Jews. As a result, non-Jews could not pray in the area reserved for them. The Temple was meant to be a house of prayer for Jews and non-Jews. Jesus saw that the Temple was not conducting its business in accordance with God’s purpose. It had become, according to Jesus, a ‘robber’s den’ rather than a ‘house of prayer’. According to Luke, Jesus had referred to the Temple, when a twelve-year-old, as ‘my Father’s house’. Jesus, the Son of God, acted authoritatively to purify and renew his Father’s house.  Every institution stands in need of continuing renewal, including religious institutions, of which the most sacred in Jesus’ day was the Temple in Jerusalem. The church, likewise, is always in need of reform. We who comprise the church are always in need of the Lord’s reforming and renewing zeal. It is a seal that is born of love, because the Lord wants us to become all that God desires for us. Each day we try to open ourselves anew to the Lord’s continuing work of renewal in our lives.

 And/Or

(viii) Friday, Thirty Third Week in Ordinary Time

The prophet Malachi in the Jewish Scriptures had written, ‘the Lord whom you seek will suddenly enter his Temple’. The scene in today’s gospel reading where Jesus enters the Temple is the fulfilment of that prophecy. Earlier in Luke’s gospel, the twelve year old Jesus had spoken of the Temple as ‘my Father’s house’. At the beginning of today’s gospel reading, Jesus quotes God’s word as found in Isaiah, ‘my house will be a house of prayer’. The Temple, God’s house, was to be a place of prayer. Jesus, God’s Son, acts authoritatively in God his Father’s house, because far from being a house of prayer it had become a ‘robbers’ den’. Buying and selling, the making of money, had become a higher priority than prayer. Those responsible for the activities of the Temple saw it as a resource that could serve their own purposes, rather than a place that was to serve God’s purpose. It has been said that Jesus comforts the afflicted and afflicts the comfortable. Those whose management of the Temple had left them comfortable were now experiencing the disturbing side of Jesus’ words and actions and, in response, Luke says that ‘they tried to do away with him’. Yet, the people as a whole, Luke tells us, ‘hung on his words’. We are invited to stand with the ordinary people in hanging on the Lord’s words. The Lord’s words bring light and life, love and mercy, into our lives, healing our wounds and restoring our spirit. Yet, there are times when we will also experience his words as disturbing our comfort zones. At such times too, we need to hang on his words, because, even then, the Lord’s words remain words of spirit and life for us.

 And/Or

(ix) Friday, Thirty Third Week in Ordinary Time

Religious buildings can be very significant for people. Parishioners have a great love for our parish church. A lot of work is being done at the moment to conserve and restore the fabric. The most important religious building for the Jews in the time of Jesus, and before his time, was the Temple in Jerusalem. It had been profaned by the pagan rulers of Judea about 150 years before the coming of Christ. Today’s first reading is the story of the Temple’s joyful rededication after the people of Israel regained control of it from the pagans. In the gospel reading, Jesus recognizes the value of the Temple, declaring it to be a house of prayer. Perhaps that is a good description of our own parish church, a ‘house of prayer’. However, Jesus could see that the focus of the Temple was no longer prayer but various commercial activities, and, so, he drove out from the Temple all who were selling. There is a little warning there to us also. We must be careful that prayer remains the focus of our own church building and not some commercial activity, no matter how well intentioned. This building is about the work of prayer, the prayer of the liturgy, the Eucharist and other sacraments, the prayer of the church, the praying of the rosary, the private prayers of people who come into the church, often expressed through the lighting of candles. When we are entering this church, we are entering a house of prayer and the focal point of that house is the presence of the Lord in the Eucharist calling us to prayer. In this place, we open ourselves to the Lord in prayer so as to be better able to bring the Lord to those we meet when we leave this house of prayer.

 And/Or

(x) Friday, Thirty Third Week in Ordinary Time

In today’s gospel reading, Jesus refers to the Temple of Jerusalem as a ‘house of prayer’. He clearly felt that some of the other activities that were going on there were working against it being the house or place of prayer that God intended the Temple to be. Every parish church is a house of prayer. We gather in our own parish church, during normal times, to pray together as a community. People also come into the church during the day for their own personal prayer. I have been struck by the numbers of people who have been coming to our church to pray during the day in recent weeks and months. There is no other building that could be described as a house of prayer, a place whose primary role it is to support people in prayer. We need such spaces in our busy world with all its many activities. It is said in today’s gospel reading that ‘the people hung on the words of Jesus’ as he taught in the Temple. Our parish church is also a place where we hear the word of the Lord, whether listening with others as that word is proclaimed in the setting of the Eucharist and other liturgical settings, or whether we reflect on the Lord’s word to us quietly and alone. I sometimes see people with the Missalette for the following Sunday praying quietly on the word of God. We come into a house of prayer like this to pray and to hang on the Lord’s word, so that we can go out to witness to the Lord’s love and presence with greater energy and courage. That pattern of coming in and going out is at the heart of our lives as the Lord’s disciples, coming in to pray and going out to live what we have prayed. This parish church, this house of prayer, is at the service of this important pattern in our lives.

Fr. Martin Hogan.

[dylanobrienisbatman]

[dear-mrs-otome]

Dear Mrs. Ricc — Otome, I mean ~ Your description of sexy team story Silvio’s bit made me unable to breathe 😳 How can this asshole (lovingly) get anymore attractive????? If you could, would you please share more detailed summary? *Collecting all Silvio crumbs as a non-jp speaker 😭*

Sure, Nonny! Here's the whole story, irreverently rendered and nominally accurate.

------

After the ruckus about Day of the Beloved, Emma’s outside in the gardens where it suddenly begins POURING rain - sunny blue sky obliterated in an instant. She’s chatting with Luke, whom she ran into along the way, and he’s commiserating about the crappy weather before he suggests they try and find shelter somewhere nearby rather than try and make it all the way back to the castle in this deluge. 

He takes his coat off and puts it over Emma to at least shield her a little from the rain, and he steers them towards the gazebo nearest to eke out some meager shelter - cheerfully brushing off her protests that he’ll get wet without his coat. She thanks him for the gesture, and thinks how considerate of him it is.

When they hustle to the gazebo though, they find some people already inside - Nokto and Silvio, who also ducked in to take shelter from the rain. Nokto’s got his jacket off, wringing water from it, and Silvio’s bitching about Nokto getting them caught out here even as Nokto’s sniping back that it was Silvio who was moaning about hating being inside the castle.

They’re both soaked to the bone as Emma points out (putting on her best ‘noble lady’ impression to keep up her story in front of Silvio) and Nokto’s just grinning that she and Luke are just as bad off as they are, especially Luke. Silvio seem impressed that Luke’s not just a tall guy, he works out a lot too.

Emma’s gotta admit to herself as she looks that Luke’s plastered wet clothing leaves little to the imagination, and it’s clearly true.

Luke turns it back around on Silvio with a grin though, and says him too - he might appear svelte but he’s got a lot of muscle. Silvio scoffs like, obvs…what’s a guy who sails on the regular gonna do with a scrawny body?? Emma can definitely see from his wet shirt that he’s got some niiiice proportions too.

Silvio then smirks that Nokto’s not exactly rippling with muscle, but Nokto’s nonplussed - he agrees he’s no beefcake but he DOES train still. Emma’s professional ‘wet shirt assessment’? Thin, but taut.

Then she mentally slaps herself like NO BAD BRAIN what are we thinking about right now?! It’s a bit overwhelming, manflesh on display plus the scent of the rain and cedar and everything else - they’re all three pretty damn sexy and she’s having a hard time looking (or not looking) at them, frankly.

They’re interrupted by someone’s voice, all pitched falsetto like a bad impression of her own. “Nokto and Luke and Silvio are all dressed so shamelessly, it’s hard to take my eyes off of them!” With a bad feeling, she turns to see Jin and Clavis coming into the gazebo too, all grins.

She’s sputtering that that’s NOT what she was thinking, but Clavis just laughs and tells her not to be shy, she’s got the creme de la creme of sexy princes all gathered in one spot here. Jin’s doing fake-Emma voice as he says, “Jin and Clavis are also soooo sexy!”

She’s begging Jin to please cut it out with the fake high voice, but he says he’s just speaking for her heart - and now CLAVIS goes on again all ‘Staaahhhp it’s so embarrassing to say that aloud - but also Jin aren’t you gonna take your clothes off??’ (please i can’t with these two I was laughing so hard here)

Jin of course just says, it can’t be helped if she wants he’ll just have to show off his male pride here too, and Emma’s thinking KDLFJSKDL WHAT IS WITH THESE PEOPLE as Jin seizes the slightest encouragement from Clavis’ fake-Emma urging to whip off his wet vest - gotta undo a button or two too, for good measure, to Emma’s dismay.

She’s having a REAL hard time finding somewhere safe to look right now - even looking at Clavis isn’t innocent, given the beguiling vision he makes with his wet clothes and his hair dripping with rain. Jin’s got that hard body, well-trained like Luke, but Clavis’ clothes are so well-tailored they make the most of every line of his body, even when NOT wet. Slender but taut, much like Nokto. (Clearly no flabby slackers in the bunch here lollll)

She’s gotta mentally slap herself a second time now too, that her mind’s been wandering in Gutterville, but Clavis immediately picks up on her bright red face and teases her about being overwhelmed by his abundant hawtness - which she quickly tells him he’s just imagining.

Jin wonders if it’s HIS forbidden charms then that have her all aflutter, and Nokto’s giving her a hard time about being a dirty girl seeing them all wet and getting hot and bothered by it. Poor Emma’s just flailing that that’s NOT IT!

It’s Luke that steps in and tells them to lay off pestering her, and she’s thinking gratefully how Luke’s the only one here on her side as she scoots closer to him - away from the dangerous other princes. Secure in the knowledge that he’d protect her no matter what. 

Silvio scoffs that they’re all really stupid - and she’s surprised to think that Silvio of all people might be an ally.

Only for him to ruin that idea a half second later when he declares confidently that not a one of them can hold a candle to HIS sexiness.

Yeah, no, she thinks. He's totally on the same side as Jin and Clavis.

He proudly proclaims that he's the reason her face is all red, and Clavis is like ohhh? A challenger appears eh? You seem pretty sure you can beat me, Silvio.

Silvio says definitely, no way he's gonna lose to Clavis' lack of appeal. Jin counters that everybody knows the princes of Rhodolite are famous for being hotties, nobody can argue that.

Nokto' just sorta rolling his eyes over all this posturing - he's clearly the sexiest. Clavis says if he's gonna claim that, does that mean he's gonna take part in this little competition?

Nokto declines, and he's trying to make a break for it but Clavis stops him with a hand on his shoulder - and Jin does the same to Luke, saying of COURSE Luke is going to do his country proud right??

Luke relents a little, if Jin says so, and Emma's thinking noooooo they got to Luke too 😭 Clavis declares that they'll award the title of Sexy Prince to whichever of them can make Emma blush the most…much to her chagrin.

She's steeling herself to not let even a hint of anything show on her face, as Clavis lays out the rules - no getting handsy, that's not gentlemanly at all, but anything else is fair game to try and charm Emma.

No THANK YOU, she tries to say, but she's totally overridden by Silvio stepping up to go first since he's got nothing better to entertain himself with. Emma, for her part, can't believe they're going through with this idiotic game.

Silvio suddenly starts in with a, hey woman. Look at me.

She was trying to avoid doing so but he reaches out and takes her chin, turning her gaze to meet his. Maybe because of the rain making his hair wet, his already handsome face looks even more alluring despite the haughty cast of it. She can practically hear him saying 'I'm the sexiest' all confidently.

But she's too annoyed at the thought of just admitting that aloud all honestly, so she turns her gaze away defiantly…a mistake though because now she's stuck peeping down at his body in the wet shirt. He really does have amazing muscles, now that she's up close enough to see well, and she's trying to wrap her head around how even a prince needs a body like that to go out to sea.

Looking to get back at him a little for his bullying, she reaches out and pokes one of those drenched pecs - only for Silvio to yeet himself away from her, red as a tomato as he's spluttering for her to knock that off.

Nokto's laughing his ass off that it's Silvio who turned red, not Emma. Clavis thinks this is hilarious too, pointing out that Emma has the upper hand here.

She kind of sheepishly apologizes to Silvio, surprised by how surprised HE seemed. But Silvio, still blushing, is cursing and says he's gonna call her a shameless hussy from now on.

You touched me first! she counters indignantly, but he doesn't wanna hear it - insists that it's okay for him to do so but not her.

She's fuming over what a tyrant he is when Jin cuts off their bickering before it can devolve into another of their never-ending quarrel, proclaiming it his turn to show off the eldest's charms. 

She takes a step back as she gets a wall o' tiddies in her face, and on a grin Jin says she's free to touch his irresistible body allll she wants. He'll even take his shirt off -

Emma cuts him off hastily, assuring him it's fine just the way it is! 

His heaving bosom of generous mantiddies is eyecatching, exuding a different sort of sexy from Silvio's. His poor soaked shirt fighting a losing battle to keep them contained. It's almost a bit too much though, and aloud she points out to Jin that he's gonna pop some buttons with just the slightest flex.

Luke and Clavis kinda snorting at that, and Nokto point out to wouldn't be the first time he's done something like that. Unrepentant Jin says ya, he just has some buxom maid fix it for him then - shirts don't stand a chance against his overwhelming level of sexy.

Silvio points that's just sheer beef, don't mistake it for attractiveness - and look at Emma's face, she doesn't exactly seem like she's into it.

Clavis laughs that they've got a tough audience here, but he's ready to avenge his elder brother's death. He moves Jin aside and steps up - closer than anyone else so far, despite his demeanor being the most gentlemanly. He rakes his wet hair back, giving her the smolder, and she can't deny she's affected at least a teensy bit. Clavis always has the bedroom eyes, so up close like this they're even more overpowered.

Maybe because she knows it’s all hollow though it’s got no real pull on her, and as Clavis prompts her for her opinion on his superior appeal, asking whether she’s intoxicated by him…she gives him a pretty noncommittal answer. And it’s crickets as the silence stretches on (Emma clearly feeling nada) until Clavis is just….Well? Nothing?

She asks what else there is to say or do (you can practically hear the deflating ego from here LMAO poor Clavis, we just witnessed a murder) and frankly, he’s too close so please step back.

Nokto bursts out laughing as he pushes the dumbfounded Clavis out of the way, and he grins that Emma’s a tougher nut to crack than he’d thought. Luke theorizes that she’s just too used to Clavis’ MO, as Jin tries to cheer him up and tells Clavis that HE’S proud of Clavis’ sexiness.

Silvio points out that Jin’s not actually comforting him at all…and Emma does feel a little bad for Clavis, who seems to still be frozen in disbelief.

If both brothers 1 and 2 have crashed and burned, Nokto says, then it’s up to him and Luke to defend Rhodolite’s honor. Luke says he doesn’t think he’s got any sex appeal, he’s been sitting this out from the very start…but Nokto proclaims he doesn’t have any doubts about HIS because it all comes down to pleasing a lady properly AKA in bed.

He’s throwing Emma a come hither glance, making a sexy show out of wiping away the raindrop sliding down his cheek. She’s gotta admit to herself that just like the others, Nokto has his own brand of je ne sais quoi. Everything his says and does manages to come across as an innuendo or vaguely lewd. Silvio’s got that sexiness of a man of the sea, Jin has that raw unbridled masculinity, Clavis has the enigmatic appeal of a mystery that’s hard to define….but Nokto has the manwhore ladykiller down pat. 

Nokto’s confident smirk falters a bit as she just stares back at him though, and he pouts that she’s starting to make looking at him with disdain a habit of hers. She agrees that she looks at him pretty icily, but Nokto (trying to make lemons outta lemonade, gotta give him props for optimism) he tries to turn this into a positive - that means she feels something right?? She wouldn’t bother leveling a cold look at someone she really cared NOTHING about, right? She’s desperately trying not to give in to her feelings and fall for him, clearly.

Clavis, Luke, and Jin all in perfect unison call this out as the bullshit excuse making that it is - and Emma thinks that she’s gotta agree. Nokto’s frowning over how hard everyone’s being on him.

Silvio’s laughing like, sucks to be you man - and then he calls out to Luke as the big slab of beef. Is he really not gonna do anything either? Luke seems surprised, and Clavis chips in to say that if they’ve all been wounded Luke should step up and take the blow to his ego too.

Luke says there’s no honor in THAT, this is crazy…but Emma speaks up then and leaves everyone dumbstruck when she says that she thinks Luke’s already very sexy just as he is. Luke’s like, really? And she says ya - giving him the once over, her eyes snagged on the water droplets running down his pecs. When put with his laid-back attitude, there’s a certain something she finds very attractive just looking at him. It’s sexy because it is so effortless.

Clavis, frowning, says wait - isn’t Emma being suspiciously nice to Luke? Jin says he’s clearly getting different treatment compared to the rest of them, and Nokto agrees she’s treating them like pests by contrast. 

She protests that she didn’t mean to do that…and Silvio states that it’s pointless to care anyways, even if she did it’s not like Luke really charmed her to the point of winning anyways. Luke asks if that means this silly battle is over - clearly there’s no ‘Sexy Prince’ to be crowned here.

Right about then, Emma lets out a sneeze, freezing now that Luke’s jacket has gotten sodden and water has soaked through it, getting her clothes wet and chilling her now. She takes the jacket off only to find that her dress is now as wet, if not WETTER, than the princes now. Apologetic, turns to Luke,  saying how sorry she is that his jacket is all wet now…but he’s only gaping at her in shock, for some reason. 

Bemused, she offers to wash it and give it back…her words trailing off awkwardly as she realizes ALL of the princes are gawking at her, wide-eyed. Until she finally asks them, what??? They’re all staring, and it’s Nokto who breaks the stunned silence to comment on how she’s wearing a different outfit than usual. She agrees, she’d changed into something a little lighter so she didn’t get hot going on her walk around the castle, just before it had started raining. She’s wearing a simpler dress than usual, a little white lace number.

And then slowly it sinks in to her.

White dress. Rain.

With a sinking feeling, she looks down at herself and sees that her dress is both plastered to her every curve AND because it’s white, is practically see through now - showing off her skin and underwear beneath. 

With a shriek of horror, she dives behind Luke, the biggest of them all, trying to use his body as cover to hide behind. Luke doesn’t hesitate to hold his arms out and try to block as much of her from the view of the other princes as possible, assuring her it’s okay they only saw a little bit. 

Clavis, soberly, apologizes. He says it was their folly to think they could claim the title of Sexy Prince, and Jin has to agree with chagrin - there’s no way this level of sexiness can be beat. Silvio, back to beet red, is telling her to just put a jacket on for the time being, shameless hussy that she is.

Congratulations, Nokto tells her, she’s won the championship. He wonders aloud what the winner gets then, and Clavis suggests they give Emma the title of ‘Sexy Princess’.

She sputters a THANKS BUT NO THANKS…and then, at the height of her misery, the rain suddenly stops and the sun peeks out again. As if the clouds had never existed at all. Jin jokes that her sexiness drove the very clouds away, and Clavis has to agree that she’s on another level entirely. Silvio grumbles over the time spent on all this nonsense, and Nokto suggests they all head back to the castle finally. 

It was beyond embarrassing, being gifted a title like ‘Sexy Princess’...buuuut she can’t in the end say that it was a bad thing, taking such lively shelter from the rain. 

[hwalovs]

A Smuggler and A Jedi 4/?

CHAPTER FOUR: HOPE DIES

Pairing; Luke Skywalker, Reader Warnings; Angst, burn descriptions, comic spoilers, fluff, some tension with Han, trying to explain the mechanics of an X-wing. some more chaos.  Word Count; 9k Note; Officially half way through the series! I’m grateful for all of you who love this story, this is my child who I take most pride in. 

ONE  TWO  THREE  FIVE SIX 

Summary; The murder of their beloved king at the hands of the evil Empire has inspired open revolt on Mon Cala! Thanks to a timely counterattack by Admiral Ackbar as well as the heroics of Luke Skywalker, Princess Leia, (Y/n) (L/n), and Han Solo, the Mon Calamari’s powerful fleet now stands ready to fight for peace and justice with the Rebel Alliance. Armed with new ships and new allies, the Rebellion is finally poised to take back the galaxy from the Empire in earnest. But the Rebels also owe their recent victory to Queen Trios of Shu-Torun and her defection to their cause. But Trios may have plans of her own...

THIS IS NOT EDITED

Pulling the yellow jacket tighter around your shoulders, you pinch your nose and lean forward, the droid in front still sitting with its arms crossed.

“Okay,” you huff, turning to Threepio, “Tell them ‘I’ll throw in the droid if I get 10 percent off.’”

Han chokes on a laugh, leaning back in his chair, bringing the empty cup up to his lips to hide his smile. 

“Oh, Madam! You can’t be serious!” Threepio cries, looking between you and Han.

“Oh yeah, of course, she’s joking.”

The cantina has a dark atmosphere, with different droids and creatures littering the area by themselves, nursing a cold drink.

“No Alaphani worth the name would give us 10 percent off just for a droid. Tell them the deal’s good,” Han whispers to you and Threepio, uncrossing his leg and setting the cup back on the metal table. 

“Certainly, sir,” Threepio sounds much happier at not being sold for transponder codes. As he talks to the droid, his voice changes to a different register as he effortlessly translates the sentence.

The Alphani sitting across from you was a sentient droid-type creature, you didn’t know where the beast ended, and the droid began, the switch almost indistinguishable. With small blue eyes that peek out from a thin sliver of gray skin, large blocky teeth, and long skinny fingers, you couldn’t help the involuntary shivers that ran down your spine each time it spoke. It reminded you too much of the droid-creatures from Jedha- except those actually scared you and could potentially kill you if you spoke wrong. 

Chewie makes his way to the table, barking at Han with frantic eyes and waving hands.

“What’s up, Chewie?” Han asks, finger twirling the cup on its rim slowly. Your once hot drink had gone cold after the deal almost took a turn for the worst.

Hans’ face drops, and he turns to give you a look of concern. Threepio twisted his head frantically to look around the cantina.

Sometimes, you really needed to invest in learning shyriiwook.

“Bounty hunters?! Where-”

“Don’t say it so loud!” Han hisses, reaching over you to slam a hand onto Threepio's mouth.

Chewie nods his head lightly over his shoulder, and you have to lean slightly into Hans’ side to see the two bounty hunters that just entered the cantina.

“Oh, maker- why now?” You say softly, turning to Threepio with furrowed eyebrows.

“Tell him good doing business with him, or whatever the equivalent is in alaphani.”

“Okay, let’s get to the Falcon, yeah?” Han pushed away from the table, straightening out his vest and looking down at you. Threepio nods, “certainly, madam.”

Reaching down to your belt, you grab the small leather pouch tied next to your holster, its contents clinking lightly as you set it on the table, opening it and fishing out the required credits. 

When Threepio turns back to you, you expect him to say anything but, “That’s ‘our regurgitated mouth mucus proved easy to mix.’”

Cringing, you provide a strained smile at the creature, grabbing the small device from its hand before standing, clearing your throat as you glance once more at the bounty hunters.

You wait until Threepio is standing before nodding to Han, both of you dashing towards the exit, the other two close behind. There’s a small smile on your lips as you exit the door, unclipping your blaster and pressing your body against the wall next to the door, Han opposite to you with Chewie and Threepio behind him. 

Cocking your blaster, you can hear the faint scatter of feet, and the door swings open, both bounty hunters stumbling out. Holding out your blaster, you rest its barrel against the closest hunter's head, smirking. Han mirroring your actions with the other.

“Hi,” you say lightly, catching the hunters’ eyes flickering to you.

“My droid will look after your weapons,” Han hisses, Threepio wobbling forwards to take the rifles, mumbling under his breath how ‘I would never do this with Artoo- what would he say now?’

The stinging smell of lingering garbage makes your eyes water, and the dark sky doesn't help with navigating your way back to the Falcon, both hunters are left at the cantina’s door, weaponless. The transponder code’s cartridge sits in your pocket, your blaster still in hand as you walk beside Han. 

“Tell Jabba I’m good for it, he’ll get his money! I swear!” Han yells over his shoulder, huffing under his breath as Chewie lowers the entrance ramp.

“It’s getting too risky,” you grumble, hearing Chewie bark from the cockpit. Han waves his hand, looking over the weapons that sit on the small round table in front of the curved couch.

“Once, we’re done here- I’ll pay off Jabba, and you’ll be able to stop worrying.”

“Han- you do realize that I’m wanted now too, right? Being seen with you put my name right next to yours on Jabba’s kill list, whatever stalling we do now, it’s going to come and kick us both in the rear,” you move past him, holstering your blaster and walking into the cockpit, Han hot on your heels.

“You think I don't know that? You didn’t have to come, I didn’t ask you to!”

“I know!” You shout, throwing yourself into your seat, “but I thought it was just a smuggle to Alderaan! I didn’t anticipate being dragged into all this rebel shit, but now I can’t just leave!”

Han rolls his eyes, “you can leave anytime you want- you just don't wanna leave.”

Chewie barks once more, and Han finally throws his hands up in surrender.

“Chewie, stop complaining, we’re not missing the party! Do you really think Leia would let us near the fancy brass, anyway?”

“Speak for yourself,” you grumble, throwing your leg over the armrest of your seat.

“Better we do what we’re good at,” Han sighs, rubbing his forehead, “and I’ve got a contact who’ll pay top credits for that prime collection of fresh transponder codes.”

“You’re welcome, by the way,” you say, smirking once more. Reaching into your pocket, you let the device fall into Hans’ waiting hand, his eyes looking it over before nodding once, sitting down in his seat. 

“We’re missing Luke’s show,” your voice is soft, picking at your nails. Han sighs, glancing at Chewie, preparing the Flacon for departure. 

“Oh yeah. Luke’s thing. Yeah, you got me there, I’d have liked to have seen that too.”

Threepio makes his way into the cockpit, sitting himself down next to you and clipping himself in. 

“Did you want to see Luke’s show too, Threepio?”

His head turns to you, “It would’ve been a delight, madam. I’m afraid Artoo will be quite angry with me for missing his big debut on stage.”

“Ugh,” you groan, letting your head fall back, “Tunga’s rubbed off on you too much.”

Closing your eyes, you can feel the Falcon lift into the air, the floor vibrating above the engine. 

“Do you think Luke is freaking out?” You ask, smiling softly. The entire time you were here, you wondered about him, and a small part of you hoped he was wondering about you too. Leia gave you a sad smile before you left, Luke upset that you were tagging along with Han. Why can't you stay? He asked you, blue eyes pleading. Stay, for me- and the show! Han is fine by himself!

The familiar lurch into hyperspace made your eyes flicker open, watching the stars extend slowly. Han leans back in his seat, rubbing his eyes harshly. 

“You look like a lovesick puppy,” you comment, watching his shoulders tense, slowly turning to look at you. 

“I do not, I am not a lovesick puppy.”

There's a brief pause, your quiet laughing filtering through the air.

“If anyone is a lovesick puppy, it's you,” he grumbles, turning back to the control panel. 

For once, you don’t respond, you don't quip back in a snarky remark, or deny the accusation. But the silence slowly eats away at you, consuming the last bit of unacknowledged longing for the blonde.

“Yeah,” you sit up, stretching your back, “I can’t seem to get Leia off my mind.”

Han ignores you but scoffs. Chewie growled out something to Han while turning to the large wall next to him, overlooking the Falcon’s statistics.

“Yeah, Chewie, you never know. Luke’s thing may have been delayed. Maybe we can still watch-”

The Falcon drops out of hyperspace, still a distance away from the Mako-to base. But that isn’t what makes your heart stop, stomach-dropping to your feet. 

It's the two Star Destroyers, accompanied by the biggest Imperial Star ship you’ve ever seen. From your vision on the back, the giant ship had twelve thrusters, wings spanning the size of three to four regular Star Destroyers. 

You almost fall out of your seat when you get up to stand in between Chewie and Han, who had fallen silent at the sight. 

“The show,” Han mutters, eyebrows furrowing. Chewie growls once more, tilting his head. 

“You said it, Chewie.” 

Threepio stands from his seat, trying his best to squeeze in next to you.

“Perhaps this is some manner of wargame, Sir? A Symbolic display for the dignitaries?”

Han scoffs, tossing a glare to the droid, “This ain’t no wargame, goldenrod! This is the most Imperials I’ve ever seen.”

“See if you can signal the base, contact anyone,” you say softly, giving the droid a small smile. 

“See any way in?” You ask, narrowing your eyes at the fleet. Han sighs harshly, shrugging his shoulders as he taps the glass screen of the radar, clicking his tongue. 

“Unless we get in contact with the base, there's no way she can make it through-”

“Oh, Threepio. Am I glad to hear you! Is Han there? (Y/n)? We need to-”

Leia’s voice was rushed over the com in Threepio’s hand, frantic as she speaks your names. 

“We’re here, Leia!” You call, smiling.

“Slow down, Princess. Tell us what's going on-”

“Han! (Y/n)! Trios betrayed us. She disabled all the rebel cruisers just before dispersal.”

Sharing a look with Han, you turn back to look over the Navi-computer, going back over your previous coordinates to see if you were followed or not. The last thing the rebellion needed was a band of bounty hunters or even more Imperial Starships. 

“They’re defenseless, immobile, and can’t launch fighters. We're trying to work out what we can do,” You hear Leia sigh softly, probably glancing at someone by her, “docking doors are sealed, but their proximities still work. If a ship flies at the bay door, it’ll open.”

You almost laugh, but swallow it, turning to call over your shoulder, “Just tell them to fly at the doors!”

“Their comms are also down. We can’t. We need someone to go and tell them.”

Han scoffs again, “wait- are you seriously asking me to go in there by myself, against the whole fleet, and then fly at a sealed docking door that may or may not open?”

“Han, this is the hour of need. If there-”

“Hey!” he snaps, rolling his shoulders as he shifts in his seat, “save the speech for someone who falls for that kind of thing. I’m on it.”

The Star Destroyers were firing at one of the Mon Cala ships now, green lasers hitting the deflector shield. Han flicked off the comm, cursing under his breath.

“This had better impress her.”

“Ha!” you laugh, pointing a finger at him, “you do like her!”

“I never said that!- You know, this isn't the time. Chewie, get to the guns, top turret.”

Chewie barks, getting up from his seat and ruffling your hair as he passes. 

“Okay, (Y/n), get the shields, yeah? Goldy, don't touch anything.”

You sit down in Chewie's seat, smirking at Han as you flick on the shields, grabbing the controls and swinging it into place. 

“You don't have to be mean, Han. Threepio,” you call softly, turning to smile at him, “Buckle up, Han is a terrible pilot.”

“I really don't need your side comments,” he grumbled, glaring at you.

“I’m just trying to lighten the mood, you’re terrible at it.”

“Will you just keep the shields up and balanced? If we stay close enough to a Star Destroyer, they’re not going to be able to hit us.”

Hitting the accelerator, he flies close to a Destroyer, pressing down on the turret and fires at the surface.

“We need fighters on us-”

Chewie roars from his spot, voice crackling through the comms, Han smiling as he shifts in his seat once more, pulling up harshly to avoid the highest part of the Star Destroyer. The radar begins beeping, blaring a high-pitched alarm as Tie fighters begin to tail. Cursing, you aim the shield, groaning at the pull the ship gives. 

“Yeah, I see them. Perfect.”

“Remind me why we’re happy we have Tie’s on our ass?”

“If we’ve got fighters, the big guys won't fire. Too much risk in hitting their own ships,” he replies, looking at the radar before steering right and begins flying toward one of the cruisers.

“I hope,” he adds quietly, “So, now we can make a run for the nearest rebel cruiser.”

You can hear the top turret firing, most of the Tie’s in front being shot down as you came closer to one of the cruisers. Chewie barked once more, causing Han to scoff and yank the steering close to him, the ship diving above the tie that was once below you, letting Chewie effectively shoot it down. 

“Kriff! A warning next time!” You yelp, holding onto the arm of the chair as your gut is glued to the floor.

“Oh, you’re fine,” he comments, rolling his shoulders once more.

“That gave us a few seconds before turbolasers open up again.”

Smiling, you glance away from the deflector shield, looking at Han, “Let’s get this over with, yeah?”

As you begin to get close enough to the cruiser to land, Han smirks, “the princess better be ri-”

He’s cut off, a blow hitting right below the Falcon’s back thruster, the ship diving nose-first below the Rebel cruiser, the ship rocking violently. Yelping, you spin in Chewie’s chair and look over the control panel, cursing.

“The stabilizers burning!”

“Reset the manual- Gotta pull out-” He strains, trying to gain control of the ship. Your head swims, hands flying out in muscle memory to reset, clenching your eyes shut as the space continued to spin. It wasn’t until the ship finally balanced out that you sighed in relief, Threepio still crying out, “We’re doomed!”

Chewie roars, his voice worried, “Yeah, whoever it was came outta nowhere,” Han calls back, looking over the radar. 

“Who the hell can fly like that?” you say softly, turning the chair back around to scour the radar, trying to pinpoint where the mystery ship was. You could hear Chewie firing, his barks, and roars echoing through the Falcon.

“Whoever he is, he’s good,” Han grumbles, eyes flickering across the control panel, “but this move should lose him.”

Han begins flying erratically, diving around Star Destroyers, but the Tie doesn’t lose sight.

“I do believe he’s still on our tail, sir.”

He scoffs, “just be quiet back there, I’ll handle the flying.”

Another sharp turn, kissing his teeth, “Chewie! Hit him already!”

You don't understand why Chewie roars back, but it makes Han tense. 

“Okay,” Threepio hums, voice tight, “let's not panic.”

“Why would I panic? It’s only Darth Vader.”

“Vader?!” You yelp, turning to stare at him, “We have Vader on our tail and we’re not going to panic?”

“Sir, Madam, I believe by your demeanor you are both somewhat panicked.”

“Are you a med droid now?” Han snaps back, “Just hold on.”

“I’ve been holding on, you idiot.”

“I’m going to bring us in fast. As long as our transponder is singing rebel, those bay doors will open right up,” He says, steering the ship towards the cruiser once more. Chewie’s voice crackles through his headset, and Han scoffs. 

“I know going in at this speed is dangerous. But I’ll tell you what's more dangerous; Being out here with Darth Vader!”

Pushing harder on the accelerator, Han grumbles under his breath words you can’t make out. A red light flickers on the radar, and when you lean down to look at it, your stomach drops. 

“Han, missiles inbound- you might wanna go faster-”

“I know!”

You don't remember the last time Han’s pushed the Falcon this far. The bay doors close in faster than you thought they would, and at the last second, han yells out, pulling up on the joystick to dodge the incoming missiles from Vader. The bottom of the Falcon jolts against the side of the cruiser, alarms blaring as part of the ship was torn.

“Kriff!” You yelp, trying not to fall out of your seat, eyes flickering over the control wall to gauge where the damage was.

“Oh, the poor people,” Threepio sighs, his metal hand on your shoulder. Raising an eyebrow, you turn back and look out into space, jaw-dropping slightly. 

One of the Mon Cala ships were evacuating, and the surrounding Tie’s were taking the opportunity to shoot down any escape pod they came across, the ship going up in flames. It exploded seconds after the hull was hit, some of the escape pods even being consumed by the fire. 

“Yeah. But right now? We’re all poor people,” Han sighs, leaning back in his seat, sweat beading on his forehead. When did it get so hot in here?

“Wait, that could work-”

“Han, please don’t tell me-”

“Chewie!” He yells, “Get down here! You’re never going to hit him. I’ve got an idea.”

You can feel Chewie’s hand press against your shoulder, his body leaning over his chair to look at Han, who was still looking at the ablaze Mon Cala ship.

Threepio lifts a hand, “Sir, I’m unsure what your plan could be. We need to pass Princess Leia’s message to the cruiser, but if we can’t get close enough to land how can-”

“That’s Vader,” Han seethes, “He’s never going to let us get close. But if we can’t land, maybe we can send a messenger? We need someone to tell them the bay doors work and you just need to fly at them,” he turns to look at Threepio, “you up for that?”

Groaning, you slouch in the chair, rubbing your eyes roughly. 

“Of course!” Threepio agrees, his voice loud, “it would be my honor! But I’m not sure how I-”

“Great.” Han quips back, “Get the droid to a pod, Chewie.”

Growling, Chewie lifts Threepio, throwing him over his furry shoulder and walking out of the cockpit, Threepio trying to talk to Han on the way.

“Okay,” you say, sitting up in the seat again when another jolt rocks the ship, the Falcon wouldn’t last much longer if Vader kept firing.

“I’m assuming we need a distraction? There’s no way Threepio’ll make it without being blown to bits.”

Sighing, Han tilts his head to look at the Mon Cala ship, your gut twisting. 

“Not my first choice, but it might be our only one.”

“That’s how we die, you idiot,” you seethe, glaring at him. Shrugging, he looks back at you with a sad smirk. 

“I’ve been blockade running since I got my own ship,” he steers the ship towards the cloud of fire, intimidating and screaming ‘death wish! Do not enter!’ “This isn't any different.”

“This is very different- this isn't the Kessel run!”

Ignoring you, the Falcon flies straight into the cloud. Immediately, the glass was covered with fire, small rocks, and debris hitting against the glass. 

“There’s no way Vader can follow us through this.”

Feeling sweat begin beading on your forehead, you clutch onto the arms of your chair, wincing when a particularly large piece of debris hit the side of the ship. 

Han was speaking softly under his breath, eyebrows scrunched in concentration with his knuckles turning white as he gripped onto the controls. The radar was blaring with different alarms, but the large red outline of Vaders ship was growing further from your path, Han making one last sharp turn before breaking out of the cloud, Vader nowhere to be found. 

“Yes!” Han cries, leaning back in his seat to press onto the comms, smiling lightly.

“Okay, we’ve got a little distance on Vader. Now see if we can use it. Ready, Chewie?”

Chewie roars back over the comms, Threepio’s voice quiet in the background. 

“If he finds an airlock, goldenrod will be able to tell ‘em about the doors.”

A small light on the panel began blinking, Han reaching forwards to hover a finger over it, “Okay, on my mark. Three, two, one and-” he presses down, and the Falcon rumbles for a moment before the airlock hisses, releasing the escape pod towards the Rebel cruiser. 

You hoped it didn’t take long for Threepio to get inside and relay over the information. Han continued to tilt his head to look at the cruiser, and Chewie managed to lean between the both of you, not shooing you from his seat but instead ruffling your hair in a sort of comfort when the hull of the Falcon once again groaned under the blaster shots Vader delt. 

It wasn’t until the first X-wing left the bay doors that you slouched and sighed in relief. You hoped it was Luke that flew out first, he was always the bravest out of your group. Always volunteering to go first when something dangerous came up, or when it came to heading out into battle against the Empire. 

There's more groaning and hissing from the Falcon, and the control panel begins you begin sparking, the engines going into overdrive. Smoke begins to seep into the cockpit, and you get up to allow Chewie to sit and begin tending to the Falcon. Flying behind the fleet of X-wings, Han settles the Falcon into the middle of the group. 

Cursing, Han grabs the headset, “Falcon to all of,” he pauses, glancing at Chewie who grumbles lightly, Han’s eyebrows shooting up, “‘Rogue squadron’? Really?” Han scoffs, looking back at you when you lightly slap his shoulder, “Listen, you can’t stay out here. Nuzzle up against the destroyers. Take it from a smuggler- this always works.”

Chewie barks, motioning around the control panel, Han covers the mic of the headset, leaning in close to the Wookiee, “Hey- I figure they don’t need to know the odds, either.”

“That's just false hope, Han,” you grumble, watching the control panel begin smoking. He shrugs, more flashing lights flickering in front of him. 

“Any hope is worth it. At least, that’s what the princess would say.”

“Han,” Luke’s voice breaks out over the coms, your chest squeezing, “the Falcon barely looks like it’s in one piece, what happened?”

Han chuckles, “Darth Vader happened. Keep your eyes open. He’s out there somewhere.”

“Fire from the capital ships is dropping off. Just the ties to worry about. Nice work, Flacon.” Wedge’s voice pipes up.

Luke laughs, “Yeah, nice work, Admiral Solo.”

Laughing, you slap his shoulder again, seeing him tense. 

“Make another joke like that, kid, and next time I won't come back to bail you out.”

More X-wings deviate from the group to shoot down more ties, the destroyer you were hugging was being shot at with missiles, and most of the on-deck turrets going up in flames. 

“What’s next?” 

“We need to spread the word to the fleet that they can still launch their fighters. Then we can have some company out here.”

Wedge’s voice cuts back in, “the entire fleet? Their comms are down and we can’t land on them all, they’ll pick us off if we split up.”

There's a pause, Luke humming lowly, “Maybe we don’t have to.”

Hearing a loud hissing from the main hull, you leave the cockpit in quick steps to look around, seeing thick black smoke coming in front of the back of the ship, near the escape pods. The ceiling was black, flames licking into the hallway as the wires sparked.

“Uh- Han?!” You yell, not knowing what to do at the moment. 

“Yeah?”

“We have a problem back here! We need to land the Falcon, now!”

The ship rocked violently, your feet almost sliding from under you, almost sending you straight under the fire. Turning, you rush back to the cockpit, smoke almost completely filling the tight space. 

“She hasn’t looked like this since the Kessel run,” Han grumbles, rubbing a hand on the controls, “hold together, baby, just a little longer.”

“Han, I don't think the baby has a little longer.”

Beginning to fly closer to the cruiser, you leave the cockpit once more to survey the rest of the ship, pinpointing the damages for when you inevitably had to repair her. That was when the ship rocked again, violently. It threw you off of your feet, side slamming into the wall, right into sparking wires. It burned through your tunic, pressing into your skin. Crying out, you push yourself away from the wires, the ship continuing the rock until you were flat against the roof, hearing Han and Chewie arguing from the cockpit.

Feeling your side throbbing, you try and touch the wound, but when you actually do, you pull away from your hand harshly at the stinging sensation that seemed to bite down into your muscles. 

You don’t know when the Falcon came to a complete halt, but you do remember Han lifting you from the ground while asking a bunch of questions, his hands holding your face while Chewie assessed your side. 

“I’m fine!” You cry out, pushing them both away. Han limps when he manages to pull himself out of the Falcon, Chewie helping you out behind him. The pain flares up your side, but you push it to the back of your mind, instead of focusing on the people that run around the hanger, a few x-wings left behind. 

“Get me anything with wings! I gotta get back out there,” Han says, his voice wavering. 

“Han- wait,” you say, following him down the side of the Falcon- or the bottom since the entire ship was laying upside down. 

He doesn’t reply, rushing towards the hanger’s exit and into the room with flight suits. He picks out one of the bright orange jumpsuits, trying his best to put it on over his tunic and pants. Looking at the array of suits, you pick one out that would seem to fit. Wincing when you outstretched your arm, skin pulling against your burn. 

“What are you doing?”

Han’s looking at you with furrowed eyebrows and tight shoulders. In his hand is his vest, scrunched up as his knuckles turn white. 

“You don’t think you’re going out there alone, right?” You say, pushing your legs through the scratchy fabric. Scoffing, he reaches out to grab your arm, “No, you’re going to the med-wing, you think I’m gonna let you go out there with, what, second-degree burns on your side?”

“I don’t think it’s your decision if I’m allowed to fly or not,” you hiss, pulling the fabric over your shoulders, zipping up the front. The white vest was next, pulling it on your shoulders and reaching to grab the small black computer that latched to the front. 

“I’m older than you!”

“That doesn't mean jack-shit! Can we go now? We’re losing time,” you push past him, walking back to the hanger and to one of the only X-wings left. 

“(Y/n)!” Han yells, jogging to catch up to you. Shaking your head, you climb the ladder and settle down in the pilot's seat. Chewie roars, hand settling on the nose of the ship. Han is on the ladder behind you, staring at you as you fumble slightly with the helmet. 

“I don’t wanna hear it! Luke needs us,” you bite the inside of your cheek, “the fleet needs us, now will you please drop this until we get back? Feel free to lecture me then.”

Sighing, he brings a hand up to rub his eyes, glaring at you before descending the ladder, passing by a frantic Chewie to get into his own X-wing. 

“I know! I know!”

The cockpit of the X-wing was claustrophobic. The joystick is positioned right between your knees, with the radar in the middle of the control panel. There were power diverters to the weapons, engines, and shields. With the hyperspace jump charge, the radar, aim assist, and engine restart, you found yourself overwhelmed. 

Reaching forwards, you flip the small line of switches at the top of the panel, the engine coming to life, the comm inside your helmet coming to life, the radar showing static before the light green screen becomes clear. 

Grabbing the joystick, you pull lightly against it, feeling the ship rise, the engine humming. The wings haven't expanded yet, the small switch still idle in front of you. 

“Luke,” Han’s voice breaks into your helmet. It sounds like he’s right next to you, filling your helmet loudly. “The Falcon is fried. We’re in an X-wing. Coming out now.” 

There is another roar from the hanger, and you smile at how worried Chewie sounds. 

“Yeah, Chewie. Don’t worry. We’ll be back. I’ve gone through worse scrapes than this.”

There's a moment of silence, smiling at Han when his X-wing hovers beside yours, before Luke’s voice floods your helmet, your heart lurching. 

“Good to have you, Han- wait, did you say ‘we’?”

Another pause, and you smirk, “Hi there, blondie, miss me?”

“So, can you fly just about everything?” Wedge cuts in, a smile in his voice. You don't see it, but Luke’s smiling, cheeks pink at the nickname you dubbed him a while ago. 

“Careful, Wedge, she’ll outfly you any day,” Han teases, looking over at you. 

Shaking your head, you flip the switch for the wings, feeling the vibration crawl through your body as the wings separate into two, more systems turning on for the dog fight you were about to fly into. 

When you fly out onto the battlefield, your radar immediately begins to blink with enemy bogies, Tie, and Y-wings flying all around you. X-wings and Y-wings defend the remaining Mon Cala fleet ships that have failing shields. 

You manage to stay close to Han when you come across Luke’s ship, little R2’s head spinning at the sight of both of you. You aren’t able to count the amount of Tie’s you’ve shot down. The X-wing under your hands doesn’t seem to want to cooperate, but then you remember that no X-wing can be tamed. The joystick fights against you but never disobeys. The blaster fire you send towards Tie’s sometimes miss, but after cursing and fixing your aim, you can shoot them down. 

“Luke!” Han’s voice strains, “A lucky pilot slipped past me. He’s coming your way.”

“Oh no,” You muse, flying back into formation next to Han, “A pilot getting past you?”

You can see the Tie on the radar, flying erratically to miss the remains of Han’s blaster fire. 

“Don’t worry, Han. I’m on them!”

There's a moment of stillness, you and Han watching as Luke catches up to them, but hesitates. The Tie doesn't evade the targeting system Luke uses, and it doesn’t try to get behind any of you to retaliate fire. 

“This feels wrong. Artoo, are the scanners picking up anything strange about it? No answer? Great.”

“Maybe they’re shy,” you joke, Han swallowing his laugh.

“You know, Luke. Put aside the fact they’re not shooting at us. They’re not even flying like an academy-trained pilot.” There's another Tie ahead of it, and it doesn't hesitate in shooting it down. Not firing at you, but one of its own? That's unheard of for the Empire unless they suddenly decided halfway into their mission to join the rebellion. 

“I don't think Tie pilots do that,” You say, keeping an eye on your radar for any Tie that might come in behind you. 

“Whoever it is, they’re on our side, I just know it. Rogue squadron! Form up on me and protect this Tie fighter. Wherever it's going? We get them there.”

“This is potentially a bad idea, what if they’re just trying to trick us?” You try and reason, but Luke had already made up his mind, and you knew that you couldn’t change it. 

“I just have a feeling, just trust me, please.”

The Tie changes course. Instead of flying out into dead space, it turns, flying straight towards a Mon Cala ship. 

“(Y/n)! Han! I need help, I think it's trying to land- but the bay doors won't open without a rebel transponder. We need to keep the doors open. Form up behind the Tie, tightly.”

Biting the inside of your cheek, you form up next to Han, following behind Luke and the Tie straight towards the Ship. 

“Yeah, yeah. I know the drill.”

Smiling, you check the radar again, “If we don't keep it open, that tie’ll just ram straight into the doors.”

“And this will have been a whole lot of effort for nothing,” Han grumbled. When you check the radar again, you almost shout, “Luke! Look out! They’re above!”

“I have to stay on target!”

You don't break formation, watching the Tie from above move into battle formations, shooting at your group. You want to defend Luke, to defend Han, but you stay in place, following behind the Tie. 

A blaster shot manages to hit the back of Lukes’ ship, almost taking out R2, but before they could take any other shots, the bay doors begin to open. The Tie’s immediately back off, probably thinking more X-wings were going to emerge and take them all out. The Tie crashes unceremoniously in the hanger, parts of the wings breaking off. The top hatch opens and Leia’s form pops out quickly, holding up something small in her hand. 

Landing between Han and Luke, you ignore the flaring pain in your side and rush to the burning X-wing, R2 whistling and beeping from his spot. The canopy opens, and Luke slides off his helmet with pink cheeks and furrowed brows. 

“Luke!” You yell, hauling yourself up the side to grab at his arms, hands running over the orange jumpsuit to find any injuries. When your hands finally rest on his face, you let your lips downturn into a frown, “you okay? Nothing hurt?”

“I- big shock, but I’ll be fine,” his voice soft, until his eyes flicker to Leia, his attention directed away from you.

“Leia! It was you?! How did you get over to the huge ship-”

“The executor,” she interrupts, voice closer. When you climb down from the ship, you push past a flabbergasted Han, wrapping the princess in a hug. 

“Thanks for not shooting me,” she says, pulling away, letting her arm rest around your waist. You ignore the stinging pain, opting for a wince that you hide in her shoulder. 

“Yeah, lucky Luke talked me out of it. Another few seconds and I would’ve blaster you,” Han throws an arm around Luke, who smacks it away with a small smile. 

“Oh stop it, I’m just glad you made it.”

When looking over her shoulder, you spot Threepio, sporting only the upper half of his body. 

“Threepio! Glad you made it.”

“Hello, Madam. I made it, but at the expense of my legs. Thankfully, master Meorti helped stop my wires from sparking.”

Meorti, who was sitting at the terminal, was waving her hand to your group, beckoning you all over. Leia is the first one over, watching over Meorti’s shoulder as she slides in the small chip Leia gave her. With Han at your side, Luke managed to peer over your shoulder at the computer screen, his hand on your lower back so he didn’t startle you. 

“All Systems operational,” Meorti says, smiling. 

Leia turns, wrapping her arms around Han, smiling brightly at him. You can feel Lukes’ arms wrap around you from behind, lifting you lightly into the air before setting you down. Your side burns. The pain seemed to be cranked up tenfold, throbbing down your hip and up into your shoulder. Luke’s hug made you think of it again, hot tears fill your eyes, and you just hope the others think it's from happiness. 

The ship lurches into hyperspace, but you don't notice, not like you do when in the Falcon. You’re too busy trying to swallow the pain, turning and grabbing onto Han’s arm. You wished Chewie was here, he would carry you to the med bay, maybe ruffle your hair while you get a bacta treatment. 

When you grab onto Hans’ arm, he drops the once happy smile and grips your shoulders, speaking to you softly, like you’re a kid that just got stung by a bee.

“Hey- hey, you okay?”

“I’m fine,” you reassure, but he can see through you, he always could. 

“We have to get you-”

“No, Han, please. I’m fine.”

Leia and Luke disappeared somewhere, their bright smiles gone, giving you no distraction. Han was still talking lowly to you, his voice barely managing to cut over the loud celebration of everyone since jumping to hyperspace. 

“This isn’t like that blaster graze- you’re seriously hurt,” he says, hands lifting your face to force you to look at him. 

“What are you,” you smirk, “my father?”

“Don’t try to change the subject-”

“Han! (Y/n)!” Leia calls, waving from the small crowd that was gathered. Luke was behind her but was talking to the rest of the remaining pilots. When she finally makes it back over to you both, she has a strained smile and worried eyes. 

“General Dodonna gave us the okay on a counterattack to get the rest of the fleet out- we have some ships to take so we can relay the information, but it’ll be dangerous.”

“Count me in, what's the plan?” Han’s full attention was back on Leia, but his arm still grasped onto your bicep, keeping you in place. 

“You’ll lead the transports to the fleet, and General Dodonna will create a distraction so you can safely pass through hyperspace. Rogue squadron will help defend the ships, you’ll lead. It’s the best we can come up with, with how low our resources are right now-”

“No, its doable,” you cut in, swallowing the lump in your throat and pushing the mission to the forefront of your mind. 

She looks at you then, eyes flickering across your orange suit before her lips thin into a line, eyebrows furrowing. 

“You got hurt, didn’t you?”

Han almost laughs, “glad you noticed!”

“I’m fine,” defending yourself, you try to smack away his arm, but his grip tightens. 

“You can stay in the transport with me and Luke, I don’t think you should be flying.”

“I was literally just flying, this is nonsense, you both sound like my parents,” you grumble, almost throwing your hands up in surrender when Luke appears at Hans’ side, eyebrows furrowed.

“Who shouldn’t be flying?”

“Your girl here has a burnt side-”

“(Y/n)’s hurt? When did she get hurt?”

“Like I was saying, she refuses to get medical-”

“Shouldn’t we take her to the medwing?”

“Will you let me finish?!” Han hisses, glaring at the blonde. “I won't let her get back in an X-wing, so she either stays here or goes with you two.”

“Will you stop talking like I’m not here?” Yanking your arm away from Han, you rub at the skin, narrowing your eyes at the three. “I’m fine to fly, this isn’t that bad. But if it makes you all shut up, then I’ll stay with Luke and Leia.”

You didn’t fight it when you were dragged into the small transport Luke and Leia would be flying. But you do grab Han harshly by the sleeve, pulling him down to glare at him. 

“I swear to the maker, Han, if you die or do some funky flying shit- I’ll literally kill you.”

“I don’t think you’ll be able to kill me if I’m already dead,” he snarks, smiling. 

“I’ll do some shit with the force and bring you back, just to kill you again.”

Luke laughs lightly from his seat, turning his upper body, “That's not how the Force works!” 

“Tough shit, Skywalker!” You retort, pushing Han away harshly before narrowing your eyes at him, “I mean it.”

“Yeah, yeah, don't worry about me.”

By the time the transports made it into the air, you were slowly dozing off in the back, legs outstretched in front of you while succumbing to the throbbing pain in your side. 

You knew Han was leading the pack, and that your transport was towards the back, but you kept your eyes closed, silently hoping that Han wouldn’t do anything stupid and that Leia and Luke would be safe pilots.

When dropping out of hyperspace, you groan lightly at the jolt, Hans's voice loudly crackles over the speakers.

“Han to Rogue Squadron. These little transports are defenseless. Form up on each one, and escort them to the cruisers.” Artoo beeped, and Luke sighed, “Be nice to Han! This is just one mission. I’ll be back flying with you soon.”

Leia shifted in her seat, hands gripping the controls, “I thought Threepio was the neurotic one, Luke.”

Smiling, you finally sit up, stretching your arms, “they equal each other out, I thought you knew.”

She chuckles, sarcasm dripping from her lips as she glances back, her eyebrows raised, “You’re constantly around Luke, of course, you knew.”

From your position on the floor, you can see the red and green lasers crisscrossing over each other, all trying to land a hit on enemy fighters. Amidst it, was the fleet's main ship, shields down and taking on fire. 

“Leia to Mako-Ta base. Can you hear me, Mon Mothma?”

There is a pause, before her scarily calm voice breaks through, “I hear you, Leia. What news?”

Brown eyes flicker back to watch the fleet, and Lukes’ flicker down to the radar, narrowing at the green screen, “Get all ambassadors ready to board, there’s enough room on here to save them all. We’re coming in to dock.”

“Woah,” you whistle, “he-”

“Look out!” Luke shouts, diving the transport harshly to the side, causing your body to almost roll across the space.

“There’s a Tie fighter coming right at-” Luke cuts himself off, and Leia's smile tells you what you need to know. 

“Nice shooting, Han,” she says.

“Nice flying, princess.”

“Oh, god,” you groan, pushing yourself off of the floor to lean in between their seats, “please don't flirt in front of me, it's sickening.”

The large bay doors open in front of your transport, and Leia manages to land softly, the ambassadors already filing into the room, Mon Mothma leading. 

Reaching forwards, you go to open the ramp, but Luke moves to do the same, your hands bumping just as you reach it. 

“Sorry-” he says softly, briefly glancing up at you before jumping out of his seat, hand brushing through his hair as he retreats out and into the hanger, greeting Mon Mothma first. 

“What’s wrong with him?” You ask, looking over at Leia, who had a small smile on her face. 

“What, you don't know?”

Your eyebrows furrow, “know what?”

“Maker,” she groans, standing from her seat, “you’re both helpless.”

When her figure retreats down the ramp, you pause for a few seconds, repeating what she said over and over. 

“Helpless?” you scoff, grumbling under your breath as you finally leave the transport, smiling softly at Mon Mothma, red hair perfectly styled, with her matching red lipstick free of any smudges. Even in a battle zone, Mon Mothma is calm and content. 

The Ambassadors behind her seem the complete opposite, all oozing with fear and anxiety. So, you turn and lightly place your hand on one of their shoulders, nudging them to start boarding the transport. 

“If the ambassadors can escape, we can keep the rebellion alive. This is absolutely crucial,” Mon Mothma sighs, her hands extending towards Leia, who stood tall.

“As is saving you, Mon. Get aboard, the ships are all about to go into hyperspace.”

Smiling, Luke rests one foot on the ramp, leaning his head down to speak into the Comm still attached to his flight suit, “you hear that, Han? Get ready to jump.”

But he doesn’t respond.

“Han? Can you hear me?” Luke tries again, shoulders tensing. Your smile drops, standing close to the blonde. It felt like a lifetime before Han finally responded, but there was static underneath his voice, which already sounded wrong.

“Yeah, I’m here. Engine’s gone -- failing. Artoo i-- giving it his best shot, -- nothing is working. Get --ut of here, kid. Make sure the Princess-- -ows what a brave guy I am, right? You-” His voice finally breaks off, static left in his place. Your body goes numb, the only resemblance of life left is the dull thrum of pain. 

“He’s floating out there,” Leia says softly, her voice tight. Your lungs refuse to intake air, head fuzzy at the thought of Han free-floating, attached to nothing, with no one but a droid he doesn’t even like that much.

You don’t notice, but your feet are already moving, lips forming words you don’t think about, “I’m going back for him.”

“No-” Luke strains, grabbing your hand tightly, pulling you back.

“I can’t leave him out there! There has to be something-”

Leia snaps her fingers, “wait, on Jedha, Han had an Idea. This is on a different scale, but if we can find a ship-”

Mon Mothma raises her hands, lips thin as she addresses your small group, “the main transport is ready to leave, you need to board.”

A sick feeling pools in your gut, and you almost sneer at her, “I’m not leaving him.”

Luke’s hand loosens, but he doesn’t let go. His thumb rubbed over your knuckles almost absentmindedly. 

“Just go, Mon.” Leia rushes, “We have to try and save Han.”

The older smiles softly, “be careful.” She gestures behind you all. When you turn, you almost laugh at the large docking ship, already pulling Luke along to climb aboard. Leia boards last, and Threepio already talking about the survivability of dead space in her arms. 

You manage to push Luke out of the pilot's seat, pausing to assess the controls before turning the large ship on, getting it off the ground, and glancing to the smaller transport before opening the hanger doors, flying out into the battle once more.

Hitting the accelerator, Leia and Luke both curse as their hands fly out to find purchase on anything around them. Finally spotting Hans’ free-floating X-wing, your hands find purchase on the magnetic ship clip’s button, and fumble to turn on the comms.

“Han, Brace!”

You press down onto the button, and when your ship flies over his, the magnet connects with the back of the X-wing, towing him along. Ahead, there were incoming Tie’s.

“Retracting the line now,” you grumble, glaring at the radar, multiple bogies appearing on the edges. The ship was getting heavy fire to the back, and you can hear Leia fight to stand up again, “It's getting rough, we need to jump!”

“Hyperspace, hyperspace,” you mumble, eyes flickering all over the control panel before finding the lever, a small blue bar on the side already alight and ready for the jump. Grabbing the lever, you yank it down hard, feeling the engines humming before the jolt to hyperspace sends the two behind you to the ground again, Threepio crying out as he fell from his chair. 

The system's diagnostic appears on a small screen near the radar, with red flashing lights and yellow caution signs already blinking. You curse under your breath, “engines are fried. We won't be going much further.” Blindly waving at the two still recovering from the ground, “find me a moon!”

You finally find solace on a small, deserted, and rocky moon, Corosi 7. Sitting beside Han, with your feet resting across his lap, you finally feel some kind of relief. With Luke and Leia sitting on Hans’ other side. Leia was hard at work, trying to forge a solid communication with eh rebellion.

“Hey!” she says, “We’ve got a transmission from Mothma.”

Taking your feet from Hans’ lap, you both lean into the small hologram of Mon Mothma, a deep frown on her face. 

“I have only moments. We all must disperse. We are in a more perilous situation than ever.”

Han scoffs, “Then get a move on. Tell us where Ackbar is so I can get back to Chewie and the Falcon.”

The hologram glimmers, her hands resting at her sides, “If I knew, I couldn't broadcast it. And right now? I simply don't know. Total secrecy was the point of the dispersal.”

“I’m sorry, Mon,” Leia sighs, “We failed. It’s all our fault.”

“It is not the time for apologies. We have more important business. Leia Organa: You are now a general. Luke Skywalker: You are now a commander. (Y/n) (L/n): You are now a Colonel. Han Solo: You are now a Colonel.”

“We’re being promoted?” You ask, a choked laugh breaking out at the end, gaze breaking from the chancellor to look at the others. She doesn’t mind, but she directs her gaze to you.

“The rebellion command has been decimated. Every candidate of quality needs to step forward.”

Han steps towards her, hand waving, “Hey, Mothy. I’m not going to be a colonel in any organization.”

“I understand. But it doesn’t matter if you take the position, Solo. You are a leader, rank or not.”

His hand moves to cover his mouth, speaking through it, “you don’t know what you’re talking about, lady.”

“So,” you ask softly, hand grabbing softly at Leia’s arm, “what are we supposed to do now?”

“Leia and Luke are your leaders. They get to make that decision now. Disperse. Hide. Organize. Strike. We must find our way to one another. We must find new ways to hurt the Empire,” she smiles then, eyebrows raising as she tilts her head lightly, “Good luck.”

When her hologram flickers off, you finally slouch back into your chair, rubbing harshly at your eyes. Your side still hurt, and you knew that if you didn’t have it looked at soon, it would only get worse. 

“How can we find Chewie and the Falcon?” Luke asks softly, leaning against the side of your chair, crossing his arms as he stares at the ground. Leia shrugs, slouching into the chair next to you while Han walked off, eyebrows furrowed. 

“I’m not sure we could even get there if we knew. This ship isn’t going much farther. How are we going to get anywhere?”

You can hear shuffling, until Han hums lowly, spinning around with the small chip you managed to buy before all of the chaos. 

“If we can get one more jump out of this pile of scrap, I may have an idea.”

Nar Shaddaa was the last place you expected to go, but when seeing the all too familiar ship barely out of sight, you put the puzzle piece together. You, Luke, and Han all took off the bright orange flight suits, and Leia managed to wrangle you into the cramped onboard med bay to wrap your side. Her eyebrows were furrowed, and she continuously asked if you were okay when putting on the soaked bacta patched, thoroughly covering the wound before wrapping it in bright white gauze. 

Now, you walked beside Luke down the hanger bay, yellow dust clouding over the ground as Han led the group into one of the more remote walkways, Sana waiting patiently in her green cloak and tan leather gloves. 

“Hey, sorry I’m late. I got dragged into the thing to end all things. Bounty hunters jumping us were the last of our problems.” Han reaches around his belt, unclasping the leather pouch and pulling out the small silver chip, “here’s the data I picked up from the Ring of Kafrene for you.”

Sana pulled out her own leather pouch, handing it over, “and here’s your fee.”

You can’t see Hans’ look. But from the way Sana’s small smile drops from her face, eyebrow-raising with a mischievous glint in her eye, you only sigh. 

“Wait, I know that look. What do you want, Solo?”

R2 wheels in behind Luke, Threepio strapped to his back as he complained about not being able to see anything, you feel Luke's hand lightly touch your lower back, “is this a good idea?” He asks softly, leaning in close to your ear. 

“I trust Sana, she wouldn’t turn us in.”

“If you’re in a smuggling mood, we’ve got some precious cargo that needs transporting,” Han’s voice is back to a confident, cocky, tone. One hand grabs his belt while leaning his weight onto one foot, “namely, us. We’ve had Imperial complications,” he trails off, waving his hand around. 

Sana, already smiling, closes her eyes as she shakes her head. Taking a step back to face her ship again, “I can't believe I’m this soft. Get aboard.”

You didn’t know where Sana was planning to go to hide your group, but you trusted her enough to keep you safe. While sitting in the cargo hold of her ship, Han and Leia are already in the cockpit talking with Sana about coordinates and flight paths, you stayed with Luke. Sitting by his side, you found yourself more tired than before. The blonde had already fallen asleep, arms crossed while his head rested on your shoulder, lightly snoring as his foot tapped against yours.

You knew that you would stick by his side, and keep him safe, already coming to terms with the fact that you would cross the galaxy if he called for you. Sure, you’d do the same for Han and Leia any day, or night. But with Luke, it felt different. 

You just hoped he would do the same for you. 

TAGS @beeblisss @fanfics-welcome @kaylahat @acupnoodle @citrusmando​ wanna be tagged? Send a message or comment! I’ll gladly tag you :>>

[kaleidoscopeminds]

Hi! I sent you and molly an ask after the uk leg of the tour asking for your luke outfit rankings. I would like to extend the same invitation now that tour is over. So, top 10 luke fits of the take my hand tour?

omg hello welcome back!!! thank u for thinking of us again and for giving @burstingsunrise and i a fun luke project in a difficult week 🥰 this took me too long and i’m still not entirely happy with it but lets go lets go

a non-definitive ranking of luke’s take my hand tour looks:

before i start i would like to give an honourable mention to what really tops my list, which is the ripped shirt and suit from the first banquet show, the first time i saw luke in the flesh. however as this was technically not part of the tour i have removed him from this discussion.

1. blue suit and tank top (minneapolis) 

do i even need to explain myself here. i don’t think i do. its so small on him. yum yum munch bite lick.

2. the beloved suit and vest (too many cities to list. pictured: concord)

the way this became luke’s fav and all of ours too 🥰 i’ll never forget the day he took the jacket off for the first time and i gave myself a headache from simply looking at images of a man and screaming my head off alone in my flat. also look at him here in his jazzy sneakers 

3. rainbow crop top and grey trousers (austin)

otherwise known as molly’s luke. i’m calling it a crop top because that’s what it is. how dare he look so cute in this image in his tiny tiny shirt. and then he did this. the trousers were nice too 😌

4. blue patterned top and grey trousers (phoenix)

another very small almost sheer shirt that showed off a lot of his body (we see the theme here we all see it), a companion to austin almost. watch this if you need any more convincing. look how beautiful he is here

5. stripy sweater and purple trousers (plymouth)

a little bit of my own show bias here that this has remained this high up but it has such a hold on me look how slutty and cozy he is 🥺

6. black long sleeve and check trousers (dallas)

such a deceptively demure outfit, but he looked uhhh very nice in it! please see here for added movement. cozy. slutty.

7. red suit (multiple locations. pictured: milan)

this colour on him is stunning stunning and there were so many beautiful pics of it. the white t shirt under this one was also very small.

8. grey suit and gold shirt (berlin)

this might be a bit of a curveball BUT this suit was gorgggg and he looked so very 🥴 after he took the jacket off. pls see here. he also wore this whole ensemble with converse i truly love him so deeply. 

9. grey suit pink shirt (new york)

this is purely because its pink i’m sorry. look at him all sweaty tho. his chest. yum.

10. purple suit (london)

my first proper show of the tour and it was so special and he wore his special suit and i got to tell molly about it 

[kindahoping4forever]

5SOS IG Story

[darkisrising]

Five Times, by DarkIsRising, pt1

Oh, yes, it is time for me to at last tackle this beloved fic convention! So excited, I’ve wanted to try one for years but it never worked out.  This WIP is a DinLuke, will eventually be Explicit, starts pre-Mandalorian S1 and will end post S2 Five Times Din and Luke Met (and one time they never parted) 

1.

He’s drunk, and he isn’t quite sure how that happened.

That’s not true, Luke  does remember vaguely how it happened, more or less, and it all started with Han.

He’d been the one that had brought Luke here. He’d said there was a guy with information and the only place they could find him was this one bar on Flausy. Well, they happened to be on the Millennium Falcon, and Flausy was just around the star system from them, so, sure, it made sense that they ought to swing by and find the guy. Get the information.

“Han,” Luke had said when they’d walked in and looked around at the bright lights cutting through the dance floor, the tight press of bodies grinding to the music together, the flirtatious finger waves as they passed by the lower-lying tables. “Han, is this a gay bar?”

When it became evident that yes, this was in fact a gay bar, and Han had in fact brought him here, a few other pieces of this plot had begun to come together. “Was there ever even a guy with information?”

“Not really. Lando mentioned this place. Said it might be a good one to bring you to.” Luke’s legs stopped working and Han had been forced to throw an arm around his shoulder and frog march him the rest of the way to the bar. “Come on, kid, loosen up. You’re too young to be this serious, and I figure the best thing I can do for my dear, sweet, too-serious brother-in-law is get him out of his head for a bit. Get him drunk or laid. Or both, that would be ideal.”

“Does Leia know about this?”

“Whose credits do you think I’m using?” he replies with a lazy grin as he slaps a card on the bar. A droid comes whirring up, towel slung over it’s cybernetic shoulder, and bleats out a question. “Shots. Lots of them.”

Now here he is. Drunk. A tiny glass with a swirling purple drink in it and each one he throws back makes his mouth feel more and more like a spaceship entering hyperspace.

Han is taking his job as Luke’s wingman very seriously. He’s leaning against the bar like rough trade—blaster strapped to his thigh, leather vest gaping open, a knowing slant to his crooked mouth—and every guy that tries to pick him up is nimbly redirected toward Luke. Han talks him up in a voice that is loud enough to carry over the music, but not nearly persuasive enough to do much good.

It would hurt his pride more—that not even Han’s classic bait-and-switch can do much for his dismal love life—but he has purple shots to keep him warm and if Leia is buying, Luke figures it would be rude not to keep ordering them.

“That tin can is checking you out,” Han says, nodding to a dark corner, and Luke lifts his head from counting the drink rings on the bar to find a Mandalorian in full, if a little worn and poorly matching, regalia standing there.

He’s also wearing a silver helmet with the kind of blacked-out visor that’s impossible to see what he might be feeling or doing or checking out under there.

Luke rolls his eyes. “Ha. Ha. Very funny,”

“He could be checking you out,” Han says with a shrug. “No way to know for sure.”

“Another round?” Luke calls to the server droid who scurries to obey. “You sure he’s not here for you? Maybe you’ve got another bounty on your head.”

“Ha. Ha.” Han repeats with an eye roll of his own. “Didn’t you hear? I’m respectable now. All bounties on me have been squared away, Leia’s orders. Now I’m just a faithful husband and a soon-to-be doting dad.”

Luke can’t help the hysterical laugh that takes him then, and for that he blames the liquor. He gets a punch to the shoulder for it that is harder than a friendly tap yet not quite hard enough to mean business.

“I do think Tin Can is checking you out,” Han says a few minutes later, thoughtfully, as he idly rolls an empty shot glass between his fingers.

“Maybe I have a bounty out on me,” Luke says, snorting down into his drink. *

As it turns out, Luke does, in fact, have a bounty out on him.

* “This is all a misunderstanding,” Luke says standing behind the Mandalorian in the cockpit of his ship as he prepares for take off.

His wrists are bound in front of him, something he could probably get out of with one well placed thought if he wanted to but, well, Han had been right. He has been too serious lately, too lonely, and there’s something about the tall, aloof type that gets to him. And he can’t get much more aloof than a Mandalorian whose face he has yet to see and who has only said a handful of words between capturing Luke and bringing him back here.

Also, Luke’s been drinking. That might also be part of it.

“So, is that bar like,” he tries to think of a tactful way of putting it, very aware that it’s been a long time since he’s tried this talking to (potentially) handsome men thing. “Do you go there a lot, or…?”

“No.”

Luke waits for him to elaborate but that seems to be all he’s going to get.

“Oh. Well, me neither. It was my first time at that place.” The ship tremors as it leaves the atmosphere and Luke lurches forward. He catches himself on the back of the Mandalorian’s chair with his shins since his hands aren’t good for much in these cuffs. “First time having those nurple shots. Have you ever had a nurple shot?”

No response.

“They’re purple,” Luke says helpfully. “Really, really purple. Strong, too.”

The ship makes a sharp turn and Luke staggers to the side along with it.

“I think I might be drunk,” Luke confesses and the Mandalorian snorts out a laugh, the first sign of an emotion he’s shown yet.

“You think?” And then because apparently Luke’s luck is holding he tilts his head and keeps talking. “How about you sit before you hurt yourself?”

“Wow,” Luke says as he falls into the copilot seat. “That was like a whole sentence. If I didn’t know any better I’d think you were flirting with me.”

Another snort, but that’s all the answer he’s apparently going to give Luke.

“That’s not a no,” Luke points out.

The silence continues on and the white out of hyperspace starts to lull Luke to sleep which is probably not great for his future escape plans, but he feels himself start to slump over nevertheless.

Kriffing Han, he thinks as he comes ever closer to passing out. Kriffing nurple shots.

Just as he’s drifting off he hears the Mandalorian say: “It’s not a no,” but he can’t for the life of him remember what they’d been talking about before darkness takes over. *

The thing is, if Luke were in his right mind he’d try making a pass at the Mandalorian.

Luke doesn’t have the most sexual experience, but for a farm boy from a nearly uninhabitable rock, he’s done pretty well for himself. He knows he’s got the blond thing going for him and that aw-shucks-I’d-be-delighted-to-go-down-on-you thing, and together that can be a pretty winning combo.

Or at least it is according to the holovids that he used to watch and then swear to Uncle Owen that he had no idea how those charges ended up on their plasticard account. Which is to say, he might not have experienced it all but he’s seen some things and if that one ‘vid ‘Mand-ooooooh!-lorian, vol.9’ had anything to say about it all it would take is the right smile, the right wink, and Luke would see himself bent over the cockpit’s console in no time.

Instead he wakes up from a dead sleep and manages to turn his head away from the man he’d really like to impress before vomiting nurple shots all over the floor.

“I'm sorry,” Luke moans. “I’m so, so sorry.”

If the Mandalorian is disgusted at Luke, it's hard to tell with that helmet on.

“I'll clean it up. Just tell me where you keep your supplies and I'll take care of it.”

The Mandalorian doesn’t so much as move from where he’s fiddling with the ship's controls, but still the cockpit door opens behind Luke with a whir.

“Right, yeah, okay.” Luke scrambles up from his seat to the door. A piercing pain is starting above his right eye that he tries to blink away. “I can figure it out.”

The ship’s compartments are narrow and the lights are flickering just enough to make his nausea even worse, but he’d said he would clean up and so he will. A storage door opens with a snick and Luke is staring at more weaponry than he’s seen in one place since the Rebellion ended.

For the first time since he’s been captured Luke wonders where his lightsaber has gotten to.

He remembers fumbling for it with fingers that had gone nerveless from the shots, but then the Mandalorian was hauling him away with some sort of cable line and Han was no help at all, laughing himself into a stupor as he leaned against the bar.

And that’s as far as he can remember.

Luke closes the weapons storage door, turning away a little too fast and the headache is worse now.

He’s wincing, reaching up with his bound hands to pinch at the space between his eyes when he realizes he isn’t alone any more.

“This’ll help with the hangover,” he hears over his shoulder before he’s swung into a carbonite chamber and unceremoniously blasted with freezing gas. *

By the time he’s rescued the Mandalorian is long gone, having collected on his bounty, and all Luke has to do is wait out the shivering aftereffects of the carbonite with a bemused Han shape that he can barely see through the hibernation blindness.

Squatting down to where Luke is sprawled across the floor, Han presses the hilt of Luke’s lightsaber into his hand and asks: “Did you at least get his comm code?”

“I didn’t. Even. Get his. Name,” Luke forces out through chattering teeth.

A warm hand claps him on the shoulder.

“Tough luck, kid. Maybe next time.”

[angelofarts]

28 or 34 for boggie? congrats on the followers angie!!!

tabi!! I ended up doing both but it got really sad - blame em/j

tw for mcd under the cut - my version of the alley scene

And I'm Holding On Like I'm Saying Goodbye

“Chill, man. Street dogs haven’t killed us yet.”

“Haven’t killed us yet.”

“Haven’t killed us yet.”

As Reggie clutched at his stomach and began to double over in pain, he cursed himself inwardly for the words he’d uttered so casually.

“Reg?” he heard Alex groan out. Reggie let out a pained gasp, reaching out to try to grasp at his friends.

Luke was the first to fall to the ground, sliding off of the ratty sofa and landing without seeming to care that he was arranged in the most uncomfortable position in the world. If he felt even a fraction of the pain Reggie did, he probably had bigger concerns than the bend of his wrist.

It was that that made Reggie startlingly aware of what was happening. Luke would never risk his fretting hand, not this close to a gig. Especially not this gig, the gig they’d worked so hard to get. The gig that was going to change everything.

Alex was next, falling to his knees heavily. Reggie watched with detached interest as Alex’s body crumpled into a ball, coming to rest with his forehead against Luke’s arm. Even in this amount of pain, Luke reached for Alex, trying to draw comfort. Reggie longed to reach forward, to try to join them, but the only thing holding him upright was the fact that he’d locked his limbs determinedly. If he released any of the tension in his joints, he was going to fall next to his brothers. And he wasn’t sure if he let himself do that if he would ever get up again.

“Guys?” he heard faintly from the entrance to the alley. “They need us inside. Have you all finished your streetdogs?”

Reggie let his head fall back, hearing Luke give a breathy moan. It would have been something to mock him for (lovingly, of course) if it wasn’t for the fact that Luke probably couldn’t articulate anything else.

“Guys?”

Bobby must have been walking closer, but Reggie had let his eyes slide shut by that point. He heard footsteps before a panicked yell sounded.

“Someone call 911! We need an ambulance!”

A man – Reggie thought it might have been the guy eating with his girlfriend at the table next to him – said he would run for the payphone. Reggie heard Bobby kneel next to Alex and Luke, heard him give a low moan of pain.

Well, he thought distantly. That couldn’t have been good.

“Reg?”

Reggie managed to open his eyes and smile. “Hi, Bobby.”

Bobby looked frantic. His hair, which was usually carefully styled for the beginning of a show, was in messy disarray. It looked as though Bobby had been raking his fingers through it. His vest was at an angle, and one of his suspenders had come loose. But most tellingly, his cheeks were flushed and his eyes were full of tears.

Something serious was happening.

“Reg, you’re going to be okay,” Bobby promised. “The guy went to call 911 and the ambulance will be here soon. The doctors are going to make sure you’re okay.”

Reggie noted somewhere in the distant recesses of his mind that Bobby didn’t say anything about Alex and Luke. That felt important. If only his brain could connect everything together… there was something he was missing…

“Is there anything I can do?” Bobby asked, reaching out to touch Reggie’s forehead. Reggie forced his jaw to open so that he could ask the only thing he could think of in that moment.

“Hold me? Please?”

Bobby, normally so reluctant to join in a hug or go in for a high five, pulled Reggie into his arms without hesitation. Reggie allowed the tension in his limbs to release. Allowed himself to go slack, trusting that Bobby would hold him up and keep him safe.

“What happened?” he managed to get out. The burning in his stomach was getting worse, if that was possible, and his vision was starting to swim. He wasn’t one to usually complain about there being an extra Bobby, but in this case it seemed like it wasn’t appropriate to joke. Not that he felt like he had enough air to properly pull in a breath to form the joke in the first place.

“I think food poisoning,” Bobby murmured, brushing Reggie’s hair back. “I told Luke not to eat those damn streetdogs.”

Reggie let out a soft hum. The pain was starting to dull, to go grey on the edges. He was starting to feel lighter as well – maybe the wind rushing in his ears was lifting him up?

“Reg?”

Reggie let out another soft hum, trying to figure out how to open his eyes. When he finally located the right muscles and cracked them open, he could see the tears brimming in Bobby’s eyes had finally started to fall down his face.

“Reg, you’re going to be okay,” Bobby whispered fiercely. It was like he was trying to will Reggie’s recovery into existence, but ironically that determination was exactly what told him what was happening.

Reggie realised in a moment that he was dying.

“Bobby,” he whispered, putting all the energy he had into forming it. That one name. That one beloved, cherished name.

“Reg?”

Reggie managed to twist his lips into the ghost of a smile. He felt so light, so disconnected from his body, but it was important that he get this out. It was important that Bobby remember this – if he could hear Reggie’s whispered words over the sound of the approaching ambulance.

“Take care of yourself,” he forced out.

His eyes slid shut.

[javier-pena]

re that recent javier post (the one with the vest), that hand flicking thing, that’s a Pedro thing not a javi thing i think? do you (or your dear followers) have more evidence? I need it. For science purposes

hello anon my beloved! it is a pedro thing i think, din does it too (in the rescue when he was to watch grogu leave with luke), however i cannot think of any other characters right now who do it, maybe my followers will know more ....

[old-hyper-super-clover]

Squeeze that bunny tail!

Part 2

Description: The RAD student council as well as the exchange students help out at a bar where, oops, the staff´s dress codes are those sweet bunny outfits that we all know and thirst for. The MCs, Violet and Clover, play a game of who can touch the most bunny tails over the evening without getting caught. Prepare for fluff, funny innuendos as well as my thirst over hot boys in bunny outfits.

The story is divided in several parts and will be updated every few days. Find Part 1 here.

Story continues below the cut, hope you enjoy!

Both, Violet and Clover, were fair players, so, as they weren't able to walk around in a pair the whole evening, Violet and Clover had to trust each other in counting their own points.

Their utmost priority, however, was still to help out at the bar, so they had to focus on that for most of the time. But whenever there was a chance tangible (in the most literal sense lol), their minds immediately switched back to their little competition.

Violet had already started with one point advantage, due to the squeeze she had given Beel's tail.

But the girl was up for the thrill, so it didn't take too long until she had found her next target.

Everyone's beloved angel man Simeon was on cooking duty with her and Barbatos.

While the butler was easily handling all of their tasks on his own, the other two were trying their best to actually help him instead of being in the way.

They were chopping down ingredients that Barbatos could throw into the hellfire hot pot he was preparing when it happened...

A cheeky little squeeze while Simeon was turning to grab another veggie, and Violet got her second point already.

The angel didn't seem to have noticed, as he kept talking with this precious smile on his lips.

The real danger, however, came through the door immediately after.

Glancing up from the pompom that Violet had just given a good squish, she locked eyes with Luke.

They stared at each other for a hot second, then Violet straightened up again, trying to remain composed while Luke looked like losing his shit any second.

"Ah, Luke!" Simeon interrupted his own narration. "Perfect timing!"

Violet gave a silent sarcastic laugh. No, not a perfect timing at all...

Luke was still trying to cope with the sin he had just witnessed, but now Barbatos approached him as well.

"Could I ask for your help with the special menu's 'halo donuts'?” Barbatos asked. “Simeon claimed it to be your specialty."

Now Luke was blushing at the compliment.

"U-uhm... Well, yes, I do make quite good donuts... Fine, I'll help!"

As he passed Violet, he threw her a last sceptical glance, but soon the girl could let out a relieved breath.

Getting Luke to fuss over reaching for Simeon's butt was certainly not something she needed, not so soon into the game...

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

Clover was trying to gather some safe points before risking anything.

Her main goal was to get at least ONE point, to be frank.

Looking at her options for low-risk points, her heart was beating for one particular target, but her blushy excitement made it impossible to approach that gluttonous teddy bear.

So she settled on probably the easiest target of all.

Belphie's first shift consisted of... Sleeping. Like, literally. The idea was to let him nap until his energy tanks were filled enough for him to actually be useful for proper work.

Huddled over the bar, the youngest of the demon brothers seemed so vulnerable that even Clover could bring up enough courage to go for that tail.

Couldn't be that hard, right?

Well, it could.

Just as she was about the stretch out her shaking hand, someone walked right into her way and startled her completely.

As the girl gave an awkward squeal, Mammon looked at her with almost as much fright in his eyes.

"Waah, human, what are ya screamin´ at?!"

"I-I didn't... See you there..." Clover mumbled.

"I literally just passed by..." He raised an eyebrow. But seeing how her cheeks were flushed all red, a little grin curled his face. "I didn't know you'd get so excited to see me, human. I mean, I can't blame ya for being flustered at my sight, but what's all the blushing for?"

"I-I'm not flustered..." she stammered, trying to calm down.

"Come on, you can be honest", Mammon continued to tease, his ego-boosting mode fully activated. "I look damn nice in those clothes after all."

Clover shot him a glance, mustering how his vest fit him perfectly, how his shirt was slightly unbuttoned, and that he looked prrretty dang fine in shoes with heels.

"You do" she agreed.

Now Mammon was the one to flinch.

"F-for real?!" he blushed, then cleared his throat immediately. "I-I mean, thanks, I guess."

Mammon went silent for a moment, trying to calm his heart rate over the unexpected compliment.

"Want me to pose for ya?", he seemed to joke.

Clover looked at him... and sensed her chance.

"Yes please, great Mammon!" she exclaimed.

His tanned skin flushed an even darker colour, but, being the model he was, he actually did some poses for her. Now Clover didn't complain at that -- Mammon WAS a snack after all.

But after a while, she prompted him to give her a proper view of his back as well.

He seemed confused, even more so as she told him to stand still, but in the end did not seem to have noticed how Clover quickly poked his bunny tail. And while he was busy bragging about something modelling-related, Clover also turned to do the same with Belphie's tail as he was still asleep next to her.

"Thanks, Mammon!" she cheered afterwards, having scored not one, but three points at once.

With a little hop, she tackled Mammon into a quick hug before running off in a giggle.

Clover nearly bumped into Solomon while running away.

"Oh, hello... Why in such a hurry?" The sorcerer dodged her perfectly, his eyes sparkling in amusement as he mustered the clumsy girl.

"Huh? Oh, Solomon, sorry. Didn't see you there."

He laughed. "Well, I did guess that, seeing as you were focused on Mammon so intensely. The only question is... What did you do to leave him as such a blushing mess?"

"... I hugged him" Clover said, shrugging.

But seeing Solomon's expression, she felt somewhat off. Was he waiting for a different answer...?

"Well then, time to get back to work" Solomon changed the topic. "We don't want to waste time, do we? The bar opens soon."

He turned, but had yet to get moving. Instead, Solomon was taking a look around, completely exposing his bunny tail to Clover.

Which was worth three points, after all...

And it seemed like just the perfect opportunity...

"Yep, see you", Clover replied, turning around herself, leaving.

As much as she liked Solomon, this man was emitting such shady vibes that there was no getting her to touch this particular bunny tail…

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

Clover had bragged to her friend about her point advantage soon after (and spoke of her concerns regarding Mr. Shady MCShady),

Which she'd later realise had been a pretty bad idea.

Maybe fueled by rivalry, maybe just because Violet had some weird kink for pompom-like things, she upped her game SO much after that. (A/N: Ok it's not a kink, I was prompted to make sure everyone knows that... (But also it's a kink believe me hehehe))

Within the next hour, Violet scored another four points.

"Asmo, Mammon, and Beel again?!" Clover cried out in disbelief when the girls found each other in the kitchen. "What's wrong with you?!"

"Hehe~" Violet laughed. "I just had some good opportunities."

Clover rolled her eyes as she was cleaning some dishes. "Yeah, great, and I've been running around with top tier difficulty peeps like Papa Luci or Solomon. Talk about unfair..."

"I meeaan... You COULD squish them..."

"Yeah, sure, and risk dying? No thanks."

"Solomon wouldn't kill you... probably."

"... I´m telling you something´s UP with that guy today, I wouldn´t be so sure of that…" Clover joked, although having shivers go down her spine.

Before they could continue this, the kitchen door flew open.

Levi was dragging a trolley full of dirty glasses along with him.

He seemed awfully pissed.

"Levi?" Violet called out. "Are you okay...?"

He threw her a glance.

"Do I think I'm okay? In a place with so many Normies?" He gave a sigh, then seemed to have remembered something. "Ah, Violet, Lucifer said he needed you in the dancing hall."

The girl gave a nod, quickly wanting to make a leave since only fools would let a person like Lucifer wait. She shot Clover a glance before leaving, gesturing her to go for Levi's tail while they were alone.

Clover instantly felt that awkward pressure back on her, but now that she got called out she had to do it.

As the demon began placing the dishes in the dishwasher, Clover slowly approached him.

"Can I help you?" she asked.

"If you've got nothing better to do..." he mumbled, not looking up from his work. "Although, you'd probably do better to go out and have fun with the oth- AAAGH WHY ARE YOU SO CLOSE?!"

Clover gave an almost equal squeal as she backed away in an instant.

"I WanTeD To HeLp" she screamed.

"BUT WHY ARE SO CLOSE?!"

"DON'T SHOUT AT ME, I'M AWKWARD."

"I'M EVEN MORE AWKWARD THAN YOU ARE, IDIOT."

They stared at each other with red faces until Clover crouched down to sit on the floor, recovering from this incident.

"Wh-what are you doing there?" Levi asked.

"Sit. I like floors. It's where I belong."

The demon gave her a weird look before averted his gaze in a troubled expression.

After a little silence, he would speak up again.

"... You belong outside, not here on this stinky kitchen floor."

"Huh?"

He bit his lip sheepishly. "Serving the guests, or at the bar... Where everyone can see you."

"... Huh?" Clover seriously didn't understand what he was blushing about.

He was staring at her, searching for words, but then decided to simply poke her bunny ears.

"... Bunny maids are a clear 10/10, everyone knows that..." he mumbled.

The girl blinked, now realising he was trying to compliment her.

"Bunny butlers, too, though" she replied. "You look really good", she laughed, grabbing one flap of his jacket to play with it.

"Adasdhegagf...!!"

Yes, that is a thing Levi can say, while flushing red and bashfully covering his face.

Not able to take this compliment, he ended up on the floor as well.

"You can't just land a critical hit without a warning... I thought we were confidants...!"

"Rank six confidants", Clover nodded. "But that's only more the reason to tell you what a snack you are right now-"

"AAAAAHHH DON'T!!" he screeched, turning away from her to hide his embarrassment. "I can't deal with so much kindness..."

Clover blinked at the bunny tail right in front of her.

Target locked.

She gave it a careful squish, then snickered a little before standing up.

"But you deserve it. That's why... I'm calling a confident rank up!"

He turned his head. "R-really?! Rank seven already?!"

"Yup."

"Woah... to think I'd be such good friends with somebody one day... Thank you, Clover-chan...!"

"No, no... I have to thank you, Levia-tan."

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

"You want me to select songs for the people to dance to...?"

Violet looked at the three monitors behind the DJ's table in the dancing hall.

Lucifer gave a nod. "We already added songs from Devildom artists, but we could use a little of a cultural mix" he said.

Satan walked up to Violet and Lucifer, now looking at the list of songs all together.

"We also need to add more to make the playlist last until the local closes" Lucifer continued. "I doubt that anyone will leave sober enough to remember such details, but Lord Diavolo ordered no repetitions in the playlist, so please, just help us out..."

Violet gave it some thought, not really knowing much about typical party songs. “I highly doubt my taste in hard rock will be a good representation of humanities taste in music, but... Well, that´s all I can serve with, so…” She came up with some nice picks from her own likings.

While Violet was eventually coming up with some nice tracks, in the meantime, Satan activated his pissing-off-Lucifer mode.

"Lucifer, you talk as if you'd know what a real party looks like", he mocked, referring to Lucifer's comment from before. "Have you even been to a club before?"

The oldest brother gave a huff.

"Of course I have."

"Oh? I meant on occasions other that picking up a drunk Asmo from IN FRONT OF the club."

"The answer is still a yes, thank you for clarifying."

Satan raised an eyebrow.

"Interesting", he hummed. "I can't really imagine you at a club, though... Dancing in the crowd... downing shots... or being cool in general..."

The avatar of Pride gave an annoyed sigh.

"You don't seem like a party animal either, Satan" he countered.

"Well I choose to avoid crowded places for most of the time. However, I still think I'd do better at settling in a club's atmosphere than you could."

Violet could almost feel how Lucifer's frustration piled up, even though he tried staying calm.

"Do you, huh...?" Lucifer leisurely responded.

And his outward calmness made Satan angry as well.

"You don't believe me?" the blond huffed. “Do you really think I couldn´t beat an old man at clubbing?”

Meanwhile, being in the middle of what felt like a flippin´ dance battle about to break out any moment, Violet prayed for them to stop fighting soon.

... Which didn't happen.

They kept bickering, partly because Satan talked himself into a fury and partly because Lucifer's pride was too big to admit defeat or weakness in any way.

Just when Violet had finished the playlist, Satan threw a final tantrum, leaving them with an outraged "Whatever!!" as he stomped off into another section of the dancing hall.

Lucifer pressed out a sigh, cutting through the awkward silence that had spread amongst them.

"What a troublesome child..." he mumbled.

Violet watched Satan with a worried expression, before turning to Lucifer with the same look on her face.

"... Don't worry, that is normal behaviour between Satan and me..." the male assured her. "He will get over his anger soon enough."

"And... What about you...? I feel like you are quite tense right now, yourself…" Violet asked.

"I should go and see where my help is needed now", he claimed, dodging her question.

Lucifer was gone before Violet could respond anything coherent.

Thus, giving a sigh, she decided to at least check how Satan was doing.

The avatar of Wrath was lumbering around some speakers, seeming as if he checked if everything was working as it should (despite having no idea how they were working.)

When he noticed Violet approaching, he only shot her a quick glance.

"Satan...?" The girl softly called out. "Are you okay?"

No answer.

It almost felt as if he was going to ignore her completely.

"... I don't get it” he then suddenly pressed out.

"What do you mean?" Violet took a careful step closer.

"I hate him" Satan growled.

The girl flinched, but decided not to say anything. She felt a certain frustration in his voice, and indeed, as he continued, his tone changed a little.

"He really pisses me off every time. I get angry, over nothing at all!" He clenched his fists. "And it makes me angry, his stupid face, his cocky attitude...!"

Then his shoulders fell. "... Why can't I just ignore him? I get angry, and then I get angry over getting angry. It's so...!"

Violet listened to him patiently.

"... It's so frustrating..." He mumbled.

"I can fathom..." Violet claimed, shooting him an encouraging smile as he slowly turned towards her. "But... Don't you think it's already a big step that you don't actually want to be angry?"

"... But what good is that when I do get angry after all?"

"You can't accomplish everything immediately” her expression softened even more. “What's important though is that you at least try."

Satan seemed sceptical, but in the end gave a slight nod.

"I guess... I'm sorry for bothering you."

The girl shook her head in a smile. "You´re not a bother. I´m glad you felt comfortable enough to tell me."

Shyly, she spread her arms, inviting him into a hug. A little awkward himself, he gave a little laugh before stepping close to embrace her.

"Everyone needs to vent out their anger sometimes" Violet reassured.

"... Thanks", he whispered.

As they parted, Satan turned to inspect the speakers again.

"Anyway... I think we checked through everything we needed in the dance hall. I will look over this here and then head out for my break."

"Mhm..." Violet muttered. "Sounds good..."

And there, she went for it.

A little touch - she didn't dare to do more than that.

But Satan's bunny tail had been successfully poked.

He continued to speak like nothing happened, so Violet dared to wish she had went for a whole squeeze instead.

"I should be going now", the girl said.

"Alright" Satan was still focused on inspecting the equipment, so Violet made her leave.

Unconsciously, she turned her head shortly before leaving the hall.

A shiver went down her spine, leaving her paralyzed for what felt like her last moments alive.

Satan's alarmed, slightly angered glare was cutting through the air, focussing her for a hot second before he decided to turn around again.

Hurrying out of the dance hall, dodging Solomon as he had nearly run into her, Violet quickly pulled out her phone as she had withdrawn from the scene of crime:

Violet: Clover I think Satan noticed me.

Clover: As in Senpai noticed me?

Violet: ...

Clover: :D

Violet: ... No, I squeezed his tail, but later on he was staring at me. Help.

Clover: ... So he's a three-pointer now?

Violet: I don't know but I feel like I nearly died so probably.

Clover: Lolol well that's what you get from messing with Satan. But I'll be kind and give you those two points. He did not confront you about it, after all.

"Hey, Violet!"

Violet flinched so heavily she nearly let go of her phone. Her first instinct had feared it was Satan calling her, but actually, she turned to look at somebody else.

"Lord Diavolo", she said. "Can I help you with anything?"

"I want to place the free snacks on the dining tables" he smiled. "Most of them are from the human world, so I want you to help me choose the best."

He was already going ahead, leaving Violet no room to explain that she's actually SO not a snacking person and had near to no idea how to help him.

Someone gave Diavolo keys for the storage room, and as they stepped inside, he turned on the lights.

"Woah...", Violet's mouth fell open. "That's... A lot of stuff."

"Fascinating, isn't it? You humans are so creative when it comes to food!"

He led her further inside where the snacks were stored.

Even though Violet liked him a lot, it still felt weird, being alone with the Prince of the whole flippin Devildom. You wouldn't have guessed it from Diavolo's carefree aura, but Violet was fairly overwhelmed, being able to walk alongside him so casually.

She tried her best at giving some advice as they looked through the huge collection together.

"We should go with a good mix of sweet and salty snacks" she explained. "Pretzels, chips or peanuts, together with something more delicate, gummies for example."

Diavolo beamed her a smile.

"I knew I could count on you!"

And he started grabbing things off the shelves.

Violet was helping, of course, but the storeroom was also tall as frick, so for lots of bags, she had to ask Diavolo to reach for it.

And that's when it hit her.

The currently vulnerable Diavolo, reaching for a bag of extra cheesy Tortilla chips, exposing his three-point worth bunny tail, only centimetres away from Violet's reach.

She literally only had to stretch out her hand a tiny bit.

And with the waterfall of words that Diavolo was talking, he wouldn't even notice.

It would be so easy.

But she couldn't do it.

She looked around. Between all the shelves, all the packages, back to the door they came from.

They were alone. She was sure of it.

But also, Violet had never felt more watched over than in this exact moment.

There was this presence lurking in the back of her neck, threatening her the more she tried to stretch out her arm.

Waiting for her to make one false decision...

"Extra DOUBLE cheesy?!"

Diavolo turned around, holding up a bag of Doritos. "Humans are so crazy!!"

Violet blinked at him, only now noticing that her whole body had tensed up so much it almost hurt.

"Y-yeah..."

As they walked out of the storeroom, arms full with all sorts of snacks, Violet gave a sigh. She had been so close... Only a little closer, and she…

"Should I take some of those from you?"

Violet did a little jump as she heard the voice next to her ear.

Barbatos was right beside her, smiling and tilting his head a little.

"My apologies, I didn't mean to scare you."

The way he mustered her, with his bunny ears and the bow tie around his neck, he looked so cute when he gently pulled most of the bags out of Violet's grip,

But sure as hell, today the girl learned to never pull any kind of prank on the Lord of the Devildom. Ever.

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

Violet was trying to catch a breath so she allowed herself a quick time-out in the bathroom. When she stepped outside again, she saw Solomon waving her over.

"I heard you and Lord Diavolo brought snacks to display? Would you mind helping me bring them to the tables?"

She gave a nod as an answer.

"Great. Then, let's divide them into the bowls first, and then go around with one of the trays."

And so they did. There wasn't much happening, really. Not much chatting, but nothing strange either.

Just one thing...

A bunch of perfect occasions to squeeze Solomon's bunny tail. Like, every few moments, he was focussing on something, leaving a perfect opening...

Violet left this situation without gaining any more points.