#you seem to have forgotten to flip that little lever to save my eyes there but i trust that you meant to thank you and be on your way!''

[astraltrickster]

A poll absolutely not born of me being extremely frustrated with the behavior I saw of other drivers on the way home from stargazing nope no personal vendettas here--

[swan-of-sunrise]

Taking Care of Business (Chapter Nineteen)

Summary: (Y/N), Din and the others recruit two familiar Mandalorians to help them rescue Grogu, and the pair shares a quiet moment before the siege on Moff Gideon’s cruiser.

Pairing: Din Djarin X Reader

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings/Disclaimers: None

A/N: I hope you all enjoy!

Chapter Nineteen The Rescue (Previous Chapter)

“Maker, these Lambda shuttles are hunks of junk,” (Y/N) grumbled to herself, entering the shuttle’s cockpit and moving to sit in the main pilot’s seat. After checking that Boba hadn’t accidentally damaged any of its functions when he’d used the ion cannon or when he’d latched onto its roof, she began charting their course; they’d all agreed that if they were going to storm Moff Gideon’s cruiser, then they’d need all the help that they could get and Din was dead-set on a familiar group of Mandalorians. “‘Might of the Galaxy,’ my ass…”

Just as she finished prepping for the jump to hyperspace, Cara entered the cockpit and plopped down in the co-pilot’s seat. “I took care of the bodies, stowed their weapons in the back. How’d everything lookin’ in here?”

“There’s some very minor damages caused by that ion cannon, but nothing too serious. We’re just waiting on word from-”

“Come in, (Y/N).”

She pressed a button beside the shuttle’s communication radio and replied, “(Y/N) here. Is everything good on your end?”

“Yep, we’re ready to leave when you are.” Once she assured Din that they were, the shuttle shook as Boba unlatched the Slave I. “I’ll see you when we land. Cuyir morut’yc, alor’ad. Be safe.”

(Y/N) smiled at his parting words, the Mando’a making her heart warm in her chest. “You too.” Switching off the communication radio, her hands flipped several switches before settling on one of the main levers. “Jumping to hyperspace in three…two…one.” She pushed the lever up, sending the Imperial shuttle flying into space; glancing away from the shuttle’s viewport, she took in Cara’s tense demeanor and furrowed her brow in concern. “Are you okay, Cara?”

The marshal glanced up with a brief smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Yeah, I’m good. One of those Imps said some things that hit a little close to home, that’s all.” Nodding, (Y/N) moved to turn her attention back to the shuttle’s controls but stopped when Cara softly spoke her name and asked, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, but what made you decide to join the Rebellion?”

Biting her lip, (Y/N) hesitated for a moment before answering. “After my mother died and I left Naboo, I thought that I could turn a blind eye to the Empire and live my life the way I wanted. I’d spent my entire childhood under their control, after all; no one would fault me for wanting to enjoy my freedom. But the older I got, the harder it became to ignore all the suffering across the galaxy and when I caught wind that the Alliance Starfleet was looking to recruit smugglers, all I could think about were my mother’s last words to me…” Her fingers began playing with the bottom hem of her Shaak-skin jacket. “‘Choose courage over fear, and you can change the stars.’ So, that’s what I did.” She sniffed and let out an awkward chuckle before turning back to the controls. “I’m not sure if that’s the answer you were looking for, but it’s the only one I’ve got.”

“I just needed to be reminded of all the good people who fought on our side…so yeah, it was a pretty good answer.”

The pair spent the rest of the journey in comfortable silence, soon coming out of hyperspace and entering the planet’s upper atmosphere. (Y/N) landed the shuttle beside the Slave I and followed Cara out onto the planet’s surface, where Din and Boba were already waiting. Although they’d only been apart for a short while, (Y/N) felt herself begin to relax as her eyes met the visor of the Mandalorian’s helmet.

“You three go ahead, Fennec and I can keep an eye on Pershing,” Cara gave them a brief nod before turning and boarding the Slave I, where Fennec was securing the clone engineer’s wrists in binders.

“Let’s hope that this idea of yours’ll work.”

Din’s hand came to rest on the small of her back as the three of them began walking towards the small outpost. “It’ll work, alor’ad.” They made their way through the quiet outpost and entered the nearly-deserted cantina, where two familiar Mandalorians were enjoying their meals in the back of the room; exchanging a glance with Din, (Y/N) followed him over to their table and watched as the one Din claimed was named Koska nudged Bo-Katan, who immediately looked up at them. “We need your help.”

Bo-Katan’s brow rose as she examined the three of them. “Not all Mandalorians are bounty hunters. Some of us serve a higher purpose.”

Frustration was evident in Din’s voice as he shot back, “They took the child.”

“Who?”

“Moff Gideon.” (Y/N) frowned, taking in the sudden shift of Bo-Katan’s demeanor. “What?”

The Mandalorian looked back down at the table before replying, “You’ll never find him.”

(Y/N) bit her lip to keep from saying anything derogatory and Din’s gloved hands tightened into fists, but it was Boba Fett who decided to speak up. “We don’t need these two, let’s get out of here.”

Din and Boba began turning away but (Y/N) froze, her eyes narrowing as she watched Bo-Katan look up at the bounty hunter with barely-concealed distaste. “You are not a Mandalorian.”

“Never said I was.”

Koska snorted in amusement. “I didn’t know sidekicks were allowed to talk.”

Chuckling, Boba stepped closer to the Mandalorian. “Well, if that isn’t the Quacta calling the Stifling slimy.” Koska quickly stood, her chin jutted out in defiance, and (Y/N) had to stop herself from rolling her eyes at the scene the two were making. “Easy there, little one.”

“You’ll be talking through the window of a bacta tank.”

“All right, easy,” Bo-Katan commanded. “Save it for the Imps.”

After a tense moment, Koska sat back down at the table and (Y/N) sighed in relief as she focused her attention back on Bo-Katan. “We have his coordinates.”

The Mandalorian blinked in surprise. “You can bring me to Moff Gideon?”

“The Moff has a light cruiser; it could be helpful in your effort to regain Mandalore.”

Beside Din, Boba scoffed at his words. “You gotta be kidding me, Mandalore? The Empire turned that planet to glass.”

(Y/N) exhaled through her nose, crossing her arms over her chest as both Mandalorians glared at the bounty hunter; it would’ve been less of a hassle to visit Tatooine and ask kriffing Cobb Vanth for help, she thought to herself, wearily watching Bo-Katan level her hardened gaze at Boba. “You are a disgrace to your armor.”

“This armor belonged to my father.”

“Don’t you mean your donor?”

Din and (Y/N), who’d both started forward to break up the confrontation, both froze in their tracks; the bounty hunters shoulders were tense as he took another step towards Bo-Katan. “Careful, princess.”

“You are a clone,” Bo-Katan smirked and both Mandalorians stood, their meals long forgotten. “I’ve heard your voice thousands of times.”

“Mine might be the last one you hear.”

Boba’s threat spurred Koska into finally attacking and the two of them began to viciously fight. Wrapping an arm around (Y/N)’s waist, Din tugged her to his side and held her securely against him as they watched the fight, sighing deeply in frustration. “Mandalorians.”

“I told you that we should’ve gotten Cobb Vanth’s help instead.” At her words, Din grumbled something under his breath and all she could make out was something that sounded suspiciously like ‘flirt,’ making the corner of her mouth curl into a small teasing grin. “I never would’ve pegged you as the jealous type, you’re such a calm and level-headed man…”

She could feel Din’s arm tighten around her waist and she just knew that he was rolling his eyes at her beneath his helmet. “Mir'sheb.”

“I love you too.” They both turned their attention back to the fight and (Y/N) nearly facepalmed when she saw the pair ignite their flamethrowers. “Dank farrik, this is getting ridiculous.”

It seemed that the second Mandalorian felt the same. “Enough, both of you! If we had shown half that spine to the Empire, we would have never lost our planet.” Boba and Koska both extinguished their flamethrowers and as the bounty hunter got to his feet, Bo-Katan turned to face her and Din. “We will help you. In exchange, we will keep that ship to retake Mandalore.” The Mandalorian stepped closer to Din, and (Y/N)’s brow furrowed as she continued, “If you should manage to finish your quest, I would have you reconsider joining our efforts. Mandalorians have been in exile from our home world for far too long.”

“Fair enough.”

Din let go of her waist and was beginning to lead her towards the cantina’s door when Bo-Katan spoke up again. “One more thing. Gideon has a weapon that once belonged to me, it is an ancient weapon that can cut through anything.”

“Almost anything,” Koska interjected.

Bo-Katan nodded. “It cannot cut through pure beskar.” At her words, (Y/N)’s thoughts instantly went to Ahsoka Tano and her two pure-white lightsabers; why would someone who’s not a Jedi want a weapon like that, she silently wondered, an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of her stomach. “I will kill the Moff and retake what is rightfully mine. With the Darksaber restored to me, Mandalore will finally be within reach.”

“Help us rescue the child and you can have whatever you want,” He nearly snapped, and (Y/N) could tell that Bo-Katan was beginning to frustrate him. “He is our only priority.”

“If we’re all done fighting with each other, we should head back to the ship.” (Y/N) interjected, turning and leading the way back to the Slave I; walking beside Din, she quietly asked, “Was it just me or was that whole Darksaber thing a little strange?” He nodded but remained silent, and soon they were all boarding the ship.

Bo-Katan and Koska joined Cara in pulling up a hologram of Moff Gideon’s cruiser and Fennec made her way over to where (Y/N) and Din were leaning against the wall of the ship. “These two seem like they’re fun to hang around.”

(Y/N) smiled in amusement. “Yeah, they’re a barrel of laughs. I’ve gotta admit, it’s a little aggravating that they care more about Moff Gideon’s cruiser and his Darksaber than Grogu.”

“I know, but we need them to get onboard that cruiser.” Din glanced over at Dr. Pershing. “Has he said anything yet?”

Fennec shook her head. “Nothing. Want me to make him talk?”

“No, it’s okay; I’ve got a feeling he’ll be helpful on his own.”

Bo-Katan called them over and they moved closer as she pointed to the hologram. “This is Moff Gideon’s Imperial light cruiser. In the old days, it would carry a crew of several hundred but now it operates with a tiny fraction of that.”

“Your assessment is misleading.”

(Y/N) turned around to look at Dr. Pershing; the clone engineer was staring at the floor, his mouth set in a firm line. He certainly doesn’t act like the typical Imp, she thought to herself while Cara scoffed. “Oh great, an objective opinion.”

Dr. Pershing’s eyes flicked up to meet theirs. “This isn’t subterfuge, I assure you.” He turned to (Y/N) and after taking a moment to examine his pleading face, she nodded for him to continue. “There’s a garrison of dark troopers on board. They’re the ones who abducted the child.”

Across from (Y/N), Cara began cleaning one of her knives with a spare rag. “How many troopers do they have armed in those suits?”

“These are a third-generation design; they are no longer suits. The human inside was the final weakness to be solved…they’re droids.”

(Y/N) nodded in agreement. “It’s true, I saw them when they took…when they took Grogu.” She turned back to the clone engineer. “Where are they bivouacked?”

Dr. Pershing got up from his seat and moved to stand beside the hologram. “They’re held in cold storage in this cargo bay.” He pointed to a section of the cruiser. “They draw too much power to be kept at ready.”

“And how long to power up?” Fennec asked, her eyes narrowing as she examined the hologram before them.

“A few minutes, perhaps.”

“Where is the child being held?” Din’s words were clipped and business-like, but (Y/N) could detect the pain in his voice as he spoke.

The clone engineer brought up a different section of the hologram that clearly looked like a cell. “This is the brig. The child’s being held here under armed guard.”

“Very well,” Bo-Katan examined the hologram while she continued, “We split into two parties.”

(Y/N) felt the smooth leather of Din’s glove brush her hand. “(Y/N) and I go alone.”

Bo-Katan sighed but nodded. “Fine. Phase One, Lambda shuttle issues a distress call. Two, we emergency land at the mouth of the fighter launch tube, cutting off any potential interceptors. Koska, Fennec, Dune and myself disembark with maximum initiative. Once we’ve neutralized the launch bay, we make our way through these tandem decks in a penetration maneuver.”

“And the two of us?” (Y/N) asked.

“We’ll be misdirection; once we draw a crowd, you two slip through the shadows, get the kid.”

Cara stopped cleaning her knife and glanced up at them all. “Those dark troopers are gonna be a real skank in the scud pie.”

Leaning closer to the hologram, (Y/N) observed, “Their bay is on the way to the brig.” She looked over at Dr. Pershing. “Can we make it there before they deploy?”

He nodded. “It’s possible.”

“Here,” Fennec grabbed a code cylinder from the clone engineer’s pocket and handed it to Din. “Take his code cylinder and seal off their holding bay. Anyone else, we can handle.”

Din clutched the code cylinder in his hand, the visor of his helmet looking down at (Y/N) while he replied, “We’ll meet you all at the bridge. Now, let’s start planning out Phase One…”

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

After they finalized their plan, they all boarded the Lambda shuttle and entered hyperspace, closely followed by Boba in the Slave I. (Y/N) was seated in the main pilot’s chair at the others’ insistence; for their plan to work, they needed to look as if they were under attack by Boba’s ship, and there was no one better qualified to perform that type of flying than her. The others were keeping busy by cleaning their blasters and donning their armor, but Din was motionless in the co-pilot seat beside her; Moff Gideon doesn’t have a clue what’s in store for him when Din gets a hold of him, she thought to herself, her eyes still trained on the swirling blue outside of the viewport.

As if in-tuned with her thoughts, Din suddenly stood and asked her to join him in the back compartment. She followed him deeper into the shuttle and once they entered the compartment, she shut the door behind them; just as she was turning around to face him, she heard the unmistakable sound of his beskar helmet being removed and her heart leapt into her throat. She reached a hand out towards the control panel to dim the lights, but a larger hand appeared and halted hers; Din’s tanned fingers gently held her wrist, bringing it up to where he stood behind her and pressing his lips to her knuckles. “Please, I…I need you to see me, alor’ad.”

Taking a steadying breath, (Y/N) slowly turned around and looked up at Din’s face. Back in the refinery on Morak, she didn’t have much time to closely examine her partner’s features but what she had studied were his eyes; they were the warmest shade of brown and, much to her surprise, incredibly expressive. Meeting his concerned gaze had quickly calmed her down and made her feel safe in that mess hall, and the same was true in the shuttle’s back compartment.

Her gaze left his as she took the opportunity to examine the rest of him; his hair was also brown, the soft waves matted a little from the helmet, and his facial hair was neatly trimmed, the hair above his lip a little thicker than the rest of it. His brow and nose were prominent, but his jawline had more of a curve to it, and the last thing she looked at were his lips; they were chapped and his bottom lip was more plump than the top, something that she’d noticed whenever they’d kissed in the dark on the Razor Crest. As she watched, his lips parted and when her eyes flicked back up to his, he was closely watching her with nervousness written across his features. Smiling, (Y/N) rested a hand against the soft skin and stubble of his cheek as she brought his hand up to her lips, kissing each knuckle before finally speaking. “Mesh’la.”

Din released a shuddering breath as his eyes darted over her face. “You…?”

“That’s Mando’a for ‘beautiful,’ right? Oh Maker, I didn’t say an insult by accident or anything, did I?” (Y/N) rambled, her panic beginning to rise as Din remained silent. “Son of a-”

In a flash, Din’s lips were on hers and he was kissing her with an unrelenting passion as his arms held her close. (Y/N) got over her initial shock and began kissing him back, her hands moving up to his hair and carding through the thick locks; Din moaned as her fingernails lightly scraped against his scalp and before she registered what was happening, he was hoisting her up into his arms and stumbling backwards to sit on the edge of the bunk. She was straddling his thighs and their bodies were flush against one another when they finally broke apart for air, but that didn’t stop Din; while she struggled to catch her breath, he began pressing kisses all over her face and neck, finally pulling away after kissing her lips one final time. He was beaming up at her, his brown eyes bright as his smile widened, and one of his hands came up to caress her cheek.

“I’d ask if you really meant that, but I already know that you do.” Din’s hand trailed down her neck to rest flat against her chest, right above where her heart was. “Because of this. You have the biggest heart, alor’ad, the biggest heart out of everyone I’ve ever met. It’s just…I can’t help but think I don’t deserve the love you’ve given me.”

“That makes two of us, Din.” (Y/N) replied, watching his eyes flutter closed while her fingers brushed the hair away from his forehead. “Sometimes I feel that you’re too good to me.”

Din shook his head, the loving look he gave her when he opened his eyes almost making her cry. “You deserve everything I can give you and more, you and the kid…” At the mention of Grogu, Din’s smile dimmed a little and his hand moved away from her chest to rest against the side of her neck. “(Y/N), if I…if things end up going sideways, I want you to continue our quest. Find a Jedi that will train the kid; you’re the only person I trust to do it.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, (Y/N) nodded. “Of course I will, but don’t forget what you promised me that day in the meadow. ‘Ner cyar’ika alor’ad, I swear on the stars I’ll never leave your side.’” She held his face in between her hands and lowered her head to rest against his. “Please don’t forget that.”

“Never, alor’ad,” Din breathed, pressing feather-light kisses to her lips that managed to soothe her shaky nerves. “I could never.”

They sat there in the shuttle’s back compartment for several more minutes, their arms wrapped tightly around one another as they took solace in each other’s embrace. But their peaceful solitude came to an end when Din suggested they return to the shuttle’s cockpit and with a final kiss, (Y/N) slid off his lap and he put his helmet back on before opening the compartment’s door. That wasn’t a goodbye, she sternly told herself while they walked side-by-side, even if it felt a little like one.

Once back in the cockpit, (Y/N) resumed her seat, methodically checking system functions in preparation for Phase One as Bo-Katan took the co-pilot’s seat beside her. I’m not sure if she can be trusted, she thought to herself, watching the helmet-less Mandalorian out of the corner of her eye; Bo-Katan was hell-bent on finding Moff Gideon and retaking Mandalore, and (Y/N) had an uneasy feeling that she didn’t care who perished in her pursuit for vengeance. Her suspicions were confirmed when Bo-Katan called out, “Moff Gideon is mine. Got it?”

“He’s ex-ISB,” Cara pointed out from behind them. “He’s got a lot of information, I need him alive.”

Bo-Katan merely shrugged. “I don’t care what happens to him as long as he surrenders to me.”

That made (Y/N)’s brow arch but she stayed silent, her hands continuing to fly over the buttons and switches; despite the seriousness of their situation, she couldn’t help but thrill at the opportunity to pilot a ship in a combat situation again. She sensed Din moving to stand directly behind her seat just as Boba Fett’s voice emitted from the communication radio. “Prepare to exit jump space.”

“Copy that,” (Y/N) replied, pressing a blinking button beside her before resting her hand on the shuttle’s main lever. “Get the hell out of there as soon as they clear us to dock.”

Beside her, Bo-Katan smirked to herself. “And your shots have to look convincing.”

(Y/N) heard Din heave an exasperated sigh as Boba chuckled. “Power up those shields, princess. I’ll put on a good show.”

“Watch out for those deck cannons, okay? They’re real pieces of work; I’ve seen them take down X-Wings with a single shot.”

“Don’t worry about me, Captain, I’ll be all right.” Boba reassured her. “Just be careful in there.”

Nodding to herself, (Y/N) gripped the main lever and announced, “Exiting hyperspace in three, two, one…”

She pulled the lever down and returned her hands to the joysticks in front of her as the shuttle exited hyperspace. Moff Gideon’s cruiser loomed ahead of them and her stomach clenched in fury, speculations about what they might’ve done to Grogu unwillingly filling her mind. Giving her head a small shake, she yanked the joysticks to the right and dodged the shots Boba aimed at them before connecting their communication radio to the cruiser. “This is Lambda Shuttle 2743, requesting emergency docking.” She swerved again, making sure that her flying didn’t look too skilled as she continued. “Repeat, requesting emergency docking. We are under attack!”

There was a brief pause before a female Imperial officer responded. “Copy, Lambda Shuttle. Request received. Stay clear of launch tube, deploying fighter squadron.” They watched as the one of the cruiser’s TIE Fighters deployed and with a sideways glance at her co-pilot, (Y/N) flew the shuttle towards the exposed launch tube; she winced a little when they were almost clipped by a second TIE Fighter and the female officer called out, “Request denied! Please clear launch tube until fighters deploy!”

“Negative, negative! We are under attack!” Flipping a switch above her, (Y/N) increased their speed and steered the shuttle towards the launch tube straight ahead. In all her time as a smuggler, she could honestly say that this was the first time she’d ever piloted a speeding shuttle directly into another ship and without a proper landing array; it’s like Ahsoka said, she thought as her forehead began to bead with sweat, good or bad they’re always memorable.

“Clear launch tube immediately!”

(Y/N)’s arms began to shake with the effort of holding the joysticks steady, biting her lip while Bo-Katan activated their landing gear just in time for them to speed into the launch tube. Behind her, Fennec shouted, “Hang on!” and Din’s gloved hands clutched the back of her seat when the shuttle bumped against the sides of the launch tube. (Y/N)’s hands were on autopilot as she flipped switches and slammed buttons and in no time, she succeeded in making the shuttle slide to a complete stop. Her chest heaved and she struggled to catch her breath as the others got up and gathered their weapons, a part of her in absolute disbelief that she’d succeeded in landing them safely inside the cruiser.

“Well, alor’ad, you finally convinced me,” Din remarked, watching as she got to her feet and drew her blaster. “Smugglers are better pilots than bounty hunters.”

That made (Y/N) smile. “I think you meant to say that smugglers are better at everything, not just piloting.”

“Don’t push your luck, mir’sheb,” He jokingly retorted, his gloved hand resting against the small of her back; the two of them made their way over to where the four women were preparing to lower the shuttle’s ramp. “Good luck.”

Cara flashed them both a brief smile. “You too.”

Once the ramp lowered, the four of them stormed out of the shuttle and began taking out the Stormtroopers that had surrounded them. Blaster fire and dying screams rang through the air while (Y/N) and Din waited to exit the shuttle, their free hands holding each other’s tightly until everything was silent once again; (Y/N) looked up at Din just as he turned towards her and gave him a firm nod. “Let’s go and get Grogu back.”

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

A/N: Thank you guys so much for reading!

Mando'a Translations: Cuyir morut’yc, alor’ad-Be safe, captain Alor'ad-Captain Mir’sheb-Smart-ass Mesh’la-Beautiful Ner cyar’ika alor’ad-My darling captain

Chapter Twenty

Taking Care of Business Masterlist

Tagging: @remmysbounty​ @sinon36​ @seninjakitey​ @thatonedindjarinfan​ @ginger-swag-rapunzel​ @mostclevermiss @momc95​ @welcometothepedroverse​ @sarahjkl82-blog​ @zukoyonce​ @itsnottilly​

[iwillsithereandtrytocontribute]

Ready as I’ll Ever Be Part (13/?)

Masterlist Last Next Ao3

Pairings: Logicality, Prinxiety

Warnings: claustrophobia, minor panic attack, blood mention, death mention (the deceased was murdered just so you know), minor character death, mocking grief

Summary: A medieval fantasy au. Roman makes a deal with Deceit that goes sideways. With the castle under enemy control, Thomas captured, a rogue sorcerer on the loose, and some dark secrets Virgil, Patton, and Logan are the only ones with the power to do anything.

As usual, huge thanks to @anotherbisexualbooklover for being such an incredible editor.

That night, the four of them met up by the edge of the clearing that night. Logan and Patton had organized a small task force to form their distraction. Virgil and Joan hadn’t had much to prepare, only themselves. They stared awkwardly at one another before saying goodbye.

“Take care of yourselves,” Virgil said gruffly, trying not to show the fear and apprehension he felt.

“Likewise,” Logan replied, a bit stiffly. “We understand the risks and are prepared for what may come following our capture.”

Joan clapped Logan on the shoulder. “Your bravery is admirable. See you on the flip-side.”

Patton rushed forward suddenly, pulling everyone into a hug. “Stay safe you guys,” he whispered.

“We will. We will,” Virgil said looking down at him. They slowly separated. Logan and Patton watched Virgil and Joan begin their trek through the forest.

“They’ll be alright Patton,” Logan told him, placing a hand on his shoulder. He gently pulled Patton towards the campsite. “We should prepare our volunteers.” Patton nodded and turned to go with Logan, but not before glancing back one more time.

Joan and Virgil made their way to a hill near the city walls. Joan told Virgil to stop before they reached the tunnel so he could open it. Virgil protested, but Joan would not be swayed. He left Virgil on the edge of the forest. Virgil didn’t have long to wait, as Joan reappeared not a minute later. He led Virgil to a grassy knoll against the walls of the city. There stood a dark hole, starkly contrasting with the soft green shadows of the grasses as the sun set.

They walked through the tunnel silently, the only sound came from the scuffling of their feet. Virgil provided the only light in the oppressively dark hole. Virgil glanced at the compact dirt walls as they passed through. He tried staring at the ground and pretending they were outside walking across a dirt road, he still felt completely trapped. No matter where he looked or what he tried to do, Virgil felt the walls closing in on him. His breathing came out raggedly despite the easy walk and he nearly stumbled twice. Virgil’s growing panic was such that he ran into Joan when he stopped.

“Turn around,” Joan told him. Virgil sighed, complying. He resisted the urge to peek behind him as he heard Joan muttering frustratedly under his breath. They entered what seemed to be the king’s tower after a minute or so. Above them, stone stairs wound their way to Thomas’s rooms. They climbed onto a small platform held off the ground by an intricate system of ropes. Joan pulled a lever and the platform rose into the air.

“Magic?” Virgil asked.

Joan shook his head. “Science actually. It’s really quite fascinating-” Joan began.

“Don’t go all Logan on me,” Virgil complained with a smile. Joan returned it stiffly. It didn’t take them long to reach the top. Joan pushed aside a tapestry and leapt off of the lift.

“Virgil!” Thomas called, spotting them. “Joan?” His expression changed from pleasant surprise to relief.

Virgil rushed to Thomas, his own relief clear on his face. He waved his hands, dissolving the chains around Thomas’s wrists. “Thomas, I’m just as happy to see you, but you need to be quiet. Deceit or Roman might hear you,” Virgil warned.

“They already have,” Joan replied. With a flick of his hand, the exits were sealed and Thomas’s arms were chained once more.” Thomas and Virgil were horrified.

“You’re not Joan are you?” Thomas asked after a moment of stunned silence.

“Wow Thomas. I’m so proud of you,” Joan drawled, clapping exaggeratingly slowly. “You’re so… smart.” Virgil stared at Joan, realization dawning on his face.

“Deceit,” Virgil said hollowly, “of all the low tricks.” Joan smirked. There was a flash of yellow light and Deceit appeared in all of his snake-like glory.

“Took you long enough,” Deceit replied. “I mean, I had to actually do magic in front of you for you to realize.”

“What about Joan?” Thomas demanded.

“Oh do use your imagination,” Deceit tsked, shaking his head.

“Are they-” Thomas couldn’t bring himself to finish the sentence. He didn’t have to.

“Do you want me to spell it out for you, Thomas?” Deceit scoffed. “They’re dead. D-E-A-D. Dead. Roman killed them himself.”

“Roman-” Thomas couldn’t speak through his anger and grief.

“I should've known,” Virgil said bitterly. How else would Joan have known about Deceit or the secret passageway he must have opened using magic.

“Yes, you should have. I mean, Logan at least suspected. And you didn’t listen.” Deceit shook his head, smiling.

“What do you want? What are you doing this for?”

“What I’ve always wanted. To live free of this curse.” Deceit strode forward and extended his hand to Virgil. “And I want that for you too.” Some tenderness crept onto Deceit’s face as he gazed at Virgil. Virgil turned away from Deceit’s hand. “Virgil,” Deceit pleaded,” please. I can help you. Help us. Don’t you want to finally be free.” That got Virgil’s attention.

“You figured it out?” Virgil asked. 

Deceit nodded. “I did.”

“I- I won’t kill anyone,” Virgil stammered. Deceit smiled, sensing his victory was near.

“You won’t have to,” Deceit promised sweetly. Like an insect to a venus flytrap, Virgil was ensnared.

“What would I need to do?”

Thomas looked up, tears streaming down his face. “Virgil,” he said hoarsely. “You’re not-” Deceit silenced Thomas with a wave of his hand. 

“Not much,” Deceit said. “I figured out what I was missing.” He pointed at Thomas. “Him. I mean, I had to collect some other things as well, and of course I’ll need some of your and Remy’s blood, but other than that,” he trailed off.

“Blood?”

“Yes. I needed some from all of us.”

“Us?” Virgil began. “Oh. I can’t believe I didn’t realize you set Remus free.”

Deceit rolled his eyes. “Obviously. That doesn’t mean he’ll stay free. He’s a bit,” Deceit scrunched his nose distastefully, “erratic for my tastes.”

“Erratic?” Virgil asked incredulously. “He’s insane! We have to lock him up again before he hurts anyone. We certainly can’t remove the limits on his power.”

“And I’d help you, but alas!” Deceit cried dramatically. It was Virgil’s turn to roll his eyes. “My time’s almost up.” He removed his cloak with a  melodramatic swoosh, dropping it to the ground. All of Virgil’s sarcastic jokes, usually reserved for Roman’s theatrics, died in his throat. Only the right side of Deceit’s face was left uncovered in his shiny green scales.. Virgil softened, pity and concern shone through his stone-faced features.

Virgil furiously weighed the options in his head. Here he was, with the opportunity to fix himself. To save Remy and Deceit from a fate worse than death. And to do so, he had to betray Thomas with the very person he had sworn allegiance to in front of him. “Fine,” Virgil sighed, “I’ll help you.

“Virgil, no! Virgil, you can’t-” Thomas’s voice cut out again. He mouthed the words fruitlessly, his eyes watery and red. Virgil had been Thomas’s final hope against Deceit, the man who had taken everything from him and now another one of his closest friends. Virgil looked at Thomas apologetically.

“I can’t let Remy or even Deceit suffer if I can prevent it. They’re my only family. I’m sorry Thomas,” Virgil said mournfully. He looked away, missing Thomas mouthing “Who’s Remy?”

Deceit let down the barriers and walked to the door, gesturing for Virgil to follow. Virgil looked back to Thomas, but he was resolutely staring everywhere but Virgil. Roman walked up to them as the doors shut. 

“Roman?” Virgil asked hopefully. He searched for any sign of his old friend. There was none. Roman showed no indication that he recognized Virgil.

“We caught some rebels at the gates,” Roman said. Virgil’s face fell. He had completely forgotten about Logan and Patton. And now they were in danger.

Here it is! I hope I fooled some of you! I was a little worried I’d have to ruin it by explaining that the pronoun usage was intentional. If you’d like to be added to my taglist, need me to add warnings, or have questions please send me an ask or message. Stay safe. :)

Taglist:

@probablynothumanish

@dragonleesupporter

@lokiamorstuffs

@emo--nightmaree

[prolificpoisons]

The Price of Prolific Potions

Content Warning: Murder, Blood, Some Gore, Violence

     Jovi, for once, was displaying a modicum of capability. Her trusty drinking flask was set aside, forgotten on a far shelf across the room. Her hands were busied with a small wire rack that she had finally fished from a lower cupboard. The room around her was a space she was intimately familiar with, the alchemy lab that dwelled within Sin’s estate. She had spent many an hour here learning, studying, and honing her practice. While over the last few months Jovi had taken some time off; the time spent caring more for her liquor indulgence, and less for the quality of her work. Though, it was made evident in the last meeting between her and Sin that she was not to fuck this up again. Now was the time for well-planned actions, her capabilities withdrawn from vacation to shine once again. To be lax a second time would surely mean a worse punishment than a stern talking to, and that wasn’t an activity she particularly enjoyed.

     Crystal vials were also accrued, though as Jovi set up the beakers and flasks, the events of the night prior replayed within her mind, that sting of shadow still causing her to grimace and her stomach to ache.

     That -man-. Vile. Disgusting. Greasy, fat, and violent. The woman. The maiden whose sights Jovi’s mind has inhabited. The knife slashing across her throat, and the shower of bloody, arterial spray that had followed. The blackness that had come, lasting only a brief moment in time but leaving that rotting pit in Jovi’s stomach. Lastly, the tome. The tome fading from sight in that protective case, last seen beneath the sheen of the woman’s ruby spray. The tome, that was the purpose, all else was the hindrance.

     “As you can see this isn’t just some smash and grab job, which is why I offered you real money for it, not some pittance.” Sin’s words that followed were far too vivid in imagery, her mind still echoed, Jovi unable to quite root it out just yet. Rather, it motivated her, as she certainly did not want that invasion upon her senses to happen again any time soon. So, Jovi allowed that scene to replay in her mind’s eye, details drank in, and a plan formulated.

     Jovi blinked, her hand flipping a lever and a flame igniting beneath her beaker. In the corner of  the room, incessant whimpering caused her ear to flick and her brows to furrow, concentration corrupted for a fleeting second. For now, the sound was drowned out. Only when the sound of wood scraping upon stone met her ears, did she fire a warning glare to the far corner of the room. “Now, knock it off. Ya jus’ wearin’ me out, mmkay? Sit tight.” With that, back to her concoction.

     Another cupboard was visited, different vials of herbs rifled through until their stock of Azshara’s Veil was acquired. It was a stiff bouquet of the flower, fresh as if picked just the day before. It was laid on a cutting board, Jovi acquiring a knife to begin clean slices of the plant into smaller portions. Promptly after, those pieces were dropped into a mortar, and a pestle was set to work milling the herb to an emulsion. While she worked those flowers into submission, she continued her contemplation on her plans at hand.

    The glimmer of those arcane wards in the man’s personal repository of void collections was a sharp picture. She knew well that there was going to have to be strides made to negate those troublesome runes. Lock picks would be needed simply to gain entry, but before all that, she must be able to blend and mingle amongst those humans, or at the very least, garner as little attention as possible while she gathered information. Thusly, here she was, solving that very problem in particular. The man’s agglomeration of various shadow tainted artifacts was certainly expansive, so -someone- surely knew something of where and how to find him.  

     Those herbs, now well milled, the mortar was lifted, and the contents spilled into a cheesecloth that hung suspended over a large alembic. It was bound and squeezed, those veil flowers being extracted of their essence that trickled down into the flask. The flask was then moved, left in place within a stand that allowed a burner to begin heating the ampulla at it’s base. Slowly, a simmer began, Jovi, in the interim, adding a few touches here and there in the form a pre-processed powders she had aligned at the ready.

     All was coming together, that brew stewing away happily while Jovi kept focused on her measurements and concise stirring. Still, those whispers of muffled fear clawed at her ears from the corner, that wooden scathe on cobbles sounding more urgent than ever. It hardly mattered, as it was time for the final ingredient. Again that knife was picked up, the flame on her mixture lowered to save it from burning that precious pot of brew. Back across the room she went to that very corner she kept aiming her warning and annoyed glances to.

     There, secured to a chair by chains upon wrists, ankles, and waist, was a woman. Some poor soul that had been caught, tricked by Jovilanni the night prior. The woman’s eyes wide with fear, the gag in her mouth stifling any words but merely allowing concerned whimpers to emit weakly from her. Jovi hardly knew this woman, but to some degree, she did. Jovi offered her a half-assed smile of apology, and a simple shrug of her shoulders.

      “Look.. S’nothin’ personal, really. Ya know, gotta do what I gotta do and all that. I gotta admit, I kinda liked not havin’ blood on my hands there for a while, but… Volatile Life’s -real- hard to come by, s’real expensive.. And I would jus’ rather make it myself.” She chuckled, waving her hand with a shake of her head, “Lookit me! Cheap as always, amirigh’?” She paused, leaning in towards that woman, their faces falling level as Jovi’s eyes mirrored her own. The words that then left her lips trailing a concise, toxic venom all their own, “ ‘Course, you’re cheap, too, aren’t you? Stole from me and mine. My friends really. I am sure you thought it a mild offense, but we don’t take to extortion lightly, and frankly, you just fucked with the wrong woman at the wrong time, lady. I hope that last high was -really- worth it. Because, well, like I said, it’s gonna be your last.” Jovi was hardly sympathetic anymore, her tongue clicking as she stood, reaching for a basin that rested on a nearby table. “For what it’s worth, you are saving me -so- much gold, and making my next job -so- much easier! How great is that?!”

     Jovi’s intent was obvious, that bowl cradled in one arm, the knife clenched in the other. There was a swift, horizontal arc of Jovi’s arm, leading that blade to whip the tip of its edge perpendicular to her throat. The blood coursed free, Jovi quickly dropping the blade to wrap her fingers into the hair upon that woman’s head, bowing it down. The bowl was nimbly cradled right in front of that pumping wound, the blood pouring and pooling into the basin, so fresh that it steamed. Jovi stayed there until the blood ran no longer, that bowl having collected quite an  of that heated vital essence. Of course, the woman passed silently, any pleads muffled and uncared for into the gag in her mouth.

     Action, she had to be quick. Jovi moved to a table that lay in another corner of the room, bringing that basin to rest upon concisely drawn alchemical symbols she had lying in wait. There was a dulled metallic clang as the vessel of blood was set to rest, those symbols igniting upon its touch. Three vials were pulled from Jovi’s pocket, tipped in turn to collect to pernicious vapor that coiled up from the pot. Those vials were corked, saving the vile, writhing vapor within.

     Her goal had been achieved, Jovi striding back to that beaker that simmered in wait. Those vials uncorked and tipped, that volatile life pouring to mingle with the previously spawned mixtures. Now that liquid spawned and seemed to live on it’s own over the heat, finishing it’s cook in mere minutes, Jovi pulling the beaker from the flame. A flask akin to the one that usually bared the weight of her liquor was retrieved, the potion carefully dispensed within. Finally, it was done, her illusory cover; a potion of illusion.

     Jovi smiled, leaving the lab to instead seek out her private room in the estate. The woman who made the ultimate sacrifice was left behind, Jovi surely assuming that Alak’lyn would have use for all those fresh parts left over. It was a macabre gift, in her mind, for the one whom had instructed her so well in her practice.

     Once in her secluded abode, the door was shut and locked behind her. Her clothes were shed, and there she stood, that flask of potion in hand her frame bared naked in front of a floor length mirror. This part was always worrisome, if those finer touches of ingredients were off in the slightest, the results would not be ideal. She had brewed this with specific intents; longevity, effectiveness, and, of course, her desired appearance in mind. She mulled it over, staring at herself for a few, final, lingering moments, her fingers rapping anxiously upon the canteen.

     Forgoing any further delay, she drank deep from the vessel, that potion bitter as it swept past her lips and down her gullet, but she forced it. It never tasted good. An ample dose downed, she cringed, feeling it toil in her belly. The flask was settled on a nearby surface, for safekeeping while she suffered what was to come.

     It began at her core, that sun kissed flesh striking white on her chest, her skin shifting to a hue of pearlescent porcelain. Her hair, it was no longer ebony, but a vibrant violet hue. Those emerald pools were snuffed out in lieu of a brilliant sapphire. The illusion took root, Jovi cringing with the changes but riding out the discomfort in muted silence, save her hissed, shallow breaths through clenched teeth.

     Finally, those ripples of change ceased, Jovi opening her eyes to regard her new disguise; a Ren’dorei. She truly looked the part. For one to witness her, she was, for all intents and purposes, an elf of the void. Of course, it was merely an illusion, a trick, and not her true form; though one would be hard pressed to find the seams in her work. The only risk; carefully maintained doses from that flask that was to be her new best friend. She admired herself for a moment, finding the foreign appearance rather satisfying and convincing.

     Her clothes were reapplied, hugging that new frame rather well, as the build hardly differed from her own before. She looked the part, now it was time to play it. She gathered her things, readying for another excursion of time long spent from home. Though, she certainly couldn’t leave without doing Sin a good frighten, after all, she worked hard, and someone, sacrificed much for her to have this appearance; she was going to indulge it. After that, however, the time for play would be over, and work would truly begin. She had a well protected tome to collect, and the process of that, in itself, was surely going to be the true challenge in all this.

     She moved to Sin’s study, her pack over her shoulder and readied to depart. While she waited for him she helped herself to his collection of maps, withdrawing a few that were tailored to her needs: a detailed map of Stormwind, and the forest that lie beyond it. With those atlases gathered, she was as prepared as she could be, save the meager joy of giving Sin a good startle by the stranger that inhabited his study.

[ihaveonlymydreams]

Every now and then I come back to this opening of a story that I wrote some years ago and that I can hopefully return to writing soon now that I’m almost finished dissertating. I don’t really know anything about it except that it’s about a bandit with social anxiety who calls himself Stardust and a wordmage named Emiliana with a smartaleck magic book. I would love some feedback on it! 

Stardust adjusted his white mask with some care, checking his reflection in the perfectly polished surface of the dress saber he never used. He wore it more for the sake of fashion than for combat - a bandit was not a duelist, no matter what popular tales said. What the saber's feelings were, on the loss of dignity incurred by being relegated to the status of a lady's hand mirror, had not occurred either to Stardust or to his winged partner, who chose this moment to snort emphatically and stamp one heavy feathered hoof.

“You wouldn't have me rob the king's skyway without looking my best, would you, Silence?” Stardust protested, tugging the leather straps tight after making sure that the eyebrow ridges overshadowed his eyes, hiding their peculiar shade of blue. The mask fitted to his face as if it had been molded there, leaving only his eyes, mouth, and chin uncovered. The short white stubble on his face and the shaggy white pelt of his hair, combined with the subtle shapes and wrinkles of the mask, gave him the impression of being a good twenty years older than he was.

Silence, true to his name, said nothing, but tossed his pale mane scornfully and whinnied. Little shivers ran across his golden coat as he stretched his wings, nearly knocking Stardust off his feet with a gust of wind.

“Keep your feathers on!” the bandit exclaimed, sheathing his saber. “I'm coming.”

He double checked the pistols in his holsters, adjusted the bandoliers over both shoulders, and fitted both parts of his long rifle into their straps on Silence's saddle. He slipped into the leather harness that strapped around his chest and waist, making certain that the long ropes attaching him to Silence were secure and would bear his weight. Finally, he double-checked the short-barreled derringers in their waterproof sheaths at the top of his thigh-high boots. That bit of tech had cost him a good part of his savings, but it had been worth every cent.

Stardust vaulted easily up onto his companion's back and gathered the reins, taking one last fond look around him as he always did. His nest was the result of fifteen years' work, careful planning and execution, bargaining and haggling, having the right contacts and buying nothing that he and Silence could not carry themselves: soft carpets on the ground, walls of bookshelves, tapestries covering the cave's original stone walls, and gentle glowlamps that drew their power from nothing but the faint gleams of daylight that streamed down during the day, from the one and only entrance high above their heads. Several steel-bound chests held most of his profits, built as solidly as the other few pieces of furniture he had acquired. A hay-strewn nook on the other side of the cave was the only proof of non-human habitation—otherwise the room might have belonged in any of the world's finest castles. Stardust gave a little sigh of satisfaction and imagined the fine carved mantelpiece that he'd had an eye on recently, fitting neatly into the area between his favorite chair and his bed. If his contact had been right about today's transaction, he should have more than enough gold to buy it without having to dip into his emergency funds.

“Let's go make some money,” he told Silence, and slid his feet into the stirrups that connected to the wing harness. A sharp tug down with his heels told the pegasus to rise, and with one powerful downsweep of wings they were airborne, climbing almost vertically towards the narrow crack in the stone high above them. It seemed barely wide enough for Silence's wingspan, but he soared through without so much as brushing the sides of the crevice, then banked to avoid the pines that clung stubbornly to the bare jagged rocks. Weaving deftly through them, he stayed low to the ground until it fell away under them in a sheer cliff and he shot out, like some vast golden bird catching the reflection of the light, into a panorama that never failed to make Stardust catch his breath.

The vast sheer peaks of the Pillars stretched out beneath them, unutterably high and crowned with green, shooting up from the clouds as if some giant's towers, older than the ages, crumbled into disarray, had taken on the patina of nature but somehow had failed to hide their long-forgotten purpose. The rising sun shot out over the mists in rays of diffuse golden light, silhouetting the high narrow shapes, making of the cloud-cover a foaming white sea. Stardust knew that the clouds rarely, if ever, parted, and wondered again how far below them was the real sea—whether he would even be able to see the white tops of its waves, or the undulating shadows of the serpents under its blue skin. He knew they were too high for birds or wyverns here, in the thin bracing air that few creatures could breathe easily. He'd had to spend his first profits on a very discrete, very expensive corpmage who had increased his lung capacity and his blood's ability to carry oxygen. Now he could breathe easier in the high altitudes than on the sea level, so it was with some regret that he pointed his toes and gave Silence the signal to dip below the cloud surface.

This was Silence's native environment. In the gray-white world, his plumage almost disappeared, and the pale gold of his coat dimmed nearly to gray without the light to reflect it. Strands of mist swept away from his quiet velvet wings, which made him inaudible as well as invisible. He was little more than a cloud within a cloud, and Stardust, dressed all in white leather, was hardly a shadow on his back.

He didn't attempt to guide his companion's flight, apart from pointing him in the right general direction. Fingers of rock rose as pale shadows within the mist almost as they passed, and Silence banked between them as effortlessly as if he could see, his chest rising and falling under Stardust's knees as he sent out his inaudible calls. His ears flicked back and forth in a constant pattern, catching the echoes that bounced back to him, alerting him of obstacles ahead.

Stardust timed a half hour on his silver pocket watch and waited until he knew they had emerged from the wildest section of the Pillars. The peaks that rose on the outskirts were shorter, more suitable to human habitation, and the skies above them tended to be clearer. He pulled his telescope from a pocket—another expensive techmage modification—and sighted through it, lowering the lever on the side that activated the long-range sonar. After a noticeable pause, the shadowy image of a castle resolved to his right. They had come out nearly where he had predicted, over the skyroute that led from Castle Condor, on his right, to the more densely populated city of Tristan's Peak, about half a day's flight to the south. Few people traveled here, Castle Condor not being the most hospitable of locations due to the cold northern seas that surrounded it and the thick stone walls that protected it against the long winters. But it was a good place to store your treasure, if you wanted it safe from prying eyes and greedy hands. Stardust had never stormed the castle, and he did not mean to do so now. Skyway robbery was his game.

They shadowed the skyroute from above, barely out of sight in the cloud-cover, until Stardust caught the shadowy image of a carriage coming towards them.

“At last, praise the six wings of the archangel,” he muttered in Silence's ear. “I was starting to get cold up here.”

Silence snorted softly and plunged forward and up. They banked sharply and dropped down through the clouds, coming out silent and and precise behind the carriage.

At first Stardust was convinced he had the wrong travelers. A v-wing of merely five wyverns carried the square vehicle beneath them, their powerful muscular bodies barely straining at the weight suspended by powerful steel cords. There were no outriders, only one driver perched on the head wyvern. Stardust sighed, flipped the lever on his telescope back up, and peered through it at the insignia on the driver's livery: a condor in flight, surmounted by two stars.

“Well, this is the right one, after all,” he told Silence. “Maybe they think to disarm suspicion by transporting the treasure this way. Fools,” he judged, and leaned forward, unhooking his long rifle from beside his legs and fitting the parts together as he pointed his toes down.

Silence flapped his great wings once and then glided swiftly down, pulling back with quick but quiet wingstrokes just before dropping into the empty space inside the v-wing. The wyverns shied away, all but the first, whose rider went stiff as the barrel of Stardust's rifle touched the back of his neck.

“Pull out your weapons and drop them, if you don't want a bullet in your neck,” Stardust warned in a low growl.

The unfortunate man nodded frantically and pulled out his regulation shotgun, tossing it down. It fell a long way, and the splash was both invisible and inaudible. He gulped.

“If you try anything at all, my pegasus will pick you off your wyvern and send you down to join it, understand?” Stardust growled. The driver nodded again, putting his open hands up in the air. He didn't move a muscle when Stardust removed the rifle and slung it loosely by the saddle.

“I'll be back,” he told Silence, and launched himself off into the open air, his gloved hands sliding over the ropes that smoothly unspooled from the saddle. His aim was precise—a few feet directly above the carriage, his hands closed over the ropes. He twisted upward, executing a perfect flip before landing on both feet, knees slightly bent.

The carriage was large enough to hold several of him. A quick glance over the side showed him a simple windowed door, unlocked. Stardust paused for a moment—something was not right—but he had no time to wait and no choice but to continue. He swung down on one rope, twisted the handle, and swung into the carriage as the door opened.

He was greeted by a very female gasp.

Oh, not a person! was Stardust's first thought, followed quickly by, a woman?

He looked around him. He was standing in a passenger carriage, clearly built for comfort, with two plush seats, built into beautiful wooden cabinets for storing luggage, with clear glass windows on all four sides, and even patterned carpet on the floor. One of the seats was empty. The other contained a woman of indeterminate age, with untidily braided dark hair that was escaping in wild curls in all directions, and a pair of keen gray eyes enhanced by large spectacles. Those eyes were currently examining him, with a great deal of curiosity and very little fear.

“Are you a bandit?” she asked.

Obviously, lady, Stardust said inside his head. Why else would I be wearing a mask and dropping from the sky?

Outwardly, he choked slightly on the beginning of a word, gave it up as a bad job, and drew one of his pistols with a sigh. He hated holding people up, if only because it was human interaction, of a kind, and their eyes always made him self-conscious.

“T - Treasure,” he managed to say without stumbling too much over the word, and waved his pistol gently in her direction, trying not to meet her eyes.

“Surely you don't intend to threaten me with an uncocked pistol?” she asked, folding her hands primly over the book in her lap.

Stardust groaned inwardly. Now you decide to be perceptive. He cocked the pistol a little more aggressively than necessary, and pointed it in her general direction again.

“I'm sorry to have to say this, after you've gone to all the trouble,” said his irritatingly calm victim, “but I don't actually have any treasure. Other than a few books, some second-rate gowns, and myself, you're not going to find anything in here. You're welcome to search if you don't believe me.”

He was forced to meet her eyes. She looked completely harmless, and more to the point, entirely sincere—with a piercingly direct gaze that reminded him forcibly of an owl. On a sudden impulse, he uncocked the pistol again, holstered it, and then reached out to pull the too-large spectacles off her nose. She squinted, her eyes growing vague, and her face came into focus—a fairly young woman, too old to be marriageable but too young to be a spinster. Not exceptionally pretty, with a slightly crooked nose and a too-square chin, but her mouth was well-shaped. Something in her looks nagged at him, like the ghost of a memory trying to resurface, but he couldn't grasp it.

Then he heard the high-pitched scream of the gryphons, and his eyes shifted to the window behind her. There they were, mere dots in the sky, but he knew from experience that they would take minutes to arrive. He turned to look beside him, behind him—they were coming from all directions.

Either someone had set him up, or this girl was far more valuable than she seemed. He dropped the spectacles, fumbled for his telescope, and almost lost it out of the open door he had entered. Yes, he could see their livery—no bandits these, but King's Riders, in the flashy scarlet and gold that stood out against blue sky for all to see.

Stardust whistled for Silence and began to curse, quietly and fluently, as he put the telescope back into its pouch. He consigned his contact, the King's Riders, and the inhabitant of the carriage to the lords of every one of the seven flaming hells and their torturers. There must have been at least fifteen gryphons—a full wing. Why?

Silence swooped down past the door, and Stardust flung himself after, catching the saddle as the pegasus swung upward and began to climb. The sudden movement shook loose his rifle, and he cursed again as it fell past him into oblivion. There went the only chance he had of picking off the enemy before they closed on him. His feet couldn't find the stirrups, but that hardly mattered now—both of them had trained for this particular, if unlikely, eventuality, and Silence would simply do what any pegasus might, confronted by gryphons: climb. His huge wingbeats felt slow, too slow, as the Riders began to close in and up, stretched almost flat on their mounts. If there had been less of them, Stardust might have chosen to fight—gryphons were lighter-boned and frailer than pegasi, and their beaks and talons would make little immediate impression on Silence's tough hide—but in a flock, they were deadly because of their speed. Only one hope—to fly out of their altitude range and lose them in the cloud-cover.

“Climb, Silence,” Stardust entreated, and began to pray rather than curse. Surely at least one of the seven archangels would be willing to help him!

Then the Riders came into shooting range. He could almost reach up and touch the cloud-cover when the first shot hit him in the right shoulder. Long-range rifles were tricky to use in flight; they must have reached their highest altitude and stopped to hover in place.

“Almost there, boy,” he whispered, trying to ignore the pain and the blood that was beginning to ooze out onto his white coat.

Silence faltered, his left wing suddenly blooming red. For the space of a long wingbeat he held his course; then the wing crumpled, hanging useless. One of the Riders, either too lucky or too skilled, had shattered the joint with a single shot. Silence fell, twisting under Stardust as he corkscrewed, beating his one good wing in vain. The gryphons waited, circling. They'd swoop in and pluck him off as they fell, leaving the pegasus to strike the water too far below.

Stardust gritted his teeth. “Dive!” he barked, pulling himself up. As Silence obeyed, pulling in his wings and dropping like a stone, the bandit leaped off the saddle, his feet springboarding off the pegasus' back. He rose straight in the air, ropes unfurling beneath him as he pulled his pistols and cocked them in one smooth movement. They were close enough now, and they hadn't expected an attack. He shot two of them off their mounts, recocked, and shot again. They swooped in to grab him, regardless of the casualties, but the ropes had run their course, and he was jerked swiftly and painfully down. The empty talons closed over his head.

He had no time—the air was getting choked out of him as he was dragged down by Silence's swift descent, but he shot again and again. Six shots per pistol, and every one of them counted. The gryphons were scattering, disorganized, trying to save their riders, when he finally dropped the guns into their holsters and pulled the ropes on his harness. The parachute blossomed up behind him, and he cried out in sudden pain as he jerked to a stop, the harness around his torso tightening.

For a moment he thought the magic would fail and he would be crushed to a pulp. He had never actually tried carrying Silence before. Although the techmage had assured him the harness would carry well over a thousand pounds, they'd only ever used it for treasure before—and a thousand pounds of treasure was not something that you found every day. Stardust grunted in pain as the reinforced straps pressed into his chest and shoulders, nearly crushing his ribs. But the pressure did not increase—it remained constant, painful but bearably so. He peered down at Silence, hanging twenty yards below him, saw his good wing move, and breathed a careful sigh of relief. The other half of the harness had held too.

The parachute's open canopy obscured his view of the sky, though here and there gryphons were darting off, some with double loads, others riderless. Just in case, Stardust pulled one pistol out and started to reload it, ignoring the hot pain in his shoulder. There had to be some Riders left unwounded, and they were notoriously persistent, just like their fierce mounts. He knew he was right when he heard the whizz of a bullet over his head.

“Where are you?” he muttered, craning his neck. He felt singularly helpless, floating in the air with a thousand-pound weight hanging under him. If the Rider was smart, he'd be keeping his position behind Stardust's back and trying to pick him off with the rifle.

A second bullet struck him in the left leg, below the knee. He was right—the shot came from behind him. The next one would probably strike much closer to his heart. If only he could see behind him—then he almost laughed. The little-used saber came swiftly out of his sheath, and with a quick twist of his bleeding arm he found the enemy's reflection. The Rider was closing in, waiting until he was within pistol range, rather than waste a long shot on what he believed to be a helpless man. Stardust waited a long moment, until the saber showed him the rifle moving down, taking aim.

Then with one swift movement of his left hand, he flipped the pistol's muzzle over his shoulder and fired. The saber showed him the Rider as he slumped backwards over the saddle, dropping the rifle from lifeless fingers. The gryphon screamed, a sharp, defiant sound, and Stardust fired again, hating himself for it but knowing there was little choice. Most gryphons attacked in packs, but they would attack singly if the prey was helpless; he had to prove himself capable of fighting back. The gryphon screamed again, but this time in pain.

A moment later the sky was clear. He had to check in all directions, but no one seemed to be following him any longer. Stardust sheathed his sword, holstered his pistol, and breathed a short prayer of thanks to whichever archangel had decided to protect him. The wind changed, and below them the blue sea grew closer and closer, dotted with tiny islands. Now they had only to survive falling in the water and being attacked by sea-serpents.

Life is good, Stardust reminded himself. We're going to stay alive.

[charity-angel]

Brothers (13/?)

[Part 1]   [Part 12]

[Read on AO3]

Still on sucky app, still can't do a cut - sorry for another long post :(

Previously:

Jedi Knight Obi-Wan Kenobi realised that young Padawan Anakin Skywalker was destined to be trained by him rather than injured Jedi Master Qui-Gon Jinn. Meanwhile, Senior Padawan Siri Tachi, a good friend and former paramour of Obi-Wan’s, left the Jedi Order.

The entire Temple was talking about Siri’s departure - none more so than Obi-Wan’s age-mates. While Siri was a couple of years younger than them, she had been closer to them in sheer talent than her own clan and they had adopted her in short order, rather liked Tooka Clan had adopted Anakin as one of their own despite his status as a padawan rather than an initiate. Not one of their friends seemed to know exactly what had happened - she hadn’t confided in anyone.

That in itself wasn’t surprising - Siri Tachi was not a generally an overtly emotional person and didn’t like to appear weak to anyone - least of all her older friends. But when she was genuinely struggling she usually came to one of them for advice, or to Quinlan Vos, because he wouldn’t laugh at her either.

(Okay, he probably would laugh, because he’s one of those people, but then he’d help her fix it with no actual judgement and potentially an extreme amount of prejudice depending on the situation.)

They were most surprised that she hadn’t said anything to Obi-Wan, given how close the two of them were.

“I’ve been so wrapped up with everything else,” he said in horror. “What if I missed something? Is this my fault?”

Garen smacked him around the back of the head for that, which apparently saved Quin from doing so if his raised hand was anything to go by.

“You are not responsible for anyone other than yourself and that baby padawan of yours,” Quin told him firmly. “And I know you tried to talk to her more than once. If she didn’t speak to you, or us, that’s her fault, not yours.”

He knew that was true - he did - but it didn’t make him feel any better. And he couldn’t help the feeling that he was still missing something about the whole scenario

.oOo.

The Council accepted the change in Anakin’s official master with a lot less fuss than Obi-Wan had expected. A cynical person might even have inferred that they too had expected this to happen sooner or later. The only stipulation was that Qui-Gon continue to support them, as any master would for their first grand-padawans anyway.

Not a word was spoken about the fan fiction - maybe no-one had brought it to their attention? Obi-Wan knew there was no way he or Garen would, but the Council tended to have ways of knowing things anyway.

The quartermaster summarily issued him and Anakin with appropriate lodgings but, by mutual agreement, they decided not to change how things were for the time being. Qui-Gon still needed help, and that would be more forthcoming if Anakin was right there and able to call Obi-Wan rather than them waiting for Qui-Gon to get over his innate stubbornness and call them far later than he ought to have done.

As time went on and Obi-Wan became more assured that he was on the right track with Anakin’s training, Qui-Gon began doing some new research of his own. Using data feeds and Quinlan Vos as his eyes on the ground, he was trying to piece together where Masters Dooku and Sifo-Dyas had disappeared off to. There was suspiciously little in terms of actual news, and Jedi did tend to stir up the news feeds unless they were undercover, and Quin himself was limited to only short excursions to the Outer Rim, given that he had a young padawan of his own to care for.

Before he could decide to do something rash, an invitation was extended to the three of them.

“It can’t have been that long, can it?”

Qui-Gon raised a sardonic eyebrow. “It certainly feels like it from my perspective. This has been a very long ten months.”

The Queen of Naboo was hosting a celebration of the liberation of Theed, and a commemoration of those who gave their lives to ensure that Naboo remained a free world under its own sovereignty. Naturally, she had extended invitations to the three Jedi heroes of the day, and the way that Anakin was bouncing on his toes made it really difficult to be able to say anything other than ‘yes’. Not that Obi-Wan was inclined to: as Garen pointed out, they would be in a prime position to do some snooping on the Palpatine's front.

The flip-side of that particular credit chit was that the man himself was more than likely going to be in attendance. It would seem something of a snub were he not to be invited, Shmi explained later that evening when she commed, but they would all keep a close eye on Anakin to make sure he didn’t come to any harm during the festivities.

Shmi Skywalker was positively flourishing at the palace, and was using her skills at organising people and reading rooms to great use as an event planner for the royal retinue. Skills earned in slavery were skills nevertheless, and Shmi knew how to cater for multiple species courtesy of her unfortunate life, and the best ways to keep those species from killing each other.

Obi-Wan found himself wishing she were a Jedi, because that would be very handy in the field. Republic politics and etiquette lessons only went so far, after all.

Something must have shown on his face, because Shmi laughed. “Maybe I’ll have time to teach you some of the things I have learned while you are here,” she offered graciously. “It seems only fair, since you are teaching my son the ways of the Jedi.”

Obi-Wan inclined his head graciously to her. “And in turn, I shall teach Anakin so that perhaps his horrible lack of diplomacy skills will not get him killed before he is even knighted.”

She shook her head. “He knows better. Maybe he has become overconfident in his freedom?”

That was something that hadn’t occurred to Obi-Wan: Anakin certainly wasn’t likely to start a war with his lack of diplomacy, but ending one wasn’t within his capacity either. That ability to read people should be something he was capable of, given his background; it was a game that any slave with any intelligence could play because they needed to in order to survive. Why had Anakin lost that skill?

Perhaps he was worrying overly - Anakin was more than young enough to relearn anything he had forgotten, and his enthusiastic honesty was something that most people tended to find charming.

Maybe that was all it was - Anakin was enjoying being able to speak from the heart rather than having to choose his words carefully. And that was a small freedom that Obi-Wan was loath to take away from him. It had been less than a year since Anakin had been freed, and he was still only a little boy really, for all that he was already a padawan.

And perhaps that was something else that Obi-Wan should address - the initiates the same age as Anakin would be doing their training in their clan groups rather than one-on-one as Anakin was. Maybe some social interaction outside of the classroom with his age-mates would benefit him too? Particularly as he was no longer lagging behind in his agility or lightsabre skills: he should be able to keep up with them easily, and it might help his confidence if he were able to see that he was now on par with his friends.

And if that interaction might just possibly involve a way to push a certain, self-assured initiate at Garen, than that would just be a bonus

.oOo.

In the end, it was lightsabre combat that ended up being the shared lesson - their clan master, Kayln Amala, felt that having a Jar’Kai user in the mix would introduce an interesting element to Tooka Clan’s training. Obi-Wan thanked the Force profusely for smiling upon his devious plans.

Anakin and Zana paired themselves off naturally, which brought her to Garen’s attention sooner as she frowned at Anakin’s second blade.

“Okay, I get it in katas,” she said, glancing over at the pair of observing knights, “but how do I defend myself in a proper spar if I only have one lightsabre?”

“You need to make sure you know where both of Anakin’s blades are at any one time,” Obi-Wan said. “It sounds difficult - and it is - but it is not impossible. Here” and he raised his voice so that the whole class could hear, “why don’t you watch Master Muln and I spar first?”

“You’re enjoying this,” Garen muttered as he levered himself to his feet.

Obi-Wan arranged his face into his favourite diplomacy mask, projecting innocence, as they moved into position opposite each other.

Obi-Wan enjoyed sparring with Garen - it was a true test of his skills to keep up with the second blade, and Garen, while not going too quickly at first so as to demonstrate to the initiates, was not going easy on him. Distantly, he could hear that the younglings’ clan master was talking to them, pointing out things they may have missed, but the spar was taking his full focus.

Garen was good. It had been so long since they had sparred together properly that he’d forgotten just how much Garen had picked up from his master. And, as they picked up speed, he got sneaker with that second blade too - unlike some dual-wielders who made the mistake of using their second blade in tandem with the first because they lacked the strength to counter a two-handed strike, Garen had sheer size on his side and could use the shoto as it was meant to be - as a second offensive weapon.

They were both breathing hard by the time Garen tagged him out and Obi-Wan bowed gracefully.

“That was awesome!” Anakin told them both, grinning from ear to ear.

“Totally was,” Zana agreed, eyeballing Anakin. “Now I know how to kick your scrawny human butt, Ani.”

“Do we get to try two blades?” Zisk Sei’lya, one of the Bothan twins, asked before Master Amala could scold Zana for her undecorous behaviour. Not that it would make that much of a difference - Obi-Wan recalled plenty of behaviour unbefitting of Jedi in the crèche.

Garen grinned. “You certainly do - we have some training blades for you to practice with after you’ve competed this sparring session.”

.oOo.

Zana didn’t beat Anakin, but it was a near thing: there were at least two instances where she would have had him if she had been a little more underhanded, a little less confined by the niceties of crèche spars. It was unexpected of her not to cheat, Obi-Wan thought.

The Bothan twins had both shown aptitude with a second blade although neither had been sure about adopting it full time. Zana had taken to it much like she did with everything else Obi-Wan had seen - with enough determination to succeed no matter what.

“I know what you’re up to,” Garen grumbled as they collected up the training weapons to return them to storage.

“Up to?”

“It’s not going to work, showing off all the shiny initiates.”

“I have no idea what you mean - I just want Anakin to be able to spend some time with his friends while he still can. You remember what it was like once we were all apprenticed? We didn’t see each other for nearly two years! And even if I was trying to set you up, you need someone older - someone who’ll stand up to you and tell you when you’re being ridiculous.”

The fact that Zana Rar was already capable of that was completely beside the point, for the purposes of this conversation at least. She would be Garen’s padawan soon enough: he had been watching her far too much throughout the session for it not to be guaranteed.

[rawrmeansmemes]

DISNEY QUOTES MEME

send a   🏰  and I’ll generate a number, 1-166 and post the sentence as a starter. 

Ah, yes. Now what are you, and who are you doin' here?

Now, I'm warnin' ya. Don't let nobody or nothin' in the house.

I'm so ashamed of the fuss I made.

A lie keeps growing and growing until it's as plain as the nose on your face.

Well... guess he won't need me anymore. What does an actor want with a conscience, anyway?

You buttered your bread. Now sleep in it!

All we gotta do is build an act. Make ya a star. A headliner! 

Gab, gab, gab. They're always gossipin'.

If you can't say something nice, don't say nothing at all.

You know, just the other day, I was talking to myself about you, and we were wondering what had become of you.

So this is love. So this is what makes life divine. I'm all aglow...

Oh, that clock! Old killjoy. I hear you. "Come on, get up," you say, "Time to start another day."

I can't believe. Not anymore. There's nothing left to believe in. Nothing.

Oh, I wasn't... I mean, I do, but-but don't you think my dress...

Why, it's like a dream. A wonderful dream come true.

Oh, I understand, but... it's more than I ever hoped for.

Read the directions and directly you will be directed in the right direction.

It would be so nice if something would make sense for a change.

Ah, that's just it. If you don't think, then you shouldn't talk.

if I lose my temper, you lose your head! Understand?

Curiosity often leads to trouble.

Better look first, for if one drinks much from a bottle marked "Poison", it's almost certain to disagree with you sooner or later.

Of course not. This is an unbirthday party.

Mustard! Yes, mu- MUSTARD? Don't let's be silly! Lemon, that's different...

Of all the silly nonsense, this is the stupidest tea party I've ever been to in all my life.

Goodness gracious, whatever shall we do?

It's... It's just that I never thought about it before. Say, that's it! You think of a wonderful thought.

Don't you understand, _____? You mean more to me than anything in this whole world!

Just a cute little bundle... of trouble!

You know, sometimes I don't think she's really very happy.

Well, I'm really not supposed to speak to strangers, but we've met before.

Well, *that* would make me happy.

But don't you remember? We've met before.

I'm awfully sorry. I didn't mean to frighten you.

Oh... I just love happy endings.

I'm so hungry I could eat  a whole elephant.

You idiots! You fools! You imbeciles!

I'm not sleepy. I'm hungry.

I'd like to tear his gizzard out.

Sounds like someone's sick. How lovely. I do hope it's serious. Something dreadful.

When he stays out all night, he's always grumpy the next morning.

This will take brains, not brawn.

I was just wonderin', are we good guys or bad guys? You know, I mean, uh? Our robbin' the rich to feed the poor.

Rob? Tsk tsk tsk. That's a naughty word. We never rob. We just sort of borrow a bit from those who can afford it.

Oh, he's so handsome, just like his reward posters.

Wowee! I'm tip-top, alright, but I'm not as good as he is.

Look, why don't you stop moonin' and mopin' around? - Just - Just marry the girl.

Ladies don't start fights, but they can finish them!

Why, your eyes are like sapphires sparkling so bright. They make the morning radiant and light.

Wait a minute. I'm the leader! I'm the one that says when we go.

You FORCE them to like you, idiot!

You get down there and find the big diamond, or you will never see the teddy a - gain!

We're still friends, right?

Don't worry, old fellow. It's not *entirely* hopeless.

There's no evil scheme he wouldn't concoct! No depravity he wouldn't commit.

Now, you will remember to smile for the camera, won't you? Say "Cheese".

I'm afraid that you've gone and upset me. You know what happens when someone upsets me.

Hey, man, if this is torture, chain me to the wall.

Isn't it rather dangerous to use ones entire vocabulary in a single sentence?

Hey, man, you're ugly! And you're uglier than him! And you're Ugly, Part Three! Hey, you're Revenge of the Ugly!

Ooh, I think she likes me, man!

Hm. Teenagers. They think they know everything. You give them an inch, they swim all over you.

My nerves are shot. This is a catastrophe!

Have I ever been wrong? I mean when it's important!

I just don't see how a world that makes such wonderful things could be bad.

You'll have your looks. Your pretty face and don't underestimate the importance of "body language." Ha!

This has got to be, without a doubt, the single most humiliating day of my life!

I didn't make it all the way through third grade for nothing.

Well, there's the usual things. Flowers, chocolates, promises you don't intend to keep.

How can you read this? There's no pictures!

This is yet another example of the late neoclassic Baroque period. And, as I always say, "If it's not Baroque, don't fix it!".

Oh dear. That didn't go very well at all, did it?

Couldn't keep quiet, could we? Just had to invite him to stay, didn't we?

I'd like to thank you all for coming to my wedding. But first I'd better go in there and uh, propose to the girl!

All right, Sparky, here's the deal. If you wanna court the little lady, you gotta be a straight shooter. Do ya got it?

No, really. On a scale of one to ten, you are an eleven.

How many cups of sugar does it take to get to the moon?

Arrrgh! This is the *stupidest* vacation! You drag me from home, jam me into this dumb car, drive me a million miles away to see some stupid rat show!

Oh yes, the past can hurt. But from the way I see it, you can either run from it, or... learn from it.

I'm surrounded by idiots...

I laugh in the face of danger

Being brave doesn’t mean you go looking for trouble

For what? This? I've gotten out of worse scrapes than this. Can't think of anything right now, but.

I'd rather die tomorrow than live a hundred years without knowing you.

Is this bottomless pit a friend of yours?

You are a sad, strange little man, and you have my pity.

You uncultured swine! What're you lookin' at, ya hockey puck?

I've set my laser from stun to kill.

Oh, great. If anyone attacks we can blink em' to death.

Candlelight, privacy, music. Can't think of a better place for hand-to-hand combat.

Speaking of trouble, we should have run into some by now.

Why is it, whenever we meet, I end up bleeding?

You leave town for a couple of decades and they change everything.

I'm a damsel, I'm in distress, I can handle this. Have a nice day.

You know, wh-when I was a kid, I-I would have given anything to be exactly like everybody else.

Fabulous party. You know, I haven't seen this much love in a room since Narcissus discovered himself.

Would you like to stay forever?

My little baby, off to destroy people.

Ooh, I think my bunny slippers just ran for cover. Come on, scare me, girl!

They popped out of the snow, like daisies!

First rule of leadership: Everything is your fault.

You listen to me, my boy. I've made a living out of being a failure, and you, sir, are not a failure.

Do I look stupid to you? 

I was saved! I was saved by a flying wild man in a loincloth.

Are you sure this water's sanitary? It looks questionable to me!

Um, okay, but it won't be the same coming from me.

But I don't wanna use my head!

I may not be a smart dog, but I know what roadkill is.

Don't tell me. We're about to go over a huge waterfall.

It's called a "cruel irony", like my dependence on you.

Why do we even *have* that lever?

Break it down? Are ya kidding me? This is hand-carved mahogany.

That is the last time we take directions from a squirrel.

Oh, he's doing his own theme music? Big, dumb and tone deaf. 

Is there anything on this menu that is not swimming in gravy?

We done a lot of things we're not proud of. Robbing graves, eh, plundering tombs, double parking. But, nobody got hurt. Well, maybe somebody got hurt, but nobody we knew.

Hey, look, I made a bridge. It only took me like, what? Ten seconds? Eleven, tops.

Well, as far as me goes, I just like to blow things up.

C'mon, fight that plaque! Fight that plaque! Scary monsters don't have plaque!'

Now, put that thing back where it came from, or so help me...!

Ha, ha, ha. You've been jealous of my good looks since the fourth grade, pal.

You know, like on the street, with the honk-honk and the vroom-vroom, and the no walking involved?

Ohana means family. Family means nobody gets left behind, or forgotten.

My friends need to be punished.

Leave me alone to diiieee...

This is you, and this is your badness level. It's unusually high for someone your size.

You'll like it, 'cause it's stinky, LIKE YOU! 

"Oh, look at me, I'm a flippy little dolphin, let me flip for you! Ain't I something?"

Well, you never really know you know, but when they know, you'll know, ya know?

There he is. Ha ha! Come here, loverboy.

I mean, who wants the pressure of being super all the time?

You know?! For a little bit. I feel like the maid: "I just cleaned up this mess! Can we keep it clean for, for 10 minutes?! Please?!"

Now, I'll tell you what we're not gonna do. We're not gonna panic, we're not gonna die.

I never look back, darling. It distracts from the now.

Boy, I'm pretty good at this lawyerin' stuff!

You and me... we're in a club now.

Swear you'll take us there. Cross your heart! Cross it! Cross your heart!

I know this may seem boring, but I think the boring stuff is what I remember the most.

I was hiding under your porch because I love you.

There is no way I am kissing a frog and eating a bug on the same day.

If I can mince, you can dance.

I was beginning to think wishing on stars was just for babies and crazy people...

Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no. This is bad. This is very, very bad. This is really bad'! 

Stay calm. It can probably smell fear.

I've always wanted to go out with a bang!

Yeah, this one we caught sticking his bumper where it didn't belong!

I'm bad, and that's good. I will never be good, and that's not bad. There's no one I'd rather be than me.

I don't wanna be the bad guy anymore.

Well, this place just got interesting.

Tut tut! As your merciful princess, I hereby decree that everyone who was ever mean to me shall be… executed.

They get away with murder! I can never get away with anything!

I'm gonna wipe the floor with that little know-it-all.

Wait, what am I looking at right now? Why are you hanging off the earth like a bat?

I've always wanted a nose! So cute; it's like little baby unicorn!

Oh, look at that. I've been impaled.

On a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain?

Hey, kid? If you're pullin' my leg, I'm gonna eat yours.

I'm doing the happy dance, I'm not wearing any pants!

Crying helps me slow down and obsess over the weight of life's problems.

Well, he was right about one thing; I don't know when to quit!

Never let them see that they get to you.

It's called a hustle, sweetheart.

Life isn't some cartoon musical where you sing a little song and all your insipid dreams magically come true! So let...it...go.

I'm sorry. I gotta blink. How do you hold your eyes open that long?

You trust her. Becky's eating a cup.

When you use a bird to write with, it's called tweeting.

[hostagetakerandhisgirlfriend]

🍍 Yay congrats on the followers! My request is Bellarke + things you said with no space between us

thank you so much!!

blog compliment: we absolutely love both your main and side blogs - really awesome content! and you’re super nice

okay, so this prompt kinda got away from me for several reasons a) i was slightly high on cold medicine as i wrote part of it so i’m really sorry if there are any incoherent parts and b) i have been craving a bellarke au where bellamy’s in mount weather with clarke and the 47, so thank you for giving me an outlet for that particular headcanon! i have a feeling this might become a full-fledged fic at some point because i kept wanting to write more backstory, but until then - i hope you like it!!

want positivity about your blog too?

They were bound to be seen eventually.

It had roughly been ten days since they woke up in thecreepy white quarantine of Mount Weather. Despite the initial uneasiness, thedelinquents had settled in nicely and were enjoying not having to fight fortheir lives every single day, with two exceptions. Bellamy and Clarke hadn’tbought into the whole “live everyday like it’s a Thanksgiving dinner” vibe fora second. They had felt out of place in the dining hall, Bellamy in a dressshirt and Clarke in a nice blouse. Feeling Dante Wallace’s gaze on them duringevery meal had gotten old pretty fast.

After a few unsuccessful attempts at escape, they haddecided to lay low for the time being and try to act like they were gettingaccustomed to their new surroundings. It had been difficult (especially forBellamy), but they had talked to Dante to convince him they wouldn’t try toescape again and spewed some lie about how they had been scared and nervousabout their friends. He’d seemed to buy that, and so they were left to explorethe depths of Mount Weather as inconspicuously as they could manage.

Which brought them to their current predicament.

They had left on a recon mission after dodging Jasper’spleas about having blueberry pancakes together, and were now stuck in a hallwaythey weren’t supposed to be in. The harsh sound of footsteps alerted them to aguard approaching. Clarke and Bellamy looked at each other in panic for asecond. There weren’t really any place they could hide in, except for a tinynook near the corner of the wall. It wouldn’t really cover them from theguard’s view but it could save them some time before they were discovered. Aplan started to form in Bellamy’s mind as he glanced at the nook and back atClarke pointedly. They quickly walked over and Bellamy maneuvered them untilClarke’s back was against the wall and his large frame was covering hercompletely.

Clarke was used to communicating silently with Bellamy atthis point. Following their sort of heart-to-heart after their day trip, theyhad developed a certain understanding of each other that showed itself in thisweird telepathic way.

It had intensified after ending up in Mount Weather, though.The first time they saw each other after waking up had been when they werebeing discharged from quarantine. Clarke remembered relief washing over her asshe realized she hadn’t killed him when she had pulled the lever. They hadlocked eyes across the room for all of two seconds, and proceeded to overpowerthe medical personnel helping them in perfect sync. That escape attempt hadn’tgotten them anywhere, except in Dante’s room for a very ambiguous and creepytalk where they realized they were technically being held captive. Theirconnection had only gotten stronger after that, and now it was like they knewwhat the other was thinking before the thought had even finished forming.

That didn’t stop Clarke from being surprised when Bellamyleaned in close. She could feel his breath on her cheeks. She was suddenlyhyper aware of exactly how close they were standing.

“Do you trust me?” Clarke’s heart beat a little faster athaving Bellamy so close, whispering in her ear. She nodded without hesitating.He leaned back and their eyes met. She could barely hear the guard’s footstepsgetting closer over her thundering pulse.

“I do.” Bellamy’s eyes fluttered for a second and heswallowed. He saw the guard spot them from the corner of his eye.

“I’m sorry this had to happen this way,” he quicklywhispered, and then his lips were on hers. One of his hands was on the wallabove her head, the other gently caressing her cheek.

She was so shocked that it took her a few moments torespond. Bellamy grabbed her hand and put it on his waist and pressed his lipsagainst hers as if he was saying “come on,Clarke”.

Clarke caught on to Bellamy’s plan quickly after that andresponded to his kiss. As the initial shock wore off, she finally realized she was kissing Bellamy Blake. It wasn’tweird or awkward as she thought it might be; instead it felt so – natural. She grabbed his shirt where herhand was resting on his waist and carded her free hand in his curls. She feltBellamy sigh against her lips as her nails brushed against his scalp. One of hishands dropped to her back and pulled her flush against him as they deepened thekiss – and promptly jumped apart when the guard cleared his throat right nextto them.

“This hallway is off limits.” Clarke blinked dazedly atBellamy and bit her lip; her brain still trying to work through I just made out with Bellamy.

Realizing that Clarke wasn’t going to talk anytime soon,Bellamy started explaining.

“We were just trying to find someplace private. We didn’tknow this floor was closed off.” He was holding the back of his neck andavoiding the guard’s eyes, feigning nervousness. 

Finally finding her voice, Clarke piped in, “Yeah, we’rereally sorry. Won’t happen again.”

The guard glanced between them for a moment, then nodded hishead, satisfied. “Yeah, yeah, I know how it is at your age. Just be carefulwhere you wander off to next time.”

The mention of nexttime had Clarke’s stomach flipping in anticipation, but she shook it offand grabbed Bellamy’s hand, pulling him towards the elevator. She quicklymumbled a “thank you” over her shoulder as the elevator doors closed behindthem.

Bellamy kept stealing glances at the mirror in front of themto see her reaction, but she was determined not to show anything. She woulddeal with what this kiss meant after they had gotten their people out of this hellhole.They slowly slipped back into their usual conversation as they left theelevator and went to join their friends.

She had forgotten all about Bellamy’s words just before hekissed her until she was in bed, replaying the events of the day in her mind. I’m sorry this had to happen this way. Didthat mean he had been hoping to kiss her at one point? Had he given thought to how he wanted to kiss her? Just thepossibility of that was enough to keep her awake for a couple more hours,tossing and turning.