#he takes after the ‘if god was real this wouldn’t be my life’ thought process

[gamelost]

very few ppl will ever get to hear matt’s opinion on religion but best believe it’s not favorable

#he takes after the ‘if god was real this wouldn’t be my life’ thought process #𝖒. « 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋? / out. » #he doesn’t give people shit for believing he just. doesn’t

[lees-chaotic-brain]

How would jjk men react to reader being pregnant with quadruplets?

Feat. Gojo, Yuta, Inumaki, Nanami, Megumi, Itadori (all characters are aged up)

Note: I did headcanons for this request because there were so many characters I wanted to include, and it would get a little boring to write the same scenario out in a full fledged fic like seven times. However, if there are one or two that you want me to turn into proper fics lmk!! I had to do research on pregnancy for this bc it's been awhile since my high school health class

CW: pregnancy, implied thoughts of abortion ig, mentions of fear regarding labor, AFAB reader bc, yk, pregnancy, one singular swear word

Word Count: 1.2k

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Gojo

I feel like Gojo would think you were joking at first, and wouldn’t believe you until you got frustrated and he finally realized you were being for real. He would have mixed emotions. On one hand, he was excited to have a big family and a house full of laughter and love. On the other hand, he was afraid, because more babies meant more defenseless mini-people for him to protect.

He had only known that he was going to be a father of quadruplets a few minutes ago, but he already knew that it would destroy him if he ever lost one of them. That he would gladly give his life for them. And then there was the matter of you. He already knew that childbirth was difficult for women, but quadruplets?? Childbirth was something that even he couldn’t protect you from and that terrified him. 

After a serious discussion in which he made sure you were okay with the added risks and you continuously reassured him that this was what you wanted, he settled down and began imagining a future for your family. Until he realized that he would have to share your love with four little gremlins who would surely take after their clingy father. Then it suddenly seemed less appealing.

Yuta

Baby boy would be shooketh. Because he’s sorry please don’t be mad at him and oh you’re not mad at him and the two of you are having quadruplets well technically you are but he’s the dad and oh god what if he’s not good at being a dad and-

You would have to calm him down as he fell into a downward spiral. Once you had properly reassured him, and he had fully absorbed the information he was ecstatic. He has always wanted a big family, and together the two of you were making that dream come true. Cuddling up to you he would thank you for loving him and gifting him with the many kids he had always dreamed of having.

He for sure would be the type to rub your stomach and whisper sweet nothings to the growing babies in your womb, telling them how much daddy loves them and how excited he is to meet them.

He would also start baby-proofing every square inch of your house before you had even started your second trimester.

Inumaki

He would be in shock. Because he put- wait how many??? babies in you. There was no way he heard you right. There was no way that you were pregnant with quadruplets. Because, wait, he didn't sign up for this! Yeah, he wanted tons of kids, but four babies at a time was a lot. And the strain it would have on your body was concerning as well. 

After he stopped opening and closing his mouth as he gaped at you, he managed to organize his thoughts. First he wanted to make sure you even wanted that many kids because, well, it wouldn’t be easy to give birth to or take care of that many. Once you had reassured him that you were, in fact, sure that you wanted to go through with the pregnancy and that you were prepared for whatever the future held for your not-so-little family he took a moment to process his own emotions.

At first he was conflicted. Sure he was excited, but he held his own private reservations. What if something went wrong during labor? What if he wasn’t cut out to be the parent of one kid, let alone four. But as the months sped by and your stomach grew, the anticipation grew, until one day he let go of any and all trepidation and allowed himself to be optimistic.

He also bought tons of matching onesies for the whole family.

Nanami

Ever the responsible adult and caring husband, first he sat you down and had a serious discussion about the pros and cons of having quadruplets, and whether or not the risks were worth it. Deep down he was thrilled, but he wanted to make sure the two of you were on the same page and understood what continuing meant.

Once the two of you had established you were going to see this through, and it was something the two of you wanted his planning would begin. First came the research. He thoroughly educated himself on everything regarding pregnancy, learning everything he needed to do to ensure your comfort and the healthy birth of his children.

Expect a special diet plan that fulfills the needs of you and your unborn children in the healthiest way possible, essential oil massages, weekly check-ups starting your second trimester, vitamin gummies and more.

He also would begin saving up because raising four children would be expensive. Would for sure have a whole financial plan set up and college savings accounts set up for each of his children within a week of his learning.

Megumi

Honestly, he wouldn’t have super strong feelings about it. He wanted to be a dad, but he didn’t care if it was one, four, or one hundred. He just wanted to have kids with you, and beyond that as long as you were happy he was too. 

So when you told him, his only response was asking you what you thought about it. When you told him you were excited, he was excited too. He had wanted to build his own family for as long as he could remember, and you were helping him reach his dream. What more could he ask for? The only other thing that mattered to him was that his children had siblings. As a kid he had resented Tsumiki, but as an adult he couldn’t imagine the loneliness he would have experienced growing up without her. So yeah. If you were happy, and his children would have siblings so they would never have to walk through life alone, he was content.

There was nothing more he wanted in life than your love and a family with you.

Itadori

Kids!!! He had wanted a ton of kids, so this was perfect! You were happy with it, so even better! He sees it as a four-in-one deal, and is over the moon. His golden retriever personality becomes even worse when you’re pregnant. Like, this man is at your side 24/7.

Constantly following you around, looking at you with big pleading eyes as he begs to cuddle in bed with you so he can talk to your stomach.

Oh my god talking to your stomach. This man would talk to your stomach more than he talks to you. Asking what your kids want to be named. Telling your unborn babies about his day. That he loves them and can’t wait to meet them. Describes all the fun things the six of you are going to do once they’re born. Definitely tries cuddling your stomach because he ‘wants to know what it feels like to hold his children.’

Also is a little shit that constantly asks ‘are they coming yet? Why not??’

#lee's brain writes #jjk x reader #jjk x you #inumaki x reader #gojo x reader #yuta x reader #itadori x reader #nanami x reader #megumi x reader #nanami is baby daddy material for real #so responsible #i wrote a whole essay for inunmaki #and even after shortening it i had to make the others longer so that my bias wouldn't show #jjk fluff #jjk crack #jjk fic

[suashii]

— 𝒾 𝓈𝓅𝓎 𝓌𝒾𝓉𝒽 𝓂𝓎 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝑒𝓎𝑒 ౨ৎ

itoshi rin x reader. 1.4k wc. ﾉ sfw ﾉ spy au ﾉ spy!rin ﾉ spy!reader ﾉ rivalry ﾉ reader is quite infatuated with rin ﾉ a lil suggestive if you read between the lines :3

the glitz and glamor of the event you’ve found yourself at is blinding. between the crystal chandeliers and the light glinting off of everyone’s expensive accessories, you doubt that you’re going to find who you’re looking for—though, the thought only lingers for a mere moment.

there’s no way you could ever miss him.

whether it be keenly trained eyes or your personal interest, it doesn’t take your wandering gaze more than a couple of minutes to find your target within the crowd. he’s dressed to blend in with everyone else in black tie attire, slim-fit suit hugging the curve of his waist, highlighting his muscles. and he’s worn his hair just the way you like it, slicked back to expose his forehead, though some stubborn strands have strayed from the rest, turning the neat look into something more casual—sexy.

you watch from afar with a champagne float in hand and silently wonder who he put in so much effort for. saying you know rin well would be a gross overstatement—you’ve only become familiar with him through your missions, although you can confidently say you’ve never witnessed him dressed to the nines. it’s a good look on him.

swallowing the rest of your bubbly, you set the empty glass on a passing tray and look down to check your reflection on the shiny marble floor. as much as you’d love to stand here and observe rin all night, you have work to do.

your task is simple—intercept the handoff of a hard drive containing sensitive information.

you usually wouldn’t take on such a lackluster job but you jumped at the opportunity when rin’s name was mentioned. he’s representing the party meant to be receiving the intel—it’s a shame you’ll have to make his life harder by meddling in his affairs but it’s one part of the job you consider fun, even if it is at his expense.

you’re sure to stay out of his line of sight as you navigate the large ballroom in search of another character involved in the exchange. not much time passes before you spot the man and his presence alone is evidence that you're still on schedule—the handoff hasn’t happened yet.

the carrier is a new face, one you’ve never seen before. if his worrisome, flitting gaze is proof of anything, it’s that he’s never done this before. the fact that his people were dumb (or confident) enough to send an amateur makes you snort. but you won’t complain, after all, they’re making this process a whole lot easier for you.

and once you’ve got that hard drive, that’s when the real fun starts.

you quickly formulate your strategy before setting off to execute it. light steps carry you toward the man and while you're careful not to bump into anyone along the way, you purposefully knock into his shoulder once you finally reach him.

“oh my god, i’m so sorry!” you exclaim, holding onto his wrists with your apology. there’s something hard tucked beneath his right sleeve and you have to stop your lips from pulling up in a smirk. so predictable. “are you okay?”

“uh, yeah, i’m fine.” he seems distracted, like your collision disrupted his train of thought. that’s all the better for you, your deft fingers inching up between the sleeves of his jacket and shirt to snag the thumb drive.

“i’m just so clumsy,” you laugh to punctuate your statement, concealing the stolen item in your fist once you pull away. “well, you enjoy the rest of your night!” 

you slip into the crowd with a bit more urgency than you had before, eager to get the drive where it needs to be and make your exit without any problems.

when the cool air outside the venue meets your face, your mission is over—well, everything official about it, anyway. you’re still waiting on one planned aspect as you mosey around the back of the building and the sound of shoes scraping against pavement alerts you that it—he—is on the way.

you spin around to meet him face to face but as swiftly as you do, the man has you pinned up against the wall. the impact draws out a gasp at first, then a giggle. you didn’t predict that he’d be this rough but you quickly grow comfortable with his forearm against your collarbone.

he smells good, warm like cinnamon. it makes you wonder if he tastes like it, too.

“where do you think you’re going?” he spits out, brows etched together in a frown. it’s an intimidating expression, one you’re sure would have others in your position trembling, but instead of feeling any sense of unease or nervousness, you consider yourself lucky to see this side of him. it’s a far cry from his typical cool and collected exterior and while most would think that a scowl isn’t something you want to be on the receiving end of, the sight is nothing short of alluring to you.

“nowhere,” you tell him, tilting your head to the side and letting a smile take over your face, “i’m right where i want to be.”

his lip twitches in annoyance at that. “you have something i want. hand it over.”

“my heart? aw, rin, it’s already yours~”

he doesn’t seem to appreciate your nonchalance on the matter. “the hard drive. i saw you swipe it, now give it to me.”

“of course you did,” you say with a grin. this little interaction wouldn’t have been possible if you didn’t bank on the fact that rin would be keeping track of his collaborator’s movements. maybe you know him a bit better than you thought you did.

you sigh and meet his glowing teal gaze. “but i don’t have it on me.”

“where? where is it?”

“don’t worry, it’s safe in the hands of my associate.” you’re lucky that rin didn’t see you slip the information to a trusted friend on your way out. “and i’m willing to hand it over, but it’ll come at a price.”

rin’s irritation is palpable but his hold on you eases up as he considers your words. “how much?”

“it’s nothing really.” you roll your shoulders now that there’s a small gap between you and the building—not enough for you to leave, rin made sure of that much. you hold up your index finger. “one date. you and me.”

he scoffs. “you have to be joking.”

“i’m serious,” you tell him, not able to hold back the pout that graces your lips. “take me out to dinner and i’ll make sure those files get back to you without any trouble.”

without any trouble—the two of you must have different ideas on what defines “trouble” because going out on a date with you sounds fairly troublesome to rin. but he knows it’ll be his ass on the line if he turns up at the agency empty-handed. as troublesome as a date with you comes across as, facing a reprimanding sounds even worse.

“tomorrow night.” rin lets his arm fall to his side, freeing you from his cage. 

your hand comes up to touch your collarbone that’s now cold with rin’s absence. you wouldn’t mind having stayed that way a little while longer, though, his reluctant acceptance of your offer leaves you more than content.

getting him to spend a night with you is the real reason you took on this commission to begin with.

“that works for me,” you let rin know with a smile, stepping forward to stuff a card with your contact information into his pocket. tipping your head up to meet his eyes, you offer him one last sentence. “call me and i’ll tell you where to pick me up.”

you wiggle your fingers in a wave as you take your leave, only pulling your phone out when rin’s figure disappears into the night. the device rings upon clicking the contact of your associate. she picks up after two of them.

“hello?”

“hey. is that duplicate drive going to be ready by tomorrow morning?”

the woman snorts. “who do you take me for? it’ll be done in an hour.”

as much as you’re interested in rin, you can’t risk losing your job over romantic feelings. hopefully he won’t mind you having a copy of that information, too.

“good. the boss will have my head if i don’t bring that intel back.”

thanks for giving this a read! consider reblogging or commenting if you enjoyed ‪‪❤︎‬ (perhaps i will write about the date?)

#₊˚ପ⊹ signed: blue lock #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #rin x you #bllk x you #rin drabbles #bllk drabbles #blue lock drabbles

[pyrondeeznutz]

Ticci Toby Headcanons

PT.02

Toby Rogers proxy headcanons. See pre-proxy headcanons here ⬇️

CW: Descriptions of gore, violence, dark themes, abuse.

<NOTE> Once again this is very long cuz I have a lot of thoughts about Tobys character + story. I didn’t go as in depth with his story cuz I dont know if you guys are interested in that. I have his entire life start to finish planned out in my head so just let me know if anyones interested

TICCI TOBY .

For the first four months after the fire, Toby was completely under the influence of The Slenderman.

He was completely dissociated from the world around him. Toby would get an urge, an intrusion, and he would act on it and thats about the amount of control he had

The boy didn’t initially want to kill. He didn’t know what was happening and he felt like he was losing his mind. It was genuinely terrifying not knowing what was real or fake, not knowing why he coughed up blood or felt static in his head

Or why he felt like something was watching him wherever he went

Toby would find shelter in abandoned cabins littered around the forest he frequently ‘came to’ in, crashing at random junkies places, or even sleeping in trees

Slowly over those four months, he found himself losing track of time. He would wake up and days had passed, not knowing where he was or what he did

Sometimes he’d ‘come to’ with blood on his hands. Toby never knew if it was his or not.

He eventually began forgetting many things of his past. They would simply slip his mind. It started with his childhood, then the faces of his family, then the things they did, their voices, his sister, his mother, his father, his actions. It all became a big blur that eventually faded into nothing

Toby was too separated from reality to care or notice. He could barely process the present moment, he was working completely on autopilot almost as if someone or something else was in control. It’s not like He would let Toby dig into his past anyways

This was Tobys life for the first start. But then it got progressively worse as so did his mental state

He was already a sadistic fuck who secretly took pleasure in hurting others (but god knows he wouldn’t have ever admitted that in the past), so when he had his first target, it wasn’t difficult to push him over the edge

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t killed someone before, he knows by the places he had woken up in and the blood on his hands that he’d done some awful things when he wasn’t quite “awake”

He should’ve been freaked out, but Toby knew what he was capable of. And a part of him liked knowing he had that capability to take another persons life without hesitation

UNDERGROUND .

But despite this power, he was sick. He was plagued with Slender Sickness. The parasite burrowed in his mind and his body and now he was a conduit for The Slenderman

The forest Toby usually hid out in was typically called “Slender Forest”, or sometimes just “The Forest”. It was Slender himself. The forest was apart of Slenderman. The roots were his tendrils, the trees were his eyes, the ground was his skin.

The forest existed outside of the bounds of reality and could only be accessed if you were connected to Slender in some way. If you had access to The Slenderman, you had access to the forest

And most people who were like Toby would seek shelter there as it was the best place to hide from civilization and the authorities

The edge of the forest was connected directly to the real world. It was your typical woods with hiking trails, open areas for campers, and was right on the edge of a highway near a lake

The more you go into that forest (if you have initial access to it) the more you’d be entering Slender Forest. It gets darker, colder, the terrain is flat and repetitive

Deeper you go, darker it gets. Toby always felt like he was in a liminal space when he was in that forest, but in the way it feels like being carried to bed from a car ride by your father when you were 4 years old

Eerily familiar and nostalgic, even though there was no way in hell Toby had ever been there before becoming ‘sick’

Over the months Toby would find himself meeting more and more people like himself. Some by chance, some by the metaphorical hands of The Slenderman

This kid was a freak, a weird guy who was just generally uncomfortable to be around. He was unsocialized and an antisocial prick and you could easily tell that there was something fundamentally wrong with him

So no matter who he met, and even if they were just like him, Toby would never really get along with anyone

Toby had bad anger issues and would always pick fights with the others. When he met Hoodie and Masky, two men who were supposedly the same as him, he lost his shit

It caused a lot of problems at the beginning. But it hurt when he went against Slenders orders. It hurt. And to someone not used to feeling pain, it felt like eternal hell when he defied orders

Job after job, murder after murder, all the time lost. They spread the sickness, tied up loose ends, fell victim to the eldritch parasite. The group got to know each other in the most twisted circumstances

PROXY .

There are two types of relationship you could have with The Slenderman

You could be a proxy, a direct pawn for him, a spreader of the sickness, a vessel to allow Slender to interact with reality outside of his forest

Or you could be a Creep, a killer, entity, or person with connections to Slender or proxies but not useful/of interest enough to use as a vessel or pawn

Toby was a proxy. One of the top, the closest to Slender, one of the most used by him. And he was as obedient as he could be

The boy was lazy, but dedicated. He got the job done but he got it done messily and carelessly. Starting forest fires, leaving bodies to be found, letting victims go just for the thrill of chasing them, starting fights with connections, mouthing off, etc

This would piss his ‘coworkers’ right the fuck off because now they’re left to clean up his messes

He didn’t care though. He was hyper, reckless, and he always wanted more. Anything to keep him busy

More murder, more drama, more fights, more jobs, more sickness, more connections. More more more more

As time passed, Masky and Hoodie would beat the boy into shape and he would bite back like a bad dog. But he learnt how to survive the world, and he was crafty

Sometimes they'd go weeks and maybe a month without getting any direction from Slenderman. They were all horribly bored

It was so fucking boring

But after everything he's done, all the shit he's seen, all the people he's killed and convinced to start killing, after everyone hes led into Slendermans trap

There was no way in hell this boy could ever find redemption

This was what he was built for. Toby Rogers burned to ash in that fire, and like a phoenix Slenderman pulled him out and crafted him like clay

Just like he molded Masky and Hoodie

This group was in it together whether they liked it or not

BAD DOG .

Now this kid was a menace. He was a fucked up kid who never really grew out of his conduct issues, he grew into them

A spitting image of his father. Bitter, mean, and alone.

He wasn’t friendly. He was a loud-mouthed, arrogant asshole who said and did whatever he wanted to. He would mercilessly tease and put people down just to be on top, and god forbid anybody hurt his fragile ego

Masky and Hoodie would often beat the shit out of him if he caused problems, even if he couldnt feel it. They knew he hated feeling small, and so when he stepped out of line or did something risky they would do just that

Everybody always made him feel small, and he'd do anything in his power to fight back

He spent so many years of his life not being able to do anything in his childhood. He spent so many years being a victim to those who were bigger than him when he was supposed to be nurtured and cared for

And he was so fucking angry. Toby would take these feelings out on his victims. The sense of power over them was exhilarating. It made him feel alive. For once in his life he made sure that no one would ever fuck with him again, he was finally capable of standing up for himself

Their life was in his hands. He loved chasing them through the forest or hearing them beg for his mercy. He loved the feeling of having the capability to beat someone into submission

He would target people who rejected him or made him feel like a freak just for that powertrip. So his victims were primarily girls at bars who treated him like he was a creep, or people who insulted him on the streets

Toby was a stalker. He would hunt them down and wait for the moment they forgot to lock their door at night or made the mistake of taking a shortcut through an alleyway

The boy wouldn’t let anybody fuck with him like that. He was a bully who pushed people around and hurt them if they went against him

But that was just his victims, he was always just the runt of the group back in his world. He wasn’t smart or mature or wise as those other guys were. He was a reckless idiot who never thought twice and would lose himself to dramatics

And so Toby couldn’t ever really escape the bullying and abuse. He was forever stuck being powerless

This reflected back badly onto his behaviour where he would get more and more reckless and do more risky things just to do more. He needed more. He craved stimulation and was a bit of an adrenaline junkie to a fault

Toby never considered consequences. He was an asshole who said and did whatever he wanted. He didnt give a fuck about boundaries or others feelings, and god knows he never once felt bad for the things he did or said

But while he was just like his father, he had his mothers heart. In another world where he was properly nurtured as a child Toby would’ve been a sweetheart who did good in the world

On the rare occasions where he shut his mouth, you could see this in him. He would sometimes awkwardly sit by people who were having a tough time, not really saying anything but just being there. Or he would give advice in the most annoying, intrusive ways. He always meant well though

But he never let this side show. He was far too paranoid and far too angry to ever be that vulnerable with someone

Toby had a good sense of acting though. He had a knack for theatrics and was very good at putting on a show. He could play a troubled teen, a victim of circumstance. Or he could play a stupid naive idiot who was more like a hyper child than anything.

Sometimes he played into the act so well people would completely forget what he was capable of, and what he’s done, until he got pissed off and starting threatening to hurt them

It was eerie at how well the boy could manipulate people

DIRTY WORK .

At the start, Toby glamorized and idealized his situation and The Slenderman. The strange creature was like a god to him, and Toby wouldn’t ever fight against His commands

But as more time passed and more atrocities were committed, after all the pain and suffering, he began to absolutely hate the life he was given

He began understand all of Brians resentment, all of Tims anger

No matter what he felt about it, there was no getting out. Toby couldn’t die, he couldn’t run, he couldn’t hide. There was absolutely no escaping the sickness

He was always watching

Toby did what he did, and he would forever be a puppet to this thing.

Sometimes he would sit alone in the pews of a Church, not to pray or seek forgiveness, but because in a house of worship and holiness the sickness subdued for a short while

The boy wasn’t built for hope and forgiveness anyways. He couldn’t imagine any sort of future for himself and just took everything day by day, moment by moment

So the next few years of his life was spent crashing in abandoned cabins or Tims apartment, ruining every good thing in his life, patrolling the forest, washing blood off of his hands and losing so much time to Him

And for those next few years, Toby would spend every waking moment wishing he was never saved in that fire

#creepypasta #ticci toby #horror #creepypasta fandom #ticci toby creepypasta #creepypasta writing #creepypasta ticci toby #creepypasta headcanon #ticci toby fanfiction #ticci toby headcanon #ticci toby headcanons #toby rogers #pyrocrpz

[wandering-winchesters]

If this is how I go, it’s worth it.

Dean x injured reader

Word count: 1,926

Trigger Warnings: injury, blood, mention of a firearm.

Summary: reader gets hurt protecting Dean.

A/N: Requests are open! Please send them to me. If you’d like to be added to my tag list, please let me know! Masterlist

I’ve always had a hard time letting people into my life. Introducing them to the real me, the darker side of me that I hide behind a bubbly facade. The childhood that shaped me, something that very few people know about. When I was little there was no one to protect me from the things that I had to live through, the nightmarish situations that I still relive too often in my sleep. In adulthood, I’ve changed the narrative. I’ve become the protector, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to help someone else. Save someone else. Especially those that I love and hold close to my heart.

Sam and Dean have always held a special place in my life. Ever since I met them, on a hunt many years ago. They’d taken me under their wing, Sam willingly, Dean reluctantly. I knew nothing of the supernatural until I was in the wrong place at the wrong time and become the next helpless victim of a nest of vampires. That was until Sam and Dean showed up, just in time.

They knew I didn’t have a great childhood, I’d clued them into that much. However, I would never let them in entirely. It was too much, I didn’t want them to think of me any differently. I’ve seen the way Dean already looks at me after hunts, the annoyance that comes over him when things don’t go the way he wanted. I see the concern that washes over Sam, when I come close to being injured, or when I walk away with cuts and bruises. I don’t need their pity, they don’t need that burden.

Through everything over the years, I began to love them more than I thought possible. Sam like a brother. Dean like an annoying asshole, but also my best friend that I loved with all of my heart, not that I would ever tell him. I couldn’t, he would never feel the same way I was sure of it.

So when I saw that demon smirk and point a gun directly towards Dean’s head, I never hesitated to throw myself onto him and shove him to the ground. My body blocking the path of the bullet, giving Sam enough time to finish the exorcism, the black cloud erupting from the helpless man and fleeing the room.

“What the hell, Y/N. You shouldn’t have done that!” Dean yells, anger etching its way across his face, the concern only evident from the tone of his voice. His eyes searching mine for any sign of pain.

“He was going to kill You Dean.” I grovel, pushing myself off of him, the adrenaline still pumping through my veins. Dean scowls, his hand coming up to his face to wipe some sweat from his brow.

“So what? You were going to sacrifice yourself for me? How much of an idiot are you?”

I roll my eyes at him, pushing off my thighs to stand from the squatting position I had moved into. It wasn’t until I stood fully upright and began to stretch my limbs that the searing pain caught up to me. I press my hand to my abdomen instinctively, trying to dull the pain.

“I’m not an idiot De-“ I stop mid sentence as I bring my hand up to eye level. Red. Dripping , red blood, covers the entirety of my fingers. My eyes dart up from my hand, locking with Sam’s from across the room. He’s staring back at me, shock etched across his face, but beginning to walk towards me.

“That’s debatable- oh my god Y/N, fuck.” Dean starts, his tone changing halfway through his lecture. He takes the two steps necessary to get to me, taking his flannel off in the process. I feel his hands grip my body, one going to my back, the other balling his flannel up and pressing it tightly against the wound in my abdomen.

“Sam, you’ve gotta help me.” Dean pleads, his eyes never leaving my face.

My body starts to feel numb, the adrenaline wearing off and searing pain roaring through every nerve ending in my body. I feel my legs collapse beneath me, Dean quickly compensating for my lack of lower body strength, by pulling me into his embrace.

I laugh bitterly, coughing and choking on what I assume is blood making its way through my lungs and out of my throat.

“If this is how I go De, it’s worth it. I promise you.” I whisper, my eyes locking with his vivid green ones. His eyes. I’d never allowed myself to stare into his eyes for this long, the deep green is enchanting. Pulling me in, the longer I look. I barely even notice my tears beginning to fall, I’m too focused on the way his eyes are beginning to water as he stares back at me.

I can see his lips moving, feel the way he’s shaking me gently, his hand cupping my face. Sam is right next to me too, I feel the floor pressing into my body as they lower me to the ground, in an attempt to slow the bleeding and apply more pressure. None of that matters now. Nothing matters now, my vision is blurring. My eyelids are heavy, so heavy.

“Hey!” Dean’s firm voice breaks through my haze, his hand lightly slapping my face, “don’t do that, Y/N. Don’t close your eyes. You don’t get to die on me, you hear me sweetheart?” I blink rapidly, trying to clear my field of vision. I momentarily succeed, my eyes locking with his again. I can see the absolute panic engraved into every ounce of this man’s face, he’s moving me now. My head falls forward as he places an arm under my shoulders, the other under my knees. He tucks my head against his chest with his chin, pressing a kiss to my sweat soaked hairline. I continue to fight the wave of exhaustion sweeping over me, blinking my eyes trying to keep them open. The last thing I see is Dean, looking down at me pleading for me to stay with him. But slowly, ever so slowly, my eyes fall closed and the world around me goes black

-

Agony.

This must be hell, the amount of pain that I’m in, the only explanation is hell.

A low groan escapes my lips, every inch of my skin is on fire. Muscles and nerves that I didn’t know I had are screaming out in protest as I try to take a full breath. I manage to inhale, immediately turning into a coughing fit as I choke on the air entering my lungs.

“Easy. Slow breaths, sweetheart.” A hand comes to rest on the crown of my head, stroking my hair gently. The touch startling me, causing me to panic and try to brush away the touch.

“Shhhh, it’s okay.” His voice rushes over my senses, calming me, reassuring me.

I force myself to open my eyes, unsure what to expect.

“Dean?” I whisper, finally realizing that he’s here in-front of me. “Am I dead?” My voice barely functioning, my throat dry and hoarse.

“It’s me sweetheart. You’re not dead. I told you I wasn’t going to let you go.” He smiles slightly, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. He holds a cup up to my lips, letting me take small sips, his fingers never leaving my skin.

“I must be dead, the Dean I know is never this nice to me.” I whisper, a small laugh escaping me, which I immediately regret. Relief floods over deans face, the crease in his brow lessens, a small smile reaches his eyes this time.

“That’s not true, idiot.” He says, pressing a kiss to my knuckles.

“That’s more like it, bitch.” I say, squeezing his hand back.

-

The next few weeks pass slowly, I’m never alone for more than five minutes. The boys take turns, keeping me company, changing my bandages, helping me shower, and just all around waiting on me hand and foot. Dean spends every night on the couch, that he had dragged into my room in the bunker. I don’t object, too weak and tired to even dare. I spend a lot of time sleeping, nightmares plaguing my every attempt at resting.

Tonight is one of those nights, I’ve already awoken from a nightmare. Now I lay on my side, gazing at Dean sitting on the couch. His fingers hovering over the keyboard on his laptop, researching some creature that he has refused to tell me about. Any time I have asked, it starts an argument about how the only thing I need to think about right now is recovering.

“I can feel you staring.” He smirks, bringing his eyes to meet my own, the corners of his mouth turning into a smile. He seems older, worry is etched deeper into his face, his eyes not nearly as bright as they used to be. The dark circles under his eyes, accentuated by the terrible late night lighting of my room.

“I can’t help it, you’re just so annoying I can’t not stare.” I mumble, gently pushing myself up on my elbow. Trying to conceal the wince that follows this slight movement.

Dean chuckles, closing his laptop and turning his body to face me.

“Y/N, we need to talk about what happened back there.” He stares, his brow furrowing again. So many emotions sweep across his face at once, I cant read him.

“You can’t do that again. You cant throw yourself into harms way to save me. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to you. What am I saying? Something did happen to you. I already have a hard time looking at you, knowing you almost died to save me. I love you too much, to let you die for me.” He wrings his hands as he speaks, his eyes moving away from mine and focusing on the wooden floor boards beneath his feet.

A silence falls between us for a few moments, his words hanging heavy in the air. My head spinning at his words, I love you too much. Dean Winchester loves me.

“Dean, I don’t think you understand me nearly as well as you think you do. There is nothing you can say or do that would stop me from taking a bullet for you again. I will always do everything in my power to protect you. Protect you in the way that I never had. You would do it for me De, you gotta let me do it for you too.” His eyes are trained on me again, red rimmed and watery. He swipes at them with his fingers, clearing his throat and maintaining eye contact with me once more.

I slide my feet towards the edge of the bed, intent upon going to sit near to him. He stops me with a look and a few mumbled words about how I better not move my ass from my spot or else.

I huff, patting the bed next to me.

“C’mere then, Winchester.” I say, watching his every move as he crosses the distance of the bedroom to sit by my side.

“De-“I rest my head on his shoulder, taking a deep breath and steeling my nerves. He reaches over and intertwines our fingers, his thumb tracing a pattern into the back of my hand. “I love you too, more than I thought possible. I’ll always do anything I can to save you. On this side of hell and the next.”

#deanwinchesterfluff #dean winchester fluff #deanwinchesterxreader #dean winchester fic #supernatural dean #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester angst #dean winchester x injured reader #dean winchester #dean winchester comfort #dean x reader #supernatural #spn #wanderingwinchesters #sam and dean #dean x you #deanwinchesterblurb #sam winchester

[desceros]

sometimes i think about the future symphony "i should have married you" post you made and it makes me so sad but the other night as i was falling asleep i was struck with absolute agony by the awful idea of "i should have married you" because marrying her would have made her hamato and maybe just maybe then she would have been able to become a hamato spirit. and the brothers most likely would have been able to make contact with the hamato sprits like they do in the series. and because if he married her at least he would have been able to contact her spirit. hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh anyways thought i should share hope your day is going fabulously captain desceros

oh, this is awful. allow me to make it even worse :)

we’ve seen in the series that you dont actually have to have the hamato name to be ‘a hamato’ as april demonstrates. we’ve also seen varying levels of. hm. ninj-oscity? ninpo skills? from the boys. like raph and leo doing a ninja mind meld. just. just mikey.

and we’ve always seen that donnie struggles with ninpo the most.

his ninpo is mechanical. when he uses it at its most conscious level, we see it manifest as blueprints coming together. literal pieces, as if constructed with real material. when he panics or doesn’t go through this process, it’s a vague shape that isn’t as strong or as defined in purpose.

so let’s take this scenario you’ve brought to us.

viola-chan would have, unquestionably, been a hamato. and for that reason, i can definitely see her having a hamato spirit.

…..but i dont think donnie would ever be able to communicate with it.

mikey would be the most likely, since he has the strongest ninpo. but he’d be in high demand since he’s so strong, so i think it would tire him and i dont know how much time and energy he’d have to talk to anyone. not to mention the stress he’d feel when donnie would come to him like Hey Can I Talk To My Dead Girlfriend and mikey’s like…. dude i just got home from 24 hours of straight ass kicking i’m about to pass tf out.

and raph, i imagine, died not too long after viola-chan, so whether he could or not is moot.

leo. well. i dont think leo could communicate with viola-chan either. leo is rather avoidant when he feels guilty or ashamed, and (without going into too much of spoiler territory) he’d feel largely unworthy to talk to you, i think. and since we’ve seen that it takes an open heart to use the technique, it wouldn’t work.

and donnie. god. donnie would try. he would try so, so hard. he would try, hours upon hours, every free moment, banging his fists on his thighs as he’d meditate until he’d collapse. reaching out. seeking. already not as strong at this whole ninpo nonsense. unable to calm himself from the need to see you need to see you please just let me see you one last time please please please that would make it impossible to focus. he’d start thinking about tech that could bridge the gap. that’s how his ninpo works, after all. modeling his blueprint. so if he can design a machine that can talk to you. his ninpo can bring it to life.

but he doesnt exactly have a lot of time to dedicate to a personal project like that, let alone one so fucking insane in scale, so actually impossible to do. and as the time passes he grows more and more obsessed with thinking about it. yet simultaneously more and more sure it’ll never happen. i feel like his last moments, alone, bleeding, staring up at the rust-colored sky, he’d be smiling. because of course he he has some kind of death drone army set to go the moment his ninpo cuts off, and it’s one last middle finger to krang. …but also i think he’d be a little relieved. hoping his spirit will find yours and lavi’s.

(do they? who knows. no more hamato exist in that timeline to find out.)

#ask tag #symphony tag #symphony meta

[kyberblade]

Back To You - (Din x Reader) Epilogue/Prologue for Close To Home

A/N: IT IS HEREEEEEEE!!! So sorry it took so long. So much happens. I was going to divide this and then I thought, “Hmmmmm…. No.” As one does. Another note at the end to avoid spoilers. Seriously. Don’t read it until you’ve read the whole thing. You’ve been warned. I have spoken. This is the way. Yada yada yada. …..You just jumped forward and came back didn’t you? 🙄 Also, once again, there is some lore in this that @writerlyhabits​ wrote in a fantastic short, and I loved it so much, I asked if I could use it.

There are parts of this you won’t understand if you didn’t read the Dincember 2022 Drabble Carry You With Me, but they are very small mentions, you will be fine as a whole if you don’t want to read it. But why wouldn’t you? 🥺

(This takes place two years after the other one, and goes to the beginning-ish of episode 1/5 of TBoBF, Return of the Mandalorian.)

I do not own Star Wars or it’s characters. Sadly. But I carry them in my heart. Does that count for something? My soul says yes.

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, Grogu being the cutest thing you ever did see, (Nobody touch me he’s still here okay?) and Din is once again a warning in and of himself in this one. Helmetless Din. What? Who said that? 😬 Typical show violence. Swearing. Space swearing. Grogu is a menace. Arguing? Mando’a. Show dialogue, so spoilers? (But if you’re here, you know how this works.) Return of past characters. Tears. Shenanigans. Lots of banter. Throwback to chapter one with dialogue repeats but in the best™️ way, and copious amounts of me trying to work in back to you as a normal thing in a sentence bc why not.

Word count: 16,655 (I said what I said.)

As always, thanks to @grippingbeskar for encouraging me, looking over this for me, and being the one to introduce me to Din fanfiction in the first place, getting me hooked. You are fantastic and I always love our chats.

And for @fordo-kixed-rex, you deserve so much more than a shoutout for reading all 75 million iterations of this massive chapter from start to finish, and helping me in between. You’re a real one, friend. This series would not have gotten this far without you.

Also a shoutout to @what-the-heckin-heck, @dontletyourchildrenwatchthis, @lloweryourstandardss, and @littlemisspascal for being a sounding board for me over this whole process. (Also to @deceiver-of-gods for all of your help over all the chapters with the Mando’a. I hope I got it right in this one.)

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Xxx

Two years later….

Tatooine was bustling. As always. Vendors with their wares, smells and brilliant sights everywhere you turned. Something new and exciting to pull you in and suck all your credits dry just like the planet's heat stole every drop of moisture…. 

But it was all nothing without the kid. It was dull and drab without Grogu at your side. His soft babbles, the odd ‘Patu’ he’d throw at the next snack he’d like to steal…. 

Dank farrik! Turning away from the hanging frogs at the nearest vendor, you swiped at the most recent batch of tears rising to the surface. Sniffling loudly, you melted into the warm hand that came to rest on your back, eyes fluttering shut.

“It’s okay, mesh’la. I miss him, too.” The modulated voice at your ear carried unspoken sorrow of its own, sadness it’d never dare to even whisper into the universe, lest that make it real. If he kept it hidden, secret…. Like his face, nothing in the galaxy could use it against him. Somehow it made him stronger. And you both resented that and wanted to squeeze the life out of him for it at the same time. 

“It’d be nice if you’d show it once and a while….” You grumbled, turning toward him but keeping your eyes cast down to stare at the sand.

His hand fell to his side slowly. “What?” Head tilting to the side as he peered down at you in question, barely any space left between you, it leaned the other way when you shook your head with a sarcastic grin.

“Nothing. Forget it.” Your eyes lifted up to meet his visor finally, squinting against the glare of the twin suns. “Got everything?”

Din nodded. “Almost. Just need the-”

His words were cut short when the satchel across his chest suddenly dropped to the ground, the strap cut inconspicuously by a passing Rhodian seeming to casually bump into the Mandalorian only moments before.

You turned to try and find the culprit but Din tugged on your upper arm. 

“Forget about him. He’s just the-” Both of you looked down at the ground to find the satchel missing, “-distraction.”

You smirked. “I see.”

As Din’s head began to swivel in search of the thief, you attempted to reach out through the crowd with the Force, searching for the familiar signature of the contents in the satchel.

“How did you not get an alert?”

Now your head was on a swivel. Directly to the Mandalorian. “A what?”

“You know.” He wiggled his fingers like Cara always did when referencing the Force. “Why didn’t you know?”

You rolled your eyes with a sigh, looking back to the crowd. “It doesn’t work that way.” The world weary words you’d said a thousand times felt like a mantra at this point. Then after a moment you added, “I’m not a security system.”

“Well that would be handy,” Din said offhandedly, beginning to walk purposefully in the direction the two of you had come not minutes before.

Stumbling after him, your face scrunched like you’d eaten something sour, you pulled on his upper arm to try and turn him around, but it only stopped him, his head still on a swivel. “Wait, what?!”

Din sighed in frustration. “I don’t know. I’m just looking for the thief. That bag has something impor-”

“Your old armor, I know.” Din’s full attention was on you now, his head tilted slightly in question. “Everything has an energy, that’s a really simplified way of how the Force works. Right now I’m trying to track the signature of your armor.”

“What is it?” He asked hesitantly, his weight shifting to one side.

Smiling softly, you took a step forward, grabbing his hand and pulling him down a side alley toward where you felt the signature grow stronger. “Nothing but goodness, Man- Din. Light and strength.” You stumbled over his name, still not used to using his actual moniker in public.

He chuckled at your fumble, shaking his head in disbelief. “From that dingy old stuff?”

“It’s not the quality of the armor that I’m reading.” You looked at his visor over your shoulder, eyebrow raised. “It’s the quality of the warrior who wore it.” Turning back forward to navigate between the street crowded with lifeforms, one side of your mouth lifted in amusement. “That type of thing leaves an impression.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” he finally grumbled quietly. When you looked back at him once again, your brow arched higher than before, he huffed. “How did you know it was there?”

Smiling softly as you held the gaze of his visor, you turned back to face forward, moving a bit faster. “You’re about as subtle as your new armor.” Din let out a soft, annoyed groan. “I saw you packing it back in Peli’s hangar.”

“I can be subtle,” he groused, slowing his steps slightly.

With your own groan, you turned to face him with a toss of your head for emphasis. “Yes. So subtle, Mandalorian. My big, shiny tin can. Now come.” Grabbing his hand once again with both of yours, you began to walk backwards, pulling him along with you. “We have a thief to catch.”

The alley had quieted down, the masses of beings thinned out so it was basically only you and Din, and maybe a handful of beings milling about, using the cross way as a shortcut to somewhere else. No one was lingering, their faces streaking by as they hurried to move on with their day.

“Hold that thought.” Din pulled you to a stop, planting his feet as he turned his head toward a crate on his left. On top of the box sat his satchel, untouched, his armor still causing it to look awkward and lumpy. “We may have just lucked ou-”

A surge of panic behind you caused you to turn toward the source, a small figure darting out of your line of sight as a familiar small voice muttered, “Oh shi-” before spinning around in Din’s hold, his grip around their forearm holding them tight.

“Okay, you little nerf herder, nice try- Sola?” Din’s voice dropped on the name.

You turned to fully face the pair, eyes going wide on the small girl now a young adult, maybe twelve, possibly thirteen years old now. 

She looked between the two of you, her expression a mirror of your own, as her body deflated in Din’s hold, her weight going slack in his grip while she cried in disbelief, “It’s you?!”

You couldn’t help the highly intelligent thing that tumbled out of you next. “It’s you?!”

Sola sighed a sigh worthy of a Mandalorian before she grumbled, kicking one foot at the sand path of the alleyway. “I knew I recognized that armband.”

Reaching up, you traced over the ribbons on your left bicep with the tips of your fingers on your right hand, eyes darting down to look at it briefly before they pulled back up to level a stern glare on the girl.

Before anything else could be said, heavy footfalls came racing up behind your little gathering. A female stumbled the last few steps, coming to a stop and collapsing, slapping her hands onto her knees before you could see her face, struggling to catch her breath. You opened your mouth to greet the newcomer, but she held up one finger before you could utter a sound. 

Din finally muttered in disbelief, “Cara?”

Your head whipped over toward the figure, eyes wider still. “It’s you?!” A hand came up to rest on your forehead, massaging back and forth as if that would help things sink in and make more sense. Your brows practically knit together in confusion with this new information, one arching up as you stared at the woman. “I’m so confused.”

Standing up, with one last heavy breath, Cara offered the two of you a tired smile. “Following up a lead.”

She held up a hand to stop Din before he could even ask, her eyes closing in mock annoyance. “Long story.” She opened them once again to land directly on you with a wink as Din sighed in exasperation before her attention turned onto Sola, her hand falling to gesture to the adolescent before landing at her side with a graceless slap. “And this little womp rat stole my commlink.”

Din looked down at the girl, giving her arm still in his grip a little shake. “This is Sola.” 

The girl shrunk under the stare of three adults. 

Cara’s gaze flicked up towards his visor, almost accusingly. “Friend of yours?” You nodded, and she sighed, hands going to her hips, weight shifting to one side. “Why am I not surprised?”

“Sola,” you tried calmly, going over to grab Din’s satchel before it was forgotten in the chaos. “Explain, please.”

“Nothing. It was nothing. I just grabbed hers by mistake, that’s all.” She shrugged, trying to appear nonchalant.

Cara leveled a look on the girl, her tone dry. “Off my belt?”

Sola tried a grin. “Whoops?”

The Marshal lifted the look to Din. 

“Don’t do that to me,” he complained. “I didn’t teach her that.”

“Don’t even pretend to look at me next, Cara,” you held up your hand to stop her before she even tried. “I only taught her good things.”

Sola rolled her eyes and tried to tug out of Din’s hold, but the Mandalorian easily held her in place.

“Have a seat,” you offered sweetly, pulling the crate the bag had been on toward you with the Force, and giving her a nudge to sit. “Talk.”

She stared over at the wall behind you, grinning in disbelief. “It was a dare, okay?” Her eyes pulled up to meet yours, their hard stare melting slightly once they did, revealing something vulnerable, something broken. Her voice softened just slightly, but still held the mock vibrato she started out with, making you huff as she continued. “Some kids dared me to take someone’s bag, and I was just unlucky enough to choose you.”

“And my comlink?” Cara tried.

Sola turned to her with a cheesy grin. “That was just bad luck on your end.”

“I’ll show you bad luck,” Cara grumbled, stepping closer to the teen.

You stepped between them. “Cara.”

“What?” She barked, trying to peer over your shoulder at the girl before looking you in the eyes.

“No.”

“She stole-”

“She’s a kid,” you corrected. “Tell me you didn’t do dumb stuff when you were her age. Hell, you do dumb stuff now.”

“You’re one to talk,” Cara grumbled.

You smirked, arms crossing over your chest as your weight shifted to one leg. “Ah, but I travel with a Mandalorian. What’s your excuse?”

Cara scoffed. “I knew him first, if we’re going that route.”

“I’m right here,” Din said, somewhat offended, reaching out to gently push Sola down by the shoulder without a second glance when she went to stand up.

You kept your voice even, mildly distracted as you spoke somewhat flippantly. “Mandalorians who shot their partner in the leg don’t get to talk right now.”

“I didn’t shoot you!” He protested, voice going up at the end in agitation.

“You shot her?” Cara asked at the same time Din spoke, turning to look at him with raised brows.

“I didn’t shoot her!” Din corrected before Cara could even finish, his visor swiveling back to you. “It was a ricochet.” His head tilted to the right as he stared at you. “On Gideon’s ship. The bolt bounced off the droid when she launched at it, and-”

You waved your hand dismissively, gaze landing on nothing in particular across the street. “Same thing.”

“It is no-”

“Ugh!” Sola threw her head back and groaned, staring at the sky with wide eyes, her voice went up with each following word. “This is torture!” Her head lowered back to look between the three of you, eyes narrowed to slits before they fluttered shut and she heaved another heavy sigh. “Fine. I’ll talk.” She leaned back on her palms on the crate, her face finally relaxing to something more neutral. “Just…. Stop whatever…. This,” she gestured vaguely with one hand while her nose scrunched up slightly in disgust, “is.”

You turned back to face her, nodding for her to go on, but Din interrupted.

“Later.”

You rolled your eyes as he waved his finger at you in admonishment before landing them back on the girl, smiling softly. “Go on, Sola.”

She hesitated before taking a quick breath and letting it all out on an exhale, speaking quickly. “My parents are diplomats from a planet in the Mid Rim.” 

“Woah, woah, woah, slow down, kid!”

Sola glared at you, taking an exaggeratedly deep breath before speaking overly clearly the rest of her explanation. “We’re here to broker peace between the different ruling houses and our world.”

“Hey, if you’re going to have an attitude, we can just leave,” you warned.

“Great!” Sola beamed. “Bye!” She went to rise from the crate but both Din and Cara pushed down on a shoulder on each side respectively, earning a soft oomph! from the teen. 

She sighed resignedly before going on. “But as you can probably guess, that goes as smooth as sand in a hyperdrive.” She took a deep breath. “I’m not allowed to do anything. I have to keep up appearances, and stay inside most of the time now because we have gotten death threats after a deal gone bad recently.”

Din visibly stiffened beside her, Cara, too. A chill ran up your spine as she continued.

As she relaxed further back into the crate, her words seemed almost lazy, lackadaisical. “So I started sneaking out. Nothing major, just needed some fresh air, well, it’s Tatooine, so, air.” Her tone went rigid with her posture, the spark in her fading to a dull ember as her volume faded to a mere murmur. Her index finger traced lines along her knee as her eyes followed the invisible trails it made. “Then I met them.”

“Who?”

Sola met your eyes, almost startled when you asked, like she’d forgotten people were listening. She shrugged one shoulder, her eyes dropping back down to her lap, her tone still soft. “Doesn’t matter. A group of kids. They do petty crimes and stuff, I wasn’t going to do anything, but they said they were going to tell the people who had been sending death threats how I was sneaking in and out at night.” Her hand stilled, then began poking at the ankle of her foot tucked up under her absently, her eyes cast down at the ground. “They had been watching me, I guess. Let them know all our weak points in security. If I didn’t do a job for them, then they’d tell….”

“And one job turned into more….”

She nodded at your comment. Her eyes flickering up to meet yours for only a second before they pulled down again.

“Why didn’t you just tell your parents and beef up security?” Din’s voice was in planning mode.

Sola peered up at him, squinting against the suns’ light. “And prove I’d let them down?” She looked down at her lap, fiddling her thumbs. “Sneaking around, been committing petty crimes? Would you have done that?”

Din looked at the ground, his voice quiet. “Probably not.”

“Give me my comlink,” Cara said, holding out her hand toward the girl.

You huffed, arms crossing over your chest. “Really, Cara? You hear all that and you’re still banging on about your damned-”

Once the device was in her hand, she took a few steps away and spoke into it in a professional voice. “This is Marshal Dune. Please call off the search. It wasn’t stolen, I just dropped it. Sorry for the confusion.” A male voice you couldn’t quite make out garbled over static on the other end. “Yeah, I’m fine,” Cara replied, turning to face the three of you. “Also, I’m going to take off the rest of the day. Found some booths I want to wander through. We’ll pick up our meeting tomorrow. Yeah. See you then.”

She made her way back over, clipping the comlink to her belt. “I just bought us about twelve hours. What’s the plan?”

“Plan?” Sola looked between the three of you with wide eyes.

You smiled. Her gaze was up and off the ground for the first time this conversation. And it was full of hope. 

“Of course,” you said, smiling gently. “Nobody messes with a member of our family and gets away with it.” Sola grinned at your words. You’d do pretty much anything to keep it there. “Now, let’s go scare some thugs, shall we?”

Xxx

“Now, I know that you packed it,” you said, standing in the fresher of the Crest, voice jiggling as you hopped slightly to pull the armor higher up your chest. “But I don’t know why.”

“Oh, the Jedi is stumped, is she?” Din’s sarcastic amusement was muted through the door, making you roll your eyes. 

Setting your weight to one hip, you pressed the button, and the durasteel barrier hissed open to reveal your Mandalorian leaning against the frame. His arms across his chest as he waited for you, his posture easy and relaxed, he looked like a growth on the walls of his ship.

Cara and Sola were out in the hangar with Peli, their voices faintly heard along with the annoyed bleeps and bloops of R5 as they echoed off the stone walls and up the open ramp. 

“Not stumped,” you countered quickly, walking around him to the middle of the cargo hold as you pulled your gloves on, chin held high as you chose your next words with care. His visor followed you as you went. “Just…. Curious.” You finally landed on with a huff, looking down at your hands as they fiddled mindlessly before adding on a mumbled, “And I’m not a Jedi.”

Din pushed off the wall, his head shaking gently in disbelief as he walked toward you slowly. “I was going to have Boba melt it down and forge it into something better.” He stopped somewhere behind you. You were purposely not paying attention, trying not to get distracted and make sure your armor was set up correctly, only faintly registering the absence of the soft thud of his boots on the metallic floor of the Crest right behind you before he went on. “I don’t know where the armorer is right now, and it’s not full beskar anyway, so any smith could do it, but I trust him.”

“Something better?” You turned to face him, head tilted to the side as you clicked your vambraces into place, their gears whirring to life. Stumbling back an inch as you startled, his chest plate brushing against your nose he was so close, you reached out to swat his arm lightly in annoyance, muttering a Don’t do that and shaking your hand out to the side with a grimace after it pinged off his beskar. Craning your head back to look up at him properly, you couldn’t help the small grin when you found him already peering down at you. “Like what?”

Din’s head tilted just so to the right. “Something for you.” He didn’t miss a beat. 

Your eyes widened slightly before they narrowed to slits. “You’re not going to tell me, are you?”

He was smiling. You could tell by the lilt in his voice as he leaned into the tilt of his head, his body following and started down the ramp. “You know me so well.”

Reaching out, you grabbed his cape. “Nu-uh. Not so fast, Tin Can. Hold up.” Pulling him back to you, though he gave very little resistance, you leaned around to look into his visor when he was a few inches away, his hands on his hips in mock annoyance. “You don’t have to do that.” Your voice had gone soft. He turned to face you fully. “I know that armor is important to you.”

“So are you.”

You grinned. “Smooth, Shiny. Real smooth.”

Din shrugged one shoulder, his hands falling to rest at his sides loosely. “I have my moments.”

You nodded, starting down the ramp, and talking over your shoulder. “And they are few and far between.”

Din scoffed. “Lucky for you. You couldn’t handle me at full throttle.”

Grinning, you looked down at your vambraces and twisted them a bit. “That sounded like a threat.”

“It’s whatever you wanted it to be, mesh’la.”

“You look like a Mando.” Sola’s voice pulled your attention away from the man at your back before you could reply. 

“What? In beskar?” You gestured to the armor down your body. “No.”

The young girl rolled her eyes at you.

Grinning, you reached up to adjust your scarf tucked in to make the armor fit a bit better, and noticed her posture go rigid.

“You kept it,” she mumbled, pointing lamely toward the blue material around your neck.

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I?”

She shook her head. “No, it’s not that. It’s just….” She pulled at her flowing poncho, revealing her bright pink scarf, still vivid as ever, tucked away underneath, close to her heart. “I have mine, too,” she amended softly. “I keep it hidden so it doesn’t get dirty or torn.”

“Kind of like my armband….” You mumbled, closing the last few steps between you before reaching out to softly roll the fabric of her scarf between your thumb and index finger as she traced the ribbon on your bicep with the tips of her own.

“I still have no idea what hyperspace looks like,” she mused, staring at the glittering fabric with a sad smile. “I was so little when we came here, and my parents wouldn’t let me anywhere near a cockpit. I’ve only ever been in a cabin while the ship was moving. No viewports….” She met your eyes again, hand falling to her side. “Supposedly we flew beside some purrgil and even then they wouldn’t let me look.”

Letting your own hand fall to your side, fiddling with the air aimlessly, you held her gaze. “Why not?”

Sola shrugged. “Not sure. They said something about safety at the time, and I just never pressed it, but now it just feels suffocating.”

“I know it’s annoying,” Din chimed in softly from behind you, his shadow looming over the young girl in the dying sun’s light, “but I would give anything to have my parents be overbearing one more time.”

Sola’s eyes flew up to the Mandalorian. “What happened to them?”

“A story for another time,” he said stoically, turning to the right and going deeper into the hangar. “Let’s confirm the plan.”

You turned with Cara and Sola on your left to head that way, Peli falling in step on your right as the droids followed along behind.

“They aren’t around anymore. It happened when he was very young, about the same age as when we met you. That’s why he became a Mandalorian. That’s all I’ll say,” you offered quietly. “The rest is his story to tell.”

The first stars were twinkling overhead as the sky said good night in brilliant shades of red and orange. 

Once your party had circled around one of Peli’s many cluttered tables off to the side, the top of it littered with ship parts, Din turned to you. 

“Gar beskar'gam jate slanar?” (“Your armor good to go?”)

You nodded. “Elek. An jate.” (“Yes. All good.”)

Sola turned her head slowly up toward Cara, one brow arched in confusion.

The Marshal slowly shook her head, eyes closed. “They do this….”

“Do what?” You asked, brows knit toward your friend.

Cara leveled you with a look. “Start speaking in any one of a thousand languages none of the rest of us know.”

R5 started beeping animatedly, trilling as he wheeled back and forth on his treads excitedly, and ended on a raspberry, making you and Peli laugh.

“Oh, great,” Cara rolled her eyes, “even the droid’s are in on it.”

BD and Treadwell made their way into the circle, the Pit droids not far behind, all of them chattering away as they approached you until Din sent a blaster shot pinging off of a piece of scrap pipe over in a corner.

The droids all screeched before going silent, freezing in their steps as Peli cried in protest, “Hey! Watch it!”

“Yeah, we don’t want another ricochet,” you mumbled, adjusting your armor for no good reason besides looking down and away from his judgemental visor.

Cara and Sola snickered from their spots across the table from you, the weight of Din’s stare beside you nothing short of stifling.

“If you stare any louder, Din, they may ask you to be quiet all the way on Coruscant,” you muttered quietly, adjusting your vambraces needlessly for the umpteenth time to hide the growing smirk across your face.

“I’ll just tell them it’s because of you, they'll understand. Garner sympathy.”

Only your eyes lifted up to glare daggers at his visor, his head tilting to the side teasingly as he held your gaze.

“The plan?” You groused, looking across the table with a sigh as your weight shifted to one side - away from the Mandalorian. 

His tone was light, as if it held a smile, while he laid out the steps of the plan one more time. “Sola said they would be meeting her back at the market in an hour. She meets them as planned. The three of us follow her, and stick around in the shadows, as inconspicuously as possible-”

“Says the man who’s a walking mirror.”

Din didn’t even bother to look at you, only sighing at your remark, his shoulders rising and falling with the effort before he went on. “From there, we follow them back to their base of operations. From what we’ve heard, shouldn’t be too hard to get into. We get in, cause a little chaos, get them to release Sola from this…. Contract, then we leave as quietly as we came.”

“No one dies.”

Cara nodded at your words, Din nodding once in agreement, his body going stiff at your next statement. 

“Even if we run into a Jawa.”

He took a deep breath to begin to protest, but you held up a finger to stop him, mocking his words from earlier.

“Later.”

Xxx

Spotting the culprits was easy enough. They weren’t sly about anything as they paraded through the streets with their puffed up chests, smirking as people scattered from them should they get too close. They hassled a vendor or two, shaking them down for a payout, and Cara grumbled beside you, gripping the buckle that showed she was a Marshal tightly through her poncho she wore to conceal it.

Before you could do anything, Din was hot on their heels, handing the vendors a stack of credits to make reparations as soon as the thugs’ backs were turned. They would try and insist he keep it, lightly shoving the money back into his hands, but Din somehow managed to sweet talk them into accepting every time, his head ducked down slightly, hand over theirs in a calming gesture. You wished you could hear what he said.

“I’ve never seen this side of him,” Cara muttered offhandedly. “Caring, soft almost. It looks good on him.”

“Yeah, it does,” you agreed softly. “That’s how he is with the kid. Grogu brought out a side of him I don’t think would have seen the light of day otherwise.”

She elbowed you. “Oh, I dunno. You’re pretty persuasive. Think it’d’ve come out eventually.”

You slid only your eyes sideways to look at her. “Why must you shit talk me?”

“Because if I don’t I’ll simply fade away. It gives me sustenance. I could go days without food, but teasing you? That simply wouldn’t do.”

Turning your head to peer at her incredulously, you spoke in a low voice after a long moment of silence. “I’m going to go stand over there,” you pointed behind you, “as far away from you as possible right now.”

Cara scoffed. “Good. Go. Your beskar'gam is drawing too much attention, anyway.”

With a grin, you began walking backwards down the street, keeping to the shadows. “Aw, you paid attention.”

Your friend glared at you. “Don’t make me regret it.”

A shit eating grin was across your face. “You’re speaking Mando’a….”

Cara huffed, her attention turning back to the street as she mumbled, “Last time I make that mistake.”

Stopping short, you stood up straight. “Aw, don’t be afraid to show your feelings, Cara. Feelings are a good thing. They make us human-”

“If you don’t stop talking-”

“Are you two done?” Din’s voice across the alley from the two of you pulled both sets of eyes his way. “They left a few minutes ago, but I couldn’t get a word in edgewise, what with your bickering.” His head swiveled between you and the Marshal, judgment heavy through his visor. “Sola is with them, I gave her a tracker, slipped it to her when no one was looking while someone,” he looked at you pointedly, “wasn’t paying attention.”

“I was paying attention,” you groused, voice lowering as you kicked at the sand below your feet. “Just not to that.”

“She was talking about you,” Cara tattled, stepping out of the shadows and into the moonlight, stretching like a loth cat.

“So were you!” You protested, also stepping into the nightlight, making Cara squint as she held up a hand as if to block the glare of the reflection off your armor. Swatting her hand down, you knit your brows at her. “It’s not that bright out here, don’t be dramatic.”

“Children. I’m surrounded by literal children,” Din muttered, turning and walking away exasperatedly.

“There’s no need to be rude,” you grumbled, following after him.

“Then prove me wrong,” he called over his shoulder. “Right now you’re worse than Grogu.” You gasped. “When he needs a nap.” Cara gasped. “And he’s hungry.” You both gasped.

“I take it all back,” Cara stormed past Din, her words brusque and aloof. “You’re the meanest person I know.”

“Person?” Your tone was incredulous as you sped up to fall in step with her ahead of the Mandalorian, head swiveling to land on him with a sly smirk over your next word. “Droid.”

Din stopped in his tracks and sighed, head tilting back to the sky just slightly with a gentle shake. “Oh, this mission is off to a great start.”

When both you and Cara kept walking ahead of him, the bounty hunter finally called out on a hiss, “Hey! Are you two done?”

“I don’t know, are we?” You turned on your heel to face him, hands on your hips as you planted your feet and arched your brows in question, almost accusingly. 

Din bit his tongue before he turned this into a whole something else before this entire endeavor even got off the ground…. again. For the third? fourth? time. He’d lost track of how many times they’d gotten off track in the last five minutes alone, let alone today as a whole.

With a jut of his thumb to his left down a narrow alley, he tilted his head that way for emphasis. “Thugs’re that way.” 

Both you and Cara hesitated for only a moment, weight shifting slightly from side to side before you dropped your hands from your hips with a huff and headed toward the alley, your Marshal friend in tow.

As you passed by Din, he muttered a low and amused, “Oh wise one.”

“I’ll tell Sola you said so,” you shot back in a low murmur. “She already knows I’m the smart one.” The alley was so small you had to form a single file line, and somehow you were in the front with Cara behind you, and Din pulling up the back. 

“She just lets you think that’s what she thinks,” Cara hummed. “We all know it’s me.”

Din snorted. “It’s neither of you.” He shook his head at the two sets of eyes shooting daggers at him over their shoulders as they came to an abrupt stop in front of him. “I’m the one with the map and the tracker, remember?” He tapped the right side of his helmet with his index finger.

“Oh, will you just get in front and lead, you overgrown Tin Can?!” You hissed, flattening yourself against the wall to let him pass, the heat of the day still clinging to the wall at your back.

Cara rolled her eyes as she squished herself, allowing him through, but it was still a tight fit all around between the three of you. When Din passed her, his back against the opposing wall, she grimaced though he moved quickly. “Will you just get out of my face, Shiny?”

“What, you mean you don’t want to get to know me this well?” Din relaxed his weight a little, leaning into her slightly. “I thought we were friends.”

Cara shoved him with one arm toward you, making him laugh as he kept going, stumbling slightly from the impact. “We won’t be if you keep on that thread of conversation, Mando.”

Din stopped directly in front of you, tilting his head sideways as he muttered softly, “Hi, mesh’la.” Leaning his forehead into yours, he chuckled softly at Cara’s over exaggerated gag in reaction.

“I’m trying to be mad at you,” you grumbled, fisting one hand into his cowl as you ignored Cara’s groans, elbowing her in the ribs with your free arm when she continued.

“What was that for?!” She cried in protest.

“Just because I’m happy, doesn’t mean you need to moan about it.”

Her face scrunched in disgust as she looked away at the wall across from her. “Go be happy somewhere else. We have a job to do.”

Din sighed. “She’s right,” and pushed off the wall to get in front.

You held on to his cape from behind him. “No. No, she’s never right.” Cara landed a swift kick to the back of your boot. “Ow! What was that for?”

“For being so wrong all the time!”

“Don’t make me speak Mando’a to you,” you grumbled. “Or how about Huttese? I also know Shyriiwook now, too.”

“How about you speak silence.”

Din snorted at the Marshal’s words from his spot in front of you, Cara huffing out a laugh from behind.

“When all of this is over, you both are gonna pay.”

“You don’t scare me,” Cara scoffed.

Looking over your shoulder, you arched a brow, holding up one hand by your face and wiggling your fingers. “Well maybe I should.”

Her face went pale, her steps faltering slightly as understanding dawned on her features. “You don’t scare me,” she repeated, her voice softer after she swallowed roughly.

You chuckled, turning back to face Din’s cape once again. “The Force works in mysterious ways.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Before you could answer, Din cut in, without bothering to turn around, “It's just her way of threatening to trip you. Don’t read into it too much.”

He no sooner said that than he was stumbling forward down the alley, reaching out to brace himself on the walls with his forearms.

“Look at that? My boot also works in mysterious ways.”

“What happened?” Cara asked, oblivious to you tripping Din with the toe of your shoe.

“Gravity. Don’t read too much into it.”

Grinning up at the back of the Mandalorian’s helmet where he had stopped in front of you, you let go of his cape still in your grip. “Careful, Din. There’s gravity there.”

“What did he even trip on?” Cara’s voice was incredulous.

“Air? His ego? Pride…. The options are endless….”

“The foot of an over eager Jedi that’s about to be in her mouth if she keeps talking,” Din hissed, barely looking over his shoulder at the two of you, arms falling from the walls to his sides.

“How do you mean?” You scoffed, following after him as he began to move down the alley again.

“We’re here,” he said with a flourish, the small avenue opening up to a wide street brightly lit with several buildings that dead ended down on the right. With a swooping gesture, he moved to the left, making room for the two of you to step forward beside him, his visor following you closely before tilting to the side. “You’re welcome.”

“She’s right,” Cara mused quietly. “Your ego is big enough for all three of us to trip on.”

“At least it’s well deserved,” Din groused. “I got us here, didn’t I?”

“You followed a map. That was attached to a tracker. A blindfolded bantha wouldn’t have had a much more difficult time….” You said offhandedly, surveying the area.

Din stared at you for a long moment. “That armor makes you mean,” he grumbled.

“It makes me wonderful,” you countered, eyes across the street on a conspicuous crate, narrowing when it jostled slightly. “You’re just jealous that it looks better on me than it ever did on you.”

“Yeah. That’s it,” Din agreed sarcastically, his weight shifting to one side as he followed your line of sight. Pressing the side of his helmet, he immediately went into planning mode. “I’ve got two heat signatures.”

“Matches up with what I’m sensing. Two life forms. A whole mess more inside.” You took your blaster from its holster, its gears whirring to life. “Everyone set to stun?”

Hums of agreement came back at you along with nods in your peripheral.

“I’ll go in on the right while you two take care of whoever is lurking over there,” Cara gestured across the street with her blaster. “Sneak in that side door and start clearing until I find Sola and slip her a blaster, then we’ll find this boss.”

“I’m in,” you agreed, while Din nodded in agreement beside you. “Let’s go, Tin Can. We have some thugs we need to introduce to beskar.”

Xxx

Storming the place was easy. These thieves didn’t know the first thing about defending their home base.

Getting out on the other hand…. That was proving to be more difficult.

You pulled up behind a wall, tucking your arms into your chest as tightly as possible to make yourself a smaller target, your blaster held between both hands at the ready.

“You said this would be easy!” Din yelled from his mirror position across the hall. Well, almost mirror. He leaned on one shoulder, blaster held up in the opposite hand near his head. His whole body looked just on this side of casual. 

“I said no such thing. You did,” you countered, trying to mimic his posture subtly. “And on that note, Cara was the one who said you and I should go in together, so this is all-”

“Oh, no, you don’t,” Cara’s voice carried from down the hall, the first word elongated as she slid across the floor on her hip to avoid flying blaster bolts to finally land next to you before popping up. “Don’t you dare drag me into this lovers tiff. Nuh-uh.”

Both you and Din spoke in tandem, “This isn’t-”, “We’re not-”

“Yeah, yeah,” Sola said dismissively, jogging up easily behind Din, a singe mark on the shoulder of her poncho. 

Din stood up straight in an instant, took her arm in his hold gently to examine it, turning her every which way to get a better look. “What happened?”

“Told the boss I quit.” She grinned proudly before it melted into a grimace. “He didn’t take it so well.”

Blaster bolts zinged down the hall between the four of you, streaking the air in vibrant shades of purple and red, even an errant green here and there.

“If I could just use my saber-” you started, cut off by the unanimous voices of your friends.

“No!”

Letting your head lull back against the wall with a gentle thump, you rolled it in aggravation before facing the others again. “And why not?! I’ve saved your asses so many times!”

“Close quarters!” Cara was gesturing with her hands while she spoke, referencing the hall. “Too many people!” She gestured between the four of you. “Laser sword very bright! Very hot!”

You narrowed your eyes at your friend. “I singed one corner of your tunic. One!”

“And that was one too many,” Din countered, popping around the corner to let off a barrage of shots before coming back for safety.

“This was my favorite,” Cara said forlornly, looking down at the smoldering fabric. 

“I’ll buy you another one.”

“No you won’t,” Cara scoffed. “You can’t afford my tastes-”

“Can we please focus on getting out of here!” Sola’s annoyed voice rang out louder than the blaster fire, pulling all three gazes her way. 

Din was the first to break, turning back to lay down cover fire once again around the corner. “Kid’s right,” he grunted, before letting off a shot that was accompanied by a pained scream at the end of the hall.

“I thought we were set to stun?” You hissed.

Din looked down at his blaster and shrugged meekly, flipping it back to stun. “Sorry. Old habits….”

“I know I am,” Sola said matter of factly, pulling you back to the topic at hand. “Now what’s the plan?”

Stepping a little closer to the corner you were tucked behind, you holstered your blaster. “The plan is for you all to eat your words tonight.”

“What are you doing?” Cara’s worried tone sounded at your back, Din’s incredulous one to your left. “Mesh’la, come on, don’t do something-”

“To save our skins?” You finished for him, looking up into his visor with a determined glint in your eye. “Watch me.”

After taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes and stepped out into the hall where the blaster fire had died down just slightly. The few earrent bolts bounced away from you as if they were hitting a force field. Confused whispers from the enemy preceded a pickup in the rapid fire, bolts flying at a new frenzy, none of which came anywhere close to touching you or your friends.

Lifting your hands in front of you, the bolts began to stop, hovering in mid air inches from your face, your hands, some several feet from you. The room glowed with multi-colored plasma bolts hovering above the floor. As the shots died out, silence filling in the blanks left behind, the corner of your mouth twitched up in an amused smirk.

With a small twitch of your index finger, all their blasters were disabled with a tink. 

When you opened your eyes, the blaster bolts that hung suspended all immediately flew the other way, back toward the senders, but in such a way that they wouldn’t hit anybody. 

Within an instant the group of thieves at the end of the hall were left cowering, curled away from the stranger approaching them from the opposite end of the hall. Some blinked wide eyes while others scrambled back, all of them surrounded by smoke swirling around from the black scorches left behind from the blaster bolts.

“I think we win,” you said calmly, walking toward them slowly.

“Not if I have anything to say about it!” One rogue thief said, jumping to his feet, blaster aimed at you.

“I wouldn’t do that,” you warned, not even looking at him.

When he pulled the trigger and nothing happened, he looked at his blaster in confusion, pulling the trigger a few more times before shaking it incessantly. “Oh, well.” He shrugged. “I have this.” He pulled a spare from the back of his pants.

In two seconds flat Din had stepped forward and shot him with a stun bolt, dropping him to the ground.

“Like I said,” you pulled the active blaster to you with the Force, disengaging the firing mechanism like you had the others before tucking it into the back of your own pants. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“You don’t need another one,” Din groaned. “That makes what, seven now?”

You scoffed. “Not nearly.” With a dry chuckle, you shook your head. “Try three.”

“Including the knife?”

“Oh, yeah! The knife. No, that’s four.”

“Guys!” Cara cried, walking up to stand on the other side of you. “Seriously?”

“What?” You looked at her a moment before cutting your eyes toward the thieves still looking on in silence. “I’m just recounting the weapons I’ve won from our various missions! I see something I like, I take it.”

“These guys don’t care.” Cara gestured to them with her blaster.

“No…. But I do.” You turned to look at the punks with a broad grin. “And something tells me they want to keep me really happy. Right?”

They all nodded vigorously. All but one. He got to his feet as he said, “Oh, kark this!” He was no sooner on his feet than Din had hit him with a stun bolt, dropping him into a heap of limbs where he stood.

“At least you remembered to use stun this time,” you threw over your shoulder towards Din, never looking away from the band of thieves still looking on wide eyed at your little party of four.

“Yeah…. But I’ve been known to forget things real fast,” Din mumbled, shifting his weight just slightly to rest easily on one leg. The way he held his blaster would make anyone think he’d gone soft, but you knew if someone made a wrong move, they’d be down in an instant.

“Here’s what's gonna happen,” Cara stepped forward, her Marshal voice in full swing. “Sola over here is out. I don’t wanna hear of any of you within spitting distance of her ever again, do you hear me?”

Most of them nodded, wide eyed at the Marshal. All but one. It’s always one, you thought with a smile and gentle shake of your head. 

“And what’re you gonna do about it? Marshal?” The way the punk said her name dripped with so much sarcasm and venom, you were surprised Cara was still standing. If looks could kill, she’d be dead right now. “You don’t even live here, so how are you going to enforce anything?”

To his credit, he looked slightly afraid when you and Din took measured steps forward while Cara spoke.

“I have friends all over. I don’t think you want to find out just how far my reach can go…. Young man.”

Cara winced slightly on the last words and it took everything in you not to burst out laughing. The way her eyes darted over to you, however briefly, with a mighty rise and fall of her shoulders told you she knew she’d never hear the end of this.

He scoffed. “Like I’d believe any of that.”

“But you’d believe blaster bolts levitating in space then flying the wrong way?” You challenged, taking another small step forward. 

The kid scoffed again.

“You believe this?” Din was striding forward, his vambraces whirring to life as the flame thrower charged up.

Reaching out with the Force, you disengaged his vambrace as the wall of fire just started to lick at the toes of the boots of the insolent kid.

“Not now, Mando. I think he gets it.” Shooting your eyes over to the kid before looking back into his visor, you saw him glance over to find the teen cowering behind the others, mumbling apologies.

Din strode over to you, keeping his body facing the group of adolescents to make them think he was still a threat, which he was, but you knew him well enough to know he was looking at you now and not them, his head turned just slightly.

“Turning off my vambraces now, huh?”

You shrugged. “What can I say? You shouldn’t be frying teenagers, Din. It’s not nice.”

Leaning closer to your ear, his voice hummed through the modulator, something in his tone different this time. “Later,” he promised again.

You grinned, winking at Cara as she rolled her eyes and walked off with an over dramatically gagging Sola. “Can’t wait.”

Xxx

Back at the hangar, the four of you tried to move as quietly as possible, to not wake a sleeping Peli. 

“I can’t thank you enough. I don’t know how I could ever repay you-”

Placing your hand on Sola’s shoulder, you smiled down at her when her big eyes looked up your way. So much like the first time you met her all those years ago. “There’s nothing to thank. That’s just what families do.”

“We help each other,” Cara agreed, stepping up behind Sola and putting her arm around her shoulders. Tilting her head to the side in thought, she added with a grin, “And yeah, sometimes we want to murder each other, too, but….” She looked at Din. “It comes and goes.”

“Mostly comes,” the Mandalorian muttered, adjusting his belt before walking off toward the ramp of the Crest. He stopped at the foot of it, withdrawing a vibroblade from his boot before he turned around and walked back. “Hey, kid.” He offered Sola the blade. “Take care of yourself.”

“You bet I will,” she mumbled around a grin, flipping the blade in her palm with expert precision that had your brow arching. Upon closer inspection, she saw a mudhorn upon the hilt. “That’s the same symbol that’s on your armor….” She looked over at your saber. “And your….” 

“Like I said,” you pulled her into a hug. “We take care of family.”

“Where’s my mudhorn?” Cara groused.

Din extended a blaster with a freshly etched mudhorn he had tucked into the back of his belt to Sola as he looked at Cara, head tilted just so. “Hidden with your act of valor. Go find it.”

“You’re mean,” Cara shoved his shoulder.

“You’d get tired of us anyway,” you mused in response to Cara, wrapping your arms around Din’s waist in what seemed an innocent manner, then lightly pinching his side in admonishment, smiling at his slight groan in response. Before he could get his own arm around your waist in retaliation, you pinned it to his side with the Force, smiling up at him smugly when he grunted in unamusement. 

“I already have,” she agreed, looking down her nose at the two of you.

“No you haven’t,” Din countered tiredly as he turned back toward the ship, heading up the ramp.

“What do you know?” She called after him.

“Everything!” His voice came from inside the ship overlapping your muttered, “Nothing.”

“Not enough,” you amended with a grin, meeting Cara’s eye as she returned your smile. “He doesn’t know nearly enough.”

“It’s a good thing I love teaching, then.” She laughed, offering you a hug before she turned to leave the hangar. After a few steps, she stopped and looked back over her shoulder. “You coming kid?”

Sola hesitated in her spot in front of you. “But I don’t…. I don’t wear armor.”

“Verd'ika….” You reached out and rested your hand on her shoulder. “Ad’ika. Cyare'se. Daworir’ika. Ka’ra’ika…. Almost all of my nicknames for you had something to do with little.” (“Little soldier. Little one. Loved ones. Little stink. Little star.”)

“Not so little anymore.”

“I can see that,” you smiled softly. “Tal tomad.”

She pulled a face. “Do I even want to know?”

“Blood ally.” You reached out and pinched her scarf between your finger tips. “Verd ori'shya beskar'gam.”

“What…. What does that mean?”

You smiled. “I need to come with a protocol droid….”  She laughed. “Warrior greater than armor. It means armor isn’t everything.” Moving your hand from her scarf to rest on her shoulder once again, you felt Din come to stand behind you, his reflection beginning to morph in Sola’s watering eyes. “It’s who wears it.” 

Xxx

As you watched Cara and Sola walk out of the hangar, Din pulled you to the side gently.

“Speaking of armor, you don’t have any now, either.”

Looking down at the armor still very much on your frame, you looked up at his visor and blinked at him once. Twice. “Excuse me?”

He shifted his weight, hands resting on his belt in his default I already explained this pose. “I’m about to meet up with Boba in a few minutes. Need the armor so I can give it to him.”

You matched his posture, ignoring his indignant head roll. “Oh right. For this super secret thing for me I can’t know about.”

Din nodded once. “You got it.”

Shaking your head in disbelief, you turned and made your way up the ramp of the Crest, not bothering to turn around as you grumbled, “You’re awful.”

“I know.” His tone was nothing short of beaming.

Xxx

The next day, the two of you were up with the suns and beginning work on the Crest with a handful of Peli’s droids. 

The woman herself had appeared after a while, but she obviously was not intended for morning hours.

Peli had disappeared into the shaded depths of the hangar, citing paperwork of some sort, but her snores could be heard from the main landing area. 

One thing led to another, and the work on the ship was forgotten in favor of brushing up on footwork with two chosen weapons.

The hanger sung with the clashing of beskar on kyber, his spear standing resilient against your purple blade.

The pit droids were hard at work on the Crest to try and cover up the cacophony of battle sounds rising up into the air.

As it hit a new fever pitch, you and Din drawing close together after some particularly fancy footwork, the glow of kyber straining against beskar painting your faces in a soft illuminated glow as you pulled closer still, you smirked. 

“I think that means I win, Mandalorian.”

Din scoffed, his modulator popping with the sound. “Nayc. A’nuhunla,” he drawled, his voice low. (“No. But funny.”)

Pulling back from one another, you huffed out a chuckle as you began to circle each other in assessment, waiting for the other to make the next move. “Give it to me in Basic, Mando.” Disengaging your saber, you stopped dead in your tracks, arms dangling limply by your sides. “I’m too tired to fight and translate at the same time.”

“Gar Jetii’kad,” Din pointed to the now bladeless hilt in your hand. “Nau’ur kad.” (“Your lightsaber.”) (“Light up a saber.”) 

“Din-”

But he didn’t let you finish, his hands tightening around his spear as his weight lowered, ready to charge. “Kad’au, Jetii.” (“Lightsaber, Jedi.”)

“Ne'johaa,” you mumbled, igniting the blade and lowering yourself into a ready stance to match. (“Shut up.”)

Once you were set, you stood straight up again, smiling softly when Din let his lowered weight relax as well in aggravation, his modulator hissing in annoyance. “This was just supposed to be for fun. Some training, maybe. Not-”

“Kad,” he almost barked, before launching at you. (“Saber.”)

“Mir’sheb,” you hissed through gritted teeth as you blocked an overhead blow from his spear, squinting your eyes as sparks flew from the impact. (“Smartass.”)

He took a minuscule step closer, pressing his weight into you and making you bend back slightly. His voice was low and mocking, but strained to show his struggle against your strength as you continued to push back. “Only for you.”

With a shout, you pushed him off of you with a last reserve of strength.

“That’s it. That’s it. I’m done.” You held your hands up by your head. “No more.” Twirling your saber as you stretched your wrist, you tilted your head from side to side. “You’ve got some unresolved issues with only using the stun back there at the hideout or something,” gesturing to him with a swooping hand gesture, you ignored his snort and slight shift of weight, “but I’m done with all your nonsense.” Turning away you took a deep breath and disengaged your saber, mumbling under your breath, “Ni copaani buy'ce gal.” (“I want a bucket of booze.”)

The next thing you knew you were flat on your back, sand flying out around you as the Mandalorian stood over you, flipping his spear back to its resting position with a flourish. All you could process as you blinked up at the cloudless sky was heat, grit, and what?

“I think that means I win…. Manda Jetii.” (The state of being Mandalorian in mind, body and spirit.)

Eyes flying to his visor, you had to squint at the glare of the suns off the brilliant metal. You could only blink up at him, taking his hand when he offered it and helped you up. After a shared moment of simply staring at one another, he turned to survey the hangar, repeating your words from earlier. “Ni copaani buy'ce gal.”

It was at that point you noticed Peli’s face. 

Her very, very, very distraught face. 

Following her line of sight, your eyes went wide as you took in the Crest over your shoulder. Sparks flew, singe marks lined the hull. Did I do that?

A poor little astromech Peli had just acquired was trying to tune up something near the ramp of the ship, and Din, once he turned to survey the damage for himself, spying an unfamiliar droid linking into his ship, let his spear loose without a second thought. 

If you hadn't had the mind to divert it midair with the Force right before impact, the droid would be a pile of steaming wires right now instead of a trembling pile of bolts.

The screech of terror it let out as the spear made impact right above its head made you want to laugh, but you stifled it into your hand, turning a disapproving glare on Din when he asked why you did that.

“We don’t murder innocent droids.”

“No droid is innocent,” he grumbled, looking over at the scrappy little astro unit. 

“They are until proven guilty.”

“I don’t need any proof,” Din mumbled. “Have all the proof I need.”

“You have nothing.”

Before he could say anything else, the angry mech was rolling toward the bounty hunter with an electrified arm ready to zap him, but you held it at bay with the Force. You also held Din back, snorting when he turned a look on you. 

“No.”

Peli somehow materialized beside you, everything about her bewildered and distraught. You let the two arguing tin cans go as you turned your attention to your friend, the final zap from the droid to Din’s thigh before it rolled off not going unnoticed. 

Pointing every which way with each new statement, Peli began to protest. “I was- They were- You just-” Her hands slapped down to her sides, her face pulled determinedly. “That’s not fair!”

She turned to her pit droid crew. “Why do I get all the defective droids in this town?” They began to prattle but she cut them off. “You guys couldn’t fix the wrong side of a bantha.”

Reaching out with your mind, a twitch of your foot sideways ever so slightly, and one of the compartments at the back of the Crest flew off, the wiring inside plopping out like the ship had drunk too much spotchka the night before and now had something to prove.

“It’s alright, Peli. It wasn’t all you.”

“You bet your beskar it wasn’t!” She turned a look on Din. “Don’t think I didn’t notice that massive spear sticking out of the side of my ship.”

Din had the decency to look sheepish, turning his gaze to stare across the hangar, hands on his hips.

“Now I’ll have to track down the Jawas to find enough ancient parts to fix this hunk of junk.” She smacked the hull closest to her with her palm, her eyes fluttering shut as a panel fell off to her right with a clatter.

Leveling her gaze on you, a shudder ran down your spine as Peli stared at you in silence. Finally she spoke again. “You. You’re going to help.”

“And you,” she pointed at Din. He pointed at himself in question and she nodded, maintaining the accusing jab of her index. “Yes, you. Mandalorian.” Din tilted his head curiously. “You are going to go to the cantina to look for a job to pay for all of…. this!”

Peli gestured wildly to the sparking Crest behind her. 

You winced at the singe marks left behind by your saber, beside the puncture mark from the spear as it had let loose from his hands and flown across the hangar. Its beskar body still stood proudly from the hull, glinting in the afternoon sun.

Reaching up high above her head, Peli jerked it from the body of the ship with a grating screech of metal on metal. Green goo began to shoot from the new opening, coating the sand of the hangar around her feet in several inches in a matter of seconds.

She looked down at it before bringing menacing eyes up to glare at Din.

“I’ll be at the cantina,” he mumbled, turning to leave without anymore fuss.

“I’ll…. Be here, I guess,” you mumbled, catching Peli’s death stare out of the corner of your eye. “Pick me up some of those blue cookies on your way back?”

“Really?” Din stopped, cocking his head at you.

“Yeah!” You shot back. “The kid isn’t here, so I don’t have to share them.”

“Who says I don’t want some?”

You scoffed. “Experience.” Crossing your arms, you stared at him. “Besides, who says I’m sharing regardless?”

Din took a step back toward you, his voice lowering playfully. “I could make you….”

“Cantina!” Peli hissed.

You’d never seen Din move so quickly.

Xxx

Peli had dragged you out to the large rolling fortress of the Jawas after she had given her pit droid crew a stern talking to. 

You couldn’t make eye contact with them as you stood just behind her and listened to her admonishments. Their judgmental stares from their single ocular lenses could be felt even across the hangar. 

Looking over the wares, you were just glad Din wasn’t here. Jawas would be dropping like flies if he were. He really had a problem.

Bringing your scarf up to cover your face, wrapping it around your head to keep it secure and protect you just a layer more from the suns beating down and sand blowing in the rough winds, you squinted at an old astromech tucked away in the back near the ramp.

“What about that one?” You asked, pointing to it.

The little hooded figure helping you turned, exclaiming something when he realized what you were asking about, then began talking a mile a minute and gesturing even faster.

Holding up your hands, you cut in, “Yeah, yeah, hold on little guy,” your new Jawa friend grunted at the name as you turned to call for help. “Peli! Get over here!” Waving your hand to gesture her over, you hoped it’d help her find you a bit faster.

You saw her curls before you saw her, turning your way and quickly weaving through the junk as her grumbling got closer and closer, but the exact words were never quite clear enough to understand. “What?” She finally asked in exasperation when she was about ten feet away, a power coupling in one hand and…. Something else in the other, you didn’t know what it was, but it had a lot of exposed wires and reminded you of an eyeball on a stick.

Pointing to your little robed shadow, you smiled at her. “Translate. Please.”

With a roll of her eyes, she focused on your small companion, nodding as he went along. “He says you want that R2 unit.” She turned her focus back to you, hands on her hips, eye on a stick still tightly grasped in one hand, “Any particular reason? I have plenty of good droids back at the hangar….” R5 started tweeting and blipping in concern, making her roll her whole head over to look at the droid on her left. “Oh, keep your dome on. I didn’t mean you.” She gestured to the droid with the eye-stick lazily before her eyes cut over to you. “Unless….” R5 let out a mighty whoop before rolling away.

Chirping and blooping from the R2 unit pulled your attention back to the matter at hand, watching in amusement as it rocked from side to side quickly on two of its three legs. Its shiny dome twisted back and forth as it let out shrill beeps and whistles, a lone raspberry cutting off the tirade before it focused on a Jawa coming up to stand beside it. 

As the tiny cloaked figure reached out to adjust the restraining bolt on its front, one of the droid’s front compartments sprung open in the blink of an eye, a surge of electricity arcing through the air and making the Jawa scream. The little scrapper jumped back, stumbling as its cloak began to smoke, strings of Jawaese getting lost in the wind as the tiny thief marched back over to the droid and swiftly kicked it near its treads.

“Stop!” You ran over, holding up your hands to try and intervene, turning to Peli with a pleading look on your face.

She tossed the junk in her hands onto the ground, doing a double take for the eye on a stick before deciding against it and made her way over to you, thrusting the odd part into your chest as she passed by. With a roll of your eyes, you tucked it into the bag of parts to make its way back to the hangar that was slung across your shoulders. 

The bag was over half full, and getting heavier by the minute, but you’d yet to see anything resembling a part you recognized go into the satchel. At this point you think ninety five percent of what she had picked up wasn’t even for the Crest, she was just exacting her revenge on Din. And you had no problem with that.

Peli tilted her head as she listened to the Jawa go on a tirade. Eyes flickering between the tiny robe with eyes and the droid, she finally looked back over her shoulder at you. “He said this droid is just a problem. It’s memory hasn’t been wiped in too long, so it’s developed an…. Ah, well,” she quirked her eyebrows, her hands landing on her hips as she studied the droid. “A strong personality.”

The R2 unit blooped before zapping the Jawa again, a warbling whistle following after in what almost sounded like a taunt for more.

“Stop,” you said again, taking another step toward the feisty astromech. It was very hard to not smile as you studied the round dome, its light blinking red and white at you rapidly as it scanned you up and down, finding something it trusted enough to calm down. It didn’t zap a third time, but it kept the utility equipped, sending a surge down the line when the Jawa got too close again as a warning.

It reminded you of Din. It even kind of looked like him. You had to really try to contain the smile as you thought of his reaction if you said that out loud.

The head tilt.

The finger.

“Later.”

The body was the typical white of most R2 units, though obviously worn and aged, some pockets of rust peeking through here and there along the edge, along with carbon scoring like it’d seen some firefights. With a darker silver dome, close to the color of your vambraces, you could tell it had received repairs along the line, the contrasting metals denoting different eras in its lifetime. 

The bands along its body that contained the attachments and along the sides of its legs were a warm coppery color, while the panels along its head were a dark gunmetal gray that reminded you of the Crest. 

Altogether it was a patchwork of parts, but it made something beautiful to you. Like when the suns hit the sand just right and caused a reflection in the distance. This droid was a mirage, a shadow.

“What’s wrong with it?” You interrupted the Jawa currently on another tirade that made Peli look like she was struggling to keep up. Getting down on one knee, still a good distance from the droid, you stared into its lense as it studied you once again.

Your friend turned to face you more fully. “What do you mean, they just told you. It hasn’t-”

“No, why hasn’t it moved?”

Peli asked the question, turning to look at the droid as she listened to the answer, its lense now turned on her.

“He said the tread on the right foot is broken. They have it out here because someone is coming to pick it up to wipe the memory. Its-”

“Not anymore,” you said quietly. “It’s coming with me.” Getting to your feet, you began to walk away, stopping when several Jawa voices began to follow after you, each more insistent than the other. You looked at Peli, brow raised in question.

“They say you can’t do that. It’s already a done deal. Now they’re asking if you want any of the other droids, they have an-”

You turned, looking at the gathering of red glowing eyes blinking up at you expectantly. Keeping your voice even, you made eye contact with each pair as you spoke. “You will release the droid into my care.”

A string of Jawaese was mumbled back to you, which you assumed was just them repeating your words, so you went on.

“Remove the restraining bolt, load it in the speeder, and let us go on our way.”

As they mumbled again, they broke off into groups to do what you said. 

Tapping the leader on the shoulder, you held firmly when he turned to look at you. “And it won’t cost anything.”

He nodded before going to join the others.

“How did you….” Peli’s voice dripped with amazement. “Can you-”

“No.”

“You didn’t let me-”

“No, Peli.”

“Fine,” she huffed, crossing her arms and facing the Jawas as they loaded the droid who whistled happily while they worked. “I’m just saying-”

She stopped when you slowly turned to look at her, brow arched.

“Yeah, no, forget about it. Not important.”

Xxx

As you unloaded the droid at the hangar, once it was down on the ground, you knelt down slowly to inspect its injured foot. 

“I’m just going to tilt you a little bit to get a better look, okay?”

The pit droids began lowering some type of harness down to help you, but the droid began to rock back and forth, protesting loudly as its dome swung back and forth.

“Okay, okay,” you held up your hands placatingly, gesturing for the other droids to stop. “No lifts. I’ll do it myself, but you’ve got to trust me. It’ll feel a little strange, but you’re completely safe, I promise. Alright?”

The droid bleeped in agreement after a moment of hesitation, and without further hassle, you nudged it slowly onto its side, floating at the proper angle, held just right by an unseen force. As it moved into the proper placement, the R2 unit blooped an amazed sound.

After poking at the tread for a moment, you wrinkled your brows. “This isn’t broken. What did they mea-”

You were cut short when the tread on the other foot whirred to life where it still rested on the ground, spitting sand in your face in a rapid fire. As you drew back quickly, swatting at the sting settling into your eyes, you just caught a glimpse through your squint of the droid falling the rest of the way to the ground with a screech, your concentration broken.

Before you could really react properly, the R2 unit had popped upright, all manner of Binary curses and colorful language beeping and whistling as it whipped out the zapper it had used earlier on the Jawa, sending a warning jolt down the spine while rotating in a circle to keep all the advancing droids and Peli at bay. 

Then it started to lift off with some sort of propulsion, a victorious squeal echoing off the hangar walls that was all too soon followed by the sound of sputtering exhaust. Its lense pointed down, watching it all unfold, a quiver of fear warbled out of its voice box. The flames keeping it afloat flickered then died, sending it hurtling to the ground with a scream.

You were just able to stick out a hand, focusing enough to catch it inches from the ground. “I got you!” As you lowered it the last few millimeters back onto the sand, you let out a heavy sigh, relaxing into the warm earth beneath you with a quietly muttered, “I got you.”

“Well, that was a first,” Peli announced loudly, amused, as the R2 unit looked at you, a spurt of oil suddenly spewing onto the ground as it moaned in distress.

“It’s about right on track for me, honestly,” you huffed, laughing as you got back to your feet. 

The droid quaked as you got closer, worried coos softly filling the hangar.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you,” you spoke softly, coming back onto your knees a few feet from the R2 unit. “That was actually kind of impressive.” You smirked, watching as the trembling stopped. The droid was silent and you smiled a bit broader. “I would expect nothing less, honestly. It’s what I would do in your situation. Hell, I have done it a few times….” The droid whistled softly in amusement.

You laughed, feeling victorious when it wheeled a bit closer to you.

“I have, too. I live a very extraordinary life, my friend.”

A questioning bloop.

“Yes, I said ‘friend’. I consider you that, not anything less.”

A series of beeps and whistles, the red light blinking much more slowly now.

“I do speak Binary. Very observant.”

A raspberry.

You laughed, and it was followed by the closest sound a droid can make to the sound, a series of trills.

“Can we start over?” 

The droid wheeled closer, bumping its front foot into your knee gently before wheeling back slightly as if to say, ‘go on’.

You introduced yourself, reaching a hand out toward the droid. A panel sprung open on its front, the zapper coming out without a charge, making you arch a brow at the unit as it tittered playfully. The panel closed before another opened, and a small three pronged metal hand extended, closing around two of your fingers and shaking them in jerky movements as it beeped and blooped away.

“R2-B4?” The droid whistled in confirmation, releasing your fingers and closing the panel. “Can I just call you Bee?” A beep that sounded like ‘yes’ and also meant ‘yes’ in Binary chirped happily, filling the hangar. “Well, it’s nice to meet you, Bee. How about we get you tuned up, into a nice hot oil bath, run a few diagnostics to make sure you’re running as optimally as you can be, then starting tomorrow we can-”

Some angry bloops and bleeps filled the air, while she rocked back and forth on her feet.

“No, no, no! No memory wipe! That’s not what I meant! I wouldn’t do that to you.” She stopped rocking, but her lense scanned you up and down rapidly, her light flashing between red and white faster than you had seen yet. “You don’t know me yet, so I don’t blame you. But I’m not going to do that to you. That won’t happen so long as you are here. With me. With us. That makes you you. I don’t want just a droid, I want you, Bee.”

Reaching out your hand, you rested it lightly on her dome and an affectionate beep came out quietly.

“I just meant to make sure you’re running as optimally as you can be. You deserve it, friend.”

It was at this point Din came walking back into the hangar. He stopped short when he saw the new astromech snuggled up so closely with you, the disarray of the hangar floor with the spilled oil and obvious scuffle, and Peli with her army of droids behind her and new eyeball on a stick waving around animatedly as she greeted him with a smile.

“Mando! Finally!” She walked toward him. “You will not believe the day we’ve had.”

The look Din leveled on you through his visor was nothing short of stifling. “Try me.”

Xxx

Once Din had calmed down enough to not shoot the new droid on sight, and Bee had calmed down enough to not zap the Mandalorian on sight, you sat down to explain the situation to Din as the astro unit underwent an oil bath.

“I don’t know, Man- Din.” You pulled a face at yourself as he chuckled at the slip up. “It just felt like I was supposed to, and she….” You looked straight into his visor. “The voices stopped when I saw her. Everything did. I don’t know.” Looking down to the table top to your right, you began to fiddle your fingers aimlessly. “I swear you won’t have to-”

“Okay.”

“Now don’t just- what?” You shook your head to dislodge any sand that may be plugging your ears and causing you to mishear because you could have sworn he said…. “Okay? ….Okay? Did you just say okay?”

Din laughed softly. “Yes.” He nodded. “Fine. I trust you.”

Narrowing your eyes, you leaned forward onto your knees, getting closer to him and peering up with scrutiny for an agonizing minute. “What did you do?”

Leaning back in his chair with a sigh, he rested his hand on his thigh. “Got you a present.” His head tilted to the side as you sat up a bit straighter. “Still gonna look at me like that?”

Eyes going wide, you sat back and matched his posture.

“That’s what I thought,” he said with a snort. “I met up with Boba last night, as you know, and after going to the cantina, he caught up to me with the finished product.”

Din reached over and pulled a tarp off a crate to his right, how you’d missed it you had no idea, especially since the item before your eyes still sang with the same signature as his armor had. 

A jetpack.

Raw beskar and durasteel glinted under the twin suns, polished to perfection and ready to earn their first scuff marks.

“Din…. No.” You looked at him in disbelief. “You didn’t.”

Reaching for the pack, he groaned slightly with the effort, sighing once it sat in his lap. “I couldn’t look at you in that horribly fitting armor one more time, and it was just taking up space on the ship.” He set the heavy gift in your lap. “Now I don’t have to lug you around anymore.”

Scoffing, you leaned in closer to him, batting your lashes. “Don’t lie, you like lugging me around.”

He tossed his head side to side. “It has its perks, yes, but now….” He gently nudged you back with a finger to your shoulder so you were sitting normally in your seat again. “Lift yourself, mesh’la.”

Sitting up straight as you held the jetpack in your lap, you traced its curves with your hand. “I don’t know whether to be offended or say thank you.”

Meeting the gaze of his visor through your lashes, he simply nodded.

“That’s all I needed to hear. Now, let’s get you fitted and flying - but first, I have to sync them with your vambraces, or else you might-”

“Let me guess,” you sighed, relaxing back into your chair with a thump. “Or else I might blow something up?” Din nodded once in confirmation, and you mirrored him. “Some things never change.”

“And some things change all the time….”

“Well that was cryptic.”

“Fennec found a contact for me that might know where the Armorer is. Where the covert moved to.”

Your eyes went wide and you froze, halfway to attaching the jetpack between your shoulder blades. “Excuse me, what?”

“It’s a job, but I head there in two rotations-”

Your face fell flat, along with your tone. “Excuse me, what?”

“Are you broken?” You arched a brow in question at him. “You haven’t moved since I mentioned the Armorer and you’re repeating yourself.”

With a huff of disbelief, you let the jetpack to the ground beside you with a gentle thud, and faced him once again. “Oh, I don’t know, maybe it’s because you’re insane?!”

“Excuse me, what?”

“See?” You gestured to him. “A perfectly valid reaction.” Din huffed, his head tilting to the side in annoyance as you went on. “First off I was excited for you, but then you go and say something crazy like you’re going alone?”

“Well I just assumed….”

“Go on,” you deadpanned, smiling slightly when he trailed off, swallowing roughly.

When he never did, you sighed heavily and forged on for the both of you. “Since I’m your wife,” you began, eyes cast down to the sand, ignoring the way he tossed his head back with a groan, “I think it’s only right I go with you.” You looked up to meet his visor. “Not to mention I continue to save your skin daily.”

“One time. I….” He held up one finger. “That was. I let that slip one time with Peli and it was an accident.” He huffed, staring at you for a long moment. “You're never going to let me forget that are you?”

You grinned. “No.”

Xxx

The two of you landed at the front of Peli’s hangar when you saw an unknown droid approaching in the street from where you were training in the air.

“Oh! Pardon me!” The courier droid raised its hands up in surrender. 

Reaching out, you lowered Din’s blaster. “You have a problem,” you mumbled. “You need to ask questions first, shoot later.”

Din grunted. “That’s not how I work.”

“Well, maybe you need to upgrade your circuitry, Tin Can.”

Both Din and the courier looked at you.

“Beg your pardon, miss, but that is a Mandalorian, not a droi-”

You couldn’t help your snort of laughter. “What’s the message?”

“Oh. Yes.” The droid reached into a bag fastened to its hip. “You have a holo from a Greef Karga? It’s marked sensitive/eyes only. I suggest you watch it someplace private.” Leaning around to look behind you into the vacant hangar, the only other soul being R5 rolling past with an offensive blip, the droid then looked back at the two of you. “Or just stay here.”

Taking the device from the droid with a smile, you were surprised when it didn’t just leave.

It reached back into the satchel and procured another device. A puck. And handed it to Din.

“What’s this?” The Mandalorian asked dryly, looking at the small device in the droid's hand as if it were the most confusing puzzle in the galaxy.

“Courtesy of Greef Karga…. once again.” When Din made no effort to move, the droid looked between the two of you. “They go together. I assume they offer some explanation. Otherwise, I have nothing to tell you about them.”

Din sighed, taking the puck and shutting the hangar door before the droid could say another word.

A muffled, “Oh. Well, good day, then!” Came through before the retreat of mechanical footsteps was heard.

“That was rude!” You mumbled, turning to go deeper into the hangar, but freezing when you saw the info spinning above the puck in Din’s hand. 

No.

No it couldn’t be.

Quickly activating the comm, you let Karga explain what you already feared.

“If you’re playing this message, you’ve already opened the puck. Yes. I know. I was just as shocked, too.”

There, in letters as big as day was your name.

“It was issued by the head of some small town crime group on Tatooine. Said you decimated their numbers yesterday?”

Din grunted. “Nobody died. What do they mean decimated?”

“I’m not issuing the puck to anyone, but be on the lookout. It could make things…. Difficult.”

The comm went dead, and all you could do was stare at the puck in Din’s hand, the info being presented to you but truly not being absorbed as all you could do was watch and blink.

The puck displayed your picture, slowly spinning with all your details next to it. 

Name: Eesra Kesyk

Last known location: Tatooine

Known associates: Din Djarin, Boba Fett, Fennec Shand, Peli Motto, Sola Kei, Cara Dune, Greef Karga, Mythrol, Bo Katan Kryze, Ahsoka Tano, Luke Skywalker

Karga, Mythrol, Bo Katan, Luke, Ahsoka? For some small time group on Tatooine, they had really gone out of their way to find info on you….

Your gut sank. 

Unless….

You shook your head. There’s no way this went beyond a small town crime lord on a backwater planet. No way.

Focusing back in on the list, you squinted to read the fine print it was in to have everything fit on the little readout.

The rest was just details, date of birth, previous work…. reason for bounty.

“Are they serious?”

Unlawful use of star cruiser in restricted airspace, failure to comply with law enforcement, breaking and entering, damage to public property, battery and assault….

Din thought this was all very funny. He was practically giggling by now, snorts of laughter trickling out of his modulator as he stood to your right.

He’d tried to stop under your glare, he really did, but it just wasn’t possible, little snickers escaping here and there. 

“Who knew I married such a horrible person?”

He did this from time to time. Brought up his little misstep with Peli where he’d called you his wife, leaning fully into the absurdity and embracing the silliness you often tried to pelt at him mercilessly by saying it himself first.

Rolling your eyes, but unable to contain the small grin climbing up your face,  you looked back at the puck and crossed your arms firmly over your chest. “You knew what you were getting yourself into, Tin Can.” Tilting your head at the readout, you pursed your lips. “And we’re not actually married, no matter what you said to Peli. You’re not ready for all of this.” Making a swooping gesture to yourself, you ignored his mocking snort of amusement. 

You stared at the list for another loaded minute of silence before going on. “Besides, half of these aren’t even true!” Gesturing to the list with one hand, you turned to look up at his visor, brows raised. “Unlawful use of starcruiser…. When did we even leave the planet?”

He was still chuckling warmly as he turned to you. “Did I? Know what I was getting into, I mean? I don’t know about that, mesh’la.” His chuckle grew louder as your face fell into unamusement. “And are you sure? Only half?”

Turning to face him fully, you raised one hand to wag a finger in his face teasingly. “Hey, you’re the one that keeps coming back.”

Pulling you into his arms, he hummed contentedly. “And I always will come back to you.”

Copying his hum of satisfaction, you reached up and grabbed his cowl like always, tucking your face into the fabric and taking a deep breath before turning to the side to look at the holo once again with a sigh.

“They got my name wrong, though.”

“Did they?”

“Mmm-hmm.” Tucking your face into the crook of his neck, you smiled. “Eesra Djarin of Clan Mudhorn…. That’s so much better, don’t you think?”

He groaned softly. “I-”

Bleep!

Din grunted in mild annoyance as Bee rolled up the ramp, stopping beside the two of you and trilling animatedly. “Not now, Scrap.”

Bee let out as close to a matching grunt of displeasure a droid could make, flipped out the electrified arm on her front, and waved it at Din in warning. 

“See? This is why I don’t like droids,” Din grumbled.

Rolling forward bit by bit, backtracking just slightly in between, she pried her way into the small amount of space between the two of you, making you step back just slightly to make room.

“Well, hello there,” you mused quietly to the metallic dome whose lense was looking up at you, smiling back at the tiny bloop in greeting. “May I help you?”

She babbled away in Binary animatedly, charged hand still extended toward Din in warning as she rolled ever so slightly closer towards you, tilting forward just a bit and causing Din to grunt as the forward motion pushed the bottom of her housing into his shin guards with a ping.

“I’m sure R5 didn’t say all that. What are you getting at?”

More beeps and whistles, this time containing squeals as her lense switched between red and white rapidly, almost faster than her sounds, as she animatedly continued her story.

“Wow,” you finally said when the droid stopped, staring at you expectantly.

“What did she say?” Din tilted his head at you.

“No idea.” You looked up into his visor. “All I caught was something something BD said and then Peli, Jawas….”

Both of you started to chuckle softly, Bee looking between you as she rotated her dome back and forth, a bloop of disappointment before a raspberry of annoyance, and you couldn’t shake the growing grin on your face if you wanted to.

After a moment she reached out just a little further and zapped Din with the electrified arm, tittering a laugh as she rolled away at speed as Din chased after her after crying out in pain. “Ow! Get back here, you rolling scrap heap!”

Crossing your arms, you leaned against the opening of the ramp to the Crest, and watched the scene unfold in Peli’s hangar.

Droids, a mechanic, and a Mandalorian all running in circles after a goal you weren’t quite sure of. All that was clear was Din was losing.

You were home, with the people you loved.

Looking to the side, you saw the bunk of the Crest open, the child’s hammock still strung across the top. The corners of your mouth pulled slightly down.

Well, almost everyone.

You were a clan of three.

No, it was more than that.

You were also a family.

And someday, you’d all be back together again.

Someday soon.

You’d find a way to bring it all back to you.

Adjusting your weight slightly, you bumped something on your vambraces in the process causing the jetpack between your shoulder blades beginning to whir with an increasing hum. Flames began to sputter at its base with a growing roar, sending a wall of heat down the backs of your thighs as it prepared to lift you into the skies once again.

“Din?” You called, quietly at first, staring over your shoulder at the new death trap strapped to your spine, then more urgently, “Din!”

He was already jogging up the ramp toward you, his posture easy and relaxed. “Calm down.”

A quick glance behind him showed an amused Peli and her circus of droids, all of them tittering in amusement. Bee rocked back and forth in glee at the foot of the ramp before rolling back to the others. 

“Calm down?” You repeated in bewilderment, watching him disengage the jetpack from your vambrace with a single button push, as if it was the easiest thing in the world.

“Calm down?!” He began to chuckle, his hand skimming up the inside of your forearm to lightly grab your elbow and push you further into the ship as you went on. “I was almost a flying projectile and you-”

You hadn’t noticed the way he’d nudged you backwards completely out of sight of the rest of the hangar until your spine sealed along the bulkhead by the weapons locker, the lights of the cargo hold going to half brightness with a deft swipe of his hand over a control pad to your left. 

Half, but still plenty bright to see.

“Din?”

Taking in your new surroundings, you looked back up to see him taking his gloves off and tucking them in his belt. His helmet came next, the quiet hiss of the mechanism causing you to screw your eyes shut. The familiar sound of beskar thunking onto the metal floor of the Crest made them close even tighter.

Din chuckled softly, the unmodulated sound tickling your face with his warm breath. “Open your eyes, mesh’la.”

“Oh, yeah.” Slowly you blinked your eyes open, looking up to see warm brown eyes, and the sweetest smile waiting to meet you. “I still forget.”

Winding your hands up into the curls at the base of his head, you smirked when he let out a contented sigh through his nose. 

After a moment of simply holding the other’s gaze, you muttered quietly, “Hello, brown eyes.”

Din was on you in an instant, his groan of annoyance muffled against your lips as you laughed softly into the kiss. 

“You always have to ruin it,” he mumbled, crowding you further into the wall, his bare hands coming to cradle your face and making your eyes slip shut at the contact. “Nu-uh. Open your eyes, mesh’la.”

Fluttering them open, you tried very hard to keep them that way. “Sorry. It’s not every day a Mandalorian is half naked in front of me. I’ll try harder.”

“Half naked?” He tilted his head, the tip of his nose bumping against yours, one brow arching up in question. 

“For you, a helmet and gloves is the equivalent of a-”

Din was back on you again, this time growling in mock frustration against your lips as you laughed a bit louder. The upturn of his lips gave his amusement away, though.

Pulling apart just enough that only your foreheads rested against one another, the two of you held that moment together for quite a while. Simply breathing the other in, and existing in this quiet moment before the storm. 

Before you left to find more Mandalorians. 

More Mandalorians. 

Now that was going to be interesting. 

After a moment, you rolled your head to the side slightly and peeked up through your lashes to find his eyes closed.

You opened your mouth to speak, only for you both to speak in tandem, “Open your eyes.”

“I will if you will,” you were quick to retort.

Warm brown eyes met yours once again as the setting suns’ light poured in through the open ramp somewhere behind him, painting the cargo hold of the Crest in vibrant shades of gold, orange and red.

Din smiled softly, pressing his forehead further into yours, using his hands at your cheeks to maneuver your head back a bit and into a better angle for him to lean his forehead into. “Only for you.” His fingers began to move up and thread into your hair. “Always for you.” It was hard to tell where he stopped and you began. “Gar cuyi ner aliit. Ni kar'tayli darasuum gar. Gar cuyi ner mir'sheb bal gar utreekov kar'tayli darasuum gar, cyar’ika.” He pressed his forehead even further into yours, his lips ghosting over your own with each word. (“You are my family. I love you. You are my smartass, and your idiot loves you, darling.”)

“Gar cuyi ner yaim. Ner yaim'ol. Ner yaim'la.” The light of the day was fading, much the same as the two of you were melding into one another, practically becoming one being, all his hard edges blurring where your soft lines began. The Crest began to fill with long shadows as the lights in Peli’s hangar kicked on, filling the cargo hold with just enough extra light to see. (“You are my home. My homecoming. My comfortable.”)

Reaching up, you cupped his face in your hand, and he melted into it, his eyes fluttering shut as he leaned into your palm, his voice a low rumble. “Ni ratiin yaimpar gar.” (“I always return to you.”)

In the quiet moment, you rubbed your thumb over his cheek bone slowly back and forth before finally whispering with a smile, “Open your eyes.”

Once he was looking at you once again, you pulled your head back just a bit and tilted it to the side. “So, where are we going to find the covert?”

He went stiff. “We?”

You sighed, laying your head on his pauldron. “It’s been how long, and you still haven’t learned that I’m always going to come with you?”

Din looked at you with a matching sigh. He tilted his head at you, his weight shifted to one leg, his hands on your waist moving you along with him. “You sometimes stay here when I go out on a job and help Peli work on the ship. It’s almost done after what Gideon tried to do- er, it was until today.”

“Exactly. So after this last massacre, I don’t think Peli wants to see my face around here anymore,” you laughed, making him shake his head and let out a huff of laughter. “I think Boba would give us a lift to wherever.”

“And then how do we get back?”

You smiled as you closed the small space between you, speaking softer as the situation began to feel more delicate. “We’ll figure it out.”

“Why are your ideas usually half baked or somehow involve fire?”

You closed the distance between you yet again, wrapping your arms around his neck tightly, and pressing your forehead into his. “And yet they always work….”

“You get lucky sometimes,” he groused half heartedly before he returned the gesture, a warm ungloved hand spread across your back, the other moving up to the back of your head to tuck your face securely into the crook of his neck.

You weren’t about to pull away as he held you there gently. Turning your face towards him where it rested on his shoulder, your nose brushed against his neck, and his grip grew tighter. Glancing up towards his face, you thought back to a time in the bar when this all started when all you could see before the helmet obstructed your view was a small sliver of skin that bobbed as he swallowed roughly. 

Now you had an unobstructed view….

….Of unruly dark curls long overdue for a trim….

….Golden skin dusted with a light facial hair that had the slightest hint of grays peppered in….

….Kind, warm brown eyes that looked at you with so many promises….

….A nose that had definitely been broken once or twice….

….And a smile that took your breath away.

You turned your head up fully towards his face as you pulled away just enough to look at him straight on, and he turned his gaze down to meet you with a slightly playful tilt of his head like before.

“I’m just that good.” Your hands fell to rest on his chest plate. “Now let’s go find your people.”

“Let’s go find our people,” he corrected.

With a gentle nod, you pulled away slowly after a moment, turning towards the ramp with wide eyes as what just happened sunk in.

Our people.

Din walked past you, looking over his shoulder once he was on the ramp. “Are you coming?”

Our people. 

Turning your head slightly to the left, you saw he had stopped, helmet back on, gloves securely fastened, and every bit the Mandalorian you had met all those years ago, only now he stood waiting for you, hand outstretched in invitation.

Mine.

You smiled, walking forward and taking his hand. “Moff Gideon couldn’t keep me away.”

Xxx

Yes, I gave her a name. Eesra Kesyk. (Ee-sruh Keh-sick) Let’s face it, Mesh’la is still what’s going to be used 99.999999% of the time, and “you” the majority of the rest. But we’re going into a part of the story with a whole lot of other new players and I wanted to have something to call the reader besides “you” and nicknames. I know this isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, and I’m sorry. But, it’s my story, and that’s what I chose to do. I have a plan, so if you’ll bear with me, thank you, and I hope we can see it through together. ❤️ Plus, Din still just calls her *sigh* or “stop it!” 99% of the time, so…. 🤭

Xxx

Tags to come!

#din x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin fanfiction #star wars imagine #star wars reader insert #mando x reader #mando x you #mando x y/n #din x you #din x y/n #din djarin x you #din djarin x y/n #star wars x reader #star wars x you #star wars x y/n #din imagine #din djarin imagine #mando reader insert #the mandalorian #star wars #din djarin #mando #grogu #grogu x reader #the mandalorian reader insert #the mandalorian imagine #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x y/n

[endious]

GOD istg holy fuck your works.. do some shit to me goddAMN

"exposed to horror way to fucking early" to "horrible, awful kinks" pipeline is real and i'm the proof

anyway. i regularly think about running through the woods away from ej only to be tackled to the ground and violently fucked then and there on the ground. no matter how much i struggle he's so strong he can easily hold me down anyway and breed me as much as he likes. if it starts to annoy him how much i squirm he can just hold a knife to my throat and threaten to kill me if i don't hold still and take it

that is all, and goodnight

7:13 PM — run rabbit, run.

ft — eyeless jack x fem!reader

cw — noncon, breeding kink, pred/prey play (noncon), monster cock, belly bulge, dacryphilia, cervix breaching, womb fucking, choking, marking, blood, kidnapping

-17 & ageless blogs dni

wc — 975

an — leaving you with a small gift bcus <3 i love some good breeding kink + noncon. i’ve never wrote for jack yet but i hope this is fine!

He saw it as a game. Chasing you around these woods, the very ones he lived in and knew like the back of his hand was fun for once. Jack didn’t get a lot of fun in recent times, in face he rarely ever got it so he thought he could indulge in this little game of yours for a little while longer.

His growls are nothing of a human and he himself isn’t quite one anymore. His deathly grey skin and gaping eye sockets make him look like something out of a horror movie, perhaps that’s why you ran from him when he removed his mask.

It annoyed him at first, you seemed calm earlier so why were you acting like he was a monster now? Was it because he had caught you? Was it because he ripped your clothes off and started clawing at your poor flesh to leave his mark and his scent on you? What exactly scared you to the point of screaming for your life… Jack just couldn’t understand, but he was unable to understand human emotion now, unable to comprehend why you were all so frightened by his appearance. The doctor didn’t look in a mirror too often perhaps.

“That was fun,” It’s a deep growling sound in his chest, a sound a human couldn’t make. It was as if his voice echoed in your own skull whenever he talked, a thick tension in the air when he spoke or when his presence was near. It scared you to your core, heart hammering against your ribcage and he could hear it, and he loved it. “Now playtime’s over.”

“N-no! Please, just a little l-longer..” You excuse, stumbling over your words as the cool evening wind blows against your exposed body. The ground is uncomfortable under you and God you wished this thing hadn’t ripped your clothes off. You played it smart so far maybe you could convince it to hold out just a bit more so you could get help this time—

“No.” He shoves your legs up to your chest painfully, wind knocked from your lungs when he shoves his thick tip past your folds. There was no prep, not that you’d expect a creature to offer it. The pain felt like hell and it only grew more as he tried sinking further into you, his groans and growls making you tremble with fear that he might rip you apart any moment.

“So— tight— ngh,” His groans sound animalistic as he ruts into your cunt. He’s way too big and after taking a glance at his dick your suspicions were correct. His cock was abnormally large compared to any you’d seen ever before. It was too big to be put inside of you, you were sure of it but this monster wouldn’t stop until your whole pussy swallowed him whole even if it killed you in the process.

“‘s too big! Get it out!—“ His clawed hand grips your tiny throat, squeezing dangerously tight as your face turns shades lighter until he’s relaxing his hold with a hum of curiosity. He forgot how fragile you things were.

“You’ll take it.” He snarls, forcing more of his shaft into you and you swear you’re being split open literally by his size. His tip is pushing against your cervix and with each animalistic slam of his hips into yours it’s close to breaching your cervix straight into your womb. “You’ll take every inch, rabbit.”

You try to thrash around, tears slipping down your cheeks as you scream and cry for help but it’s no use. You were being fucked in a large forest you got lost in to begin with, there was really no hope of getting out now unless he allowed it.

Your brain was slowly turning off, he could tell when your brows started to knit together when his cock rubbed against that spongy spot inside you. You were getting used to it, accommodating to his size and letting him use your cunt. You were learning your place and that make his chest tighten with a type of happiness that wasn’t quite normal.

His dick twitches against your walls, your pussy stretched to the fullest and stuffed with his dick as your head goes limp against the ground and you bite your bottom lip hard to keep noises in. You didn’t want to make him angry like earlier, he already threatened to eat your organs while you slowly died… surely this was enough torture to go through as is.

“‘m gonna fill you up,” He gasps, his voice thumping around in your head as you rock against the uncomfortable ground and he uses you like a fleshlight. His growls and pants grow in volume making a shiver of fear fall over your body until you feel him stilling against you with his hips flush to yours. You yelp with widened eyes when he fills you up so much his tip breaches your cervix, his seed filling up your womb and dripping around his cock as he trembles with the afterglow of orgasm.

He’s still coming as he holds you to the ground but you’re too tired to fight back now. That sparkle in your eyes dulled tremendously as he grabs your face and tilts his head as if curious about your expression. As if you were the odd one.

He keeps you there, claws tracing over your bloody and marked body and he think for a moment that soon you’ll need to be stitched up or the blood loss would turn severe and worrisome.

“Don’t worry.” He sounds calm again, that same voice that became a safe haven for you in dark times like this when you needed something to cling to. “I won’t ever let you go.”

But all good things must come to an inevitable end.

#eyeless jack #eyeless jack x reader #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta #creepypasta smut #eyeless jack x you #eyeless jack x y/n #eyeless jack smut

[deerlottie]

NAT ANGST I THOUGHT ABOUT

Tw-flashback about Nats shitty dad, safe word use, mention of abuse, and she gets very scared and the end is sort of hurt/comfort

Thought of it being one of the first times nat and R have sex and they’re still figuring out each others kinks and their dynamic(s). nat going into it like “willing to try almost anything” but then quickly realizing that verbal degradation takes a lot out of her and it can trigger a fight or flight response in her :((((

“uhh- fuck, RED! Sorry, fuck, i’m sorry, please stop, i can’t, please don’t touch me right now, i just need a minute, sorry”

her rushing to the bathroom with wide and frantic eyes gripping the sink trying to tell herself to get it together but she can’t get rid of the memories of her dad. The second her brain processed the words “little slut”, she felt the weight of the gun in her hands, the powerlessness of watching her dad hit her mom and then hitting her, the way she felt like her pain was limitless when he called her stupid and useless, she couldn’t get out of her head. As r approached the door wondering if it’d be helpful to go in with her or stay out here, nat quickly barges through, grabbing her clothes from around your room, avoiding eye contact the entire time.

“Listen, um, it’s been real and uh..i like you a lot, but i just remembered a thing i gotta do so i’ve gotta head out. I didn’t mean to give you blue balls or anything, but i’ll see you.”

She didn’t even believe the shit she was saying…tears were still coming down her face the whole time she was talking and she tried to give you a quick “smile” and kissed you on the cheek, but even someone without a working olfactory sense could smell the bullshit from miles away. Next time you see her, she goes out of her way to explain why she freaked out last time. Lottie had encouraged her to talk about her feelings instead of running away. Had it been up to her, she would’ve moved to another continent to avoid talking about her feelings. But she really wanted to make things work with you.

“I don’t know. I guess i had kind of a shitty life with my parents and everything and uh. I guess i just got.. scared? I was really, really scared. It like. Brought me back to somewhere i didnt wanna be.”

She doesn’t get into detail at all, but you get the gist of it well enough to understand. You apologize, thinking maybe if you had asked her in depth about what she was comfortable with, she wouldn’t have freaked out. You like her SO much. And you’d never knowingly do anything to hurt her.

Then the weeks after she talks to you, she turns into the biggest cuddlebug ever. She won’t admit it, of course, but she feels safe around you. That hasn’t happened for her in forever. A part of her is scared shitless by it, but she lets herself indulge in the simple pleasures of being held and holding people she cares about. You’re there to hold her when nat has a nightmare one night, shushing her cries and whispering to her that it’s just a bad dream and that she’s safe with you. Oh my god i love her.

oh mygod :(((((((((((( the second she says red, you stop immediately and your heart sinks. the last thing you ever wanted to do was hurt her and you feel SO guilty and ur minds racing a million miles a second while she's in the bathroom ☹️ you text her a few times after, asking if she's okay, but she never responds so you get the hint to just leave her alone but you feel sick and sosososo bad.

thinking about her sneaking into your window to come and apologize :((( you're so happy to see her again and relived to know that she doesnt actually hate you, and you give her all the time in the world to just sit in silence and figure out what to say. holding her while you two sleep that night and she's never felt safer and more secure ☹️☹️

sometimes she just needs to hold you for hours just to calm down too :((( her head gets to her sometimes and she just Needs you. ur always there to whisper reassurance in her ear and she feels like a fool for crying at the simple words but they help so much.

#natalie scatorccio thoughts 💭

[high-dragon-bait]

Did anybody ask for Solas and Anders banter?

You just did!

God I really just shoved as many headcanons that could feasibly fit into this. I’m so sorry. 

Like the Fenris and Solas banter, this takes place post DA2 but during Inquisitions timeline.

___

Anders: You must hate what I did with Justice.

Solas: Why would you think that?

Anders: I took a spirit into my body. Now he’s gone. He’ll never go back to the Fade. I can’t imagine you’re pleased with that.

Solas: I was under the belief you did this to help it. Is the truth you coerced it? Bound it and forced it to be one with you?

Anders: No. Never. He was my friend.

Solas: Then I fail to see where I would draw my judgement.

Anders: It was unnatural.

Solas: Only by your understanding of nature.

____

Solas: I am glad to meet another counting spirits among their friends.

Anders: Just the one spirit. And it’s not as if we’re talking much these days.

Solas: I’d argue you’re always talking in some ways.

Anders: I miss him sometimes. The Justice I knew before.

Solas: I’m not sure I understand.

Anders: Justice, when I met him he was different.

Solas: I’m sorry, I’m still confused. How could it have been different?

Anders: He was kinder, before he... met my anger.

Solas: You believe your anger effected it? Changed a spirit of Justice?

Anders: What else could it have been?

Solas: Justice is fluid, just as wisdom, hope, and valor are fluid. The justice you seek against the templars is different than the justice a Grey Warden seeks against the darkspawn. Indeed, even the child crying at her mother after a sister steals her favorite toy is seeking justice.  

Solas (Cont.): Justice simply became the force you always sought.

Anders: That still sounds like I changed him.

Solas: One could argue change is all Justice is. 

____

Solas: I saw you healing a scout in the yard, Anders. He looks well, but I must admit I’ve never seen healing magic such as yours before.

Anders: I made a lot of it up.

Solas: I’m sorry?

Anders: You aren’t taught healing in the circle, no more than you’d need to heal a templar’s burn. Maybe some are, if they’re obedient enough to stop when the Knight Commander says they’ve done enough.

Solas: Forgive me, I may know less of the Circle than I thought. Why wouldn’t they teach such vital magic?

Anders: Think about it. A healer holds the life of another in their hands. A real healer could bring a man back from the edge of the void, but all the Chantry sees is how much power that gives to a mage.

Solas: So your skills you had to learn on your own?

Anders: I experimented. Improvised. I tested new ideas on myself first of course. Turns out being Hawke’s friend offers more opportunities than the Wardens.

Solas: I was aware of the limitations the Chantry places on magic, but that seems...

Anders: Monstrous?

Solas: Bluntly, yes.

Anders: The Chantry doesn’t care how many people it kills to keep mages caged. “Magic exists to serve man, and never to rule over him.” Words twisted to doom us all.

____

Anders: Is it possible for Justice and I to be separated?

Solas: No.

Anders: Couldn’t live without my head, I guess.

Solas: Even that example is too separate. A head can be removed from the body, however messy the process. To separate you and Justice… it would be like trying to take water from rain, light from the sun. What are you even seeking to remove?

Anders: Is it- strange to find that comforting?

Solas: Not at all.

____

Solas: It is not so unnatural, your merger with Justice.

Anders: I guess you could argue possessions are natural.

Solas: Even possessions were not always seen as you know them today.

Anders: What do you mean?

Solas: There has always been the tragedy of a mortal mind breaking against the corrupted nature of a spirit. But what you’ve done, joining your soul with a spirit, was a practice known among the ancient elves.

Anders: Elves... allowed themselves to be possessed?

Solas: A talented scholar may ask to be with one with a spirit of wisdom. While a devoted priest may beg an embodiment of faith. Such joinings were rare, but only because a spirit will not join with one that will harm its nature. For it to accept meant your drive was true, and for that it was seen as a great honor. 

Anders: I can’t tell you how badly I wish I could see this world.

Solas: They were called the somnlin. The Blood of Dreams. Our deepest passions given flesh. Justice believed in you, Anders. It still does.

Anders: I... thank you.

____

Solas: What you did in Kirkwall, I understand.

Anders: There are days now when I’m not sure I do.

Solas: There come times when an action is necessary, but we as mortals can only guess what action that may be, along the consequences it will carry.

Solas (Cont.): We cannot predict who it will truly help nor who it will hurt, even if we believe we do. All we can do is choose to act, or choose to wait and hope another will do so in our stead.

Anders: I had waited too long already.

Solas: And the bravery enough to admit it is a rare gift indeed.

____

(Bonus because it’s a radically different tone from the rest)

Solas: Is it true you escaped the circle seven times?

Anders: I like to say ten, but apparently it doesn’t count if they find you within the first half-hour.

Solas: You’ll have to tell me the stories soon.

Anders: Really I’d like your stories. An apostate all your life, surely you must’ve dodged a few templars.

Solas: Not so I’m afraid.

Anders: Really? Your whole life, not a single templar on your ass?

Solas: I have been asleep for most of it.

#Dragon Age #Dragon Age 2 #Dragon Age Inquisition #Solas #Fake Banter #DAI #I think I've picked at this as much as I could #Anders still sounds kinda shaky. mans is hard i can't explain it

[alexsoenomel]

Surprise (Sam Winchester x Reader fluff)

Request by @maddiebwrites : finding out you are pregnant with Sam’s kid

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Warnings: READER IS DRINKING, KNOWINGLY PREGNANT!!!!

Word count: 1828

Note: Thank you for the request Maddie. Hope you enjoy!

Like/ reblog or both if you like it :)

SHOUT OUT TO MY GIRL NATALIE FOR HELPING ME GET THIS FIC TO NOT SUCK!!! FOLLOW MY QUEEN SHE IS THE BEST AND HAS SOME GREAT WRITING SKILLSSSSSS @ambergoddess444​

It took three positive tests, two blue lines and a period that was 10 days late for the realization to hit you like a truck...You were pregnant.

It didn't seem real, especially because you were taking the pill regularly. You knew there was always a risk but you didn't think it would happen to you. You and Sam were always careful, especially because of the life you lived; bringing a child into this world, into your lives, it wasn't right. A child wouldn't stand a chance to have a hint of normalcy in its life, since your life was far from normal. Between mom and dad killing monsters and occasionally saving the world, doing math homework? Sam would probably teach the kid all about demon lore rather than algebra. How can a kid have a normal life when mom and dad were hunters?

You were looking at the three tests, stunned. Your heart was in your throat, trying to process what was right in front of you.

"No, it can't be....No." You mumbled and tossed the tests in the bin next to the toilet. "Fuck no."

How were you going to tell Sam? You never talked about having kids, you just thought it was automatically out of the question since having a boring, suburban life seemed like a fairytale at this point.

You couldn't take the thoughts rushing and haunting your mind so you went to the kitchen and poured yourself a glass of whiskey. One thing you knew, was when you didn't want to think, you would drink. Time stopped after the first sip, and after the second you decided to take the glass and the whole bottle and go back to your room. You completely shut down, scrolling through Tik Tok, sipping on whiskey until you could feel yourself slipping away from sobriety into a drunken state.

Sam was out fetching groceries since Dean came back last night at some ungodly hour, totally hammered, and ate everything in the fridge and passed out. He was still asleep and it was almost 3PM.

It wasn't unusual for your period to be late for five days max; sometimes stress would get the best of you. Being a hunter wasn't an easy job description, but it never occurred to you that it could happen. After five days passed, you bought three tests just in case, without Sam knowing of course.

Thank God you did.

Your eyes and ears didn’t even register the door of your room opening.

"(Y/N)?" Sam asked as his gaze went straight to the bottle on your nightstand. It was still somewhat full since by that point you only had two glasses and it was enough to get you drunk, since you haven’t had lunch yet.

You immediately put your phone down to look at him, taken aback by his presence. You had to tell him.

"Are you okay?" He knew something was wrong. He always knew. You have been together for a long time, he could read you like a book. He told you once, it was easy to see when you were distraught, your face structure would change and your eyes would have a specific glow or no glow at all. Even if you tried to hide it from him, you couldn't.

"Huh? Define okay." You slurred. He sat on the edge of the bed and you kissed his cheek. He was immediately struck by a strong smell of alcohol.

"Are you...drunk?"

"A little, yeah."

"What happened? Talk to me." He was worried and rightfully so. Your eyes were bloodshot as tears were just about to roll down your cheeks. You were holding everything back, trying to bury it deep inside of you, even though you knew you couldn't.

"I-I have a surprise for you," You started as you wiped away the first tear on your cheek. "And you ain't gonna like it."

"What? You're scaring me." Sam’s eyes were wide fixed on you as his face changed, from calm and collected to worried and about to panic. Lips slightly parted after he swallowed nervously, waiting for you to answer.  

You got up with the last bit of strength you had and went to the bathroom to get the tests out of the bin. Sam was frozen and silent. You sat next to him and gave him the three tests you took a couple of hours before.

"I'm pregnant, Sam." You confessed, feeling your stomach tightening as fear took over your whole body. You were still under the influence of alcohol, but sober enough to feel every emotion in you.

Sam was stunned. He was looking at the tests then at you, mouth slightly open, trying to find the words before a huge smile appeared on his face.

"How did we....I mean...." He stuttered trying to find the right words. "I never..."

"You know when we finished that case in San Diego, couple of weeks back? We all got drunk, Dean went to get laid and we had...drunk sex?"

"Yeah? Did I...?” Sam started fidgeting with the tests, checking them again to make sure every one of them was positive before looking back at you with a confused lost puppy look on his face.

"Yeah, I told you to. That's what I remember anyway. First time we came at the same time." Sam immediately blushed hearing those words. You took a sip of whiskey straight from the bottle, feeling the sting deep in your throat. It was strong but smooth.

That night was wild and a night to remember. Flashbacks started appearing in your mind, of you and Sam devouring each other with each kiss, hands all over each others’ skin, like you were teenagers again. You didn't remember much, but it was enough. That night was filled with lust and love so strong it would make anyone jealous.

"Huh, yeah." He smirked. "I still have the marks on my back..." He said, remembering how loud you were that night, how hot you were moaning his name over and over agai- "But wait, aren’t you still on the pill?"

"That's the best part. Yes I am." You laughed. "Yes, I fucking am."

"Hey, hey!" As you were about to take another sip of whiskey, Sam took the bottle from your hands. "No more!"

"Sam! Let me be drunk, I need to process this." You protested, trying to take the bottle from his hands, but he was quick enough to move his hand out of your reach.

"Not with alcohol, (Y/N)! With me!" His tone became slightly louder forcing you to hear him

He was right. He was always right. That's why you loved him so much. Every time you would feel like your mind was slipping away and you would try to get it back with unhealthy coping mechanisms, he would pull you back from it and vice versa. That's why you worked so well.

"Okay." You finally mumbled under your breath. "But what are we going to do? This life is not for a child."

"We never actually talked about having kids." He said and took your hand. His skin was always so warm, especially his hands.

"Yeah, and we have been together for what, 5 years?"

Sam chuckled. "7 in two months, (Y/N)."

You never really cared about anniversaries. You found them pathetic and unnecessary. After two years with him, you completely forgot when your anniversary was, but Sam didn’t. He liked memorising silly details about your relationship. He even remembered the exact date that you first went out, since your relationship started with one drunk kiss and a whole lot of moaning first.

"Seven fucking years and still, every time I look at you I feel like a teenager with a crush." Your confession made Sam smile, but you on the other hand were breaking down. You started crying, every emotion you were locking up inside began pouring out. You loved him so much, sometimes even more than yourself. He was your best friend, your rock, your everything. You couldn't imagine your life without him and you definitely didn't want to terminate this pregnancy. Even with the life you lived, you created this child with nothing but love you had for one another and it deserved a chance.

"Hey, (Y/N), it's going to be okay. I love you and we are in this together." He always knew his way with words. Always.

"Can we cuddle for a little bit, please?" You asked with a light sniffle.

Sam nodded and soon after, you were both under the blankets of the bed you shared, cuddling and him of course being the big spoon.

"You know I would never pressure you into doing something you don't want, right?" He said, placing a kiss on your shoulder.

"I know Sam. But I feel bad."

"Why?"

"I'm aware of the life we both live. I'm aware of everything, but at the same time I do want kids. I want kids with you."

You never actually said it since you never talked about it, but it was true. Growing up, you thought you would never have kids because you never met a person you trusted 100%. Not until you met Sam. Something in you shifted but at the same time it was clashing with your rational thoughts. WAS THAT KID GOING TO HAVE A GOOD LIFE?

"As crazy as this sounds, I also want the same thing with you. And even if you told me you didn't want to keep it, you know I don't have a right to dictate what you can and cannot do with your body?"

You smiled as you took his index finger into your hand as he was pulling you closer to him. It was a relief knowing he thought the same. "Yes I know."

The amount of respect he had for you, the love he constantly showed you with, all you could think was how lucky you were.

"Do you want a boy or a girl?" You asked him, genuinely curious.

"I just want a happy, healthy kid, with mom's temper and dad's humor."

"And Uncle Dean's ability to piss us off." You added, turning around to look at him. His eyes were glowing as he was looking back at you, staring into your soul with his beautiful hazel eyes. His eyes reminded you of two small ecosystems since every colour in them reminded you of trees and life.

You kissed him, feeling a light moan escape his mouth as he kissed back instantly.

"We are going to be parents." He said, still not fully comprehending everything.

"Imagine a mini you running around the bunker and eating Uncle Dean's pie."

"And telling Mommy that Daddy said yes to ice cream for dinner."

"You little shit you are not going to do that." You said messing up his hair a little bit.

"I won’t." He laughed.

"You and Dean are going to spoil this kid to no end. I just know it."

#sam winchester #sammy winchester #sam and dean #sam x y/n #sam x you #sam winchester x you #sam winchester x y/n #sam winchester x reader #sam winchester x reader fluff #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural fic #supernatural fluff #supernatural drabble #spn #spn fluff #spn drabble #spn fic #spn fanfic

[royalsweetteaa]

Can you please do a CE characters reactions to reader announcing she’s pregnant?

YES 😩 - I’ll also add how they act after the news are announced because I feel like that will differentiate them better.

18+ ONLY | MINORS DNI

WARNING - the following contains: pregnancy, mention of sex and breeding kink.

Steve Rogers

When you first bring forward the news, he’s over the moon with eagerness.

“Sweetheart, are you serious? Oh my god, this is amazing! I’m going to be a father!”

He has been waiting for this very moment for so long, and you’ll have to deal with his constant strokes around your belly for the next 9 months. Even when you aren’t showing, he can’t seem to stop touching your stomach, because to him it’s a reminder of the bundle of joy it’ll grow to be soon. He is just in full amazement of how you’re glowing when your baby bump starts so show, and he’ll remind you as such.

“Have I told you how amazing you are? Keeping my child, safe and healthy in your womb…you’ll make an amazing mother. I love you so much.”

He will spend all his time with you at the end of your second trimester, taking you out for slow and nice walks in a quiet park while planning on what names you should consider naming your child, and talking about your plans on moving to a nice and secured family house where you can raise your child in peace.

Ransom Drysdale

I think Ransom would be a bit shocked, especially if it wasn’t planned.

“Wait, what? Are you sure? Well damn…- wait no, - I mean that’s great news darling, m’just processing it….”

He’s aware of the heavy responsibility that comes with raising a child and he is unsure of himself if he’s capable of being a good father. You’ll have that talk where you soothe and assure him that everything will be okay, and that he will be a wonderful father if he’s willing to put in the effort.

“Well, if you’re up to raising a brat into the Drysdale family, count me in. M’sure we will manage. Besides, I’m willing to bet you’ll look fucking sexy with your tummy all round with my child.” He will add with seductiveness.

Ransom will take care of your needs, both physical and sexual needs at his best. He will hire maids to take over the chores you used to do, and as for your other needs - it’s left in Ransom’s good hands. Your pregnancy period will also be Ransom’s journey of discovering he has a pregnancy/breeding kink.

Johnny Storm

Johnny would be taken by surprise, and wouldn’t know how to feel right after being given the news.

“You’re pregnant? For real? That’s…wow, I don’t know what to say. Not that it’s bad news or anything, I just didn’t expect it to happen so soon…”

Behind his somewhat excited facade, he’s actually really scared of parenthood. In the beginning, he will resolve into being distant only days after knowing, and go on his own adventures for a temporary escape. Ben, Reed and his sister, Susan will call him out on it as it goes noticed and they will tell him he needs to man up. He’ll realize he’s in the wrong for not being there for you as much as he should be and he will be of full support after the end of your first trimester, dedicating himself for the full life commitment.

“I’ll be here more from now on, I promise, babe. I’m sorry I was distant, - I was being a coward. I love you and can’t wait to meet the little guy.” He’ll say softly, while stroking your baby bump. As you spend more time together, the more excited he is to be a dad - especially since there’s a possibility for his child being born with powers similar to his own.

Ari Levinson

Ari is thrilled when he receives the news, mostly for your behalf because he knows you have wanted to be a mom for some time. He hasn’t had the space in his thoughts to think about kids due to how busy he is being a part of these secret operations of the operation brothers, but he’s happy to know he has something to look forward to.

“No way! You’re pregnant? Now that is some exciting news, sugar!“

While he has huge passion for his line of work, he’s more than willing to take a small break and take care of you during your first pregnancy. He’s also eager to be a father again, with your child nonetheless. Still, he’ll have to be away sometimes but he’ll come back sooner than before.

“I’ll be gone every now and then, but I can’t wait to see you each time, glowing more with our child. You’ll look absolutely stunning, muffin. Call me and update me always, okay? That way I have rest assured over yours and the little one’s well-being.”

Jake Jensen

Jake would be reacting with most physical excitement. When you tell him, you’ll witness his eyes pop out, almost coming through his glasses and his mouth agape. He can’t even remain seated as he rises up from his seat in anticipation.

“What?! We’re having a baby?? Holy shit! - sorry, I’m just - I’m so freaking happy right now! We’re gonna have a baby! We need to celebrate, babe!”

You’ll throw a baby shower and invite his friends, the losers, and later throw a gender reveal party and everything. Jake’s all about going full out on pregnancy celebrations because he thinks they’re fun to arrange while you wait these 9 months due. He’ll buy lots of toys meant for 5+ years kids because he’s so over enthusiastic about it.

“Man, I can’t even contain myself - I know the baby hasn’t even come out yet but we need to buy these action toys. I mean look how cool they are - We should buy them and they’ll be able to play with them after passing year two or something.”

Andy Barber

You were more than nervous to tell Andy as you didn’t know how he would react when he already has a child from his previous marriage. As you tell him the news, he doesn’t react overly excited but far from disappointed either - rather his face will soften with adoration.

“Aww, honey…this is wonderful. We’re finally going to be parents of our very own baby.”

The two of you are already off shopping for baby clothes and supplies because Andy likes being prepared. You haven’t even ended the second trimester and Andy’s already doing arrangements of turning the guest room into your baby’s room. He doesn’t let you lay down a finger as he wants you to keep all your energy till when you give birth.

“Sweetie, put the pan down. I’ll handle dinner. Just relax on the couch, keep our baby comfortable and I’ll soon come over to you with your favorite dish. I’ll make it’s just the way you like it.” He’ll assure you.

Note from author: fuck, to be pregnant with any of these men’s child. Sounds like a dream. - anyway thank you for the suggestion anon! ♥️

Hearts & Reblogs are appreciated! <3

#cevans characters #chris evans character fanfiction #ari levinson #ransom drysdale #steve rogers #johnny storm #jake jensen #andy barber #chris evans #chris evans x reader #jake jensen x reader #andy barber x reader #johnny storm x reader #ari levinson x reader #steve rogers x reader

[shakespearenews]

Playing Richard III for the Royal Shakespeare Company last year, Arthur Hughes found himself hyperventilating from the “headrush” of his death scene, surrounded by the ghosts of men he has murdered. “The end is a real acceleration,” Hughes says. “I was barefoot, covered in armour, ranting, raving, running, fighting. It ratchets up and up until he’s dead – and then it just stops.”

Later, the play’s abrupt ending would catch up with him. “Some nights we’d go to the Dirty Duck, the pub over the road, and I’d be like, ‘God, I really need a pint after that.’ But I soon found out that wasn’t the thing to do.” His head was too noisy. “I’d never played a character where I needed to ‘de-role’ before, but I had to create a ritual to take it all off.” He would sit on a cushion repeating gentle mantras to himself, shedding the angst that builds to Richard’s death. “I just needed some stillness. I found that if I didn’t do that, I wouldn’t sleep well.”

...

For Josette Simon, getting into the role of Cleopatra at the RSC in 2017 was a far longer and more involved process than getting out of it: she found her mindset would change daily at around 3pm. Cleopatra takes her own life with a poisonous asp. “She’s right in the middle of the line,” Simon says. “So I thought she should die with her eyes open.”

Doing so upright in her throne, directly facing the audience, was not the easiest dramatic choice. “I made a rod for my own back,” she admits, “because I then had to spend the whole of Charmian’s speech with my eyes open, not blinking.” In rehearsal, her eyes would start streaming in seconds. “But I trained the muscles around my eyes. Every day, I would sit incrementally longer with my eyes like that. Occasionally in production I would feel a tear coming and I’d think, ‘Come on Charmian, get on with the speech!’” Today, Simon says with a sly smile, she believes she could still win any staring contest. “I’ve got it down to a fine art.”

#shakespeare #william shakespeare #theater #theatre #death #dying #onstage #richard iii #Arthur Hughes #josette simon #cleopatra #antony and cleopatra #the only kind they do believe in #staring contest

[samcscreams]

Got this idea randomly and went with it.

It’s late at night in early May. Sam finds herself at a party once again. She knows she’s gonna leave this god forsaken town soon just not sure yet of the day. But that guilt is eating her alive and the liquor is numbing all the right spots. Soon the world around her is growing dark. She knows a blackout at this point in her life.

Tara can’t sleep. This isn’t new for her nore is the crashing sound coming from Sam’s room. She looks over at her bedroom clock, 3:06am it reads. Tara knows better than to go check on her sister. As she’s probably in another drunken stupor and will yell at Tara to get out. But tonight feels different, the urge to check out weighed her fear of getting yelled at.

“Knock Knock, I heard a crash is everything okay?” Tara said as she slowly pushed open the door. The sight of Sam startled Tara. Usually she’s up and around stumbling to take her clothes off or she’s already passed out on top of her bed. But this time Sam was curled up in a ball by her closet door. She could hear sniffing as if Sam had been crying. God, Tara couldn’t remember the last time she heard Sam cry. “Hey what’s wrong?” Tara said as she rushed to Sam’s side. Sam looking up at Tara as she drunkenly stammered out “Get away from me. I’ll just hurt you please go” Tara now confuses asked “how could you hurt me?” “I… i… hurt my family.” Sam unaware of what she was saying or doing continues. “My mom hatess me. She can’t even look at me.” Tara now more concerned than confused realized her sister must be blacked out again and not realize who she is. It’s happened a few times before but not like this. It’s as if Sam’s talking to a stranger. “I mean for fucks sake my big mouth made Tara’s dad leave and all my mom can see is him when she looks at me, a monster.” Tara shifting back away from Sam while trying to process the information she’s just heard, asks ”Tara’s dad?” “Yep he left when I blabbed off about my mom cheating and having me” Sam said half way between sleep and awake. Tara now in shock just sits next to her sister staring blankly ahead. “Want to hear the most fucked up part” Sam asks as she giggles and hiccups to herself. Tara doesn’t respond. “Shhh don’t tell anybody but my real dad is Billy Loomis” Sam stammered out as she collapses onto Tara causing Tara to snap out of her trance like state. “Sam. Come on Sam. Sammy please. stay with me” Tara shakes her sister then runs to grab a glass of water, a wet towel, and a bucket just incase. When she returned Sam was half crying half laughing while laying on the ground. “Come on drink for me” Tara said as she tried to sit Sam up and held the glass to her sisters mouth. “No” she said with a pout “Sam” Tara demanded. The older sister was taken a back by the sternness in her sisters voice. After she finished her water Tara helped her sister into bed.

Before Sam fully passed out she let out one last truth “who could ever love me. The daughter of a serial killer” and she was out leaving Tara alone. If Tara couldn’t sleep before she definitely wouldn’t be able to do so now.

Tara stayed in Sams room the rest of the night making sure if she threw up that she could help. By morning Tara wondered if Sam would remember anything she said. Tara wanted more than anything to talk to a sober Sam to understand if everything she said was true and that’s why her sister had grown so troubled and distant in the past five year.

Not to much longer Sam started to stir. She woke to a pounding headache and blurred vision. She almost missed her younger sister sitting in the corner of her room. “Why the hell are you in here. Get out” she growled. Sam never intended to be so mean she just thought it would be easier for Tara if she hated her. “Good morning to you too” Tara quipped back. “I put some water and Advil on your night stand. Just wanted to make sure you didn’t die in your sleep throwing up on yourself” she said as she walked to Sam’s bedroom door. Sheepishly Sam whimpered out a “Thank you” “Oh and Sam” Tara now hanging in Sam’s door way “yes” she replied “I could” Tara said “you could what?” Sam asked confused “Love you. Even if he’s your real dad. I still love you” Tara said as she exited leaving Sam wide eyed and shocked. The weight of her packed bags hiding under her bed was now almost suffocating. Her mind racing with how’s and why’s but it doesn’t changed the new found fact that Tara knows.

————————————————————————

This concept is so interesting to me. Gahhh so many questions so many possibilities! It all changes or maybe nothing does. 🤔

#sam carpenter #scream #tara carpenter #scream franchise #samantha carpenter #scream vi #Tara finds out #AU: Tara Knows

[oathofoaksart]

sandwich a la speedster

Perching her head on interlaced fingers, Lei watched Wally line his knife across the top of his sandwich.

He kept making microscopic adjustments to the blade, his tongue poking out of the corner of his mouth from the effort. One millimeter left, two right. Finally after a few more rounds of the kitchen hokey-pokey, Lei said, “Oh my God, Wally. Cut it.”

“Almooost…” Wally kept his eyes still fixed on his sandwich, but didn’t move any faster than he had been.

Lei gestured vaguely at the set up strewn over the kitchen counter– half a fridge’s worth of ingredients she was pretty sure weren’t meant to be together. “You could’ve been done ages ago.”

“We’re not going anywhere,” Wally said, finally sawing through the first layer of his triple decker. “And I happen to like the process.”

“Well.” Lei snipped without any real fire, “Like the process faster.”

He laughed and sucked a bit of mustard off his thumb, his sandwich now cut perfectly down the middle. “There’s merit in taking things slow, y’know, have a little respect for the art.”

“It’s three meats on rye.”

“It’s the human experience.” Wally said with a gleam in his eye.

“Oh-kay.” She flicked a strand of hair over her shoulder, but she didn’t hide the lacing laughter in her tone.

“Our ancestors have been stacking stuff between baked pieces of grain since the dawn of civilization.” He said, tapping the counter in emphasis, “Every sandwich is our connection to our forebearers. Our history. Our…”

Wally looked out somewhere beyond Lei’s head, but judging by his faltering expression he’d exhausted his muse.

“Essence of life.” Lei suggested.

“Essence of life.” Wally agreed as he wrapped a half of his sandwich in a plastic sheet– taking care of folding it neatly– before handing it to her.

“I’m out of gold leaf.” He said when she hesitated, “Sorry, Miss I’ve-Got-A-Personal-

Michelin-Star-Chef.”

Lei rolled her eyes and snatched it from his hand, spinning the seat of her chair as to turn her back on him. She shot a smile over her shoulder, “It’s two personal Michelin chefs and their respective crews, thank you.”

“Oh, gee. My bad.” He said around a mouthful.

Lei studied her half of the sandwich. It didn’t look half-bad. Sandwiches weren't her go-to food the way it was for Wally– who swore up and down were acceptable for all three meals of the day– but she’d been forced to miss lunch earlier.

That was the excuse she gave herself when she took a sniff, quickly followed by a bite. She hummed appreciatively, turning back around to face Wally.

“I’ll eat it if you don’t want it.” He said, reaching out for it, only for his response to be a swift slap of his hand. “Ow?” Wally clamped his sandwich between his teeth, rubbing at the sting.

“Don’t be dramatic.” Lei said quickly, making sure she took another extra big bite. She was hungrier than she thought she’d been and she didn’t like how Wally thought she was too good for ‘normal’ food.

He was right, of course, but she didn’t like him thinking she wouldn’t take something he gave her.

And, honestly, it wasn’t a bad sandwich. A little heavy-handed on the mustard and she wasn’t a fan of the brown flecks on the lettuce. Cheddar wasn’t her favorite cheese. But all in all, she could almost say she liked it.

“Alright, West.” She said, “Maybe you have something there.”

He snorted. By some miracle —likely because he still hadn’t found a way to safely dislocate his jaw— Wally hadn’t stuffed his half into his mouth. “Jimmy John’s would go to war with Subway for me.”

“I meant your little ‘human connection’ thing.” Lei peeled away more of the plastic from her sandwich, surprised she’d already eaten half way through it. “I can’t remember the last time someone made a sandwich for me for the sake of it. It’s nice.”

Wally swallowed with a little more effort than Lei was comfortable with. He lifted up his remaining bite in the air, it took Lei a minute to realize he was proposing a toast, “May our bread be the foundation of a greater We…Bologna, an extension of our heartstrings…and the weird, kinda green thing that was chillin’ in the back of the pantry our bond that lives through time.”

Lei closed her eyes, choosing to ignore that little tidbit. She lifted her own remaining piece of dinner. It wasn’t much smaller than Wally’s. “Hallelu.”

They tapped their bites and ate.

—

it’s the way i’ve had this sketch for over a year. and it let it be known lei expects wally to make her sandwiches from then on.

#young justice oc #yj oc #dc oc #kid flash x oc #wally west x oc #yj kitsune #leiko ara #gar’s oc #gar’s art #gar’s writing #wallei #oathofoaks

[wonderlandleighleigh]

1, 2

(This took an unexpected turn)

1973

It turns out Lenny doesn’t want to do standup so much anymore, so much as he wants to write.

And Susie gets it. The guy’s been in and out of state-run treatment places where they scrambled up his brains with electro shock therapy and more, weirder drugs, and then the workhouse where rumor has it he got the shit kicked out of him for being too mouthy. his lung collapsed apparently at one point before he OD’d that one time.

His shit is fucked, and it makes total sense he wouldn’t have much of a burning desire to get up in front of a room full of people anymore.

Fucking sad as it is. The guy is a fucking genius.

But he’s written a play, and Susie sits down to read it one night. She figures it’ll probably be a little overwrought. A little angry. A little over the top.

She’s wrong.

She’s so fucking wrong, because it’s so fucking beautiful there’s fuckin’ water leaking out of her eyes.

It’s 1973 and she’s crying over Lenny fuckin’ Bruce’s melancholy, understated screenplay about addiction and life and fatherhood and justice and what the fuck.

She finishes at two in the morning, and immediately picks up the phone.

“Oh my god who’s in jail?” Midge’s voice tumbles down the line.

“Get here now,” Susie snaps. “Get here right fuckin’ now, Midge.”

“Susie? What is it, what’s wrong, what happened?”

“Lenny wrote a play and it’s fuckin’ gorgeous and I can’t sit here and process it alone.”

“He wrote a play?” Midge asks, and she sounds proud.

“Get here.”

She hangs up and waits, and it takes Midge about a half hour and then another little while to read the thing, and Susie watches her, sipping whiskey as she waits.

And when she’s done, Midge bursts into fucking tears. Not the leaky quiet ones Susie had.

Real fuckin’ tears.

“Right? It’s so good!”

“It is,” Midge squeaks out. “It’s so good. But- But I- Susie, he- I was so worried that he wasn’t really in there anymore, you know? Like after everything that happened to him, he was just...I mean he’s still Lenny. But he’s so quiet now, and he doesn’t laugh as much anymore, and I just- I was so sad that I thought my friend was gone, but he’s still in there.” She hugs the script to her chest. “We have to get this made.”

Susie nods in agreement as she tries to trade Midge the glass of booze for the screenplay, but the younger woman doesn’t let it go.

And she knows whatever happens between her dearest friend and the mess of a man who wrote a fucking masterpiece, she’s not going to be able to stop it.

“We will,” Susie says. “We’ll get it made.”

*****

Lenny wanders into her office the next day and smiles at Dinah. They’ve developed a strange little friendship where if Dinah knows Lenny is coming she gets him a cherry turnover and if Lenny is coming into the office he grabs her a knish from the street vendor down the road.

They trade, and Lenny takes a bite of the flaky pastry as he takes a seat on the couch, waiting patiently for his turn.

Things are good. He has a quiet apartment in the Village, and his kid is doing good in school, and he cooks dinner for her and he mostly writes opinion pieces and plays script doctor or ghost writer and makes pretty good money doing it.

No one in the industry really wants to touch him. He can’t believe Susie offered to rep him, considering everything. “Degenerate junkie” gets thrown around a lot, even though he’s three years clean, but what can you do?

“Get in here, you tall fuck!” Susie calls.

Lenny shrugs at Dinah and stands again, stepping into the office, finding not just Susie, but Midge. He grins around a mouthful of turnover and offers her a bite, but Midge just reaches up and brushes a crumb from the corner of his mouth.

“We read it,” Susie tells him.

He swallows. “We?” he asks, looking from one woman to the other. “Is it bad? Have you called me in to tell me it smells like unwashed dick cheese in person?”

“No,” Midge assures him. “but unwashed dick cheese is so fucking vivid and I’m stealing it,” she teases.

“It’s not like I’m using it,” Lenny chuckles. “Be my guest.”

“It’s fuckin’ good, Lenny,” Susie tells him. “And we’re gonna get it fuckin’ made. No matter fuckin’ what.”

“Yeah?” he asks, his eyebrows raising, his eyes lighting up a little.

“Yes,” Susie says. “Sit. Let’s talk it out.”

And he does.

#fic #au #tmmm #Midge Maisel #Fictional Lenny #Susie Myerson