@rebootsnake A few possible scenarios here:

You might earn yourself a favor (?).

It might demand a more extravagant gift from you in exchange for a favor (?).

It might lead you to a powerful entity with a distant stare and a pretty mirror who will grant you your heart's desires for the low low price of something such as [insert the most precious thing you've ever known] [insert the most precious thing you will never know].

I think tonight, I’ll repeat why I think Edelgard is a great character.

Remember the phrase “would you kindly…”? It’s from Bioshock, a seemingly harmless little turn of phrase that, in reality, is a hypnotic trigger for your character. It doesn’t seem like much, but the game hammers it’s importance into your skull with it’s reveal. Your character has not been in control, you’ve been a puppet all throughout your vacation in Rapture. It also serves as a deconstruction of video games, how we don’t question the quests we’ve been given or even our own actions. We’re told “hey, you’re the good guy. Go do this.”

Edelgard does the exact same thing, just without the brainwashing…possibly. There may be something to her Crest of Flames. But all she does is feed the player her narrative. How rotten the world is, why it is, what needs to be changed and how she wants to do something about it. It starts sounding like this more traditional RPG tale, Edelgard against an evil Church.

But, as the devs said, the game world was built around supporting Silver Snow, it was built around the story where it turns out Edelgard is actually the villain the entire time. And while the execution is frustrating, to say the least, it does tie into the intent behind the game as well as it’s themes. Namely the Buddhist stuff I’m always harping on, how Byleth isn’t supposed to be led astray by their own ignorance while the player is supposed to immerse themselves into the setting.

Byleth is supposed to be a bodhisattva figure, being tempted through their attachment to Edelgard but ultimately not succumbing to it. The attachment is the big deal here, as it’s through it that Byleth can be led astray. The game references the story behind the Banner of Victory through Silver Snow’s save icon, Byleth’s flag which the devs called the game’s real Fire Emblem representing the faith people put in Byleth. Going down this route is framed as changing the story.

But is also means that the player is going down a path not supported by the world building. That they believe something else, and as a result mow down everyone in Edelgard’s way. This was stated to be the intended them of the route, like it’s charging that the player didn’t pay attention to the story and world. Yet at the same time, there’s still the little hints of world and character building that tells us this isn’t the heroic route we thought it would be. It’s all in the little details, the contradictions and the implications, and they all add up.

If the player doesn’t pay attention, Edelgard will play them like a damn fiddle and she doesn’t have to say “would you kindly.” She’s a villain who can convince people to join her in order to supposedly save the world. And if the player still isn’t paying attention, they’ll believe it.

Going back to Bioshock for a second, by the time you’re given your first moral choice (save or harvest the Little Sister), you’ve been in Rapture for a while. You’ve heard the ideology the city was founded on, seen it’s ruined state, and what the people have become. You’re still piecing things together, but you’ve seen enough. You’re given the choice, Harvest and kill the Little Sister for more ADAM, making yourself stronger by sacrificing others, or saving the Little Sister at the cost of that additional ADAM. The latter option goes against what Andrew Ryan founded the city on, you’re rejecting that ideology and telling him to shove his copy of Atlas Shrugged where the sun don’t shine. Or you buy into it, putting yourself above others like he would have wanted. Not simply a “good” or “evil” choice like many make it out to be.

By the time you’re given the option to join Edelgard, you should have seen enough already to see why it’s a bad idea.

And I just find that’s a pretty cool concept, even if it does weaken the recruited characters if you really examine it. Plus she looks like the Queen of Hearts out of an Alice in Wonderland production post-timeskip. Real “off with her head” vibes.

Sermon 10

Psalms 5:12 reads, "Surely, LORD, you bless the righteous; you surround them with your favor as with a shield."

Does this mean that the righteous are protected from harm? On a certain level, it definitely does. After all, a shield is used as the metaphor.

Yet surely, it doesn't mean that the righteous are protected from actual physical harm. That's empirically evident to not be the case. And even the Bible describes, in excruciating detail in The Book of Job, how bad things can often happen to good people. "Rain falls on the just and the unjust alike," as they say.

So if the righteous aren't protected from car crashes, man-eating lions or even the rain, what are they protected from? How are they blessed?

We can strike "monetarily" off the list of options. If the many, many stories about righteous people like Noah, Moses and David losing all that they have aren't proof enough, God Himself states it during His many teachings as Jesus. Whether telling people to ditch their attachments to closing, houses or livelihoods, Christ doesn't count material success as a blessing. Besides, didn't He explicitly say that it would be easier for a camel to pass through a needle's eyes than for a rich person to get into Heaven?

God doesn't just dismiss material success as a blessing, He's downright against it.

If it isn't health and it isn't wealth, what is God protecting when He shields the righteous?

He's protecting them from the mental anguish and sick cycle carousel of sin, that's what He's protecting the righteous from. They can go through life knowing that if they follow His way, they don't have to suffer the isolation, doubt and agonizing obsession those who focus on other things do.

By "other things," I would count the material success that we talked about above. Whether it's keeping up with the Joneses, biting your fingernails from FOMO or simply succumbing to "compare and despair" on social media, God protects the righteous from such things. They are told to actively avoid material prosperity, to dispense with it entirely and to banish thoughts of it from their mind.

The same goes for other appetites. Hungry? God will feed you, much like He does the birds of the field, He says, but He doesn't promise you a prime rib dinner. You should eat to live, not live to eat.

And you shouldn't seek to glut your appetite for sex, either. Have fun with it, enjoy it, but never, ever obsess over it. Certainly, avoid it when it comes to aiming at others who have been taken. God's opinion on sex for pleasure is kept to Himself, but He sure is not fond of lusting after others or committing adultery.

In essence, He shields us from all the mental and emotional impurities that afflict us, today as much as ever. There is a constant barrage on the modern mind, urging it to want to buy, venerating youth and lust, and pushing it to worry and despair over success. None of those things matter to the righteous. Where others see pipe dreams, the righteous see pitfalls.

It's the word of God, and the way of His example, that guides us around those pitfalls. We need not worry, because how to live well is all spelled out right there. The example of Christ, and the word of God in the Bible, inform us how to live protected from all the agonies of the modern age: The anxieties, the self loathing, the inadequacies, insatiability and ennui.

He tells us to stop worrying about what's on Amazon or in that boutique shop window. He tells us to look over your social media with love of others, if at all, and not to compare or judge, or even care about Cadillac margaritas, trips to the French Riviera and Taylor Swift tickets. He tells us to obey the commandments that keep us out of trouble, one of which is to avoid lusting over someone who's in a relationship.

More than all those, He tells us to let go and live the plan He has for us. He's given us the instructions on how to walk His path. We do so knowing that we're protected from the doubts and downfalls that come from straying off of it.

Hizashi and Aizawa kidnapping a young teenage girl, and her bonding and quickly finding comfort with Hizashi, leaving Aizawa to awkwardly attempt at being super soft and all the more gentle to his sensitive little girl, his heart panging with pain every time she flinches or cowers away from him. “You don’t need to be scared of me, kitten.. please”

your little acts of favoritism weren’t necessarily intentional, you hated both of them. they were your brothers teachers, and whoop dee doo, they kidnapped you. but... you liked hizashi more.

it was just something about him that made you believe he was some form of comfort item, probably because he wasnt brooding, and didnt have a mean face, and he was the first human yud ever seen in this place, that all combined into one and he became your rock, your shoulder to cry on. he was just... so nice, although his quirk was loud, somehow he managed to speak softly with you. it was such a bright contrast to at home where two firey blondes always scream at each other, and your father tries to calm it down.

on your first night ever here, you had tried to jump out the window, and were captured by the thick scarves you once admired, hed lectured you, yelled at yiuu even, all you could see were those red eyes of his, and hear his voice. and he scared you, he scared you so much. i guess it justtranslates to now, first impressions are everything, and to you, he looked like a big scary man who would yell at you.

eventually, you stopped caring about how you hated him, or how you wanted to leave, as you clearly never were. so, instead of glaring at them, or crying, you accepted the fact that he was taking care of you. hizashi, hizashi was taking care of you... aizawa though? no way in hell, he was just so... you'd never seen him with a smile, he never tried to talk to you, he just kinda watched you, and it freaked you out, at some point you started believing he was trying to kill you, don't even ask how you came up with that conclusion.

you just couldn't manage to warm up to hi as you'd done so quickly with hizashi, and it showed. you were always tense when alone with him, like he was going to jump out at you any second and stab you, you didnt talk to him , sometimes you felt so anxious around him that you would outright start crying, shaking in some form of fear, or hide yourself under a blanket. although hizashi was proud that you loved him so much, he knew that this was hurting his husband, that his own little girl was scared of him.

so he would always try to coax you into doing things with him, saying things like "can your papa come and help" or "how about we have papa do this with you while I make lunch?", just trying to get him included so you would feel just as comfortable around him as you were with his own self. Sometimes he just left the room to let you have alone time with him. He’d even lectured his husband about how he always looked angry, and that he has to smile form time to time, and not the creepy “I’m gonna kill a villain” smile.

And so Aizawa started trying, not trying to be like hizashi, even that was too much for him, but trying to be nicer, he was a gentle person when he wanted to be, so this came with ease for him, he would tuck you in at night, read you stories, hold you if you cried, feed you, help you bathe (which you usually liked hizashi to do, and in general, inserted himself as a gentle roger in your life. You would expect taht this would work, that because he was so nice to you, because he was so sweet like hizashi, you would accept him as your father.

But nope! Again, first impressions are everything to you, and now, he was written off as the villain of you story, now, you jsut ran off to papa whenever he was around, and didn’t even give him the chance to hang around you, it just made it worse honestly, because now, not only did he look scary, but he also looked fake, which is never good. Every time he would try to if you, you would clutch onto hizashi for dear life, acting like his hand would do nothing but burn you.

Tears would cloud your vision, and he would pulle back, not wanting to cause you any more pain, and jsut stare in. Pure jealousy at his husband, who cooed and gave you a hug.and guess what? You hugged him back, and hid yourself in his chest, willingly, without a fight, without a tear, instead with a smile, most of the times mic wouldn���t interfere, wbatigg ns this to everyone a safe space for you, a place where you should naturally do things, but sometimes, he would give you little bushes int he right direction. Like disappearing completely for my he house so you’ll be forced to talk to Aizawa.

This is one of those times.

Yo been wandering the house for about ten minutes now, waking up form a nap, to find mic absent from his usual place in the rocking chair at your bedside. It was a little after lunchtime, and they’d only given you a small cup of fruit for breakfast (intentional, from mic), you were fairly hungry, and usually he was there to give you food, but you had no idea where he was, you had heard the… other one on the phone in their shared office, but you did not want to talk to him right now.

Aizawa could tell you were awake by the fact that all of the cats were meowing like crazy, and little pattering footsteps had followed his hearing around, mic had left abruptly, probably some little plan of mischief again, he was hizashi after all. He was just waiting for you to either 1: go back to bed, or 2: come to him for help. Mic had specifically told him to follow these rules for after nap time, so he did. And grew progressively more worried as over twenty minutes, trying to read through his students grading work, too distracted by the urge to go find you to accomplish anything.

His worries dissipated though when he saw your little head poking through the door, cat in hand, confused and tired looking, small tears beginning to prick th corners of your eyes, little sniffling sounds left you. His wha specked up form the desk, you’d given up walking around the whole house, your restarting had slowly pent up, you couldn’t manage to find him, and you were so hungry.

“Oh- hey honey, I didn’t know you were up. Do you need something?” He questioned, smiling intently at you, you just inched back into the door frame, breathing heavier by the moment, your hands shook and your head felt like it was going to explode at any point. Youbcontenoajted runnign back to your room and waiting till mic came out where you could hear him, but your stomach grumbled, reminding you how hungry you really are.

“I’m- im looking for daddy. Where is he.” You spoke, a very hushed tone overtook your words, making them almost inaudible for him. His face sunk slowly, he tougher you were actually gonna come for him, but the he remembered taht patience is key, and that he shouldn’t get mad, because it is t your fault taht you’re just a little sensitive, too fragile to handle more than one attachment, he gets it. He jsut at least wanted you to look at him, instead did your little feet, I’m Ayer if you could meet his eyes the. You would see how much he loves you.

“Oh, he left a. Little while ago. Is there something you need from him? Your papa can give him a call if you want, you could even talk to him!” He exclaimed excitedly, plastering that happy smile across his face to seem more inviting, liek mic had told him to do. He stood out of his chair, rounding up the papers and putting them in his file folders.you tried to sink back furthers, almost disappearing behind the doorway, you shook your head aggressively, almost running off, then yet again, your stomach made another noise, and forced you to stay.

“I- no. I’m- im hungry-“ you spluttered, not caring if it was embarrassing that you were stuttering so much, you just wanted food. And calling mic would just get you a lecture on how you could’ve just asked your papa, the same thing would happen whenever you went to uncnecesary lengths to avoid the man, your daddy would make sure you knew that it made him feel bad, while you’d at there bored. Not caring, at all.

“Oh- well you should’ve told me sooner kitten, if I’d known I would be up already. Cmon, let’s go to the kitchen, your daddy made you some food earlier” he spoke, rising from his chair slowly, you cowered slightly as he walked over, clutching the little kitten right to you for comfort, he mewed and snuggled closer, completely asleep. The man sighed when he saw you backing away from his grasp, he knew you were still scared. But he was just so impatient… he was tired of waiting, he wanted to hold you, even if it was jsut foena few minutes. He needed it feel you there with him.

Is he acted quickly, moving in a matter of seconds, he swooped his arm under your leg, and hooked his other around your torso, pulling you straight up into his grasp. Youu huh froze, his hands felt cold as ice on your skin, like they were burning you, immediately after he started walking, it snapped you out of it and you threw a fit. You dig your fingernails into his skin, and kicked and flailed in a panic, still trying to keep the little kitten in your lap safe. A full blown panic washed over you, clogging all your senses.

The dam holding back tears form your eyes crashed, and immediately you were sobbing, biting at his shoulder to let you go, he tried to rub your back to calm you down a bit, but just made it worse, as his hands felt like living anxiety creeping up and down your spine. He didn’t know what to do, let you ride it out, andkk no possibly have you get sick because of how much your crying in an empty stomach? Or let you down and go straight back to square one.

Your veined felt like pure ice had flooded in them, and it felt liek someone was repeatedly jabbing you in the head with tiny needes, fear was jsut so prominent in your sense, it overcame you, and made you whimper and scream.

“Whoah, breath for me alright? I just want to hold you. I’m not going to hurt you okay? I would never hurt you. Kitten… you don’t have to be scared of me” he spoke, trying to keep a proper computers, he wanted to cry with you, he wasn’t a very soft or emotional man but honestly, he was so upset with himself already, this was jsut pushing him for the edge. You cried, and cried, at some point you weren’t even crying and screaming at him, more with him. He held you close, you’d stopped the struggle almost five minutes ago, letting him hold you. It was odd. It almost felt… nice.

“I-I’m sorry. I’m being stupid again” You alien through your remaining little hiccups, shove my your face into his shirt, smelling the woody scent he carried around with him. He cooed, letting you hide yourself from him, savouring this soft moment was of top priorirty in his head… you jsut looked so sweet, so different from those harsh cries that would sound usually whenever he came around.

Who would think, shouts aizawas hand couldn’t feel nice? The same ones that had just been burning you, the ones that made you scream, felt like a breeze on a spring day, he actually felt warm, he felt like happiness, like contentment.

“No hon, it’s not stupid. Your scared. I know that, we all get scared and it’s not a bad thing, I love you, I really, really love you kitten. Just know that” he continued on with his little speech, leaving down to kiss you in the forehead, Jsut to be suprised when you didn’t flinfh, you were too tired to be scared; and too hungry, plus, he was really warm, the cat had pretty much snuggled up to him already, who says you shouldn’t.

“I- um- I love you… to?” You spoke, more of a question than anything, you’d spent so long Harding him that you didn’t know if you even could love him, it didn’t even feel possible, then again, you litterally cling to hizashi like a koala, and your mental state has relaly said “swoopity swoop” and scattered itself everywhere. Maybe having two comfort items was actually better than one… huh.

“Well, let’s go eat then. All taht crying probably made you tired, I’ll let you watch a movie in my office, you can watch pinto again, I know you love taht one. Cmon, let’s go” he spoke, and started walking again, you cuddled closer to him as he did, smiling slightly at the warmth. Hizashi was very extravagant, exiting, and hyper, this man felt very cool, calm, it was such a dark contrast, but it worked so well. You jsut… you Jsut liked it.

Well… now we’ll just have to wait and see who’s the favorite

———————————————————————————————————

Thank you for requesting! It was super fun to write and had me feeling super happy when I finished :)

I’m thinking about doing yandere todoroki family asks, because I’m litterally in love with @i-cant-sing one… so, requests are open for those if you want to put them in (please do I’m begging)

Anywho, have the most wonderful to days today! Goodbye!

Fallout 4 Random Companion Headcanons

Wrote these a few years ago, too nervous then to share them.

Ada

-Ada was built in 2268. She's about 21 years old.

-Her first memory is of seeing The Mechanist in front of her. Then she watched as The Mechanist removed their head and smiled.

-She's Isabel's first project. 

-Her voice was originally supposed to be more synthesized and robotic, but the more human sound was easier for Isabel to work with.

-Ada prefers to travels in groups with 3-4 people, knowing fully well a robot is a higher target for scavvers.

- Her base body was constructed from many different trial runs of the "ADA" project.

-She's programmed to remain indifferent but the nagging voice in her programming says to do good things in order to to aid other people.

-Ada appreciates the effort Sole goes through to upgrade her body. She doesn't think it's necessary and she's somewhat sentimental about her original form.

-She finds Codsworth's attachment to Sole strange. Almost too human, those Mr. Handy's.

Cait

-Cait loves baths. Bubble baths with bath bombs and even a little rubber ducky. Only Sole knows this.

-The rubber ducky's name is Codsworth. Will not explain why.

-Can fire a rifle over her shoulder behind her. (Annie Oakley style)

-Hates Jazz music. Says it's too slow and calm. Really dislikes it because she's uncomfortable slow dancing with anyone.

-Allergic to feathers. Rad chickens make her sick to be around.

-But once the feathers are removed, the chicken has been cut up, and cooked with some veggies and a loaf of bread, loves it.

-Chicken soup is her favourite dish. Only likes Sole's chicken soup though. Will not eat anyone else’s.

-Shot put would be her favourite sport. Throwing a heavy metal sphere a very long distance is goals.

Codsworth

-Codsworth can speak 8 languages. Including: English, Spanish, French, Japanese, German, Italian, Polish, and Swedish.

-Can recognize almost every written language and translate but lacks the programming to speak every one.

-Nate/Nora got him two years before Shaun was born.

-Sole did minimal repair work on him, and offered to polish him every time he got a dent or scratch.

-He always accepted the polish offer. Very wary of Sole doing factory repairs on him. Would prefer professionals doing the delicate work.

-Always celebrated Nate/Nora and Sole’s respective birthdays. For 200 years.

-When Sole called him "Family", he felt an odd electric pulse through his core processor. He decided to call it a skipped heart beat.

-Calls synth Shaun "Sonny", and "Young Master Shaun".

-Makes Sole's favourite meal when they come back home from Vault 111.

-Will ask to take over if he catches Sole doing chores.

-Hesitates when he has to bring up Sole's spouse knowing it's a touchy subject.

-His favourite friend of Sole's is Nick. Thinks Nick is a good role model for synth Shaun.

Curie

-Curie, like Codsworth can speak 8 languages. However, after becoming a synth, she can only speak about 4.

-Curie loves the feeling of velvet. Collects pieces of velvet clothing. 

-Once wore a velvet cape around because she loved the way it draped over her shoulders and fluttered when she walked.

-Has sensory phases. Music, nice noises, soft materials, different foods, perfumes, etc. Collects whatever makes her senses happy.

-During the "feeling phase" her favourite feeling was holding Sole's hand. Loved running her hand over the surface of water. And velvet.

-Talks out what her feelings are with Piper. Piper explains to her what the "spin spin spin" in her head meant.

-Favourite smell is fresh baked bread. Bakes bread with Mama Murphy every weekend.

-Favourite sweet food is mutfruit pie. Will badger Piper to make it with her.

-Curie's motor functions are still new. Sometimes she misses what she was trying to grab and fumbles.

Danse

-Danse is a horrid mechanic. You'd think spending time in the BoS and dedicating time to auto repair with Ingram. Can't put a toaster together.

-But Power Armor is a piece of cake. Can't do much with pre-war tech, yet fixing power armor is as easy as making breakfast.

-Like all gen 3 synths, he loves Fancy Lad snack cakes. He'd share whatever box he'd find with the squires around the Prydwen.

-Scribe Haylen would volunteer to work alongside Danse on all his scouting missions.

-Danse found out Deacon was the one who stuck the dildo to his power armor. He made sure Deacon's wigs were the same bright purple color the very next day.

-Loves country music. When a traveling courier stops by and shares their western/country music, he actually dances. 

-Has a heart for kids. Even Billy. 

-Leg bouncing habit. Can't bounce his leg in power armor but as soon as he's out, his leg's jittering.

Deacon

-Deacon is in his late 40's. 

-Did not lie about his wife and the University Point Deathclaws.

-Enjoys learning about Pre-war culture, spends free time with ghouls asking them about the past.

-Sole can fool him easily about prewar facts though. 

-Has incredible luck with the pie claw game. Has won 8 times while traveling with Sole.

-Loves making silly bets. "I bet I can skip this plate across the lake at least 1 time." Proceeds to throw the plate at the water horizontally. 

-Doesn't hate Danse. He will pull pranks on him though. Once stuck a dildo on the back of Danse's power armour. 

-His hair grows quickly so he has to shave every day.

-Shaves his head, isn't bald. Shaved head works better with his pompadour wig. 

-Doesn't like mutfruit. Says it's too acidic and hurts his gums.

-Has a rifle-shaped scar on his forearm. Will tell a different story for it every time.

-Once drank a dozen Nuka Cola Quantums on a dare. His pee glowed for a week.

-Tried going vegetarian once. ONCE. Found out being vegetarian means eating no meat or dairy products. Had to have Sole explain that, while gross, radroach could technically be  considered meat.

-Is kinda clumsy. Always bumps into counter edges and stubs his toes on bits of debris.

-Doesn't lie about his family. And when Sole calls him family, promises to never lie about family again.

Gage

-Gage juggled skii balls to entertain the last Overboss, Colter.

-He enjoys small shooting competitions with MacCready, Sole, and X6. All four are sharp shooters.

-Fastest learner. Spent an entire week learning how to cook Sole's old recipes. He can cook them better than anyone with the exception of Codsworth.

-Hums when he works. 

-Had a one night stand with Nisha. Ended so bad, he avoids that area of the park at all costs.

-Hates cats. Had an awful run in with a rad lion. Radiated Mountain Lion that tore a scar deep down his back. 

-Does routine maintenance on the rides in the park. He knows how everything works there. From social hierarchy - to the intricacies of the Vault Tec: Among the Stars ride.

-His favourite flavour of Nuka Cola is Nuka Cola Victory. Rare to find but easily the best.

-Record farthest shot is a bean can from 410 meters. 

-He's a lightweight. Only two beers and he's buzzed enough to sing along with Red-Eye.

-Will tell a different story every time if anyone asks about the eye patch.

Hancock

-Hancock is a history buff. Loves learning about colonial era civilization. 

-Has spent days with Kent Connolly researching Silver Shroud information. He knows more about the Silver Shroud than any other companion.

-Has had a fling with every person in Goodneighbor at least once. Even Kleo. 

-At least in a sexual way, he is extremely open minded. Welcomes new experiences and new information given anywhere anytime.

-Had a decent childhood with his brother. He remembers tending to the mutfruit trees with him and eating every other piece they picked.

-Adores pickles. Would sit and eat an entire jar of pickles just because he loves the cronch so much.

-All time favourite chem is Mentats. Loves making intellectual jokes while high as a kite.

-Does not know what a lot of pre-war expressions mean, but enjoys saying them and hearing them from Sole.

-Is a master at repairing clothing. How else does the frock stay in such good condition? He tends to it every night.

-As far as euphemisms for ghouls go, he likes "beef jerky".

Longfellow

-Longfellow met Hannah while out hunting. She blasted a trapper's head clean off, and he fell harder than the trapper's body.

-He spent his youth training, hoping to become a Brotherhood soldier one day.

-And then he met a vertibird full of them. They called Far Harbor a dump while gathering supplies there. Officially decided to cease all training.

-Managed to take down 17 Mirelurks in 3 minutes. 

-Holds the record in Acadia for alcohol consumption. All records involving alcohol consumption.

-He's really fit? Longfellow could and has bench pressed Sole. 

-He only did so because Hancock and MacCready wouldn't shut up about it.

-Loves singing old shanty songs and dancing with Sole. Only when no one else is around though.

-After the events at Far Harbor, he decides to go sailing along the coast. Wants to see the world more.

MacCready

-MacCready does brush his teeth. He brushes his teeth regularly. He started brushing after he left Little Lamplight. By that point the damage was already done.

-Lucy was the one to convince him to brush his teeth.

-He can't stand the smell of lavender. Lavender candles, lavender lotion, etc...makes him feel  nauseous.

-He named his sniper rifle, "Lucy"

-Won't drink brahmin milk with cereal even to Sole's encouragement.

-Is very well read. Vault 87 had many educational textbooks hidden among the super mutants.

-MacCready was the longest lasting mayor in L.L. He was mayor for 6 years.

-He has no idea what television is and is afraid to ask any pre-wars about it.

-Wary of all ghouls, both feral and normal. He's not bias to non-ferals, but he is a little uncomfortable.

-Had a crush on Lone Wanderer when they first visited L.L. Mac told Joseph and he made fun of him.

Nick

-Nick has an oral fixation. Smokes out of habit and having the familiar feeling of a cigarette between his lips feeds into human nostalgia.

-His right hand is missing skin because he fidgets only his right. Whether it was picking at the fraying plastic or rubbing the fake skin raw.

-He lost the chunk of neck skin after Myrna accused him of working for the Institute. Tore off a chunk to prove he wasn't a perfect person or an infiltrator synth.

-Ellie was the first person in Diamond City to wholly accept Nick as he is. She asked to work with him as soon as he decided to stay.

-Piper and Nick have jam sessions where they have heavy debates about Diamond City law enforcement and criminal misuse of power in the capitalistic society of pre-war USA.

-Met Dogmeat under an overpass. He handed the dog a snack cake and scratched his head. They've been close pals ever since.

-Will "sleep" around Sole. He'll lay down and manually put himself into "sleep mode". Any unnecessary functions will shut down. He lets his thoughts take over. All Sole hears is the faintest fan whir.

Piper

-Piper plans Sole's 211th birthday. She goes all out, collects balloons, bakes several cakes with Codsworth, makes everyone attend and threatens anyone who would act up. "It's Blue's first birthday out here, you WILL behave!"

-Knows how to make mutfruit preserves, mutfruit pie, mutfruit jam and jelly. Makes it for Nat constantly.

-Has a notebook dedicated to little tidbits of info about Sole.

-Nat is exactly 8 years, 5 months, and 25 days younger than Piper. 

-Piper has interviewed every person in Diamond City. Made a game of it with Nat at first, then she just kept going with it.

-Piper has awful shorthand. Almost as bad as Curie's shorthand. Still illegible. 

-Piper's handwriting is so bad, Nat does the writing for the paper. Piper writes the final draft and Nat copies it, and sends it through the printing press.

-Despite bad handwriting, Piper is very eloquent. Can make a super mutant sound like good date idea or convince anyone how the mayor might actually be a synth.

-Her favourite of Sole's friends is Kent Connolly. Would gladly dress up and act out Silver Shroud episodes with him and Sole.

Preston

-Preston has insomnia. Cannot sleep well. Has had insomnia since Quincy. 

-Can sleep well if he's sleeping beside someone.

-Has a box under his bed of little knick-knacks children have given him over the years. Can't bear to get rid of the kid's gifts.

-He actually likes all of Sole's friends. Even Strong.

-Hates coconut. Once found an Almond-Joy while scaving and couldn't finish it to save his life.

-All time favourite candy is Peanut Brittle. Hard to find but gnawing on the hard chunks is somewhat soothing to him.

-Loves back rubs. Giving and receiving but only from close friends or lovers.

-Once accidently drank a bottle of perfume. MacCready told him it was a bottle of fancy expensive wine. 

-Sturges and Preston are the closest of friends, no less maybe more.

Strong

-Strong knows how to jump rope.

-But double dutch is a mystery.

-Before Sole, he only ate meat raw. Sole taught him how to cook it.

-Also lacks patience to cook, but slowly learning.

-Strong was created in Vault 87 after the bombs dropped but remembers nothing from being human.

-Doesn't understand bubblegum. Will always swallow it after a few seconds of chewing.

-Likes having poetry and plays read to him. 

-Sleeps holding Sole or having Sole laying across his stomach. 

-Loves fire. The smell, the feeling of heat against his hardened skin, the taste of charred meat, and watching the embers fly up and turn to ash.

-Strong can read, but chooses not to because super mutants discourage any educational behavior. 

-Likes the sound of clacking keys on a terminal. He'll turn one on and mess around with the keyboard just to hear the different sounds each key makes.

-He can't decide if hand-to-hand combat is better than using guns.

X6-88

-X6 doesn't like using plasma. He thinks the plasma is less accurate. 

-But laser weapons are his jam.

-Spends excessive amount of time augmenting his weapon. 

-If Sole helped, he would be "happy". Would never say it, but a tiny smirk would pop up on his face for half a second.

-Will collect Fancy Lad Snack Cakes. Hoards them in his bedroom in Sanctuary and in the Institute. 

-Sole found his stash and X6 blushed for the first time when they confronted him. 

-He called Sole "Mom" instead of Ma'am once. She won't let him live it down.

-He called Sole "Dad" after hearing Shaun call him "Dad" all day. He won't let him live it down.

-Actually likes kids. Won't show emotions, get down to their level, or speak to kids. But he doesn't hate children. 

-Especially likes synth Shaun. He taught synth Shaun how to use a laser pistol. Shaun found out and put X6 on probation for a month.

Bonus Vault Tec Rep and Kent Connolly under the cut.

Vault Tec Rep

-Rep spent a couple decades learning how to draw. Loves drawing from life. Mostly draws people. Occasionally draws ferals, mutants, and various animals.

-Was engaged before the war, lasted about 2 years before she died of cancer.

-His favorite food was and still is a well grilled medium rare steak.

-A total neat freak. Every space he uses as a homestead has to be thoroughly cleaned of any bacteria, ticks, dust, dirt, radiation residue, etc

-Teased in school for his red hair. "Rusty" was his least favorite nickname.

-He's extremely susceptible to pet names. Doesn't have to be anything sexual or romantic, just pet names. He blushes like a starstruck starlet.

-Loves love. Romance and old-timey corny love stories. He like to woo his partner. Flowers, chocolate, dancing, movie dates, hand written poems, you name it. 

-He misses his old red hair. Years of being a brunette and he's a little bitter about his hair.

-Least favourite part of The Wasteland is amount of bodies he sees on a daily basis. He saw about zero bodies a day on average before the war. Even in Goodneighbor, the average has risen to about 4 bodies a week. 

-Favourite part of The Wasteland is the ability to just go anywhere. After realizing he didn't have any obligation to stay any specific place, he just traveled around for a few decades.

-His father worked for Vault-Tec, and when he graduated high school, he was given a job immediately. 

-Didn't hate it. Didn't love it at first, but he had a real knack for selling.

-He never had an office in Boston HQ. He got the van, and got a sweet bonus for being top salesman, but never his own office. 

-Despite being top salesman, he was only allowed on the first and second floors. He didn't find out till after the bombs dropped that the basement and third floor up had the plans for the various vaults in the area.

-He can't apologize enough to Sole. After thinking on it and checking out vault 111 by himself, he truly feels sorry for what happened.

-Sole gets him a set of steak knives for Christmas. They're homemade by Sole. They tell him he's earned far more than a knife set, but if that's what he's pining for...

-He treasures it so much, he rarely uses them. Just before he leaves for work in the morning, he checks them over and admires them.

-He and Sole have spent days just telling each other pre war stories. He almost knows more about Sole than Piper does. And he's a little proud of that fact.

-He gets along best with, of all people, Deacon. Good sense of humour and always interested in pre-war info.

-Second best is Piper. A nice lady who snoops too much, but does treat everyone with respect and tries to remain unbiased.

Kent Connolly

-Kent was 23 when the bombs dropped.

-He was sleeping in on the Saturday morning when he heard the air raid sirens.

-Hid in his house's basement till the sirens stopped. 

-And then the radiation sickness took over. 

-It took him about 3 months to turn ghoulish. Quicker than most. 

-He dislikes Goodneighbor - the town as a whole. The people are fine, the resources are serviceable, and the safety assured is nice. But he hates how back alley it feels.

-Misses his family the most. They weren't the best, but they made him feel loved and important.

-Speaking of which, Kent had a huge family. I'm talking brothers, sisters, cousins for days, aunts, uncles...he remembers family reunions as huge gatherings chock full of food and kids running amuck.

-Maybe, just maybe, he enjoys seeing Sole all dressed like Shroud a little too much. He's a big fan.

-Once spent 4 grand on a mint condition Issue no. 3 Silver Shroud comic just to find out it was a forgery. Never got that refund. :(

-Writes really well. But only writes Silver Shroud fanfiction. Piper almost convinced him to help write an article about how crime differed before the war and after the war. But he turned her down.

-Nick has agreed to dress up as Shroud if Sole dresses up like Grognak or Mistress of Mystery. But only if Sole dresses up too.

-Irma refers to him as her son. Amari will not say the same, but she also doesn't protest.

-He used to work in comic book shop. (Of course he did.) 

-He writes self insert Silver Shroud fanfiction all the time. After the events at the hospital with Sinjin, the Shroud in his fanfictions suddenly start using Sole's pronouns and is described as physically similar as Sole.

Mirdal’ika (Din Djarin x f!Reader)

Summary: Reader takes care of the Razor Crest and the child while Mando is out hunting. When Mando doesn’t return when he’s supposed to, the book-smart reader has to learn some street smarts and help her Mandalorian.

WC: 4.6k

Warnings: violence, cussing, mentions of blood

A/N: Okay, I’m a nerd, a certified nerd as if that wasn’t clear. This is my love letter to the nerds out there, to the ones who had their first kiss a little late, who stayed in and read books rather than partying. I love you, you’re cool. Italics are for emphasis and internal dialogue, but in some places also to show that another language is being spoken. Hopefully that’s clear! Oh, also: mirdal’ika is a word of my own creation. No Mando’a word exists for “nerd” that I could find, so this is my interpretation of the language using my best etymological skills!

mirdala= intelligent, clever -’ika = suffix meaning small or little mirdal’ika = intelligent little one; Mando’a slang meaning nerd.

Growing up, you were the kid who had her nose buried in a book at all times. You rarely interacted with the outside world. While the other children on Tatooine made sandcastles or played games, drawing in the sand, you read encyclopedias and fact books, learning about the other planets in your systems and other cultures. Your fixation at age 12 had been on Mandalorian culture, fascinated by the warriors that were like faraway, mythical knights to your young self. As a child enraptured by fairy tales and stories of intergalactic heroes like Luke Skywalker and Leia Organa, you’d somehow always been enchanted by the bad-boy type, the dark and mysterious man who reluctantly saves the day, more along the lines of Han Solo. Naturally, the fact that Mandalorians never showed their face was mysterious, and you’d admit that you dreamed of being swept away by the Mand’alor and having the privilege of being the sole person to see their face, of being a queen and finding true love. You later moved on to research other cultures, even teaching yourself various galactic languages should you ever get the chance to travel. That didn’t seem likely, growing up on a planet where the only claim to fame was Luke Skywalker’s brief residence a few towns over. Your knowledge of Mandalorian culture was part of what made you so special to Mando, your employer-friend-coworker-roommate-co-parent whose name you had yet to learn. You never asked questions of him. Never asked him to take off his helmet, never asked him what was under it, never asked anything too personal, understood that the helmet could only come off in front of members of his clan. You’d cut him off and finish a sentence when he’d explain something of his customs to you, stunning him with your knowledge. He liked it, and by association he liked you. You had bore much of your life story to him, and he gladly would’ve given you some of his. He had come to like you, to trust you even, but you never asked. For fear you wouldn’t want to hear it, he held back. You even spoke Mando’a, though he didn’t know that. It always brought a smirk to your face as he’d turn his back after calling you some sweet words in his native tongue, thinking you’d be oblivious. It shocked you at first; you didn’t expect such a stoic and silent man to be so openly flirtatious, but after a while it most certainly grew on you. You would tease him equally in another tongue, calling him handsome or dashing in Pak Pak or Bothese. It was fun, the way he’d try to guess what you were saying, usually assuming it meant something negative.

With your vast knowledge of languages, you’d both expected that you would be able to interpret the words of Mando’s adopted son, that his babbling would be easily deciphered into some species’ tongue. Eventually you realized that he wasn’t speaking a language yet, simply regurgitating syllables like any child would. He was a baby, after all. You set out to make it your mission to teach the child languages when Mando was away, and he had begun to identify the meaning of words, even if he couldn’t say them himself. He could identify body parts on himself, you by your name, and Mando by his; well, the name you called him, which you knew wasn’t his real name. Mando had taken you on as a crewmate for the Razor Crest a few months ago now, and you still knew next to nothing about the beskar-clad warrior. He was a forward man, so you assumed he would tell you things when he was ready. That’s about all you knew: he was a man, and he was a Mandalorian. He wanted to tell you everything, especially the fact that he had been enchanted by your intelligence and wit since the first time he met you, stopping on Tatooine for a bounty and encountering you when he asked a fellow villager who the most knowledgeable person around was. The tiny green thing he held was a menace, and you cared for him while the Mandalorian man went and hunted his bounty. The child was hesitant to leave you, getting attached after a quick few days of staying in your hut, and the man had decided you could be valuable. Just before he walked through the door, he turned and offered you a job. You were shy when you accepted, and had nursed a crush the whole time you two had traveled together. You couldn’t believe the situation, just like in those trashy novels you’d read when you were interested in his culture. Now that you lived with him and the tiny green thing, you stayed aboard his ship while he hunted and cared for the kid, cleaned, fixed up the piece of junk, and generally ran the almost-household. It was enjoyable; you liked the man, especially once you came to find his sense of humor similar to your own, and you absolutely adored the child in your care. Your little ragtag crew fell into a rhythm after the first month or so: Mando would leave on a hunt for a few days. While he was gone, you’d play with the baby, feed him and care for him. You washed the blood and dirt from the man’s clothing and the child’s bile from the clothing belonging to you and the baby, taught the child new words, and generally… well, raised him. The baby felt like your child when you two were alone, but when the Mandalorian came home, he was the only thing visible in that child’s round black eyes. It was all about him, sitting in his lap, babbling incoherent words to him, playing with him. Luckily for you, the Mandalorian is on a hunt. You and the child sit in the bed compartment; you lie on the mattress and the child rests in his mesh hammock above the entry. At the last port, you picked up as many books as possible to entertain both you and the child. He loved listening to your voice, and so you happily read aloud to him as you rest together. The Mandalorian should be home tonight, you figured, since he told you that this was a rather easy bounty and that it should take him no more than 3 days. It’s now a couple hours after the third day, but you’re sure it’s fine. The child’s eyes droop closed as you read to him, flawlessly translating the book from the Pak Pak it was written in. The Basic words pour from your mouth, and the little thing gives a gentle yawn before curling up with his favorite blanket and silver ball and passing out. Looking up, you laugh at the sight softly and transition to reading in your head. Not long after the kid falls asleep, you follow. It was unintentional, but reading soothes you, and the perfectly cozy bed that smells like Mando draws you in further and further until sleep washes over your body. You hug one pillow to your chest as you sleep, imagining it was the man’s body you cuddled up against. - Mando is 24 hours late. You’ve been pacing in the ship since you realized it’s officially a day later than he said he’d be back. Dammit, you’re going to find that man. You’re not unaccustomed to violence, having been in scuffles as a child and teen, fighting off Jawas or unsavory men in Tatooine cantinas. You need to track him down and find him. First, you go up to the cockpit and look at the comm watch he gave you. It has a two-way tracking device; one for him to find you, and one for you to find him. Mando has the technology to see where you are built into his vambrace. You, however, have nothing. After searching the cockpit, you find and crack open a tracking fob he used in the past. You open the back of the comm watch, finding the bit with the tracker and wire it to the fob. As you connect two wires, the fob suddenly blinks with light. Laughing at the fact that you made it work, you relax a little. Now you can track the Mandalorian man down. After slipping the fob into a pocket of your pants, you scoot back down the ladder and to the cargo hold’s back wall: Mando’s arsenal. You can do this, you tell yourself, and dare to open Mando’s personal armory built into the wall. You strap a holster to your thigh, adding a vibroblade there. A belt with two guns rests on your hips. An ammo belt drapes across your chest, settling between your breasts and pulling your black tank top tight, the back of the leather sash holding Mando’s backup pulse rifle. You take a look in the mirror of the refresher, and you have to admit that you look badass. Weapons and homemade tracker at the ready, you set out to find him. You leave the baby with a trustworthy woman at the hangar, one who has babysat him before for Mando, then enter the bustling city. - Following the blinking and beeping of the fob, you find your way to the opposite end of the city, to a building located near the outskirts. It’s run down and looks abandoned. It makes perfect sense that someone would hide here. As you approach, the beeping of the fob encourages you; the Mandalorian is definitely here. You disable the sound on the fob and slip it in your pocket, grabbing one of the blasters from your hip. As you approach, the building is silent. The roar of the city is quiet but present, and you slip through an open doorway quietly. You scan the rooms, blaster held in front of you and ready to shoot. You take inventory of the first floor and find nothing. The staircase looks terribly old, and you wince as you take your first step onto it and it makes a noise. Now or never, you tell yourself and quickly run up the steps, knowing the noise can’t be avoided, so you’d better make it quick. You reach the top of the steps, pulling out your other blaster, and find a male Twi’lek standing over  a pile of silver and black on the floor. Mando. He’s most definitely unconscious, maybe even- no, he can’t be dead, you can see his slow breathing and the way it makes his body rise and fall. “Fuck,” you say out loud, and the Twi’lek turns towards you. The man is large, much larger than you. He’s overweight and dressed in combat clothes, his face battered and bloody. Your heart sinks as you realize this man is the bounty Mando was going for. You need to start thinking on your feet, and quickly. The man starts to move toward you and you hold out both blasters. “Easy there, nerra,” you tell him in Twi’leki, calling him ‘brother’ to attempt to put him at ease. It doesn’t have the effect that you hoped. “Why are you here?” he asks back, also in Twi’leki, reaching for his weapon. “Don’t draw,” you threaten and inch closer. He was a bail jumper, Mando had informed you before he left, but not for a petty charge; he had escaped in order to avoid several charges of murder. He was a former bounty hunter, who Mando had encountered once. The idea strikes you. “I’m here for him,” you say and nod to the lump of beskar behind the man on the ground. “There’s a bounty on his head. I… heard whoever turns him in gets to keep the beskar too,” you say, raising an eyebrow as you look at him. “You going for him too?” The Twi’lek man shakes his head. “No. He was coming for me. Thought he could beat me.” You seize this opportunity. “From what you look like, I don’t think anyone could. This one is worth a lot of credits. Enough to run away to a pleasure planet… twice over,” you say, inching closer. Mando makes a soft groan and it breaks your heart as he gains consciousness. He must notice you; he starts to moan out words, but you know he can’t speak or he’ll expose you both. “Silence, Mandalorian,” you say again in Basic, words holding acid. “Twice over… let’s bring him in together. Find some wonderful planet to share that bounty on…” you offer, raising an eyebrow and slowly creeping closer to the man. “What’s your name?” You ask. He tells you his and you tell him yours, then give him a seductive smile. The man’s face falls into a smirk. You put both blasters in your belt once more and his posture relaxes fully. “Sounds wonderful to me, beautiful.” “Wow. For a jaded bounty hunter, you’re more foolish than one could ever believe.” Before the man can process your words, you’ve slung the pulse rifle over your shoulder and pull it into position. You shoot a pulse and it finds its target in his chest. He groans in agony and falls backwards, directly on top of Mando. Wincing for the man beneath the hulking Twi’lek, you grab a blaster, shooting the man in each leg. “Mando, hey, it’s me,” you tell him as you roll the behemoth from on top of him. “I’m here,” you murmur. He starts mumbling back, but it’s in Mando’a. That makes sense, you suppose, that he’s reverting in such a moment of crisis. “How hurt are you?” you ask, beginning to speak Mando’a to him in hopes he’ll understand you better. Mando’s brain works through the fog, hearing your words and recognizing that it’s you. “Real bad,” he groans out, speaking his native tongue. You touch his elbow, unprotected by beskar, and he whines. “No, no,” he whimpers, sounding almost like a child. You sigh. This was going to be harder than you expected. “Fuck, how am I going to get you out of here?” The brain function that the Mandalorian has left is your saving grace. “Speeder bike. Hidden down there. We can get on.” “Yes, but how are we going to get you downstairs?” He doesn’t respond, simply groans in pain. If this was going to work without immense pain on his part, some kind of miracle was going to need to happen. “I’m going to drag you down the stairs as carefully as I can, okay? We’ll let gravity do the work. Do you have a good arm?” “The left one… so clever, so smart, pretty girl,” he breathes out, words rasping. You blush at the words but chuckle. He’s in so much pain there’s no way he can think straight now. “I’ll go get the bike, then we’ll get you down there.” This is the hard part, you think to yourself. First, you run down the steps and search for the speeder bike Mando mentioned. You find it and sigh in relief. It’s a piece of junk, but it should do. You position it at the bottom of the stairs and then run up them again. “Okay, this is going to hurt. Can you roll yourself?” “No, shoulder’s all fucked up,” he mumbles and you groan. “Well, I’ll have to drag you on the good one. Get ready.” Taking his good arm, you begin dragging him towards the steps. He groans and you wince. “I’m so sorry, you’re doing so well,” you tell him as you move him. “Here we go.” Once he’s at the top of the steps, you hold him under his armpits, blushing at how close you are. He’s so strong, even injured, and you smile softly to yourself. You lower the two of you down the stairs with careful movements and manage to hold him long enough to get him seated on the speeder bike. He leans forward onto the handles. “One moment,” you tell him. Running up the stairs once more, you shoot another pulse into the bounty. He gives a dazed nod, clearly not understanding anything through the pain he’s in. You can’t let Mando leave this man behind. You’re sure he’s unconscious, so you repeat the same movements as before but with next to no gentleness. You toss him on the back of the speeder bike, where the gunner would sit, and tie him down with ropes before covering him with a blanket. “Alright, back to the ship as quick as we possibly can,” you inform Mando and get the speeder to a door wide enough to fit it through. Once it works, you hop on between Mando and the handlebar and start it up, moving as quickly as you possibly can. Soon enough, you’re back at the hangar that holds the Razor Crest. You enter the back way, using the speeder bike entrance. You hop off quickly and park it by the Crest. “Stay right there, I’m going to get this asshole into the carbonite,” you tell Mando. His consciousness hasn’t been clear for at least a day. He didn’t even process the fact that you had grabbed the bounty. “What? You got him?” “One of us had to,” you tease, enjoying the fact that the two of you are finally conversing in his native tongue. You’ve always loved Mando’a, the way the words sound rolling off your tongue. You untie the man, still unconscious, and haul him up the ramp of the Crest. You’ve seen Mando work the carbonite freezer once or twice, and you hope you press the right buttons as you force the man onto the slab. “Come on, baby,” you murmur to the machine, hoping it’ll work. With one final button, there’s a hiss and cold air blows from it, freezing him. You sigh in relief. You return to the main hold and pop out a cot for him to lie on. Running back down the ramp, you find the dazed Mandalorian in the exact spot you left him in. “I’m going to carry you into the ship,” you tell him, grunting with effort as you lift his practically deadweight body off of the side and into a standing position. You drag him up and immediately shove him onto the cot. “Fuck, I’m sorry,” you cringe as he moans in pain at the contact with the cot. “One more thing and we’ll get some bacta in you.” The owner of the hangar is waiting for you outside the ship, holding the kid, both confused by the commotion. You very quickly and hurriedly explain to her that everything is fine now, thank her and pay her a generous amount of credits, and rush back onto the ship with the baby. “Keep the speeder!” You shout behind you as you close the ramp. - A full day and a half later, the Mandalorian awakens from a deep slumber with a pounding headache. He sits with a jolt, which only makes the headache worse. He looks around to find that he’s in the Razor Crest, the familiar hum indicating that he’s in hyperspace. The events of the past few days begin to manifest in his memory and he groans, lying back down on the cot. You climb down from the cockpit as you hear him stirring and find him on his side. “Good morning,” you say softly as you sit on the edge of his cot, the kid in your arm. You set the child down and he toddles off elsewhere.  “You were out for a good day and a half,” you tell him and stroke his side softly. “How do you feel?” “Like shit,” he groans, rolling to his back again. He’s hyper aware of your touch, the way your fingers drag down his- oh shit, he’s shirtless, armorless- skin, avoiding the bruises. “You… thank you,” he says, gravelly voice soft. It sinks in that he’s wearing just a pair of shorts and his helmet. You must’ve undressed him, cleaned and bandaged his wounds. His breath catches in his throat. You nod and stroke his good arm. “Of course. That’s why you brought me on, isn’t it?” you tease. He chuckles, but it’s clear that takes effort. “Really, thank you. And you got the bounty too! Shit, mesh’la, I-” he says as he starts to sit, but you push him back down with a hand to his chest, caressing the side of his beskar helmet. “Nayc, stay down,” you tell him, chuckling softly. “Rest. I’ll bring you some water and go back up to the cockpit so you can take off the helmet,” you say with a soft smile, standing and going to where you keep the food and water bottles. As you move, he mulls over the events that led him here. He got knocked down and beat by the man that was supposed to be his bounty. That never happened. You came to rescue him and- wait. You just told him no, nayc, in Mando’a. In fact, you were speaking Mando’a to him the whole time you rescued him, reassuring him and directing him in his native tongue, which he had no idea you spoke until just now. You return with a nutrient bar and water bottle, setting them next to his side on the cot. “I’ll head back up-” you start to say, but he stops you by grabbing his wrist. “You speak Mando’a,” he says simply, looking up at you with wonder behind his mask. “Yeah,” you chuckle and admit, face flushing with warmth. His is equally heating beneath the beskar. He sits up slightly but instead you come to his level, sitting on the edge of the cot and pushing him down with a firm palm to his chest. He chuckles softly. “So you’ve understood me every time I’ve called you beautiful,” he says, a tinge of shyness in his modulated voice. Nodding, you tuck a stray hair back from your face. “I… yes, I have,” you nod, giving him an awkward smile. “I hear you talk in Mando'a in your sleep too, sometimes.” Even his chest is flushing with warmth now. You look away, at a corner of the ship “You talk about your life. People from your past.” The silence hangs between the two of you, your hand still resting in the center of his chest. You slowly drag it to his good shoulder, and down his arm. He clasps your hand in his when it reaches his fingertips. “Have you heard the name Din?” He asks in his native tongue, and you shake your head softly, truthfully. It never came out. “That’s… my name. Din, Din Djarin,” he admits to you, hand squeezing yours softly. You gasp softly, not expecting that information from him. A smile settles on your face after a moment. “Well then. Hello, Din.” You lean down and press your forehead to where his lies beneath the metal. A keldabe kiss, you know, the most intimate gesture a Mandalorian can do. It truly melts his heart, the organ pumping frantically in his chest. “Hello to you too, gorgeous. Wait,” he stops and pushes your face from his, gently. He returns to speaking Basic with a chuckle. “How many languages do you speak?” You look upwards, mentally counting. “Uh. 8 and a half. I’m still not finished with Ubese,” you say and turn back to face him, a shy smile gracing your face. “Wow. You’re a mirdal’ika,” he tells you, the smile evident in his voice even though you can’t see it through the mask. Separately, the syllables make sense. You understand the direct translation, but it’s odd, and you cock your head to the side as you look down at the Mandalorian- no, Din. “Little clever one?” You ask, unsure if you heard him correctly. “Yes, well, that’s the direct translation. It’s really more of a slang term.” “For?” “In Basic… I believe the equivalent would be… nerd.” “Din!” You squeal and laugh, smacking his good shoulder lightly with a backhand. “Excuse me, that’s rude,” you chuckle, the smile growing even wider on your face as you look down at him. He doesn’t respond for a moment and you give a soft sigh. “Well, you need to drink that water. I’ll head back up to the cockpit,” you tell him, really meaning to leave this time, the smile falling. Once again, as you stand and try to move, he grabs your arm. “I… I think I’m going to need help with that,” he admits, almost ashamed. “Please. Stay.” You nod, but then realize what it implicates. “No, Din,” you sigh, shaking your head. “I can’t do that to you, you and that helmet, it’s… it’s your everything, I couldn’t possibly-” “Please, cyare,” he asks in his native tongue again, and your heart melts. “I want you to see me. I need you to see me.” Heart pounding, you take a beat before you respond with a nod. You sit down once more, hands slowly tracing up his sides, then his chest and up to the base of his helmet. “You’re sure. Positive,” you ask. “Of course I am.” With a nod, you allow him to bring his hand to the side to unlatch the lock. Once it releases, he lifts his head just above the pillow and you slide off his helmet, catching the back of his head with one hand and easing it back down to the pillow. You make sure the helmet rests on the floor before you finally look at him. He’s gorgeous, truly. His tanned skin, which you saw when cleaning his wounds, is covered with dark stubble and a mustache on the lower half of his face, broken by two plush lips. Your fingertips trace his jawline as you take in his softly hooked nose, his dark eyebrows, his dark and messy hair, but most importantly, his eyes. His eyes are a beautiful chocolate brown, set gently into his face and looking at you like you’re a shimmering supernova, no, something even more beautiful. For a moment, you get caught up staring at him. “You’re absolutely beautiful, Din,” you mumble in Mando’a. He just gives a soft smile and murmurs his thanks. After you finish staring, you shake your head quickly. “Sorry, the water,” you chuckle nervously, turning to grab it from your other side. Din’s hand catches the side of your face. “The water is a secondary need,” he says softly in Mando’a, turning your face back to his. “I took this off for something else.” His eyes hold a question as he looks up at you. You bite your lip for a moment before breaking into a smile and nodding. The Mandalorian pulls your face down to his, and, ever so gently, your lips finally meet, real and warm and absolutely delicious. You sigh softly, putting a hand on the side of his face too. His lips are softer than you’d expected, while yours are just as beautiful as he dreamed about at night. You both continue for a moment, his hand drifting to your neck, completely lost in each other. A moment later, you pull back and giggle. “I have to admit something, Din,” you tell him and lovingly stroke the side of his face. “It better not be that you’re secretly engaged,” he asks teasingly, a soft smile on his face and raising an eyebrow at you. “No,” you laugh and run your hand through his curls, carding your fingers between the surprisingly soft locks. “That…” you gulp and look away before looking back at him. “Was my first kiss,” you admit and bite down on your bottom lip. He laughs softly but there’s love in his eyes. “A girl as beautiful as you never dated when you were younger? Never went out and flirted with her classmates?” You shake your head. “I was generally too busy at home, reading or teaching myself the language of the man who’d eventually be my first kiss.” You both laugh at that and you grin. His hand rests on the side of your face, gently sweeping his thumb across the skin beneath his fingers. “Of course you were. My little mirdal’ika,” he laughs, bringing your face to his to kiss you once more.

The Lonely Boy

(A second part to the Entity-swap WIP, where the swap is the places the Entities hold in the world rather than the people who serve them) Jon is cold, and tired, and hungry.

But he’d rather be all of those things than back in The Collection.

He stays away from libraries, from universities and schools, from police stations and research institutes, from everywhere that has learning and investigating and knowing. They call to him, sing to his mind with the promise of knowledge and answers, and that’s how he knows they’ll betray him.

That’s where the man found him the first time, after all.

He compromises with large bookstores and cafes, places of learning that have become diluted over the years with the need to turn a profit, making them safer for him while still making the pouding, watching thing in his head go quieter. Plus the staff usually derive more satisfaction from letting him sleep outside of their places of work and sneaking him food and water on the sly than in turning him over to the management that treats them so poorly.

He learns quickly that he’s in London, capital city of the United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland.

It’s something of a blessing to be left in a city this size.

That when he gives in and guiltily Asks someone the Right Question to satisfy his cravings for stories, he can disappear back into the crowd much more easily than he could back in Bournemouth, or in some of the tiny villages down south or up north The Collection passed through.

Nobody really looks twice at another kid left alone and homeless in this place.

He learns quickly that he’s not alone here.

He goes into the house because it’s pouring and he’s soaked to the skin. It takes him far longer than it should to realize that the wet schlurp schlurp schlurp noise is coming from the inside rather than outside.

The Hive wears a red dress and smiles at him when he screams at the sight of her.  But she stops smiling very quickly once he Asks, “Where did you first hear the Song?”

She tells him, each word torn from her lips, exposing her essence to him, filling in a way none of his other meals have been before. He’s so transfixed, he doesn’t notice her attempt to bring him down with her. He’s lucky, really, that the silver worms could only get to his leg before she collapsed, unmoving and pale, and that there were so many sharp things left around the discarded house.

He’s more careful after that, limping on the leg that the Watcher told him how to bandage properly.

Not long after his first ill-fated encounter with servants of other fears, he finds another one.

Jon’s looking for a place to spend the day so nosy people like irritable old people and police officers won’t ask him why he’s not in school. It’s most difficult to do now it’s late autumn, when most other children are safely sequestered away in various schools. Luckily London has a tendency to attract school field trips, so if Jon just hovers around the edges, most people assume he’s part of that other, larger group of screaming children even if he isn’t in uniform and are more likely to overlook him that way. He’s just found one such group in a large park that he can use as protective coloration, content to much on the contents of an unopened packet of prawn cocktail crisps someone threw away as the kids on this school trip gorge themselves from colorful lunchboxes and chase each other around the playground they’re too old for.

It’s then that he spots him.

There’s a boy in the playground.  He’s round and soft-looking and see-through, wearing the same uniform as the others. He’s picking at the splinters on the balance beams he’s sitting on. Thin fog wisps around his ankles.

His eyes are very large and liquid as his head suddenly whips around and he stares up at Jon, blink-blink-blinking like he’s gazing at the sun.

He’s obviously a servant of the Forsaken, but unlike the Hive he doesn’t seem like he’s about to hurt Jon for seeing him. He’s still feeling full from the stories he pulled from a man who stank of alcohol last night, so he’ll hold off on Asking anything for now. He tentatively nods his head to the soft-looking boy. “Hello,” He mutters through a mouthful of crisps.

“You’re very pretty.” The boy tells Jon, almost absent-mindedly. Then his mouth snaps shut and he goes ridged like he’s stuck his finger in a power socket. He’s got a bit more color to him now, like he’s been brought into focus.

Jon stares at him. Stares down at his mismash of clothing pulled from bins. Then back at the boy. “No I’m not. Are your eyes working?”

The boy sputters, high-pitched. “Wh-I-um, um? I-I, I think so?”

Jon shoves another handful of crisps into his mouth. “What’s the best animal?”

”U-uh,” The boy stutters, twisting his fingers together. “I-I don’t know? I, I like fluffy ones, like there was a nice spaniel I met earlier that made friends with me, and, and some kinds of spiders can be very cute and fluffy, did you know, like tarantulas?”

Jon doesn’t disguise his shudder. Obviously this boy has something wrong with his tastes if he thinks things like spiderscan be cute and things like Jon can be pretty. “Cats are the best animal, obviously.”

”O-oh.” The boy says timidly. “W-well, I like cats. Too. Um. Sorry. Who are you? Are you here with your parents?”

He curls in around his crisps, feeling uncomfortably small. “No. They died when I was small. I’m on my own now.”

“I-I’m sorry.” The boy gets up from the balance beam and drifts closer, fog faintly eddying around his heels. “My dad left, a while ago now. So it’s just me and my mum. But she’s not well, and I dunno what I’d do if she—if she—” He takes in a deep breath, shakes his head like a dog shaking off water, and sticks a hand out. “A-anyway. My name’s Martin. Martin Blackwood. Nice to meet you.”

Jon eyes the hand, then wipes off one of his own on his too-big, stained trousers. Martin Blackwood is warmer than he expected, but cooler than a normal human should be. Maybe the Forsaken doesn’t have as tight a grip on him yet?

”Jonathan Sims.” He recites mechanically, a little rusty with introductions. Then, desperate to break the awkward silence and cover up his discomfort, Jon does the worst possible thing he could do. He Asks a Question.

“Why is the Forsaken attached to you?”

And he stares in horror as Martin’s large, liquid eyes go soft and unfocused. “There were all these adults in for this careers day thing, at my school, like firemen and lawyers and things. And one of them was this tall ship captain, like out of a storybook. And he kept talking about his ship and how even if his crew had nobody on land, they could enjoy hard work alone out on the waves, and it felt like he kept looking at me while he said it, and—”

”Stop.” Jon clamps his hands over Martin’s mouth, pretending he doesn’t feel the Watcher’s flare of anger as Martin’s eyes come back into focus and he tenses up. “I-I’m sorry, I, I didn’t mean to, I—”

”Di-did you do that?” Martin breathes. “H-How did you do that? That was amazing, it, it was like I was right there…” He’s fully solid now, like someone has turned the colors on him all the way up. He has very nice colors.

“It’s not.” Jon mutters, sourly. “The Watcher lets me pull stories out of people, to, to feed it. Like how the Forsaken makes you go invisible—“

”I can go invisible?!” Martin all but yells, covering his mouth when several other kids look over and snicker.

”Yeah?” Jon raises an eyebrow. “It’s the entity of the fear of being alone. Didn’t you notice the fog and people ignoring you?” ”Lots of people ignore me anyway.” Martin says, far too matter-of-fact for comfort, and gaze fixated on the fog around his feet. He leans down and drags his hands through it, giggling as it swirls away from him. “It’s kinda tickly?”

Jon opens his mouth to say something, but he’s interrupted as his stomach growls loudly.

Jon looks down at where his prawn crisps fell in his rush to stop Martin and mourns. He’d been looking forward to finishing those… ”U-um. You can have half of my sandwich, if, if you want it.” Martin says, pulling a squashed, cling-wrapped object that the Watcher tells him contains cheese and bread within. “And you can tell me more about these fear things?”

They end up talking so long, Martin’s teacher has to come over to shout at him that it’s time for the school trip to leave.  She looks suspiciously at Jon, so he quickly makes himself scarce as Martin scrambles over to where all of his classmates are lines up in disorderly rows.

Jon hides behind a tree and watches Martin’s school trip leave the park.

Martin Blackwood sticks near the back of the class, even as some other kids keep pushing him every time he slows. When he spots Jon, he smiles widely, and waves his hand. Like Jon’s a friend of his, or something.

Against all logic, Jon tentatively waves back.

Martin can’t come into London often, of course. He lives too far away, up north, and he and his mum aren’t the richest people in the world, from what Jon will later gather. Train rides are a luxury that it’s pushing it to afford, and he’s got to take care of his mum into the bargain.  And it’s not like he can send Jon emails or text messages or letters, given that Jon has very limited access to electronics and no address to send post to.

But somehow, against all odds (and likely using the Forsaken more than is probably healthy), Martin does make the trip down to see Jon, always waiting for him in that playground where they first met.

And Jon gets used to dropping by the park several times a week, just in case Martin’s there.

GIVE ME A REASON: PART FIVE -A Rogue One fanfic

I honestly don’t know this was going to take the detour it did, but hey, that’s fine. Anyway, Jyn is very confused about her attachment to Cassian, and his own messy feelings.

Also on AO3

Part One

Part Two

Part Three

Part Four

Title: Give Me A Reason: Part Five

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Characters: Jyn Erso POV, Cassian Andor

Pairing: Cassian/Jyn (mostly pre-ship?)

Spoilers: Rogue One; Episode IV A New Hope

Setting: Post-Rogue One AU (Cassian & Jyn live); Also during/post A New Hope

Warnings: Implied Bi!Cassian; References to Naked Times in the Shower; Characters being hot messes and confused about Feelings

Words: 3,226

Story Summary: Jyn’s entire universe has been turned on its head, so maybe she’s clinging a little too hard to the one thing she feels certain of (strangely enough) as she tries to figure out her place in the galaxy. And maybe she’s being a little overprotective of a wounded captain.

Also can be found on AO3.

The energy level in the large mess hall was an incongruous mix of highs and lows. Quite a number of people were congregated at various tables, but it wasn’t at capacity. Some groups were chattering away, with a happiness and lightness Jyn honestly couldn’t recall witnessing in anyone in a long, long time, on any planet or moon. But there were other groups, and individuals, that were quiet, lethargic, mostly just nursing cups of restorative drinks and pushing bland food around their plates. Hungover.

Jyn supposed that made sense. Either way, no one was really in a down mood. They were either still excited about the Great Victory, or suffering the consequences from being too excited about it the previous night.

Why did she feel like Cassian and herself were the mopiest pair in the entire mess hall? Yes, it was really gratifying to know that their suicide mission hadn’t been entirely in vain. They had more than succeeded, the plans had been transmitted to the rebels, and the rebels had used them to destroy the Death Star. But still… The feeling of loss weighed heavily on Jyn. And she sensed it was yet another burden laid on Cassian’s shoulders. In a vulnerable, pained moment, he’d told her that maybe it would’ve been better if she’d left him on Scarif when they’d miraculously been spared from the blastwave. And perhaps near the end there (what should’ve been the end), he’d embraced the release from his conscience as hard as he’d embraced her.

She understood. She’d felt the peace there on that beach, as well.

The thing was, she still felt it, with him. Even when filled with other confusing emotions, some of which he was the cause of, she still felt… content… even happy? Was this what happy felt like?

Well, no, maybe not this, not still half-mourning a father she’d lost decades ago but then lost again, mourning the loss of the friends she’d made in just a matter of a day but who had been truer than any others in her life, coming to terms with the guilt of leading so many on a suicide mission, which she then survived.

And Cassian had survived.

“I’ll get the food,” Jyn said after they’d found a table tucked in a corner and Cassian claimed the seat that allowed him to put his back to the wall. (Of course). Jyn would’ve chosen it herself, but she didn’t protest that she would be forced to sit with her back to the entire mess hall. He was rubbing at his leg. The memory of the surgical scars running down his hip and thigh, barely a week old, a fresh pink against olive skin, popped abruptly into her mind. She shoved them aside. “Is there anything specific you want?”

“No.” He was smiling even as he shook his head. “Beggars can’t be choosers. I’m not picky.”

“Me, neither.” Force, sometimes they were so much the same, their lives filled with the same sort of deprivation, that it hurt. It hurt to think of the little boy Cassian had been, not having a favorite food, because having food at all was something to be grateful for. Something Jyn had known herself, still knew, and would never unlearn her associated habits of eating too much (if given the opportunity) and too fast.

“I’ll be right back,” she said and headed towards the serving line.

A couple people stared as she added more than two helpings of everything to her tray, but she thought it was more out of shock over the disproportionate amount of food to her size than anger that she was maybe taking more than her share. By the time she’d collected enough to feed an entire unit of Wookies and headed back to Cassian, two humans in non-uniforms (which wasn’t uncommon for the rebels) had sat down at the table.

They were the type of people who took up more space than they needed. An amateurish attempt at intimidating others through establishing dominance. Jyn had learned to be more wary of those who drew no attention, who lurked in the shadows, who had unassuming appearances disguising a lethality the brazen could never hope to possess.

So it was really just instinct that had her assessing gaze passing over the two trying-too-hard-to-have-swagger rebels to the slight man sitting quietly in the corner. He was a killer, undeniably. But not by choice. And Jyn knew something she thought most didn’t remotely suspect; Cassian Andor was soft deep down inside. And every terrible thing he’d done tortured him. Which made him even more dangerous, especially to Jyn, who she feared may be the only one to have ever seen his vulnerability, his humanity. To everyone else, he was just some Rebel super-spy-assassin, a good little soldier.

He’d locked eyes with her, but neither of his companions had seemed to notice, instead going on about some miraculous feats of badassery during some mission or other.

“You’re in my seat,” Jyn said, interrupting the bigger of the pair mid-sentence.

The man who was easily twice her size froze, puffing himself up when he looked at her, not that he needed to with that bulk of muscle, but his first instinct was obviously to meet her firm tone with aggression. She knew the response of those who’d survived on the streets well. And even if this was no seedy back alley or dive, this was her territory. And she wasn’t going to be the one to back down.

“Am I?” Big man said.

Before Jyn could respond, Cassian’s quiet voice cut in.

“You are.”

The big man looked at the wounded captain and his entire demeanor changed. Apparently, the soldier knew Cassian for the dangerous creature he was.

After a brief moment in which the expression on Cassian’s face gave nothing away, Big Man’s attention returned to Jyn.

“Uh, sorry,” he said, vacating the chair. Setting the heavily-laden tray down, Jyn plopped into the spot opposite Casian as the big guy lumbered off to find another chair, seemingly to rejoin them. Ugh.

Jyn slid the tray across the table in front of Cassian, then dragged her chair to sit directly beside him. There was no way to lift any of the dishes off the tray without losing some of the impressive pile of food. They could share.

She reached across Cassian and grabbed some sort of bread roll and- oh, force, he smelled good, like the cleanser from the shower and freshly washed skin that was silky smooth except for the scars and- she shoved the roll in her mouth before she did something embarrassing like hop onto his lap and bury her face in his neck.

The very large rebel’s companion had remained at the table, and was staring. Yes, at Jyn, but also at Cassian, at the pair of them, at the pile of food she’d torn into but Casian was contemplating eating with an actual utensil like some sort of civilized person. And the man’s gaze dropped, but Jyn knew it wasn’t to assess her attributes, none were visible beneath the loose-fitting clothes she was wearing, Cassian’s clothes. Oh. Right.

“You must be Jyn Erso,” he said and held out a hand, which was surprisingly clean, so Jyn shoved the last bite of roll into her mouth and shook it. Firm but not too firm, and his dark brown eyes were surprisingly soft as they met her gaze, a little guarded and very curious. This one was obviously the more intelligent of the pair.

“That I am,” she said after swallowing the large piece of bread that threatened to lodge in her throat. “And you are…?”

“Oh,” he laughed self-consciously. He had a nice, easy going smile. “Sorry. Yeah. I’m Tarrek Zin.” His large friend returned with a chair. “And this is Utto.”

The giant known as Utto nodded, grunted in response, before sitting down in the chair that was obviously ill-equipped to handle his bulk. A man of even less words than the spy.

“And you’re… friends of Cassian?” she asked, trying not to appear too interested. Who were these people? Cassian didn’t have friends. Not that she’d known him all that long, but she was pretty certain the man was a resolute loner. Aside from K-2SO, who was lost to him now.

“Yes,” Tarrek said at the same time Cassian said, “No.”

She withheld her laughter because Tarrek Zin seemed genuinely a little hurt by the terse captain’s response.

“We’ve worked together before,” Cassian gave as further explanation. “They’re…”

“Freelance,” Tarrek said.

Cassian gave a little snort of laughter. “That’s one way to put it.” He took a larger bite of the mystery protein.

“Oh, what does that mean?” Now, Jyn was intrigued. They were an odd sort to find on a military base, even amongst the ragtag collection of rebels that formed the Alliance. They were both human, Jyn thought, although there could be a bit of something else in the big man, who was surprisingly not unattractive for a bruiser type, with thick brown hair and a symmetrical face with a square jaw and only a small crescent scar on one cheek. The smaller man was by no means small, taller than Cassian, well built with flawless brown skin and a friendly, appealing face with just a hint of scruff neatly trimmed into a goatee. And a charmer’s grin, which he turned on Jyn.

“We find things.”

Again, that ironic little half-laugh from Cassian, who finally looked up from the pile of food.

“They steal things,” he said, pointing his fork at them. “Don’t let Tarrek try to pretty it up. They’re nothing more than thieves.”

“So’s your girl, from what I hear,” Tarrek said. “Didn’t you all find her in Wobani, serving time for forgery and assault amongst many other crimes?”

“She’s not my girl,” Cassian said, not denying her criminal record. And Jyn would be lying if she claimed the denial that she was his girl didn’t hurt a little. Even though it shouldn’t. She wasn’t a possession. And neither was Cassian, so she could stop feeling possessive of him, as well, really-

“Then you’re a free agent?” Tarrek flashed that charming grin of his again, with an edge of mischievousness. And a bit of something else in his eyes as he lookd at Cassian. “Because with the Empire scrambling after the destruction of their favorite new toy, no one’s going to notice if some stray things get found. We could use your skills on at least a dozen different jobs I can think of…” Tarrek shot a brief glance to Jyn before returning his attention to Cassian. “And Not Your Girl for that matter.”

“I think I’ve made it very clear I will not be going on any jobs with you,” Cassian said. “Even if the Alliance thought we’d need someone with your skillset again for some reason, I’d find someone else.”

Oh, wow. That seemed a little harsh, even from the jaded captain. The hurt on Tarrek’s face was blatant, and he looked away. Jyn couldn’t help but think there was some sort of complicated history at play.

“May I…?” Utto asked, indicating the crispy poultry leg sitting near the edge of the tray, the big man oblivious to the undercurrents of the conversation.

“Uh… be my guest,” Jyn said and large, burly fingers snatched it right up. Unsurprisingly, the whole drumstick fit in the man’s mouth. He ate even faster than Jyn, chewing a bit then pulling the bare bone out, picked absolutely clean in less time than it took Cassian to cut another bite off the brick of vegetable-thing or whatever it was. Food. That’s all Jyn needed to know.

“Well, we better get going if we want to get a good seat at the ceremony, seeing as we’re not guests of honor,” Tarrek said, seeming to have recovered from the hurt feelings enough to tease. Cassian made a displeased noise but said nothing as Tarrek got to his feet and locked eyes with the rebel captain. Some sort of weird exchange passed between them, that seemed almost- “The offer always stands if you change your mind.”

“I won’t,” Cassian said, then went back to studiously eating.

Tarrek rolled his eyes but then gave Jyn a broad grin, leaning over to whisper loudly, “You think about it, too, Jyn Erso. Maybe you can convince the captain here not to throw his life away for the rebellion.”

Jyn just gave him a nod, disconcerted about the man’s extremely accurate knowledge of Cassian. Or maybe his unwavering loyalty was just that obvious.

“Let’s get out of here,” Tarrek said to his large companion, who appeared about Wookie-size when he stood up, only beefier.

Utto lingered a moment as his friend walked away, and Cassian frowned at him, that furrow forming between his brows. Jyn’s curiosity was also piqued as the moment stretched out awkwardly long, Utto’s fierce blue-grey gaze scouring Cassian’s face.

Cassian broke first, dropping his fork onto the tray with a clatter and sighing loudly.

“You have something you want to say, Utto?” he asked.

“You hurt Tarrek,” he said. “Don’t change your mind about joining us. Unless you mean it.”

“Understood,” Cassian said. “Is that all?”

“Yeah. That’s it.”

Utto glanced at Jyn, then gave Cassian another assessing look before grunting and shaking his head, then stalked off after his partner.

Cassian returned his attention to the food in front of him, like nothing had happened at all.

“What was that?” Jyn asked, her mind racing, trying to put everything she’d just witnessed into some sort of context.

“Nothing,” Cassian said. “Just two of many I’ve pissed off.”

“But they’re angry because they want you.” Jyn was pretty sure about what she’d just witnessed, albeit confusing.

“The Alliance used them to break into an Imperial facility. We were after intelligence stored there. Tarrek and Utto made out like the bandits they are by stealing the tech stored there and selling it on the black market. It was their most lucrative job ever. They still pick up odd smuggling tasks for the rebellion, but they want me to help them with more heist like that again.”

His face was closed off, but Jyn needed to know if she was right, needed for Cassian to continue to let her in, needed his trust and confidence.

“I get that,” she said, “but they want you… like physically. At least, Tarrek does.”

Cassian met her gaze, slowly closed his eyes, sighed and shook his head.

“I never should’ve kissed him.”

“Oh.” Well, that explained both the heat and the chill in Tarrek’s gaze when he looked at Cassian. Apparently, it hadn’t been just one-sided. And maybe she’d been reading Cassian’s looks, the way he touched her, all wrong. Maybe the intimacy they’d shared in the shower, naked but not uncomfortable, washing one another with tender caresses, had only held sexual undertones on her side. Maybe he wasn’t attracted to her in the same way she was to him. Maybe he- “You er… kiss males?”

“Sometimes,” he shrugged. “When it’s necessary to complete a mission.” He licked his lips. “Sometimes just because I want to.”

Jyn stared at the pile of green puree of what she hoped was a vegetable of some sort, trying to swallow down the stupid feelings clashing inside of her; jealousy and possessiveness, hurt, and even a little bit of titillation contemplating Cassian’s sexual history.

Long fingers skimmed the back of her hand and curled around hers, squeezing gently until she met those rich, dark eyes of his.

“Sometimes I kiss females, too.” He held her gaze so she resisted the urge to stare at his mouth.

“When it’s necessary to complete a mission?”

“And just because I want to.”

Did he want to? Jyn felt like he did, thought everything in the way he looked at her indicated a deep affection and need for her. But at the same time, she knew he wouldn’t, not here in a public place, not when he hadn’t even kissed her when they were alone. Not even when they were naked, standing under the spray of water, his hands buried in her hair, rinsing out the cleanser, her hands wrapped around his waist, helping to support his weight, her skin prickling with the closeness of his body, the caress of his fingers on her scalp, the feeling of his-

“We should get moving,” he said, releasing her hand to push his chair back and stand, looking only a little unsteady on his feet. “We need to find you some clothes that fit.”

“Why?” Jyn said, standing as well and brushing her hand over the front of the loose shirt. At least Cassian wasn’t an extremely large man, or else his clothes would fall right off her. As it was, she’d had to roll up the sleeves of his shirt and tuck as much as possible into the fatigues that she’d belted to cinch in at the waist, which would’ve been entirely hopeless if he wasn’t a lean man. She’d also had to roll up the hems to her ankles. She had no other option than the infirmary shoes. Okay, she looked ridiculous. But she didn’t care. The clothes smelled like Cassian and made her feel perpetually wrapped up in him.

“It’s not exactly fit for being presented to a princess.”

Cassian reached to pick up the tray, which Jyn felt a little bit of guilt for not having completely cleaned of its contents and wasting food, but there had been unforeseen interruptions. She grabbed it before he could, doubting his ability to walk and carry a laden tray a few days after major surgeries and with bones still healing. But had he said,

“Princess?! What princess?”

“Princess Leia will be hosting the ceremony.”

“Oh.” Jyn headed across the mess hall to bus the remains of their meal, perhaps moving a little too quickly for her wounded companion, a sort of panicky nervousness fluttering in her stomach as their potentially being the center of attention approached. It would be brief if they were, she tried to tell herself. The last time she’d been the center of the Alliance’s attention hadn’t gone well. Had, in point of fact, ended in a rogue suicide mission.

“You’ll be fine. She’s Bail Organa’s daughter. Sensible woman. Fierce.”

Jyn shoved the tray into the reclamation unit a little harder than necessary. “And how do you know her?”

Cassian laughed, light and genuine.

“I don’t know her, not personally.” His hand went to her shoulder, seemingly to guide her but she knew the request inherent in it and snaked her arm around his waist to let him lean a little of his weight on her. “Let’s see if we can track down your missing clothes.”

Jyn didn’t care if they couldn’t. Let the princess see her in Cassian’s clothes, let everyone think they were together. Because whether or not he kissed her, whether or not it was romantic, Cassian Andor was hers. Even if he sent her away and she never saw him again while she lived, he would always be hers.

Force, she needed to get a handle on this possessiveness. Because it owned her. He owned her.

His palm came to rest on the back of her neck as they left the mess and headed towards the storage and supply wing of the base. His thumb stroked along her nape and she leaned into him, relaxed as a Savarian cat being petted.

Dank farrik, did she ever belong to him.

RWBY Recaps: Volume 8 “Worthy”

Happy Saturday, everyone! I mean that seriously for once. Regardless of what I have to say about this episode — and as always, there's a lot — I want it on the record that "Worthy" was leagues ahead of... pretty much everything else we've gotten lately. For all of RWBY's continuing problems, there's a level of effort here that I really do appreciate. Especially for the penultimate episode.

Our title, "Worthy," immediately conjures thoughts of Watts' speech about Cinder needing to be "worthy" of the power she craves and, what do you know, our villains work hard to prove their worth this episode. Hallelujah! We start with the heroes though and do you recall how last week I said that our opening may as well be a summary of the whole series since Volume 6, what with the grimm conveniently avoiding the team's airship and them just looking vaguely sad that the people around them are perishing? Well, same here. Or rather, same problems, different flavor. Oscar opens with the question, "What do we do now?" and no sooner has he asked that then the magic portal appears to give him the answer. Useful!

More seriously though, I've been intensely side-eyeing the group's wish since last week. Not (just) because of the awful decision to turn Penny human, but simply because the story emphasized how "smart" the group was, heavily insisting that their portal plan is a masterpiece of well thought out strategy... and I really don't think it is. There was a lot of confusion last episode about how exactly the group was using the vault, with my own interpretation — that they were funneling everyone to Vacuo's vault — proven wrong today, but one of the problems brought up was how Ambrosius could possibly create portals across a kingdom precisely where the group needs them. Yang asks him,

"Can you make a bunch of doorways in Atlas that open at a single spot in Vacuo?"

To which, simply, Ambrosius says no. He'd need, among other things, "coordinates and specs for each door" and "an explanation for bending space and time."

This is why, prior to the very end of "Creation" where we saw portals appearing everywhere, I thought using both vaults was the solution. Ambrosius knows (or can easily receive) the coordinates for his own vault and the one in Vacuo. As weird, alternate dimensions, they're potentially capable of bending space and time as necessary. If you put the portal in Atlas' vault and open it up in Vacuo's vault, you're golden. The only challenge now is getting everyone in the kingdom to the Winter Maiden's vault.

But then... that didn't happen. Apparently the vault just becomes the in-between place for everyone to pass through and the portals appear all over the kingdom, even though the group didn't provide those "coordinates and specs." What they did was show Ambrosius a schematic of the cities. That's not the same thing as telling him precisely where each portal needs to appear — which is what he asked for. I bring this long-winded explanation up not merely to emphasize "RWBY's wish isn't as smart as the story wants you to believe it is" but because this wreaks havoc on who is getting a portal. How did the group tell Ambrosius precisely where to put a portal for Jaune's group? Why didn't they try to make one appear for Qrow and Robyn? Or Winter? Or Pietro and Maria? They had to have been somewhat specific in terms of saying where these portals appeared because if they just wished for everyone to get one, Jacques and Ironwood would have gotten one too. Basically, the portals do appear for characters whose “Worthy” plot now takes place in this in-between space and the portals do not appear for those whose plot is still taking place in Atlas. That's a mess. To say nothing of how it implies that our heroes just don't give a damn about all their other allies — including an uncle (Ruby, Yang) and a father (Penny) — and that, ultimately, Ambrosius did the very thing he initially said wouldn't work. He put a bunch of doors around Atlas that opened on a single point in Vacuo without making the group meet these requirements first. The rest is just a bunch of mumbo jumbo to distract the viewer from the fact that none of this actually makes sense.

But that's a tangent. To get back on track, Jaune's group decides to "spread the word on foot" since they can't contact anyone via their scrolls anymore. What this translates to is Jaune going to one spot and Nora doing the rest of the work because she can suddenly ride her hammer like a broomstick. 

You know what? I'm fine with it. Have we ever seen Nora do this before? Not that I recall. Is it a cute image that feeds my witch-loving brain? Yeeeeeaah.

They're not sure if the portals are safe though and everyone turns to Jaune as the joke test subject. Except everyone else is right behind him when the go through? Even the jokes in this show aren't consistent.

What I do like though is that we get another interesting team split: Oscar, Emerald, and Ren heading to Vacuo while Jaune and Nora help with the evacuation — even though Nora and Jaune aren't actually doing anything together. Still, I can see that (for this volume at least) RT has taken the duo criticisms to heart. It would have been incredibly easy to attach Nora and Ren at the hip again, despite her desire for space, so I'm glad that they're still striving to mix things up a bit.

Nora says that Shade is "armed to the teeth with huntsmen and huntresses." It is? I mean sure, it has its school, but so did Vale. So did Atlas. In fact, we've spent the last two volumes emphasizing that Atlas is really the only armed kingdom remaining. Remember the plan for them to protect the world after knowledge of Salem's existence threw everything into disarray? Well, the people know about Salem now. And Salem herself is attacking. And they're about to slam an entire kingdom into another one. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad Nora ends her observations with the assertation that Vacuo will need as much help as they can get, but that worry feels far, far too late. Where were these concerns when Ruby made her announcement to the world in the first place? The fact that the group never went, "Hey, is it really worth telling people about Salem now when we can no longer provide the protection against the grimm that this announcement will necessitate? Yeah, we need backup, but can they even get here in time? I don't think so. Maybe we should hold off and try to find a way to solve this ourselves. Or, at the very least, just tell them Atlas is facing a massive grimm attack. That won't create quite the same panic as 'Magic immortal lady eager to kill you all' will."

Our heroes only acknowledge these problems when they're already neck deep in them. Forethought is not their strong suit.

For our obligatory humor, the people of Atlas are hiding behind the staircase after the evil portal appeared (weren't there, like, twenty of them in the last episode?) and a brave dude trying to toss a rock through accidentally hits Jaune. He — I kid you not — uses the Atlas huntsmen license gifted to him by Ironwood to gain authority over the group.

Talk about the story being tone deaf.

We segue to a shot of Penny who flies herself through the portal using the Maiden powers, precisely as she would have with her boots. Okay, I try not to pull many "I told you so"s because that's rude, petty, and all around just shit behavior... but boy is it tempting at times. Because RWBY's fandom is so staunchly against criticism that even the most polite pushbacks boil down to an equally rude "Just wait" mentality. Readers of these recaps know we were told to "just wait" for the group to talk to Ozpin. Or "just wait" for them to be punished for their crimes. "Just wait" for the complex forgiveness arc the group is sure to undergo with Emerald. "Just wait" is the go-to response when someone doesn't entirely disagree with our problems with the show, but still believes we're not giving RT enough credit. Most recently, I was told to "just wait" in regards to Penny. We don't actually know that her body is human. We don't actually know that her Maiden powers will still be the same. We don't actually know that this won't be the start of a long journey wherein she has to figure out how to use this new body, both on the battlefield and off. And the issue of RWBY failing to answer any of these questions isn’t valid criticism either because the only point being made here is that we’re not patient and supportive enough. Just wait. RT will prove you wrong. 

Well... Penny's body still appears entirely human, her Maiden powers still work just fine, and now they've given her the ability to create all her old weapons out of aura, meaning she fights exactly the same as she did before.

The only thing making Penny human did was force her to fight barefoot. Oh, and erase her journey of accepting herself as an android. 

Again, I don't want to be that asshole, especially when so many people want the show to be better — just like I do. By all means, hold out hope with me. But before slamming into someone's inbox to explain why they're being too negative because things are bound to be taken seriously down the road, keep in mind the staggering number of times we've decided to "just wait" and nothing ever came of it. Keep in mind that RWBY should be tackling these questions and expectations from the start. Now here we are, disappointed again. We're not pessimistic because we want to be, we're pessimistic because there's a clearly established pattern at play.

So Penny's change is, at this point, meaningless for her development and, at this point, we've lost the chance to introduce challenges later. If RT does, we're forever going to wonder why Penny didn't express any doubts upon waking up in a human body, or why she didn't face any problems while fighting another Maiden. Like Emerald getting the group to laugh and immediately being trusted with important duties, it's too late to suddenly backtrack and insist that there's still work to be done here. RT missed their chance.

That fight is a few minutes off though. For now, Oscar and the others arrive in Vacuo to discover that there's a sandstorm going on. Who could have ever expected that?

Seriously though, this is just one of the many reasons why our heroes come across as stupid. They deliberately chose to send everyone "outside the city limits of Vacuo," in a desert kingdom, after Ruby got the entire world panicked about Salem, and they somehow didn't think that a) weather might be a problem or b) grimm were going to show up? These characters have been though enough shit that they should be planning for the worst and hoping for the best, not planning for the best and assuming the worst just won't happen to them. Why wouldn't they have everyone appear inside the kingdom if they (against Ambrosius' rules) got to choose where everyone ended up? Why in the world would they rely on communications being up when CCT has been spotty since Volume 3 and Watts just took out Atlas’ entire system? Our characters don't think anything through — despite Ambrosius’ claims otherwise — and it makes for some pretty awful characterization. Because RWBY isn't trying to be a story about teenagers seriously messing up their attempts at heroics, it's trying to be a story about True Heroes... and we're just supposed to ignore the endless number of times the group doesn't think the most basic problems through. So now, Oscar and the other stand there doing nothing for the rest of the episode because a sandstorm in the desert threw a wrench in their plans. 

The only reason I didn’t bring this up last week is because I had no idea they had chosen to dump everyone outside of the city. I thought they were going to the vault, or at the very least appearing inside the border. Why wouldn’t you send everyone to the city??

It’s so stupid, but then Cinder arrives and blows a whole bunch of people off the edge of the pathways. HELL YEAH.

I mean, obviously not hell yeah for the poor civilians who just took a tumble, but yay the villain causing some damage. It's small potatoes compared to what we were promised at the end of last volume — Salem decimating a whole kingdom in The Fall of Atlas — but at least it's more than we were getting last week.

So Cinder is having her evil fun when the entire group leaves Penny to go after her. Again, stupid. You're going to leave the girl who (at this point) may not have been in a position to fight with her new body and stands vulnerable with a Relic? Not a single member stays behind to guard her? It would have served Team RWBY right if Neo had shown up and just clocked Penny, taking a second Relic for herself.

Cinder taunts the group with information she shouldn't have: “Your little friend Oscar was right, but the easy part ends here" then mimics them with the question "How’d you know about that?” at their shocked looks. This starts a flashback where we return to Cinder, Neo, and Watts in the alleyway. 

Again Cinder is given more development than a supposed hero like Emerald, apologizing to Neo for not upholding her end of their bargain. In fact, Cinder displays more growth here than our entire title characters combined, it's just that her growth turns her into a better villain. She apologizes to Neo, compliments Watts as a means of acknowledging the work he's accomplished — “You tore this kingdom apart with nothing but your intellect. How about we finish what you started?” — and tells the heroes that she did learn something from them: “Sometimes, if you want to win, you simply can’t do it alone.” 

I quite like all of this. Again, not that Cinder should be our biggest threat with Salem on the scene, but if you remove that context this is a great moment for her. She's actually learned something, but instead of following in the rather abrupt and, in Hazel's case, nonsensical footsteps of her peers, what she's learned has made her more dangerous, not a sudden, convenient ally. Since Volume 7 RWBY has hammered home the idea that only friends can truly be a good team and now, well, Cinder is kind of making friends. She's apologizing to Neo. She seems glad that Watts is happy. RWBY took the concept of working together and applied it to our villains with devastating effect. Team RWBY has been skating by on the idea that power comes from friendship, so what happens if your enemies become weird friends too?

To be clear, this doesn't erase the staggering number of other problems with Cinder's character, or the villains as a unit, or the volume as a whole... but it is an interesting step in the right direction. Props for that.

Granted, outside of the fight itself, the villains don't really win because they're smart, the heroes are just — again — staggeringly stupid. Cinder promises to get Ruby for Neo if she can ask Jinn a question... which she does! 

This moment could have been avoided if our heroes had just put the Lamp in the vault. Or not had Oscar carrying it around. Or used up the wish after they'd already summoned Jinn. Cinder's victory here rests entirely on her own enemies' ineptitude. At least she has the smarts to exploit it. She asks Jinn what the group's plan is and our three villains are shown the revelation outside after saving Penny and the discussions that took place in the dining room. They learn everything they need to inflict maximum chaos.

And it’s great. 

Three other details of note:

Cinder spots Emerald with the heroes during Jinn's vision, but doesn't have much of a reaction beyond her expression tightening.

Jinn looks sad when she reveals the group's plan, reinforcing the idea that she's biased towards our heroes. I'd be more on board with that characterization if a) she weren't created by Light whose own Good Guy persona is dubious at best, and b) she wasn't so cruel towards Ozpin. Again, it's just this strange insistence that everyone adore Ruby Rose.

Neo reveals the Relic by pulling it out of Roman's hat. Uh... is that how hats work? They contain objects twice their height? While resting on someone's head? This wasn't one of Neo's illusions, she literally just pulled it out like a real world magician. That's weird. Showy, but weird.

Anyway, the flashback continues as the villains infiltration the Atlas military headquarters. I really enjoyed the music and cinematography here. It's a strangely uplifting tune — rather Cinderella-esque — which doesn't appear to work until you remember that these moments are through Cinder's perspective. Of course this is a Happy Ending for her — even if it's not for the audience. The quick cut between her summoning some fire and the whole room alight, bodies everywhere, was an excellent touch.

The happiness of this moment is then emphasized by Neo skipping as she beats people and Watts admitting that this is "everything I’ve ever wanted." I'm really digging the contrast between this scene's celebratory nature and the knowledge that the story is celebrating the wrong characters. It creates an enjoyably uncomfortable feeling for us and helps flesh out the villains more. From their perspective, life is good.

There's even a shot of that #1 Dad mug. Sometimes, RWBY gets it right.

Watts in particular is enjoying himself. He snags a discarded apple — no fairy tale symbolism there, I'm sure — and casually rubs the blood off it before taking a bite. This guy has style! 

Watts watches Jaune try to send out his message to the kingdom and cuts communication at the worst possible moment. But then, we knew that already.

Elsewhere in the facility, Robyn and Qrow are trying to round up the Ace Ops. They all feel Atlas shake, realizing that the group has used the Relic, and Elm is appropriately horrified. "They'll destroy the kingdom!" Robyn says some self-righteous words about how a kingdom is made up of its people, not the land it exists on, which, while ignoring the importance of land to so many cultures, completely ignores that right now the majority of people are still on Atlas, or below it, including them. "They set the house alight!" someone cries. "Who cares about a stupid house," Robyn says, uncaring that the entire family still resides inside and she's starting to inhale smoke.

As Robyn tries to paint herself as a hero, Watts hacks one of the droids and sets it to self-destruct, telling it to run full-tilt at the group. Their weapons don't stop it and at the last second Marrow throws himself in front to take the blast, shattering his aura. Uh... after everything we've seen in this show, a single, small explosion wipes out his aura? I don't care about that so much here, but I absolutely care about it for an upcoming scene. Keep this in mind.

Also, I'm not going to get into the potential problems of trying to execute Marrow, beating up Marrow, and then blowing up Marrow. Others can tackle that leviathan of a subject.

At least he survived? But only RT knows if Robyn and Qrow bothered to put him on their ship.

Because as Atlas begins to fall Harriet, free of Marrow's semblance, races for an airship going off the edge of the open parking garage. Idk what else to call that space. I'm sure there's something appropriately military-esque, but we're going with parking garage for now lol. This is the one — one — moment where I felt like the Ace Ops were actually written like they weren't friends, what with Harriet's willingness to race off and leave them behind. Again though, it's too late and there are, frankly, other aspects to consider. Like the fact that Marrow just betrayed her. I don't think she's in the right mind for trusting the rest of her team, especially when there are only seconds to save herself.

Vine uses his stretchy arms to grab hold of her ship though and heaves himself on board.

Cutting to the jail, Ironwood wakes up and is greeted with a despondent Jacques. As Ironwood realizes that the group has the Staff, Jacques goes, "That's right, you lose! … we both lose." Before there can be any interesting discussion though, Ironwood's cell... goes out???

I suppose the explanation for this is things falling apart as Atlas descends, but man is that another moment of head-scratching convenience. What's even worse is that Winter apparently just left his weapons beside the cell. "Hey, what should we do with Ironwood's giant gun?" "Idk, leave it for him on the off chance us removing the city's power source wreaks havoc with the electrical bars?" I mean seriously. At least Qrow had to go find his weapon in a locker.

For a second Jacques is thrilled, sure that Ironwood will open his cell too... right?

He does open the cell, by blasting the whole thing to smithereens, Jacques included.

You all know I'm horribly disappointed with how they've written Ironwood, but I can't bring myself to dredge up any fury over this murder. It's Jacques. You know, the abuser and slave owner who has never shown a single shred of decency? Can't say I'm sorry to see him gone, especially since one of the Schnee girls were never going to kill him. The only other thing they could have done was have Jacques die an accidental death.

So villain!Ironwood can have another murder, as a treat.

Meme jokes aside, it's interesting that Ironwood's never-seen-before-last-episode gun produces a green blast and fire. It looks incredibly similar to what Penny created as an android and the fire around her Maiden eyes. Unlike Watts' apple though, I don't think this is a parallel RT intentionally included. Not unless we want to dig deep for more “Metal bodies = evil” symbolism, but there’s already plenty more persuasive examples of that. 

Returning to Team RWBY, we finally come to the highlight of the episode: Yang falling off the edge.

Okay, I want to praise RWBY for having the guts to kill off a main character... but we all know they haven't killed off a named character. If next episode — or perhaps even next volume — it's revealed that Yang is really dead, I'll happily eat these words. For now though, this is not the consequence that RWBY critics have asked for. This is, in fact, quite a mess.

Let's count up all the ways this scene has failed spectacularly.

No one believes that Yang is actually dead. Not just because she's a title character, not just because Ambrosius never confirmed that the void was deadly or even dangerous — "Don't fall," however ominous, doesn't actually tell us what happens to someone who falls — but also because we have been here before. Three volumes ago. Remember how it looked like Weiss would die only for Jaune to unlock his semblance and save her? Yeah. The audience is both genre and RWBY savey. This cliffhanger feels cheap because absolutely no one is fooled.

Feel familiar? 

Worse, Yang falls because of another round of stupidity. Nothing about this moment is convincing.

First, she notices Neo sneaking up on Ruby. What's her reaction? To flare her semblance, charge her in fury, and be horribly injured. Oh wow, where have we seen this before?

This is the exact same series of events from Volume 3. A loved one of Yang's is about to be harmed, she gets mad, charges without thinking, and takes the brunt of the attack herself, resulting in a far more serious injury than likely would have otherwise occurred. Emotionally understandable, but stupid. More importantly, it's the exact thing Tai tried to warn her about. The fandom praised Yang's arc because she got a moment of calm with Mercury, but since then we’ve ignored that development, reverting Yang to the same, impulsive fighter as before. Volume 6 showed us this problem in a non-combat setting and this moment solidifies it. Yang has learned absolutely nothing since Beacon. She's the same protective, reckless fighter she was back then, getting herself grievously injured because she can't think before she acts. What was the point of sending her on that journey if she was never going to improve? 

Neo cuts through Yang's aura in a single hit. A single hit. These characters have long, drawn out fights filled with crazy attacks and you're telling me a single slice of Neo's weapon is enough to shatter Yang's aura? Really, aura has been an absurd plot device for a while, but this volume has been particularly bad. Ren's aura breaks so the group is spotted by Salem's grimm, but then is back just a few minutes later so he can see purple petals around Emerald. Jaune's aura is said to be running just as low, but then is totally fine to boost Penny for the next hour until she reaches the vault. Now, Yang has had just as much time to rest as they do, but she’s instantly taken out?

This is a problem not because the loss of aura itself sends her over, but because the hit was apparently so powerful Yang passes out. She's groggy at least, blearily looking at everyone as she falls, but not reacting to them and, importantly, not trying to save herself. 

Yang could have reached for Blake's throw. She has a landing strategy. She could have blasted herself up, or towards any of the three paths she falls past. Instead she just... plummets. In a show where our characters are introduced through their ability to survive being launched off a cliff. Neo's attack needs to be miraculously incapacitating to justify — "justify" — Yang doing nothing to get out of this situation, in an episode where, minutes later, Ren's aura will also go out (again) but he's standing up and ready to fight a horde of grimm. But losing her aura through one hit somehow incapacities Yang?  

Also, to ward off the expected claims: she didn't hit her head. Yang's back hit the path and her eyes were closed before she ever made contact. Neo's hit just... knocked her out.

That's absurd.

Worse than her not helping herself, no one else on her team helps either. Except Blake. Ruby, who this volume has learned that she is basically able to teleport and negate the mass of carrying someone else, doesn't fly towards her sister. Weiss, who can summon flying grimm and create platforms for someone to land on, just reaches out a hand. They all had time to do something, Blake's action is proof of that, but neither of them did. Why? Because the show wants this to be a bees moment. I say that not as someone who hates the ship, but as someone who loves it. Or at least, I've always loved its potential, but if you need to prove their devotion by erasing the devotion of others... that's incredibly bad writing. And that's what this is. The choice to have Blake the only one capable of acting sends the message that she loves Yang enough to overcome the shock of her falling. That love powers her to act. But Yang is Weiss’ teammates too! Yang is Ruby's sister.

You’re telling me neither of them had the drive to push past shock and save her? 

I find it particularly insulting that Weiss comforts Blake rather than crumbling in grief herself. I find it doubly insulting that Blake cries and screams, but Ruby stoically continues her fight with Neo. In trying to show Blake's love for Yang — and hers in turn — the show has unintentionally pulled back on the love everyone else has, even between siblings. This is a far more harmful repetition of Yang's moment in the outpost: she cares more about the imagined disagreement with Blake than she does the actual fight she had with Ruby. Blake shows more emotion for Yang's assumed death than her sister has. You can't prove love by diminishing it elsewhere. The scene 100% needed all three girls doing everything in their power to save Yang, failing, and then continuing the fight while expressing the appropriate emotion for such a massive loss. Ruby can fly towards Yang and be pinned by Cinder. Weiss can start to summon and have an attack disrupts it. Ruby can scream and cry while she fights Neo. Again: that's her sister.

There's nothing about this scene that works for me and honestly? After Yang returns they better kiss. Or there better be an "I love you." Something canonical. There will never be a better, more obvious time for a confession than after Blake thinks she's lost Yang for good and if we don't get one... the ship has well and truly sunk. We're living in a post-Supernatural finale world. You can no longer take your one, implied to be queer main couple, toss one into this fantasy's version of super hell, give them a second chance together... and then leave things dangling. RWBY has to make them canon when Yang returns if they have any hope of maintaining a large portion of their queer fanbase.

As a final note on this scene, I don't like what it implies about both Blake and our lost civilians. Like Yang, (and like Penny last episode) this attack undermines the growth our characters have undergone. Yang learns not to attack out of emotion with her semblance... and then does just that. Penny learns that she's a person with an android body... and then gets a human body to make her perfect. Blake realizes that she isn't willing to kill people in this war anymore... and then goes after Neo with an intensity that implies she's ready to kill her. It's a detail that might have been meaningful if Blake's struggle had existed in more than a single line in a single scene. As it is, it just feels like they've forgotten — or are ignoring — another character beat they introduced. 

As for our civilians, will the show bring them back too? Look, I'm pleased Cinder blew them off the edge. I'm glad there were finally consequences for the kingdom-wide attack, even if none of have to come about from our main antagonist. But that impact was erased the second they threw Yang off the edge too. If they bring only her back, Team RWBY look like assholes who only care about their friends, not all the people they were charged with protecting (a recurring theme in this series). If they do bring the civilians back, we've lost that consequence. RWBY never should have tossed a title character into that void especially when, as said, everyone watching knows it's not a real consequence of this fight.

This was a terribly crafted scene, imo. If the only purpose here is to push the bees to confess, we could have gotten that after the whale. Yang was captured by Salem. That's more than enough danger to justify coming clean about feelings and the volume could have easily been reworked to make Blake aware of that danger, forcing her to stew in it until Yang returned, unharmed.

Instead we get this.

Also, I don't even want to get into the implications of having Yang disappear in a cloud of glittering gold dust like Pyrrha did. That's a world building rabbit hole RWBY really doesn't need.

So Yang is gone but obviously not gone. Blake is the only one impacted by this enough to react emotionally. Penny hears her scream and comes running, showing the viewer that absolutely nothing had changed despite getting an entirely new body. 

Cinder weirdly throws her voice — has she done that before? — to distract Penny and the fight continues, with Neo going after Ruby and Blake going after Neo. There's a moment where Blake realizes that Weiss is in trouble too, looking between her two teammates, unsure of who to help. 

I'm calling it now: Blake will be the third semblance upgrade, splitting herself into multiple fighters capable of functioning independently, rather than just shadow clones to take hits.

It would make as much sense as anything else.

Cinder at least is fighting smart, attacking the civilians rather than Weiss directly, then blowing her glass up in Weiss' face. She then manages to catch herself in the air, but, you know, couldn't do the same for Yang.

At the very least don't have Weiss using these abilities seconds later, c'mon.

We thankfully leave this nonsense for, well... more nonsense. Vine and Harriet get into a fight about what Clover would have wanted, which means nothing to the viewer because we didn't know Clover long enough to develop that sense for ourselves. I'm sorry, but following an order to peacefully bring Qrow in for questioning is not proof that he would have seen things through in the sense of blowing up Mantle, yet that's what we're supposed to believe based on Harriet's assertions and Vine's take that "perhaps Clover was wrong." I really hate that RWBY has taken to bashing the guy before he had the chance to actually do anything. Everyone is criticizing Clover based on lies or assumptions about what he might have done if, you know, he hadn't been murdered. Qrow blames Clover for defending himself, not his own choice to team up with Tyrian. Robyn asserts that Qrow is a better huntsmen than Clover, even though the one scene they had together was Robyn deciding to attack Clover because she didn't like him doing his job. Now Vine is like, "Yeah, Clover might have tried to blow up a kingdom needlessly, but maybe he was wrong and a bad person, you know?" I don't even like Clover that much, but the story has really gone out of its way to criticize him when he's obviously not around to prove, disprove, or otherwise defend himself. That’s messed up. 

The one good part about this scene is Harriet losing it, all her firm beliefs crumbling to reveal just an aching grief for losing Clover. Hark, is this humanity for the other Ace Ops I see? Some development and characterization? Vine reaching out sympathetically to comfort her because they've always been a team, no matter what Ruby might say about it?

Oh wait, no. They're interrupted by Robyn screaming as she slams her ship into theirs.

I think Robyn is, officially, my least favorite character in the series. Which isn't to say there aren't objectively worse characters than her — we saw one get blown up this episode — but no one has this particular combination of horrible acts, self-righteous attitude, and an absolute dearth of other positive qualities to distract from that. Robyn has brought nothing to the last two volumes except frustration and I can only hope she goes off to do her own thing when our finale is done.

Qrow goes feral, turning into a bird and changing at the last second to slam through Harriet's window. He taunts her about getting the fight she wanted and we see Watts hacking her ship while they're distracted.

Watts, I'm really loving the evil schemes, but don't you want to, uh... leave? Atlas is falling and you're one of maybe three people left on it. Best get a move on, chop, chop.

Those other two people are Winter and Ironwood, both of whom have come to the vault looking for Team RWBY. Ironwood lands a hit with his new gun, giving a short speech about how though he was always on the lookout for betrayal, he never expected it from her. He tells Winter to stand aside as his final order, to which she replies, “I’ve never wavered in fighting the enemies of this kingdom," preparing to fight.

I've explained the problems with Ironwood's downfall ad nauseam. I don't think that's needed again here. However, there are two final points I'd like to make.

Winter's characterization took a hit along with Ironwood's. Why didn't he think she'd ever betray him? Because they clearly cared for one another. The fact that Winter so quickly and easily gave up on Ironwood is a disservice to both of them. Even in the throes of being an emotionless killer, we still understand Ironwood's devastation at this betrayal: his shock when Winter attacked, his request that she step aside now, the single tear. 

There's nothing like that on her end. No denial that the man she faithfully followed would do this. No insistence that the man who helped her escape her abusive upbringing be reasoned with. Nothing. Winter dismisses Ironwood with the same callousness the narrative has.

Which brings me to my second point: this isn't hopeful. I know the Emerald lovers don't want me making comparisons, but the story has already done that for us. You can't give us an all out villain — someone responsible for countless deaths across the series, attacks on kingdoms, lying to our heroes, willingly working for the enemy  — and say that it's good to forgive her instantly, but it's not acceptable to even consider forgiving the man who has also killed, also threatened to attack a kingdom, was honest with our heroes, and always fought against the enemy. You can't give us an entire story about hope and forgiveness — Ruby reaching out to Raven, Weiss wanting to rescue Jacques, Oscar putting all his trust in Hazel — while saying that this character isn't worth compromising with. This character needs to be denounced to the whole world so there's no possibility of forgiveness. This character will commit horrific acts and his allies will immediately jump ship, but others? Their horrific acts are forgiven the moment you give them a way out. I'm supposed to believe that Yang, who knew Emerald only as the woman who attacked her school and has helped make their lives a living hell since then, will laugh with her within an hour, but Qrow, after years of being an ally and friend to Ironwood, is suddenly ready to murder him over an arrest he had no context for? That Ruby will try to make peace with every enemy she comes across, but not the guy who was the ally she betrayed? That Winter would extend more compassion to her abusive father than the man who helped her escape that? Ironwood's downfall isn't just horribly written, it messes with RWBY's core themes. Everyone deserves a second chance, is worth crying over, is worth reaching out to no matter how many horrible things they've done... except this guy here.

And when that guy is the PTSD riddled military vet who crumpled in large part because the heroes continually lied to, betrayed, and took extreme action rather than working to find a compromise... that's a really bad take. That shows a lot of bias on the part of RT. They're trying to write a story about the evils of the institution, but think they can reduce that to the evils of a single man driven to the brink. That doesn't send a teachable message to the audience and it certainly doesn't send a hopeful one. All it does is reiterate that if you rip away someone's support network when they're already falling they will, shockingly, fall harder.

Which brings us back to characters like Emerald. Because no, no one has to help Ironwood. When someone is hurting you and committing the crimes he has this volume, no one is required to extend a hand at their own, personal peril. But when the narrative is so heavily pushing forgiveness for other mass-murderers? When child torturers are extended a hand during the torture? That reframes everyone abandoning Ironwood into something unpalatable. Having Ironwood’s allies, friends, and really, family, so quickly toss him aside while other, equally bad people are welcomed in says that everyone struggling like him isn’t worth the effort. From a genre perspective, this isn’t a tragedy because the characters don’t care. No one is striving to bring Ironwood back from the brink. No one is crying over the man they lost. Hazel gets a moment of silence as Emerald kneels, stricken in the aftermath of his death, but one of the heroes since Volume 2 gets nothing but hateful looks from his second. 

But we all knew we'd end up here. My current theory? The portal should still be open at the vault. Winter will fight Ironwood, escape through it, and it will close right before he escapes too. He'll fall with Atlas and everyone will act as if it's some beautiful, poetic justice for him to perish with the city. 

Here’s hoping I’m very wrong! 

Finishing with Oscar's group, Ren's aura breaks after trying to mask everyone coming through the portal. Oscar realizes that Penny should have come through by now and runs back to find her, only to discover that the portal is closed on this side. Why? Because Weiss wished for a "one way trip to Vacuo." Not only is this another example of our heroes being stupid — they come up with this complicated wish that doesn't actually makes sense, but don't bother to be careful with their words like Ruby was when helping Penny? — but it also just... doesn't add up? How does Oscar know what Weiss wished for? How does Ozpin? (His one line in the episode.) They recall this together, the flashback acting like a memory, but neither of them were there. Neither was Ren. Neither was Emerald. They haven't spoken to the Relic group since separating.

It looks like RT still needs to edit their scripts.

As Oscar realizes they're trapped, the emotions of the group summons a huge number of grimm to the area. At this point, my only thought was why none of them had used the time Ren was buying them to try and find Vacuo. I mean, they're not the only fighters with semblances here. They have the Happy Huntresses too and, I would think, the Atlas students (unless the army was abandoned like Pietro and Maria were. Where are Neon and Flynt?) There's no one in this huge crowed with an ability that might make scouting ahead a little safer? No one is even going to try and figure some plan out? Everyone on these teams is too passive. They encounter a problem — where's the city? — and instead of trying to solve it while they can, while they’re in a good position to, they wait around until the situation becomes unimaginably worse and they have to figure something out or risk dying. Now, the people are being carried off by grimm, they know something has gone wrong on the pathways, and Ren is about to enter another fight without his aura. Let's hope he doesn't take a hit like Yang.

Summary of "Worthy"? Excellent villains, terrible heroes. It's better than what we've gotten in a while, but choices like Yang's fall ensures it's still not good. Given the trajectory of the volume, it was inevitable that we would end up here: moments that look significant at first glance, but are (quite likely) no more than window dressing in the long run.

Finally, bingo is rather boring this week. Unsurprising, considering we're almost out of space. I'm keeping our "Army of grimm conveniently doesn't kill any civilians" square checked because the point there was for Salem to kill people, not for the group to lead the refuges into a grimm infested desert. We'll have to see how many people they lose though and whether Atlas "somehow survives." Here, like Robyn, I'm talking about the citizens, not the now clearly doomed hunk of land. At this point, Oscar doesn’t seem to at all care about his near death experience, but I'll hold off on that square until we're truly done, and there's still a near certain possibility that Ironwood will die, with a likely possibility that Qrow grabs a bottle when first given the chance. What RWBY has avoided though is a Jacques-Watts team up 2.0. Considering, you know, Jacques is dead.

Gold star for not doing the expected, iffy thing, RWBY.

That's the square I would have least minded seeing though 😬

Anyway, finale next Saturday, folks! What insanity will the end bring? Only time will tell. But I can't wait to see what state the fandom will be left in for hiatus!

Until then 💜

When Our Hands Next Meet

Series summary: Soulmates are given memories of their past lives when their hands touch. For Virgil and Logan, each memory is happier than the last.

This series was created for @analogicalweek and made in collaboration with the lovely @birdsongisland! They made this amazing piece for this this work; go support them with reblogs so it can be seen!

Credit to birdsongisland for beta reading this as well! You’re input means a lot and I’m truly grateful.

Chapter 2: The Lines Trace Back to You

Chapter Summary: Logan and Virgil share a quiet moment away from their ship as Logan tells stories with the stars.

Day 2 Prompt: Song/Stars

Warnings: none. If there are others please let me know!

WC: 1349

AO3 link

Taglist (ask to be added or removed): @ace-in-a-shopping-cart @janus-is-an-adorable-snek-boi @logans-library @im-an-anxious-wreck @edupunkn00b

The night was still and calm, bringing a quiet respite for the crew of a ship docked on the beach nearby. Waves lapped quietly at the ships hull and lulled even the most dutiful night watcher into a light slumber, entrusting the safety of their fellow shipmates to the vast expanse of peaceful nothing that lay beyond the beach. Soft winds whistled through the sparse trees and kicked up the sand at their bases, irritating the crabs hiding underneath as they hastened to rebury themselves before sunrise. Crickets sang out the last notes of their songs while birds chirped the first of theirs. Up on a nearby hill a man sighed blissfully, hidden from view even from the keenest of eyes and leaning back to relax into the sturdy chest behind him.

Virgil felt a low rumble against his back and smiled, tilting his head back to look at what his designated pillow could be laughing at. Deep green eyes met a deeper blue and not for the first time he felt himself get lost in the other’s gaze. He would sooner throw himself off his own ship in a storm than admit he might be a sap but those eyes had always compromised any notion he might have had that his heart was anything other than soft. A hand came up to cup his jaw and he closed his eyes to feel the ghost of a kiss brush against his forehead. Too soon the feeling passed, replaced instead with the hand crossing over to grip his shoulder and pull him tighter into the heat that radiated off the body behind him. In the chill of the early morning he had never been more grateful to have a living space heater to call his own.

Nuzzling back as Logan rested their chin on top of his head he sighed happily, pouting slightly as another chuckle jostled his position somewhat. He brought his hand up to tap at Logan’s arm to get their attention, snapping out quick motions with his fingers when he was sure he had it.

"What’s so funny?"

“You’re too easy to rile up.” Logan answered affectionately. “I was just thinking how lucky I am to see this side of you. You give orders all day like you were born to the violence of the sea and yet cling to me like a damsel in distress when away from prying eyes. It’s cute.”

Laughing outright as their forearm was bit gently in warning they brought their other hand up to comb through Virgil’s fluffy hair, earning a content purr for their efforts which they figured meant their apologetic offer had been accepted. They leaned back against the tree again, tightening their grip to bring Virgil with them so they could gaze up at the sky. It was still dark enough to see the stars relatively clearly, the barely there threat of dawn lighting the horizon just enough to show the purple of the other’s hair. They hummed softly in triumph as they found what they were looking for, bringing their hand up to point at a cluster of stars. 

“Can you see that bright star there? Slightly left of the treeline?” They waited until Virgil tapped his confirmation before continuing. “There are three more dimmer stars that sort of make a line see? And crossing them are three stars with a row of three set right on the edge making a curve shape. Altogether they resemble a swan.”

Virgil tapped their arm again that he understood as he relaxed completely into the secure hold. He always loved to hear Logan talk about stars- a lot of the time the only thing they were used for was navigation, old stories forgotten and rewritten to better suit a life of sailing the seas. But when Logan talked about them there were always stories attached that dated back to Roman philosophers or amazonian astrologists. Where Virgil had been trained to see calculations in the sky Logan told of great battles won and lost, of Great Hunts led by archers on elk and bears doomed to wander the void for eternity- all told with the deep rumbling voice he had grown accustomed to falling asleep to when the night allowed it.

“It’s called Cygnus.” That voice called Virgil’s attention back from his wandering thoughts. “It’s Greek history is quite dreary, as the stories of their gods tend to be. But it’s relevance in Hinduism is quite lovely. It correlates with Brahmamuhurtha which translates to ‘a moment in the universe’. Between 4:24 and 5;12 in the morning is supposed to be a favorable time to do anything important or get a running start to the day. It’s a much better story to whatever family drama the Greek Gods had to earn them a constellation.”

Virgil snorted at the last bit; even if Logan knew almost everything there was to know when it came to Greek, Roman and Norse mythology they held a particular disdain for the dramatic and hyperbolized tragedy that made up the majority of the former’s myths and legends. Often if he needed a distraction from something Virgil would start them up on a rant about who should have talked to who about this certain subject so that this group of people wasn’t doomed to be cursed because of those people’s actions. Once Virgil had left the room to do a small task in the next one over, surprisingly unnoticed by Logan who had continued pacing and ranting like he had never left, voice carrying clearly through the walls all while ripping Zeus a new one for not being able to quote “Just keep it in his pants.”

Deciding the air was much too peaceful to start up another one of those discussions he instead raised his hands so Logan could see them, black nail polish glinting in the first rays of dawn as he signed. “What would you be doing right now, with your moment in the universe? Would you be back home waking up at dawn to feed the cows instead of leading a life of crime?”

Smiling, Logan shook their head. They hadn't thought when they were a teenager that someday they'd be sailing around on a pirates’ ship with one of most ruthless (as far as rumors went) crews in all the seas. They’d been trying to swipe Virgil’s coinpurse, not knowing who he was at the time, and had of course been caught before the bag had even left the pirate’s belt. The moment their skin had touched however, a thousand and one lives had flashed in an instant, leaving them blinking in astonishment into green eyes that glimmered with reserved mischief and buried kindness. 

Prayers they hadn’t even known they had had been answered that day as an anonymous envelope containing the money their family had needed was found on their doorstep along with hidden coordinates along the edge that was thankfully overlooked by their mother. They missed her some days but their life had taken a better turn when they had turned up on the boat at the crack of dawn, hauling themself over the railing and waving the envelope at the person who had their face pinned to the deck with their sword before they could breathe a word. Home? That was with Virgil. Looking down at the man still curled comfortably in their lap worrying at his bottom lip they expressed as much in earnest.

“I’d be right here, doing exactly as I am right now. You are my moment always, and there’s nowhere else in the universe that I’d rather be.”

Tracing lines in the freckles on their cheeks, Logan felt Virgil spell out “sap” on their cheekbones, making them grin and lean over to cup the other’s cheeks in their own hands. 

“All the lines between the stars- they all trace back to you my love.” 

The hill obscured the kiss shared between them from any eyes that may have wandered in their direction, allowing only the stars to bear witness to their moment in the universe.

Previous     Next

Little Lady Part 3

Joker x Reader NSFW Spoiler for Joker’s backstory

“J-Joker! T-there! Right th-!!” Y/N’s back arched sharply and her nails bit into the man’s back as he groaned into her ear. When she finally felt her muscles loosening and her body sank back into the mattress Y/N let out a small laugh. Her body ached all over but in a really good way and she appreciated that Joker had made sure to fall to the side of her rather than on top of her. She could hear him chuckling between gasps for breath and if she had been able to speak without her heart leaping out of her mouth then she would have asked why he was so pleased with himself. It was pretty obvious though; he had just turned her entire world upside down with just his mouth, hands and cock. The man was awkward in most situations but he was not lacking in bedroom skills. From their first kiss mere months ago Y/N could tell she was in for a good time… The rain pounded down violently around them as the two took shelter under a shop awning, it didn’t often rain and Y/N figured it would be over soon. Joker shrugged off his long, black coat and placed it over her shoulders after seeing her shiver and his arm hadn’t retreated from around her, “This wasn’t how I expected our date to end, Little Lady…” “Date?” Y/N snorted and looked at him to see if he was serious, “You literally kidnapped me from my room as soon as I finished work and forced me to eat food with you at a manga cafe… That’s not a date. That’s a crime.” Joker laughed almost bashfully, his fingers scratching at his scalp as he apologised - not sounding sorry at all. She sighed at him and shook her head; he was trying his best. “Next time, ask me so we can arrange a time and a place, then it can be called a date.”

“Sure, sure.” They went quiet after that, both of them watching the rain like it was their first time seeing it and Joker blinked in surprise when Y/N stepped out into it, water bounced off her skin and made a pitter-patter sound on his coat. “You’ll catch a cold…” He watched as she stretched her hands up to the sky and closed her eyes as the rain hit her face. She looked so serene. He couldn’t help but join her, his tongue poking out to catch droplets on it. The water cooled his skin and it felt good to experience it again - After years of being trapped in The Nether with the Shadows and rarely seeing rain, it always felt good. Y/N smiled at him and he felt like his heart had skipped a beat; it was one of the most honest smiles he had ever seen on her face, “It’s almost as good as feeling the sun for the first time, right?” “You say that like you were locked away in the dark all your life.” How was she able to echo how he felt about the sun and the rain when she had always had them, she’d been born free - yet she sounded like she hadn’t. She looked so pretty, so happy that without thinking he stepped into her and covered her mouth with his. Joker wasn’t a stranger to kissing or sex, it was something that didn’t require getting attached, it released tension and he enjoyed the feeling of floating afterwards. He had already learned that getting too close to people and living with them got them killed. Sex was easy, it was something that could be had with a stranger, someone he didn’t get attached to and would possibly never see again. With Y/N it felt different, his lips tingled as they met hers and when she melted into his embrace, letting him slip his tongue into her mouth, Joker felt like it was the first time kissing again. Her hands slid up his back to tangle into his wet hair and caught in his eyepatch strap; he pulled back to remove her hand gently. “Careful, Little Lady…”

Joker’s long finger poking her in the ribs brought Y/N back to the present and she turned her head to look at him, “I asked if you needed anything, did I short circuit your brain during that last orgasm?” He lifted himself onto his forearms as he asked, his hair was a mess from where she had pulled it and his grin was far more relaxed than its usual exaggerated state.

Y/N stretched her arms over her head, “Pretty sure you short-circuited my vagina…” She felt his hair tickle her skin as it brushed over her when he leaned in to kiss her.

“Little Lady, you have such a way with words,” Joker dragged her onto her side when he rolled onto his back, letting her rest her head on his shoulder whilst he lit a cigarette. It used to annoy her, the way he chain-smoked, that was until she realised that he never seemed to stink of tobacco and the smoke he blew out and mouthed into shapes didn’t make her cough. Were they even real cigarettes or had he thought they just looked cool? Her fingers found their way into his hair and she combed through it until it was more presentable, they caught in the string of his eyepatch, as they always seemed to do, and Joker swiftly caught her hand in his and held it against his chest. “Did you get the flowers?” he asked, “Did I do it right this time?”

Y/N nuzzled into his neck, “I did, thank you. It was sweet and yes, you did it right… you didn’t rip them out of someone’s garden - roots and all.” Her Captain had questioned the roses and she had explained that it was nothing to worry about. Glancing up at his face Y/N smiled softly at him, “You know I don’t mind if you screw up a little, right?” She lifted her head to kiss his chin, “It just means you’re learning.”

They were in a hotel he had organised as a surprise for her, she was technically on duty but had been given errands to run; with his help, she’d gotten it done in no time and was now free to spend the remaining time with him. The man was getting better at ‘people-ing’, slowly she was teaching him the difference between being a bearable awkward creep and being a full-on stalker creep. He still stalked her a little, seemingly by accident as he always claimed he just wanted to see her, Joker would say strange things and take her on the oddest little adventures; calling them dates. “…Hey,” Y/N started and his chest vibrated under her hand as he hummed in acknowledgement, then a coil of smoke tickled her nose a little causing her to blow it back at him. “Tell me something interesting, you live in The Nether, right? Why would you choose to stay there when you could be out here?”

He fidgeted his position a little. He didn’t want to give her too much information about his past, he was trying to keep it away from her - trying to keep her safe - without frightening her. She had been so kind to him though… even if he made her nervous for the most part but each time they were together he learned something new and she became braver with him. The first time they had had sex was an experience, she seemed to think he would be innocent and have no idea what he was doing… she was very pleasantly surprised by him.

“I’ll tell you a story instead,” he murmured, shifting so he was sat up a little more against the headboard, Y/N still resting against him, “Once upon a time, there was a little monster, his parents abandoned him one day and bigger monsters snatched him away into the dark.” “You’re being weird again…” Y/N murmured and nestled further into him. “ - They offered to feed yer little monster and clothe him but he had to earn his place amongst the other monsters.” As Joker spoke he had the smoke from his cigarette form the image of a small monster surround by others, they had hollow eyes and horns, all of them towered over the smallest, “He trained and trained and trained until he could barely move; he became very good at fighting the others but the leader of the monsters didn’t like that. The leader used to beat the little monster in front of everyone… sometimes even when no one was looking…”

“Joker…” The woman frowned as she listened to his story, “You’re not a -”

He pressed his finger to her lips and continued, “The little monster continued to grow, he realised that, including himself, there were fifty-two monsters. Never more and never less, though there always seemed to be a replacement in case one disappeared. They were supposed to work together and think as one so that the person who controlled them, someone who lived in the sunshine and told them they must never ever come out of the dark place they lived, could use them. They were ordered to do bad things but it was to keep the sunny world safe.” The smoke continued to play out pictures of his words, “The little monster expressed a desire to understand the world above and was always curious about the truth behind why he was really there - why the world seemed to suck so much.” “His curiosity got him in trouble, he wanted to be different and think for himself -” Y/N’s arm waved through the smoke before returning her palm to his chest, “I bet that made the leader monster mad… I bet he tried to correct the little monster and remind him he wasn’t special.” Joker tensed at her words; it must have been an accident, pure coincidence for her to use those specific words. She had always been good at reading things - she was just reading his story. Clearing his throat, Joker continued, “One day, a strange young man from the world of light came down, he chose the little monster to work with, the man was actually a young lion but that’s a different story. The lion was kind and taught the little monster lots of things about the world outside of the dark land he lived in. They often worked together to fight dangerous, fiery creatures to protect the sun people. And then something frightening happened…” Y/N sat up, pulling the blanket over her bare body as she faced him fully, listening intently, “They saw something they weren’t supposed to and both the lion and the monster lost an eye as punishment.”

Y/N didn’t want to hear any more and stopped him, “This story is sad, your name is Joker, you’re supposed to be funny. Why are you telling me a sad story…” she leaned in and kissed along his jaw, then his cheek and then over his eyepatch, “Does it have a happy ending?”

Joker chuckled at her attention and pulled her onto his lap, nuzzling his nose to hers and then going on, “When the little monster turned sixteen, he found a way to escape whilst all the others were out on a mission. He didn’t know where to go, what to eat and wasn’t even sure how to talk to the people in the world of light… he did find out that these people looked like him and that maybe he wasn’t a monster after all. A family found him starving on the streets and they fed him, they treated him very kindly and he wanted to repay them. He went out to buy them a gift - but when he returned, he found out that the other monsters had found out where he lived and they killed the kind family.” “So he ran away and hid in the dark Nether?” Y/N almost wanted to cry for him, instead, she hugged him close as something seemed to twist in her chest. He was treating it like some whimsical fairytale when it was really a nightmare. “Why didn’t he stay in the dark? Out of the way and safe?”

“Well, he met a weirdo who was just as curious about the truth as him. They both wanted to know why the world sucked so much and why bad things happened to good people. He even found a Little Lady trapped in a box-”

She pushed his shoulder, “Shut up.”

Joker nuzzled into her again, “There’s always a beginning, a middle and an end to any good story. This one’s in the middle but maybe it’s heading toward a happy ending?”

“Maybe…” She smiled, “But maybe you should also let me get up to wash off this monster spunk?”

The man’s hand slid down her stomach and between her legs, his fingers running through her folds and messing with the cum he could feel leaking out of her, it always made her complain loudly when he did this. Joker put his cigarette out and pushed her onto the mattress, settling himself between her thighs and licking a wet stripe from her entrance to her clit, his long tongue cleaning up any evidence of their recent coupling. “That’s so gross!”

Y/N shivered as shock waves tore through every nerve in her body as he worked his tongue inside her. She always struggled to breathe when he did this to her, his hands gripped her thighs to keep her right where she was whilst he buried his mouth into her, moaning so loudly she thought the whole hotel would hear, his tongue was lapping her up, running along every little nook and cranny, eating her up without an ounce of shame.

Her back arched off the bed as it had earlier when he moved his head side to side and made her wail. When the tip of his tongue brushed her clit again she twisted her fingers into his long hair and kept him from moving. Joker felt the little bump with his tongue, circling it just the way he knew her body loved and very gently he scraped his teeth over it. Her hips bucked so violently he was nearly thrown off.

Licking his lips he grinned up at her, “I should eat you up, like a proper monster would…”

“Y-you’re not a monster,” she gasped out and then Y/N managed to look at him, biting her lip when she saw him licking his, his thumb capturing her wetness on his chin and sucking it off like it was candy. “Please fill me up again, I need you.”

“My sweet, Little Lady,” the way his lips split into an impish grin made her heart both soar and sink, “But I’m not finished here.” His index finger traced along the delicate skin of her sex, circling and stroking the source of delicious nectar he was so eagerly lapping up; applying pressure and watching gleefully as his finger sank into her to his third knuckle. He could feel her quivering around the digit and it was so hot and wet with their combined juices that he could feel his balls tighten in anticipation, Y/N murmured something so incoherent he had to sit up to hear her, eager to keep teasing his favourite person.

Y/N grabbed a chunk of his hair and pulled, “Stop teasing me or I’ll turn you to ash!”

Joker laughed at her threats, “I’d like to see you try, Y/N.” He positioned himself against her entrance and pushed slowly inside, he was torn between watching his cock stretch Y/N open or watching her pretty expression as he bottomed out. This wasn’t all about his pleasure – it never really was – he took great satisfaction in making his partners scream in rapture, especially Y/N.

If not for the almost painful clench of Y/N’s inner walls he would have been content to linger without a thought. His purple eye pulled away from their joined bodies and he paid attention to the woman, Y/N’s head was thrown back, her lips parted and her eyes shut. Joker loved her reactions to him…

Lifting her leg up onto his shoulder, he turned his head and kissed her thigh almost reverently, canting his hips forward, sliding in and out at a leisurely pace, “I’m so happy you wanted to ‘people’ with me.” He pulled out a little and thrust back in jerkily, he bit his lip when Y/N cried out, “You make it so easy…” his fingers tightened and he watched the woman’s whole body shudder, heard her gasp. “Wish you could see the way your greedy little hole grips my cock as I pull out and,” Joker pulled a little further out this time, “How eagerly you swallow me up again.” His thrust was accentuated with a harsh cry being ripped from Y/N’s throat, “Like we belong together.” He lifted her leg a little higher over his shoulder and revelled in the loud, desperate, near scream that came from the other.

It wasn’t long before they were moving together, chests heaving, both struggling to get enough air; and as Y/N felt him massaging her wet walls, deep and delicious, she begged him to give her more. Their rutting became frenzied, both being fuelled by need and want and the craving for that moment where the world stopped spinning and everything shattered around them, Y/N’s body clamped hard around Joker, moaning his name as he continued to fuck through the tight spasming of her muscles.

Thrusting into her, almost desperate to catch up with her, he kept going and encouraged her to meet his uneven thrusts despite her body becoming too sensitive, “W-with me, Joker, please -!” Joker’s hips stuttered, and he buried himself deep, groaning as he came.

ao3 - loulou1810

you hesitated, knowing there was no other way around this. he could just look you up on the holocomputer. your name would be top of the list. and he’ll, you were in a max prison security unit, so using petty crime wouldn’t cut it either.

you’d have to tell him, be honest. that’s the honourable thing to do, right?

tw - contains violence, suggestive themes and flashbacks of sexual assault/rape

word count: 5,040

____

His chair slowly turned to face you. The child was sat comfortably in his lap playing with a small silver ball, completely entranced by its chrome.

“Is that it?” He scoffed back with a slight hiccup of a laugh. “Me too, why’d they lock you up there? Bit overkill?”

“Yeah…” You drifted, wondering whether you should tell the truth. “I was captured about 2 years ago…” You start, gauging his reaction to see whether he actually wanted to know. He sat up and fixed his gaze to you, signalling that he was listening and for you to continue. You dropped your head, eyes now transfixed on the loose piece of thread you were wrapping around your fingers,

“Well, I was captured. I was originally what you could call a hit-man for the Republic. I’d worked for them consistently for around 8 years. They used me to hunt down and dispose of Ex-Empire politicians and War Lords, but one mission went south and I was drugged. I was then sold to a high-class underground fighting ring, they’d implanted some sort of control chip which meant they could stop me from lashing out or protesting. They could make me do whatever they wanted…” you paused.

This part of the memory was particularly painful. “They didn’t just use me for fighting,” There were so many hidden meanings and stories hidden there, stories you’ve hidden away and not even bared to think about yourself. They’re too painful, just thinking about it felt like daggers were being slowly pushed into your skull, “One customer had let their name loose during…” Your breath hitched, tears now pricking your eyes as the trauma replayed vividly in-front of your eyes, again and again. You close your eyes so that Mando can’t see how much this has affected you. “I committed the name to memory. During one fight I heard that name again. I saw them in the crowd and something in me just snapped, I couldn’t take the pressure anymore. As soon as I’d dealt with my opponent I sent a knife straight through his skull.” The memory was clear as day now and just as callous.

The extravagant curtains draped the room. Rows of black leather chairs lined the arena, circling around the central ring. The lights were dim, a subtle red stained the multicultural onlookers in a bloodied mood lighting. This was a highly prestigious place, only the highest-ranking officials and galactic influencers could witness this fight… this was obvious from the lavish guest attire. Some coated greedily in gold, others jewels and crystals. Normally you’d be dismayed by the lavish beauty of it all, but not today. You were fighting for your life against one of your more difficult opponents. They were at least 3 times your size, chiselled from pure warrior muscle, wielding a heavy battle-axe which was decorated with the bones of their previous wins. You’d given them a run for your money the whole fight, slowly chipping away at their ego with your double-edged Phrik knives. These were the only weapons you needed. Despite this, you weren’t yourself in this moment. Your targets unbeknownst to you were sat peacefully in the viewing box. Your thoughts were painful, the weight of the constant torture and manipulation had worn you thin, you were on your last tether. Despite the chip stopping you from resisting, your soul was ripping that connection from you with every punch, kick and slice. ‘This is your purpose, do it’ swirled your mind in a violent tempest. The words tortured you, controlling every cell in your body.

And then you heard it, their name. You glanced towards its direction. They were right there, in front of you, taunting you with their presence. ‘Complete the mission. Do what you have trained to do. Feed that temptation ’. You’d had enough. As if timed moved slower now, you slid under the belly of your opponent, grabbing their ankle you kicked yourself up, swinging onto their back. You planted a knife into the nape of their neck, twisting it to make sure. As they fell forwards you used the momentum to jump, launching your other knife over the barrier and into the viewing box.  It left your fingers before you could control it, before you could stop yourself. The next few seconds felt like a lifetime that day. The confused agony not leaving their face until you’d dropped to of view. You’d watched their face as they realised what had happened. The synthetic mind that had been forced into you left the moment the knife did, and the weight of that kill latched onto your soul.

“The synthetic consciousness left with the knife. What I didn’t know is that they were a high ranking Republican political official, and you can piece the puzzle from there. That was that. It was over for me”

You could feel his rage. This had angered him more than you.  You didn’t dare say a thing. You fiddled harder with the fabric in your fingers now, the anxiety was suffocating you and you didn’t know what to do.  You knew that what the officer did to you was wrong, illegal. But the way you’d been treated afterwards was what stung. You were the dirty criminal, they were a war hero. It didn’t take long for them to convince you that you were crazy, that you were a psychopath.

This guilt would carry you to the grave, maybe even push you in.

“If it wasn’t your choi-… if it was synthetic, why’d they lock you up? You were kidnapped and manipulated.” The question fair, and exactly the same question that had eaten away at you ever since they sentenced you. You were taken, held hostage, abused and tortured. Your body became a toy, something for them to release their anger and lustful cravings on. The pain they slowly incited within you only made things easier for them, more enjoyable, they fed off your hate. You tried to cut your emotions, but what they did to you was unforgivable, sadistic. They used your emotions against you, like Lori said would happen. By the time their use for you came around you were an empty shell, stripped bare. They implanted you, and with the flip of a switch, you were their puppet.

“My kidnappers implanted a chip into my brain. They could control me when they wanted, on and off like a droid. It was an old hijacked Clone Wars tech. They only had one use for me, making money. Once I’d done their bidding for them, they’d turn it off. After the incident though, they destroyed the switch along with the evidence. I was classed as insane. The Republic arrested me and took me in. That's how I ended up in the transporter. I was Disposable”

The last word rang your ears, it was driven into you from the start. No one had any attachments to you, no one. You were nothing. A credit without currency. An object.

The sigh that left your body felt like it took the last remaining pieces of your soul. Your tears relenting now, a nervous response to the rehashed trauma. You’d thought about it until your mind was raw. No matter how hard you reasoned with your conscience, you couldn’t shake the guilt. It was your fault, you knew it. You wished that you hadn’t thrown that knife, that you’d had more self-control and restraint. Deep down though, there was no other reason, you killed them, no one else. You, you’re the sick psycho.

“So they can’t control you anymore?” It was low, quiet. You knew he was trying to understand how it all worked, it was confusing even to you, and you weren’t the best at explaining things either.

“I don’t think so, they said they’d destroyed the controller,” You told yourself that they couldn’t control you like they did then, not anymore. But you couldn’t deny the power they still held over you. The way they’d manipulated, engraved their domination into you meant that you’d do anything they’d say out of fear. They were the only people you feared. You couldn’t face that pain again, and you knew resisting would only lead to torture. Out here in this ship, flying through hyperspace… they had no grip here, you were away from them, free.

He seemed uneasy, and you thought it was because he suspected that you could just turn on him at the flick of a switch. You were sure that they’d destroyed it. They’d not used it since…

“Would you like a job?” Out of everything you thought that he was going to say, you really could not have ever thought he’d be asking to employ you. You darted your eyes up, the confusion on your face was almost painful. Completely speechless. He elaborated, “I need someone to look after the Kid” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. You’d just told this guy that you were a top-ranking assassin and now he wants to employ you as his babysitter?

“Are you having a laugh?” Is all you could say, chuckling as the words left your mouth. You’d never dealt with kids. You had no idea what you were doing. Mando seemed to be doing fine, why did he need you?

“Why, what makes you think that?” He sounds confused now. He shifts his head back a bit, his back straightening. He really did not know why this was all so confusing…

“You want me…me?” you point to your chest, emphasising your concern “of all people, you want me to look after the Child? Did you listen to a word I just said?”

“Yeah. You’re overqualified. Exactly what I’m looking for.” Right, this is odd. You pinch yourself, are you really awake. Have you somehow died or is this some messed up dream?

“I don’t understand?” You curt back, arms now folded in an aggressive manner. You weren’t up for being played around.

“I need someone who can protect the Child, you said you were trained and that’s obvious, I saw the way you moved from me in the cell, how you came away unscathed from Xian” He was right. You started to see what he was getting at, and despite agreeing that you could quite comfortably be the Childs personal bodyguard, you couldn’t deny the fact you had no idea how to look after a Child in the first place.

“I have no idea how to look after a Child…”

“Neither do I, we can figure it out together” He looked down to check on the kid. He was in a whole other galaxy, completely amiss to the tense situation happening just in front of him, the chrome ball his only concern. Mando’s gaze held for a moment, you assumed to weigh up all the possibilities of what he was offering. He turned back to you.

“You can call me Mando” And with that, he left the cockpit to put his weapons away in the main hull. You glanced at the child’s beaming toothy grin as he was carried away. You were frozen. That was it. You’d just bagged yourself a job.

___

He watched you, eyes bearing into your back as you assessed what was now going to be your new home…if you could even call it that. He handed you a small bag of clothes, some black long sleeve t-shirt’s that were way too big for you, some trousers and toiletries. The gesture was appreciated. You placed it down next to the metal slab of a pull-out bed… Damn, it is what is. You scold yourself, you’ve never had luxury, why do you expect it now? Maybe the promise of freedom was sweeter than it actually was. He nods for you to follow him out of the room.

He shows you the fresher, which is small but practical. Next, the carbonite freezer, explaining briefly that this is where his bounties go. Then, he pointed to his cabin, making it explicitly clear not to enter or open it unless he says so, even in emergencies. You thought it was odd but then it clicked as to why, and so you let the question die before it surfaced.

You’ve heard the stories of Mandalorian’s, how they’re the fiercest warriors in the galaxy. You’d read books about the battles, the power that ran through their blood. Through your job, you’d come across a few who posed as Mandalorian's but were never real. They wore the armour for protection and style, never out of honour. But with the way this guy acted, spoke and had some sort of attachment issues to his armour… you sussed he was the real deal. Xian even said the doesn’t take it off during…stop.

_____

A few days had passed now and Mando was getting more and more agitated. You’d stopped off at a small spaceport on a remote planet to gather more supplies and fuel.  

You walked together through the market. He’d given you a small bag of credits so that you could get some spare clothes, toiletries and anything else you’d need for your stay on the Razor Crest. It wasn’t much but was enough to tide you over. You couldn’t complain, you had no money so it was better than nothing. You made sure to say thanks as you walked out the ship, following just behind him.

The market was a bit overwhelming at first, but once you’d realised that no one was out to get you you settled down. Mando walked in front, the Kid sat up in his pod, watching the people go about their lives. You noticed that people were making extra effort to stay out of his way, turning to whisper to others as you passed. He stuck out like a sore thumb wearing all that armour, but he didn’t seem to care. It certainly made traversing the busy streets a lot easier. You also found that you got things for a lot cheaper too, he’d stand just over your shoulder each time you went to a stall. The owner would give you the biggest smile whilst simultaneously trying not to anger the armoured chrome bucket behind you.

You found one stall that sold a bazaar range of things, from cutlery to footwear. But what caught your eye was the small Orback toy sat over in the far corner. It was perfect for the kid, it’d keep him distracted and it meant that Mando might get the silver chrome ball back. You asked for the price, not bothering to haggle the shopkeeper. Once you’d paid for it he handed it over and you placed it straight into the Childs hands. He looked it over for a second, confused at what you were giving him. He soon realised and the noise he made melted your heart, he was ecstatic. Waving it around in the air you grabbed the silver ball and handed it to Mando. He nodded at you, then glanced at the now screaming child who was what looked like laying down the law to his new friend.

After a while, the distance between you and Mando got closer and closer until there came a point where your arms were practically nudging one-another with each stride. You didn’t mind the contact, it was nice actually. Even in the busy streets, you felt like the only one there, his presence looming and protective. As the streets got busier you started to get antsy, you’re now scanning for possible threats. You didn’t want to slip up on your first day on the job, first impressions count. Mando could sense your tension and tried to soothe you by resting a hand onto the small of your back as you were walking. It brought your attention away from the dark alleyway and the rooftops and right into his touch. It paid off and you were instantly calmer. You said thanks through a small smile, which still hadn’t left your face whilst you were packing your stuff away back on the ship.

“We have to go somewhere, to pick up someone. I know you’re skilled in fighting, more than many I’ve seen” The compliment lands short as he continues, “The Child has a bounty and he isn’t safe until we take out the root cause. I'm going to need your help with this, is that ok?”

“Yes… for the Child, anything” He stared at you for a second. You guessed it was so he could read your face, ensure that you were ok with what he was asking of you. If it meant that the Child would be safe, then you’d do it. You know it was now your job, but over the few days you’ve been part of his crew, the Child has grown on you, incredibly. He’s already taught you so much, things you never thought you’d learn, and you’re grateful to the Child for that. Even though he can’t talk, he still finds ways to communicate warmth and hope. You don’t like to admit it but he is growing on you…a lot. He nodded and then left for the cockpit, firing up the engines and directing the ship out of the port. You turned away, walking back to your room.

__________

You wake screaming, the torture of your nightmare gripping your neck vindictively, suffocating you, dragging you into the depths of your mind that you never want to re-visit. You’re screaming but its broken, bloodied, hurt. You’re sat upright now, gripping your neck as you find release, the door to your cabin swinging open. He rushes in, quickly scanning the room for the cause, only to set his eyes on you and realise the root of the problem. He slows, just a small space between the both of you now, his helm still checking to ensure there’s no physical harm causing your pain.

You struggle to catch your breath, still clutching at your throat. The dried tears coating your cheeks, your eyes glint off of the ships dimmed lights. The extend of your struggle was shown in the reflection of his Beskar suit, the physical strain pertinent around your neck, the grip you’d been holding was enough to kill.

You were still struggling to breathe but were completely conscious now. Mando reached out a hand to your shoulder, trying to soothe you, “Breathe” He looks again to triple check the child isn’t doing any crazy magic as he had woken in a fit of tears too.

You quickly turn to look at him, your breathing still hoarse. The physical contact cutting through your mind and bringing you to now. Your eyes search for his. The black visor stared back. It’s probably good that you can’t see his face, as its currently slightly torn at the physical wound you’d inflicted to yourself in your sleep. His eyes scan the rest of your body, gazing at your arms which are now bare, the sleeves of the black-top he had given you were now rolled up. They’re riddled with scars of different shapes and sizes, but obvious. He glanced to your neck again, the edges of some pointed out from under the neck of the tee, some raised, some etched, some burned.

“Sorry for startling you…I…” The embarrassment starting to set in now you’ve absorbed the situation.

“The Child woke in tears too, and then I heard you screaming. Cara’s looking after him now”.

You furrow your brows at the new information. The Child too? Was he connected to your dream somehow? Or did the feeling transfer… you wouldn’t know, just acknowledging the connection and leaving it at that.

“Yeah… I was confused too…” he’d noticed the coincidence too, “We’ve got a busy day ahead of us. You should start getting ready soon.”

All this information was starting to rack your brain, the sleepy haze in your mind making it difficult to focus. Then you remembered.

The last week had been a blur. You’d picked up some reinforcements for the mission. First, an ex-shock trooper who went by the name Cara, the tattoo was one of the first things you noticed. She wore it proudly. Cara seemed nice enough even though Mando had told her your backstory, she understood. Her eyes had seen the horror of manipulation too. She knew pain, death. You doubt she’d excuse what you did, but it seemed as though she’d done her fair share and maybe call it even. You’d made small conversation with her and it seemed that you could trust her, you hoped that she’d trust you too.

And then Kuill, now he was sweet. A kind, older Ugnuaght who had served the Empire. He’d done his time. Like you, he was forced to do something he didn’t want to do. The similarity between you two was silently acknowledged, he knew your pain, wanting to fight back but not being able to. He always spoke to you with soft words. You remember his admission with clarity. A day or so after picking him and his Bluurgs up, Mando and Cara were discussing the plan in the cockpit. You were sat in the corner of the hull, entertaining the Child, rolling the chrome ball back and forth along the floor. Kuill strolled up to you, holding your shoulder, bringing your attention from the Child to him.

“I too know the pain of Capitulation. I served my time, and now I work for no one. My soul is free. You are changed now, your punishment dealt. Make good of your life now it is yours. I have spoken.”

You didn’t know what to say but you knew that was exactly what you needed to hear. You’d never had kinder words spoken. It was bittersweet, but a lifeline nonetheless.

“I don’t know exactly how things will turn out so it’s probably best we prepare for anything” he admits, fear hidden in the admission somewhere. “I have asked Kuill to look after the Child along with IG. You’ll come with me and Cara to sort the problem. To finish this.”

Your head turns to the small Ugnaught now standing in the doorway, Cara to his side holding the Child. You nod politely to them, slightly embarrassed at how they were seeing you. The Child coos, his arms outstretched to his Dad. Cara walks into your room to give Mando the child, he coos again, this time more assertive. Cara tries to hand him over to Mando but he’s blubbering louder now, his arms are now outstretched to you. You sit up properly at the realisation. Mando nods to Cara, giving her silent permission to hand the Child to you. They both watch as you and the Child babble, his hand grabbing around your finger.

The connection warms you. He’s telling you through the only way he knows how that he’s ok, and that you should be too. He exudes calmness, soothing your mind to level with his. You smile at him, silently thanking him for his unique comfort. He nods back with a coo, head-turning towards Mando. He looks back at you with a toothy grin, releasing your finger then making grabby gestures to Mando. You smile to yourself as you watch Mando pick up the Child and leave, resting him in his right arm. Mando’s head was tilted towards the Child as if to ask what all the fuss was about. Cara watches them leave then turns to you.

“Hey,” She says calmly, sitting to perch on the side of your bed.

“Hey, I'm sorry if I interrupted you, I didn’t mean to-” She cuts you off.

“Don't apologise, it’s ok, we all have bad dreams sometimes” She sports a small smile, letting you know she understands. You smile back. It’s nice to have another girl on the ship, you feel like you can open up to Cara a bit more than you can with Mando. You maintain the small smile, showing your sincerity. “The kid seems to really like you” She chuckles, showing a couple of teeth. She’s right, you both got along really well. You’d not known the Child for long but you were already smitten, the toothy grin got you every time.

“Thank you, Cara.” You don’t know what else to say. The simple reply is soft, thanking. You really did appreciate her care.

��Don’t thank me, you’re the one that can make that little womp-rat smile. I’ve tried and he just… anyway. We’re not far out now. You should get ready”

You both exchange a small smile, it's sweet. You know you can trust Cara now.

___

The doors to the weapons locker opened and you couldn’t stop your jaw from dropping in awe. There was enough to form a small army! Does this guy have a thing for weapons or what? He reaches out and grabs a blaster. It’s exquisitely crafted, the mahogany wood polished to within an inch of its life. Once securing it in his belt, he reaches out again, grabbing two leather sheaths. Turning, he hands them to you. You put them on, one of them sits on your right thigh, the other sits just under your binder and rests under your shirt. You look up at him, his visor pinning you in place.

“I took you as a knives person” He deadpans, handing you two combat knives. Yeah, true, he’d read you like a book. You loved close combat, the thrill of it was always your favourite. You hated your past but you did have to admit, you enjoyed the hunt, it felt like fighting was what you were made to do. You drop your gaze to the knives. They’re pleasing to the eye. You’d not seen anything like it, the metal had waves to it, like an ocean. You traced a finger up one end of the blade, the sharpness of them tantalising, “Beskar” he chimes. Goosebumps riddled you like a rash, you couldn’t hide the grin that found your face. You’d not had a nice pair of knives since you were taken, hostage. Looking back up to him you thank him, placing one in the thigh holster and the other in the holster on your chest. You felt more confident now, adrenaline starting to prickle your senses; your body was starting to prepare itself for what was to come.

He reaches in again, grabbing a small belt. It was rough and tatty, this must be an older belt he’d once used, the one he wore now was a lot sturdier and more practical. Turning back to you he hands it over. You hear a slight scraping sound, like metal on metal. Inspecting one of the two pouches attached to it you found it was full of little throwing knives. They weren’t the same material as the daggers he’d just given you, but still sharp nonetheless. The grin feverish once you’d placed the belt around your waist, it hung lower than you’d like but it was still practical. You tested the buckle to see if it’d release quickly, and to your amusement, it did. You look back up at Mando, grin now toothy like the kids. “Thanks, hopefully, I won’t have to use them”

“Don’t lie, we all know you want to,” he said jokingly. So he finds it funny now? His comment makes you glance down. He was right, you were looking forward to it. Guilt floods your cheeks and you blush, now coming to terms with how you’d been acting. You didn’t want them to think you wanted to fight. This mission needed to go as smoothly as possible, for the Kids sake. Now they just think you’re in it for the blood, great.

“I didn’t mean it like that…I…” He stutters on his words, now realising the meaning behind what he said.

“It’s ok, I get it” you mumble back, turning away to get your boots from your room. You don’t notice him turning his head back around, watching as you walk back into your cabin.

___

Trust Cara to be carrying the biggest blaster from the locker. She’s all muscle that girl, and she knew it too. A blaster that size would look stupid if you tried to use it, you’re not even sure you could even lift it. Cara made it look like it was second nature, each to their own.

“Let me do the talking,” says Mando. Him? Do the talking? Is he having a laugh? The guy can barely hold a conversation, and now he thinks he’s some negotiating mastermind. You let it slide though, he is a Mandalorian at the end of the day, the armour does most of the talking for him. “Kuill, are the Bluurgs ready?”

“Yes. Someone will have to walk, I only have three” he says back to Mando, back turned as he’s fixing the final bits of equipment to the Bluurgs.

“I’ll walk,” you say, you’re the odd one out at the end of the day. You want to make a good impression, and you thought that a decent walk wouldn’t do you harm. You’ve not had a chance to properly stretch your legs in too long.

“You sure? It’s a fair way?” Cara asks back, she’s genuine.

“Yeah, I need to stretch my legs, let me lend a favour” you smile back. You really did want them to trust you, and you thought this is the least you can do to show your appreciation for their kindness over the last few days.

“If you get tired then you tell me,” Mando commands. There's no room for if’s or but’s, he means it.

You pull a sneaky grin, the temptation to say it was just too much, you can give in this once, right? You pick your next words very carefully but use the most seductive tone you could. It's just a bit of fun…

“Yes, Sir”

Cara chokes out a shocked laugh. You turn to her, she’s pulling her eyebrows up and down in a suggestive manner. I'm glad that landed well… You laugh back as you both follow Kuill out of the ship to the Bluurgs, her elbow nudging your arm in a jokey way. You both continue giggling, not noticing the now slightly flustered Mandalorian.

Notes:

Hope u guys enjoy this chapter! the next couple chapters are quite action-driven as they follow the original arc, but I'm a few chapters ahead and let me tell you... is it getting hot in here?;)

[Previous Course]

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

Little Chef

[Course 2]

As she combined the butter-flour mixture in the pan, Amber couldn’t help but think of Noah again. She never got an answer about what he was, and there were still so many questions that she had for him even before she accidentally scared him again.

‘Well, it’s not like I didn’t deserve it up to some point,’ she thought as she kept an eye on the roux forming in the pan. ‘I’m not going to be surprised if I don’t see him ever again after that little incident.’

She tried to keep her hopes up as best as she could as she made her cream stew. She’d already gotten everything else cooking in a pot on one of the back burners, so all she had left to do was make the béchamel sauce to combine it with. Having three or so pots on the stove seemed a bit hectic at first glance, but it wasn’t an unusual occurrence to her due to working in a restaurant. Amber slowly poured the heated milk into the roux once it was ready, making sure that it was fully combined before she added any more. She wasn’t going to make that mistake again.

“And…there,” she said to herself as she finished up. “Just need to add it to the stew.”

Amber grabbed a ladle from nearby, scooping some of the stew broth into the béchamel sauce before incorporating the sauce mixture back into the stew. She let it simmer a little bit longer before turning off the heat and letting it cool down a bit. Grabbing two small containers, she set them side-by-side and portioned out the stew, sealing the containers and putting them in her lunch bag afterwards.

‘I hope he likes it,” she thought.

She paused for a bit as she looked at her lunch bag. Amber fiddled with the zipper, thinking back…

“Be grateful that you get to eat on their dime. Otherwise, you wouldn’t get to eat at all!”

“A cheese sandwich again? You really can’t afford to get anything else, can you?”

She opened up her lunch bag again, staring at the two containers of cream stew.

“Eat your food, honey. People worked hard to get you this meal, and I’m sure that some people dream about being in your situation.”

Was it really alright for her to be enjoying a meal like that? If there were others that dreamed about being in her situation, then what made her so special to be there in the first place? Why her?

No, not the best time to contemplate why she’s there at that point in time. She needed to head to work.

Zipping up her lunch bag again, Amber got ready for work and headed out the door, lunch bag in hand.

Work was rather uneventful that day — well, as uneventful as working in a bustling restaurant kitchen could get — and Amber continued to do the finishing touches on her cleaning. She glanced over at the pantry’s lock, curious about how it’d been acting up prior to then. Walking up to it, she closely examined the lock.

Huh. Something’s inside of it.

She tried to shake whatever was inside out of the lock, but before she could do much of anything, she heard a noise coming from behind her.

“Noah?” Amber asked. “Is that you?”

“So you’re the one that made him fear for his life,” an unfamiliar voice chastised her. “Do you know how terrified we all were?”

“We all?” — she let go of the lock and looked around for the source of the voice — “So there are more of you? Whatever you are.”

“Don’t avoid the subject! Even if what Noah did was reckless as all get out, that’s no excuse for terrorizing him!”

“Look, I didn’t mean to scare him like that. Hell, we were both pretty terrified at the time. I thought I’d have to deal with another mouse infestation! I didn’t expect to see a little person-”

“Borrower,” They cut Amber off so quickly that she could barely process what they said.

“I’m sorry, what?”

“We’re not ‘little people’, even if we are small. We’re Borrowers.”

“Oh. Sorry about that.”

They didn’t reply for a bit. “Anyway, what do you want with Noah? You’ve already given him enough trouble.”

Amber rolled her eyes, quickly developing a snarky tone in her voice. “Well, sorry for wanting to make up for scaring the hell out of him. I thought that he’d appreciate something that wasn’t from the scrap pile.”

“We’re fine, thank you very much. We don’t need help from-” — they trailed off, and Amber could hear sounds coming from the direction of the dishwashing area — “Hey, get back here!”

Amber looked over towards the dish racks, seeing something climbing down from it. A spider? No, too big to be a spider, and if it was one, she’d have already gotten the broom and smacked it. She got a little closer, only to see Noah rappelling down from the rack. Unfortunately, she kind of spooked him in the process, as he lost his grip when he saw how close she was to him. Thankfully, Amber was able to catch him before he cracked his skull open like an egg.

“That was close,” she said, gently setting Noah down. “If I wasn’t fast enough… Well, let’s try not to think about that for now.” — she glanced up to where the hook attached to the rope was, which turned out to just be thread and a paper clip — “How long have you and that other guy been up there?”

“Just a few minutes,” Noah told her. “I wanted to see if anyone else was here.” — his voice reduced to a quiet mutter — “You said you wanted to see me again.”

She smiled a bit when she heard that. “I’m glad you kept your promise.” — she grabbed her lunch bag, which she had set aside earlier, and brought out the second container of cream stew — “I didn’t know if you’d like it or not, but I thought that some homemade stew would be better than just cheese and a cracker.”

His eyes seemed to sparkle when he saw the container, but quickly became nervous. “I-Is it alright? For me to have some?”

“Of course—!” — Amber quickly stopped herself, knowing that she was going to spook Noah if she kept being that loud — “I mean, of course you can. The same goes for your friend. I just need to warm it up first.”

“Like I was going to say, we don’t need help from human beans like you,” the other Borrower rudely told her. “We don’t need your charity.”

Amber tried so hard to contain her laughter, but it escaped in short, sporadic chuckles as she covered her mouth with one hand. Noah seemed puzzled, while Amber couldn’t tell what the other Borrower’s expression was like.

“It’s human beings, not human beans,” She corrected them through her giggle fit.

“Whatever!” they snapped back at her. “You’re still a human bean to me! And my mind’s not going to be changed about the charity either!”

“But she made it just for us, Cay,” Noah said, “and I know that you’re tired of eating scraps too.”

“Cay?” Amber asked, puzzled.

There wasn’t a reply from the other Borrower until they heard a rough sigh accompanied by quiet footsteps. They quickly slid down the rope that Noah had used earlier, slowing down just enough at the end to make as little noise as possible on the metal counter. They had a grey cloak that was similar to Noah’s, but it was a bit shorter on their body and had a hood sewn on it. The person hiding under the cloak, however, was a whole different story. They towered over Noah, though they were still only big enough to fit in Amber’s palm, and had piercing hazel eyes accompanying well-kept red hair. Even despite their size difference, Amber couldn’t help but feel unnerved when they glared at her.

“You better hope that I’m not going to regret revealing myself like this,” They told her.

“Anyway…um…this is my brother,” Noah introduced him. “His name’s Cain, but we all call him Cay.” — he turned to his brother — “And this is Amber. I forgot what the full thing was, but that’s what she asked me to call her.”

“It’s Ambrosia,” Amber noted. “So, is it just you two? Sibling-wise. I’m just curious.”

He looked over to his brother. “Well, there’s Able too, but he’s-”

“Sprained ankle,” Cain cut him off.

Amber winced. “Yikes. I hope he gets better.”

Cain let out a huff as he looked off to the side. In any case, Amber quickly went to reheat the stew that she had brought, getting the smallest spoons that she could for the two Borrowers, which happened to be the quarter teaspoons. She set the spoons next to them and presented the stew, with it still steaming a bit from reheating it.

“Careful,” she warned them beforehand, “it’s pretty hot.”

Both Cain and Noah were hesitant at first, but they eventually took a slight bit of the stew and tasted it. While Noah’s delighted reaction was plastered all over his face, Cain looked extremely neutral.

“So…?” Amber slowly asked them. “You like it?”

“It’s amazing!” Noah beamed as he quickly took another spoonful and ate it. “I’ve never tasted anything like this before! The chunks are a little big, though.”

“I’ll try to break it up a bit more next time, but even I’ve got limits for how small I can cut things.” — she looked over at Cain, who still looked neutral — “Not even a reaction? Huh.”

Cain quickly looked her in the eyes. “If you’re trying to make me jealous of your cooking, then you’ve definitely succeeded,” he remarked.

Noah chuckled at his brother’s remark, and the two of them kept eating. Granted, there was enough stew there to feed the two of them for a few days straight, but that was probably because Amber didn’t have any smaller Tupperware to use. Either way, she was glad that they were eating something that she knew wasn’t from the scrap heap that normal people called the trash.

“You know,” she noted, “I could always teach you how to cook. Probably not gigantic meals like this,” — she paused for a second — “well, gigantic compared to you…but still something to eat.”

“Hold on, let me get this straight,” Cain said, seeming rather suspicious of her. “You, a human bean or whatever you’re called, want to teach Borrowers like us how to cook?” — Amber nodded her head, though this seemed to make him more suspicious — “You know that we’re not supposed to interact with each other, right?”

“Well, we’re doing it right now, you rule breaker. Doesn’t make much of a difference.” — Cain stopped in his tracks, knowing that she had a point — “Anyway, I’ve got to get going, and you two should too. You can pop by tomorrow if you want.”

“I’d rather not, with Noah already being in trouble and all.” — he glanced at his brother — “It’d be best if we lay low.”

Amber knew that Cain had a point, so she let them finish up before they ran off into hiding again. Taking the teaspoons and Tupperware, she made sure to clean them before returning them to their proper places, taking the Tupperware back with her as she thought of some new recipes.

Cabur

Chapter Eighteen

Pairing: Din Djarin x OFC (Aili Verdella) Warnings: choking (and not the sexy kind), miscommunication (so much of it), cursing, Kuiil attempting help Mando and Aili Word Count: 4.4k Also on AO3

Masterlist//Main Masterlist

Summary: The whole gang is on the way to Nevarro, Mando is being weird after a quick talk with Kuiil and Aili is suspicious. Cara and Mando have an arm-wrestle and secrets are revealed about the child which leads to several people putting their foot in their mouth at different times.

They were loading up the blurrg when Kuiil spoke up. “That one is good for you,” he said without preamble as usual. That didn’t make his words any less jarring for Mando to hear as he barely stopped himself from accidentally pulling too hard on the blurrg’s reins. The last thing they needed was for him to piss off the blurrg again. 

“What?” was the only thing he settled on saying. 

“The smaller angry one, Aili. You two are good for each other, sooth each other’s anger from the past.” Kuiil wasn’t stupid, he had seen too many things during his servitude to the Empire. He didn’t need to know any details to see the similarities and he was sure the Shock Trooper had seen it too. 

“We’re not together,” Mando said stiffly. 

“That is not what I see when you two are around each other.” 

“She doesn’t-”

“I have spoken.” Kuiil said before Mando could even finish his sentence. 

Mando didn’t even know what else to say or do after that so he just kept leading the blurrg onto the ship. He was just glad that neither Aili or Cara were on the ship yet. Cara because she would just start laughing at the two of them again and Aili because he had no idea how she would react. As much as he wanted to know, a bigger part of him, the smarter part, didn’t want to know. Didn’t want to hear her own rejection out loud. 

They got everything packed onto the ship quickly after that, Mando trying to avoid Aili just a little bit. He almost succeeded but right after Cara and Kuiil went on board, Aili stopped him from heading up the gangway with a hand on his arm. “Is everything okay? Because if this is about the plan, we don’t have to--”

“We don’t have a choice,” Mando said shortly, slightly shrugging out of her grasp and walking onto the ship. Aili stared at him as she followed behind him with Little Green’s cradle floating between them. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion but she quickly schooled her face back into it’s usual passive expression once Cara was in sight. No need to have Cara start asking questions or making teasing remarks any time soon. 

She watched Mando from the corner of her eye as she made sure that Little Green’s cradle wasn’t going to be in the way of anyone. He went up to the cockpit and they were soon taking off from Arvala-7 without another word. Weird but whatever, Aili shrugged to herself and went over to where they kept their rations to get the kid something to eat to keep him from starting any trouble. 

Whatever Mando’s problem was would work itself out eventually or she could always kick his ass, whichever happened first. She was willing to bet on the latter option though. There was the small lurch that sent them into hyperspace and a minute later, Mando was sliding back down the ladder just as Aili was turning to walk back over to Little Green. 

Aili let out a quiet sound of surprise when she barely stopped herself from getting a face full of beskar. “I am getting you a bell once this is all over.”

“None of that, please, there are children present,” Cara called from where she was sitting. She had a smirk on her face as she watched the two of them almost crash into each other. She honestly couldn’t believe the two of them were still acting so oblivious to each other’s feelings, but she was starting to get the impression that it was mainly coming from one more than the other. 

“Who, you? I think it’s too late to give you the talk,” Aili bit back, side stepping around Mando so she could give Little Green his snack. Hopefully after that he’d be ready to go to sleep and then he really couldn’t start any trouble before they got to Nevarro. 

“Just a little late,” Cara said back, a large grin on her face now. Her gaze slid over to where Mando was still standing stiffly. “Hey Mando, let’s settle a bet.”

“What?” That finally snapped him back into reality and Cara pulled out a few credits, placing them on the crate she was sitting in front of. 

“Let’s find out who’s really stronger, me or you.” 

Mando paused to think it over before walking over and placing his own credits on the makeshift table. “I won’t go easy on you.”

“Trash talk doesn’t work on me.” 

Aili watched as Mando and Cara arm-wrestled out of pure boredom and a need to finally prove who was stronger. Further back Kuiil was feeding the blurrg and Little Green was curiously watching Mando and Cara as well from his cradle. He had just finished his snack and Aili was still trying to decide how much longer to let him stay up. She had given him the snack and moved back over to the other side of the ship where things were a little less crowded.  

“I got you, Mando.”

“Care to double the bet?”

Aili rolled her eyes at the two of them, mostly Mando because he had no problem making bets with Cara but he couldn’t have a simple conversation with her before they left Arvala-7. She had no idea what had happened during the time he was loading the blurrgs with Kuiil but if he wanted to act like a child, she’d let him. He had done that to her plenty of times. 

Her eyes went wide in surprise as soon as Cara started to choke on nothing. Like something invisible was choking her. She rushed forward when Cara brought her hands up to her throat in an attempt to do something. She didn't even notice Mando staring at Little Green as she tried to figure out what was wrong with Cara. 

“No, no, hey, stop!” Mando shouted, grabbing Little Green a little too roughly as the child let out a small squeak of surprise. “We’re friends. Cara is my friend!”

Cara took several harsh breaths. “That is not okay!” She angrily exclaimed, pointing at the kid with one finger while she tried to catch her breath. 

“He...has he had powers this whole time?” Aili questioned, eyes still wide in shock. She’d heard rumors of things like this, had seen a couple of girls taken out of the Program with no reason given. But guards always talked and they spoke of weird powers, something the Emperor was always looking out for. Other than that she had never asked for details. She wouldn’t have been given answers anyway no matter what her rank was within the Program. 

“Hmm, very curious,” Kuiil said, coming closer to look at the child in Mando’s grasp.

“Curious? It almost killed me!” Cara exclaimed, not even noticing when the kid let out another quiet sound of distress. 

“He’s a child and didn’t know what you two were doing,” Aili said harshly, moving around Cara to go over to Mando to hold her hands out for him to hand Little Green over to her. He hesitated for a second before doing so. She barely noticed the way he tensed up when their hands brushed against each other, she was too focused on making sure the kid was okay. 

“The story you told me of the mudhorn makes more sense now,” Kuiil said, still looking at the child with surprise in his eyes. 

“Mudhorn?” Aili asked, throwing Mando a look of displeasure when she saw the slight tears in Little Green’s eyes. He had obviously gotten scared by Mando shouting at him and Cara yelling at him. 

“What is it?” Mando asked, ignoring the look Aili was giving him for now. It wasn’t the most pressing matter at the moment to tell her about the mudhorn incident. 

“He,” Aili muttered under her breath, too low for anyone to really hear it. They had both given him enough baths and cleaned his small robe enough times that Mando should know that Little Green was a boy by now. Of course he was probably still trying to act like he wasn’t as attached to the kid as she was. 

Kuiil shook his head slightly, “What it is, I don’t know. But what it does, this I’ve heard rumors of.”

“What, when you worked for the Empire? And what about you Aili, you know about this too?” Cara questioned, her tone a little too accusatory for Aili’s taste. 

Aili threw a look of incredulity towards Cara, angry that the Shock Trooper would accuse her of something with no proof. “Okay let’s not go there just because you’re pissed off.”

“And you mean when I was sold to the Empire, in indentured servitude,” Kuiil added, his own voice taking on slight anger. 

Cara let out a scoff, gesturing towards them both, “Yet somehow, you both walk free.”

“I bought my freedom through the skill of my hands and the labor of three of your human lifetimes. Do not cast doubt upon that of what I am nor whom I shall serve,” Kuiil said, short and to the point but not without quiet anger lacing his every word. 

“I had to blow up a whole base to be able to “walk free”, you do not get to judge me or the things I did before then,” Aili stated, staring at Cara with a withering look in her eyes. So much for being friends if this was all it took to cause distrust. She turned around again, her back to Cara now as she muttered to herself, “I do that plenty to myself every day.”

No one noticed Mando making half an attempt to bring a hand up to Aili's shoulder before he stopped himself. With a subtle shake of his helmet, he brought his hand back down to his side, clenching both hands into fists to stop himself from trying again. 

IG-11 had walked over to them at the sound of raised voices but stood down a little when he saw Aili was comforting the child already. Mando let out a deep sigh knowing that both Cara and Aili were going to be pissed off for hours now. Not exactly two people he wanted angry on his ship, worse that they were angry with each other. 

He turned to Kuiil and made sure to keep his voice even as he spoke, “Tell you what, I could really use your craftwork right now. Any way you can pad this container better so the child can sleep better?” 

He knew that even though Aili had agreed to switch out when they used the cot, she spent most of her nights letting the kid sleep on the cot. He had come down from the cockpit more than once and seen her curled up on the floor in front of the cot with nothing but a blanket and one of her bags as a pillow under her head. So if Kuiil could make the kid’s cradle more comfortable, maybe then she’d actually use the cot for once. He knew it wasn’t the most comfortable place to sleep but it was better than the ship floor. 

“I shall fabricate a better one. Then perhaps this Dropper can see how one can win their freedom with the skill of one’s hands.”

"Thank you. We need to go over the plan again,” Mando directed the last part to Aili and Cara who were still not looking at each other. Cara wasted no time in heading for the ladder, still rubbing at her neck before she went up to the cockpit without another word. 

"You two go ahead,” Aili said shortly, keeping all of her focus on Little Green for the moment, rocking him from side to side without thinking about it. 

"This involves all of us,” Mando replied, barely holding back another sigh. He knew she was upset but that didn’t mean she could get out of making sure the plan was fool proof. 

"Yeah well unless you think Little Green will be able to contribute somehow, someone's gonna have to get him to calm down,” Aili shot back, looking up at Mando and that was when Mando finally noticed the small amount of tears in big brown eyes. He let out another sigh before nodding. 

“Okay, but once he’s asleep, come up to the cockpit.” 

“Is that an order?”

Mando winced behind his helmet knowing that he had chosen the wrong thing to say if the blunt way Aili spoke said anything. He tried to fix it quickly, “A request.”

“Fine.” Some of the tension in Aili’s shoulders faded away but he could tell she was still angry. Probably would be until they reached Nevarro and then all her anger could be redirected towards the Imps that were in the city. Mando just hoped they could all make it to the planet in one piece. He shook his head once more before heading up to the cockpit, hoping that maybe he could talk to Cara before Aili rejoined them, let her know how badly she screwed up without telling her too much of what Aili had told him. 

Aili watched from the corner of her eyes as Mando finally went up the ladder before she closed her eyes and let out a sigh. “Stupid,” she whispered to herself before biting her tongue to distract herself and to push away the dumb tears that had come to her eyes. Mando had been nice enough to not mention them, or just smart enough for once. Either way she was grateful. 

She watched as Kuiil started to work on a new cradle for Little Green, this one round rather than a rectangle. She was perfectly fine with staying in the cargo hold while Cara and Mando were up in the cockpit trying to come up with some semblance of a plan if everything went sideways. Which it probably would like most of the things that Mando was involved in. 

Aili was just trying to get the kid to go to sleep before rejoining them. She knew that was why they had brought Kuiil and IG-11 along but she couldn’t help herself. It had become a habit at this point and she wasn’t even sure if Little Green would let anyone else put him to sleep. 

Kids got weirdly attached like that considering he would rarely let Mando put him down to sleep if Aili was there. It had gotten worse after the job on Tatooine which is something Mando had mentioned once and Aili couldn’t disagree with him for once. Waking up with a concussion and not knowing where Little Green was had sent her back to the base for a moment which was not a place or time she liked to think back on. 

But she was also okay with any time spent avoiding Cara for a little while, the other woman’s comments had hit a little too close to home for her. The accusations had been worse, the implication that she was in any way still working for the Empire. She had thought she had made it obvious what she thought of Imps. 

So to hear the comments come from someone who she had just been joking around with, someone who she had thought was her friend? Had Cara said something to Mando and that was why he was acting so weird now? She let out an annoyed sigh and tried to shake the thoughts away. She didn’t care what either of them thought of her, she knew where she stood and that was all that mattered. 

“You and the Mandalorian are good together,” Kuiil stated when he paused for a break, hoping Aili would see more reason than the Mandalorian did. 

“Excuse me?” Aili was pretty sure she was hearing things but she didn’t stop her rocking motion aside from a slight wobble. 

“I can tell, I saw things during the Empire’s rule. Children, girls not even old enough to walk or talk yet, taken from their parents and never seen again.”

“I--” Aili hadn’t even thought that there could have been girls taken from the workers on gene farms. But it made sense, they were desperate to pay off debts and for not the first time, she wondered about her own parents. She pushed the thought away quickly, it didn’t matter to her anymore, she knew they weren’t workers on some farm. Her file had had that much information at the very least even if it didn’t have the right birth year. 

“It’s not hard to spot the hard edges left by the Empire. Both of you have them for different reasons but they are very much the same,” Kuiil continued, not noticing the way Aili was almost lost in thought. 

“Yes but-”

“You both round out each other’s edges. I have spoken.” Kuill said before turning back to his work before Aili could even say anything. She stared at the Ugnaught in stunned silence before a quiet coo brought her attention down to Little Green. He blinked his own big brown eyes at her like he understood and agreed with Kuiil.

“Not you too, you little womp rat,” Aili whispered to him. Little Green had the nerve to smile at her before reaching up to reach for a loose curl of hair. Aili let out a deep sigh, adjusting her grip on the kid so his head was resting against her chest and he could wrap his little hand around her hair. 

She had no idea why he always had to do that but it was cute regardless of the times he accidentally tugged too hard. To her it was just like when Shaeli and Jaesa were younger and couldn't sleep. If Mando only knew how many times she had slept in the Covert that first year, one or both of the girls piled on top of her so they could sleep soundly to the sound of her heart beat. 

It took another couple of minutes before Little Green fell asleep deeply enough for Aili to put him down in the cot, tucking a blanket around him. A couple minutes too long for her to be alone with her thoughts and the comments Kuiil had made. She knew how Mando felt about her, probably felt about her, she corrected herself. It wasn’t like they had sat down afterwards and discussed their feelings but she was sure she had picked up on it anyway. The helmet could only hide his expressions but not his actions or body language. 

She just didn’t know how she actually felt about him. It wasn’t like she had any kind of previous relationship experience to fall back on, none of her experience had come from a place of emotion of any kind. She knew she loved the girls but that was obviously different, they saw her as their older sister or in Shaeli and Jaesa’s case as their mother. But romantically? She didn’t know what that would feel like even if it was right in front of her. 

With a deep sigh, she glanced at Little Green once more before shutting the hatch and giving Kuiil one last nod, she headed up to the cockpit to help with planning. Anything to keep another child from the Empire’s grasp.

“So we’re heading to Nevarro?” She walked in as soon as Cara asked Mando. 

“Have you ever been?” 

Cara shook her head, “No, we lost a lot of forces there.”

“You’re not missing much,” Aili muttered as she took her usual seat. “Rocks and lava, that’s about it.”

“Hey, I’m sorry about the shit I said down there.” To her credit, Cara actually did seem sorry about what she had said to Aili. It made some of the anger Aili was still holding fade away, but not much. She knew better than most that things said in anger were things you thought while not angry as well. 

“It’s fine,” Aili said with a small shrug before trying to deflect the conversation. “You were saying about during the war?”

“Um, yeah, the city’s dug in pretty deep which I’m sure you both know already. So no cover when you drop in. It stayed in Empire control until the war was over.” Cara explained while continuing to clean the blaster rifle she had chosen from the weapons locker earlier. Aili hadn’t even noticed her taking it up the ladder with her but then again, she had her back to the woman at the moment. 

“The warlord we’re taking out was an Imperial officer.”

“What station?” Cara asked. She didn’t know very much about how the Empire worked but she was willing to bet that between her and Aili they could figure it out. 

“Hard to tell. No insignia anymore. I took out the safehouse when I snatched the kid. More Imps have reinforced since.”

Cara and Aili shared a quick glance before Cara spoke again, “There’s something more going on.”

“I agree, something doesn’t feel right. Imperial officers didn’t do their own dirty work during the war, why would they now? What was this guy’s name again?” Aili hadn’t known officers that were high ranking that would also do their own work. Even the Emperor had other people to do his bidding, it was the whole reason the Program existed. And she had even heard about some group called Inquisitors but they had a whole different hierarchy and she had never met one before. 

“I only knew him as the Client.”

“Hmm, definitely something else going on,” Aili said, brow furrowed in thought now. 

“Maybe. We’ll find out more when we land.” The cockpit doors opened before Mando could continue and IG-11 stepped in, stopping right beside Aili and Cara meaning he was right behind Mando. Aili cringed knowing Mando wouldn’t like that at all. 

“I have prepared second meal. Would you care to be served here or below?” 

Mando slowly turned to look at the droid and Aili could just about see the anger coming off of him before he turned back around. “I’m not hungry.”

IG-11 paused for half a second before backing out of the cockpit. 

“Under no circumstances does that thing leave the ship,” Mando said stiffly once the cockpit doors were closed again.

“You’ve got a real thing for droids, don’t you?” Cara laughed, finally done checking over and cleaning the rifle. 

“I got a real thing for that droid.”

“Mando, you shot at pit droids not too long ago.” Aili raised an eyebrow that Mando couldn’t see with his back to her but she hoped he could hear the tone in her voice. 

“Yeah, I’m not going near that one but the Ugnaught said he rewired this one,” Cara said even as she furrowed her brow at the thought of Mando shooting at a pit droid. Those were the most harmless of droids that she had ever seen.  They literally only had one job and that was to help fix ships. If there was one thing the Razor Crest needed, it was pit droids to fix half the things wrong with it. 

“That droid was designed to kill things, I don’t care how much wiring he replaced. It goes against its nature.”

Aili knew it was stupid but Mando’s choice of words didn’t sit right with her. Not because she cared about the droid in any way. She hadn’t been around the droid long enough to care about it anymore than she cared about the last blaster she bought. But with Cara’s earlier comments still running through her head, Mando’s comment despite not being about her added to her earlier feelings. 

“It shouldn’t be a long job anyway. We take out the head Imp, the rest will run like rats,” Cara grinned wide before getting up to get that meal that IG-11 had made. No point in going into a fight on an empty stomach. 

Mando and Aili sat in silence, nothing but the stars of hyperspace passing by them for a long moment. “You were only talking about the droid, right?” 

“What?” Mando asked, turning around to look at Aili. Behind his helmet, he was giving her a confused look that she couldn’t see. 

“I-nevermind,” she said quickly before pushing herself out of her chair. “I’m going to head down for some food, you sure you don’t want any?”

“Not if the droid made it.”

“Of course, can’t trust food made by a killing machine,” Aili said before walking out of the cockpit before Mando could reply to her. He sat there in silent confusion wondering what he had said now that had made her mad. He went through everything he had said about the droid. The only thing he had said was that it was designed to kill things and no rewiring would change its nature.

“Dank farrik,” he hissed out to himself. Every time he thinks he can’t put his foot in his mouth again, he does. He could understand how she could misinterpret his words especially since he knew how she was raised pretty much since birth. Probably thought that made her no better than a hunter droid sometimes and now she had both Cara and him make comments that made it seem like they thought that of her. 

He checked the solar clock on the console and wondered if he had time to fix his latest screw up before they reached Nevarro. He let out another curse when he saw that they had barely any time before they would drop out of hyperspace, maybe a few solar hours. He was about to get up to go find her when there was a knock at the cockpit door but no one came in. With a confused tilt of his helmet, he went to the door to find a small plate of food sitting on the ground.

There was a small bit of flimsiplast laying on top of it with a note written on it that simply said “Not made by a droid, eat it” in handwriting that Mando didn’t recognize. But only one person on board the Crest would even bother with the note let alone one demanding he eat it. He bent down to pick up the food, now even more confused than before but he would admit to himself that he was hungry and he doubted Aili would lie about the droid not touching this food. With one last look towards the ladder that led to the cargo hold he retreated back into the cockpit and after making sure the door was locked, he ate the food she had left for him. 

The Call (10)

Chapter Title: Friendship

Wordcount: 2.9k

Fic Tag: Click

Ao3 Link: Click

Chapter Summary: The death of Marco Bodt.

Notes: I stopped uploading chapters to tumblr for a while, but I've decided to get caught up! And getting caught up meant starting with. This. Enjoy? Also! if you want to see what happens next, please know that the next eight chapters are all already posted on Ao3.

"Kirstein. It's Ymir; I'm sure the slayers have told you all about me. Probably not good stuff either, so right now, I need you to ignore all of that and listen to me. Reiner Braun and Bertolt Hoover are vampires, Reiner has a gem that lets him walk in the sunlight, and Annie is in league with them. I have too many damn calls to make to go into detail, but Reiner's the killer you've been looking for. Bastard almost took Krista out last night. They're after Ackerman, and if you want to stay alive, you'll stay the fuck away from them. I mean it. They are not the people you think they are."

***

"Hey Jean, I just got a really weird voicemail from someone called Ymir. She was talking about vampires and magic rings and... something about Reiner being a murderer? It's probably nothing, but... she sounded really worked up and angry for a prank. I'm going to go over to Reiner's place and talk to him. I don't know what's going on, but I'm sure we can talk it out. Anyway, I just wanted to let you know in case you get a call as well. I've got it under control."

***

Jean felt all the blood drain from his face as he stared down at his phone. He stood there for a moment, unsure of what to think or feel.

Then he called Marco.

No answer.

He called again.

No answer.

After the third missed call, he pulled on his shoes and raced out of the apartment.

The first message had left him breathless - how the fuck had the vampire that Mikasa and Annie were hunting gotten his phone number?

That much he figured out almost immediately. It wasn't a nice thought, but it was the obvious answer. Ymir and Krista had been seen together at the club, and from the sound of it, they had been very friendly. Maybe the slayers were right and Krista was being manipulated. Maybe they weren't. Either way, he imagined that someone as charismatic and involved in the college as Krista wouldn't have much difficulty getting her hands on some phone numbers. It was an upsetting thought, but it wasn't his priority right now.

He didn't believe Ymir for even a second. But if she was involved, he did believe that Marco was walking into danger.

And he was walking into it blindly.

Jean cursed himself for listening to Erwin as he raced down the steps and to the rack that his bike was attached to. With fumbling fingers, he put in the code and yanked it free. He tore it from the rack and jumped on without bothering with a helmet.

As he peddled, his heart raced. Something cold slithered down his throat and into his stomach as he considered what might be waiting for him. Was this some elaborate trap set by Ymir? Would he get there to find everyone dead and the vampire waiting to set upon any of the slayer's friends who were foolish enough to show up? Did Bertolt and Reiner know about the story she was spinning? God, was she planning on turning them? Was she planning on turning Annie ? He didn't know what a slayer being turned into a vampire would mean in the grand scheme of things, but he couldn't imagine that it was anything good.

Was Marco going to die because Jean hadn't told him the truth?

The cold feeling spread throughout his body as worse and worse scenarios flashed through his mind. He could almost taste the fear threatening to paralyze him - or maybe that was bile. He definitely wouldn't be surprised if he ended up vomiting at some point in the night. The only thing that kept him going was the knowledge that if he didn't do anything, it could cost Marco his life. He had to - he had to -

He didn't know what he would do. What he could do. But he had to do something. Every bit of logic and reason within him told him to go back home and call Mikasa, and he wanted nothing more than to listen to it. The only problem was the obnoxious little thing he called a conscience, reminding him that he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't at least try to do something.

Damnit. He was probably going to get both of them killed.

He'd almost made it to Reiner's house when he rode past an alleyway. Jean caught sight of three figures standing by its mouth out of the corner of his eye. It was only a glimpse, but with his heart pounding in his chest and adrenaline rushing through his veins, it was enough to make him slam his feet against the pavement to stop his bike. He jumped off and abandoned it right on the side of the street as he rushed over to the alleyway.

His first instincts had been correct. No more than a few feet into the alleyway, Marco stood facing a stern-faced Reiner and Bertolt, talking rapid-fire and peppering his words with expressive gestures.

"Marco!" Jean called.

Marco, Reiner, and Bertolt all turned to face him. "Jean?" Marco asked, blinking. "What are you doing here?"

Jean cursed under his breath as he raced over to his friend. "Stopping you from doing something stupid," he said. "What about that call made you think this was a good idea? Ymir-"

"Did she call you as well?" Reiner asked. His expression was a combination of stony, frustrated, disappointed, and angry. It was a little odd, but far from the highest priority at the moment.

"Yeah," Jean said as he stepped over to Marco's side. He and everyone else looked uninjured - good. Ymir must not have been able to try anything yet. "She tried to feed me some nonsense about you two being vampires."

Bertolt groaned and shook his head. "Reiner, if she told Jean and Marco..."

"She probably told everyone," Reiner finished.

"So?" Jean asked, scowling. "It's not like any of us would believe her. The important thing is making sure that she isn't able to do anything serious."

"Yeah!" Marco added. "I mean - I'm still kinda... struggling to wrap my head around this, and that all this is real, but... just because you guys are vampires-"

Jean snapped his head around to stare at Marco. "Wait, what?"

Reiner sighed heavily.

There was only one short moment between that sigh and Reiner starting to speak. However, that moment was enough for Jean's innards to freeze up with a whole new sort of cold.

Maybe he should have given Ymir some credit after all.

"You see, Jean," Reiner began, a whisper of regret staining his voice, "Ymir wasn't lying."

"Maybe not completely," Marco said, oblivious to how Jean's heart was sinking in his chest. Oh, he was definitely nervous - the sweat beginning to form on his face and anxious strain to his smile said that much. But he also sounded like he sincerely believed what he was saying.

Because he didn't know what being a vampire meant. But then again, neither did Jean, now that he thought about it. He knew that they were blood-sucking monsters, but... maybe that wasn't everything. The Reiner and Bertolt that he knew were good people. Marco was a naive goody-two-shoes, but maybe there was some merit to what he was trying to say.

In the time that it took for Jean to go through that train of thought, Marco continued speaking. "But just because you're vampires doesn't mean you have to be killers!"

A shadowed look fell over Bertolt's face, while Reiner just frowned. Jean felt his stomach twist, and Marco's smile twitched fractionally.

Yet he didn't give up.

"A-and even if you are," Marco stammered, "this could be an opportunity to turn over a new leaf! I mean, is there any rule saying that you can't be good? What's stopping you?"

Bertolt bit his lower lip. "It doesn't..." Reiner gave him a heavy look as he trailed off, and he took in a deep breath before finishing, "it doesn't work that way."

"Why not!?" Jean demanded. The words felt like they were shards of glass forcing their way out of his throat and his heart was all but ready to burst out of his chest. He knew that he should turn and run. If Bertolt and Reiner really were vampires, he had to turn around and run if he wanted to get out alive.

But his friends needed him. Marco for sure, and maybe, if he wasn't being a complete moron, Bertolt and Reiner as well.

Jean should have turned around and run away. Instead, he stepped in front of Marco and held his arms out. "Why can't you be good? Vampires might not be the same as humans mentally and emotionally or whatever, but you have free will, don't you? And we're friends, aren't we? So why does this have to mean anything? Even if..." Jean swallowed and tried not to think too heavily on the horrible implications of what he was saying, of what Ymir had said, even as he forced himself to acknowledge their existence. "Even if you've done horrible things, I'm sure the others would be willing to give you another chance if you're willing to atone and try to do good now."

"He's right!" Marco chimed in, stepping forward and around Jean. "I-it might not mean much, but I would vouch for you."

Bertolt faltered. Beside him, Reiner closed his eyes, just for a moment.

When he opened them, all of their usual warmth had been replaced with ice. "Enough of this."

"Reiner-"

"No, Bertolt. They know now. Ackerman knows. We need to show them that we mean business."

Jean was moving before he even finished speaking. He grabbed Marco's arm and tried to drag him toward the mouth of the alley. However, his friend fought back and remained rooted to the spot. Both of them spoke at once.

"H-hey, let not do anything hasty-"

"-Marco, we need to go now-"

Meanwhile, Reiner jerked his head toward Jean and said, "hold him back."

Then Reiner twitched, his gaze jerking off to the side for a moment.

Bertolt didn't seem to notice. He didn't hesitate in closing the distance between himself and Jean and, with far more strength than any human should - could - have, tugged him away from Marco, and pinned his arms behind his back. Jean flailed and yelled wordlessly, but was unable to break out of his grasp.

"I'm sorry," Bertolt whispered. "We were only after Mikasa, you weren't supposed to be - this wasn't part of the plan."

"If you're sorry, then why don't you do something!? " Jean shouted.

Meanwhile, Reiner was approaching Marco. He looked steady, unstoppable - aside from how he kept looking over to the side every few seconds. At the same time, Marco took one, two, three steps away, until his back was pinned to the wall. 

Reiner's sudden twitchiness did nothing to soothe him. "Don't do this," he pleaded. "Reiner, please, we're friends, don't-"

"What's going on?"

All four of them froze. Despite his need to keep his eyes on Marco, Jean's eyes momentarily darted toward the opening of the alleyway. There stood Annie Leonhardt. She was beaten and bloody. At just a quick glance, he noticed that her shoulder was positioned oddly and there was a gruesome cut on her leg. Even so, for one bright, shining moment, he felt something that almost felt like hope. For a moment, he wanted to call out to her for help.

Then he remembered Ymir's call.

"Annie!" Marco called out, still hopeful where Jean could feel despair lapping at his heels. "Th-there's been some sort of misunderstanding. Maybe you could-"

 "Ymir knows about us," Reiner interrupted, making Jean's eyes snap back to him. Where Jean, Marco, and Bertolt had all paused to look at Annie, he had gotten ahold of himself and re-focused his attention on Marco. A predator fixated on its prey. "She told everyone."

"Mikasa knows too," Annie said, voice empty. "She got away."

Reiner's expression darkened. "She got away, or you let her go?"

No sooner had he spoken than a twitch ran through his jaw. But of course, with all that was going on, Annie didn't notice it. It looked like she was going to say something, but she never got the chance.

"She should let Mikasa go!" Jean exclaimed. "Annie, you're a slayer! You can't do this. You're supposed to be a hero. "

Meanwhile, Reiner grabbed Marco by the shoulder and pulled them both around to face Annie. "I think you've gotten too attached," he said. As soon as he spoke, he visibly tightened his grip on Marco's shoulder as he spoke, jaw clenching a little tighter yet.

Annie scowled. "No! I just-"

"None of you are too attached!" Marco pleaded. "We're friends! Annie, Reiner, please- "

"Reiner," Jean hissed. "Annie. Bertolt." The vampire holding him swallowed audibly, but made no move to cut Jean off, nor did he try to join the current cacophony of voices. "Listen to me. If you do this, I swear to god, you will- "

"Shut up, Eren!" Reiner snapped.

Silence fell over the group. Or rather, everyone aside from Reiner, who went on to murmur, a hint of intermingled exhaustion and agitation creeping into his voice, "I'm not going to regret anything."

Jean stared. Marco didn't dare move, but he could make out the confusion on his face. Annie's expression morphed into a frown.

"Reiner," Bertolt whispered, "who's Eren?"

Reiner raised the hand that wasn't clutching onto Marco to scrub at the side of his face. "No one," he said. "Let's just get this over with."

He lowered his hand and pushed Marco into Annie's arms. "Kill him."

Annie grabbed onto Marco, whose expression had settled firmly into one of horror.

"Annie, please," he begged, "we can still talk this out, we can-"

"Annie!" Jean howled. "If you do this, you'll-"

"Annie has a soul," Bertolt called out, voice pitched loud enough to cut through the din.

Reiner raised an eyebrow at Bertolt. "So?"

" Look at her," Bertolt pressed.

So Jean looked. He saw that Annie's eyes were wide and her face was pale. She looked pained, but that could very well be because of her injuries.

Perhaps it was because he wasn't as kind of Marco, but to him, she just looked like a murderer in the making. Nonetheless, Bertolt pressed on.

"There are other ways for her to prove her loyalty, but you need to remember that she isn't like us, Reiner. You're asking her to kill a friend. That sort of thing-"

"Right," Reiner said, letting out a mirthless laugh. "We have to look out for the slayer's precious soul."

Reiner wrenched Marco out of Annie's grasp and snapped his neck.

Nobody had time to do anything. Nobody even had time to react. One second Marco was standing there, terrified but alive, and the next his lifeless body was falling to the ground. It was the sort of thing that was impossible to witness without receiving a permanent scar on your soul.

But vampires didn't have souls to scar, and as he stared down at Marco's body, Reiner's expression was utterly impassive.

"Annie," he said, voice empty save for a faint hint of irritation. "Someone will need to dispose of the body. Do you think you can handle that, at least?"

"Once I get the arrow out of my shoulder," she said. Her voice was choked up. If Jean didn't know better, he might suspect that he would see tears in her eyes if he looked at her. But he didn't. He wasn't able to look at anything but Marco's body.

"I'll help," Bertolt offered.

"Not yet," Reiner said. "We aren't done here."

With that, he approached Jean, eyes dark and heavy. Jean met his gaze with his own, eyes promising vengeance, for all that he knew that his death was probably upon him.

Yet when Reiner opened his mouth, it was to say, "now that you know we're serious... Jean. Because we're friends, I'm going to let you live. And if you, Sasha, and Connie stay out of the way, none of you will be hurt."

Faintly, Jean heard Annie murmur, "hypocrite." He couldn't tell if Reiner caught it, as his eyes remained fixed on Jean, waiting for his answer.

A smart person would have agreed. A selfish person would have agreed. If you asked Jean prior to that moment, he would have expected himself to agree.

Instead, he looked Reiner in the eyes and said, "we won't. Reiner, if you let me live, I promise that you will regret it."

Reiner gave a thin smile. "Good thing I'm willing to take that bet."

He stepped away and collected Marco's body in his arms. For a moment, it looked like he would pass it - him - to Annie, but he hesitated upon getting a closer look at her arm. With a sigh, he called, "Bertolt?"

"I really am sorry," Bertolt murmured before letting go of Jean and stepping away.

Jean wanted to charge at Marco's murderers. To fight for his body so that he would at least get a proper burial. To avenge his death. Instead, without Bertolt to support him, his legs gave out and he fell to his knees.

"Think about my offer," Reiner called.

With that, the trio left the alleyway, taking Marco's corpse with them.

And Jean was alone.

Breathing Our Last Breath-- Vampire!Luke Part 2

A/N: thank you thank you thank you! For all your love and support on my vampire series!🥰 it means everything to me. The title and overall theme correlates PERFECTLY with BMTH’s song ‘One Day the only butterflies left will be in your chest as you march towards your death.’ When I first heard the song I couldn’t believe how well it fit in with the way I wanted this story to go. And once again...I apologize but the angst will be worth it trust me. Love you please don’t hate me @irwinkitten​ 

Word count: 5.7k

Warnings: blood drinking, slight manic episode of the vampiric kind

To catch up:

Giving You My Soul (Part 1)

A bite (blurb)

Fangs (blurb)

Masterlist

• • • •

Him

Luke sought out the help of Michael the next morning after he and Y/N connected last night. It was after he showed her his fangs that while she was sighing his name he almost told her. He almost told her he loved her, but he couldn’t make himself do so. Cheeks flushed, hair splayed across his pillow with his bite marks staring up at him on her left breast, the words were caught between his teeth.

Saying those three words would complicate things more. Change her or keep her human? He stayed up all night wrestling with his thoughts while she slept soundly next to him. When she’d make a noise of contempt, he’d reach over and stroke her face until she relaxed, falling back into a pleasant dream.

He wrote her a note telling her of his whereabouts, gave a quick kiss to her forehead then ran to Michael’s place. He gave a swift knock to the door before bustling in only to find Michael and Kitty cuddled together against the counter.

Kitty’s legs were wrapped around Michael’s waist, their hands in his hair while Michael nuzzles against their neck. Kitty chuckles then opens their eyes when the front door snaps shut. They tap on Michael’s shoulder then says Luke’s name.

“Don’t you knock?” Michael asks turning around. His tone is accusatory, but his face is teasing, his eyes seem a brighter green than normal.

“I did, then just walked right in. Sorry to interrupt,” Luke grins. “Good morning, Kitty.”

“Morning, Luke,” Kitty laughs letting their legs fall against the cupboards. “Is Y/N with you? I can make us some breakfast.”

“No, she’s back at my place still asleep. I came to discuss something with you, Mike.”

Michael notices the change in Luke’s voice, he swallows thickly then turns to Kitty.

“How about you go take a shower and I’ll have breakfast ready for you, hm?”

“All right,” Kitty sighs slipping onto the floor. They peck Michael’s lips. “I want French toast. See you later, Luke. Tell Y/N I say hello.”

“I will,” Luke smiles at them. When he hears the bathroom door close he joins Michael at the counter who’s grabbing the breakfast essentials.

“What’s going on?”

“Are you going to change Kitty?” Luke blurts out. He tried coming up with an easy way to bring up the topic but couldn’t come up with something.

“I haven’t really thought about it or discussed it with them, why? Are you thinking of changing Y/N?”

“I don’t know,” he murmurs quietly and leans against the counter.

“What brought this on?” Michael grabs the loaf of bread then moves to the fridge for eggs and milk.

“I feasted on her a couple weeks ago and now…I can’t exist without her, Mike.”

Michael sighs. “And since then you don’t want to change her but also don’t want her to die as a human…Have you talked with her?”

“No. It’s not really a conversation I want to have.”

“No one wants to have that kind of conversation,” Michael chortles cracking two eggs in a bowl. He adds a splash of milk then stirs the contents until it turns a pale yellow. He flicks on the stovetop then continues to stir. “She cares about you, too. Don’t make a choice that’s hers to make in the first place.”

“I feel selfish, asking her to make a choice between human or Vampirism and for what? Me?”

“Luke, she loves you. I know you’ve never really been in a solid relationship, but communication is key. Tell her what you’re thinking. Is this why you’ve been acting strange the last few weeks?”

“I’ve been acting strange? How?” Luke crosses his arms and becomes intent on watching Michael dip the piece of bread in the yolk and milk creation. Y/N likes her French toast with strawberries, cream, and syrup.

“You didn’t hear this from me,” Michael warns lowly, “but Y/N was telling Kitty you two haven’t really been…intimate in a while. Since you feasted now I know why. We haven’t known each other for very long but I can tell you’re pulling away, pushing the thing that scares you out of sight. But while you do that, you’re pushing her away as well.”

Luke is stunned into silence. Has he really not touched Y/N since the night he bit her? He goes through his memory quickly of the last several weeks then sees what Michael is talking about. No wonder Y/N was shocked at his sudden need of affection last night. The whole encounter felt different, something has shifted between them and he’s the cause of it.

“How can I do that without realizing it?”

“You’ve been alone for thousands of years,” Michael shrugs plopping the bread in the pan. It sizzles from the heat. “Kind of funny how I’m giving you words of wisdom, eh?”

Luke rolls his eyes but silently agrees. Michael has given him much to think about and all too quickly that becomes very dangerous. He weighs all three of his options; change her so they can be together forever, keep her human, and the third is discussing the first two options with her. The last one scares the hell out of him. He never wants to put her in danger or a place of discord.

For all of his life—human and immortal—he’s never had to worry about someone else. Hell, what he thought was courting her with the gifts he left was actually a little offensive. Then to ask her to give up her life to spend it with him? Does she love him, too?

His thoughts take over every part of him when he returns home to find her in one of his silk shirts—the teal one that contrasts nicely with her skin—making her own breakfast. His mind is elsewhere but he plays the actions well of kissing her temple and having small chat.

**

Luke hides his thoughts and emotions extremely well around Y/N for the next week. He acts normal. Kisses her, tangles his fingers in her hair and watches over her at the Bar in case Brone tried to approach. On the outside, he played his part well but on the inside he was in turmoil.

He’s been a wanderer, never staying in one place long, never getting attached to someone—human and Vampire alike. This is the longest he’s stayed in one place since Italy and he’s made a friend in Michael and found a deep love with Y/N.

He’s read of love, he even played Romeo at one point in his life. Songs are rooted from love, paintings, movies, poems. He’s observed it in many forms but has never experienced it. This is all new territory for him, waters he’s never swam in before.

Now, he’s faced with the choice to love her for the rest of her days or make her like him. Sure, he lives an extraordinary life, rubbing elbows with royals and celebrities, experiencing history firsthand. He’s seen the world change many times over while he remains the same. Frozen.

Another week goes by filled with questions and more questions. While Y/N sleeps in his bed, her hand is tucked under chin and his shirt hangs off her body, he walks. He walks through the house, examines his belongings, tickles the ivories on his piano as he passes by then he walks his grounds.

He can hear Y/N wherever he goes, the steady lull of her heart and if she wakes he’ll be by her side in a moment. She’s in no danger.

As he walks, he thinks. He imagines the life they would have had back in his time. They’d have a large estate with beautiful furniture and paintings while her closet would be filled with flowing gowns. There’d be plenty of children running the grounds. A happy life, a promised life.

His head snaps to the house when Y/N rolls out of bed and stumbles tiredly into the bathroom across the way. He races back inside taking his place back in bed just as she emerges from the bathroom.

“Where were you?” she asks thickly and falls next to him.

“I got you some water,” he says holding up a glass. He got it on his way.

She rubs her eyes then takes a few gulps before curling up next to him. She fits perfectly against him, her body molding to his shape like the perfect puzzle. Luke stays awake, asking himself a million questions but never finding one answer.

**

Luke starts to spiral as more days go by. He decides to fast on his feedings as if doing so would clear his head. His assumption would soon be wrong.

He distances himself even more from Y/N by dropping her off at her place instead of his after her shifts at the Bar. He uses the excuse that he’s remodeling and doesn’t want to risk her getting hurt or inhaling too much paint.

That’s the first lie.

While he continues to deny his thirst, he starts to go mad, spiraling down a dark place he’s never been before. He’s going to a place which started the mask mandate in the first place. Vampires wanted to exist in society but when they denied their drinking they became lustful and more dangerous for a bite. The savage ones used the form of fasting as their own kind of drug, it made them see things, feel things they haven’t before.

While he looks at his memorabilia he’s transported back in time with whatever object he’s looking at. His eyes are darkened which darkens the world around him as he’s reacquainted with his old friends. He has gallant parties with them in his trinket room, his manic laughter echoing throughout the house. To a bystander or peeping Tom, they would see he’s completely alone while ghosts of his past keep him false company.

He ignores Michael and Kitty’s calls then slips further and further from Y/N. He makes more excuses. The second lie is when he tells her he needs a break. Something has come up in Italy. An old acquaintance needs help. Y/N asks what exactly the break means, and Luke laughs at the simple question that has an even simpler answer.

“A break of us. I need space, Y/N, my feelings have changed.”

That was the second lie.

The third lie is that he’s close to his answer, but he needs a little more time. A little more time of not consuming blood and everything will fall into place. He’s not sure how many days have gone by when he reaches this realization. The lack of sleep and blood alters time. (It’s really been a whole month).

**

Luke wakes from a dream, was it really a dream? Y/N was there, and they were laying in the white sands of Cala Luna beach in Italy. He’s not sure what woke him up, but she was on his mind. Not that she hasn’t been for the last however many days. When was the last time he saw her?

He thinks of calling her but then quickly changes his mind. He ended it so he wouldn’t have to force her to make a decision between her life and him. He’s even more of a danger to her now because he’s been without blood for so long and the way she smells to him? His actions could be catastrophic but that dream…he wants to take her to Cala Luna, kiss her in the sand.

He’s made up his choice.

He searches for his phone, checks the date and time and it’s her day off from the bar so he could go and get a blood bag, replenish himself and go see her. He’s ready to open up to her, wrap her in his arms again and kiss her chest with butterfly kisses.

“The Bar,” he mutters then laughs joyously at his brilliant idea.

He decides to run there and in his crazed mind he somehow remembers to put on his mask, although it’s haphazardly placed. Plus, he’s faster than his car anyway so the faster he gets to the bar the faster he can go to Y/N.

The scents of A positive and O negative tickles his nose and burns his throat. He’s so damn thirsty. His mouth waters as he rushes to the bar and orders two bags. He finishes them in seconds, not even using the glass supplied. He feels the blood drip down his chin and Trixie eyes him cautiously as he asks for two more bags.

Halfway through his fourth, a warm body presses into his back. With the lack of blood for so many days, or weeks, drinking it now and in such a rush has him buzzed. His eyesight isn’t completely back yet, it’s as if he has dark spots clouding his vision. How he’s feeling is the equivalence of drinking alcohol and getting drunk.

Luke turns around quickly; his normally pristine vision distorts the figure in front of him. A warm hand touches his cheek, their blood is sweet with a hint of flowers. In his distorted state, his body is on a fine line of going back to normal and lingering on his blood deprived state, he knows it’s not Y/N.

“Hey, it’s all right. I know who you’re looking for,” Celeste says, but his mind alters it into a singing tone.

“Y/N?” he mumbles. Was she really here?

Celeste’s blood entices him. The blood bags are fine and all but drinking directly from a warm body is better. Being out of human contact for so long, her blood allures him tenfold.

“Yeah, she’s upstairs fixing one of the beds,” Simone sings next to him now.

“She is?” he shifts in his chair then nearly stumbles out of it at the thought of seeing Y/N. Then he’s filled with embarrassment. He can’t let her see him like this.

“We’ll clean you up,” Celeste hoists him against her body. His mind reels at the scent of her blood.

“Yeah, come on, sweetie.”

Their voices sing to him as they lead him towards the stairs. The promise of seeing Y/N allows Celeste and Simone’s help. He doesn’t quite remember the stairs being this long, his body feels heavy and he can feel the blood slosh around. Will she be disgusted seeing it on his lips?

A door opens then he’s rushed inside, his legs knocking into each other as he’s pushed against the back of a couch. He starts to giggle. Was Y/N down the hall and Celeste and Simone shove him in the nearest room to save himself from having her see him this way?

“What’s so funny?” Celeste asks brushing away a curl.

“Hiding while I’m seeking,” he giggles. The girls join in his laughter then is jacket is pulled off.

“You know what will help when you see her?”

“We heard all that happened between you two,” Celeste rubs his cheek.

“Yes, we’ve grown quite close the three of us,” Simone sighs.

“What will help? I’ll do anything,” his words slur together. He keeps blinking his eyes trying to get rid of the dark splotches.

“Feed on us, Luke,” Celeste whispers in his ear. “We can tell you’ve been fasting. Your pretty blue eyes are so dark.”

“Yeah, and you don’t want Y/N to see you like this, right?”

“No! No, no, no, no,” he shakes his head, eyes closing. “She can’t see me. I can’t hurt her.”

“Shh, shh,” Celeste hushes while Simone touches his hand. “We’ll help you…”

“Yeah, we’ve got you sweetie…”

Simone reaches for the button of his shirt while Celeste offers him her neck. In his delirium he’s back at the beach in his dream with Y/N and she’s the one offering her neck. Her blood is so sweet, and he loves her so much, he gives in to “Y/N”’s actions.

“Go on, take a bite.”

HER

Y/N received a note from Michael and Kitty to meet them upstairs at the Bar. She’s very thankful for them because after the whirlwind of confusion with Luke they really helped her out. They kept her occupied and her mind off things while also providing comfort that Luke will come around.

When she walks inside she looks to the Bar in search of Trixie, she gives her a wave, but Trixie is busy with the slew of customers. Y/N climbs the stairs then sees the room the note indicated. Y/N opens the door and is horrified by what she sees. Her stomach plummets, her mouth opens in a silent scream and her heart shatters in a million pieces.

Luke’s shirt is wide open, his mouth latched onto Celeste’s neck while Simone is on her knees in front of him.

“Y/N, Y/N…” he mumbles.

Tears sting her eyes. She’s gasping for breath while trying to speak his name. She hasn’t seen him in weeks, all this time she was hopeful he’d come back. That he would tell her what he was going through, and they could work it out together whatever it was ailing him. How could she be so naïve?

“Oh, look. We have a guest,” Celeste moans. She smiles deviously at Y/N who wipes furiously at her eyes trying to dry her tears.

“Y/N! What—” Michael’s voice appears and that pulls Luke from his stupor.

Luke shoves Celeste away, blood dripping down his chin. He gasps when he spots Y/N, falling apart in front of him. For a fraction of the smallest second, their eyes meet. He tries to say her name while tossing Simone off of him, attempting to fix his shirt and pants. Then she’s gone, running from the room and away from Luke.

“What the hell are you doing, Luke?” she hears Michael shout.

“Y/N?!”

Was that Kitty she passed? Y/N doesn’t know and keeps running, nearly stumbling down the stairs. As she runs Luke tries to get away from the two sirens who used his weakness against him. Y/N’s face sobered him, cleared his vision.

“Get the fuck out,” Michael hisses at the women. They scamper away with Luke trying to follow but Michael blocks his path. “Talk.”

Back downstairs, Y/N’s legs are shaking, her whole body is in tremors. Her heart is breaking and so is the rest of her. Trixie spots her just as Kitty catches up.

“What--?” Trixie’s eyes are wide at the sight of Y/N.

“Luke was upstairs with Celeste and Simone,” Kitty spits in anger. “Y/N, come here.”

Kitty pulls her against their chest, Y/N collapses all too easily with tears falling relentlessly from her eyes.

“Here, have her sit down. Try to catch your breath, babe,” Trixie consoles then runs for a water.

Kitty shuffles over to a chair but Y/N is resisting. She can’t be here. Not with Luke just upstairs and Celeste and Simone.

“No. T-take me h-home…I don’t wa-want to s-see him,” Y/N chokes out. Kitty glances towards the stairs but doesn’t see Luke or Michael. They nod to Y/N.

“Okay, I’ll take you home.”

“What happened?” Trixie asks on her return with a bottle of water.

As if on cue, Luke has flashed in front of them quicker than the speed of light. Kitty places their arms around Y/N protectively, guarding her from Luke and glares at him. Michael appears as well, his hand moving to Luke’s chest that is spotted in blood and still unbuttoned.

“Ask Luke,” Kitty sneers then leads Y/N out the door.

Kitty tries to console Y/N the best they can at her apartment but she’s sobbing so hard it’s hard to breathe. She gasps for breath so much that she dry heaves. Kitty holds Y/N’s face in their hands and recites a breathing technique to her. Her breathing finally picks up but her tears continue.

After a couple of hours, Y/N finally falls asleep, but it isn’t for very long. She wakes up, remembers what happened and her heart breaks all over again. She’s stuck between rose colored dreams of Luke and the dark nightmare that is her reality. She’s not quite sure which is worse to endure.

**

Days go by and she hasn’t left her bed. She’s cried herself dry and is left with her skin tight and dry. Her eyes are puffy. She’s so sleepy but she fights it off not wanting to dream of Luke. While she’s awake she wonders what she’s doing then hates herself for wanting to be with him after what she saw.

Kitty forces her to drink some water but refuses to eat. She simply has no appetite. Like her heart it’s disappeared.

On the seventh day, Michael arrives with a bag of goodies for her. While he was with Luke, Kitty and Michael were in constant communication trying to figure out exactly what had happened. When Michael discovered Luke had fasted he became so angry he shoved Luke so hard he flew out the window. Luke didn’t put up a fight, he knows he deserves way worse.

Luke begged and begged for Michael to bring him to Y/N but Michael refused, he’s done enough damage. When Luke overheard Michael discussing Y/N with Kitty and how they couldn’t get her to eat Luke jumped to her aid. He told Michael that taking a shower helps center herself and she needs a lot of blankets. Her comfort food is a warm cooked meal of chicken and mashed potatoes with brownies for dessert.

Michael stared at him in shock but heeded his advice then made his way to Y/N’s. He sits next to her on her bed, removes his mask then gives her an apologetic smile.

“Hi.”

She doesn’t say anything and continues to look out the window. He reveals the goodies in his bag, says he’ll cook her favorite food and that Kitty will help her take a hot shower.

“I want a bath,” she mutters.

“I’ll make sure it’s nice and warm,” Kitty promises then helps her from her bed.

The sun rises, the sun sets. The moon rises, the moon sets.

Her days roll endlessly together that she loses track of time. Her appetite comes back but it’s slim pickings. Her face doesn’t feel so stiff from her tears, but she still isn’t sleeping that well. Usually when she’d have a nightmare, Luke would hold her and murmur in her ear sweet things. Sometimes it would be in Italian and his words would turn into a song lulling her back to sleep.

She hasn’t returned to work, refuses to because she doesn’t want to come in contact with Luke. If she saw Celeste and Simone she knew she would claw their eyes out. Trixie is more than understanding and has banned Celeste and Simone from ever returning. Trixie made sure Y/N knew her job would be there for her when she returns and would still get paid.

She overheard Michael and Kitty saying that Luke hasn’t left the bar since that night. She wonders if he still has the blood on his face or did he clean it off? Surely Trixie wouldn’t let him sit there looking like that. She hates how she’s worried for him.

The sun rises, the sun sets. The moon rises, the moon sets.

Y/N wakes to hear Michael and Kitty talking loudly and in exasperated voices. She steps into the living room where they’re seated, Michael has his phone in his hand.

“What’s going on?” Y/N asks, their heads snap in her direction.

“It’s Luke. He’s been hurt.”

THEM

He hates himself. He let his fear take control which left him powerless. He’s sitting at the bar like he has been for the past five weeks, never leaving this spot in case Y/N walks in. He overheard Trixie on the phone with Michael that she takes as long as she needs to return.

He has half a mind to try her at her apartment but a nasty text from Kitty made him stay away. Michael would visit him frequently, drinks a blood bag with him. Michael hated seeing Luke this way, his skin is an unhealthy pallor, his eyes darkened with purple and black circles underneath.

His heart hasn’t beat in centuries, yet he takes on the appearance of what a broken heart looks like. When Luke asks about Y/N his voice is papery thin. He sounds as old as he is, thousands of years old. Fading, decrepit, frail.

Brone stalks up behind him, pushing Luke against the counter. Luke takes it but turns around slowly.

“You look like hell,” Brone laughs. “You’re really this torn up over that flower? Was she really that good in bed?”

“What do you want, Brone?” Luke croaks.

“Let’s have a little chat outside…”

Brone’s teeth sever into Luke’s flesh, his back, his shoulder, his arms. The venom doesn’t harm him, but it fills him with enough pain that he feels himself losing feeling in his body. In between bites, Brone screams at Luke to fight back. He’s waited all this time to get revenge on him for stealing away the love of Brone.

“What are you talking about?” Luke coughs out.

“Remember Lenore?”

Luke vaguely remembers the strawberry-blond woman. It was back in the early 1940’s, she was a candy striper. Luke befriended her one morning on his routine walk when her hat flew off her head. He caught it and they bonded over a new song from Glen Miller and his band.

The closer they got the more she confided in him and that’s when Brone was brought up. Luke has crossed paths with him too many times to know what Lenore was about to tell him.

“She never shared the same feelings for you,” Luke groans. He slumps to the ground against the wall, his body is starting to lock up from the venom.

“Yeah well, now I’m going to take yours from you.”

“No,” Luke hisses through his teeth. He tries to move but to no avail, the venom is quick, and he’s frozen as stone against the wall.

Brone crouches in front of him, smirking. “Oh, yes. I’ll get to see what’s so special about her to you, then I’ll feast on her. Might change her, might drink her dry. I haven’t decided yet. Catch you around, Luke.”

Luke fills with white hot anger, but he’s immobilized. He feels his eyes become heavy, the venom overtakes him, and his world goes dark.

“LUKE!”

Her voice. He hears her voice and tries to reach her but he’s floating somewhere. Somewhere that’s dark and still. Luke tries to resurface, reaching for the sound of her heart. She’s sobbing his name so close in his ear. Is she touching him? He can’t feel it. He wants to tell her to run, to get to safety.

“LU—”

He hears a commotion.  Brone’s voice and Y/N’s then a scream and a thump. Michael’s voice. Trixie’s voice. Y/N’s heart jumps erratically, her breath gasping. Luke tries to scream her name. He tries to claw his way from the darkness.

The voices blend together, he’s trying to follow along with the words, but he can’t grasp on anything quite yet. Is Y/N all right? What’s happened? Where’s Brone?

Michael’s voice warps in and out of his mind while he’s screaming on the inside.

**

It starts in his fingertips and toes. He’s gaining sensation back in his body and when he can twitch his fingers he feels Y/N’s hand next to his. Her heart is still beating but it’s staggered. Where were they? Luke smells the area and they’re in his home on his bed. His bed that still smells of her sweet floral scent.

Michael and Kitty’s voices carry from downstairs, but Luke doesn’t decipher what they’re saying. His hearing is still deep underwater in the lake of the venom. His fingers twitch some more then he brushes her skin. That excites him. He keeps twitching his fingers until he hooks them with hers, he grasps her tightly, so she’ll know he’s there.

Did Brone bite her? Is she changing? Did he just drink a lot of her blood that it’s taking her so long to recover? He wants answers but if Michael brought them to his home then she has to be all right. Right?

More time passes and his ability to move travels up his legs and arms. His eyes and mouth are still clamped shut, that’s the last place the venom reached him, so it’ll also be the last place he recovers. He flexes his finger and toes, bones cracking from being still for so long. At least he can get a firmer hold on Y/N’s hand, now he rubs his thumb over her skin.

Slowly but surely, he feels the weight on his chest disappear. His neck feels lighter and he can turn it from side to side. Not long now and he can open his eyes, he can look at Y/N and assess what’s happened. He can apologize. He can tell her he loves her. He can tell her that fasting was a terrible idea and that he was scared. He can tell her he’ll do anything to gain her forgiveness back.

He counts the time with his clock from his trinket room. It’s been two hours and his jaw goes slack. He opens his mouth and can taste Y/N’s scent in the air.

“Come on, come on,” he mutters wanting his eyes to open now. Open, open, open, open!

Two minutes and his eyes flash open, he has gained full mobility back and he crouches next to Y/N. Her eyes are closed, there’s bite marks on her arms but he doesn’t smell the venom. So why hasn’t she woken up?

“Michael!”

Michael appears.

“Finally. I was about to lose my mind. How are you--?”

“What happened?” Luke interrupts pressing his hand to Y/N’s forehead. She’s not her normal temperature.

“I’m not too sure. When I came, she was on the ground next to you bleeding. I tried to get Brone and kill him, but Trixie got him with her cross bow in his shoulder and he ran off. I would’ve gone after him, but you were frozen and Y/N…I don’t know what’s wrong. I think he fed off her, but I don’t know why she isn’t waking up,” Michael explains in a rush.

“Y/N, lovie…” Luke murmurs caressing her cheek. He kisses her hand that’s still in his, her skin cold. Her heart starts to flutter.

“…uke…” she barely utters.

“I’m right here, love, what can I do to help?” he begs cradling her face.

“Butterflies…” she exhales, and he’s confused. What about butterflies?

“Hm? Should I get you some chocolate?”

Her eyebrows pull together, a weak movement, but he notices it.

“Do you feel butterflies?” he asks gently, her thumb jerks against his hand. That must be yes. “Where are they? They’re not hurting you, are they?”

“No…take me…away…”

“They’re taking you away? Where are they taking you?”

“F…from you…”

“You have to bite her,” Michael says. Luke had forgotten he was in the room.

“What?”

“If butterflies are taking her away then I think that means she’s…she’s dying. You have to change her Luke. Now.”

Luke looks at her frantically. Her heart has staggered more but she appears fine so how--?

“Luke!”

He hovers over her, rests his forehead against hers.

“I’m so sorry for what I’ve done. I’m sorry for being distant and not talking to you. I pushed you away to try and protect you and now look at you. I’m so sorry for hurting you and for Celeste and Simone…they used my befuddled mind and lack of feasting against me. You’re the only one I want, the only one I desire, the only one I love. I can change you, make you like me but only if it’s your wish, Y/N. I’m so, so sorry lovie,” he confesses in one breath.

She squeezes his hand the best she can.

“Change…please…I can’t…leave…you…” her voice barely registers a normal octave.

“Are you sure?” he whispers nudging his nose against hers.

“I love you.”

It was her most coherent sentence. Luke kisses her forehead then moves to her chest. He pulls her shirt away so he can see his bite marks from months ago when he first bit her. He kisses the spot, lips soft as the butterflies, extracts his fangs and sinks his teeth into her flesh. She lets out a shaky breath as his venom spreads through her.

When he’s expelled enough, he licks his tongue over the puncture then drags his lips towards hers. His Sleeping Beauty will sleep now while her body changes, he gave her the kiss of death that will bring her to a new life.

“Don’t go…hold me….”

Tears leak from her eyes as the venom spreads, Luke kisses them away.

“I won’t leave you. You’re going to hurt, but I’ll keep you wrapped in my arms.”

He adjusts himself so he can hold her against him, her heart leaping and jumping at different speeds. Michael mumbles something about being downstairs to tell Kitty. Luke kisses her hair, breathes her in before the pain will take over.

Thankfully, the process isn’t long. It takes about twelve hours for the body to fully change into a Vampire. He stays with her while her breathing quickens then turns shallow. He keeps holding her when she thrashes against him, begging him to take the pain away. He holds her while she screams, telling her how much he loves her.

Her screams continue after the second hour. Her body goes slack, but her voice rings out from the searing pain. Her heart rate keeps increasing.

The sun sets, the moon rises.

When the clock chimes midnight, her screams go silent and her heart comes to a full stop. Luke’s gaze hasn’t left her face and he watches, and he waits. He touches her cheek with his fingers, she flinches then relaxes when she smells him.

“I’m right here,” he murmurs. She turns towards his voice; his arms relax around her, but he doesn’t pull away.

Then, like a butterfly appearing from their cocoon, she opens her eyes to a new life.

• • • •

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